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undead-supernova · 1 month

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This Love is a Shrouded Mystery

Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10

Masterlist

plot: welcome to your well-anticipated album release party! you couldn't be happier...right?

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: bro there's so much angst I'm sorry, mention of smoking & alcohol

easter egg count: 20

wc: 5k

note: I made the album cover/tracklist and wrote all of the lyrics mentioned in this chapter and I'm super proud of it! Thank you for reading my hard work hehhehehehee

ALSO DO NOT REPOST THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ! Thank yew

He hated all the tiny things.

The way you crinkled your nose every time The Beatles came on. How you held your acoustic guitar like it was a delicate creature. The nights he would be up late practicing, only to find you passed out with your mouth slightly ajar and snoring. The mornings he spent listening to you making little sounds in your sleep, as if you were so close to saying something but didn’t know how. Your poetry and your music and your scent and your stupid smile you got whenever you looked at him and how grateful he’d been when he first noticed.

And he really didn’t hate it at all.

He just missed you.

It was fucking torture, being away from you. He sat up, night after night, wondering what you were doing. How you felt now. If you wanted him back. If he was better off without you. If you could ever speak cordially and what that would cost.

As if he truly cared about the answer or the consequences.

Eddie just missed you.

You stared at yourself in the floor-length mirror, looking over your outfit for tonight. Trying not to suck in your stomach, trying to let yourself be the person that you wanted to be.

A spaghetti-strapped crop top with Madonna-Whore Complex stitched in white across the breasts. Short shorts just to say Fuck You. Block-heeled boots laced up to your knees. All dolled up with a diamond necklace and thin rings. A velvet choker with a broken heart pendant in the middle.

There you were, a vision in pink.

There you were, a shell of the person you used to be.

Maybe it would be better to play a role tonight.

But nothing was able to halt the worry, halt the anxiety that coursed through your veins.

That last night, with your eyes glistening with grief, you’d told him you had to go into hiding. That you needed to get away from the public eye. That he couldn’t come with you. But he’d seen pictures of you since, albeit a bit blurry, running in and out of the recording studio in New York City.

There was an edge to your outfits now, with a touch more lipstick and heavier eye shadow. Changed your hair and painted your nails anything but your usual pink. Your face, the one that once held a permanent smile for the press, now hardened. Blank expressions. No smile, no feigned light in your eyes.

It was like you were wearing some kind of armor.

It was like watching someone trying to adapt to their surroundings.

Flailing, slipping.

Trying to prove to everyone else they can do it without thinking about the consequences of their actions.

Eddie could only hope you wouldn’t let yourself drown in the process.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said for the third time in the last ten minutes.

If anyone had a goddamn braincell, they could see that you weren’t good. But this had been the last few months for you. Doing whatever anyone asked. Staying busy. In and out of the studio so often that it became your second home. You honestly couldn’t count how many times you’d fallen asleep—you got more there than when you were home anyways.

How could you when the only thing you saw behind your eyes were crashing waves, the roar of the boat as it pulled you further and further away from the life you desperately wished you were still living? You wrote and wrote and wrote, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to figure out how to apologize. How to profess your love. How to feel any semblance of desire to say goodbye.

Your label had been shocked when you’d gotten the album done so quickly after months of producing nothing—especially calling around and getting Halsey, Lucy Dacus, and Janelle Monaé to feature. Not to mention Maisie Peters who’d actually reached out to you. It was a match made in heaven, an album stitched and woven together by the bitterest fate.

The label gladly rolled everything into production, insisting that you do as much promotion as you could. So, you were a little money machine, doing bland Instagram reels and Tiktoks, practicing your smile in between takes. You were fine to be a puppet. You’d done everything they wanted you to, right? What’s a little bit more?

What’s better than tightening the collar on your losing dog?

“Can you get that done for me, sweetie?”

“It would be so nice if you could just do this one thing.”

“You know, the fans would love it if…”

“We’d be grateful if you just…”

“You look tired.”

You turned to Este, noticing her raised eyebrow and crossed arms. The past few minutes had been spent zoning out, trying to keep yourself from thinking too hard. But it only made things worse because all you could do was remember why you were trying so hard not to think. Your friends knew better, but you hated admitting to it.

“Just trying to wake up the excitement,” you lied.

“For yourself or for the label?” Becky asked.

You glanced over at the door before back at her. “Yes.”

“You got this, okay?” Mary encouraged, rubbing your back. “You’ll feel better once you get there. You know you will.”

“Yeah, you’re right. At least you guys are here.”

“We’d never miss it.”

A pang of grief washed through you at the reminder of someone who would most definitely miss tonight.

Eddie knew what tonight was—and he could’ve sworn it was going to kill him. Nothing hurt him more than not celebrating your album release with you. He was planning to show up and support you the best he could. Show you off. Make sure you felt as celebrated as you could be because you were so amazing.

But here he was, back in Wayne’s house for the weekend. Laying low, talking to the walls as if Wayne could hear him. Screaming at the ceiling for someone to give him a reason to make sense as to why his wounds were still bleeding. Even after five months.

Bouncing his knees on the edge of the guest bed, growing more and more anxious as the night fell. Going in and out of the back porch, cigarette after cigarette. Hoping and praying that Wayne was a ghost and was able to talk to him through the windchimes hanging by the front door. Feeling sick when they hadn’t moved. Not even once.

Fuck, Eddie should be there with you. He should be by your side.

Instead, he was ashing another cigarette and reaching for the Garfield mug hanging on the wall. Poured the last few sips of Jack Daniels left on the kitchen counter. Trudged back into the guest room.

Tried not to cry.

You were trying not to cry.

The party was spectacular, with all your favorite foods laid out and cake and your favorite music and your friends and, and, and…

It was everything you could ask for from tonight, but nothing you’d actually asked for. Clara had been sneaky, making sure that you assumed the livestream started two hours before it actually did. Brought you to this fancy restaurant, all decked out in themed balloons and pictures of you. A Congratulations banner and a big bottle of champagne for you to pop.

And you were happy, you really were. But there was just something that overwhelmed you about it all, something weighing on you. Something eating at your stomach, making it nearly impossible to eat or even talk correctly.

Scott kept you grounded the most, always giving you a word or two of encouragement. For the last five months, he’d been cautious of you. You knew it even if he never said it. Him and his wife, Rebecca, made sure to offer you a place to stay when New York started to feel like a stranger. And hiding out in Tennessee was never a bad idea, ending up getting a third home near him, just outside of Nashville.

Tonight was no different. It was in the way he offered you food, asked if you needed some more water. If you looked even remotely uncomfortable, Scott was there to direct you somewhere else. Kept whispering that you were doing great. Kept reassuring you that your album was amazing. That you were amazing. That it was all going to be okay.

And it was a daydream, a surreal experience you were still getting used to after five years slowly rising into the public eye. Now here you were releasing your third album, knowing in your bones that this was your best work yet.

And everyone was being so nice.

And the party was beautiful.

And you looked beautiful.

And…

And Eddie wasn’t there.

He wasn’t anywhere these days, actually. It was like he had vanished entirely. There were no paparazzi pictures, no fan sightings. Even People Magazine had him on the front cover literally saying, “Bad Boy Eddie Munson Mysteriously Disappears from Public Eye.” You were uncertain if he’d ever be seen again. And you knew it was your fault. All of it was.

What felt the strangest was how the internet was still speculating whether or not you and Eddie broke up. It had been five months and you hadn’t told your publicist to confirm it. Didn’t even speak of it.

The most peculiar thing was…neither had Eddie. There was nothing for anyone to do but question why the two of you hadn’t been spotted in public together even once.

Maybe one day you’d feel strong enough to bury this relationship.

Today definitely wasn’t that day.

And tonight definitely wasn’t it either.

But your album was all was about Eddie.

Everyone would know it.

And you just had to hope that one person out there would listen to it for the music and not for your real-life experiences.

But you guessed that was just how things would have to be.

So, you put on a smile and told yourself to get over it.

Smile for the cameras.

Come up with every way to deflect.

Since you’d broken up, it seemed that your label had set up a livestream for the fans to listen to the album with you at the same time. Experience it together. Get to send in questions. Get to connect. Eddie thought that was sweet, knowing how much you enjoyed talking to your fans.

And he knew he shouldn’t, but he really considered hopping on.

Was it a little weird for him to tune into the listening party?

Maybe.

But he wanted to hear the album, wanted to hear the songs you’d barely shown him when you were together. You were always so shy with your music you wrote for him—which was fair. He did the same thing, keeping any and all projects about you a secret. Hell, the new record set to drop next month was done in the last five, his fingers unable to do anything other than race up and down the neck. Stuffing his pick between his lips as he wrote and wrote and wrote. Tried to write himself out of whatever this black hole was that was starting to swallow him.

And now here he was, ready to hear what you had to say.

Sighing, he grabbed his laptop.

But maybe you were better off without him.

Maybe this was all for a reason and everything just had to happen this way. It would be a nice thought, right? A nice explanation for the twisting of your gut as you set up for the livestream. Standing on a pink stage, practicing your smile one last time before the cameras got the shot juuust right. Took a step to the right to show off a poster with the album cover on it.

All you could think as they counted down from five was, I hope Eddie is watching.

When Eddie saw you, he knew he’d fucked up already.

You were radiant, always a vision in pink. Always a vision, period.

The album cover had the name “Madonna-Whore Complex” with a picture in the center of bunched up silk—pink, of course. The same color you were wearing. The same color Eddie had yearned to wrap in his arms and make breakfast for.

And when Eddie heard your voice, his stomach flipped.

“So,” you started. “Before we even get to the tracks, I wanted to kinda explain the album title. I know people got a little weird about it, which is fair.”

Eddie could tell that you absolutely did not find that fair.

“But I think that we live in a society that is so obsessed with a woman’s place. If she’s happy with herself and comfortable with her sexuality, she must be seen as a villain or a whore. There’s no room for her to be a good person or even able to truly be in love.”

Something tugged at Eddie’s chest at the sound of you mentioning being in love. If only you’d said that to him five months ago. If only those words had left your lips, he’d have gotten on his hands and knees to make you stay.

But you hadn’t.

“It seems that you cannot be one or the other. Either you’re this harlot who runs through people like it’s nothing or you must be this chaste woman who is only allowed to be idle in the corner. I think that I’ve always been put in this position, and, with the content of this album, I feel like I’m able to both be satirical about those accusations and show the vulnerability of, um.” He watched your eyes dart away nervously before coming back. “The vulnerability of how that has affected my personal life and my personal relationships.”

“Oh, and I really love the back cover,” you said with a wide grin, shifting the subject. “Especially the track list and the font and, oh my god, the people I collaborated with? Incredible artists, right? I just feel really excited for you guys to hear it in a few minutes.”

It was then that he remembered he hadn’t looked at the track list, too anxious at the thought of you referencing anything about him on there. But of course, you did. What else would this album be about? Some other guy? He knew better than to speculate anything like that.

His heart began to race as he found it all laid out for him already, his words being spat back out at him. Something True. Could You Say the Same? Acceptance Speech. Trade You for the World. Could’ve Fooled Me.

Eddie’s stomach twisted, queasy with the exact anxiety that he’d spent the last few months trying to prevent. But he couldn’t run away from this. He was already here, watching you nearly trip over your heels in real time. Reading the titles out, each one feeling like a prison cell built just for him.

Shakily, you stated, “Okay, everyone. Let’s start the album.”

Took a deep breath.

Closed your eyes.

Eddie took a deep breath.

Closed his eyes.

And listened.

“Okay, my pretty boy…now move!”

Eddie felt like he was losing his ability to breathe. Track after track, jumbled with lyrics all meant for him. All written for him. Words upon words of poetry that told him how much you missed him and how guilty you fucking felt and how you just went ahead and chose the world over him and, dear god, it was all too much for him.

Grief settled in his chest at every line that he called his favorite.

Okay, Now Stop!

“Okay, now stop!

We're dancing dirty to The Beatles and the Stones.

Okay, now stop!

You're dancing pretty asking me to lead you home."

The Bisexual Slut (featuring Halsey)

“This one boy whimpers on his knees

Twenty girls beg to finally taste me

If I’m so greedy, so damn needy

Then why does their love come so easy?”

My Body, Your Choice

“Should I base my worth off your fickle insecurities?

Take a scalpel to my skin to justify your animosity?

If I’d known my body was stained with impurity

I would’ve begged my mother to deliver me with modesty

But I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing

Fuck you, I’ll never change a thing.”

Something True

“Tell me a story, one where love always dies

Say it with finality in your glassy brown eyes

Thread the needle to weave through our fate

Knowing the outcome, you still beg me to stay.”

Madonna-Whore Complex

“My halo slipped, and my limbs are sore

But his head seems to stay in between my legs

I’m wrapped around his fingers as they choke my neck

I’m his sweetheart, his princess, his saccharine whore.”

The Mess (You Once Called Yours)

“And your fingerprints stain this house

Baby, I’m haunted by your phantom touch

Oh, now I’m screaming and pleading, growling and howling,

‘Please end this agony, my love, it’s all too much.’”

Your Residential Coward

“Guess she’ll never really let me live that down

Throwing daggers at my portrait now that I’m gone

And now that I finally see my tilted crown

It turns out I was the jester all along.”

Could You Say the Same?

“Simple questions come with simple answers

That’s why I sew my mouth shut

The moment I saw you, wild necromancer

Devotion gnawed at my gut.”

Synonymous (featuring Lucy Dacus)

“Sucking in my stomach in attempt to survive

It’s like I’m fifteen again

All crooked teeth, low self-esteem, and love-deprived

Only coping with a wilted pen.”

My Gentleman

“You’ll never let me look away, that is the cerulean dream

Could be your future wife if we let our consciousness stream

And I confess I don’t think that would be too much to hope for

So keep talking like that, let the wine pour, pour, pour.”

Acceptance Speech (featuring Janelle Monáe)

“In the modern age, a sacrifice is already made

The moment that you’ve made a choice

But, baby, the problem always chooses herself

And suddenly she has lost her voice.”

Trade You for the World

“I stood in sepia tones while you bled electric crimson

Built the motivation before I built the scene

Led the poets astray, bathed them in patient indecision

Now I sit in vignettes of truth, desire what was in between.”

Back to the Beginning

“City after city, glazed in momentary dignity,

I chased the prophecy of my becoming

And, dear god, if I could tuck my tail between my legs

I’d run us right back to the beginning.”

Could’ve Fooled Me (featuring Maisie Peters)

“And we’re dancing around each other tonight

Elevators built like confessionals

Desperate to blanket myself in transparency

I wanna say, ‘Pretty boy, you’re sensational.

We weren’t the only freaks anyhow

But how could anyone not love you then?

And how could they not love you now?’”

Eddie watched you dance and party. Vaguely answer the questions about what certain lyrics meant. Focused on the sound more than the overall meanings. Thanked everyone for giving you this celebration and how you were very grateful for this opportunity.

And, peculiarly, you were handed a new acoustic guitar, soft pink and sparkling. Your name written in calligraphy down the neck.

“Um, so since this is a special night,” you said while trying to move your white capo down to the third fret. “I wanted to play a special song that didn’t make the album. It just didn’t fit the rest of the album’s vibe, so I cut it.”

You laughed and Eddie knew he was the only one who could notice it was out of nerves. You tested the strings, making sure everything was in tune.

“But I wanted to play it for you guys if that’s okay?” Laughing again, you shook your head. “I hope everyone said yes, otherwise this would be so embarrassing.”

You leaned into the microphone, glancing up at the camera as if you were making direct eye contact with Eddie and Eddie alone.

“It’s called Questionnaire.”

The chords were simple.

C, Em, Am.

F, G, C.

It rang out soft, sweet. Albeit a bit sad.

He noticed the way you chewed on your lip before you started, finding your groove.

“Do you think about the way we live without sanctuary?

How the fates wrap their hands around our throats, cutting off our breath?

Do you think about the way we live without sanctuary?

How there’s no guarantee when it’s over there’ll be anything left?”

Eddie felt a sickness wash over him as he heard you sing directly to him. You were right. It was different from the rest of the album.

He tried to gauge how you were feeling, knowing damn well the only way he could was through the music itself. How the change in chords matched the change in your emotions.

G, Am, F.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

Am, G, F.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

The camera pulled in closer to your face, as if they knew that Eddie was watching. Waiting. Pathetically desperate to hear what you had to say to him.

“Do you wonder if there’s any chance that this was all just a dream?

But there’s no fucking way you can’t hear me calling your name.

Do you wonder if there’s any chance we could wipe ourselves clean?

But there’s no fucking way to explain the way I’ve been claimed.”

You repeated the Ohs, belting out the last set before you changed the sound completely.

New chord patterns. New set of emotions. Harsh strumming, the sound growing louder and louder as frustration filled your voice.

“Do you know the clouds darken whenever you’re away?

Convinced myself that my storm would worsen if I’d stayed.

God, I need you now to answer my revelation.

Is there any dignity in self-preservation?”

You repeated the line again, sounding angrier than before.

“Is there any dignity in self-preservation?”

The buildup faded away, the rough strumming turning light again as the chords of the verses returned. There was a small instrumental as the camera pulled out to show you on your pink throne, surrounded by the pink balloons and holographic streamers.

You were alone.

Eddie could just barely make out the tears trickling down your face as you began to strum each chord once.

“Do you think about the way we lived without sanctuary?

How we fought and you fought for me until I gave it all up?

I think about the way I live without your sanctuary.

How there’s no guarantee I’ll ever fall in love again.”

You sighed and sniffled softly before repeating it.

“How there’s no guarantee I’ll ever fall in love again.”

Despite no one being in the shot, he could hear applause coming from around the room. He could even hear Becky, Este, and Mary individually, all cheering you on.

He watched you stand, laughing off the emotions as you blotted the wetness around your eyes. “Okay, Now Stop!” started playing over the screen as people scrambled to disassemble the makeshift stage.

It occurred to Eddie then that there…had been no chorus. No hook. It was just a list of questions for him and statements for yourself. A bout of self-loathing and the guilt that he was only now starting to grasp.

And he realized that he too was crying, trying desperately to cease them with the back of his hand. And then his sleeve. And then the tissues he scrambled around the bedroom to find.

As soon as the livestream ended, Eddie pulled out his phone.

“You’re so brave for doing that,” Becky said, crushing you in a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

A broken smile met your lips. “God, everyone’s going to talk about it.”

“Let them,” Mary said with a scoff. “Who cares?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, knowing full well who you really wanted to talk about it. To hear it. To think about it.

Your phone began to vibrate in your pocket. As you pulled it out, something resembling belief in fate rushed through you.

Eddie.

You couldn’t suppress an audible gasp, taking a step back from the conversation.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you mumbled before walking away quickly. Pressed that green button. Whispered, “Hello?”

“Oh, hey.”

His voice crawled over you in a rush of relief, an ease that had been missing for so fucking long. “Eddie, hey,” you said nervously, shocked by your own ability to say his name out loud.

“Hey, is this an okay time?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re good. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he lied, fiddling with blanket. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the album. It’s really incredible. Your best work yet.”

“Oh, thank you, Eddie. Um, you think?”

“Hm?”

“That it’s my best work?”

“Of course it is,” he answered with a breathy chuckle. “Are you kidding me? You took your individual sound and expanded on it and made it into a high-quality concept album. And the lyrics are incredible. It’s beautiful.”

“That’s really kind of you to say. I’m really proud of it.”

“You should be.”

“Are you working on anything new?”

“Yeah, we’re actually finishing up the album now. Should be out next month if everything goes right.”

“I bet, um. I bet it’s incredible.”

Eddie’s chest tightened at your hesitation. “Each song transitions into one another. You’d think it was cool.”

“I’ll have to listen to it. If, um, if you think I should.”

Swallowing a sigh, Eddie closed his eyes and tried to focus on keeping his voice level. Keep from cracking. Keep from begging for you to come back.

“It’s only if you want to,” he replied, trying to stay neutral before moving on. “Are you doing okay? I know you get really anxious after being, like, out in the open for a while.”

“Yeah, sure I am.” He knew you were lying. “It’s just work.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay in case you weren’t,” he admitted.

“You know…” you trailed, pausing.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. “You didn’t have to call if you didn’t want to…”

“Ah, come on,” he said with a chuckle. “I wanted to call you, so I called. Promise.”

Anxiety began to wash over you as you bit the bullet.

“Is that everything you wanted to say?”

Why hasn’t your publicist confirmed the breakup?

Is this killing you like it’s killing me?

“Well, uh, I don’t know.”

Did you really mean what you said about never falling in love again?

Does that mean there’s a chance?

“What does that mean?” you asked. “I’m confused.”

Is this over?

Are we over?

“I think… I think that’s all I had to say.”

And there was the disappointment.

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I hope you have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“Oh, hey, one last thing.”

You couldn’t help that ugly surge of hope. “Yeah?”

“Remember to take care of yourself. You matter more than anyone else does.”

“Oh,” you responded, deflating. “Yeah, I’ll try, Eddie. Take care.”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” you whispered before ending the call.

There’s nothing to say once the phone call ends. No one mentioned the breakup. No one mentioned how the album he called incredible was about him. About the love. The crash and burn. How your love still glowed inside you, bright enough for him to touch if he’d just stretch his fingertips a little further.

And yet, neither of you said a thing.

And neither of you admitted to what you knew was coming in his own album.

You found yourself mute as you shuffled into the back of the black SUV and got out of the city. Left your buzzing phone next to you, knowing that Eddie wouldn’t call you again. Knowing that everything must be over now.

If this was closure, it sure didn’t feel like it.

When you walked into your house, still empty and swirling with dust, you let the grating silence whisk you towards the wine cabinet. Got yourself the shiniest glass you had, poured the cheapest bottle you found. Sat on the back porch and looked out at the moon.

If things were different, Eddie would be here right now instead of a voice in a fucking phone. His voice, a tiny shard of glass that was surely going to rip you open and never mend itself again.

He’d sit next to you with his own glass. Comment on how nice it was to just drink the cheap stuff. Roll you a celebratory joint with dried rose petals, the way you liked it. Ask if it was okay if you spent the night out here, just looking up at the moon together.

It’d been a full year since you’d met. Five months since you last spoke. And now you were starting to fold, starting to maneuver yourselves into strangers. Even if that was the last thing Eddie wanted. Even if the mere thought of never talking again made nausea pool in his stomach.

Eddie desperately wished you were looking at the moon together.

And maybe you would feel different than you did tonight. Maybe you would’ve had a perfect night with all your accomplishments and the perfect man beside you to experience it all with.

But he wasn’t there.

And you felt so alone.

So fucking alone.

Tears streamed down your face, a burning in your chest growing with each What If that you conjured.

You were not better off without him.

He knew it the moment you told him goodbye on the island. He knew it the moment he returned to California, shutting himself off from the world. He knew it the second he called you and the second he heard you say goodbye one last time.

Eddie was not better off without you.

once again thanks to the lovely @strangergraphics for making beautiful dividers for me. it is an honor!

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x you #modern!Eddie x you #boyfriend!Eddie x reader

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johnpaul-ao3-feed · 5 months

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#mclennon #mclennon fic #john/paul #the beatles #beatles fic #ao3feed

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givemequeen · 5 years

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going to pride with The Beatles

(not my picture; source) request: Beatles x reader hcs modern au, where reader is either not cis or not straight and they go to a PRIDE PROTEST!! I think it'll be really cute. (Also lgbtq+ for the win) a/n: i chose bi reader because if you know you know and sorry if i say anything wrong about pride. i want to go but i can’t because of several reasons. so yeah ALSO GUYS FEEL FREE TO ASK MORE lgbtq!reader :))) pairing: The Beatles x bisexual!reader summary: going to pride with them x year: physically early 60s (63-65) but its 2019 so modern au? word count: 597

paul:

when you came out to him he was like ‘sicko’

of course, he cared in an ‘i-love-you-thanks-for-telling-me’ way

but wasn’t like ‘this-changes-everything’

was so happy when you asked him to go to pride with him

he had never been, he had heard of pride but never been

he had always wanted to go so when you asked him he went all out

he bought bi flags for both of you and got t-shirts and everything

let’s just say he went all out

and you loved it

when you guys got there the morning of pride he had a lil surprise for you

turns out he got u backstage tickets to every performance

AND he is performing

his show is the last one and it’s so romantic

it’s aimed at you

just love songs

with a gay twist

you loved it. he loved it. everyone loved it.

george:

was kinda like Paul

pretty chill about it

going to pride was great!

fans didn’t run to him

mostly cause not that many people noticed him

he wore big funny Halloweeny-pride glasses, a hat and painted a pride flag across his cheeks

you laughed so much when you saw him

“oh shut up yn. it’s cute”

“sure is Harrison”

since both your identities were hidden the day was pretty sick

George loved it because he hadn’t gone out like this (without anyone knowing him) in so long

he was fucking hypnotized by your big smile as you jumped around and danced at an after party

enjoyed it a lot and put it on his calendar to go next year

john:

john was a bit surprised

he didn’t know much about it

so you told him all about it

when you found out

how you found out

the next day he surprises you with a pride flag and a very cheesy sign that said “come to pride with me”

you were like “when did u make that??” but didn’t question it

he was very excited because he just was okay

you were also surprised but accepted since you had always wanted to go to pride

john has already gone once

mostly by accident cause he was piss drunk and didn’t know were he was

so he held ur hand tightly and led you through it

all the fans were pretty chill

they all asked wtf was he doing but he just said moral support/fun cause he didn’t want to ‘expose’ you

it was so fun and John loved it

“erm yn...” he said after you got ready for bed. you put down your book and looked at him, he sat in front of you at the foot of the bed

“can we go again next year?”

ringo:

he had so many questions

but like in a cute way

not annoying

you asked him to come with you to pride

his eyes lit up like a little kid in Christmas

he was so curious about everything

so he bought everything he saw

then he took you backstage and you met all your favourite (gay) artists

Ringo kinda just sat back and let you enjoy the night

you were a bit sad since you thought you were boring him so when you went up to him at an after-party he was like

“wait what- i’m not bored, i just dont want to hold you back, y’know?”

“hold me back?”

“yeah, do your thing.”

“Ringo you’re not holding me back!”

“promise?”

“promise, now come on. i want to party with you!”

45 notes · View notes

imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Forty-Five) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Sir kink. Sex toy. Brat taming. Bondage (ropes). Forced orgasms. Overstimulation. Oral sex (male receiving). Dom dropping.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 11,148

Timeline: Season 6 Episode 24. Three months after part forty-four.

Hotch was always gone nowadays. Between work and running errands for the three of us always stuck at home, he was just too busy to sit and relax. I missed him. I missed us, specifically, and how we used to spend every second together, and how good we were together at work. I missed work. I missed driving to Quantico every day or getting on the jet for a thousand different cases. I missed the bullpen, the roundtable room, Garcia’s office, my desk, throwing papers at Morgan’s head as he worked across from me, or teasing Reid, whose desk was across the aisle from mine. Everyone knew that I was anxious to get back— Hotch most of all. I loved our daughter more than anything in the world, but I loved work just as much. I understood now how Hotch felt about Jack.

“Elle was antsy to get back to work after Garner,” Hotch would always tell me whenever I would sneak into the office to look at some of the cases sitting on his desk. I jumped in my own skin as he caught me snooping. “You Greenaways are all the same.” He laughed and snatched me away from the office, practically carrying me down to the bedroom so that we could cuddle while watching Emily sleep in her crib.

At least we got those moments. They were scarce, but we tried to make as much time as possible, even if most of that time was spent sleeping. When he wasn’t around, though, I still tried to include him as much as possible. It was hard for him to talk on the phone whenever he was gone on cases, but I still sent him pictures and videos of the kids to keep him updated, like when Jack held Emily in his arms the other day and he was making fart noises in her face in order to get her to laugh. He called me immediately after I sent the first video. His voice was shaking on the other end, and I knew that something was wrong, so I asked, and he told me that Haley never sent him videos of Jack when he was young. She sent him one, and after that, they stopped altogether. I realized in that moment that he was terrified that I was going to stop sending him videos of Jack and Emily, and he would end up missing out on everything in their lives, and then I would leave him the same way Haley left him. So, I kept sending them. Every chance I got, I was recording one or both of the kids and sending them straight to Hotch’s phone.

It had only been three months since Emily was born. Sometimes it felt like an eternity, other times it felt like time was passing by too fast. When Hotch wasn’t around, it felt like time was moving at a turtle-like pace where I spent every waking moment counting the seconds until he would come home; but then, when he would be there, holding me in my arms, it felt like it came and went with a snap of my fingers. I wished I could have switched time. I wished that I could have just spent an eternity in his arms, not worrying about when I would see him next or if he would even come home.

I suddenly jolted awake when I heard Emily crying in her crib. “Shit.”

Hotch had called last night to tell me that they were finishing up a case and that he would be home soon, but his side of the bed was empty, and all of his stuff was untouched, which meant that he was going to be later than expected. So, that meant that I had to grab Emily and try to calm her down.

I sighed and sat upright. Emily continued to cry and shriek in her cradle until I leaned in to pick her up. As I cradled her in my arms, leaning back against the headboard so that I could close my eyes and rest for a little longer, I hummed a toon for her. Hotch’s favorite song was Blackbird by The Beatles. Since Emily had been born, he had been singing her to sleep with that very song every chance he could get. It seemed like it was the only way she could fall asleep now. I worried that the tradition and schedule was going to ruin her sleep patterns—and I guess I was right since she kept waking up throughout the night whenever he wasn’t there to sing to her. I kept trying to hum for her, despite that.

I was half asleep when she started calming down. I decided that putting her back down in the cradle wasn’t going to help—and even if it would, I was too tired to move. Having a baby was exhausting. With Hotch gone so often, I was having to endure these long nights alone, and the house was so quiet during the day that it sent a shiver up my spine, not to mention I was so bored whenever Emily would be put down for a nap in the middle of the day and I couldn’t call Hotch because he was busy. I couldn’t wait to get back to work. I knew that it didn’t make sense to do it just yet, but I was practically dying to get back. If anything, I’d ask to go back in a week or two. Hotch wouldn’t like the idea, but I was sick of sitting around with a sleeping baby all day while I was just drained. I needed a case. I needed something to keep my mind busy besides my daughter. As much as I loved her, I needed work, too.

“I could get used to this,” Hotch said. I opened my eyes while perking up to see him standing in the doorway, holding his go-bag in one hand and a bag of chocolates in the other. “Coming home to my gorgeous wife and our perfect daughter…” He set down his bag and hurried over to me on the bed so that he could kiss my forehead. He smelled like the jet. “I brought you your favorite chocolates from Seattle.”

“Mmm… Gimme.”

Just as I said it—not having even reached for them or anything along those lines—Emily started squirming and crying in my arms. There it was. Every time there was a bit of peace with Emily, she suddenly started losing it again. I couldn’t win. So, I sighed and slumped back again, ignoring the pleasant surprise Hotch had for me just so that I could try to focus a little more energy into dealing with my precious, perfect, miracle—No. The truth was, she was all of that, but she was also a little screamer, whiner, and… Oh, I loved her… I just had to remember that.

“Here, you take the candy, I take the baby,” Hotch said. He set the bag down between us, then reached to take Emily. “Oh, listen to our little singer.” He adjusted her in his arms with a bounce while standing up again so that he could bounce on his toes.

I opened the bag and took one piece of chocolate before setting the rest of them on my bedside table. “For the past four days,” which was how long he was gone for, “all I’ve done is change diapers and sit around, waiting for her to start crying again. Nothing helps.” Within an instant, Emily stopped crying, instead opting to start cooing and laughing at him. I rolled my eyes. “I hate you.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.” He shook his head at me and sat back down. “Listen, Jack used to cry every time I held him. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t seem to get him to calm down and love being in my arms. Even when he was already asleep and I’d pick him up just to hold him and admire him, he would suddenly wake up, as if he could tell that it was me, and he would immediately start crying. I hated it. The worst part was, every time Haley or Jessica would take him, he wouldn’t fuss a bit. I didn’t understand why. But now I’m on the other end of that deal, and I can tell you, Y/N, it’s nothing you’re doing or not doing. She’s just…” He smiled down at her. “I don’t know… But it’s nothing you can control, baby. I promise.”

I sighed. “One would think after carrying her around for nine months and then staying with her for the last three while you’ve been off at work, she would warm up to me, but nope.”

“She will eventually. We’ve got the next eighteen years at least with her. We’re going to be just fine.”

I smiled and snuggled up against his side, hiding my cold hands under his soft, warm shirt. His abs flexed against my freezing touch for a short moment before he relaxed and shuffled down on the bed somewhat so that I could rest my head on his shoulder, and he could kiss my hair. He inhaled deeply. Despite the fact that Emily didn’t like settling down in my arms anymore, at least we could afford to have little moments like these.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?” he inquired quietly, trying not to disturb me if I really was. I shook my head, though. “There’s something I need to tell you, then.” I hummed a question against him. “Cody and I had a meeting today.”

Uh oh. Personal meetings with the Director were never good during work hours. We had a friendly relationship with Cody, which allowed us to invite him over for dinner occasionally, and for our wedding ten months ago. But meetings during work were never good. Cody meant business while we were at Quantico, and him and Hotch liked challenging each other’s alpha personalities like it was fun for them or something.

“They’re making changes to the department again.”

I groaned, “I swear—”

“It’s okay. They’re just going to be contacting different people in the unit with different offers in order to consolidate their forces into other departments.”

“One of these days, I’m going to storm in there and ask why the hell he keeps sticking his nose in our business when we’ve been his best unit for at least the last ten years—or since you took over.”

“He’s getting pressure from the higher ups, baby. He’s doing his job, the same way we are. I’m just telling you this because if you’re approached by another department, you should tell me immediately.”

“I’m not going to leave the BAU, Aaron. I don’t care what deal it is someone has for me, I’m not leaving the one place that feels like home away from home. For the first time since I graduated high school, I feel like I have a purpose. People care what to hear what I have to say, people trust me, people love me, and people consider me family there. No offer can make me abandon my family.”

Hotch tensed in response to my words. “I think you should consider taking an offer in another department that doesn’t require you to travel as much,” he said quietly. I turned my cheek to look at him. “With Emily and Jack, our hands are so full, but we’ve been making it work because you’ve been at home. What happens when you’re back in the field?”

“Would you take the same job, if you were offered it?”

“Probably not.”

“Why?”

“Because I love the field.”

“Exactly.”

“Y/N…” he whispered in my ear, reaching over to lift my chin with his fingers. “You should really consider it. I don’t want you to get hurt out in the field.”

I put my hand over his. “Aaron, if there’s no pressure on you to stay home with the kids, and you just get to stay with the BAU because you love it, then I should be shown the same consideration.”

He kissed my cheek. “You’re right.”

“I know.”

He chuckled lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you.” I turned to look at him and kiss his lips slowly and passionately. And then his phone started ringing, making Emily squirm before letting out a cry that practically said: “Why have you awoken me from my slumber?!” I sighed. “Aaron—”

“I know, I know.” He passed Emily over to me gently before he started rolling off the bed so that he could answer the call in the hallway. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll be back in a sec.”

As he left the bedroom, I adjusted Emily in my arms, bouncing her lightly while cooing against her nose that everything would be alright. I was so done with the shrieking. Someday, I was going to give her a lot of shit for all of this yelling, crying, and pooping. She was going to hate the way I would inevitably tease her about it endlessly, but she was my daughter… my perfect baby girl… I wanted to remember her like this forever and always. When she was big, and maybe expecting a kid of her own one day, I’d tell her about how she kept me up night and day with her shrieking. This would all be a distant memory before I would even know it. I felt my heart break somewhat. I didn’t want her to get any bigger than this. Growing up meant that she would want to explore the world, and I knew just how cruel other people and places could be, and especially to innocent, precious little rays of sunshine like her. I didn’t want her to get hurt. Ever. I wanted to just keep her safe in my arms until the end of the time. I could do that, right? No… But I could cherish this for a little longer, at least.

“They need me in the office for something,” Hotch whispered to me while walking back in. I let my eyes fall shut in order to hide my disappointment. “Here…” He reached out for Emily, offering to help calm her down and put her in bed before he would leave. I let him. As he lifted her and rested her tiny torso against his shoulder, giving him a chance to pat her back while bouncing on his toes slowly, he started humming Black Bird for her. I smiled and slumped against the pillows. “I’ll call Jessica to see if she can stop by later to watch the kids so that you can rest for a bit,” he said after noticing how I was already out of it.

I nodded with my eyes still closed. “Thank you.”

Emily started calming down. Her cries and shrieks slowly turned into pants that turned into coos before she fell asleep in his arms. “And like that…” he whispered, “she’s out like a light.” I heard him shuffle to the crib so that he could set her down. Our bed shifted as he sat next to me. “Baby,” he put a hand on my thigh, “call me if she starts fussing again and your humming doesn’t work.” I nodded. “Y/N, I’ll stay, if you need.”

“No,” I insisted weakly. “Go. I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just… Aaron…” I opened my eyes to look at him. “Promise you’ll let me come back for the next case?”

He stared at me for a moment while registering what I said. When it dawned on him, he shook his head. “I can’t promise that.” He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I’ll see you later tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered, my eyes falling shut again.

Not even an hour later, however, Emily started crying again, and Hotch was already long gone again, leaving me to roll out of bed and lift her up into my arms. I didn’t bother trying to sing to her again. Apparently, that was Hotch’s thing, and I was stepping on his toes by making the futile attempt. So, I just sat there and cooed to her while heading downstairs to make some food for myself and also Jack who would be waking up in a few minutes to start playing video games and watching movies for the entire day. I smiled when she managed to fall asleep after feeding, giving me a chance to make myself a lazy breakfast.

When Jack woke up, he came running downstairs in his pajamas, he begged for me to grab the Cocoa Puffs from the top shelf in the pantry. Hotch and I had to put them up there because Jack was getting addicted to them. He was eating them 24/7. But, on occasion, especially when Hotch wasn’t around, I would let Jack have some. So, I carefully handed Emily over to him so that I could grab the box from the top shelf and pour a fair portion into a bowl for him.

Afterwards, when he had shoveled every single pebble into his mouth and then proceeded to slurp down all of the chocolate-y milk, he put the dish in the sink for me, like I asked, then scurried off to watch TV, like I assumed he would. Only, this time, I decided to join him. With Emily in my arms, I dragged my feet all the way from the kitchen to the living room, where I crashed on the couch. Jack turned on something from Cartoon Network. You know, Saturday morning cartoons. I had Emily sitting on my stomach, letting her little hands play with my fingers up until the point where she started trying to chew on them. I shook my head and kissed her cheeks. At least she wasn’t teething yet. JJ warned me that if I thought Emily’s cries and shrieks were bad now, I just had to wait and see how bad it would get within the next few months or so when Em would start teething. Shit. I was hardly getting sleep as it was, I couldn’t imagine it getting any worse.

Halfway through a cartoon, Emily fell asleep against me. Her little breaths slowly turned into hiccups, which made me laugh. JJ used to warn me all the time when I was pregnant that Emily could hiccup in the night, which would keep me up. I guess I got lucky, though, because she only hiccupped once, and it was while I was at work with Garcia. We were sitting in her office, waiting for the team to call for help or with an update. We were ridiculously bored. At some point, Garcia revealed that she had a huge tub of Twizzlers hiding under her desk. Together, we went through all of it, and I supposed that was the trigger for Em to start hiccupping non-stop. It wasn’t annoying, like JJ said it would be. No, it was funny. When it started, I jumped, thinking that something was wrong, but then Garcia started laughing when it kept happening, at which point we realized what was happening. That was the only time she ever hiccupped, though. I almost wished that it would have happened again while Hotch was home, just so that he could have laughed with us.

Finally, when she stopped hiccupping during the cartoons, my smile faded and my eyelids started getting too heavy to keep open. So, I did what felt natural… I slowly fell asleep with the glow of the TV in the room and dumb cartoon sounds ringing in my ears.

----

I woke to the sound of the front door opening. The TV was off, Jack long gone to go play soccer outside, it seemed by the way I could hear the soccer ball hitting the side of the house over and over again as he practiced his passing. I rolled my eyes. At least Emily was still asleep on my chest, no sign of waking up any time soon. The drool soaking my shirt was a downside, though.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Hotch whispered.

I shook my head. “It’s okay, baby.” But then I realized who it was that was standing there and why that was odd. I tilted my head in curiosity at him. “Wait…”

Since he had been called away so early and left in such a rush, I was sure that he was headed off on a case elsewhere in the states. Yet, there he was. Standing there in his suit—which he must have changed into either before leaving when I fell asleep, or maybe even when he got to the office if he didn’t want to disturb me—he smiled shortly at me. At first, I didn’t think anything about it. I figured that we were both just tired, and he was probably busy, so I didn’t ponder on his short, yet still sweet, smile that he sent me, and I reciprocated.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah…” He sounded like his mind was elsewhere.

“Is everything alright, my love?”

“Has anyone called with an open position?”

I furrowed my brows. “No.” Why was he asking?

Hotch swallowed hard before moving to approach the couch and sit down beside me, offering to take Emily from my arms. I watched him curiously. He was being awfully quiet for someone who just got home and would usually shower me in kisses and a thousand different ways for him to tell me he loved me. But he seemed like something awful was weighing on his mind, which was so concerning to me.

“Baby, I’m gonna have to go,” he admitted quietly to me while looking down at Emily. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrugged and smiled with relief. “Okay, so you have another case. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Hotch didn’t say anything. He kept his gaze glued to Emily as she played with his finger using both of her tiny hands. Something wasn’t right. If Hotch was being sent on another case, he wouldn’t have come home, especially not early. He would have stayed at the office and he would’ve just called me to tell me that he wouldn’t be coming home for a few days. This was different. He was acting differently.

Emily kicked against his elbow as she continued to wrestle with his finger. I cooed her quiet before looking back up at Hotch. “What is it?”

He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “They’re sending me to the Middle East to lead a task force.”

My heart sank in my chest. I let out a breath of disbelief then hid my face in my hands. A task force in the Middle East? What was he talking about? The BAU didn’t handle things like this— especially if it were just him. He warned me that morning about the possibility of reassignments, but I didn’t think this was what he had in mind, and I thought that we were going to talk about it before either of us accepted or declined any kind of offer that would be thrown our way. We just had a baby, and now he was being sent on a mission that was going to leave me alone for months? I didn’t know how to do any of this on my own. I wanted to go back to the BAU desperately, but that was because I was confident that between Hotch, Jessica, and I, we could balance it all. Jessica was struggling to keep up with Jack and Emily as it was… I couldn’t imagine what would happen if Hotch left. There was a strong chance that I wouldn’t even get to go back to the BAU if this actually happened. That didn’t feel fair. Why did I have to give up my dream so that he could lead a task force that he didn’t even want anything to do with? Or… did he want this and he just never told me? If so, when did he decide that it was something he was interested in pursuing, and why the fuck did he not tell me? It suddenly all made sense to me why Haley always got so frustrated with him. Our family was right there in D.C. and Virginia, and he wanted to tuck tail and run off to who knew where in the Middle East.

“Don’t do this to me, Aaron… Please…” I lifted my head away from my hands so that I could look at him again. He seemed so sad to be leaving, but he wasn’t doing anything to prevent it. This was an opportunity, not an order. He could have turned it down whenever. “I can’t do this alone.”

“I’ve already talked to Jessica. She’s offered to move in until—”

I scoffed. “So, you’ve already made up your mind and talked to Jessica about it before you talked to your own wife.” I shook my head.

How could he do this? At first, I was distraught because I couldn’t bear the thought of being away from him for so long, especially while our daughter was only three months old, which wasn’t old enough for him to be away from her. He was the only one who could get her to sleep nowadays. The only one. No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t get it to happen. I couldn’t do it all alone… I had never spent so much time away from him before Emily, but at least I knew that he was coming back to me every case. Now, I didn’t know anything.

I grabbed his face between my hands and turned his cheek to make him look right at me, though he was fighting to still look away. I was going to make him face this. If he was going to make a decision like this, he had to at least look me in the eye as we talked about it. I pouted at him. “Please stay,” I begged.

He let out a shaky breath. “I can’t.”

“Please.” Shouldn’t that have been enough? Shouldn’t his wife begging him to stay with his family been enough to convince him to never leave again?

“I can’t… The decision’s already been made. I’m leaving in a week…”

I hit at his shoulders roughly, a choked back sob finally escaping me. A fucking week. I was going to lose my everything in a week, and there seemed to be nothing I could do to stop it. Was this fate? Were we always destined to fall apart like this? The worst thought I had in that moment was, what would Haley have done if she were still around and in my shoes? Maybe she would have taken this chance to leave him. Honestly, if she were still alive, I probably would have run to her, of all people, and asked what to do; even though I already assumed that she would tell me that it was time to leave him. But I didn’t want to. I loved him more than anything, and I didn’t want to have to leave him just because he was leaving us. That didn’t seem entirely fair.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m unsure.”

“What will you be doing there?”

“It’s classified.”

I chuckled. “Of course it is.”

“Baby, you know that I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“Is that what you told Haley before you left for that last case before she decided to leave you?”

“Y/N,” he growled with a bitter tone.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.

I knew that was wrong of me. I knew that bringing that up was unfair. Hotch and I always promised to fight for each other, even if it meant fighting with each other from time to time. Haley never gave Hotch the same courtesy. That was why she left and why I wouldn’t. Maybe Hotch should have thought about that before taking this offer in the first place. This offer… How could he beg me to tell him if someone called me with an offer, but he didn’t tell me first when he got an offer and before accepting it? I was so pissed… I couldn��t even bear to sit with him any longer. I knew that if I stayed on that couch with him, my anger was only going to grow, and I was inevitably going to hate him. Not on my watch, though. I just needed time to let this blow over so that I could try talking him out of it again later.

I took Emily from him without asking. Hotch hesitated for a moment, practically reaching out for her again before she was even out of his arms. I shook my head at him. “Maybe you should go talk to your son about why he won’t have a dad for a while.” I stood and left the room with that last stinging line.

----

The next morning, I was still angry. I think yesterday was spent sprinting between depression and denial over and over again while trying to find some kind of acceptance in between, but there was none. So, I woke up in the morning to find Hotch still resting peacefully, as if nothing were wrong, and I was mad. I was fucking pissed. He had fucked up a handful of times in the past—just like everyone else—but this was probably the worst. It felt like we were approaching the end. With our newborn in the cradle next to our bed and our son just down the hallway, I knew that it couldn’t be the end. It just couldn’t. But how was I supposed to believe that when he was going to be gone? We were going to both be alone on opposite sides of the world…

Perhaps there was one thing, however, that could remind him of why he married me. Maybe it would even be enough to convince him to stay. But I couldn’t do it while Jack was around. Saturdays were Jack’s relaxing days, then Sundays were his homework days, which meant that he was going to be working down in the dining room all day, which was too open for us. So, it had to wait until Monday. The good news was, that on Monday morning, I was still just as pissed as I was on Sunday. In fact, probably more so now. Yesterday, while I was sitting with Jack to help him with his homework, Hotch didn’t ever approach us. He didn’t ask to talk to me, he didn’t talk to Jack, and he didn’t even sit down to spend time with us or eat meals with us. Fucking ridiculous.

So, while Hotch was dropping Jack off at school, I started preparing my plan. At least, the first half of it, because the rest of it required Hotch to actually be there. When I was ready, I carefully lifted Emily out of her cradle and carried her to her own room to sleep, just in case. Then, I heard the door open. I rolled my shoulders back to fix my posture, as if I were suddenly dawning a new persona, and then I headed downstairs.

“Jessica called, Y/N,” Hotch said from the front door, meanwhile I was still on the stairs, “she said she’s going to be traveling next month, so she won’t be able to look after the kids. We might have to think about getting a nanny since you’re going to be heading back to—” He stopped when he saw me turn the corner. “I…” He chuckled to himself. “What’s this for?”

“Not you.” I turned away from him, the short skirt of my dress flaring up somewhat, revealing how I wasn’t wearing any panties.

I spent most of the morning walking around in that dress, bending down in front of him every chance I got, reaching up for things like the clean towels in the closet or a book up on the highest shelf in the living room. Hotch was silent about it at first. Then, he started testing the waters to see if I was really being bratty or just obvious. He learned quick that I was being bratty. When he asked if I could grab the laundry, I simply said, “No.” When he asked if I wanted any breakfast, I said, “No,” and walked away. Around ten, he asked me if I wanted him to pick up Jack from school later, and all I said was, “I don’t care.”

Next thing I knew, Hotch stormed across the room, held his hand out, and then he pressed his grip against my neck as he pushed me and against the wall. I gasped for air. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because Hotch only squeezed tighter, and he pressed his thigh between my legs. He glared at me. His eyes searching mine, I could see the hints of anger and lust brewing inside of him, something that she was trying to hide, to no avail.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Nothing, what?”

“Nothing, Aaron.” I was testing him. He huffed before moving his grip around the back of my neck so that he could start leading me towards the bedroom. “No, wait— Aaron—” I started playfully struggling against him because I didn’t really want to escape from him. At least, not yet. “Baby, I’m sorry!”

Hotch didn’t respond to me. He just opened the door angrily, then led me to the bed with him, still careful to ensure that I wouldn’t trip or hurt myself on my way there. As we approached the end of the bed, Hotch pressed on the back of my neck with his palm, forcing my face down onto the mattress. I hissed at the feeling. When I tried to stand up straight, Hotch increased his strength, pinning me down. I finally gave in, my knees buckling in response to the way his aggressiveness made me embarrassingly wet. But before I could get too comfortable, Hotch made another move. While he grabbed my wrists in order to spread my wingspan across the width of the bed, he also kicked his foot between my ankles with a short and stern demand to spread my legs.

When he was sure that I wasn’t going to budge, he carefully stepped away from me, then moved towards the closet. Shit. Shit, fuck, shit, shit, fuck—Hotch had been so careful with me since we found out that I was pregnant. We hadn’t used the black box since the honeymoon. Of course, since having Emily, it was hard to find time here and there to actually get to all of the fun stuff in the box. I mean, there was hardly any time for us to fuck at all—but we managed to find time since it was an important part of our lives and our relationship, and we knew it. But this… I didn’t think he was going to snap like this.

“Do honorifics mean nothing to you now, brat?” he hissed while pulling out two length of ropes.

“I said I’m sorry!”

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Stop speaking out of turn,” as he took my left wrist and looped the rope around it. “Got it?” I nodded. He chuckled at how I caught sight of the trap before it could catch me. He kissed my shoulders. “We’ll use Colors.” I nodded again, knowing that he was probably on edge, too, considering this was the first time we were using ropes in a long time. After roughly tying my left wrist to one of the bedposts, he said, “Color, baby girl.”

“Green.”

“You’ll tell me if it’s Red?”

“Yes, Sir.”

With the reassurance, Hotch moved towards my other wrist, which he tied to the other bedpost. “Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this way.” Suddenly, he flicked the skirt of my dress up, leaving me entirely exposed to him. I gulped. “Stay like that.”

He stepped away from me to grab something else from the black box, but I couldn’t hear what it was until it was too late. He pressed a vibrator right against my clit. My legs buckled again, the mattress and the ropes barely catching me. When I tried to close my thighs around the toy to try and grind against it, or maybe even to escape it, Hotch pressed his legs between my knees to make sure that I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t even think about cumming, slut.”

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath while hiding my face in the covers.

“Brats don’t get to cum.” He started moving the toy up and down my slit, making sure that every sensitive part of me felt the full force of the vibrations. “I’m gonna keep it right here,” he pressed it directly against my clit again, “and if you cum, things will only get worse. Got it?” I whimpered. He grabbed my hair and pulled me up roughly. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He let go of me and turned up the speed of the toy. I cried out somewhat and tugged at my restraints as hard as I could, as if it would help make him stop. Even if I escaped, he wasn’t going to stop. He would inevitably just pin me down himself and make sure that I stayed there the way he wanted, taking what he had to give me. Fuck. My stomach was already twisting into a knot. I felt so out of practice with all of this. My stamina was suffering the most, which meant that my orgasm was already approaching, and it was going to be damn near impossible to hold back.

“Sir, may I cum, please?” I begged before I could get too close to the edge.

“No.”

I cried against the comforter. “Please.”

“I said, no.”

I tensed my stomach as much as I could in an attempt to stop myself from getting any closer to cumming than I already was. “Please, please, please…” the plea kept escaping me without thinking. I knew that it wasn’t going to do any good. I knew that he was probably grinning behind me while watching me struggle against the ropes that were keeping my arms spread, and at how I was wiggling my hips in protest—even though it was probably just making the stimulation worse. “Sir,” I choked out, “I can’t—”

“Hold it.”

But I couldn’t hold it back any longer. My legs shook as I tipped over the edge, my orgasm washing through me ten times harder than I had anticipated, making me scream into the mattress. Before I even came down, though, Hotch shoved two of his fingers into me and curled them right into my g-spot. I struggled again. It was too painful to keep going, but Hotch didn’t care. I had cum without permission, especially after being a brat all day, and that was a big no-no. Not that he didn’t expect this outcome. He knew exactly what game it was that he was playing by denying my orgasm and then proceeding to force it out of me, anyhow. He was hoping that I would break the rule. He was counting on my broken down stamina betraying me during the one scene where I needed it to help me out the most; because no he had every reason in the world to make my life a living hell.

“Did that feel good? Hmm?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“It felt good to break my rule and cum without permission?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“It won’t feel good in a few minutes.”

My eyes widened as I glanced back up at the wall. “No, please, wait—”

“Color.”

“Green,” I answered reluctantly. As much as I hated the thought of what was in store, Hotch hadn’t actually crossed a line with me yet.

Hotch kept the vibrator pressed against me, ignoring the way I was still trying to close my legs and pull against the ropes, and that was when his fingers started thrusting in and out of me at an unrelenting pace. “You want to cum, huh? Fine… Cum. I’m not going to stop.”

My knuckles turned white against the ropes as I kept pulling as hard as I could. “I’m sorry, Sir. Please.”

“Are you sorry? Walking around in this dress all day… Teasing me… How did you think this was going to end?”

“I— Fuck—” I stopped myself when he added another finger inside of me. “Please, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I made an attempt to buck my hips away from the touch of the toy and his fingers, but he moved with me and then pressed harder to make sure I wouldn’t budge. I was too sensitive to keep going. I probably had another orgasm in me, but that was all, considering how out of practice we were with this stuff. If he tried to go any longer than that—

“Fuck!” I cried, shaking against his touch. “Please!”

“Cum,” he demanded when he felt me tighten my walls around him. I shook my head. “Do it. You said it felt good, so do it again.” I kept shaking my head in protest, but my body had decided that his words were enough to convince me to tip over the edge, so I came again, this time with a little less force considering how tired I was getting. “Poor baby…” he cooed when he saw me shaking helplessly.

“Please…” I whispered. “I can’t…”

“You don’t get to tease me and think that there won’t be a punishment in store for you, slut. You know the rules.”

“I was just mad…” I croaked. Hotch slowed his fingers and turned down the toy somewhat. “I just wanted to keep you here. I’m sorry…”

He turned the toy off and carefully slid his fingers out of my wet entrance. “Are you dropping?”

I shook my head, but Hotch was already working on untying me. “I was just mad,” I repeated. I was just mad and thought that I had to do something to make him mad, too… I was just mad…

----

Despite what we had done, I still wasn’t over Hotch’s decision, or the arguments that we were having. I was sore from straining my muscles, and my mind was exhausted. So, I was really just done with being around him constantly. I needed a break, and I figured that the best way to do so was by texting Morgan to see if he wanted to grab some lunch with me, and when I got the go ahead from him, I slid out of bed, got dressed into something more appropriate, and headed out without saying anything to Hotch.

When I arrived at the restaurant, I turned off my phone so that I could give Morgan all of my attention. I approached the hostess’ table to tell them that I was meeting someone. They grabbed a menu for me before leading me through the dining room and to the back door where the patio was open since it was such a nice day out.

“They live!” Morgan cheered from the table across the patio. I smiled and hurried over to him, my arms out to catch him in a hug after he stood. “It’s so good to see you, baby cakes.”

I squeezed his neck as tight as I could. “Freedom’s nice.”

He laughed and released me. “I’m sure.” He pulled a chair at the table out for me, then pushed it in under me slowly as I sat down. “How’s my goddaughter?”

“Always crying.”

“I told you I’d take her today.”

“You had her yesterday.”

“For an hour.”

“You know what, next time, she can just sleepover at your house with you and Clooney, and you can get up every time she throws a fit,” I joked.

“Deal.”

I squinted at him before glancing down at the menu to consider what I wanted. The thought struck me that if Hotch were really leaving, then we were probably going to have to get a nanny, like Hotch said when he came home from dropping Jack off at school, but it would also be nice to have Derek’s help. He always offered, after all. There were a handful of times over the past few months where he kept asking to take Emily to the park, or to introduce her to Clooney—which was a big no-no with me right now since he was such a big dog—and so on. Maybe it wasn’t too far out for me to ask if he’d be willing to help out just a bit. I mean, I didn’t mean that he had to constantly be there or answer my calls every time, but… Since she had been born, Morgan had been hanging out with Emily every Sunday that he was in town, so maybe he’d be interested in hanging out with her more often than just Sundays. Then again, he had his own life. He was still in his playboy phase, so it was unlikely that he wanted to carry a baby around all the time. Though, babies were chick magnets… Hmm…

“Something’s on your mind,” he finally said.

I looked at him. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at the menu.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m thinking about what I’m going to get.”

“Mhm. Hey, remember that conversation we had when we talked about how I always know when something’s wrong with you? Yeah… I remember. And it’s still true. So, tell me.”

I sighed angrily, slamming the menu shut, and set it on the table while rolling my eyes. Not at him, of course, but just in general. “Did Hotch tell you that the Director is trying to rearrange the BAU’s funds again?”

“Yeah. He warned the team that we might get offers.”

“Did you?”

“I was offered Kate’s spot at the New York Field Office again.”

“Are you gonna take it?”

Derek immediately shook his head. “No. I love where we are too much. Besides, NYC is too dirty and smelly for me.” Yeah, well, the Middle East was all dirt and sand… Maybe Hotch should have considered that aspect, too. “Y/N,” he began warily, “did you take an offer?”

“No…” I croaked, looking down at the napkin on my lap.

“Did Hotch?”

My lip quivered as I nodded.

Morgan sighed. “What is he—” He stopped when the waiter came over with our drinks. “Thanks.” When the waiter was gone, Morgan continued, “What was the offer?”

“A task force in the Middle East. The rest of it is ‘classified’, apparently.” I shook my head in disappointment while picking up my drink.

Morgan eyed me carefully but didn’t say anything yet. He was waiting for me to find the words to describe how it was that I was feeling about the whole situation, but the truth was that there were no words. I knew that I was angry, I knew that I was depressed, and I knew that I was going to be very lonely for a while because of how this was making me feel and react. I was lashing out at Hotch, and that wasn’t the right thing to do. Some part of me understood that. Some tiny, little piece of my mind was screaming at me to do better, to support Hotch like I normally would because I didn’t want to turn into Haley; but reality took the wheel instead of reason. The reality was that Hotch was leaving his family at a time when he needed to be around more. I just had a baby, our daughter was so young that she still needed her father around, and Jack needed reassurance from his father that he wasn’t being forgotten. But Hotch had decided to run from all of that. He made the choice to leave, and so I got angry, and I wanted him to fucking know it. Not that it would help.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “Is it weird that I just want to go numb?”

“No.”

“Then, why can’t I?”

“Because you know in your heart that you have to solve this—if not for your relationship, then for yourself. I know you, Greenaway, and you don’t like leaving pieces of your life unresolved. Whatever the decision ends up being, I know that you’ll at least end up feeling at peace with it eventually because you’ll know that you did all you could.”

“I want him to stay.”

“What does your life look like if he doesn’t?”

“Dark.”

“No. I mean, really, what would your life look like? How would you make it work, because I know for damn sure that you’re not going to give up on him.”

I hated it when he got all wise on me because that was when he started to make the most sense. “I—”

“Alright. What can I get for you two?” the waiter said while speeding over to our table and flipping his notepad open.

After we ordered and turned in our menus, he hurried away, and I looked at Morgan again.

“Realistically, Jessica would have to help out more, which isn’t fair of me to ask of her, even though, apparently, she’s offered to move in with us while he’s gone. I just don’t want to do that to her. But Hotch was right when we talked on Saturday about it. He’s going to be gone and I’m going to be busy with work. There’s no one around who can rush home if Jack or Emily suddenly need something important. Like, I can’t just drop a case because of it, you know? When Hotch and I were working together, it was easy because one of us could stay at work while the other ran home. But now… That’s not an option anymore. So, realistically, my life is going to boil down to family or work, not family and work.”

“And you don’t want to have to make that choice.”

“Of fucking course not. I’ve been dying to get back to work, Derek. I can’t stay holed up in the house any longer, I swear.”

“So, you need an extra pair of hands,” he said, almost like he was alluding to something.

My eyes widened at the realization. “No—”

“—Yes—”

“—Absolutely not!”

“Why not, pudding?”

I squinted at the nickname. “Because you have a dog, a line of girls waiting to fuck you, and your own life to worry about.”

“Well, Clooney can either stay downstairs all the time because you guys got those godforsaken baby gates—” Yeah, we all hated those because we kept forgetting that they were there, so we kept tripping, but then it was also ridiculously hard to open them while juggling a baby in one hand and trying to get the lock undone with the other— “Or, he can stay with a friend.”

“So, we do musical chairs, but with our babies. You get Emily, and your friend gets Clooney?”

“Why not?”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe…” I started laughing.

“Listen, Y/N, I really want to help out. You’re my best friend, and Hotch means a lot to me—and I know how much this opportunity means to him—and Emily’s my goddaughter, so, of course, I want to help out as much as I can. It’s not a big deal. Please, let me help.”

I stopped laughing long enough to gauge just how serious he was. His posture was still straight and unchanged, his eyes were soft like he was pleading, and his breathing was steady, which meant that there was no hint of an act or a lie. He was being serious. When I thought about asking him to help out here and there earlier, I didn’t anticipate this would be the outcome. But how could I say no? I mean, even if I did, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Derek Morgan was going to jump every obstacle between him and Emily until I would inevitably just give in to his offer; so, why not just make it easy for him?

“Okay.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

----

When I arrived home, a smile still on my face as I recalled a stupid joke Morgan cracked during lunch, I set my stuff on the table next to the door and hung up my jacket on the coat rack. The house was dark, which was… peculiar. It was Monday evening, which meant that Jack should have been running around or doing his homework downstairs. And there was no hint of Emily crying. Peculiar. Where had everyone gone?

That was when I turned into the living room to see Hotch sitting there, facing the TV, which was off. Odd. I carefully approached him in case he was holding Emily in his arms and she managed to fall asleep. But once I got close enough, I realized that he was just sitting there. He was staring at the wall.

“Hi,” I welcomed cautiously. He didn’t say anything. “Aaron?” He looked at me shortly, anger washing over him before he turned back to face the wall. “Where’s Jack?”

“A friend’s house,” he answered shortly.

“Emily?”

“Sleeping upstairs.”

“And you?”

He didn’t answer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where were you today?” he asked quietly and calmly, even though there was a bite behind his words that insinuated that he was secretly boiling with rage. I sighed and shifted to take his hands. He moved away from me. “I dropped today.”

I stopped. “What?”

“I Dom dropped, and you weren’t there. I called you three times, and you didn’t pick up. I’ve just been sitting here all day, freaking out, thinking that I actually hurt you this time around, and that maybe that was why you were avoiding me… and that…” He took in a deep breath and looked away from me. “Where were you?”

“Baby, I didn’t know—”

“Where were you, Y/N?” he repeated, this time his anger breaking through.

I swallowed hard, then sucked in a shaky breath, none of which was helping me calm down for his sake. Hotch had never Dom dropped. Ever. I should have known that the one time I would disappear after a scene without a trace and without talking to him, it would take a toll. I should have known. And, yet, I didn’t do anything to prevent this because I was so caught up in the idea of escaping him and our stifling home long enough to just feel my legs again. Realistically, what I should have done was told him initially how I was feeling. I should have told him that I liked all the attention, and I liked what we were doing, and I was okay with the punishment I received for being a brat, but that I needed a break from all of it. I should have told him that I was mad at him. I was mad because he was leaving, and not even the sex was going to keep him home with me.

He would have understood. He would have cared for me and made sure that I didn’t drop, which would have been enough aftercare for him to not drop. But I wanted to see my friend, and I didn’t take my partner’s feelings into consideration. That wasn’t right. Not only did I fail in that moment as his submissive, but as his wife, and as his partner for nearly four long, blissful years. We were more open than this. We didn’t abandon each other’s feelings like this. All I could think was that I was sorry, but I knew that wouldn’t fly in this situation. I needed to do more.

“I was with Morgan, getting lunch.”

Hotch buried his face in his hands. “You could have told me that.”

“I had to turn off my phone so that I could focus on him. I’m so sorry, baby.” I tried reaching out for him again, and this time he let me. I put my hands on his shoulders, then slowly started squeezing, massaging away his tension, releasing all of the anger that was building up inside of him. “How long have you been dropping?”

“Since you left.”

“Okay…” I kissed his bicep. “Okay. I’m sorry. Did you have lunch?” He shook his head. “You need to eat. Do you want a sandwich or a salad or something?”

He moved to put his hands over mine. He brought them over his shoulders, moving me so that I was sitting on my knees behind him, my chest pressed against his back. “Can we just…” He let out a sigh after kissing the back of my left palm. “There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge. I’ll have that.”

I kissed the back of his head. “Alright.” I let him kiss my hand again before I shifted off of the couch and headed to the kitchen.

Once I had the pizza reheated for Hotch, I carefully balanced the plate and a cup of iced tea for him out to the living room. I slowly handed it to him while sitting down. He silently thanked me before setting the glass down, then settling his grip around one of the piece’s curst. I scooted closer to him so that I could rub my hand over his back as a comfort. He melted somewhat. He continued to eat through the two separate pieces before drinking the iced tea. Then, when he was done, he relaxed against my touch, letting me run my fingers through his hair over and over again.

“Baby, if I knew, I would have stayed. If I knew, I would have come back. I am so sorry, I wasn’t here, Aaron. You’ve never dropped, so it didn’t cross my mind.”

He sniffled. “I don’t know why it happened. I’ve just been so fucked up since I found out that I’m leaving, and I’ve been taking it out on you, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve gone that far with you this morning.”

“It’s okay. I was fine with it, Aaron, I swear. I know you think you hurt me, but you didn’t—you never have, and I doubt that you ever could.” I carefully grabbed his hand, but he reached around to hug me. I kissed his neck. “Look at me.” He did so. “How do we handle this in the future? Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll make sure this never, ever happens to you again.” When I offered getting him some food, I had just guessed that was what he needed, but everyone handled dropping differently.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he admitted. I brushed my fingers through his hair. “I wouldn’t know what would help…”

“Well, there’s a handful of things. You know me, I like physical touch. Being held by you and loved by you is enough to help me not drop or to stop dropping entirely. But some people like service—like food, or clean, warm clothes or sheets; others like distractions, like movies or exercising; I’ve been with someone who always needed sexual release when she Dom dropped.”

Hotch squinted at me. It wasn’t that he disliked hearing about past partners, but he didn’t like being compared to them. That wasn’t even my intention. I only brought it up because it was hard to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to cum while he was upset. That didn’t make him a bad guy. Even though it was a long time ago, and she and I were young, I could remember vividly how she’d tell me if she felt off after a scene, and I would just know what to do, and she’d immediately feel better. That was how we worked. But I never thought that Hotch would need it, too. I hadn’t seen this coming—which was very much my fault—and so now I needed to find out how to prevent this in the future. His job as my Dominant was to make sure I was in a safe environment before, during, and after play scenes. I neglected my job as his submissive to show the same courtesy. She would have never let that happen because she knew herself well enough to warn me, but Hotch hadn’t seen this coming.

“Just,” I patted his chest, “whatever you feel like you need, tell me. I don’t want you to ever have to go through this again—especially alone. Okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He stayed quiet in order to consider all of his options. I continued to brush his hair back out of his face. A thought that was hitting me was that Hotch hadn’t cum before I left, which could have been part of the problem in the first place. He was so caught up in the idea of punishing me that he hadn’t even taken the chance to fuck me, or even use my mouth. And then, like he was reading my mind, he said, “Could you…” He gulped and rolled his hips instinctively. I smiled lightly. “I’m sorry… That’s stupid…”

“No, it’s not,” I insisted, shaking my head. “Just relax.”

I slid off the couch and landed on my knees before crawling my way between his thighs. He was already hard in his pants from waiting with anticipation. The point wasn’t to tease and play with him. The point was to make him relax and have him release the stress and anxieties that came with dropping. So, I immediately fiddled with his belt, buttons, and zipper, then pulled his pants down—with the help of him lifting his hips up, of course. When he was just in his boxers, I grabbed onto his waistband, then looked up at him. His head was already thrown back against the cushions, his arms stretched out over the back of the couch. While sliding his underwear down, allowing his erection to spring free against his stomach, I asked if he was alright. He nodded shortly.

When I took his shaft in my dominant hand, he hissed and tensed. I shushed him quietly to make sure that he would relax again, and I didn’t move until he did so. As his thighs on either side of my body released the tension that had built up, and his hands turned from fists to laid out palms on his chest, I pumped my hand up and down a couple of times before moving to luck my tongue over his tip.

“Fuck, Y/N—” He stopped himself from moaning too loud because Emily was still asleep upstairs. “More…” He tangled his hands in my hair. “Please.” I let him push my mouth onto as much of his length that would fit—and then some. Rather than pulling on my hair, like he normally would, he instead opted to run his thumb over my cheek bone to encourage me. “So good,” he whispered when I started bobbing my head quickly. He held me as I hallowed my cheeks and used my tongue for extra stimulation. The goal was his release, that was all. There was no need to waste any kind of time. “Baby…” He was so breathless, and I could feel him tensing up again, so I snuck my hands under his shirt to feel up his loose abs, careful to avoid the scars that had been there for years and would be there for the rest of his life. He removed his hands from my hair. When I felt his fingers dance over mine through his shirt, I spread mine so that we could interlock. “I’m gonna—” His abs tightened against my touch, a thousand curses and breathless moans escaped him, and his hips bucked around slightly as he came. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— Shit—” He whimpered submissively as he rode out his orgasm. When I was sure that he was done, I slowly pulled off of him and swallowed, and I wiped my lips clean with my fingers. Hotch sat up to slide his pants on. “Come here.” I sat with him, but then he moved us so that we were spooning together. “Thank you.”

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes.”

I kissed his bicep that was against my cheek. “Good. I’m glad.”

Silence hung in the air for a few minutes as we both caught our breath, and I was thinking about how he didn’t want me to leave today, and I didn’t want him to leave in a few days… It was all so messy.

“We do have to think about getting a nanny,” Hotch whispered. I scoffed. “I’m serious. With me gone and you heading back to work, it just makes sense that we have someone here all the time with Emily who’s not Jessica.”

“Well, maybe if you stayed, we wouldn’t—”

“I’m not fucking staying, Y/N,” he hissed. “I’m sorry, baby, but I don’t know how much clearer I can be.”

“I’m not going to stop trying to keep you home with me, you know?”

He hummed a “yes” in my ear while pulling me closer. “I know.”

“Will it help?”

“Probably not.”

I screwed my eyes shut to stop myself from crying quietly against him. “I love you, Aaron. More than anything in the world. I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You always feel like you have to control everything around you, Y/N, I understand that—in fact, that’s a reason I fell in love with you in the first place. But sometimes you can’t control everything… And when that happens, you just have to admit it and try to move on with your day.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re going to have to try if you’re going to get through this.”

I brought his hands up to my face and kissed his knuckles while thinking about how I couldn’t bear the idea of having to get through anything without him by my side. He was going to be gone for who knew how long. He was going to be who knew where in the Middle East, doing who knew what, risking his life who knew how often. How was I supposed to survive that? How was I supposed to sit around in our home or at the office and do nothing? How was I supposed to trust that he wasn’t going to get himself killed out there? I just didn’t want to think about it anymore. For once, I just wanted to pretend like he wasn’t leaving at all and that I had nothing in the world to worry about.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear. “More than anything in the world.”

A tear slid down my cheek. “I love you, too.”

-----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc @Braty-angel

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut

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moonlit-imagines · 5 years

Text

DCEU Masterlist

(Updated Immediately)

Adrian Chase/Vigilante

Gif Imagines

BFF - Adrian Chase x reader

Reader gives Adrian a matching BFF necklace.

Mask - Adrian Chase x reader

Adrian sees reader wearing the Vigilante mask.

Tackled - Adrian Chase x reader

Adrian tackles reader in order to save their life.

Headcanons

Partners in Crime - Adrian Chase x reader

Adrian and reader are vigilante partners in crime.

Drabbles + Oneshots

First Time For Everything - Adrian Chase x reader

Reader has to take matters into their own hands when Adrian, their boyfriend, can no longer hold his own.

Arthur Curry/Aquaman

Gif Imagines

Axe - Arthur Curry x reader

Arthur is slightly intimidated by reader and their giant axe.

Swimming - Arthur Curry x reader

Arthur takes reader, his s/o, swimming.

Barry Allen/Flash

Gif Imagines

Flashpoint - Barry Allen x Wayne!reader

In Barry’s accidental alternate timeline adventure, he meets reader, a recognizable version of his timeline’s reader. Child of Bruce Wayne and Talia al-Ghūl.

Billy Batson/Shazam

Gif Imagines

Trick or Treat - Billy Batson/Freddy Freeman x reader

Reader, Billy, and Freddy go trick-or-treating.

Headcanons

Older Sibling - Billy Batson x sibling!reader

Reader is Billy’s older sibling.

Drabbles + Oneshots

Superman - Billy Batson x reader

Billy lands in the yard of his best friend, reader, after sustaining serious injuries in battle. (Superman - Five for Fighting)

Zap - Billy Batson x foster sibling!reader

Billy and Freddy return to the foster home late at night, raising suspicion from reader, their foster sibling, because Billy is still in Shazam mode.

Text Messages

Our Plans - Billy Batson x reader

Billy texts reader to ask them on a date.

Bruce Wayne/Batman

Gif Imagines

Clark’s Twin - Bruce Wayne x Kent!reader

Bruce falls in love with reader, Clark Kent’s twin.

Cowl - Bruce Wayne x reader

Reader puts on the Batman cowl against Bruce’s wishes.

Old Recruit - Bruce Wayne x child!reader

Bruce tries to convince reader, his child, to become his sidekick again.

Wayne Gala - Bruce Wayne x child!reader

Reader, Bruce’s child, helps host the Wayne Gala.

Cassandra Cain/Black Bat

Text Messages

Reconnecting - Cassandra Cain x reader

Cassandra and reader make contact again after being separated in the foster system years ago, possibly having feelings for one another.

Christopher Smith/Peacemaker

Gif Imagines

Taser - Christopher Smith x reader

Reader tases Chris after he makes an inappropriate comment.

Cleo Cazo/Ratcatcher II

Gif Imagines

Protect Seb - Cleo Cazo x reader

Cleo asks reader, her teammate, to protect Sebastian the rat.

Son - Cleo Cazo x reader

Cleo and reader introduce their young son to Robert.

Diana Prince/Wonder Woman

Gif Imagines

Coming Out - Diana Prince x bisexual!child!reader

Reader comes out as bisexual to their mother, Diana.

Spar - Diana Prince x reader

Diana and reader have a sparring match.

Headcanons

Child - Diana Prince x child!reader

Reader is Diana’s child being raised in the 80’s.

Drabbles + Oneshots

Single Parent AU - Diana Prince x reader

Reader’s daughter gets lost in a crowd, but Diana comes to the rescue and meets a lovely single parent.

Dinah Lance/Black Canary

Headcanons

Dating - Dinah Lance x fem!reader

Reader and Dinah are dating.

Drabbles + Oneshots

Been a While - Dinah Lance x reader

Reader calls in their ex-girlfriend, Dinah, for help with a serious threat, trying to hide the fact they just got their ass kicked.

Twist and Shout - Dinah Lance x reader

Dinah and reader, her s/o, share a peaceful night in their apartment, watching TV and listening to music together, even dancing. (Twist and Shout - The Beatles)

Emilia Harcourt

Gif Imagines

Barstool - Emilia Harcourt x reader

Reader pushes Peacemaker off his barstool so they can sit next to Harcourt.

Freddy Freeman

Gif Imagines

Trick or Treat - Freddy Freeman/Billy Batson x reader

Reader, Billy, and Freddy go trick-or-treating.

Drabbles + Oneshots

Spare Hugs - Freddy Freeman x foster sibling!reader

Reader struggles in their foster home, doing reckless things and lying while their foster brother, Freddy, worries and looks out for them.

Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn

Gif Imagines

Back at Them - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley shoots someone for reader.

Bad Hair Day - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley offers to fix reader’s hair when it gets damaged during a fight.

Bar Buddies - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley asks reader to be her valentine after her breakup.

Birthday - Harley Quinn x reader

Harkey crashes reader’s birthday party only to find out it’s family only.

BOP - Harley Quinn x reader

The Birds of Prey attempt to recruit reader.

Bruce the Hyena - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley gets jealous of reader when Bruce the hyena takes a liking to them.

Drunk Love - Harley Quinn x reader

Reader tells Harley they love her for the first time while drunk.

Menor-Antlers - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley introduces reader to her holiday traditions.

Suicide Squad - Harley Quinn x Kyle!reader

Reader, Selina Kyle’s daughter, joins the Suicide Squad and surprises her Aunt Harley.

Take a Chance On Me - Harley Quinn x reader

After Harley announces her breakup through the art of destruction, reader tries to win her over.

Tattoo - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley gives reader a tattoo.

Welcome to the Squad - Harley Quinn x sibling!reader

Harley discovers her sibling is apart of the Suicide Squad.

Drabbles + Oneshots

Ain’t It Fun - Harley Quinn x batkid!reader

Reader, a batkid, somewhat snaps and breaks some major laws in the presence of Harley, prompting the clown to recruit them. (Ain’t It Fun - Paramore)

Art Deco - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley’s been admiring reader, a dancer at the Black Mask club, for some time now and finally gets a chance to take them out. (Art Deco - Lana Del Rey)

Ask Me Nicely - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley takes a liking to reader, the teller at the bank she’s robbing, and assures them that all is well between the two.

Clowning Around - Harley Quinn x reader

For Halloween, Harley’s s/o, reader, decides to surprise her by dressing up as, well, Harley.

Echooo - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley meets reader on a night of exploration after wandering into an abandoned building.

Grand Illusion - Harley Quinn x reader

Harley visits the circus and admires the star of the opening act, reader, the magician who can’t keep the clown off their mind. (Grand Illusion - Styx)

Rewrite the Stars - Harley Quinn x reader

Reader, a former Joker henchperson, and Harley break free of his grip and go off on their own, growing closer as Harley confides in them. (Rewrite the Stars - Zac Efron, Zendaya)

Helena Bertinelli/Huntress

Headcanons

Huntress’s protégé - Helena Bertinelli x trainee!reader

Reader is Helena’s protégé and dating Tim Drake.

Mary Bromfield/Mary Marvel

Gif Imagines

College Visit - Mary Bromfield x reader

Reader gets a visit from their girlfriend, Mary, while away at college.

Rick Flag

Gif Imagines

Comfort Mission - Rick Flag x reader

Reader, Rick’s s/o, comforts him after a stressful mission.

Death Notice - Rick Flag x reader

Amanda Waller calls reader, Rick’s s/o, to give them bad new about his recent mission.

Robert Dubois/Bloodsport

Gif Imagines

Dubois Jr. - Robert Dubois x child!reader

Reader, Dubois’ child, is sent to Belle Reve and considered for Task Force X, much to their father’s dismay.

Roman Sionis/Black Mask + Mr. Victor Zsasz

Gif Imagines

Cookies - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

Reader bakes cookies with their adoptive dads, Roman and Vic.

Crime Bosses - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

Reader discovers that their adoptive dads, Roman and Vic, are criminals.

Gunfight - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

Reader, Vic and Roman’s kid, halts a gunfight between them and the Joker.

Meeting Your S/O - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

Roman and Vic, reader’s adoptive dads, meet their s/o.

Drabbles + Oneshots

Dear Theodosia - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

Roman and Vic, reader’s adoptive dads, look forward to the future of their child, especially pertaining to the “family business.” (Dear Theodosia - Hamilton Soundtrack)

You’ll Be Back - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

After discovering the truth about their adoptive dads’ business, reader packs up and leaves their home, leaving one parent doubtful and the other terrified. (You’ll Be Back - Hamilton Soundtrack)

You’ve Got the Wrong Guy! - Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x child!reader

Victor mistakenly kidnaps the wrong kid, which leads him and Roman to adopt reader.

Series

Next of Kin (P) (1) (2) - Birds of Prey x Sionis-Zsasz!reader

Reader is taken care of well by their adoptive dads, Roman and Vic, so revenge was most certainly on the table when the Birds of Prey kill their parents.

Steve Trevor

Gif Imagines

Love Back Home - Steve Trevor x reader

Steve tells Diana about reader, his s/o back at home, while fighting during the War.

#masterlist #dceu

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wincestisasincest · 5 years

Text

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 3: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

“Okay, I said fluff, so here it is. I mean, there’s like hints of sex, but really it’s mostly fluff. I also said more John. Here he is, in all his glory.

I was absolutely fascinated with the concept of our reader being bisexual, so here’s a fic that plays around with it, and since the beatle!reader fandom has been very accepting of that idea, a lot of this will be more taking from head canons, and I will list the ones below that I use, as usual.

Also, as is the drill, credit to @casafrass for everything, though I doubt that you would find my blog if you didn’t already know hers, if that happens to be the case, please check her out. All the head canons are from her blog and its lovely anons.

One more thing, my dumbass finally realized that italics don’t actually appear on the Tumblr mobile app, so in the near future I will re-edit the two previous entries in this series to help out our mobile readers.

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire.

Part: 1, 2, 3

Head canons: Beatle!reader being bi as fuuuuuuck, beatle!reader’s got game, female fans having a fat crush on our bi reader(also this one), beatle!reader stealing all the lad’s girls

Words: 2,747

Pairings: Okay, lowkey there is some John x reader here, though you super duper have to squint and, like always, you can look at it as friendship if you want to, and of course, there’s also groupie x reader

Warnings: S E X, like it’s implied, but they totally did it

“Alright, now, I’d like to move on to a slightly more... promiscuous topic. Y/n, and the audience, I’m sure you’ve heard about what’s become something of a phenomenon in recent years, more and more ‘groupies’, as they were referred to in the day, have been coming out and telling their stories of what their life was like back when rock and roll fan culture was born. Some of them share their thoughts and experiences on certain rock stars of their day, and you have not been excluded from it. We’ll come back to specifics later, but in general, what do you have to say on that?”

“Well, Harold, I think it’s a wonderful thing. Groupies were and still are an important part of the business that we reside in, and honestly, they made as much of a splash in the 60s as some celebrities did. I haven’t really heard any groupies mention me yet, but I suppose all I can hope for is that they were... positive reviews?”

“Indeed. Though, you do seem to have the most, let’s say, gender-equality in yours.”

“Well, it was the 60s. The skirts were getting shorter and shorter, women and men were becoming more expressive, and people just really stopped caring about the bullshit taboos that surround sex and gender. Though I may have been more well-known for it, it really affected all of the musicians that I knew on some level.”

“And how does it reflect in your own life story?”

“Well, I think especially in the early days, it had something of an effect on the fans. I was one of the main reasons why we drew a lot of male fans, but sometime later I discovered that I was also responsible for drawing in a lot of female fans. As time went on, and both our group and our fans got more daring with each other, one thing lead to another, and the next thing you know conservative Christian mothers are telling their daughters to stay away from girls like me, lest they succumb to their own feelings and not their parents need to be accepted.”

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

“...in fact, some people are even comparing the Rolling Stones’ popularity to your own. Can you perhaps, tell us how you feel about that?” Like rats to cheese, the nosy reporters held their microphones and tape recorders up to the table where you and the lads were sitting, trying to comprehend the sea of petty attention that your career had garnered you.

“Well, there’s not really much to say,” John began, “They’re doing well for themselves and we’re doing well for ourselves. That’s really all there is to it, now. It’s not like we’re competing or anything, we’re on rather good terms.”

“Yeah,” Paul interjected, “And, I mean, I can’t speak for them, but all we’re here to do is make music that people will enjoy. If they enjoy us or the Stones, that’s not for us to decide.” That goddamned liar. Even the press had to know that they weren’t being completely genuine at this point, though the point that John and Paul had really been trying to make was clear: we’re not gonna give you what you want so stop asking.

Something chaotic woke up inside you.

“That Mick Jagger is pretty cute, though.” You commented into your own microphone. The crowd laughed, and you smiled, proud of yourself, and getting grunts and mock-angry looks from the lads.

You and the lads knew the truth of course. You and the Stones had a deep respect for each other, and were even close to becoming friends, but that wasn’t how this game was played. You couldn’t give the press anything too positive, or anything too negative. Just answer vaguely, and misdirect. And Paul did totally want people to like their music.

Brian muttered something to John on the side.

“Well, I’m being told that that’s all we can answer for now. Thank you all, and we’ll see you ‘round.”

You five cleared out of the chairs single-file and hustled out one of the side-doors. A small cloud of fans had already gathered, looking for either autographs, or touching or grabbing, or pictures, or just to tell the group that you were going to marry them one day. Brian had already told you that you would have just a few minutes for fans.

“Two girls coming directly for you.” George whispered in your ear, and you spun around to find a redhead and a blonde looking at you eagerly.

“Well, hi, girls! What can I do for you?”

“Oh my goodness, erm, hi y/n! We just wanted too, uh...” the redhead trailed off.

“We just wanted to say that we think you’re really cool, and you’re really pretty, and you’re a really good guitar-player, and um, we wanted to ask you to sign something for us.” They both stuck out a pair of white sneakers, which was admittedly something that you hadn’t been asked to sign before, though you weren’t complaining.

“Aww, well thanks, ladies, and it’s no problem,” You began to pull a sharpie that you always kept with you out of your jacket pocket, “Do you want me to sign both shoes, or just the right one, or...?”

“Um, both, if it’s no problem!” The redhead’s voice squeaked a little.

“Of course, why would it be a problem? Here.” You scrawled your signature on all four sneakers in the efficient manner that you were so used to be now, before looking back up at the girls and giving them a smile. The blonde one was beaming.

“Thanks, y/n, um-” it seemed as though she instantly stopped considering her actions, and in that moment, the blonde leaned in and kissed you right on the cheek.

You had to fight to hold back your blush.

“Aww, thanks girls, enjoy the sneakers, that’s a very stylish look if I do say so myself.”

“Y/n, get a move on!” John called at you as he was retreating from his horde. You could sense the disappointment in the mob that was following the girls, as they were all clearly waiting their turn to see if they could speak to you, but alas, time was too short.

“Wait, y/n, I-” someone behind the girls called.

“But I-” You had to evacuate.

“See you round, girls.” You flashed your million dollar smile before darting off to join John and the rest in your typical, sleek, black car.

Slowly, the mob began to speed up behind you as you were the last, sprinting towards that open door like it would be the last one you’d see in a while. As you reached the open car door, a pair of hands quickly pulled you in and another shut the door. You piled yourself next to George and Ringo, and directly across from John and Paul.

“I see y/n got some action, then.” Ringo poked your cheek. You noticed your reflection in the car window. That blonde had left you with a bright, red lipstick mark where your cheekbones looked their cutest.

“It seems I did.” Your cheeks flared up a little.

“Y/n, haven’t you heard, a marriage is between a man and a woman.” John snickered.

“Come off it, John. It’s not like that.”

“I’m not sure if I believe that, y/n.” Paul was joining in on the teasing, following John’s lead.

“Well, Paul, I don’t believe that I’m the only one of us who finds Mick Jagger attractive.” You shot back. George, Ringo, and yourself were the only ones who found it amusing.

“Very nice move you pulled there, by the way. Distracting them from the Beatles vs Stones debacle to have them writing about the Romeo and Juliet thing that you and Mick have going on. Quite the strategy.” John had put his glasses back on.

“Why should I care? The only newspapers that’ll be writing that are the same ones that say the Queen is actually a man.” You peered out the window, the mob of fans looking much like a collection of dolls now.

“And people read ‘em anyway.” George put his hands behind his head and leaned back in the seat, oddly relaxed.

- time skip because this is a thing that I do now -

The five of you had settled in a gentleman’s club for the evening. The club had a name, you were sure, but you hadn’t really bothered to check, as you were just here for the booze.

Even the lads weren’t really sure why we were here, but apparently, success had made us a part of the upper class, and this is what upper class people do. You’d think they would get a hobby or something.

You took a long sip of your Proseco, and through the liquid you could see a blurred scene of all of the lads’ attention suddenly grabbed by something to the left. You set the glass down.

John wolf-whistled.

A tall, slender brunette stalked up to the table. She was wearing a long, green velvet dress with a slit that allowed her right leg to creep out, while at the same time perfectly hugging her curves. Her lips were pursed, but still full, and her eyes had the longest lashes that you had ever seen.

“I thought I smelled a rat.” Her voice was like chocolate, both sweet and luscious.

“Awwww, c’mon love, don’t be like that, have a seat.” John slid a little to the side and patted the vacancy next to him.

You took a drag out of your cigarette and made eye contact with her. Green, just like her dress.

“Johnny here forgot that you introduce yourself before sexually harassing someone.” She half-smirked, half-smiled, and you felt pride, of all things, so much that you didn’t notice John’s side-eye.

“Well, if he’s John, then that must make you Paul,” her manicured nails were parallel with Paul’s chin, “George”, parallel with his mouth, “Ringo”, parallel with his nose, “and (y/n)”, directly down the center of your eyes, as if she was aiming to kill.

“Well, now that we’re all familiar, I don’t think you’ll mind joining us for a drink.” John called the waiter over as she took a seat.

“I wouldn’t say entirely familiar, for I haven’t the pleasure of knowing your name.” You swished your drink around in your glass. Paul, George, and Ringo pretended to be caught in a different conversation while you two chatted, though you knew full well that John wasn’t the only one with side-eye.

“I don’t know, I’m not supposed to give that out to strangers.”

“But you know ours. It’s only fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war, dear. I’ll take a sweet Vermouth on the rocks with a twist.” The waiter must’ve always been there, because you did not see him show up.

“Well, now that that’s settled, tell me about yourself.” John put an arm around her shoulder, which just didn’t seem to match with her perfect, clear, skin.

This would be a long night.

- time skiiiiiiiiiiiip for the hot brunette, also if you don’t find the type of person i described hot, imagine her as anything you like, you’re the reader after all-

The tango that you and John were dancing for this brunette’s attention was certainly not the most graceful. You only felt satisfied when her gaze was back on you, and preferably when she was smiling. Something about her, if you will, made you want more and more of her. Know everything about her. John wanted the same thing, and for once, he wasn’t going to get it.

“Well, I must go powder my nose, but I’ll be back shortly.”

“Better keep to that, or I might have to go looking for you.” John and you watched her leave, the clacking of her heels on the hardwood floor slowly faded out as she disappeared into the hallway.

Oh, yes, you’d forgotten about the rest of the world. George, Paul, and Ringo had already disappeared with intentions of partying at some of the more lively places.

“Alright, (y/n), what are we going to do about this?” John’s eyes weren’t like hers.

“About what?”

“Oh, don’t act all innocent. You’re the only thing getting in between me and the best bird in town.”

“What if I enjoy her conversation? I have just as much of a right to that as you. There are thousands of girls who would sleep with you, and none of them are as engaging conversationalists.”

“What the hell are you on about? I don’t bloody care about conversation, I want her.”

“If you think that making me angry is going to convince me, then you don’t know me half as well as you think you do. Not all of us are here to fuck, John.”

“Concerning that, I suggest that you go find someone to sleep with to take your mind off of things. You’re not winning this.”

“Let’s just see who the lady picks, John. Waiter, excuse me, some whiskey please.”

The lady picked someone else, you guessed. After 20 minutes of waiting, she hadn’t returned, and though John would never admit it, his mood and confidence was not nearly as high as he would’ve liked. Your whiskey bottle was completely empty.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you offered as John stared into his drink, “I lost too. There are other birdies in the sky, y’know.” Normally, John would’ve been angry, but after he’d passed a certain drink threshold, he became sad drunk rather than angry drunk.

“Yeah, you’re right, (y/n).”

“But you should know I’m not going to-”

“Don’t waste your breath. I’m not apologizing either.”

“I guess Paul is right. We are both assholes.”

John chuckled, before ruffling your hair.

“Wanna head back to the hotel, birdie?”

“I think I will, but the night is still young, John, I’m sure you can find someone else. That girl over there in the black has been starting at you all evening.”

“Yes. I’ve noticed. Well, I’ll see you, (y/n).” John sauntered over to the bar counter, and you gathered your purse before exiting down the hallway.

You felt morose, though you really couldn’t tell why. It was just a conversation, and surely not the most interesting ones that you would ever have. Hell, you hadn’t even known her name.

“Took you long enough, (n/n).”

There she was, leaning against the wall voyeuristically, her fingers laced around a cigarette holder. You could’ve sworn the smoke was in your eyes.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I think you know.”

“Would you like to, um, continue our conversation back at my hotel?” You never said ‘um’, what was going on?

“That would be agreeable.” Her heels clacked closer to you, and she put her hand on your shoulder.

Oh. That’s what that feeling was.

- Last time skip maybe -

You made your way downstairs, wearing clothes that were way more comfortable that whatever fancy thing you had put on last night. Your feet were still sore from the heels.

You pushed open the door to the conference room, breakfast already laid out, with the rest of the band and Brian already munching.

“(Y/n), at last, you’ve decided to join us.” Brian really did not feel like not being sarcastic this morning.

“Sorry, I slept in.”

“What’s new?” The lads snickered.

“Busy last night, hm?” Paul’s eyebrows flickered.

“Well, weren’t we all?” You sipped your orange juice.

“Not Johnny ‘ere.” Ringo’s head was resting on his hand, amusedly staring at John.

“Look, I would’ve, if she didn’t get offended so damn easily.” John really wasn’t in the mood, which was, of course, reason to tease him more.

“She slapped ‘im. Across the face. While wearing a ring.” George was on his fifth piece of toast.

“That first bird wasn’t married. ‘Other birdies in the sky’ my arse’.” He gave you a look.

“Oh yea, whatever happened to her?” Paul was all here for this drama.

“Left, without even telling us ‘er name. Bi-”

“Her name was Carla, John.” You cut him off. You loved John, but man had you had enough of his bullshit.

Paul had already put the whole thing together, a look of half-shock, half-waiting for John’s reaction, which at the moment was just puzzled. George nudged Ringo and whispered something. You smiled, and got up from the table to refill your plate.

John’s sharp voice cut through the room: “Wait a minute!”

#beatle!reader #beatles #the beatles #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #60s #classic rock #madam beatle

96 notes · View notes

rawiswhore · 5 years

Text

Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- “Grind With Me”

This fanfic is every woman’s sexual fantasy.

Also, I’m going to be honest...I haven’t watched a lot of the WWE, or even pro wrestling in general.

But I do know the names of a lot of wrestling companies, what they’re about, know the names of wrestlers, what they look like, even what their entrance music sounds like and blah blah blah.

So that’s why I didn’t mention Jim Ross on commentary in this fanfic, because I’m new to the WWE.

________________________________________________________________

The year is 2003.

The former WWF is now known as the WWE, all thanks to the World Wildlife Foundation.

And Shawn Michaels, after having a huge career throughout the 90′s, has now finally made a comeback that year, or at least, the year before.

He’s ditched that hideous mullet he had in 1995, although dammit, he’s still wearing those tacky outfits he wore in the 90′s. No offence, Shawn, but let’s be honest.

And he’s now a born again Christian. Drat.

On a more positive note, in your opinion, he’s sexier than ever. And pushing 40.

What his gimmick was during the majority of the 90′s was basically a male stripper.

You had an idea, a creative idea at that.

You rehearsed this with Shawn since wrestling is staged and scripted.

You were sitting in a chair in the ring.

The crowd was comprised of bookoos of males: grown men, old men, teenage boys, a few prepubescent boys.

And quite a bit of women.

The women are going to love this. Oh yeah, they’ll love it.

You and the audience heard that drum beat and those infamous 3 female moans in his entrance song.

You and the audience immediately recognized those moans.

Just before you could hear Shawn in that gravely voice sing “I think I’m cute, I know I’m sexy”, the audience went absolutely nuts, especially the women, their “pops” (the crowd reaction during a wrestling show) were loud enough to make your ears bleed, and probably loud enough to make their own ears bleed.

Shawn suddenly appeared himself on stage, which made the audience go insane even more.

You had a wide, ear to ear smile engulfing your face.

You couldn’t help but laugh seeing him, your hand was raised to your mouth trying to hide your laughter.

Shawn was dressed in a white wife beater tank top and slightly baggy bluejeans, his hair was long and brown.

Not exactly the sexiest outfit someone could wear, especially for what you had planned that night.

He looked like he was here to fix your cable, or rather, not really, ifyknowwhat imean.

He began strutting himself down that little catwalk, some of the audience was actually even singing along to the lyrics, some of it was so loud, you couldn’t even hear his own voice singing.

When he reached the ring, he crawled into the ring and strutted himself up to you.

He then began gyrating his hips slowly on your lap, which made the women in the audience go absolutely insane.

They’re probably all jealous of you right now.

You couldn’t help but break out into laughter over him gyrating on your lap.

“Shouldn’t she be the one lapdancing him?” Jerry Lawler cried out.

That’s for another time.

He then gripped his hands on the collar of his shirt and stretched his shirt out, ripping his shirt in half like Hulk Hogan used to do in the 80′s.

He then turned his body around, so the audience could see him ripping his shirt open and get a good view of his chest.

The women in the audience squealed and hollered over this, many of them whistling to him.

“He’s ripping his shirt off!” Jerry Lawler cried. “Is he possessed by Hulk Hogan or something?”

You chuckled at Jerry Lawler’s Hulk Hogan comment, covering your mouth up with your hand, hiding your laugh.

Even Shawn Michaels was trying not to laugh.

He then faced his torso towards your face and torso and ripped the shirt all the way down to the bottom, where he then shook his shirt off of his shoulders, letting his shirt drop to the ring’s floor.

He put his hands on your shoulders and still continued grinding his hips until he straddled your lap, his legs spread wide open on your lap like he was riding a horse.

You could nearly reach into your pocket for your wallet and give him a dollar.

He gyrated his ass on your lap, his hips rolling to the beat of his entrance song, his entrance music was still playing while he was lapdancing you.

He is a born again Christian, right?

He then reached his hands to his belt buckle and slid his belt out of the buckle, sliding his belt off of his waist, out of those holes the belt was filling them up with.

“Uh oh, is he gonna take his pants off?” Jerry Lawler exclaimed.

The audience was getting an even bigger uproar from this.

Once his belt was off of his hips and not tied around his pants, he tossed the belt away, letting it plop on the ring’s floor.

He then turned his body around, his back facing your chest and torso, and started nudging and grinding his ass against your crotch.

Your face was turning pink at the excitement.

You were still laughing over him grinding his ass against your pussy.

He then put his hands to his jeans and unbuttoned his jeans

“He’s unbuttoning his jeans, is he gonna take it all off?” Jerry exclaimed excitedly.

The women in the audience were screaming and squealing their heads off like those teenage female Beatles fans in 1964.

His fingers reached his zipper and slid his zipper all the way down until it reached the bottom, exposing his grey boxer shorts.

He then gripped onto both sides of his jeans, where he slightly pulled them down a bit to reveal his boxer shorts.

“Is he gonna get completely naked?” Jerry Lawler cried out. “Those are the same boxers he wore when he played strip poker in 1997!”

The women in the audience were suddenly the ones in the audience screaming, not the men, but of course!

Then again, there’s probably some gay and bisexual men screaming in the audience.

Your eyes searched in the audience to see if there were any men in the audience screaming.

There actually were a few men in the audience screaming, but it was mostly all women screaming, even though 90% of the audience was filled with men.

Heh.

Suddenly, his entrance music faded out.

That marked the end of his lapdance.

You had something you wanted to say, an announcement for the whole world to say.

No, you weren’t pregnant, though you may as well be since you’ve fucked Shawn before.

You weren’t engaged to Shawn.

You pulled your microphone out of your pocket.

“Is she pulling out a microphone?” Jerry exclaimed. “Shouldn’t she be pulling out her wallet to give him a dollar?”

Shawn then got off of your lap and you stood up, not sitting in that chair anymore.

“I need to say this, for everyone out there” you exclaimed.

“What’s she gonna say?” Jerry exclaimed. “Is she pregnant? Engaged? Leaving the WWE?”

“No, I’m not pregnant. I’m not engaged. I’m not leaving the WWE” you said seriously. “But, on behalf of Stacy Keibler giving Scott Steiner a lapdance, why don’t we have male wrestlers giving divas lapdances?”

The women in the audience were cheering and applauding you loudly, whereas the men in the audience started booing the hell out of you.

“And, I’m not finished!” you exclaimed, pointing one finger in the air. “On behalf of Triple H getting his clothes ripped off by Scott Steiner, why can’t we have the male equivalent to ‘bra and panties’ matches, where men are ripping other men’s clothes off until they’re just down to their underwear? Why can’t we have men wrestling each other in inflatable pools of pudding and gravy and what have you?”

The women in the audience were cheering loudly and going insane over you saying this, but the men were booing you.

The audience was a mixed reaction of boos and cheers.

“Fair is fair!” you exclaimed.

Shawn then grabbed the microphone from your hands.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too!” he exclaimed.

The men in the audience cheered Shawn’s side, though I bet 90% of the audience doesn’t know what that idiom even means.

“Wrestling already has muscular, sweaty, oiled up, shirtless men in Speedos and tights groping and hugging each other, why do we need a male bra and panties match?” he asked.

You then yanked the microphone from his hand and said “Touche, Shawn, touche! But fair is fair!”

The men were booing you while the women were cheering you.

“This has taken an interesting turn!” Jerry Lawler exclaimed.

Shawn then grabbed the microphone you were holding.

“I give you a lapdance and THIS is how you reward me?” Shawn exclaimed.

The men in the audience were on Shawn’s side, yelling their lungs out, praising the hell out of him.

#shawn michaels #shawn michaels x fem reader #wwe #fanfiction

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undead-supernova · 2 months

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Follow the Fever Dream

Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

Masterlist

plot: let's go back to the beginning again, where promises can't be made but are waiting to be kept - inspired by "I Think He Knows" and "Cruel Summer" (with a sprinkle of "The Archer")

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: family death mention, "diet" mention, failed relationships, smoking

easter egg count: 24

wc: 7.1k

Early May, 2024

There was always something so comforting about the sound of a stadium filling with people. The excited squeals, the chants. The hum of thousands of people all trying to get to their seats. It was something that lured you into the world of performance. It was like church, the way that strangers came together for this very special moment in time. Even if the setlist stayed the same, each concert was unique.

And you were running late.

In your humble defense, you had tried to catch an earlier flight to Indianapolis. But when you magically received a text from Jeff with a link to two backstage passes to see them perform, it had been nearly midnight. Two days before. You had to beg Clara to let you go, promising you’d get back on a plane the next afternoon to make it to the next stop of your tour in Arizona.

You knew it was risky, showing up here.

Corroded Coffin seemed so far from your wheelhouse, a departure from the box the world put you in. Any passing glance at the certified “Pop Princess” could wind up with you on E! News’ stupid fucking Instagram page.

And, for the life of you, you were not dressed like everyone else.

You’d opted for a cream-colored graphic tee with The Beatles on it (just to mildly piss Eddie off) paired with dark jeans and a pair of platform heels. It wasn’t much, but then again you didn’t really have much on you in terms of nice outfits outside of your stage costumes. Your main goal on tour was to be as lazy as possible in between shows. And, well, now that had flown out the window.

Scott had helped you navigate the back hallways of Lucas Oil Stadium. He usually never asked questions about the decisions you made. Rarely questioned your judgment on anything. He was good like that, trusting that you always made the right choices for yourself. And though he said nothing now, you could tell he was curious.

In the last, what, five years, you’d never once strayed from the schedule. You were on the bus, on the plane, hours before anyone showed up. Before shows, you were reading a book an hour before your opening act went on.

Makeup? Done. Hair? Done. Costume? Done.

But here you were, steering off course to attend a concert based off the text of someone you met once. So you could go see the guy you slept with. Once. Who you hadn’t spoken to at all in the last two weeks. Because you hadn’t thought to exchange numbers.

You were surprised not to find the band backstage, instead being surrounded by busy crew members making sure everything was running smoothly. None of them even gave you a second glance. Guess no one here was phased by a celebrity. Thank God.

But there, inching towards the curtain, were four people. Three guys and one girl. You didn’t realize you were walking up to a crowd of…high schoolers? Fans, perhaps? On the bright side, at least you weren’t sticking out like a sore thumb. None of them were dressed like the people in the crowd.

But there you were, too terrified to approach, nearly overwhelmed with anxiety as you awkwardly stood next to Scott. It didn’t help that you’d missed the entire opening act.

Attempting to glance out at the stage, you watched a few crew members finishing up with markers and mic stand heights. Fine tuning the drums one last time.

“Move over, Dustin,” the redhead huffed, bringing your attention back.

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin responded, shaking out his soft brown curls that suspiciously looked a lot like a certain man you knew. “I want to actually be able to see him.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

He huffed. “I’m not a baby, Max! Where’s Steve anyways?”

A kid standing next to Max smiled. “Probably making out with Nancy.” Him and Max immediately started making kissing noises.

“Gross!” Dustin exclaimed. “Cut it out. You’re as bad as Mike and El.”

“Shut up, Dustin,” the one you presumed to be Mike said. “You’re just jealous ‘cause you don’t get to see Suzie for another three months.”

“Oh, hello,” another voice said behind you, startling you beyond belief.

You turned, confused when you saw a very attractive guy much closer to your age approaching with two girls in tow.

And it took less than five seconds for the chaos to ensue.

“Holy shit, you’re—”

You whipped your head around to stare at the kids who were coming closer. On instinct, Scott stepped toward you.

“What the hell are you doing at a Corroded Coffin concert?” Mike asked.

The boy next to Max pointed at you. “No, seriously, you’re—”

“Shut up, Lucas,” she scolded, pulling his hand down. “She’s just a person. You are ridiculous.”

“Uh, hi,” you said finally, feeling your face grow hot. “Yeah, hi.”

The guy behind you got closer, holding his hands up in caution. “Sorry, none of these idiots know what manners look like.”

You took in his appearance, a yellow sweatshirt thrown over a pair of jeans. A particularly nice watch on his wrist. Voluminous honey hair and dark eyes that seemed to soften in the bright stage lights.

The girl next to him extended her hand, all pretty in light blue and white. “We’re friends of Eddie’s,” she explained. You shook her hand. “I’m Nancy. This is my boyfriend, Steve. And this is Robin, she’s a close friend.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you replied. “Wait, Eddie’s friends?”

Robin nodded, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts. “Yep, have been since right before we graduated high school. Love your music, by the way.”

Before you could respond, Nancy asked, “How do you know Eddie?”

You couldn’t help but cross your hands over your chest, hands resting on your elbows. Everyone was still gawking at you. Well, except for Max who was doing her best to keep the other kids from staring. You appreciated it even if it wasn’t working.

“Um,” you attempted before clearing your throat. “Yeah, we met back at the Grammy’s a few weeks ago. Jeff invited me, actually. But, yeah. Eddie and I are friends.”

Each person held different expressions, mostly dumbfounded. Was it really that weird for two celebrities to get to know each other? Even if you were in separate genres? Did you really not fit in?

But Max merely nodded at you, taking your arm while saying, “Here, come up here. You can see the stage better from here.”

Face growing hot again, you nodded back and situated yourself (and Scott) between her and Mike.

“So you’re not together?” Max asked, looking up at you.

“Um, I don’t think so,” you said truthfully.

She raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed. The crowd started going absolutely haywire, and you couldn’t stop yourself from clapping. (Oh and shoving some earplugs in to save yourself some hearing damage.)

A hum sounded as a smoke machine began to kick up. The screens surrounding the stage started showing images, flashing over one another as a voice that sounded suspiciously like Eddie Munson started whispering in Latin.

From the opposite wing, you saw Ronnie, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant head to their places, fixing their ear-ins. It was clear the crowd hadn’t seen them yet, as entranced by the opening sequence as you were.

“You try to run, but they’re catching up.”

The video glitched, showing all the members running through a forest. They were clothed in medieval clothing, all dark and stormy. Intense makeup and headpieces.

“What will you do?”

Behind them, you could see dark figures sprinting, catching up before a horde barreled towards them from the front.

“Do you believe you have a chance?”

All four of them looked scared, surrounded in a circle as the camera panned around each face. One by one, they pulled out weapons and shields.

“They’re trying to control you!” the voice screeched. “They are corruption. They are filth.”

The camera panned up, showing an animated drawing of Eddie as a red demon from above the clouds layered on top of the real footage of the sky. His mouth moved along to the words, his face contorting into an evil grin.

“Only I can lead you to victory.”

And then you saw Eddie slowly rising from underneath the stage. Your heart started hammering in your chest.

“And who am I?” the voice concluded. “Your humble dungeon master.”

The crowd went berserk as the lights illuminated the five figures. Eddie jumped up, laughing as he headed straight into the opening solo for “Humble Dungeon Master.”

“Ah!” Dustin yelped. “Shit, this is my favorite song!”

Eddie was in a beat-up baseball tee with a faded image of a devil and some other objects around it. You barely made out the name Hellfire Club before he was moving further away, getting as close as he could to the crowd.

There’s something about watching Eddie move, swinging his guitar around and falling to his knees on the stage as he played. And you’d be lying if you didn’t find it extremely, extremely hot.

As the final chords sounded, you watched in amazement as everyone in the stands lost their shit. And they weren’t the only ones. Every single person standing with you was going just as wild.

Eddie, with his bangs already drenched in sweat, paused to grab a swig of water before he shouted, “GOOD EVENING!” A roar of applause and hollering ensued. “Tonight is a very special night, Indianapolis,” Eddie added, dramatically lowering his voice. “Do you know why?”

The entire stadium lost their shit again, causing Eddie to look back at the rest of the band. They were just as happy as him, beaming with pride and laughter.

“That’s fucking right! This is our home state, and, by proxy, you are our home. I don’t want to see a single fucking person not having a good time, alright? Jump in the pit, shred your vocal cords, whatever the fuck you need to do. Just promise us you’ll go as hard as you possibly can. And stay safe, of course. Can you do that, Indianapolis?”

The crowd’s reaction was deafening, even with your earplugs. You still heard every note, every breath.

“Let’s go!” Eddie yelled before starting the opening riff to “Fire Shroud”.

You mouthed along to the words, bopping your head along. It seemed comical, the way all eight of you were moving the same way to the beat. For a moment, you forgot your fame. You forgot that you were a well-known stranger to these people. You forgot your place in this world.

And it was then that you caught Jeff’s eyes, watching a grin spread on his face. You returned it with a thumbs-up and watched as he got Grant and Gareth’s attention before nodding over at you.

For a moment, you really felt part of something special.

Before you could process what was happening, Ronnie delved into a solo of her own. She earned a reaction unlike any other, the stadium booming with something resembling electricity. Eddie then came in, his picking following her beat perfectly. And then Jeff and Gareth came in, followed by Grant.

“Challenger” was one of your favorites. You couldn’t help but take a few steps forward, past the kids. Clasping your hands, you rested them against your chest.

Because the realization had hit you. They hadn’t stopped playing. They had just transitioned into the next song.

And it was incredible, the way the mosh pit opened wider than you’d ever seen before. A hurricane created by hordes of people, all stomping. All singing. All laughing. Helping people up, keeping everyone safe. You saw nothing but happy faces. Happy people.

You were hypnotized.

Well, until your trance was broken by a crew member telling you to stay back. You quickly complied, ending up between Max and Lucas. Scott was already right there next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

After another song, Eddie gestured for everyone to settle down before clearing his throat.

“Hey, I really wanna thank all our friends from our shitty little hometown who came out tonight,” he said, nearly out of breath. He turned to look at the group, waving. “Hey guys! Yeah, it’s really kind of them to come support—” He paused as his eyes finally found you there.

Time seemingly stopped existing.

It was the way you connected then, the world disappearing. The stage, the people. There was only you, him, and the harsh breaths leaving both of your mouths. A gleam sitting right there in his eyes, mirroring yours.

You found yourself grinning as you noticed his eyes widen.

“Um,” he tried to continue. “That-that they came to support me and the rest of our incredible band.”

You gave him a quick wave.

He waved back at you dumbly, a nervous laugh leaving his lips. The crowd continued to applaud, blissfully unaware of what was happening.

But you did.

And he was standing there in front of nearly seventy-thousand people, tongue-tied beyond belief because of you. Jesus Christ, he was making you dizzier by the minute.

“This next one’s for you guys.”

Quickly, Eddie collected himself, giving you a smirk before he took the neck of his guitar and looked back at the crowd.

“You sure you ain’t dating?”

You turned to look at Scott, a bewildered expression on your face. He only chuckled at you, nearly giggling before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the performance.

He was only teasing you. And yet, it started a fire in your mind. No, it set you on fire. Who was this man to affect you the way he did? What business did he have to pull you towards him, an invisible string of rope tethering you together?

And why was it working?

Slowly, you turned your head back to watch Eddie.

As they ran offstage (after a stellar encore), you watched Eddie greet his friends, all sweaty and giddy. Play-wrestled with Dustin and roughhoused both Mike and Lucas. Exchanged a special handshake with Max. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were next, earning the highest of praises and chuckling at some joke Robin made.

You hung back, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. After all, you were just a guest. Practically a stranger to Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin. And you never felt it more than when you watched Ronnie Ecker walk right past you, even when you’d offered a greeting.

Drenched in sweat with dark clothes and an even darker expression on her face. Despite the overwhelming excitement Jeff, Grant, and Gareth had shown you, Ronnie seemed far from it. It was as if you were invisible to her despite meeting her two weeks ago. She’d even complimented you. Made you feel elated. Nearly gave her stamp of approval.

Yet there she was, just walking away. Like you were just a ghost, a transparent figure that was too inconvenient for her to acknowledge.

But when you turned back to the group, you noticed Eddie’s eyes shift to you.

And the fear was swept away.

He skipped, literally skipped, over to you, grabbing onto your elbows and shaking you.

“What the hell are you doing here!” he exclaimed. You giggled as he jostled you around. “I didn’t know you were in town. How’d you even get back here?”

“I have my ways,” you replied with a smirk, not-so-subtly looking over at Jeff.

Eddie followed your eyes, nearly gawking at the man. But Jeff said nothing, chuckling to himself as he handed Eddie a towel and walked off.

When Eddie turned his attention back to you, his excitement bubbled over, tilting his head towards the ceiling. “Aghhhh!”

And his energy was rubbing off on you, a permanent smile on your face. He was genuinely happy to see you, wasn’t he?

You laughed before mimicking him. “Aghhhh!”

You stared at each other, faces lit up like goddamn Christmas lights.

“But seriously! Why’re you here?”

“Just seeing you, actually,” you admitted. “I guess I didn’t mention that I’m also on tour right now.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s right. Uh, how long are you here?” he asked, suddenly shy as he came down from his high. He removed his hands as he continued to blot himself with his towel. “‘Cause I’m, like, hanging out with my friends for the next few days and if you wanted, you could come along.”

The mere idea of Eddie wanting you to hang out with him and his friends after only seeing each other once was making your head spin. He really meant that?

“I would love to, but I’m only here until tomorrow afternoon.”

His face fell. “Oh, fuck. Okay. Are you, uh, staying anywhere? ‘Cause, you know, if you wanted. Um. I, uh,” he stumbled, continuing to wipe sweat off his neck as if his hair wouldn’t just drench it again. “You know, I’ve got the bus, but I share it with the guys and Ronnie. And, well, we could hang with them. If you wanted. But only if you—”

“You can come stay with me,” you interrupted, stifling a giggle at his flustered ramblings. “I’ve got a hotel room a couple blocks over.”

“Just us?” he questioned, a goofy grin reaching his lips.

Nodding, you felt your heart stammering in your chest. You were really doing this, weren't you?

“Yeah, just us.”

When you entered the hotel lobby, Eddie headed straight down the hall towards the vending machines. With you in tow, he kept a hand on your back as if he didn’t want you to feel left out of his plans. As if he wanted you there. As if he cared.

One after the other, he swiped his card as the machine buzzed and whined. The candy and bags of chips fell slowly, giving you a chance to stare at him. He was a vision to behold in the glow of the vending machines, his bangs nearly dry from his post-stage shower and dark eyes more concentrated than you’d seen them before.

“You could’ve ordered room service, you know,” you said, finally breaking the silence.

“I like to get my own,” he explained. “Makes me feel more like a person.” You nodded, unable to judge. Sometimes you felt the same way. “Want anything?”

You couldn’t help but nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse. “Yeah, I can get my own, though—”

Eddie placed his hand over yours. “No, sweetheart, it’s alright. You came all the way out here. Least I can do is buy you a candy bar.” As the words left his lips, your stomach growled. “Have you eaten anything?”

You shook your head, feeling sheepish. “Uh, no. I’m, like, on this diet for tour. I think I’d be nearly eviscerated if my personal trainer knew I was about to eat junk food.”

“What diet?” he asked.

Your eyes tried to find anywhere else to look, but you were trapped under his gaze. God, how the fuck did he do this to you?

“I basically don’t have any sugar which is the absolute worst. Berries, vegetables. Nuts even though I fucking hate it. Egg whites, never just eggs. Salads. And I, like, load up on protein before a show but she kinda encouraged me to do intermittent fasting when I can. So, I do that whenever I’m not performing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Inter-what fasting?”

You could feel the heat reaching your face, embarrassment flooding your system. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to hide your stomach. “Intermittent fasting. It’s, like, fasting off and on between meals or days. Like, go one day where you’re not eating much while the next day you load up on food.”

Eddie looked away for a moment, as if he was trying to process the information before cocking an eyebrow at you. “So that’s just, like, starving yourself with a fancier name.”

That caused you to let out a nervous laugh, feeling the desire to hide from him. It wasn’t like he was wrong, and that’s what made it worse.

“Sorry but fuck that.”

Shrugging, you stated, “Just the life of a female popstar. What can I say?”

Eddie gave you a glance, one that felt like exposure. Felt like he knew exactly what you were saying. Felt like he was seeing through the barriers you were trying to put up. But he immediately replaced it with a slight smile and a bump to your shoulder.

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

After you told him what you wanted, you stated, “You’re friends with a bunch of high schoolers.”

His eyes flickered over at you, leaned up against the wall with your arms still crossed.

“Does it help that they graduate in t-minus two days?”

“Maybe,” you said, all amused and teasing.

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike were in my Dungeons and Dragons club,” he explained. “Max just kinda fell in there. So did Lucas’ sister, Erica, but she still has an early curfew, so.”

“So, you’re like a big brother?” you assumed.

“Something like that.” Eddie shrugged before straightening up. Definitely tried not to seem insecure as he moved his foot back and forth. “Why? Is that a turn off?”

You kicked his foot with yours. “No, I think it’s cute.”

And he was right back to himself, relaxing. “Cute, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip.

As he started handing you your half of the junk food, he asked, “Wanna see how cute I can be?”

Just like that, your heart was speeding again.

Nearly squirming in your jeans, you nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie stepped a little closer, nose brushing your forehead as he gave a swift kiss. You couldn’t help but shiver, feeling his lips move down towards your ear.

“I gotta get you out of that Beatles shirt first,” he teased.

It only made the wetness pooling in your underwear even worse. You backed away from him, shaking your head at the devilish grin forming on his face.

“I’ll lead the way.”

“Tell me something true,” Eddie whispered, pulling the white duvet further up his chest.

You instinctively did the same, readjusting your head on the pillow. After having sex with Eddie that was more than just cute, you’d resigned to lying in the dark. Heads resting on pillows, facing each other. Finally bitten by the chill of the A/C after the overwhelming heat had consumed your flesh.

And there was just something about making eye contact with him that kept you there. Unable to move. Unable to run away. Unable to remove the mark he was ultimately starting to make on you.

Because you thought about his question, the way it drew you closer to revealing secrets that no one else knew. Not even your previous exes. There was just something about him, something about how you felt.

“I had someone coach my Southern accent out of me,” you admitted.

“Why?”

“So people would take me seriously. People think that if you’re from the South, you’re an idiot.” Eddie looked a little sad, but you tried to shrug it off. “I have one sometimes, but that’s usually when I’m really, really upset and can’t, like, turn it off.”

“There goes my next question.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, reaching over to brush his curls behind his ear. “Trust me, it’s embarrassing. You’d cringe immediately.”

“I highly doubt that,” he whispered, taking your wandering fingers in his and squeezing slightly. “I think all of you is amazing.”

His words melted you instantly, having to close your eyes for a moment to really take it in. Were you really this smitten?

“What about you?” you asked. “Something true.”

“My mom died when I was young,” he said without hesitation. Your eyes widened. “And then my dad went to jail for some bullshit. Got killed after he got out.”

His words struck you somewhere deep inside, in a cavern that you didn’t realize existed. It was like you felt the weight of his grief radiating off him. It was a kind of heaviness that you weren’t sure you’d experienced before.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No, I, uh.” He shook his head. “My uncle, Wayne, was the only one who stepped in to help me. We lived in a trailer park and everything.”

“Why wasn’t he here tonight?”

“He passed away about a year and a half after we got big.” The ache only got worse. “I’d finally got him away from working his ass off and bought him a house. He was so excited about living in a house, you know? Not so close to other people. A stocked fridge. But he started getting sick, like really sick, and he just…didn’t wake up one day.”

“Eddie,” you whispered.

But he just gave you a sad smile. “I kept the house I bought him, you know. I keep it exactly how it was when he was alive. Makes it a little easier sometimes.”

“That’s awful,” you said, wiping a tear rushing down his nose and over his trembling lips. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sniffling before he laughed at himself. “I guess you’re not getting the best me, huh?”

You ignored the self-inflicted jab. “What is something you loved about Wayne?”

His eyes widened for a moment before they softened. “Oh, uh.” Eyes began to glaze over, clearly lost in some memory. “He had this mug collection. So ridiculous. Every time he made it to a show, he got a new one at the airport. Eventually, I just started adding mugs to our merch line to keep him from going crazy. But he had this Garfield mug that was my favorite.”

“Garfield?” you questioned, chuckling.

A hearty laugh left his lips, the sound sending your heart into a flurry.

“The one and only.” His smile brought yours back. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“I love it,” you whispered, moving your hand back to his hair. Taking him in. Drawing him back into you as if you’d lose him the moment the morning came. But for now, he was all yours. You were all his. And as much as it was starting to unnerve you, you knew that there was still an unspoken acknowledgement about what this was.

It wasn’t a promise.

Just a mere possibility of one.

And you’d never admit it, but a part of you hoped he’d never leave.

Mid May, 2024

Knock, knock.

“Yeah?” you asked, adding one last swipe of red lipstick.

It was Scott who opened the door, already fit with a hesitant expression. “Hey, hun,” he started. “You’ve got a visitor outside.”

“Who?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Corroded Coffin himself.”

This struck you as odd. It’d only been, what, five days since you saw him in Indiana? And now he was miraculously here, trying to see you before your set started?

“He’s here?”

“Mhm.”

“Right now?”

“Yep, and he wants to come in.”

“Okay, yeah,” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling up. “Let him in.”

Scott gave you a glance, his lips seemingly vanishing underneath his mustache. It was a look of caution, of protection. “You sure, honey?”

You rapidly nodded. “Scout’s honor!”

After a quick nod, he disappeared.

And without a beat, Eddie was taking a comical side-step, standing straight and tall at the frame of the door. He was clad in a Rolling Stones t-shirt covered with his signature leather jacket and black jeans. All chains and boots and Eddie.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said before pulling a bouquet of pink roses from behind his back.

You looked down at the beautiful floral arrangement, heat flooding your cheeks. He’d gotten you flowers?

“My god,” he added. Your eyes went back up to his face, watching his dark irises wandering down your body. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You looked down at your baby blue bodysuit, dripping in glitter and sequins. A sweetheart bust, sinching at your waist. A set of tights underneath white thigh-high socks held up by a garter belt. A pair of white block heels.

“Oh, thanks,” you whispered.

And, yeah, you already knew you looked fucking fantastic. You chose the outfit. But the way Eddie was looking at you now, marveling you, it filled you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Clearing your throat, you took the flowers from him. “What’re you doing here?”

He moved past you into the room, taking in the space as he turned back to meet your eyes. “Embarrassing myself to try and see you,” he said, giving you a sheepish expression. “Have you ever tried the whole ‘Do you know who I am’ thing on people? Trust me, it’s as humiliating as it sounds.”

A chuckle left your lips. “You could’ve told me! I would’ve gotten you a pass.”

“But it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, going back to your chair by the vanity. Eddie sat down on the edge of the dirty green couch across from you. Laid his head on the armrest like a dog, looking up at you from under those pretty bangs and even prettier lashes of his.

“Is this some kind of Romeo complex?” you teased.

Eddie took the bait, his dimples deepening as he leaned in further. Batting his eyes, he asked, “Does that make you my Juliet?”

“Did you really come here just to flirt with me?”

He sat up, twisting himself around to actually sit on the armrest. Fiddled with his fingers.

“Well, my tour ended.”

“It did, did it?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, quirking up his eyebrows. “And I find it peculiar that your tour ends in two weeks, butyou have next week off.” Your head tilted in confusion. “And I was thinking that, uh, if you’re in California, we could hang out. If you’d like.”

Biting back a grin, you asked, “You want to spend more time with me?”

Eddie leaned in closer to you, nearly beckoning you towards him.

Voice all hushed, saying, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I think I’d like that,” you whispered, drawing closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Knock, knock.

“It’s time to go!” Scott exclaimed from behind the door.

Both of you stood, but not before you caved and gave his cheek a quick peck. And before you could give him a chance to respond, you were skipping out of the door.

You performed the best you ever had that night.

It was strange, the way every smile you bore was genuine. There was no true performance added that night. No, you were running on a high that seemed far beyond your comprehension. And it gave you a feeling that maybe that’s what Eddie had felt the other night.

But you had next to no time to think about it when you were rushed offstage and immediately found him in the wings. It surprised you, truly. Unlike Eddie’s stage, yours was more theatrical, with dancers and props and platforms and guitars and pianos and ukuleles—

Essentially, you were not near him at all during your set.

So, when you saw him standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, you couldn’t help but grin and approach him. You thought about hugging him, but restrained yourself. This was a guy you still barely knew. Even Scott seemed to find the whole thing a little odd. And, sure, maybe it was on the outside.

But to you, it just made perfect sense.

God, you felt like a goddamn teenager. A damn child on the playground, running around in a bashful haze. A chase that wasn’t really a chase. If anything, Eddie was giving in to whatever this was. Spending the whole night in his arms, whispering about your lives and the plans you’d made for the upcoming week.

And when you woke up before him, you leaned over to apply your travel-sized Miss Dior perfume. You rearranged your hair, your wrinkled nightgown. Situated yourself back next to him and closed your eyes.

“Did you just…put on perfume?” No response. “I just saw you, you know. Saw the whole fucking thing.” Eddie leaned over, nuzzling his head in your neck. Moaned. “You do smell ravishing, though. Is that Dior?”

Your eyes flew open. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Ah, look, I caught ya,” he said, causing you to groan and throw your hands over your face. “I like to smell the little perfume and cologne samplers in the magazines, you know?”

You finally looked at him, all droopy-eyed and goofy smile.

“Oh, you’re smart.”

“It’s interactive,” he responded with a shrug. “Can’t pass it up.”

You dressed in silence, making sure his wet jacket had dried without any damage. But before he left, he had the fucking nerve to give your neck one last kiss.

“Don’t try to make yourself something else in the morning.” One last inhale of your scent. “All I want is you, sweetheart. And I want it all.” One last graze of his teeth against your skin. “Don’t hide from me next week, alright?”

One last nod.

One last embrace.

One more moment leaving you in disarray.

You spent the entire week the two of you had off together. And it wasn’t just “hanging out.” No, it was playing card games. Sitting on your balcony with glasses of wine. Watching movies. Making breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Shared baths and poolside kisses at his house. Meeting his cats and hanging out with Jeff who lived nearby. Sunrises and sunsets.

And in that time, you tried to find things about him that were cringey. Gross. Unsettling.

But it was…impossible.

And on that Friday, you thought you had it. Eddie had ended up back in your California home, tangled beneath the sheets for three hours before you officially tapped out.

He’d turned to you, holding up a joint and his lighter.

“Do you wanna smoke?” he asked.

You grinned. “Absolutely.”

As you threw on a tank top and shorts, you glanced over at his phone resting on the bedside table. You noticed that his phone case was deep charcoal, smattered with tiny red dice, a throne, and a crown. Right there in the center was his band’s name.

That’s it, you told yourself. He’s secretly self-absorbed and thinks too highly of himself. Massive ego. Absolutely insufferable behind closed doors.

But when you turned and asked, he looked…slightly embarrassed?

“It must seem so pretentious, right?” he said, pulling up his gray sweatpants. “I know. But really, I just like the cool art. I worked with the artist about a year ago and, I don’t know, I think it’s fucking awesome. And I got the whole band matching ones with little individual stuff to match their D&D characters.” He smiled as he spoke. “The guys got so excited. They’ve all got ‘em still.”

He shrugged, plugging it into the charger.

“That’s…actually really cool,” you said truthfully.

“Yeah?” He turned back. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Not when it means something to you,” you replied. “I just wish you’d be a little bit awful.”

That’s when you saw him smile, taking a step forward. “Why’s that?”

“So I have a reason not to like you as much as I do,” you said.

And you hated yourself for saying it. But there was just this thing he did where he made you tell the truth. It wasn’t even an impulse; it was as if it was instinct. Like your body didn’t have a choice. It just knew.

“I can be gross if you need a reason to go,” he suggested. “But just so you know, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s so gross about you?”

“Uh, I pick my nose.”

“Like everyone else.”

“I have the most iconic burps but the deadliest farts.” You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. “I’m awful about doing my own laundry. I have a lot of ass hair. Like, it’s almost a problem. My nails are wrecked from all the guitar playing.” He lifted his fingers, showing off his chipped polish and crooked fingernails. “Oh, and if I eat even, like, a bite of a burrito, I’m in the bathroom for an hour.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. He really was just a normal person.

“Let’s go outside,” he suggested. “If I don’t have a joint and a cigarette, I think I might fall over and die.”

You followed him, heading down the wooden stairs, all the while saying, “You shouldn’t smoke cigarettes. Your poor little metal vocal cords must be suffering.”

Eddie threw up his hands. “Hey, I went down from five a day to one. Doesn’t that count for literally anything?”

“The jury’s still out,” you teased. “Also, for the record, I don’t think your ass is too hairy.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen it unwaxed, sweetheart.”

You opened the French doors. “I shiver at the thought of that being someone’s job.”

“Oh no?” he asked from behind you, grabbing your ass. You yelped as he added, “You don’t wanna do it next time?”

“Absolutely not.”

You grew quiet as you lit up, Eddie showing off his special lighter. It was a different look for him, some kind of flower sprouting from an orange liquid. Tangerine bulbs. A sage green top with a golden rim. A gift from his uncle, he told you. Given to him after his father died.

“Can I ask something true?” you asked as soon as he was done explaining.

You couldn’t understand why you felt so nervous to have questions. It was all you ever did these days, in between kisses and meals. During cheesy rom-coms and horror films. In the shower, over text. Anything and everything seemed to be laid out in front of you, no matter what. Eddie was an open book.

“Always,” he answered.

“Do you think about your parents a lot?” you asked.

“Not always,” he responded. “I mainly just wonder what their relationship was like.”

“What do you mean?”

“We kinda fall in line with what our parents lay out for us, don’t we?” he questioned, taking another hit. “Like, I’ve never had a relationship last or really had something special. And my parents had to be happy some of the time at least. Right?”

You didn’t say anything, still trying to follow his train of thought.

“I have to wonder if, like, we just end up as unhappy as them. Like, in the end, we really do die all alone. We’re not built to stay happy.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t think you could be happy with someone long-term?”

The pit in your stomach worsened as you realized you were really asking, You don’t think you could be happy long-term with me?

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess I just have always felt like, when I die, I’ll look back and realize that I never got the chance to be someone’s first choice.”

Before you could think, you said, “Maybe you just haven’t been given the chance.”

He looked at you.

And there was that spark, crackling in your abdomen. In your fingers. In your head. That moment when you knew that this had become something more. You’d gone on and on, day after day with his body here, his hands and fingertips lingering on every surface. Sitting at your kitchen table. Fingers pressed against buttons on remotes. Another set of hands to help you make the bed.

This man who you couldn’t help but feel a certain word towards.

That dangerous fucking word you’d never utter to yourself.

Eddie blinked several times before he became very interested in his socked feet. So you looked down, watching him fidget by wiggling his toes.

“You doing anything fun after tour?”

“I’m going to Pittsburg to see a few of my friends,” you explained. “We’ll probably go to some frat party.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “A college party?”

You shrugged, taking the joint. “They all go there. It’s actually fun to pretend I actually went.”

“Can’t blame you,” he said with a nod. “I didn’t get my GED until, like, a year after we really got big.”

Eyes widening, you nearly coughed out your hit. “Really?”

“Yeah. Fuck high school.”

You nodded. “Fuck high school indeed.”

“Don’t miss me too much while you’re out being a cool college kid.”

You snorted. “Oh, wow. Playing the missing game?"

“Why, you scared you’ll lose?”

You shrugged, shying away from him. But he had other plans, resting his hands on your hips before bringing you closer. Lips meeting the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I have a feeling you’ll never say it, but I will. I think you’re gonna win.”

“What makes you so sure?” you whispered back, breath hitching in your throat as he left a trail of kisses down your neck. The high was intensifying the sensation, each touch more sensitive than the last. You didn’t last long, mewling in his arms as you felt yourself go limp.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, tightening his grasp on you. “You don’t even have to tell me. I just know.”

Eddie had to leave soon after that, needing to feed his cats.

You didn't mind, still out on the balcony. Deep in thought as the world hazed around you. And as soon as you were left to your own devices to parse your emotions, they began to swallow you.

See, you wouldn’t consider yourself a train wreck. No, you’d already been around too many. Something in you considered yourself the wreckage, the carnage in the aftermath. A burning storm, a flurry of ash. Standing in the center, surrounded by the flames. Who would come back to you after all that? Who would stand by you while you put yourself back together again? And who would stay?

There was no dark side to Eddie, no indication that there was something wrong with him. He had his moments, sure, but he was human. He was bound to have things that faltered. It never made you feel like there was something to send you running. And maybe that’s what was starting to hurt the most. Because what if someone caught you? What if someone had seen you in Vegas? Indianapolis? Seattle?

And it was in that moment, as you stared up at the moonlight, that you realized that this secret was the only thing keeping you together. What happened next if the press found you out? If the world looked at you, the woman who dated everyone, standing hand-in-hand with him, the man who dated everyone. Where would you be able to stand? Would it be a foundation you could build together? Or would one of you eventually find it too hard to cope with?

Would Eddie still stay?

You sighed, shoving your hands into your pockets. But your fingers wrapped around something lightweight, pulling it out to find Eddie’s lighter.

You grabbed your phone and texted him.

You left your lighter!

His response was immediate.

keep it safe for me, sweetheart. i’ll come back for it. and you. promise.

credit to @strangergraphics for this divider because it inspired me so heavily :')

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givemequeen · 4 years

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Deep breath in, deep breath out. It’s gonna be fine. ; george x reader

request: i cant find it whoops a/n: hope you enjoy this, ill make a part 2 of coming out to the guys if yall want? pairing: bi reader x geo summary: coming out to Geo as bi warnings: slight internalised homophobia? year: mid-60s word count: 392

Deep breath in, deep breath out. It’s gonna be fine.

You paced around your living room, you wrung your fingers nervously. George was even more nervous, his heart was racing. Why hadn’t you said anything? The look on your face, of pure fear, terrified him. He gathered any courage he had left and cleared his throat hoping to, at least, gain your attention, maybe even get you to stop walking but nothing happened. You didn’t even flinch.

“yn?” this time you jumped slightly. “What is it? Is something wrong?” his mind wandered, much to his dismay, to dark places. “Are you pregnant?” he would love to form a family with you but it was too soon. You chuckled at that. “Are you breaking up with me?” his mouth opened to ask another question.

“I’m bi.” you stopped pacing but still didn’t look at him.

“Bi? What?” he was slightly relieved, you weren’t pregnant or breaking up with him.

“Queer. I’m queer.”

His hurt sunk, so you were breaking up with him.

“Oh… you like girls?” you nodded, finally looking up to him. “So, I guess this is it. I’ll pack my things.” he started getting up but you quickly pushed him back down.

“No! I like girls and boys!” you clarified. “Bi, bisexual. Bi… two…” you explained and held up to fingers.

“Oh- oh!” he smiled again. “You scared me, I thought you were breaking up with me.” he chuckled to himself. “Anyway, is that it?” he looked back up to you, you were on the verge of tears. “What’s wrong-“

“So you don’t mind? You don’t think I’m disgusting or greedy or mentally ill? You still love me?” you rushed to get the words out.

“Of course I still love you! I don’t care if you like girls as long as you like me.” he placed his hands on your hips. “You alright?”

You sighed, feeling as though a hundred pounds were lifted off your chest and shoulders. You could finally breathe. You collapsed onto his lap and he immediately wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank God, I thought you would've hated me,” you whispered against his chest.

“Never.” he kissed the top of your head, arms wrapped tightly around you.

tag list;

@thebeatleswritings @beatlevmania @i-love-queen-3000 @brians-metaphor26 @honimello @julessworldd @storiesfrommirkwood @beatles-babee @geostarr @thiccjelly17 @crab-king-69 @in-the-frap-of-the-gods

#george harrison #george harrison x reader #george harrison fluff #george harrison one shot #george harrison imagine #the beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles fluff #the beatles one shot #the beatles imagine #the beatles angst #george harrison angst

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givemequeen · 4 years

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they don’t understand ; george x reader

request: really going through it right now and need some comfort. could i request a fluffy thing with john or george about the reader being insecure about her bisexuality cause her parents don’t support her about it and one of them comforting her through it? 🥺 a/n: i’m alive? i look pretty good for a dead bitch pairing: george x reader summary: you sorta get kicked out and go rant to Geo about it. warnings: none. parents who kick their child out because of their sexuality? year: 1961-62 ish word count: 548

“FUCK!” you yelled, kicking the innocent rubbish bin. “They don’t understand!” you shoved a hand through your hair, your other hand resting on your hip as you marched around the cramped living room.

Meanwhile, George just watched from his place on his couch. You had stumbled into his flat half an hour ago and once you finally stopped crying you had gone into a rant. Unfortunately, you talked away too quickly for George to understand a single word that came out of your mouth.

“Erm, yn?” you snapped your head towards him. “Don’t understand what?” those three words were the first he was able to pick up.

“I- weren’t you listening?” his eyes widened, terrified you will start screaming at him.

“Well- it’s just- I didn’t really understand anything.” he chewed on his lower lip, dropping his gaze to his feet.

“I came out to my parents, Geo, I’m bi.”

Now, that gained his attention. His head snapped up, mouth slightly opened. He quickly shut it and stood before sitting back down, not knowing what to do with his body.

“Congratulations yn. I- I love you?” he offered, not sure what to do but still wanting to support you. Your expression softened, a smile.

“Thank- thank you! See? Not so hard!” she yelled to the different of the window. “My fucking parents said I was just confused and it was a ‘sin’ and I will burn in hell.”

“Why would they say that? You’re not confused, right?” he asked.

“No! I’m not!” you plopped down next to him on his couch. “And now I don’t know what to do- I can’t go back. They made that clear.” you huffed, your head dropping to your hands. You sniffed as tears threatened to spill again.

“You can- if you want to - stay with me?” it came out more like a question than George wanted. He placed his hand on your back and you slowly rose as the impact of his words hit you.

“Do you mean that? You’re not... disgusted?” you asked.

“Disgusted? Why?”

“Because I like girls.” you said, shame lacing your words. You lowered your gaze and bit your lip.

“I like girls too. Are you disgusted?” you chuckled, head hung low. George gently cupped your chin using his index and thumb. Very slowly, he made you look at him, his hands now cupping your cheek. You stared into his chocolate brown eyes, his thumbs cleaned your tears.

“YN, I love you, you know that, right?” a small nod. “And I’m sure you love me, right?” another nod and a smile. “I love you no matter what, I don’t care if you like girls as well. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me, I want you to live with me. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Fuck your parents, alright?”

You let out a choky laugh and nodded, collapsing in his arms. He hugged you tighter, pulling you onto his lap. His left hand went to your hair, soflty pulling it back as you nuzzled your face further into his chest, your arms tight around him. His right hand went to your back, softly rubbing up and down. You sighed against his warm body and finally felt you belonged someone, like you were loved.

tag list; @thebeatleswritings @beatlevmania @i-love-queen-3000 @brians-metaphor26 @honimello @julessworldd @storiesfrommirkwood @beatles-babee @geostarr @thiccjelly17 @crab-king-69 @in-the-frap-of-the-gods

#george harrison #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagine #george harrison one shot #george harrison fluff #george harrison angst #the beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles imagine #the beatles one shot #the beatles fluff #the beatles angst

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givemequeen · 5 years

Text

below the cut is everything that is currently in my inbox:

the first one (at the top) is the one i am currently working on, thanks for your patience.

also, things that are crossed out are my words

Roger Taylor x reader x john lennon threesome smut

imagine each beatle reacting to their girlfriend licking an ice cream cone with out realizing how suggestive it looks

PLEASE do more devil john lennon! (p≧w≦q)

Hi! Could you do me a favour and write me some Brian May fluff? I'm on my period and it's rough! Thank you, love your blog :)

fluff 19,29,38 smut 7,23,38 george being dominant in the studio with his girlfriend (sorry i couldn't pick you can choose what ever ones you want

Let me just say the writing in 'I want to see you' was so good like it was genuninley too much for my little heart to handle. I was wondering (if you're comfortable with it) if you could do a smutty part two, it's fine if not I know you get a lot of requests but you're soooooo good at writing and I hope you doing well with life in general x

perhaps a smut one shot about the reader and shy, kinda sub george doing it for the first time in a hotel after prom?

really going through it right now and need some comfort. could i request a fluffy thing with john or george about the reader being insecure about her bisexuality cause her parents don’t support her about it and one of them comforting her through it? 🥺

Love I'm sick, well I'm lactose intolerant and my stomach is really upset so how about Geo helping reader out and making them feel better and maybe Geo then makes the decision to not have any dairy in tho flat even tho that's hard for him to say because we know he loves his food🦙🖤

hewwo! how are you? could you please write about beatle!reader in 1965 being with the boys while filming help! especially the scene where they sing another girl and they goof around and then like paul and reader accidentally kiss each other but then they kiss more which means they love each other💖💖

Hi I absolutely love your fics!!! 💛💛 May I request one where john and reader have been flirting for so long which climaxes during the shea stadium tour and reader gets really flustered seeing john all sweaty and enjoying himself while john gets really horny seeing reader enjoying their show and they just go at it right after the concert ;))

could i please request a george oneshot where the reader is a photographer and she goes to take photos of the beatles and george is just immediately taken by her and spends the whole day trying to get her attention and she very much likes him too (very much paul/linda kind of scenario). perhaps including prompt 14 “I don’t think I’ve ever been this…happy. It’s an odd feeling.” :)))

um hi, I broke up with my boyfriend because i'm really not feeling the most mentally stable and he really didn't take it well. I was just wondering if you could cheer me up with anything. Thanks.

Okay but like a John x teen!reader where she's like a little sis to him and he notices how she has bruise's on her and he naturally asks her where it's from and she doesn't say anything and then her remembered that her dad is an asshole and he puts 2 and 2 together and makes her move in with him and mimi🌺 sorry that was a lot

hii idk if you're comfortable with it but could u write something about 80s george?

first time with teddy boy george ?

write reader riding teddy boy george 😳😳

I just read the accent kink anon and now I need something like that in my life, because all I can think about is George groaning while you whisper something to him in Spanish and he just can’t control himself 😉 Whenever you have the chance could you whip something like that up?

Hey!! been following you for a while! Can i request an imagine about you dating paul and being with him through the breakup of the band, and him being very sad and depressed and you barely talk, barely have sex, barely laugh until he realises how you must have been feeling and he apologises ;) wink wink thank you so much! love your blog!

Hey love! When u have time, could you write maybe a John Lennon x fem! reader headcanon what would John be like in bed? I love ur posts!

do ya think, you could maybe do a george x reader where the reader and george babysit baby julian since john wasn't always there for him? lots of fluff, george is good with kids and the reader's heart explodes

Could you do hc for george when fem!reader comes out as bi or LBGTQ+ ?

Could i request a fluffy shot of beatle!reader coming out as bi-sexual and she’s super nervous because be LBGTQ+ can get you in jail at the time and the guys are like, “we know”

Okay but imagine the reader is a model and she is a love interest for george and george questions bruises on her wrists. She tell him that it’s her boyfriend and later she is a love interest for george in a film. She had just broken up with her boyfriend so baby boy george shoots his shot. (Probably angst and maybe smut ;) )

After the Shea Stadium concert Paul, who is all sweaty hugs you from behind, you protest and tell him to take a shower, but he start kissing your neck and running his hands under your dress. You can't resist anymore and let Paul fuck you in the dressing room.

Can you write something smutty for George?

Hi, I love your blog❤️❤️also can I have a smutty Ringo where where at his house and admits his feelings to the reader and then dirty things start happening. Hope you have a great day❤️🌹

can you do a one shot of the reader and george just before the beatles get famous in like 1962 and he’s telling her he’ll never leave her even if they do get big, please? love ur writing!

Can you do a short fic about the reader having short curly hair and the react of the boys about it?

Hi can you do a imagine where 1961 Paul takes your virginity? Plz

idk why but I’ve been crazy about the idea of Ringo like bending you over and fucking you with his drumsticks idk, I need it plzzz

Hi could you do a imagine where you going to Disney with the Beatles and Ringo is all happy and excited and you start singing songs with him like Once Upon A Dream plz!

i know you have a lot of requests, but maybe some ringo fluff because there's not much of it? maybe ringo and reader go ice skating? you're my favorite writer on tumblr 👀

Can I request a ringo x fem reader smut? how bout one where they’re staying at Ringo’s childhood home with his family and they’re staying in his room and come night time, they get it on but try to stay relatively low key (cos they’re in his tiny childhood room in his parents house lmao) and then next day his family makes a cheeky comment, leaving them blushing and wondering if they heard everything 😝😳

Teddy Paul x square reader

Could i request a fic where Paul and the reader are listening Elvis records and he ask her to dance with him?

can you do an imagine about george and his wife/girlfriend being new parents and being all sweet with their baby just fluffy stuff :) btw love your blog, you’re so dedicated!!

could you do an imagine where the readers basically paul’s side chick behind janes back? and maybe in the end they both leave paul to be together ((sorry i’m a sucker for wlw))

Ok so your concept and writting for the Harry Potter Beatles au was amazing! Could I request of fic of that same scenario? Like the boys all have to take polyjuice potion to look like George and reader’s helping them with their plan but also being really blushy because they all look like Geo (whom she has a small crush on) and maybe the other lads use this as an opportunity to bring the two closer together. Thanks :)

idea (you can pick any beatle boy you want) you're in a conference room with your boyfriend and there's about to be a meeting and you notice how hard he is and you're not wearing panties so literal seconds before the others come into the room you just sit down on him and he has to keep his composure while he's deep inside you

Could you please write one where the reader is Paul’s love interest in Help and George has a major crush on her. Paul and Reader have to kiss in the movie and George is upset and ignored reader until the after party of the premier where she confronts him and they have sex. Thank you

Could you do beatles headcannons for the boys dating a model?

Could you do a smut fic with Teddy Paul where is the reader's birthday?

Reader and teddy boy John are best friends (could be in a relationship if you want) and the reader is fed up with how things are at home so she walks out after an argument or something and goes to see John and he’s basically just there for her and cheers her up and they have a good ol’ time jammin to records or he shows her a new song he’s learnt on guitar

Modern day teaching the Beatles how to do the renegade

I loved your modern George x reader could you do one with Paul too?

Can i request a imagine with the Beatles and Brian Epstein? I think Brian deserve some love.

Hi can you do an imagine with teddy boy Paul based on Summer Nights from Grease? Thanks.

heyy!! i've only just joined tumblr and ive found your account and i love it :)) do you think that you could do a ringo smut please i would be so grateful

Hi! um, Can you please do a POC! reader with Paul?..

Could I request a modern teddy boy!beatles were the reader has a soft grunge aesthetic and is a sweetheart and she ends up dating George cause he is a year older and the boys tease them? Maybe smut 😳

Could you do a Paul fic where is the reader's birthday and they go out for a romantic dinner ?

I don't usually ask but may I have a John x McCartney reader? And The reader is scared of John ,but deep down she has a crush on her, and John teases her about her beening scared of him.(Alsoifitisokaycanthereaderhaveglassesand beshort?)-Admin.

Could you maybe do something with dom!paul x reader?

Can I get some Ringo fluff?? Like something to do with kids, having them or taking care of them etc.?

Can I request a ringo imagine where he takes her out to a fancy tea place and treats her to a sweet girly time having cakes and sandwiches and tea and stuff and she is just so in love with him and how sweet he is and then can later that night ringo wants to be intimate (they have been before) but he’s shy about it and they get it on :’)

Can I request an angsty ringo imagine where ringo and reader have been friends and they both liked each other a lot but never have been able to admit they’re feelings for eachother and so reader dates around, and none of them are good, and ringo sees her out with some guy and he gets so upset seeing her with another man and so ringo sort of fake flirts with other girls at the club and reader gets upset n so they get together in the end and make love lol

Could you please please please do a Paul and virgin reader fic?

A cute imagine with Beatle!Assistant with dyslexia and she’s working on some files and a beatle (preferably George) helps her with the grammer and he’s making her feel not embarrassed about it and is like kissing her on the cheek (basically them being all cute and stuff) ps I LOVE your writing ❤️

Could you do a John x reader (maybe a late 70s john) were he as conflicted feelings for the reader but he is with Yoko but one day he sees her and tells her how he feels and they end up together and it ends all fluffy and stuff

can i request a reader (preferably male but gender neutral if you’re uncomfortable with writing a mlm fic)gushing over how cute honey pie (the song is) to paul and then he starts calling paul his honey pie and paul attacks his face w kisses?? very fluffy becuz.... well... it’s fluff... thank you!!

'65-66 ish soulmate au with john?? he hasn't had his turn at one yet I don't think--

omg could u do a highschool john x reader where the reader is like such a goody goody and they never rlly cross paths until one day john gets in trouble for smthg he didnt do and like idk the reader knows it wasnt him cuz she saw who acc did it and so she defends him and the teacher believes her cuz shes a good kid and then john just never leaves her alone cuz she saved him and hes like obsessed w her and she doesnt fall for it at first cuz hes a teddy boy but hes just so sweet she caves in🥰

Could you do smut with teddy boy!george and maybe Paul your older brother walks in a causes a scene cause he’s a drama queen👀😳😳😳

umm can I please uh request a John and reader smut? Just filth where the reader is really submissive and they like fuck over a desk or she’s on the kitchen counter and it’s rough but v hot??

hii can i request a teddy boy georgie x reader where theyre neighbours or smthg and they grew up tg like they were always close but since george joined the quarrymen a few years ago they havent been hanging out as much (only see eachother at school) but then one day george goes full teddy boy mode and the reader thinks hes changing and tryna be a badboy like john or smthg but rlly hes still the sweet george she knows and loves but now he has the confidence to tell her how he feels heehee :)))

early 1970s john deacon smut/fluff please heh, sub john oop

could you do a oneshot of teddy!george fucking you whilst his parents are home?? btw love your writing and dedication :)

Can you do a reeeeeally dirty and hard smut? With 70's John and a younger reader. Please :) But like, REALLY rough John

HI! i know youre probably busy, but can you please make a oneshot about respected POC! reader and her mini band singing "in spite of all the danger" in the cavern, and teddy boy ringo with his cute lil beard catching the eyes of the reader?? thank you so much!!!

#requests #what im working on #the beatles x reader

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