#god i could live in this feeling forever im SMILING im CHEESING im GIGGLING

[bailaconox]

well after 4 successful times i think i have proven that xen checks every insta story he gets tagged in!!!

#personal #god i could live in this feeling forever im SMILING im CHEESING im GIGGLING #im gonna stop tho bc i dont wanna annoy any of them 😭😭😭💔💔💔 but good to know it works! #crying a lil bit or a lot im really so happy this is really special to me my heart is on cloud nine

[thefallennightmare]

Hard to Love [21/21]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1621

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I cannot believe the ending is here. I also cannot thank you enough for all the love that you guys have gave this series. I really do appreciate it and love seeing all the comments! Your words of encouragement are what kept me going for this story. I’m so so sad it’s done. 

Lets finish this story with a happy ending! 

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​

ONE YEAR LATER

“Where’s my cutie pie?!” I shouted, entering the home. 

Four feet trotted down the long hallway from the kitchen to the living room where I stood, hanging up my jacket and bag. Bending at the knees, I allowed all of the kisses and whines of happiness, scratching the furry ears. 

“How’s Dodger doing today?” I cooed. 

He followed me into the kitchen as I searched the fridge for something to ease my stomach. Munching on a piece of cheese, I checked my phone and saw a new message from Chris. 

I’ll be home in a few hours. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t think these interviews would take so long. 

Don’t be sorry! I’ll wait up for you xx. 

The last year, I had grown incredibly; putting everything that happened to me in the past, locking it away. The scars still remained on my body but I never let it affect me. Chris would always make sure he showed extra love to them, telling me that he loved the way I look. 

The first time Chris had to leave for work was a couple of months after everything and it was hard to get adjusted to sleeping in the bed alone but Dodger was the best replacement, keeping me safe every night. Chris tried to turn down movie roles but I quickly shot that down. I wouldn’t let him lose out on a possible great job because I missed him. 

I ended up seeing the live video he posted when I was missing and the amount of outpouring coming from his friends and fans also helped me heal. There were a good amount of people who at first weren’t happy that Chris was in a loving relationship but eventually, when he kept posting pictures of us on Instagram, they got used to it. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I saw a new message appear from Chris. 

Our weekend starts in less that two hours. I can’t wait to be alone with you. 

I smiled fondly at the message. 

The past couple weeks were filled with either him working almost every day or me continuing my schooling. We had his family and friends over a few times last week as well so we were practically begging the Gods above for some alone time. 

Which is why this weekend we had zero plans, just the two of us in our home. 

And Dodger. 

“OH COME ON!” Chris yelled at the T.V. 

A giggle erupted from my throat from my spot on the couch, my feet placed in his lap, as we watched the football game. 

Our weekend together was coming to an end, school for me and another press conference for Chris’ upcoming movie tomorrow, meant that reality was about twelve hours away. We spent the weekend in multiple different rooms of the house, our moans vibrating off the walls. 

I’ve had sex more in this weekend than I had in my entire adult life. 

Now, we were exhausted, so we decided to spend the rest of our Sunday in our lazy clothes on the couch; Chris wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats and I ended up stealing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

Even though his eyes were transfixed on the game, he still made an effort to show me attention by rubbing the soles of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at this man in front of me. He let his beard grow this weekend, too lazy to shave it, which I didn’t complain one bit. The red marks on my thighs from earlier were an indication of that. His hair was short because he decided that he needed to buzz it last night; he was sick of it getting in his face. 

I marveled at the way the muscle in his jaw tightened when I rubbed my feet into his lap, purposely pressing into his soft cock. 

“If you keep that up, I’ll miss the last half of the game,” he threatened in a low voice. 

“But I’m horny!” I whined, lifting my shirt up and over my head. “Please?” 

I pinched my hard nipple between my fingers, hoping that would be enough to get him on top of me. 

It was. 

I yelped when Chris pulled my ankle towards him, his body on top of mine in seconds. His gold chain was dangling in front of my face as I looked up to him, our chest rising with heavy breaths. 

“So naughty,” he muttered against the crook of my neck. 

“Enough small talk and fuck me already, Evans,” I purred into his ear, fingernails digging into his bare back.

I couldn’t help but gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood, while I paced the floor of our bedroom. Chris was out running errands but with the text I sent him, I knew that he would be on his way home asap. 

Can you come home please? I have to talk to you. 

My hands shook with nerves, feeling my cardigan being weighed down with the pressure that was in the pocket. I couldn’t help but worry about what Chris’ reaction would be. We never talked about this and I didn’t know if this would be what broke our relationship. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing his voice, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where he sat with Dodger on the couch. 

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

He knew in the way my knee bounced and sucked in my bottom lip that whatever I had to talk to him about made me nervous as hell. Placing a hand on my knee, he gave me a warm smile. 

“Tell me,” he begged gently. 

Words were so foreign to me, not knowing exactly how to say it, so instead I handed him what was in my pocket. 

“I know we haven’t talked about it much but I couldn't not tell you. I mean you deserve to know. If you’re angry I understand. I’m confused too on how this happened,” I rambled. 

Chris didn’t hear a word I had spouted, his eyes trained hard on the stick in his hand with the two solid pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” His mouth twitched. 

I nodded and handed him my phone that held an email from the doctors office, confirming the pregnancy. Yesterday morning while Chris was out with his mom, I secretly had an appointment. 

“The doctor says I’m about six weeks,” I spoke softly. 

I was unsure of what his reaction would be, his gaze still stuck on the pregnancy test in his hand. 

Dodger knew something was different, sniffing the test in Chris’ hand. 

Finally after what felt like forever, Chris looked into my eyes and his mouth curved into a smile. 

“We’re having a baby?” 

The smile he had was a giant one, where you could almost count all of his teeth as he smiled down towards Dodger, showing him the sonogram on my phone as if Dodger could tell what he was looking at. 

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. 

“You’re happy?” I asked. 

His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

Our lips met in a rushed kiss, his hand finding its place on my stomach. His forehead rested against mine and his eyes shone with so much love that my heart leaped into my throat, knowing that his reaction was the complete opposite of what I was prepared for. 

“Stay here,” He mumbled against my lips in another kiss. 

I waited patiently as he rummaged for something in the desk of his office and he returned, hand behind his back. 

“I was saving this for when we went away next month but I don’t think I can wait.” He spoke before handing me a small box. 

A small velvet box. 

I gasped, watching him get down on one knee, and pried open the box. Inside was a gorgeous oval cut diamond on a plain gold band. The sunlight from outside had caught the ring in a warm glow of light. 

“This isn’t the most romantic idea of a proposal but I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. I first met you in this room when you came to work for me and in that moment I knew I wanted you; I needed you in my life. Y/N, you know I love you so fucking much. You have changed my life in so many ways and now we’re having a baby. You’re having my baby and somehow I love you even more. Y/N, will you marry me?” The tears welled in his eyes and he blew out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck yes!” I cried, hormones causing my eyes to pour tears down my cheeks. 

After he slid the ring on my finger, he picked me up with ease as he walked us towards our bedroom so we could celebrate the rest of our lives. 

I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in two years since I first drove up to this house, nervous about what the job was that I had an interview for. I never imagined that I would face my past again, not letting it define who I was anymore. And I definitely never thought I would find someone who would love me with his whole entire heart and soul, knowing how hard to love I was. But he did; Chris vowed to me that night in hushed moans that he loved me then and forever. 

Along with the baby I was growing in my stomach; our baby. 

AND FIN!

#chris evans #chris evans and reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans and yn #chris evans x yn #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans reader insert #hard to love

[cherrybracelets]

Heat Waves

weed dealer!mgg x reader 

masterlist | requests

word count: 5.5k | warnings: 18+ content! drugs and alcohol mentions and usage. no smut but partying!

summary: your brother has a new roommate, and fuck, you might be in love with him? 

song inspo : heat waves - glass animals 

an: this gif is how i imagine him in this fic like w glasses but way less nerdy ahahha ok well whatever idk if im gonna continue this or just leave it as is lmk what yall think ok byeee

You stumbled up the steps of the subway, the heavy cardboard box you were holding slipping out of your hands as you made your way above ground. You tried to adjust your grip on it and almost fell backwards, shaking your head in frustration. The box was filled with all the random shit your brother had left at your place over the past few months as he was trying to find a place to live, sleeping on different couches of random friends. It was almost all useless stuff, which made the fact that you had to hand deliver it all to him even more frustrating.

You walked tirelessly down the street, gripping harshly on to the box. You pushed your way through people, not caring at all that you probably looked insane as you yelled for people to move so you could just get there and fucking put this box down. You finally came upon the building, sighing with relief as you set the box on the steps and rang the buzzer.

“I’m here,” you groaned into the speaker, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Hello!” A cheery voice responded over the intercom. A voice that was definitely not your brothers. “Who exactly is here?”

“Oh, sorry- I might have the wrong apartment. Is this 4B?”

“Yeah! You must be Danny’s sister. Come on up.” The door buzzed loudly as it unlocked, and you grabbed onto the handle quickly, lugging in the box behind you. You were extremely grateful when you saw the elevator, quietly thanking the universe that you didn’t have to walk up four flights of stairs with this thousand pound box.

You took the elevator up to the fourth floor, your body exhausted as you leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. You closed your eyes, hoping that maybe a five second nap could give you your energy back. But unfortunately, the elevator stopped and opened its doors, urging you to once again pick up the box and be on your way. You dropped your head to the floor and sighed, using the last of your energy to pick up the box and walk down the long hallway to apartment 4B.

Thankfully the apartment wasn’t too far from the elevator, and you only had a short walk until you came upon the door of his new place. You noticed a welcome mat on the floor that read ‘Bachelor Pad’, and you rolled your eyes at the pure douchiness of the thing. God, your brother was a prick. But, nevertheless, you loved him, he was family. Despite being one of the most annoying people you’d ever met.

You knocked slowly on the door, excited to throw the box into someone else’s arms and run home. It was your day off from work, and all you wanted was to throw on some sweats, eat frozen mac and cheese and watch Jeopardy until you fell asleep on the couch. The perfect day.

The door swung open, and the man who was definitely not your brother stood on the other side, a large smile plastered across his picture perfect face. His messy curls hung across his face, and he pushed them away before reaching out to you to grab the box.

“Let me get that for you,” he said quietly, literally lifting the weight off your shoulders as he grabbed it effortlessly. The muscles in his arms protruded as he set the box down on an old dining table they had set up in the kitchen, a cluster of mismatched chairs along with it.

“Thanks,” you said back, your eyes still trailing over his body, watching him closely. “Is, uh, is my brother here?” You stuttered to get your words out, your eyes still locked on the model-like man in front of you.

“No, he just ran out actually. Went to pick up a couch or something.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He told me he would be here!” You shook your head in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest, which pushed out your cleavage slightly. You caught the man glancing at your breasts, and felt your heart start beating a bit faster. He wasn’t even trying to the fact that he was staring at you. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. He really was supposed to be here to get this.”

“It’s not a problem at all. He told me you’d be stopping by. I’m Matt, by the way. I’m sure he’s told you about me.” He stuck out his hand, and you reached back and grabbed it. His hands were soft, but the tips of his fingers stained black, the familiar site of a smoker. The air hung the smell of stale pot smoke, so it was pretty easy to put together that he was a heavy weed guy. 

“I’m (Y/N). And, uh, no, actually. He hasn’t told me, like anything about you. Just that he knows you from work and you’re a ‘pretty decent guy’,” you laughed, letting go of his hand but desperately wanting to hold on to it forever. You didn’t really understand why, but something about his touch was so comforting, it made you feel like coming home after a long day.

“Uh, I was just about to smoke a bowl actually, if you’d like to join. Your brother told me you smoke,” Matt said, motioning to the coffee table covered in various paraphernalia.

“I don’t make a habit of smoking with strangers,” you responded sharply, realizing immediately how bitchy you must’ve sounded and wishing you could take it back. You scrunched your face a bit, cringing as you replayed the sentence over and over in your head.

“But I’m not a stranger! I’m Matt! Besides, this is fantastic stuff- I just got it from my guy the other day, knocks your socks off,” he giggled, his eyes wide as he wanted to desperately for you to say yes.

“Well, I guess I really can’t say no to free weed,” you shrugged, following him over to the old couch they had set up in their under furnished living room. It was exactly how you pictured your brothers apartment to look- disappointing and not at all coordinated.

“Sorry about the place, we’re trying to make it look nice but we’re not exactly interior decorators.” He shook his head as he looked around the room, before picking up his freshly packed bowl and lighting it.

“Yeah, it looks pretty frat-housey in here. I would expect more from you, but not from my brother,” you giggled, taking the glass pipe from Matt’s hands and enjoying it yourself.

“Why me?”

“Well... I don’t know...” you stuttered, shaking your head and trying to pull together a sentence. “You just seem to have... more style, I guess. Seem more put together.”

“I appreciate that. I do try extremely hard to not look like a douche.” He smiled kindly at you, his eyes shining with the reflection of the lighter as the two of you continued to share the bowl.

You made small talk for a bit, feeling the calm of the marijuana taking over your body. The old couch suddenly became much more comfortable as you sunk back into it, staring at the patterns on the ceiling. Matt was talking quietly behind you, trying to tell some story about him and your brother; but you were only half listening, losing yourself in your own thoughts of him. Thinking about the softness of his lips as he inhaled and exhaled, watching his hands flex tireless to work the lighter, noticing how his body seemed to relax more and more with each hit.

He tilted his head towards you, flicking the lighter with his thumb and escaping in the flame. He had lost himself in it, a comfortable silence coming down over the room. You watched the flame, too, trying to see whatever beauty he saw in it- but you weren’t feeling anything, and getting pretty antsy. You turned away from him, staring into the kitchen and hoping to see something edible from this distance. You weren’t sure what kind of food two men like this would bring into their home, but you were sure it was nothing good. Your stomach grumbled at the thought of something to eat, and you fell back into the couch with a groan.

“You okay?” Matt whispered, turning his face towards you and staring at your eyes.

“Mhmm,” you responded, not having the energy to respond at the moment.

“You are extremely beautiful,” he mumbled, his eyes exploring your face, finding themselves locked on your lips no matter how hard he tried to look away.

“What?” You snickered, replaying the words in your head, feeling your heart pounding out of your chest.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be weird. It’s just shocking to me how beautiful you are. Like a piece of art; I can’t take my eyes away.”

“You’re joking.” You rolled your eyes at him and pushed his arm playfully, trying to hide the obvious delight in your face.

“Why do you think I’m joking?”

“I just don’t hear that very often.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” He frowned, looking down at his hands and playing with his over bitten nails.

“Sorry, I mean, I appreciate it of course. Fuck, sorry, I get so awkward when I’m high. Not very good at holding conversations.”

“Well, now that we’re friends I’ll make sure to remind you how beautiful you are as often as I can.” Matt placed his hand on yours lightly, at first only as a friendly touch, but feeling a comfort in the embrace. His thumb moved slowly, the small movement between your flesh overwhelming you with desire. Your eyes were locked on his, an intoxicating silence overcoming the room. You opened your mouth to speak, not sure exactly what to say, but the sound of the door unlocking breaking you from your daze. You pulled your hand away from his quickly and jumped off the couch, watching as the door opened and your brother walked in.

“Heyo!” Danny, your brother yelled, greeting the two of you with a large smile. “I see you’ve met my sister!”

“Yes, uh, yeah. We were just chatting,” Matt said defensively, trying to avoid eye contact with you.

“I was just waiting for you to get back. That’s all.” You responded, nodding your head quickly.

“How sweet! Just in time to help me get the new couch up!”

“Absolutely not. I brought your box, that's all the free labor you are getting out of me.” You laughed awkwardly, looking back at Matt, who was still avoiding you.

“Alright, whatever, but don’t ever ask me for anything ever again.” Danny rolled his eyes, throwing his phone down on the counter and grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow night for my party?” You asked, heading towards the door.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot. Is it cool if I bring Matt?” 

You looked at Matt, who finally looked back at you, and you nodded slowly.

“Of course. I’ll see you guys then.” You smiled at the two of them, gave a small wave and left, closing the door loudly behind you. Fuck. What the fuck was that? Was he flirting with you? Or was he just high? You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall, trying to compose yourself before heading home.

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

There was nothing that stressed you out more than when your roommate threw her chaotic ‘get togethers’ every other Friday at your place. It was always an exhausting mess, and now you had to think about Matt coming along as well. You hadn’t stopped thinking about your weird intimate moment together, and the thought of seeing him again made your stomach do backflips.

There was something about him that made you feel so comfortable, so at home. But he’s friends with your brother... he has to be a scumbag. Right? And what kind of guy just walks around telling random girls they’re beautiful. He was definitely just trying to sleep with you. Which of course you wanted to sleep with him too, obviously. But he was the kind of guy that you could find yourself falling for, and getting hurt, badly. He was the kind of guy that would break your heart. You could tell. And you could not let him in, no matter how much you wanted to.

Tonight has to be all about ignoring him. You cannot let him be alone with you, because the moment he’s alone with you and starts calling you beautiful again with his pretty face and intoxicating voice and touching your hand... you were playing a dangerous game. You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh, trying to push the thoughts of him out of your head when you were interrupted.

“What are you doing? I told you to get the cups set out like 20 minutes ago!” Your roommate rolled her eyes, pushing you to the side and laying out the cups herself.

“Sorry, Callie. Just a bit distracted today.”

“I can tell. What’s going on with you? You were weird all night last night.”

“Just tired I guess. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go set the drinks out.” You walked away quickly, hoping she would be too focused on her party planning to ask any more questions. Whenever you told her about a new guy, she was stupidly optimistic. And you really didn’t need her telling you to go for it when your brain was giving you the exact opposite advice. She just shrugged, turned around and went back to mindlessly setting up. You felt relief wash over you as she looked away, and you could once again get lost in your own thoughts and anxieties.

You mindlessly laid cups and other dumb decorations out, Matt’s face continuously crossing your mind. You found yourself smiling every time you played his words over in your head. His voice like silk as it wrapped around your body, warmth flowing through you as his lips whispered ‘You are extremely beautiful’ over and over again. You felt your heart racing, and you took a deep breath as you were brought back into reality by the vibration of your phone in your pocket.

You grabbed it, only to see you had multiple missed calls from your brother. ‘Fuck’, you thought. He knew, he somehow knew about your little flirt session with Matt. You shook your head in distress, preparing for the oncoming conversation as you reluctantly pressed the answer button and brought the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut to bear the impending rage from your brother.

“Jesus, I've called you like 18 times? What’s your deal?” He laughed, his voice full of his normal light and cheery tone. You took a sigh of relief after you realized he didn’t know a thing.

“Sorry, uh, helping Callie set everything up. Must’ve put my phone down and forgot it somewhere.”

“Well I need to know what liquor and illegal substances you’d like me to bring tonight- I’ve only got like an hour!” He said urgently.

“Uh, honestly whatever you want. We’ve got a few bottles here but nothing you’d like, probably.”

“You sound distracted, you all good?” You could head the concern in his voice, and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

“Everyone keeps asking me that today and it’s pretty annoying. I’m just trying to set up a party I don’t really want to be involved in and everyone keeps bothering me!”

“Jesus, grumpy pants. Looks like someone needs a nap... or a blunt.” Danny laughed quietly, and you bit your tongue to stop yourself from yelling at him again.

“Sorry. On edge today. Don’t want to talk about it.”

“No worries. I’ll see you later, okay? Try and cheer up a bit by then, I’d like to make a good impression on Matt.” Danny hung up quickly after that, and the word ‘Matt” kept ringing in your head over and over like a church bell. You put your phone down on the table and looked up at Callie, who was adjusting your work on the cups table.

“I need a drink,” you groaned.

“A little pregame shot, I love it!” She squealed, prancing over to the bottles and pouring shots for the two of you. You downed yours quickly, letting the liquor burn through your insides. You were hoping, after enough of it, it would burn through any thoughts you had of him. 

After another shot, the next hour before the guests arrived flew by. Callie put on some music and you danced your worries away, deciding which outfit to wear by rampaging through your closet. You kept fighting the urge to look as sexy as possible, one half of you wanting Matt’s jaw to drop as soon as he saw you, and the other half wanting him to ignore you all night. You couldn’t resist the temptation, though, and chose an extremely well fitting and low cut dress that accentuated all of your best features perfectly.

“God, you are literally the perfect specimen,” Callie giggled as you walked out of your room to show off. “Who the fuck are you trying to impress?”

“No one!” You responded, raising your eyes at her. “Can’t I just look good for myself?”

“Not that good. That is for someone. I know you.” You were saved by the ringing of your doorbell, and you smiled, relieved.

“Whatever you say. Go welcome your guests,” you motioned to the door. Callie just rolled her eyes and walked gleefully over to the entryway to welcome your first partygoers.

A few more groups of people rolled in, and you paid no attention as you were too busy making yourself another strong drink. You poured sloppily into the cup, giggling as splashes of soda and vodka spilled down the sides of your cup.

“You better watch out there, pretty girl. Making quite a mess.”

You turned around quickly, Matt’s voice making you jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled brightly, his perfect face begging to be touched, adored, kissed. You looked at every part of him, every beautiful part of him, stuttering to get words out.

“No... you’re... it’s okay. Sorry.” You put the bottle back down on the table and picked up your cup, taking a large swig, and nearly gagging on the taste of the strong liquor.

“Can I get in there and make a drink?” His eyes travelled up and down your body, his lips slightly pursing at the sight of you. You felt your heart pounding through your chest and he eyed you. His eyes finally locked on yours, his gaze paralyzing, your body refusing to move.

“Of course. We have lots of options. Anything you want,” you managed to squeak out, still unable to draw yourself away from his gaze. His eyes didn’t leave yours, and he smiled slightly, reaching his hand out to grab a bottle. For a split second you thought he was reaching out to touch you, and when you thought about the feeling of his skin on yours, you felt yourself melt. Desire and craving washed over your body in a wave that you couldn’t push away even if you tried.

“Thank you. I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” He finally looked away, and began walking back towards the small group of people who had gathered in your living room, including Callie and your brother. You felt relief as you were able to breath again, your body relaxing as he got farther and farther away. You waited a few moments before following him to join the rest of your friends.

“Ah, there you are, my sister!” Danny yelled, wrapping you in his arms so abruptly that you almost spilled your drink everywhere.

“Hey bud!” You hugged him back, grateful to have someone here to take your mind off of Matt.

“We were just about to play a fun little ice breaker game, since Matt is new to the group and all,” Danny motioned to Matt, who smiled and waved awkwardly as everyone stared at him.

“An ice breaker, really? What is this, college orientation?” You joked, taking another swig of your intensely strong drink.

“Shut up. Don’t be such an ass.” Danny rolled his eyes and pointed to an empty seat, and you realized it wasn’t worth fighting him. He loved to play stupid little games like this, that everyone else dreaded. But you have to admit, everyone always ended up having fun at the end of the day.

“What’s the game, Danny boy?” Callie cooed, getting comfy on the couch between a few of your other friends. She always had the biggest crush on him, although you forbid her from ever getting near him. It wasn’t her, you loved her and would love it even more if she was your sister. But he was such a dick, you knew he would break her heart, and you would not stand for that.

“Easy, everyone shares one surprising fact about themselves.”

“Oh god, I don’t think I have any,” someone moaned, and Danny just laughed.

“No worries, plenty of time to think. I can start. Uh.... I slept with my professors wife in college as revenge for him giving me a C- on my final.” Danny smiled proudly and took a long swig of beer. The group around you just groaned in disgust and laughed, but you knew the story. That wasn’t the entirety of it at all, in fact, Danny had fallen desperately in love with this woman and she crushed his heart by choosing her husband over him. But he would never tell all of that, because that doesn’t sound cool. Apparently you weren’t the only one who knew the truth, though, because Matt instinctively turned to you and looked at you in a way that read, ‘This guy is so full of shit.’ Apparently Matt and your brother were closer than you though, if he told him his biggest secret. 

“Hmm, Matt, I think you should be next. Only fair since you’re the new guy.” Danny turned to Matt with an excited face, like a little kid on christmas.

“Oh man, alright. Well, I guess one thing that people have a hard time believing about me is that I am a bit of a hopeless romantic. I believe in soul mates, love at first sight. All of that bullshit. I’m a sucker for it.” Matt looked right at you as the words spilled out of his mouth, not even trying to hide the obviousness of what he was trying to say. You tried your best to look away from him, but you couldn’t pretend his words weren’t entrapping you.

“That’s super corny, bro,” Danny laughed, pushing Matt slightly. He just shrugged, and took a sip of vodka straight from the bottle. Danny bothered a few more people about their secrets, and you listened intently to stories about shoplifting and coke addictions, trying to avoid his obvious gaze. You knew he was staring at you, his eyes burning holes in your body as the liquor started to flow through him. He wanted you, he craved you, in a way he had never experienced before.

Love at first sight had always been a myth to you; something in books and movies. Fiction. Until you heard the words slip from his mouth. Love at first sight, soul mates. It was all impossible. But why couldn’t you stop thinking of him. Why did his state send shivers through your body? Why did it feel like you had been waiting for him your entire life, even though you just met?

“(Y/N)! It’s your turn!” You heard Danny yell, bringing you out of your thoughts once again.

“Uh... what’s going on again?” You murmured, the alcohol overcoming your brain as you tried to remember the dumb activity you were being forced to participate in.

“Alright, you might need to slow down on the drinks girl.” Callie laughed, pointing at the cup in your hand.

“I’m fine. Just lost my train of thought!”

“Tell us a surprising fact about yourself,” Matt chimed in, a flirtatious smile plastered across his face.

“Uh, right. Well... I have a really huge record collection. It’s kind of my hobby.” You shrugged, nodding your head slowly as the group around you seemed let down by the less than flashy secret.

“You’re kidding! I collect vinyls too. I have like a thousand,” Mattresponded, his eyes lighting up at the realization that he finally had a way to talk to you.

“You should show him your collection, (Y/N), it’s ridiculously impressive,” Callie said, nodding in excitement. Your heart stopped at her words, hoping that Matt would say ‘Another time!’ and you would forget about the entire interaction. But you knew he would take up any offer to be alone with you; and a part of you was hoping he would.

“I’d love to see it,” Matt said slowly, his voice now a serious tone as he waited nervously for your response.

“Uh... of course. Does anyone else want to see?” You asked, in one final last ditch effort to protect yourself from being alone with him. But the room had already moved on from you, and no one even heard you ask the question. You looked up at Matt, his perfect smile once again showing itself.

“Guess it’s just you and I, pretty girl.” He whispered to you, his hand on your shoulder. He leaned in as he spoke to you, as if to keep the nickname a secret. You looked around in hopes that someone noticed, someone would put a stop to it. But everyone had already moved on, started new conversations, brought themselves deeper into a state of inebriation. No one saw either of you, and you could easily slip away into the night with him. 

You stood up slowly, and motioned for Matt to follow you into your room. He eagerly followed behind, not a single soul in the room even realizing you were leaving. You felt your heart pounding in anticipation and nervousness, not knowing how the next few minutes would play out. You took a few deep breaths to control yourself before opening the door to your room and letting Matt follow.

“Open or closed?” He asked, his hand gripped on the door handle as he awaited your response.

“Closed. I don’t like people seeing my personal space,” you said, moving over to the shelves that held your vinyls. Matt nodded and closed the door lightly, following you over to your collection. 

You walked to the corner of your small, cluttered bedroom. Sat in the corner was multiple shelving units, all packed high and bending under the weight of your numerous records. Next to the shelves was a small desk, which your record player sat beautifully on top of. Your room was overwhelming to a stranger's eye, but every single thing in there had a purpose, to you. It was your sanctuary. And it wasn’t a place you regularly invited strangers. You barely ever let Callie or Danny in there. But seeing him stand there, gazing in fascination at your records, felt very comfortable. You knew that he would respect your space, and not question it. It was a nice feeling to be able to share something so private with someone. 

“Wow... this is amazing (Y/N)... you have fantastic taste in music,” he whispered, running his hands up and down the records.

“Thank you. Some of them I don’t really listen to, they’ve just been collected from garage sales and thrift stores over the years.” You watched him in awe, every feature glowing in the low light of your room. He smiled at certain titles, pulling things out delicately to look at the covers. He was beautiful, perfect. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“Do you wanna smoke a blunt?” He asked, turning to you in excitement as he pulled out a bag of weed from his pocket.

“Of course. Just crack the window,” you responded, your eyes still locked on him.

“Perfect! Let’s listen to something, too. Do you mind rolling so I can pick something out?” He asked, handing you the plastic bag. Your hand touched his as you grabbed it from him, and you felt time freeze as your skin made contact. He was warm, soft, angelic in his touch. You wanted more, you craved more. But you let go, pulling yourself away.

You watched him pull out various records and contemplate what to put on as you carefully rolled a blunt to smoke. His face was focused and concentrated, and the furrow in his brow made you smile. You couldn’t help but smile around him. He finally pulled out an album you immediately recognized as (Y/F/A).

“How did you know?” You asked, watching him as he delicately took the record out and placed it on your player.

“What?” He giggled, biting his lip as he looked up at you.

“That's my favorite album.”

“You’re joking. It’s mine, too.” He looked up at you, your eyes once again meeting. You didn’t need to speak to know what was going through his mind. The two of you were both thinking the same thing. He broke the stare first to start playing the music, his hands gently placing the needle on the record.

The music began quietly, but filled the room around you. You lit up the blunt and began to smoke, a wave of happiness coming over you as you took in your surroundings. A beautiful boy, your favorite music, some fantastic weed. It was paradise. It was pure bliss.

You smoked the blunt in silence, both of you taking in the beauty of the music, no need for words. You watched him, his movements, enthralled by his every move. The light from the blunt lit up his face in an almost angelic way, making your heart race every time he took a puff. The more high you got, the more you wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him, love him. Love at first sight, it’s bull shit, right? But what if it isn’t? What if it’s sitting right in front of you?

“Dance with me.” Matt said, standing up quickly and reaching out his hand.

“I... what?” You asked, giggling slightly at the man who was standing in front of you.

“Dance with me. You know you want to.” He raises his eyebrows at you, hand still stuck out waiting for you. You rolled your eyes, a small laugh escaping your lips as you grabbed his hand and stood up. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. The smell of smoke and mint immediately overtook you, the warmth of his body wrapping you in comfort. Being in his arms, it was the most calming feeling in the world. It was the best feeling in the world.

In that moment, nothing else mattered to you except being with him. You would do anything to hold on to that moment. You reached your hand up to his face and touched it gently, the softened of his skin flowing on your fingertips. You brushed the few stray wisps of hair away from his face before bringing your lips up to his.

There are many different types of kisses in the world. You first kiss, which is awkward and usually terrible. A sad kiss, one where you know it will be your last kiss for a while. A lustful kiss, where you can’t keep your hands off of each other and want nothing more than to rip clothes off. But this kiss... this was a kiss you had never experienced before. It was a kiss that filled your entire body; flooded you with light and calmness, made every bad thing you’ve ever felt disappear into thin air as your lips pressed against his. It was a kiss that you knew was saved especially between two people who were meant to be. A kiss between soul mates.

As your lips worked effortlessly with his, everything else in the world disappeared except for you and him. You melted into each other, two paints seamlessly coming together to create a beautiful piece of art. You never wanted to let go of him. You never would, if it was up to you. But you needed a second, a second to catch your breath, a second to ground yourself back to reality.

You pulled away from him, your hands still locked in his hair and his on your waist. “We should go back out there. We don’t want to look suspicious,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the circumstances that led you in here in the first place.

“Of course, that’s for the best. But I promise you this is not the end of us.” Matt kissed your cheek and winked flirtatiously before heading back out to your living room. You sat quietly for a moment, your heart racing and your breathing unsteady. In that moment, you knew that was it. That was the last first kiss of your life.

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

[babybottlepop96]

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story. 

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them. 

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-" 

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!" 

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings. 

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)  

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.  

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

[oh-theatre]

Just A Remnant Now

A/n: lmao this is so bad im so sorry,,, lmaooo ITS SO BAD

TW: Death, spirit, spit, farting, destroy, pain, graphic descriptions, ANGST, no happy ending

“Im sorry Remus I cant talk to you right now, its been months and I cant figure out where this spirit energy is coming from” Logan huffs. “Tomorrow is my presentation and if i have nothing to show for it my entire funding, this project crumbles” He rambles. Remus follows him, his feet carry a sweet lightness as he listens.

“What will they do with the spirit or ghost?” Remus questions, sitting on one of the cold benches focusing hard as he fiddles with something in his hand. A cold breeze as Logan snatches the tool away from him. “Hmph” Remus pouts

“My guess? Ill get a whole team of scientists! A whole new lab with facilities and so much more! And ill tear it apart and study every aspect” Logan beams, the glint in his eye sickened Remus.

“So you'll kill it?” Remus scoffs “Seems kinda brutal”

“No ill just...take it apart to...examine its..origins and what it can do and...its a ghost what does it matter Remus?” Logan inquires, typing viciously away at his keyboard. 

“They still have feelings, their sensories are there!” Remus argues, feeling his face flush. “The way you plan to tear them apart is inhumane! Its against their will Logan, they are still forms of living. 

“They are, in every sense of the word, not Remus. They are dead, figments of what used to be. They cant feel pain, or emotion, they are a remnant” Logan explains

“They are more than that! Lo you're not listening!” Remus stands now, Logan could be intimidating but Remus towered over the scientist. 

“Im not listening because you don't know what youre talking about”  Logans cold glare would pierce anyone but not Remus. “You're just my engineer.” He spits

Though i wish we could be more, both think in unison through their frustration.

 “They have the memories of their old life, they have feelings, they have feelings of the world they must traverse through now as a spirit. They develop feelings, emotions, memories and more. They travel through to the middle ground between living and dead. If they accept it, they move on but some choose to stay!” Remus finishes, his breath cold as it spits on Logan. “Some don't have a choice! Some are tethered! But they aren't just ghosts Logan. They live in the now, through whatever means. Tearing them apart with my molecular design would kill them, and every ounce of pain felt would hurt just as much as it would to you.” Remus finishes, his body shakes, he tries his best to keep solid to the ground. 

“You've developed emotions for these things” Logan rolls his eyes. His judgment was not missed. “And if im not mistake, its your device Remus” Logan reminds

“You're right...it is” He turns to where the device sits immaculate, his design perfect. Such as the mad genius he was. He took his work in his hands, feeling every ounce of metal and wiring that was in it. Then, in the flash of an eye, the machine crashed. It fell to the ground with the force of anger, Logans shock and frozen state was unmissable as the pieces clattered around the ground. 

“What have you done” He whispers viciously. Remus stands triumphant feeling the pain inside. 

“What I should have done as soon as I made it” Remus sighs.

“Why do you care so deeply for these things! You have no idea what they are or what they do!” Logan yells, his voice echoes through the lab.

“For how smart you are.. youre so fucking dumb Logan!” Remus argues back. “For months the same spiritual energy has been popping up on your monitor! You couldn't put two and two together?” He smirks. “You really think after your failed convention last year they would send you an engineer?” 

“What are you saying” Logan breathes

“You're so dumb Logan!” Remus swipes an angered hand across the table, tools crash to the ground. 

“Stop calling me that” Remus’s accusations had cut deep.

“You call me that at least once every hour!”  The continue arguing, it hurts each of them more than can be described. Each new insult is a breach to the relationship they had built up over the past year.  Finally Remus couldn't keep it in anymore. “Im the spirit Logan!” 

the silence that fell through the lab was piercing. 

“I didn't want to move on because fuck closure, so i found you. I liked what you were doing...or at least what i thought you were doing. But once i had built the machine i could have left...but I liked you Logan. Plus you hadn't found a spirit! I thought hey maybe this will be the final piece of the puzzle...” Logans speechless breaths were terrifying. Remus cant help but reach out, he focuses allowing his hands to solidify. He takes Logans hands. “Watch” He instructs, after a quick thought Logans hands fall through Remus’s hold. 

“no no” He tries desperately to grasp to Remus, he wants to feel his hands. “No no lies lies all of it” He spirals, Remus just watches knowing this was inevitable. Remus feels a tug at his heart, he works quickly and the machine is one again. Logan remains at his desk, murmuring nonsense. 

“Lo?” Remus for all his chaos, had the softest voice. “Take me...to the demonstration tomorrow” he offers. Logan looks up finally, his eyes red from thoughts. “I was just another chess piece for your game, just use me...i don't think i wanna stay around much longer anyway” He sighs.

“No Remus. We have to stop this project.”

“what?” Remus barely breathes. 

“I was wrong...I was wrong and so misguided.” Logan admits, he has no idea if his next move would work but he takes Remus hands feeling a warmth as they stay solid in his hold. “You were never a piece...but I was wrong. Because they can feel, you feel...and I feel you” He moves a hand to Remus cheek. Logan had never seen this energetic bumble of ‘not safe for work’ jokes and buzzing laughter so...tired. And it was his fault. “You feel pain and joy and sadness and-”

“Love” Remus adds, Logan holds back his desperation. 

“I was truly an idiot, I was so focused on not looking like a failure I forgot my true goal. To discover and explore...not destroy” Logan sighs “I wanted to learn, but i let that go and became this”

“You dont wanna...destroy?” Remus cant quite wrap his head around it. 

“No god. I wanted to understand! But i let the success and money get to me. And i lost sight of who I was. You arent a danger...you are a miracle” He smiles ever so slightly. “SOmething I love so much is not worth destroying” He states

“Love?” Remus feels himself relax. 

“So..so much” Logan says

“Hah you're in love with a ghost” Remus teases, Logan sighs with a giggle and a playful eye roll. 

“I still have the machine remus” Logan threatens with a grin. Remus steps back and gasps his collar. 

“How dare thee!” He cries ever so mockingly. “I thought you cared”

“Woe is you” He laughs quickly pulling Remus into a kiss. 

Yeah its weird, but so intriguing. He expected a cold chill but received warmth in Remus’s embrace. 

They canceled the demonstration and gracefully stepped away. Years passed and Logan desperately tried to find a solution, he wanted Remus to stay, to be here in all his physical form. But on a quiet fall night, Remus was sprawled across the couch trying to dunk cheese balls into his mouth. Logan sat at his work bench concocting as he did. Logan had had his doubts over the years, Remus was a ghost. But Remus explained that the longer he was on earth he felt tethered a developed a physical form. He wasn't a human but he wasn't a ghost, almost a third party but he was real. 

But he was fading. 

And Logan worked tirelessly to find out what he could do. He had consulted with Virgil and Patton, two scientists who had done great strides for the world of science. He constantly worked alongside Janus but to no avail. Remus was fading, he would have to go soon. Remus didn't mind, all he tried to do was comfort his partner but Logan, for as smart as he was, was in deep denial. 

But this fall night, as a cheesy treat fell into Remus’s mouth his image flickered. This caught Logans eye from his work. 

“Remus?” He rushed over watching Remus sit up straight. The flickers were slow before they became full glitches and constantly. “No i need more time. Surely.” He could feel his tears coming. 

“Promise me youll find someone? Whos maybe not a farting ghost” Remus shrugs, Logan shakes his head, this wasnt the time for jokes. “Logan you knew this was coming. Also lets be honest, it was weird im a ghost”

“You're not though! You're a tethered!” He cries

“Guess my tether snapped” Remus sighs. He wanted to spend these last few moments in sweet bliss but instead, in true Logann fashion, he was arguing. “Come cuddle me you obnoxious man” He pouts

He knows its a joke but the sadness in Remus’s eyes finally catches up to the scientist. He obliges sitting with Remus. They do cuddle, and Remus finally lets go. His tears are soft and he doesnt think much but he doesnt know whats going to happen next. 

“You should get a dog” He sniffles, Logan laughs dryly stroking the messiest hair he had ever known. “Also Janus totally likes you” Remus wasnt oblivious to the way Janus looked at Logan. But he didn't mind, Logan was his...but he wanted his partner to be happy once he was gone. 

“Perhaps, but let me just...let me mourn alright?” Logan asks

“Fine, but promise me you wont mourn forever, please?” He holds up his pinky, Logan rolls his eyes but promises either way. Remus leans up a tad to kiss Logans cheek. “Lets just sit here ok?” He requests, Logan grants it. “I love you Logie” He knows that only he is allowed to call him such a name. They sit in silence, feeling the heartbeats and warmth. Every intimate move felt so careful. 

“I love you so much” He says after a moment of silence, he awaits a response but looks down to see Remus was no longer there. A small gasp as he takes to his chest. This is what it felt like, so much pain. They never conducted the experiments but as he clutched his heart and sobbed loudly he imagined this was close enough. 

#intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #write #writing #youtube #angst #no happy ending #thomas sanders #fanfic #fic #fanfiction

[batmaniskpopaf]

Can you do like a Monsta x reaction type thing to them falling in love at first sight with some random girl they see at like a cafe or something (im a sucker for fluff lol), like how they react. Or like a mtl of who believes in love at first sight.

THIS WAS MAGICAL SO THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING BBY !! THIS MADE ME SOFT!!

A/N: I DIDN’T DO MTL SINCE I FEEL LIKE THEY ALL LOWKEY DO WITH THE EXCEPTION OF HYUNGWON  AND I.M ..

SHOWNU: DAD DEFINITELY  BELIEVES IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT… SHOWNU IS TOO PURE NOT TO BELIEVE IN FIRST LOVE!! 

*HIS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT WOULD HAPPEN WHILE IN LINE AT THE CAFE*

You stand in line tapping your foot exasperated with the long wait.. .”my boss is going to kill me!” you mumble to yourself unable to calm your nerves… you were already late this morning and managed to delete his entire schedule off of your computer… you were almost too lost in your own despair to notice the man in front of you turn around… “Hi, you seem to be in a rush would you like to cut in front of me?” he was friendly with soft eyes and a warm smile… you could feel your heart skip a beat… little did you know Shownu had fallen for you the moment he heard you mumble to yourself … something he often does…

WONHO: IS A HOPELESS ROMANTIC SO OF COURSE HE BELIEVES IN TRUE LOVE!  

*HE WOULD FALL IN LOVE AS SOON AS HE SAT ACROSS FROM YOU*

Wonho would be watching you attempt to study in a corner booth of the busy cafe… he would giggle… you didn’t exactly notice him at first too frustrated with the task at hand to notice much else around you… until you heard him giggle… the sound was light and airy…a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips… you looked up to find him smiling half moons at you… your heart feeling like it’s about to burst and your ears burning… “Excuse me , do you believe in love at first sight?” he quips… 

MINHYUK:SUNSHINE WOULD BE SUPER CUTE OMG NOT ONLY DOES HE BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.. HE BELIEVES THAT LOVE FINDS YOU WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT… 

                       *SAY THE BOOK STORE ATTACHED TO THE CAFE*

You ran your fingers along the spines on the shelf before you on your quest to find the perfect book to go with your coffee… “Hi,are you looking for a particular title?”  the husky voiced stranger behind you quips… “Oh um, do you work here?” you stammer… “I might as well” he replies… walking past you to the array of books and choosing a paperback from the top shelf… “Here try this” he hands you a poetry book… “it’s a quick read because it’s under 100 pages but it’s poetry so It’ll make you think” he’s friendly and handsome … his hands are warm when he hands you the book and you feel yourself wrapped in him… “thank you! I’m sorry I didn’t get your name”  your voice is high pitched but you manage to get the whole sentence out in one breath… “Minhyuk” his voice mimics your own and you instantly feel at ease … “would you like to have some coffee?” He stammers… “Sure!” you reply… the two of you walk side by side towards the counter… Minhyuk smiles to himself… Love really does come when you least expect it…. 

KIHYUN:  HAMSTER BABY BELIEVES IN HIS OWN VERSION OF LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT… ANNOYED AT FIRST SIGHT… WITH YOUR CURRENT BOYFRIEND THAT IS… 

                              *HE’D  BE THE CHARMING BARISTA *

Kihyun could feel bile rise in his throat everytime your ex boyfriends hand would graze your own… “Please Y/N, give me another chance” he pleaded… but you couldn’t bare to look at him let alone forgive him… “You’re a totally different person to me now” you replied unable to meet his eyes… “What! there’s a different person? Like another guy?” your ex wasn’t even listening to you… how could you be with someone that’s so self involved… you mentally chastated yourself… your boyfriend’s hand wrapped tightly around your wrist… you wanted to scream for help but what could you do?… “Let go of her hand or so help my god I will tare your arm out of it’s socket’ Kihyun muttered… your ex’s eyes widened.. “Is this your rebound?” he spat mustering as much venom as he could… “Believe me I’m not a rebound” Kihyun sneered… “you ready to go babe?” he looks over at your stoic form… you simply nod because frankly that’s all you can muster at the moment… “T-Thank you”  you whimper once the two of you have made it out of the cafe… “No problem, that guy’s a jerk. You deserve to be with someone better” Kihyun wraps his arm around you …he feels warm and safe and smells like coffee … “Really?” you reply … “Yeah” his voice is velvet smooth and his eyes are so chocolatey soft you melt into them immediately… 

HYUNGWON: DESPITE LOOKING LIKE AN ANIME PRINCE HYUNGWON DOES NOT BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT… HE BELIEVES THAT LOVE LIKE ALL THINGS TAKES TIME AND YOU MIGHT NEED TO SLEEP ON IT… 

                        *HOWEVER HE DOES BELIEVE IN SEIZING THE DAY *

“Just talk to him!” your friend’s exasperated tone did little to lighten the mood… “But what if he’s seeing someone or he’s gay?” you bite your lip nervously… your eyes skimming across the cafe towards the cute guy standing at the counter… he was tall, dark and handsome… you blushed at your wayward thoughts… “Oh he’s coming over” your friend elbows you and you flinch… “Act normal” she mutters… you’re still a little flustered from her jab to really make sense of everything until he’s directly in front of you his arm resting along the back of the chair against from you… “Pardon me, is the seat taken?” he asks arching a brow … you nod unable to form a tangible sentence… “I’m Hyungwon by the way” he nods in your direction”… “Y/N” you sound bashful even to your own ears… Hyungwon smirks… his eyes fixated on your face… “Do you believe in seizing the day?” he asks right before taking a sip of his iced Americano… 

JOOHEON: I WANNA SAY JOOHONEY BELIEVES IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT BC THAT’S THE KINDA WORLD I WANNA LIVE IN OKKKRRTTT… 

   *HE WOULD FALL FOR HIS BLIND DATE AT FIRST SIGHT OF COURSE* 

Jooheon sat perfectly still in his chair… his mind was racing and his heart was pounding… What if you didn’t like him?What if he didn’t like you? he was too entranced in everything that could wrong that he almost didn’t notice you saunter in… time seemed to stop… his breath caught in his throat and he swore he heard the birds start to sing… You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen… “Jooheon?” you asked sheepishly… your voice was soft and put him at ease instantly… “Y/N?” he replied rising from his seat and walking towards you… “Nice to meet you!” he stammered… his dimples were on full display  as wrapped you in a tight hug … your heart skipped a beat at his proximity… he was warm and you felt like you could stay in that embrace forever… “Say Y/N do you believe in love at first sight?” Jooheon cooed softly in your ear… “I’m starting to” you replied… 

I.M: I HAVE SAID IT ONCE AND I WILL SAY IT AGAIN… CHANGKYUN DOES NOT BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT… 

                      *HE DOES HOWEVER BELIEVE IN SOUL MATES*

Changkyun’s fingers intertwined themselves with your own before bringing your knuckles to his lips and grazing them with a fleeting kiss… “This is the same booth where we had our first date” … “And our first fight” you interject” …”and where I asked you to be my wife” he retorts with a wink… you take a slow sip of your coffee in order to hide your wide grin… “And where you found out you’re going to be a dad… you reply cooly… Changkyun’s eyes widen… his lips curl into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen …. he wraps his arms around you so tight you’re practically on his lap…” his lips are at your forehead, cheeks and mouth all at once as he cooes sweet nothings in your ears… “Guess we’ll be eating coffee cake for two” he quips…  

ALL THIS CHEESE !!!!!!!! 

I REALLY HOPED YOU LIKED THIS BC IT WAS SOO FUN TO MAKE LIKE OMG… I LOVE MONSTA X AND THEY ARE SWEETHEARTS

#kpopwritingnet #MONSTA X MOST TO LEAST LIKELY OT7 #MONSTA X #son hyunwoo #SHOWNU #shin hoseok #WONHO #LEE MINHYUK #MINHYUK #YOO KIHYUN #KIHYUN #chae hyungwon #HYUNGWON #LEE JOOHEON #JOOHEON #I.M #im changkyun

[nastyboyluke]

late night video chats - lrh

anon asked: Here’s an imagine idea.. a girl and Luke are on FaceTime and they pull an all nighter doing crazy , fun and cute stuff and confess that they have feelings for each other (they’re still not in a relationship)

tHIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA MA HART <3333 HOPE YOU ENJOY LOVE XX ps there is so much ed sheeran going on in this imagine because i was listening to + writing it. it was very emo and fluffy night rip

it was a normal saturday evening, you were laying on your bed, listening to music while going on twitter to chat up on tea going on in the world. as you were looking at a thread of vines, a notification popped up at the top of your phone.

as your eyes scanned, it was a message from your best friend luke. the two of you have been friends since your first day of uni, in whole new land you’ve never been—australia.

cheese toastie 💛: y/n!!!

you smiled, tapping on the notification, opening fully to imessage

‘yesss :-)’

cheese toastie 💛: im so bored and i dont feel like sleeping tonight idk why but you wanna face time all night?

a giggle left your lips as you read the message at his silly excuse to talk to you. although you were friends with luke, your feelings couldnt help but further into stronger feelings for the blue eyed aussie.

‘sure let me get my laptop and ill call you when im ready lol’

cheese toastie 💛: ill be waiting <3

little things like luke simple sending a heart would make your heart flutter with happiness. but deep down you knew luke didn’t see that way. he did it in a friendly way. in fact, he even told you he had a major crush on girl but he’s not sure whether or not he should tell her how he felt because he didn’t want to possibly ruin the friendship they have now.

it hurt that you knew luke had eyes on someone else, but you were happy for him none the less.

once you got your laptop ready to go hooked up to a charger, you opened up facetime, clicking on lukes contact. it only took a second for him to answer. next thing you knew you were looking at his little button nose and blue eyes.

“hello?” his mouth was obviously very close to the mic because it boomed through your laptops speakers.

you laughed loudly at how silly he was. “hey weirdo.” you continued to giggle. luke pulled the camera back, so you could see him fully. he rested his phone on whatever it was, checking that it wouldnt fall.

you were 99.9% sure luke was looking at himself in the corner as he was checking his hair before clearing his throat and waving at you.

“are you done checking yourself out lucas?” you asked, grabbing a pillow to hug in your arms.

“dont act you were watching, y/n” he rolled his eyes. luke had pulled a tub of ice cream into frame with a big spoon. “welcome to my muckbang! wait, muckabang or mookbong? im so confused with how you pronounce it.”

“i think its pronounced mookbang. im pretty sure.” you shrugged, watching him spoon some ice cream into his mouth.

“weird. anyways, hows your day?” luke smiled, tilting to the side like a puppy.

“im okay. can i copy your notes by the way for music theory?” you asked, cuddling your pillow. luke looked so cute, he had messy hair with small bags under his eyes with his unshaven face and a pink floyd shirt that feels he practically lives in.

“oops, kinda forgot to do that too. it’s okay we can get starbucks and do it together then.” he shrugged, shoving more ice cream into his mouth. oh did you forget, that his lipring? yeah thats super hot.

for a while, you and luke talked about school, and what was coming—mainly exams which none of you weren’t looking for—until you were just watching him to continue to eat ice cream.

“y/n?”

“yes?”

luke was about to get serious, you sensed it. because he sat his ice cream aside and was sitting up now in his seat. “you know that girl i told you about?”

“yeah, but why wont you just tell me her name rather then just calling her ‘the girl?’” you pouted, folding your arms across your chest.

“because… you know her and like—i dont know—i just dont want to!” luke was now pouting making you giggle.

“oh my god—its zoe isnt it?! or ashley?!” you gasped.

“no! its none of them! ANYWAYS,” he sighed, luke began to fiddle around with his lip ring. aw, he was getting so nervous talking about her. “i think im gonna finally tell her. like really, really soon.”

a smile went across your lips, although you were sad on the inside, you still gotta cheer your best friend on. “really?! wait oh my god you should do it now! i wanna see this go own live.”

“maybe later. i dunno.” he shrugged, his cheeks were pink. luke grabbed his ice cream again. “its time for a dance party nowwwwww.” he got up from his seat, coming back with his laptop. he began to play shape of you by ed sheeran, dancing in your seat.

the both of you were singing along to the years, bopping along to the song. although your music tastes were very different, one thing you and luke will always agree was on ed sheeran. in fact, the two of you even went to see him concert a few months back and you had the time of the life.

luke at this point was up on his couch, swaying his hips and screaming the lyrics. you laughed so hard that your ribs began to hurt. the sugar in the ice cream was definetly kicking into his system.

this continued for another two hours, making it already midnight. after laughing so much at how stupid luke had been, your stomach pratically hurt. finally the boy settled down, grabbing a blanket, wrapping it around him.

“i wish we could cuddle right now, its fuckin cold in my apartment.” he groaned, lowering his music so you could hear him.

“ha its the perfect temperature in my place.” you stuck your tongue out at the camera. the blue eyed boy simply just rolled his eyes and continued to groan.

“luke can you sing me my favorite song?” you asked, giving him a big smile. “pleaseeeee?”

“why should i?” luke asked, already grabbing his guitar and a pick off his coffee table, checking if it was in tune.

“because youre my fwend.” you said in your baby voice making him giggle a little bit.

“okay only because you’re my best fwend.”

lukes calloused fingers began to pluck at the strings to create the tune of lego house by ed sheerans. lukes strong yet soft voice belted out the beautiful words of ed, making your heart swell. you watched the boy quickly get deep into the song and his feelings, keeping his eyes shut majority of time. however, when luke did open his eyes, he looked at you.

just as luke got deep into the song, you did too. so much at tears streamed down your cheeks.

“and its a dark cold decemeber, but ive got you keep me warm

if youre broken, ill mend you

and keep you sheltered from the storm thats raging now.”

he sang the last part, opening his beautiful crystal eyes, looking at you wide eyed.

“are you crying? im sorry! i didnt mean to!” he began to panic, luke hated to see you cry.

“you’re just that good of a singer luke,” you laughed, wiping your tears. “you make me cry.”

he gave you a little smile, putting his guitar aside. luke picked up his phone, walking somewhere, then was now laying down in his bed. you sniffled, wiping your eyes as you watched his sleepy face.

“can i tell you a secret?” the boy asked softly. you nodded for him to proceed with what he wanted to say. “the girl that i’ve been telling you about, well, it’s you. you’re the girl.” once luke said those words, a small giggle left his lips. he searched your face through the screen to see how you felt, but he wasn’t sure.

you however, sat there in shock. “you—you like me?” you stuttered looking, going wide eyed now.

“yes, y/n, i like you—like a lot.” luke was smiling big, running his finger through his hair.

“oh my god.” you laughed out loud to the ceiling. “you’re not joking right?”

luke laughed now. “no im not! why would i joke about that with you!”

you smiled back at him, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth. “i like you too luke. i thought never in a million years that you would have feelings for me back.”

“well i do.” he stuck his tongue out at you. “i wish i could—kiss you.” once those words left his lips, luke’s cheek went pink.

“then come over and make it a reality.”

-

next thing you knew, you were running to the door once luke texted you that he was here. when you swung the door open, you looked at him. the blue eyed boy took a step forward, grabbing your face as your arms went around his waist.

“i’ve been dreaming about this moment forever.” you whispered. luke let out a gentle laugh before connecting your lips with his.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos writing #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings blurb #luke 5sos #collegestudent!luke #bestfriend!luke #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford

[new-to-this123]

Butterflies

As per requested

Hi! Can you write a Justin Foley x Reader where him and the reader they have a really cute date at Rosie's?

i hope you like it and its what you wanted! :) 

Justin Foley X Reader

Warning: none 

word count: 1743

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

Moving to a new school at the middle of your sophomore year sucked. Everyone had known each other forever and here you were, the new girl. You hated it. You were so mad at your parents for taking you away from your best friends in Canada and taking you to another country all together. You were hundreds of miles away from the friends that you'd known since preschool.

“Y/N wake up honey you don’t wanna be late for your first day” your mother said softly shaking your sleeping body.

“Urg im up” Y/N gronned.

You got up and tried to decide what to wear. Dress? Nope. Skirt? Nope. Everything you tried on, you hated. After ten minutes of trying on a variety of clothes you settled with a black pair of skinnies and a blue lace up tank top. You walked downstairs, kissed your parents goodbye and headed out, to walk to school.

What a school. A real life american school. You had seen them on Tv, but never in real life. You were hoping that it wasn't as bad as the high schools you and your canadian friends had seen on tv. What a big school. You walked up the stairs leading to the door. You could see and feel all the eyes on you. You really disliked it.

“Heey new girl, come here” you heard someone yell. You turned around to see a group of guys all wearing white and blue lettermans. They all looked at you waving you over. You walked over to them slowly, not sure if it was a good idea. As soon as you got there, a blue eyed boy, with brown hair and the sexiest smile you've ever seen, caught your eye. He was also the first one to talk.

“Where you from cutie?” the blue eyed boy asked

“Canada” you replied smiling at him

“Wow what brings you here? To liberty?” another blue eyed boy, with very prominent cheekbones asked you.

“Wow these guys are so hot” you thought to yourself before replying sarcastically

“well liberty is the only high school in the area so thats why im here.”

“No shit.. He meant what brings you to town” a tall brown eyed brown haired beauty asked you.

“Wow he's a jerk” you thought to yourself again.

“My dad owns a chain of stores and it brought us here to expand”

The bell rang signaling it was time to get to class. The first three periods went by, very, very slow. You sat alone in all of them. None of the guys you were talking to this morning were in your classes.  Now it was lunch time. you walked into the cafeteria and froze. “Wow this is just like an american high school” you thought to yourself looking around, at where you could sit.

“Hey new girl! Come sit with us” the sexy smile guy yelled at you from the other side of the cafeteria.

You walked over, and sat beside him.

“And my names Y/N Y/L/N. just so you can stop calling me New girl” you said looking at him.

“My names Justin. Justin Foley.” he replied giving you a killer smile.

“This is bryce, thats scott, thats monty, thats Zach, Thats jeff” Justin said introducing you to all the guys that were sitting at the table.

The rest of the day went by so fast. It was finally home time and you were just about to walk out of school when you felt a hand on your shoulder and heard “ hey Y/N can we talk for a second”

You turned around to see justin foley.

“Sure whats up justin?” you asked looking at him

“Uum. i was uh, i was wondering if you'd be, if you'd want to go on a date, with uh me” justin asked you nervously.

“Uh um sure. When?” you asked with a smile on your face.

“ how about tonight? I can pick you up, say, 7?” he says with a big smile on his face.

“Ok” you reply writing down your phone number

“Text me and i'll text you my address.” You smile walking away.

You sped walked home. You were so excited. As soon as you got home you ran to your room, went to your computer, and messaged your canadian friends.

Y/N: Omg you guys will never guess what just happened!!!! Rose:WHAT? I NEED DEETS NOW!!!! Sabrina: OMG WHAT??? Julia: WHAT?? Stop with the suspense!!!!!!! Y/N: The hottest guy in my new school just asked ME!!!! Out on a DATE!!! You read that right A DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sabrina: OMG I WANT TO KNOW EVERY DETAIL AFTER!!!!! Julia: EEEEEEEEK ME TOO!!!!!! Rose: ME TOO ME TOO ME TOO!!!

You got ready for your date. A cute little black dress, with your hair straightened and black flats. Yoiur phone buzzed multiple times

“Hey Y/N”

“its Justin”

“ i need your address”

“so i can pick you up”  

You gave justin your address and giggled to yourself. Roughly ten minutes passed when you got a text from justin saying he was at your house. You ran down stairs yelling “Bye mom, Bye dad” and rushed out the door.

When you got outside, you saw justin standing by a black suv with big head lights.

“Hey Y/N” justin said kissing your cheek then opening the passenger door. You got into the suv, and the blue eyed boy ran to the driver side.

“So where we going Justin?”

“ i was thinking Rosies. It's a diner. They have amazing milkshakes and fries and burgers” justin said looking over at you smiling his killer smile.

“haha i like all those things!” you replied laughing.

You got to rosies and you were in awe at how homey it felt.

“Wow we didn't have anything like this back home” you told justin.

“Ya rosies is great” he replies leading you to a booth.

You sat across from justin. You looked at the menu. Up and down. There was so many options. How were you going to make up your mind?

“Justin there's way too many options. Help me out” you asked over dramatically.

“ get a shake for sure. Classic chocolate is the best. And their cheese burgers are to die for.”

The waitress walked up to your table.

“ hello can i take your order?”

“ i'll get a chocolate shake and a cheeseburger please” you said

“ i'll get the same thing” justin answered, looking at you.  

The food arrived, you took a sip of your shake.

“Oh my god this is so good” you said with a smile.

“Now try the burger” justin replied holding up your burger so you could take a bite.

You took a bite and shook your head up and down.

“This is good.”

You were mind blown at how nice this guys was. Justin fed you your french fries as he asked you about your life in canada, your friends and of course, the stereotypes.

“ no justin we don't live in igloos. We live in houses”

“No we don't have dog sled, we have cars.”

“No its not snowy all the time we actually get four seasons”

It was amusing. He was a nice guy. He as very good with his words as well. A smooth talker.

“ you know you're smile is amazing. And you look very pretty tonight. i .. i mean you looked pretty at school too, but that dress. Wow! Stuuuuuuuning” he smiled and laughed

“And you look just as nice!”

Justin stood up and sat beside you in the booth.  He smiled as he placed his hands on yours.

You looked at your intertwined hands and blushed. You sat there, looking at each other, smiling.

“ you know we could be the next power couple of liberty” justin said as he winked.

“Power couple?” you questioned.

“Ya” justin said as he move a strand of hair behind your ear, biting his lip. You bit your lip, looking from his eyes to his lips. He leaned in slowly, cupping your face. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He closed the gap between you guys. Your lips touching, they were in sink right away. Almost like you were made for each other. The kissing continued before the waitress broke your moment.

“Is this together or seperate for your bill?” she asked

“Seperate” You said at the exact same time that justin said together.

You blushed even harder.

“ oh wow justin you don't have too” you told him

“Naw its ok. I'm not gonna take a pretty girl like you out and not pay.” justin answered you.

He paid for the bill and grabbed your hand as you got up from your seat. You walked out of rosies hand in hand. Justin leading you to the passenger door of his black suv. Before opening the door, he pushed you up against the car door, cupping your face, kissing you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy. You kissed for a few minutes before he pulled away.

“I should probably get you home. I don't need your parents hating me on the first date.” Justin said as he opened the passenger door for you

“Just so you know, i don't have a curfew. Never have.” you replied as he drove off in the direction of your house.

Justin pulled up to your house. “Thank you for tonight” you said as you leaned against the middle compartment.

“No, thank you for joining me. And making my night amazing.” he replied leaning in closer to you.

Your lips touched again. He kissed you passionately. Like no one has ever kissed you.

“So do you wanna be my girlfriend?” justin asked between kisses.

You pulled away asking “ did you just ask me to be your girlfriend?”

“yes . i did. I had great time tonight. And you're a great girl and i can be myself around you. And i like you.” justin told you as he grabbed your hands.

“ yes haha Yes ok i'll be your girlfriend” you said leaning in to kiss justin. He kissed you back.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” you said to him between kisses. You kissed a few more times before you opened the passenger door and walked out, waving to your new boyfriend as he waited for you to get into your house before driving off.

#justin foley #bryce walker #montgomery de la cruz #alex standall #tyler down #marcus cole #scott reed #jeff atkins #13 reasons why #13rw #13rw imagine #tony padilla #ryan shaver