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She’s Still Preoccupied With 1985 🎤 | Bob Floyd x Rockstar!reader Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x modern-day rockstar!reader (childhood best friends/romantic), dagger squad (platonic), Bob x female!oc (past romance), male!oc x reader (past romance), The 1985’s!BandOCs (platonic)

Content Warnings: major fluff, angst, profanity, canon divergence (Bob is born in 1985 in this, making him roughly 34 during TGM & 37 in the year 2022), pop culture references, second chance romance troupe, suggestive content and light smut + implied smut (MINORS DNI!!) inspired by the song ‘1985,’ by Bowling For Soup | Female!reader—afab!reader (she/her) | wc: 17.2k

Premise: Join Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as he looks back on his fairytale love story with childhood best friend and real life rockstar, who’s set to perform one last time on the country’s most iconic stage, in her band’s final show of their farewell tour.

Note: so after I wrote ‘It’s A Long Way To The Top’ with Maverick x 80sRockstar!reader, I had inspiration for someone from the dagger squad x modern-day rockstar!reader. I was going back and forth between Rooster and Phoenix, but this anon suggested Bob with a rekindled childhood best friend and I thought that was the bullseye. Once again feel free to imagine your friends as your bandmates, I just gave names to make it easier to write. I do not own any of the song or pop culture references, this is for fictional purposes. Let me know what you think! - Bee 🐝

Songs that are real life songs, but are used as ‘your’ songs in this imagine: ‘1985’ by Bowling For Soup, ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls, ‘Some Nights,’ by Fun, ‘Pompeii’ by Bastille, ‘Payphone,’ by Maroon 5, ‘Let’s Get Lost,’ by Bats for Lashes & Beck, ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go’ & ‘Little Black Dress’ by One Direction.

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Lt. Robert Floyd had seen a lot in his 37 years of life. Growing up on the plains of Montana, there wasn’t much for him until it came time to leave for college. There, life seemed to pass by quicker than the night sky. He’d experienced the hype of a Navy vs Army football game, getting wasted to the point he hated alcohol. Endless nights of studying that paid off when he received not only his diploma but also the rank of Ensign in the U.S. Navy. Then there was that time he nearly married his college sweetheart only to end things weeks before the wedding because he realized his heart belonged to someone else. In his career Bob pulled Gs with his pilot against the speed of sound in an F-18 and most recently, dogfighting SAMs out of enemy territory.

But no words could describe what Bob felt as he stood on the floor of Madison Square Garden with the people he called his best friends, waiting for the appearance of his one true love on stage.

The love that was once thought to be impossible, until fate was like, “These souls belong together. Once the time is right, I will work my magic.”

17 years prior in 2005, Bob was certain he’d never get the chance to tell Y/n L/n he had loved her since they were fifteen years old after hearing her voice on the radio.

“That was Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Since U Been Gone,’ part of her Grammy nominated album Breakaway released last summer. Clarkson is the favorite to win the award for ‘Album of the Year’ at next year’s Grammys. Up next is a new group recently signed to Capitol Records….here is ‘1985’ by, funny enough, The 1985s”

Something about the name of the group and title of the song had an odd feeling swirl through the then college student. Driving the car he was in was his roomate Derek and their buddy Adrian along with Derek’s girlfriend Willow.

Nothing could’ve prepared Bob for the voice coming through the speakers, the lyrics bringing back the memory of when she showed him the paper with them written down in her semi-sloppy handwriting.

“Debbie just hit the wall, she never had it all.”

“One Prozac a day, husband’s a CPA.”

“Bob, you okay?” Adrian tapped him on the shoulder, “You look a little pale.”

“Her dreams went out the door when she turned twenty-four.”

“Only been with one man, what happened to her plan?”

“This has a good beat,” Willow bopped her head.

“She was gonna be an actress, she was gonna be a star.”

“She was gonna shake her ass on the hood of Whitesnake’s car.”

“My mom could definitely relate to that,” Derek joked, stopping at a red light. He too was enjoying the song. It gave that classic rock feel that the 80s music his parents listened to had. Nowadays Hip-Hop and Pop are becoming the main genres of music on the radio.

“Her yellow SUV is now the enemy.”

“Looks at her average life and nothin’,” *guitar riff* “has been,” *guitar riff* “alright.”

Bob, who’s eyes were wide and heart racing, breathed in awe, “No way.”

“Since Bruce Springsteen, Madonna,”

“Way before Nirvana,”

“There was U2 and Blondie,”

“And music still on MTV.”

“Her two kids in high school,”

“They tell her that she’s uncool.”

“‘Cause she’s still preoccupied,”

Tears spring in Bob’s eyes, wiping them away before his friends could see when Y/n sang the final line of the chorus.

“With 19, 19…1985.”

That was how the future naval aviator discovered his childhood best friend had accomplished her dream. Breaking into the music industry. It’d been nearly four years since he’d seen Y/n, the two parting ways after her father took an accounting job in California, uprooting the teenager and her family from their home state of Montana.

They’d grown up on the same street, both their moms teaching at the elementary school. The two had pretty much gone through every grade together considering their school was small with few teachers. Every year they were in the same class, often sitting next to each other and spending time after school on the playground while their moms finished up for the day. Bob spent nearly every moment with Y/n as kids, becoming best friends when they were only five years old. But it wasn’t until the boy was twelve that he realized what a crush was….and boy did he have one on her.

Cherishing their friendship, poor Bob didn’t say anything about his surfacing feelings for his best friend. Even when the news of her moving was announced when they were 16, Bob remained quiet. It pained him to do so but he’d rather have her in his life than risk losing her if she didn’t feel the same.

In all the years Bob Floyd knew Y/n L/n, music was her life. It consumed her entire being with the young girl always humming a tune or singing along on the radio. When she was given a keyboard and guitar for Christmas, Y/n self-taught herself how to play until they could afford to put her in lessons. Then there were the notebooks.

At first it started as sticky notes with a verse or two, then it turned into loose pages of lyrics before finally the teenager wrote them all into notebooks. Anytime inspiration came to Y/n she was writing it down on whatever she could find. Napkins at a restaurant, receipts from her mother’s grocery run, hell even on her arm Y/n was writing lyrics so she wouldn’t forget. Sometimes she’d have the whole song complete before settling on a title, or a catchy title would come to mind but the lyrics would take time. Bob would always get annoyed when she’d steal his pen from out of his hand, but would let it go, understanding she had to write it down before she lost it.

At a football game he witnessed her unable to find a pen in time to write something on her arm before the lyric faded away. The teenager nearly sobbed right there in the middle of the stands, face in her hands as though to will herself to remember. “Are you okay,” Bob whispered, to which he received a sad groan.

“No….please don’t interrupt my thinking. I’m having a crisis, Robby.”

Y/n’s mom, who mentally still lived in the 80s, was the inspiration for her song ‘1985’, Y/n wrote at 15. Bob could still remember the day she raced up to their reserved lunch table, planting the paper in front of him, “Read this,” she was out of breath, but smiling nonetheless. Picking it up, Bob adjusted his glasses and let his eyes read over the words scribbled down that were separated into: intro, verse 1, chorus, verse 2, chorus, bridge, chorus, & outro.

“Wow,” he reads over the lyrics again, brows raised and feeling a connection to the song. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact it was likely titled ‘1985,’ which also happened to be the year they were born. “This is amazing, Y/n. Almost like….wait is this about your mom?” As her best friend growing up, Y/n’s mother was like a second mom to him….so Bob knew her obsession with the 80s and how she had plans to be an actress before she and her high school sweetheart, Y/n’s father, got married after college and had Y/n when they were 24. Then they had her siblings afterward and both changed their course of careers in order to raise them. The line that said ‘husband’s a CPA,’ is what really gave it away considering her father was an accountant. Debbie wasn’t her mother’s name, but even a rocket scientist could piece it together Debbie represented her.

Glancing up, he sees her guilty expression, offering a light shrug. “Is it that obvious?”

Bob never forgot that song. Even with all the ones Y/n showed him afterwards and when they lost touch two years after she moved, he never once forgot the song, ‘1985’.

It was a sad day when she told him the news. They were halfway through junior year, college applications around the corner and setting up for SATs/ACTs when she dropped the bomb, “My dad’s being transferred to California.”

The Coca-Cola he’d been drinking nearly went all over his steering wheel when he coughed, her words sending him into shock. “W-what-you’re moving?!”

“Next month,” she mumbled, head down to hide her face from his view. “My dad is there now looking at places for us. In the meantime Mom is dealing with the house while also applying to schools in the area my dad’s gonna be working.”

“Where?” Bob asks after a moment of silence, allowing him to fully process the news.

His best friend—who he was in love with—was leaving him.

Y/n sighed before replying with a sad chuckle, “Los Angeles. You know I would feel excited, seeing it was my plan to move to L.A after graduation, but I just can’t bring myself to.”

“Why?” Bob says softly with a frown, “This is your dream, Y/n. All you’ve wanted was to go there and audition for American Idol—or whatever that singing show is.” He was trying really hard to cheer her up, pushing down his heartbreak all the while. “This is your chance.”

“Yeah, but….” She glanced out the window, “what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t even know if I wanna go to college—which my mom still scolds me every time she gets the chance because she thinks I’m a fool to wanna pursue music. You know how it is,” Y/n gives Bob a knowing look, “she thinks of her life and wants me to go to school before selling my life away to a 9-5. I know she’s looking out for me, but God, let me make my own mistakes.” Her head leans on the window, “If it doesn't work out then that’s on me. But I’m not gonna give it up just because it seems out of reach. That’s what back up plans are for.”

Silence fills the car, the two letting their thoughts wonder. “Promise me something, Robby.”

“Anything,” he doesn’t hesitate.

“Promise me that even though I’m leaving, we’ll still be best friends. We’ll still write letters or talk on the phone…just don’t give up on me.”

Taking her hand in his, hoping she doesn’t feel the slight tremor as the words he so desperately wants to say are on the tip of his tongue, Bob gives her a look of love which she likely would believe is one of sincerity, “you’re my best friend, Y/n. I believe you will accomplish everything you set your mind to. When you make it big, I’ll be cheering you on every second and until then, we’ll talk every day if we have to,” he makes a face after thinking, “though maybe narrow it down to once a week so my mom doesn’t kill me for the phone bill.”

That makes Y/n laugh before reaching over the console to hug him. Arms go around his neck while his one arm awkwardly wraps around her side.

“I love you, Robby,” she tells him, sending his heart soaring. “You’re the only person I can count on in this whole damn world.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” ‘More than what you could possibly know.’ “I’ll always be here for you. Forever.”

He never thought he’d break that promise. But around the time of graduation things became so hectic in Bob’s life on top of the fact he was hurting. Hurting because he loved Y/n, and anytime they would talk on the phone or send letters he was reminded of the fact she was in California while he was stuck in Montana and they could never be together. Bob felt the only way he could save his heart and move on from that love was by cutting contact. It was his fault and he knew it when the letters eventually stopped coming and the phone stopped ringing every Friday. His mother could only relay an excuse to the girl so many times before Y/n eventually gave up. The last letter she sent him came two months after their last phone call, “So much for always being there, Robby. Have a good life, I hope it treats you well. -Y/n.”

He didn’t know what happened to her until two years later when ‘1985’ played for the first time on the radio for the whole world to hear. Tears lined his eyes, the man having to look out the window away from his friends. The flooding of emotion was overpowering, forming a sob in his throat.

She did it. She’s on the radio like she always dreamed.

“That was ‘1985’ the debut single of incoming rock band, The 1985s. Hits the nostalgia I gotta say—I feel we’re looking at some fresh new faces to the scene. Can’t wait to see what they have to offer in the future.”

The prediction of the radio host came true, when in 2006 the group released their debut album Established in 1985. Like their name, it referenced the year all members were born in which included frontwoman and occasional guitar player Y/n L/n, bassist Thomas Quinn, guitarist Farrah Cortez, drummer Xavier Hernandez, and keyboardist Pepper Renolds. All met at the University of California Los Angeles, and funny enough none were students in the music program. They were all in STEM/humanities with Y/n studying sociology with a minor in music, meeting the others when they formed a study group after they all had the same prerequisite classes their second semester.

It was at one of their meetups that Y/n couldn’t help but sing along to Journey’s ‘Faithfully’ and The Who’s ‘We Don’t Get Fooled Again,’ as they played on the little radio in the corner. “Damn Y/n,” Thomas looked amazed, “You got a voice, girl. How come you’re not studying music?”

“Same reason why you aren’t—don’t give me that look, Quinn, I saw that bass in your place when we were there last week.”

Next thing they knew Pepper mentioned she was a pianist who was progressing onto keyboard. Then Farrah said she played guitar and Xavier smirked, “all y’all need is a drummer and you can be a band….oh wait, have I ever told y’all I play drums?”

And thus, the 1985’s were born.

Months were dedicated to them building their sound and learning to be a band all while keeping up with their school work. Y/n was the brain behind all their songs, literally dropping the pile of notebooks onto the table one day saying, “I’ve got at least four albums worth of songs in these…maybe even more.” Working little by little they eventually got the tunes for several that they knew they’d want to release first if they managed to get discovered. MySpace was just starting out and Y/n took it upon herself to be bold, creating a profile for them. She listed her information since they didn’t have a band email set up. That would hopefully come in the future.

It was on MySpace that their lives changed forever.

Roughly after a year of working nonstop to create songs and develop their sound, the band uploaded a video onto the platform for ‘1985,’ in May of 2004. It almost looked like a music video, teaming up with students from the drama programs who were in need of doing their end of semester project. They had someone play Debbie, her husband, the two kids, and a group of extras. Even the yellow SUV Y/n’s mom drove was used as well as a poster of Duran Duran for the line in the second verse. The band would be in clips throughout the video, Y/n singing and playing the guitar. It took them the whole night spray painting a makeshift logo of ‘The 1985’s’ onto Xavier’s drum set.

When they first uploaded the video they were all like, “Even if no one sees it, this was still fun as hell to make.”

But little did they know it was going to be seen by many eyes…..including an executive of Capitol Records.

Y/n was just coming home from her shift at a local diner when she checked her email, dropping the water bottle in her hand and letting out an ear-piercing scream that woke her roommates.

“Y/n, my name is Martin Plaza and I’m a talent exec at Capitol Records. A member of my team came across your video on MySpace and we were impressed by your band and song, ‘1985’. We’d like to set up a meeting if you all are interested and please bring any demos you may have. Email me back as soon as possible or give me a call using the number listed below. Hope to hear from you soon. Regards, Martin Plaza.”

Y/n and the group could hardly contain their reaction at the meeting when Martin and a few members of Capitol Records were visibly pleased with what they were hearing. With so many songs they had recorded, they settled on bringing five, including ‘1985,’ and ‘Some Nights,’ which they were planning on uploading to MySpace next.

Martin and the team had excused themselves briefly before returning with the offer: a six year contract with Capitol Records releasing at least three albums during that period.

You can bet your ass they agreed. Signing their names before the sun could set on the horizon.

Champagne popped that night with Y/n crying against the receiver of her pink Motorola as she informed the news to her family. Her mother cried with her, her dad celebrating in the background while her siblings were like, “Don’t forget me when you become famous, sis.” What made her sad though after the call ended was when she went to dial Robby’s number, only to close the phone with a sigh. It’d been over a year since they last spoke, Y/n unsure where he even was or if he had a cell phone. The only number she knew was his home phone.

Curiosity and slight anger rising, Y/n dialed the number saved as his home landline, not surprised when his mother answered. “Y/n! Why hello, darling, I wasn’t expecting your call tonight.”

“Hi, Mrs. Floyd,” she sniffed, feeling tears prick in her eyes again. Y/n was not used to addressing the older woman by her last name. It felt awkward now to call her by her first. “I know he’s probably not going to come to the phone…but if Robby—Robert is there, could I…could I just speak with him please? It’s important.”

“Oh honey,” that was enough to indicate it wouldn’t happen. Y/n looked up to the sky, heart breaking in two at the fact her so called best friend, who she loved more than anything in the world, had completely discarded her. “Robert is uhh—he’s at the Naval Academy, sweetheart, I can give you his email or cell number—.”

“No-no-no,” Y/n interrupted, stunned by the news. “It’s fine. Uh, just never mind.”

“Honey—.”

“Sorry to bother you so late, Mrs. Floyd. Take care and thank you for your help.” Placing the phone in her pocket, Y/n allowed the tears to flow freely before moving back inside to where the party was. Only she could hardly enjoy it now. Instead she let her feet carry her over to the notebook placed on her backpack, removing a pen hastily from the pencil pouch and scribbling down the lyrics that were screaming in her head. The words that took over the paper went onto become their Grammy award winning singles, ‘Iris,’ and ‘Payphone.’ Iris became so popular it was used in several movies and tv shows after its release in 2006, earning the band the Grammy for ‘Record of the Year,’ to go along with their ‘Best Rock Performance by a Duo/Group’ and ‘Album of the Year’, three MTV moonmen including ‘Video of the Year’ and the American Music Award for ‘Song of the Year.’ Payphone was just as successful, topping the Billboard Hot 100 for 20 consecutive weeks and winning just as many awards as Iris.

Anytime the songs played on the radio or wherever he was, Bob had to change the station or frown until it ended. Deep down, he could feel they were about him—hurting him even more at the realization Payphone was basically saying how Y/n loved him and was trying to move on. Just in the way Y/n sang combined with the lyrics telling a story, it was obvious he had broken her heart. And they weren’t even together. They were just best friends…..who were too stupid enough to not admit their feelings for each other.

His senior year of college Y/n and the group were starting to become big, all the members taking a break from college in order to build their careers as musicians. Often Bob would check in to see how Y/n was, tuning into award shows to watch them perform. Pride and awe filled him watching her sing, living her dream just as he believed she would. He hated that he broke his word to her, and it seemed to affect Y/n whenever she performed Iris and Payphone, putting every ounce of emotion into each lyric.

At 21 Bob had finally entered a relationship with a nice girl from the Naval Academy. The possibility of him reuniting with Y/n was long out of the picture and his friends were getting on him to finally break out of his shell. They had no idea of his connection to the rockstar, but they could tell anytime they were on the radio Bob’s demeanor changed. Abby, a sweet pre-law student at the Naval Academy, was his first serious commitment, the two bonding over similar interests and plans for the future. Hope rose at what it could hold.

Until she and their friends decided they wanted to go see The 1985’s concert.

It was 2007, they’d just graduated and were commissioned to the rank of Ensign’s waiting to be shipped off to their respective duty stations. And Bob was engaged…..but he hadn’t really proposed in the traditional way. It was more of Abby pointing out if they wanted to get stationed together then it was best for them to get married and he just agreed. But a big part of him was hesitant to go through with it.

The news of Abby and their friends' desire to go to the concert made his stomach drop and head spin. Still in Maryland, they had gotten tickets to the show in New York at Madison Square Garden which was only a couple hours away. Abby had went ahead and got them as a surprise for Bob, not telling him until the day before the show.

“You guys go,” Bob initially said, praying she couldn’t pick up on the anxiety in his voice. “I—uh—I’ve got some things to get done—.”

“What things?” She scoffed, shaking her head as she laid out the outfit she planned to wear. “School is over, you aren’t planning to see your family until next week, and you don’t leave for flight school till the end of summer. What could you possibly do tomorrow night, Bobby?” He mentally cringed at the nickname, unconsciously thinking of how Y/n would call him Robby.

This wasn’t a good idea and he knew it. Already he was starting to think of her again. More and more by the second. Feelings were resurfacing, and Bob was fighting them hard. If he saw her on stage it was only going to confirm what he already knew.

That Y/n owned his heart. And no one else would have it. Not even Abby.

In the end, Bob found himself on the floor of Madison Square Garden of all places, wondering just how the hell their friends managed to get the area. The band was touring for their debut album, selling out within seconds and what made it more historic were they managed to get The Garden in their first ever tour. Usually groups/artists had years before they played at the Garden, settling for smaller venues in New York, but the 1985’s had become sensations.

The entire time they waited for the band Bob’s hands were shaking, the man unable to contain his tremor with each minute. Abby asked at one point, but brushed it off as him being excited when he didn’t give her an answer.

He was a little excited….but mostly fucking terrified.

Especially because they were very close to the stage. Like if one of the members happened to walk close to where they were standing they’d be spotted.

Bob should’ve fucking knocked on wood.

When the band came out Madison Square Garden erupted, Y/n belting out the lyrics to their opening number, looking like an actual dream. Her look was more of a modern take on rock n roll but still looked classic. Black leather adorned her body with cutouts to showcase some skin, arms covered in ink from the various tattoos and hips rolling to the beat of the drums causing the crowd to go crazy.

Y/n really knew how to work the stage and make it her bitch.

Bob was mesmerized. Utterly speechless as his eyes glued to the woman he once called his best friend. All he could do was stand there and stare, while willing his heart to calm down by how fast it was beating.

It was to be a two hour show at the least, and Bob didn’t know if he wanted to leave as quickly as he could or wishing the show would last forever. Seeing Y/n up close and performing before a crowd made him feel things he didn’t know were possible. Her dazzling smile, dancing across the stage and playing the guitar was everything he could’ve dreamed for her.

He loved her. Bottom line, Bob loved Y/n like no other.

When their eyes connected 30 minutes before the concert ended, causing Y/n to drop the microphone and throw her off for the remainder of the concert, Bob knew he couldn’t marry Abby.

He wasn’t sure if Y/n recognized him at first, but the rockstar had approached the side he was standing at to interact with the crowd when her gaze landed on his. Eyes widening, Y/n literally dropped the microphone causing the impact to echo through the speakers. Bob’s cheeks went bright red, unable to look away in their 2-second staring contest until Y/n blinked rapidly and cursed.

“Shit,” he saw her mouth as soon as the microphone hit the platform, bending down quickly to pick it up. “Sorry about that guys,” she nervously laughed, eyes glancing at Bob as though to make sure they weren’t deceiving her. A sharp intake of breath indicated she realized it wasn’t a trick. Walking backwards until she was back to the middle of the stage where the band was, Y/n’s tone became flustered, “U-uh, we only got a couple songs left in the show. We’re gonna take a quick five minute break so just hang tight.”

Bob could see the looks of concern from her friends/bandmates as she ran off stage, the group following behind. His heart dropped, rubbing a hand over his face to calm down the anxiety in his veins.

“What the hell was that about?” Derek laughed, “It was like she saw a ghost or something.” Everyone besides Bob agreed, none seeing the way Abby was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

When the band returned for the final act Y/n did her best to not look at the section Bob was in. Unlike everyone else in attendance, the Navy officer could pick up on the fact she was more tense than at the start of the show. Her voice shook lightly when delivering the lyrics to ‘Iris’, although it was as though she was putting more emotion than ever into the song, bringing tears to Bob’s eyes. Y/n also appeared to hold back tears, quickly transitioning the song to their next to avoid breaking down.

‘1985’ was the last in their set, everyone in MSG jumping up and down to the chorus and screaming the lyrics. Y/n smiled the entire time, finally letting a tear slip when the concert came to an end. To everyone it may have looked like the rockstar was overwhelmed with emotion at the fact she just played Madison Square Garden before a sold out crowd. But for Robert Floyd, he knew those tears were because of him.

Especially when they connected eyes again, Y/n’s lip quivering before turning away to hide her face. When she walked off with the band Bob felt his heart go with her.

“You’re hiding something,” Abby said with a soft tone when they arrived back home late that night. It was nearly 3 in the morning, the concert having ended at 11.

Bob tilted his head back, eyes closing to block off the rest of the world, “Please, let’s not do this.” He just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.

“You know, I always wondered why your knuckles would tighten around the steering wheel when their songs played on the radio, or why you look like you wanna cry anytime I sing ‘Iris’ at karaoke, why you can’t even look at me when I do,” she lists off, voice slightly rising. “Then there’s that box of letters you hide in the closet. And….and the photo album you won’t even let me look at. We’ve been together for a year, and you have not once told me you loved me.” By now Abby’s voice wavered, sniffing as she continued.

“I’ve been a fan of The 1985’s for close to a year now, but it wasn’t until tonight I actually read up on them. On Y/n…..” she saw how his body reacted, confirming her suspicion even more. “How she was living in L.A when they got discovered, but she grew up somewhere else…..She’s from Montana. The same town as you, Robert.”

“That’s just a coincidence—.”

“She went to the same high school as you!” Abby shouted, pushing off the wall she was leaning against. “You told me your town had less than four-thousand people—and only one high school. She would’ve gone there, Robert—in fact it said her mom was a teacher at the elementary school. The same one your mom taught at!”

By now Bob had enough, mouth tightening as he spoke calmly to his ‘fiancé’, “What do you want to know, Abby?”

“Who was she to you? Don’t fucking say shit like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’—I saw her look at you,” tears pricked in her blue eyes. “How she looked like she’d been punched straight through the heart. She fucking dropped the microphone—and looked like she wanted to faint! Like you were a walking ghost. And you….you looked the same.” Pausing, she thought back to his face at the concert. There was no doubt Y/n and him had locked eyes, she heard him audibly react despite the noise.

“You looked like someone with deep regret. Someone who longed for a second chance. You looked like someone in love, Robert. Never have you looked at me that way.” Abby waited for him to respond, but Bob was unable to speak, expression unreadable causing her heart to break.

“Just please,” she breathed out, “tell me the truth, Bob. What was she to you?”

Silence filled the room, causing the tension to rise. It stayed that way until Bob finally sighed, face falling as he admitted what she already knew.

“She was everything. She is everything.”

When it came time to ship out two months later Bob was not the married man he expected to be. In all honesty, he was relieved. That night the argument had ended with Bob telling Abby he couldn’t marry her—he’d be hurting her even more if he followed through with it. Never could he love her the way he did Y/n and wouldn't put her through that. Going their separate ways was for the best. Even though he’d likely never be with Y/n, no one could compare to her.

Abby was angry as one could expect but part of her knew it was for the best. What good was it getting into a loveless marriage? She almost resented the rockstar, feeling like she could never enjoy the 1985’s anymore knowing the man she thought she spent the rest of her life with was hopelessly in love with his former best friend, who was the frontwoman of her favorite band. But then Abby took some time to think, and felt her heart break for Bob. She couldn’t imagine what it was like loving someone you couldn’t have.

Ending their engagement and agreeing to be friends, Bob told stories about growing up with Y/n—even bringing out the letters and photo album for her to see. It amazed the woman, flipping through the pages to see the singer when she was a child and teenager. It was almost funny to see how polar opposites the two best friends were, Y/n with her 80s band t-shirts and ripped jeans next to a Bob in his cowboy hat and flannels. As teenagers Y/n dabbled more in the grunge makeup. One photo made Abby laugh as it showed Bob with black eyeliner and glitter on his cheeks.

Coming across the end of the album was a half of a ‘Best Friends Forever’ necklace taped to the page. Abby frowned, “What happened between the two of you?”

This was a question he never thought he’d answer, thinking he’d go the rest of his life without anyone finding out his history with Y/n.

“After she moved we stayed in contact for about two years. We’d call every Friday—send letters from time to time ....” He paused, biting his lip as the frown took over. “But I stopped responding and answering.”

“Why?”

“It hurt too much,” he admitted, hating the way his heart clenched. “I never said anything because I didn’t want to lose what we had,” he looked to the ground, “but then it just became too overwhelming and I thought if we….if we drifted apart then I eventually could move on.”

Abby is silent, glancing at the picture of him and Y/n before looking back at the necklace, “Wanna hear something, Bob? Something you probably won’t believe, but I promise you it’s more likely than you think?” He looks up from the floor, brow raised slightly.

“What?”

“I think Y/n loves you.”

“Not in the way you think, Abby,” Bob deflects with a shake of the head. “And she definitely doesn’t anymore—she hates me no doubt.”

“No, listen to me,” she closes the album, setting it aside. “When did you two stop talking?”

“Around fall of 2003,” he tells her, look of regret in his visage, “in 2004 was the last time she phoned the house.”

Abby thinks back in her research of the band, shoulders dropping slightly, “That’s when they got signed to Capitol Records. ‘Payphone’ and ‘Iris’ came out last year, but Y/n said in an interview she wrote them the night they were signed—which had people confused because they’re sad songs that were written on a night that was supposed to be happy. Don’t you see?” She waves her hand at his now confused gaze, making her huff. “She probably had called your house hoping to tell you the news! Anyone who hears those songs knows it’s about heartbreak. And not the type of heartbreak you get by a friendship disintegrating, Bob. That’s the heartbreak when someone you love with your entire soul hurts you.”

“Abby please,” Bob pleads with her, water lining his eyes. Falling silent the woman leans away, solemn in her expression.

“All I’m saying is she loved you more than you think. And judging by her reaction to you tonight, I think I’m right when I say Y/n would give anything for you to talk to her again…..”

For years Bob thought about what Abby had told him that night they broke up. It kept him up at night especially when The 1985’s came up that day either in conversation or on the radio. There were times he was tempted to write a letter, but life would get crazy with the Navy and then in 2011 he was invited to Top Gun.

Devastated couldn’t even be the right word to describe how Bob felt when it was revealed Y/n had eloped with a Hollywood heartthrob. Not a fan of social media, Bob had just returned back to his squadron after graduating from Top Gun to turn on E! News where they were covering the story.

“Wedding bells are in store for rockstar Y/n L/n of The 1985s and actor Enrique Lorenzo from The Walking Dead. The two have been spotted throughout the year looking cozy at award shows and Lorenzo attending The 1985’s concerts in L.A and Atlanta. An inside source has gotten word the two applied for a marriage license two days ago and earlier this morning had a private ceremony with close friends and family in West Hollywood. Neither has confirmed if they have in fact tied the knot, but I would keep your eyes out. In the meantime, congratulations to the happy couple and we’re looking forward to seeing Y/n’s ring.”

It seemed like all the air had left Bob, turning off the tv in a flash but still pointing the remote as he stood stunned. Then his phone buzzed with messages.

“Honey, just checking in. Call me when you get home,” was from his mom, trying to avoid the obvious elephant and would rather discuss it over the phone.

“Have you heard the news?” Abby wrote. “I’m so sorry, Bob.” He actually appreciated that she wasn’t walking on eggshells. That she was upfront with him. Though it’d been over four years since their breakup, and Abby was now married with children, the two remained friends and often checked in with each other occasionally.

“It was bound to happen some time,” he replied before turning off his phone so he couldn’t receive any more messages.

The rest of the night he was pretty much a walking shell, then as the years went on Bob closed himself off. Hardly did he date, and when he did they only lasted a few months before the girls realized he was not ready for the commitment they were wanting. Some understood, others were more aggressive when spitting out their feelings. Never did he admit why he couldn’t love them the way they wanted. The only people who knew who his heart belonged to were Abby and his family.

2015 Bob was transferred to Lemoore when the news broke that Y/n and Enrique had divorced after nearly four years of marriage, however, they had been secretly separated for almost a year before it was finalized. Cursing mentally, Bob couldn’t help but feel a slight relief—which was completely fucked up knowing Y/n was going through a difficult time and here he was silently celebrating, as though he really had a chance now to make things right.

That should’ve been his sign to call her mother and ask for Y/n’s number, with the hope she’d give it to him. But then Bob felt it was too soon. Her divorce had just been finalized, he didn’t know the exact reason despite the former couple citing irreconcilable differences. Whatever it was, Bob wasn’t sure he wanted to know but at the same time couldn’t help but be curious.

He’d get his answer almost two years later in January of 2017 when he flew home to Montana to celebrate his birthday. It was his 32nd and his mother literally begged him to come home so they could all be together now that Bob’s sister had recently had twins and were there to visit. Wanting to meet his nieces, the WSO relented and booked a flight for the weekend after confirming his leave.

Suspicion filled him with the way his family was acting when he arrived. Almost like they were excited but nervous, which only confused the officer. He was in his service khakis, pulling his cap off when they got inside and removing his windbreaker before setting it on the coat rack.

That’s when he saw the black suitcase in the corner.

“Who’s is that?” He asked with a raised brow, noticing his mother slightly tense. It wasn’t a luggage he recognized as one of theirs, and it was as though it had just been placed there.

And his sister had already unpacked in her old room. So it wasn’t hers.

Blushing, his mother tried to find the right words, “Oh-um, It’s—.”

“It’s mine.”

32 years had gone by in Bob’s life and never did he think he’d experience anything close to cardiac arrest. But hearing Y/n’s voice, so close as though she was behind him, made him think he was about to die right then and there.

Then he turned around, slowly, heart beating so fast it was about to explode from his chest, and she was there. Standing at the end of the staircase in a beautiful black leather dress with matching knee high boots, her hair slicked back into a bun and minimal makeup showcasing her gorgeous face.

She was ethereal. Absolutely breathtaking.

The last time he saw her in person was when they were 22, before that was 16. Here she was a grown woman who’d been through a hell of a life. She looked beyond gorgeous, and Bob felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

Only her gaze was not as warm as the emotions Bob was feeling. Honestly he felt like he could be six feet in the ground with how she was looking at him. Betrayal, heartbreak, anger, but underneath it there was love and hope.

“Hello, Robert.”

He didn’t even know how to react. All he could do was stand there, speechless with his mouth slightly agape. Eventually he just breathed out, “Y/n.”

Stoic, Y/n glanced at his mother, “Mrs. Floyd, could you please give us a moment.”

“Of course,” the older woman nodded, bidding her son a glance, “We’ll all be out on the porch.”

Nodding in thanks, Y/n waited until she and everyone in the house had moved outside before facing Bob again. Chills ran up his arms when she let her eyes trail over his figure, remaining emotionless.

An awkward silence passed, neither really knowing what to say. Bob was hesitant to break it, hoping she would but Y/n just continued to stare at him. Both unable to form the words.

Finally he tried to say, “y-you uhh, wow.” He swore he heard her scoff under her breath.

“Yeah, wow,” her tone broke his heart, but then again Bob couldn’t blame her. After all, he’s the reason they drifted apart. When he didn’t reply, instead glancing to the ground, she scoffed louder, “That’s all you can really say? ‘Wow’? After thirteen years, Robert, all you have to fucking say to me is ‘wow’? No, ‘I’m sorry,’ no ‘I can explain everything.’”

Anxiety rising, Bob sighed which only made her angrier. “Y/n, I-I—.”

She couldn’t stop herself, “Why?” The question haunted her for over a decade. “Why did you just throw me away like trash—a-after everything we’d been through? You owe me the reason why you broke your word to me and made me feel like shit. I have waited and waited for years, Robert, hoping you would call or send a letter but now I’ve had enough so you can’t run away from me now. So start talking.”

“Y/n, I didn’t mean for y-you to feel like that,” he tried to explain, but the words were not the best, causing her to explode.

“How else was it supposed to make me feel!?” She threw her hands out. “That’s how it came off as to me! ‘All always be here for you,’ my ass, Robert. You remember telling me that? It was only two years—two years of us doing so well with the distance—I was even planning on surprising you for fucking Christmas and then it was just gone in the blink of an eye,” snapping her fingers, Y/n emphasized her point. “No explanation, no warning. Nothing to tell me you didn’t want to be friends anymore, having your mom give me excuse after excuse why you wouldn't come to the phone.” She pauses to calm herself, her tone kept rising with each word.

Bob takes the moment to speak, “It’s…Y/n, you have to understand it was never my intention to hurt you,” when she made a sound of, ‘yeah right,’ he rushed out, “Please! I fucked up, I know I did and I’ve regretted every second of it since then—and as much as I wanted to reach out and apologize, explain to why it happened…I just felt so ashamed and then I heard you on the radio,” a sad smile comes to his lips, seeing her stiffen at the mention of her debut. “And when I heard your voice, I just thought that was it. You didn’t need me anymore and believed you would forget about me eventually.”

“Forget about you?” Her tone went soft, eyes glistening. “You were my best friend—since we were fucking five, Robert!” He flinched, shame filling his veins. “We did everything together, I shared everything with you. My music—some of which were inspired by the fucking things we did,” the confession had his eyes widened a bit, “You think I would just forget all of that? Thirteen years worth of friendship down the drain? Sorry, but I’m not like you—I wouldn’t just ditch the only person I trusted most in this world because I was starting to become something. Did your mom tell you I called?” She suddenly asked, not letting him answer before she was ranting again, “It was almost a year after you threw me to the winds. The night I fucking met with Capitol Records and got offered the opportunity of a lifetime….I wanted to share that with you. Despite the fact we hadn’t talked for almost a goddamn year, I desperately wanted to hear your voice and tell you I did it,” her voice cracked at the end, causing tears to prick in Bob’s eyes at the sight she was fighting back her own.

“That I did it,” Y/n held back the sob threatening to escape. “You were the only one who believed in me, and I couldn’t even share that with you. Because you didn’t want me in your life anymore—and you know what that’s okay. Friendships come and go, but you couldn’t even give me the fucking respect to tell me. And then you come to my show!” Now she was shouting, “Yeah I know that was you, don’t even try to deny it. It may have been four years at that time but I know damn well that was you in New York. I cannot fucking believe you would come to my show and not even tell me! And then to not reach out after was a fucking slap to my face.” Her breathing was starting to get heavy, the woman pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t even recognize you honestly. The Robert I knew would’ve never hurt me like you did. He would’ve at least shown me some respect. He wouldn't leave me to wonder what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said sternly.

“Well it doesn’t feel that way now does it?” She said just as harsh, “Why?”

“Y/n, it’s complicated,” he put his hands to his neck, looking at the ceiling as he started to lose composure.

“Then tell me why!”

“Because I fucking love you that’s why!”

The words had left Bob’s mouth before he could stop himself. Silence ignited, the WSO covering his mouth with a hand as he went pale, staring at Y/n whose own mouth was parted. The confession had hit her full blast, causing her to stumble back as though she physically felt them possess her. A shaky hand came to her own mouth, looking away from the man when her eyes closed allowing the tears to spill on her cheeks.

“I love you,” Bob whispered, mirroring her expression. “I’ve loved you since we were fifteen, Y/n. I knew I felt something when we were twelve, but I just brushed it off thinking I was confused. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about you—and what we could have. But I didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same.” Opening his eyes, they locked on hers. God even when she cried she looked beautiful. “When you left…I thought it would be easier to move on. But then we talked every week and the feelings wouldn’t go away. No matter how much I tried. You took my heart with you to L.A. and you’ve had it ever since.”

He waited for her to respond, chest on fire with how bad his heart was racing. Fingertips were going numb as Bob stared at her with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back in time and change it as much as I wish I could. Please know, Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. I won’t blame you if you walk out that door and we never see each other again. But just when you do, know that I’m truly, deeply, sorry.”

Time seemed to slow now with the two adults staring at each other. Now that it was all out in the open, Y/n seemed to be processing the whole thing. Bob couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n’s brain was screaming, as was her heart. Lips quivering, the woman sniffed.

“You love me?”

“I do,” Bob signed after a moment. He no longer could keep it in, feeling the immense relief at being able to finally say it aloud.

“For years?”

“Almost seventeen.”

“Seventeen,” she repeated with an unreadable tone. “Y-you, I thought—your mom told me you were engaged.”

“That was in college,” he explained softly. “She was at the show with me that night. Saw how we reacted to each other and realized things I tried to hide. I ended things with her—I couldn’t trap her in a marriage that would make her unhappy—make me unhappy. She understood after a while and we stayed friends.” Bob rubbed his jaw, adding, “everyone else that came along was the same. I couldn’t love them the way they wanted me to. My heart wouldn’t allow it.”

Y/n leaned her head against the wall behind her, gazing at the ceiling, “A-and you were just going to go through life alone? Never planning to settle or be happy?”

“What good would it be hurting someone by committing to them when I couldn’t offer everything they would give me in return. They could love me, but I couldn’t love them, Y/n, and that’s unfair.” He wiped away a tear that slipped from his eye, no doubt his irises were red, “I’d rather be alone than do that to someone.”

She took a sharp inhale at that, more tears falling. “You should’ve told me,” her voice cracked, making him look away. Only to freeze when she said in almost a whisper, “Because we could’ve had all this time.”

“Wh-what?” Was his mind playing tricks on him? Or did she really just say what he thought she did?

Y/n chuckled, but it was more of laughing at how sad the situation was. Shaking her head, her eyes stayed on her boots as she said, “Did you ever wonder why I rejected Tyler Davies when he asked me to homecoming junior year, insisting I wanted to go with you instead?” Tyler was the quarterback of their high school football team. A senior, who asked Y/n to the dance and became the talk of the school when she said no. Many were jealous she even got his attention, riddled with shock she would reject the star player.

“Because you felt sorry for me I didn’t ask anyone?” He asked like it was obvious, causing her to huff.

“Because I wanted you to ask me,” his heart skipped again, “And whenever Melinda Perry would flirt with you in government I would literally send her daggers because of how jealous I was. Why do you think I warned you not to go out with her when you asked for my advice? Yeah I knew she was a snake to most of her boyfriends, but I was also selfish because I didn’t want you dating someone else. God, Robby, you were so blind. Even with your glasses you still couldn’t see that I loved you.” It was though he was on cloud 9, disbelief at what he was hearing.

Y/n loved him. At least she did when they were teenagers.

The next question couldn’t even form in his mind before she was lifting her head back up, shrugging when allowing the confession to fall from her lips. “And as much as I want to hate you right, I can’t bring myself to. Because I’m still hopelessly in love with you, Robby.”

Now he was the one stumbling back. “Y-you do?”

“I do. I’ve loved you since I was sixteen.”

He didn’t recall much that happened after that. Just that his feet were carrying him over to her, cupping her face in his hands and moving their faces close together. Lips just barely brushing over, he waited for her to make the next move. Y/n wasted no time, pressing her mouth to his and the two felt the eruption of warmth and love consume their bodies. Her arms around his neck, her fingers ran through his blonde hair causing Bob to groan. The sound made her gasp, allowing Bob to slip his tongue past her lips and heat up the kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, bringing them back together.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His arms went to cradle her, pressing her against the wall. She simply nodded before kissing him back, “I forgive you, Robby.” God he missed that name. Only she could make him feel some type of way when she said it. He chuckled when she added, “Even though I should slap the fuck out of you.”

It was a miracle they made it up the stairs and into his childhood bedroom which was now a guest room. He had to remember to lock the door after setting her on the bed, praying to God his family would stay outside. There was music playing from what he could hear through the window so it made things easier when the two got lost in each other.

Clothes scattered the floor, kisses and hushed whispers shared between the two. Bob worshiped Y/n, letting his mouth kiss along every inch of her, trailing down any tattoos that coated her skin and paying extra attention in the places that brought her the most pleasure.

When he entered her they both sighed in bliss, moving as one until they reached a climax that brought them both to tears. All the time Bob whispered how much he loved her, Y/n repeating it each time. She moaned with each thrust and whenever she pleaded with him to do something Bob delivered it without hesitation. With her leg over his shoulder, chests pressed and mouths attached together the officer believed if he died right there it would be with a smile on his face. They came together, Y/n gasping his name as he eased them through their climax. When it was over Bob leaned down to capture her lips, wiping away her tears before removing himself to clean her. They basked in the afterglow, Y/n laying her head on his chest while he lightly traced the tattoos on her arm with his finger.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked, making her humm in response. “Enrique…”

The woman made a sound, lifting her head to gaze at him. “Enrique and I had been friends for some time—and we did drunkenly hook up once to get the sexual tension out of the way but that was it,” Bob controlled his reaction, though he couldn't say anything for he too had his fair share of one night stands. “The band’s contract was renewed and The Walking Dead was just starting out. The label and his producers thought it was a good idea for us to be seen together. Just to bring in some press for our upcoming album and the show. But we never felt anything more than friends for each other.”

Bob sat up a bit, causing her to lean on her elbows as she rested on her stomach. His expression was unreadable, “but you two were married.” Again Y/n let out a sigh.

“Enrique and I were friends so we shared things. He confided in me, I confided in him—Enrique was in love with someone who he couldn’t have. Ring a bell?” She raised a brow at him. “I was in the same boat. Just like how you said you couldn’t bring yourself to love anyone else, I couldn’t either. But at the time I thought you were married, Robby.” That had his eyes widened. “I called your mom after the concert that night, hoping to get to you and she told me you were engaged. So when I met Enrique and we both were going through the same thing, we thought ‘instead of being miserable alone, let’s be miserable together.’ Our publicists hated the idea, but we both believed we wouldn’t get our fairytale ending.”

Something in the way she said that last sentence had Bob think about Enrique Lorenzo. Most recently it was revealed he was in a relationship with fellow costar Simon Zahir, coming out as bisexual to the world with an instagram post of the two sharing a kiss.

“So you married him even though you didn’t love him?” Kinda like how he almost did with Abby. It made Bob frown thinking about it.

“I did love him, just not the way a wife should love their husband. And he understood because he couldn’t love me the way a husband would their wife,” she sadly smiled, “It was a mutual understanding where we would go and support each other at premiers and award shows, kiss for the cameras, all that was needed to show the media we were a happy couple. But behind closed doors we actually lived separately.”

Hesitant to ask, Bob waited a moment before saying what was on his mind the last couple years. “What made you two divorce?” The question made her give a small smile.

“Simon confessed to Enrique he loved him after they finished filming season four, and that he and his wife were divorcing. When Enrique told me… I could just see the hope in his eyes, and who was I to deny him his chance at happiness just because I didn’t want to be alone. It would have been selfish of me to. No, I told him the first thing the next morning we’d file but our publicists called and asked to wait until Simon was divorced before we went through with ours. That’s why we were ‘separated’ for a year,” she put quotes around ‘separated’. “We didn’t want to cite irreconcilable differences since it was a mutual decision, but the lawyers thought that was the best route to go.”

Bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, Bob asked the second question he wanted to know, “What made you come here?” She leaned into his touch, “you said you thought I was married. How did you even get here?” The last question was more due to the fact The 1985’s were currently on tour. It was another reason why he was so shocked to see her there when he arrived.

“We played in Helena last night. After the show I had this feeling I needed to come here, so I called my mom to get your mom’s number. That’s when she told me you were flying in today.” Her face turned to one of guilt, “I sorta feel like a bitch because tomorrow is your birthday and I came here knowing there would likely be an argument. Even though I thought you were married, I just really wanted to know the truth. It was eating me up. And with that feeling I needed to come here again after so many years, it sorta felt like a sign—if you can call it that.”

Leaning more into his hand, Y/n added, “I didn’t come with the intentions of winning you over or anything—especially under the impression you were married. I wanted answers, that was all. Although,” she kisses his wrist, “I’m not complaining with how things turned out.”

“Me either,” he agreed with a laugh. As he moved in to kiss her, a knock on the door interrupted causing the two to look like deer in headlights.

“If you two are presentable,” it was his sister, “then we’d be happy if y’all joined us for dinner sometime soon. But by all means, take your time.” She ended with a cheeky laugh before footsteps indicated she had walked away.

Bob let his head fall back into the pillow with a groan while Y/n giggled. She went to get up, but the man wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled into her neck. “I’ve waited too long for this.” Humming, he felt her hands go to his air, maneuvering them so he was on top of her.

Y/n gasped at the feeling of him becoming hard again, causing Bob to smirk as she wrapped her legs around him to offer assistance. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

In the haze of it all and as the weeks passed, the two began to live the life they dreamed of with each other. Neither realized they had forgotten protection that night….until Y/n was puking on the tour bus and counted the days since her last period.

“Look at me,” Bob held her hands. They sat in her hotel room in Sacramento, the band finishing out their tour in California before setting to work on their next album. When she called him that morning about her possibly being pregnant Bob got in his car and drove straight there. Thankfully it was a Saturday so he was off and had great timing. Pepper was kind enough to give her a spare pregnancy test she had on her, so Y/n waited until Bob arrived to take it.

Relieving herself on the stick, she kept it in the bathroom to wait for the results while she sat with him on the bed. She was crying, unsure how to feel. Part of her was excited at the idea of being pregnant and having a baby with Bob, but also feared it was too soon. They had just started dating, she was on tour until the end of the month, and they had been keeping their relationship quiet from the public so she was scared of what could happen.

For the WSO, he was going to be happy regardless of the outcome. “Look at me, Y/n. Everything is going to be okay. I am not leaving you—I swear to you, baby. If that says positive, then believe me when I say I will be the happiest man alive,” she whimpered, making him press kisses her cheek lovingly, “We’ll get through it together. You’re gonna be done with the tour in a few weeks and then we can take it from there. And if it’s negative then that’s completely okay too.”

When the results did come, the stick reading in small letters pregnant, the couple cried together with Bob pulling Y/n into his lap. “I love you—I love you,” he kissed all over her face, her cries turning into giggles. “It’s going to be okay, Y/n. I’m so happy, darlin’. So so happy. I want nothing more in this world than to have a baby with you. You’re going to be the best momma ever. I know it.”

October of 2017 brought Marcel Brandon Floyd into the world. Keeping her pregnancy a secret, no one besides the band and their families had knowledge of the birth of their son. Thankfully Bob’s identity was still hidden, both very careful to not let paparazzi catch them together. Especially with Y/n being pregnant they didn’t want to add on the stress of the media discovering their relationship. They planned to announce it on their own at some point once the baby had arrived.

It wasn’t until Marcel was roughly a month old that Y/n posted an Instagram picture with his tiny hand wrapped around her finger, ‘my world has arrived 🤍 10.20.17.’ The announcement had Y/n trending #1 on Twitter and talk show hosts calling to have her on the show. Y/n declined, she only really made television appearances with the band if they were performing, but that was only when they released new music.

Around the holidays was when Bob proposed. They were sitting by the fire, Y/n in his lap with Marcel in her arms when Bob simply said, “Marry me.”

At first she thought he was joking, but then he removed a velvet box from his pocket. Her eyes watered, “Are you serious?”

“More than I’ve ever been. You’re my person, baby. I’ve waited for this moment my whole life—and I won’t waste another second. Marry me, Y/n. Be my wife and I promise to love you even after death.”

He truly meant it when he said he didn’t want to waste another second. After she said yes, they put Marcel to bed and Bob made an appointment at the courthouse, both agreeing to get legally married and wait for a big ceremony some other time. They made love all through the night until the sun rose. In the morning the little family and the band gathered in the courthouse and tied the knot.

Y/n already knew the media was going to have stuff to say about her when the news broke. This was her second marriage, also happening in the spur of the moment like her first one. Only this time around it was with her soulmate so the rockstar couldn’t give a fuck what they had to say. She and Bob were coming up on a year, had a child, and planned to spend every second of their lives together. She loved him with every ounce of her being.

On instagram the picture posted was of their rings followed by one of them kissing where his face was hidden. “I’ve been keeping a secret from all of you. In January I reunited with my childhood best friend, who I was in love with way before The 1985’s were even thought of. Things happened in life causing us to drift apart, but we recently found our way back to each other and I plan to never let him go. He is my second half. The person I was meant to grow old with. I can’t put into words how happy I am and with the birth of our son, our little fairytale seems to be working out. Some of you may think this is all too fast but let me tell you this, we’ve waited a long time for this moment. I ask that you please respect our privacy and thank you to all who have supported me over the years. Much love, Y/n ♥️”

For almost two years the two kept their relationship under wraps from the media. Then in October of 2019, just before Marcel’s birthday Bob was called back to Top Gun. It’d been several years since he graduated from the program, surprised they even wanted him for the mission. With how timing was the WSO would have to report to Fightertown a couple days after his son turned two. Y/n had a beach house in San Diego, deciding her and Marcel would stay there while Bob was in his detachment and what made it better was Xavier and Farrah—who fell in love over the course of their years as a band— were both from San Diego, both currently there while the band took a small break. Bob would have to stay on base with candidates, but after training ended he’d come to the house to be with them.

Pepper and Thomas were back in L.A, but we’re working on beats for their upcoming album and sending the three what they had for them to add on or scrap if they felt it didn’t fit. They had a meeting with the two Zoom with Xavier and Farrah and their two young kids at Y/n’s place the day she got the call Bob was in an accident.

“Hello?” She answered the phone, moving to the side away from where Xavier was drumming. Marcel was in his little playpen, a pair of baby earmuffs over his ears to protect them from the loud noise.

“Hi….” The guy on the opposite end let out a soft chuckle. “I’m looking for uh, Y/n L/n?” His tone was that of someone who found it funny he was asking for someone he definitely thought wouldn’t be on the other end of the phone. Like he saw the name on the card and said, “there’s no fucking way this is the guy married to Y/n L/n,” but because of his job he had to call the number anyway.

“This is her. Who am I speaking to?”

The man went silent for a moment, before clearing his throat. “This is Lieutenant Royce from NAS Miramar medical group,” Y/n’s heart picked up as dread filled her, “Can you confirm you are the spouse of Lieutenant Robert Floyd.”

“Yes,” she rushed out. “I am. Is he okay? Did something happen?” Closing her eyes, she prayed she wasn’t about to receive the worst news imaginable. No, Bob had to be okay.

“There was an accident with his F-18 this afternoon, he had to eject—.”

“Excuse me one second,” she apologized before bringing the phone back slightly to yell at the drummer, “Xavier! Stop drumming for five seconds—I need to fucking hear right now!” The man winced as he mouthed, ‘sorry’ catching the ashen look on her face. Both he and Farrah set aside their instruments, watching Y/n turn away to speak again, this time more calmly. “Please repeat that for me, Lieutenant.”

When Royce heard the name of The 1985’s drummer being shouted at, the Lieutenant nearly forgot what he was calling for, “U-uh, yes. There was an emergency ejection in your husband’s F-18 this afternoon during training. He is okay minus a few bruises, but he will be staying overnight in our facility for observation.”

“Oh my gosh, okay,” she breathed in relief, bringing a hand to her mouth to calm herself. “Is there any way I can see him?”

“Do you have a dependent ID card?” She tells him yes and he says with a light cough, “Then yes you can come onto base and see him.” Royce gave the address, still finding it hard to believe he may have been talking with the frontwoman of the most popular rock band in the last 15 years. He really thought it was just someone who shared a name with her. But then again, they sounded very alike.

Thanking the officer, Y/n wrote down the address and rushed to grab her purse. “I have to go to base—something happened with Bob. Can you guys watch Marcel until I get back?”

“Of course,” Farrah told her, “go go, we’ll stay here and clean everything up.”

Practically speeding onto base, it was the first time she ever had to use her military ID, which had the guard at the front gate jaw drop. He maintained professionalism, scanning her card and nodding to the rockstar. As much as he wanted to ask for a photo the guy could tell she was in distress and it wasn’t a good idea. “Have a good day, Ms. L/n.”

“Thank you, sir. You too.” She waved apologetically, recognizing the look she often got from fans. Had the situation been different she would’ve happily chatted a little longer.

It was the same when she got to the infirmary. The receptionist, who looked to be in her mid twenties, dropped the apple in her hand while other young servicemen were doing double takes and whispering. “That’s fucking Y/n L/n.” “Are you sure?” “I’m serious! I had a huge crush on her in college. I’d recognize her anywhere.”

“Hi,” she offered a small smile, aware the guy to her left had his phone out trying to sneak a picture, likely tweeting the fact she was in a Navy hospital. “I’m looking for my husband, Lieutenant Robert Floyd. I received a call from a Lieutenant Royce saying he was here.”

Upon hearing his name, the gentlemen seated behind the girl with his back to her spun around, eyes bulging when they landed on Y/n. The chair almost fell when he stood abruptly. “T-that’s me. Yes I’m the one who called you, Ms. L/n. If you would follow me I’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you,” she walked behind him, ignoring the whispers and comments made by those around. By now TMZ probably got tipped off, she could already feel her phone buzzing—no doubt from her publicist wondering what the hell was going on. She made a mental note to call her back later to explain.

Royce knocked gently on the door before opening it, “Lieutenant—oh you have visitors I apologize,” he glanced over his shoulder to Y/n, still in disbelief on what he was about to say. Turning back to Bob, Royce gives a nod, “your wife is here.”

“She is?” Y/n heard Bob, and some murmurs of voices going, “Wife?” “When the hell did he get married?”

Pushing past Royce, thanking him briefly, Y/n entered the room only to stop short at the several pairs of eyes landing on her. Off to the side she saw a man with a buzz cut drop his bag of chips, choking on the one in his mouth, “What. the. fuck.”

The two standing in front of the bed—mouths agape—parted away allowing Y/n to see Bob sitting with his flight suit unzipped and tied around his waist. Exhaling in utter relief the woman rushes to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Robby.” She felt his arms go to her waist, pulling her closer as she hid her face in his neck. Y/n could literally cry with how happy she was to see him in one piece.

“I’m okay, darlin’.” He rubbed her back, aware his fellow aviators were staring at them with mixed expressions. They looked confused, disbelieved, shocked, and in awe.

The quiet, reserved, yet sometimes sassy WSO is married to the woman who's been ruling the radio over the last decade.

Who had seven fucking Grammy’s under her band’s name.

Pulling away, Y/n ran her hands along his shoulders, checking for any visible wounds. “What happened? Lieutenant Royce told me you had to eject?”

“There was a bird strike,” he explained, taking her hands and soothing them with his thumbs. “We lost both engines—Phoenix tried to get back control but we were going too fast and couldn’t save the jet. Had to eject at the last second—we’re okay though, I promise. Just a little shaken.”

“Thank God you’re alright,” she sniffed, hugging him again while kissing his cheek. “Leave it to you getting in an accident that makes me use my ID for the first time.”

“How was that?”

“Interesting. I was tempted to run the gate because I had no patience, but controlled myself. Getting arrested would not have been good.”

“No it wouldn’t,” he chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead.

The clearing of someone’s throat ended the moment, Y/n removing herself from Bob to face the group of aviators who were still speechless by the scene. Smiling shyly, Y/n took in each of them. “Hello, I’m Y/n.”

“Oh we know who you are,” Fanboy said with awe, groaning when Payback smacked his shoulder with a disapproving look. “Sorry that was not the best thing to say. What I-I meant was we’re all fans of your work.”

“And by that he means we were all jamming to your music on the tarmac just yesterday, not understanding why Bobby here looked so smug when Seresin said he could totally get a shot with you if he ever got the chance,” Rooster added on, resulting in the blonde pilot to glare at him before blushing when the others started to laugh.

“Well now I sure as hell won’t try—I’m not that shallow to hit on a married woman, Bradshaw. Made that mistake ages ago and it was not pretty. Anyways, sorry Bob for what I said,” he held a hand up, “but let me be the first to say what a fucking G you are. And Y/n, it’s an honor to be in your presence. Big fan.”

Y/n raised a brow, smirking to her husband to see his reaction. He sure did look smug, keeping his arm around her waist. “A fucking G, huh?”

“He’s the one who said it,” he smiles before noticing she was alone when she arrived, “Where’s Marcel?”

“With Xav and Farrah. They were at the house when I got the call—we were working on some songs.” In the corner of her eye she saw Coyote and Fanboy visibly react to the mention of her bandmates.

“Forgive me for asking,” Phoenix finally spoke from her bed that was seated right next to Bob’s. “But weren’t you two childhood best friends if I’m not mistaken? Sorry if it’s too personal, but I remember seeing your post on instagram two years ago and I thought it said something like that.”

The couple smiled, confirming her wonders. “Yeah,” Bob looked at Y/n with love in his eyes. “We grew up together. Took a hell of a long time before we could get our chance at love, but it was worth the wait.”

For almost an hour the aviators learned more about Y/n and Bob’s relationship, literally saying it should be a romance novel with what life threw at them. The hopeless romantic in Phoenix couldn’t help but awe, feeling so much happiness for her backseater and the rockstar she’d been listening to since sixteen. They truly were the ultimate love story.

When it came time for the mission with Bob and Phoenix selected as one of two foxtrot teams, Y/n held onto him the entire night prior to him shipping out. He made love to her for hours, very slow and sensual ensuring she felt every inch of him. And when they climaxed a tear spilled from her eyes, “You better come home to me.”

He kept a picture of her and Marcel in his pocket the entire time. Before the jet took off of the carrier Bob gave it a small kiss before keeping it safe in his flight suit. The second they got back after successfully completing the mission he called his wife to tell her he was coming home. She practically catapulted into his arms when she picked him up from the docks, not giving a shit that the paparazzi had followed her there. By now the whole world knew who Bob was to her.

The rest of 2019 seemed to go by in a blur. They first thought 2020 would be the best year of their lives when it was discovered Y/n was pregnant again, having conceived the night Bob had left for his mission. She was just at the end of her first trimester when the entire globe shut down. When the rumors spread of a possible pandemic with the outbreak happening across the ocean, the 1985’s all took up camp in San Diego now that Bob had become an instructor with Phoenix at Top Gun. Thomas and his fiancé, who was an actress, didn’t mind moving, neither did Pepper and her girlfriend. The group were working on their sixth studio album and had celebrated 15 years as a group.

But they were starting to get burnt out, thinking it was time to go on hiatus.

Concerned with the virus and what it could have on her pregnancy, the two were very strict on keeping up with covid restriction. For at least three months Bob was working from home, the base shutting down with only certain personnel allowed on. Marcel was still too young to be in pre-school and daycare wasn’t needed since Y/n was home most days. And when she did have business meetings to attend or studio sessions he often traveled with her. Zoom became their best friend during the lockdown, with meetings happening frequently at the beginning to figure out what they were going to do going forward.

Y/n spent weeks going through what were the best records to put on the album. If this was going to be their last for a while then she wanted it to be their best. Two songs she knew she wanted were ‘Pompeii’ and ‘Little Black Dress’, while the other 13 were going to take time to decide. ‘Pompeii’ could definitely have people relate with how this lockdown was making them feel. On the other hand, ‘Little Black Dress’ was mostly for her, inspired by the time Bob went absolutely feral when she walked into the room wearing a little black dress.

It was one of her favorite memories.

And so the months went on and before they knew it they were welcoming a baby girl in July—right smack in the middle of a pandemic. The whole ordeal was unlike anything they ever imagined. Only Bob was allowed in the room, not even their son could come visit so little Marcel didn’t even get to meet his sister until days later. He was with Y/n’s mother who traveled down from L.A and quarantined in the weeks leading to her due date. Y/n hated hospitals, looking forward to bringing their daughter Brenda Rose home. Unfortunately no one else in their family or friends could meet the baby girl until spring of 2021 when things were starting to settle out.

That was also when The 1985s made the decision to go on hiatus, planning to release their album that summer before going on a final tour in 2022.

“This just in, pop rock group ,The 1985s, have announced a hiatus following the release of their upcoming album End of An Era set to drop at the end July. Frontwoman, Y/n L/n, posted on her Twitter a photo of the group in a sweet embrace with the caption, ‘when one chapter ends, another begins. Join us in 2022 as we say goodbye to the stage—thank you to everyone who has supported us since we were kids on MySpace. We hope to see you as we close this chapter in our lives, but don’t worry, the future can always surprise you. In the meantime, as Elvis would say, ‘The 1985s have left the building.’”

“It’s a sad day for fans of Grammy award winning rock band The 1985s. Earlier it was announced they are going on an indefinite hiatus once completing their impending world tour for their sixth studio album. Formed in 2003, the 1985s skyrocketed to the Billboard charts after debuting with their single ‘1985’ in 2005, going on to dominate the late 2000s and early 2010s with features on The Twilight Saga: Eclipse soundtrack, the 25th anniversary of We Are The World to raise charity for the Haiti earthquake, and accumulating a total of seven Grammys including taking home the big three: ‘Record of The Year,’ ‘Song of The Year,’ and ‘Album of The Year’ in 2008 for their second studio album Sugar, Spice, and A Little Bit of Rock ‘N’ Roll. The announcement of the hiatus has succeeded the news of bassist Thomas Quinn tying the knot with longtime girlfriend, Oscar Winner Amelia Bandera, who recently revealed she was pregnant with the couple’s first child. Last year frontwoman Y/n L/n welcomed a daughter with her husband—the couple’s second child since they wed in a private ceremony in 2017. And word on the street is keyboardist Pepper Renolyds is looking to adopt with partner Jenna Langdon. The married pair of the band, Xavier and Farrah Hernandez have had two children following their wedding in 2010 and have hinted at possibly wanting to have a third. It is unsure when the group is likely to regroup after 2022 comes to an end, but one thing is for sure: The 1985s have embedded their name as one of the bestselling groups of the 21st century. I’d say we could be looking at a possible induction to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame in the future, and a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”

Now here they were, November of 2022 at Madison Square Garden to take the stage one last time. Would they ever come back? Probably, but it would be some time before they did.

So they were gonna go out with a bang.

“I have twenty minutes until my ass needs to be on stage, Robby,” Y/n mumbled between kisses, back pressed against the door of her dressing room. His mouth went to her neck, roaming his hands all over her body that was covered in her usual leather, “That’s plenty of time.” The response had her giggle, moaning when he attacked her sweet spot making him smirk.

“Then you better do double time…we’re on the clock.”

Her glam team was going to be pissed when she came out with messy hair, glistening of sweat, and slightly smudged makeup, but she didn’t care. Not when her husband was rocking her world as he had her bent over the couch. His chest pressed to her back and hair in his fist, whispering absolute filth into her ear—saying he was going to have her on stage full of him and only he would know. But Bob also gave words of praise and love.

It wasn’t the first time he snuck backstage to rile her up before a concert. When they started the American leg of the tour in California he was at almost every show and would bring her flowers. Sometimes the kids came along, other times they stayed with Phoenix, but each time Bob would either get her pent up by teasing her as the minutes counted down…or would full on rail her. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t get off on the thrill of almost getting caught….or the fact anyone passing the dressing room could figure out what they were making their own music.

This time around in The Garden their kids were with Phoenix and Rooster, who were all waiting to get to their spots on the floor after wishing her and the band good luck. The others were already there, ready to have the time of their lives with the sold out arena. Bob needed to hurry because the stage manager was going to be knocking on her door any second.

They finished with minutes to spare, out of breath and panting with a light layer of sweat coating Y/n. Fuck she looked sexy in her leather and messed up hair, glistening as the light hit her. A smug look took over Bob, winking at his wife who just shook her head with a smile, “I’m gonna miss that now that the tour is over.”

“Don’t worry, baby. We still got after party.”

The rockstar ushered him out when the stage manager appeared, the aviator delivering a smack to her ass as he told her good luck. She smacked his in return causing him to yelp, “Naughty boy.”

Yeah he got some looks from his fellow officers when they got to the floor, Jake whistling under his breath as he went to check his watch. “Jesus Bob, you two were at it for a while. Were you trying to go for baby number three? I hope she’s able to walk on stage.” The comment had Phoenix slap his shoulder, “Can you not? We have kids with us,” she gestured to not only Bob’s children but also Payback's ten year old son and Hondo’s seven year old daughter. Then there was Mickey’s girlfriend carrying their toddler with baby earmuffs, the same Brenda and Marcel were wearing. “My bad,” Jake said, though the smirk remained on his face when Bob sent him a wink.

When the show started it was the most amazing thing any of the squad had witnessed. Some of them had seen the band in their college days, but it was obvious they were gonna top what they did ten years ago. There was a light rumble to Madison Square Garden with how loud it was. Flashing lights and smoke covered the stage, the countdown with a video montage hitting zero before The 1985’s opened with ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go,’ sending everyone who was still sitting on their feet. Bob put Brenda on his shoulders, Rooster doing the same with Marcel who were clapping and pointing to their mother, “Mommy!”

“Now, I’m searching every lonely place,” Y/n belted out the first line of the chorus, moving down the stage’s elongated platform that split the floor. “Every corner calling out your name. Tryna find you, but I just don’t know.” Xavier hit the drums with Farrah’s riff, Y/n holding a hand to chest, “Where do broken hearts go?”

“Are you sleeping, baby, by yourself? Or are you giving it to someone else? Tryna find you, but I just don’t know,” Pepper and Thomas joined the vocals, “Where do broken hearts go? Where do broken hearts go?”

When the song came to an end, Y/n let the audience scream for a moment before introducing the band. “Madison Square Garden!! New York City!!” The crowd screamed again, smiles on every member. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, theys and thems and anyone in between…. welcome to the ‘End of An Era’ world tour—our final show as we close out an actual end of an era,” Y/n moves closer to her friends with a sad laugh, hearing the sounds of protest from some fans.

“Let’s start off by introducing ourselves…..Mr. Thomas Quinn on the bass!” Tom hits some chords against the audience’s cheers, Y/n doing a little dance off to the side. “Miss. Pepper Reynolds on keys everyone!” The former pianist lets her fingers move along the keys, grinning wide and waving when she finishes. “Show me what you can do, Ms. Farrah Cortez,” the guitar solo sends the crowd into a frenzy, which only increases when Y/n introduces Xavier. “And last but not least, Mr. Farrah Cortez,” laughter rings out before she corrects herself, “I meant Mr. Xavier Hernandez,” the drums go crazy when his last name leaves her lips. She waits till he’s finished to do a bow.

“And I’m Y/n L/n,” she has to pull her mic away to hide her laugh, cheers ringing from every corner in the sold out stadium. “And we’re The 1985s.”

The energy throughout the concert was insane. Even during intermission and 5-minute breaks the audience was having a blast. The dagger squad, plus Hondo and even Maverick were dancing and singing along—the older man getting a literal PowerPoint lesson from his former students on everything there was to know about the group.

Y/n was very entertained when Bob told her that night, saying Maverick aced his test they’d given him. “You gave your old instructor, the famous Captain Mitchell….a test on our band and music? And he got a 100%?” His little nod and smile had Y/n jump in his arms, kissing all over his face, “You’re so fucking adorable, Robby. I love you so much.”

The first part of the show was mostly dedicated to songs on their most recent album, including ‘Pompeii’ and ‘Little Black Dress’. The latter had Bob blushing mad during the set, especially when Y/n came over to where they were at, eyes on him and curing a finger to get him to come to the edge of the floor. There the stadium exploded when she practically laid on the platform to lean over and kiss him, the cameras catching the scene to display on the giant screens.

Blowing kisses to her kids, she got back up and finished the song, smirking at how the dagger squad were whistling and howling in cheers. “Sorry I couldn’t help myself,” she giggled, moving back to her bandmates to prepare for the next set.

Though the tour mainly focused on their songs from their latest work, they called back to some old hits, including ‘Let’s Get Lost,’ which was written for the third Twilight movie soundtrack. “We got any Twilight fans here tonight?” Y/n chuckled at the screams, “I got one thing to ask then….Team Edward or Jacob?”

‘Some Nights’ was one of her favorites to perform, feeling a wave of nostalgia each time she did. It was a fan favorite as it was their second single ever released. The band harmonized on the track, all of them showing off their vocals with the ‘Oh come on,’ part of the song.

Y/n was hesitant to sing ‘Iris’ and ‘Payphone,’ considering they were about her husband, but he assured her when they were planning the tour set list that he wouldn’t be offended. They were some of her greatest works, the audience should hear them.

They even covered the iconic, ‘Don’t You Forget About Me,’ from the Simple Minds—most notably from the movie The Breakfast Club. “I hope you never forget about us, New York,” Y/n said when they finished, “Cause we’ll never forget you.”

Finally they were coming down to the final ten minutes and they had yet to play the song that started it all. “As we come to the end of tonight’s show, we just wanna thank each and every one of you for the support and love you have shown us tonight and through the years. None of this would’ve happened without you all—and we cannot thank you enough for sticking by us, you all play a giant role in what we do. And we’re going to miss you the most as we close this chapter in our lives,” Y/n pauses, feeling the tears prick her eyes. Glancing at her friends, she could see they were fighting back their own. They knew it would be an emotional night, and now they were minutes away from stepping off the stage for the final time.

“We started this journey when we were only seventeen and eighteen—and it’s been a hell of a ride since. Next year marks twenty years since we became The 1985s, seventeen since we made our radio debut, back when MySpace was still a thing,” she has to laugh at that, “What better way to end this tour—end this chapter, than by traveling back in time to the year that started it all.”

The reaction in the dome had little Brenda have to cover her hands over her muffs because it was so loud, Bob holding her on his hip and asking if she was alright. “Loud,” she said in her small voice, causing him to mentally awe.

“I know, baby, it’s loud. But the show is almost over and then mommy will be done, then we go home. Can you hold on for one more song? It’s your favorite one,” Brenda’s eyes brightened at the mention of her favorite song, nodding frantically making him laugh. “Okay munchkin, I expect to hear you sing along—except don’t say the bad word in it, understood?”

“Yes, dada.”

Phoenix was jumping up and down with Marcel in her arms, head banging with the little boy along with Rooster and Javy. Everyone was in delight, rockin out to the final number. Brenda sang along with Bob, the crowd harmonizing with them.

“She’s seen all the classics,” Y/n belted the second verse, hands moving on her guitar, “She knows every line. Breakfast Club, Pretty In Pink, even St. Elmo’s Fire.”

“She rocked out to Wham, not a big Limp Bizkit fan. Thought she’d get a hand on a member of Duran Duran.”

Her and Farrah were leaning their backs against one another, “Where’s the mini-skirt made of snakeskin? And who’s the other guy that’s singin’ in Van Halen? When did reality become TV? Whatever happened to,” she hit a riff, “sitcoms,” she hit another, “game shows? Sing it!”

The entire squad, the kids, and Madison Square Garden echoed, “ON THE RADIO!”

“Was Springsteen, Madonna. Way before Nirvana there was U2 and Blondie, and music still on MTV. Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she’s uncool. ‘Cause she’s still preoccupied with 19…19…1985!”

Her mini solo before the bridge had the crowd wild. Smiling the entire time, Y/n even went to the side where her friends and family were, making them all go crazy. “She hates time, make it stop. When did Motley Crue become classic rock?”

“Classic rock,” the band repeated.

“And when did Ozzy become an actor? Please make this stop,” Y/n hit a riff, “stop,” another, “stop!” Only the cheers could be heard during the slight pause before Y/n brought her hand back on the chords.

“And bring back Springsteen, Madonna. Way before Nirvana. There was U2 and Blondie, and music still on MTV. Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she’s uncool. ‘Cause she’s still preoccupied—sing it!”

“1985!!!”

“One last time Madison Square Garden!!” Not a single person in them dome didn’t sing along, everyone shouting the final chorus at the top of their lungs.

“Since Bruce Springsteen, Madonna. Way before Nirvana. There was U2 and Blondie, and music still on MTV. Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she’s uncool. But she’s still preoccupied, with 19….19….1985!!!”

All the band members continued playing an extended outro, lights flashing all around as the crowd whistled and screamed. Y/n ran over to each side of the stage before coming to the middle, waving a hand to her band who were still going hard on the instruments before raising it and finally bowing.

On the floor, Brenda still in his arms, Bob wiped away the tears falling from his cheeks with his free hand. His friends were cheering, the entire scene overwhelming for the WSO as he stared at his true love as she took her final bow. Y/n was also crying, as were her friends when they finally closed the show shouting, “Madison Square Garden—New York City we love you! Thank you so much for being here with us and being the best crowd ever. Safe travels wherever you’re going and we hope all your dreams come true. Until we meet again….as Elvis would say, The 1985s have left the building!”

The crowd was still screaming, the five adults coming to the middle of the stage holding hands in the air before bowing. Then they all met in a tearful embrace, Y/n full on sobbing with Farrah and Pepper, overcome with emotion that it was all over. Waving to the crowd, they spotted dozens of fans in their line of vision crying, some even throwing flowers onto the stage. They all went to each side of the platform to blow kisses and wave, until finally walking off into the arms of their crew who’d been with them since 2005–where another heartfelt moment took place.

As soon as their families made it backstage, Y/n was dropping to her knees to allow Brenda and Marcel to run into her open arms. “My babies!!” Peppering kisses against their cheeks, Y/n held them tight as they said words of praise. “You were amazing, mommy!” “That was so fun!”

“Thank you, baby,” she kissed Marcel’s head, looking up to see Bob staring at her with absolute love and admiration. Gently moving him and Brenda to the side, Y/n stood up, only to squeal when Bob’s hands went to her thighs to lift her up, spinning them around.

“You were incredible!” He exclaims, stopping still but still holding her up. Their lips met in a searing kiss, “absolutely spectacular.” Her hands came up to cup his face, deepening the kiss as their children wrapped their arms around Bob’s legs. It was like they were in their own little world, oblivious to everyone celebrating around them. The band were with their kids and partners, the crew were popping off champagne.

“I love you so much, Robby,” she said against his lips, kissing him again when he said, “I love you too, baby. More than anything in this world. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

When they pulled away, Y/n was a flustered mess, mirroring that of Bob who was looking at her like she was a goddess. “Don’t give me that look, Floyd. Not until we get to the hotel.”

“Can’t help myself, darlin’,” he chuckled, adjusting her in his arms before giving her another kiss.

“Eww,” Marcel groaned, making the couple laugh into the kiss. Bob set Y/n down, but pulled her close as Brenda and Marcel squeezed in between them.

“So what’s next then?” Bob whispered in her ear. “I know you can take the girl out of rock n roll…but she’ll always be a rockstar.” Y/n laughed, pulling away to gaze deeply in his beautiful blue eyes that she fell in love with as a teenager.

“Now, we live our lives. One day at a time. Together.”

Y/n really needed to thank her mom one day. It was because of her that the woman got to live her dream. After all, she was the one still preoccupied with 1985.

……….

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21

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youcouldmakealife · 4 months

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Books of 2023

I missed a year, but I’m back with my books of the year. This year there was a pretty big dip in reading from me (75% of my reading in 2022, and only 60% compared to 2021), partly because, well, eye recovery, but also, you know. Life.

I’m just going to do a top 10 this year — unfortunately I hit a bit of a slump in how many standouts I read as well as how much I read, but I do heartily recommend everything in that top 10. They’re in no real order, except for the first, which is a cheat in the form of a series.

The Thursday Murder Club, Richard Osman

So this is a weird thing where I rated the first 3 stars, but figured it was good enough to read the second, which got 4 stars, as did the third. Finally the fourth, which was my only 5 star novel of the year, and made me weep like a baby. So if you read the first and didn’t bother with the rest — this gets so much better as it goes.

The Trees - Percival Everett

This is actually the first book I finished in 2023, and it set a tone that the rest of the year sadly did not match. I mean, other than the tone of the book, which is razor sharp, over the top satire, which this year did, in fact, live up to. I just discovered Everett in 2022 with Telephone, which I also enjoyed, and am looking forward to going through his many works.

Time Shelter - Georgi Gospodinov

Really enjoyable literary fiction that reminds me of a lot of my favourite works to come out of Eastern Europe in the 70s and 80s.

How to Survive History: How to Outrun a Tyrannosaurus, Escape Pompeii, Get Off the Titanic, and Survive the Rest of History's Deadliest Catastrophes - Cody Cassidy

This is the kind of highly specific and irrelevant barring time travel information I need (not sarcasm).

Middlemarch - George Eliot

It took me like 5 months to read this monster and I enjoyed every minute of it. Eliot is so fucking good at characterisation. Absolute masterpiece of a book. Only thing that kept it from being 5 stars was, well, see; five months.

Doppelganger: a Trip into the Mirror World - Naomi Klein.

As surreal as it is fascinating.

Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin

A reread. Still absolutely devastating. Still has some of the sharpest lines I’ve ever read.

Ultra-Processed People - Chris Van Tulleken

Should have changed my eating habits. Did not change my eating habits.

Strong Female Character - Fern Brady

Not much of a memoir gal, but this was an exception.

Gentle Writing Advice - Chuck Wendig

My favourite book of writing advice from a horror author. Genuinely a lot of shit that I needed to hear.

Speaking of advice, I read a whack ton of self-help adjacent books for various reasons this year, and these are a few standouts:

How to Keep House While Drowning, The Perfectionist’s Guide to Losing Control, Unmasking Autism: Discovering the New Faces of Neurodiversity, Unbroken: The Trauma Response is Never Wrong.

#taylor recs

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sailoryooons · 1 year

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The Iron Ring | Epilogue | pjm (m)

❀ Pairing: fae prince! Jimin x human! female reader

❀ Summary: After finding a mysterious ring while cleaning out your late grandmother’s attic, you receive the unlikeliest of visitors: a fae prince who claims you have something that belongs to him. Discovering the fairytales your grandmother told you are true is the least of your problems when you’re taken to a world dangerous and unfamiliar.

❀ Word Count: 5,831

❀ Genre: fantasy au, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Jumping around and no clear timeline, unexplained things because this is just a shortly little tie-up for scenes we didn't get in the final chapter, explicit language, sexually explicit content including hand jobs, grinding, unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, a lot of spit and making out and overall passionate sex in a bathtub, Jimin and reader being simps TM, reader being a wicked little bitch in her scene with Jin honestly we stan because the Jiminfication of reader

❀ Published: December 9, 2022

❀ A/N: Here is the promise epilogue for just a handful of scenes to put the cherry on top of the massive overhaul that was the last chapter of this series. If reading the side character stories is something you're interested in (like Yoongi and Khione or Hoseok and Taehyung etc.) please let me know here. This sex scene is brought to you by SZA's new album thank you

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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“Stop fidgeting,” you giggle, swatting at Jimin’s hands as he adjusts the collar of his button up again. He’s already pulled it away from his neck several times, complaining that the human shirt-style is far too restricting for his taste.

Jimin’s taste is open chest shirts that reveal far too much skin for lunch with your mother, but convincing him that had taken a lot of begging. And kissing. And moaning.

“Your fashion here is dreadful,” Jimin huffs, crossing his arms. You’ve put him in nice jeans, a button up shirt and let him keep his earrings and jewelry on for meeting your mother. Though he wears a glamour to seem less faerie, Jimin stands out. “My chest was made for ogling.”

People are ogling anyway. Jimin has turned heads all morning as you walked into the store to buy him an appropriate outfit for lunch, and as you walked into the French café tucked in the corner of a shopping district.

Even your waitress had given him a glass of water with trembling hands, red cheeks and a stutter. You couldn’t blame her. Even dressed as a pedestrian, the King of the High Court was a work of art to look at.

“Just admit you’re nervous,” you hiss at him. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know?”

Jimin glares at you, green eyes darkening. You can sense that he’s nervous through your mating bond, but you’ve also gotten better at reading Jimin in general.

When you returned to your world a few days after the Battle at High Tree, as they’ve come to call it, you’d discovered that two days had passed. While Jimin assures you that time is different and sometimes it might be a year that passes, your world is almost always moving slower than Faerie.

Entering your grandmother’s home that first time had sent such a wave of relief that you were alive and well that you had sat in your room with walls painted of her life story for an hour and cried. When you finally felt strong enough to call your mom, it was deep into the hours of the night.

You’d become a bit of a night owl, of course.

Meeting your mom sparks your own nerves. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw her and told her everything. She had barely survived the shock of your slowly changing ears and your tales. And you had barely survived the shock of learning that your father, though not half-fae, had someone far in his bloodline that was a part of the Summer Court once upon a time.

I always knew where my mother came from, you mother had whispered, watching you with haunted eyes. But after the loss of your father, it was easy to turn it all into dreams.

Years of frustration with her had melted in that moment. You could understand now, why she had thrown out your books of magic and fantasy. Why she had been steadfast in having Namjoon curate a normal experience for you in a normal world.

The thought of losing Jimin… well it inspires understanding. Sympathy.

You don’t expect your mother to accept your half-in-her-world-half-out approach right away. And she doesn’t. The tightening of her mouth and the strain in her voice during that conversation was evident. She doesn’t want this for you and yet, she knows it’s in your nature.

Like me, once she had said. Like your grandparents and your father.

Now that you’re intimately familiar with the fae, you can see those traits in your mother. When she enters the café, she commands the room the same way Jimin had. She is sharply beautiful, with angular features that would look strange on anyone else. But her chic style and eye for aesthetics lends itself to the powerhouse of her beauty.

The chair scrapes sharply against the brick patio as you shoot to your feet. Jimin looks up at you, frowning as you ring your hands nervous as your mother approaches. For Jimin, this is a new version of you. One that is timid and awkward.

You’d never really been timid with him, even when you were afraid.

“Hi,” you greet your mother, voice high-pitched and reedy. Her gaze is sharp as a blade as she regards Jimin, lips pursed. She ripples with tension as she hesitates at the chair across from you. “It’s nice to see you.”

Jimin stands and walks around your chair, surprising you both. He bows at the waist, not a full ninety-degree angle but deeper than the king of the High Court should to anyone – especially a mortal. He looks up at your mother, a gentle smile on his lips and eyes glittering.

“It’s an honor to meet you. Thank you for taking the time to meet me.”

She looks down her nose at him, eyes narrowing a second before she nods and pulls her chair out. “Of course.” Her tone is tight, but it softens a bit when she looks at you, lips twitching in an almost-smile. “It’s not every day your only child runs off to her grandmother’s native land and comes back with a boyfriend.”

Jimin settles next to you and sips his water. “Mate.”

Her eyes narrow at him, unperturbed. “I heard stories about you as a child. Boyfriend will do for now.”

You hold your breath as Jimin swallows his water and places the glass on the table. Though he has come a long way with his biting wit and razorblade attitude, there is a moment of tension before he bows his head. “I like you, I think.”

With a humph your mother picks up a menu. “We will see if you suffice.”

Letting out relieved laughter, you lean back as Jimin slides a hand on your thigh and gives you a squeeze. You realize everything is going to be okay.

The throne room of the High Court needs work. The dais of diamond is scuffed, the glass throne has long since been shattered and gathered dust, and the floor to ceiling windows of glass with gold inlaid art have long since been broken, covered in grime, or cracked. Though Jimin’s court – and by association your court – is slowly coming together and there are fae returning to restore their homelands, it’s slow work.

Which means the throne room simply won’t due for an audience, which dampens the dramatic flair you wanted for your upcoming meeting. Nonetheless, the study that you’ve discovered tucked in a corner overlooking a flowing stream and garden is just as well.

Today, the windows are cast open. It’s light and airy, with a fresh breeze spinning the spider silk curtains and airing out the smell of old books. There are hundreds of tomes in the shelving that line the walls, in languages and symbols you can’t begin to read.

Though small, the study is beautiful. An ornate desk of gold with curling, filigree designs stands in the middle over a blush rug. Like everything in the High City, the palace is made of floor to ceiling windows of spelled glass and diamond.

It’s like the world is spun in gold, Jimin whispered as he led you through the palace, all clear ceiling and gold chandeliers.

Behind you, the afternoon sun throws the room in a shade of rose and pomegranate. It’s warm at your back where you stand behind your desk with your arms linked behind your back, chin set. A fine set of china sits on the desk, the teapot steaming with the scent of rose and lemon.

A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. You tell them to come in, lifting your chin a bit as the double doors swing open to reveal a set of guards and your visitor for the next hour.

Seokjin looks beautiful as ever, sweeping into the room in his all black, the sigil of his court stitched in silvery finery over the heart of his tunic. His hair has gotten longer and you see twinkling stars throughout the inky strands.

Stopping just short of your desk, Seokjin links his hands behind his back. He looks healthy, golden skin glowing and dark eyes swimming with fathomless cosmos that did not exist when he was possessed not long ago. Now you see the endless night in them, the dark fire of being a Shade, the whispers of the sky.

Neither one of you speaks, regarding one another. Seokjin is a king – the stars in his hair, though blinking in and out of existence like sentient beings - is crown enough. Your guards close the door and though you cannot see beyond the broad frame of the Night Court king, you can sense his Dreadwolf in the hall.

“You look well,” you offer, voice even. Seokjin gives away nothing. “Would you like some tea?”

“No bow?”

Your smile is razor thin – a trait you’ve picked up from Jimin at court. “I could ask you the same. You’re in my home at my behest. However, if it pleases the Night Court’s pride to be addressed so formally…” You dip slightly, not quite at a forty-five-degree angle, but close enough. “Welcome to the High Court, King Seokjin.”

His lips twitch, so minute you almost don’t catch it, but you sense he almost smiles. “You’ve spent far too long with Jimin.”

“You’d have bowed to him first.”

“You are my court until you marry him.”

It’s hard not to wince. It is technically true. You’re the granddaughter of Yvaine, and a member of the Night Court. The only Shade the Night Court has, beyond the king who currently stares at you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Would you like tea?” you sigh, gesturing to the steaming pot. “It’s your favorite.”

“Trying to win me over?”

“I don’t have to,” you fold your dress against your legs and sit. You flick your eyes to the seat in front of your desk and he tentatively does the same, not quite leaning against the back of the chair. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t agree with me.”

“I thought it would be a funny little adventure.”

You pour him a cup, rose and lemon filling the room. “You can needle me all you want, but you know just as well as I do that you have to name me heir.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“No, I suppose that might be true. But with the rumblings of how close your court was to losing you, you having no heirs, and the fact that Jungkook can serve me because my bloodline is enough…” You tsk at him. “Your options aren’t great. So needle me all you want, Seokjin. But like calls to like, and in both blood and bone, the Midnight Tree recognizes me as the heir to your throne.”

“Why are you so interested in being named heir, hmm? Looking to continue Malik’s work with Jimin and impose your authority on the other courts again, starting with you claim to my throne?” He takes the tea and blows over it. You watch the water ripple, sensing magic. You roll your eyes – you’d never poison him. “Whatever will the other courts think?”

“They think that Jimin and his mate fought to dispel an evil from this land, saved the Night Court from obliteration when their king was at risk, and that the High Court would never do something as stupid as a conquest while they are weak and rebuilding.”

“So that’s it. You’re weak and need allies.”

“We have allies.” You feel the thunder in your voice. “You need allies, Seokjin. And I offer this meeting as a courtesy. Naming me heir does nothing for my court. My status does not change – I am the mate to the king of the High Court, I am a Shade of the Night Court, and they call me Cythraul’s Bane these days. What does title to heir of a court I don’t desire offer me?”

Seokjin sips the tea as his jaw works. You watch him with a flat expression, giving away nothing. The truth is – there is something in it for you to be named heir. You can rightfully claim the things that once belonged to your grandmother – heirlooms, houses, lands that you can sell for things that the High Court now needs.

But Seokjin doesn’t need to know that you’re looking for this title for nostalgia and money purposes. You and Jimin have already worked this out – Seokjin needs you more you need him. He needs the protection of an heir that wants nothing to do with his throne, the commitment to the Shade bloodline, and the security of hushing rumors that his little half-niece is stronger than he is.

Seokjin sets the cup on the desk. “You pick up the game fast.”

“I had a trial by shadow fire.” You don’t miss the opportunity to throw the world play in there, to barb him. Even as loose allies, you’re not friends. There is too much estrangement there. “You live an eternity. You have time to think about it.”

He hums. “I’ll consider it.”

It’s as close as a concession as you’ll get from him. So you smile, full of teeth when you lean back in your seat, pleased. “Tell Jungkook to come in. I’ve grown fond of him since he nearly ripped your head off at the Battle at High Tree.”

Night lily blooms in the dark green house that Jimin has given you in an empty, and otherwise unneeded room in the palace. Though it took a lot of troubleshooting – and a lot of Jimin’s help – you were finally able to suspend the room in night.

Of course, it isn’t night like the Night Court. It is artificial night, powered by a crystal that feeds off as much magic as you put inside of it to mirror the magic of the Night Court that lives inside of you. It’s a bit of clever channeling that requires a tiny amount of energy, but it makes you happy.

Especially when you see flowers from the night court with their glow in the dark throats and speckled petals, and dripping neon sap. Your heart squeezes as you grin at the lilies, straightening up from your crouch just as someone comes in.

You turn to look over your shoulder as a figure slips into the room, a single orb of fae light leading them down the dark, twisted hallways that lead beneath the castle. Namjoon grins when he sees that you’re not so in the dark as it appeared, extinguishing his light.

“Hi!” you gush, running up to him. With Namjoon, you don’t have to be the king’s consort. You’re not an heir. Or a Shade, or a bane of anything. You’re just you and Namjoon is just Namjoon, who smells like vanilla and spice when you throw your arms around him, holding him tight. “I missed you.”

Namjoon, as it turns out, is hundreds of years old. He was one of your grandfather’s best friends, and watched over him when Oberon and your grandmother left Faerie long ago. Namjoon’s ever watchful eye turned into more as he discovered the wonder of the human world.

At first, you had been angry with Namjoon. Angry for deceiving you, angry for altering your memories, angry for… so many things that you realize now, he was asked to do by a friend he had known for a lifetime, only to watch that friend die suddenly. For your grandmother, who was the last familiar face.

For your mother, who begged him to give you once chance at normal.

Though it hadn’t worked out, you were enjoying not normal. And you were happy to discover that Namjoon was no different in Faerie than he was in the human world, loving the ancient tombs of the library, tending to plants in the Citadel and studying the High Tree.

A member of the Summer Court he might be, but Namjoon is a roving Faerie at heart, who has found far too many things like e-books and newspapers and museums in the human world. He is fascinated by the moral ability to ache and hurt and make music, write and paint in such small amounts of time compared to eternity.

But he still visits. Like today, when you promised that you would show him the night garden you had been working on.

Letting you go, Namjoon holds you at arm’s length, two dimple popping out proudly as he smiles down at you. “Come on,” he says eagerly, shaking you a bit. “Show me what you’ve grown.”

Night in the High Court isn’t eternal, but it’s beautiful. Millions of stars paint the sky, thousands of collars and so close, you feel as though you could reach your hand up to touch them. You can see them now, flittering through the glass ceiling of the recently-finished throne room.

You’re not much for sitting on the throne. It feels ridiculous and a bit tedious to sit in an opulent room made for appearances. Well – you are working. You’ve been sharing audiences with Jimin all day, listening to the rapidly growing members of his court and trying to settle land disputes, claims to long-abandoned homes, problems with infrastructure, nixies gone wild.

The usual.

Though you find it anxiety-inducing, hearing all of these problems that the people Jimin’s court are plagued with regularly. Jimin sits in these all day. While you move about the High Court’s lands on his behalf and work with the new citizens and repairing parts of the palace, Jimin almost never leaves the throne.

You admire the way he will sit there for hours. He never cuts anyone off, he never dismisses a single person who wishes to speak with him, and Jimin lets none of the lords wishing to reclaim lands that aren’t theirs push him around.

Now, you watch as a centaur bows deeply before turning to leave the room, having been granted a larger pasture for his heard, who had been defending it for a long time once the cythraul began to come through the High Tree.

When the double doors to the throne room boom closed, and the guards bow deeply at Jimin’s dismissal, your mate finally melts into the chair, eyes closed, head pressed to the high back. Exhaustion weights heavy on him, despite how beautifully he’s dressed today.

A midnight blue tunic hangs artfully on his frame, the chest cut low to reveal tawny, smooth skin. He has necklaces on, little stars and moons and hourglasses that you’ve found all over the High Court. It seems that time and rotating spheres of planes and universes are a popular motif, and you’ve since learned that with his full powers of the High Court, Jimin is able to perform magic far beyond that of the Night Court.

Freezing objects in time in space – though he can’t freeze time itself yet – aging things forward and backward. Sensing portals and dimensions and becoming energy sensitive are all things that he remembered when he was much younger, but is once again trying to grow into.

Leaning over the arm of the chair, you brush your fingers through his silver locks. He’s grown out his hair substantially. It’s pushed back by a silver circlet with the seven stars of the courts, and an earring catches the moonlight as he tilts his head to lean into your touch.

Jimin almost purrs under the gentle raking of your nails against his scalp. He quivers under your touch, head lolling to the side as he lets go completely. You grin, seeing how much your tired king reacts to your touch.

It’s hard to get over.

“Come on,” you whisper. He whines when your hand drops from his hair and you stand. “Don’t out, it’s beneath you.”

He’s pout increases, bottom lip stuck out as he looks up at you with glossy, green eyes. Jimin has a talent for switching between a doe-eyed sweetling and a siren-eyed vixen at a moment’s notice, something that he increasingly weaponizes against you. Not that you mind.

“It’s not,” he assures.

“Fine, remain seated on your throne. I’ll just run myself a hot lavender and orange blossom bath while you- “

Jimin brushes past you, his steps silent and gait smooth like a dancer. You love the way he spins around to face you, a grin on his face. He moves through the world like a velvet ribbon, graceful and elegant as is common among the fae.

“Thought so,” you grumble as he offers you a hand and a smile.

Coming up with a palace staff is difficult. It isn’t like the Night Court, where there have been generations of faerie loyal to Jimin and the royal family. The old staff members of Malik’s court were few and far between after the collapse of the High City, and those who remain haven’t known Jimin for a long time.

Earning trust among the fae is not common. So the palace staff is small, mostly made up of allies that he made when he was in the Night Court, and a few High Court faeries who were recommended by Hoseok and even Seokjin.

Then there is, of course, the occasional Nightingale who appear and disappear on a schedule you don’t yet understand, but has been put in place by Yoongi and Khione to assure that you aren’t murdered in your sleep.

You don’t hear from them much, but you did come to your room one day to find a mysterious tomb on the history of the Night Court, it’s laws and practices that you used in your battle of wits with Seokjin. It did not have a note, but there was an unmistakable symbol that you could not remember the shape of the moment you looked away from it.

Khione, though maybe not a friend, is an excellent ally.

The palace, like the rest of the city, sits on a network of moving bodies of water. There are pools and caverns underneath the building that have pools of water that move slowly into the large lakes beyond the city limit, and over the waterfall that empties from the basin where the Citadel lives.

Because of the easy access to water, the palace has its own unique plumbing and water filtration system that turned on when Jimin poured his magic back into the High Tree. It’s like the entire place was built by a maker to respond to the magic of those who live inside of it.

That is, at least, what you gathered from Yoongi’s explanation of the building.

Inside of the en suite bathroom is rough-cut crystal dub, hewn into the floor of the bathroom. You have to be careful getting in and out of the steps once wet, but the rose quartz glows warmly when you enter and tap one of the gold spouts. Water spits from it immediately, rushing hot and steaming to fill the deep tub.

Jimin stands staring in the doorway, too tired to do much beyond admire the way you pop open a jar of salts to pour it under the running water. Next, you dig out dried lavender, sprinkling it over the filling tub, following by dried orange rinds.

You glance over your shoulder at Jimin, his eyes cat-like in their study of you. You beckon him over with a finger. He doesn’t hesitate, drifting toward you wordlessly before stopping right in front of you, looking down through full lashes as you begin to untie the two strings that hold together the collar of his shirt.

“What’s the point of the strings if you keep such an open collar anyway?” you muse, letting your fingertips brush over his warm skin. His breath stutters slightly and you smile. “Are they really there for modesty?”

“You’ll have to ask Rika.” You drop the strings and push the shirt backward over his shoulder. It falls down his middle and waist, before dropping to the floor. “I’m not in the artistry of making clothes.”

“Hmm. You give them ideas. I see you down in their little studio sometimes, pouring over sketches.”

Jimin’s skin is perfect. He is golden and warm, flesh smooth under your fingertips as you brush your hands down his chest and over is stomach. You poke his soft flesh and he flexes, making you giggle and slap his abdomen lightly.

“Show off,” you huff, fingering the button on his trousers. “Don’t flex your muscles for me.”

“I thought you liked them.”

“As insufferable as your personality can be, I rather like that instead.”

With a sharp movement, you pull Jimin’s trousers down. He’s in linen undershorts, like briefs but not. And he’s semi-hard just from your teasing touches and words. Jimin notices you looking at his clothed cock and grins. You go read, realizing your mistake when he grabs you by the chin and pulls your face toward his.

“Huh,” he clucks, nose brushing yours. He’s so close that his lips touch yours when he speaks, your gasp swallowing his words. “I think you like something entirely inappropriate.”

“Entirely untrue. Faeries don’t lie.”

Jimin half laughs, half growls as he kisses you.

The kiss is scorching, his mouth hungry and all-consuming as Jimin licks into your mouth. You moan in surprise against him, tilting backward with the force of his onslaught but his hands are on your waist, already hiking up the fabric of your dress as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth.

Kissing Jimin makes you dizzy. He always kisses you like his survival depends on it, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, but always starving for you and wanting more. He makes little sounds of desperation between the kisses, catching his breath in pitchy tones that drive you absolutely wild.

Jimin’s hands feel like heaven when they grip the soft flesh of your inner thigh, massaging and pulling you close to him as he peppers your jaw and throat with kisses. Each one leaves a wet trail fresh on your skin, more tongue and teeth now that you’ve ignited the want in him.

It’s hard not to let him rip the dress you have on, made of dark blue silk with cape shoulders and silver broaches at the shoulders. When you convinced him to gently take it off, his movements grow softer, more reverent than greedy.

“In,” you laugh between the wet smack of your mouths. “You need to relax.”

“I’m wide fucking awake now.”

“Be wide awake in the bath. Let me take care of you.”

It wins him over. Jimin doesn’t take his eyes off you as he bends down and pulls his briefs off. From your peripheral, you can see his cock spring against his stomach, dark tip swollen and begging for attention with pearls of precum.

You’re torn between wanting to drop your eyes to his cock as he stands and watches you peel your slip off, nipples hardening in the cool air under his heated gaze, but you keep your eyes on his. You could lose yourself in those deep, green pools.

“What?” Jimin asks, hint of a laugh in his voice. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“You have moon eyes.”

You flush, feeling warm beyond the heat of lust. “I just love you.”

Jimin gets a look on his face for a moment, one you don’t understand. For a split second you feel insecure about the admission, standing naked in front of him and telling him that. But the next, the anxiety is gone as he scoops you from the floor, making you squeal as he steps into the warm water and sits down in it carefully.

Water laps over the side, the smell of lavender and orange filling your senses as you breath in. Jimin flicks his finger toward the faucet and the water stops – a trick you have yet to manage – and leans back against the rose wall of the tub, pulling you with him.

Your knees scrape lightly against the rough bottom but you don’t care, coming alive under Jimin’s touch as he settles you over his waist. You can feel his heavy cock brushing your stomach as you straddle him, shotting a thrill through you.

For now, he seems intent on swallowing you whole again, bringing wet hands to tangle in your hair and yank your mouth flush against his.

The mixture of warm water, Jimin’s touch and the gentle brush of his tongue makes your brain fuzzy. You float as you kiss him, your fingers knotting in the hair at the back of his neck, holding him close.

Slowly, you lower yourself a little more, grinding on his cock. You both whine in between spit-slicked kisses, a shudder going through you as you seek friction on his velvety shaft. You’re dripping for him, making the glide even easier as you roll your lips lazily, smiling against his mouth when he lets out a loud curse.

Jimin’s hands go to your waist, submerging under the water. He doesn’t take control, but his grip is hard, dimpling your skin as he grips onto you, letting you tease both of you. It feels like you’re tingling all over, heat rushing through your veins. His cock head nudges your clit and you let out a wanton sound, letting your forehead fall against his shoulder, slick with water and sweat from the heat of the water.

“Fuck,” Jimin rasps, lips pressed to your ear. His tongues snakes out, licking your lobe playfully. “Fuck please don’t tease me.”

“Oh, am I teasing you?”

“Enaid.”

The name shivers through you, a ripple of love and a million other feelings. You reach a hand down between you, firmly grabbing him in your hand, giving his cock a gentle squeeze as you lightly stroke him.

When Jimin is at your mercy, he sounds so beautiful. He leans is head back, face tilted toward the ceiling, mouth open to let sighs escape through pillowy lips. You watch him, the way his neck has light pink splotches as he grows flushed, thighs twitching underneath you as you pump him.

A grin spreads over your face. Seeing him like this is your favorite. Hair presses against his temples and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to lose himself entirely to your hand.

Thankfully, you don’t make him wait longer.

The crown of his cock catches your aching hole and you hiss between your teeth, ring of muscles clenching as you slowly sink down on him. It feels like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thickness stretching you to the max until you’re seated and he’s fully sheathed in your fluttering walls.

It takes quick breaths to adjust, your panting against his neck earning a hum from him as his fingers dig painfully into your hips. “Fuck,” he whispers. “So fucking tight.”

“Feels fucking full.”

“Yeah?” he mouths messily at the side of your jaw, voice a low whisper as he says, “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby. Make me feel good.”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the request. Leaning away from him, you put your hands on his shoulders for balance, slowly rolling your hips into a languid rhythm. You can barely breathe at the feel of him inside of you, so fucking deep that you can think of nothing but Jimin.

There’s no rush. Jimin lets you find a pace you like, picking up speed when you feel comfortable enough. It feels divine, the way your walls hug his length, the way his tip hits deep inside of you. You laugh a bit, head dropping back as you sink down on him again.

“Hmmm?”

You moan his name as you take a moment to gather enough thoughts to answer his question, most coherency scattered to the wind. “Feels like you’re in my stomach,” it comes out whiny and pitchy. “It feels really fucking good.”

“Keep going, baby. You look so fucking beautiful like this.”

Jimin leans forward, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking generously. You give a high-pitched squeal, the stimulation adding as you grind yourself on him, clit rubbing against his pelvis. You’re dizzy and overheated, Jimin focused on flicking his tongue devilishly around your pert bud, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Fucking Jimin always feels different. Even at this lazy pace, you feel like you’re going to fucking lose your mind. An orgasm gathers deep in your stomach, a swollen raincloud looming in the distance. You move a little harder on him now, water splashing over the side of the tub as you increase the size of your movements.

“Fingers,” you beg him as he lavishes your tits. He pulls his mouth away with a lewd pop, looking up at you with swollen lips and glassy eyes. “Please.”

He understands. Jimin’s mouth meets yours, a messy exchange of moans and spit. It’s sloppy but it’s good, especially as his hand slides down your abdomen, fingers finding your clit. You gasp into his mouth as he applies gentle pressure, slowly circling your bundle of nerves until you’re shaking on top of him, barely able to keep it together.

Jimin senses your coming apart, increasing his attention on your clit as he begins nipping the column of your throat, sharp teeth pinching your skin, rough tongue laving over it to sooth the sting.

“Shit,” you gasp, shaking above him. “Gonna – fuck.”

“Come on,” Jimin urgers. He plants his feet on the bottom of the tub, helping you as he thrusts gently up into you. “Come all over me.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you feel your orgasm open up on you. You clench hard, muscles clenching and a scream working its way out of you. You shudder in Jimin’s arms as he fucks you gently, letting you ride your orgasm, shaking and crying in his lap.

It sends him over the edge, Jimin curses and crashing his mouth with yours, sucking your tongue into his mouth greedily. You meet him with the same hunger, so fucking overwhelmed with the heat of his desire for you, for the way he makes you feel, for the way he whimpers your name between teeth and tongue.

As you come down, you catch your breath in his arms. He leans his head back, letting you lay against his neck, just trying to level yourself again. It always takes a bit, trying to come back down from the post-orgasm bliss. Jimin responds in kind, eyes closed, hand drifting up and down your spine.

“I love you,” he murmurs, eyes still close. Your eyes flutter open, looking up at him. “And I like when you look at me like that. So keep doing it.”

You laugh and close your eyes, just happy where you are. “Okay.”

Another day closes with you in Jimin’s arm, and your forever grateful for that one ring in your grandmother’s attic.

Previous Chapter

#jimin smut #park jimin smut #jimin bts smut #bts smut #jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfic #faerie jimin #minors dni #minors do not interact #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you

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yurimother · 1 year

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Final Volume of 'Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon' Released

On March 21, Seven Seas Entertainment released the final volume of Shio Usui's shakaijin Yuri series Doughnuts Under a Cresent Moon (Kaketa Tsuki to Donuts) in English.

The manga follows salary worker Uno Hinako, who, despite her best attempts at normalcy, continuously fails to find love and satisfy the wishes of her overbearing mother. Self-doubt begins to overcome her when she comes across her coworker, Asashi Sato, sitting on a bench. The two women bond and form a friendship that soon evolves into something far more intimate.

The publisher describes the final volume:

Asahi has never been big on romantic love—her top priority has always been family. But now that Hinako is in her life, her feelings about romance seem to be changing. Asahi still doesn’t know exactly what that means, but one thing is for sure: her feelings for Hinako are growing more intense by the day. Are Asahi and Hinako destined for more than friendship? Find out in the final volume of Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon!

Doughnuts Under a Cresent Moon was serialized in Comic Yuri Hime from March 2019 until its conclusion in May 2022. It is notable for its focus on adult characters, the inclusion of asexuality, and its themes of societal and familial expectations. The series is praised by critics, with the first volume receiving a 9/10 score from YuriMother. Ichijinsha publishes the manga in Japanese.

Shio Usui is a Japanese mangaka known for their series Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon. Usui's second Comic Yuri Hime series, I Married My Female Friend (Onna Tomodachi to Kekkon Shitemita), has been serialized in the magazine since 2020 and is licensed by Seven Seas Entertainment for English release in December 2023. Usui has also contributed to the Doujin Onna and Chocolat Yuri anthologies.

You can check out the fourth and final volume of Doughnuts Under a Cresent Moon today in English digitally and in paperback: https://amzn.to/3GeLSOz

Reading official releases helps support creators and publishers. YuriMother makes a small affiliate commission from sales to help fund future coverage.

#yuri #manga #news #yuri manga #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#wlw #lesbian #lesbians #gay #gl #girls' love #gl manga

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dilebe06 · 1 year

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My Top Female Characters 2022

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f10werfae · 2 years

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Heartful not a Handful

Pairing: Husband!Dad!Chris x Actress!Mom!Reader

Warnings: mention of a heart defect‼️Fluff though don’t worry‼️

Summary: Chris and Y/n prove how strong their love for each other is, how they can overcome any and everything

-Requests are open! ♥️Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist🌟:

Full Masterlist✨:

Taglist Form💫:

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Y/n's P.O.V)

May 2022 Chris and I welcomed our first baby boy, Noel, a cute brunette blue-eyed boy with a personality as big as this Earth, as Chris described it. However, unfortunate news came when the doctor came in and told us about our baby boy’s heart defect. It’s called VSD, basically having a hole in your heart.

My birthing experience alone was terrifying enough, with myself also having a weak heart, it was a major risk even attempting to have a normal birth; but I did it.

Heck I have never had Chris kiss and hug me so hard out of relief, that feeling of seeing him but as parents now, made it all the more better. Now that we’re home and finally settled in a few months later, Chris and I are slowly adjusting to the new life in our hands.

“ya doin alright mama?” I heard a gravelly voice from behind, shocking me a little as I knew it was only turning 2AM. “Jeez baby, what are you doin' up? Aren’t you tired from all your interviews today?” I questioned bouncing the breastfeeding boy in my arms slightly.

“Nah i’m never too tired for my babies, especially when they need me most”

Ever since I had given birth, Chris had opted to stay home as much as possible in order to help us about. Caring for both me and baby Noel was the top of his priority, I could have never asked for a better partner in life. I had chosen to take a break from acting for now, my contract with Marvel had just ended anyway after a major successful finale movie for my character.

“Lil man here is jus hungry, just wanted some of mommy’s milk” I cooed watching the milk drunk baby continue to suckle on my breast,

“He’s absolutely adorable” Chris said coming up behind me, his arms going around my waist to help hold onto him. His fingers slowly combing over his growing head of hair, Noel's tiny hand reaching up for his father’s touch, something he had learned to recognise.

“Just give him your finger Chris n' stop teasin the lil guy” I laughed watching Chris let Noel grab onto his pinky,

“He nearly done nursin'?”

Chris whispered into my ear, a kiss going to my exposed shoulder. “Mhm just wanna finish this off so I don’t risk a sore boob in the morning”

“You ever still worry bout his heart?”

“Sometimes, but I’m not gonna let it affect us, he’s still our healthy baby boy” I cooed, watching him let go of my nipple and yawn, passing him over to Chris for a burp, I re-strapped my maternity bra. “Come on buddy, give daddy a nice burp so we can all got to sleep”

Chris softly padded around the room, patting his back softly; his eyes watched me as I started to get Noel's swaddle ready for him. “Did he let out somethin yet?” I asked walking towards him,

“Yup he let out the tiniest, cutest burp, gets it from his momma” He cooed handing him over as we swaddled him together before placing him into his bassinet, both of us looking over him for a few minutes.

“He’ll be okay won’t be Chrissy?”

“Of course he will bub, especially with us to look after him, we have the most amazing doctors too. He’ll be amazing”

“Come on lovie, lets get you to bed, I know you’re tired” He whispered pulling me out of the room, turning on Noel’s buzz lightyear nightlight. Pulling the covers back for me he helped me into bed, unclipping my bra for me and throwing it to our wash basket by our bathroom.

“You’re such a good mom you know that?”

“Couldn’t do it without Noel having such a good dad, I love you Chris” I said moving closer to him, both of us laying on our sides just looking at each other. “I love you so much more, thank you for giving me Noel. Thank you for giving me your heart and helping us to create another”

“What’s up with those look in your eyes?” I asked seeing him change the look in his eyes

(Chris' P.O.V)

“Ever since you became a mom, you’ve jus become a whole different type of beautiful. I can’t put into words how much sexier you are, how much more I’ve fallen in love with you. I jus can’t believe you’re all mine to love and to hold”

I said looking up at the ceiling trying to convey how I was feeling, to turn my head to hear her cute little snores. Her lashes resting on her cheeks, her hands holding onto mine softly.

“Yeah I love you” I whispered again kissing her forehead softly just watching her soft breaths leave her body.

——-//

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @seren-a-ity @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans oneshot

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animebw · 4 months

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Short Reflection: Fall 2023 Anime

Is it fair to call 2023 a disappointing year for anime? Maybe it's just that 2021 and 2022 were both so above and beyond that coming back down to normalcy from that peak feels like a letdown. But man, between a mostly uninspiring winter lineup and summer being possibly the single worst anime season since seasonal watching started being a thing, there's been plenty to complain about. Thankfully, there's been plenty to appreciate as well, and while this fall season hasn't been truly transcendent, it's at least left us with a slew of worthwhile anime to close the year out. So let's sift through the rubble and rank all the shows I finished to see which ones ended as true must-watches, which are still worth a look, and which you can skip without missing anything.

Firefighter Daigo (1st Half): 4/10

So, remember Space Brothers? Remember how wonderfully that show balanced naturalistic character building with the excitement and beauty of exploring a high-stakes environment like space? Have you been looking for another show to hit that same sweet spot of grounded maturity and tangible whimsy that makes your childhood dream job feel more achievable than ever? Well... guess you better keep looking, because Firefighter Daigo is not that. There's some beautifully nail-biting tension to the rescue sequences themselves, expertly stacking one thing after another going wrong as our protagonists are forced to think on their feet to save lives under the most pressure imaginable. But the characters are utterly bland, the production is boring on a near-inconceivable level (man, remember when this guy directed a single good-looking episode of To Your Eternity and completely failed to live up to that potential ever again?), it wastes over three minutes each episode on recap footage, and it take such a bizarre, condescending attitude toward its one female character that the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. It's an overly cheesy puppet show playing at being a real story, and I will not be sticking around to see if its second cours improves in any way.

Stardust Telepath: 4.5/10

Man, I'm frustrated I didn't like this one more. I always appreciate Cute Girls anime that put this much polish and energy into their adaptation, and the concept of socially awkward Umika Konohoshi wishing she could escape this planet to make friends among the stars, only to find her place on earth on her journey to reach there, has all the makings of a coming-of-age masterpiece. Sadly, it's done in by the simplest of failures: melodrama overdose. All the attempts at heartstring-pulling are so overbearing and browbeating that every moment that tries to drag tears from your eyes just leaves you exasperated instead. It completely lacks confidence in its ability to touch your emotions on the quality of its writing alone, so it smothers you in sappy speeches and ear-bleeding Feel Sad Music until you feel like you're choking on the stuff. Not even the top-shelf yuribaiting between the two leads can wipe the frustration away, and I'm about the easiest mark for that kind of stuff as you can imagine. Someone get this forehead-touch almost-kiss telepathy into a better show immediately!

I'm in Love with the Villainess: 4.5/10

I honestly feel back about being so down on I'm in Love With the Villainess. Lord knows I'm always complaining we need more isekai with an actual point to make, and an unapologetically queer take on the shoujo villainess trope that actually has something to say about the lesbian experience amidst the romantic goofery certainly fits that bill. Except, well... I already watched this show when it was called MagiRevo. And when it was called Mage and Demon Queen. And in a world where those two stories basically perfected the "lesbian disaster courts a closed-off tsundere" isekai-adjacent fantasy yarn, there's nothing this show can offer that hasn't already been done so much better. Well, okay, the conversation in episode 3 exploring the pushy protagonist's complex self-loathing relationship with her own queerness was certainly unique, but you end up spending the rest of the show waiting in vain for it to do something that interesting ever again, only to be met with overly tropey writing, cliches, and unexpected swerves into problematic WTF territory instead. There are good ideas here buried here, but it needed a better studio to refine it to the point it needed to be, and it got stuck with Platinum Vision instead. What a shame.

Uma Musume Season 3: 4.5/10

At this point I have to wonder if even Uma Musume is getting tired of its own shtick. It's been three seasons and an OVA of the most melodramatic sports anime histrionics imaginable, and all that shouting and wailing has to get exhausting after a while. And while season 3 is still every bit as overblown and overbearing as the franchise has always been, it also feels like it's poking fun at itself for taking this nonsense so damn seriously. Two characters have a sappy emotional heart-to-heart while furiously paddling a paddleboat. Former protagonist and resident crybaby Special Week's tearful speeches are basically ignored by everyone else in the cast as they keep talking over her and tuning her out. The running gag of the Overly Serious Race Commenters get upstaged by a pair of even older, more seasoned Overly Serious Race Commenters. Hell, even the fact we only get a single idol performance at the very end seems to hint at just how weary this story's become of its own conceit. Uma Musume has always been an overthought, overdesigned mess of a show, so bloated on anime nonsense and ill-matched tropes that it rarely manages to capture anything real amidst the corporate plasticness of it all. But I'm not gonna lie, there's something equally hilarious and depressing about seeing it finally start to admit its own pointlessness.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions: 5/10

How good does a show have to be at character banter to make up for a failure of writing in pretty much every other respect? That's the question Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions seems willed into existence to answer. As a snappy buddy-cop comedy between an eccentric genius detective and his beleaguered straight-man sidekick, it's every bit the equal of 2011's Sherlock. As an actual mystery thriller... it is also, sadly, every bit the equal of 2011's Sherlock. I could watch the titular Ron fail upwards through his case-solving conundrums dragging the hapless rookie detective Toto with him all day. Their chemistry is infectious. It's just a shame the actual detective work is so hacky and contrived, cheap solutions to mostly dull mysteries that never give you that "Aha!" moment of seeing the puzzle pieces come together. And the overarching plot involving prestigious detective academies, shadowy criminal syndicates, and bizarre involuntary hypnosis powers feels like it purposefully ignores every opportunity to explore any ideas deeper than basic shonen moralizing. I might still pop back in for season 2 to enjoy more wacky hijinks between the leads, but if you're looking for something to scratch your mystery itch, give this one a pass.

Arknights: Perish in Frost: 5/10

Now that's more like it! Sort of. Almost. Okay, look, for the first half and change of its run, the second season of Arknights manages to be every bit the improvement on the first season I was hoping for. It streamlines the plot to keep a constant, propulsive forward momentum, pushing its characters forward and keeping the narrative lens focused so it can do justice to all its major players. And it pushes all those disparate factions on a collision course with each other that leads to constant, meaningful consequences and character building, aided by a production that hits its high water marks far more consistently than season 1. It feels like Arknights has shaken off the bloat and become the best possible version of itself, a dark action season with some genuine muscle behind it... at least until we enter the final stretch and the pacing goes absolutely out of control, speeding into a brick wall so fast and recklessly that you're barely able to understand what the fuck just happened by the time it's over. It's shockingly rushed, to the point you feel like you're watching someone recite the Wiki at you while skipping over all the connective tissue that would make these plot points make sense. It's a frustrating end to a season that came so close to being good, and I can only hope any future installments never make that mistake again.

Undead Unluck (1st Half): 5/10

Undead Unluck is host to one of the single most bonkers sci-fi settings I've ever seen, anime or otherwise. From what starts feeling like just our world with some supernatural freaks and weirdos causing havoc, it gradually reveals itself to be something more akin to a nightmarish cosmic RPG in the hands of a mad god, where none of the rules of our world can be taken for granted and reality is only ever a hair's breadth away from turning on its head. It's a deliriously creative premise to build a shonen battle manga out of, and I can't wait to see what other insanity the writers can milk out of this setup. Which is good, because otherwise, hooooooooo boy this one does not get off on a good foot. What fucking genius decided the main duo's dynamic should be built around the guy molesting the girl to make her powers activate? In what universe was building a love story out of that sexual harassment a good idea? I'm sorry, but when you've mistaken a swaggering half-naked dude-bro casually trying to outright assault his partner as cute hot-and-cold couple banter, you have officially lost the plot. Can somebody break into Shonen Jump studios and teach this company how to write a proper romance one of these days? Deku and Uraraka can't carry the whole genre on their back, guys!

Migi and Dali: 5.5/10

Is Migi and Dali a good show? I honestly don't think I could tell you. What it is, is utterly bizarre in everything in does, yet somehow kind of makes it all work? It's a Diamond-is-Unbrekable-esque off-kilter small town murder mystery, with a pair of identical twins pretending to be one kid to fool their new adoptive parents as they search for the person responsible for killing their mother years ago. The whole thing plays like a pitch-black parody of stereotypical suburban life, finding the cracks in the facade of normalcy and ripping them open until your only options are to laugh wildly or cringe wildly at the resulting desecration. And you will do plenty of both all throughout as it ping-pongs from accidental twincest to toddler play to to not-so-garden-variety abuse to Excessive English and basically everything in between. If there's an aspect of your stereotypical boring, domestic family experience that Migi and Dali can twist into a grotesque mockery of itself, it'll do just that and then some. The unfortunate side effect, though, is that it can be hard to tell where the line lies between intentional commentary and just being gross and uncomfortable for its own sake. And when that threatens to veer into some really misogynistic territory in the final act, it becomes even harder to stomach. Still, I can safely say I've never seen anything quite like this show, and considering the manga's author tragically passed away recently, you can't help but respect the people making it for honoring her memory this way.

Shy: 5.5/10

Shy is one of the rare manga I've read before the anime came out, inspired by a friend who came across it at random and it became their favorite manga of all time after just eleven chapters. I wasn't quite as swept away, and I don't think it's maintained the level of quality its first couple arcs had, but man, there's something special about this one. Which is why I am personally begging you not to watch the anime and go straight to the manga, because this adaptation really doesn't do justice to how electrifying and soul-enriching the manga can be. Masaomi Ando's a good director, but his penchant for paneling and stylistic insert shots, an aesthetic which works wonders on heavily atmospheric mood pieces like Toiled-Bound Hanako-kun and Scum's Wish, is completely at odds with the needs of a straightforward superhero battle series. The manga's artwork has this wonderfully sketchy, explosive quality that makes every action panel feel like a rush of cascading moments; here, every action scene quickly descends into a mess of moving jpegs and awkwardly placed insert frames that cripples its ability to wow you. There's enough of the manga's triumphant spirit preserved that it still shakes out decently- the orphanage arc that closes out the first season is wonderful enough to survive any imperfections from page to screen- but if the story of Teru's struggles and self-actualization touched you at all, you owe it to yourself to check out the source material to experience this story in its best form.

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really Really Really Really Really Love You: 6/10

Listen, you know me. You know how much I despise the harem genre. There's barely a single example of the form I consider anything above mediocre slop. So how did a show with this premise manage to get into my good graces? By understanding one simple fact that so few harem anime seem to realize: if you want something this inherently stupid to work? Embrace the fucking stupidity. Throw caution and common sense and good taste to the wind and just go absolutely bugnuts. Why settle for a scant five or six barely interchangeable waifu bait when you can have one hundred distinct and memorable personalities? Why waste time on cheap melodrama that nobody cares about when there are fourth walls to break and scenarios to push far beyond their logical extremes? 100 Girlfriends knows that the only proper form for this genre is sheer anarchy, going so far over-the-top with its jokes and setups that it's impossible not to get swept up in the sheer audacity of it all. And somehow, by imbuing this madcap nonsense with just a drop of sincerity, it actually makes you care about Best Boy Aijou Rentarou and his ever-growing posse of romantic partners as a strangely healthy polyamorous support system for each other. It's far from flawless and good lord is it problematic from top to bottom, but if you can vibe to its particular brand of earnestly empathetic chaos, it's an experience like none other.

Overtake: 6.5/10

Overtake is the most frustrating kind of anime: a really good show that's constantly threatening- but never fully succeeds- at being great. It has all the pieces you could want! A masterful production from veteran directer Ei Aoki that brings the world of Formula 4 racing to life with tactile, lived-in lushness. Characters who breathe far beyond the confines of the screen, rich with inner life and complex relationships where you come to love the rivals just as much as the scrappy underdog protagonists. A story that tackles genuinely moving and mature ideas as it explores what it means to give your all to something, even when the risks may be too horrifying to reckon with. It's as perfectly positioned for greatness as you could ask from a sports anime... and yet it never quite takes off the way you want it to. It's just missing that little extra something to push it over the edge, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what that might be. It's still absolutely worth a look, but as much as I liked it, I'm gonna be stewing over why I didn't love it for a while.

The Ancient Magus Bride Season 2 Part 2: 6.5/10

Alright, that's more what I was hoping for. After a frustratingly slow and plodding first half, the back half The Ancient Magus Bride's second season finally starts paying off all that torturous setup and reminding us that when it wants to, nothing goes harder than Chise's tale of trauma, abuse and recovery, especially now that she's the guiding light for another girl crawling out of pit much like the one she was once trapped in. It's genuinely powerful watching her try to help Philomena out from under a painfully familiar burden, struggling save someone like her while she's still struggling with the scars her own darkness has left on her. And whenever it's focused on that, it's as good as The Ancient Magus Bride has ever been. It's just a shame that whenever all that potent character drama gives way to fae-on-fae magical showdowns, it's some of the ugliest, clunkiest, most poorly staged action in all of fall's lineup. It utterly fails to capture the sense of eldritch awe and wonder this series' magic invokes, leaving it feeling like a shell of itself even when everything else is operating at full capacity. Hopefully, future seasons will take the time they need to bring that aspect up to par, because a series this steeped in the haunting grandeur of its aesthetic cannot afford to cut corners on that aesthetic.

Spy x Family Season 2: 7.5/10

Do my eyes deceive me? A Yor-centric arc? This show finally gives one of its nominal protagonists a turn in the spotlight after ages of underuse with a big, lengthy, consequential story that lets her shine like never before? It's like Christmas came early. I've been up and down about Spy x Family over the course of its run, but the cruise ship arc that dominates this season is everything great about this show operating at the top of its potential, and god damn is it marvelous to watch unfold. If only it was this good on a consistent basis, it would be an easy shoe-in for one of the greatest anime of the decade. But you know what? As long as it keeps delivering highlights like this, I've got nothing to complain about. At this point, Spy x Family has comfortably settled into being a reliably entertaining action-heavy family sitcom with lovable characters and occasional moments of greatness, and if that's all it ultimately amounts to, well, there are far worse things to be. Just please, for the love of god, keep Yuri off screen as much as possible.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off: 8/10

So cards on the table: the live action Scott Pilgrim vs the World movie is one of my favorite films of all time. It's such a perfect explosion of geeky awesomeness from one of our greatest living directors, managing to push the medium of live action closer to anime than it ever was before or has been since. So the prospect of seeing the original comic actually made into an anime was very exciting to me. How cool would it be to finally see the source material that inspired this movie brought to life, never mind with Science Goddamn Saru pushing the animation into overdrive? But much to my shock- and eventual delight- Scott Pilgrim Takes Off had much more exciting things in mind than simply slapping a decades-old comic series on screen. Instead, it's something closer to an Evangelion-style Rebuild, taking a sharp left and remixing the story and characters with the perspective of a more mature creator, reckoning with his successes and failures alike as he re-assesses the story he was trying to tell and what parts of it still hold value today. It's Scott Pilgrim as told by someone who's outgrown the transient young adulthood central to the narrative, taking stock of his past from an older, wiser perspective and making amends where he fell short before. And as much as I might have liked a straightforward adaptation, what I got instead was so exciting and fresh that I can't complain. If only every anime was this willing to get creative with its source material.

The Apothecary Diaries (1st Half): 8.5/10

Say a prayer and set off some fireworks, folks: the shoujosei renaissance is here! After a years-long drought, the anime industry is finally remembering that stories targeted at women and girls are also worthy of high-profile prestige adaptations instead of settling for barely animated table scraps. And of all the breakout hits we've had this past year and change, none have slapped quite as hard as The Apothecary Diaries, a historical Chinese mystery drama that marries fascinating courtly intrigue with a bitterly honesty exploration of how the lowest rungs of society- women and poor people especially- are systemically crushed by the structures that govern their world. As hilarious as this show can be, it's also unnervingly frank about the darkness the Emperor's courtesans and their servants must reckon with as pawns in a patriarchal society. And it drives that message home with a truly wonderful protagonist in Maomao, a girl who just wants to keep her head down and get through life without drawing unwanted attention from the forces that could easily squash her like a bug, but has too strong a moral compass to look the other way when she sees the people around her suffering from those same injustices. It's the story of a powerless person using all the tools at her disposal to keep the world's cruelty at bay, and watching her struggle to win what small victories she's capable of against such an overwhelming power structure makes for some of the most gripping television I've watched in quite a long time. And if the second cours is even half as good as good, it will still earn its place among the years' best.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (1st Cours): 9/10

The big fantasy adventure is over. The demon king is dead, the world is at peace, and the heroes who defeated him slowly grow old and die in the new age they ushered in. All, that is, except Frieren, a near-immortal elf with such a long lifespan that a human's life is a mere drop in the ocean for her. But with the passing of her former party's leader, she realizes just how much the short time she spent on that adventure have affected her. Ten years- a mere millisecond in the life of an elf- has changed the way she sees the world more profoundly than she ever could have dreamed. So she sets out on a journey to retrace the steps of that adventure, to reconnect with her memories of the old friends she's only now realizing she wished she got to know better before it was too late. Along the way she picks up a couple of those friends' young disciples to join her party, walking reminders of the past she left behind and the future that awaits her. And through their travels, she slowly begins to understand humanity and her place within it... and all the experiences she will carry with her long after they've faded into mere memory.

I'll admit, there are times I like being an anime hipster. There's something inherently indulgent, if not exactly healthy, of feeling superior to a mass-market piece of entertainment that you're too Smart and Intellectual to be fooled by. But sometimes, you just gotta call a spade a spade. Sometimes, the weeb consensus gets it really, really right. Yes, Frieren: Beyond Journey's End is every bit as self-evidently spectacular as everyone says it is, so on-its-face magical it's almost kind of insulting. It's a quiet, meditative fantasy exploration of grief, longing, the passage of time, and what it truly means to live a fulfilling life when everything you cherish within it must one day fade into nothing. It's poignant and intimate on a level that's hard to describe, yet equally grand and majestic whenever it wishes. It's also one of the funniest goddamn shows I've watched in a while, with jokes that hit from unexpected, awkward angles that left me rolling on the floor. If his work on Bocchi the Rock hadn't already proven it, this cements Keichirou Saitou as one of our greatest modern anime directors, a master of melding tones and moods and imbuing every shot with vibrant inner life. It's almost disappointing whenever it leans into action; as spectacularly animated as its battles are, it's those quiet moments of grace and warmth that truly make this show something remarkable. Bottom line, Frieren is a runaway leader for 2023's best TV anime, a show we'll be talking about for decades to come. I can't think of a better high note to start 2024 on.

Dropped:

Shield Hero Season 3 (4 Episodes)

My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer (3 Episodes)

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

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Hide and Seek

Fandom: RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Original Male Characters, Original Female Characters

Word Count: 3225 // Rating: Explicit

Summary: The first rule of hide and seek? Make sure to check your surroundings.

Tags/ Warnings: Requests, Requested Fic, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Family Dinner, Established Relationship, Kissing, Love, Caught Having Sex, Facials, Elvis Doesn’t Wear Underwear, 50s Elvis, Old Fashioned Parenting, This is very Eric and Laurie from that 70s show, Awkward Family Dinners, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings,

Notes: I’m working on my main series’ but this was hot and I had to write it. Thanks @elvispresleyisfit12

Updated 8/23

Request: Could you do one where y/n is like choking on elvis’ cock and her big brother walks in and elvis is at his climax when he comes all on her face and her brother tells the parents

Tags: @elvispresleyisfit12 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics

'Maybe he's under....here!' Elvis said, elongating his voice as he dropped to his knees only to find that under the bed was empty. As he clambered back up with a pout I chuckled, shutting the door behind me as I walked over to where he was now standing and wrapped my arms around his neck. 'Unlucky baby,' I said with a smirk as his frown deepened as he leaned down to kiss me quickly. 'I'll give it to him, that kid sure is good at hide and seek,' he mumbled making me giggle as I noted the genuine upset on his face. We were looking for my younger brother Charlie, who after begging us all day had finally gotten us to play hide and seek with him. I say begged us though it was more begging me than anything. Anyone would think that having your girl's younger brother come and interfere when you were trying to spend time with her would annoy a man. But not Elvis. Elvis was just as eager to join in as Charlie was. After all, he was just a big kid at heart and not having any siblings of his own made him love spending time with mine (though admittedly with Charlie rather than my older brother Jack). In fact, Elvis usually got so into the games we played that not five minutes earlier I had had to coax him out from the hall closet where he had forced himself into the tiniest space to remain undetectable and beat Charlie’s record.

'Nah he's not,' I smirked, making him raise an eyebrow, 'Mama saw him tucking himself into one of the kitchen cupboards.' 'So why are we waiting?' Elvis said excitedly ready to continue his winning streak. 'Because,' I said leaning up to kiss him again, 'he's oh so good at hide and seek which means it could take us what, ten, fifteen minutes to find him?' 'Ah,' Elvis said, cottoning on to my meaning as his hands caressed my sides before landing on my ass which he squeezed roughly. 'We could do a lot in ten minutes,' I said. 'Make it fifteen,' he said as he started peppering kisses down my neck making an excitement settle in between my legs.

As he pulled me to him I could already feel him taught against his trousers and I moved my hand to unbutton his pants making his breathing hitch. 'You're all excited,' I said. 'Have been all damn day,' he said breathily as his hands moved, caressing every inch of my skin they could find. 'You should've said,' I pouted, 'I know he gets all achey without being touched.' 'Couldn't find a moment,' he panted against my neck as his hand ran over the top of my clothed breast making my nipple harden underneath his touch, 'I had to stand and talk to your mother for twenty minutes more than I planned to because I was scared if I came out from behind that kitchen counter she’d see.’ 'Oh baby,' I frowned, pulling back to look at him. 'I need ya honey,' he said. 'What do you need?' I said as my finger trailed along his length gently which made him groan. I loved seeing him like this. He was an attentive man and he always made sure my needs were met but he was always ready to go. A stiff breeze could whip him into a frenzy and whenever something took his fancy he was like a man possessed. In those moments nothing mattered, he needed me and I loved that.

‘Your mouth,’ he said, ‘I need that pretty little mouth of yours wrapped around me.’ ‘Do you want me on my knees?’ I asked looking up at him doe-eyed. His blue eyes were almost black as he looked down at me before he nodded. I sunk to my knees and looked up at him my hand gliding over his cock until I could swipe my thumb across his oozing head. ‘I bet your pants are ruined,’ I tutted noting the damp smear along his flies. ‘Always are when you’re around,’ he said making me smile. Then I leaned forward and kissed his tip making him shiver.

‘Jesus,’ he said as his hand flew to my hair, knotting in it gently. I moved my mouth to his base kissing up his shaft until I was back where I started and could begin to envelop him. And though he was hard to get my mouth around and usually made my jaw ache I didn’t care. I loved the way he tasted. And I loved the way he couldn’t stop squirming under my touch. I inched down as deep as I could and then pulled back my hand replacing my mouth near his base as I pumped him, swirling my tongue around his tip.

‘Baby I ain’t gonna be able to take it much longer if you keep working me like that,’ he said as I pulled my mouth off, my hand keeping a steady pace. He was breathing heavily with his fingers in my hair as I moved my other hand so I could caress his balls. That made him groan loud enough that he had to move a hand from my head so he could put it in his mouth and bite down to keep from making too much noise. Then I changed tactics and put my mouth back on him but instead of devouring him, I lapped at his head my hand coaxing him towards the finish line.

‘Keep going,’ he said in a panted whisper making me hum in agreement, ‘fuck you’re a devil you know that? Humming against me driving me insane.’

I looked up at him my eyes locking with his as I tried to hide a smirk. In most aspects of our relationship Elvis was in control, but right now? Now it was all me.

‘That’s what you want, isn’t it? Me to be all crazy so you can get what you want,’ he said making me hum again, ‘this what you want Mama? Want me to cum down the back of your throat?’ ‘More than anything,’ I said pulling him off him with a pop. I didn’t move my head away though. Instead, I looked up at him open-mouthed with his tip just breaching my lips and oozing salty precum onto my tongue waiting for him patiently as he threatened to spill over any moment. ‘Who knew my innocent girl was so cock hungry huh?’ he smirked. ‘Just for you,’ I counted. ‘Well brace yourself,’ he grunted as his hand clasped over mine and he started to move us in rhythm, ‘cos I’ve got something for ya.’

He was frantic now. As he used my hand to jerk him my other went to his balls cupping them gently.

‘Fuck honey-‘ he said with a groan but his voice was no longer the only one in the room. ‘Mom said are you two ready for dinner because-‘ my brother Jack said as he came into the room and froze. I turned my head catching him standing at my door watching us his eyes wide and his mouth agape. But I couldn’t look at him long as my attention was torn away as Elvis groaned, ‘baby I can’t stop.’

And before I could do anything hot, thick ropes of cum spattered my chin and cheek. As I looked up at Elvis I heard the door slam shut though I could barely register anything and instead I sat there watching him in shock. Elvis was breathing heavily though he broke out in laughter as he took in my horrified expression.

‘Oh my god,’ was all I could mutter as I pulled back and clambered off my knees and stood up. ‘I thought I was supposed to be saying that,’ Elvis chuckled as he tucked himself back into his pants and grabbed a Kleenex off my dressing table so he could wipe my face with it. ‘It’s not funny,’ I snapped taking it off him and cleaning my face looking in my mirror as I did so. He came up behind me and circled his hands around my waist pulling me up to stand flat against him as he kissed my temple. ‘It’s a lil funny,’ he countered making me scowl at him in the mirror. ‘He just saw us Elvis! That’s traumatic!’ I said picturing my brother's horrified face once more. ‘He’ll get over it. It’s natural,’ he said, ‘besides he should’ve knocked.’ ‘And if he doesn’t get over it?’ I questioned, ‘if he runs to tell my mother then what?’ ‘He wouldn’t,’ Elvis said though his face looked nervous. ‘Wouldn’t he?’ I said, ‘he loves getting me in trouble and he won’t be able to hold his water! Oh god, what if he tells my dad.’ ‘He’s not gonna get you in trouble,’ Elvis said, ‘not with something like this.’

I turned around to face him and allowed him to hold me and move a strand of slightly damp hair off of my face as I frowned, ‘I say this with love but honey, you’ve never had siblings. It’s an all-out war zone sometimes.’ Just as he went to speak there was a call from my mother beckoning us for dinner. ‘Just a minute!’ I shouted before my gaze met his again. Elvis sighed, ‘looks like we’re headed to war.’

When we left my bedroom my life went into slow motion. I could feel Elvis’ hand in mine as we went through the motions of sitting down for dinner but I couldn’t function. Elvis didn’t seem to be having the same problem as he spoke with my mother about dinner and our game of hide and seek but I kept my eyes fixed on the table not even bothering to look up as my father and brothers joined us. I couldn’t. I was sure my face would betray me if I dared.Yet my respite didn’t last long though as my father said my name.

‘Huh?’ I said looking at him and then glancing at Elvis who was watching me nervously. I felt his hand squeeze my thigh reassuringly under the table. ‘Do you want to say grace?’ he asked but as he did my eyes drifted to Jack who watching me closely a look of disgust on his face. I couldn’t speak, my words caught in my throat and I couldn’t force them out. Fortunately, Elvis cleared his throat and said, ‘may I Sir?’ ‘Well isn’t that nice,’ my mother said offering Elvis a kind smile. My father seemed to contemplate it for a moment and then nodded interlacing his hands with Elvis and then my brother who were sitting on either side of him. Elvis took my other hand and I watched as they all bowed their heads. Jack didn't though. He was watching me closely so much so I had to drop my gaze feeling the heat in my cheeks. I was mortified.

‘Lord, thank you for the food we are about to receive. Bless the hands that provided it for us and bless the hands that so lovingly prepared it. Amen,’ Elvis said. When I opened my eyes my mother was smiling as she said, ‘oh Elvis you’re such a sweetheart!’ ‘Yes, thank you, son,’ my father said. ‘It’s no bother,’ Elvis shrugged, ‘I’m just happy I get to stay for dinner.’ ‘Well we can’t say no to a polite guest like you now can we?’ my mother said, ‘now boys you could learn a lot from Elvis. I can only hope you’re as polite when you go over to other folks' houses.’ ‘Oh I’m sure I’m just as polite as Elvis,’ Jack said with a scowl that made a pit form in my stomach.

Whilst my younger brother Charlie adored Elvis, Jack didn’t always. It didn’t help that my parents like to compare the two as they were so similar in age. And now without noticing my mother had rubbed him up the wrong. Everyone started eating but I couldn’t. I picked up my fork and started to push things around my plate taking tiny bites here and there as the conversation started.

‘So how’s the new job treating you?’ my father said looking at Elvis. ‘It’s good,’ Elvis said placing his fork down, ’I can work better hours now I’ve graduated.’ ‘Still doing your fair share though?’ my father asked. ‘Yes Sir,’ Elvis said. ‘Because I wouldn’t want you to be one of those types that shirks his responsibilities for an early dart and a good time,’ he said glancing at Jack whose face now looked as if he was sucking on a lemon, ‘because I know a few boys that work there, good guys.' ‘They’re great but even if they weren’t that’s not me. I’m a team player. It just means I can work my hours and have time and cash to treat my girl,’ Elvis said looking at me with a smile. I smiled weakly back at him though I could feel the irritation from across the table. ‘Good because if there’s one thing I can’t stand is that no one seems to want to put in a day's work. They just don’t know how to share the load,’ my father grumbled causing a snort to come from Jack which in turn forced the pit in my stomach to turn into a chasm.

‘What’s funny?’ my father asked making Jack shrug. ‘How about the game last night?’ Elvis said quickly changing the topic. ‘Turned it off halfway through,’ my father said, ‘there was no cohesion on that field.’ ‘I thought the bears did good though,’ Elvis said, ‘they’ve got a better defence this season.’ ‘That maybe but they’re still relying on the same old tactics. Can see them coming a mile away,’ my father said sipping his drink. Elvis and I watched as Jack’s smirk grew deeper at my father’s words, the meaning behind them lost to him. Before Elvis could reply though my mother spoke.

‘Aren’t you eating sweetheart?’ she said noting my plate which was decidedly fuller than everyone else’s. ‘Yeah mama,’ I said, ‘just not that hungry is all.’ ‘Are you okay?’ she said, ‘not ill are ya?’ ‘No, just not much of an appetite,’ I lied. I was hungry but my stomach was in knots just sitting there. ‘You didn’t have anything to eat before dinner did you?’ she frowned making my brother snort again. ‘No!’ I protested. Jack smirked and since no one pulled him up on his amusement he grew more confident and leant forward to tease me as he said, ‘you sure Y/N?’ ‘I’m sure,’ I said vehemently hoping he’d not want to torture me too badly but he didn’t let up. ‘Sure you didn’t sneak off and scoff something?’ he continued, ‘how about you Elvis?’ ‘What about me?’ Elvis asked irately glaring at my brother. ‘You didn’t catch her doing something she shouldn’t right?’ he said with a coy smile. ‘Stop being ridiculous,’ I said snappily. ‘Am I being ridiculous? What do you think Elvis?’ Jack said. ‘Oh whatever it is the two of you are bellyaching about will you just quit it!’ my mother said exasperatedly catching all our attention. She shook her head and took a bite of her food with a sigh.

‘Mama I wasnt-‘ Jack protested but she scowled at him making him pout and put his eyes back on his plate. ‘Every damn day you two are arguing about something,’ she said. ‘You okay hun?’ my father said watching her with concern. ‘Fine,’ she said, ‘just wish these kids would grow up sometimes.’ ‘Sorry mama,’ I said placing my hand on the back of hers. Jack didn't say anything else but he did start eating again signalling he was letting the subject drop which allowed my nerves to settle as did the fact Elvis placed his hand on my thigh again and squeezed it reassuringly. Tentatively I reached for my fork, finally feeling my appetite creep back in.

‘Are you okay mama?’ Charlie asked finally. He had been lost in his own head, picking at his food with his fingers though he had looked up as the dinner conversation started to get heated. My mother turned and smiled at him. ‘I’m fine baby,’ she said, ‘your siblings are just being silly is all.’ ‘They’re always silly!’ he giggled. ‘Must be playing with you all day,’ I giggled, my worries melting away as he grinned at me. ‘I’m not silly!’ Charlie protested. ‘I don’t know Charlie you might be the silliest of us all,’ I chucked. ‘Nuh-uh Elvis is the silliest!’ he said. ‘Oh yeah lil man?’ Elvis chuckled, ‘why’s that?’ ‘Because you put your wiener in Y/N’s mouth,’ he said with a grossed-out expression. Silence fell on the table. I could feel my heart in my stomach and my parent's steely gaze on me and Elvis as well as Jack's smug grin.

‘Charlie,’ I said nervously feeling the corner I was painted into closing in on me by the second, ‘what are you talking about?’ ‘Yes Charlie what are you talking about?’ my father said in an icy voice. ‘I think you’ve got mixed up there kiddo,’ Elvis started making Charlie pout even harder. ‘Nuh-uh I saw it. You thought I was hiding in the kitchen but I was in the closet and I saw you,’ Charlie said as he continued to eat his dinner proudly though I suspected it was more to do with his spectacular hiding spot than outing us. Jack looked as if he was going to burst into laughter.

‘Mr Y/L/N I can explain,’ Elvis stammered looking to my father who held a finger up to silence him as he turned to Jack whose amusement was suddenly gone. ‘Did you know about this?’ he asked. ‘Dad I-' ‘And you said nothing? Just decided to tease your sister at the dinner table like a child? Huh?’ he said sternly. ‘How am I on the hook for this?!’ Jack asked. ‘Daddy-' I started though I didn’t know who I was trying to defend my words were shot down by his icy glare. He placed his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers. I could still feel the heat on my cheeks and the sweat pumping off of Elvis who was sitting so close to the firing line.

‘Now,’ he said calmly, ‘since everyone wants to act silly we’re gonna play a little game.’ ‘Darlin’ come on let’s just eat dinner,’ my mother said forcing a smile at him though her expression was one of disappointment as it landed on me. I longed for the ground to swallow me up. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my wish as my father ignored her and continued. ‘I’m gonna count to ten. And whoever lied to me in my own goddamn house tonight better have found a helluva good hiding spot by the time I’ve finished. Understand?’ ‘Daddy-' I started but he cut me off with the commencement of his countdown. ‘One.’

The sentence was no sooner uttered before the only people left at the table were two very angry parents and an oblivious Charlie who was contently chewing down his spaghetti blissfully unaware this his crown for best hide and seeker was about to be snatched away.

#My writing #elvis presley #Elvis #elvis x reader #elvis fic #Elvis Movie #Elvis Presley Fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #hide and seek

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