#you feel like a broken record after awhile i swear lol.

[castformation]

Sinistea Fun Facts! (Part Two)

Newborn sinistea, of course, lack teacups of their own. Though they, much like their parents, exhibit a strong preference for a specific type of ceramic glassware, they highly dislike being without physical protection, and are thus much less picky about the glassware they choose.

Some breeders create custom containers with unique shapes and designs for juveniles to claim; while sinistea with atypical containers are all the rage among younger trainers, more traditional breeders tend to see these practices as not only tacky and unappealing, but potentially detrimental to the comfort of the sinistea in question. The jury's still out on whether their concerns are justified, though multiple studies are currently being conducted on the matter.

Sinistea have a very bitter and unpleasant taste (much to their chagrin, given their predilection for absorbing psychic energy by being consumed), but polteageist are said to be surprisingly delicious, despite causing debilitating side effects when consumed in large amounts; many have attempted to replicate their distinctive taste and fragrance, to little avail.

While sinistea and polteageists are psiotrophs, meaning they feed on psychic energy rather than conventional food, they are known to enjoy milk and sugar in small amounts.

[bobbyonboard]

You and I [John Deacon x Reader]

Summary: Based off of some anons @deacytits was getting in regards to different articles of clothing you wanted the boys to be wearing/you wanted to wear while they fucked you, this just wouldn’t leave my brain until I word vomited it all out. John Deacon. Montreal. Leather jacket.

Warnings: swearing, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, it’s lots of build up and then just smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

Author’s Note: Okay, this is my first jump back into writing in a long time. Please be kind, I’m a very sensitive person LOL.

Montreal, 1981

The crowd was deafening before the music had barely started. You were standing just hidden enough behind a black curtain on stage right, arms crossed and a hand on your chest, almost trying to get your own breathing under control. Just two more, you thought to yourself. Tonight and the next night and then ‘The Game Tour’ would be over.

It wasn’t that the tour had been unpleasant; on the contrary, it had been amazing. Each city, each crowd, louder, bigger, and hungrier than the last. Being able to top it all off with a recorded performance? The icing on the cake.

Well, it should have been. But the director had been a bit of a prat, none of the boys agreed with his camera angles, his odd way of shooting. His incessant hounding of them for the project probably didn’t put the best spin on things either, but it would be good in the long run. That’s what Miami kept telling them, anyway.

The introduction was getting louder, the crowd wilder, and the lights above the stage were beginning to slowly open up, flashing every once in awhile and making the fans scream each time. With each glimpse of light, you looked over to see the faces of the boys you’d known for ten years, bathed in hues of reds, greens, blues, and yellows.

Brian was on the opposite side of the stage, and you could barely make out his face in the dark, only able to see his curls whenever the lights came back up. You glanced to your immediate left, seeing Roger start to head towards the back of the stage in a moment of darkness, shaking his hands out to relieve a mixture of nerves and excitement. Freddie was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, clapping his hands above his head and twisting at his hips, reminiscent of a fighter preparing for a match.

It was almost as if your eyes had instinctively saved the best for last. You looked slightly to Freddie’s left to see your husband of six years, John, nervously nodding his head to a beat that was playing in his own head, his bass held tightly in his hands. He didn’t spare a glance over at you and you weren’t the least bit offended. After ten years of doing this, they all had their own quirks and things they did before a performance, and you certainly weren’t going to get in the way of that. You just watched from your spot in the corner, your own nervous energy starting to bubble up into your chest.

You knew the introduction well enough now, that after a certain ‘clap of thunder’, you watched as John began to make his way onto the stage first, Roger climbing up behind his drum kit, and a guitar ringing through the monitors signaled that Brian had just come on stage as well. After a few opening notes, Freddie ran out behind them, and you let out a breath that you’d been holding ever since the lights had begun to flash. It was finally underway.

You were able to settle in comfortably in your viewing spot, your foot tapping to the faster-paced “We Will Rock You”, your fingers digging into your bare arms. It was absolutely freezing in Montreal, the highest it managed to get that day was a balmy thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit, so by this point in the evening, it was dipping dangerously close to the teens. But you knew how hot it got in every place they played, thousands upon thousands of bodies packed into an arena would make anyone’s body temperature skyrocket. So you opted for jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, knowing you’d prefer not to have to keep up with a jacket all night long. Besides, the only time you’d be outside would be the short, brisk walk from the venue to the limo that would wait for you and John outside.

When your mind drifted to your husband, you snapped out of the slight daze you were in so you could look around the stage for him. A small smile crept across your lips as you watched him dance across the stage during a particularly jamming section of “Let Me Entertain You”, and it was only then under the bright lights of the stage did you really get a good look at him.

He was wearing a monochromatic blue outfit, matching shades for his tight pants and shirt. The colors were only broken up by the bright white sneakers he wore, and a black leather jacket. Your shifted your weight slightly as you let your eyes rake over his entire body, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. God, he looked good. Really good. Especially good. Jesus, when did he get so…

You shook your head slightly as if the act would physically remove the thoughts from your brain. Of course John had always been sexy, it’s one of the things that drew you to him so many years ago. You’d seen him go through so many stages of style, hair, and clothes, but you had to admit, he seemed older, somehow. More mature. More sure of himself. Watching him strut around the stage, popping his leg in the air as he spun around, and before you even knew what was happening, your thighs were clenching together of their own accord.

Somewhere between “Play the Game” and “Somebody to Love” the leather jacket had been removed, much to your disappointment, but watching John’s muscles flex as he worked a particularly fast bass line, or the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest certainly wasn’t anything to complain about. However, your mind still drifted back to the image of him in that leather jacket every once in awhile.

Whenever there was a break or a particularly long guitar solo, you stayed tucked away in your corner of the wings. You knew they were all in a particular headspace for the duration of the show, so you just watched from afar as John paced around, sipping on whatever drink was in his hand before heading back out on stage.

Your heart felt a sudden tug, wishing you’d had more time with him before the show. You’d had to fly in separately, and had only made it about two hours before showtime. Just enough time to have a cuddle with your husband, laugh and talk with the group and the crew, and grab a bite to eat before they were being whisked away to get dressed and get ready. But you knew you’d have plenty of time later, and the thought calmed you for now.

When “Another One Bites the Dust” began to blast through the speakers, you smirked a little to yourself, hips popping from side to side just slightly. The song had been released just over a year ago, and you thought about how successful it was, how it really shot Queen to the top over in America, and how it had done absolute wonders for John’s confidence. It was the boost he needed, the extra push to really make him more vocal in rehearsals, to press for his songs to be included just like the others. You were beyond proud of him, your chest swelling as you watched him hop and bounce along the stage.

You still had chills every time you heard “We Are the Champions”, watching as the crowd sang along, the entire building coming together for those moments, and by the end of the song, when the boys were taking their final bows to Brian’s rendition of “God Save the Queen”, you’d practically forgotten about the leather jacket and all the sinful, dirty things you’d wanted to do to your husband.

You quickly moved over so you were waiting for them as soon as they got off the stage, feeling a little bad that there wasn’t anyone else there, family-wise. Chrissy and Dominique were both back in London, unable to make it for this leg of the tour, so you tried to make sure your smile was extra enthusiastic when they filtered by you.

“Wonderful, as always, boys!,” you grinned, pecking Roger’s cheek as he walked by, chuckling as his own smile was growing by the second on his face.

“It was, wasn’t it?,” he smirked, voice dripping with a smugness that made you want to roll your eyes, if it wasn’t for the tinge of pride that coated his words.

“If the fucking cameras weren’t so distracting,” Brian huffed, walking behind him, and you gently patted his shoulder.

“It’s going to be great, don’t worry about it. You were great,” you added with a small smile, and he gave you one in return, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank fuck that’s over!,” you heard Freddie shout, his voice scratchy and breaking on the last syllable. “Y/N, it’s wonderful to see you as always, darling,” he told you, leaning down to brush his lips against your cheek before running off, leaving you there just shaking your head, unable to even get out your words of praise for the frontman.

“Nothing for me?” a soft voice said from beside you, and you turned with a grin, arms immediately opening for John.

“You were perfect. You’re always perfect,” you hummed, draping your arms on his shoulders, leaning up for a soft, warm kiss. Your hands drifted up to his hair, giving his relatively newly grown curls a soft squeeze.

As the two of you pulled away from each other, John’s hands moved from your waist up to your arms, rubbing them lightly. “You’re going to freeze to death outside,” he warned, fingertips tracing down from your elbow to your fingertips, lacing your fingers together as you started the fast-paced walk towards the back of the venue.

You just shrugged, not able to imagine being cold at this moment, beads of sweat at the base of your hairline from the heat backstage, and from your earlier impure thoughts. The same thoughts that were creeping back now that John’s calloused fingers were brushing against your knuckles, practically able to feel the warmth radiating from him.

As everyone began rushing around backstage, a few people coming up to each member of the band and making sure they had a drink, a cigarette, or whatever else they desired, you thought back to the early days. How the four of them would all go back to a shared room and get changed into their regular clothes together, girlfriends and wives laying on couches, roadies laughing and tossing things to each other to pack up. Sometimes they would go out and party, or even just get some dinner together. These days, they just each got in their own limousine and took off towards whatever evening entertainment they wished.

The further you got from the stage, the more your skin began to prickle with goosebumps, and God, where was that cold air coming from? You looked ahead to see the back doors had been propped wide open, with trucks backed up to the entry way for easy access to load up all the equipment.

“Don’t.” you warned, not even having to look at your husband to know he was giving you that glare, the one he saved for when he knew he had been right about something.

“I didn’t say anything!” he held his free hand up in surrender, but you looked over to see a small smirk on his lips, and you rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might roll out the open doors.

It was just a moment later as everyone lined up to start the mad dash to the limos waiting outside when John turned to look over his shoulder. “Ratty!” he called out, his roadie looking up from a conversation with another crew member.

“Yeah, Deaks?,” he responded, exhaling a mouthful of smoke and giving you a smile and a wave. “Hey, Y/N!”.

“Have you got my jacket?” John asked, and Ratty nodded his head, stepping back into the dressing room around the corner and returning with the  aforementioned item. “Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from the roadie’s hands and holding it open.

“Arms in,” he told you, and it felt almost like a parent dressing a toddler.

“But now who’s the one that’s going to freeze?!,” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest and narrowing your eyes slightly. “You’re the one who needs to wear it, I’ll be fine for a quick walk to the car,” you attempted to assure him, but your body betrayed you, a shiver running up your spine and down into your fingertips and toes as your finished your sentence.

John just rolled his eyes, popping his hip to the side which proved he was settling in, not planning on moving until you did what he suggested. “I’ve been sweating for two hours, I think it’ll be alright,” he told you, raising an eyebrow as he held the jacket out towards you.

You muttered under your breath something about a stubborn bastard, ignoring the way his lips turned up slightly when you began to put your arms through the black leather, wrapping it around your middle.

“Looks nice,” he commented, draping an arm around your shoulders and dropping a kiss to your temple before leading you towards the back entrance.

You nuzzled into his side, head tucked comfortably under his chin as you walked, your arm wrapped around his waist, sneaking your thumb under the the hem of his t-shirt to rub lightly at his warm skin, causing him to jump slightly.

“Colds hands!,” he whined, pinching your arm playfully, although you could barely feel it through the leather. “And to think, I was willing to freeze to death for you,” he sighed dramatically, but he let out a huff of air when a bodyguard opened the doors in front of you, a cold wind smacking the two of you in the face.

You clutched tighter to your husband, face turned to try and block out some of the cold, and almost running to your waiting limousine. You practically jumped inside, curling up with John and immediately sticking your hands in front of the vents, feeling the heat blasting out in the already warm car. “”Fuck, it feels good in here,” you moaned, rubbing your hands together.

“Bloody freezing,” John was muttering to himself as the door shut behind him, and the driver started towards the hotel, ready to make a change if requested.

You flopped back against John, head laying on his chest as you closed your eyes, enjoying the heat. It was quiet for a few minutes, you knew John had to be tired. Between their non-stop few days and your long flight from earlier, the different time zones were neither of your friend.

“Sleepy?,” you heard him ask you, brushing your hair out of your face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you made a noncommittal noise.

“A little. We can go somewhere, if you want,” you told him, noticing the driver’s ears perk up slightly, ready to turn somewhere else and adjust his route if need be.

“No, we’ll go out tomorrow, I’m sure. Last night of the tour and all. Besides, you’ve had quite the day, haven’t you?,” he smiled, fingers tracing along your chin and jawline.

“Hasn’t been so bad,” you smiled up at him, stretching out slightly, your shirt riding up to show a sliver of skin on your middle before you relaxed once more against his chest. “Bet you’re hungry, though. We can order room service,” you offered, playing with his fingers and noticing they were slightly swollen, so you just began to massage them gently.

John hummed slightly at the feeling, his own eyes fluttering closed for a few moments as your worked his knuckles and fingers. “Food sounds good. Especially if I can eat it laying down,” he chuckled softly, looking out the window and bracing himself for the cold. “Up, up, we’re here, love,” he told you, holding his hands in front of the vents for a few moments to prepare them for even a few seconds of cold.

You sighed as you sat up, tugging John’s jacket tighter to your chest and taking a deep breath before your driver got out and opened the door. The two of you practically ran inside, pleased that you had seemed to beat the crowd of press that usually camped outside of whatever hotel the band stayed at.

The two of you immediately slowed down the second you were inside, thankful for the heat as you reached out and pressed the ‘up’ button for the elevator, leaned against John’s side the entire time. You shuffled in once the doors opened, yawning slightly once they closed and the elevator began it’s ascension. Someone from the crew had taken your luggage to the hotel earlier, and you were never more thankful than in that moment, able to just follow John to the hotel suite and not have to do anything. “What sounds good?,” you asked, looking around at the large room and smiling a little to yourself. Ten years later, and you’d never get used to the lavish rooms and gifts.

“I’d kill for a pizza,” he called over his shoulder, going to kick off his shoes and groaning when his feet stretched out, heading into the bathroom to find some ibuprofen and fill a glass with water.

“Pizza it is then!,” you announced, snatching the menu off of the table and giving it a quick glance. You saw where the restaurant had an entire section for pizza, so you picked up the phone, placing your order of a pizza, two bottles of wine, and a slice of cheesecake before you hung up.

John had flopped down on the couch in the suite’s living room, stretched out completely as he lazily watched whatever was on TV, and you shuffled over slowly, standing in front of him. “Hi,” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Hi,” you responded in kind, putting one knee by his hips, throwing your leg over him so you were straddling his lap, flopping down so your entire weight was on his body, causing him to let out a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden addition. “You’re comfy,” you hummed, closing your eyes and trying not to slip into too relaxed of a state.

“Wish I could say the same for you,” he teased, yelping when reached down to pinch his side. “Kidding, kidding!,” he giggled, and you just stuck your tongue out, nuzzling your face into his neck, the two of you lazily watching ‘Singing in the Rain’ as it played as the late evening movie.

You had just finally gotten completely comfortable, John’s hand rubbing slowly at the small of your back when you heard a knock at the door.

“C’mon, food,” John mumbled, giving your rear a gentle pat, giggling softly when you made an indignant noise before getting up. You walked over to the door, but managed to put on a smile for the man who pushed in the tray, putting the plates of food on the table, and pouring two glasses of wine before bidding you two a nice evening, leaving almost as quickly as he came.

“God, I’m starving,” you groaned, settling into one of the chairs at the table, putting a few slices of pizza on your plate and taking a sip of your wine, humming at the taste.

You and John ate mostly in a comfortable silence, more focused on alleviating your hunger than anything else. You talked a bit about what he’d missed by coming out for the end of this tour early, how things were going, what the plans were in terms of a new album. He wanted more of a disco sound, and you tried to hide your laugh with a large bite of pizza thinking about how Brian was going to react to that.

Most of the pizza, all of the cheesecake, and a bottle of wine was polished off before you popped open the second bottle, pouring you both another glass before you moved from your seat back into your seat from earlier--your husband’s lap.

“Mmm, hi,” you smiled, taking a sip of your wine before putting the glass on the table behind you, your arms wrapping loosely around John’s shoulders.

“Hi,” he grinned back, much like your earlier conversation, placing his own glass on the table before letting his hands move to your hips. “You know, I quite like this jacket on you,” he commented, giving the bottom of it a little tug.

You stretched your back slightly, turning and making a semi-seductive pose that had you both dissolving into a fit of giggles after a few moments. “I quite like this jacket on you,” you responded, pushing your finger into his chest for an added effect. “You looked so good tonight, John,” you whispered, fingertips gently tracing along his jawline, your foreheads pressed together as you moved a bit closer.

“Yeah?,” he asked huskily, voice thick with arousal, but there was a slight tinge in his voice that sounded secretly pleased, almost relieved, that you thought so. Married six years, but there was always that nagging voice in the back of his head that you’d find someone better. Especially when he was compared to people like Roger and Brian every day.

“God, John,” you whimpered, and Christ, you could already feel how hard he was underneath of you, and you gave a tentative roll of your hips, relishing in the soft noise he made in response. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. These pants,” your purred, your lips barely an inch or two from his, and your hands had moved now to rub lightly at his hips. “This shirt,” you added, hands sliding up to his sides, fingernails gently raking across the soft material. “And this,” you grinned wickedly as your hands went to tug at the edge of the leather jacket you were still wearing. “Took my breath away, baby,” you whispered, and God, you hoped if you somehow got to Heaven, it was just a constant loop of the soft whimper that John just let slip past his lips.

“Missed you,” was all he managed to get out, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, his arms tightening around your waist, pushing you flush against him, and now it was your turn to let out a sinful mewl, your fingers moving up to tangle in those beautiful curls.

“I missed you mo--oh!,” you gasped as John suddenly stood up, keeping you held tightly in his arms. You were giggling now, biting lightly at your bottom lip as he carried you wordlessly to the bedroom, and you felt your heart ache a little at how one side of the bed was still carefully made, thinking about him sleeping alone for the past few days.

John sat on the edge of the bed, keeping you in his lap as he swung his legs up, leaning against the headboard and giving your hips a light squeeze. “What were you saying, Y/N?,” he asked with a grin, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling brightly if you tried.

“That I missed you. I really, really missed you,” you hummed, hooking your fingers under the hem of his blue t-shirt, tugging it over his head immediately. God, you’d never get tired of this sight, the way he looked up at you like he’d just won the lottery, a mixture of elation and pure love.

“Show me?,” he whispered, licking his lips as he studied your features, his hands moving around to your ass as he squeezed gently, pushing you down against his thighs.

You reached between the two of you and unbuttoned his pants slowly, your fingers gently tugging his zipper down, never once breaking eye contact. You just slid your hand down his chest, tugging the extra material out of the way before your fingers wrapped slowly around his cock, eyes lighting up when John’s head fell back and a low moan rumbled in his chest.

“So hard for me, baby,” you purred, stroking him slowly, surely. Your thumb brushed lightly across the weeping head of his cock, rubbing the bit of precome across his flushed skin.

“Fuck, Y/N--,” he choked out, and you knew he’d had this pent up for awhile, He was always a little clingy if you’d been apart for too long, even a few days could make him a needy, wanting mess.

“Shhhh, baby. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you, hm?,” you cooed, stroking him a bit more before pulling away, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth when he whined at the loss of contact. “You were so amazing tonight. God, so fucking perfect,” you whispered, moving so you were standing beside the bed. You leaned over, slowly pulling his pants down his legs, tossing them, along with his underwear, over into the corner, leaving him naked before you.

Taking a step back, you gave him a seductive grin, gently removing his leather jacket and placing it on the bed. Your fingers danced across your own skin, hooking under the edge of your shirt and tugging it over your head, your black, lacy looking marvellous against your skin. You popped the button of your jeans carefully, giving your hips a slight wiggle as you pushed them down your legs, and you could practically feel John’s eyes boring a hole into your body with the intensity of his stare. You reached behind you, gently unhooking your bra and letting it immediately fall to the floor, in no real mood to tease John any longer, especially with the way he’d started to stroke himself, hips rolling up as he fucked his fist, mouth hanging open slightly.

You practically shoved your panties onto the floor, about to crawl back on the bed when the leather jacket caught your eye. You picked it up with a mischievous grin, putting it back on your naked body, and feeling your wetness grow between your legs as John moaned your name.

“Lay down for me, my love,” you whispered, letting John move so he was laid down completely, his head resting on the pillows, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach. You didn’t think you’d seen anything so wonderful in your life.

Carefully placing your knees on either side of John’s, you took him once more into your hand, stroking him as you looked up through your lashes, smirking a little to yourself when he let out a small huff of frustration.

“Are you just going to sit there looking like that all night?,” he asked, and no matter how hard he tried, his words could never really sound annoyed at you. It made your heartbeat quicken, and you leaned down a bit more.

“No, I have other plans,” you hummed, your legs tucked up under you as you leaned forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

“”Fuck!,” John cried out, immediately thrusting into your mouth, his hand moving to tangle in your hair and give it a gentle tug. “Christ, Y/N,” he was panting now, already a mess above you and you only had half of his dick in your mouth.

His actions were enough to spur you on, your free hand rubbing lightly at the inside of his thigh while you took his length deeper, relaxing your throat until you felt the head of his cock slip inside, causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes.

John was now a whimpering, moaning mess above you, trying his absolute best to keep his hips still, letting you do your work. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to your hot, wet mouth, the way it accepted almost every inch of his cock perfectly.

Your headed bobbed up and down slowly, humming softly around his dick as you took in the sight above you, admiring the way he was looking at you like you were God’s gift specifically for him.

You snuck a hand down between your thighs, spreading your legs enough so John got a real show, a finger dipping between your wet folds and plunging into your heat, allowing you to moan sinfully, the vibrations going straight to John’s cock. You didn’t dare touch your clit just yet, you wanted to wait until you were nice and full.

Pulling off of your husband’s dick with a soft ‘pop’, you grinned up at him wickedly, licking your lips. Your smile turned more loving and less cheeky when you felt his hand go from your hair to your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye for a quick moment before he extended both arms to help you maneuver back to his lap.

“You’re perfect, you know that?,” he whispered, hands moving to your hips, and you began to rock down against him, the juices from your now throbbing pussy spreading along his cock.

You blushed slightly at his words, your skin beginning to heat up as you moved a little faster. “John, I need you,” you whispered, lifting yourself to your knees and reaching between your legs. Without so much as a warning, you pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, and sank down on him slowly.

“Shit--,” he gasped, his grip tightening on your hips, rocking his hips up to get as deep inside of you as he possibly could. “So tight for me, baby. So wet,” he moaned, looking up at you through his lashes, absolutely lost in how breathtaking you looked.

The moans and mewls you were letting out couldn’t be stopped, feeling John so deep inside of you. You reached down to put a hand on his chest for balance, and after a few moments of just enjoying your husband inside of your tight heat, you began to roll your hips, a string of curses and his name leaving your lips as you felt him hit all of the right places.

It was lazy, it was loving, and God, it was amazing. Small little movements that drove the two of you wild, one of John’s hands moving up to let his thumb brush lightly against the underside of your breast before moving a bit higher, his hand under the cool leather of the jacket to feel the heat of your skin.

“I love you,” he groaned softly, his curls beginning to stick to his forehead from the thin layer of sweat that was now covering his body.

“I love you, too,” you moaned, head thrown back in sheer ecstasy as your hips moved to a slightly different angle, causing John to go even deeper inside of you, the head of his cock pressed right up against your sweet spot.

The noise you let out with pornographic, almost doubling over in pleasure as you leaned forward, and for the first time that evening, your lips met. The kiss was desperate, loving, and hot; everything the two of you needed in that moment. John managed to sit up, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and move more to your knees, bouncing sinfully on his cock.

“So beautiful, baby. Absolutely perfect,” he whispered, your foreheads pressed together as you pressed soft, quick kisses to each other’s lips. The leather was sticky between the two of you, but John didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so close to Heaven in his life.

One hand slid up into John’s hair, pulling him closer for another round of messy, passionate kisses, and your husband seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. He reached down with his free hand and began to rub your clit with his middle finger and thumb, just the way he knew you liked it.

“John!,” you gasped, clenching around his cock inside of you as you felt yourself get closer, your fingers grabbing almost painfully at his curls as you kept him close.

The proximity of his face to your chest made it easy for him to push his jacket open a bit more, quickly letting his lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking, licking, and biting at the hard bud until he was satisfied. Only once you were writhing in his lap did he turn to it’s twin, and he could practically feel the way your body was trying to keep itself upright from the overstimulation it was receiving.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?,” he whispered against your breast, voice low and heavy with passion. “Gonna come on my cock?”.

Those words were going straight to your soaked cunt, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer with each roll of your hips, John’s cock going deeper and deeper. You nodded, unable to even form a coherent sentence at this point.

John knew you were close, his own orgasm was within reach. He quickened his pace, moving his face up so he could nip at your bottom lip as he began to lift his hips against yours, wanting to be as deeply inside of you as possible.

“Come for me, Y/N.”

That was all you needed. You let out a sharp cry as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your pussy spasming around John’s hard cock inside of you, causing you to whimper his name with each wave of pleasure.

A handful of thrusts later had John spilling his load into you with a groan, biting lightly at your bottom lip as he gripped your hips tightly, keeping you on top of him as he filled your dripping wet pussy with his come.

The two of you sat there in silence for a few moments, the only sounds your heavy breathing and the soft mewls you let out whenever he would shift inside of you. Once you two had managed to get your breathing under control, you moved off of your husband and tossed the jacket on the ground before laying down, your head resting on his chest.

“Don’t get too comfy, let me clean you up,” he yawned, leaning down to kiss your forehead before he got up, going to get a washcloth, rinsing it with warm water before he came back to wipe you down, unable to keep the smirk from his face when you whimpered a little, still sensitive.

“Don’t look smug,” you teased, but you yawned in the middle, taking out a bit of the sting of your words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he chuckled, crawling back into bed and covering you both with the duvet, pulling you up against him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he sighed, and you smiled a little against the warmth of his neck.

“Me too,” you whispered, closing your eyes and finally allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

[fratboyvivimatthews]

why won’t you love me - mitch marner 

summary: in high school it all seemed so easy, so carefree. they loved one another and that was that. but the nhl gave them a slap across the face. that slap was reality, and it was time for a heartbreaking change. one that mitch blamed completely on himself. 

warnings: HEARTBREAK, angst, swearing, tears, mitch marner tears

word count: [1,463] 

a/n: lol so 5SOS new album Youngblood has been on constant repeat since it came out on Friday, and I really wanted to write something for one of the songs. go give the song, and or whole album a listen because man does it fucking rock. also i’m sorry in advance for making mitch cry, he doesn’t deserve that. p.s f/n means friend’s name 

“I’m only gone two days this time,” I reminded hoping to get a smile out of Y/n, but what I got was silence. Sighing I set my bag down before walking over to the bed were she was seated. “You know Y/n/n I miss you just as much as you miss me on roadies.” Her head nodded and her blank e/c eyes met mine. 

She stayed silent as I wrapped an arm around her. My lips brushed over her temple before she pulled away from me. “You better go,” she mumbled standing from the bed. “Auston’s gonna be pissed if you’re late to pick him up.” Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as I stared up at her. 

My head nodded quickly before I followed her actions. I grabbed my bag once more and started to leave the bedroom. “You’ll watch the games won’t you?” Y/n’s head barely nodded as she whispered yes like it was a sin coming from her lips. Cracking a fake smile I tried to act like I didn’t know what was happening. “Well I better get going. I love you Y/n/n, and I’ll call you as soon as we land.” 

It was her turn to give me a fake smile, “I’ll be waiting.” I stayed frozen in my place praying to god that I would hear her say those three words that would stitch together my broken heart. But after three seconds of waiting and my blue eyes staring into her empty e/c I forced myself to leave. 

The ride to Auston’s place was stuffy and uncomfortable, but the one to the airport was even worse. He was rambling on and on about some girl that he had hooked up with last night, but the only thing I could focus on was Y/n and how broken she had looked. How lonely she looked. 

Then while sliding up to turn airplane mood on for the fifth time this month it hit me. I was leaving her constantly, and I was the only causing her this pain when I swore to her that she didn’t have to worry about me hurting her. I stared down at her smiling picture on my phone wishing that she could hear me as I thought don’t worry you won’t be lonely. God please hear me Y/n. 

Resting my face up against the window I watch as the ground quickly disappears, and tears start to cloud my eyes. “Please still love me.” 

It’s two a.m and after a couple drinks thanks to beating Vegas she’s all I can think about. Matts and Willy are talking up a storm about some girl at the bar but I couldn’t help but reach for my phone and disappear from the table. The fresh air out the bar is comforting and just sends me further into a spiral. Thumbing through my contacts I find her name. 

I bit my lip waiting to hear her pick up, she always picks up for me no matter what. That’s all the hope I had left in my cracked heart. “Come on Y/n/n please pick up the damn phone for fucks sake.” 

“Hey you reached Y/n! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now I’m-”

“-Probably to busy watching me play. She’ll call you back once she gets the chance, thanks bye!” 

Groaning in annoyance I ended the call. Normally that voicemail would bring a smile to my face, but now it just made me frown. Without a second thought I tried again only to get the same results. “Fucking hell,” I muttered still not taking the hint that she was obviously ignoring the calls, or that she might be sleeping like a normal person.

But my drunk brain couldn’t process that it was two o’clock in the fucking morning and Y/n was probably sleeping. Flustered and starting to feel alone in unfamiliar city I made my way to the hotel wanting to crash before Auston got back to the room. He didn’t need to know about how my three year relationship was going to shit because of me. He also didn’t need to know that I lied when I told him I had talked to Y/n earlier. That I didn’t tell her the goal I scored was for her like I did every other time. 

So when I woke up in the morning with Auston’s brown eyes watching me I scrolled through my notifications looking to see if she ever answered. Sighing I opened my phone and called her. Licking my lips nervously I was prepared to hear the familiar voicemail only this time it wasn’t.

“Hello?” Her voice seemed so distant and far away from me. 

“Hey Y/n/n, what’s up?” I asked watching as Auston disappeared from the room with his go bag in hand. Y/n sighed over on the other side of the line and I could hear as she sniffed. “You didn’t answer my calls last night, or this morning.” 

While I waited for her explanation I grabbed my stuff and threw it into the bag. “I didn’t hear them.” I could hear her lying to me. “Look Mitch I’m already late, can you text me if you need something or whatever?” 

My hand ran through my hair, it was obvious that she was distancing herself from me now. “Uh, yeah I can. But hey I love you Y/n, okay? And I’ll call you before warm-ups tonight.” This time I didn’t even get an answer. Making it was harder to hold back the tears then it was on the plane. 

Why won’t you love me anymore Y/n?

When I walked into our shared apartment on Saturday Y/n was sitting at the island her eyes glued to something she was holding in her hands. Setting my bags down I walked over to her. “F/n got engaged,” Y/n whispered unable to meet my gaze. 

My jaw dropped partly remembering the girl who was always glued to Y/n’s hip if she wasn’t with me. “Really?” Her head nodded causing her h/c to fall loose out of her messy bun. “I didn’t realize her and her boyfriend were that serious.” 

“More serious than us,” Y/n mumbled under her breathe. Furrowing my eyebrows together I waited for her to look up at me. Once she did I saw how her e/c eyes were full to the brim of tears. “I can’t wait anymore Mitch,” she then added making sure my blue eyes held her gaze and saw the pain I caused. 

“What do you mean Y/n/n?” I asked not quiet knowing what she meant. Her arms wrapped tightly around her torso like she was trying to protect herself from me. “Talk to me please Y/n/n.” 

She shook her head, “Don’t call me that.” My breathing stopped as I waited for her to continue with her thoughts. “I-I need - need to make a change Mitchell. It’s just so hard to be lonely.” I could feel the tears fill my eyes at her words. Her head leaned down against the countertop unable to hold my gaze anymore. 

Slowly I sat down next on the barstool next to her, and honestly I was waiting for her to tell me to move. But she didn’t, and we sat their in silence for what seemed like hours. Hers silent sobs could be heard every once in awhile, and all I wanted to do was hold her close to me and tell her that I loved her. But that doesn’t work anymore. The realization caused my own tears to fall. 

God someone please help us. Someone fucking please help us.

“I know that you go to sleep wishing you’d wake up next to me, even when I’m thousands of miles away,” I managed to choke out against my cries. With her head still resting on the countertop she rested it on her side to look at me through the tears. “But why won’t you love me Y/n? Please just tell me why.” 

Shaking her head she only started to cry more. Her mouth opened to speak, but only more sobs came out and raked through her body. This time I did reach over and wrap her up into my arms, and to my surprise she wrapped hers back around me. “Can you tell me why we’re stilling holding on to each other?” 

“Because it’s what’s familiar to us,” she whispered her fist curling around my sweatshirt, “because we don’t know how to not love each other.” More tears fell down my cheeks and into her h/c messy hair. “I do love you Mitch-”

My sobs got harder causing her to stop speaking and hold me tighter. “No, you don’t Y/n. You won’t love me,” I whispered like sounding just like a broken record.  Her cries worsened as did mine. “Why won’t you love me?”