miss fib

4

“I had a good time [at Real Madrid] and was successful as well… good friendships with a few players… My best friend is Sergio Ramos. I’m still in contact with him. For me, he’s maybe the best defender in the world… good relationship, good guy, good personality, and good singer – he has a nice voice, really.” – Mesut Özil, on his Real Madrid bestie
- November 7, 2016

Lions and Angel Wings (Jason McCann)

I apologise to those who have said they’re not big fans of the Jason McCann imagines, it feels like it’s all I post, but I’m very proud of this one and I hope you give it a read and enjoy it either way💗

Her back rested against the headboard of the bed, her knees locked. Her hand glided across the page that featured only her pencils marks. The sound of lead being put upon paper was all that could be heard.

In front of her was Jason McCann, the man who was notoriously powerful and handled anything from guns to drugs in a normal working day. He sat, pencils in hand, drawing her as she sketched anything that came to mind.

“How’s it going?” she asked, meaning she shattered the hourlong silence they were just in.

“I’m still a little shit at hands and fingers, but I don’t think I’ve fucked up your face too much,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving the paper resting on his knees.

“You draw me everytime. Why?”

He finally glanced up at her, but it wasn’t for long because his eyes quickly shifted back down to the paper.

“You’re the most beautiful thing in my life, I have nothing else I wanna recreate,” he said mindlessly, clearly having no idea how much it touched her heart. “And you’re at your most beautiful when you’re drawing; you look at it like it’s everything to you, I’ve seen you look at me that way before. I like capturing it.”

Six Months Ago

“You’re so perfect,” Jason muttered, speaking for the first time in a while. His head rested against her arm as her other created art on her paper. They’d been sat there for over an hour.

It had become a usual routine ever since Jason had found out she enjoyed creating art. He’d sit and watch her for hours, not moving even when she crumpled the paper in annoyance and threw it across the room so she could start again. He’d simply watch her.

“How do you draw so well? It’s insane,” he said and she smiled, feeling her cheeks flush.

“I’ve always enjoyed it, so I just never stopped,” she replied, her eyes focusing on the paper that was slowly becoming filled with pencil marks.

“Do you think you’d be any good at tattooing? I’d love for you to ink me,” he said, now looking up at her. She looked down to see his hair was stuck up in all different directions and he looked tired, but not in a bad way.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d have to try it one day, although I doubt anyone would be willing to come near me when I have a huge needle in my hand,” she chuckled, she felt his hand on her thigh. She tried to not think about it.

“I would,” he said quickly. “Maybe we can make it happen one day.”

She agreed, but she hadn’t the slightest idea where she’d ever have the opportunity.

“Maybe I could teach you how to draw,” she said suggestively and paused her hand movements to look down at him. He looked unsure if he could accept, but as though he was seconds from giving in.

Present

It only seemed like yesterday to [Y/N] that she’d sit and have Jason watch her, that hadn’t happened in so long; he was busy doing his own thing now.

Instead of sitting close by her side, he’d sit across from her so he could add another drawing to his collection. She loved the concentration in his gaze, and made small glances in his direction just to see it every now and then.

“Jason, weren’t you supposed to be going somewhere at six?” she asked after catching sight of the clock behind his head. He didn’t move as she spoke.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled. “What time is it now?”

“Well, it’ll be six o'clock in ten minutes,” she said hesitantly; scared of his reaction. She almost felt as though she’d made him late.

“Fuck,” he spat and frowned as he dropped the pencils and paper on the bed beside him, upside down so that she couldn’t see. “Shit.”

“It’ll be okay, right? You’re not gonna be in trouble, are you?”

“I won’t be in trouble, but I might just take a bullet to the head if I’m late for this meeting which is highly likely because I can’t get across town in ten minutes,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” she said, now dropping her own things beside her. Jason looked at her, confused.

“This isn’t your fault, babygirl- actually, you got me into art so technically, it is,” he laughed once more but the grin left his face when he realised she wasn’t laughing. “I’m joking, I lost track of time, it’s all my fault.”

“Be okay,” she muttered and stood up as quickly as she could. He instantly walked over to her and took her in his secure embrace.

“Don’t worry about me-”

“You said you’re gonna be shot-”

“That was a joke, an insensitive one at that, I’m gonna be okay,” he muttered. “I’ll be home later tonight, don’t wait up, okay?” he leaned down to look in her eyes and she nodded, although she knew she would be awake until she heard him come through the door, she always was.

“I love you,” she whispered and before she could hear him say it back, his lips were on hers. Rough and sloppy kisses were left on her lips.

“I’ll take you out tomorrow, wherever you wanna go,” he muttered, and she knew he was only offering as a way to reassure her that he would be back that night.

“The art museum?” she said, a subtle smile on her lips suddenly.

“Again?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he complained.

“I’ve gotten you into making art, now I need to make you appreciate it,” she chuckled, her hands clutching his chest. “Jason, you’re gonna be late, go.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, his body jolting as though he’d just remembered he had to be somewhere. “I’ll see you later,” he hurried towards the bedroom door and he was gone. She was left alone and not certain if her boyfriend was coming back.

****

She’d stayed up the whole time Jason was gone, her skin itching as it got later and later, darker and darker, she knew if he wasn’t home soon, it’d be getting lighter.

She threw herself into the world she’d created on her page; sunsets and waterfalls. She preferred it there rather than in reality, she knew it’d be different if Jason was here, she always loved being with him.

It was midnight when she heard the front door being unlocked and opened, and she felt the settling in her heart. He was okay.

She heard a sort of rustling that mixed in with the sound of his feet hitting each step as he took on the stairs. She waited for him to come through the door and when he did, she looked up at him. 

“Baby, I told you not to wait up,” he sighed, looking at me helplessly.

“You tell me that every time. I always do,” she said and the words caught in her throat; she hadn’t spoken since he’d left six hours ago.

“Have you been okay?” he asked, looking around at the multiple pieces of paper scattered everywhere. He didn’t look surprised.

She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. Her eyes stayed on him as he walked over to the bed and sat down. The bag in his hand become dominant in her mind, but she tried not to look at it.

“I got something,” he said, as though reading her mind. “I mean, I think it’s for the both of us, but mainly for you. I was thinking about it, and I couldn’t help but feed my curiosity. Luckily, I knew a guy,” he chuckled. The bag sat on the bed now and she stared at it. “Have a look.”

Her eyes flicked between the bag and Jason before she took a hold of it. Looking inside she saw what looked was a giant pencil with a more dangerous aspect to it, she knew exactly what it was the second her eyes landed on it.

“Seriously?” she gaped at him, he looked hopeful.

“I really want you to tattoo me and, I know you don’t have any yet but you’ve told me you want some, I kinda wanna be your first,” he said.

“You were my first,” she pointed out and he smirked with pride.

“Then I shall be your first for multiple things, what do you say?” She could see he was chewing the inside of his cheek, he looked as though he was seconds away from bursting with anticipation.

She took a deep breath. “Okay.” And that was all it took to cause a smile to break out on Jason’s face.

She’d watched him handle the gigantic needle, feeling her heart thumping in her chest. They were sat on the floor, sat near the plug by the window.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, Jason didn’t bother to look at her as he plugged it in.

“It does, but pain is good. Pain can be nice if you let it,” he said and her eyes moved up his arms that were decorated beautifully. She always loved Jason’s tattoos.

“That’s deep, but I’m not looking to find a relationship with pain.”

He looked at me closely and licked his lips. “That’s why I love you. You’re such an angel. I’m probably the devil, sucking the life out of your soul. You’re welcome,” he said mindlessly and it caused her to frown.

“I’m going to ignore all of what you just said, except for the fact that you love me.”

“And I think you’re telling fibs, Miss [Y/L/N],” Jason said, and she could tell by the grin forming on his lips that it was something to tease her. “You say you don’t like pain, was you or was you not wanting me to get kinky during our little late night escapade the other night? Something about a spanking?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I think you love pain, babygirl, but don’t worry, I adore giving it to you.”

“That sounds like you’re willing to knife me if I asked,” she said and he looked at her.

“I don’t want to emotionally hurt you because, well, you’re my girl and I could never. But if you came to me saying you had some sort of weird knife fetish and you wanted me to cut you a little while taking you from behind, I’d be willing to satisfy your needs.”

“That’s so creepy,” she muttered.

“Do you have a knife kink?” he asked, and she shook her head almost instantly. “Then you don’t have to worry about it. I’d never knife you without permission,” he smirked.

“Good to know.”

It took a few more seconds before Jason announced it was ready, and when he did, she took a deep breath.

“What if I do it wrong? Or I mess up? Or it slips?” she rambled.

“Baby, I’m pretty sure you just recited everything that was going through my head when I was about to take your virginity,” he laughed and she did, too. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, happens. If it goes wrong, it’ll be a funny story to tell. Just do it, I want this.”

“What do you want?” she asked and he shrugged as though he was unsure on what he wanted for dinner, not what he wanted inking on his skin for the rest of his life.

“I really liked that piece you made a few weeks ago.” She remembered which one it was because she remembered him complimenting it over and over again.

“The lion?”

“With the crown,” he said, nodding his head.

“I don’t know about this, Jason-”

“Do it. Do it. Do it,” he urged. She watched him grab the end of his T-shirt and pull it over his head, his hair fell in his eyes. “Where do you think I should have it?”

“Aren’t there supposed to be stencils first?” she asked as she got to her feet, scrambling through the drawers for the piece of paper with the drawing on. Once she found it, she plopped herself back down on the floor.

“I’m thinking on my back, my arms are too full- ooh, I want it here,” he said, pointing to his upper right arm.

“Jason. Stencils.”

“[Y/N]. No.”

She huffed impatiently. “You’re gonna live with this mistake for the rest of your life, don’t come crying to me when you wanna break up and a check for a tattoo removal.” She shuffled closer.

“I’ll make sure to suffer in silence,” he said sarcastically. “Ink me, baby.”

She knew it was a bad idea, she was surprised Jason didn’t think so, but she liked the idea of having her art on Jason’s skin. It was like putting art upon art to her.

She moved a shaking hand towards his skin, and Jason sat waiting patiently. He looked calm and it relaxed, as though he trusted her, either that or he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

The needle touched his skin and he didn’t move a muscle. She began to do her thing, creating the image he wanted, the best she could. Her mind raced as she permanently marked his skin.

“I can’t wait to do yours,” he said, crushing the silence. She tried to keep a steady hand. “You’re going to look so beautiful.”

She didn’t reply; she couldn’t. The needle let out a harsh buzz that became normal and seemed necessary to their surroundings once it had been going on for so long. It vibrated against her hand and it tickled her fingers.

She could hear the world passing by outside. Cars roared and birds screeched to one another while the wind blew the branches on the trees against their will. The world was going on about its normal life and here she was. She tried to let the ambient sounds calm her heart.

“How’s it going?” he asked, but again, she didn’t trust herself to speak; if she spoke, her hand would twitch or her body would jerk. With the needle pressing into Jason’s soft skin, she couldn’t afford that.

She could see the outline of the lion forming, and it didn’t look too bad to her surprise. She felt relieved for only a moment.

It took her about an hour, but it felt like forever. She could no longer feel her legs but it felt somewhat worth it when she saw Jason’s grin as he looked at it.

The lion face forward, looking bold and brave. The crown hooped around its left ear and only added to the lion’s status.

“I love it, baby,” he said. “You’re so good. Shit.”

“You never asked me what that piece represents,” she hinted, feeling her heart beating hard but not with fear or nervousness.

“Tell me.” He looked at her with meaning.

“It’s you. You’re the lion. To me, it’s what you are. You’re brave and mighty and so, so capable. And I know for certain no one is able to protect me like you are. The crown, well, that’s self explanatory,” she said. Her cheeks, she was sure, had turned pink. She didn’t care though.

“I’m your King?” he grinned.

“Elvis Presley is my King, but you’re a close second,” she giggled and fell into him. His arm fell around her shoulder.

“I’ll take that. Don’t you dare ever tell anyone this, but you just made my heart do a couple’ flips,” he muttered into her ear and she felt a shiver run its fingers down her back. He pecked the side of her head sweetly. “And now, my turn.”

Now she’d accomplished giving Jason his tattoo, she didn’t feel so scared, she was excited, almost. There was something beautiful in tattooing each other, even if it was completely stupid at the same time.

“Where do you want it?” he asked and she thought carefully. He seemed to be waited patiently but [Y/N] knew he was excited.

“I’m thinking my rib, or my hip.” Her bottom lip became prisoner to her teeth. “My rib,” she decided.

“Say no more, lay down for me, princess.” She did as he said after she’d pulled her T-shirt over her head, her chest was open for his eyes and she caught him staring for a second before darting his eyes away.

“Now,” he announced. “What do you want? It can’t be one of my drawings unless you want a tattoo of your face,” he chuckled.

“Surprise me.” It surprised her how confident that had left her lips, it seemed to have the same effect on Jason, too.

“Are you sure?” he asked and she nodded. “Alright, no pressure, then.” He breathed out as he bent over her, she felt his arm graze her nipple and she tried not to react.

The needle touched her skin for only a moment and it made her body stiffen noticeably.

“I know, it’s a shock at first,” he muttered. “But you’ll get used to it, if not, it’ll go numb soon enough. Just don’t pass out on me, ‘kay?”

It was an unusual sensation that caused her to clench her jaw tightly, she could feel her teeth pressing painfully together. She attempted to focus her mind on anything but the pain, it was easier said than done, however.

“This’d be much easier if you happened to have a knife fetish,” he joked and she laughed, or she tried to. “You could just masturbate and pretend I was running a knife across your skin.” She looked and saw him smirking. She was starting to think maybe he had a knife fetish.

“Is it almost over?” she asked with hope and pain laced in her voice.

It took less time than hers did, but it still took at least another twenty minutes. It was probably the most painful half an hour of her life.

“What do you think?” he asked as he wiped it down. His eyes burned into it.

Looking down at her ribcage, she saw two angel wings, similar to the ones he had on his neck. She gasped at how perfect it looked.

“I love it,” she smiled without the need to force it.

“You’re my angel,” he said, he didn’t say anything after that, but [Y/N] felt she didn’t need to hear anything else about it; she understood. She was sure her heart was swelling.

After that, it was as though they couldn’t get enough. Jason convinced her to let him tattoo the tiniest of J’s on her neck, just under her ear, while she got revenge by doing the same on his chest.

Art was beautiful to each of them, but seeing their own creations on each other’s bodies - so much meaning to them and probably so little to strangers - it made the entire concept so much more beautiful.

Jason kissed over the ‘J’ on her skin a few hours later while they laid together in bed, letting his fingers trail over the angel wings that were still healing. He knew some part of him would always be with her, no longer just a memory, but proof. Proof that such intense adoration does exist.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, I’d be fibbing if I said I didn’t want your touch. I catch your eyes sometimes on me and I remember the rush. I loved how you changed my world, it was so fast paced and upbeat. It made society uncomfortable. Our world hurling itself into our flames. We left destruction in our paths and when we held hands the world caught flame. We were a burning hot mess of feelings, anxiety, depression and anger. But our passion was glorious. And I’m not sure if I’ll ever get a love that intense ever again. And don’t you dare walk out of my life and not notice the third degree burns on my heart. Our world was destined to fall apart.
As soon as I laid my eyes on you I knew I was a fire no one could extinguish. But you were my gasoline and, God did we feed off each other.
But now that you’re gone my world is a stop motion. Stopping and going when it pleases. But I’m so used to the next, that the now is unbearable. But I swear, I’d rather spend eternity in this now, the now where my heart is no longer a burning flame, but a cool breeze everyone finds lovely. And maybe it’s a little colder than I’m used to, but everything has changed. I can’t keep torturing myself waking up and screaming your name, I can’t keep giving myself false hope that you’ll look my way and our world will snap back into orbit. That’s not how this works. That’s not how this is supposed to be. Trust me honey I love(d) you. And I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to again. But I look at my stop motion world and accept my now, because it’s all I’ll ever have to look forward to. And I’ll pick now any day, over when we were then.
—  A excerpt from a story I’ll never write.
Mr. Good Mood -- an open prompt ‘verse

A very special fuck you to @thatravenclawbitch​ and @tinuviel-undomiel​ for foisting this off on me. Also please send me prompts because I don’t know what happens next.

Belle has a very lovely one night stand with an older man the night before brunch with her roommate’s dad. No points are awarded for guessing the result.


Belle French was on track for a pretty good Sunday. For one thing, she’d had plans to go to brunch with her roommate Neal and his dad. For another, she woke up in a pretty nice hotel room and not their shared apartment in Brooklyn. This place had super fluffy pillows, lots of windows, and absolutely no Neal Cassidy to have overheard the sex she’d had with a strange older man the night before. He liked to tease her about her daddy issues, but if either of them had those it was, quite frankly, him. She just liked a man who knew what he was doing in bed, and this one definitely had. Suffice to say, she was in a particularly good mood.

Mr. Good Mood himself was already awake and watching her sleep, though he pretended to look away as soon as he realized she’d caught him looking.

“Good morning,” she said, stretching out languidly. “Did you sleep well?”

Keep reading