#you get 5 minutes to get your ass in the venue and sit the fuck down and then i’m walking down the aisle. if you’re late you’re not coming

[fingertipsmp3]

The amount of people who seem to enjoy spending time with a lot of people for a long period of time baffles the shit out of me man

[allmonstersxarehuman]

Gonna Take Care Of You

Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Very suggestive and sexual wording.

A/N: This has been sitting in my documents for a couple years. Oops. Also not revised or edited.

Not my gif credit to owner.

You let a small whimper leave your lips as Chan gave your neck a soft bite, his warm hands sneak underneath your t-shirt. “Chan we don’t have enough time for this, you guys start the show in 15 minutes. We can continue this later, I should’ve been seated with yours and Felix’s family already.” You said softly. “Mm. They can wait just need to feel you, need to touch my good luck charm before the show for extra luck.” He hummed pulling away from your neck to brush his nose against yours before pressing his pink plump lips to yours. You had to admit it was incredibly sexy when he was needy for you, but in this situation you worried about the start of the show and the fact you were supposed to be in your seat by now. “Baby, as much as I’d like you to fuck me until I can’t walk, you’ll have to wait.” You said softly ghosting your lips over his. “But trust me it’ll be worth the wait. Now get you sexy ass on that stage.” You giggle before giving a teasing tap onto his butt. The action causing him to let out a soft chuckle before grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger. “Fine, but when we get back to the hotel you better be ready for a long night.” He smirked. His expression softened leaning in to kiss you one more time before giving you a soft smile. “You really are my good luck charm. I love you little mouse.” You smiled at the silly nickname he had given not to long after you started working with him. “I love you too. I’ll see you after the show.”

As usual you loved watching the concerts the boys put on, but being able to watch it with some of their family in Sydney made it even better. Chris’ family embraced you soon after you were introduced to them. Same went for Felix’s family becoming close to both of their sisters. Though because of the flight restrictions and not enough free time it had been years since you’ve seen them, except for Hannah, so when Chris had some rare time off he had invited you to go with him to spend time with his family. Unfortunately you didn’t have any free time when it came to your own work schedule to go with him, plus you both couldn’t risk seen together in public especially without the other members. Even though you had been in a relationship with him for almost 5 years, JYP wanted to keep it secret and so did you and Chris; not wanting to make the relationship public because the both of you valued privacy.

After the concert, you were escorted to the hotel in a separate car arriving 10 minutes before the boys even left the venue. You knew that once Chan came back to the hotel he’d want to wash up, so you leaned down grabbing him some clean comfy clothes before doing the same thing for yourself and setting them on the bed. This was one of the things you liked to do when you both are home and especially when you came to stay with him on tour, you liked making sure he was properly taken care of. After setting out the clean clothes you then proceeded to the bathroom to take off your makeup and put your hair up before changing into some sleep shorts and a big t-shirt. Grabbing your laptop you walked over to the bed and climbed up so your back was against the headboard, you had left for the venue before you could finish up the bit of work you had left to do.

You had been so focused that you didn’t hear Chan walk into the room until you felt a hand on your ankle causing you to jump. “Sorry baby, didn’t mean to scare you.” He said as he laid on his side facing you, as his hand that was still on your ankle rubbed up and down your leg. You hummed closing your laptop setting it on the night stand, leaning forward to run your fingers through his hair. “I got your clothes and toiletries set up for you on the bathroom counter, I’ll order us some food as well. I’m sure you’re hungry.” You said softly giving him a small smile. He smiled at you lovingly softly grabbing your hand and placed a soft kiss to the back of it. “God how did I get so lucky.” He said softly. Chris’ lips soon turned into a seductive smile. “You know, I am hungry but I think I’m hungry for something a bit sweeter; definitely my favorite meal and the best part is only I get to enjoy this delicacy.” His soft plump lips start to slowly kiss up your leg closest to him brown eyes glued to your face, he loved pulling reactions from you especially when he would touch and kiss anywhere that wasn’t your lips. “You take such good care of me, now it’s my turn.” You blushed looking away from his heated gaze, your could feel your panties dampen and your vaginal walls flutter around nothing just aching to be filled. “Baby girl look at me.” Chris said voice deep with lust. You bit your lip looking at him but you continued to struggle to keep your eyes on him.

God he loved that after 5 years he could still make you flustered with just one look, touch or word. “Is my princess being shy?” He smirked already knowing the answer he stood up before taking off his shirt and gripped your ankles pulling you to the end off the bed kneeling between your legs and nuzzled his nose against your clothed core, the action causing you to let out a tiny whimper as you sat up on your forearms to watch him. “Damn you smell heavenly. Gonna take such good care of you baby, just like you take good care of me.” He placed kisses on each of your thighs before looking up at you for permission, his beautiful brown eyes were now darkened with lust and a hint of pure love. You bit your lip before giving a small nod, before you knew it he pressed a kiss to your center that was still covered before sliding your shorts and panties down in one swift yet gentle tug. “You ready baby girl? Because this is just the beginning of a long night.” You let a whimper in excitement and anticipation, the sound caused the already sexually charged man to smirk. This man was going to be the death of you.

[enalovesharry]

Hard times

summary : harry messes around before a show and gets his zipper stuck on a doggy suit costume and you come to the rescue!

warnings : swearing, crying, fluff!

*currently writing a blurb so have this little thing 😝 ps not really proof read so sorry for any confusion in my outrages writing 😭*

It felt like you had been searching for years, left and right, through all the cracks for Harry at the venue.

Jeff sent you on a mission to find him after he didn’t rock up to the soundcheck right before doors opened and he was set to be on stage in about 2 hours.

You weren’t worried, well not yet you weren’t. You also don’t think they checked his dressing room since he’s like a little energetic 5 year old who’s just had 7 bowls of sugar because he can’t ever sit still.

Knowing that for a fact because he’s either running around the stage, backstage, the whole ass venue or even exploring in some small janitors closet or something. Harry was a mad man, or let’s say he was a handful.

Opening the door into his dressing room you call out his name. “H? Are you in here, you missed sound check and everyone’s wondering where you are.” Closing the door behind you, your eyes dart to the bathroom, hearing someone mumbling in there.

Padding over to the small bathroom in his dressing room you peek your head in and holy fuck.

There he stands in front of the mirror, a large dog head from a costume is sat on the counter and he’s cursing to him self as he turns to the side, trying to rip the small zip down that goes from his neck all the way down.

“Oh my god…” you cover your mouth, walking into the doorway, his head snaps to you, his frown becoming more prominent as he turns fully to you, hands dropping beside him.

“Baby, I’ve been stuck in this fuckin’ costume for 30 minutes.” He’s almost on the verge of tears because of how hard he’s been trying.

It looks like he’s just had some hardcore sex, his hairs all sweaty and there’s sweat along his hairline, cheeks red and a panicked look on his face. His face drops as you throw your head back laughing so hard you could feel your ribs hurting.

“There’s no- no way this is real. Where did you even get this costume from!” You stumble over your words, giggles coming out of your mouth as he stands there like a child who’s just been told off, you walk over to him, your hand coming out to run your fingers against the fake fur on the costume. “You’re such a dumbass. Who knew you were a furry…” you look up at him, he’s still frowning.

“I perform in 2 hours, please get me out of this.” His expression turns serious, a hard look on his face now.

“Mm, I’d rather watch you go on stage in this. This is hilarious! What a story this is gonna be.” You smile as your hand comes up to see if you can tug on the zipper more, you squint your eyes pulling hard on the zipper a few times before you can think-

“Oops.” The zipper pulls off, leaving it with just the thing that connects it, you look to your hand before slowly lifting your head up to Harry, he stands there, eyes wide as he looks down at the zipper piece in your hand. “Well… we have a problem.”

“No, Y/N, no what.” His hands come up to his face, you place the piece onto the counter, feeling guilty because you knew Harry was frustrated having tried to get out of this dog costume for a while, you don’t realise he’s actually started crying.

He leans back against the counter, hands still on his face as he drops his head to his chest, you see his breathing is staggered, breathing unevenly with every breath he takes, you know every sign of him like the back of your hand so your heart does chip a little also knowing that if you were stuck in a dog costume you’d breakdown too.

“Oh baby, don’t cry please. Look at me, H.” You move in front of him, hands coming up to his wrists, tugging on them slightly but he keeps them pressed against his eyes.

“No. I’m crying- why am I crying, I’m so stupid.” He shakes his head. “I’m never gonna get out of this costume, I’ll be stuck in it till I’m in my grave.” He mumbles against his hands, you did want to laugh at how he was over reacting, but that wasn’t right for the situation right now.

“No you’re not, I can work something out. Baby, please look at me, it’s making me sad now. I don’t think someone wants to see me and you crying over a bloody doggy suit.” You chuckle, hands tugging on his wrists once again and he finally moves his hands, intertwining yours with his he looks down at you, eyes red and a small pout on his lips.

You then bring one of your hands up, brushing his eyelashes, wet with tears before wiping a tear that fell onto his nose, leaning up to peck his lips softly.

“Breathe, yeah? I always work things out, y’know that. You’ve been with me long enough to figure that out.” You smile at him and he smiles at you, a dimple finally poking out.

You then focus your attention on the zipper bit where the zipper teeth are together, you move your hands to the gap where the zip was and you pull and to your surprise they pull away from each other easily and you cheer, smiling widely.

“All my magic.. would you look at that, you’re free!” You giggle, pulling it all the way till he can pull the suit off as it drops to his feet, now he’s just standing there, in his boxers. “You’re a mad man, Styles. Still wondering why I didn’t get a warning contract before I started dating you…”

“Heeeeyyy, you love me.” He gives you a open mouthed grin, arms coming out to pull you into a tight hug. “Thank you for saving me, angel girl.”

“I swear if I find you in this situation again, you’re on your own.” You laugh against his chest, hands coming to wrap around his waist.

The situation was resolved and now it was a one of a kind story to tell, if helping him get out of a $30 doggy suit didn’t prove your loyalty to him you don’t know what else would. You loved this crazy man and wouldn’t of changed that moment for the world.

this just popped into my mind how silly

Dividers!! @firefly-graphics 🤍

[hollywoodxwhore]

wanted - part 6

Colson x Original Female Character x Pete

Warnings: swearing, alcohol usage

Word Count: 3774

Find parts 1-5 in my masterlist!

Pete's not even really in this part. Just Colson and tension and angst!

Pete and I haven’t talked about it.

It’s been almost two weeks since we spent the night together, and since then, it’s like nothing happened. He’s still the same sweet, friendly Pete, but he hasn’t made a single move on me. I find myself regretting ever having done anything with him. I obviously did something wrong if he hasn’t tried since. 

Machine Gun Kelly has another show tonight, this one out of town, and Alicia, Logan, and I are tagging along. We’ll be staying in a hotel, and the plan is for me to sleep on an air mattress in Alicia, Rook, Logan, and Sophie’s room. It is what it is. The fifth wheel. Always the single one.

Pete isn’t going, and I find myself feeling relieved about it. I know we’ll all go out drinking after and I don’t need my drunk self making anything worse. 

After dropping our things at the hotel, we rush to the venue. Everyone is thrilled that the band has been asked to play at a larger venue, one that required them to travel. They’ve been asked to open for another local band. It’ll be more money, too. 

Since Alicia and Logan are dating band members and I’m a close friend, we’re all allowed backstage. It’s pretty cool because it’s an actual stage and not a basement this time. There are actual places to hang out and get ready. I’m just sitting and soaking up the atmosphere when I spot a very distressed Colson. I frown, watching him for a moment before deciding to go over and see what’s going on.

“Colson, you good?” I ask. He’s tearing his hands through his hair.

“No, the fuckin’ pants I brought have a rip right in the ass,” he grumbles.

I frown, reaching for them, and sure enough, a tear right along the seam. I wince. “Can I run back to the hotel to get you another pair?” I ask.

Colson shakes his head irritably. “No. All I brought other than these is a pair of sweatpants. Too tall to borrow anyone else’s,” he says. “Fuck, I’m screwed.”

“No, you’re not,” I say. I check the tag of the pants for his size. “Where are your keys?”

Colson pats his pockets and hands them over, studying me. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Shopping,” I say.

Relief floods his face. “Alex, thank you,” he says, putting his palms together. “I…” He pauses. “I have no cash.”

I wave him off. “Not worried about it,” I insist, already walking away. He calls after me with another thank you but I’m already hurrying out to his car and checking my phone for shopping centers. 

This man is tall. I’ll need to find a place that makes clothes for tall guys who are also skinny. I drive to a nearby mall and within 20 minutes, I have three different options. I pay and rush back to the venue. 

They’ve just finished soundcheck and Colson spots me immediately. “Did you find some?” he asks.

“Yeah, come on, you can try them on,” I say, leading the way to the changing room. I expect him to take the bag and close the door but instead, he gestures for me to go in first. 

“You have to tell me if they look good,” he says, taking the bag from me. He pauses upon looking inside, glancing up at me. “You got three?”

I nod. “Wanted you to have options.”

Colson looks at me, something like softness taking over his features. He pulls out the first pair and drops his sweats to the floor. My cheeks feel slightly hot and I do my best to completely avoid looking at him as he shimmies into the tight jeans. He zips and buttons them, then turns to face the mirror.

“What do you think?” he asks. 

“They look great,” I say honestly. “They fit you perfectly. Try on the other two just in case.” He nods and does as he’s told, but the first pair is the best. “I’ll return the others before we go home tomorrow,” I offer.

“I can do it,” Colson insists, peeling off his shirt to change into his concert shirt. First, he puts on deodorant, and it’s really hard not to stare at him, but I keep my eyes averted. “I can’t thank you enough, Alex.”

“It’s no problem,” I assure him, crossing my legs and picking at my nail polish, anything to keep my eyes off of him. 

“Are you excited for the show?” he asks, much more chatty than usual.

“Yeah, I am,” I say. “You know I think you guys are amazing.”

“It means a lot that you came,” Colson says, and when I look up, he’s looking at me, sincerity in his eyes. “You’re a good friend.” Where is this coming from?

“Of course,” I say with a shrug. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Colson hesitates before looking away from me, turning toward the mirror as he buttons up his shirt. “Is something going on with you and Pete?” he asks.

I blink in surprise. “Wh-what?” I ask.

Colson shrugs. “It just seems like maybe there is,” he says casually, but almost like he’s forcing himself to sound so casual. I flash back momentarily to Sophie’s belief that Colson likes me. I still have a hard time believing her.

I think back to the night Pete and I hooked up, to how distant he’s been since. How he hasn’t brought it up or even really talked much to me. I sit up a little straighter and watch him mess with his hair. “No,” I say finally. “There’s nothing going on with us.”

Colson meets my eyes in the mirror, his gaze almost a challenge. “Do you want there to be?” he asks.

I stare back at him, stunned. I can’t believe he’s actually asking the question. My mouth opens but I don’t say anything. And luckily, I don’t have to because Slim and Baze burst in. They pause momentarily, looking between the two of us, then immediately continue their conversation, going to grab their clothes. I take the opportunity to leave the room, keeping my head down so Colson can’t meet my eyes.

Half an hour later, Logan, Alicia, and I are in the audience, waiting for the show to start. Logan and Alicia are chattering excitedly about the show and their partners, but I stay quiet. I’m still reeling over my conversation with Colson. Why was  he asking? Couldn’t he just ask Pete, his own roommate? I wonder if he has asked Pete and if so, what Pete might have said. Yeah, we hooked up and it was bad. I don’t know how to let her down easy. Or, we hooked up and I’m totally not into her. Her body is gross. 

Luckily, the show starts, interrupting my negative thoughts, and I pour myself into supporting my friends.

After the show ends and we pack everything up, we find a local bar and get a table. It’s already almost midnight, but this is a fairly busy city, so the bars are open late. Slim disappears to the bar to order a round of shots and he returns beside a waitress carrying a large tray. 

“Tequila for everyone!” Slim says. A few of us grimace and some cheer. We all take limes and sprinkle salt on our hands as the shots are doled out around the table. We all hold up our shot glasses. 

“To our biggest show yet,” Colson says, grinning widely. He’s at his best onstage and right after he gets off. Energetic, excited, and so smiley. He’s adorable, all pink cheeks and messy hair. “To the best group of friends I could ask for. EST for life.”

“EST for life!” We all repeat the words in unison, clinking our glasses together before downing our shots. Most of us grimace, sucking hard on our limes to soothe the sharp taste of cheap tequila. 

“I got next round!” Colson announces, hurrying off to the bar. 

“It’s gonna be a loooong night,” Slim says with a laugh. 

He’s not wrong.

Within an hour, we’re all drunk. Well past it, actually. We’re wasted. We’ve created our own dance floor and we’re dancing to a bunch of songs we all loved in high school, having taken over the jukebox. Luckily, there aren’t many other people here. I’m spinning slowly, arms in the air, dancing to music that used to play at my proms and formals, and I can’t help but reminisce on all the times I was so alone while all my friends had someone.

Nothing has changed.

Sophie and Logan are kissing. Rook and Alicia are dancing and talking, all smiles and whispers. Maybe some of the others are single, but I’m the only single girl here and it makes my stomach hurt. I stumble off the dance floor, feeling a little nauseous. Fuck, I’m way drunker than I thought.

I stumble down the hall to the bathroom and push the door open, tripping inside. I turn to lock the door, but before I can, it’s being pushed open. I don’t have time to think about anything as Colson pushes inside, concern etched into his features. He’s still wearing his concert outfit, the pants I picked out for him. 

“You okay?” he asks, locking the door behind him. I back up, colliding with the wall, and sink down, pulling my knees into my chest. Tomorrow, when I’m sober, I’ll be humiliated at the fact that my chin is wobbling and tears are filling my eyes. But right now, I’m too miserable to care. 

Colson’s eyes widen a little and he drops down in front of me, putting his hands on my knees. “Hey,” he says gently, trying to meet my eyes. “Alex. Look at me?” I finally lift my watery eyes to his. His eyes are so blue, and so full of sincerity and care. I’ve never seen him like this before, and if I weren’t so goddamn miserable, I’d be enjoying seeing a new side of Colson.

A little sob chokes out of me and I clap a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes as tears squeeze down my cheeks. “Shit,” Colson mutters, and then he’s next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to pull me in. I let him pull my head to his shoulder as I cry, too drunk to stop myself. “Are you sick?” he asks.

I consider this for a second, but no, I’m not nauseous. I feel sick to my stomach, yes, but that’s a direct result of my own panic and self-pity. I’m not at risk for vomiting, so I shake my head no. Colson nods and rests his cheek on my head, hand rubbing up and down my arm slowly. 

Blessedly, I get my tears under control and I pull my head away, sniffling as I wipe my cheeks. We’re quiet for a moment, but I can feel Colson looking at me. “Sorry,” I say finally, voice small.

Colson shakes his head. “No, don’t be,” he says gently. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” I mutter, hanging my head.

“Try me,” Colson says.

I look at him then, and he seems taken aback by my sudden attention, blue eyes blinking startledly. “Why are you being so nice?” I ask bluntly.

Colson frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. He considers this for a moment, throat bobbing. “Am I…usually not nice?” he asks. I give him a look and he falters. “Okay. I know I can  be a dick sometimes. A lot of the time,” he corrects himself, shaking his head. “But you’re my friend, and you’re upset. I saw you run off the dance floor and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You don’t have to tell me.” His face has hardened slightly, and his jaw clenches as he looks away. Immediately, I feel guilty.

“I just get sick of feeling so unwanted,” I say, like word vomit, before I can stop myself. I really don’t want to be vulnerable with Colson, but I also don’t want him to leave. He lifts his eyes to mine. “It seems like all of my girlfriends have someone who’s head over heels for them and then there’s me. I just…I just don’t know what’s so wrong with me.” My lip quivers again and I look away.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Colson says, shaking his head. 

“Yes there is!” I snap, and Colson looks surprised. I throw up my hands and make a frustrated sound. “There must me because no one fucking wants me! I hook up with-” I stop myself for a second, not really wanting to admit that Pete and I hooked up. “-with a friend who I thought could be more and then he pretends it never happened. Every guy I know goes for a different girl over me. There has to be something wrong with me.”

Colson is quiet for a long time. Such a long time that I think maybe he’s done talking. I wait for him to get up and leave. But, finally, when he speaks, his voice is quiet. “Are you talking about Pete?”

My head jerks over as I meet his eyes. He’s not really asking. He knows. “Did he tell you that?” I ask tightly, jaw clenching.

Colson hesitates, then nods. “Alex, I love Pete,” he says. “I really do. But he’s got some serious mental health issues. He’s not exactly reliable. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“It’s hard not to,” I shoot back, furiously wiping at the tears that have fallen. “He shouldn’t have done anything with me if he was going to fuck off like that.”

“You’re right,” Colson agrees. “I told him that. I told him that the way he’s acting is shitty.”

I blink at him. “You did?” I ask. Colson nods. “Oh.” My voice is croaky and I clear my throat, wishing that I was less drunk. “It’s fine,” I lie, shaking my head. “It’s not like I had feelings yet, really. It just makes me think I did something wrong.”

“Trust me,” Colson says. “You didn’t.”

I huff softly and shake my head. Colson can say whatever he wants, but he’s never seen me naked, never kissed me or touched me or felt me touch him. I’m sure I’m bad at it, otherwise, Pete would’ve stayed. He wouldn’t have cut me off like this. 

“I just want to go back to the hotel,” I mumble, rubbing my face. “I have to share a room with the fucking couples.”

Colson is quiet for a second. “Come stay in my room instead,” he says, and when I look at him, he looks surprised that he offered. He swallows. “It’s just Slim and Baze. I don’t know if you know this, but Justin is seeing someone. They’re staying in a different room.”

I chew my lip. “I don’t want to impose,” I say. “I can sleep on the floor. I brought an air mattress.”

Colson shakes his head. “That would be stupid. You can sleep in the bed. With me,” he adds, studying my face. “Or I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, it’s your bed,” I insist. I take a deep breath and then nod. “Alright. I would really appreciate it. Thanks.”

Colson smiles gently and gets to his feet, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he says. I take his hand and as he pulls me up, he wraps me in a hug. I’m surprised, but after a moment, I relax against his chest, letting my arms surround his thin waist. I close my eyes, wishing Colson could always be like this – sweet, generous, kind. I wonder when this will fade. Probably tomorrow morning when he wakes up sober beside me. But I can’t worry about that right now.

Colson rounds everyone up and we catch Ubers back to the hotel. Upstairs, I grab my bags from my original room and meet Colson outside, where he holds the door to his room open. He catches my eye and smiles as I step inside the room. 

Two queen size beds greet me, just like in my previous room, and I’m suddenly nervous about sharing a bed with Colson. Queens are pretty small for a guy of his height. I feel guilty about making him share with me. I set my bags on the floor in front of a bed and fidget.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Colson says. “Baze and Slim should be back soon, but they know I offered for you to sleep here.”

“Okay,”  I say, staring at the bed as Colson disappears into the bathroom. 

I sit on the edge of the bed and sigh, pulling my phone from my purse. No messages. I tuck it away and then search in my bag for my pajamas, laying them out on the bed. I want to shower, too. 

Baze and Slim must’ve gotten caught up at the hotel bar or something because by the time the shower turns off, they’re still nowhere to be found. I look up when Colson exits the bathroom and am shocked to find that he’s wearing nothing but a towel, slung low around his hips. 

My mouth dries out. I’ll never get tired of seeing this man shirtless. 

I try not to watch as he bends over his bag, pulling out some clothes. His hair is wet and shaggy and he looks so cute and sexy at the same time. My heart squeezes and I grab my bathroom bag and pajamas. “I’m gonna go shower, too,” I say. “Are you done in the bathroom?”

“Go for it,” Colson says without looking at me. 

I lock myself in the bathroom, shower, and brush my teeth. I feel better as soon as I’m dressed in a giant t-shirt and soft shorts. There are few things a good shower can’t fix. 

I leave the bathroom to find Colson sitting up in bed, one arm behind his head as he leans on the headboard, remote in his free hand. He’s still shirtless. He glances at me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, tucking my bathroom bag away again. I hesitate, then climb into bed beside him, sitting against the headboard, matching his posture. “Where are Slim and Baze?”

“No idea,” Colson says. “Probably out partying. They weren’t ready to come back.”

Guilt stabs at my gut. “Were you ready to come back?” I suddenly feel like I forced Colson to end his night of fun. 

“Definitely,” Colson sighs. “I’m exhausted. Those guys could go all night.”

I nod, relieved, and snuggle down into the blankets, suddenly exhausted myself. I stifle a yawn. “Thanks again for letting me stay here,” I say. 

“Of course.” Colson smiles at me. “You good?” he asks.

I nod. “Better. Thanks.”

Colson nods. He turns off the TV, then snuggles under the covers and turns off his lamp, pitching the room into darkness. We’re both quiet, the only sound being the air conditioner. 

“Hey, Alex?” Colson asks after a few moments.

“Hm?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Do you…do you think the band is actually good?”

I frown and shift under the covers. “Of course I do,” I say. “Why?”

“I just feel like I’ve been trying so hard,” he mutters. “I want more people to hear our music. I want someone to sign us. But either we get rejected or get no response. I just…I guess I was just wondering if you think it’s possible.”

I sigh softly. Without thinking, I reach for him, and my hand brushes his shoulder. Suddenly, his fingers are intertwining with mine, our hands resting on the bed between our heads. 

“I’m sorry it’s been so difficult, Colson,” I say. “I can imagine it’s really hard to find a place in the industry.”

“Nearly impossible unless you know someone,” he says.

“You can’t give up,” I say. “Your music is amazing and more people should hear it.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course,” I say. “Why does my opinion even matter?”

“Because,” Colson says, “I think you’re smart and you have good taste. And I knew you would be honest with me.”

I hesitate. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve listened to the album almost nonstop since I met you all,” I confess. “The lyrics, it’s all really…deep.” It almost feels like Colson is holding his breath. “Do you write all the lyrics?”

“Yes,” he says. “Slim helps sometimes, but it’s mostly me.”

“I can really relate to them,” I tell him. All the lyrics about feeling alienated, feeling like you don’t belong. I’ve found so much comfort in their music, knowing I’m not the only one who feels that way. 

“I’ve never really felt like I fit anywhere,” Colson admits. 

“Me neither,” I say quietly. “I don’t think a lot of people like me.” It’s weird, confessing all this in the dark of this hotel room.

Colson is quiet, but then, he lets go of my hand in favor of wrapping his arm around me. I let him pull me into his chest, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat at his affection. It sucks that I only get it in the darkness and privacy of a hotel room, but I’ll take what I can get with Colson. I close my eyes and subtly breathe in his scent, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest beneath my cheek. 

“Our group loves you,” he says quietly, lips close to my forehead. “The first time you came over, no one could stop talking about how funny and fun you were, and how we all needed to invite you over again.”

“That’s nice,” I say, flushing. 

“Fuck whoever has made you feel unwanted,” he says. “You’re wanted here. Okay?”

I nod, snuggling a little closer so our legs intertwine. “Thank you,” I say quietly. My eyes fly open when Colson’s warm lips press against my forehead. He leaves several kisses there, and then his hand is gently tipping my face up. His lips trek down my cheek, slow and gentle and sweet. I hold my breath, unsure if this is really even happening. 

“Alex,” he whispers, breath against my lips. I barely breathe, waiting for his lips to touch mine. I feel him lean closer, and then the hotel door beeps, signaling that it’s being unlocked. The magic is broken and Colson pulls away quickly, almost pushing me out of his arms. Stung, I roll onto my side and pretend to be asleep. 

And just like that, nothing has changed at all.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Jealous // Headcannons Måneskin

words // 1002

warnings // slight smutty mentions and cursing, thats all

pairing // Måneskin members x Gender Neutral Reader

author's note // soooo this might be a little all over the place but I hope you will enjoy it 💖 let me know if you want to be tagged on my writing (was supposed to be posted tomorrow, accidentally posted now... enjoy)

requested // yes, here

summary // How the members react to someone flirting with their s/o

Damiano David

let's be honest here, Damiano feels pretty secure in the relationship he has with his s/o, like I don't think he is afraid they will flirt with someone else

maybe he is insecure in the relationships but not like that, after all he has Venus in Aquarius

does that mean he doesn't get jealous?

nooooo

man's blood is boiling really when he sees anyone flirting with you

and we all know he isn't afraid to be assertive

he will come up to you and the person flirting with you

he WILL make sure they know you are his, and he doesn't like to share

maybe in rare occasions but this isn't one of them

his hands will be all over

your waist, if you're standing up, holding you close to him

your thigh, if you are sitting down, making a point of leaning towards you

"yes, my darling over here is extremely talented, you are right"

he would say that with soooo much sarcasm and venom ooooof

honestly, he would all but tell the guy to get the fuck away

he's trying to be nice lol

it all also depends on the occasion, and his lever of sobriety

if he's drunk he will literally just snatch you by the waist, mumble some type of "goodbye" to the person and slap you ass as you guys walk away

Thomas Raggi

Although Thomas can be almost as assertive as Damiano, I feel like he is a little more restrained

He would not just leave you alone to deal with the person flirting, especially if they were making you uncomfortable

but I feel like on occasion he would kind of push this along

like a game

"oh yeah, they are definitely available tomorrow"

I don't know but I get the vibe that he would find it quite entertaining to just see you struggle to kindly deny after he said you are free tomorrow

He feels far more secure in the relationship than Damiano, so he is not really worried anyone can out-do him

he already does the most for you and you both know and love it

So for Thomas is more a matter of whether the person is being creepy, touchy feely and in general making you uncomfortable

I feel like he would talk about it afterwards

like some freaky action is in store just as a little reminder that no one can make you feel like him

but he will surely just start talking and joking about it

"did he really think he had a chance with you? come on man, they are out of your league"

or you would scold you for putting you on the spot

"did you really have to tell him 'they are into some freaky stuff mate' and just leave"

yes, absolutely he had to

i feel like he's also kind of proud?

like "yes! i scored that, you didn't deal with it"

Victoria De Angelis

Victoria seems headstrong and stubborn so there are two scenarios I can see here

you either kind of let the person flirt because you had a fight and she is stubborn and doesn't talk to you

of course you wouldn't flirt back, but some people, especially men, if you are a woman, just don't get the hint no matter how much you ignore them

no but like seriously, even after you block them - one ended up contacting my sister for me.... sorry back to the headcannons

so you take advantage of that

she will be like a ticking bomb the whole time omg

but she is stubborn so she will not move

but she has to, the fucker does not go away

but no, no, she will not

until she sees that you start to get uncomfortable or she thinks the person is talking to you for too long

all anger (towards your argument earlier) is forgotten then and she's quick to make her way over

now, the second occasion she will not really try to hold back but will immediately move over to where you are and just flop herself on your lap if you're sitting down

this applies to both occasions, after she comes to you

"oh sorry, am i blocking them. oops my fault. you were talking huh? and what for?"

the sarcasm I swear

she is ready to fight this person

you will of course try to reassure her but she will tell that person to just leave already

"ok, enough, conversation. that was fun. I want my partner, now bye"

and that's that, won't even bat an eyelash

Ethan Torchio

Ethan is surely the calmest in the group

at first

he would be rather annoyed and let, who ever one of his friends is close by, know about it

"did they not see we are together? they saw us, i am sure, they were right by the door when we walked in"

he will keep his composure for a while, that is for sure

just sip the drink Ethan, sip the drink

I don't know, I feel like he would try to be calm

cause he is always so calm ig

and honestly he would be calm

just possesive

his possessiveness would come out strong in that moment

the mans got Scorpio Venus, obviously he is possessive as hell

so he would come over to you

"yes, sorry to interrupt, just need my partner for a while"

eeeemphasis on my partner

like he would seem so calm and collected to everyone around but oooof no

goes for 1-100 in .5 seconds

by the time the 2 of you have walked on another location he has you pinned on a wall, kissing you

you bet your ass he has taken you to spot the person that was flirting with you can see him making out with you

i mean... he saw you walk in with him but he still flirted with you, he might as well enjoy a show

he would literally just do that and 5 minutes later act like nothing happened, joking around with your guys' friends

Tag List: @bieberhoodforever

[koobunno]

Would it be alright if I pulled you closer?

smut, angst, sociopath!taehyung, dad!taehyung, husband!taehyung

A/N: This fic might be triggering to some, I'm sorry, I just wanted to cry a bit. :((

T/Ws: sex abuse, fingering, abusive husband/partner, oral sex, mild physical abuse

Word Count: 1,733 words

-------------

Taehyung kissed your neck as he draped his arms around you. “Taehyung” you mumbled as you closed your eyes, confused if you're pleased or scared about what’s about to happen. He turned you to face him and cupped your cheeks while looking at your lips. “Hmm? Don’t tell me you’re tired” he smirked as if he knew what you’re just going to say. “No, it’s just, our son might hear us” you made up an excuse to get through this, well at least you tried. “No, he won’t” replied to you still smirking.

He then rapidly caught your lips with his, still analyzing what’s happening you didn’t get to respond to his kisses not until he squeezed your sides. It was not a gentle one and it made you wince a bit. You just closed your eyes and responded to his kisses as you always would whenever your husband feels needy.

The kiss went on to be wilder, needier and lustful. Still holding your eyes shut you felt how his hands travelled throughout your body. You felt it squeezing and spanking your ass multiple times, then went to your breasts to massage and play with your clothed nipples. You whined because of the unwanted pleasure he’s giving you.

His fingers went to your shoulders and pulled down the strap of your nightgown. At this point you’ll just be compliant, as he labeled how you should be. It exposed your breasts directly for you are not wearing a bra. He cupped your breasts and pressed them together. He put his mouth on your left bosom and ate it like a needy infant. He has bitten it and it made you scream because of the ache he gave.

“Stand up, face the wall” he authoritatively told you. You stood up as you didn’t want any more fuss to happen. While you’re facing the cold wall you can hear his clothes drop to the ground. Closing your eyes, you felt his hands trace your waist, he collected your hair after and asked you to give him the band on your wrist. You gave him the hairband and he tied your hair neatly.

After that, his hands went to the waistband of your underwear. Pulling it slowly as if he is seeing a sight. Still with your eyes shut, you felt how his long fingers slid to your pussy, inserting a finger inside you, and withdrawing it to spread your juices around. “Shit” you mewled as he massaged your now-wet clit, and went on fingering you again. Pinning you against the wall, you can feel his dick touching your back as he plays with your pussy with his digits.

When you think he got bored of what he’s doing, you felt the tip of his penis at your entrance, your body jolted as you felt the sensation. “Stay still” he whispered into your ear and bit it afterwards. You nodded as he turned you over and pushed you down to kneel. You knew what to do, you licked your lips and held on his shaft as you put it in your mouth. Taehyung moaned as you played with your tongue. He went hard by grinding his hips more causing you to gag.

Not wanting to stop there, Taehyung and you went to the bed again, he made you sit on his face as his tongue wiggled around you, holding your breasts tightly, you don't know what to feel, really. If it’s pleasure or despair as you let your husband use you for pleasure again.

Taehyung then pushed you back to the bed, harshly. Sipped and bit your neck, leaving marks as you feel his tongue against it.

You’re just startled when you felt him into you and started to grind fast. Hearing those sloppy and wet strokes, you just closed your eyes and let out a moan. Taehyung, still pounding you while eating out your breasts simultaneously.

He inserted two fingers on your mouth, as the push and pull doesn’t stop. He then halted for a while, made you stand on all fours, entering you from the back. Holding your hips to ensure the pace he wants. You pushed your face on a pillow for you don’t want to scream too loud. Spanking your butt, Taehyung didn’t let his speed down. “Ahhhh-shit” you heard him mewl as he pushed himself deeper.

“Ahhhhhhh-fucking shit” he shouts as you felt his cum wash your inside walls. You shut your eyes tightly again as if you’re thanking all the odds that it’s done, at last. Taehyung pulled out of you and went directly to the bathroom, maybe to wash himself. You’re still lying on the bed covering your body with the blanket, tired from what happened. The switch went off and you felt your clothes being thrown at you. He’s going out somewhere again, after using you.

“Taehyung” you called for him. “Yes?” he answered while he’s putting on his watch. “Please don’t forget your son’s Award Ceremony tomorrow” you told him like you were begging, knowing he’ll be out for the night again, you just wanted to remind him. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me.” he told you as he was leaving you in the cold room, putting your clothes on.

———

You’re trying to sleep but you shifted on the other side of your body as you felt an uncomfortable ache at your waist, you stood up and went in front of the mirror to check. It displayed a big red mark because of the way Taehyung squeezed your waist earlier. You just grabbed a compress to put on it while you’re trying to sleep alone in a big bed.

———

Barely getting any sleep, at 5:00 am you heard the doors unlock, because of your husband who isn’t that drunk but reeks of alcohol. You went there to check and he just rolled his eyes on you, as expected. He went up straight to your bed and slept as if he’s tired and weary. You just went back to bed to get a hold of sleep even for a short time.

Hours later you woke up just in time to help your son prepare for school. “Mommy, I’ll see you and daddy later at school okay? You promised.” he assured you. “Yes, baby, you’ll see us later” you nodded and kissed him before he ran towards the school bus waiting outside.

Checking on Taehyung who is still in a deep slumber, you prepared yourself for work. As you sat in front of the vanity mirror, you saw noticeable marks on your neck that’s why you made an effort to cover those visible ones.

You left a note at the door reminding Taehyung again for your son’s event later that day before leaving. You swung on your bag and it hit your waist, you flinched as you felt it hurt, knowing it’s now progressed to being a bruise. You let the idea go and went straight to work.

———

“Uhm, we don’t have any meetings scheduled this afternoon right?” you asked your secretary, ensuring you don’t compromise work to attend to your child. “None so far, ma’am.” she told you as you told her that you’ll take an early-out for your son.

You arrived at your child’s school and went to the hall, your son greeted you and immediately asked about his father, who wasn't visible by the time. “He'll be here soon, now go back to your seat, I’ll be sitting here at the back” you told him as he ran off back to his seat. You called Taehyung and after 5 missed calls he answered. “What do you need?” he said over the line. “Uh, when will you go here? Your son asks about you.” you told him honestly. You heard him sigh deep and told you he’s coming. He forgot once again, if only you hadn’t called him, you’ll deal with your child crying for the rest of the day again.

-----

Taehyung arrived at the venue minutes later, just in time because your son’s preparing to go up the stage with his classmates, Taehyung held his hand before you did so you just went back to your seat. The ceremony started and your son received the prestigious award, still holding his father’s hand. They went down the stage and he showed you his gold medal and a plaque. You smiled at him and kissed his cheeks, Taehyung looking at him, smiling.

Taehyung suggested treating his son. You counted yourself out because you can feel Taehyung’s sharp glare at you. “I still have something to do for work, baby bear.” You made an excuse because your son isn't happy about it but you can’t stand him seeing you and Taehyung fight over nonsense matters while he’s on the treat. “Enjoy with daddy, first hmm?” you told him before you went to your car and drove home.

Arriving at your house, you went to your room and changed clothes, a thin flimsy white shirt and a short. You decided to change the sheets and clean the room. After, you went for a nap. Hours later, you woke up to a noise coming from the main door. It’s definitely your husband and your son. You saw your child carrying loads of toys, his father took him to a spree again. You just smiled at the sight of him being so happy to spend time with Taehyung. “Come on, show mommy what you got earlier.” Taehyung told your child and the little one excitedly pulled out everything his father bought for him. While Taehyung grabbed your waist, slightly squeezing it, you silently squirmed as your side ached once again. “Bedroom in 20 minutes, hmm?’ Taehyung whispered in your ear, making you shiver. “Isn’t this cool, mommy?” Taehyung sarcastically told you while holding one of the toys he bought for your son. You faked a smile as you nodded and answered with a yes. Your son giggling because of excitement for all of his new toys.

You just put out a lethargic smile because you decided to endure everything for your son, even if it’s an exchange for your well-being. It’s for your son after all, he’s happy whenever his dad's around, even if it’s the complete opposite for you.

You’ll still pull Taehyung closer despite the stinging pain you feel.

[topsytervy]

Hello ~ Rafe Cameron

This is Part 2 to Goodbye cause I had the thought in my head and I didn't want to write it only for it to sit in my docs so you can read Goodbye (aka Part 1) here.

Blurb: A lot can change in five years.

Word Count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, smoking, cocaine, spelling/grammar mistakes, i think that's it.

Small note: I’m 19 and have never planned a wedding. I’ve been to my fair share of weddings as guests and my only experience with a wedding would have been when my sister got married, however, her in-laws are kind of assholes so her wedding was really lowkey and shit, like it took place in my sister backyard lowkey, cause her mother-in-law was like 'Im not paying for anything cause you guys wont last but I'll pay for your sisters weddings' so like I’m winging half of this shit if not most of it. I’m sorry.

~~~~~

It was 5 years later.

You were 21, along with the rest of the pogues, and able to legally drink and purchase alcohol. So no more hassle with a fake ID.

Nothing had changed except for college and jobs. You and JJ had broken up after two years of dating and, much to everyone's surprise, it was like nothing had ever happened between you two.

It was insanely easy to slip back into the friend zone with JJ, despite both of you thinking that it would be awkward. Both of you fell back into old habits fairly quickly. Sure there were the first couple of weeks where you two felt as if you had to force normality but after that, it was like nothing happened. Sure, JJ still called you princess and you still found yourself hiding into his side during scary movies, but those were habits you two had prior to dating, and old habits die hard.

The only other difference was that John B and Sarah were getting married.

They were planning on getting married at The Lodge at Bear River in fall which meant a ferry to the mainland and then an almost 8-hour road trip to the venue. 

You, Kie, and Wheezie were bridesmaids, Kie being maid of honor, and Pope, JJ, and much to John B's displeasure, Rafe were groomsmen, JJ being best man. 

You and Pope were walking together which left Rafe and his half-sister to walk together. 

Rafe looked at his sister and John B, trying to stay as unphased as possible. "Y/N's gonna be a part of the wedding party?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette from his spot by the pool. 

John B and Sarah were outside at the patio table with their wedding planner, going over guests and the wedding party. The three looked over at Rafe and Sarah nodded.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"No reason. If you need someone to walk with her, I'll do it." He told her as nonchalantly as possible. 

"She's walking with Pope." John B responded. Rafe made a face as he brought the cigarette back up to his lips and John B narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is there a problem?" Sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"No. No problem. It's your wedding."

John B rolled his eyes before turning back to the wedding planner. 

Rafe stood up and walked inside, flipping John B the bird as he walked by. He felt as if John B was put on this earth just to make him miserable at this point.

Rafe walked over to the bar and fixed himself a drink, Wheezie rolling her eyes from her spot on the couch in between Rose and Ward, who were currently scrolling through formal wear for the wedding. 

"Dad, Rafe's day drinking... again." The now eighteen-year-old piped up.

Rafe glared at her. "Just wait Wheezie. This will be you in a few years." He told his half-sister with a smirk.

Wheezie scrunched up her face in disgust at the sight of her brother holding his cigarette in one hand and drink in the other.

Rose, a glass of wine in her hand, rolled her eyes at her stepson as Ward, a gin and tonic in his hand, just sighed. "It's five o'clock somewhere, Wheezie." 

Rafe clinked his glass against his father’s as he made his way upstairs to his old room that he was temporarily staying in since his apartment building had taken some damage during the latest hurricane and was currently getting the necessary repairs done, and closed the door behind him. He sat down at his old desk chair and looked at the corkboard above the desk where a couple of polaroid pictures of you hung. The pictures were the first thing Rafe went looking for when he had gotten back to his apartment, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the little lockbox he had stored the polaroids still in the closet and completely unscathed. Rafe downed his drink as he swiveled his chair back and forth. 

Of course, John B wouldn't pair you and him up. That would be helping a brother out. Rafe did everything he could to show that he changed once he heard you and JJ broke up.

 He quit cocaine and took up cigarettes instead. He went back to college and got a business degree. He was currently working and getting along with his father. He had his life together, mostly, and on track. The only thing missing from his life was you.

He had barely spent more than 5 minutes in a room with you since the breakup because you were either by JJ or you retreated as far from him as possible. He'd casually bring you up in conversation with John B and your friend would just roll his eyes. 

"We don't bring you up in conversations, Rafe." John B told him one day.

That cut the blue-eyed man deep.

Especially since this was after Rafe gave John B the money he needed to buy Sarah an engagement ring. 

Some wingman John B was.

Rafe stood up with a sigh and walked downstairs, deciding to bring the entire bottle of whiskey upstairs since he could already tell it was going to be one of those nights. He halted by the patio door though when he heard his sister and John B start talking.

“Would it be that bad to pair Rafe and Y/N up for the wedding? I highly doubt Wheezie wants to walk with him. At least Y/N won’t whine about it.” She asked as she placed a hand on his arm, the wedding planner nowhere in sight.

Rafe leaned against the wall, biting his lip as he waited for John B’s answer. If Rafe was being honest, he was kind of surprised that his sister would even consider asking John B that since she could care less about what Rafe wanted.

“Sarah, I love you but you did not see her that day or the day after or the following month and a half after that. Do you know how hard it was seeing Y/N like that? Heartbroken. Not wanting to get out of bed. Thinking she did the wrong thing and that caused him to go over the edge. Do you know how many times JJ, Pope, Kie and I caught her reading the obituaries to make sure Rafe’s name wasn’t in there?” John B looked at his fiancée. “I’m not pairing them up together without her permission. That’s that.”

“Then ask her.”

"What?" 

"Ask Y/N if she wants to walk with Rafe?" Sarah saw the 'are you kidding' look in John B's eyes. "I'm serious John B. Rafe's changed a lot and, despite what you think, you cannot keep her from talking or seeing my brother all your life."

"I can try." The curly-haired boy stated, crossing his arms.

"You know what, JB? You are acting like a damn child. It is not going to break Y/N/N if you ask her one small question that contains the name Rafe, okay? I'm sure she can hear his name and not break down or something. It's been long enough. Let him have that 5 minutes he needs to talk to her cause, yeah I do not doubt that Y/N took their breakup hard, but what about Rafe? Hmm? Believe it or not John B, but my brother has fucking feelings too, okay. He probably took that break up just as hard and Wheezie and I witnessed it. So stop acting like even whispering Rafe's name will break her and just fucking ask her if she wants to walk with Rafe or Pope."

"Fine. If it makes you and Rafe happy, I'll ask her." John B huffed.

Rafe didn't stay to hear the rest, just turned around and walked back to his room, the whiskey bottle long forgotten. 

****

Fall had come quickly and the wedding date came even faster. It was like Rafe blinked and then he was on the ferry two days before the wedding, sitting next to you, very awkwardly might I add, his leg bouncing up and down as he played with his fingers. It was like he didn't know what to do with his hands. After all these years, the most natural thing to do with one of his hands was still to place it on your thigh and the amount of willpower it took to not do that exact thing was unbelievable.

Rafe had told his dad that he was going to rent his own car because eight hours in a car with his family was a hard no for him. 

So there he was, walking over to the car he rented and opening the door before stopping and watching you get in a car with Pope, Kie, and JJ.

You glanced up just before you got in, making eye contact with him. You gave him a small smile to make it a little less awkward and Rafe returned the smile before hopping into the car. He watched you guys pull away and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh before putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. 

This was going to be the longest three days of his life.

***

He was happy for the long-ass drive of day one considering once everyone got to the hotel, there was a silent, collective decision to all just turn in for the night. 

Day two was a little less chill. After being awoken by a panicked banging on the door of his hotel room, Rafe got out of bed as quickly as he could and opened the door, only to be greeted by Sarah who roughly pushed past him into his room.

“Yeah. Come on in. Good morning to you too.” He deadpanned before shutting the door.

“What the hell am I doing, Rafe?” She asked out of the blue, causing a look of confusion to settle on his face.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He stated.

He watched as Sarah sat on his bed and ran her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. “Is this too soon? Am I getting married too young? Like, I’m 21, Rafe. I should be out getting blackout drunk and having hookups and having regrets but instead, I’m doing the exact opposite.” She rambled.

“Okay. I see what’s happening now.” Rafe walked over and sat down next to Sarah. “Sarah, trust me when I say that marrying John B will not hurt any of that. I guarantee that you and John B will get blackout drunk together and call someone for a ride. I guarantee you will be having hookups, it’s just that all of them will be with John B. And you will have regrets. What those regrets are, I have no fucking clue but life is full of them. Trust me, I have a lot of regrets and I’m only 24.” Rafe told her. “But, I don’t think marrying John B is going to be one of your regrets. Canceling this wedding would be. After all, the venue does say no refunds.”

Sarah snorted slightly and Rafe bumped his shoulder against hers. “Believe me, Sarah, if anyone is ready to get married at this age, it’s you. You came down with a damn binder filled to the brim when you were like seven and placed it in front of me and dad on the coffee table and told dad to start making connections with everyone in that binder, right down to the dress designer.”

Sarah smiled before turning and wrapping her arms around Rafe. “Who would’ve thought you could give a pep talk. And liked John B.” She said.

Rafe slowly wrapped his arms around his younger sister. “Apparently you because you came to me. However, this does not mean I like John B. I am not going to start canceling shit just to have some one-on-one time with that curly-haired surfer dude. Okay? I simply tolerate him because he somehow makes you happy.”

After breakfast and lunch that he spent with Wheezie, last-minute plans when he walked to your room to ask you to lunch only to knock and have you answer the door which caused him to quickly abandon that plan and say “Whoops sorry. Room 202 for Wheeze,”, the rehearsal dinner came quickly. 

In all honesty, Rafe wasn't really paying attention to the dinner at all. How could he when you were right there, quite literally within his reach, laughing and smiling?

The actual wedding day itself was stressful leading up to the ceremony but after everyone got where they needed to be, it was smooth sailing. Rafe and Wheezie walked out after Kie and JJ. 

Rafe watched you walk down with Pope and couldn't help the pang of jealousy he felt in his chest. He also couldn't help but imagine himself as the groom and you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him.

He quickly shook the thought from his head though, watching you take your place next to Wheezie before turning your attention towards the door to watch his dad and sister walkout. 

You glanced over at Rafe and smiled slightly when you saw him bring a hand up to his cheek, wiping away a tear. You turned your attention to John B before Rafe could look over and catch you staring.

You saw John B wipe his hands on his trousers as subtly as he could. You caught JJ's eyes and he shook his head, mouthing 'fucking whipped' to you.

You nodded and moved your eyes between Sarah and John B before settling them back on JJ. 'Obviously' you mouthed back before the pair of you stopped before someone caught you.

In all honesty, Sarah did and she saw Rafe catch the interaction as well, noticing him swallow hard.

The ceremony went smoothly with no objections -Rafe fought back the urge to object just to mess with everyone but he knew his entire family wouldn't appreciate the humor- and after pictures, everyone moved inside for the reception as the sun began to set.

Dinner and drinks were served, toasts were made -JJ had made sure to include a few of John B's stupid and most embarrassing moments, much to Rafe's pleasure-, and then the dancing began. 

Sarah and Ward had their father/daughter dance and then John B and Sarah had their first dance before everyone else was encouraged to join them on the dance floor.

Wheezie walked over to Rafe and Rafe looked at her. "I am not nearly drunk enough to get out on that floor and dance with you Wheezie."

Wheezie just rolled her eyes. "You have a shot right now to go ask Y/N to dance and no one will even notice you. Take it." Rafe ignored her. "Oh, okay. So you can sit there and stare but you don't have the balls to walk up to her and say 'wanna dance'?"

Rafe glared at his half-sister. "Watch your mouth, Wheezie."

Wheezie took one last glance at the dance floor and shrugged. "That's fine. Looks like someone else did."

Rafe had never scanned a crowd faster than he did right there and sure enough, there you were, a cousin of his with his hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders, moving slowly around the dance floor.

"I'm going out for a smoke," Rafe muttered before getting up and making his way out of the building. 

He stood outside and brought out his pack of cigarettes, along with his lighter, and opened up the little carton. He withdrew a cigarette before closing the pack and shoving it back into his pocket, placing the cigarette between his lips. He heard the song from inside end before another one started back up as he flicked the spark wheel a couple of times, his thumb landing on the fork before a flame appeared.

He cupped his hand in front of the flame and brought the flame to the cigarette that rested between his lips, making a mental note to buy a new lighter since his was running out of juice.

Rafe heard the door open and close as he shoved the lighter back into his pocket and inhaled. He blew out the smoke before looking over to see who had joined him and was a little surprised to see you.

Of course, Rafe knew at some point you'd duck out of the party for some fresh air considering in social situations where they were tons of people, you needed to get away for a bit and recharge your social battery. He just didn't expect you to do that so soon.

You both stared out in front of you, not saying anything and Rafe brought the cigarette to his lips again, taking another drag.

"It's beautiful out here." You breathed out, trying to start some conversation.

Rafe nodded as he exhaled. "Yeah, it is."

"I wouldn't mind getting married here." You added absent-mindedly.

If Rafe had a drink right now, he would've choked at your words. He nodded nonetheless. "Yeah. It's a pretty nice place to get married."

You looked over at Rafe. "You gonna be okay over there, big guy?"

Rafe turned his head to look at you, confusion written all over his face. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you wipe a tear away, bub." Rafe's heart sped up at the nickname that you used to use on him. "When Sarah was walking down the aisle. You gonna be okay or should the same reaction be expected at Wheezie's wedding too?" You smiled as Rafe groaned, tilting his head to look at the almost pitch-black sky.

"Don't even mention Wheezie getting married. To me, she's still that annoying thirteen-year-old that was always eavesdropping and snooping through shit." 

"Awe, Rafe. You got a soft spot for your sisters now. That’s so sweet." You cooed, knowing that when he was 19, the only thing he did was complain about the two Cameron girls. "Seriously though, I think it's sweet that you walked with Wheezie and that you shed a tear today." You told him.

Rafe couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I wanted to walk with you but you told John B you'd rather walk with Pope."

Way to go, dumbass, he thought to himself.

"What are you talking about?" It was your turn to look confused.

Rafe sighed, taking another drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke pour past his lips as he spoke. "I offered to walk with you and John B said no. I overheard him and Sarah talking a bit later and Sarah told him that it wouldn't hurt to ask if you wanted to walk with me or not. And I think you know the rest."

He might as well fess up about it since his mouth and brain already decided to rat him out anyway.

You shook your head. "I don't know the rest because John B never asked me who I wanted to walk with nor did he ask if I wanted to walk with you."

Rafe looked over at you, his eyes locked on yours. He knew when you were lying and this was not one of those times.

He chuckled before shaking his head. "God. He's such a dick."

You ignored his comment about one of your best friends and walked closer to him. "You seriously wanted to walk with me?"

Rafe nodded, looking down at the ground. He was in way over his head, admitting that after half a decade he was still thinking about you and wanting to be with you. Even if it was for like a 20-second walk down an aisle.

You felt a blush grow on your cheeks as you looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers.

A beat passed before you spoke, keeping your head down. "If it makes you feel better… I would've said yes."

Rafe looked at you. "Yeah?"

You nodded and he took another drag from his cigarette.

"Can we start over?" He asked.

"What?" Your Y/E/C eyes lifted from the ground to meet his blue ones.

"Can we start over?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah. Sure."

Rafe cleared his throat before placing a small smile on his face and giving a little bow. "Hello. I'm Rafe."

You breathed out a laugh before giving Rafe a slight curtsy. "Hello, Rafe. I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Rafe shook his head. "Oh no. The pleasure is all mine."

Your heads both turned to the building when the song changed once again to a slower song and Rafe took Wheezie's advice on seizing an opportunity. 

"You still like this song?" You nodded once more and Rafe put out his cigarette before extending his hand to you. "Would you like to dance?"

You smiled and took his hand. "Of course."

He placed his hands on your waist and yours looped around his neck, him starting to sway you two slightly.

"You look amazing by the way." Rafe complimented, taking in the lavender color of your bridesmaid dress.

"Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself." You took your hands from his neck and straightened his tie before returning them to where they previously were.

You moved closer to Rafe, resting your head on his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Rafe?" You mumbled towards the end of the song.

"Mhm?"

"I missed you." You admitted.

Rafe smiled before placing a kiss at the top of your head. "I missed you too, Y/N/N."

"Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you maybe wanna ride back to the ferry together? 8 hours is a long trip.  Especially when you're alone and I have to deal with JJ, Pope, and Kie." 

You heard Rafe’s heart speed up a bit before it calmed back down as he took a deep breath. 

"I would love that."

~~~~~~~

[oopsiedoopsie23]

The princess and the drummer | Rook x reader

A/N: Soooo I sort of drifted away from the prompt but I actually liked how this turned out so forgive me my loves. Also, wouldn’t mind doing a part 2 to this so let me know if ya want one <3

Prompt: Rumours spiral when the reader, a famous pop star, is spotted getting drum lessons from a certain drummer ;)

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea Y/N, you have press starting soon for your album and we really need to control what the press is saying about you before then, being there will do nothing but hurt your image right now.”

“Mhm...mhm...”

“Y/N are you even listening to me? I’m trying to save your image, you know?”

You sighed as you took another sip of your beer before putting your phone back to your ear.

“Look, all I’m doing is hanging out with my friends before their concert tonight, it’s fine, I don’t see how that could possibly end my career.”

“I’m not saying that this will end your career...”

“Perfect! So if it doesn’t end my career then I don’t give a shit.”

You end the phone call before quickly downing the rest of your beer.

“Damn girl who the fuck did you just kill?”

You turn around and see none other than your best friend himself, MGK, in what you like to call his prime element, joint in one hand, microphone in the other, wearing expensive clothes that he was definitely gonna strip off 5 minutes into his concert.

“What makes you think that I killed anybody?” you smirked as you took the joint out of his hand. “The fact that you just downed that beer and sounded like you wanted to shoot whoever you were on the phone with, in the balls.”

You laughed, almost choking on the smoke coming out of your lungs as you hand the joint back to him. “Trust me, I wanted to do a lot worse to that fucking idiot.” You roll your eyes, “My manager says that they’re the best publicist in this stupid ass industry, but they seem more like a fucking babysitter with a stick up their ass, to me.”

This time it was Colson’s turn to laugh. “C’mon dude forget that shit, you can keep us company during sound check.”

You nodded, accepting his invitation, following your best friend through the  venue’s small hallways and staircases leading to the stage.

“Damn Col, this is a dope ass venue.” you whistled, the venue was definitely smaller than you were used to but with all of the lights and screens set up, it created an atmosphere that felt almost euphoric.

“I know, it might not be one of the arenas that you perform at but this is something else.”

You turn around, ready to smack Colson for his slight dig at you when you hear another voice interrupt you,

“Hey sweetheart, heard you were about to kill someone over the phone earlier!”

“Rook...always the gentleman.” you smile as you take the beer from his hands.

The two of you stand in silence for a bit, admiring the venue and each taking small sips of your beers.

“Do you know how to play the drums?”

You almost spit out your mouthful of beer as you begin laughing.

Rook can’t help but join in as he watches you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach from laughing so hard. “What? You seem like the type of girl to kill someone in their sleep so you must play the drums at least a little bit.”

“I sing fucking pop music Rook, and what is it with everyone calling me a murderer today?”

“In my defence, your music gives off more of a ‘sweet but psycho’ vibe and not much of a ‘pop princess’ vibe.”

You watch as the drummer smiles wide, as if he’s about to laugh at his own joke, before stretching his hand outward slightly, like he’s offering you to take it.

“C’mon even pop stars can learn how to play the drums.”

You blush slightly as you take his hand, allowing him to lead you up another set of stairs that led to the drum set.

“So...this is my home.” you giggle as Rook picks up one of his drumsticks using it to point to each part of the drum, explaining what they do, you were so entranced by him and his passion for the instrument that it takes you a few minutes to notice that he was still gently holding onto your hand.

It isn’t until he leaves to grab more beer that he lets go of your hand. You can’t help but feel as if your hands miss the warmth and gentleness of his as you’re sitting in his seat holding his drumsticks, awaiting his return.

“Y’all motherfuckers need to get a room.”

You spin in the seat, glaring at your best friend who was leaning against the wall, seemingly watching you.

“First of all, you look creepy as fuck, second, you know that we’re just friends.”

Colson smirks at you before taking a sip of whatever poison he was drinking, “Then why were the two of you holding hands the whole time?”

You blush as you realize that you weren’t the only one that had noticed.

“Hey I got one for you too, in case you wanted one.” 

Rook carefully sets the beers on the ground before turning to you.

“What are you smiling about?”

“The fact that after this lesson, I’m gonna give you a run for your money.”

Rook laughs and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat as you see how wholesome his smile is.

“Okay then, let’s see what the pop princess can do on the drums.” 

“I thought that I was more of a psycho than a princess?” you smirked

“Well it depends on how much you give me a run for my money, princess.”

You swear that you almost fall off of the chair at the nickname. Rook notices your slight surprise and takes the opportunity to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your shoulders so that he was able to put his hands around yours on the drumsticks.

Your breath hitches as you move your head up so that you were looking back into his eyes. 

You watch as his eyes slowly scan down your body, from your eyes to your lips, to your cleavage that you knew you were giving him a better view of, from your positions. You smirk as you take advantage of his surprise to grab the sides of his face, pulling him downwards so that both of your lips collided. 

You felt electricity go throughout your body. It was as if you could feel a spark buzzing throughout your body travelling from your lips to your feet. You felt his hands slightly graze over your hips and you try your hardest to hold back a moan.

“Hey Rook, if you’re done tongue fucking my friend can we do our sound check now?”

The two of you stop kissing and look down to see Colson smiling at the two of you, phone in hand, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You were on such a high from your make out session with Rook that it took you a second to realize that Colson was filming the two of you. Rook immediately noticed you tense up and put his hand on the small of your back, trying to calm you down.

“Kells are you filming this shit?”

“Hell yeah dude, I’m live right now, I want to make sure that we have a video of this so we can play this shit at your fucking wedding!”

You groan and put your head in your hands, knowing that Colson’s video of you and Rook was definitely going to cause an onslaught of articles written about the two of you. And just as you were about to reach for your beer, as if it was clockwork, your phone began buzzing like crazy.

You sighed looking back up at Rook, who was still looking down at you, watching you with worried eyes, with his hand on your back.

“It’s all over the websites isn’t it?”

“You bet your ass it is! What in God’s name were you thinking? You’re a pop star for fuck’s sake not some groupie! I told you that you should’ve just stayed home! I knew that you were gonna do something to mess all of our hard work up!”

You didn’t know if it was the fact that you were 2 or 3 beers in, or if it was the fact that you still felt a buzz of electricity coursing through your veins but you had enough of this bullshit publicist and were ready to actually put them through a fucking grave like everyone thought you would.

You stood up, grabbing your beer, holding your finger up to Rook, signalling for him to give you a minute before walking away slightly so that you were behind a wall, safe from prying eyes and Colson’s drunk livestream.

“Listen up you little shit, I’m sick and tired of you thinking that I will do whatever the fuck that you say, and treating me like I’m some precious pop star. When you said ‘our’ hard work I think that you misspoke because the only work that’s been done is me working my ass off, making music that I don’t even like and pretending to be someone that I’m not!”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that from now on, I’m gonna do the shit that I want, not giving a fuck about what the press will say in the stupid fucking interviews and...you’re fired.”

“Wha-”

“Tell my manager to find me a better fucking publicist.”

You end the call, before leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“Should I call the police to report a murder?”

You look to your side and see Rook looking at you with worried eyes.

“I think that I might have to throw away my phone to get rid of the evidence.” 

Rook chuckles before stepping in front of you and taking both of your hands in his. “You know, we never really got to finish our drum lessons.”

“So does that make me a psycho or a princess?”

“I don’t know I haven’t decided yet...I think that we need to finish where we left off first, to help me make a decision.”

You roll your eyes as the two of you connect lips once again, reigniting the sparks that were flying.

“You do know that all of the fucking websites are going to be saying that you were making out with some mystery drummer right?”

You can’t help but burst out laughing, as you wrap your arms around his neck,

“The princess and the drummer...I like the sound of that.”

-----------------

Let me know if you want a part 2 my loves :)

[taytayize123]

How one night can change your whole life ✨

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR MGK. So please I ask you fans and mutuals who love him to be kind. I hope you like it. 🙊💞

It had been a fucking shit year and a half for me given, going through health issues, doctors and nurses that truly didn’t give a shit about how you felt about treatment where they’d just throw endless amounts of pills at you when you clearly tell them that you’ve done your research and other people have achieved remission through eating healthy, working out, and keeping anxiety low yet of course they don’t actually care how you feel. You are just there for them to get a buck out of you and keep the chain going. That whole experience had put me into two depressive meltdowns and to seek professional help by gaining a therapist. When I started therapy I began to realize how much resentment I held in about family members and past friends who’ve treated me like shit and i’m done being walked all over. A strained relationship with my mother. A barely existing relationship with my sister. The only person who seems to take interest in hearing me without having overly dramatic reactions is my dad yet, having a sit down conversation with him is hard so often I got left on my own. My solace in life is music and lately it had been one man that I kept going back to when I was feeling defenseless, stressed, not good enough etc. That was Machine Gun Kelly aka Colson Baker I had really taken a liking to Hotel Diablo about a year ago, something about him had intrigued me so much that I needed to hear every song and lyric. While I may have not struggled with poverty or coming from a broken home as he did, I related to his inability to express emotions the way he needed to be okay in life so he then found an outlet to channel all that rage, anger, sadness, sacredness etc into something that was not only powerful but got him out of that life of struggle, yet it also created new issues for him like finding out who his real friends are in life. Anyways, when he rapped or sang it made me say to myself; “Peyton you are gonna be okay.” an actually believing that for the first time in awhile. 

While, vibing hard to Kells listening to every album as well as learning all the lyrics by heart. Started to develop favorites of his, my attitude started changing as I dove deeper into his music and overall personality. I began to appreciate how he simply didn’t care if he pissed off people as he was being his true self in the process I began to have the confidence in myself to put up or shut up and really stop letting those around me walk all over me and tell them no when they ask me to do something for them knowing they aren’t ever gonna return the favor or assuming I should do something for them just cause I’m family that’s bullshit. Within, this new feeling that i was experience maybe a little good karma came my way because I had gotten a ticket to his latest tour. It was fate or destiny I swear to god because he sold out in my town in ten minutes flat. It felt like I was rewarding myself for really working on my self but also the angels above putting something positive in my life for the first time in a long time and I was so thankful! 

The day was here, October 13th came fast and I was so excited that I was getting this opportunity to see him live and I am stoked. Now, given that my mother asked me to use my car that day, I ended up telling her she could take it but to drop me off early at the venue and I would just chill all day before the concert. It wasn’t an issue, the venue had a hotel on the premise as well as a restaurant, bar, cute outdoor beer gardens and wooden areas to explore. I had chosen to go to the bar and order some lunch and sit up at the bar and read for awhile. 

“Hi, yes could I order the cheese burger with tots please.” I ask nicely to the bartender. She pressed the buttons on the order device and smiled back at me. “Of course. Your order should be up in a minute hun.” she said in a pleasant tone and walked off. I had put my purse up on the counter and dug out my book which happened to be a book about Jimi Hendrix and his life. I’ve always been drawn to musical types I guess, my want for caring for those who struggle and need support somehow has always been attached to people I find interesting. “Here you go love,” the bartender places down my order and my drink as I thank her nicely and turn my page popping a tot into my mouth getting lost in the words yet it stops when I hear

“Do you mind if I sit here?” 

I don’t even look up from my book, and nod happily. As I pick up my drink to take a sip I look up and see him. Machine Gun Kelly sitting next to me. My heart started beating a thousand times a minute but my brain tells my body to PLAY IT COOL. As I smile at him he smiles back,  Hi. I’m Colson, what’s your name? and what are you reading?” he asks me  peeking at my book. “It’s a book about Jimi Hendrix. I am really big into music and just find people who do something in the music field interesting plus he was one of the best guitarists in the world. I’m Peyton nice to meet you.” I say, slowly swallowing still trying to keep my voice even yet on the inside I was FREAKING OUT rightfully so I think. He grins at me as his order arrives, “Yeah, he was an inspiration to me to start playing guitar.” he says picking up his burger and taking a bit. He puts it back down. Noticing a bit of ketchup on his chin I let out a little giggle as I hand him a napkin. He lets out a boastful laugh, “Oh thanks hun, damn where are my manners eating like a savage in front of a pretty girl like yourself.” I look down at the floor. “Nah, I’m not pretty I’m sure you’ve met prettier girls than me.” I say, my happy upbeat tone dropping to one of unsure and self doubt. Still looking at the floor, as I feel fingertips on my chin. He brings my face up to look at his. “Peyton, you are pretty, even beautiful there’s something so real and authentic in your eyes and that is true beauty.” he spoke with such a low but meaningful expression. Staring into those kind blue eyes of his as he is looking back at mine an explosion of a unnameable feeling is spread throughout my whole body. I let out a shy giggle even letting out a short snort, which I snapped back to reality I groaned putting my face in my hands. Colson lets out another sweet chuckle, as he pulls my hands away from my face now holding them in his. “Stop it Peyton, that what you just did was adorable. I have to ask you, will you come back to our backstage area so we can keep talking. There is this pull to you and I can’t figure it out but I need to know more about you. Please.” He spoke with such a gentle tone as his eyes pleaded with mine looking for any hint of a positive answer. I smiled, “Of course, I’ll go with you Colson. Let me pay and we can go.” I said, fishing in my purse for my wallet as I took it out. He already handled the bartender his black amex card and she had cleared the purchase. I stand up in my wedged heels bringing my short 5′3 ass to maybe 5′6, still only coming up to his mid chest looking up at him. “Colson you didn’t have to do that.” I whined, once again Colson cracks another grin looking down at me. “You’re just so adorable. Good thing I don’t mind a bit of whining you’ll learn when to or not.” he smirks at me as he cracks a dirty joke making me laugh again. We turn to leave the restaurant, his hand intertwined with mine. His hands are strong, calloused; years of playing guitar and holding a microphone for hours on end. Fingers wrapping into mine. His other hand firmly placed on the small of my back guiding me which way to go. I thought to myself, as I walked with him; “Whatever will be tonight will be and live life to the fullest.” as the lyrics from his song 27 floored my brain. 

“ Yeah, forever young, though, haha Always be those crazy kids running wide-eyed down the boulevard, huh 27.” 💞 

[callmethehunter]

New Chapter of Maggie and Robert ! It’s pretty long, but I hope it keeps your attention. I promise to make the other ones shorter. ..Your reward? A surprise ending and lots of NSFW.😉 I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖Check out my master post (which I didn’t know how to make- lol) It has the previous chapters . 

Here’s a quick Recap of the end of Chapter 5: What was that obnoxious pounding noise? An incessant banging that pulled her out of her heavenly dream with a jolt. She found herself still on the balcony, laying on the chaise lounge where she now realized she had fallen asleep. Robert’s kiss had felt so real… More loud knocking and curse words from the other side of the front door, which she had inadvertently locked after letting Kathy out.

 “What the fuck, Maggie? ” Steve shouted, punctuating each word with a bang on the door.”Open the door!” Bang Bang Bang. 

And with that, the last vestiges of her dream disappeared like a misty fog that hovers over a darkened ocean. She sighed, disappointed by her reality. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and walked wearily to open the door. Maggie opened the door to let Steve in. —————————————————————– 

New: Chapter 6 Double Trouble 

I told you not to be locking the front door.” Steve brushed past her carrying a large grocery bag. She caught a glimpse of plastic bags inside and knew that he had re-upped in preparation for the show. His people would be in search of some good party favors and he meant to provide them. At a nice profit for himself, of course. Having them rely on him to get high made him feel he held the power. 

Maggie tried to tune Steve out as he recounted how he’d taken the boat from the Bahia Mar marina while Carlos stood by helpless to stop him. The way he told it you would have thought he was part of an elite commando unit. 

“Man, it was like taking candy from a baby…I mean I had to slap him a couple times so he’d give me the deed and key”, he boasted. “He threatened to call the cops, what an idiot! but you know what? Even at the end he was still pleading with me, telling me all kinds of sob stories… like I care, ” Steve said. 

Maggie felt uneasy as she pictured the scene. In an effort to change the subject and lighten the mood, she asked “Did you find all the boat supplies you were looking for? 

“Yea,” he said without elaborating. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and sauntered over to her, taking a long swig and peering at her over the bottle. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. 

Oh, here we go, she thought. He walked over to where she was standing and gave her ass a firm slap. Maggie cringed inwardly, feeling no attraction but annoyance. Making love to Steve seemed repulsive to her, especially after her pleasant dream of Robert was so rudely interrupted while in mid-kiss. She started toward the bathroom and said “Hey let’s save it for the boat…it’s already 6 o’clock and I’ve got to shower and get ready to go… and so do you.” 

But Steve was not easily diverted and he came up behind her, encircled her waist and pulled her back so that her ass and his crotch were in contact. Maggie reached for his hands at her waist and twirled around. She gave him a playful look, “Steve, really… we don’t have much time. Let’s wait to christen the boat the right way”. 

“Whatever, Maggie…It’s like I gotta beg you to let me touch you these days”. He grumbled as he went to sit on the couch to nurse both his beer and his ego. “Fuck all that…” he continued. 

She tuned Steve out; she was existing minute by minute until she could lay eyes on Robert; somehow get him to give her a second chance. If only she had just gone to the hotel with him instead of caring about getting home that night! Why had she told him about Steve? She could kick herself for that. Doubts came flooding into her mind. What if he didn’t even give her the time of day? There were bound to be girls all over him and eager to bed him… Oh no, don’t think like that, she told herself. Positive thoughts Maggie, positive thoughts. 

She jumped in the shower filled with anticipation, realizing excitedly that every minute that ticked by was another minute closer to Robert. Her heart skipped a beat. She was already a bundle of nerves. 

Steve gave her the silent treatment as he got ready. He weighed the weed, separated it and placed it in baggies of different sizes so as to have the right amount readily available to slip to his customers. He cut up the sheets of acid into squares and shoved those into cellophane wrap in his leather pouch. While Steve tended to his business, 

Maggie applied a little make-upto accentuate her amber eyes and lush lashes. She put gloss to her full lips and blush on her high cheekbones, which were a testimony to her heritage that spanned all the way back to the Taino Indians. The off-white mini-dress hugged her curves and the high platform sandals elongated her tanned legs. Even she could see her exotic beauty reflected as she gazed into the mirror. She smoothed her dress with her hands, took one last look and thought, Well, here it goes. 

Soon they were in the Camaro headed toward the boat which Steve had already docked at the back of Tugboat Annies after leaving Carlos. He had chosen a corner spot, so as to minimize the number of prying eyes as he served his customers. 

As they entered the venue, her eyes quickly scanned the crowd for any sign of Robert. The place was popular with the locals and she spotted several of Steve’s friends and customers. Good!, she thought, the more people around Steve, the better her chances to be free from his scrutiny. 

Every table in the front area was taken, and there were only a few seats left at the L-shaped bar. As they got closer to the outside patio, it was standing room only. There were tall cocktail tables interspersed and she was able to claim a spot next to one. Steve followed her, carrying two drinks and handed her one. Close behind him came Kathy who had just arrived. She looked amazing in her halter top and jeans. 

“Hey you two! Hows’ it going?”, Kathy asked as she reached them. Steve looked her from top to bottom, his gaze came to rest on her chest for a second too long. That little shit, she thought, and right in front of Maggie, too. He was such a prick. 

Steve’s lecherous perusal of Kathy did not go unnoticed. Not only had it been blatant, it was also not the first time he had checked other women out with Maggie present. Maggie didn’t feel any jealousy. She simply rolled her eyes and motioned for Kathy to come over by her side.

“So where is this Robert person? Have you seen him yet?” Kathy whispered excitedly to Maggie.They both looked toward the small stage set up among the palm trees and the lush tropical plants that grew close to the docks. The small decorative lights and candles made the space festive. Suddenly, Maggie’s heart actually skipped a beat as she noticed Robert checking on the mic and laughing with a burly dark haired guy who was tinkering with the drums. 

She was riveted, unable to move as she took him in… Roberts muscular torso was encased in a flowing fabric, a woman’s blouse it was…her eyes traveled south more slowly, relishing the skin-tight, red and white striped pants that could barely contain his bulge. The vertical lines somehow seemed to converge and draw even more attention to his crotch. By God, she could make out the outline of his cock and the roundness of his balls as clear as day. His virility was in full display, a feast for the eyes. And her body was hungry for it. Her breath caught in her throat and she exhaled sharply, her eyes eager to continue their journey down the musculature of his thighs…those strong legs had held them both up as they made love the night they met. 

“Kathy!, there he is”, she cocked her head “he’s at the mic talking with the drummer!”. 

Kathy’s jaw dropped as her eyes traveled the same route as Maggie’s…and she said under her breath “Oh my God, he’s…gorgeous…!” 

The lights on the stage and the patio dimmed, signaling the concert was about to start. Steve leaned in to say “Come on, Maggie, let’s go to the boat… there’s people waiting on me. Gotta make some cash’ he winked at her, “and bring Kathy with ya”. 

Maggie smiled and said, “Yea, sure, let me get another drink and use the bathroom, we’lll be over soon”. He’d forget all about it and lose track of time once he started showing off the boat and shooting the shit with his so-called friends. 

Maggie grabbed Kathy by the arm as they made their way through the crowd. They claimed a spot near the stage, dead center. She hoped to make eye contact, to make sure he knew she was there. Her mind conjured up scenarios for later… 

Soon after, Robert came out from the side of the stage to stand in the limelight. He shone with an inner light, or so it seemed. They started the set with the song he’d sang to her on the beach. Occasionally, he threw his head back, caressing the mic as if it were his lover. She couldnt’ help but stare at his ample bulge, clearly outlined through the striped fabric. He thrashed around, stretching the mic cord taut in front of him, moving his hips and arching his back. The better to accentuate his considerable endowment. How she ached to have him in her hands and then her mouth…but first things first. She must find a way to connect with him. 

Halfway through first set, Robert looked out into the audience and saw a familiar face. It was Maggie, that beautiful gem of a girl that he had met on the beach. How could he forget the luscious love they made? And how could he forget that she’d turned down his invitation to go back to his hotel? Now, she was staring at him and swaying to the rhythm. 

As they locked eyes, Maggie felt a flutter in her stomach and a tightness in her chest…her cheeks felt warm. She was blushing. As she listened to Robert’s voice amplified through the speakers, she happened to catch sight of Steve laughing with someone. 

The passion in Robert’s voice reverberated to her core. Steve had become a faint and distant speck in the horizon of her mind, totally inconsequential. She felt no allegiance to him or to his mean spirit. She wanted nothing more than to be back in Robert’s arms, sheltered in his warm embrace. 

During the intermission, Robert went down to the side bar. The cold beer he washed down soothed and seemed to lubricate his vocal chords. A pack of girls descended upon him, each girl competing for his attention. And he bantered with them, laughing and being his usual flirtatious self. But in truth, he was distracted, his eyes searching for Maggie. Robert located her. 

Her dark hair was set off magnificently by the off-white dress that hugged her every curve. As he watched her he imagined his hands around that small waist, bending her over while he entered from behind. He had to have her.. he would have her. Tonight. 

Robert gracefully extracted himself from the group of girls and walked towards Maggie. As he got closer, he motioned for her to follow him as he headed towards the back of the venue, where the bathrooms were located. Maggie trailed close behind. 

One of the single bathrooms was vacant and Robert stood by the door, waiting for Maggie. He reached for her hand and led her inside, quickly locking the door behind him, He was the hunter and she was his prey, albeit a willing one. 

“I didn’t think you’d come… but I’m so glad you did, Maggie.” his blue eyes were stormy with desire as he pinned her against the sink kissing her mouth, feeling her up. His movements were fast and furious. 

Maggie caught sight of his obvious excitement which was made even more evident when he pressed himself against her. His large hands held the back of her head, pulling her to his lips and caressing her hair. His touch ignited a fire within her as he slid his hands down her back so as to lift the hem of her mini-dress. 

“You wore this dress just for me didn’t you?” He asked with a smirk, as he kneaded her ass with both hands and ground his hips into hers.“You know it baby… for easy access” she replied. 

She felt his rigid length through the thin striped fabric. Her hands reached down to cup his balls, giving them a good squeeze…massaging his cock and quickly working the zipper, to reveal her magic prize. Maggie felt herself getting wet as she admired him, half naked in front of her. They groped each other urgently. He kissed her hard, while at the same time he pushed the lace of her panties to the side and glided two fingers into her wet core. In and out, then rubbing her folds.

“You are so ready” he said huskily, as he quickly twirled her around so she was facing the mirror. 

He bent her over the vanity, her breasts rubbing against the hard, cold marble, she saw the scene reflected in the mirror. Robert was standing behind her, still clothed in the silky blouse, but completely naked from the waist down, one hand pushing down on the small of her back, and the other guiding his thick cock to her entrance…she felt the hot tip of his manhood plunge into her, filling her to capacity in one deep thrust. Her eyes flew open from the sensation as he let out a moan. 

She would forever remember the vision of Robert behind her, thrusting, grinding his hips, his stomach tensing, and his hands wrapped firmly around her waist. He guided her up and down his rigid length.They picked up the pace, fast and furious, his balls slapping against her ass as he thrust all 10 inches into her. 

“Give it to me” she gasped. She felt as if she was climbing on a rollercoaster, higher and higher until suddenly there was an intense, exhilarating release; wave after wave of ecstasy. 

Maggie was so tight and his girth was enveloped by her warm walls. “It’s so good, dariling, so good… I’m gonna… “ he groaned and plunged deeper and harder -creating an immense heat. He knew he was right behind her as he felt her contract. This pushed him over the precipice. He moaned and thrust one last time as his essence filled her. His legs shook. 

She saw him in the mirror, eyes half closed in pleasure as he bent over and laid his chest on her back. Spent. He swept her hair away from the nape of her neck so as trail soft kisses.. He was draped over her, his soft, golden curls tickling her back…and she liked – a lot. 

At that exact moment, a nondescript van sat parked outside Tugboat Annie’s. Two undercover cops had their binoculars trained on the vessel emblazoned on the back with the name “Double Trouble. They watched a stream of people coming in and out. Someone was brazen enough (or stupid enough) to take out a bag of marijuana and roll a joint right out in the open. Carlos, their informant, had been right, there was definitely dealing going on here. They readied themselves to go inside and take a closer look.

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A Guns an’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 13: Halion

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. In a desperate attempt to make it big doing what she does, she cuts her hair and mascardes as Duff. What’s the wors that could happen?

Chapter Summary: Michelle/Duff realizes how fragile her lie is.

(Masterlist)

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @queen-crue @achiweyow @bitter-13-suite @white-lightning-625

I wouldn’t be lying when I said that I thoroughly enjoyed the limo ride that Walter’s father had paid for to drive us to dinner. I almost felt like a rockstar. ALMOST.

As I sat in one of the bright red leather seats drinking a glass of champagne, I could still feel the silk fabric of my periwinkle A-line dress slowly tightening around me. It was almost snakelik. I was it’s prey, and it was getting ready to go in for a kill. The more I moved, talked, or laughed the tighter it felt.

Luckily for me, this wasn’t the first time I wore a tight fitting dress. I was a child of the strip, I was in Pixie, tight clothing was nothing new to me. This though, this was different.

I fidgeted with the headband that was strategically hiding the hairline to my now brown wig. Earlier that day, Macy had come home from work and dyed the wig for me knowing full well that bright blue hair would put Walter’s father in a foul mood. We had worked so hard to stay on his good side, and we weren’t going to throw all of that away because of a stupid wig.

There is no possible way for me to simply describe Walter’s father. He is a rather odd man, but odd in an overly professional way. He is a lawyer at a record company, and his job was focused on making sure the record company wouldn’t get sued. So yes, his uncle hated rock stars and countless lawsuits they would cause by bei absolute unprofessional idiots.

Before you ask, yes I had thought of using him as a connection for getting a record deal, but as I said before he really hates rockstars.

If he ever asked, I worked at a coffee shop and was not a part of a band. If you asked him, I actually hated rock music and didn’t play any instrument. I was the quiet and shy coffee barista who would one day marry a husband and raise a happy little family with two children, a boy and a girl. It was a beautiful lie. It was a simple life that I could have one time chosen, but it wasn’t for me. I knew I had to take the risk of becoming a rockstar; otherwise, I would regret it and live as a shadow of myself for the rest of my life.

Macy gently tapped me on the side with her elbow. I sent her a warm smile as a thanks for bringing me back to reality. I quickly looked back and forth, earning a confused look from everyone in the limo.

“Sorry, just zoned out for a couple minutes,” I faked a giggle in an attempt to soften the blow that I had actually grown incredibly bored of their conversation.

“No worries,” Henry cooed as he gently pushed the hair that was cascaded in front of my shoulder to behind it.

It was a sweet gesture, but it wasn’t entirely welcomed. Ever since the day in the music store where Steven practically told Henry that Izzy and I had fucked in the closet of the music store, Henry seemed to be acting like we were dating. Henry’s annoying actions were worth the price though, and I would do it again with Izzy if I had the chance.

Was it impulsive? Yes.

Was it immature? Yes.

Was it stupid? Yes.

Would I do it again without any hesitation? Yes.

“We’re here,” Henry said, guiding me out of the limo.

It was a beautiful venue. I noticed some paparazzi standing outside the door, creeping through the windows trying to get a picture of some celebrity that was probably trying to mind their own business inside.

That was the part of fame I didn’t look forward to. I had heard stories of some musicians breaking paparazzi cameras or telling them of fuck off. I couldn’t blame them. They just wanted their privacy, something rockstars or any celebrity would never get.

I felt a flash towards our direction quickly followed by some shouting. Panic flooded my bones as I stood paralyzed by the blinding lights. After a couple of deep breaths, I calmed myself down. Once I had collected myself, I looked over to see the questions were thrown at Walter’s father and not me. As quickly the panic had come, it left. All I had to do was follow Henry into the restaurant.

“Is it true that Halion, the rock stars who made your career, have walked away from the record company to pursue better options?” I heard a man yell amongst the small crowd.

Before we could enter the building, Walter’s uncle replied, “First off, they did not make my career. I have been doing this long before they were even born. Second of all, yes they left the company due to creative differences. There are no hard feelings, and we wish them the best.”

Walter’s father was the embodiment of class as he talked to them and shortly headed inside afterwards. This couldn’t have been the first time he had dealt with this. We then were able to sit down at a table that was decorated with elegant silverware and a deep purple tablecloth. Elegance was an understatement, I felt like a queen as I sat down at the table.

“Vultures, bunch of damn vultures,” I froze as Walter’s father cussed under his breath. So there was definitely more to the story of Halion leaving the band, and I would bet my bass that nothing that came out of his mouth was true when he was talking to the paparazzi.

It’s kinda poetic that Halion was one of the bands his record company watched over. Not only did I used to date the bassist, but Halion was a rock band from Sunset Stip. Heroes isn’t a word you would use to describe them because they were far worse that Motley Crue when it came to how they interacted with groupies, and sadly I had to learn the hard way. Despite their tendencies, which are common amongst rockstars, many of the bands on the strip still looked up to them. Why? Because they made it big. Even Pixie used to look up to them, once again, despite them being incredibly sexist.

“Don’t worry father, they’re just desperate to know about company business because they are talentless swines who can only leach off of others,” the air was caught in my lungs once Walter finished speaking. I forgot that I wasn’t the only one wearing a mask. While Walter was never the outgoing funny guy like Steven, he still was nice and had a good heart, to an extent. It was clear that Walter had expectations that his father had put onto him. I don’t know who I pitied more, him or me. My mind slowly wandered toward the thought of my own parents. What would they think of what I’m doing? Would they scream at me? I’ve done worse before, maybe I’d be okay?

I continued to look over the menu and attempt to not gawk at the prices. It was rather clear that between the 5 of us, we were going to spend more money than the price of my monthly rent for the apartment.

“Does anyone plan on ordering seafood tonight?” I couldn’t sense the poison or frustration that once laced Walter’s fathers words as he spoke. We all shook our head no, and he ordered some wine that apparently would pair well with our steaks.

I didn’t protest as the waiter poured me a glass. Yes, I wasn’t 21, but I didn’t complain. I had my fake on me, if I was asked but part of me was hesitant to use it. Had Walter’s father forgotten how much younger I was than his son? Granted it was only a couple of years, but I was 20...not 21.

Laughter erupted from the entrance of the restaurant, and when I looked to see who was the source of it, my stomach twisted. As if they were Beetlejuice, Halion was currently being led to a table not too far from the one I sat at. I made sure to keep my eyes on the menu as they sat down three tables over. To the naked eye, someone might not notice it, but I had personally been with Halion enough when they were trying to hide their drunken state. Part of me wondered how long they would last here before they would get kicked out. Wouldn’t be the first time they were ‘asked to leave’ as the waiters would put it.

I shot a quick glance over towards Halion as they sat at their table with what appeared to be groupies at their side. Like I said earlier, they were classic rockstars. My heart sunk as I recognized two of the faces of the girls who were draped over Halion’s shoulders. Despite the makeup she wore, covering her entire face, and the new clothing that left little to the imagination, I recognized her. No matter how much Betsy changed herself, I would still recognize her. It had only been a couple weeks since Guns N’ Roses took their gig, but even Cindy who was draped around the lead singer of Halion had changed too.

It was only for a moment, but when I locked eyes with Betsy my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I don’t know why the tears began to fight the dams I had built to keep them in.

Not here, I couldn’t cry here.

I couldn’t cry in front of Walter’s father because he would want to know why I was crying. If he had found out that I was a part of a band, he would evict me.

I shared a quick glance with Macy, who sent a concerned look my way. Not only were two member of Pixie here, but one of them was draped across my ex-boyfriend, someone who I foolishly believed could make my dreams come true.

I took a couple deep breaths before I spoke, excusing myself from the table and heading towards the nearest bathroom. I felt his eyes on me as I weaved through the restaurant. I felt Nyx’s bright blue eyes on me.

The moment the bathroom door closed behind me, shielding from the world, I leaned over the bathroom counter with only my hands supporting me.

I couldn’t tell what hurt worse, the fact that Betsy was draped around my ex-boyfriend or what she had turned herself into. Gone was the powerful kick ass drummer. She was reduced to nothing more than a groupie who barely wore clothing. I was honestly surprised that Cindy and her were let into the restaurant.

I internally cursed at myself when I heard the bathroom door open. I should have locked it. I looked over to see Betsy locking it behind her. It was clear she didn’t want us disturbed.

“What? Are you afraid that your new boyfriend will be walking in on us? You know it wouldn’t be the first time he walked into a woman’s restroom,” I snapped at her, keeping my voice hushed.

“When people asked you if he a tualy did that, you denied it!” Betsy shot back in a voice mimicking mine. I could tell that she wasn’t mad about that, but she was directing her anger through it anyway.

“Well of course I did. He would have broken up with me if I didn’t.”

“Ohh Michelle, you’re more pathetic that I thought you were,” I didn’t have to look at Betsy to know that she was rolling her eyes at me.

I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped my lips and now filled the bathroom.

“Me? Pathetic? He promised me that Pixie would open for them for their next tour!” I shot back. I knew I was acting like a totally bitch, but I didn’t care.

“Hmm, but we didn’t open for them.”

I looked over at her as she flashed a smirk at me.

“You’re a real fucking bitch.”

“I’m nothing compared to you,” she spat back, but now it was my turn to send a stupid smirk her way.

“Of course you are nothing compared to me. You never have been and you never would be,” I shot back.

Silence once again filled the bathroom. The only noise that could be heard was the muted conversations from the restaurant that was beyond a door. The conversations that felt like a world away.

I watched as Betsy slowly walked towards me and whispered into my ear, “Don’t forget that I know your dirty little secret. With only one sentence I can destroy EVERYTHING you have ever worked for. I’m currently dating Nyx, the bassist of Halion. I’m sure you’re familiar with how much sway he holds. All I have to do is whisper that one sentence into his ear, and you’re done. You think your name has been run through the mud before? Just wait until I’m finished with you! The funny thing is that people will believe anything I saw about you. Your reputation as a whore is already well known, so any little lie would be believable. Now the question is, do I start small with the little white lies or do I go straight to the big bombshell and work my way from there? Maybe I’ll start with Izzy, you two seem close. Trust me when I say that I will take great pleasure in watching your life crumble to pieces.”

I stood speechless as I watched her leave the bathroom, laughing.

Was this the beginning of the end? Was she really going to tell everyone that I was masquerading as a guy on Sunset Strip? Was she going to tell the world I was Duff?

With Nyx at her side, she had the power to destroy everything I had ever created. I once again held onto the bathroom countertop. Not only to help stop the shaking, but to make sure I wouldn’t collapse on the ground.

Bottom line I was fucked.

[writingforyourpleasure]

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Characters: GERARD WAY x Reader 

 Link to chapter four :   https://writingforyourpleasure.tumblr.com/post/616411340391759872/on-the-road-again

Warnings : None 

 Author’s note: Hello ! Hope you’re all doing okay during those strange times ? Sorry for not posting but I had my en-of-the-year exam, but it’s now done and , I only got a few homework to hand-over now and my second year in college’ll be done !Here you go thank you to keep reading .

5.      “ Pun-master “

  You woke up, feeling something or someone moving in front of you . You started to groan at the uncomfortable feeling not wanting to get up just yet.

“And what owe me the pleasure to be assisted by your presence tonight sir Way?” You said while looking for plates.

The mass finally moved away , listening to your complains .

You woke up what felt just five minutes later but probably was in reality hours after it. Your eyes fluttered slowly as if they were disconnected from your brain. A light shine from the outside was peeking through your tinted window as soon as you truly started to wake up , you realized that Gerard wasn’t here anymore.

“Right…” You breathed out to yourself. Honestly you didn’t want to wake up. You were scared , scared of overthinking this , and because of that you actually was overthinking it . Your brain wasn’t playing on your favor . You didn’t knew how you were gonna survive today. The worst was, you didn’t knew how to act with Gerard , what happened yesterday night wasn’t that big of a deal, really , but again ; you were overthinking it . You just wanted to act normal with him , and was prying your brain to not let you down once you’ll see him. You felt so stupid for having a crush on one of your coworker and friends. You got up and hoped for the best.

You got out of your nest , only to find that you were alone in the bus and that you already had arrived into the next parking’s venue . You went directly to the kitchenette and groaned realized that you guys were short on coffee. You finally resigned yourself and went for the shower.

You got out of the bus a dozen of minutes later to find the parking lot empty except for the security that was already keeping everything on check. You checked your phone to see that it was 3pm . You had enough time, to get yourself a coffee somewhere and not stressing about when to comeback since you didn’t had to repeat with Dex or anything. You put back in your , old black Green Day’s hoodie, pocket your phone . You’ve dressed yourself as unfashionable as it is socially allowed , your laziness was clearly reflecting itself through most of your actions today. You put your headphones on , listening to the last Fever 333’s album and searched on google maps for the nearest Starbucks, once again a reflect of your laziness you figured.

You arrived to the welcoming smell of dirty beans being ground and hot milk.

Once you got your order you looked around for a seat since the place was pretty full, luckily you got one in front of the glass and on both sides what appeared to be two couples . Great. You hope that you’ll be lucky and won’t have to witness the same amount of smooshing in both of them. The teenage one , on your right , were the ones all over each other, with the boy groping at every part accessible of his what-you-presumed-to-be his girlfriend. The one on your left were two men in suits holding each other hands while talking , you sat facing the widow and the other empty seat. You got out of your backpack your sketch book and a pencil starting to draw people passing by while music took you in other world. A tap on your shoulder took you of guard , you got off your headphones .

“Yes ?” you turned around your head to see who was trying to get your attention.

“Hey, is this seat taken ?” Dex was smiling down at you with a big smile.

You said nothing instead kicking the seat in front of you, back to the glass for them to seat.

“I feel like it’s been a while since we talked .” Dex said sitting and looking expectantly at you.

“What are you talking ‘bout we talked just yesterday.” You said not looking up from your sketch book.

“Don’t play dumb y/n , you know what I mean. Like just the two of us ?” Dex sighed , seeing that you decided to not play cooperative . This time you did look up to your friend with a blank expression . Watching their eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It’s true , lately you tried to somewhat distance yourself since you were trying to figure out what the hell was happening with Gerard and you knew that being close to Dex would not help one second . Your friend knew how to read you even when you tried to hide something as well as you could. You had thinked that if Dex was about to ask questions it would make it weird since you were all working together . If you fucked up at any moments , you’ll have nowhere to hide and sometimes it can be a great deal of pain . But apparently you didn’t succeed not to make it awkward since your friend was not so happy that you act a little colder than usual . You were already fucking cold to any strangers , so to be cold to them was shitty. You sighed and run a hand through your now greasy hair . You needed to take a shower quickly , maybe it could wait after the show .

“Hey earth to y/n, hellooo?”

“Huh yeah sorry I was gone for a few…”

“Yeah no shit .”

“Sorry… like for all of it it’s true I’ve been kinda avoiding you guys.”

“Meh it happens , I mean it’s okay we all got our own problems.”

Dex tried to stay warm inside of the Starbucks but you could sense that being against a cold ass window wasn’t helped them to get the warmth that provided the Starbucks.

“I’m so cold….” They whispered as they took a gulp from their drink.

“Well….then stand in a corner .” You replied taking a large gulp of your hot drink too.

“What-Why ?”

“Think..”

“No….. please tell me it’s not because of what I think dude.”

“Coz’ corners are 90 degrees.” You said with a smug smile.

“Ho god …. Ok you know what maybe it’s for the best to be socially distant haha. It is so bad please do not do that again?”

“You’re asking way to much to the pun master .”

“More like the master of fucking nothing y’mean .”

“What did you said peasant , I think I didn’t quite hear that ?”

“Ho nothing .” said your friend smiling like a fool.

“Y/N I’m still fucking cold !” Said your friend trying to warm themselves up by rubbing strongly their arms.

“And how is that my problem , my dear?”

“Someday I really am going to kill you , y’know?” Told Dex between their teeth, with a little grunt along the way.  

“Y/N , Can I borrow your scarf? I’m seriously freezing. ”

“Well I can’t turn into a heater for you now can I? So do you want me to set you on fire? Because, I mean it’s still an option? Like I have my lighter right here so….?” You joked while giving them your scarf.

They gave you a warning glance as if they believed you . Then on a very exasperate note they sighed and said :

“Why are you like this?”              

You both laughed at that getting some curious looks from other clients. Once both of calmed down you try to get serious talking about the elephant in the room .

“Hey , can I ask your advice on something?”

“Absolutely , but I only advise communication, homosexuality, or murder.” Answered your friend earning a smug know-it-all smile out of you.

You were about to start to get off of your chest the whole “Hey I think I may or may not like the lead singer of the band for which we’re working for.” They cut you off.

“WAIT!”

“Yeah ?”

“Are you absolutely positive this isn’t dangerous or something?” They looked very serious about this , which had the reflex to make you roll your eyes deep inside your skull.

“I’m 95% sure, but yeah, I’ve failed fourth grade math so…” You decided to answer her stupid question with a stupid answer.

“Ho okay then we’re good I failed second grade! So just before we start , how long will this take ? I got to pick up my dog at the salon. «You both laughed at that. «No but like seriously we’ll have to go back to the bus eventually . Maybe tell me along the way back?”

“Alright , alright” You both got up from your seats and finally got out of the Starbucks.

“So huh, you remember when we got the 1 week break , alright?”

“Right. “

“Well huh, me and Gerard started talking by text pretty often during this time.”

“Ho. Did you now ?” They said waving their eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“No not like that calm down, you demon fuck .”

“Always a pleasure to fill my responsibilities.”

“You weirdo….” You whispered under your breath.

“Ho do not act if you aren’t even weirder man ! “

“Anyway, I just , I don’t know . I think, I think I may like him y’know?”

“Well it’s pretty comprehensible , I mean he’s hot .”

“I’m not talking about this you twat!”

“Ho c’mon you can’t say he isn’t !”

“Haha ,He is , I ‘ve sight too I’d let you know. It’s just not the point here .”

“You do? Sorry it’s hard to tell when you dress yourself like that .

“You bitch!” You choked on your drink , coughing violently.

“I’m just kind of dreading to really assuming the whole ‘hey by the way I’m hitting on you’ I don’t want to make it weird during the tour , when we’re not even at the half of it. And I don’t wish for everyone to see that I am hitting on him. I’m not ready.” You explained to Dex , not really wanting to expose everything you and Gerard said or do , foremost because there’s not that much to say

“Maybe not hitting on him is a good call since if you do I’m pretty sure he’s gonna freak out hearing your lame puns.”

“May I recall to you that I’m the pun-master AND the master of pickup lines ?”

“You completely suck at pickup lines, bro.”

“No I don’t !”

“The last time you tried one of you’re pickup lines was on this poor cute girl in Louisiana when you said ‘Are you Google –“

“CUZ YOU’RE EVERYTHING I’M SEARCHING FOR !!!”

“Yeah no wonder it didn’t worked !”

“I’m a genius , you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“You wish . So why are you’re feeling attracted to the guy ?”

“Well you see my kink is when people actually care about my feelings and what I have to say. And Since I know him he seems to correspond to this criteria , so I find it pretty attractive and hot since it’s my main kink.”

“Yeah , too unrealistic. Settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

“Where you ever nice Dex ?”

“2012, worst year of my life.” You laughed at what your friend said . “No but more seriously y/n, just let it happen y’know? And when you have the feeling that both of you are having a moment then maybe hit on him but stay subtle y’know?”

“I just want him to take me out…”

“Like, on a date or with a sniper ?”

“He’ll have to surprise me .” You both laughed before changing the subject to the little surprise you’ve both had planned for Max, since he was spending all of his nights and days working on your band , you wanted to do something nice for him. You bought a cookbook a few weeks ago for him as a present for the occasion, he often baked pastries as a distressful way to exhale from work time. Even though the bus condition made it hard to cook anything big it already was a good start. And you bought some bottle of Irish hard cider, since he had said it was the best thing he ever tasted when you all took a vacation to Dex family house there. After getting back to the bus everything went pretty fast , but the talk with Dex about Gerard was still playing in your mind. Ames saw that you were lost in your thoughts most of the time and ask you several times if everything was okay, you tried to act like you didn’t knew what he was talking about and you all moved on with your day . Mikey, Frank , Gerard and Ray were already in your bus when you had come back from your coffee session, and they yelled at you for not texting them and taking them with you. You brushed it off saying that next time you would. Gerard had tried to share looks with you during the day but you were too much caught up into your head to notice.

The show this night was nice and almost too short even if you guys took a ten minutes on My chemical romance planning since you played a special song. Once you were backstage Ames and Billy started their routines taking everything off stage to let place for the boys. To go faster Max offered to help them. It gave you and Dex a chance to run to the bus to prepare your little plan. You took any cushions , pillow and anything fluffy you could find , when you were done the bunks were quite a mess but you didn’t want to think of it since you still had to prepare the hard cider and the cake you brought from the Mark & Spencer’s not having too much time to find anything else. By the time everything was served , you knew that My chem was done with their show too , so you decided to prepare them a part too , you made a point to serve a apple juice instead of the cider for Gerard , not wanting him to feel excluded or anything. Max had been held backstage by Billy and Ames who were your dearest allies as ever.

You installed yourself with every plates and drinks giggling between the two of you alone in the bus to stupid jokes.

A knock made itself hear through the bus and Billy appeared into the kitchenette area before being followed by Ames and Max , who where looking at you with huge smiles spread across their face and a snort from the three of them.

“What the fuck did you do with our beds ?” Asked Max between a laugh.

“Well we did a pillow fort !” Answered Dex.

“Isn’t that a little childish ? “

“Does it means you don’t want to join us ?” You asked Max.

A silence swept through the bus.

“…Move over .” Said Max entering your huge pillow fort and already going for the cake and drink.

“Wait there’s a party and you guys didn’t told us about?! “Said Frank entering your bus.

You handed a plate in his direction , earning a smile from him before he arrived by your side as well as everyone else too.

Frank was on your right while Gerard was on your right and all of you were in a cercle eating and joking about stupid stuff.

“Hey you look better than this morning it’s good to see.” Whispered at your side Gerard offering a sweet smile before readjusting a few locks behind his ear.

“Well It’s because in the end we migrate towards comfort , and I realized that I am most comfortable around you , all of you.” You said returning a bright smile to the man.The night went along before Frank spoke up .

“Guys how are you gonna clean this mess to sleep tonight ?” Painful groans made themselves heard from all of you.

[wrightiverse]

Chrysanthemums

When he was drunk and maudlin, Bill Close had a phrase he used to explain why he’d never become a star: timing is everything. If he hadn’t done a certain audition right before lunch, when people were hungry and distracted. If he’d been playing the night the agent was in the bar, instead of at home babysitting. If he’d been five minutes earlier here, two hours later there, a few seconds in either direction, he’d have the life he was actually supposed to have. Bad timing. Good timing. Didn’t quite pull off the timing. Timing is everything. Glenn buys all that as a kid, but he eventually realizes that Bill only had it half right. It’s not just the bad stuff that comes down to being in the right place at the right moment. Sometimes, everything aligns to give you much more than you deserve. (Posted this on AO3 originally but we’re all in sad Close boys hours this week anyway so I may as well bring it over here. Full version below cut has references to a car accident, pregnancy, and a certain canonical death that I’m sure you can guess. It was also written before we realized that Wrightiverse Nick was trans but fuck it, why go back and have Glenn and Morgan misgender baby Nick when I don’t have to. Nick is much younger when Morgan passes in this than in the show’s canon now but canon is optional, free your mind.) 

When he was drunk and maudlin, Bill Close had a phrase he used to explain why he’d never become a star: timing is everything. If he hadn’t done a certain audition right before lunch, when people were hungry and distracted. If he’d been playing the night the agent was in the bar, instead of at home babysitting. If he’d been five minutes earlier here, two hours later there, a few seconds in either direction, he’d have the life he was actually supposed to have. Bad timing. Good timing. Didn’t quite pull off the timing. Timing is everything. Glenn buys all that as a kid, but he eventually realizes that Bill only had it half right. It’s not just the bad stuff that comes down to being in the right place at the right moment. Sometimes, everything aligns to give you much more than you deserve. *** It’s not exactly a fairytale love story. They literally meet in a dumpster.

It’s been most of a year since he told his parents to go shove their advice and their money up their respective asses, three months since the semester ended and he lost access to the dorm room and meal plan, a week since he ran out of cash, and at least 24 hours since he ate anything. Couch-surfing is keeping a roof over his head, and his friends are generous with food and booze and weed when they have any to spare, but that only goes so far. One year of college courses under his belt, no idea how to make a resume, no work history even if he did, no permanent address. The job offers aren’t exactly flooding in.

But to hell with it, Glenn Close isn’t gonna just lay down and die. He’s already cased a bakery a few blocks away and he knows they usually throw out the stuff too stale to sell around 11 p.m. He’d hoped not to have to use that info, but whatever. Someday this will make a great anecdote for his episode of Behind The Music.

Glenn hovers across the street until he sees a silhouetted figure toss a bag into the dumpster in the alley, then casually strolls over once the figure goes back inside. The sides of the dumpster are taller and have fewer handholds than he’d pictured, but he drags over some pallets and manages to climb in. It’s half empty and the bag has landed right on top, safe from the nasty trash juices that are soaking the cuffs of his jeans.

The first thing he sees when he tears the bag open is a plain bagel, and the first bite he takes is so good that he almost passes out. He’s so busy wolfing it down that he doesn’t notice the approaching steps from outside until another bag of trash flies over the top of the dumpster and bounces off his head.  

“Watch it,” he says reflexively. Then he freezes, not even chewing as he strains to listen for movement outside. Nothing. Maybe they just tossed the bag and walked back inside. He might get away with this.

“Yo, Templeton,” a voice says from outside the dumpster. “You gonna quit pretending you’re not in there, or should I close the lid?”

Glenn considers his options for a moment, but now that he comes to think of it… “Yeah, I’m realizing I don’t have anything to stand on in here. Little help?”

That’s the first time he hears her laugh. Even knowing he was the butt of the joke, he wants to hear it again. He gets his chance seconds later, when her head pops above the wall of the dumpster.

“Would you look at that? Somebody threw away a perfectly good dumbass.” Then that laugh rings out for the second time

Even his innate panache can’t overcome being hungry, chest-high in trash bags, and covered with flour. He’s humbled, and she’s amused, and that somehow turns into a connection that surprises both of them with how deep it gets and how fast.

If Glenn meets her at any other moment than that, he blows it by trying to be cool and charming. He lucked out. It’s perfect timing.

Morgan’s too good for him on any level you can name. Too cool for him, too smart, too tough, too beautiful. A better musician than him, both with the actual music and the business side. She’s the one who teaches him how to scrounge and hustle, how to read a contract’s fine print and argue with a booking agent who doesn’t want to pay up. Sometimes it feels like every other living soul on earth is elbow-to-elbow with them, fighting for the same scraps that they are, but it’s clear that Morgan’s the one in a million who’s going to make it. And he’s along for the ride, feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch alive every single damn day.    ***

***

Seven years hearing her laugh every day. Seven years getting to be the one who makes her laugh, sometimes even on purpose.

“I think we should get married,” he says one day, and she laughs in his face.

“You still think it’s more legit if the government knows about it, huh?” But she softens, because she knows what he’s actually trying to say, because of course she does. “I get it, baby. This is the real deal. In sickness and health, for better or for worse, and so forth. I’m not signing any paperwork, but you know we throw a good party. Let’s just do the fun parts. You down?”

It’s a very good party, and afterward she calls him “my husband” and they make plans to get rings. Later, if she’s tipsy and feels like teasing him, she calls him “my first husband,” and she laughs. Then she squeezes his face in her hands and gives him a kiss to make sure he understands that she’s only joking. He always knows she’s joking. He always lets her kiss him anyway.

***

Morgan spends a few days thinking she’s got food poisoning before realizing a stowaway has outwitted their precautions. Glenn’s always counted that as very good timing by Nicholas -  if that tricky little bastard shows up any earlier than he does, there’s no way Glenn even considers becoming a parent. But once they decide to go for it, it’s more fun than they’d have ever imagined. They build a lot of castles in the air together while they’re waiting to meet Nick. Glenn says he wants enough kids for a Partridge Family style band, and Morgan agrees as long as nobody plays the tambourine.

They discuss it endlessly, but finally decide a percussionist is the first priority. The closer the due date gets, the more it seems like their new bandmate agrees. Morgan grabs Glenn’s hand and puts it on her belly so he can feel the urgent kicks. “Check out this sick drum solo.”

Nick inherits his parents’ knack for knowing how to make an entrance. He’s so fashionably late that Morgan decides they should just party without him. It’s like ditching the friend who’s taking too long to get ready, except for the part where they can’t actually leave him behind. She and Glenn hit up their favorite venue that very night. The music thumps through their bodies like a pulse. The energy of the crowd makes them forget how long they’ve been waiting. And if anybody has any concerns about seeing a ridiculously pregnant woman dancing her heart out until her hair sticks to her face with sweat, they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

Fear of missing out is apparently hardwired, and Nick graciously deigns to join them a few days later. Everything changes. Three a.m. feels a lot different when you know you’ll be awake again at 4:30, and 5, and probably 7, and maybe 8 for good measure, and…

“This new guy can’t hang,” Morgan mutters. She’s standing beside the bed, Nick tucked against her shoulder, patting his back and swaying. Glenn’s sitting up in bed, trying to stay awake out of solidarity, losing the battle.

“New guy is a lightweight,” he says. “And he’s pretty nasty. That dude does not know what a toilet is for.”

“Come on, man, get it together,” Morgan says softly to the fussing figure in her arms. “We can’t take you anywhere.” Baby Nick finally burps and spits up a little onto Morgan’s shirt. A few additional angry hiccups are all he can manage before he falls asleep.

“Did you hear that?” Morgan murmurs as she lowers him into the crib. “He said he was gonna fight me. Slow your roll, new guy, you aren’t ready for this heat.”

She collapses back onto the bed next to Glenn. “I’m bluffing. He’s kicking my ass.”

“Me too,” Glenn says, “but at least we outnumber him.” ***

***

Not long after Nick’s second birthday, Morgan notices that she’s a couple of days late. It’s not a big deal, it usually doesn’t mean anything. Glenn makes a joke about the Close Family Quartet, and Morgan says she’ll grab a test when she gets groceries that weekend. But whether their lead guitarist was about to debut or still waiting in the wings, she made an amateur mistake and left things a little too late. The band broke up first. That’s show business for you.

People always want to know what happened. Glenn never gets into details. They must make up their own pictures in their head: a rain-slick curve taken too fast, a semi truck jack-knifing across the highway. It makes more sense for something like that to happen when you already know you’re in danger.

It’s the middle of the day. He’s going maybe five over the speed limit, keeping pace with traffic. He’s not high or drunk or tired or even distracted. They’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A dog runs into the road, someone swerves to miss it, someone else tries to get out of their way. Barely a fender-bender, except that their car gets just enough of a push to end up in the intersection.

Early on, he thinks a lot about how a few seconds here and there could change things.

The dog runs into the street a little later, and then the oncoming traffic isn't trying to beat a yellow light.

The dog runs into the street a little earlier, and they drive home with a scraped bumper.

But that’s Bill’s half-assed way of thinking about it, and Glenn knows better. It’s true, it could have been different. It could have been much worse.

He drives a split second slower, and the other car meets theirs with a direct hit, crumpling the back seat as well as the front with far more force than Nick’s booster seat can deflect.

He drives a split second faster, and the clipped bumper spins them into the next lane, and he never makes it to the hospital at all, and Nick doesn’t have anybody left.

Glenn knows now what his dad was talking about in those grumbling laments. It’s like trying to put together two tracks that are just slightly out of sync. Where do you snip out a piece to make things fit right again? What if you’re already balanced on that tipping point with the fewest misfortunes and the most lucky breaks? What happens if you start messing with that?

He can’t second-guess. It happened the way it happened, and he’s still here, and Nick’s still here, so he still has a job to do. He’s going to be there for Nick the whole way, along for the ride, feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch alive because he gets to be here at all. It could have gone another way. Timing is everything.

[copias-thrall]

The Band Onstage

Suey finally gets to go to a show 

(Start at the beginning)

*public sex; rough sex*

Tonight is Mary’s gig at Regency. You’d put it in your calendar, but Mary still had texted you this morning.

Mary [6:12am]: Rgcy 2nite 8

Mary [8:03am]: Guitr 6 pls

You wanted to make fun of him for forgetting the most important thing, but the only reason it’s here in the first place was so he could see you while getting in some extra play.

And it allowed you some extra play.

It’s definitely one of your horny days. No matter what you do, it seems like every position you sit in presses on your clit in a delicious way. You usually just take a nap on your lunch break, but today you’re really going to have to do something about the fact that your focus is throbbing between your legs.

At 11:59am, you slam your laptop shut and hurry into your room. It’s a veritable minefield as usual—Mary always complains about tripping over your outfit detritus (“Can you not tread all over my shit, please?!” “Christ, if you care about it so much, why is it on your floor!?”)—but it’s a controlled chaos. You rummage around for your vibrator, which could be anywhere (Mary has the tendency to just toss it when he’s done with you), but should be on your small table. Or next to your pillow. Perhaps under the bed.

After a hasty search, you finally find it when you shake out your duvet. You go to settle in—then think maybe some porn, too? Which means you have to go back out to your laptop. 

Ugh. Why is everything hard.

You shuffle back out to your living area and quickly get your viewing pleasure set up. The video starts, and you spread your legs, pressing the toy to your clit in morse code bursts. You’re just getting into it when—

bonk!

The neck of Mary’s guitar, which had been propped up on the other end of the couch, beans you in the temple.

“Ow, fuck!”

You set your vibe aside and, grumbling, begin to carefully maneuver his instrument out of the splash zone. You’re pretty worked up at this point—which will be your excuse to yourself later—so when your hand slides down the neck, you can’t help but think of the way Mary’s hands deftly manipulate it when he plays.

And, fuck—you love Mary’s hands.

Sliding your hand back up the neck, you pretend to be Mary pretending the guitar is you.

Doooown twang. Uuuuup, twang.

You hastily reach behind you and fumble around for your vibrator, pressing it in between your clenched thighs so you can grind against it as you stroke the guitar. Mary’s hands, hands on you, tongue in ear, on your neck, on your clit …

Fervently you rut against the buzzing toy, Mary’s guitar now clutched to you, as the stimulation finally sets you over the edge. You cry out—one hand shooting to grip at the couch cushion—as the continuous vibrations make you cum hard and then eke a demi-orgasm out of you before you can reach down to yank it away. You lie there for a minute—one hand still grasped around the guitar neck, the other pressed down on your cunt as you wait for the spasms to subside.

Taking in a deep breath, you stretch languorously … and notice how sticky you are now. Ugh—the crotch of your lounge pants is beyond hope, but you’re pretty sure you have a clean pair in one of the piles in your room. 

You extract yourself from the couch and begin to shimmy off your pants; you realize you’re still pretty slick—fuck, are you going to have to shower or will a baby wipe do?!—when your eye lands on Mary’s guitar, now prone on the couch. Your lips spread in an involuntary grin. Clambering back onto the couch, you straddle the guitar. Tentatively, you lower your pussy onto the strings and start to slide up the neck. 

Ok, you’re definitely going to need a shower.

It ends up feeling pretty weird, so you straighten back up, swipe your hand through your wet folds, and begin to smear that and what’s already on the strings the rest of the way up. You make sure to spread it out evenly all the way up, and—when you’ve exhausted what’s between your legs—you rub the crotch of your pants up and down the back. Only once you’re satisfied, do you climb off and gingerly take the instrument to secure in its case.

You decide to stretch out your lunch break—no sense showering now and then later. Turning on your email sound notifications, you hop into the shower, where you wash your hair with the good shampoo & conditioner and lose the fight against the patriarchy by shaving things.

A little bit of product in your hair, and you wrap yourself in an old, but comfortable robe. No use putting on clothes when you’re just going to take them off in a few hours!

You finish out the rest of your (long, boring) workday with minimal tantrums, though in your mind you’re already fucking Mary post show. Despite having already showered, you’re still running woefully behind to hand off Mary’s guitar to him at 6pm. You wrap your rain trench around you—you’d originally intended to wear your vintage one with the faux-fur collar, but you don’t want Mary seeing your outfit just yet—and head off to the club at a speed prance.

The door to the club isn’t locked, but when you wander in, it’s just a handful of staff—the bouncer leaning on the bar, the bartender counting his till, and some servers wiping down tables. The bouncer straightens.

“Doors at 7:30, honey.”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, “the band?”

“You can meet the band after, just like everybody else. For now ….” He starts to move in your direction, but then Mary appears—stiff and stomping towards you.

“What was it I said to you, Jimmy?” he snaps.  “I said ‘A girl with a guitar.’ Does she look like a groupie to you?”

Jimmy rolls his eyes and puts his hands up before sitting back down. Mary practically rips the case from your grasp.

“You’re late,” he hisses at you. “It’s nearly 6:30!”

“Well ‘hello’ to you too, asshole. I was working til half past 5.”

Mary puts down the case, opening to check the contents—as if you’d bring him an empty case. Satisfied, he snaps it back shut.

“I said 6 for a reason! Soundcheck is in 5, and now I’m gonna have to do tuneups on the fly. Maybe next time skip on the primping, ok?”

You flick his ear.

“Fuck, ow.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Don’t be fucking late then!”

You snap your fingers in front of his face.

“I’m sorry—am I the one who forgot his guitar? Am I the one who begged me to be here with cunnilingus?”

“Well, if you don’t wanna be here, then leave. No one’s fucking forcing you.”

You glare at him, then count to ten.

You go to squish his face between your hands, realize he’s in full corpse paint, and instead rest them on his shoulders

“LOOK at me.” He does, pouting and eyebrows furrowed—your grumpy skeleton. “I do want to be here … but if you disrespect me like that again, I’m fucking walking. I don’t deserve to be talked to like that. Am I understood, Gorrey boy?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

You quirk your eyebrow at him.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he says more sharply.

“Good,” you say, giving him a quick, light peck on the lips. “You’ll do great,” you say in quieter tones. 

“Thanks,” he says, leaning into you a bit. You push him away, playfully.

“Go! You have to go do soundcheck!”

He trundles off—muttering what sounds a lot like Pain in my ass—and when you look up you can see the hard eyes of the band on you from the platform stage. You form your hand into the bird and wave at them before sauntering out of the bar. With an hour to kill, you head to a cafe where you can nurse a tea and plug in your phone.

When 7:30 rolls around, you make your way back to the club. There’s a line, but when Jimmy sees you, he grins and waves you forward.

“You must have magic nipples or some shit to put ole’ Mary Goore in his place,” he says as he lets you in the club.

You wink at him. “They’re beer-flavored.” You hear him guffaw as you make your way in.

Now that the space is filled with people, it seems like a much bigger venue. It’s not at capacity yet, but there are enough patrons milling about for it to be lively. You luck out with a stool at the bar where you can easily see the stage. You shimmy out of your trench and grope around under the bar until you find a hook to hang it on.

You order a wheat beer from the bartender, who winks and tells you that the first one’s on the house. You beam in thanks, making a note to tip him extra when you settle up. As you sip your beer and do some people watching, you become aware of the two women sitting next to you. They’d been talking about “the band” (Mary’s is just the first opener) since you sat down, but you only tune in when it becomes clear they’re discussing Mary’s band.

“… totally slaps, of course, but they’re all so hot,” says the redhead with blond streaks framing her face.

“Ugh, right? But the lead guitarist especially can step on me,” says the bottled black-haired one with red lowlights.

Oh, you think, that’s Mary. It’s not like you don’t know Mary has fangirls. You’re not even particularly bothered by it—but reading comments on the internet is viscerally different than encountering it in the wild. It’s just: surreal.

You scoot your stool a little closer to the women.

“Hello? Hi. Yes, I’m sorry—but I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. That’s who I’m here to see too.”

You mean the band, but Black Hair says, “Oh! So you’re a Dead Girl, too?”

You squint. “I’m a …?”

Red Hair chortles. “Did you just get into them, then?”

“I—”

“I mean … they’re all hot, 10/10,” sighs Black Hair, “but ‘Dead Girls’ are Mary’s—that’s the lead guitarist—girls.”

Before you can say anything, Red Hair leans in conspiratorially.

“But don’t get your hopes up—I heard he’s got a girlfriend.”

Black hair tilts her head back and rolls it back and forth “Why. So unfair.”

You hide a smile behind your hand, wondering if you should say anything. Maybe you can get Mary to sign their … whatevers. 

Red Hair pats her arm and leans in to stage whisper, “Don’t worry—I heard she’s fat and ugly. I’m sure you have a chance.”

“Ugh, why do they always go for the fat chicks? Is their self-esteem that low?”

“He probably feels obligated to her or something. Doesn’t know he’s got options now.”

Their casually cruel description of you leaves you stunned and feeling cold for a minute. And ok—your arms aren’t the firmest and maybe spanx are a lost cause

—which is as far as you get before you remember that you’re actually awesome and that this particular self-loathing train lost the caboose full of fucks a long time ago. 

You scoot even closer to the women.

“Do you want to know something?”

The two of them look at you expectantly, heads tilted.

“It’s just—I know who his girlfriend is, and she’s such a bitch.”

You have their attention now, and they bring their stools in, too.

“Really?”

“Do tell!”

“OMG,” you say. “You are way skinnier, um … ?”

“Molly,” says Black Hair Molly.

“Katrina,” says Red Hair Katrina.

“Suey,” you say, introducing yourself with Mary’s pet name for you.

“So, what’s the tea?” asks Molly.

“Well … she thinks she’s amazing, and she bosses him around like whoa. I don’t think his bandmates like her very much.”

“Ooo,” squeals Katrina, “the salt!”

“Oh shit!” exclaims Molly. “Is she here?”

You exaggeratedly scan the room. “Hmm. I don’t see her in the crowd.

“So you think I have a chance?”

You scan her up and down, as if appraising. 

“You can give it a shot.”

Katrina and Molly look at each other and start giggling.

Suddenly the lights dim, and everyone screams as Mary’s band takes the stage. The lead singer introduces them, yelling, and they dive into their first song. You don’t get to say much to the women after that—Mary’s band is loud, and some of the die-hard fans are screeching along in unison. 

You’re not sure, but you think you can see Mary searching for you. You suddenly curse your spot at the bar. About 15 minutes in, however—as the lead singer is introducing the band members—Mary finally looks over your way. You give a small wave and he locks eyes with you; you give him the middle finger and suck it into your mouth seductively.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond before it’s his introduction, and he’s playing a complicated riff.

“OMG. Was he looking at us?”

“He was totally looking at us!”

You roll your eyes and turn around to order another beer. 

Their set lasts about 45 minutes before they’re thanking the crowd and packing up their gear. The bigger bands will have roadies, but Mary and his bandmates have only themselves and the techs from the venue to rely on, so you know you’re in for a bit of a wait. Katrina and Molly are clapping and screaming their heads off, which—you can’t fault them for. People should appreciate Mary’s band.

“Do you think they’ll come out and mingle?” asks Molly.

“They’ll have to if they have a merch table,” says Katrina.

“Should we go wait there, or … ?”

“Just chill for a bit. You don’t want to seem so thirsty! Hit them up after the initial rush when they’re bored.”

Way sooner than he should be, you see Mary stalking over to you. You can hear the excited utterances of the women next to you as he comes close, but they fade into the background as Mary crowds into your space, leaving no room for the Holy Ghost. You gasp as he winds his hand into your hair.

“Fuck. Look at you,” he murmurs into your lips. “Look at this tight little number you’re wearing—I might have to ruin it later.” You’re wearing an electric blue halter dress with a neck collar. Your tits need a little help staying up these days, so instead of being backless, the lace of your razor bra is showing.

He steps back. “And what the fuck are these?” he says as he runs a hand up your stockings and under your dress. You’re wearing dark blue, wide-net tights that have felt flowers sewn on. They were a present from a college friend one Christmas, so they have a few holes due to the passage of time and chub rub—but you just tell people that makes them punk rock. 

When his hand brushes between your legs, he feels your naked cunt. The pièce de résistance of your ensemble is a pair of crotchless panties you have on that were a gag party favor from an anti-Valentine’s soirée a friend-of-friend had thrown.

“Oh shit.” He crowds in close again and spins you 180º so that he’s between you and the bar. His finger traces your slit. “You make me so hot, do you know that?”

He takes your hand and presses it to the growing bulge of his crotch.

“Do you feel that? Do you feel how hot you make me?” He leans down to bite your neck as his finger slips between the lips of your cunt. Your head lolls to the side and you catch eyes with Katrina and Molly, who are quiet and looking pale.

Oh. Right.

You smile at them. “Such. A. Bitch,” you say at them.

Mary brings his head up, one hand still fingering you. “What?”

You smirk at him. “I was telling Kat and Molly over there that your ‘fat and ugly’ girlfriend is a fucking bitch.”

He looks over, seeming to notice them for the first time. He doesn’t even falter.

“She fucking is,” he says as he pulls his hand from your cunt and outstretches it toward them as if to shake their hands. “Hi.”

They don’t answer. They don’t return the gesture.

“No? Ok.”

He turns back to you and puts his other hand on your neck.

“You put your fucking pussy all over my guitar.” He squeezes a little. “I’m supposed to be doing fucking soundcheck and tuning my strings and shit, and the only thing I can think about is how much my instrument smells like sex with you.” 

He leans in to whisper in your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, little girl.” 

To them he says, “Excuse me. I have to go fuck the shit out of my girlfriend now.”

As he’s pulling you down the back hall, you look over your shoulder to wink at Katrina and Molly. Mary follows your gaze.

“Thanks for coming out!” he yells back. “Buy a t-shirt!”

His grip around your wrist is insistent—sure to leave a bruise—as he leads you into the greenroom.

A chorus of “Mary, where were you?” and “Mary, what the fuck” ring out as he maneuvers you through the room. You grimace at them as Mary all but pushes you into the adjacent bathroom. He locks the door behind you and ignores the banging and shouts behind it.

“Come here,” he demands.

You move, but not fast enough to satisfy him, so he grabs your arm to pull you to him. He licks his lips before diving down to assault your mouth. You open readily for him as his tongue shoves its way in. He tastes like his bitter makeup.

“I’ve been on edge for goddamned hours because of you,” he says when he comes up for air. “Our big gig,” he continues as he molds your pliant body stomach down and sideways over the sink, “and I have to spend our entire fucking set smelling your juice on my guitar.”

You giggle and look over your shoulder at him. “You’re welcome.”

He rucks up your dress and gives your ass a swat. You gasp, and he swats you twice more.

“You fucking bitch,” he says, but there’s no heat to it.

He drapes himself over you and mouths at your ear.

“Tell me I can fucking have you,” he snarls as he ruts against you. “Tell me I get to fuck you now.”

You turn your head again, straining to have your lips touch his.

“Fuck me, Goore,” you rasp.

Magic words spoken, he’s spreading your legs wider and ripping another hole in your stockings. You hear him as he fumbles to undo his belt buckle and drag down his zipper—and then he’s pushing into you without preamble. You gasp at the sudden intrusion as he breathes an Oh fuck into your skin. He wraps one arm around your middle and the other he braces against the wall as he begins to pound into you.

You scrabble at the wall for leverage as you squirm to find the right angle. Mary doesn’t let up at all.

“You feel so good. So tight, so wet. Fuck, is this what you wanted? Me half-crazed out of my mind?”

Well yeah, you think, something like. What comes out of your mouth is a long moan, and you squeeze your muscles hard around him.

“Shit, fuck!” he cries out as he almost stutters to stop. You push back into him, your clit throbbing and desperate for pressure. 

“You asked for it,” he growls, He grabs the meat of your hips—fingers digging into your love handles—and begins to slam himself into you faster and faster. The new angle is hitting your G-spot deliciously and you cry out,

“Oh fuck, yes Mary—RIGHT THERE DON’T STOP.”

He’s making little grunting noises as he slams into you, and you know you’re going to be pretty sore later—but right now you’re trying desperately to get a hand between your legs so you relieve the heavy pressure pooling between your legs.

He’s wheezing when he says, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum. Ughn, take it, bitch.” And then he thrusts into so hard he hits your cervix and you cry out. He’s growling Uhn uhn uhn as he empties into you, thrusts slowing. When he’s done, he drapes over you, kissing behind your ear. The shift  stings a little, and you flinch slightly.

“Shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, as he straightens up and eases his soft cock out of you, petting down your back.

You turn your head so he can hear you. “Maybe a little?” you say. “But I’ll forgive you if you finish me off.”

He complies quickly, sprawling under you so he can lap at you with his tongue while a finger gently enters you and presses at your G-spot. You let out a loud, shaky moan at the sudden dual sensation—you’re still pretty worked up and you see bursts behind your eyes. He works you up to a full precipice—while you clutch against the sink and pant into your arms—until your climax sparks and breaks. You clench around his finger, and your pussy pops against his relentlessly flicking tongue. 

He slows down when your body slumps and you start twitching at the feeling of his tongue on your now oversensitive nub; then he wraps himself around one of your legs—stroking your inner thighs—as he waits for you to come down from your orgasmic high. When you do, he stands up and peels you off the sink. After that, the two of you hurriedly clean each other up—there’s a green room full of annoyed people bitching at you through the door, after all. 

“Hey,” he says as you allow him to kiss the back of your neck. “I’m in so much shit. I really need to pull my weight with the equipment … but I’ll see you back out there in a bit?

You turn to kiss him; his paint is smeared all to hell, which means it’s probably all over you. Smoothing down your dress, you spin around with arms wide.

“Do I look like I lost a fight with the makeup section of Hot Topic?”

He snorts. “You do, actually,” he says while crowding into you. “But don’t ask me to clean it off. I want everyone to know who fucked you.”

You push him away. “You’re fucking gross, Goore.”

He gives you a vulpine smile. “You adore it.” 

(You do.)

You steel yourself to the walk of shame through the greenroom—more than just Mary’s bandmates are in there—putting on a devil-may-care attitude like a cloak. Head held high, you leave the bathroom, smirking at the men particularly like the cat who got creamed. There’s some eye rolling, a few wolf-whistles, and an ironic slow cap. A woman in another group raises her hand up, and you high-five it, before spinning around to curtsey as you leave the room.

When you get back to the bar, the two women are gone and there’s someone in your spot. You make your apologies as you retrieve your stuff, and you order another beer for yourself and a whiskey shot + chaser for Mary, before settling your tab. The next band has been playing for a bit and your beer is half empty by the time Mary and his bandmates materialize again. They’re smiling and talking to the fans who begin to mob them. Mary shakes a few hands and signs a few CDs before making a beeline to you.

“You’re a mess,” he says as you hand him his drinks. He shoots the whiskey immediately, slamming the shot glass down onto the bar.

“Well, someone, got impatient,” you retort.

He leans in close. “Can you blame me? Fuck. What did you do to my guitar. I should be pissed.”

“I did exactly what you think I did. Got hot thinking of you, decided to show my appreciation.”

“Fuck,” he rumbles in your ear. His free hand starts to slip up your thigh again. “Do you wanna—”

He’s interrupted when one of his bandmates comes over.

“Christ, Mary. Leave the poor girl alone for a second. We gotta man the merch table. Amps don’t pay for themselves.”

Mary sighs, his hand slipping from under your dress to around your waist.

“C’mon,” he says as he leads you to their table with his very put upon-looking bandmates. He arranges you on his lap, much to their consternation.

“The girls are our biggest fans, Mary! We need to keep up the fantasy that we’re available!”

“She should be with the other girlfriends!”

“I don’t give a shit,” Mary spits. “This isn’t a fucking K-pop group. They can deal with us having actual lives. If they only like our image, then what’s the point?”

You’d wanted to beg off at first—feeling a little like ornamentation for all to see—but you’re pretty pliant from the beer and the orgasm, so you let Mary keep you where you are. You have a few more shots and lite beer chaser as the night wears on, and you get into joking around with their fans and even one or two of his other band members—your ribald humor fits right in. You’re well into a lengthy discussion with the woman from the greenroom about pockets when Mary taps your arm for your attention.

“We’re gonna pack it in for tonight, Suey.”

“Ok. Do you wanna head back to mine, or … ?

 Mary sighs. 

“We’re apparently having a ‘band meeting,’ so I might not be able to tonight … but tomorrow?”

You feel a stab of disappointment before pushing it down. “No, I get it. Duty calls.” You lean down to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to go home and touch myself while thinking about you. I want you to think about that later when you’re alone.”

His hand squeezes your thigh hard.

“Can you do that for me? Can you be a good boy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says softly.

The next morning when you wake, you check your phone to find that you have a text from Mary: it’s a blurry picture of his half-hard cock drooling cum. You text him back full of praise.

When you get yourself set up for the day on your laptop, your first order of business is to make a folder entitled “SueysSpankBankFodder” next to Mary’s.

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

[creativewritingpracticestudio]

Leave You Low(Twiggy Ramirez x Reader)

Era: Mechanical Animals era(1998).

This one is based on the request of @headoverhiddles <3 sorry it’s not great but I’m learning!

In this, you are Twiggy’s girlfriend and a guitar player for the band. The both of you are addicted to drugs, although you heavily deny it. One night, the drugs result in you and Twiggy having meltdowns on stage, and you’re forced to come to terms with the fact that you can’t continue this behavior.

Remember to send in requests for more Marilyn Manson x readers and Twiggy Ramirez x readers! Smut warning. This ones long, sorry.

Of all the places you want to be right now, performing on a brightly lit stage in front of tons of people with deafening sounds all around you isn’t one of them. You and Jeordie have just got done with another “date night”. That is, snorting lines, binge-eating, vomiting, and fucking.

Your head is pounding, body aching, stomach turning, mouth going dry and metallic. You feel like you’re gonna pass out. Looking at your boyfriend, he isn’t doing much better. Even for an experienced drug user, he’s done too many lines in one sitting. Unfortunately, there are no sick days in rock and roll.

You stumble over to your boyfriend, who is laying out on the dingy couch, eyes half-lidded and fingers twitching. “We’re on in 15, baby.” You lean down and pull him up from the couch. He staggers around for a second, and then leans against the wall, eyes closed. “Think we overdid it?” He shakes his head, and mumbles under his breath. “Wanna see a magic trick?”

You nervously say yes, and he steps away from the wall and lazily holds his arms out at his sides. “Ta-da.” Is that the trick? Holy shit, you two have definitely gone too far. “Um, very nice, baby. Good job.” He grins gleefully at the praise, and then promptly turns, leans down, pulls his hair back, and vomits on the floor. You flinch, and then quickly walk to comfort him. This is far from a rare thing.

When he’s done, you wipe his mouth off with a napkin and rub his head as he leans against your shoulder. “Sorry, baby. I think I did too much.” You shush away his apologies. “It’s okay, baby. We need to go now, Brian is probably pissed at us.” He agrees, and the two of you walk out of the room to find the rest of the band, heads spinning and arms on each other’s shoulders for support.

Brian automatically knows that the two of you are fucked out of your minds. “Where the hell have you two been? We’re on in 5. How much cocaine have you assholes done, you look fucking awful.” Jeordie looks hurt, but you roll your eyes. “Chill. You do cocaine all the time.” “Yeah, but I know my limit. You assholes fucking don’t. Now come on, dickwads. You better not pass out on stage. Vomiting is fine. But no passing out.”

You roll your eyes as he saunters on stage. What an asshat. Jeordie pipes up, his head resting on your shoulder, sounding on the verge of tears. “Is he mad at us?” You look down at your doped-up boyfriend, smile reassuringly, and shake your head, ignoring your own dizziness and naseua. “Of course not, baby. He’s just in a bad mood. Come on, let’s go.” The two of you stumble on stage, and you brush off Brian’s harsh words. Brian’s just paranoid. You and Jeordie are fine. Everything is fine.

———————————————————————

As it would turn out, everything is not fine. Things start to go downhill from the moment you and Jeordie get on stage. The lights are extremely bright and the fans and instruments are extremely loud, making your migraines and stomach aches worse. You haven’t gotten a migraine from drugs since the first time you and Jeordie used it. Not to mention, Jeordie’s so out of it that he almost misses several notes. If it weren’t for muscle memory from playing the songs so much, you two would be messing up almost every other note.

The stage is spinning, the fans are spinning, you’re spinning, Jeordie’s spinning. When it’s time for the finale, you know that you and Jeordie are absolutely fucked. The lights and strobes become 10x more intense, the fans scream as loud as they can, the song is the loudest one possible: Angel With The Scabbed Wings. Brian’s been giving you and Jeordie angry looks through the performance. Jeordie looks like he’s gonna throw up his entire stomach and intestines. You feel your legs start to give out underneath you. Oh Shit.

About 30 seconds before the song ends, everything finally comes to a head. Jeordie slams his bass down on the ground repeatedly and violently retches on its remains before tripping over his feet and falling flat on his back, legs up in the air. The crowd cheers louder, and you realize with a start that they think it’s an act. Which makes sense. Jeordie does stuff like that a lot.

Knowing you’re about to pass out, you follow suit, slamming your guitar violently on the ground, falling to your knees and throwing up. The song ends. Brian looks back to see why you stopped, and you can already tell you’re gonna be in for some deep shit for your little stunt when you get off the stage. But, he goes along with it and turns back to the fans, milking the finale for all it’s worth. As the crowd continues to cheer, Brian throws his mike down and storms off the stage.

The rest of the band have smashed their instruments in a panic to hide that the outbursts weren’t planned. Ginger hurriedly helps you to your feet, and John hoists your skinny boyfriend over his shoulder and carries him off the stage as he mumbles something about dog clothing and cupcakes. As soon as you’re out of view of the crowd, Brian kicks over a speaker and whips around to face you as you clumsily attempt to get your wasted boyfriend on his feet. “What the actual fuck was that?” You grit your teeth and turn away from his scary glare.

“Relax. The crowd thought it was a part of the show. Twiggy’s thrown up before, and we smash shit all the time.” Jeordie falls on his ass and stares up at the ceiling. “Yeah, and that shit is planned. That just looked stupid. Twiggy doesn’t usually get carried off the stage when he does that, and now we’ve wasted the instruments we were gonna smash in the next show. I don’t even care about that. You two need fucking help.” You blink. “What?”

“You two need fucking help. I wasn’t gonna say anything until after the tour, but this shit has to stop. You two have a fucking drug problem. I don’t care if you snort cocaine, just don’t do it so often it melts your fucking minds. I swear, every time I turn around you’ve got a straw up your fucking nose. Only addicts use straws. I’m getting you two checked into a rehab facility first thing after the tour is over. I’m not firing you and I’m not asking. You two are getting clean.”

You stare at him. “Brian, it’s not like we haven’t smashed shit and thrown up on stage before, you’re overreacting-” “That’s not the only thing I’m talking about, goddamn it! You two literally live off of cocaine, it’s all you ever do! You’re both addicted and you need fucking help. I’m not arguing with you. I don’t want to lose another band member to this shit, I already lost Brad. Both of you get the fuck out of here now and go back to your hotel. You’re not staying for the after-party. You start rehab in a week, I already have you both scheduled to check in.”

You start to fire back, but stop. It’s pointless to argue with Brian. You grab Jeordie from the floor, pull him up, and lead him out the door. As you walk out, you hear Pogo start to try and reason with Brian. You know it won’t work, but you appreciate him trying. The hotel is across from the venue, so the two of you stagger across the street, wincing at the bright lights of the passing cars. You go up to your room, and Jeordie slumps onto the bed and curls up into a ball. “You okay, baby?” You glance at him with concern.

“Yeah. We really fucked up, didn’t we? Do you think he’s right?” You sigh, and go to your bag to grab you and Jeordie’s pajamas. “Honestly..I think he’s got a point. We’ve never been that fucked up on stage before. And I don’t think there’s been a single day in our relationship where we both weren’t high. I mean, for God’s sake, our date nights are just snorting lines, binge-eating, throwing up and passing out. Going to McDonalds and shoplifting at Walmart if we feel romantic.”

Jeordie is quiet for a minute. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You’re trying not to cry, but your shoulders are starting to shake. Jeordie sits up, alarmed. “What’s wrong?” You wipe your nose with your arm, walk over to the bed, and sit next to Jeordie, hugging him tightly. “He said he doesn’t want us to end up like Gidget did. I don’t wanna end up like him. We really can’t do this anymore, Jeordie.” He just nods, and hugs you back tighter still. After a minute, you pull away.

“He’s right. We have to go to rehab. It’ll be okay..we’ll at least be together. And we can still smoke weed. And he’s not firing us. It’ll only take a few months. Let’s just get some sleep, baby.” You get up, walking back over to the crumpled nightgown on the floor, and peel off your tank top and jeans. “Fuck.” You turn around, and Jeordie’s hardcore staring at your naked body, his bulge obvious through his tight dress. He gives you a puppy dog look.

“Jeordie, baby, it’s late.” He whines softly, grabbing at his hard-on. “Please? It’s been so long, and I get really horny when I’m high, and you have the greatest tits I’ve ever seen on a-” You interrupt him by sitting on his lap and pulling him in to kiss you. He groans against your lips, grabbing your hips and moving your body against his aching cock. His hands tangle up in your hair, and you pull away long enough to fumble with his dress, hurriedly throwing it aside.

He lifts up so you can wriggle him out of his boxers, and you quickly wrap your hands around his dick, feeling it harden even more in your warm grip. You pump your hands up and down, twisting over the head and rubbing the tip with your fingers, his precum allowing for quick movements. His eager moans egg you on, and you feel your pussy clench, knowing you’re already getting wet. After a minute, he stops you. “Can you put your mouth on it, baby?”

You nod eagerly, and he gently pushes your head down. You force as much down your throat as you can, swirling your tongue around the head and licking long lines up and down his shaft and squeezing and rubbing his balls in your free hand. He throws his head back, moaning loudly and forcing your head down more. After a few minutes, his breathing becomes erratic and he pulls you off. “Can’t cum yet, hehe.” He gives you a goofy grin, and you playfully roll your eyes.

He goes for your bra, pulling it off and lovingly admiring your breasts before leaning in, licking and sucking on your nipples as you squirm and whine in his lap. You push his head closer to your body and stroke his hair as he leaves a hickey between your boobs and gently pushes you down onto the bed, moving down to your hips. You clench your thighs together, moaning softly at the pleasure. He rubs two fingers against your wet clothed pussy, and your moans get louder.

He pulls your panties aside and mumbles appreciatively. “You’ve got such a pretty little pussy, baby.” You gasp at the words, face heating up with lust and slight embarrassment. He sounds almost sober. He leans down, a hand on each thigh, and runs his tongue along the outside of your dripping wet heat. You squirm and instinctively buck your hips against him, and he repeats the action, licking up your wetness and gently pushing a finger inside of you as he teases your thighs with his tongue.

He works on your g-spot with his finger as his tongue works around your clit, and then adds another finger. Maybe it’s the drugs, or how tired you are, or just how desperate and horny you are in the moment, but you cum quickly, much quicker than usual. He cleans your pussy out, and licks his lips before aligning his cock with your hole and pushing in. “Oh fuck! Holy shit, Jeordie, harder! Fuck me harder, baby!” He grins at the encouragement and obliges, his hips snapping against yours in a quick pace.

His hand closes around your neck, and he presses down just slightly. God, you love it when he does that. “Who does this pussy belong to? Who do you belong to?” “Y-you, baby! Only you! This tight little pussy is all for you!” His hips begin to stutter, pace going erratic. “That’s right. Fuck, I’m about to cum. Say my name, baby.” “Jeordie!” His hand tightens around your neck, his hips slam into you roughly, his other hand begins to finger your g-spot again. You feel a heat form in your belly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby!”

“That’s right, baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock, baby.” You throw your head back, gasping his name one more time as your orgasm washes over you. He cums at the same time, and you feel it dripping out of you as he sighs and tiredly lays his head against your neck. “Thank you, baby.” You rub his back, lightly scratching it with your nails. “I need to get up and pee, baby. Come with me, we can shower and clean up.”

He nods, and you pull him up. He, surprisingly enough, doesn’t stumble. “Are the drugs wearing off?” He nods. “You know, being sober probably won’t be all that bad. I feel pretty sober right now. Not too bad. Thirsty, though.” He picks up a bottle from the counter and chugs half of it down.

“Jeordie, you just drank perfume.”