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gucciwins · 2 months

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Nice To Meet Ya

a/n: part two to not another rockstar I have an idea for what I want from them so I'm excited to work on this. if you have any requests for them please feel free to send them my way.

word count: 2358

warnings: smut (male receiving)

Harry was in a trance for the entirety of Y/N’s set. He knew there were more people on stage part of her band, but he didn’t seem to process a single one. Harry could only focus on one thing, and that was Y/N. He wanted more time with her than the few minutes he got. Paul and Adam had tried talking to him during the show asking if he wanted another drink or what he thought but he brushed them off instead stepping away from the table and walking closer (as close as he can in a sold-out crowd) toward the stage.

Y/N fell to her knees and threw her head back. Harry felt his pants tighten and hated himself at that moment for being a typical man. How could anyone blame him? When all he could picture were those pretty red lips leaving marks on his skin.

He really needs to talk to her again.

When the lights go out and the awful dim lights come back on, Harry turns back to his friends who are talking to Ayo, who must have joined during the show.

“What did you think, Harry? Any good?” Ayo asks, unaware of his endless thoughts of the lead singer.

Everyone in the friend group knows Harry as the music nerd. Name an artist and he’ll name five songs. From oldies to rap, he’s open to it all. He even formed a band of his own in his youth but now produces music, something he found he’s better suited to. He’s surprised he hadn’t heard of “Cleopatra” before, the band carrying an original sound of rock and with Y/N’s vocals, he knew why the crowd was in the palm of her hand.

“I’m a fan,” he admits.

Paul pats him on his shoulder. “Pretty big by your reaction to the complete set.”

Harry’s cheeks turn pink. There is no denying it when his two friends couldn’t get his attention for a single second in 45 minutes.

“Well, can you blame me?” Harry tries to defend.

The group laughs, and Paul gestures for everyone to follow him. Harry wonders if they’re leaving already but knows better than to ask and simply follows in pursuit. Ayo is now leading them through a familiar walkway. Harry feels his heartbeat accelerate. He’s stuck between wanting to run out and ready to push in front of everyone to see Y/N again.

Ayo knocks on the door reading “Cleopatra”. A petite blonde opens the door.

The blonde shrieks and pulls Ayo into a hug. She drags Ayo in, leading everyone to follow. Harry takes that moment to look around the large dressing room where there are clothes thrown on the floor, bags of makeup sit on the bathroom counter. He knows that it must be a mess to clean up. There are three girls (blonde included) but no sign of Y/N. Introductions are being made when Y/N walks out shaking a towel through her hair and is now dressed in an oversized crew neck and sweats. She looks beautiful.

Harry tries his best to not stare at her, but it proves to be hard when she comes to stand in front of him with the rest of her bandmates.

“Lastly, Y/N, these are a few of my friends.” Ayo introduces going by the order. Y/N greets everyone by repeating their names and when it’s his turn Y/N smirks, accepting Harry’s outstretched hand.

“We’ve met, right Harry,” Y/N purrs.

Harry gulps, loving the feel of her hand trailing down his hand. “Yes, we met earlier.”

Y/N giggled, loving the effect she had on him. “Poor Harry seemed a bit lost.”

Ayo shakes her head. “He’s notorious for getting lost.”

“Hey now,” Harry interrupts.

Adam wags a finger at Harry. “Boy, we’ve had to stop the music at a bar once because no one could locate you.”

Harry pouts and spares a glance at Y/N, who looks amused with the information she’s being given. “And where was he?” Y/N inquires.

“In the toilets, holding a girl’s hair back.”

“Oh a gentleman,” the blonde says while giving Y/N a small nudge.

Harry scratches his neck nervously. “Uh, the girl’s friend asked for my help while she rallied her friends.”

He did not want to relive that memory. Harry was healing a broken heart back then when his friends dragged him to the bars. He didn’t want to drink, but before he knew it, he was throwing back tequila shot after tequila shot. Harry had been single since then. He’s always been a relationship guy.

Harry loved courting, taking people on dates. Paying for their meals or even opening the car door. He’d do every stereotypical romantic thing you’ve heard of until he’d fallen in love. It almost always led him to heartbreak, but he was a hopeless romantic. He’d never close his heart off to love.

“Well, I think that was very sweet.” Y/N smiles at Harry. “What did you all think of the show?”

Harry appreciates she took the attention off of him and decides to fall behind his friends while they mingle with Y/N bandmates whose name he does not remember yet. Adam is talking with Annabelle (red hair) and Jordan (pale with blue eyes). Harry is trying to remember everyone as he eases into conversation with them. He discovered that the blonde’s name was Estrella, who was born under a meteorite shower. Then there’s Y/N, whose name he’d never forget since learning. They had been playing a game of chase as he tries his best to talk with her, but she always manages to make it to the next group for conversation.

The night is winding down and Harry is afraid to go home without getting Y/N’s number. He feels aware of everyone in the room and it’s what has stopped him from going and stealing her for a conversation. As he is thinking about saying his goodbye’s Y/N comes to stand next to him happily joining the conversation with Paul, he was just having. Y/N is the type of person he thinks twice about approaching. Harry is confident in an environment he’s comfortable in, say the studio or a bookshop, but here in the venue where clearly Y/N runs the show, he isn’t sure how to proceed. Harry’s too stuck in his head.

“I’m going to steal Harry for a bit, Paul. I heard he’s a talented musician.” Y/N tells his friend, surprising Harry.

“By all means. Pick his brain.” Paul pushes Harry forward.

Y/N reaches for his hand, pausing for a moment to see if he’s alright with that. Harry gives her a nod, and it’s all the encouragement she needs.

She leads them down winding hallways until they step into a private green room with a couch and two guitars.

“I like to come here and play on my own before the show. Everyone knows not to bother me here,” Y/N tells him.

Harry feels honored, but also doesn’t know if she’s done this for others. “And why am I here?”

Y/N turns to look at him. A teasing smile sits on her glossed lips. “Come on, Harry. Do I really need to say it?”

Harry frowns. What can Y/N be referring to?

Y/N rolls her eyes, but he takes no offense as she walks back over to him. “The chemistry between us,” she purrs. “We’ve got to do something about it.”

“Do you want to go on a date?” Harry asks confidently, thinking this is what she’s searching for.

“Oh sweet boy,” Y/N walks in front of him. “I’m talking about taking care of this tension.”

Harry feels his pants tighten. He wants her more than anything. A taste of how sweet she must be, but it seems Y/N will be in charge of whatever happens in this room.

“What do you have in mind?”

Y/N twirls a piece of her hair. “Would you let me suck you off?”

Harry takes a deep breath. He’s never met someone as forward as Y/N. It’s clear she goes after what she wants. It doesn’t matter how she gets it.

“Shouldn’t I be rewarding you?”

Y/N laughs, pushing her hair back. “Who’s saying you’re not?”

Harry smiles at Y/N. He’s trying his best to get an understanding of her, but it’s clear she’s special.

“Now, am I okay to get on my knees and suck your cock?”

Harry has to choke back a moan. Y/N knows what she wants, and it’s Harry.

“Yes, please,” he whispers.

Pleased, Y/N gets down on her knees and unbuckles Harry’s belt. She’s quick to pull down his pants. Harry is hard, of course he is. Y/N is pleased, they’re a twinkle in her eyes as she looks up at him silently asking to remove this barrier. Harry gives her a nod. Y/N wastes no time in pulling down his briefs and is pleased to see his stiff cock.

Y/N’s face lights up with excitement. He’s much bigger than she expected. Y/N’s lips hovered over the tip, taking in the sheer size of his cock. Y/N felt herself get wet with desire and knew just how badly she needed this. She’d worry about taking care of herself later.

Harry shivered as Y/N’s warm breath trickled against the tip of his cock as her lips brushed against the head. He kept his eyes down, watching as Y/N eagerly dragged her soft, warm lips against the tip of his cock.

Y/N was lining his cock with kisses, getting lost in feeling him.

“Fuck, you look so pretty,” he muttered.

A soft moan left her lips in appreciation of his words. Harry watched on as Y/N took inch by inch into her mouth, coating his cock with her saliva.

“Ohh fuck,” Harry groaned as he stared down at the woman of his dreams. Her head moved up and down his cock as she sucked, her mouth forming a large ‘o’ shape. Her cheeks hollowed in as she sucked deeply against his dick. “Fuck, Y/N. Yes, baby!”

Y/N moaned against him as she pushed more of his cock down her throat. Her mouth watered as every inch of his cock pressed against her tongue. She bobbed back and forth, loving the taste of him in her mouth. Harry stared at Y/N in awe as she took every inch of him in her wet mouth. Y/N hungrily worked towards the base of his shaft. He let her keep going, and soon his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat. She slowed a bit, gagging slightly, but it did not stop her from sucking.

After a few moments, Y/N pulled her mouth away from the base. She took a deep breath but didn’t pull away; she licked up his shaft. “You have a nice cock.” Y/N told him in a breathless tone.

Harry couldn’t believe this girl. “You’re an angel.”

Y/N smirked, “I wouldn’t say that.”

Y/N stroked him with her left hand. She loved how heavy he felt in her hand. Harry’s heaving breathing was a sign he was close. His stamina was impressive. Y/N had been with guys who’ve cum as soon as her lips touched their tip, but not Harry. She had to wonder what he was hiding under his shirt. She knew she was going to have some fun with him.

She kept her eyes locked on Harry’s as she lowered her head once again to suck his cock. The dirty sounds filled the room, Harry’s moans bouncing off the walls and going straight to her wet core. A fire burned through Y/N as she felt Harry getting close. His groans rang louder. Her name fell off his lips, effortlessly edging her on.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He pants. “I’m going to come.”

Harry says it as a warning for her to pull away, but Y/N is determined. She wants to swallow his come. She’s greedy for it.

“Y/N!” He warns one last time.

Y/N pulls away, her lips swollen and saliva dripping down her chin. “I want it down my throat, Harry.”

She bobs her head and waits for him. She takes as much of him as she can and feels Harry tense. He sets one hand in her hair. Y/N gasps against him, not expecting the pain but enjoying.

“Baby, Y/N I’m coming.”

Y/N hums as she slowly pulls off his cock. She sits back against her heels. Y/N makes a show for him to see she swallowed every last drop. Harry leans against the wall for support. Y/N cleans around her mouth with her thumb. She sees it’s a small drop and instead of wiping it off; she licks her thumb clean.

She flashes him a smile. Harry shakes his head, not believing what just happened. He’s not sure what to say. He wants to return the favor but Y/N’s phone rings. She takes a quick peek, and he knows it’s time to head back. Y/N helps him slip back on his briefs and pants. Harry offers her his hand to help her stand, and she accepts.

“That was fun. I’ve got to go now.” Y/N leans in and presses a kiss on his cheek. “Bye now”

“Can I have your number?” He shouts as she’s walking away. Harry can’t let her slip away.

Y/N turns and gives him a wink. “Check your pocket.”

He’s quick to put his hands in his jeans and in the front left pocket finds a piece of paper. It’s a ripped recipient and on the back in pink is a note with her phone number.

Please don’t make me wait long for a call xx Y/N

Harry wondered if calling her when he got home would make him seem eager? Guess he’ll have to try to find out.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles story #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine

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gardenschedule · 2 months

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just insane mclennon things

John playing his and Yoko's sex tape in a band meeting

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Paul putting beetles fucking on his album artwork

John hiring a pig and posing with it solely to mock Ram even though he was scared of it

At the end of the day a farmer delivered a huge hog to the mansion [Tittenhurst Park]. It was John’s notion to parody the album jacket photograph of Paul McCartney’s Ram, which showed Paul wrestling with a ram; John would wrestle with a pig. We all went outside and stared at the large surly animal. It was much bigger than any of us had expected. John circled the animal warily. He liked the idea, but he didn’t like the hog. Dan stood poised to snap the picture. “Climb on its back, John, and grab its ears,” he said. John looked doubtful. He stepped closer to the animal. It let out a shrill, strange, sound. John stepped back, but we all urged him on. “You can do it, John,” I said. John approached the animal once again. “I can’t hold the friggin’ pig for too long. You get one shot and one shot alone,” he told Dan.

Loving John: The Untold Story, May Pang

John & Yoko attempting to get revenge married in Paris 2 days after Paul & Linda

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

John Lennon

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

Their belief in telepathy & shared dreams

NEIL: I’d just rather not say anything. It’s one of those situations. PAUL: Yeah. [pause] Well, that’s – that’s the trouble you see, there, ‘cause that’s it. It’s like, with our – heightened awareness, the answer is not to say anything, you know. But it isn’t. ‘Cause I mean, we screw each other up totally if we don’t do that. ‘Cause we’re not ready for your heightened… vows of silence. [laughs; hapless] We’re really not! Like, we don’t know what the fuck each other’s talking about, when that – we all just sort of get— NEIL: I think it’s just between the four of you, that get it. That’s what I’d pretend. PAUL: Oh yeah, right, yeah. But you see, that’s it, that’s why John doesn’t say anything. ‘Cause he, you know, he just… There was something the other day, when I said, “Well, what do you think?” And he just stood there and didn’t say anything. And then – and I know exactly why, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t, if… [long pause] Somehow. You know, there’s nothing really much to be said about it. You just – we all just have to do it, and all that, instead of like talking about it. But – but if one of us is talking about it, it’s a drag if the other three aren’t. Because then it sort of throws you off. [inaudible; voice marking tape slate] I mean, we’ve just been talking about it now for a few years, you know. Like this…

From the Get Back sessions (13 January 1969).

HINDLE: What do you think about language? JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that. HINDLE: You believe that? JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. [...] There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. HINDLE: Yeah. JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. HINDLE: Just ’cause of words? JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that— HINDLE: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

John Lennon, interviewed by Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

PAUL: I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.

PAUL MCCARTNEY TO THE BIG ISSUE. FEBRUARY 2012.

John climbing the wall to Paul's house because Paul skipped a session for his & Linda's anniversary

(Not confirmed but supposedly)

Paul being utterly convinced that John can't be gay because he didn't try it on when they slept in the same bed

I mean, if John was–the trouble is, see, is he’s not here to fend for himself, and we can’t ask him, “‘Scuse me, John, are you–have you ever been gay?” I mean, he’s the kind— I remember people used to ask that. There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And I say, if he’s homosexual, I thought he’d have made a pass at me in 20 years, darling.”

Paul McCartney talking about John Lennon.

“Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, was a known homosexual. Epstein was always polite and charming. It has been insinuated that John was drawn to Epstein. I believe there was no such relationship between them. John was macho. But if John was a homosexual, it would have made no difference to me. I’ve asked Paul McCartney, who laughed and said: ‘Why not me? I’m handsome.’ Then he said: ‘I was holed up with John in hotel rooms everywhere. There was never a suggestion of anything like that.’ I believe him.”

Julia Baird, in Boston Globe: Lennon’s half-sister remembers… (2 October 1988).

“All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.”

Paul McCartney, The Brian Epstein Story

And maybe he's right to be offended?

Did Lennon have sex with other men? “I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono. “No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.” So did Lennon ever have sex with men? “No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

Yoko on her and John discussing the terms of an open marriage in 1973 (John Lennon: The Life)

On that note, Paul's obsession with sleeping in the same bed as John

Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998

John and I used to hitch-hike places together, it was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed, and Mike Robbins, who was a real nice guy, would come in late at night to say good night to us, switching off the lights as we were all going to bed.

Many Years From Now

John and I always liked wordplay. So, the phrase ‘She’s got a ticket to ride’ of course referred to riding on a bus or train, but – if you really want to know – it also referred to Ryde on the Isle of Wight, where my cousin Betty and her husband Mike were running a pub. That’s what they did; they ran pubs. He ended up as an entertainment manager at a Butlin’s holiday resort. Betty and Mike were very showbiz. It was great fun to visit them, so John and I hitchhiked down to Ryde, and when we wrote the song we were referring to the memory of this trip. It’s very cute now to think of me and John in a little single bed, top and tail, and Betty and Mike coming to tuck us in.

Paul McCartney, on ‘Ticket To Ride’. In The Lyrics (2021).

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

New Statesman, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle,” September 26, 1997

“I wrote all those songs with him so…. what can I say to people?? We were kids! I mean… we slept together, topped and tailed in beds and hitch-hiking and stuff, so,…. I mean, we were just totally you know,….. mates.”

Paul McCartney

John taking matters into his own hand to start rumours about him and Paul

The consensus among John, Paul and Yoko that if J&P could have been together, they would have

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

Y: After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

"We thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.""

youtube

As a second choice from the Lennon- McCartney songbook, Elton suggested 'I Saw Her Standing There'. This appealed to John for its antiquity, and because its lead vocal always was sung by Paul. (...) There was a whisper of Royal Variety Show mischief when he announced "a number by an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul" - no one yet knowing the estranged fiancés were long reconciled.

John Lennon: The Life, Philip Norman

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

Married couple signatures

(and the reverse of that postcard...)

John publicly predicting Paul & Linda's divorce

You were right about New York! I do love it; it's the ONLY PLACE TO BE. (Apart from anything else, they leave you alone too!) I see you prefer Scotland! (MM) -- I'll bet you your piece of Apple you'll be living in New York by 1974 (two years is the usual time it takes you right?)

John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker, 1971 Finally, about not telling anyone that I left the Beatles—PAUL and Klein both spent the day persuading me it was better not to say anything—asking me not to say anything because it would 'hurt the Beatles'—and 'let's just let it petre out'—remember? So get that into your petty little perversion of a mind, Mrs. McCartney—the cunts asked me to keep quiet about it. Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you'll be out then—inspite of it all, love to you both, from us two.

John's personal letter to Linda & Paul, 1971

JOHN: Oh, [Klein]’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up. YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #only a tiny fraction of insane things #they have such chaotic lore

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finelinevogue · 2 months

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love isn’t weakness

summary - paul helps you see that love isn’t a weakness

pairing - paul atreides x caladan!reader

word count - +1k

🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨

You wake to the Paul sleeping soundly beside you.

For once.

So often now does Paul wake up in a cold sweat from his dreams. You can’t imagine how terrifying seeing the possible future must be, but as long as he has you beside him to hold his hand he assures you he’ll be okay.

You wipe the sleep away from your eyes and sit up to let the blanket fall from your body.

Some days you wish you had been allowed to stay on Caladan. Days like today, where you mourn the loss of your parents who died in a war long ago.

Now, you were lost to the deserts of Arakkis.

Paul was slowly becoming a God here and soon you were afraid you’d lose him to the desert too.

You watched him for a few moments, his chest rising slowly and falling again. There was something so overwhelming about watching him just exist.

Watching him grow up as your best friend had never been like this. You’d only grown in feelings for Paul when he was sent to Arakkis before you. The loss of not having him near all the time was horrible, and when reunited Paul made that clear to you by kissing you as more than a best friend.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly so not to disturb him, before getting ready to go outside to greet the waking sun.

No one else on camp was awake.

You were away from Worm territory and clear of any Harkonnen’s for now.

Trudging up the steep sand bank, you crested to the top and was greeted by the expanse lands of the dunes.

Nothing for miles. Far as your eyes could see, there was nothing but peaks and troughs of mountainous dunes.

You sat down carefully, watching some sand slide down the dune beside you.

Opening the small piece if dirtied white - now grey - cloth in your hand you found your small locket. The circular shaped pendant necklace opened to the treasure inside - a small picture of your parents on their wedding day.

You gulped back the phantom stone in the back of your throat and squeezed the pendant in your hand tightly.

“I miss you.” You whispered to the desert.

Silence returned.

“You would never guess where I am now!” You laughed to yourself, wiping your tears away quickly with the back of your hand.

It was advised to never cry in the desert, lest you want to lose all your bodies water reserves.

You blew out a big breath, trying to remind calm. “Could do with a nightmare of a family dinner right now.”

‘Nightmare’ because there would always be an argument of some sort about what you were going to have. It was never actually a nightmare, you just liked to refer to them as that.

Soft footsteps could be heard behind you, climbing the dune not so subtly. Although, you suspected they wanted you to hear them so you knew someone was coming.

Only when he sat next to you, did you realise it was Paul.

He sat tight beside you, not leaving much room.

He looked out towards the vast landscape and said nothing. He was good at knowing when or it you wanted him to speak, or when you just wanted the company.

For now, company was all you needed.

He softly slunk his calloused hand into yours, interlinking your fingers and squeezing to show you he was there for you.

He knew what this day was to you.

“I don’t want to be weak when I think about them anymore.” You whispered, hoping Paul would understand.

“It’s not weak to miss them, Y/N.”

“I feel it.” You dipped your head, opening your other hand to reveal the pendant.

“Love isn’t a weakness. That’s what you feel; love. You’re loving them even after they’ve gone.” He explained in a way a true leader could only.

“That was a very wise thing to have come from you.” You turned to look at him and he was already smiling at you, both of your glowing in the morning sun now.

“Love has made me wise.”

He looked at your lips. You looked from his eyes to his own.

“Then you would know, love isn’t wise at all.” You responded with something Lady Jessica had told him when he had declared that you were together.

Literally, declared in front of a whole camp of Fremens. It was simultaneously both the most embarrassing and happiest moment you’d felt on this planet.

Paul decided to shut you up by kissing you, not too harshly otherwise you’d both go falling off the top of the dunes - which, yes, had happened before.

He cupped your cheek softly and kissed just as much. His lips were warm with the wake of the sun and your insides started to glow just as brightly.

Love.

“You make me feel less weak.” You pulled back to tell him, whispering the words only a breaths touch away from his lips.

“That’s because you love me.” He teased, kissing you with a smile.

You pushed his shoulder ever-so-lightly, to get him back for the teasing.

“Do you not?” He questioned, pretending to be offended. He touched your cheek furthest from him and tugged it so you would face him again. “Hmm?”

“You’re so dependent on what my feelings are for you?”

“Yes.”

The light conversations between you never failed to outshine any dark moments you way be having.

“That makes you a weak man. Maybe you aren’t Lisan Al-Gaib after all.” You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

“Maybe. Love still doesn’t make me a weak man though and it doesn’t make you weak either.” He kissed the tip of your nose softly.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him.

“They’re still there, watching over you.” He nodded to the sky where the last of the stars were twinkling still. Soon they’d be gone and the sky would be lit in cerulean blue.

“I know.”

“And they’re here too.” He touched over your heart and then over his. Your parents had been as close to him as his own father, so he knows what the loss feels like even after all this time.

He now knows the kind of whole a loved one can leave on your heart. It’s learning to know not how to re-fill it, but live with it that’s the difficult part.

He was learning how to do that from you, just as you learnt from him.

You kissed him again, just because you needed to let him know that you appreciated him - more than words could ever explain.

Paul gave you a small smile when be broke away from your lips quietly.

“I love you. To forever.”

“To forever.”

#dune part two #dune part 2 #dune fic #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothée x reader #timothé chalamet x reader #paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides fic #timothée chalamet fic #dune x reader

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astranva · 2 years

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Sexiest Man Alive

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: Pure fluff

Warning: Nothing

Summary: In which Chris is 2022's Sexiest Man Alive, he can't stop talking about his actress!wife and son, and actress!reader already knows.

a/n: MY GOODNESS the amount of asks i received about chris’ new title, i had to come out of my shell and give you something about it! i received a lot of “how does pe!reader feel” and here you go, my lovies!

Globally, people knew that you and Chris were the hottest couple alive. They had pictures, videos, and social media posts to prove it, and it helped that your high status was one that supported the fact as well.

“Can you hear me?” Megan, Chris’ publicist excitedly asked from his laptop screen, “Is Y/N here?”

“Right here,” you called, carrying your 2-month-old baby boy, River, as you stood behind the couch and right behind your husband.

“What’s up?” Chris asked her.

“Chris has just got a new title!” She exclaimed with a beaming face.

“Come on, Meg, spill!” You laughed.

She laughed, “Well, say hello to 2022’s Sexiest Man Alive,” she pointed through the screen.

Chris’ eyes widened and as did yours, your jaw dropping, “No way! No way! Are you kidding?” You exclaimed excitedly, “Finally! Finally, finally, finally!” You laughed in glee.

“Oh man,” Chris laughed, blushing face looking from Megan to turning his head to peek up at you, “How can I ever compete with Paul Rudd?”

You laughed, carefully leaning down to peck his lips, “No competition needed,” you said before looking at your baby, “You hear that. Rivvy? Daddy’s the sexiest man alive,” you giggled.

It wasn’t even three days later when People magazine reached out to plan a photoshoot with Chris, your husband deciding to have it on your farmhouse where the both of you were staying for the year instead of having to travel anywhere and leave you alone.

It was no surprise that everyone from the crew was almost shaking at your presence, having already been nervous as was about being Chris but being around the one and only Y/N Y/L/N did a number on everyone, and it didn’t help that you looked like you were glowing despite having a simple outfit that everyone knew that only you could elevate. It felt like everyone was feeling lucky to witness you after your birth, especially since you had been on a hiatus ever since River was born and the world hadn’t seen you since.

“Sorry, can you wait just a second, please?” You held a finger up to the photographer, Michael Swchwartz, smiling when he nodded and gave you an “of course” before you hurried towards Chris, pushing back a piece of hair, “Know you’d hate it if you saw that little stinker,” you muttered.

Chris smiled, hand moving to your waist, “I love you.”

You smiled, moving your hand to his cheek briefly, being quick and swift as you pecked his lips, “Lucky me,” you said.

Chris laughed, giving your hip a squeeze before you walked back to stand by the side, watching your husband pose for a few minutes before you went back inside to check on River.

It was an hour and a half later when Chris was changed from the outfits that he wore in the pictures, to a cozy sweater, sitting for the interview that everyone at their homes watched.

“What went through my mind?” He repeated the question he was asked, “My wife will be so happy,” he chuckled, “She’s proud of everything I do, but this is something that she’ll really brag about, although she’ll tease me a bit about it but-but she gets it, she gets it. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world anyway. Scientists proved it,” he smiled with a small shrug.

“Ha!” He laughed, “What would my middle school self think about this?” He repeated, looking down in thought, “Um, he’d probably be pumped because this probably would be the road to the cool table,” he nodded slightly, looking at the camera, “But to be honest, he’s been pumped for a while now,” he joked, raising an eyebrow with a soft smirk on his lips.

“First crush?” Chris repeated in the video, “Was probably-maybe, like, Winnie Cooper,” he answered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry but I can tell you my last crush in a heartbeat only because I like to brag about the fact that I married my crush,” he teased, a small smirk on his face.

“My closest friends are my wife and friends that I’ve grown up with–kids that I’ve known since I was, eight, nine years old. That’s-That’s the beauty of my youth, that a lot of kids that I grew up with kind of stayed around Massachussets and all are still incredibly tight. We’re all married and have kids, or,” he pointed at himself, “Kid in my case. My-just my little buddy, River.”

About 4 minutes into the interview, and as Chris was talking about getting to play and enjoy Captain America, a loud baby cooing sound was heard, interrupting Chris before he laughed, “Riv has a lot to say about Captain America,” he said, looking away from the camera and towards you and his son who was in your arms, a smile on his face as he stared at Chris, “Hey, buddy, hey, hey,” Chris cooed, seeming to try to stop himself from standing up and walking towards his family.

5 minutes into the interview, Chris was excited as he replied to the interviewer’s question.

“Bobby, I love woodworking,” he answered, “I made River’s baby cot,” he said, “And I’m working on making a rocking chair for my wife and I. It’s-It’s actually coming along nicely. It’s starting to look great.”

“The amount of ones I post are dwarfed by the amount of ones I have on my phone,” Chris said as he talked about pictures he had of Dodger, 7 minutes into the video, “It’s been especially more and more after we had River because Dodger is like-he’s like a big brother now. He’s protective of River, he’s always sitting by his cot, or by Y/N and I when we’re with him. He’s always alerting us when River wakes up because-I know we're lucky but River hardly cries when he wakes up. Ever since he started getting more vocal, he’s been babbling and sort of-sort of singing, that’s what I say,” he pointed at himself with a smile, “So Dodger is always alerting us when that happens, like hey, baby is awake. Get him now!”

“Yeah, our cat, Pam has been very gentle with River,” Chris said, answering a question that viewers didn’t hear, “I think I say this all the time but she actually hates me so–my wife is rolling her eyes right now,” he laughed, “It’s true! It’s true! But I’m just glad that hatred wasn’t extended to our son.”

It was almost 8 minutes into the video when Chris got sentimental.

“My wife, my son,” he began, “Seeing them happy, making them proud, that’s absolutely something I want. I think-I think, you know, I hit the lottery with my family,” he smiled to himself, putting both hands together as he sat comfortably, “You know, the love I found, the love we share, it’s something that’s also through my experience of long fourty-one years has also rang true that those things are the most important, so yeah. I-I love the idea of tradition, of ceremony, and I had the best one I can ever dream of with my wife. So, yeah, I’m-I’m really lucky I get to share my life with someone so incredible and now that we have River, the idea of recreating that is just-I love that.”

By the end of the 10-minute interview, Chris smiled, “I feel a deep sense of contentment with my life and my career, and as a result I think that takes a lot of the weird pressure off and now that my family and I are spending this time away from everything, I’m really excited for my life as a dad. It’s a new journey, I have an incredible partner who’s walking through it with me,” he pointed slightly to the side towards where you were sitting beside the videographer and away from the camera with a proud smile on your face that only the people in the room could see, “An adorable son, my new buddy,” Chris smiled, “I’ve settled into a nicer phase where I’m just happy being at home.”

#planet evans #planet evans universe #pe blurb #pe social media #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff imagine #chris evans fanfiction

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undying-love · 4 months

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A small rant

I still don't understand why so many people believe that it was one-sided on John's part. Paul is the one who has said the most insane things about John, even more than the other way around: "He was a delicous boy, a delicious broth of a boy", "I came to love his beery breath. And I loved John", "When I saw him I thought "He looks good, I wouldn't mind being in a group with him", "John had beautiful hands", "In the film [Get Back], there he is in a massive close-up. I can study everything about him", "I'm often thinking of him. I dream of him" , "If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be John's", "I would hug him forever because that's the depth of my feeling for him", "Here Today is a love song to John", "He is always there in my being...in my soul", "It's cute for me to think of me and John squeezed together in a little single bed". Not to mention the fact that he has a calendar with photos of John, a 6 FOOT TALL picture of him and John, buys and collects drawings and writings made by John and puts them on his wall, and even GOT MARRIED on John's birthday. There must be a reason why he was called "John's princess".

INSANE

#mclennon #I had to talk about this #off my chest #Paul is insane #They were equally obsessed with each other

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coqxettee · 6 months

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Coquette Winter Gift Guide:

🎀 Gift ideas for yourself or your friends who love the Coquette aesthetic:

Clothes/Fashion:

1. Anything from Brandy Melville (Amara heart lace pyjamas)

2. Bailey bow uggs or normal uggs

3. Ralph Lauren sweaters

4. A ballet wrap

5. Floral pyjama sets, Cami’s & Long sleeve shirts

6. Grandma cardigans

7. A cable knit sweater

8. Legwarmers/pretty tights

9. A pair of cute gloves

10. ANY clothing from “Mymummadeit”

11. ANY clothing from “Favourite child collective”

12. Any clothing from the “Cutey” section on Romwe

13. A dress/anything from “Selkie”

14. Any slogan tee’s / baby tee’s from small businesses and independent brands

15. Victoria secret Pyjamas/Robe

16. Pink puffa coat

17. Tiffany & co earrings or necklace

18. The “Mymummadeit” puffa bag

19. Kate spade heart bag/Vivienne Westwood one or just a heart purse

20. A printed tote bag

21. Ted baker bags/cosmetic bags

22. Any dresses from - Cider, Motel rocks, Pretty little thing, Oh polly

23. A ballet skirt

24. ECOSUSI summer garden romance bags

25. A cape/fur shaul//A glam doll coat

26. Vintage nightgowns/nightwear

27. Cute earmuffs & things to decorate them with

28. Mary Janes & frilly ankle socks

Beauty:

29. Any products from “Glossier”

30. Dior (addict) makeup products (Lip oil’s, Blush, lip balm,

31. Anything from “Flowerknows” “Etude house” “Too faced” or “Charlotte Tilbury” “C beauty mall products”

32. Chanel lipstick

33. A quilted floral coquette makeup bag

34. W7 Tinted kiss lip oil

35. Miss Dior perfume

36. Chanel mamoiselle perfume

37. Any of the Ariana Grande perfumes/body sprays

38. Penhaligons “The favourite”

39. Oriana “Parfums de Marly”

40. Victoria secret body sprays

41. Paul & Joe Cinamoroll collection

Homeware:

42. The Amazon floral bedsheets

43. A heart mirror

44. Love shack fancy homeware items

45. Anything from Paris Hilton’s new cookery line

46. A ballerina/music box jewellery box

47. Pink/Vanilla Yankee candles

48. FreePrints photos to make a wall collage

49. Roccoco style picture frames

50. An angel tray dish

51. Fake flowers

52. Pretty Cushions / A large throw fluffy blanket,

53. Caroline medium jewellery case

54. Fake cake jewellery boxes

55. Tall candles and a candle holder

56. Posters of celebrity’s/artists etc

57. Any pretty art that can be displayed/put into frames

Self care:

58. Spa headbands, and wrist bands (Kylie skin headband)

59. Inn is free skincare products

60. Philosophy shower and skin products

61. Chanel eye patches

62. Mulberry silk eye mask (pink)

63. Look fantastic heartless hair curlers

64. Dior prestige skin products and body lotions

65. Baylis & Harding products

66. Angel tangle brush

67. Charlotte Tilbury skincare gift sets

68. Elasti - cream

69. Embellished claw clips

70. Sol de Janerio body cream

71. Mugs, hand warmers, face masks, lip scrubs

Miscellaneous: ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

72. AirPod max

73. Wildflower phone cases & airpod cases

74. A pink waterbottle (Stanley or Lululemon)

75. Lana del rey vinyls

76. Coquette notebooks

77. Dior & Chanel fashion books

78. My year of rest and relaxation

79. The seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo

80. Jellycats

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

I hope this helped you think of some ideas of things you want to ask or get someone for Christmas 🎀✨🎄

Merry Pinkmas coquette doves

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

#baby pink #coquette #coquette aesthetic #lana del rey #girly pink #girly #girly aesthetic #girly girl #girly kei #girly stuff #coquette christmas #pinkmas #christmas

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britany1997 · 1 year

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Hot Vampires In Your Area

Hope y’all enjoy the long awaited third and final part to Vampires Everywhere, sorry it took me so long lol

Vampires Everywhere, Hot Vampires In Your Area

Reblog & comment to support my writing💕

Poly! Lost boys x GN Vampire Reader

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, readers sex not mentioned, riding, biting, mentions of anal sex, slight daddy kink (Dwayne is daddy always), riding, voyeurism, blow job, some aftercare

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

The boys clamored down into their cave with you in tow. The bike ride home had reinvigorated your spirits, and you were already attached to Marko’s lips, kissing him passionately.

He moaned into your mouth as you bit his lip and pulled. They liked to play rough, but so did you.

He growled, pushing you up against the cave wall and pressing sloppy kisses down your jaw and the skin of your neck. You leaned your head back against the wall and smiled blissfully as your hands found their place in his hair.

You pulled him from your neck, tilting his face till his eyes were locked on your own. You stared into his intimately, taking in the sight of his blown pupils and elongated fangs.

If that wasn’t enough proof of his arousal, the pressing against your thigh certainly was. You smirked, before reattaching your lips to his.

They way they wanted you was intoxicating. They permeated through your thoughts, and clouded your mind with visions of them and the pleasure they gave you. You’d never felt so desirable.

“Ahem.”

The sound of a throat being cleared pulled you from your daze as both your head and Marko’s snapped to an impatient Paul, his arms crossed and his pants embarrassingly tight. He was tapping his foot with his eyebrow raised.

You shouldn’t have, but the sight prompted a soft laugh to fall from your lips. The blond boy’s desperation for you did terrible things for your ego.

Paul pouted in reply, a red tinge springing to his cheeks.

Marko rolled his eyes as you traded his arms for Paul’s. “Didn’t mean it like that Paulie,” you assured as you kissed him softly and stroked his cheeks.

“Thought you forgot about me baby,” his pout deepened as his hands snaked around to the small of your back, pulling you into his chest,

David and Dwayne looked on in amusement as Paul dialed up his dramatics.

“Dontcha want me baby?” he gave you his best puppy dog eyes, “I want you, I need you baby. please?”

You stared into his watery baby blues, god he was pretty, “but I promised David Paulie, what about him?”

David snorted from his place on the couch, prompting your gaze to shift to his. He smirked, “let me watch Paulie wreck you babe, then, when you’re all whimpery and shaky…” he chuckled to himself at the lustful expression you wore, “then I’ll give you the best night of your eternal life.” He winked.

God he was smug. You loved it.

“Make a mess Paulie,” David teased.

The wind was knocked out of you as the excited blond vampire wrapped his hands around your legs and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you in the direction is his bedroom, the other boys hot on his heels.

Paul set you down on the bed and rid himself of his clothes frantically. You probably would have chuckled to yourself at his excitement, if you hadn’t been hypothesized by the sight of his pretty cock.

You bit your lip and looked up, only to be met with his smirking face. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue into your mouth and exploring you.

As Paul began to kiss down your chest, you scanned the room, moaning softly at the sight of the other boys.

While David sat in Paul’s ratty bean bag, stroking himself, Marko and Dwayne were much less patient.

The picture of Marko pressed against the wall of the cave while Dwayne slid in and out of him, combined with Paul’s teeth sucking mark after mark into your skin forced a low moan from your throat.

Paul squeezed your thigh roughly. You gasped and your head turned towards him. “Eyes on me baby,” he growled as he pushed into you slowly.

You threw your head back in ecstasy at the stretch of him. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he held you in his lap.

Paul caged his arms around you pressing you against his chest as he thrust up into you roughly, pulling moans and gasps from your lips.

His fangs began to elongate as his eyes flashed yellow. “Wanted to keep you ya know?” he growled. “The boys were sooo hungry, but I wanted ya, from the moment I saw you in Max’s store I wanted to have you so bad. But I don’t make the choices round here, thought it was a damn waste too.”

You whimpered as you bounced in his lap.

“But now you’re mine baby, and I am gonna keep you.” He squeezed your hips roughly, making you gasp, “you’re ours.”

You moaned at his words as you felt yourself quickly approaching your orgasm.

He reached down to stroke you roughly. “Say it. Say you’re ours while you cum for me baby. Say you belong to us.”

“I’m yours! I’m all yours,” you screamed in pleasure as you came all over him,

He growled before leaning forward and sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he spilled into you. He pulled back, kissing and licking at the mark he’d placed on you. “Ours. All ours.”

You whimpered as you came down from your high and pondered his words. Your tough exterior had melted into a puddle in Paul’s arms. From that moment your hands met in Max’s video store, you were theirs. You just hadn’t known it then.

Paul laid you back on the bed and kissed you softly. “You ok?” he asked as he stroked your cheek. You nodded and smiled as you leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.

He smiled as he returned your affections.

You were pulled from the sweet moment with Paul by the sound of Dwayne’s grunting as he continued to push into Marko. You bit your lip.

The cries and moans that fell from Marko’s lips confirmed that Dwayne hadn’t been lying when he’d told you that all the boys called him daddy.

Your cheeks flushed as David came to your side on the bed, cock in one hand as the other pulled you to his mouth by the back of your head. You whimpered into the kiss.

Paul kissed and bit at your shoulder on your other side, reaching down to part your thighs and stroke softly.

David pulled away to suck on your earlobe and your gaze shifted back to Marko and Dwayne.

Marko screamed daddy as Dwayne finished inside him. Marko pressed against the wall, and Dwayne pressed into him to the hilt. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. The boys to your side, the boys in front of you, it was almost too much.

David laughed to himself as his lips moved to the shell of your ear. “Does that turn you on babe? Dwayne’s a big boy isn’t he?” you whimpered, “do you wish that was you baby? Want to feel him again?” You fought back another moan.

David smirked, “but you already had him tonight didn’t you baby, don’t want to be greedy do you?”

You gasped, your head snapping to face his, “‘m not greedy,” you pouted.

He mock pouted in reply, “really? Well I am, get on your knees for me baby?”

You nodded before turning to give Paul one last kiss. You sat on your knees while David’s stroked himself in front of your face. He wasn’t as long as Paul, but he was thicker, and he had a vein that stretched all across the length of him. The sight made you salivate.

“You gonna be good for me babe? Don’t like brats.”

You smirked up at him, “liar,” you whispered.

He returned your smirk, “just be good,” he commanded as he pulled your face forward.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue. You moaned as David moved your head forward, pressing more of him into your mouth.

“Such a dirty mouth for such a nice face baby, anyone else get to see you like this?”

You gently shook your head no, before you ran your tongue along his vein, prompting a low growl to fall from his mouth. You smiled with your mouth full, as he continued to move your head back and forth.

“Bein so good baby,” David praised, “just let me take what I want from you.”

You hollowed out your cheeks, totally content to let him use you.

When David’s movements became less and less frequent, and his breathing grew heavy, you leaned forward to take as much of him into your mouth as you could. You could feel him grazing the back of your throat, causing a muffled moan to spring from your lips.

Your attentions pushed him over the edge, but before he could come down your throat, he pulled out to paint your face.

Your hand came up to wipe cum from your nose. “Good aim,” you joked.

He laughed, “don’t worry baby, we’ll clean you up real nice. Dwayne,” he ordered, snapping for him.

He turned back to you, “have a good night?” David asked, eyebrow raised.

“Best yet,” you admitted.

He smiled and pulled you in for a kiss, you moaned into his mouth as you realized he could taste himself on your lips.

When you pulled away from David, Dwayne sat beside you with a wet washcloth, wiping your face and pulling you into his lap.

You blushed, “Dwayne, thank you…I’m uh,” you contemplated how to phrase your next words.

Thankfully you didn’t need to say anything at all. “I know baby,” he assured you, “night’s nearly over anyway, but we’ll have plenty more together yeah?” He asked as he held you in his lap.

You smiled as the four of them looked at you expectantly, “yeah,” you promised as you nodded off, pressed against Dwayne’s chest.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

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matttgirlies · 21 days

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Matt & Me 🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, i think thats all

all of the songs and celebrities mentioned in here are from the time periods this was written if you are confused🩷

Chapter 1

It was 1956. I was living with my family at the Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas, where my father, then Captain, Joseph Paul y/ln, a career officer, was stationed. He came home late for dinner one evening and handed me a record album.

“I don’t know what this Matt guy is all about,” he said, “but he must be something special. I stood in line with half the Air Force at the PX to get this for you; everybody wants it.”

I put the record on the hi-fi and heard the rocking music of “Blue Suede Shoes.” The album was titled Matt Sturniolo. It was his first.

Like almost every other kid in America, I liked Matt but not as fanatically as many of my girl friends at Del Valley Junior High. They all had Matt T-shirts and Matt hats and Matt socks and even lipstick in colors with names like Hound Dog Orange and Heartbreak Pink referencing names of his songs. Matt was everywhere, on bubblegum cards and Bermuda shorts, on diaries and wallets and pictures that glowed in the dark. The boys at school began trying to look like him, with their fluffy hair and turned up collars.

One girl was so crazy about him that she was running his local fan club. She said I could join for twenty-five cents, the price of a book she’d ordered for me by mail. When I received it, I was shocked to see a picture of Matt signing the bare chests of a couple of girls, at that time an unheard-of act.

Then I saw him on television on Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey’s Stage Show. He was sexy and handsome, with his deep brooding eyes, pouty lips, and crooked smile. He strutted out to the microphone, spread his legs, leaned back, and strummed his guitar. Then he began singing with such confidence, moving his body with unbridled sexuality. Despite myself, I was attracted.

Some members of his adult audience were less enthusiastic. Soon his performances were labeled obscene. My mother stated emphatically that he was “a bad influence for teenage girls. He arouses things in them that shouldn’t be aroused. If there’s ever a mothers’ march against Matt Sturniolo, I’ll be the first in line.”

But I’d heard that despite all of his stage antics and lustful, tough-guy looks, Matt came from a strict Southern Christian background. He was a country boy who didn’t smoke or drink, who loved and honored his parents, and who addressed all adults as “sir” or “ma’am.”

I was an Air Force child, a shy, pretty little girl, unhappily accustomed to moving from base to base every two or three years. By the time I was eleven, I had lived in six different cities and, fearful of not being accepted, I either kept to myself or waited for someone to befriend me. I found it especially difficult entering a new school in the middle of the year, when cliques had already been established and newcomers were considered outsiders.

Small and petite, with long y/hc hair, y/ec eyes, and an upturned nose, I was always stared at by the other students. At first girls would see me as a rival, afraid I’d take their boyfriends away. I seemed to feel more comfortable with boys—and they were usually friendlier.

People always said I was the prettiest girl in school, but I never felt that way. I was skinny, practically scrawny, and even if I was as cute, as people said, I wanted to have more than just good looks. Only with my family did I really feel totally protected and loved. Close and supportive, they provided my stability.

A photographer’s model before her marriage, my mother was totally devoted to her family. As the oldest, it was my responsibility to help her with the kids. After me, there were Don, four years younger, and Michelle, my only sister, who was five years younger than Don. Jeff and the twins, Tim and Tom, hadn’t yet been born.

My mother was too shy to talk about the facts of life, so my sex education came in school, when I was in the sixth grade. Some kids were passing around a book that looked like the Bible from the outside, but when you opened it, there were pictures of men making love to women, and women making love to each other.

My body was changing and stirring with new feelings. I’d gotten looks from boys at school, and once a picture of me in a tight turtleneck sweater was stolen from the school bulletin board. Yet I was still a child, embarrassed about my own sexuality. I fantasized endlessly about French-kissing, but when my friends who hung around our house played spin the bottle, it would take me half an hour to let a boy kiss my pursed lips.

My strong, handsome father was the center of our world. He was a hard worker who had earned his degree in Business Administration at University of Texas. At home he ran a tight ship. He was a firm believer in discipline and responsibility, and he and I frequently knocked heads. When I became a cheerleader at thirteen, it was all I could do to convince him to let me go to out-of-town games. Other times no amount of crying, pleading, or appealing to my mother would change his mind. When he laid down the law, that was that.

I managed to get around him occasionally. When he refused to let me wear a tight skirt, I joined the Girl Scouts specifically so I could wear their tight uniform.

My parents were survivors. Although they often had to struggle financially, we children were the last to feel it. When I was a little girl my mother sewed pretty tablecloths to cover the orange crates that we used as end tables. Rather than do without, we made the best of what we had.

Dinner was strictly group participation: Mother cooked, one of us set the table, and the rest cleaned up. Nobody got away with anything, but we were very supportive of one another. I felt fortunate to have a close-knit family.

Going through old albums of family photographs showing my parents when they were young fascinated me. I was curious about the past. World War II intrigued me, especially since my father had fought with the Marines on Okinawa. He looked handsome in his uniform—you could tell he was posing for my mother—but somehow his smile looked out of place, especially when you realized where he was. When I read the note on the back of the picture about how much he missed my mother, my eyes filled with tears.

While rummaging through the family keepsakes I came upon a small wooden box. Inside was a carefully folded American flag, the kind that I knew was given to servicemen’s widows. Also inside the box was a picture of my mother with her arm around a strange man and, sitting on her lap, an infant. On the back of the photo was inscribed “Mommy, Daddy, y/n.” I had discovered a family secret.

Feeling betrayed, I ran to phone my mother, who was at a party nearby. Within minutes I was in her arms, crying as she calmed me and explained that when I was six months old, my real father, Lieutenant James Wagner, a handsome Navy pilot, had been killed in a plane crash while returning home on leave. Two and a half years later, she married Paul y/ln, who adopted me and had always loved me as his own.

Mother suggested I keep my discovery from the other children. She felt it would endanger our family closeness, though when it did become known, it had no effect on our feelings for one another. She gave me a gold locket that my father had given her. I cherished that locket and wore it for years and fantasized that my father died a great hero. In times of emotional pain and loneliness he would become my guardian angel.

By the end of the year, I’d been nominated to run for Queen of Del Valley Junior High. This was my first taste of politics and competition and it was especially trying because I was running against Millie Collins, my best friend.

We each had a campaign manager introducing us as we went from house to house knocking on doors. My manager tried to talk each person into voting for me and donating a penny or more per vote to a school fund. The nominee who collected the most money won. I was sure that this competition would jeopardize my friendship with Millie, which was more important to me than winning. I considered quitting but felt I couldn’t let my parents or my supporters down. While my mother was out looking for a dress for me to wear to the coronation, my dad kept reminding me to memorize an acceptance speech. I kept putting it off, certain I was going to lose.

It was the last day of the campaign, and a rumor began circulating that Millie’s grandparents had put in a hundred-dollar bill for their vote. My parents were disappointed; there was no way that they could afford to match that much money and even if they could, they objected on principle.

The night they announced the winner, I was all dressed up in a new turquoise blue, strapless tulle net formal that itched so badly I couldn’t wait to take it off. I sat beside Millie on the dais in the large school auditorium. I could see my parents with happy, confident looks on their faces though I was sure they were going to be disheartened. Then the principal walked up to the podium.

“And now,” she said, hesitating to heighten the suspense, “is the moment you’ve all been waiting for . . . the culmination of a month of campaigning by our two lovely contestants: y/n y/ln . . .” All eyes turned toward me. I blushed and glanced at Millie. “ . . . and Millie Collins.” Our eyes locked for a brief, tense moment.

“The new Queen of Del Valley Junior High is . . .” A drum roll sounded. “ . . . y/n y/ln.”

The audience applauded wildly. I was in shock. Called up to the stage to give my speech, I had none. Sure that I was going to lose, I’d never even bothered to write one. I walked, trembling, to the podium, then looked out at the crowded auditorium. All I could see was my father’s face, growing more disappointed as he realized I had nothing to say. When I finally spoke, it was to apologize.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m not prepared to give a speech, as I did not expect to win. But thank you very much for voting for me. I’ll do my very best.” And then, looking at my father, I added, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

I was surprised as the audience graciously applauded, but I still had to face my father and hear him say, “I told you so.”

Being elected Queen was a bittersweet victory, because the closeness that Millie and I once shared was restrained. Still, to me that crown symbolized a wonderful, unfamiliar feeling: acceptance.

My newfound tranquility ended abruptly when my father announced that he was being transferred to Wiesbaden, West Germany.

I was crushed. Germany was the other side of the world. All my fears returned. My first thought was, What am I going to do about my friends? I turned to my mother, who was sympathetic and reminded me that we were in the Air Force and moving was an unavoidable part of our lives.

I finished junior high school, my mother gave birth to baby Jeff, and we said our goodbyes to neighbors and good friends. Everyone promised to write or call, but remembering past promises I knew better. My friend Stephanie jokingly told me that Matt Sturniolo was stationed in Bad Neuheim, West Germany. “Do you believe it? You’re going to be in the same country as Matt Sturniolo,” she said. We looked at a map and found that Bad Neuheim was close to Wiesbaden. I said back, “I’m going over there to meet Matt.” We both laughed, hugged each other, and said goodbye.

West Germany

The fifteen-hour flight to West Germany seemed interminable, but finally we arrived in the beautiful old city of Wiesbaden, headquarters of the U.S. Air Force in Europe. There we checked into the Helene Hotel, a massive and venerable building on the main thoroughfare. After three months, hotel living became too expensive and we began looking for a place to rent.

We felt lucky to find a large apartment in a vintage building constructed long before World War I. Soon after we moved in, we noticed that all the other apartments were rented to single girls. These Fräuleins walked around all day long in robes and negligees, and at night they were dressed to kill. Once we learned a little German, we realized that, although the pension was very discreet, we were living in a brothel.

Moving was out of the question—housing was too scarce—but the location did little to help me to adjust. Not only was I isolated from other American families, but there was the language barrier. I was accustomed to changing schools frequently, but a foreign country posed altogether new problems, principally that I couldn’t share my thoughts. I began to feel that my life had stopped dead in its tracks.

September came and with it, school. Once again I was the new girl. I was no longer popular and secure as I’d been at Del.

There was a place called the Eagles Club, where American service families went for dinner and entertainment. It was within walking distance of the pension and soon proved an important discovery for me. Every day after school, I’d go to the snack bar there and listen to the jukebox and write letters to my friends back home in Austin, telling them how much I missed them. Drowning in tears, I’d spend my weekly allowance playing the songs that were very popular back in the States—Frankie Avalon’s “Venus” and the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do Is Dream.”

One warm summer afternoon, I was sitting with my brother Don when I noticed a handsome man in his twenties staring at me. I’d seen him watching me before, but I’d never paid any attention to him. This time, he stood up and walked toward me. He introduced himself as Steven Wright and asked my name.

“y/n y/ln,” I said, immediately suspicious; he was much older than me.

He asked where in the States I came from, how I liked Germany, and if I liked Matt Sturniolo.

“Of course,” I said, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’m a good friend of his. My wife and I go to his house quite often. How would you like to join us one evening?”

Unprepared for such an extraordinary invitation, I grew even more skeptical and guarded. I told him I’d have to ask my parents. Over the course of the next two weeks, Steven met my parents and my father checked out his credentials. Steven was also in the Air Force and it turned out that my father knew his commanding officer. That seemed to break the ice between them. Steven assured Dad that I’d be well chaperoned when we visited Matt, who lived off base in a house in Bad Nauheim.

On the appointed night I tore through my closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit. Nothing seemed dressy enough for meeting Matt Sturniolo. I settled on a navy and white sailor dress and white socks and shoes. Surveying myself in the mirror, I thought I looked cute, but being only fourteen, I didn’t think I’d make any kind of impression on Matt.

Eight o’clock finally arrived, and so did Steven Wright and his attractive wife, Carole. Anxious, I hardly spoke to either of them during the forty-five-minute drive. We entered the small town of Bad Nauheim, with its narrow cobblestone streets and plain, old-fashioned houses, and I kept looking around for what I assumed would be Matt’s huge mansion. Instead Steven pulled up to an ordinary-looking three-story house surrounded by a white picket fence.

There was a sign on the gate in German, which translated as: autographs between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. only. Even though it was after eight o’clock, a large group of friendly German girls waited around expectantly. When I asked Steven about them, he explained that there were always large groups of fans outside the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt.

I followed Steven through the gate and up the short pathway to the door. We were welcomed by James Sturniolo, Matt’s father, a tall, gray-haired, attractive man, who led us down a long hallway to the living room, from which I could hear Brenda Lee on the record player, singing “Sweet Nothin’s.”

The plain, almost drab living room was filled with people, but I spotted Matt immediately. He was handsomer than he appeared in films, younger and more vulnerable-looking with his haircut. He was in civilian clothes, a bright red sweater and tan slacks, and he was sitting with one leg swung over the arm of a large overstuffed chair, with a cigar dangling from his lips.

As Steven led me over to him, Matt stood up and smiled. “Well,” he said. “What have we here?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just kept staring at him.

“Matt,” Steven said, “this is y/n y/ln. The girl I told you about.”

We shook hands and he said, “Hi, I’m Matt Sturniolo,” but then there was a silence between us until Matt asked me to sit down beside him, and Steven drifted off.

“So,” Matt said. “Do you go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, about a junior or senior in high school?”

I blushed and said nothing, not willing to reveal that I was only in the ninth grade.

“Well,” he persisted.

“Ninth.”

Matt looked confused. “Ninth what?”

“Grade,” I whispered.

“Ninth grade,” he said and started laughing. “Why, you’re just a baby.”

“Thanks,” I said curtly. Not even Matt Sturniolo had the right to say that to me.

“Well. Seems the little girl has spunk,” he said, laughing again, amused by my response. He gave me that charming smile of his, and all my resentment just melted away.

We made small talk for a while longer. Then Matt got up and walked over to the piano and sat down. The room suddenly grew silent. Everyone’s eyes were focused on him as he began to entertain us.

He sang “Rags to Riches” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and then with his friends singing harmony, “End of the Rainbow.” He also did a Jerry Lee Lewis impersonation, pounding the keys so hard that a glass of water he’d set on the piano began sliding off. When Matt caught it without missing a beat of the song, everyone laughed and applauded except me. I was nervous. I glanced around the room and saw an intimidating life-size poster of a half-nude model on the wall. She was the last person I wanted to see, with her fulsome body, pouting lips, and wild mane of tousled hair. Imagining Matt’s taste in women, I felt very young and out of place.

I glanced up and saw Matt trying to get my attention. I noticed that the less response I showed, the more he began singing just for me. I couldn’t believe that Matt Sturniolo was trying to impress me.

Later, he asked me to come into the kitchen, where he introduced me to his grandmother, Minnie Mae Sturniolo, who stood by the stove, frying a huge pan of bacon. As we sat down at the table, I told Matt I wasn’t hungry. Actually I was too nervous to eat.

“You’re the first girl I’ve met from the States in a long time,” Matt said, as he began devouring the first of five gigantic bacon sandwiches, each one smothered with mustard. “Who are the kids listening to?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding?” I said. “Everyone listens to you.”

Matt seemed unconvinced. He asked me a lot of questions about Fabian and Ricky Nelson. He told me he was worried about how his fans would accept him when he returned to the States. Since he’d been away, he hadn’t made any public appearances or movies, although he’d had five hit singles, all recorded before he’d left.

It felt like we’d just begun talking when Steven came in and pointed to his watch. I had dreaded that moment; the evening had gone so fast. It seemed I had just arrived and now I was being hurried away. Matt and I had just started to get to know each other. I felt like Cinderella, knowing that when my curfew came, all this magic would end. I was surprised when Matt asked Steven if I could possibly stay longer. When Steven explained the agreement with my father, Matt casually suggested that maybe I could come by again. Though I wanted to more than anything in the world, I didn’t really believe it would happen.

a/n - thoughts on this story so far? all the fashion and technology and things is still based in the time period its set in but i promise it gets better as the story goes on! i know the age gap is crazy but back in the day it was normal and its the age gap in Priscilla’s book so i just stuck with it. I in no way support this at all🎀

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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moonystoes · 22 days

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Prom date - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students) pt.3

Summary: It's the day you have been waiting for, except you didn't spend it with your date.

Warning: slight homophobia and bullying (it's paul and his minions smh), too much yap guys im sorry, no kissing nothing it's KILLING ME TOO OKAY? unrealistic corny shit but they're 14 in 2012.

wc: 7.799k

a/n: hey y'all... did you miss me? i want to apologize for this chapter because it's yap and a mess to be honest. but it has been a while since the last time i wrote. i also want to say sorry for the people that were waiting...again, i'm still pretty new to writing, and if you have any advice please help me out!!

Here: part 1 part 2

Wednesday, 19th of december 2012

You were always excited about the idea of prom. The makeup, the dress, the dance, the romantic glances, and obviously the kiss that would be your first. But now the only thing that's on your mind was Elisa.

In these two days, Elisa has been acting slightly differently around you than before. She would give you a small nod of acknowledgement with a small smile or the usual frown. Yet, it still seemed like there was a barrier between the both of you, and talking to each other still felt impossible.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror making sure your ‘picture-smile’ looks good. Sam was next to you, holding a large pink make-up palette with an eyeshadow brush in her other hand.

You hated sleeping in class for one reason, and it's your silly mouth. Whenever you wake up you end up saying something stupid. And based on the way Elisa was looking at you, you knew you had said something dumb at the nurse office that day.

You had tried everything in your power to remember what you said, but nothing had worked.

“Girl it's not that serious, you're acting as if you confessed your love or something.” Sam groaned out, waving the pink powdered brush around. Your eyes widened and turned to look at her, “Sam! Don't say that, she's a girl!”

“So?” She shrugged, dabbing a glittery shade on your eyelids.

“So? You know so. Girls shouldn't like girls like that, don't be stupid.” You frowned, closing your eyes so she can work on your eyelids again.

“Why not? I don’t give a shit.” Sam looked away from your eyelids and stepped away to look at you with a confused glance. Both of you have never discussed anything like this, but she still felt offended thinking that you thought she was against it.

Silence filled the room, your hands playing around with the cheap acrylic nails you glued on. “Really?” You whispered.

“Pfft, yeah. Who cares? We're in highschool now. At least we're not doing drugs.” She laughed. She started tapping a different shade to your eyes, while humming to the song playing on her phone.

“Well, the government does.” You shrugged, your silky straightened hair moving around your shoulder. You felt Sam stop tapping your eyes before she asks, “the government does what?”

“Care. Same sex marriage isn't allowed, that's what I meant.”

“Wait, you searched up about that?” Sam accused you as she stepped away again from your face to glance at you. You opened your eyes in shock as you moved the hair away from your face, “what! No…I just assumed that.”

Sam's face dropped as she gave you a disappointed glance, but your embarrassment made you look down to your sweatpants. You didn't want to admit to Sam that you've searched about it, and you also would kill yourself if she finds out about the Quora comment you made.

Sam has already suspected something weird about you this whole school semester, and at first she thought it was about how stressful school is. But she noticed that whenever she talks about Elisa to you, you'd look away and try to make the conversations shorter. What made her realize what's going on is whenever Elisa walks past you, you'd look at her hoping for some reaction. A smile, a nod, even just a glance, you've always hoped Elisa would acknowledge you.

It was when the both of you were sitting at lunch with your two other friends when you brought up her nonchalant responses to you. Lucia and Suzan looked at you confusingly, responding with a ‘she jokes and is really friendly to me’.

Usually you wouldn't care, saying that it's not an obligation to like every person in school and you'd respect her friendships. But when it came to Elisa, you would complain about it everyday to her.

She hoped that you'd speak to her about your newfound crush on Elisa, but you'd always swerve and act dumb whenever she brings Elisa up. However, she understands it's very difficult to come out, especially when you still don't even know what you are in the first place.

So she shrugged and decided to apply blush around your cheeks. After that, you stood and wore your floral dress, avoiding Sam's eyes.

Sam has been talking a little too much, about her new favorite show, the side character she's obsessing over, her new favorite snack, and many things she started blabbering about. When Sam talks too much, it means she's either hiding something from you or is trying to distract you. Both conclusions are awful, so you shook her off and started wearing your jewelry.

Sam's loud mouth slowed down as you stared at your complete reflection. She pulled your hand to sit on the bed before you left to the venue. She held into it and said, “If Paul doesn't treat you well, it doesn't matter okay? You're there to experience your first prom, not your first date with Paul.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands and sighed, feeling like she knew something you don’t. Did Paul say he would ditch me? Does she know about that? She continued, “Besides, you look too good. If he treats you badly, you can literally get anyone else.”

You huffed and looked away from her, “Yeah like who?”

“Every guy. Literally,” She said in a duh tone. She stayed quiet for a second before adding, “probably Elisa too if what they say is true.”

You looked up to look at Sam, “no way, I'm not her type.”

“And how would you know her type?”

You stayed silent and awkwardly shrugged as you looked down. “Amy's probably her type, just like everyone else.”

Sam sighed loudly and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder, “I wish you can see yourself the way these boys do. You're smart, gorgeous, kind, hardworking, and so many more. Amy is cute, yeah… but she's not the whole package.”

You bit your lip trying to suppress your smile,and leaned into her touch. “Thanks, I'll let you know what happens when I come back.”

Sam nodded and stood up, realizing that you're heading out right now. “Is he coming now?”

You turned and looked at her, “who?”

Sam's stomach sank when she realized the situation, she sighed loudly, “oh my God are you actually telling me he's not even taking you there.”

Giving her a forced smile, you stood up and wore your heels. “I don't care about him at this point. I feel like…my crush on him was never real you know. Like… I was attached to the hope of us being close like how we were when we were kids, I wasn't actually hoping for a relationship with him,” you exhaled calmly, “I just want to experience prom, I don't care about the romance part, especially not with him anymore.”

Sam was glad that you were officially over Paul. She knew he wouldn't be a great partner and she wanted what's best for you. But she knew that there was something else. Because for you to get over someone, you'd have to be distracted enough to forget about them. That's how you are.

Sam walked you to the car outside, your parents both standing with a camera to take pictures. You were glad they didn't know about American prom traditions, because it is embarrassing how Paul isn't here to take pictures with you as well as the corsage and flowers.

After the awkward posing, your father got into the car and dropped you off at the huge venue the school rented for today. As you stepped out of the car, fear started brewing in you. You were late because of the long lectures from your parents so the building was filling up already and you were the type of person who would come first to everything.

You hoped you would not find Paul as you took a deep breath and entered the poorly lit room. It was filled with blue decorations, blue foil curtains around the walls and entrance, blue balloons, blue flowers, blue ceilings, everything was either blue or white except the yellow lamps that created a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.

“Hey you're here!” A sudden noise came from behind you, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You turned immediately, finding Paul wearing a classic white and black suit and a red tie. You gave him a fake smile and replied, “yeah I just came here, I hope you're not mad that I'm a bit late.”

Paul gave you a bright smile, the one that makes your anger and disappointment in him slightly fade away, “don't worry, I didn't even notice you weren't with me anyways!”

He grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the tables not realizing the face drop in your face. You didn't know if you should feel offended or just cry, your stomach dropping as you felt slightly sick.

“Hey guys, my date is here.” He pointed at you, introducing you to his friend group. You've known them, they were all in your class and you've talked to them previously.

Adam glanced at you and waved, “you didn't tell us it's y/n!” You looked away from them, trying to hold in your frustration and disappointment. He called you his date and didn't bother to introduce you by your name, but it's okay because you ARE his date. He just called you what you are… you can't get mad at that.

But he didn't even tell them it was you? So he hid the fact he asked you out for the past 2 weeks? You remained facing away from them, hugging your bare arms into yourself as you hoped you could find someone to run and talk to. Adam, Paul and his friends were chatting about video games and football. A part of you wanted to join the football conversation, but you knew they're going to mock you because you're a girl.

So you pulled out your phone and texted Sam a quick update message letting her know that Paul was disappointing just like how the both of you were expecting. You turned it off when you heard Yousef talk about Elisa.

“I can't believe Elisa actually came.” You looked to Yousef, realizing he was facing the food and drinks table. You turned immediately to find where she was. After moments of looking around, you found her standing around the drinks area laughing at something Marie said, her hair neatly styled to the side. You have noticed that Elisa's hair is always styled well, but this time it looks like she took longer to perfect her look. She was wearing the usual black and white suit, except with a pink tie.

You wondered what Marie had said to make her laugh that hard, and you looked around her to check if she had a date. You knew Fleur was recovering from her injury, but what if she brought someone else?

Your gaze was interrupted when you heard Paul mutter something, “No matter how much she dresses like us, she can never be us,” You turned to look at him in surprise, “imagine being a lesbian and trying to dress like us yet you get no dates.”

Your shock turned into anger, “Paul, what the fuck!” You couldn't believe he is your date, let alone your best friend as a kid.

The guys all laughed at what he said and how you reacted, Paul looked at you in shame and he tried to pull you away from the group.

“No let go of me! You can't just say stuff like that, it's rude.” You angrily pushed his hand away from your wrist. Out of all the things Paul did, this was the worst of them. Because he was not hurting you, he was hurting Elisa. Elisa the sweet girl that did nothing wrong to him.

“Y/n come on she can't hear us it's okay.” He pulled you closer as he whispered to you. His soft brown eyes looking at you to let you know how sincere he was. You felt disheartened, this was the guy you had a crush on. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down to not cause a scene. You can't behave this way for Elisa, they'll know. Wait…they'll know what? You glanced at Elisa to make sure she didn't hear him, now she's standing alone as Marie and Adam were dancing to the upbeat music playing.

“So just because she can't hear you, it technically means you didn't say it? Paul, you still said it!” You whisper-shouted at him. You exhaled slowly as the anger faded into shame. Shame in thinking he was sweet and precious. Shame in still expecting more from him no matter how much he ignored you.

“What can prove existence y/n? It's for you to have proof of something or remember it. No one can prove what I said to Elise, and she didn't witness it. You know what this means?” You gaped at him in surprise, is he turning this situation into a philosophical study? “What I said doesn't exist in Elise's world. She doesn't know about it, okay?” he held your hand and pulled you into him, leaving his right arm around your shoulder.

Your insides churned as you felt disappointed, not in Paul this time, but in yourself for not letting go of him and defending Elisa. You didn't even have the energy to correct him for saying the wrong name. For now, you're thinking of a plan to stay away from him.

The boys started talking about other stupid topics as Paul's arm remained on you. Instead of listening to them, you focused on Élisa's back as she was standing a few meters away from you. From this angle, it looked like Elisa had a new haircut for today. Her shaved sides looked cleaner, the suit she was wearing was fitting her shoulders so well as if she got it tailored. You glanced back to Paul when you realized you're putting too much focus on her.

You quickly took off Paul’s hand off your shoulder, telling him that you’re going to the bathroom. Your tense muscles started to calm down when you had finally escaped him and his annoying friends. Walking in the dark hallway to somewhere quieter, you decided to stop by the drinking area and get yourself cold water to calm yourself but you were interrupted by someone.

“I thought you were here with Paul?” You turned to the voice and found Elisa pouring herself a sprite, her first two buttons of her shirt were open and the light pink tie was loose. You froze in place as you looked at her this way, the orange hues from the lights hit her left face making her sharp jawline pop and her prominent nose stand out. You sighed quietly as your hands started to shiver, but you couldn’t blame the cold for this one. You know exactly what this is now.

“I don’t care about him.” You gulped the water and threw the paper cup in the trash.

“Did he hurt you?” She stepped closer to you as the loud music was making it difficult for her to hear you. But your flustered state made you step back, “no, he just said something rude about someone I care about…”

Elisa’s face changed from frustration to confusion, “who?”

You felt like the first day of school all over again, the unnecessary nervousness consuming you as you folded your arms against your chest, “why do you care?” you snorted and looked at the dancing couples at the new slow music playing.

Elisa figured out that you probably didn't even want to be around her, she was the one that approached you and started this conversation anyways. But why wouldn't you say who Paul was talking about? She has been nicer to you, right? Are you guys friends now?

Elisa froze as she thought back to how she has been treating you since that nurse encounter two days ago. She realized that she was just dramatic for thinking that the way you viewed her changed, a small smile and a nod doesn't make you guys friends. Besides, she was the only one that had reacted differently. Yours were the same, glancing away and looking down.

“You're right, I don't care.” She frustratingly mumbled, turning away from the table and you and pretending to care about the cringey gross couples dancing (she wishes she could have a girl and dance like that).

Your chest ached at the thought that she doesn't care, but you exhaled a breath you were holding when you realized she stopped asking who it was. You also didn't understand why you worded it that way in the first place. Why did you say that you cared about her? You wondered how she'd react if she knew about what happened, and really hoped she wouldn't find out about your new attraction.

You thought back to what Sam said, is it not that bad and you were being dramatic? Your parents were never religious, but they still never showed any sort of awareness about gay people. You thought about how your parents would react if you brought Elisa as your girl, and just the thought of her being yours made you smile.

You needed to accept it, but you didn't know how. So you glanced back at elisa now that you have admitted it to yourself, that you like elisa. Her face was still facing the couples, her hand holding the filled glass as her other hand was folded almost like yours.

“Why pink?”, you stuttered out, hoping to hear Elisa's voice again even if she was glaring from frustration.

“Hmm?” Elisa turned back to look at you with confusion and bent down to hear you. Now that the both of you are standing next to each other, she can see your face clearly and the effort you made for today. The soft pink makeup around your eyelids, the red pouty lips, the straightened hair, and the tight-fitted dress that made her eyes struggle to not look down. And all of this made her heart tighten, because all of this was for Paul. Not for her, for a guy that is a piece of shit and treats you awfully when she can treat you better.

Elisa kept in mind that when she said she can treat you better, she didn't mean it literally. She doesn't like you. In fact, she can't stand you no matter how many sweet interactions you can get into, you'll always be grossed out by her…or maybe you just can't stand to be around her for some reason (she has one in mind). She just said that theoretically, if Elisa had a girl, she would’ve treated her way better than that stupid guy.

“The tie,” you shakenly point at her tie as you avoided eye contact, “why the color pink?” Your mind started filling up with many thoughts, on why you even thought of this question, or what if she thinks you were mocking her outfit? You could’ve said anything else to start a conversation. You were never like this, you were socially bubbly and knew exactly what to say in situations. Why are you suddenly behaving this awkwardly?

It seemed as if Elisa had forgotten what she was wearing the way she looked down to look at the tie you were talking about. She stood up straighter and thought for a second. Normally Elisa would feel somewhat offended by the question, but she knew you meant no harm in asking and you looked like you were just curious, “to show people that at the end of the day I am still a girl.”

You stayed silent for a moment, confused by the response she just gave you, “but… pink is just a color I mean… how does that even, you know what? Nevermind.” You cringed out at the way you spoke to her. You should’ve just stayed quiet, especially by the way Elisa is side-eyeing you right now.

She cracked a smile when she saw your panic, “I know, I’m just kidding,” She turned around, now her front is facing the table edge on your right. She rested her hands on the edge as she leaned closer to you, making you lean back to the point where your butt is almost on top of the table. “I actually bought this awhile ago when I thought Fleur was coming with me before she injured herself.”

“Oh,” you looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the table, “so I’m assuming Fleur was meant to wear pink, right?”

She nodded, but before she responded you screeched out when you realized the music changed, “Woah, not this song!” She looked at you confusedly as you jumped off the table and looked around you embarrassed, “sorry I don’t even know why I did that. This is my favorite song of all time and I kinda got excited.”

Elisa laughed awkwardly, looking around the same direction as you to see what you’re looking for. But her eyes froze when she noticed it was Paul, and he was also looking around possibly for you. You knew Paul was looking for you, because no matter how many things he forgot about you, your love for this song is unforgettable.

You turned your glance to Elisa, realizing she’s also looking at Paul, “hey, I don’t want him to see me…he’ll probably try and get me to dance with him but I can’t even stand him after what he did today.”

“Umm… So do you want me to cover you or what?” she scrunched her face in confusion as she opened her suit jacket in a way to try and hide you from anyone behind her, including paul.

You were stunned for a moment, gaping at her before bursting out from laughter. For a second, you forgot about the fact you were trying to hide from Paul as you saw Elisa's pink flushed cheeks seeing you laughing at her awfully failed attempt. But you were thankful nonetheless, “I don't think this would cover me completely but thank you.”

She slowly returned the jacket back around her waist, buttoning the first button and turning around to check for Paul again. Elisa knew her face was probably red and burning, but in her defense, what was she supposed to do? She tried not to face you until her face cools down a bit so she tried to look for ‘Voldemort’ again. When she saw him, she smiled. Paul had stopped looking around and concluded that you probably was still in the bathroom. So now Elisa knew that Paul won't have to treat you like shit, “damn how much do you like this song that he even noticed you were gone?”

“Um… I used to sing it all the time back when we used to hang out together. The obsession was intense.” You suddenly felt so pathetic for your crazy obsession, but when you looked up to see Elisa, she had a fond smile.

“Yeah, I get it. I had a crazy obsession with one video game to the point where Fleur and Marie avoided me because I kept talking about it.”

You glanced back and saw Paul talking to Amy. And right now, you were glad that he was talking to her. Because you can just spend your time talking with Elisa and he won't even think about you.

“If I was really drunk and no one was around, I would be dancing right now.” You mumbled, frowning as you were humming the song. Elisa giggled at your comment, she took a step to the dark hallway and pointed to the place next to her.

“No one is going to look here.” Elisa's voice came out way more unsteady than she had expected. It's not like she's asking you to dance with her, she just wanted you to feel comfortable and enjoy prom. And it's your favorite song, anyone would want to dance to their favorite song without judgment, right?

You sighed as you looked down to cover your blushing face. Although your face doesn't usually turn red, it does show somehow that you're ‘blushing’... well, that's what Sam says when you do anyways. Is Elisa asking to dance with you? There is no way that's what she meant, you had just admitted your crush on her to yourself and now she wants to dance with you, is this a dream?

Besides, she doesn't like you. Her little nods and glances mean nothing. What if she talks bad about you to her friends, maybe that's why she glances at you… to find something to talk about. But as you looked up to Elisa, her face contorted to a stressful frown and you had just realized that she probably thinks that you're rejecting her.

“Okay,” you gave her a small smile as you walked towards her to the unlit hallway. Elisa gave you the same soft smile, her cheeks turning pink. In her head, a million thoughts are running through her head. Is she about to have a girl dancing with her like the couples she just called gross and cringey? Were you actually going to dance with a girl? Elisa thought you were against that, she thought you wouldn’t even accept the idea of being around her.

But right as you stepped near her, the music abruptly stopped making the both of you groan and slack your shoulders. “Are you serious? I didn't even get to enjoy the best part.” You talked under your breath as you awkwardly stepped away from Elisa, realizing you were getting a bit too close to her.

Elisa was frustrated as much as you. She actually didn't give a damn about the song, but the thought of her dancing with you in your cute dress and bright smile made her pray that the song would be playing for a whole hour if possible. But she had to remind herself that she didn't necessarily want to dance with you specifically, she just wanted a girl in her arms, any girl. Or maybe that's one way of trying to convince herself.

A loud voice from the speakers echoed through the venue, “hey everyone, I am Michael and sorry to interrupt your dance, but we will reveal prom king and prom queen now. You were able to vote for the contestants for the whole past month. And now, we have the list. For prom kings, we have me, Paul Badosa, and Adam Nuñes. For prom queens, we have y/n l/n, Amy Moreau, and Jasmine Ali,” You turned to look at Elisa with a look of distress. If Paul and you win, you would have to dance in front of everyone. You didn’t want to be around Paul, and just the thought of his hands around your waist gave you goosebumps…and not the good kind. “Drum roll please… the winners are Paul Badosa and y/n l/n, congratulations! And please come to the front for the crown and the dance.”

Elisa was praying for you not to win it when she heard Paul's name. But now she realized that you need help escaping this place before they try to look for you. She turned to look at your anxious face and tapped your bare shoulder, pointing to the small neon ‘exit’ sign on the end of the pitch black hallway. You gratefully nodded and walked to that door, knowing that if you decided to run you would either trip or your heels would make too much noise. You can hear the students calling out your name and looking for you, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t want to dance with Paul, everything would be uncomfortable.

Once you delicately and slowly opened the door, you turned around to thank Elisa. But you didn’t expect her to be this close, your face almost bumping into her chest. You stumbled backwards from the shock, and Elisa wrapped her arm around your waist before you dropped. From the sudden surprise and fear of falling, you wrapped your arms around Elisa's shoulder, trying to find balance on your uncomfortable heels.

For a moment, the both of you froze clinging into each other. Elisa slowly stepped forward, making sure the both of you are completely outside so the students don't find you… especially in this sort of position with her. You didn't want to let go of her so you pretended to struggle with your heels. Embarrassment started filling Elisa when she could feel her heartbeat speeding up and she closed her eyes begging that you can't feel it against your chest.

You were the first to let go; you were afraid if she noticed something different with the way you were behaving or if she was uncomfortable with the way you were clinging onto her. Elisa's focus was nowhere near you, she was trying to calm her gay heart. Obviously, she had hugged girls before. But it was you, in a cute dress, in a party, clinging into her… that's different.

The both of you were avoiding each other's eyes while trying to calm down, you looked at the door behind Elisa to make sure it's closed and decided to ask, “why didn't you stay? It's prom and you should enjoy it.”

“And you're going home alone? You don't even have a ride and it's dark outside, it's not right.”

You sighed gratefully, pulling out your phone to look at how far is the venue from your house. Surprisingly, it was just a 20 minute walk. And although this may seem too far away, you knew it wouldn't be that bad.

You refused to call your parents to pick you up from here. You didn't want them to know that Paul had basically ditched you and humiliated you and Elisa around his friends. You felt shame knowing what happened, even if it wasn't your fault. It's embarrassing to not celebrate prom and leave early… especially when you were the ‘popular’ student in class.

“It's okay Elisa, the venue isn't far off from my house.” You opened Google maps for you to follow the steps.

“Y/n it's still 8 at night, why don't you contact your dad to take you the same way he dropped you off?” Elisa blurted out. She was worried about you walking alone, another reason to hate on the inconsiderate idiot Paul. She also hoped that you didn't notice that she knew how you came to the venue, not wanting to admit to you that she was eyeing all the way from the outside when you came through the open entrance.

You stayed quiet for a moment, not wanting her to know the reason why you would rather walk in heels for 20 minutes rather than contacting your parents. You groaned, “I just don't want them to know I left early, they're going to ask me all about it.”

From your frustrated tone, Elisa understood exactly why. She stepped forward and pointed to the sidewalk, hoping you would lead the way to your house.

“Elisa, I'm sorry.” Your features suddenly contracted into a pout, remembering how stubborn Elisa is and how she would never accept a ‘no’ response.

“Y/n, it's okay. It's not like I was enjoying looking at couples dancing and wishing I was in one,” She exhales, “Besides, the only reason why I came here is because I promised Fleur.”

She stepped forward again, turning around to face you and waving her arm over. Elisa felt that she may have been sounding desperate, but it's okay right? It's not like you were uncomfortable with her walking you home. You seem more relaxed around her, and maybe her assumptions about you were false. She saw the soft grateful smile on your face as you followed her, holding up your phone to follow the map.

It was a blissful silence between you guys for a short while. Both secretly enjoy each other's company while also panicking on what to say. You bit into your lip as you prayed that you'd stop shaking from the chilly weather, goosebumps all over your arms. It's the south of France in December, and you're just wearing a dress.

Elisa turned to look at your phone to see where the both of you should go after the turn, but she noticed your fingers shivering as you were grasping your phone. Her body stiffened, realizing that it’s her duty now to protect you from the cold. She wanted to impress you, but she also wanted to take care of you, suddenly feeling protective of you and your health. Elisa’s fingers slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and she slowed down from walking to remove it.

Elisa wasn’t aware that you were also glancing at her. The moonlight made her look like she came from an anime. Because there is not a single actress that can portray the angelic scenery in front of you. Your eyes traced her neck and collarbone from your view, and you didn’t notice Elisa had slowed down until it started to become difficult for you to shamelessly stare at her without turning your neck.

When Elisa stopped, you copied her and decided to wait for her. Until you realized that she had removed her jacket and is handing it to you. Elisa was breathing heavily, her lips between her teeth as she waited for you to take it. She was afraid that you would see this gesture as ‘weird’. But when she saw you grin at her as your hand accepted the jacket, her shoulders loosened up and she confidently walked again. Elisa prayed that you can’t see the panic in the way she’s walking, she wanted you to view her as calm and collected.

But you weren’t even thinking of the way she was standing or walking right now, you were a blushing mess at the sweet action. You followed her to thank her, “thanks, but you probably need it more than me.” You were still holding onto it, refusing to wear it.

“No, it’s okay! I’m wearing two layers beneath this,” she shook her head as she pointed at her dress shirt, “I promise I came prepared.”

You grinned brightly, lifting the large jacket and wearing it. The sleeves were reaching your fingertips, and the edge of the jacket had reached even below your butt. You buttoned all three of the buttons, accepting anything that can keep you warm in the winter wind.

Elisa was eyeing you from the corner of her eyes. She tried to mask the pink of her cheeks when she saw how big the jacket looked on you. She was aware that she is taller than most girls, but it’s difficult for her to notice that when she is lanky and skinny. Seeing you swim in her jacket made her smile in pride, and also because she thought you looked adorable that way, in her jacket under the streetlight.

“Wow… so you were planning to give your jacket to another girl, I see.” You sarcastically accused her as you nudged her shoulder. She bit her lip as she looked away, “no, that's not what I meant! I just…it was cold so-”

“I know, I'm joking.” You giggled when you saw her stammer. She nodded at what you said and stayed quiet, stuffing her clammy hands into her pockets.

You glanced back at the screen of your phone, realizing there is only a minute left before you reach home. You glanced back to Élisa and asked, “Hey, I want to thank you for all of this. Even when you said you didn't even want to stay there, I still feel rude dragging you out,” You smiled at her, hoping that she'd accept the offer you'll make, “Do you want to come over and have dinner with me?... and my family of course they'd be grateful to meet the person that walked me home.”

Elisa's eyes widened at the thought of your parents seeing her. She immediately declined, “no it's all okay actually, thanks.” She gave you a respectful smile, hoping you wouldn't take offense in her refusal. But she can see the embarrassment and the way your lips frowned, and now guilt is filling her heart. She didn't mean to make you sad, she was just worried about how your parents would react when they see her.

You shrugged her response off, hoping she can't read the disappointment in your face. Your parents taught you that if someone helped you, you have to offer them something back in gratitude. Whether it's candy, dinner, gifts, etc. So for Elisa to leave prom and walk you home, you felt the need to give her something back.

“This is my house, it's pretty small but I'm an only child so…” you pointed at the house when you spotted it as you turned to Elisa, “I want to give you something since you aren't coming in. Can you wait?”

Elisa nodded eagerly as a response. She felt like she couldn't breathe this whole walk with you, and she knew she needed a small break to recover from what happened the whole day. She saw you step inside the house wearing her jacket, she screeched when she realized your family will see you with it, “wait!”

But you had already stepped inside and you found both of your parents in the dining room eating dinner. They saw you and gave you a smile, “Hey, how was it?”

“Good. Mama, where did you put those fancy chocolates?”

Your father didn't say anything, he was only staring at the oversized suit jacket you were wearing.

“Ohhh, is it for Paul?” Your mom winked at you, her left hand pointing at the kitchen cabinet.

You sighed in frustration, not knowing what to say. If you said no, they'll ask who. And Elisa clearly doesn't want your parents to know her, and you also don't want your parents to question everything that happened with Paul.

So you didn't respond and grabbed the box of candy. But when your hands reached out for it, you noticed the suit jacket. Shit! Your parents would definitely question everything because of this.

You ran quickly outside, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

While you were away, Elisa was scanning your house out of curiosity. When she looked up to the lit bedroom upstairs, she noticed a shadow staring outside directly at her. She nearly jumped from it, closing her eyes in embarrassment. But who would that shadow be? She saw a glimpse of your parents when you opened the door, and you are an only child.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up again, but the shadow wasn't there anymore. As she tried to take a step forward to see it from another angle, you opened the door.

She flinched and looked back at you, “oh, hi! Hi again…”

You looked at her strangely and smiled, “I didn't want you to go home with nothing, thank you.” You handed her the box of chocolate.

Elisa looked at the box, it was her favorite holiday chocolate. She isn't allowed to eat them at all because they were expensive and prestigious, only for special occasions.

“Oh wow, are you sure?” She hesitantly held out her hands to take it.

“Yes, and also this.” You passed the box to her and removed her jacket, handing it to her too.

Elisa was stunned for a moment, the warm outdoor lamp your house had made the scene in front of her look straight from a movie. The way your hair danced around your shoulders, the way you were removing her jacket. She quietly accepted it, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

You turned around to open your door, giving her a small wave and closed it behind you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping your parents won't barge in and ask you a million questions. When they didn't, you sneakily walked on the stairs to your room, but what you saw made you scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK SAM!” You almost tripped down the stairs from your heels. Sam was on the top of the stairs with a sly smirk, she had seen the whole encounter of you and Elisa. She was surprised to see you hand out those chocolates, because you refused to give her a piece of them from how special they are to you. So why did you give them to Elisa? She also saw the jacket exchange, and the way Elisa was standing there admiring you.

You took a deep breath, turning around to glance at your parents to see if they heard you. Your dad gave you a disappointed glance, and your mom showed you a hand gesture that means ‘wait’ (which means you're basically fucked but she can't do anything since your friend was there).

Sam pulled your arm and dragged you to your room, she shut the door with the key and jumped on your bed, “how was prom with Paul?”

You awkwardly walked towards your closet, pulling out a pajama set as you thought of a way to respond, “um… did you not see my message?”

“Oh I saw it,” she replied, “I was just wondering if he redeemed himself at the end? I heard that you won prom queen, but I don't see you with the tiara.”

You turned to look at her, “can you leave so I can change?”

She nodded and left the room. She was waiting for you to say what happened, she still didn't understand how you came home with Elisa while also wearing her jacket. She hoped you'd be honest and tell her the truth. Sam had gotten 3 calls from Paul asking where you went, he said he was embarrassed that you had ditched him and how he had to receive the crown alone. He also asked where were you, but she didn't have an answer to that, she didn't know either. And when she tried to call and text, it seemed as though you were ignoring her (now she thinks you were too busy with Elisa).

You opened the door to your room as your left hand was wiping the makeup on your face, “I'm too tired to speak, but I basically ran away ‘cuz I didn't want to be around Paul.”

“And who dropped you home? Did you get a ride?” Sam was pretending as if she didn't see you outside, and you glanced at her weirdly. Did she see us? Would Elisa be okay if Sam knew about this? It was nothing, right? She was just being a kind person.

“No, I didn't get any rides.” You responded, the third makeup wipe is now stained black from the mascara.

“Yeah no ride because she doesn't have a dick.” She snorted as she snacked on the barbecue flavored chips.

Your hands stopped rubbing your eyes as you turned to look at her with an open mouth, “Sam! What even was that?”

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Elisa ran away together? I thought we were besties.” Sam had tried so hard to not be hurt by this, but the both of you were friends for a while. And she thought you liked her by now to tell her everything. She understood why you wouldn't tell her about your crush, but why not tell her about this? Aren't you both friends?

“Sam, you are my best friend… I was just worried you'd see it differently.” You exhaled as you sat down next to her, holding her hand now that you've cleaned your face.

“See it like what?” She knew what you meant, but she needed you to say it out loud, maybe then it will be easier for you to speak about your feelings out loud.

“Sam… you brought up me looking pretty enough to attract Elisa, and I thought that maybe you would make jokes when you find out that she walked me home.” You looked down at your bare feet, they were sore from all the walking you've done tonight and you just need a rest.

“Okay… I'm sorry I did make jokes, but I just wanna know what happened for you to even gift her those chocolates!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a nearby pillow, “She left prom to walk me home! That's the least I could've done.”

She laid in your bed, removing the covers to get cozy. “And she gave you her jacket, she's really sweet you know? She's just a little awkward around you.” She can feel herself dozing off as she mumbled.

“Well, that's the reason why I don't think she likes me…But Sam, today I was really happy,” You smiled as you thought about what happened today, “She did everything she can to make me feel safe and comfortable.”

You laid next to Sam and waited for her response, but you could hear her light snores and she turned around to pull you into her, just how the both of you usually cuddle in sleepovers.

You couldn't sleep, just smiling at what happened with Elisa.

“Shit! Did she walk home alone?!” You shrieked as you stood up and took your phone from the bedside table, but you froze when you realized that you didn't have any of Elisa's socials. You went to Facebook and searched up her name. You stumbled on around 15 accounts until you found an account with a username ‘delameida5elel’ and the picture was Elisa holding a football with Fleur and Marie. You pressed on it and found a recent post,

Prom would've been better if I knew how to socialize around pretty girls :((

You froze, reading the sentence over and over to check if your eyes were fooling you. Elisa actually likes girls? And what does she mean it would've been better if she knew how to socialize around pretty girls? Is she saying that today wasn't good and she wanted to talk to actual pretty girls? Elisa didn't have fun today with you and hoped she'd be with pretty girls, unlike you.

Your happy spirits suddenly went down feeling like a sad deflated balloon. At least she's home safely or else she wouldn't post that.

You threw the phone at the table nearby and laid stiffly back. Sam's arms came back around you, but you pushed them away and shuffled all the way to the end of the bed and turned away from her.

I fucked up.

----

~does your mom ever pull the italian hand and you panic and pray?

~Google maps app was created just 6 days before prom😝

guys let me know what you think i need to hear your thoughts

#elisa de almeida #élisa de almeida #woso x reader #elisa de almedia fluff #elisa de almeida x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #nel's writings #psg feminines x reader #fanfics #woso #woso imagine #nel recommends fanfiction

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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would steve ever insist that eddie comes to basketball games with him just so they have an excuse to get those good seats right at the court that famous people and celebrities usually get?

Eddie is not Steve’s go-to person if he wants basketball tickets.

He goes to Lucas because every doctor knows a doctor that knows someone with season tickets they never use. And also, Steve kinda wants to go to the game with someone who, you know, will actually enjoy being there.

Eddie’s undying hatred of all things sports is, well…undying.

But Steve’s been a Pacers’ fan since the first time his dad shoved a basketball in his hands and taught him how to shoot. He has watched them lose in the playoffs every year that they make it to it, but he’s convinced. 2014 was going to be different.

He just can’t get tickets. He spent all day trying to buy them online and failed, and all the resale tickets are for seats that suck or way over his paygrade. Him and Eddie pay for their own hobbies out of their separate bank accounts, and Steve can’t afford the absolutely ridiculous price that’s being asked so…

“Please?” Steve asked, big puppy eyes and adorable little pout. He knew what he was doing and so did Eddie. “Pretty please? I never ask you for anything, Ed…Okay, fine, except for all the stuff I ask you for, but this is different. It’s a small price to pay to see my team win.”

“Your team that has literally never won in the history of all time?”

“How many championships does Leg-less the loser elf have?” Steve asked.

“…It’s Legolas,” Eddie said. “And he was a part of the fellowship that kinda saved the world.”

“So was I,” Steve pointed out. “And I deserve this.”

Steve didn’t ask for courtside seats. He didn’t ask to be sat among the rich and famous. Hell, he didn’t even ask Eddie to go with him. He just wanted to see if Eddie had a connection that could get him a ticket for a seat that wasn’t in the nosebleeds.

Steve doesn’t really believe that the tickets Eddie showed him are real until they are sitting in their seats – their seats that are courtside and five feet away from Paul George warming up. Steve is so excited to be there that he pretty much misses Eddie shaking someone’s hand right in front of him until he’s nudged in the shoulder, “Babe, you know, Sandy, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says absently, sparing a glance in the direction Eddie was gesturing before looking back out at the court. It takes him a second for his brain to register who he was just looking at and then, “Holy shit, you’re Sandra Bullock.”

She is just as beautiful and as nice as Steve has always thought she was, and she’s amused by him which makes Steve blush. She holds out her hand to him, “And you are…”

“I’m…” Steve trails off, only picking back up his train of thought when Eddie laughs loudly beside him. “Steve. I’m Steve. Uh, Harrington. Eddie’s – I’m – we’re together, by law.”

“We’re married,” Eddie grinned, throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder, and wiggling his wedding ring at her. “Still working on how to tell people, obviously.”

She congratulates them and talks to them a bit about the game (bring Steve out of his starstruck stupor), and even buys them champagne as a late little wedding gift. It’s a blast.

Eddie spends half the game flinching every time the ball bounces a little too close or a player nearly ends up in their lap, but Steve is loving all of it. The other half of the time, Eddie is having Steve explain what’s going on and who the players are, or he’s talking to the guy next to him.

It’s some square jawed model type that Steve doesn’t recognize and also, doesn’t like. He’s a little too friendly with his husband, especially when he curled a piece of Eddie’s hair around his finger. When the two of them end up on the kiss cam together, Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to register it before Steve pulls him nearly out of the camera frame and kisses him.

Later, fans will make jokes about the pictures of that night because it’s very clear that Steve and Eddie switched seats.

#channeling this pictures of Ethan Hawke and his son switching seats so he can talk to Rihanna #btw I don’t know anything about basketball. all if this was googled #Steve’s like: remember when I got brain damage saving the world? buy me tickets for it #And Eddie every time a player nearly collides with the first row: How is this legal or safe?#eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 26 days

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Could you do one where the whole band is in the studio and reader is so desperate that she rides axl in front of everyone. Preferably the original line up in the current era please I love you❤🌷

A/n: I may have gone a little crazy with this but that's ok because who doesn't love the whole pretty boy band <3

Warnings: Smut, gang bang, riding, fingering(f receiving), hand jobs, breeding kink, if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Guns N’ Roses was finally back from tour and you couldn’t have been happier to get to be with Axl again. You called everyday while he was away, with the calls often ending in phone sex, but it wasn’t enough.

You knew from the get go with him that you wouldn’t be able to be with him as much as you might have liked to be, it was just part of being with someone in a band. Didn’t mean you didn’t miss him, in more ways than one.

You’d spent the first few days together, as per usual, but one morning you woke up to find him getting ready to leave.

“Hey, babe, where’re you going?” You asked as you walked into the bathroom where he was.

“Going to the studio today.” He answered through a mouthful of toothpaste. You glanced at his reflection in the mirror then back to him.

“Why? You guys just got back from tour.” He spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

“Yeah, where I had a lot of time to think of new songs.” He explained. He planted a kiss on your forehead before heading out of the bathroom and to the walk-in closet. “We’re going to a studio to work on the instrumentals of some of them for our next album.” You watched as he sorted through clothes.

“What about me?” You asked, looking up at him with a small pout.

“What about you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You expect me to just sit here all day?”

“Don’t you do that a lot anyway?” You glared at him, arms crossed over your chest and he gave you a kiss instead of apologising. “It’s only a few hours and then I’ll be home again.” You scoffed. He started changing in front of you, you watched him shamelessly.

“I’m coming with you.” You stated and started picking out your own outfit.

“No you’re not.” He looked at you with a confused expression. “What would you even do?” You shrugged.

“Nothing.” You said as you found an outfit for yourself. “But I want to be with you, so I’m coming.” He stared at you for a moment before deciding that he’s not going to be able to change your mind.

“Fine, be ready in ten minutes or I’m leaving without you.

You finished getting ready, it took longer than ten minutes but you knew he wouldn’t leave without you, and of course he didn’t. He was still waiting in the kitchen on his phone, completely having lost sense of time.

Upon entering the studio you were met with familiar faces all around. Slash was looking down at his Les Paul, Izzy was watching him and strumming along a rhythm to it. Steven and Duff were talking about dogs. At least you assumed so since they were showing each other pictures of dogs.

They all greeted you and Axl when you came in. Axl guided you to the couch and sat next to you, throwing an arm around you and holding you close to his side.

They were all talking about one thing or another, the tour, home life, stuff like that before actually diving into what they came there for which was the next album.

You were bored out of your mind. No one cared when you went on your phone, you didn’t really have much reason to be there anyway other than them asking your opinion on some things, which lyric fit better, whether or not they should add more solos. You enjoyed helping when you could but you were so fucking bored you were losing your mind.

You started reading about Axl, finding smutty fics about him to pass the time. It did help, to a point. After a few minutes of reading all you wanted was to act it out.

You knew he had his phone in his pocket so you texted him, saying how needy you were. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and looked at it, glancing back at you before responding. He told you to go deal with it in the bathroom. You huffed and stayed seated on the couch.

As they kept talking you decided ‘fuck it’ and started pushing the joint in your thumb against your clit through your thin, summer shorts. It wasn’t much but it was some form of friction, friction you were craving.

You kept your eyes on your phone for the most part but when you heard Slash’s low chuckle you had to look up. His glasses covered his eyes so you couldn’t see exactly where he was looking but you could tell he was looking at you, watching you touch yourself. His hand covered his mouth but he was smiling, you could see it in his cheeks. That much was a motivator to keep going.

You spread your legs and reached your hand into your shorts, continuing to touch yourself but this time with a viewer. Slash kept watching, smiling, chuckling to himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Slash?” Axl finally asked. His tone wasn’t angry, even though you couldn’t see his face you could hear the way the corners of his mouth were pulled into a smile.

The guitarist shook his head and gestured to you. You quickly closed your legs and hid what you had been doing so when Axl turned to look at you there was nothing to see. Sure enough he asked Slash what you’d been doing.

“Go deal with your girlfriend.” He mumbled, aiming his gaze to the ground. Axl turned around again and took a closer look at you. Your cheeks were flushed, sweat was starting to collect at your hairline and your breathing was heavy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He came over to you, getting your pants and panties off. You started squirming and reaching for your clothes, not expecting him to undress you in front of his band. “I told you to stay home but no you just had come along, now look at you.” He gestured to your now half-naked body. You still tried to cover yourself but he wouldn’t let you, holding your legs apart as his bandmates gathered around behind him to gawk at your glistening folds.

Axl slapped your thigh. “Get up.” You did as he asked, though still wanting to cover yourself. Axl got his half-hard dick out of his pants and sat down behind you before pulling you down on him, slipping into you with ease given how hot you made yourself prior.

He got your legs onto the couch so you were straddling him, backwards cowgirl style. He wanted you to do all the work, since this was what you wanted in the first place. He also wanted this position so that his friends could see everything, from your pretty little cunt to the faces you made when you came.

“Go on, give us a show.” Duff said, already palming himself through his jeans. Axl patted the space beside him for Duff to come sit. He did and pulled out his hard member for you to jerk. You let out a soft whine and reached for him, starting to bounce yourself on Axl’s cock while stroking Duff’s.

Steven came over as well, standing to the side of you so as to not abstract Slash and Izzy’s view of you. He dropped his own pants and waited expectantly for you to let him in on the fun. You glanced back to Axl. “Can’t keep him waiting.” He said with a grin. You looked back to Steven and started pumping his shaft as well.

You thought this was a lot but you knew it wasn’t the end of it either. Izzy and Slash were both standing farther back working themselves. It seemed that you watching them acted as confirmation and they came over.

They didn’t make you take them into your mouth like you thought they would, much to your delight. Instead, they started jerking themselves off in your face and all you could do was wait for them to cum on you.

Your body was getting tired, arms wanted to fall to your sides and your legs began to shake under you as you kept bouncing on Axl. Seeing this the ginger started fucking up into you, making it a little easier.

Of course he knew your body better than anyone and knew exactly which spots to hit to make your eyes roll back. You had five men around you, all with their dicks out for you. It made everything feel better, especially when Duff reached over to rub your clit.

He has long, talented fingers that quickened everything you were feeling. “Fuck! ‘M-’m gonna cum, gonna cum!” You whined, hands clenching and unclenching around Duff and Steven’s cocks which seemed to get Steven over the edge, white liquid spurting onto your lap.

You looked down at it with stars in your eyes. It was then that you realised how badly you wanted all of them to cum on you. You kept jerking Steven off, his voice getting higher now. You could feel Axl twitching inside of you so you looked back at him.

“Please cum inside, want it so bad, please.” You whined. Axl had always wanted kids so you learned early on in your relationship that he had a breeding kink and asking him to cum inside your tight cunt was a sure fire way to make him cum.

Sure enough he grabbed your hips and held you down on him while his cum filled you up. That feeling alone almost made you cum but what really did it was Slash toying with your nipple.

You hadn’t been looking at him so his warm hand was already a surprise but the way he fondled you made your eyes roll back into your head. Your body shook and the couch under you, along with Axl’s lap, was now drenched.

You heard Duff groaning beside you and looked over just in time to catch his dick leaking, thick liquid coating your hand. His hand didn’t stop working on your clit, rubbing it, pinching and flicking. Seeing what made you moan the loudest and sweetest.

Izzy turned your head and thick ropes spurted onto your face. You stared up at him, lips parted as his seed slipped into your mouth. You were in such a trance for a moment you almost missed the feeling of Slash cumming on your chest.

More than once you’d caught him staring at your chest, really anyone’s chest. You smiled up at him and moved up and down Axl a few more times so he could watch your tits bounce while he came.

You were all breathing heavy, panting on one another as you came down from your highs.

“Get up.” Axl said with a heavy breath, patting your thigh. You got up and then started questioning what he wanted, your mind still in a haze. Sweat and jizz mixed together on your body and dripped down.

“Why..?” You asked out of breath and legs shaking beneath you.

“You wanted to get fucked so bad,” the ginger started, “why not give everyone a turn?” You stared up at him with wide eyes as you felt Slash’s big, warm hands wrap around your waist.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #gnr fanfiction #gnr #izzy gnr #duff gnr #slash gnr #axl gnr #axl rose x reader #axl rose smut #axl rose fanfiction #axl rose #axl rose gnr #axl rose imagine

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