#translate something i always think 'oh yeah. rose pink.'

[sloanesallow]

lavender haze

Sebastian runs into some...difficulties while brewing a potion. (Previously written in October, not posted to tumblr). ✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Sexual content (masturbation), character under the influence of Amortentia. 1.7k words [Read on Wattpad] - [Read on Ao3]

Sebastian is distracted.

What should be just another session in the Undercroft is proving to be more difficult than he anticipated. Not because of the subject material, but because of the study partner.

Sloane.

Beautiful and brilliant Sloane.

He sits cross-legged on the stone floor, tension coiled tight in his gut as he watches his friend, his just friend, with a kind of lust that he ought to be ashamed of. Sebastian has always been fond of Sloane, grateful for her companionship and willingness to stick by his side through thick and thin. He is unable to pinpoint exactly when his thoughts about her switched from innocent to debauchery.

There is something different about her, something that stirs his blood and sends his heart into a frenzy. He has seen her every day, has known her for years, the two sharing laughter and tears and everything in between. It is more than infatuation, but he is too afraid to call it love. He settles on an emotion he is more familiar with—desire. He wants Sloane all for himself, the selfish bastard that he is.

Intrusive, wicked thoughts continue to swirl in his mind. He wants her in his bed, wants to fall to his knees and worship at the altar that is her body and soul, wants to devour her until she screams his name—

Oh, he is well and truly fucked.

Sebastian attempts to focus on the small cauldron of bubbling liquid he is slowly stirring but soon finds himself tracking her movements through the dungeon. Sloane's ash-blonde hair has grown out over the years, a few golden strands shimmering under the light of the flickering candles that hang from the ceiling. He openly stares as she bends over to fetch a book from her satchel, the fabric of her skirt moving across the curve of her bottom.

He swallows hard, a surge of heat threatening to swallow him whole. Sebastian shifts, wishing he had his robe to drape over his lap right about now. Sloane sits back down next to him, taking the stirstick and sending a shock through his body as her fingers against his. He snaps his attention to the parchment balancing on his knee, even if he can't for the life of him translate the gibberish that is his handwriting.

"It should be more pink, don't you think?" Sloane asks, softly laughing at her own rhyme.

Sebastian nods, fixated on her lips. "Yeah."

Her tongue pokes out as she bites it in concentration, adding a few more ashwinder eggs to the mixture, completely oblivious to his internal turmoil. There is a faint stain of red on her lips, makeup that her and some of the other seventh-year girls have been experimenting with. All Sebastian can wonder is if she kissed him, would she leave marks behind—on his lips, on his throat, on the sensitive patch on skin just above his hip-bone. He clenches his jaw, fighting the spine-tingling shiver at the thought of her lipstick staining his pillow.

Stop—he silently implores his mind, biting his nails into his palm before the last of his resolve spirals out of control. Sloane speaks again but he cannot hear what she says over the ringing in his ears. He watches the subtle way her throat tightens and relaxes around the words, wanting nothing more than to press his lips there and taste the saltiness of her skin.

"Sebastian."

His name falling from her lips snaps him out of the haze, if only for a moment. With a strangled chuckle, he meets her gaze and flashes a sheepish grin. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if there were any more rose petals," she says, pointing to the pouch of ingredients nearest to him.

Sebastian startles into action, sifting through the inventory but finding nothing but powdered moonstone and peppermint. "Looks like we used them all."

"That's...not right," Sloane frowns, her brows furrowed in thought. She reaches over and takes the notes from him, nearly causing him to flinch. "Did we forget to add something? Or..." she trails, looking far too adorable as she pouts. "It doesn't look like the potion Professor Sharp brewed today."

Sebastian cannot remember what he had for lunch, let alone the potions lecture from that morning. He frowns, not wanting his distracted mind and wandering eyes to jeopardize their grade. Not when the project will ultimately affect their NEWT scores.

"Should we start over?" he asks, clearing his throat when his voice comes out garbled.

Sloane nods and is suddenly pushing off the ground to stand. She gestures for him to pass her the pouch and she peers inside to see for herself. "I'll be right back. Maybe I can ask the Professor for some advice while restocking."

Before Sebastian can say anything to stop her she is slipping past the iron gates of the Undercroft entrance and disappearing from view. He grumbles to himself, reaching down rather awkwardly to readjust the growing arousal in his trousers. In an effort to keep his mind and hands busy, he flicks through the book Sloane left behind, reading through her neat notes in the margin.

"Love potion," he mutters under his breath. "Pink or red in color."

His eyes glance over the edge of the book to see that whatever is brewing inside the small cauldron, it is not a love potion. Sebastian purses his lips in worry, flicking through the pages for anything that fits the description of what he sees. Somewhere in the back of his mind he already knows, the spiraling steam wafting through the air and invading his senses.

Amortentia.

Sebastian's stomach drops as his heart rate spikes. Only he would find himself in this situation, the accidental creation of the most powerful love potion in the world. He huffed a laugh and wondered—is this the reason for his wild thoughts? But then why wasn't Sloane affected?

Maybe he was a love-struck fool afterall.

Whatever the explanation, Sebastian is unable to form another coherent thought as a silky tendril of the potion sneaks up his nose, instantly setting his soul on fire. It is like every nerve in his body is firing at once, yearning and demanding attention so intensely that it hurts. His pupils dilate and with every staggered breath he can hear the echo of his heart, pounding so loudly in his chest he topples over.

He blinks hard, holding himself up against the nearby chaise. All he can see behind his closed lids is Sloane, her stormy eyes sparkling with mischief as she beckons him with her curved smile and tantalizing tongue.

"Fuck," he curses, snapping open his eyes.

Sebastian gathers enough strength to fight his wobbling legs, collapsing against the cushions as his entire body trembles. He sucks in a breath only to discover Sloane's scent is everywhere, the fabric of her forgotten robe spread out beneath his head. With every blink he can see her, feel her pressing against him, the ghost of her touch prickling his skin.

Frantically, he untucks his dress-shirt from his pants, bunching the fabric up around his torso as he fumbles to unfasten the clasps of his trousers. Sebastian wiggles his hips until he is free from the constricting clothes, his cock twitching as it makes contact with the cool air of the room.

With a shaky hand he grasps himself, hissing as his fingers clench of their own accord. He tries to pace himself, but the Amortentia forces him to focus on nothing but his arousal and deep seeded fantasy of claiming Sloane, fucking her until she is nothing but a whimpering mess beneath him.

God what he wouldn't do to have her right now, to have her delicate hand wrapped around his length, to be buried deep inside her core, not stopping until they both stumble over the edge of ecstasy.

His strokes become even as his hips jerk up to meet his hand, the vivid, imagined vision of Sloane before him—on top of him—making it impossible to hold back. A tiny, desperate plea forms in the back of his throat as he rolls onto his side, wondering if there is some deity that might grant his one desire. Sebastian reaches up with his free hand, grabbing Sloane's robe and pressing it to his face so he can breathe in the sweet smell of her perfume and stifle his groans.

In his fevered delusion, it is almost as if she is really there, her lithe and naked body writhing against him as their moans filled the otherwise empty room. He whispers her name over and over again before the syllables bubble on the tip of his tongue, tumbling out in a cry, "Sloane!"

With a strangled croak he meets his end, spilling onto his fist and the chaise cushions. Sebastian lays there, his whole body tense as the remainder of his release flows through him. The intense passion fades away, dissolving into a deep guilt that sinks his heart into the pit of his stomach. An overwhelming wave of exhaustion hits him before he can do more than tug his pants back into place.

He faints, or at least momentarily loses consciousness.

When he flutters open his eyes, Sebastian isn't sure how much time has passed. For a moment, he doesn't even realize he's still in the Undercroft, or that his head isn't resting against a pillow but Sloane's thigh instead.

He blinks, the feel of her fingers brushing through his hair comforting, if not equally terrifying. What feels like a damp rag passes across his forehead and he glances up to see her face.

"Am I dreaming?"

"No," she answers with a small smile. "I don't think so."

His heart skips a beat. "Did you—did you see?"

"No," she says again but the slight tint to her cheeks speaks volumes. Sebastian is about to question the appearance of her blush when her voice drops into a whisper. "But I heard...everything."

Sebastian briefly wonders if he can end his own life with a killing curse, or at least set himself on fire so he can escape the rush of embarrassment and shame that settles in his bones. He blinks, air wheezing out of his parted lips once he remembers to breathe.

He gulps, the weight of his tongue heavy in his mouth. Reluctantly, he lifts his gaze to her face and is shocked to find her expression is calm. "We have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

At least Sloane is smiling when she says, "yes, we do." 

[trans-p03g]

Who's the voice claim for Veggie?

Fuck this, fuck you *turns you into a carrot*

Anyway, it's Enej! They're a Polish-Ukrainian band, I'm pretty sure their style is called folk-pop? Folk rock? Like a combination of ska, folk, pop and rock from what I read on the wiki

I was thinking about this song specifically when picking their voice claim, but the post about them singing to their partners was made while I was listening to Lili and Symetryczno-liryczna.

[en-hale]

I Think I Wanna Marry You ♡‧₊˚

Boyfriend!Jake x Fem!reader ♡‧₊˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

En-Hale Comeback ~~ Manifesto Day 4

SYNOPSIS ≕ You walk in on an adorable Jake baking cookies and singing Bruno Mars. It was only supposed to be movie night, but Jake has something else planned. Too bad you showed up 30 minutes earlier...

WARNING ≕ 18+/smut (kitchen sex, 69, cowgirl, unprotective sex). Alcohol. Mild cursing. Read at your own discretion !

WORD COUNT ≕ 1.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ≕ While this is smut, it's still very fluffy and sweet. The smut is more towards the end and it's very short. I thought of this bc I had a dream about Jake and me at a wedding, not getting married but we were just there. So this fic was born! Please enjoy! Tune into day 5 tomorrow at 10pm CST!

© to en-hale. no translations/reposts etc. (w/out permission!)

──•°.-ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ-.°•──

Jake's singing voice carries all the way to you, who was just beginning to unlock the door to his apartment.

It was still a phenomenon when Jake handed you the spare key to his place. You left it sitting on your nightstand, watching it in awe thinking of how he wanted you to come to his place anytime you needed to, no matter the day, and no matter the time. He even suggested that you bring a few of your things over so that you can stay for periods of time.

But it was weird thinking of the both of you being domestic. Always being together within arms reach, sharing appliances and food, saying good morning and good night in person, the 'I love you's before leaving for the day. It racked your brain a mile a minute.

However, most of the time he's so busy that you'll walk in, and the house is dead silent. But today was different. Jake begged you to meet him at a specific time at his house. But once you were done running errands, you arrived 30 minutes earlier.

His voice is still carrying out, you're positive now that he was singing a Bruno Mars song, the one about marriage.

As you walked through the front door, you're immediately hit with the aroma of something baking. It smelt amazing, kind of like the cookies that Jake made you anytime you were down about something.

You grow a fuzzy warmth in your heart thinking about him baking for you. But what was the occasion? You weren't sad, no big holiday, nothing he had announced or you either.

"Hey baby -- I think I wanna marry you." His voice sang out. You rounded the corner into the kitchen and get to the whole setup. There were candles on the dining table, but they had not yet been lit up. Giant bouquets of roses were placed everywhere in the room, the white and pink ones that you gushed to him about years ago when you both started dating. Food was already decked out on the table and there Jake was, opening the oven to take out the perfectly baked snickerdoodles.

"Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go- oh!"

Jake turns towards you and abruptly stops singing. His mouth hangs open in surprise. His splatter of freckles on his nose and cheek disappears under his harsh blush.

"Uh -- Um -- hi." He scratched the back of his head and you laugh at how adorable he is. You walked up and kissed his cheek in greeting and took a deep breath to pull in his delighted cologne, the one he wore when you both went on expensive dates.

"What's the occasion?" You smiled cheekily.

You watch his eyes scan for an answer. Instead, he doesn't say anything and takes you in a warm kiss.

"I wasn't expecting you for another 30 minutes."

He sat in the dining chair and you plant yourself comfortably on his lap. "Yeah, but I didn't feel like wasting time, so I thought I stop by early. I thought we were doing a movie tonight." You gesture at your grandiose surroundings and he gives a nervous chuckle.

"Yeah, but -- I thought dinner would be nicer."

"It is!" You giggle, kissing his cheek. You leap off his lap and into the other chair across from him.

Ten minutes later the both of you sat in genial silence while eating grilled chicken with broccoli and a side salad. You both moaned when taking in the first bite of the deliciously juicy meat, but after that, you noticed Jake barely touched his food, mindlessly rolling around the broccoli with his fork.

"Not hungry?" You're the first to break the quiet. Jake was startled for a second like you woke him up from his trance.

His fork fell out of his hand with a loud clank sound. He took a deep breath. "Tonight was almost perfect." He exclaimed.

You furrow your eyebrows, "Almost?'

Jake rose and wandered over to the kitchen drawer. He rustled around inside and turned towards you with an awkward smile. You could see slight sweat beads traveling down his temples.

"I'm so deeply in love with you that I can never find the words that really explain that clearly," Jake spoke, but it was so quiet that you practically had to perk your ears to hear. He took another shaky breath and continued speaking. "You're so open and caring and diligent and smart and funny and I wish that you could see from my point of view how fucking beautiful you are because -- geesh." His blush crept up again, but you could barely see it through the tears forming in your eyes. You clasped your hands together and covered your mouth, aghast at what was happening.

Jake watches and nervously laughs to keep his own tears from falling down. "I didn't buy this apartment because I wanted my own space and privacy away from the others," His voice cracked and he swallowed down another lump of tears.

"I bought this place because I want a place that we can call ours, and back when I bought it, I was too much of a wimp to ask you then, but now -" You watched his tears fall from his face. You were practically weeping. "I'm so sure that I can't wait anymore." He walked to you and knelt down. From behind his back, he pulled out a small jewelry box and your heart stopped.

"This is me telling you that I am finally in a place where I am more than sure, I'm certain. I'm secure with where I am, and everything I have done up until this point to feel more than ready to ask you this question that I'm praying you say yes to." He pulled open the box and the fluorescent light glimmers down on the sterling rock and it glitters in your eyes. "Will you give me the honor of becoming your husband?"

Words wouldn't form, and you weren't sure if they would in the state that you were currently in. So you hoped that pulling him into a kiss would satisfy his question. He grabbed your face and kissed back. Seconds went by of both of you kissing and whining and crying.

He breaks away for just a second. "That means yes right?"

You giggled and nodded. He slipped the ring onto your ring finger and a moment later he held out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He popped the cork and alcohol fizzled in the cups. You both down them like it's water and are back kissing desperately.

Jake lifts you off the chair and onto the counter where he fits between your thighs and feels against your hips. You placs a calming bite on his neck and he shudders and a breathy moan rose from his throat.

"You want to do this now? We hadn't gotten to the dessert yet." You laugh at how easily his words could turn into something naughty.

"This is dessert." You whispered close to his ear. He shuddered again.

A moment later clothes went flying and without hesitation, you went for what you wanted since you stepped inside.

Your dainty fingers teased Jake's sensitive skin. Your lips ran in similar motion to your hand and he thrashed and groaned from underneath you, where he worked at lapping within your folds and keeping steady hands on your ass. All of this took place on top of the cold marble counters that once held possessions of other things but now those were thrown to the floor.

You gently sucked him while your hand fiddled with his balls. You both took time in warming each other up before he slipped into you. Your hips matched in rhythm very quickly, your tongue danced in his mouth when it wasn't busy busting out lustful moans.

It wasn't until very late in the night when Jake allowed you to release around his ridiculously long cock. You both came at the same time and let out mewling whines.

Nobody said anything, it was only heavy breathing and the occasional sound of something else falling off the counter.

"Fuck --" Jake panted. "Those were the snickerdoodles,"

And you both laughed in-between pants of air.

Right now nothing could've been more perfect. Jake was your fiance -- soon to be husband. You said your name attached with his last and smiled to yourself.

Soon -- very soon, you'd be Mrs. Sim, and there was nothing you wanted more than that.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Ok you amazing person. Demon Sapnap, but the reader is really sick or maybe is in an accident and ends up in hospital. Sapnap and Dream both visit and get jealous of eachother. Eventually Dream leaves and Sapnap is just there like 👁👄👁 And then after a day or two the reader is finally home and Sapnap is like really pent up because he has been jealous Horny and reader has been in hospital and he just rails them, but softly because reader is still weak. Basically jealous soft-dom Demon Sapnap.

This is just an idea- by no means do you have to write it :)

I'm begrudgingly writing Dre as Mr. Steal Your Girl for obvious reasons (/ j), but also I couldn't pass down this idea for incubus 3 ;) I'm also going to include a few other requests I had about Sap's backstory and some smut. enjoy!

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 & 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (𝟏𝟖+)

warnings: smut (18+), spanking, degradation, thigh riding, domination, literally quoting the b!ble

here's a playlist for those of you that were asking for it. i would love to see what the rest of you are listening to :)

previous part

You opened your eyes slowly, the ache in your body fully coming to your attention as you noticed the metronome of beeps coming from the machines connected to the tubes in your arm. You turned your head, squinting as your eyes struggled to focus on the figure beside you. After a few minutes, your brain pieced together his features and your heart eased when you realized it was Sapnap. For some, obviously ungodly reason, his presence brought you a sense of calm.

His feet were kicked up on the edge of your bed, his eyes scanning over a magazine as he chewed on his bottom lip absent-mindedly. He was dressed more casually than he usually was, probably an attempt at blending into the general public. You reached out a hand, fingers brushing against the soft material of his dark crewneck to get his attention. His gaze moved to look at you, a smirk painting across his pink lips.

You cleared your throat, tongue feeling like sandpaper. “What happened?” You grumbled, reaching beside him for the remote to elevate your head.

He watched your movements carefully. “You got a fever and then passed out cold,” he reminded you softly, making you groan. “Dehydration.” You couldn’t remember what he was talking about, only feeling nauseous in the middle of the night.

“How long have I been here?” You asked, rolling your head on your shoulders as your neck cracked, your limbs popping as you moved slightly. The IV pinched your arm as you moved, making you hiss quietly, making his eyes focus on where it was attached.

He hummed in thought. “A few hours. They wanna keep you until tomorrow, just in case you die or something,” he shrugged, tossing the magazine on the couch in the corner of the room.

You rubbed one of your eyes, a yawn rippling through you. “And why are you here?”

He chuckled. “Obvious reasons,” he stated, nodding towards the bite on your shoulder. “Also, Saint Dream was the first on your emergency contact list, so…” You pulled your knees to your chest as you looked at him.

“Even if it’s just because you have a quota to meet, I’m glad you’re here,” you muttered and something flickered behind his eyes, a smug expression tugging at his lips.

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, feet planted on the ground. “You’re not part of my quota, baby.” Your cheeks flushed at his words but before you could respond, he tensed up, eyes clouding with a darkened gold. They always shifted when something was intruding. You furrowed your brows at him. “Lupus in fabula venit enim ad me,” he mumbled darkly, the venom of sarcasm dripping from his voice as a knock came at your door.

Clay stuck his head through the threshold, eyes softening at you. Sapnap watched him silently as he stepped inside, rambling off how worried he was about you. Clay seemed to ignore Sapnap’s presence as he settled a batch of roses on your nightstand. Sapnap rolled his eyes and once Clay finally acknowledged him, he made a face like he was smelling something rotten. Sapnap looked like he was ready to snap Clay in half if he approached you closer, yet his dark demeanor didn’t dissuade Clay. In fact, it seemed like Clay was hell-bent on ruffling his feathers more, pulling up a chair on the other side of you.

“I didn’t think he would be here,” Clay commented, voice dipping slightly as his sights shifted toward Sapnap, irises flashing brighter. You perked an eyebrow at him.

Sapnap scoffed, leaning back in his seat. “I’m here because she wants me here,” he commented, nearly with a boasting tone. “So, it seems like I’m in the right role to ask what the fuck you think you’re doing.” You kept silent as the two played their game of wits and egos.

Clay smirked at him as if he was in possession of some esoteric knowledge. It dawned on you that you weren’t sure how old either of them actually was. You had dated Clay for god knows how many years, yet you learned more about his past from Sapnap than you had in any of the years you were together. “It’s still in her best interest that she be given options that don’t involve your kind,” he gritted.

Sapnap laughed shortly, a cockiness settling into his appearance. “Oh yeah? In her best interest or in yours, you selfish prick.”

Clay’s jaw tensed, a sigh flooding from his nose. “We can do this more maturely, you know? Like fucking professionals.”

Sapnap shook his head. “I’m not up for negotiating,” the stated bluntly. “Go near her again and I’ll report you,” he assured, his deadpanned stare making your heartbeat quicken.

Clay swallowed, eyes glued to Sapnap’s as the pair of them flexed their dominant personalities. Clay’s eyebrow twitched as if he had thought of something, almost mockingly. “Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit,” he began, making Sapnap roll his eyes again before cutting into Clay’s quote.

“-enemy of man’s salvation. Give place to Christ in Whom you have found none of your works,” he mocked. “Try and exorcise me all you want, feather boy.”

Clay’s hand moved to curl around your wrist and Sapnap leaned against the bed, as if asking Clay to make his next move. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour-“

“Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings,” Sapnap cantered without a thought. “It’s not even the right verse for this, stupid bitch,” he grumbled.

You cleared your throat, pulling your arm away from Clay and trying not to look as if you were slinking towards Sapnap. “You should leave,” you stated, Clay’s lips pursing at your words. “I need to rest.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sapnap’s sly expression cutting into Clay.

After spending another night in the hospital, you were finally unlocking your apartment door and letting Sapnap help you out of your coat. You mumbled something about getting yourself a drink and he brushed you off, already doing it himself. Your mind was racing with questions after what you had witnessed between Clay and Sapnap. You hadn’t doubted the authenticity of Sapnap, but your mind still ran with what had happened to him. He handed you a water, sitting down on your couch as you paced slightly.

He broke into your thoughts. “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking,” he stated, unbuttoning his shirt slightly. You wanted to hex him about the fact that he probably already knew what was pounding against your temples to be asked.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, rolling over your questions to censor some of them. “The bible’s been translated and reprinted so many times, how are you still…” you gestured with your hands, unable to explain where you were going with your statement.

He chuckled, brushing a hand against his chin. “It really doesn’t matter if it’s actually God’s word or not. It’s a guide, like an outline. Rules, I guess. Think about it like the Constitution.”

“I thought demons like… burned up when someone quoted the bible at them…”

His face fell a bit at this. “No, we just can’t read it,” his tone was almost regretful, sending guilt to pulse through your body because you had asked. “It’s like it’s in a completely different language, and each time I look at it, it shifts around the page. When you get dragged into hell, something happens with your eyes.” He huffed slightly, wetting his lips. “It's kind of like an isolation thing. He wants you to be completely aside from him.”

Your mind clicked, eyeing your heirloom display case. “Can I try something?” You asked, popping open one of the doors after he hummed in response. You fished out your grandmother’s rosary, the cross feeling almost heavy in your hands. You turned on your heel, bringing it closer to him before dangling it in front of him. His eyes drifted away from it, his gaze turning up to you. “Does this bug you?” You probed, making him snort. He took it in his hand, thumb caressing over the design.

He shook his head, chewing on his lip. “It’s a shameful thing really. I feel guilty whenever I look at this kind of stuff,” he muttered; you sat on the arm of his chair and looked over his shoulder. He turned, looping it around your neck. “Does it bug you?”

You held it away from your chest. “For different reasons, I guess.” You stood again, putting it back in its spot beside a photo of your grandfather. “Why’d you get kicked out?” You queried softly, peering over your shoulder.

He was watching you. “Maybe another time.”

“What about your childhood?” You asked. “Did you have one?”

“I know more about your childhood than I do my own. Why all the questions?” He countered with a soft laugh.

You shrugged. “I want to get to know you…” You mumbled, your hand drifting up to rest on your shoulder, feeling heat coming off of his scaring bite mark. “How do you know when to show up?”

He sighed, leaning his back against the chair and stretching his legs. “I can feel when you get anxious. Angels have some kind of block though, that’s why it took me so long to realize you needed me when that bastard was over here.” He shook his head almost like a new fire about Dream had been lit. His eyes flickered up to you. “Unless you weren’t scared.” You shook your head quickly at his joke. He chuckled. “How does it make you feel that I’m in your head sometimes?”

You approached him again. “Narcissistic,” you answered plainly, sinking to your knees before him. You ran your hands up his thighs, a smirk growing on his features as he sat up to be closer to you. “What happens after I die? Eternal damnation?” You questioned, as his hand went to brush against your arms.

He pressed his lips to your neck before digging his fingers into your hair as if he’d been waiting to touch you for days. You hummed as he kissed you, the slight scruff of his unshaven face feeling soft against your cheek. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that. I think I’ll make you immortal or something. Being with me should be enough damnation,” he jeered, making you laugh. “Most of my colleagues take the souls of their targets and leave, but I enjoy your company,” he teased.

“But you already have my soul, right?” The line felt strange coming from your mouth.

His lips brushed against yours. “There’s still an innocent piece of you that I haven’t tapped into. Everyone has it; I like it in you.”

Your eyebrows perked at this, fingers digging into his thighs to make him groan. “What do you mean?”

He kissed you briefly, actions getting needier the longer you were between his legs. “It’s completely pure. Untampered by sin or desire. When a demon gets it, they go feral,” he mumbled, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, teeth dragging across your skin.

You tilted your head to the side, fingers tracing over his zipper. “Take it from me,” you breathed, leaning into his touch.

“No,” he answered blatantly.

You moaned as his tongue slipped against your collarbones. “I want you to have it,” you continued, voice uneven. His fingers tugged at your hair.

His breath was warm against your shoulders. “I’ll take it after a few years. I don’t want it now.”

You pushed him away from you, his eyes already blown with lust as you looked into them. “You just said demons want it so badly. Take mine.”

He chuckled, hands dropping to your jaw. “No,” he repeated, voice light.

You sat back on your heels, looking up at him with a tilted expression. “Is mine not good enough for you?”

He wheezed. “No, it’s perfect. I just… After I take it, it’s like you’re dead. You’re not the same. Your humanity is gone.” He pulled you back up towards him. “I’ll take it when I’m ready to escort you to hell.”

You quipped an eyebrow. “Oh, so you just don’t want me to see your place?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. “Maybe Clay was right. What’s the verse about confession?”

His eyes darkened playfully. “For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” It was mind boggling how he could probably quote the whole Bible and was as… sinful… as he was. “Bring up Dream again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”

Your eyelashes fluttered. “You bargain for a fun game," you quipped.

He chuckled darkly. "It was more a light-hearted threat, dove," he muttered.

You sat forward and pressed your lips against his hungrily, letting him pull you into his lap as his fingers curled into the loose ends of your hair. Your fingers ripped at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest to you as he tugged at your own clothing. Your teeth dragged against his lips as his hips ground up against you, needy for friction.

You pushed your tongue into his mouth, moaning as his hands moved to your thighs, his blunt nails raking against your jeans. You rolled your hips against his lap, feeling him harden beneath you. He spread his legs further, coaxing you to grind against him as his hands pushed you down to rut against his leg.

You were breathless as you pulled away from him, one of his hands fisting in your t-shirt to bring you close to him, lips and tongue pressing against your neck. "I didn't tell you to stop riding my thigh," he commented darkly, bouncing his knee to make you moan.

Your hand wrapped around the wrist of his hand holding you in place, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as heat spread across your body. He pulled your shirt over your head, your bare chest at his mercy. Your mind blurred at the sensation and the feeling of him sucking his mark into your skin, making it clear who you belonged to.

You moaned, digging your face into his neck as he rolled his hips against your leg. "Please, Sapnap. I need you," you whimpered, voice a soft whisper in his ear. He chuckled darkly, ripping your pants down your legs as you fumbled to unzip his slacks.

He pulled you onto him without warning, a groan leaving your lips as he suddenly filled you up. "Bold of you to beg for me after associating with that bastard," he bit, thrusting up into you. "I should tie you up and let you suffer for that."

You moaned at his dark tone, grinding your hips against him. Your lips ghosted against his as your cheeks began to feel warm from the stimulation. "I might like that," you jested, your sentence breaking with your voice as he harshly grabbed your hips, driving himself into you harder.

"You're lucky you're still weak," he nipped, voice swirling with lust and power. "I'd throw you over my knee for that comment." His fingers dug into your hips, grinding against you as you bounced on top of him. You moaned at his words. His hand snaked up to wrap around your throat, threatening to apply pressure as he continued to direct your movements, thrusting into you at a deep and reserved pace. "Dirty girl. You want me to punish you, don't you?"

When all you could do was mutter a small beg, he pulled you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a mess of hair, teeth, and tongue. He moaned into your mouth, the taste of his breath was addictive and bliss-inducing.

He pulled you off of him and onto the couch beside him, slipping his shirt the rest of the way off. "I'll fuck the angel lover out of you," he joshed, a hand coming down sharply across your ass; the pain making you moan his name, hands gripping the couch as he pressed your shoulders into the cushion.

He dragged your hips into the air, pushing into you again, rocking his hips against yours with a small grunt. His teeth were sharp against your skin as he pounded into you and an animalistic pace, your mind numbing at the feeling. He pushed your knees further apart to pump himself deeper into you.

You moaned as his weight settled on the hand pinning you to the couch, your hair sticking to your sweaty face as he spanked you again, hand gripping your irritated skin. "Good girl. Take it," he nearly growled, making your skin crawl with an added layer of pleasure. While his pace and mannerisms were ruthless, he was definitely holding back, knowingly going easy on you because of your already weak body. That didn't mean he wasn't reminding you of your sour attitude as he pulled your arm behind your back, his hips snapping against your own to firmly instill his name in your mind.

You reached for the arm rest, a grounding element for you as his motions drove you over the edge in a teeth gritting orgasm, boy flushing with goosebumps under his command. You rocked your hips back against him as he pulled out, jerking himself off instead of giving you the satisfaction of finishing him off.

You groaned as you turned to look at him. "Feeling okay?" He asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade. You shook your head quickly and his eyebrow quipped ever so slightly. "Good," he stated, pulling you up and onto the ground in front of him again. He grabbed your cheeks. "I still don't think you've learned," he muttered, leaning back into his previous position. "Blow me," he directed, tucking an arm behind his head. "And with the mouth, one confesses and is saved, remember," he taunted.

Your eyes flashed up to his devious expression as he leered at you from his commanding spot.

It was going to be a long night.

And you were ready for it.

Taglist: (to join, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @deepestofwaters @glowstick-cafe @unstableye @tinyegg @darphobic @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg

[twinklelilstarkey]

hi! can i please make a request with rafe using prompt “Tell me about your day.” 🥰

“Tell me about your day” - Rafe Cameron

A/N.: Of course, baby. Hope you like this.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Rafe really likes hanging out with his dad. When it’s just them, at least, since he feels pretty left out whenever Sarah, Wheezie, or, god, Rose is in the boat with them.

That is solely because the 3 of them never liked the idea of fishing all that much, therefore, the whole family always has to leave hours early all because they want to leave. Which in other words means: less time between Rafe and his dad, as well as any well spent time on his Saturday, because of all the whining.

So, yes, whenever the Cameron men are alone, Rafe associates it with a good time. Also as the time when he can speak to his dad and try to get some more communication into their relationship. Which usually does happen and does usually work.

Well, not today.

Ward Cameron woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. He was in a bad mood right as the sun rose, exactly when they were supposed to leave the house. And for the first few hours, he didn’t talk to his son, he just stayed far away from him, on the other side of the boat, sipping his coffee while Rafe got everything ready to start their usual fishing Saturday.

He did start talking some time later, but to be quite honest, Rafe would’ve preferred him to just not talk at all and stay in his silence and in his corner of the boat for the rest of the day. Right as he opened his mouth, the theme of conversation was Rafe’s imperfect academic life and how he still hasn’t gotten any letters back from colleges accepting or rejecting him.

And the fact that he sighed loudly at those words did not make anything any better for him. All because he exhaled slightly bit loud, Ward took that as “Oh, so I’m boring you now?”.

Rafe did surprise himself by not bittering back to his dad and by staying silent the whole time, looking at the water and just letting his mind run free on his own world.

But let's just say that when you’re in a boat, with no reception, Wi-Fi, and surrounded by only water, sunrise to sunset seems to go by slower than normal.

It was a very long day.

Now, he’s walking down back to the house. The skies around him are colored with all types of pinks and oranges, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. He just wants to be as far away as possible from his dad at this point.

Before Ward could even step out of the boat, Rafe was already up on his bike, helmet on his head, and ready to drive off. And as he did, the French doors of his home open to show Rose, ready to welcome her husband home.

Thank god he’s out of there already.

The drive to your house was quick, so quick that Rafe wasn’t even able to reflect on what happened back on the boat.

You’re laying on your bed, wearing nothing but an old shirt and some shorts as you try to fight off the summer heat that has been practically melting you all day. You’re laying on your stomach, legs naturally up as you lean your cheek to your fist and watch random videos on your laptop.

To say you almost screamed at your bedroom door opening so suddenly is a very large understatement. You felt like you had a small heart attack to be quite honest.

Rafe stands by your door, closing it right behind him as he throws his hat to a corner and, right after, he throws himself on your bed to lay beside you.

“You okay?” You ask him.

He doesn’t answer so you just close your laptop, sit up and turn your position around to lay back down facing him. Rafe opens his eyes as you move around and he doesn’t say anything, nor does he smile - like he usually does.

“Want to talk about it?” You try again, laying your head on your pillow, now laying on your back.

He lifts himself off the mattress slightly and shakes his head at you, still not saying anything. When you’re about to ask again, he lays his head over your chest and wraps his arms around you.

The sudden request of affection surprised you a bit, but you do as asked. You wrap your arms around him and lay a kiss on the top of his head, over his hair, and right as you do it, he speaks.

“Can you tell me about your day?” He asks you.

“Uh, yeah? But I didn’t do mu-” You try to say, but he interrupts.

“It's fine. I just want to think about something other than my dad.” He says, voice muffled by your shirt.

You lay another kiss over his hair and move a bit under him before starting to talk.

“Uh, so...” You say, extending the syllable while thinking, “I woke up at like, 10ish? Had breakfast with my mom-”

“What did you eat?”

You grin at his question and answer quickly.

“Pancakes.”

He lets out a small groan at your words and your teasing tone and your grin stretches into a smile. He could kill to be invited for breakfast again and eat those heavenly pancakes.

He’s just so tired of Rose’s god damned healthy smoothies.

“Then I watched her favorite show with her. At least until we had to go get lunch...” You stop to see if Rafe questions what you ate again, but he doesn’t, “We ate pizza, nothing too exciting.”

He groans again and you smile at him.

His day consisted of sandwiches and drinking water, you can’t blame him.

“There’s leftovers if you’re interested.” You offer and he lifts his head from your chest to look at you.

“Really?” He asks and you nod.

“Yeah, they’re by the fridge, I think.”

As soon as your sentence ends, Rafe plants a kiss on your cheek and flights up from the bed, sprinting out of your room, down your stairs, and into the kitchen while you just laughed at him.

His eyes lay over the cardboard box and when he opens it, he feels like he’s in heaven. 

After heating up the food on a plate, Rafe sprints up the stairs and you’re still on your bed, now on your phone.

“Please continue.” He says, regaining your attention.

He closes the door again and sits on the chair beside the bed on your desk, ready to start eating and continue to listen to you.

“Continue with what?”

“About your day.” He says before taking his first bite, “What happened after lunch?”

You throw your phone aside and start talking again, all of it while staring at your boyfriend, who is inhaling the food all satisfied and happy. He seems interested in your average summer vacation day, which surprised you. 

Even when you told him that your neighbor had come over, he was excited and asking questions.

But for him, he just felt relief. He’s not thinking about his dad. Not thinking about his sisters and stepmother. Or even whatever his dad told him in the boat. His mind is on you only, as well as all the kinds of gossip you got today. And that is the most relief anyone can give him.

Sorry it took me so long to write this.

[bruhlsbees]

sapphire strings || modern!andrea marowski x gn!reader

summary: andrea marowski is an exchange student from poland and reader's stand partner in their orchestra

pairing: modern!andrea marowski x female!reader

warnings: super fluffy, possibly bad polish translations, stupidly disgustingly sweet

word count: 3,588

a/n: i just watched ladies in lavender for the first time and i adore andrea so much - such a sweet sweet boy, if you can catch the poor white chicks reference in this i will love you forever.....also check out @creme-bruhlee newest andrea marowski fanfiction because they've only posted the first chapter and you can tell it's already going to be wonderful!!

The auditorium echoed with the sounds of sheet music rustling, instruments being tuned, and those who ignored the conductor and chose to continue to play their instruments, despite others needing to desperately tune their own. It was rather chaotic - but you expected nothing different as the orchestra was preparing to enter a new concert cycle, the crazed energy still among many as the conductor passed out the new piece.

Sitting in the back, all alone, you waited until the violinists in front passed your copy of the new piece back to you. For the new concert, the orchestra would be playing ‘Dvorak - New World Symphony’. Everyone was surprised to say the least when the conductor had announced it. While it wasn’t too challenging for most of those who were in the orchestra, it still gave the conductor enough room to push you all for what he knew you could achieve.

When the girl in front of you turned around, smiling as she extended her arm out above your stand to hand you your copy, you snatched it quickly from her, eyes lighting up as you set it flat on your stand, opening the booklet to scan your section. You ignored her laugh, and the rolling of her eyes, paying attention only to the set of notes - airbowing along as you hummed to yourself.

Despite being last chair in the first violin section, you were just as enthusiastic as the others - perhaps even more than some. You didn’t mind sitting in the back, alone, it meant that you had to only rely on yourself and if you screwed up it was your fault...that and you didn’t drag anyone down with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, the idea of having a stand partner was not something that you were fond of.

Continuing to airbow, body swaying to the music that played in your head, your motions came to a slow stop as you heard the conductor tap his baton on his stand, raising his hands to gather the attention of everyone. You hadn’t realized until looking up, but there was someone new standing beside him. Someone younger who held his violin close to his chest.

This was weird, you weren’t expecting to have any new member of the orchestra.

“Everyone! Please, settle down for just a moment,” The conductor began, hushing the orchestra with his hands before smiling at the silence, “As you may know, we are transitioning from our previous concert cycle and into our new one-” The claps and whistles that erupted from the percussion section sent out an erupt of laughters from the orchestra, even a stifled one from the conductor. Shaking his head, the conductor tapped on the stand to gather everyone back in.

“Yes, glad to hear we have some enthusiasm over that...anyways, as I was saying, we are entering our new concert cycle and there will be some minor changes with our orchestra. This isn’t a bad thing, but a good thing! We will be having a new violinist joining us all the way from Poland.” Motioning towards the gentleman beside him, the conductor smiled and nudged for the gentleman to step up on the podium with him.

“This here is Andrea Marowski. He will be performing with us for this next concert cycle. Now Andrea, if I remember correctly, you said you played quite frequently back home?”

You watched as the shy boyish grin on Andrea’s face spread, cheeks going pink as he nodded, obviously not too much of a fan with the attention drawn to him. “Tak, I play for Poland orchestra.”

The heavy Polish accent slowed his words a bit, as if he were trying to make sure to annunciate what he was saying in English correctly. You caught yourself smiling ever so slightly, thinking it was cute to see him try so hard.

Your conductor, however, was not as swooned over the Polish violinist as you were. He nodded, clapping the man’s back, before turning Andrea towards your section. You watched as he pointed at you, whispering something to Andrea before returning to the podium. Your smile dropped slightly, shifting in your seat as Andrea approached your stand, hovering next to the open seat that was on the inside.

“Witaj! I was told to sit here?” The statement sounded more like a question, and perhaps that was because the expression that stained your face was not the most welcoming. You were comfortable with the routine you had for yourself - and now it seemed like things were messing up.

“Well if you were told to sit here, you probably are meant to sit here.” You mumbled after a moment of silence, watching as he tilted his head to the side, confused as he didn’t quite catch what you had said. Before he could ask you to repeat what you had said, you were already moving down towards his chair, pulling some of your folders from the chair to set under your own.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Andrea tentatively take a seat, as if he knew that the seat wasn’t meant for him. His back was straight, stiff, like he was already going in to play. You wondered just how big of a deal this guy was over in Poland, because the way he held himself with his violin said almost enough.

To distract yourself from your new stand partner, you vigorously went to work airbowing the song, eyes fixed only on the pages in front of you. You weren’t usually the one to get flustered so easily over something so small, but this piece was something you were looking forward to for a long time and you wanted- needed, it to be perfect.

The sudden rap of the baton hitting the stand caught your attention, pulling you from the piece and up at the conductor, smiling at everyone with his warm smile. The two of you were close, having practiced many years with him - he was almost like a father to you - perhaps if you talked with him alone, he would change the seating arrangement?

“Is everyone ready to practice sight reading?” When a few nods were shook, he raised his hands, preparing to conduct, “Remember the emphasis of sight reading. I do not expect perfection, but to see where we are all at with this piece.”

Taking a deep breath, you raised your violin to your shoulder, adjusting the instrument to not slip from your shoulder before resting your chin on the rest, your back arched straight and foot tapping to the tempo from the metronome. When the conductor began, the strings shot down, moving to the director of the conductor.

At first you were dialed into the music, absorbing every note you could, not processing your surroundings too much until you finally heard Andrea playing beside you. You noticed that he liked to play rather dramatically, drawing out the notes that you wouldn’t think to, but nonetheless it sounded far better than your own. Was this jealousy? Perhaps; you had been with the orchestra for years and kept in the back - so when someone new shows up and clearly is better than you, you couldn’t help but kick yourself.

Shifting your sight from the paper and to Andrea, you began to airbow to watch him. His dark brows were furrowed, lips pursed, concentrating on doing his best for the sight reading. You thought to yourself how he looked funny - like a little kid being angry. You couldn’t help but smile, despite their own emotions feeling rage.

You didn’t know how long you were staring at him, airbowing sloppily, because when you looked up from his fingers and back to his face, his eyes were on you, and the expression on his face was not one of pleasure. With a ‘what are you doing’ expression, he motioned towards the booklet before it finally hit you that you missed the page turn.

With crimson ears, a burning sensation rose up your neck and to your face. You quickly turned and flipped the page, both of you doing your best to figure out where you were, but by the time you found it, the conductor had already stopped. This was embarrassing. How could you miss a page turn? Now he was probably thinking that you were an idiot!

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a soft exhale, listening as the conductor praised you for doing better than he had expected. Your thoughts were racing, too quickly for your brain to process anything. The only thing that you managed to process, however, was Andrea’s voice directed towards you.

“Ołówek?”

Snapping your head towards your left and at him, your frown deepened, confused as to what you had said to you, “I beg your pardon?”

He went to say the word again before his mouth snapped shut, frowning as he tried to think of the word before making a scribbling motion, hoping you would get the hint. It took you a moment, but you soon realized what he was asking of you.

“Oh, pencil. Yeah, hold on.” Dipping down, you opened your case and pulled out a pencil, handing it to him. You watched as he smiled, taking the pencil before leaning forward, putting a giant star above the fourth to last measure of the page, indicating for you to turn the page.

You knew that the gesture wasn’t meant to come off rude - but you were already embarrassed and it felt insulting to watch him draw such an obvious cue for you to remember. Andrea, innocent as always, looking over at you, cheeks pink, a smile across his face, as if he were proud of the stupid little star on the page.

Before your own annoyance burst, you were thankful to hear your conductor begin dismissing everyone for the day, saying that they should go out and enjoy the sun while it lasted. Packing your things up quickly, you all but ignored Andrea beside you, who was slowly packing up, a sad beaten puppy dog expression on his face.

When you finished packing, standing up and dragging your chair with the others to be stacked, you left the auditorium in a hurry, not saying goodbye to anyone. When you exited the auditorium, going down the hall, before finally reaching the fresh air of outside, you all but grumbled to yourself, kicking at the loose stones that passed you by.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The rocks that you laid on were not comfortable, although they were dulled by the pain that coursed through you. The thin blanket didn’t provide much cushion, but warmth as the sun passed behind clouds, the wind picking up and pulling the waves in higher. You had your eyes closed, blocking the sun from directing into your pupils, blinding you completely.

Coming to the beach always seemed to help your consciousness nowadays, especially when you had a particularly hard day. You were beginning to sink in guilt with how you acted today in practice. The universe directed you onto a path to something new, something great, and you blew it on your own personal insecurities.

“So practice is going to be held every day. Starts at noon, ends at two. I want you to know that this might not be an easy transition for you, you understand? Your accident left you with permanent damage in your hand, you might not play the same aga-”

“So am I not supposed to try? To get back up, pick up my bow, and try until my hand falls off? Please...you were the one who told me all those years to never give up on myself, and now it seems as though you are. I want to be here, I was meant to be here. I can do this. I know I’m rusty, I do, but if I just give up now, I would never forgive myself.”

The conductor pursed his lips, nodding sadly at you before reaching his hand over the desk, taking your weaker one in his, holding it tenderly.

“You’re lucky to be able to still use your hand. I don’t want you to overdo it. You know I enjoy you in the orchestra, but you have to think about the rest of your life. What is to come of you if you lose the ability to use your hand by next spring? Then what?”

You knew the question was meant to sink in - to make you realize that it was important to think into the future...but that was just it, you didn’t think of the future, you thought about the moment, what was going on in the present.

Leaning forward, you placed your stronger hand on his, smiling at him, “And what if I don’t lose my hand by next spring? Have I given up on a whole year to grow? To one day sit back again in the first chair? This is my choice, and I will take all of your concerns to the heart, but at the end of the day, if I want to play, I’ll be damn sure that I am in one of those chairs.”

The determination was something the conductor had been fond of with you. The flicker of hope you always had in your eyes radiated onto the others which brought for a positive environment and a stronger bond within the orchestra.

And now - a year and a half later, your hand was growing stronger each day, and your skill was catching back up to where you were before the accident. You were still not where you wanted to be, nor where you wanted, but it was a start. A start in the right direction. The conductor explained that for the year coming back from your accident you would sit in the back, learn sometimes slower than the others, to make sure you didn’t strain your hand.

At first you were enraged by the decision, but as time went on, you knew it was for the better. The year off from first chair was only that - a year - a year compared to a lifetime didn’t seem too bad by the end of the day. And so when the Polish violinist waltzed into the room, showcasing the same enthusiasm you once held, it saddened you, reminded you of your own demons.

He was better than you, and you hated to admit it - because you knew that you would never be as good as him again. But that wasn’t his fault, and that’s why you were here now, on the beach, drowning in your sorrows.

Holding your hands close to you, head propped up by your violin case, you baked in the warmth of the sun, silent tears spilling down your cheeks. You took in a shaky breath and held it for a moment, listening to your rapid heartbeat as you tried to calm down, before finally exhaling slow. After three more times, you felt calmer, more at peace with your surroundings.

And then the sun went out, like someone turning off the lights.

Opening your eyes, your eyebrows furrowed as you saw none other than Andrea, standing above you, with a small smile on his face. When you processed who it was, you quickly pushed yourself up off your blanket, standing up to meet his chest, looking up to his eyes.

“Witaj!” Extending his hand out, he held a small purple flower towards you, motioning for you to take it - and you did, carefully taking the flower he gave you and smiled, mumbling a thank you.

Nodding his head, Andrea stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around awkwardly before back at you, “Water pretty.” He commented, as if trying to fill the dead space between you two.

You turned your attention back towards the ocean and smiled, nodding before looking back at him, “Yes, I think so.” Twirling the purple flower in your fingers, you felt the heavy weight of the silence sit on you, wondering what to say next. Did he want something? Was he here to yell at you? Part of you knew that if he were to yell, he would have every right - after all, you were a complete jerk to him throughout practice.

But he didn’t, he never did.

Moving around you, Andrea took a seat on your blanket before patting the space beside him. At first you didn’t move, debating on whether you would want to share the space with him, but then your heart tugged, and the next thing you knew you were beside him on the blanket, shoulders pressed against one another as you both looked out towards the ocean.

“You play....” He paused, trying to think of the word he was looking for in English. While he thought, your stomach twisted in knots. What would he say? Was he looking for the word bad? No good? Despicable? Was this man going to destroy your entire career with just one wor-

“Me-Mez...merisi?” Looking down, your cheeks grew even hotter than they had in the auditorium. Did he just say that your playing was mesmerizing? You knew he must have heard the word on the television or radio, because it wasn’t a word you’d ever thought to describe yourself.

“Mesmerizing?” You questioned, watching as he nodded, agreeing proudly as he got the word right. You shook your head, laughing lightly, “I wouldn’t say that...but thank you.”

Clearing your throat, you felt silent, playing with the flower again before turning, opening your violin case to set the flower in, so it wouldn’t get lost or ruined, before closing the case again. You were then again met with the silence between you two.

And then, the bubbling sensation brewed in you again - the guilt that was eating away at you. You knew that you’d have to apologize here and now, or spend the entire night tossing and turning with another thing to feel guilty over. But you didn’t want his pity, you didn’t want to explain why you were upset because there was nothing to be upset over. That was just it though, right now wasn’t about you, at least not entirely.

Taking a deep breath, letting out an exhale, you turned and looked up at Andrea, who seemed fixed on the ocean, “Andrea?” You began, gaining his attention. When you stared into his honey eyes, the smile growing on his face, you smiled back, continuing on.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for earlier, how I acted,” You pointed at your weak hand, before dropping it back in your lap, “I was in an accident last year, hurt my hand, could not play well.” You tried to speak slow, making sure he was following before continuing on. “I was sad hearing you play, because you are...mezmerisi.”

Andrea let out a soft laugh, his smile growing until you could see the two rows of teeth in his mouth, your own laugh escaping, feeling ridiculous at the lame joke. But you were glad to see that he wasn’t mad, and for the most part, he seemed to understand.

“I understand.” Turning his attention from you and to the rocks and shells beside the blanket, his eyes lit up and leaned forward, pressing himself against you, disregarding your personal space, as he reached for a seashell, pulling back before holding it up for you to see.

Smiling, you nodded, “Seashell, yes. Pretty.” And it was - a beautiful shark’s eye moon shell with hues of blue, purple, and orange glazed over the white. You watched as he extended the shell to you before shaking your head, closing his hand with your own, “Keep it, Andrea.”

At first he seemed to be sad that you didn’t accept his gift, but soon tucked the shell into his coat pocket, turning back to look out at the sea. You followed in suit, turning and leaning against him once again slightly, looking out at the sea as the sun began to set.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you sat in your seat the next day in practice, you got your stand ready, setting your bow on the bottom shelf of the stand, a pencil ready in case you or Andrea needed it. After your talk yesterday with him, you felt better with yourself and the idea of being someone’s stand partner again. Despite your own accident, it did not make you a burden towards others. Andrea was patient and he did his best, in his poor English, to make it known that he would help you when you needed it.

So when he came in that day, a glowing smile on his face, bidding the conductor and others in your section a ‘good afternoon’, he soon came to you, sitting in his chair to your left before pulling out his things; rosin, an extra pencil, and the seashell he found yesterday.

Blushing, your attention shifted from the seashell and to him, a smirk on your face as you got him smirking back, acting nonchalant while getting his shoulder rest ready and tuning his violin.

Maybe it was a placebo effect on your mind, maybe it was the seashell, the conversation yesterday with Andrea, your conversation with the conductor a year ago, or your own realization that your own growth would make you better than you’ve ever played before - but in a different way.

Whatever it was though, that day during practice, was the best practice you’d had in a very long time.

[13uswntimagines]

Always Hers (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: A sequel to Always Yours where Kelley introduces Sonnett to reader and they hit it off, and a relationship builds. Basically it’s 7000 words of Emily and reader falling in love, Christen realizing she royally messed up, Tobin freaking out just a touch, and Kelley totally not gloating about it. 

Author’s Note: This was requested by @women-enthusiast​

Emily was terrified. She had been having the time of her life, sat in the front row of an Y/n L/n concert dancing next to Kelley. Hell, during Shut Up and Dance you had even winked in their direction (making all of the girls around them swoon). But about halfway through the show, a very large man had come to stand in front of them.  

He had simply stood and stared, leaving them mostly alone until the very end of the show. He sent them a small smile and an “if you two ladies could come with me please”, before escorting them out of the crowd and deeper into the stadium. Which every turn down the twisting hallway, she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter and tighter. What the fuck was happening? 

“You gotta relax before you have an aneurism. Everything will be fine,” Kelley said quietly as the man led them through a door and into a cozy-looking room. 

A couch sat against one wall, a Stanford sweatshirt thrown carelessly across it and a guitar propped up beside it. The sound of running water gave them a very good guess of what was behind the door on the opposing wall. 

Emily took a deep breath, holding in a gasp. This couldn’t be what she thought it was. 

“If you would please wait here, Ms. L/n will be with you in a few minutes. Feel free to help yourself to the table,” The man smiled, gesturing towards the table filled with water and a fruit tray across from the comfy looking couch. 

Kelley rolled her eyes, immediately making her way over to the food table to peruse the options. She scrunched her nose as she looked over the items. 

“Well this is bullshit,” She mumbled, grabbing a grape and popping it into her mouth. Emily frowned, unsure as to how Kelley could be so casual right now. 

“What?” She asked, stepping towards the table. She blinked at the spread. There was way too much food on the table for one person. 

“There aren’t any chocolate-covered strawberries. They always used to be on her riders,” Kelley mumbled, puffing her cheeks out as she grabbed her another grape. Emily frowned. How the fuck did she know what was supposed to be on the table? She opened her mouth to ask the question, but a voice behind her beat her to it. 

“Apparently they were unavailable this last minute,” Emily whipped around in shock, her eyes bulging at the sight of you in a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, casually running a towel through your hair. You smiled crookedly at them, your dimples on full display. It wasn’t your stage smile though, Emily noted (barely able to take her eyes off your exposed biceps enough to actually think about it). It was easier, more natural.

“Holy shit, you’re-“ Emily studdered, her brain unable to process that you were standing right in front of her. Your lips quirked in amusement before you looked past the blond to your favorite defender. 

“You couldn’t come and greet us yourself, you had to send oddjob after us?” Kelley asked, tossing another grape in her mouth and crossing her arms. She hadn’t brought Emily here to set you up, but her reaction was definitely amusing. She also hadn’t missed the extra blinks you had given the blond defender. Perhaps her plan was going to work better than expected. 

You rolled your eyes at the woman. Greg had been your security guard for years and she still refused to learn his name. You were just lucky that their presence hadn’t caused a riot in the crowd. 

“You conveniently forgot to tell me that you were coming, and Greg didn’t want a replay of the riot we almost had at the Superdome,” You said, your eyebrow quirking up. She winced at the memory, shaking her head and finally closing the distance between the two of you. 

You huffed her tightly to you, resting your cheek on the top of her head. The two of you swayed lightly as you hugged. It had been way too long since you had seen each other. 

“Missed you sunshine, you never answer your phone anymore” She hummed into your neck. 

“Missed you too,” You said softly, holding her tighter, and ignoring the second statement. The truth was that it was hard, that sometimes when you talked to Kelley all you could think about were your college days. It wasn’t just her that you pushed away, it was everyone. 

You had been friends with the woman even before the two of you went to college. She was your sounding board, your rock, more your sister than your friend at this point, and she hated you were locking yourself away again. 

“You, you’re-“ Emily’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. You squeezed Kelley one last time before returning your attention to the blond standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room. 

You had to admit that she was adorable with her pink cheeks and her hands pinned at her sides, unsure of what to do. 

“You should introduce me before she passes out,” You whispered loudly, nudged Kelley. The older defender smirked at her counterpart. She hadn’t meant for you and Emily to be more than friends, but if it turned out that way, she wouldn’t be upset. You were the sweetest person she knew, even if you had lost some of your sunshine over the years. You would treat the blond defender well and vice versa. You both deserved to be happy. 

“Right. Emily, this is Y/n. Y/n this is frat daddy junior Emily,” She nodded, not missing the eye contact between the two of you. You smiled wide, taking a step towards the frozen defender and grabbing her hand. 

“Well Emily, it’s a pleasure to meet you. A friend of Kelly’s is a friend of mine,” You said, bowing slightly and lifting the back of her hand to your lips. You could be suave when you wanted to be. 

“You said my name,” She said dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open slightly. 

“I think she’s made one too many tackles,” You laughed, glancing at Kelley over your shoulder. The woman facepalmed. The most interest you had shown in another person in nearly a year, and she’s too star-struck to realize it. 

“I swear she’s not usually like this,” Kelley mumbled, and you bit your lip in amusement. 

“Whatever you say Squirrel,” 

*****

Emily smiled down at her phone. The two of you had been texting nonstop since the concert, and she found herself slowly becoming addicted to your sweet and sometimes dirty sense of humor. 

It was interesting, how different you and your stage persona were. 

She learned how quiet and thoughtful you were. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hide the sadness that seemed to linger behind your million dollar smiles. A cautiousness behind every interaction. She wondered what had turned you from Kelley’s so-called sunshine into a cloudy day. 

She bit her lip watching the three little dots, indicating that you were typing, hoping that you would like the restaurant she had chosen. She giggled at your quippyness about how posh the place sounded. 

“Who ya texting that’s got you smiling like that?” Kelley asked, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Emily jumped, her phone nearly falling out of her hands as she rushed to get out of the message, before seeing it was only Kelley. 

“Oh, just Y/n,” Emily mumbled, her cheeks turning very pink.

Kelley smothered her smirk as she sat down beside the defender. “That’s cool, what’s she up to?”

“She’s in town, we’re going to get lunch or something,” Emily shrugged nonchalantly, and Kelley’s smirk got bigger. She wasn’t sure if you would go for it after the whole fiasco with Christen. 

“Really?” 

“You sound surprised?” Emily’s nervous eyes met hers. Kelley paused unsurely. How did you tell one friend that your teammate hurt the girl that she might be interested in so bad that she was terrified of relationships? 

“Y/n got hurt really bad by someone she loved. She hasn’t been the same since,” Kelley said softly. 

“You mean she hasn’t moved on yet?” Emily’s head tilted to the side, trying to understand. She had heard your stories through music, but she never thought about how that might translate into real life. 

Kelley shook her head, biting her lip. After Christen, you had rebuilt your walls and hidden your heart away in your castle so no one could hurt you. That was until you laid eyes on Emily. “She hasn’t let anyone get close to her again,” 

“Oh,” 

“Yeah, Just don’t hurt her, alright?” Kelley hummed, patting Emily’s knee. If you were going to open up the gates again, she didn’t want an army of white walkers marching in. They would pillage the little bit of you that was left. But the way pink traveled up Emily’s neck all the way to her ears told her that her best friend knew how delicate this situation was.

“We’re just friends Kell,” Emily muttered. 

“Whatever you say junior, and for the record, she didn’t text me about lunch,” Kelley laughed, patting her leg one more time as she stood. You two would figure it out on your own time. 

****

Emily smiled at Greg as she passed through the door to the little cafe you had chosen for lunch. He winked at her and pointed towards a table in the back, away from the windows twiddling your fingers nervously. 

All the security and fans staked out everywhere you went took some serious getting used to, as did your propensity for cheeseburgers over anything remotely fancy. Each time the two of you had done this over the past few months you had chosen somewhere with reasonable food and amazing milkshakes. 

The crooked grin you saved specifically for Emily broke across your face when you saw her, and you stood from your chair to greet her in a warm hug. You kissed her cheek and stepped back to pull her chair out for her, before handing her a beautiful (plastic) Rose. It had become a thing between the two of you. You didn’t like real flowers, they died, but fake ones stayed forever. 

“Hey superstar, I’m glad you could make it,” You grinned, pushing her chair in, and taking the seat across from her. 

“Well, you’re too cute to pass up,” She quipped back, enjoying the pink that dusted your cheeks. 

“I ordered you’re regular. Is that ok?” 

“You remembered my order?” Emily asked, her eyes widening in surprise. You felt the warmth in your cheeks travel up to your ears. The truth was that you had known her order after the 3rd time lunch the two of you had done, (and you ordered extra onion rings in case she didn’t want the French fries). 

“Well, we’ve done this a few times,” You shrugged, picking at the table. Her hand covered your own, and you smiled softly at the action, suddenly feeling shy. 

“You’re adorable,” She mumbled under her breath as the waitress set two milkshakes on the table in front of you. Noticing that yours wasn’t your normal chocolate peanut butter concoction and instead was the strawberry one she had tried last time. 

“Hmm, 20 questions?” You asked, sipping your shake (that you definitely didn’t get in case Emily changed her mind). 

It had become your go-to game with the woman, and both of you have always had a blast with the get to know you game. 

“Are you going to answer mine honestly?” She quirked an eyebrow up at you. The last time you had seen each other, you fibbed just slightly (not so slightly) about your new music. You were reluctant to give spoilers, and you told her your lead-off single was going to be a fun song playing off the saying sex on a beech (cake by the ocean). Instead, you had chosen something much sappier, about the start of a new relationship called Begin Again. 

Your fans had gone crazy, trying to put all the pieces together. It seemed they were divided on if you and Christen had gotten back together, or if you were finally moving on. You kept your lips sealed, and it had taken Emily more than an hour to finally weasel to real answer out of you. 

“Scouts honor,” You saluted, taking another drag of the strawberry milkshake. 

“You go first,” Emily grabbed your shake and took a sip, pushing her own chocolate one back towards you. You blinked, thinking for a second. You had never mastered suttelty in normal conversation, and you had no idea how to ask your question. 

“Are you dating anyone?” 

“Nope,” She smiled, popping the p. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Cool. I believe you’re now entitled to a question?”

Emily tapped her chin in thought, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are the rumors true? Kelley won’t tell me,” 

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific babe,” You smirked, smiling kindly at the waitress as she set down your double cheeseburgers. Your life was plagued with rumors. That you were dating this celebrity, that Preath had broken your heart. 

“You dated Christen and all your songs are about her?” Emily asked, grabbing an onion ring off your plate and dipping it in your milkshake. 

“I think dating would be a bit of a stretch,” you snorted, shaking your head. You weren’t sensitive about it anymore considering the media shoved it down their throat every chance they got. Emily waved her hand as if to say go on, you sighed. Despite the media pressure, you hadn’t really told anyone (besides Kelley) about it before.“We were best friends, who occasionally slept together. I caught feelings, Christen didn’t. She wanted Tobin and I was her plaything until Toby was ready.” You said the midfield turned forward’s name mockingly, looking wistfully over Emily’s shoulder. 

She watched you for a moment, taking in the faraway look in your eyes. Her heart ached at the deep line in your forehead that hadn’t been there mere moments before. 

“That was only the first part of my question,” she said softly. You blinked back to yourself. 

“I write about what I feel, so some of them are about her. But lately they’re all about an amazing girl who makes me feel things that scare the crap out of me, things I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again,” Your y/e/c eyes met her blue ones and you smiled softly.

Emily sat up in surprise, anxiety beginning to bubble up in her chest. She liked doing this with you, and she didn’t want it to stop. She opened her mouth to ask her, but your shaken voice cut her off. 

“Would you be my girlfriend?” 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Emily smiled, leaning across the table, cupping your cheek and placing a very sweet kiss on your lips. Your fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of her neck as you carefully pulled her closer. You pull away a second later, connecting your forehead and breathing heavy. You would take that as a resounding yes. 

“Does this mean I can hear the rest of the album early?” She asked, her breath fanning across your lips. 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” you said as you leaned in again. Gosh her lips were addictive. 

*****

Distance sucked, but over the past year, you and Emily had made it work. It was difficult with your music commitments and her soccer stuff, but as far as the two of you were concerned, it was worth it. 

Emily laid with her eyes closed, her phone resting on her chest and Kelley sitting beside her as the radio host introduced you to the audience. She was happy to relax and listen to you talk about the thing you were the most passionate about (besides her). 

It was nice to hear your voice, even if it sounded even more tired than it had when you talked the night before. 

She could tell how much the press tour for your new album was taking out of you, and it killed her just a little bit to not be able to comfort you. You hadn’t exchanged the words yet, but she was sure that you loved her as much as she loved you ou. 

“So I’ve got to ask, this album sounds so much different than both Heartbreak Hotel and Divinely Inspired to a Hellish Extent. There’s less pining and a lot more love,” The interviewer asked casually, but Emily could hear the smirk in his voice. The fans were going nuts now that your music had shifted from heartbreak to a blossoming love story. They all wanted to know who (Christen) had you writing sappy love songs. 

“Yeah, I’m in such a different place than when I wrote either of those two albums, and I think that’s reflected in the music,” You volleyed the question, twisting it around so you were answering it and not answering it all at the same time (a skill that Emily both admired and was terrified of). 

“So, it’d be safe to assume that you’re first two albums were about one relationship and this one is about another?” The interviewer pressed. And Emily groaned loudly. God, why couldn’t they just let it go? It had been nearly 3 years since you and Press were a thing. You had moved on and were finally happy, why wasn’t that enough? 

Kelley smirked at the outburst, side-eyeing the defender. She was thrilled that you had finally found someone who would treat you right. Both women were so caught up that they didn’t notice the couple entering the room and sitting on the bed opposite of them. 

“God, why can’t they just let it go?” Christen said loudly after yet another question from the interviewer. All eyes snapped to her, and Kelley raised her eyebrows at the outburst. “Don’t give me that look, I’m tired of them trying to get her to confirm that we dated,” She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning further into Tobin who began to rub her back. 

“I think dating is putting it loosely. If I was her I wouldn’t have just thrown you under the bus, I would have been the fucking driver,” Kelley rolled her eyes. 

“That was uncalled for,” Tobin grumbled. 

“You’re just upset because you didn’t know Forget You was about you,” Kelley snorted. Remembering how Tobin had walked around camp whistling the tune until she had broken the news. (Still, you found it hilarious considering the original lyrics). 

“You know what I meant,” Tobin grumbled. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s tired of it too,” Emily said softly, smiling almost sympathetically at the woman. You had gotten over most of your anger, and insisted that she shouldn’t be mean to Tobin. Love made you all do crazy things. 

“I write what I feel, and I think the only safe thing to assume from that is that I’m happy,” You added, bringing everyone’s attention back to the interview. Emily smiled softly at the phone. You were happy. You had gained your sunshine back, as Kelley put it, and she was glad that she was part of the reason for that. 

“And sickeningly in love?” The interviewer again tried to dig. 

“And in love,” Your smile was visible in your tone. Emily masked her sudden intake of breath. She knew, but it was the first time she was hearing it out loud. 

“I didn’t know she was in a new relationship” Christen’s eyes snapped to the phone in surprise. She knew you would move on eventually, but actually seeing evidence of it was causing all kinds of feelings to bubble in her chest. Feelings she didn’t have the right to have. She made her choice and she was happy too. You deserved that. 

“The new love songs are so sweet. It’s probably her best album yet,” Emily added with a shrug. It wasn’t just the music that was good, it was the knowledge that you were both falling together. That you would be there to catch each other was amazing. (And the memory of you strumming out a few of the love songs in your underwear in a concert just for her was a bonus too).it didn’t matter that the world was sure they were about Christen. Everyone in this room knew they weren’t. 

“I’ll have to listen to it, wonder who it's about,” Christen said thoughtfully. She shouldn’t deny that she missed you. Missed the friend part of your relationship. 

“Someone who knows just how lucky she is,” Kelley said, looking Christen in the eyes. It was no secret that she still harbored ill feelings over what happened between Chris and her best friend. Emily shrunk slightly. The two of you had agreed to keep the relationship on the down-low, and Preath were the last people she wanted to tell. 

Christen’s jaw dropped in surprise. You never talked about your relationships. Not even when you and her were involved. You weren’t good with emotions and it was a more ‘gentle-womanly thing to do’.

A barely audible “She told you?” left her lips. And Emily’s heart rate skyrocketed, thinking that this was about to become even more awkward than it already was. 

“My lips are sealed,” Kelley smirked, running her hand across her mouth in a zip it motion before throwing away the key. She wasn’t about the mess up the most stable relationship you had ever been in, and it was fun to watch Preath squirm. 

Emily took a deep breath. Some relaxing evening this had turned out to be. She went to swipe the radio app away on her phone when your name popped up next to a text. She couldn’t help the edges of her lips turning up. 

You really did have amazing timing. 

*****

Emily loved peaceful nights at camp. Early nights where the team bonding movie ended at a decent hour and they didn’t have early morning practice the next day. Sure her bed's cuddles weren’t as good as yours, but they still comfy. 

She had gotten to talk to you tonight, a long FaceTime. It bothered you how exhausted you looked, how your crooked smile hadn’t met your eyes. The chaos of touring was rough, made even more difficult by time zone differences. But still, you had made time to talk to her, to tell her how much you loved her. 

She idiot wondered what had pulled her out of her sleep, before the soft knock on the door sounded again. 

“Who the fuck is at our door at 3 Am?” Emily groaned loudly, rolling onto her back, and glancing over at her roommate in the other bed. She thought late-night pranks were banned at this camp, and she had been lucky to be roomed with her best friend. 

“I have no clue. Maybe if we ignore it, it’ll go away,” Lindsey mumbled, burying her face further into the pillow, moaning loudly when the knocking got even more insistent. 

“Fuck, I’m coming, cool your jets,” Emily huffed, throwing off the covers and marching towards the door. She flung it open, ready to yell at however the fuck had the nerve to bother them at this hour. But the words died on her lips the second she saw your very tired form leaning heavily against the doorframe, plastic Rose clutched firmly in your hand. 

“you’re here,” she said softly and you flew into her arms. You held her tightly, running your nose along the collum of her neck. She stumbled with the foot-wide, grabbing the doorframe to steady the two of you. 

“Sorry, I just. I missed you. I can’t sleep without you,” You mumbled into her skin, placing a kiss on the spot she loved so much. Emily wasn’t sure if you were apologizing for waking her up, or for nearly tackling her to the ground, but she didn’t care. It was so nice to have you in her arms after nearly 2 months of being apart. 

“Shhh, come in. It’s alright, I missed you too babe,” She hummed, stepping back and pulling you into the room, and closing the door. She grabbed the flower, smiling softly at it before placing it in her nightstand. She could tell how exhausted you were (you had probably flown in right after your show), and the last thing you needed was her teammates coming out to see what the commotion was. 

You mumbled something incoherent into her neck, following her as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Babe? Who is it, Son?” Lindsey Asked sitting up and taking in the sight of you basically sitting on Emily’s lap with your head buried in her neck. You looked up at the woman wide-eyed, and she gasped. “Holy shit, you’re Y/n L/n and Disani just called you babe,” 

“Surprise...” Emily smiled, and you huffed into her neck. She could feel your nose twitching, a telltale sign that you were probably about to fall asleep.

“How long?” Lindsey asked breathlessly, holding in the awe at how cute you two looked together. She never expected the big badass singer to turn into puddy in her best friend’s arms. 

“Like a year and a half?” Emily shrugged, shushing you again and running fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp. Your schedule was brutal and you had a propensity to avoid sleep when you were stressed. But on the bright side, she had learned that you always got cuddly when you were sleepy Like a puppy. 

“Damn, That’s why you’re so obsessed with all her music. It’s about you,” Lindsey laughed. Emily’s cheeks turned bright red as she cleared her throat. You weren’t really awake enough to register that your girlfriend was still your number one fan. 

“Let’s get Y/n into bed. You must be exhausted,” Emily said softly, maneuvering so you were both under the covers. You hummed, leaning up to peck your girlfriend’s lips before settling back into your favorite hiding spot. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief as your breathing evened out. You had never been a great sleeper, and she worried about how much you got while you were on tour. You were adorable, even more so when you were sleeping. Your face relaxed and you looked younger. Emily couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Christen ever let you go when you offer up the opportunity to see you so unguarded (a sight your fans rarely got a glimpse of). 

“You know the media is going to think you snuck into the hotel to see Christen right?” Emily murmured after a few minutes, not expecting you to reply. 

“Fuck the media. They need to chill with that Preath bullshit,” You huffed, burrowing deeper into the woman and placing a kiss on her collarbone, completely forgetting that you weren’t alone. You would call your publicist in the morning and have all the rumors squashed anyway (you didn’t want another disastrous interview like the one where Ellen had found pictures of you and Christen from college). 

“Wait you dated Christen?” Lindsey gasped, nearly falling out of her bed, and you groaned incompressible into your girlfriend. 

“A loose interpretation from what I’ve gathered,” Emily giggled, again comparing you to a puppy on her head. 

“It doesn’t matter, we all know who’s bed I was in tonight,” You huffed. 

“Damn right we do,” Emily tilted your chin up to kiss your lips. Emily wasn't the jealous type, but it was hard when the entire world was convinced you were with someone else. It also helped that you were always so sweet with her and made sure she knew how much you loved her. 

You pulled her closer, your fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of her neck as your tongue ran over her bottom lip. God, you had missed her. You moaned lightly when Emily’s tongue met your own. 

You were brought out of your moment by a very loud cough. You sat bolt upright, blinking owlishly around the woman in the opposite bed. 

“No sex while I’m here alright?” Lindsey smirked, amused by this you that few people ever got to see. This adorable side that seemed to be entirely taken with her best friend. No wonder you wrote her so many sappy love songs. 

“You’re no fun Linds,” Emily cackled, pulling you back down beside her. 

It would be a pain in the ass to get you out of the hotel without anyone seeing you, but the risk was totally worth getting to spend time with your girl, even if it was only for a few hours. 

****

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You had won 6 grammy’s the night before, and now you got to sit in the stands while your girl fought for the Shebelieves cup. You hadn’t been to a soccer game since Paris, and you had to admit it was slightly addictive watching your girl be a badass defender. It was one thing watching it on TV for the 3 years you had been dating, and an entirely different one to actually be here. God, she was gorgeous. 

You pulled your jacket tighter around you and shifted your hat down a little bit further. This was Emily’s moment, and you didn’t want to draw any attention away from her. 

*****

Tobin was freaking out, her normally chill persona nowhere to be found. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t know if it was fear or rage. Who the fuck gave you the right to show up at one of their games (sporting a jersey nonetheless) after you had released a song like To Make You Feel My Love. She thought that you had given up on chasing Christen years ago, but why were you here, seeming hiding in the stands. 

The media had been shoving the Preath narrative down your throat for months, maybe it had finally gotten to you. Yet, weren’t you in your own relationship? Maybe they had all read the signs wrong and you were still head over heels for Christen. 

If you were going to finally make a stand for her girl, why had you chosen this venue? She shook her head, heading into the tunnel for halftime, she needed to figure out how to stop your bid for Christen’s heart. 

“You didn’t tell me she was coming,” Tobin growled, passing Kelley as she made her way to her locker. 

Kelley shrugged, unable to suppress her smirk. “She’s not here for you anyway,” 

“She’s wearing a jersey Kelley,” She spat, glaring at the defender, who simply shrugged again. 

“Yeah, so? She wanted to do something nice, prove how much she loves her and all that,” 

Tobin opened and closed her mouth several times, her fist clenching as Kelley all but confirmed her biggest fear. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

*****

You found it incredibly amusing that your girlfriend couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off you during the second half. Hell, it was so obvious that at one point she had tripped over thin air cause she was looking at you instead of where she was going. 

And by the time the final whistle blew, you had garnered the attention of most of the national team, wondering why their frat daddy junior was so distracted. 

Lindsey got to you first, hopping up onto the railing to talk to you (as you had chosen a front row seat just behind the bench). 

“Hey rockstar, wanna come down and see your girl?” She smiled, leaning over the rail to tug you forward. You glanced behind her, wincing at the glare Tobin was sending you. You tugged your jacket closed again and shook your head. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Linessie,” 

“Oh come on, Kelley and I will protect you so you can serenade Sonnett,” She laughed goodnaturedly, remembering the many times you had convinced your respective best friends to help you surprise your girlfriend. 

“Haha, very funny,” you frowned, biting your lip. You really wanted to see Emily, but from the looks Tobin was sending your way, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea. 

Lindsey’s eyes softened at your hesitance. It was rare you let your softer, more shy side out in public. She knew you truly cared for Emily, and that you were worried your presence would ruin the night for her. 

You glanced at the railing, picking at the chipping paint. “She deserves to savor your win, not have me and my drama on the front page,” 

“Everything will be fine. Emily is super excited you’re here, and when they get a picture of your jersey, I think that all the preath shit will be in the past” Lindsey said softly, grabbing your hand and tugging you onto the field. 

You hid behind Lindsey as she navigates you through her teammates, intent on making it to the frat daddies who were across the field(who just happened to be standing next to Christen). That was until a very angry Tobin stepped directly into Lindsey’s path. 

“I can’t let you go over there Y/n. It’s over, just let it go,” Tobin said, crossing her arms like a petulant child. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes at the woman, attempting to take a step around her. “Chill Tobs, it’s not a big deal,” Tobin again stepped in your way. You frowned. This was why you didn’t want to come down in the field. 

“I think it’s a really big deal that she’s trying to steal my wife,” Tobin huffed, sniffing slightly. 

“What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. You weren’t here to see Christen at all. You were so busy staring quizzically at the midfielder that you didn’t notice your girlfriend sprinting in your direction until she launched herself into your arms. 

“I’m so glad you decided to come! I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” She mumbled into your neck, and you pulled her closer to you, tilting your head so you could place a kiss on her lips. This moment made everything worth it. 

“You said it was important so I’m here. I’d do anything for you superstar,” You said softly, kissing her cheeks and her forehead, drawing a giggle out of the girl. 

She shoved you lightly, catching you by your jacket collar to pull you back into a kiss. 

“I thought you were an Arsenal fan, not a Chelsea one?” She laughed against your lips, and you pouted. It had been the only jacket in Kelley’s apartment that fit you. You pulled away completely, shrugging out of the offending piece of clothing, revealing your jersey beneath it. 

“I just wanted to hide this until the right moment,” You smirked, ignoring the gasps of the women behind you. (Tobin had been watching dumbfounded from the moment you started hugging Emily, and the large Sonnett on your back had her even more confused. Why were you in Somnett’s jersey if you were trying to win Christen back?)

“God you look good with my name on your back,” Emily smirked, her hands on your hips, pulling you back in for yet another kiss. You smiled against her lips. This hadn’t been your plan, but everything seemed to be coming together. 

“What if it was our name?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at her and tilting your head to the side. She froze, blinking rapidly to process what you were saying. 

You barely registered the “Wait, what?” From behind you, and the slapping sound that followed. You could only assume it was Kelley as she added a “Shut up, she’s been planning this for months,” 

You had been planning this for months. Planning the perfect moment, and it couldn’t have been more perfect than this. You were both winners in your respective fields, and you wanted to be a winner in this too. You had never felt this way about another person. 

 Emily blinked at you again, asking a silent what, and you took that as your cue to continue. “Like, what if Sonnett was my name too, like minus a hyphen?” You shrugged, poking the 14 on her jersey and the matching one on yours before beginning to dig into your pocket. 

“Are you?” She stuttered as you dropped down on one knee, pulling out the ring you had stashed in your pocket. Yeah, this was much better than doing this in some back hallway of the stadium. 

You took a deep breath and looked up into Emily’s eyes, opening the ring box and asking the simple question “Marry me?” 

“Yes,” Emily is on her knees in an instant, cupping your face and kissing you again. She didn’t need a big long speech about how much you loved her (the two albums made your feelings crystal clear), and she loved you too. She couldn’t wait to be your wife. 

“Told you she wasn’t here for you,” Kelley laughed, nudging Tobin and Christen as they gaped at the two of you. How had they not known? 

Christen gulped down her feelings, leaning further into Tobin’s side. You weren’t hers anymore and she was somehow alright with that. 

[dewykth]

—lilies (m)

“… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

muses. bad boy! & tattooed!jungkook x female reader words. 1.3k+ contains. smut notices. explicit sex scene, mentions of drug use, jungkook’s just rly in love (he’s also a drug dealer oops) 

↳ listen to: florida kilos by ldr

"Is that new?"

The hand trailing down your thigh freezes. His eyes move to your face, where you’re staring at his chest, a curious expression adorning your flushed features. Jungkook loved seeing you like this. He thinks you look beautiful all the time, but especially like this, underneath him, rosy cheeks and wide eyes. You were such a sight. Jungkook could stare at you like this forever.

You hum, and his musings are cut short.

He looks down, completely forgetting the new piece he had inked on his body a couple nights ago. It was the reason he came over tonight, something he’d been thinking about doing for a while, but when you set your lips on his as soon as he walked through your apartment door, all thoughts of surprising you with the new tattoo faded away (as did everything when he was with you).

“Oh, uhm,” he clears his throat, “yeah… I, uh,” he struggles to find his words, especially when you’re staring at his chest like that.

He would never admit it, but he was scared you’d think it was stupid, or worse, too much. The extent of his feelings for you even terrified him.

Your lips quirk up into a small smile, and the small sliver of teeth showing glimmers under the soft glow of the moon. Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat.

“That’s my favorite type of flower, you know,”

He knows, of course he knows, but his words stay lodged in his throat. Instead he watches you lift your arm, tentatively tracing your fingers over the blooming lilies inked onto his chest, right above his heart. Your smile only grows when you feel the goosebumps rising on his skin.

“When did you get it?” your hand stays on his chest, but your eyes trail up to meet his own and the hand holding Jungkook above you almost slips at the sight of the pure adoration swimming in your eyes.

“I just did it a few days ago. That’s actually what I wanted to show you before we got… distracted,” his hand continues it’s path up your thigh, stopping right at your heat.

“That’s also my favorite color,” You let out a small sigh as his fingers ghost over your clit.

“I know.” he mumbles.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know who he tattooed those lilies for, who he took the time to design it for and even fill it with the inklings of their favorite color (probably Yoongi’s doing, Jungkook hated using colored ink). It’s stupid, you want to say, but in all honesty, the thought of him being etched with traces of you permanently made your tummy fill with butterflies. Almost as if he was whispering a promise.

Your panties soak, and Jungkook’s eyes flash.

“Do you like it, baby?”

"Yes." you respond, no hint of hesitation in your voice.

You bite your lip when his fingers move your lace panties aside and begin to rub your clit. How he could go from being so shy and sweet one second to being a tease the next, you still wondered.

Jungkook wasn’t like this. Normally when he would hook up with other women, he focused on his own pleasure. Of course, there was no doubt about how good he could make a woman feel during sex, but he always a taker.

It was different with you, though.

Maybe it was because he felt something more for you than he had ever felt for anyone else. With you, he felt something only those white lines on his coffee table had been able to construct. Euphoria. The only word he chose to use to describe those overwhelming senses. But no, he knew that wasn’t it. In the back of his mind, he knew exactly what words to pin those feelings under.

Those three words were always on the tip of his tongue when he was with you, but it was the small moments that almost had the words tumbling out of his mouth. When you would reach for his hand while walking, when you would make his favorite meal the mornings after the nights full of passion and ecstasy, when you let him mark you with hues of pink and purple. His head was always filled with you, you, you, even when you were in front of him.

He wanted to say it now, when you were moaning and begging so beautifully for him.

But, as always, the fear of the weight of those words seeped through him, keeping him quiet. So, he pushed those thoughts out of his head as he focused on giving you pleasure.

Give, give, give. That was all he wanted to do.

“Nngh… Jungkook… please!”

His lips form a smirk as he moves his fingers down to your entrance, slowly pushing one finger in. You throw your head back onto the arm rest of the couch, gasping in pleasure. Jungkook attaches his mouth to your nipple, swirling his tongue and sucking in the way that made your back arch prettily.

“More, please baby,” you moan out, “I need more!”

How could he ever deny you?

“So needy,” he whispers, but he complies, pushing another finger inside of you as he begins to fuck into your throbbing pussy.

Your hand finds its way to his hair tugging harshly when he curls his fingers. He moans around your nipples, the pain only making him want to give you more, more, more.

He slips a third finger inside you, and you cry his name out. Jungkook pulls back from your tits, gazing at you as his tattooed fingers fuck into you. Your eyes are shut, face contorted in pure bliss as sounds of elation continue to spill out of your red, bitten lips.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muses, lost in his thoughts again.

He can feel your legs start to shake, so he quickly crawls down, planting his mouth directly onto your clit and sucking.

“Fuck! Jungkook… I- I’m cl-… I’m c-close!”

He hums in acknowledgement, picking up his pace. His fingers fuck you roughly and swiftly as his mouth continues to suck on your clitoris, lapping up as much of your juice as he can. God, he adored this. He adored you, every piece of you.

Your legs tense, body seizes and—

“Fuck! I’m coming! Jungkook!”

His eyes move to your face, absorbing the fucked-out expression on your face as you ride your high. He continues to swallow your juices, only stopping when you tap his hand, the stimulation becoming too much.

“You look so pretty when you cum for me.”

The compliment makes a rose-colored tint appear along your cheeks. You move to cover your bashful smile with your hand, quickly becoming shy. How were so goddamn cute and sexy?

Something hard pokes at your thigh, and when you look down, it’s hard not to notice Jungkook’s boner. You move your hand to palm him through his jeans, but Jungkook grabs your hand, shaking his head with a smile as he lays beside you.

“Are you sure? I could suck you off.” you offer, completely ready to let him fuck your mouth

He only smiles, “As tempting as that is, I just wanted to please you tonight.”

Your heart stutters, and feelings of fondness bubble up in your chest. You cuddle into his side, trying your hardest to not fall off the small couch holding the two of you. His arm wraps around you and you sigh contentedly, letting his warmth radiate into you.

The thumping of his heart lulls you to sleep, and soon your soft snores fill the quiet living room.

It’s only when he’s sure that you’re deep in another world that he whispers the words that he’s so afraid of. He lets them hang in the midnight air, until fatigue succumbs his body and his dreams take him too.

© dewykth. all rights reserved. no reposting, translation, or modification of any kind is allowed.

[mrsalwayswrite]

This Night (40s!Bucky Barnes x Hispanic!OFC)

Summary: When she saved a scrawny blond in a back alley, she would never have anticipated the ripple effects it would have. Nor how meeting someone with a pair of baby blue eyes and cocky smirk would draw her in, encouraging her that for one night, to taste revelry like she never had before.

This is my submission for @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ Marvel Diversity Challenge! My prompt was “a little danger never hurt”. 

I am going to admit, I’m super nervous to post this. I’ve never written a person of color before and would be horrified to accidently offend someone. That being said, I also had so much fun writing this piece. I adore 40s Bucky and Steve, so I was excited to finally have the inspiration to write them. 

Few notes:

-All translations are via google and what I can remember from university (if any of my Spanish is wrong, please please please someone tell me and i’ll correct it!)

-I threw in some 40s slang for fun, so that will be in italics.

-In the little research I did (again, someone please correct me if I am wrong), in the 40s there were not many Hispanic or Latino people living in NYC yet. So for my OFC and her family, they would very much stand out. 

Warnings: a few swear words, some angst, sexual tension, topic of racial discrimination and inequality 

Words: 8k (the story kept growing, i’m so sorry)

<gif is from Pinterest>

She clutched the parcel to her chest, trying to avoid the muddy puddles on the sidewalk. Mr. Hendricks would be furious with her if she got any mud on the packaging of the parcel. He always said it reflected his reputation.  

 Weaving through those walking down the busy Brooklyn sidewalk, she could feel the few glares and inaudible comments following in her wake. She tried to ignore it, knowing was not the first nor last time others judged her for her different skin tone. Though she doubted she would ever get used to it. One of her older brothers would try and cheer her up saying the white folks were jealous since they burned when in the sun too long while Spaniards became more beautiful. Without fail, she would smack him but end up laughing along. 

 Peeking at the address scrawled in precise handwriting, she surveyed the street names around. A sinking feeling in her gut confirmed her fear- she had somehow gotten lost. 

“Mierda.” She hissed, turning around in a circle. Not just to try and relocate her whereabouts but on the off chance her mother happened to be behind her to whack her over the head for swearing. 

 Not wanting to be run over by a fellow pedestrian, she stepped off the sidewalk into an alley nearby while she tried to get her bearings. She brushed down the front of her workwear, dark blue, princess style dress with its Peter Pan collar, double pockets and pleated skirt. A glance at her tights showed a couple spots of mud she somehow managed to still get on her even though her kitten heels were still mostly clean. A miracle really. 

 It was only mid-afternoon but Mr. Hendricks hated when she returned late from delivering parcels. He was the best tailor in Brooklyn and practically thrived off that title. He employed her to help keep things organized, the shop looking nice and delivering parcels to their patrons. It was mindless work but that did not bother her. It was a job...and she was lucky to have one. Being from one of the few Hispanic families in the area was not a perk when trying to find work. She knew the only reason she even got this job was she willingly took half the pay he would have given to anyone else, she could sew well, and she was pretty. 

 A crash at the end of the alley drew her attention behind her. There was some hushed talking followed by another sound of something hitting the ground. Hard. 

 Logically, she knew she should walk away. She was already lost. Her mother frequently reminded her to not involve herself in other people's business, it would only get her in trouble. The problem was her curiosity was a near palpable thing, driving her forward, along with her independent streak the size of the Upper Bay. So when she heard what sounded like a smack and another crash, her feet started moving without a second thought. 

 She darted around a half brick wall to find herself at an "L" intersection. And at the end of both alleys, stood a tall man with a face like a bulldog and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, fists at his side. Below him lay a much smaller, blond man who was sprawled out on the dirty ground. The smaller man groaned, rubbing a hand on his jaw. He rolled onto his side, then slowly and painfully rose back onto his feet, his own fists in front of him in a poor imitation of a boxer. 

 "You think you somethin' special, huh?" The larger man jeered, a nasty smirk on his face. He leaned on his back foot, preparing to throw another punch. 

 The smaller man raised his fists but made no other move, prepared to take the hit and most likely go back down. 

 So, she decided to do something stupid. 

 "BILL!!" She cried out, her voice echoing off the brick walls of the alleys. 

 Both men froze, turning to look at her. 

 Tucking the parcel under her arm, she jogged over to the smaller man, uncaring now of the muddy puddles. "There you are, Bill. I've been so worried. You promised to show me where Mrs. Wilcox lives. I tried to find her myself but I got so lost." Ignoring the quizzical look from the blond man, she stood between the two men, meeting the eyes of the larger one. She twirled a strand of her long, black hair around her finger, nerves getting to her but she pressed on. "I'm so sorry for whatever trouble he has caused you. He won't bother you again. We have to go now; our boss will dock our wages if we aren't back soon."

 The man trailed his eyes over her as if looking for a lie tattooed on her skin or dress. Finding nothing of interest, he stared hard at his victim for a long moment. She found herself holding her breath, silently praying her ruse worked. 

 Finally, he rolled his shoulders and unclenched his fists, his thick jowls still tense. "Keep ‘im away from me or next time his ass will end up in the hospital."

 Slowly, she released her breath as she watched the bulldog of a man turn on his heel and stomp away, back down the alley and onto the main sidewalk. 

 "Are you hurt?" She asked, looking over the smaller man. As he dusted off his brown trousers and tan jacket, she was surprised to realize he stood about her height, and probably about her age, in the young twenties. If her guessing was any good. 

 He rubbed his jaw again and winced where an impressive bruise was already growing. "I've had worse." 

 She could not help but smile at his nonchalance. His bright blue eyes met her own honey brown. A timid smile echoed hers, his face so open and expressive. Something about the man she found endearing already. Maybe defending him was not such a stupid action.  

 "All that stuff you said, about lookin' for me and gettin' lost…"

 She huffed a laugh. "I am actually lost. I'm trying to find this address here." She showed him the scrap of paper with the address scribbled on it.

 It took only a glance before he handed the paper back with a smile. "You're not too far. Only three streets away….I... I can take you there if you like."

 "Oh, I'd hate to impose on you."

 "No, it's really fine. Seems you saved me from...well…" He shrugged, sticking his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. 

 "And... you...don't mind, you know, being seen with me?"

 "No, why?" Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed slightly, he stared at her like that was the strangest question. 

 It was in that moment she knew, whoever this scrawny man was- he was a good man. The difference in their ethnicity made no difference to him. He was a rarity in her experience with most New Yorkers. 

 Even though it was 1940 and this was supposed to be a land of equal opportunity. 

 It was not. 

 With a shrug and momentarily, awkward silence as they both thought about their own answers to his question, they fell into step with one another as they headed back out of the alley.

 "So, what's your name? Or is it actually Bill?" She spoke up once they hit the sidewalk. 

 "Do I look like a Bill?"

 She squinted her eyes then shook her head giggling. "No, you don't."

 "It's Steve…. Steve Rogers."

 "It's nice to meet you, Steve."

 He directed them down another street. Their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked, due more to their need to maneuver around puddles and other pedestrians than any sense of intimacy. "You gonna tell me your name or do I have to make one up for you?"

 "Oh! Sorry. It's Elana Morales-Díaz. So, what caused the fight?"

 The tips of his ears and cheeks turned pink as he ducked his head. "He, um, we...we had a disagreement."

 "Obviously. I would hate to know you're friends and beat each other up for fun."

 "My best friend is a boxer. He's tryin’ to teach me some moves…. does that count as beating each other up?"

 She pretended to think about it. "I may let that one slide but it sounds like you might need some new friends."

 "Yeah," he chuckled and peeked over at her. "Know of any openings?"

 "I just might."

 They stood at an intersection waiting to cross the street when they heard a shout from further down the road. Neither paid much attention initially until the shout repeated itself. 

 "STEVE!"

 The blond looked down the road, a smile on his lips. He waved and tugged on Elana to move away from the curb. She followed along, surprised since he told her they needed to cross. 

 A man glided through the pedestrians easily, a few lingering looks thrown his way by some of the women. When he noticed her standing next to Steve, his eyes widened for a brief moment before a lazy smirk appeared on his face and his strut became more pronounced. With boxing gloves dangling over his shoulder, his white shirt and black trousers, he looked like he just walked out of a gym. Especially with the way his dark brown hair ruffled in the breeze, a few strands sticking up like he had run his hands through it a few times. 

 "I leave you for one afternoon and I come back to find you with the prettiest gal in all of New York." 

 Steve rolled his eyes. "You're always at the gym now."

 The man put Steve in a teasing headlock. Only after a flirtatious wink at her, he released the smaller man. "So, you gonna introduce me to this wolfess, Steve?"

 "Ah, right. Elana, this is my best friend, Bucky Barnes. Buck, this is Elana."

 "Nice to meet you." She said, a small smile at their interactions. It reminded her of her brothers.

 The man -Bucky- reached over and took her hand but instead of shaking it, pressed a kiss to her knuckles, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "Pleasure is mine."

 Oh, he was a charmer. The kind her mother warned her about. Then again, her father had the same devilish charisma and Elana liked to remind her mother of that. To which her mother would laugh and say that's why she warned her daughter of those men, she knew from experience. With just a wink and kiss, she would fall madly in love, leave her home and give him five babies before she even knew it. It was always after this statement often said loudly and with feigned annoyance that Elana's father would wrap his arms around his wife, lovingly kiss her temple and remind her how long he had to chase her before she even agreed to go on a date with him. 

 "So how do you guys know each other?" Bucky asked, those blue eyes bouncing between the two of them. 

 Steve coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was then Bucky finally seemed to notice the slowly darkening bruise on Steve's jaw. 

 "Steve!" He grabbed his friend's face and glanced over him, concern etched in his movements and expression. "What happened this time, punk?"

 "Nothin'...just a disagreement. I had 'im on the ropes."

 He dropped his hand, running it through his brunet hair. "You gotta stop pickin’ fights, one of these days…" The implications hung heavily in the air. 

 "Ah, Steve…" When he looked over at her, she nodded toward the parcel still in her arms.

 "Oh right! Sorry. Buck, I gotta take her to drop somethin' off."

 Bucky shrugged. "Lead the way, punk."

 "Jerk."

 The three of them quickly crossed the street. Steve, and soon Bucky when he understood what was going on, pointed out markers for her in case she got lost again. In a short time, they arrived at the house, one of the nicer ones in Brooklyn. The boys waited on the sidewalk as Elana walked up to the front door and handed the parcel over with the man's tailored suit. 

 "Where you off to now, doll?" Bucky asked when she approached them. 

 "Oh, I need to get back to the shop. Mr. Hendricks will most likely be upset with how late I am anyway."

 "The tailorin’ shop near Prospect Park?"

 "Yeah." She played with a strand of her hair, trying to hide her nerves.

 "What a coincidence. We were headed that way ourselves, right, Steve?"

 "What?" Steve looked at Bucky, head tilted in confusion. Bucky cuffed him in the back of the head. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. Um, gonna take a nice walk in the park."

 Elana could not help but giggle at the two. With Bucky looking skyward like he was silently praying for patience to deal with his best friend; meanwhile Steve rubbed the back of his head and glared at his best friend. Although she just met them and hardly knew them, she found herself enjoying their presence. Friends were not something she had in great supply...or any supply really. 

 Plus, if she was being honest with herself, she found her gaze drifting to the tall, charming brunet more times than she cared to admit. The butterflies in her stomach did not help the situation. She knew it was foolish. He was attractive and knew it. But when he turned those baby blues on her and winked, she could not help but be drawn to him, like a moth to the flame. 

 "How come we ain't seen you round before? I know I'd remember a dame as beautiful as you round Brooklyn." Bucky said on her left side while Steve walked on her right. Neither one crowded her space. Sometimes one would touch a hand to her back to direct her steps or hold her elbow when she jumped a puddle. It was sweet instead of condescending. 

 She shrugged. "I recently got the job at the tailor shop and I live in Queens."

 They both winced making her laugh. She would never understand this animosity the boroughs had with each other. 

 "Well that explains a lot." Steve muttered. 

 "Hey!" She nudged the blond with her shoulder as she muttered. "Me gusta Queens. Ustedes dos están celosos."

 "What language is that?" Steve asked, curiosity evident. 

 "Spanish."

 "Is that why you have an accent?"

 She nodded, unable to meet their gazes as she answered. "My family moved here from Spain when I was six." Although she had grown up here in New York City, gone to school just like the other kids, she still maintained a slight accent to her words, different from the stereotypical New Yorker's accent. 

 "Say somethin’ else." Bucky smiled down at her. 

 She laughed. "Like what?"

 "I don't know. Anythin’."

 "El cielo es azul. Me duelen los pies con estos tacones. Me he reído más con ustedes dos que en semanas".

 Bucky had almost a dazed look on his face. "That's beautiful."

 "You have no idea what I said."

 "Doesn't matter." The brunet stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Steve can talk in Irish." 

 "Buck…"

 "What?" 

 "I mean, a little." He rubbed the back of his neck. "My ma came from Ireland." 

 Bucky snorted. "You wrote a poem for a girl in the second grade in Irish and read it to her on the playground. I'd say that's more than a little."

 Steve's face was red and jaw dropped as he stared at his friend. "How...how...how do you know that?" He sputtered. "We weren't even friends yet."

 Bucky winked at Elana as he answered. "Gotta be friends with the right people."

 The three of them walked back, talking and laughing. Well it was mostly the boys talking and teasing one another but she enjoyed just listening to their banter. Occasionally they would direct a question to her or she would throw out a remark that had them laughing. 

 She guided them to the back alley of the street front shops. Mr. Hendricks disliked her walking through the front unless she had her work apron on and clean shoes. 

 "Well thank you for helping me and walking me back."

 "It's not a big deal." Steve said. 

 "We'll see you round, yeah? I'd hate to just meet a gorgeous dame like you then never see her again." Bucky threw a wink at her, adjusting the boxing gloves still over his shoulder. 

 She opened her mouth to tease them then stopped. She truly hoped this was not the last time she saw these two. In a spur of the moment decision, she stepped closer to say goodbye. She pressed her cheeks to Steve's first, giving the traditional cheek kiss. She did the same to Bucky, though she had to rise on her toes to reach his face, and she suspected he bent over slightly. 

 "Hasta luego, mis amigos."

 "What was that, doll?"

 She looked from Bucky's smirk to Steve's red face and back. "A traditional goodbye."

 "Mmm…I could get used to that." The boxer teased, nudging his friend who refused to meet her eyes now. 

 She smiled and started to open the back door when Bucky's hand grabbed her forearm, stalling her movements. 

 "Hey, wait." Those baby blue eyes met her honey brown ones. "It's Friday night.  We usually go to the Stork Club for drinks and dancin’. Come with us."

 "Oh, I don't know…"

 "Come on. It'll be great. If it helps, we'll pick you up from your house."

 She could not help the laugh that slipped out at the thought.  "You'd come to Queens... to get me?"

 "It might break my heart to leave my beloved Brooklyn but I'd do it for you, doll."

 "Honestly it'd be dangerous for you to come to my house." 

 "A little danger never hurt." He brushed some of her hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. 

 He was trouble, complete trouble for her...and she knew it. But the longer he stared at her with those pleading eyes and hand now at the nape of her neck, she could feel her resolve crumbling. "I have three brothers and a protective father."

 "They can't be that bad… Come on, please? Steve, help me out!"

 Steve just laughed, raising his hands in surrender. 

 She bit the inside of her cheek thinking about it. Her brother Mateo owed her for when she covered for him when he almost got caught smoking cigarettes behind the apartment building. Tonight, her parents were supposed to visit her eldest brother and his new wife in the Bronx. 

 "Ok…" She whispered. 

 "Yeah?" A beaming grin spread over his face.

 "Ok...I'll meet you there though."

 "Yes!" Bucky bent over and kissed her cheek loudly. "You won't regret it! Nine o'clock!"

 "Nueve. Estaré allí."

 "I still don't know what you said, doll, but I love it."

 She laughed, pushing him away from her. "Go! Before I'm even more late."

 Before they were three steps away, she ducked inside the back of the shop. Hopefully she was able to slip in unnoticed. The shop should be closing soon so Mr. Hendricks would be in his little office room. 

 She leaned against the back door, hands pressed against her cheeks to will away the warmth in them. Thankfully with her brown skin, the blush would be harder to notice. As she stood there, the realization of what she just agreed to finally hit her. An icy fist landed in her gut, drowning the blush away. She had never been to a club before. She had no idea what to wear...or how to act. How was she even going to get there? 

 Underneath the fear though was a determination to go. Why couldn't she have fun for one night, like other young women she regularly saw and envied. Both of those Brooklyn boys seemed nice. Thinking about them brought the flush back to her skin, especially when she thought of the kiss on the cheek from Bucky. He was trouble and fun and charming and devilish and… and she wanted to spend more time with him. And Steve, the sweet, kind, funny guy that he was. She liked them both. But when thinking about those baby blue eyes, insufferable smirk and broad shoulders...her heartbeat sped up and butterflies erupted in her belly. 

 "Oh Dios, ¿qué voy a hacer?" She whispered to herself. 

 *****

 Just after nine o'clock, Elana climbed out of the taxi. She stared up at the sign that brightly screamed ‘Stork Club’. So many people milled about, either walking into the club or chatting, waiting for others in their group. A couple people already looked like they had been hitting the bottles for some time, if the rambunctious yelling and obnoxious laughter said anything. The atmosphere was loud and vibrant with an air of debauchery...and she had not even stepped foot in the door. 

 "Oh Dios, ¿por qué estoy aquí? Estúpido. Tan estúpido. Debería irme. Ni siquiera se darán cuenta." She murmured to herself, her hands wringing the strap on her clutch. Actually, it was not even hers. She "borrowed" it from her mother's closet and prayed that she could return it before her mother noticed.

 "Elana!" 

 At the call of her name, she turned around to see Bucky and Steve crossing the street, dodging a car that decided they were taking too long. 

 "You made it!" Bucky exclaimed, bubbling with excitement. He scanned her over, giving a low whistle. "Damn, doll, you look beautiful."

 "Gracias." She smoothed down her floral-patterned tea dress that reached mid-calf, her kitten heels still on from earlier. Her raven hair hung loosely down her back, unstyled in the typical curls that most women wore. There had been no time to try one of those hair styles and not bring attention to herself before she snuck out. Just to make her even more self-conscious, the cherry red lipstick she wore felt heavy on her lips. Something she only wore on rare occasions. "You fellas clean up nicely."

 Checking over them, they each wore nice suits. Though Steve's looked a size or two too large and the prominent bruise on his cheek ruined the look a bit. Bucky was practically sinful in his suit, showing off his broad shoulders and strong legs, his hair slicked back. Improper thoughts flooded her mind and a heat warmed her cheeks. She had a feeling she would need to go to confession tomorrow. That was tomorrow’s worry though, tonight was about fun.

 "Ready to have the time of your life?" Bucky asked, excitement practically bubbled under his skin. 

 "That's a high standard."

 "Guess I better not disappoint. C'mon!" He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the crowded, open door. In her sudden fear, she reached back and snagged Steve's hand, dragging him along. She would never admit it but having both of them on either side of her made her feel better. 

 There were several different calls for Bucky, vying for his attention. He just waved or yelled something back but kept her hand in his, pulling them through. She noticed more than one disappointed female face when Bucky passed them. It churned something in her stomach which she tried to ignore. 

 When they finally entered the dance hall, she froze. It was nothing like she imagined and so much better. At the far end was a stage with a large band playing an upbeat song that made her bounce on her toes without realizing it. A large bar area was set up, packed with people already looking for something to wet their throats. Booths and tables lined the walls. Already the hardwood, dance floor looked packed with couples jiving. Mirrors and photographs hung on the walls making the place feel bigger even when it was so crowded. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and a youthful zeal she had never experienced. 

 It was intoxicating and nerve-wracking. She could not wait to join in. 

 The next thing she noticed when she glanced at all the people...she was the only non-white person there. 

 "Let's get a table." Bucky tugged them along towards an open booth on the right side of the dance floor. 

 She slid in on one side while Steve scooted in on the other. Bucky stood at the end, grinning ear to ear as he seemed to quickly survey the place. 

 "Right." He tossed his suit jacket on the seat next to her then clapped his hands, the sound muffled by the volume from the band nearby. "What kinda drink would you like?"

 "Ah, vino?"

 He nodded and waltzed towards the bar, throwing an arm around the shoulder of one of the men standing there waiting. 

 She turned back to the blond. "You're not drinking?"

 "Nah, too many health issues to make it worth it." 

 She hummed and took note of Steve's fidgeting. "Is this your first time too?"

 He chuckled. "No. I just don't...well, this isn't where I'd prefer to be on a Friday night...but don't tell Bucky... though he probably knows."

 "What would you rather be doing?"

 "Drawin’ or paintin’, maybe playin’ cards but I'm terrible at them."

 "You're an artist?" The realization warmed her heart. This scrawny man with a heart too big for his body and kindness an invisible cloak around him. It made sense somehow. He could look past the ugly and see beauty and somehow capture it. 

 "I don't know if I'd say that...I just enjoy it. It's usually what I end up doin’ when I come here. Doodlin’ on a napkin while Buck dances with every girl he can."

 Her stomach dropped while hearing that, which was stupid. So stupid. She swallowed thickly, hoping Steve did not notice, before she spoke again to distract herself. "Well if you doodle something tonight, can I see it after?"

 "If you like."

 Bucky appeared a minute later with a foamy glass of beer and a glass of red wine. Carefully, he placed them both on the table. "Ready to cut a rug?" He asked, looking at her expectedly. 

 "Um, I don't...I've never danced like this before." She hesitantly admitted. Steve gave her a sympathetic smile like he understood. 

 "Don't matter. I bet you're a swell dancer." He held out his hand for her. When she did not immediately accept his hand, he wiggled his fingers. "C'mon, ain't that hard. I'll teach you."

 With a sigh, she took his hand, his smile beaming as he tugged her out of the booth. She could not help but smile back at his sheer enthusiasm. It was contagious. 

 He led her off to the side of the dance floor. Putting one hand on her lower back and taking the other in his hand, he began demonstrating the steps. Her eyes stayed glued to his feet while he moved, willing her brain to understand and not make a fool of her. 

 "You got this, doll. Told you, you're a natural. Just follow my movement, let me lead."

 So she did and before she knew it, they were flying around the dance floor. 

 Bucky was an amazing dancer and it showed in how he effortlessly led her. A couple times she stumbled or stepped on his toes but he would just grin and encourage her to keep going. The faces of those around them blurred. The music seemed to sink into her blood and with every beat of the drum or clap of the hands from the band, her heartbeat echoed it. It was intoxicating and she had not even had a sip of alcohol. Now she understood why people flocked to these dance halls. There was something freeing in them, losing yourself to the music and movements. For a short time, you could ignore the outside world and all its trials. Here, you could be free. 

 Eventually she begged a break, practically panting from the several songs they danced through. The brightness in her eyes and smile though showed how much fun she was having. Still holding hands, they weaved through the crowd back to their booth where Steve sat with a napkin in front of him, pencil in hand and eyes focused downward. She slid into the booth first, Bucky right behind her. 

 "Have fun?" Steve asked, eyes bouncing between the two before him. 

 "I can't breathe." She giggled out, hand pressed to her chest. Her lungs struggled to fill up properly but instead of installing fear into her, it only made her laugh. 

 Bucky took a long sip of his beer and slung his arm behind Elana, on the back of the booth. "Told you, you'd have fun. You're a great dancer."

 "Only cause I had a great teacher." Taking a sip of her wine, she focused on the quiet artist.  "Did you draw something, Steve?"  

 "Yeah, just a little sketch."

 "Can I see it?"

 He slid the napkin over to her, nerves obvious. Giving him a small, reassuring smile, she flipped the napkin over and felt her heart stop and jaw drop. The pencil sketch was of Bucky and her dancing. His mouth was next to her ear, whispering instructions or flirtatious comments, his hand on her lower back. Her gaze was on his chest but the brilliant smile on her lips gave her away. The sketch was so realistic, it was astounding. It completely captured Bucky's confidence and her nervousness but somehow the opposite emotions only added to the image, bringing a sense of balance and trust between the two dancing partners. 

 "Steve, esto es…. hermoso…. increíble." She breathed out, never taking her eyes off the napkin. When she finally looked up to see him blushing and fiddling with the pencil, she smiled. 

 Bucky had been leaning against her so he could see the sketch also. "That might be your best one yet, pal."

 "Thanks, guys. S'nothing."

 "May I keep it?" She softly asked, eyes tracing the delicate lines and shading.

 The embarrassed blond flapped a hand at her. "Course. It was for you if you wanted it anyway."

 Silently, she reached across and squeezed Steve's hand, unable to convey all the emotions she was feeling. "There's one thing you got wrong."

 "What's that?"

 "I'm not that pretty."

 Both Steve and Bucky chuckled.  

 "Elana," Bucky started, gazing down at her. "He drew you like-"

 "Bucky!" A silky voice interrupted. A young woman stood at the end of their booth. Her blonde hair in perfect curls, bright red lipstick matched the equally bright red dress she wore. Her eyes zeroed in on the handsome brunet at the table, ignoring the other two patrons like they were just wallpaper. "Wanna dance?" 

 The sun-kissed woman could feel Bucky's hesitation. Nudging him gently in the ribs, she nodded towards the interloper. "Go. Have fun. I still need to catch my breath."

 With a nod, he slipped out of the booth and followed the beautiful woman onto the dance floor. The two easily fell into step like they had done this a million times, each movement flawless and smiles on both of their faces. 

 She turned back to Steve, ignoring the churning in her gut. "What's your favorite thing to draw?"

 They talked for a few minutes about art classes he had taken and the few commissioned pieces he had done for local businesses. The passion he spoke with about art, hands flapping and eyes alight, it was impossible not to join in his enthusiasm. 

 The presence of someone standing at the end of the table drew their attention away from the quick sketch of a monkey Steve had drawn on another napkin. This young woman had a haughty expression on her otherwise pretty face, glaring down her nose at Elana. 

 "You shouldn't be here." She stated, venom lacing every word. Hands on her curvy hips, the gold stitching in her emerald dress catching the light from above. 

 "Ruby, we-"

 "No one is talkin’ to you, Steve." She barked then continued glaring at Elana. "I bet you're a real floozy, comin’ in here lookin’ like that. Well news flash, no one wants you or your kind here."

 Tears stung in Elana’s eyes, threatening to fall. She knew this would happen. It always happened. There was always someone to remind her she was not one of them, even if her own eyes could see it. She had hoped tonight would be different. That for once, she could fit in. 

 "I want her here. She's my date."

 The lady -Ruby- spun on her heel so quick, her dress flared out. "Bucky," she crooned, her voice sugary-sweet, so different than a moment ago. "You're lookin' like a real Fred Astaire out there tonight. Let's go-"

 Bucky did not even look her way as he slid back onto the bench, eyes focused on Elana. "You alright there, doll?"

 She nodded numbly, staring at the table. Twirling a strand of hair absent-mindedly around her finger, she tried to force the tears from falling. It was not even the worst insult she had heard hurled at her, but it still cut her to the quick. Every time. 

 "Why don't we head out, yeah? Steve there looks like he's gettin' a little warm and the music ain't so good tonight." Bucky said gently. 

 She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak. 

 "Bucky, stay…" Ruby tried one last time but he leveled a glare at her that made her take a step back. 

 "Take a powder, Ruby, I ain't interested."

 Bucky wrapped his hand around Elana's, entwining their fingers as he slid out of the booth with her right behind him. Without even a backwards glance, he led the three of them out of the dance hall. Elana kept her head down the whole time, unable to meet anyone's eyes for fear of what she would see. 

 The night air was blissfully cool after the heat of the dance hall. It kissed her skin as if trying to help calm her down. At this point, the street was not as busy, everyone mostly inside now. Only a few pedestrians and cars interrupted the quiet scene. 

 "Elana, I'm so sorry."

 "Debería irme. No debería haber venido. Soy tan estúpida." She muttered to herself, not even hearing Bucky's statement. It was a foolish idea to come out. For so long she had tried to fit in, especially as a child. Her mother always told her to be herself and embrace her difference. That was easier said than done. Tonight felt like a taste of it when she was on the dance floor. What things could have been like if everyone was accepted. If where she was from did not matter. She had been so happy dancing with Bucky, this handsome devil who treated her like she was special, holding her hand in front of everyone. Sure, Steve said he danced with a lot of girls but for tonight, she was someone while on his arm. She was someone special. 

 And oh, did she love the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers. Him holding her close as they danced, his warm breath hitting her neck just right. He was trouble, through and through. Her mother would call him a Casanova and tell her to run the other way. Yet she did not want to. He drew something out of her. An almost recklessness. A desire for more. More in life. To experience life with a passion. Both this new feeling and Bucky’s presence were addicting...and she found herself unable to turn away. At least not for tonight. She wanted to revel in it tonight. 

 It was not until a hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to meet a pair of worried baby blue eyes that she was jolted from her internal spiral. 

 "Hey, hey. I have no idea what you're sayin' but it don't sound good. Why don't we walk for a bit, mmm? The night's still young."

 Wordlessly, she followed. It was then she noticed Bucky was still holding her hand, palms flat against one another's. That realization drew a small smile on her lips. On her other side walked Steve, hands in his pockets but a genuine smile on his face when he caught her eye. Even after all this, these two Brooklyn boys wanted to be with her. With that in mind, she shoved her despair and pain away. Let tomorrow bring what worries that came with it. Tonight she wanted to be reckless without fear of the consequences. Tonight was supposed to be fun.  

 "Can't believe Ruby would say that. Always thought she was a nice dame." The brunet mused, slipping his suit jacket back on before taking Elana's hand once again.

 "She only showed what she wanted you to see, Buck."

 "Dance with a girl a couple times and she thinks you owe her or somethin'."

 The blond quirked an eyebrow at his friend.  "Was it only dancin'?"

 "What you gettin' at, Rogers?"

 "You ditched some other girl for her once before."

 His head swiveled to stare at the smaller man in shock. "I did?"

 Elana spoke up. "Sounds like you have quite the selection of dance partners to choose from."

 Steve snorted. "Guy has been doll-dizzy since he was twelve."

 "What can I say? I appreciate fine art." Bucky said with a self-satisfied grin.

 "Don't usually lock lips with paintings or statues…"

 "You know what, Rogers!"

 Elana laughed as Bucky let go of her hand to race around her and put Steve in a headlock. The two pretended to box for a couple minutes, grins on both their faces. When finished, the champion boxer slid up to her, a rakish smile teasing his lips as he claimed her hand back.

 "Well if those gals are fine art, you sweetheart, are a masterpiece." He twirled her around once, making her dress flare out around her legs. "Have I told you yet how beautiful you look tonight?"

 "Yes, Bucky."

 "Good, I'd hate for you to forget." He winked and the trio started walking again. 

 "Oh, here." Steve suddenly said, fishing something out of his pocket. He held out his hand almost shyly.  

 She took the offered item to see it was the napkin with the sketch on it. "Oh, Steve. Muchas gracias." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a red stain behind. "Oops."

 "Here." Bucky tossed over a handkerchief to Steve. 

 She glanced at the napkin one more time before reverently placing it in her clutch. She already knew where she was going to put this in her room so she would always remember this night.

 "Oh drat." Steve said after glancing at his watch. "It's almost eleven. I have class early tomorrow."

 "Go on, punk. I'll look after her."

 Elana hugged Steve and was thrilled when he squeezed her back just as tightly. "I'm so happy to have met you."

 "This isn't goodbye, right?"

 "I hope not. You have more artwork to show me."

 He blushed yet nodded before giving Bucky a quick hug. 

 "Night, Steve."

 "Night, jerk."

 Together, they watched Steve walk down the sidewalk, wave back at them then disappear down the next street. 

 "Wanna keep walkin'?"

 She nodded. She knew she should go home. It was getting late and she still had to get back to Queens. Yet walking side by side with this man whom she had only met several hours ago, she found the idea abhorrent. Glancing up at the night sky, only a couple of the stars were visible through the smoke, clouds and street lamps. They were lovely though, a reminder that there were greater things out there, one just had to look for them. At least, that is what her father always said. 

 "Hey," Bucky's voice pulled her attention back, "I never got to say it earlier but thanks...for havin’ Steve's back earlier today. Punk doesn't know when to quit."

 "I'm glad he got in that fight...is that odd? If he didn't, I wouldn’t have met either one of you."

 "Alright, this ONE time I'm glad he got in a fight. Though, we probably would have ran into each other eventually."

 They walked in comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Two cars passed them separately and only a handful of people walked their way. Otherwise it almost felt like they were alone. It was peaceful, still holding hands and wandering the streets of Brooklyn.  

 "Y'know, I was kinda hopin' we'd get at least one slow song at the dance hall."

 "Me too." She confessed. 

 "Well, we should!" An idea sparked in his eyes. "Wait here." He moved over to one of the parked cars near them. He tried to open it but it was locked so he moved to the next one. This one opened without hesitation and he slid in. The whole time Elana switched between watching Bucky and scanning the streets for someone to yell at them. What was he thinking? Suddenly music came on, drifting from the radio through the open passenger door. 

 Bucky stood there, leaning against the car with the biggest grin on his smug face. "Who needs a dance hall?"

 She laughed, understanding what he had done. "We’re going to get in trouble."

 "No, we ain't. C'mon."

 "Oh, Dios mío, yes we are!" 

 "Dance with me." He cooed, standing before her looking like an Adonis. 

 With that lazy smirk and enthralling blue eyes staring down at her, refusal was not an option. The words died on her tongue as she stared up at him. The music was slow, a singer crooning about his love. The moment felt like something from a fairytale story her mother would tell her as a little girl. She knew she should go home. Stop this heat that seared through her when she found herself caught in his eyes. Stop the butterflies in her stomach when around him. Stop the way she melted under his touch, his hands always so gentle. 

 But she wanted this. Right now. To pretend this was her reality. To dance with her prince under the stars. That love did not care about the differences in their skin tones. For when the sun rose and this dream faded, reality would seep back in. Plus, he was a charmer. Doll-dizzy. She would not keep his attention past this night. 

 For now though, she could pretend. Enjoy the night in a way she never had before. 

 He placed her hands behind his neck and his on her hips. Standing there under the streetlight and distant starlight, they danced, swaying back and forth. Her head landed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath it. So steady and soothing. The world faded away around them, the only things that mattered was their dancing and the music. It wrapped around them like a warm, thick blanket. Enveloping them in a sense of security and vitality. One of his hands slowly traced her spine leaving a trail of fire behind. His cheek pressed against the top of her head. She felt safe...and wanted. A heady feeling that she could sense herself beginning to crave even more. Her hand tangled in the hair, her fingers lightly scraping the back of his neck. 

 "Say something in Spanish." He whispered, his lips against her scalp. 

 "Gracias por esto ... todo esto. Ha sido la mejor noche de mi vida".

 She looked back up at him, hoping to convey without words what she said. As she lifted her head up, their eyes locked. Tension filled the empty space around them, pulling them closer. For a split second, his eyes drifted to her lips and back up. Her heartbeat began racing anew. Slowly, as if waiting for her to turn away, his head tilted towards hers, his hands gripping her just a little tighter. His breath fanned across her face, warming her inside and out. She swore her heart was going to beat out of her chest. His nose brushed hers, an almost timid action that drew a smile from her. He chuckled silently then somehow pulled her even closer. She closed her eyes, a gasp escaping her when she felt the faintest touch of his lips on the corner of her mouth. 

 "Hey! Hey, you kids! What ya doin’ with my car?!" 

 All the tension evaporated like rain drops under the scorching sun. 

 "Shit...c'mon!" He grabbed her hand and started running away. Holding on tight, she ran next to him, as well as she could while wearing heels. The yells of the car's owner soon a distant sound behind them. 

 Finally, they stopped two streets later. He let go of her hand, running his hands through his hair and pacing. She leaned against the brick wall, hand over her mouth, giggles spilling forth between gasps of air. Never in her life had she done anything like this. She closed her eyes as the giggles turned into full-body laughter. One hand covered her mouth and the other wrapped around her own waist to try and contain the sound. This night was nothing like she expected but it only seemed to get better and better. This newfound revelry of youthful zeal, this silly recklessness...she wanted more and more of it. 

 When the laughter dissolved into small chuckles, she wiped her eyes as she opened them, hoping her make-up had not smudged too much. Not that she particularly cared in the moment.

 What she saw standing before her killed the laughter on her tongue. 

 Bucky stood just at arm's length, staring at her like she was the stars in the heavens. 

 In a single step, he crowded her against the brick wall. "Elana…" he growled, voice low, and it might have been the most exhilarating sound she had ever heard. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, as he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, their lips just pressed together. A soft pressure that made her melt into his arms. 

 He leaned back to press his forehead against hers. His breath just as shaky as hers, both still breathing hard from their run. 

 "That was my first kiss." She blurted out, immediately regretting the words once they escaped. 

 He leaned back to look her in the eye. "Really?"

 She shrugged nervously. "Not many fellas lining up to kiss a girl like me."

 "Their loss, doll face." He smirked, running a thumb over her bottom lip. "May I have the honor of your second kiss ever?"

 She giggled and nodded. 

 This time when their lips touched, it felt like more. The first was like licking the spoon used after mixing cookie dough. A taste of what was to come. The second kiss was eating warm cookies right out of the oven and practically ascending to heaven. 

 His lips slanted over hers perfectly, as if they were formed just for her. Their mouths moved in tandem, picking up speed. No longer were the kisses sweet and gentle. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she willingly opened her mouth to receive it like a present. These kisses were all-consuming and fiery. It was as if his touch seared into her soul, leaving an imprint there for all eternity. 

 She knew right away when she met Bucky Barnes, he was trouble. He was the kind of man her mother warned her about. The kind to sweep her off her feet and make her forget the world around her. He was kind, charming and so full of life. Yet she knew even as she was wrapped in his arms, lips pressed against his, that there was one truth that would haunt her. Even if she ignored it for now. That truth would never leave. So she overlooked it, sinking deeper and deeper into his kisses and embrace. Drowning herself in him. With her back pressed against the wall, her hands tangled in his hair and mouths devouring one another, she had never felt more alive. 

 Tonight, she would choose the fire he poured into her. Tonight, she wanted to enjoy life without fear. Tonight, she wanted to pretend that this night would never end. To thrive in this feeling of passion and life, that nothing could go wrong. 

 For the truth was one day, he was bound to break her heart.

[sukiglycerin]

first love & letter (ラブレター)

* pairing: izuku midoriya x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, oh god

* words: 1,543

* warnings: reader constantly daydreams,.,. yeah

* original request: this is my first time requesting something here…idk if i’m doing it right..but anyways a izukuxreader where reader is trying to muster up the courage to give izuku a love letter only to lose it at school and izuku ends up being the one who finds it ? please and thank u

* a/n: here it is!! nonnie, i hope you like it! i feel special bc this is your first request >< thank you for entrusting it to me! also, what is it with me and using seventeen for izuku fic titles….?

“izuku.” you would say his name like a song, a pretty bird’s melody. “this is for you.” the words would fall like sugary cherry syrup from your lips, warm and sweet and twinkling. like sugar, he’d melt; a cherry-tinge on his cheeks and a stutter on his tongue. simply put, it’d be because he’s secret harboured a crush on you for years now and planned to confess to you, too, at this exact moment. or was that too cliche?

he would accept the letter, a question on his lips but only you on his mind. he would look from you to the letter with those sparkling emerald eyes as he read his name in your script on the envelope, and maybe he’d connect the dots in his head.

no, no, no, he wouldn’t - he’d open the letter first, and you’d feel your face flush watching his scarred fingers hold the paper so delicately. you’d watch his face get pinker and pinker and see his lips part in surprise. you imagine what he’d say - a plain “i like you too”? or just your name, a lovely tune when on his tongue? you know what it’d feel like, though, when he’d finally say the words back. you’d read about it too many times - the hitch in his breath, the crescent moon curve to his eyes.

the world would disappear until it was only you and izuku. you’d only see him, your heart aflutter under his gaze that’s only meant for you. you would step forward toward him hesitantly, only to realize that it just felt right. he’d step forward too and you would be so close to him and your senses would cloud in a mess of adrenaline and euphoria until-

“you seem distracted, y/n-chan,” tsuyu commented as the two of you walked down the hallway.

“ah… do i…?” you sheepishly looked away. “just… thinking. that’s all, tsu.”

“is it about midoriya?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

midoriya. it was the name that had you in a tizzy, surrounded by dreamy clouds in a castle in the sky. he was the boy you’d liked for years now; midoriya izuku, the plain, kind boy that held your heart in his roughed up hands unknowingly.

“i- what- who said anything about izuku?” you laughed nervously, feeling your cheeks get warm. “izuku?? what- what makes you think it’s about him??” you’d only ever told yaoyorozu about him in a bout of embarrassment.

“you always look at him and talk to him, ribbit,” tsuyu said bluntly.

“do i…?” you twiddled with your fingers, debating what to say. you settled on the truth. “yeah, i was thinking about him,” you admitted quietly.

“ribbit, you fit him well.”

“you think?” you looked at her hopefully, walking into the classroom. “actually, i was planning to-” you caught izuku’s eye on the other side of the classroom and quickly looked away. “i should sit down, now,” you said to tsuyu.

“good luck with your plan, ribbit,” she smiled.

so far, your plan was going smoothly. you took a deep breath as you walked to your seat behind midoriya’s and channeled your inner shoujo manga protagonist.

“good morning, izuku!” you said cheerily, smiling at him.

“morning, y/n!” he smiled back.

you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. all you needed to do now was give him the letter. you rummaged through your backpack for the envelope, but turned up empty. where could it be…? you panicked. you swore you put it in your backpack this morning, but it was gone. the chime of the school bell filled your ears and a very sleepy aizawa slugged into the room. you decided to drop the matter for now and look for the letter later.

your brain found the aizawa’s droning to be very good white noise for your daydreaming. slowly it faded out, and you found yourself in a new izuku-centered daydream.

your daydreams were lived through a rose-colored glass, through alluring words and fortune on every corner. you could live vibrantly and thoroughly in your mind, where you were safe. the real world was nothing like the utopia you’d created; in your imagination, you could predict the right move and you could curate your experience. the real world was not so merciful.

while the thought of your lost letter nagged the back of your head, you weren’t too worried about it. you figured you must’ve left it at home. your mind was more set on thoughts of izuku.

rationally, you knew your confession to izuku would be clumsy, all mumbles and shifting of feet. you consoled yourself in daydreams.

truth be told, you tried to give izuku the love letter months ago with some chocolates you’d made for valentine’s day. you couldn’t even give izuku the chocolates directly; you left him to wonder who’d left the prettily-wrapped homemade chocolates on his desk. you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell him directly, either. speaking was never your real strong suit. you took comfort in writing. that’s why yaoyorozu had suggested a letter confessing your feelings instead. though, rather than leave it on his desk, you had wanted to give it to him personally. it was much easier said than done. every time you’d almost gathered up the nerve to give it to him, there was an interference of some sort. you could never find the perfect time to give him the note.

now, you mused miserably, you wouldn’t get the time to give it to him. by the end of the day, you were unable to find the letter. the bell signalling the end of the day chimed and you groaned softly to yourself, burying your head in your arms on your desk. why couldn’t anything go right? why couldn’t you be the protagonist in your own shoujo manga? if only life was like your daydreams, like the romance novels you’d been enraptured.

take away the rosy glass and you were left here, alone and unable to even confess to the boy you’ve liked for years.

“uh, y/n?” a shaky voice asked. you didn’t bother looking up, too busy with your own problems.

“what,” you moaned flatly.

“did you-?”

you looked up at the speaker, eyes widening at the sight of a befuddled izuku midoriya holding an envelope and letter.

“where,” you exhaled shakily, “did you find that?”

“it was on the ground, near the door,” he said. “did you-”

your cheeks felt warm - on fire. you could barely look up at him, much less look him in the eye. this was not how you planned it. you were frozen in place, eyes fixed on your desk.

“did you write this?” he asked. his voice was not accusatory nor condescending; it was polite with what you thought was a twinge of astonishment. of course, izuku was always modest and humble. you felt your confidence slowly draining from your body as thoughts rushed through your head. of course he was surprised; there was no way he actually thought of you like that. you were unfrozen by the trembling of your hands and you slowly forced yourself to look up.

when you met izuku’s eyes, they were nothing like you’d imagined. they were effervescent yet cavernous in some sense of the word. they were not exactly sparkling or scintillating, but earnest and steadily reaching into your eyes. you mused that it was better than the face-value happiness you’d expected from him. this was the izuku you fell for, empathetic and compassionate. his kindness never ceased to amaze you.

by now it was probably a tad bit awkward. you stared at him for an eternal second, forgetting of his question that hung in the air.

“oh, yeah,” you cleared your throat and attempted to calm your trembling hands. you tried to embody being calm, cool, and collected - but it hadn’t translated so well into your body language. “yes. uh, yes, i…. i did write it.”

“really?” he looked at you excitedly, eyes glimmering with hope.

“yeah,” you said bashfully, warming with embarrassment. “i’ve liked you for… well, a long time.”

“you- you did?” it was his turn to get embarrassed. “ah… so have i…” he put his hand on the back of his neck.

“…oh, you did…?” you’d always assumed he had no interest in you; you got no sign he felt otherwise. he accepted everyone’s chocolates on valentine’s day (including all of the pretty, homemade ones from girls that fancied him, which was slightly discouraging but completely made sense considering izuku’s kind nature).

the conversation dipped into silence as you stared at each other.

“your handwriting is really pretty,” izuku confessed.

“you- you think? thank you…” you pursed your lips, wishing you could take compliments better. “do you-“

“do you-”

you cracked a grin. “you first.”

“do you,” he coughed awkwardly, “wanna walk home together?” pink dusted his cheeks like sakura denbu (not really the best simile, but it was the first thing that came to mind when thinking of something that matched the rosy hue).

“i was about to ask the same thing,” you replied.

for the first time, you felt reality wasn’t so dull after all. maybe it was time to toss out that pink glass.

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 20 - fireplace

24 days - 24 oneshots | a collection of christmas themed oneshots to celebrate royai | prompt list can be found here

read on ao3

rated: g | words: 1719

“Do you have a stocking?”

Riza removed her head from being buried inside her book. She regarded the young alchemist, completely puzzled. Why was he asking her about what she wore underneath her trousers to keep her legs warm in the winter?

“A stocking?”

“Yeah,” Roy replied, not picking up on her confused tone.

“What do you need one for?”

“It’s – No reason,” he hurriedly deflected. His gaze averted from hers quickly.

“What –?”

“Do you have one?” He asked again, just wanting her to answer yes or no.

But why would he want just one? It was a very strange question, Riza thought.

“I mean… Typically I wear two at the one time. I think everyone does.”

“Wear,” Roy echoed, looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.

“Well… Yes,” Riza answered, just as baffled as he was. “What else do you use them for?”

“You hang them on the fireplace,” he explained.

“Hang them on it? But they’ll rip. The material is only thin.”

His expression grew even more incredulous which led Riza to believe something may have been lost in translation along the way…

“I don’t know why they’d be hung on the fireplace, other than hanging them near it for them to dry more quickly,” she continued. “Or, to heat them up before wearing them outside if it was a particularly cold day.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Roy lifted his hands and waved them in front of him hurriedly. “What are you talking about?”

“I wear stockings outside in the cold,” she explained. “I would maybe hang them by the fire to provide some extra warmth before going out but wouldn’t keep them there or pin them to it. They’d rip. What are you talking about?”

“Christmas stockings!”

Riza blinked at him. “Are they adorned with a particularly festive pattern?”

“What?” He was exasperated now and looking at her like she’d really lost it.

“I don’t know!” Riza huffed defensively. She half turned away from him, shooting him a glare out the side of her eye. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks the longer he stared at her with disbelief.

Realisation dawned on Roy’s face and he let out an elongated “oh”.

“No! No, not winter stockings like we were outside in the snow!” He scrambled to correct himself, realising where he’d gone wrong with his wording. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear enough. I was talking about a Christmas stocking. It’s what we put little gifts into from Santa,” he explained further. “They’re hung up on at the fireplace because he’ll come down the chimney and fill the stocking up before he leaves.”

Riza’s shoulders slowly relaxed, peeling away from her ears. “A Christmas stocking?”

Roy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I sometimes get some fruit. Or a little toy. Probably two or three of them. Aunt Chris always tells us that if we’re bad they’ll be filled with coal,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I’ve never had coal though.” He beamed with pride.

“Oh.”

“So, do you have one?”

Riza shook her head. “I don’t.”

The excitement slowly died down on Roy’s face. “You… You don’t have one?”

“We don’t really celebrate it,” Riza replied. Her tone was subdued but steady as she spoke.

She never remembered celebrating it and couldn’t understand why a sadness would wash over her whenever she went into town and saw all the other children her age incredibly excited as they clutched at their gifts.

Roy fell silent and contemplative. He stared down at his lap with a crease in between his eyebrows.

Riza watched warily, wondering what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Okay…”

He was too casual and brushed it off too easily after seeing his excitement while explaining the tradition to her initially. Riza thought it was rather suspicious.

He grinned at her and went back to studying his alchemy books without another word.

Too baffled by his reply, Riza kept her mouth closed and continued on with her chores.

She expected nothing from the holiday and knew she would receive nothing, so Roy’s comment didn’t really bother her. It only left her perplexed as to where the thought had suddenly stemmed from.

Deep down inside, in a compartment that was almost too dark for Riza to see into, there was a tiny sliver of hope. Memories of seeing her school peer’s faces light up when their parents bought them gifts in town filled Riza’s mind. Just once… Just one time, Riza would like to experience a joy like that. To have someone think of her and buy a gift for her out the goodness of their heart.

But she knew that would never happen. Riza quickly squashed that tiny piece of hope, feeling foolish for ever thinking such a thing.

*          *          *

It was the day Roy was due to leave for the train station that he came barrelling into the living room. Father was working in his study and Riza was working on patching up some of her old clothes. The trousers she was working on had holes in them at the knees from her gardening, so she was currently working on applying patches to them. They would be mismatched but they were only worn for seeding vegetables and tending to the tiny number of flowers that still clung desperately to the soil in Mother’s old garden.

“Hey.” Roy’s face was flushed as he skidded to a halt in the doorway. His hair was mussed up, dishevelled, and he was breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong?” Riza was instantly alert. Her clothes were shoved to the side and she rose to stand.

“Nothing,” he reassured with a shake of his head. Roy smiled at her, a small one, but it was completely genuine. “Come with me.”

“Why?”

“Please,” he pleaded. “I don’t have much time before I have to leave, and I just finished getting your surprise ready.”

“Surprise?” She stared at Roy, wondering if she’d misheard him.

“Yes, surprise!” he beamed. “Come on!”

Once Riza was close enough, Roy grasped her wrist loosely in his hand and tugged her gently towards the stairs.

She jerked her hand away and it made Roy falter. There was a beat of silence as he looked back at her, surprised by her sudden rebuttal of his touch.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she dismissed, resisting the urge to rub at her wrist. It didn’t hurt, but the action had startled her. She initially didn’t like it but… His hand had been warm, and his touch had been gentle. It wasn’t rough and he didn’t pull so hard he tripped her up. He just wanted to move along with her. He wasn’t harsh of uncaring. He was calm and encouraging.

“Okay.” He glanced down at her twitching hand then back up at her face. “Sorry, I didn’t – I’m sorry for grabbing you. If you didn’t like it,” he added, suddenly looking fearful and ashamed.

“Oh. It’s okay –” Riza stuttered, trying to ignore the reminder of his warm hand encompassing her wrist, pulling her along with him so they could walk side by side. Her cheeks turned pink and she became mortified by her knee jerk reaction to recoil from him.

“Riza?” His voice was soft as he called to her, a hint of a smile on his lips. He jerked his head towards the stairs. “I have something to show you,” he tried again. “A surprise. Would you like to come with me?”

Riza nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Awesome,” he grinned. He climbed one step before turning around to wait for her to catch up. He set the pace but ensured they remained side by side as they ascended the staircase.

Her surprise was in her bedroom. Riza was confused immediately as he gestured for her to grasp the handle to her own room.

“What –?”

“Go inside and look,” he urged without further explanation. She was sure the smile on his face may split it in two. He looked extremely proud of himself.

She glanced around but her eyes came to settle upon the ancient, unused fireplace in her bedroom. Something was pinned into the wood. Something red and white.

A Christmas stocking, just like she’d seen in town weeks ago.

“What –” She blinked at it, wondering what that was doing in her bedroom –

“Here.”

He lightly tapped her elbow before walking further into the room. He approached the hearth and stopped, removing the stocking from it’s pin. Extending his arm, Roy held it out to Riza for her to take.

She was too surprised to move.

“It’s for you,” he added, seeing that she was still unmoving. “It’s your stocking, Riza! Look.”

On the side of it, near where the toes would sit in a normal stocking, was her name. It was embroidered in gold thread. Tears threatened to spring to her eyes, but she was still too shocked to let them fester.

Roy lifted her arms slowly and gently and pressed it into her hands. It left Riza no choice but to take a hold of it. And it was heavy. It was bulging in places. Looking down at the top she could see a box crudely wrapped in brown paper. There was more buried underneath, and it felt like there were quite a few.

“No opening them until Christmas Day though,” he teased, lifting a finger to waggle it in her direction.

“This…” Riza swallowed the lump in her throat.

Just once… Just one time, Riza would like to experience a joy like that. To have someone think of her and buy a gift for her out the goodness of their heart.

“Merry Christmas,” he winked.

“Roy –” She wanted to protest. This was too much for him to give her. He’d spent his own money on her. She couldn’t accept it.

“Think nothing of it,” he assured, trying to placate her. “Aunt Chris sent over the stocking and some of the goodies. I picked up a few in town. Can’t have Christmas without a stocking filled with gifts now, can we?” He flashed another smile at her.

“I…” Riza didn’t know how to respond.

“Hope you enjoy them.” He lifted his eyebrows playfully.

“Thank you,” she breathed, trying to rid her eyes of the tears forming in them.

[maddiethebull]

Satan (Obey Me!) - Prompt #9 - “I could quote a thousand poems, but none can describe what I feel.”

I’m BACK Y’ALL After some InTrOSpeCtioN and HeaLiNG and LoTS of CRyINg ;)

Sorry for my absence. I hope you like it and thank you for making a request! Requested by @l3v1sblog

Here’s a song to listen to while reading if you’d like:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_R0Ix90hFu8 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

You were cleaning around the lounge of The House of Lamentation, it was your chore for the day to help dust and reorganize whatever silverware or centerpieces that may be out of place. You always thought it was such a bore, you never found anything cool to talk about with the brothers while you cleaned there, unlike the many times you’d found an interesting book to talk about with Satan whilst you cleaned the library. Or the times that you found household items with huge bites taken out of them and asking Beel if he did it and him so innocently denying it… You were about to put some silverware away when something caught your eye, though, it was a red, leather bound book. There wasn't any writing on the cover, piquing your interest, so you opened it and the first thing you saw was a poem titled Suns and Seraphim dedicated to…… WAIT THAT’S YOUR NAME???. It read, 

“Could seraphim descend to earthly ground, 

For chance to brush thine lips with hues of rose;

Discard their grace and heav’nly guise, cast down,

They would; just as the sun is always bound.

The moon will rise upon the sun’s repose 

With gifts to thee inside night skies of opal tone

Of diamonds who’s shine dare not oppose  

That which resides in precious eyes, thine own. 

Si j'avais été dans le royaume des cieux 

Pour vous donner ces soleils souriants 

Et regarder votre beauté, 

Mon cœur volage me tenterait d'arracher 

Mes ailes angéliques et descendre; 

Je quitterais ce paradis creux pour être en Eden 

Avec mon amant, Mon ange de la terre, vous.

(written by Madeline Melcher (me lol) I dont know french so I used a translator btw)

Your jaw dropped, who could have written this?? It popped up in your head that it was most likely either Lucifer or Satan, it definitely wasn’t Mammon, Levi, or Beel. The maybes were Belphie and Asmo, but the chances they wrote that were rather slim. 

Curiosity killed the cat and you couldn’t restrain your fingers from flipping through the many filled pages of the notebook. Another page had read, 

“I could quote a thousand poems, but none can describe what I feel when I’m with you. You are a glimpse of a Heaven lost to betrayal, a sun that, for so long, I’ve been missing. I promise, someday I’ll show you these and then I’ll take you on a picnic (maybe in the human world?).”

Involuntarily, a smile made its way to your lips and a blush to your cheeks until you heard a knock on your door, it was Lucifer,

“MC, Why aren't you cleaning?”

Your heart sped up, what if it was Lucifer who wrote this? You began stuttering, you liked him, sure, but not in the way these poems talk about. Oh god… what if you had to turn down the second most powerful demon ever? Oh lawd. 

“MC, we enjoy having you here but if you don’t finish your chores and put down whatever book you're reading-”

A HUGE sigh of relief escaped you, 

“So you don’t know this book?” You asked, still slightly on edge. 

He answered, “How could I know what you’re reading? There's not even a title on it.” He sighed and stepped closer, he eyed the book and,  “Is that Satan’s Journal? Oh dear, MC, I believe you’ve made a rather stupid mistake.”

Your eyes were open wide as you sat completely still and quiet staring at the book in your hands. Lucifer spoke up, seeing that you looked quite shocked and perhaps a bit scared, 

“If you would like, I can put it back where it was. Though I will be giving you extra chores because it seems that you also know what you did was an invasion of my annoying brother’s privacy.”

You thought a moment then spoke, 

“No, I don’t feel good about that… I think I should give it back to him. I don’t wanna lie to him.”

“If that’s what you would like to do then I am nobody to stop you, just be careful and if something happens then don’t refrain from calling me for help.”

“Thank you Lu-”

In a seemingly dejected and scoffing tone Lucifer said, “And do your chores.” 

With that he left you all alone to contemplate a plan to give Satan his journal back. Your mind was clouded with a million thoughts, the most prominent one being ‘he really thinks of me like that?’ A brush of pink crept onto your cheeks, thinking of him writing these poems. Thinking of him thinking of you. You wished so much that you could just revel in these thoughts, but the issue at hand was that, like Lucifer had said, you invaded Satan’s privacy. ‘What if he doesn’t feel that way anymore...’ Excitement and fear mixed inside your mind making you feel overwhelmed. How would you go about this?

‘Maybe I can just leave it in front of his door with a note on it. But, no, what if someone else picks it up?’ 

‘I could just burn it and forget about everything…….. No, MC, that’s NOT what’s gonna happen.’

You thought and thought and came to the realization that the easiest and most moral way to take care of the situation was just to knock on his door and hand it to him. You would tell him what you did and apologize and it would go very super incredibly smooth… yeah. You picked up the book ad headed towards Satan’s room with conviction, ‘you can do this MC!’ you thought. But when you got to his room, you froze like Mammon’s credit cards. 

You’d never felt more anxious in your life. You liked Satan a great deal, he was handsome and charming, he had a soft side that he showed you often, he was wonderful. Even though these poems were made out to you, you felt as if it couldn't possibly be real. And moreover, this was the Avatar of Wrath’s personal journal that you had gone through... You breathed heavily to calm your nerves and gave yourself a mini pep talk. Then, finally, you  meekly knocked on the door. Satan opened the door and saw you standing there, a smile crossed his face, 

His blonde locks messily hung around his bright green eyes with a beautiful happy go lucky look in them, 

“Hello, MC, find something interesting today? I certainly did and would very much like to give it to you.” A sweet chuckle ran off his words as he began to show you in but he froze and his expression changed drastically. 

With his eyes open wide he asked while pointing to the book, 

“What’s that?”

Stuttering and mumbling, fumbling your words you managed to get out a small “I’m sorry”

Silence. Silence that was louder than the rumble of a volcano.

He cleared his throat, 

“Did- did you read it?” his eyes fixated on the book you held, he looked incredibly worried. You weren't looking at him so you could only assume that his visage was pure rage, something you, a mere human, were terrified of.

“I-I-I-I-”

You were cut off by a chuckle, although this time it wasn’t sweet, per say, more nervous. But through your ever amazing perception skills, you again thought he was angry with you and as he said, 

“MC, I-”

You blurted out, “I’m sorry!” and ran away. 

Your heart beat a million miles per hour as you hastily made your way to your room, locking the door and looking down to see that your dumbass TOOK THE BOOK. You were silent on the outside, but screaming like Hell on the inside. 

Just then, a voice wriggled it’s way through the wooden door, it was Asmo. 

“MC, do you think I could borrow your hair straightener? Mine broke and I can’t go anywhere looking like this!”

Shakily, you replied, “Sure, it’s just on my bathroom counter.”

He waltzed in all happy and pretty but the look on your face made him stop in his tracks,

“What’s wrong?” With those two words, you nearly burst into tears.

“Oh hun…” he said as he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, letting you rest your head on his arm. “Why don’t we go to my room and talk about it? I’ll even give you a makeover, that’d be nice, yeah?”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks, “Yeah.”

You told him all about it as he did your makeup, making you feel slightly better, though, it wasn’t really the makeup, it was more seeing how much the brothers cared about you in times like this. He began to finish his own makeup as you sat down on the bed and your restless thoughts ran out of your mouth as if it were a marathon.

“And he got angry at me, I can’t stand seeing him angry, and and-”

“MC, honey, calm down,” he said as he finished doing his eye makeup, focusing on his reflection in the vanity mirror. 

“How can I? These poems, they’re beautiful but I just read his journal without asking and I feel so horrible about it. And I’m really scared of him when he gets angry… I just don’t know if I can face him right now.” You flopped from sitting up to splaying out on the pale pink bedspread.

“You said the exact same thing just five minutes ago! You won’t get anywhere from repeating that.”

“UGH but it's all I can think about right now… What if he hates me because of this…”

Asmo let out a light chuckle, “He doesn’t hate you sweetie, I don’t think he can.”

You frowned, “You don’t know that.”

After a moment’s pause, looking at how distraught you were with the current situation, Asmo spoke again,

“MC, let me tell you a secret, I’ve been watching this whole thing unravel, I could sense rom com vibes since the day you waltzed in! You should’ve heard the way he talked about you, it was constant ‘MC this and MC that’ ‘Oh I made MC laugh today,’ ‘MC let me borrow her pen’ ‘MC asked me to get coffee,’” Asmo said while doing a ridiculous impression of Satan, “But you can’t tell him I told you this or he’ll probably string me up by the ankles.”

You chuckled and when your smile faded, Asmo looked you in the eye and said in a sincere voice,

“He likes you girlie, I would even say he loves you. I’ve never seen him care about someone so much. When I said I don’t think he can hate you, I meant it. So go back there and tell him what you feel, this is the climax of your love story! And believe me when I say a good climax can fix anything!”

“Asmo ew.”

“Hehe, too much?”

You looked at the red book cover, “He really said that?”

Asmo rolled his eyes with a smile, 

“Yes! So what’re you waiting for?? I can feel the stress seeping out of you and it's not good for my skin.”

Meanwhile in his room Satan was pacing like a worried cat, mumbling to himself. ‘I knew MC didn’t feel that way…’ ‘How could I be so reckless? I left my journal in the dining room of all places!’ With a frustrated grunt, he brought his hands to his face, lowkey slapping himself in the face.  He sat down on his bed and tousled with his hair, as he did so, his focus was taken by a single blooming Mirage Flower on his desk. He winced and flopped onto his bed face down. The sigh he let out after that held an almost tangible emotion of frustration. He was frustrated with himself, but also with you. He didn’t plan on you finding out like this and it made him feel, well, kind of lame. He imagined telling you many times, none were as embarrassing as you reading his journal. He wanted to sweep you off of your feet like a prince in one of Levi’s animes, with the flowers mysteriously blooming and all of that. He turned to the side, restless and angry with himself and again was there the flower he had secretly picked from Diavolo’s garden, only to give to you. His lips turned to a frown and he sat up again, taking the flower from it’s vase and like a child, he plucked each petal saying “MC loves me.” “MC loves me not.” As the flower diminished to just the stem he finished with “MC loves me.” ‘Hmph, I look like I’m losing it, don’t I?’ he thought. Still, this powerful demon’s heart felt aflutter from something as silly as the words “MC loves me” as he plucked the final petal from the pistal. Those petals that would soon dry out and crumble to dust reflected in his aquamarine eyes like lilies floating in a pond. His brow furrowed and he decided it best to lay down looking the other way. 

You got off of Asmo’s bed, dropping the journal with the spine facing the ground, making it open to the last page that had only one sentence on it. Your heart beat sped up as you read the short entry and what you read was enough to make you happy for entire lifetimes. 

“I've loved you every day before today and I will love you every day after.”

You didn’t know why, but it was enough to bring the hint of tears to your eyes. He really thought of you like that? Did you think of him like that? As intensely in love as these poems and pages had shown?

Now holding the book in your hands, looking at the same red leather cover but seeing something different. You smiled, and said “Yeah. I think I do.”

Asmo turned around with a confused look on his face, “You do what?”

A blush rose to your cheeks much like a rose in bloom, 

“I love him.”

You left the room determined, set firmly on a path to Satan’s bedroom. 

All alone in his room, Asmo chuckled, 

“Have fun dearie.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

This was a long one, I wrote this over a long period of time and I changed it up a lot. I was feeling sad when I wrote a lot of this, so it’s a bit really sad and I decided to end it like this because it kind of felt right? Like instead of explaining the whole thing from beginning to end, it would be a better read and be a better experience for the readers to be able to imagine whatever ending they would like when confronting the character Satan. I’m open to writing an ending that includes MC finally confronting him, though, just say the word and I’ll finish the story in a different way :) Thanks for reading! <3

also as a BONUS:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9raS7-NisU this song is basically what Satan was thinking the entire time lmao 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

omg could write something with pretty please by dua lipa and calum? I love your writing!! 💗

Thanks for the suggestion. I’m attempting my hand after a very stressful few hours today. Because of this, I’ll extend it. You can continue sending song suggestions until Sunday, June 7th 7PM EST. 

Enjoy my masterlist. 

Support me on Ko-fi. 

*No one has my permission to repost, including translations. Copyright be-ready-when-i-say-go, 2020*

Female Reader Insert. CW: 18+ Content, so pls don’t interact if you’re underage! Choking, Smut, Sex without a condom (PLS be safe folks--safe sex is the sexiest sex out there, I promise you).

__________________________________________

Hands On Me

I’m a little stressed out. 

Calum stares down at the text, biting his lower lip. He promised he’d finish tracking the bass for this last song before leaving the studio today so that the rough cut would be shown to the producer tomorrow morning, first thing. There was no way, if he went over to her house, after this text that he would be in any shape to get up early and finish tracking before anyone else got into the studio. 

Be a good little one for me. Give me an hour.

He can almost almost the pout. That’s so long, baby. Attached in a picture of her dressed in a silk robe, that obstructing a perfect view of her tits. But not hiding the valley between them, the one where she tattooed a gorgeous bouquet. It wasn’t anything fancy, one rose, one tulip, and one sunflower, tied together by their stems. “Fuck,” he mumbles aloud, feeling his gut tense up. Another text shakes his phone. 

An hour. Or I start without you.

He groans into the empty space, headphones falling onto his neck as he throws his head back. God, he why’d she have to go and do him like that. She knew all his fucking buttons. It was so unfair, but god, he did love it at the same time. Thankfully, he’s able to finish tracking. His last take was practically perfect, but there was something missing on the playback and he wasn’t sure what it was, and he was going to sit in that studio all night if that’s what it took. 

But the lingering threat pushes Calum. He doesn’t have all night. As his fingers slide up and down the frets, over strings and plucking, Calum let’s the image of her wash over him. The glint in her eyes whenever she’s been a tease. Or the giggle that escapes her whenever she gets a punishment she knows she was gunning for. 

By the time the song ends, Calum listens back and almost wants to laugh. THat somehow all he was missing was her in the song, in almost everything it felt like. Like he was missing her when he got up in the mornings, or like he was missing her at breakfast, or how he felt a small twinge of longing whenever she posted about being out and bout, because he wanted to be out and about with her too. 

It was just easier this way though. It was easier not to dive in to those feelings when everything around them was just starting to straighten itself back out. It was easier to pretend than it was to attempt to have anything real when it would only ever end up in ashes. 

Saving his recording and shelving the instrument, he checks his phone. He has a little over half an hour left. He’s going to be cutting it close but he can still do it. 

His knock at the door is answered by her almost immediately as his hand falls from the door. “Want something to eat?” It’s a sincere question. But she’s sitll in that robe, this time it’s tied close though. Calum steps in, slipping out of his shoes. 

He answers at first with just a shake of his head. “Not that, not right now,” he answers. “A little birdie told me that someone was stressed.” He keeps his voice low and soft but she hears it clear as day over the click of her lock. 

His hands slide around her waist. His lips are ghosting over the shell of her ear. “That simply don’t do,” he exhales and it goes straight to her core. She melts into him and Calum melts into her. 

It’s nothing by kisses and groping hands as they walk down the hallway to her bedroom. The tie around the robe goes, allowing the material to fall open and Calum smiles at the feeling of her warm flesh. She’s quick though to pull the hat off and the t-shirt off his body. Her nails scratch over his flesh and Calum has to shiver, as to succumb to the feeling of her working over him. 

Her lips find his neck and she works works the pants open and down his legs. The robe falls off, leaving her bare minus the thong, and even that it’s barely doing its job to cover anything. “I should make you beg,” Calum muses as he walks her to the edge of the bed. 

“But you wouldn’t. Need you.” It’s so simple. The two words that fall from her lips but they somehow mean everything when she blinks up at him. “Don’t make me beg. Pretty please. With a cherry on top.”

Calum laughs, fingers trailing around her nipple and pulling at the erect nub. “I know exactly where you can get on top. Want you to ride my face, yeah?”

“Aye aye captain.” She scoots up on the bed, allowing Calum to lay down. Her hips come up as she peels herself out of the floss of underwear. She’s slow though, as she crawls up Calum’s body. She takes her time, savoring the way he shakes and whimpers at her kisses along his thighs. She kisses up his tummy, pausing just a moment when he laughs to tickle the spot that caused it. 

“That is not sexy,” he huffs.

She shrugs. “No, but it was fun.” Over his tattoo, she teases his nipple with the tip of her tongue. Calum swears he’s going to explode right there on the spot. He’s going to loose all control of his senses and just evaporate into mist at the heat in his gut. 

When her knees pass over his shoulders though, Calum reaches up to guide her hips down and enjoys the first taste of her, savoring it before swallowing her down. She shudders above him, gripping onto the headboard, the metal cook against her fingers thanks to the fan blowing. “Fuck,” she sighs when his tongue laps over her again. 

Calum moans when she finally finds the strength for a pace, to rock over his face. He could die right here, just in the fountain of her. It would be a hell of a way to go. Her fingers dig at his hair, tugging at the strands and his scalp. He lts out a muffled cry, enjoying the small pricks of pain. 

His finger dig into her flesh and she goes woozy, at the feeling of her orgasm creeping up and the way Calum’s so desperate beneath her. He pushes her down, locking her thighs up in a tight grip and absolutely does not let up. Her eyes are screwed up tight but she can see splotches in her vision as her toes curls. She holds herself up by the headboard. “Shit, Calum,” she whines, trying to last longer, trying to find something else to ground herself too. But there is only his tongue and the sctratch of his stubble at her inner things. And it’s only Calum filling her senses. 

So over she goes, gasping and grunting into the warming air of her bedroom as her orgasm rocks her. “Oh God, oh God,” she chants, trying to get a good breath. 

Calum lets her go, just a little, kissing across her sensitive and swollen core, to her inner thighs that are turning just a hair pink. She sinks into the mattress next to him, chest still heaving but she grins at the feeling of him kissing at her shoulder. “Any more stress?”

“Not the same stress as before,” she laughs, fingers curling into his hair. It brings his attention to her and she kisses over his chin, licking up her arousal before they share another kiss. 

Calum trails his hand up her hip, over the dip over her stomach and traces over the three flowers in her cleavage before his hand settles around her throat. She hums at the pressure, it’s not even hard, not even like he’s actually choking her. But she knows he could. He knows he could. 

“Say it again for me,” Calum whispers in her ear. 

“Say what?”

“How much you need me? How you don’t want me to make you beg for it.”

“That would just tickle your peach wouldn’t it?”

He sucks a hickey onto the swell of her breast. “Maybe it would,” he smirks, watching the way her head throws back into the pillow and her hips start to rise up from the sheets. 

“Please, please. Want you so damn bad. Need you to fill me up with your seed.”

It’s an agreement between them, with her on the pill. And there’s always the option to opt out. But right now, Calum thinks of how pretty she would look wrecked from him and his cum spilling out of her. It makes his cock twitch. “Oh, you know just want to say,” he hums before removing his hand from her throat. 

It takes just a moment for Calum to completely disrobe and in the mean time, she pulls at her own nipples, watching him fully bare in front of him. She moves to her knees on the bed, arms winding around his neck as he stands his knees pressing into the edge of the mattress. They share breathes for a moment, noses touching. “Something wrong?” he asks. 

“No, just needed to be close to you. Having you close just feels right.”

It makes his chest warm and he wonders if somewhere along the way he lied to himself and to her, that he was doomed to fall just a little when sex got involved. Right now, even though the thought comes to him, it doesn’t linger as she grasps him, running her palm over the length of him. “Hands and knees for me, doll?”

“Magic words,” she demands. 

“Pretty please.”

It’s with a flashing grin she concedes, leaving Calum with a perfect view. Along her spine is another tattoo. This one is of a script he’s never been able to decipher that falls down into a waterfall. It’s a piece and he loves to trace up it to the back of her neck before sliding to the front and cupping her throat. Which is always does before bringing her back into his chest. 

But for right now, he settles for a couple gentle smacks to her ass before lining himself up. He settles for just teasing her with his tip and watching her wiggle her ass just for him. It’s just for him. All for him. The thought makes him dizzy, but nothing grounds him like how slick she is, how she grips onto him like no one else ever could. He keeps one knee on the bed just for leverage, his hands full of her hips as he guides her in time with his movements. 

They sigh, not quite into each other, but at each other at the feeling. She hums, enjoying just how thick Calum is, stretching her out in a way that always borders on too much but never exceeds it. It’s a welcomed warmth that fades into the heath of pleasure. The sounds of hips slapping into ass and thighs bounces around her room. 

She can loose herself like this, hand fisting her sheets and crying out for Calum over and over as his hips drive her closer and closer to release. Calum runs his hands over her skin, like trying to remember every bump but knowing he’ll ultimately get lost in the feeling of her. He’ll always lose awareness in the way she whines for him. 

“So, good for me,” he praises, watching her arch even more for him.

“Ah, shit,” she huffs, when Calum brings a hand down to the front of her and playing at her clit. She’s not going to last like this and with her teeth gritted she lets the orgasm crash into her. She lets it consume her and though there’s a skyrocket in pleasure, his fingers keep playing through her release. She can feel her muscle tensing and quivering. “Please,” she whines, finding just enough strength to grab his wrist. 

Calum doesn’t need to be told twice before sliding it up her body. He takes a second for each breast and then holds her throat again, pulling her into his chest. His hips are still snapping, still rocking. Her head is swimming. “Stay with me. This is what you wanted,” he pants. 

She knows that but what she didn’t expect was that even though she’s cum twice her body wants to push for a third. She can feel the twinge of it, just on the horizon. It leaves her though when Calum pulls out and guides her to her back towards the center of the bed and climbs fully onto the mattress now. 

She gives into gravity, but find the edges of the galaxies again when Calum reenters her. Her nails claw at his back, whining at how she borders overstimulation. But it feels so good. Her nose is invaded with the scent of his sweat and cologne. Any worry she had early today is completely gone. 

Calum bites at her shoulder, trying to keep his orgasm at bay but there’s really no use. He cums, praising in her ear, “So good for me. Gonna be so full when I’m done,” he grunts softly. His hips stuttering but sure to give her every drop. 

They spend a moment, embracing and Calum finally pulls back, slow to retract himself. She keeps herself open to him, so he can watch just as a tiny bit leaks out of her but he pushes it back in with him thumb. “Not wasting anything,” he states. 

It takes a couple minutes for them to regain strength. As the bruises and hickies blossom in the shower, she spends a moment washing over his back. “Seriously though, when’s the last time you ate today?”

“I had lunch? I can’t remember.” 

As he steps under the running water, she opens the glass door, wrapping a towel around her. “I have veggie burgers. It’s not gourmet, but it’s something.”

“You don’t have to.” Water is falling down the lines of his face, clinging to the skin of his lips and for a moment, she feels the urge to kiss him but not like usually, when it’s a hunger to be consumed. Just, like a normal kiss, one that shows you care. 

“I want to,” she counters. “Ketchup and mustard with spinach, right?”

Calum can only nod. “Yeah, but really you--” Before he can finish the sentence, she’s gone. “But you’re going too anyway.”

-H

[finnsgrin]

Jasper Jordan Preference - You’re Deaf

Jasper Jordan x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: xaspenn

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Word count: 1,452

Published on: July 26, 2020

TW: Deafness, a bit of demeaning

Spoilers: S2

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

Jasper Jordan

(In this, Jasper is just friends with Maya)

The girl with curly hair who had introduced herself as Maya sat at the shiny black grand piano, her fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. Those who were gathered around her smiled and swayed to the music that you couldn't hear.

Jasper had told you about music. He tried his best to explain the sounds, but what was he to compare it to? You'd never heard anything. All you could do was feel the vibrations and watch those around you enjoy themselves.

Once Maya had finished her tune, the audience clapped, and you joined them even though you were unable to hear what was played.

Your boyfriend of three months, Jasper Jordan, nudged your side to get your attention.

Man, I wish you could hear this. He signed.

Jasper had learned sign language before you started dating, when you were just friends up on the Ark. He wanted to get to know you, and what better way to talk with you than learning your language?

Although his comment was harmless, you still felt bitter about the whole situation.

Yeah, me too. You signed, looking away.

His face fell, and he took your hands into his.

"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean it like that. I just-."

You silenced him with a kiss.

Where words were unavailable, kissing had always been an appropriate option for the both of you. When either of you were upset, or angry, or scared, and you couldn't sign the words of comfort out fast enough, you pressed your lips together, and they said everything.

The dinner bell rang, and Jaspers head turned to where people were already beginning to plate up with food.

Jasper smiled and took your hand into his.

The people of Mount Weather had been more than generous to the people of the sky. You were sheltered, clothed, fed...

Jasper nudged your shoulder, and you looked up from your chicken pot pie.

Maya was sitting across from you, smiling patiently.

Oh, was she talking to me? You signed to Jasper.

He nodded while taking gulps of his milk.

You turned back to her.

"How do you like your dinner?" She asked a little too slowly for your liking.

You smiled, and turned to Jasper where you signed out your answer.

"She says she loves it. And, thank you for being considerate, but you don't have to speak that slowly. She's been reading lips her entire life."

Maya smiled sheepishly, and spoke again in a normal manner.

Your grew to like the girl, and spent at least twenty minutes talking to her, with Jasper being your translator.

Jasper set down his fork a little too aggressively, and turned to Monty who was on the other side of you.

"You know, sometimes I wish she could speak for herself. My hands are getting tired. Her disability isn't just an inconvenience for her." He complained.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and rage, and you stood abruptly.

I can see your lips, asshole. You signed angrily.

His face fell once he realized the severity of his words.

Babe, wait- His hands moved almost as quickly as yours.

You signed one thing that anyone could understand, and flipped him off.

You wove through the crowd of people who were enjoying their meal, and tears threatened to escape from your (Y/C/E) eyes.

"(Y/N), wait!" Jasper called, standing up to go after you.

"She can't hear you you idiot." Monty grumbled.

You ran back to the bunk room and collapsed onto your bottom bunk which was right next to Jaspers. You wondered if you could switch with someone for tonight. Being near Jasper wasn't something you wanted right now.

You sobbed into your pillow, the noise echoing throughout the room.

A hand on your shoulder startled you, and you gasped in surprise.

Jaspers expression was full of remorse, and his face fell when his brown eyes met your puffy red ones.

"Babe-." He started.

Save it. You signed, turning away from him.

He went to the other side of you, and brought his lips close to yours.

You shoved him off harshly.

A kiss isn't going to fix this, Jasper. Your eyes were full of annoyance.

He sighed, kneeling down, and you turned away once more.

His feeble attempts at trying to get your attention failed, and he eventually just ended up going back to the mess hall.

Good. You didn't want to be be around him anyway.

-

You spent hours just laying down, tears trailing into your ears. You thought of your relationship with Jasper, and began to question it.

Were you a burden to him? Did he even love you? Why would he say something like that?

The lights had been switched off long ago, but you were too upset to sleep with these unanswered questions jumping around your head.

Someone tapped you on your shoulder, and you turned to squint and make another angry sign at Jasper.

But it wasn't him. It was Monty.

He was saying something, you could tell, but the room was too dark to see his lips.

Monty offered his hand to you, and you reluctantly accepted it.

He led you out of the room and into the hallway where the fluorescent lights were blinding.

Monty kept taking you around corners and doors you didn't even know existed.

What was he doing?

You stopped him, and gave him a puzzled look.

He smiled softly.

"Just trust me." He said.

You huffed, wanting nothing more than to go back to bed and just sleep away your sadness.

Monty lead you to a door at the end of the hallway, and opened it.

You gasped at the sight.

Christmas lights twinkled from the ceiling, along with pink and white ribbons and lace. Rose petals were sprinkled across the floor, and a round table was set up with a linen tablecloth, candles alight, a vase full of red roses, and two delicious plates of what looked like decedent chocolate cake.

You turned to ask Monty what this was all about, but the boy had disappeared. In his place, was Jasper.

You rolled your eyes, ready to head back to the bunk room.

Jasper softly grabbed your wrist, and his eyes were full of regret.

(Y/N)... please wait. I want to try and make things right. He signed.

You stood there, your arms folded across your chest, waiting for the apology to continue.

Once he realized you weren't leaving, relief flooded across his face.

What I said was inconsiderate, and rude, and just... it was awful, and I'm so so sorry. I... I understand if you want to break up with me, but that would really suck, because you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. You've been there for me through everything, even when I've been an asshole. You're so kind, and smart, and beautiful, and funny, and forgiving, and I love you so much and-

You took his hands, and pressed them down to his sides. Then, you took his face in your hands, and kissed him.

His hands immediately rested on your hips, and he pulled you close to him until there was no space in between you.

It wasn't his apology, or the grand gesture of the room which you were standing in that moved you.

It was the fact that Jasper had told you he loved you for the first time.

You pulled away, tears trailing down your face.

His face fell, and this time he spoke.

"Oh... that was a goodbye kiss, wasn't it? You're breaking up with me... It's okay. I- I understand." He struggled to remain composed.

You shook your head quickly, a laugh escaping from your lips.

No, no, I'm not breaking up with you. Jasper, did... did you mean it? Your hands shook slightly as they signed.

He frowned in confusion.

"Mean what? That I'm sorry? Of course I did. I-."

No, no. That you love me.

Jasper blushed, and looked at his feet, shuffling them about.

He look up back to you.

Yeah... I did. I do. I love you, (Y/N). He signed.

I love you too, Jasper. You signed back, a single tear trailing down your cheek. But it was a happy tear. Jasper smiled gently, and used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away.

Do you wanna sit? His head nodded in the direction of where the beautiful looking cakes sat untouched on the porcelain plates.

You nodded, and took his arm where he led you over and pulled out a padded chair for you to sit on.

Once you were situated, and took a few bites of your cake, you looked up to ask him a question.

How did you even do this? You asked after setting your fork down.

He grinned widely.

Maya knows a party planner. I also taught her some basic ASL. Hello, goodbye, thank you... oh, and I taught her how to say Jasper is awesome. But she doesn't know that. She thinks it's a compliment saying she likes your hair.

You laughed loudly, closing your eyes and tiling your head back.

Jasper gazed at you, smiling.

Yes, he was in love. And he was in love with the most incredible girl in the world.

♡Masterlist♡

[whoslaurapalmer]

utena manga AND adolescence manga!!!! the longest of any of my utena posts why did i have so much to say. 

-i do have to say that the box set is amazing. i’ve never owned hardcover manga before!! and the art is really beautiful and i love all the color illustrations....... -also came with a poster!! but i, don’t particularly want naked utena and anthy on my wall. 

-i always love utena, so much  -“it’s not shocking pink, it’s rose! it’s a nice color. i picked it out, after all.” babygirl  (-omg the explanation that there is a list of stylists that she could get uniforms from and at least she picked one on the list) -poor kaido.......he’s the true Pre-Series Friend Who Shows Up In The First Episode And Is Never Heard From Again Once The Plot Kicks In 

-i like that the manga has an explanation of how utena found ohtori academy because, you do wonder -- but i also like how she’s just There in the anime, with absolutely no explanation of how she got There, she’s just There and maybe she’s always been there!, re: time, it ultimately doesn’t matter, it’s where she wound up regardless  -the.......floaty dreaminess of it......... -uggg wait especially because even though it has been akio manipulating her around all this time she still doesn’t truly go to ohtori because of akio she goes because of anthy 

-i’m. look i don’t even want to say it cause this is a straight-up terrible nickname and i am in pain over it but i have to say something  -mr -mr l  -mr  -licky -lick  -i have to wonder how other people have translated that 

-me: hey that looks like he licked the tears off her face??? utena: i named him --  the narrator living inside my brain: and at that moment lulu vandelay considered launching a book across the room for the first time in her twenty-six years of life

-you know utena if your aunt got transfered to amsterdam, you still would’ve wound up at an ohtori academy  -what even happens at the ohtori in amsterdam??????????????  -what  -do they do an exchange program?? do they ever get anyone back??? is amsterdam also creating a world?????? or are they fine over there??? -is it alt universe ohtori???? 

-chu-chu is so fluffy!!!! so soft.......big squish........huggable............ -anthy making him a tie because she felt bad about him not wearing anything!!!! 

-THE MANGA MOVES VERY FAST HONESTLY -especially because i hit a point where i too was reading as fast as possible to get through it but there was still SO MUCH 

-no nanami????? no nanami at all??????? except for that one picture of her???????  -no???????  -look. i really love nanami and i didn’t realize how much i really liked her until she wasn’t there :( cause i liked her in the first place but i miss all her antics :( and i liked where her character arc went a lot :(  -she’s very loud about this but she’s really just that tumblr post that’s like ‘i put ‘i love salsa’ in the chat and no one said anything and i wondered if salsa had killed a parent or if salsa ever really existed’ and that’s relatable  -and the second-guessing embarrassment of every single thing in your life and yet the commitment to radical high-and-mighty confidence about the same exact things to compensate??? good for her!!!! 

-utena, with the power of dios: i can see every move! me: wow didn’t know dios had the sharingan 

-INTRIGUED actually by touga having. a secret room with a big fucking calendar with zodiac symbols and all the fights predetermined  -like there’s something super interesting about that  -like...... -on one hand a physical representation of The Plot Being Controlled. The Plot Has A Map Now. on the other hand, touga has to write it all down like a nerd bc he’s not akio and has no sway himself over the narrative and he needs a reference 

-i’m absolutely fascinated by how a group of people can come together and create The Same Story that is so different in the manga and the anime.....  -just. how  -in a good way and a bad way. in the good way, how do you collaborate with people like that????? in the bad way, how do you create two completely separate thematic takes on the same story  -with so many of the same base scenes!!!! they go completely different ways!!!!! i’m!!!!!!!!!!!! 

-oh i do love the character profiles. i like knowing birthdays!! 

-akio grabbing utena because he thought she was anthy

-it fucking goes from. ‘everyone in this manga wants to fuck touga’ to ‘everyone in this manga will support utena, EVEN TOUGA?????’ like wow  -he’s just.........living with them..................................... -like a creep  -AND HE JUST GIVES UP THE STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENCY THAT’S THE FUNNIEST FUCKING THING  -doesn’t take much to get them to break the system down here but they’re still not breaking the system down here  -oh my god it’s like the sad lemon man movie speedrunning the first 3 books and hitting the plot notes with none of the substantial theme  -it’s just, i don’t think the manga is completely terrible, like i think there are some interesting moments but i also know the common perception is The Manga Is Terrible? so i’m like. do i pick out the interesting things and try and give them meaning? or do i just. wholesale agree that this is, on a whole other thematic plane and terrible  (-my whole life is ‘i should be able to make my own opinion on something!’ vs ‘but i like to read other people’s opinions to make sure i don’t miss anything but that should not replace my own capacity for critical thought which i am clearly capable of and did a great deal of work on as a lit major!!’) (oh this is anxiety.) (it’s a lot of ‘i don’t want to misinterpret this in any way because that is a failure on my part so i’m digging around for explanations’ oh that’s still anxiety.) 

-i mean. the emphasis on ‘friendship’ more than anything with anthy is, disappointing, but i DO also like utena trying to get anthy to make friends and that anthy’s first instinct is to take after wakaba because that’s super cute 

-chu-chu narrating the curry story!!  -he’s just such a sweet bean. 

-utena: akio? the devil, lucifer? me, reigning my brain back in as it shoots into hyperdrive: okay lulu you’re right about the tarot symbolism but now is not the time, bring it back, girl  (......utena’s the fool nemuro hall is the tower the car at the end of the movie is the world anthy stabbing utena is the ten of swords (not in the sense of betrayal but in the end of the cycle/story portrayed in the swords suit)) (ANYWAY) 

-and then touga still somehow stays at the center of the story and utena relies on him....... -there’s a bigger reliance on men in the manga that is not, challenged at all, re: touga and dios -but at least akio’s still a full-on creep  -actually i think he unsettled me just a smidge more which was a big accomplishment, considering the time i almost fell over furniture 

-me: oh my god are utena and anthy gonna switch places???  me: NOOOOOOO -anthy’s coffin breaking because utena puts the ring back on....... -but, like........dios is completely incapable of action as well and utena doesn’t need him to rescue anthy  -dios is more some ethereal grand thing here instead of an idealized past self that akio has lost access to and can never regain and was never truly good in the first place  -although utena and anthy switching is, interesting. reinforces akio making utena a princess when again she’s neither and it’s.......a little “in the end, girls are all like rose brides” and women are manipulated around by men, but also, kind of loses what anthy holding the swords meant in the first place? 

-touga: you have to do it, utena me: touga stop trying to steal the scene. get out. get out now 

-THE CASTLE IS REAL????????????????????????? 

-okay the absolute roller coaster between ‘he’s gonna kill dios????’ ‘that’s the manga backstory?????’ ‘DIOS IS JUST DEAD NOW????’ ‘NO HE WAS STILL DIOS THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!’  -oh but you know you could read it as a, killing your past self sort of thing -...........although that doesn’t really vibe here, does it 

-i think them being specifically ‘gods’ takes away from just the, cycle of humanity kind of thing........ -it’s so pleasantly vague in the anime because how dios came to be Dios and why anthy had to put a stop to it just doesn’t matter. it’s not what matters. it’s not what’s important. the fact that it happened at all is what matters.  -and somehow he still wasn’t dios the whole time!!!!!  -“she kept his sword in her bosom, one last token of her love!” that’s an.........interesting way to put it -i mean, yeah maybe?? but also, no?????????????????????????????? 

-anthy’s kind of, watered down a little in the manga too, in a way?  -STABBING UTENA WAS SO IMPORTANT TOO 

-noooooo where are my girls learning that it’s not about being a prince and that it’s just genuine love and being there for someone  -i mean i guess the love is here but. “i must be the prince myself” no!!!! noooooooooo  -you know what i don’t even want to THINK about akio and utena..........like that 

-AND THERE’S STILL TOUGA!!! IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ALL!!!!!!!!!! TOUGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  -anthy: /wearing utena’s uniform me: /staring into the camera like i’m on the office 

-like...............well that just continues the cycle then, doesn’t it, in a way  -which, is its own kind of story.............. -and i guess you could also make a case for ‘well no one’s immediately recovered right after a story that takes time and it’s not always perfect and that could involve anthy emulating utena’ -BUT NO!!!! NO??????? NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  -i think that’s giving the manga too much credit considering how much it forced ‘the prince’ at the end!!!!!!!!  -i get it. i get the ‘the manga is terrible.’ i see you.  -it wasn’t, completely terrible, but, wow. i get it. 

-okay hold on i still have two side stories before adolescence

-OH ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? ONCE AGAIN I HAVE TO DEAL WITH RUKA  -WAS IT NOT ENOUGH THAT I HAVE ALREADY SUFFERED  -ruka i still hate you. that’s all i have to say on that 

-and black rose arc condensed to thirty pages????  -the way mikage acts towards mamiya is like. blatantly creepy in the anime but i didn’t think it was here???? rude.  -anthy and utena holding hands after it, though....... 

-OKAY, adolescence  -i feel like, i was unduly harsh on the movie...... -mostly because i was reading the youtube comments on the dub before i watched and people were talking about how terrible the dub was (i did not watch the dub)  -and i knew about the car and i was just really thrown by the car. the cars. just. unexpected  -but if the manga speedruns in a bad way the movie speedruns in a way that not only hit the plot elements but picked up a lot of the thematic elements as well!!  -i mean every arc was touched upon in some way! even the black rose arc! -which haunts me, regularly.  -also i am forever going to be thinking about the fwwm parallel like damn  -it really was a good time....... -oh! this in particular was why i was a little concerned about missing anything in thinking about the manga   -like...is this a bad character choice in good writing, or is this a bad character choice in bad writing? sometimes i’m not always great at that 

-anyway.  -the manga was really mostly the same except somehow touga was more uncomfortable, there were no cars, and utena and touga had sex uggg  -god i SWEAR when i was flipping through last week i saw a car though. i swear???? i thought i did?????  -guess i didn’t!! 

-touga: as long as you keep me there in your heart, i can continue to exist like this. i can stay at this school for all eternity.  me: The Grief™ vs ohtori academy doing its thing vs I HATE THIS AAAAAAAAA 

-anthy, to akio: be gone! you’re only in my mind! me: oh that’s a powerful statement though. re: like, how akio keeps anthy 

-what i DID really really love was the little scene at the end with anthy and utena out of ohtori and older in a planetarium theater after everything and being cute on a date (with chu-chu!) and that that’s how it ends (even if utena was still thinking about touga) with them holding hands walking out............... -the softness!!!! 💖💖 

[an-angels-blessing]

Song Prompts #1

“Will nature make a man of me yet?”- The Smiths, This Charming Man

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?”- Lynyrd Skynyrd, Free Bird

“When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her.”- Hozier, Work Song

“I don’t think that we should be alone together, when we’re in a room you get my eyes, you open your mouth I’m hypnotised”- The Neighbourhood, Single

“She looks as if she’s blowing a kiss at me and suddenly the sky is a scissor”- Arctic Monkeys, That’s where you’re wrong

“You think you want to be alone, just wait until you’re crying on the shower floor”

“They’ve got a pretty face, but they’ve got a pretty empty head.”

“But how the hell do you fall in love, the last time I checked you can’t fall in slow mo”- LANY- The Breakup *There were too many good ones in this song, I couldn’t help myself*

“I know it’s mad, but if I go to hell will you go with me or just leave?” - Panic! At The Disco, Do you know what I’m seeing?

“I don’t know who’s protecting me, but we hit it off”- Drake, Sandra’s Rose

“Do me a favour and break my nose, do me a favour and tell me to go away?”- Arctic monkeys, Do me a favour

“Baby just came back around, said she needs time to explore, said I can’t love her no more”- The Neighbourhood, Baby came home

“Just one mistake, you say you’re not in love no more, but was it really love if you can leave me for something so innocent is this the end?”- LANY, Thick and thin

“You can have Manhattan, I know it’s for the best, I’ll gather up the avenues and leave them on your doorstep. I’ll tiptoe away so you won’t have to say you heard me leave.”

“You can have Manhattan, the one we used to share, the one where we were laughing and drunk on just being there. Hang onto the reverie, could you do that for me?”- Sara Bareilles, Manhattan

“You don’t love me, big fucking deal, I’ll never tell you how I feel.”

“I’ll send my best regards from Hell”- Marina and the Diamonds, Starring Role

“I been writing these songs ‘bout how I can’t be with you. I don’t want to be a monster, but I’ve been here for days, drinking too much now I want you, can’t get you off my brain.”- Henry, Monster, Eng. version

“Change lives, get better, yeah that be the plan”

“That’s why you see me winning, yeah, even after I lose”- Jay Park, Ask bout me

“Love is not looking over shoulders, Love is you should trust what I told you”

“Love is not struggling to say I love you”- 6LACK, Disconnect

“All these people taking miles when you give them an inch, all these followers but who’s gonna follow me until the end?”- Drake, Emotionless

“She’s in the rain, you wanna hurt yourself I’ll stay with you, you wanna make yourself go through that pain, It’s better to be held than holding on,”- The Rose, She’s In The Rain *Absolutely love this one, don’t @ me, I will die for the The Rose**

“Sex by the fire at night”- Bruno Mars, That’s What I Like

“I’ve got the good side of you, sent it out into the blue.”- Troye Sivan, Good Side

“Standing by the window, rain falling, I want to have you full in my embrace and tell you, even when I’m born again and love you, even then, will you be with me?”- KREAM, 선물 Gift *Translated*

“It all passes, Someday, For sure, Certainly”- RM, ft. NELL, everythingoes *Translated*

“Please stay as long as you need, can’t promise that things won’t be broken, but I swear that I will never leave. Please stay forever with me”- Sleeping With Sirens, Scene One- James Dean & Audrey Hepburn

“When you move, I’m put to mind of all that I wanna be, when you move

I could never define all that you are to me”- Hozier, Movement

“Wake up and smell the coffee, is your cup half full or empty?”- Billie Eilish, come out and play

“Am I a bad person? Or am I just in pain?”- DEAN, Sulli, Rad Museum, Dayfly *Translated*

“Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us, deeply poisoned by the jail of you, I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway”- BTS, Blood Sweat & Tears *Translated*

“When the sun sets and darkness comes, I only remember your warmth, where the stars wrap around us. I’m going there, I’ll be there”- SEVENTEEN, Highlight *Translated*

“I don’t ever wanna feel like anything I do ever had a fucking resonance or meant a thing to you.”- Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes, I Hate You

“You can’t take this away from me, the way I hit the melody, the waves bring clarity, running through me”- Tom Misch, Del La Soul, It Runs Through Me

“It was a lie when they smiled and said you won’t feel a thing”- My Chemical Romance, Disenchanted

“The fog has lifted and things get clear, all the lies pass by like a reel of film. I hate you”- EXO, 내가 미쳐 (Going Crazy) *Translated*

“I’m sorry- no, I’m not sorry, I’m just getting started and my life’s a party”- DEAN, Eric Bellinger, I’m Not Sorry

“Ain’t it fun, living in the real world?”- Paramore, Ain’t It Fun

“Ready or not, we are coming back- yeah, we’re over, we can tell you ‘bout what you need. You can look it up when you’re older”- Evergreen, Cargo Cult

“You, you got so much potential, every moment spent with you I bet was always eventful”- Aminé, Kehlani, Heebiejeebies- Bonus

“Could you imagine the taste of your lips if we never tried to kiss on the drive to Queens? ‘Cause I imagine the weight of your ribs if you lied between my hips in the backseat”- Halsey, Roman Holiday

“Forever isn’t for everyone, is forever for you?”- Arctic Monkeys, Snap Out Of It

“Wish you good luck being lonely, I’mma push red every time you phone me. You vow to be a memory”- Ella Mai, ft. Ty Dolla $ign, She Don’t

“I’ve been dazed and confused from the day I met you, yeah I lost my head and I’d do it again”- Ruel, Dazed & Confused

“I just want you closer, is that alright? Baby let’s get closer tonight”- Paolo Nutini, Last request

“You have no idea how pretty you are when you wake from sleep, you have no idea how beautiful you look as you get ready for bed”- Zion.T, No Makeup *Translated*

“I was thinking I could fly to your hotel tonight, baby, ‘cos I can’t get you off my mind”- Shawn Mendes, Lost In Japan

“She’s soothing like the ocean rushing on the sand, she takes care of me, baby, she helps me be a better man. She’s so beautiful, sometimes I stop to close my eyes, she’s exactly what I need”- Jeremy Passion, Lemonade

“And her lips are like the galaxy’s edge and her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place”- Arctic Monkeys, Arabella

“It’s how you look, not how you feel. A city of glass with no heart”- Queens of the Stone Age, If I Had a Tail

“I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife”- Hozier, Take Me To Church

“Bitter and hardened heart, Oh, aching- waiting for life to start”- Keane, Bend & Break

“When you move I’m put to mind of all that I wanna be, when you move I could never define all that you are to me”- Hozier, Movement

“She said, ‘Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love, 'cause what if it’s not reciprocated?’ I told her, ‘Don’t rush girl, don’t you rush, guess it’s all a game of patience.’”- Pink Sweat$, Honesty

“Share a casket with you, we’ll be buried alive, me and her playing truth ‘til the day we die.”- Granata Ft. Phoniks, You Dont Need Me

“And hope that I had survived yesterday, and today is jealous of tomorrow.”- Emeli Sandé, Breathing Underwater

“Heaven if you sent us down so we could build a playground for the sinners to play as saints, you’d be so proud of what we’ve made.” Stephen, Crossfire

“Tell me how do you cope with it? How do you sleep with yourself at night? How do you cope with it? How do you sleep with yourself at night?”- blackbear, make daddy proud

“If anyone looks perfect, you look perfect next to me.”- Nick Wilson, Obsolete

“When I meet you after time passes, I’ll know (you were my future), I’ll know (I was your yesterday). When I meet you after time passes, I’ll know (you protected me), I’ll know (I desired you).”- SEVENTEEN (Wen Junhui & Xu Minghao), My I *Translated*

“I need my sex n’ drugs, I need my money first, bless me with all my sins.”- Abhi The Nomad, Ft. Harrison Sands & Copper King, Sex ‘n Drugs

“Naked and fallin’ in love, look here I got you. Safe where there’s no one to judge, keep it insightful.”- Keiynan Lonsdale, Preach

“All alone, all we know is haunting me, making it harder to breathe, harder to breathe.”- The Neighbourhood, Leaving Tonight

“Now I see you get off of the subway, haven’t seen you in months but it’s okay. I’d forgotten but I feel the same, hate that I still wish you were…”- Claud, Wish You Were Gay

“A perfect stranger lying next to me, he’s playing God with broken figurines. He keeps calling me his little queen and I believe.”- Jake Wesley Rogers, Little Queen (This song deserves way more recognition, make sure to give it a listen!)

“Hell is so close to Heaven, hell is so close to Heaven. Hold on don’t look back, you know we’re better- we’re better than that. Lost and thrown away, you know we’re better- we’re better than that.”- Sleeping With Sirens, The Strays

“Alone tonight, I’m drawing my dreams across the sky farther than I can imagine- She wants it.”- CIX, Movie Star *Translated*

“Yeah I mixed words and some whiskey on the flight just to make sure I landed on time and I wrote me a song I could sing just in case I forgot everything.”- Marc E. Bassy, Last One I Love

“Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know, learned my lesson way too long ago.”

“Deadly fever, please don’t ever break, be my reliever 'cause I don’t self medicate”- Billie Eilish, my strange addiction

“And it’s worth it, it’s divine, I have this some of the time.”- Hozier, Cherry Wine

“And I realize you’re mine, Indeed, a fool am I.”- Queens of the Stone Age, No One Knows

“Look in the mirror ‘til I forget everything I know, everything I did was just a way to make the time feel faster.”- Miya Folick, Stock Image

“Do you feel how I feel? Are you numb? Do you tread crystal waters, bound to be stung? Are you scared? If I see you, we’re upon,

will you dye your hair dark so you’re no longer blonde?”- Isaac Dunbar, Cologne

“Tell me; To you I’m bad & hurtful. Because I’ve been busy, you’re hurting. Bad, bad, bad, I’m bad, bad.”- Crush, NAPPA (나빠) *Translated*

“Just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: A. Indifference or B. disinterest to what the critics say.”- Panic! At The Disco, London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines

“‘Cause you don’t say what you feel, I’m the one driving but you take the wheel. You wanna wait, 'til we’re older, I’m the one who started this, but now I just want closure.”- Ieuan, Closure

“Our names carved in the pavement, sealed by what’s left of our handprints, now. I told my mom, she’d love to meet you, but it’s too bad she won’t get the chance to.”- COIN, Malibu 1992

“I’m running outta time to hold you close, running outta time to be your man. I’m just lost in this moment, I’ve been zoning.”- blackbear, 4u

“Standing on your mama’s porch, you told me that you’d wait forever. Oh and when you held my hand, I knew that it was now or never”- Bryan Adams, Summer Of ‘69

“I’ll go out, grow my hair too long, sing your least favourite songs at the top of my lungs. I’ll go out, kiss all of your friends, make a story and pretend it was me who made this end.”- The Vamps, Hair Too Long

“Getting my mind right, I’ll wait 'til the time’s right. I’m meaning to tell you why it’s hard to sleep at night. There’s nothing to fear now, girl, we should be here now. So why don’t you hear me out?”- Jeremy Zucker, Ft. blackbear, talk is overrated

“We haven’t spoke since you went away, comfortable silence is so overrated. Why won’t you ever be the first one to break? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.”- Harry Styles, From the Dining Table

“Look overhead at the stars and the ocean, foggy emotions, moments, erosion. This supernova could cause a commotion, my minds of the notion, you’ll still be my motive”- Ansel Elgort, Supernova

“I love that new dress you bought, yeah, you sure look nice. Heard you liked that new restaurant, you know, I’ve been there twice. And the way that you switch up your hair, all of the moments we’ve shared, strolling the streets back in Rome, oh, how I wish I was there. It ain’t fair.”- Ruel, Face To Face

“Welcome to your life, there’s no turning back. Even while we sleep we will find you acting on your best behaviour, turn your back on mother nature.”- Tear For Fears, Everybody Wants to Rule the World

“I’m wide awake, not losing any sleep, I picked up every piece and landed on my feet. I’m wide awake, need nothing to complete myself, no.” Katy Perry, Wide Awake

“If you don’t realize, all of the things your life can do you will be left behind, swept up by the storm of those you knew.”- Meltycanon, thankful

“I always knew that we’d be by each other’s side forever, now our time has come and I’d be satisfied if we died together. Yeah, our climate’s fucked, we might as well enjoy the weather, our time is up and I’d be satisfied if we died together.”- Samsa, Anthropocene

“There’s still so much to say, I’m faded, broken, pretending you’re on the line, wasting my time. Sinking deeper, watching you spend your night,

like I’ll be fine and I’ll be over this.”- NYK, Faded

“I’d rather go to hell, than be in purgatory, cut my hair, gag and bore me, pull this pin, let this world explode.”- My Chemical Romance, Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)

“I reached for a shooting star, it burned a hole through my hand

Made its way through my heart, had fun in the promised land.”- blink-182, Wishing Well

“Let go of your baggage, but don’t think I don’t understand it’s probably a challenge,”- Isaac Lewis, Fly

“It’s been a long night in New York city, it’s been a long night in Baton Rouge. I don’t remember you looking any better, but then again, I don’t remember you.”- John Mayer, Who Says

Prompts 101-119