#I have many rehearsals to attend now

[flashingbands]

Hey everybody, I don't know how many people this will reach, but I am taking a break from this account! Nothing major, just a week or two until I can get everything irl back together, I will still be posting on my main account: Alchamyx for those wondering! Thank you all for understanding!

[figuerockfaeth]

WHY CANT I BE SLEEPY AT BEBDTIME

[fuxuannie]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | kenji sato x gender neutral reader

love mail — reallllyy quick req from a friend (this took 20 mins pls bear w me) ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ i love u all chu chu, this is an OVERLY done trope with this song but guys please let me 😞 be delulu

︰꒱꒱ YOU AND KENJI USED TO BE BEST FRIENDS. you met when he transferred to america, and it was mostly due to connections. it was around the time he had gotten popular, but not quiet there yet — and you had been part of an underground band that began gaining traction as well. you two got along well, late night banters, him listening to you sing while he would practice baseball.. you became each others routines. his practices would feel empty without your presence, and your singing wasn't as fun without him.

when he had to move back, you were devastated. you were both at the highest points of your careers, and you relied heavily on each other during an equally difficult time — so to hear him have to leave, and not even sure for how long.. it scared you. he'd likely be missing so many of your milestones, and it's not like you could beg him to stay either. you two were.. just friends. nothing more. even if your heart screamed at you to be something more, to tell him that as you dropped him off at the airport, — when he turned his back away from you and was about to enter.. when he actually looked back before going inside. regret finally settled in when he was no longer in view, and you crumbled, feeling lost as you realized you couldn't see him anymore.

years have passed since that day, and you eventually had to move on. life gets busy, after all. bu5 it wasn't like you weren't keeping tabs on him, though. you had his games livestreaming during rehearsals and you would even watch some of his interviews in japan. one of these days, however — you had accidentally kept a live interview running as you entered the room of your makeup department, preparing for your third live performance of your big tour. not getting to see the rest of the stream as the question for ken sato followed; "with the giants big comeback season coming to an end, do you ever plan to return to america?" the journalist asked curiously, and kenji only laughed — feeling rather excited to answer the question. "yes, actually. i'll be attending a concert with a few old friends, and i'm looking forward to that."

he looked straight to the camera, his smile soft, — he was hoping, praying that you were watching. "i'm coming back, sweetheart."

the fifth night was the biggest one the whole tour, it had completely sold out tickets — and that made you worry. not only that, but now the rumors of ken sato coming back to america were going around.. and the coincidences — they seemed to align a bit too well. but you shook your head, deciding something as trivial as someone from your past be a distraction was something you weren't about to let slide, so you close your laptop and meet your bandmates back stage, chatting away about how exciting tonight was going to be.

on the other hand, kenji arrived in america yesterday. missing just the fourth night of your tour. and decided to plan a little surprise for you, with the power of connections — he had gotten in touch with your manager and bandmates, and it was going to be the most memorable performance of your career.

"how about singing 'still into you' by paramore for our last song?" your drummer suggested, smiling cheekily. "a cover song? a strange suggestion," you respond, only for your guitarist to chime in with an equally endearing smirk. "not at all, we all know the song anyway. i used to play it for my gigs." he shrugged, and you eyed your amazing bandmates curiously. "are you all plotting something...?"

"absolutely not.."

"you're crazy!"

"we just want to play a good song to end the night."

despite their obviously suspicious responses, you shrugged it off. it was a pretty catchy song anyway, and who knows — maybe you'll get to let out those unsaid feelings for kenji through singing.. hoping he'd hear, even if it felt crazy to even imagine that he'll hear, or reciprocate.

the stadium had slowly filled up with people, and in only an hour there were now hundreds of people waiting for your band to show up on stage, — and you still didn't feel any less nervous even after four other shows prior to this. your manager noticed your nerves, and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "you'll kill it, (name)." she tells you, giving a big smile. "just perform the last song and you'll be able to head home, yeah?" and that helped you feel a little better.. only a few songs, and perform the cover song, and you will be able to rest again. yeah.. not so bad! you can do this. you will do this.

taking a deep breath — you're the first one to enter the spotlight; people cheered your name, and you relished in the feeling. god, you wouldn't trade performing for the world. as you introduced the rest of your bandmates, who received an equal amount of uproar and applause, you spoke into the mic. "thank you, everyone! we're excited to perform here tonight, — and we've got a special surprise for you at the end, so make sure to stick around for that!" you smiled, the crowd going insane with cheers. all your problems seemed to melt away when you were on stage and infront of an audience.

as you performed the last original song of your band, the applause seemed to only get louder after each ending. you had sat down on the stage, dangling your feet on the edge as you tried to get a little interactive with the audience. "tonight, we're going to be performing a.. cover song! a little unusual, but the band seemed insistent on it — and who am i to deny my family?" you stood up, laughing as the crowd began to once again lose their absolute minds as the instrumental of 'still into you' began.

"you know your cue?" kenji couldn't even focus as he hid backstage, his eyes didn't leave you the moment you went out there and started singing. my god, you were as breath—taking as he remembered, and he put no effort into hiding how he felt as your manager rolled your eyes. "wait till the last few lines, loverboy. don't disappoint."

"some things just, some things just make sense and one of those is you and i!"

okay, maybe you needed this. these lyrics almost resonated with you personally, — with the feelings you've held back for years. you sang for someone who will never get to hear these words from you, and you sang with your entire heart, hoping that by some chance — maybe he'd know. (which he definitely did)

"and even after all this time—"

you needed a breather, and thank goodness the crowd started singing the next bit for you. as you were focused on breathing, your bandmates looked at each other, and to kenji hiding backstage. signaling it was almost his time. taking one deep breath, you continued, your smile much brighter and determined as you kept a firm grip on the mic.

"let em wonder how we got this far, cause i don't really need to wonder at all!" kenji felt a quick shove behind him, immediately rushing him to get on that stage behind you. he had a hoodie up and his head down so to the audience members who were far away — they didn't get a good look at the random hooded man on stage. but to the vip members? they were desperately trying to get a closer look, trying to make sense of who exactly the mysterious figure was. "yeah, after all this time—"

"i'm still into you,"

he'll start by lifting his head up as he walked towards you, and almost immediately, gasps erupt from the vip audience, making you a little confused. if only you saw the wide grinned kenji behind you, he looked like he was looking at an angel, and admittedly? you were one to him.

"i'm still into you,"

next to go was his hoodie, and that confirmed to everyone attending that night who exactly was on that stage with you. now the cheers were getting louder, a few audience members were even pointing behind you; did the visuals mess up? a few people seemed to notice your confusion, so the fans began to yell 'turn around!', so this had to be a visual issue. turning around, your heart drops.

"i'm still—" the sight of his smile, in person, after so long.. you felt your heart genuinely skip a beat as thousands of bottled up feelings suddenly came over you. and all you could do was clutch your microphone, needing to focus the song — with that being the very thin rope holding you back from erupting into tears.

"sweetheart." he calls for you, god, that nickname had you weak.

"—into you."

[boba-beom]

✮⋆˙ baby, I love you | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

PAIRING. fiancé!yeonjun x fiancée!reader GENRE. soft smut, fluff SYNOPSIS. after attending the rehearsal dinner two nights before your wedding day, the tension and excitement rises continuously. your fiancé has been working hard with the preparation of your future together, and it's only right you show him the love he deserves. WARNINGS. p w/ p, kinda sub!yeonjun, soft dom service top!!reader, oral (m. rec), body worship (m. rec), praise and praise and dirty praise, balls love, soft sex, breeding kink, simp talk from yeonjun hehe, petnames;(baby, love, pretty boy etc.) WC. 2.4k A/N. I've had these thoughts leaving and coming back so join my jjun brainrot with me 🫠 also took some inspo from Angel 2 Me — Mckay ft Jeff Bernat. enjoy reading!!!

pictures from twt accs @/page1305 and unknown T^T

tipsy giggles and gentle affirmations fill the room along with loose touches between you and your fiancé. the feathery touches that you've grown accustomed to is now something you'll be feeling for the rest of your lives together, and that's something you'll cherish forever.

yeonjun's waited so long to have time alone with you; after the both of you have been busy with schedules that included your hen and stag-dos, pictorials and now the rehearsal dinner—this was finally the only time you'll be able to be alone and relax together. you were told you can't sleep together the night before the wedding so this was your chance to show yeonjun how appreciative you were of his planning throughout the past few weeks.

it started with his gentle caresses during the dinner, though surrounded by close friends and family, that didn't stop him from giving you a kiss to your temple here and there, or a stray hand that was attached to your waist half of the time.

then came talking to your guests; memorable and fun conversations igniting the excitement towards their favourite pre-wedded couple. glasses upon glasses of what deemed to be a little more than an appropriate amount of alcohol had yeonjun's cheeks flushed and yours burning up ever so slightly, but because of the company by many, the buzz was just so exhilarating that neither of you held back—but told each other tipsy to borderline drunk was when you would stop.

and now you're having to go through with the consequences of heightened senses—minds a little clouded but not enough to not know what you're doing. the consequences being wet kisses along each other's necks, slow wandering hands along each other's torsos and not leaving an inch of skin untouched.

you've shared plenty of tipsy kisses with yeonjun throughout your long six years of your relationship but every experience was never the same as previous ones. there were times where yeonjun was a little needier than you were, or perhaps rougher than other times, but either way you've enjoyed every single moment with him.

at this moment you feel more love than you've ever felt. may it be the excitement of getting married to him, knowing that this will be the man you will be calling your forever, or perhaps it's the fact that you're two and a half champagne glasses in and your need for yeonjun has elevated.

you crane your neck to the side, your hands lingering over the warmth radiating off of yeonjun's bare, broad shoulders while your chest heaves from his gentle kisses across your bare skin.

"mmh, you're so beautiful baby." he mumbles against your collar bone, kissing up to the side of your neck and taking note not to mark you... for now.

a sigh slips past your parted lips, eyes shut and taking in the hot trails of his hands circling your waist. his hands fits your body perfectly like your missing puzzle piece that you can finally set in stone. your hands wrap around his wrists lightly, opening your eyes to look at him; lips swollen from scattering his invisible love marks that only you can feel.

"sit on the bed for me, sweetheart." you kiss the edge of his plush lips, leading him to the edge of the pristine white sheets provided in this pretty villa.

and as your future husband, he obliges, eyes hooded and hazy with lust and love only for you.

yeonjun sits a little past the edge of the bed, leaning back so his elbows supports his weight, still looking up at you with his dark orbs that twinkled with specs of longing for you to act on your next move. as you walk over to him, the bed dips from your knees shuffling on either side of his legs until you're hovering him.

"such a pretty boy under me like this." your thumb and finger lightly lifts his chin to look up at you, only then you could see the smirk on your lover's lips.

"you look so sexy from this angle, think you should do it more often." he shifts underneath you, leaning on one arm as the other stretches out for him to hold your waist and lower your panty cladded core onto his bulge prominent in his slacks.

"yeah? I could get used to this." you chuckle and he does too.

"well, we have forever together. I'll let you do it as many times as you want to." you gasp a little from his words, but more so from him guiding your hips to grind down on his erection ever so slowly.

you still your hips immediately, causing yeonjun to tilt his head in confusion.

"let me." you whisper.

remembering that it's your time to shower him with love and appreciation, you dip into the crook of his neck and lay delicate kisses against his lightly tanned skin. you loved when the sun kissed his skin, whether or not you're in broad daylight your fiancé always looked like he was glowing.

he returns to leaning on his arms, attentively watching you gradually kissing down his bare chest, down along his soft abs until you're kneeling on the floor between his legs and your fingers are fiddling with his belt.

"you've worked so hard lately," you start, kissing his clothed knee while you undo his belt. "I just wanna show you how grateful I am..." your voice trails, unzipping his slacks and sliding your fingers over the buldge in his calvin klein boxers. "... grateful I get to call you my husband in two days."

yeonjun lets out a sharp gasp once your fingers hook onto the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down along with his slacks to have them pool by his ankles then discard them with his white blazer somewhere in the room. he groans quietly from your fingers skimming down his shaft and back up to wrap around his girthy cock, pretty pink tip decorated in clear beads dribbling down his length.

"so, so pretty." your eyes look up at yeonjun's, his cheeks blushed while you stick your tongue out to taste the salty beads, and his sighs only get louder.

that was your sign to take him deeper into your mouth. you fist his cock slowly before enveloping your lips around the head, heavy on your flat tongue until you gradually swirl around his length, slowing down the movement when you feel the prominent vein against the middle of your tongue.

you've given head to yeonjun plenty of times and he loved every single one of them just as much as you enjoy giving it to him. every time you do, your first and foremost priority is to make him feel good, and this is no different with your eyes steady on yeonjun and taking more of his length until the head carefully bumps the back of your throat.

yeonjun just loves the feeling of your warm and wet mouth encapsulating his cock, hot and heavy while you stop your head and pulling off of him with a string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip.

"god that feels so good, I've been wanting to feel that mouth on me the past few days." he sighs, caressing your cheek then resorting to carding his fingers through your hair.

you suck on his pink, now red, tip, "then why didn't you say anything hunny?" your tongue immediately kitten licks his tip, having him twitch beneath you.

"because I didn't want to disrupt you," you sink down onto him, nose touching his pubic bone, "I know you're focused on- shit- wanting the best preparation for our big day."

you groan around his cock, throat sending pleasurable vibrations to the point yeonjun throws his head back with a moan a little louder than before. a few steady bobbing of your head and your throat contracting around his length has your eyes tearing up and yeonjun's moans picking up. luckily your shared room was the only one on the ground floor, but either way, you didn't care who would have heard the both of you regardless.

releasing his thick cock from your throat, you kiss down his shaft until your lips spoils his balls with soft kisses. the pace on his dick doesn't stop, your fist remains with steady pumps while you gently suck on his balls, toying your tongue around them. you know just how much yeonjun loves it when you play with his balls, almost guttural groans fill the room if it wasn't for his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

"fuck baby, c'mere." yeonjun hisses once you take his balls out of your mouth one more time.

with ease, you crawl back onto your man's lap, seated prettily with your hands instinctively wrapping around his shaft, another brief smirk displayed on his face from the sight of your thumb and fingers hardly touching.

"you've been such a good boy, planning out almost everything, hm?" your brows softly scrunch feigning pity. "working so hard to have everything perfect, is that right?"

your fist picks up the speed, slick sounds of your saliva mixed with his pre-cum only leads to yeonjun panting and whining in your hold.

"always wan- want everything perfect for you, baby." he fights his head from leaning back, fixating on the motion of your fist.

"mhm? and you deserve to feel good, hunny."

at this point you were leaning close to yeonjun's ear, whispering plenty of praises and kissing his lobes while his hair strands were slowly falling over his face, the hairspray somewhat keeping it intact. he's always been such a beautiful man, but something about watching him fall apart ignites something inside of you.

you still had your panties on, the only piece of clothing between the both of you, but yeonjun could already tell that it was about time to lose the article of clothing knowing just how damp it is from your cunt leaking.

"think it's about time you take this off," his voice raspy as he hooks on the band of your panties, releasing it and having it slap your hip.

"be a darling and take it off for me?"

the bed dips again as you kneel higher, your hands planting on his shoulders for support. you make it easier for yeonjun to pull your panties down your thighs in a teasing manner; his lips latching onto your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardening bud until your last piece of clothing falls past your ankles.

"you're so beautiful," he mumbles against your nipple, releasing it with a pop and moving onto the other. a sound nothing short of a quiet whimper escapes his lips once your hand returns to his cock, his mouth hanging open almost immediately once the pace of your fist picks up. "oh yeah- fuck baby just like that."

"faster?" you tilt your head to the side, the same soft brows scrunching and lips slightly pouting at his chest heaving.

"yes, yes please," he lets out a strangled cry and you giggle at the sound, knowing that your pussy's dripping over his lap, but you hold yourself from rutting against his thigh. you just want to prioritise his pleasure over yours. "wanna be inside you, pretty."

yeonjun reaches out to hold onto your hips, chests colliding from pulling you forward. he aligns his tip at your entrance, returning with his lips finally on yours, whispering sweet pleas and promises of wanting to make you feel just as good.

"relax baby," you mumble, lightly nibbling on his lip. "gonna have you cum inside me and fill me up."

you sink down onto him, walls squeezing him and full of his thick cock with his tip nudging against your cervix. the both of you moan in unison, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and his one hand on your waist to help you lift your hips and sink back down on him again.

"fuck jjunie, your cock's always stretching me out so good." you whimper as you throw your head back, repeatedly bouncing on his dick and feeling him already twitching inside.

"need, mph, need you to cum with me baby." his free hand moves between your sweaty bodies, fingers naturally rubbing quick circles on your clit. he's so eager to have you catch up with his high, knowing that you'll be cumming in no time from the double simulation.

his lips are back on yours again, swallowing each other's moans and whimpers. your walls are uncontrollably spasming around your lover's twitching dick and you could feel your orgasm catching up to his. yeonjun's hands are both holding onto your waist as he fully lays his back against the bed, holding you up while he whimpers, raising his hips up to drill into your swollen cunt.

"oh baby! yeonjun I'm gonna cum!" you almost squeal from his rapid pace, your hands wrapping around his wrists.

"gonna fill you up so full, gonna make you a mommy on our wedding night." he babbles.

with a couple more harsh thrusts up into your cunt and joint moans, your thighs start shaking around his legs, staccato pumps of warm white ropes gradually fills you up deliciously. yeonjun's hands soothingly rubs the surface of your thighs, panting beneath you as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

"so you really wanna start a family asap?" you ask him genuinely, leaning down and hovering over him as you peck up along his chest and neck, his dick still inside you.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind it." he kisses your forehead and lightly thrusts up into you, causing you to groan quietly in his hold as his cum leaks out slowly. "baby making's just too fun."

you scoff at his comment, shaking your head at him teasingly. once you've caught your breath you lean your head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

"I wouldn't mind it either, hunny." you say simply. "I think you'd be a great dad to our children."

yeonjun lifts his head at you abruptly, eyes a little wide in curiosity.

"children? how many? I can give you as many as you want."

you chuckle at his excitement. he's always been so fond of children and him wanting his own is a part of his dreams.

"you're so cute." you cup his cheek and caress his soft skin. "no more than three is enough for me. but give me time in between–"

"oh yeah, of course. I still wanna be able to make love to my wifey without as much disruption." he cuddles you tighter, littering your face with chaste kisses. "baby, I love you so much."

his smile melts your heart, and you still can't believe you're going to marry this wonderful man.

" and I love you so much more."

taglist: @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @ahnneyong @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @itaehynz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @moamidzyism @lovejoshua @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @beomnoullistheorem @seolis-world @jak-ey @my313 (send an ask to be part of the taglist! here's the spreadsheet for reference!)

feedback would be much appreciated <3 I haven't written in what feels like years T^T

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.

You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.

You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.

And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.

Is any of this going to work? Probably not.

The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.

You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.

When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.

You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.

The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.

"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.

"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"

"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."

"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."

"I won't sir." You hum.

The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.

"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."

"For?"

"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"

The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.

You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."

Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.

"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.

He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"

You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."

"An interview?"

You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."

He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"

"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?

Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."

"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.

He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"

Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.

You smile, "Yup."

"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."

His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.

With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.

Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."

The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.

"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.

You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.

You definitely made a decent first impression on him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.

Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.

You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-

You run right into someone in the hallway.

A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.

The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.

You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.

Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.

And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.

Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.

You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.

His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.

You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"

Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.

You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.

"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.

In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."

He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."

You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.

If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.

You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.

His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."

"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.

"Yup."

"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.

He shrugs, "Nah, not really."

You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"

"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"

You shrug casually, "Psycology."

The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."

"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."

He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."

"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.

Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."

"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.

He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.

Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."

"You think I'm hot?"

"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.

He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"

"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.

"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.

Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.

He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.

His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.

"Holy shit," You breathe out.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."

As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.

His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."

Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?

"R-Really?" You stammer.

His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.

The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.

You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.

"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.

You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.

"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.

A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.

He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."

You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."

"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.

"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.

His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.

You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.

Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.

You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.

"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.

He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.

From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.

What a day.

Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.

As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.

You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.

Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.

No feelings.

It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.

Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.

But...

Choso was so-

No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.

This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.

Your goal is to seduce not swoon.

That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.

No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.

The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.

The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.

No relationships.

No feelings.

No romance.

Just sex.

You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.

You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.

As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.

Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.

Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.

With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.

Yeah, you'll get through this.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[r0ttenhearts]

wasted on you |||

idol scaramouche x reader

part Ii

“ohmygosh, have you heard 4nemo’s new single?

“it’s sooo good (y/n!) you have to listen to it.”

“who’s your favorite one? mine would have to be scaramouche.”

your smile would always falter at the mention of his name. not like your friends ever knew you were acquaintanced with the idol group. “i don’t really like idol stuff, it’s not my thing.” you would always brush them off, refusing to take one of their earbuds to listen to the songs they wanted to show you.

hearing scaramouche’s voice again wouldn’t help you, not when you’ve gotten this far. not when you’ve moved on from him.

with college exams over and the end of your final year coming to a close you found yourself with nothing but time. with time came too many thoughts that would tumble around in your mind. too many what if’s and what could have been’s had plagued your mind since leaving scaramouche there backstage.

leaving him was so difficult, but being without him felt harder. you couldn’t help but sigh, now sitting alone in your room as the memories came back to you.

memories of splitting popsicles with him, after rehearsal drinks with his friends, smoking in a field together one of the rare times he was free from his filled schedule.

sometimes you couldn’t help but miss it. but then came the.. not so pleasant memories. the tears, the sore throat after screaming at each other, the way he’d always leave after an argument.

“please, scara! i just want you here with me. just this once. it’s been three years. give me this at least, please. i haven’t seen you in so long.”

remembering your own pleads to him never failed to make your heart ache. it still felt as if there was something unresolved, even after giving him his engagement ring back.

“i don’t wanna fucking see you (y/n)! id rather spend time with my friends doing something i enjoy than wasting my time with you.”

here comes the waterworks. tears would prick in the corners of your eyes when you remembered his tone that day. that angry look on his face.. he never looked so bothered before. it scared you so much that you still remembered it now, two years later.

it was strange seeing him on billboards and ads all across town and even on your own phone. in contrast to the angry glare he held for you, but an indifferent look to the public. would he still look at you that way? or would he look at you the same way he would everyone else?

curiosity got the best of you as you tapped on your phone, looking up his profile on instagram. there he was, looking the same as ever. maybe a little thinner but he still looked as beautiful as the day you left him.

a small smile graced your lips for a moment before it fell, seeing how much fun he had been having with his friends. you still kept in contact with kazuha, but never bothered to ask about him. you both knew it wouldn’t be good for you, so it was an unspoken rule.

“at least he’s doing well..” you mumbled to yourself before shutting off your phone. groaning internally, you knew this was a problem you had to deal with. this constant turmoil inside your head.

you decided you’d put an end to this. once and for all. you thought up a plan before texting kazuha, telling him what you wanted to resolve. despite his gentle warnings you wouldn’t listen. you just had to get through to him! make him understand your reasoning.

eventually kazuha gave in, and now you were standing in the pit to one of their concerts. it made you feel queasy remembering the last time you attended one. with your head hung low you waited for the group to start, they were opening for another up and coming idol group. it almost made you smile seeing scaramouche walk on stage with that glittery white outfit. the same glare on his features as before. he didn’t change, did he?

that sentiment making anxiety well up inside of you. you didn’t know how he would take it. seeing you again after so long. but you didn’t want him to know you were there to begin with, so you hid away from view, angled at a way that you could still watch them perform.

watching them now reminded you of one of the first concerts you ever went to of theirs, thanks to scaramouche getting tickets for you. that feeling of bubbling excitement and anxiousness when they were still so early in their career. you used to genuinely hope that they would make it, and they did!

his singing was stronger than it used to be, voice full of emotions as his eyes were fixated on the mic. a part of you missed this. coming to his shows, watching him give his all to the crowd of people that came just to see him and his friends.

as the group left the stage you sent a text to kazuha, walking away from the crowd and to the meeting spot he had told you about. it wasn’t like you didn’t already know where they were going, they always went to the same bar after every performance.

pushing open the grimy doors to the bar, you could see his back as you walked in. scaramouche was sitting at a table with his friends, drink in hand already as you walked up to them. you pulled out a seat next to scaramouche, crossing your arms over your chest as the guys looked at you excitedly, scaramouche not sharing the same sentiment.

“hey guys, long time no see.” heizou laughed loudly, patting scaramouche on his shoulder as they left the table. now it was just you and scaramouche.

he held this look of shock on his face, like he’d seen a ghost. his mouth slightly opening and closing, almost like a fish.

“hey.” you said softly, putting your hand on his arm. “are you real?” he asked you, now looking directly at you rather than trying not to meeting your gaze.

“of course i am, what do you mean by that? have you been dreaming about me too?” you ask, half joking but half serious as he had been plaguing your dreams for the past few months.

“don’t say things like that (y/n)..” he spoke quietly, taking a sip of his beer. you nod silently, watching him take a sip of his drink.

“i know, this is kind of weird. especially since i’m the one that left you but, it’s been haunting me. and i just want to talk.” you admit to him, looking down at your hands. suddenly your nails seemed much more interesting than to look at him.

“yeah, i think we’re due for that.” he said before sliding his drink over, taking your hands in his without warning. “look, (y/n). i know that back then i wasn’t great to you, far from it actually. i’ve thought about what you said to me that night ever since. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, nor am i asking you to get back together with me. but i just want you to know that i’m sorry. i regret wasting us, wasting what we had. i do love being an idol, but it doesn’t give me the same satisfaction as i got when i was with you.”

you nodded silently at his words, looping your arms around his neck as you hugged him. the words you had longed to hear were now finally being said. “that’s all i wanted.” you spoke quietly in his ear, your voice cracking with tears. “i just wanted that from you scara.”

you wiped your tears away as you pulled back, taking one of his hands in both of yours. “i want to be in your life again, not as lovers, not yet. but as friends. i’ve missed you all this time.” scaramouche nodded, taking his free hand and placing it on top of yours. “i can work with that.”

what you both didn’t see were the rest of the boys from 4nemo watching the scene unfold from the bar window. heizou’s loud cheering being shushed by xiao as both of your heads whipped to the window, red covering your faces in embarrassment.

taglist: @lemons4u @foxkunwoof @s-h-i-r-o-8-1 @felixilations @kaxukaxu @angelofdarkness2 @trxshhsstufftatsumimiko @ycugtf @nervouseaglelover @whorerificstuff @samarill

[ilovejoostklein]

hii, a little request. could we get sum eurovision singer!reader with joost?? maybe after their endless flirting they end up having a one night stand in their hotel room😵‍💫 and after eurovision ends reader is caught by some fans attending joost’s concert in vancouver or they are seen attending a club together and being all cozy😫 sorry if it’s to much, feel free to decline🫶🏻

i got you! 💙

-

Little Stars

You’re Joost’s favorite girl at Eurovision

nsfw: smut, some fluff

-

The entire competition served more as an ego boost than as a popularity boost to your career. You were always an extrovert. As a child, you always got the same cliché comments that you’d either be a great lawyer or a performer, and you decided to choose the option that wouldn’t cause you to have a lifetime of boredom. It certainly helped that your parents stuck you in every extracurricular activity, dance, gymnastics, volleyball, to have an outlet for your energy and love for being the center of attention.

You’d discovered your singing talents from your father, who was an amateur singer. On weekend mornings, when the morning dew would still be on the plants, pale golden sunlight illuminating the streets of your city you’d rush down the stairs to join him when you heard the gentle strumming of his guitar with the song of the morning birds. 

You two would sing a song together, the neighbors always taking a moment to listen from the windows or their doorsteps, people walking by smiling at you or taking a moment to talk. Your parents were adamant that you were born to be on stage, your family and neighbors nicknamed you their little star. 

You first gained popularity after posting a few covers on YouTube when you were a teenager. It wasn’t much in terms of internet fame, a couple of thousand followers, and your most popular video getting a little over 100,000 views but it was surreal to you at the time. You always stuck to ballads, your voice strong and from your high stamina, you could belt out notes that lasted miles. It wasn’t until you showcased your dancing talents that your popularity seemed to ignite. 

At first, it scared you a bit, but the attention was overwhelmingly positive besides the few comments from older people in your country who damned the youth and their nerve to have fun. You realized that your singing could only take you so far, millions of other people had nice voices, but few could captivate an audience like you with your stage presence. Before you knew it, you had enough money to hire a manager and move yourself and your parents to a nicer part of town. Your name spread across parts of Europe, and you became somewhat of a celebrity, selling out small venues and playing a few festivals. 

You came from truly humble beginnings, and you suspected that was why so many audiences connected with and favored you, and a large reason why your application to Eurovision to represent your country was accepted. You were beautiful, incredibly talented, and had a larger-than-life charisma. In interviews and press conferences, it was the best thing, especially in the unique and rather tense climate of this year’s competition, but backstage was a completely different person. 

You quickly gave yourself a reputation of being a flirt. You wore skimpy, bright outfits adorned with glitter and rhinestones with every practice and rehearsal. When you weren’t about to perform, you still wore mini skirts and the tiniest top imaginable. You walked around with your body practically on full display, some parts of your skin being hardly covered with fishnets or tights. You lived up to your nickname as being a star, the other contestants hearing it from your parents, but being grown up and leaning into your sensuality you were more like Venus now, your presence scorching, bright, and exigent. 

Beside you in the sky of stars was Joost. If you had been a little star, he was the sun itself. You two had taken a liking to each other almost immediately and nearly became attached at the hip. It was far from platonic, but you found yourself amused at how you two could be able to flirt with each other so shamelessly and without constraint without doing more than hugging. 

“Hi, baby.” You greeted him in one of the lounge areas for breakfast. It became an inside joke between you to constantly use silly pet names. It was very early morning, and the sun and blue skies were hardly present. “Can I sit with you this morning?” You smiled. 

“You already know the answer, honey.” He smiled back. You loved how his smile would take up his entire face, you felt you could never get tired of looking at it. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.” 

It was the day of the rehearsal before the finale, and the nerves hadn’t quite gotten to you yet. You nodded, watching as he fixed your plate with your usual breakfast order that he picked up. It was a sweet gesture that warmed your heart, you were beyond thankful to have someone who took you into their arms the way that Joost had. 

You two sat down together at a corner table. You watched as sunlight blanketed his features. It reflected into the ridge of his nose and illuminated his eyes, you found yourself staring into them, never seeing eyes that reminded you of the crystal blue waters of the beach you grew up by.

“Your eye contact scares me.” He chuckled, the direct comment making you feel your heart drop to your feet. “It’s ok, gives me an excuse to look at you.”

“You have nice eyes.” You said, ripping a piece of your croissant that Joost had fried in the microwave, despite you asking it to be lightly warmed. “This is super cold, by the way.” You said, pushing the first piece into his mouth. 

The bread burned his tongue a bit, but he was able to ignore the pain when he felt your fingers in his mouth. He bravely ran his tongue over the pads of your fingers, sucking down gently all while keeping his eyes set on you. You were speechless for a moment, seeing and feeling his sinfully pink tongue on your fingers before you were able to pull away. 

“You drooled on me.” You looked down at your hand, seeing there were still crumbs on your fingers, and pushed them into your mouth. You watched Joost’s eyebrows raise as he stiffened in his seat, feeling himself getting far so excited so early in the morning. 

You tasted him in your mouth, the sickeningly sweet syrup from his waffles and the bitterness from his coffee. “There’s crumbs on my fingers.” You said, “You don’t lick your fingers to get food off?” 

“No,” He spoke, his tone a bit hushed, “I like to lick my fingers.” 

You blushed at his comment, always catching the innuendo but never pushing it further. The two of you sat in silence for a moment to let the tension cool, as you always did when it became too unbearable. 

“You’re the only performer who changes your outfits.” Joost was always the first to break the silence. “How short will your skirt be tonight?” 

You laughed, “Shorter than last night.” You answered, his dimples giving away his amusement. “Your outfit is one of my favorites though.” 

“Ah.” He said happily, “What do you like about it?”

“The color is nice.” You complimented, seeing in his face how much he loved the attention. “Is it hard to take off?”

He withdrew a bit, smiling knowingly but deciding to beat around the bush as you two formed a habit of doing. “Not really.” He said. “It’s very easy, I don’t need any help at all.” His answer was excruciating.

You rolled your eyes, “Well, I need a lot of help with mine.” You began, “There’s so many hooks and zippers, it’s so annoying.”

Joost hummed in absentminded agreement. You saw on the vacant expression on his face, and how he went back to eating his breakfast that you’d give him too vivid of a picture. All he could imagine now was being alone with you in the dressing room, undoing all the hooks and zippers you were talking about. He’d want to rip apart those fishnet stockings you always wore, the thought of seeing the gentle threads snap apart from his hands revealing your soft skin drove him wild. The imagery became too much eventually, and he felt a bit of shame when he saw your gentle, unknowing face across him. 

“You know you’re gonna win, right?” You said suddenly, making his expression drop into something deathly serious.

“It would be nice.” He mumbled nervously, his nerves entangling themselves together even tighter than before. “You think so?”

“No, Joost.” You glanced at the clock on your phone, realizing you’d spent too much time at breakfast. “I said I know you’re doing to win.” 

The night of the semi-final had solidified Joost’s obsession with you, but he realized he was in a long line of admirers. It was like he was in a trance, your voice like a siren’s, and the way your outfit glittered and reflected onto the bright light, it was surreal. He wanted to congratulate you after, but he saw that a crowd had already formed around you, specifically that the Croatian performer, Baby Lasagne, another favorite, had beaten him to it. 

Joost watched from afar, how you smiled constantly and looked so animated talking to him. His hands grazed your bare arm a few times, and every time it felt like it tugged on his heart in a horrible, unfamiliar sensation. It pained him a bit to know that you were known as a flirt, wondering if the way you looked at him and clung by his side meant anything at all or if it was all a part of some game. 

He saw you again walking down the hall when he felt a tap at his side. He knew it was you immediately, turning around he couldn’t help but bring you into a hug that left your feet dangling as he rambled on about how well you did. 

“Are you kidding?” You said, holding onto his neck before he set you down. “You’re fucking amazing Joost, I loved watching you.”

He scoffed, looking down at you still in your outfit, it was like he was dreaming. He yearned to keep his hands on your waist, but his better senses got the better of him, and his arms returned to his side. 

“I think everyone loved watching you more.” He began, remembering how he had to watch another man try to charm you the way he’d been for the past few days. “I don’t have people crowding me after I perform.”

You raised your eyebrows, remembering how the Croatian performer came up to you to talk you up, offering to take you for a drink and inviting him back into his room, an offer that you left to a ‘maybe’ just to keep him hanging. You saw Joost at the end of the hallway, now realizing that he didn’t just happen to be there but he was watching.

“You sound jealous.” You teased, seeing a blush begin on his face, like red wine spilling on pristine sheets. “Anyways, I’ve got to get going.”

Joost hated when you did that, knowing that you had nothing to do but sit in your room, drink obnoxiously expensive liquor, and talk about equally as obnoxious things with your friend. He wished he had it in him to ask to go back with you, but the fear of rejection always struck too hard and quickly for him to take advantage of the moment. 

The day of the finale, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone but Joost that he’d won, and you’d been the runner-up. You didn’t have much of a competitive spirit, the experience of Eurovision alone already felt like a victory in itself. When it was announced that he’d won, you two hugged in front of what felt like a sea of cameras and you were able to sneak a kiss on his cheek before he went up on stage to be awarded. There was far too much commotion directly afterward to see him again, it was physically painful to feel him slipping away from you and realize that this, like all good things, was all finally ending.

Joost found you again in the early hours of the morning, holding flowers at your door dressed down in a simple t-shirt and jeans from his short night out to come to personally congratulate you. He noticed you weren’t at any of the after parties, and even his own which admittedly stung a bit. He had an evening flight the next day, so he could stand to lose a bit of sleep if it meant seeing you one last time. 

You answered the door in a robe, from your exposed skin it seemed like nothing else was underneath. You smiled and laughed to conceal the overwhelming feelings that filled your chest from the gesture.

“You’re so sweet, Joost.” You said as you took the small bouquet from him. “I have some champagne in my room if you want to share, it for the winner.”

Joost felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, freeing him from the torturous game you’d forced him to play as he finally was alone with you. Whether or not he’d leave with anything didn’t matter, he just wanted a moment with you that wasn’t in the halls or the lounges. 

Your room was serene and surprisingly organized, unlike his with bottles piled on the coffee table and clothes all over the couch. The lights were low, and soft music played in the background, by the look of the skincare products on the vanity it seemed that he’d interrupted your bedtime ritual. 

He watched as you poured a sparkling glass of champagne for him, clinking your glasses together before taking a sip. It was a bit sweet for his liking, but it made sense if it was coming from you. He knew you were the type to overindulge, like a child of Dionysus you lived for worldly pleasures and your enjoyment alone. He wondered if he would be a part of those pleasures if you’d fall into him like you did your other vices. 

“I’m going to spend a little bit more time here.” You said, “I’ve never been to Sweden before.” 

Joost nodded, knowing that you came from a small city and that all this travel was probably the best thing in the world for you. “I leave tomorrow.” His tone was a bit disappointed. “I would’ve liked to stay a little longer though.”

You hummed in agreement, “So,” You began, setting down the half-finished glass of your drink. “You only came to give me flowers?”

He felt his grip tighten on the delicate glass, looking down at you, he noticed that the fabric of the robe had fallen forward a bit, exposing a bit of your naked chest and body. “No.” He confessed, “Just an excuse to see you, the flowers were mine.”

“It’s rude to regift.” He hated your teasing, he hated the ever-present sensuality in your voice. “Alright, well, you saw me.”

You watched as Joost’s eyes widened at you, a desperate look on his face from how insufferable you had become. He knew that you had seen right through him this entire time, and he felt that you were now making a mockery of him. Even if he was the one with the dishonest motives, if he was the one staring down your robe, he felt that he was completely naked in front of you.

“You’re too much.” He mumbled, fumbling with the intricate buckle of his belt and swirling the champagne in his cup. “You don’t even come to my fucking party.”

You smiled at him, but not like you had been doing before, “Is that belt bothering you?” You asked before reaching over, your hands gently moving his away. “Let me help you.”

You undid his belt with a bit of a struggle, finally pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor. Joost felt his breath get caught in his throat, looking down at you as you undid the button to his jeans that now felt suffocating and pulled down the zipper. The sound of his clothing coming off echoed in his mind and made him grow rigid. He tried to relax, trying to see you for what you were, someone who was just as crazy for him as he was for you, instead of someone who had the upper hand. 

You couldn’t bear to deny yourself anymore, the tension finally snapping loose as your fingers dipped underneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down in one desperate, fluid motion. Joost began to step away so that he’d be able to sit down on the chair across from you, his pants and underwear pooling at his ankles as you followed shamelessly. 

You mused at his size, wrapping your hand around the base you couldn’t help but take it all in. Joost was pretty, all of him was so fucking pretty. His dick looked perfect in your hands, just big enough that you knew it would hurt and prove itself to be a challenge that you were eager to take on. His skin radiated warmth, it was softer than any other man you’d touched. You nearly salivated the longer you pumped him in your hand, drawing out soft groans before you finally took him into your mouth. 

It was as if you were a groupie how enthusiastic and sloppy you were. He watched through half-lidded eyes as you took all you could, your hands pumping at the base of what you struggled to fit. Your tongue was sinful, swirling around his shaft and sensitive tip, sucking him off so well he began to lose all rationality, wondering how crazy it would be if he asked you to be his girlfriend after all of this. 

Joost grabbed the glass of champagne and began drinking again, the rush of sweetness on his tongue paired with getting head from his new favorite girl was heavenly. His ego had completely taken over, he was a winner and deserved to feel like it. He wanted to have you for as long as he could. He didn’t want to finish like this, so he poured himself another glass and pulled your head away gently so that you’d face him. 

“Kiss it.” He said, the glass sparkling and bubbling alongside his eyes that now were drowned out by his pupils. “Look at me while you do it.”

Your body grew numb at his request, seeing him rip the control that you once had as he sat in your room, drinking your champagne with his fingers tangled in your hair telling him to kiss his dick for him. He knew you liked to put on a show, using it to his advantage he watched from above, glass to his lips before you listened. 

You felt passionate desire pour out of you as you mindlessly kissed and licked on his dick. You pressed sloppy, wet kisses all over, sucking down gently on the tip as he watched quietly, suppressing his moans and taking sips of his drink. The only sounds were coming from you, you moaned from the pleasure it gave you to be touching him, and how much you loved the feeling of your saliva and his pre cum dripping all over your face. 

Your lips were plush and greedy against him, the sight itself better than the sensation. When he’d finally had enough, he pulled you up so that you’d be sitting on his lap, your face was a bit too messy, so he took a makeup wipe from your vanity and gently cleaned your face. 

“Here,” Joost offered the last sip of champagne from his glass, “Wash your mouth.”

He pressed the cool glass to your lips and watched as you drank until there was nothing left. He finally pulled you into an impatient kiss, but it was much softer than you expected. He kissed you tenderly, his arms holding your body taut, so much that you felt his heartbeat against yours. You could tell even if this was all unintended and in the heat of the moment, the feelings you shared underneath were all genuine. 

You held his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms. You wished you could stay like that forever, but the ache in between your legs would never allow you. You lowered one hand so that you could untie the knot on your silky robe and let it fall off your shoulders. Joost felt the shift in the fabric and moved one hand up to cup your breast and squeezed down, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 

He left a trail of kisses on your neck, sucking down on the sensitive skin before leaving a mark right below your ear so that he’d give you something to remember him properly. It was crimson, deep, and loving, you wished that he’d even left more. You loved the feeling, and you let him know with the way you squirmed in his thigh and whined with every kiss. 

As much as he enjoyed moving slowly, the time was passing by too quickly and he was animalistic in his desire to fuck you. It felt as if he’d been putting out for a lifetime, his better judgment was non-existent. He paid just enough attention to your breasts, he’d hate to neglect something so perfect, kissing them lovingly, before kissing down your stomach down to your thighs.

Joost kissed in between your thighs slowly. His lips lingered too closely to where they should’ve been teasing you to the point it felt cruel. As you watched his languid motions, how much intention and care he put into every touch, you could tell how crazy he was for you, how your flirting had driven him to this madness. Your hand ran through his hair as he continued to press soft kisses against your skin, making him look up at you with a pleading expression, 

“Can I?” He asked in a strained whisper, you blushed a bit seeing him soften so much and ask the most obvious question. 

“Please.” You could hardly speak seeing him like that, he was unrecognizable from the man you’d known before. “I’m yours.”

He wondered if you could peer into his mind into his deepest desires. Joost ate you out as his thoughts raced, somehow without the overt focus it felt so much more natural and perfect for you. He was operating on pure instinct now, his mind elsewhere, thinking ahead to when he’d get to fuck you as his mouth preoccupied itself. He moaned against you, his warm tongue lapping against your clit desperately. The sounds you made only made him more determined, so much so that he couldn’t feel the ache in his jaw and weakness in his tongue. 

His thoughts then floated to the image of when he’d make you cum. The taste of you was addicting, better than an ice-cold shot of his favorite liquor and the first cigarette out of a fresh box. The taste of you dripped down his chin like biting into an overly ripe peach, messy, sticky but inexplicably perfect. He kept your trembling thighs apart with his strong hands, like the skin of a fruit as delicate as a peach he was careful not to hurt you, but you seemed to become more beautifully vocal when his fingers would dig down into your flesh. 

“I’m close.” You mumbled, not wanting to lose your high, the feeling of your orgasm building steadily in the bottom of your stomach. “Please don’t stop Joost.”

He forced himself to listen, if time wasn’t against him he would’ve edged you to the point of tears until you would be coming undone, ripping at the seams for a well-deserved orgasm rather than one so easily given. His soft lips pressed down on your clit, sucking down gently he knew you weren’t going to last too long, but just to make sure he traced your entrance with two long fingers and  fucked your desperate, soaked pussy. 

You lost yourself in the bliss that washed over you. You’d never felt anything quite like it, it was ecstasy in its purest form. He fucked you through it, gentle whispers guiding you back to reality as you clenched and writhed against his hand to ride out your orgasm. 

“That’s it, dotje.” His voice was so delicate and comforting against the intensity that overcame your senses. “I’ve got you.”

You felt tears in your eyes from how tightly they’d been shut. Looking down as the feeling subsided into a nearly sedated, dreamy sensation you watched as Joost withdrew his hand from you. Wincing at the loss of his fingers, desperately needing something inside of you again you watched as his two fingers, completely drenched in your slick arousal went into his mouth. 

You wished you had it in you to tease him and remind him about the time you’d had breakfast together, but it was all a distant, meaningless memory now. You were entranced watching him lick his fingers clean, he stared you down as he did it, his tongue swirling around to taste every last bit of you. 

“You taste so good.” His voice too was unrecognizable, his lust for you so apparent that you found yourself feeling much more bare than just in the literal sense. “Open your mouth.”

His fingers were warm, you’d finally returned the favor and sucked down to taste yourself like he wanted. After he was satisfied, he wiped his hand against his torso carelessly, reaching into the pocket of his jeans that were tossed on the floor to pull out his wallet. He always kept condoms, although he hadn’t acclimated himself to a rock star lifestyle yet he was glad that he’d made a habit of always carrying some.

“Can I go on top?” You asked sweetly, only for him to shake his head with a smile. 

“No.” He said plainly, tearing open the holographic packaging. “I want to be romantic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Joost made you feel at ease, he was undoubtedly a special person who would always have a small piece of your heart. You wished that he didn’t make you feel so warm inside, a fling and one nightstand should’ve made you feel nothing but lust. 

Even if he had been joking, it had been romantic. He laid atop of you, kissing you just slow and deep as he fucked you. He filled you up so perfectly that you could do nothing but hold him close and moan into the never-ending kiss. You tensed a bit at first, but he was gentle, touching you sweetly to relax your body so that he could bottom you out. 

Joost lasted a bit longer than you anticipated, you even grew a bit sore from how much he stretched you out and your body soon became weighed down with a drunken feeling. The champagne had long worn off, but nothing was comparable to getting fucked by such a man who wasn’t only gorgeous, but completely on top of the world. 

It made you feel a bit shallow, wrapping your legs around him as he began to kiss your neck to give your lips a break. You tugged on the longer part of his hair possessively, eliciting a low groan from him. Just like you’d boosted his ego, he was now doing the same for you. Even if you didn’t win the competition, you’d have the person who did wrapped around your finger. 

He came inside you without any verbal warning, but his body gave him away. You felt entranced by it, the way he panted and moaned Dutch praises tangled with English ones. His cock twitched when he finished, a bit disappointed you couldn’t enjoy it fully and all you felt was the warmth. 

What followed was a bit disappointing. Your head was a wreck for the days after, thinking of how Joost left in the later morning hours after spending what was left of the night cuddling with you. Your remaining time in Sweden was beautiful with your friend, but you’d promised to fly back to Vancouver to see her family so that they could give you proper congratulations. 

You’d confided to your friend on a drunken night in Stockholm about your night with Joost, which failed to surprise her. As you lay in the living room of her parent's house, watching her nieces and nephews play and talk your ear off about Eurovision you noticed her running into the house. 

“Check your phone.” She was far too excited, making you nervously take your phone from the coffee table. “Hurry!”

You looked at her messages to see tickets to a festival, looking at the line your heart nearly sank at seeing Joost’s name. You were silent for a while, your face still and statuesque you’d unintentionally offended your friend. 

“Uh,” She began leaning down to look at you. “Do you not want to go or something?”

You shook your head, “Of course I do.” You said quietly, not wanting the kids to butt into the conversation. “I just hope I can see him, not just watch.”

You certainly got what you wanted. After watching the show, it felt like you’d been falling in love for a second time with the way he performed. You loved seeing him get to see him being himself without constraint, even if he was completely out of his element in Canada he was too charming for anyone not to like him. 

You found Joost after his show, not needing to say anything, your arms wrapping around his torso as you two stood behind the stage as the next performer went on. You realized you were still in the open for everyone to see, but even if you noticed groups of people slowing down to stare at you two you hadn’t cared.

“There are people taking pictures.” He whispered, nodding over to one of the passing groups, presumably Eurovision fans. 

You shook your head, cupping his face for what felt like the last time as the sun-kissed all his features for you. You didn’t want to do anything else but admire him for as long as you could. 

[jarofstyles]

could u please do a quick lil fluffy one about heavily pregnant y/n and harry at an event like maybe an award after party or something? and her just not feeling great so he takes her home and they have a cute little cozy night in and just him taking care of her

Yes I can, sweet dove!

Check out our Patreon!

-----

"Y'alright?" His voice was quiet, but loud enough for her to hear over the loud chatter and music. His eyes were vigilant on her the entire night and he could visibly see her start to wilt a little bit in the last few minutes.

When she had agreed to go to the show with him, she hadn't anticipated how tiring it would be. How many people she would speak to, how many people would want to touch her belly. The congratulations had been so, so lovely- but if one more person touched her, Y/N would probably cry.

But this was Harry's event, his work, and she wasn't about to risk anything by complaining. She used to attend everything- the rehearsals and late night shows and signings, but with the arrival of their first baby looming over them and the trials and tribulations of a first time pregnancy, Y/N had been down for the count for a bit.

She did well, all things considered. She had stayed active and ate as well as she could -though the powder sugar mini donuts, sprite and salty French fries sprinkled with sugar had been her weaknesses- and ultimately had a smooth pregnancy. However, nearing the end now, her hormones were shot, her body ached, and her feet were swollen.

Sucking it up all night, she had kept a nice face and leaned into Harry's embrace. His hand had rested protectively over her bump, the swollen stomach his pride and joy as well as his most worried about asset, and he had been a doting father to be all night- but she didn't want to ruin anything for him.

It was nearing 1 in the morning, though, and she was shot. Preparations had begun at noon, making it more than 12 hours of hustle and bustle. Y/N craved mint chip ice cream, crisps, and the couch.

"Feet are swelling." Her response was mumbled into his shirt, but she knew he would understand. "Feels like m'standing on needles."

"Darling." His concerned tone matched the cute little furrow of his brow, making her smile. "Should have said something earlier."

"Didn't want to interrupt. This is work, and I got to eat my sweets earlier." That had been part of the incentive, as well as the goody bag. It was wild what people would send celebrities that could easily afford all the products, but Y/N was a woman who took what she could get!

"You're more important than the lot of them. Our son is napping well inside your stomach." He shook his head. "Cmon. We can go home, let me just say goodbye."

"Kay. Can we get my foot spa out when we get home?" She asked as she followed him to grab their coats. He had gotten her one that heated the water and acted like a mini jacuzzi for her aching feet and it had been one of her favorite things ever.

"Course. I'll get the nice smelling lotion and rub them after, hm? Need you comfortable too. Did you want to stop and get some chips?" His thoughtfulness made her tear up, sniffling before she cursed the hormones. This was common and irritating but she couldn't help it.

"Y-You read my mind. Milkshake too?" She peeped, wide, teary eyes looking up at him with hope. No good fast food run was complete without it.

"As if I could say no to you, my darling." A kiss was pressed against the side of her head as he called for the valet. "Your wish is my command."

[wynnyfryd]

oh god oh fuck i’m having new fic ideas that i WILL NOT INDULGE because i have one single molecule of discipline that i am clinging to for dear life but:

Steve actually loves his parents. His dad especially. And everybody’s all:

“What the fuck?”

“But he’s never around.”

“I thought you were pissed at him for something?”

“You called him an asshole all the time,” Nancy adds.

And Steve laughs, “Well, yeah. I mean, he’s totally an asshole, but what does that have to do with anything? You think I’m supposed to talk about sports with all of you?”

“Hey-!”

“Not you, Lucas. Whatever, my dad’s awesome, I love that guy.”

—

anyway i just need steve to be on good terms with his family and actually have a bunch of family members because they’re catholics. like, steve has a sister in college and a brother who’s working already, and their branch of the family is considered small by the rest. like, eddie attends a reunion once and spends the whole time in a low-grade panic because why are there so many cousins? jesus christ

okay cool and then we know steve can get super high-strung and ridiculous when he gets stressed sooooo: future fic + bridezilla steve. he’d be such a nightmare. like, he was too frugal to hire a wedding coordinator so now he’s running around trying to team captain everybody at the rehearsal dinner and he’s got forty relatives crammed into the back room of a steak house, and everyone’s talking over each other and he can’t even think straight anymore

steve finally snapping in a super loud and bitchy tone, “okay, aunt mary, maybe lets trying speaking one at a TIME” and the whole room goes quiet lmfaooo

[moonxytcn]

Hellooo, here is my request! We are a new upcoming artist in the industry and we attend the grammys for the first time. Some guy is interviewing us and asks a really inappropriate question which makes us uncomfortable. And before we could even attempt to answer the question billie so happens to notice how uncomfortable we are and steps into the conversion saving us just on time. This is the first time we ever meet billie, and some how by the end of the night billie gives us her number in hopes of being able to see us again 🫶🏻

rescue on the red carpet

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie saves you from an uncomfortable interviewer question

tags & warnings – just fluffy

a/n – hiii <3 it's been a while since I wrote anything hihi, but I'm back, and thank you so much for the request anon!! and I'm sorry it took so long to post, I hope you enjoy this <3

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

   ㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

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The lights of the Grammy Awards shimmer and sparkle like nothing you've ever seen before. You're standing on the red carpet, the air electric with excitement and anticipation. It's your first time here, and the grandeur of it all feels almost surreal. You're a newcomer in the music industry, and being nominated for Best New Artist is a dream come true. Your heart races as you take in the dazzling sea of celebrities, flashing cameras, and enthusiastic reporters.

The crimson carpet under your feet seems to stretch on for miles, lined with eager fans and journalists clamoring for a glimpse of the stars. You feel like you're in a dream, walking amongst giants in the music industry. Your dress, an elegant blend of shimmer and sophistication, clings perfectly to your form, making you feel both powerful and vulnerable at once.

As you make your way down the carpet, a charming interviewer from a popular entertainment network beckons you over. His smile is wide, his demeanor polished, but something about his eyes makes you uneasy.

"Welcome to the Grammys!" He exclaims, holding the microphone out toward you. "How does it feel to be here tonight?"

You smile graciously, taking a breath to steady yourself. "It's truly an honor to be here among so many talented artists. I'm just grateful for the opportunity."

The interviewer nods, then leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. "You've had quite a rise to fame this year. Many are calling you the next big thing. How are you handling all this attention? And." He pauses, his grin turning a shade sharper, "there have been rumors about your personal life. Care to comment on any of those?"

The question catches you off guard. Your mind races as you try to think of a polite way to deflect. Rumors? About your personal life? You’ve tried hard to keep your private life out of the spotlight. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you feel your confidence begin to waver.

Before you can find the words, the interviewer presses on, his smile now verging on predatory. "There's a particularly juicy one about a certain collaboration turning into something more... intimate. What do you have to say about that?"

You freeze, acutely aware of the cameras zooming in, capturing every moment of your discomfort. You can hear the crowd's murmurs, feel the eyes of countless onlookers on you. You’re cornered, and the vulnerability is almost paralyzing. Your pulse quickens, and your rehearsed poise starts to crumble.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, a voice cuts through the tension.

"Hey, I think that's enough of the tabloid questions, don't you?"

You turn to see Billie Eilish stepping forward, her iconic green hair and bold fashion sense unmistakable. Her expression is calm yet commanding, her gaze steady as she addresses the interviewer.

The interviewer falters, momentarily taken aback by Billie's intervention. "Oh, Billie! Of course, it's great to see you. I was just asking about—"

Billie interrupts smoothly, her tone firm but friendly. "I know what you were asking, but tonight's about celebrating achievements, not spreading gossip. Why not focus on her incredible music instead?"

Her words hang in the air, a lifeline thrown your way. You catch Billie's eye, and she offers you a reassuring smile. It's like a wave of relief washes over you, the tension easing from your shoulders.

The interviewer, now visibly flustered, clears his throat and shifts his attention back to you. "Right, right. Apologies for that. So, tell us about your album and the inspiration behind it."

You take a deep breath, grateful for Billie's timely intervention. With renewed confidence, you talk about your work, your passion for music, and the journey that led you here. Billie stands by your side, her presence a comforting shield against the prying questions that had threatened to throw you off balance.

As the interview concludes, you thank the reporter and turn to Billie, who is already flashing her signature grin.

"Thank you." You say, gratitude evident in your voice. "I didn't know what to do back there."

Billie chuckles softly, shrugging off the praise. "No worries. I've been in this industry long enough to know how these things go. You handled it well."

Her words are genuine, and they bolster your spirits. You find yourself smiling back at her, the tension from earlier fading away.

The rest of the evening passes in a whirlwind of excitement and celebration. You watch performances that leave you awestruck, rub shoulders with artists you've admired for years, and even manage to snag a selfie with a few of your musical idols.

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself once again crossing paths with Billie. She's surrounded by a small group of admirers and friends, but when she spots you, she waves you over.

"Hey! How was the rest of your night?" She asks, her energy as infectious as ever.

"It was incredible." You reply, feeling more at ease than you had at the start of the evening. "Thank you again for stepping in back there. It means a lot."

Billie dismisses your gratitude with a wave of her hand. "Seriously, don't mention it. I've been there. And besides, we're all in this together, right?"

You nod, feeling a connection with her that goes beyond just the shared experience of the industry. There's something genuine about Billie that makes you feel seen and understood.

As the crowd around you begins to thin out, Billie leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a more private tone. "Hey, if you ever want to hang out or need someone to talk to about the craziness of this industry, here's my number."

She hands you a small card with her number scrawled on it, the gesture both casual and meaningful. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of having a direct line to someone as renowned and talented as Billie Eilish.

"Thank you." You say, tucking the card safely into your purse. "I’d love that."

Billie gives you a nod, her eyes twinkling with sincerity. "Great. I hope we can catch up soon."

With that, she waves goodbye, disappearing into the remaining crowd, leaving you with a newfound sense of hope and excitement. The night may have started with uncertainty, but it's ending with the promise of friendship and the potential for so much more.

As you make your way out of the venue, you can't help but smile. Your first Grammy night has been unforgettable, not just because of the awards and performances but because you've found an ally in one of the industry's brightest stars.

And as you step into the cool night air, you know this is just the beginning of an incredible journey.

[hannieehaee]

hello!! can i please a kwan drabble with dom seungkwan where he sees u really turned on and squirmy watching him at practice bc he dances with a very serious/mean expression and ur imagining how mean he can be in bed? so he shows u after?

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!seungkwan, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1659

a/n: i sinned again and wrote softdom!kwan instead of dom!kwan sorryyyy i realized im just not good at writing full on dom lol i hope u still enjoy<3

masterlist

despite popular belief, seungkwan wasn't always as soft and adorable as people had a tendency to claim.

he was an idol after all, which always came with an insane level of duality. while at some moments he could make your heart melt with his cute demeanor, there were other times in which his behavior on stage could not help but leave you wanting more.

as his girlfriend, you had been made privy of all sides of seungkwan. however, he was usually extra sweet towards you. even though your dynamic between each other had vast variety, most of the time seungkwan treated you like royalty, tending to you more often than not.

due to this, you'd always kind of had a preconceived notion of your boyfriend. you saw him like a softie. a man who lives to coo at you and take care of you in ways that were often unnecessary but always appreciated (i mean no one needed to be literally spoon fed, yet seungkwan would sometimes insist on it).

now, however, you were seeing quite a different image of your boyfriend.

you had seen seungkwan perform plenty of times. had attended many of his concerts overseas, even. but you had never truly gotten such a close glimpse of this seungkwan before. it was as if his on-stage persona had blended in with the sweet seungkwan you were so used to.

you were currently in the hybe practice room along with all thirteen members and a few close staff. it had only been about an hour since the boys had started practicing, but their bodies were already drenched in sweat and their minds consumed by the task at hand.

as per usual, there were a few members who would get a little extra serious whenever it came to rehearsing. while some would goof off a bit, others would even take on an entire different personality as the performance consumed them. you'd always observe the former to be chan, soonyoung, and maybe sometimes vernon. but this time your boyfriend had joined in and become completely consumed by his reflection in the mirror as he meticulously monitored even the slightest flick of his hand.

by then you were practically just a nameless spectator. your presence did not matter as you simply sat in silence, equally consumed by the sight of your boyfriend. he had a face of extreme concentration, with his eyebrows furrowed in what one could sense to be anger. accompanied by his frown was a harsh disposition you had yet to see in your boyfriend. he was becoming visibly frustrated by any slight mistake he committed, roughing up his water bottle whenever he stopped for a quick drink and adding a little extra sharpness to every one of his movements (even while he wasnt dancing).

although embarrassed by it, you were starting to feel a certain type of way at seeing your boyfriend like this.

you had heard stories of his anger coming out while rehearsing with the members. fights that had come up among them; sometimes little spats while other times dragged-out feuds. you had never witnessed any of these, but deep down you had wanted to. specially now, getting a taste of how he looked when he was feeling angry.

you tried ro remain calm, you really did. distracting him when he was so focused and in the zone would just be a disturbance to not only him but also to the members. but who could blame you? for months you'd been craving to see a different side of your boyfriend, one that was a little mean. and now you maybe would have the chance of riling him up a bit more than he already was.

which was why the next time he took a quick five-minute break from dancing to check in on you, you decided to play a bit dirty and whisper in his ear.

what you said to him, you'll never reveal. but it gave you the results you wanted as seungkwan immediately blushed and lost all bravado he previously had, making a dumb excuse to the members of why he'd need to take an extended break with you for a while.

that's how you led him into an empty changing room in the hybe hallways and cornered him, but you still had work to do. getting your boyfriend to fuck you was easy, but what you wanted was for your boyfriend to be mean to you. you wanted to bring back that angry and frustrated boy that had been unknowingly seducing you just mere moments ago.

for now the two of you just kissed. it was rough and nasty, with kwannie moaning against your lips as you manhandled him against the wall, whining when you created space between the two of you.

"kwannie ... want you to be mean to me," you breathed against his neck as you undid the buttons of his shirt.

"h– huh? mean?", he sounded surprised.

"yeah, kwannie. like back during practice. looked so angry and frustrated. kept cursing under your breath, it was so hot ..."

"oh ... was i– was i being mean? i– "

"no, but i want you to be. please?"

he kept stammering at you, breath heavy from your touches.

"what is it, baby? cant give me what i want? do you think maybe then one of the guys could? how about wonwoo? he seems like he cou– "

"don't finish that sentence unless you want me to get really mean."

finally.

mustering all the strength he had seemingly been hiding, your boyfriend twisted you around, getting your hands off him and bending you over a nearby table, with your chest now pressed up against the table and your hands being held behind your back.

"want mean? i'll give you mean. just remember you asked for it."

he let go of your hands to undo his pants, and then you made the mistake of moving your arms to get into a more comfortable position.

"did i say you could move?," he swatted your hands and put them back in place, "dont make me tie you up."

you felt chills at this, causing your ass to try and push back against his front. this only got a mocking laugh out of him.

"you're not in charge here, angel. move again and i'll make sure you won't move all week."

"but kwannie ..."

"did i say you could talk? you're gonna sit there like a good girl and take whatever i give you. you asked me to be mean, so im being mean," once his length was out he harshly pulled your own pants down, leaving you in just your thin panties, "you insinuated wanting to fuck one of my members because you were just so god damn thirsty for some dick, so im fucking you. what else can a brat possibly want?"

you said nothing, simply letting out a whine and a huff of frustration.

"good girl. not talking just like i asked. now im gonna fuck you, im gonna fill you up, and you're gonna go back into the practice room and not let a single drop go to waste, okay?", he asked as he pressed his cock against your folds, having moved your panties out of the way, "want a verbal answer this time, brat."

"yes, kwannie ..."

and then came the harshest fucking of your life.

he felt no remorse nor care for your cunt, hammering into it with all the strength and frustration he had been feeling all throughout dance practice for the past few hours.

"you know, im so fucking nice to you. i, fuck, i give you everything. i take care of you," he paused to readjust himself a bit, "i make love to you every day. i bring you to see the world with me, but that's not enough? huh? need me to be mean to you?"

"k– kwannie!", he kept rutting his hips against yours with the most force you'd ever felt for him, making the filthiest sounds as his hips slammed against your ass and your juices mixed.

"should i have been mean to you all this time, baby? should i have thrown away all the gifts and flowers and used you like a toy?", you couldnt see him, but you knew he mustve had that angry look in his eye that you'd been thirsting after just moments ago.

his hand snuck under your panties, digging his finger in to play with your clit roughly and carelessly.

you knew your end was arriving embarrassingly fast, you just hoped that maybe this was affecting him as much as it did you.

"cum, fuck ... cum for me, beatiful," he sighed, starting to slouch against you. even when he was being mean he couldnt help in being nice to you.

you covered your mouth with your hand as you came, muffling your scream at the sudden increase in speed from your boyfriend's thrusts, who was just entering his high along with you.

it took the both of you a few moments to catch your breaths and calm down. you winced the moment he removed himself from you and pulled up your pants again without giving a care for the juices he had just released into you.

despite your limp extremities, you managed to turn around and face your spent boyfriend. his face was flushed and his hair was sticking to his skin. he still had that furrow in his eyebrow and his breath was heavy. it was reminiscent of the look that got you into this situation in the first place.

"was that too mean?", he chuckled shyly, now caressing your cheek with his hand.

"no, kwannie. that was perfect. thank you," you turned your face to give a sweet peck to his palm.

"so, want me to be mean from now on?"

"no, i love sweet kwannie just fine. just .... maybe every once in a while?"

he scoffed, "oh, absolutely. i think i needed that."

[zer0wzs]

𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙡

wherein jason becomes the rockstar's gf jason todd x gn!rockstar!reader wc: 1432

AN :: there is an mcr and a fob reference here and both keep staring at me like a sore thumb

For a split second, your mind wanders off. Suddenly, you’re thinking about how you didn’t have a clue as to how Jason puts up with you.

Between the late-night practices and you cooping yourself in the studio all day, You feel like you don’t give him enough of your time. Somehow, though, he pushes through, and he makes it work. He meets you halfway. He said he wouldn’t trade you and your dreams for the world. 

He’s funny. You love him.

Your mind snaps back to where you once were—on the stage. You feel a ringing in your head as you feel heat radiating off your body. The colorful lights blind you. Your shoulders hurt like hell from the weight of the guitar, and you feel winded as your lack of breath control and the previous song had knocked all the air out of you.

Despite all your qualms, though, you love doing this. The adrenaline courses through your blood and comes a rush you find for almost every night. 

“Alright! You guys having fun so far?” The crowd cheers, buzzing with energy and alcohol in their veins. 

You skim over through the faces in front of you. Some are ones you’ve seen before. They tend to attend your sets regularly, but many, though, were faces you didn’t recognize. 

Most of all, however, you see Jason with a friend by his side, quickly catching your brief gaze on him. He stands right beside the platform of the tiny performing venue. He gives you a nod with a straight face. 

You feel a surge of excitement just from his gaze on you, and you feel that energy course through your blood.

“Keep that energy up! We’re not finished just yet!” 

As your bandmates adjust their effects, retune their instruments, and do one last mixing of sound for your closer, you regain your sense of clarity amongst the smell of booze that lingers throughout the venue. You shortly shot Jason a smile and a nod before readjusting your mic and redirecting your focus to the crowd.

“Now, before we sign off, I wanna thank you all for seeing us tonight. I really hope you guys enjoyed our set.” The crowd quiets down, almost dead. You take it as a sign to get it going again. “But come on now—let’s get this on!”

You breathe in once, breathe once out. It’s the first time you’re debuting this song. You rehearsed for this, but you doubt it's enough. You're scared you’ll blank out in the middle of the song, then fill it with random riffs. You’re scared you’ll sing the demo version and forget your final. You’re scared you might just not do the song any justice.

It’s the final song of the final night of your tour. You were not in the mood to mess this up.

Yet you pause for a moment. How much more in love could you be? Because suddenly, your thoughts are filled with him to calm yourself.

You catch him in the corner of your eyes once more, and you faintly hear a ‘Woo!’ from his direction.

Hell, this final song is about him.

He’s heard it, but he has no idea that you’re playing it tonight.

“Do you want to live forever?” You ask the crowd as the instruments start to set themselves up. “Sing this with me then.”

The song gradually swells, with the drums and bass starting out the song, looping the intro for a few rounds before the guitars join in. You harmonize with the main melody of the song, making up riffs as you go.

You feel yourself building the song, getting into the zone, and even doing a call and response because why the hell not? 

Before you let the performance take over, you quickly slip in a “This one’s for him. Hi, Jay.” You look in his direction and wave.

He’s awestruck, enchanted.

You see him quickly follow your gaze and smile. You seem to have caught him off-guard. You’re sure he’s picked up on the instruments and the vocals. He’s smart, far smarter than you. You’re sure he knows what you’re about to play.

The song ends as fast as it starts. You forget that sometimes when you perform on stage, it’s like you’re on autopilot. This was precisely that, but in the best way possible. You feel your body carry the work while your mind can sit back and watch the scene. For a split second, you even ran closer to the crowd during the final break to hold them, grab on your arm.

Everything had passed by so quickly that you couldn’t even register that it was over. Not until the crowd began to mellow down, but not without an applause.

“Thank you all so much!” You smiled and waved goodbye before your roadies rushed to the stage to gather your equipment.

You look over to the side to find Jason. He’s gone, but that’s more than alright. You figured he rushed to help with fixing the equipment, seeing his size and all. It’s something he often does when he watches your shows.

You feel your throat run dry. Maybe it’s time to steep some tea.

You high-five your bandmates before exiting the stage.

—

You didn’t quite grapple with the reality of just how exhausted and thirsty you were until you stepped off the stage. The world felt more than just shaky, so you found yourself leaning over some table in the back, chugging as much water as you could. The tea can wait.

You could faintly hear your bandmates hyping each other up and giving each other even more high fives. You stood by the sidelines, watching them and laughing at their antics. God knew you were too drained to even think about joining them.

Still, by the corner of your eye, you see a tall figure standing next to you. 

You’re always more than happy to talk to him.

“Well, hi, you.” You greeted, happy to see him.

In great contrast to your bubbly self, your boyfriend was more… frozen. He was silent, just looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched you play live, so you figured that the debut of the song was what made him so giddy at this moment.

As he stood there before you, you saw him in better lighting for the first time tonight after your show. You saw the sweat perspiring from his forehead to his neck and the sweat collected on his shirt. You basked in the light that framed his face from the side, but it accentuated those bright eyes of his. You take note of that smile that he’d been wearing even before your show. It only seemed to grow bigger as the night passed by. 

Fuck, he really is beautiful. You think you may not ever get enough of him.

Finally, after a few moments of radio silence, he spoke. “Shit, babe.”

“Uhuuuh?” You found yourself giggling at him.

He’s really cute. You’re in love with him.

“You guys were amazing. I can’t believe my partner is a rockstar.” Practically stars in his eyes.

“Why, thank you.” You felt yourself warming up to the hand that finds your cheek.

“You also played the song!” The hand holding your head up gently tenses with his excitement. You can’t help but laugh at him.

“Yes, we did.”

“Your closer’s always Saturday. Why’d you guys change it?”

That’s for many reasons. For one, you wanted this final night to be special. It was the last date of your best-selling tour yet. You had to do something else.

Then again, you could’ve chosen any other song that hasn’t or even rarely gets played live.

“Well, it’s not always you watch my shows—with your whole thing and our usual tour dates and locations—so I really wanted to do something special.” You hummed, leaning further into his touch. ”It’s almost your birthday anyway.”

“My birthday is still in, like, three months.” 

You shrug. “It’s never too early to celebrate.”

“That’s the length of an entire season, quierde. I think it’s still early.”

“That means there’s only more gifts to come, yeah?” He half-heartedly murmurs something in agreement. 

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Love?” You called.

“Hmmm?”

You got on your tiptoes, balancing your weight on his shoulders, and gave him a peck on the lips, yet as you set yourself down, you felt him sweep you off your feet to return the kiss.

Your tea can wait a little longer.

[manicpixiefelix]

seen and not heard

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

Summary: You are the weirdest person at this fancy event Felix's parents dragged him along to, and the only person his age apart from his sister. Turns out you're intriguing enough that he doesn't protest when his parents suggest you join them for a Summer at Saltburn.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. I know the reader comes out as NB and changes their name to Y/N in high school in the main fic but suspend your disbelief.

A/N: 2211 words. FLASHBACK!! anon asked for a flashback to a core memory for young felix & reader, so here is their first meeting that ends with a core memory for felix. i love them both, id like to write more of them being young together in future. (also i was a little drunk while writing this, please forgive me xx)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Summer slips by from one sticky-hot moment to the next at the Saltburn estate. Felix still isn't quite sure what to make of you, even as he'd so callously agreed to have you in his home after meeting you at one of his parents' various functions. It had been one of the rare ones he'd been invited to attend, alongside Venetia, tasked with being on his best behaviour.

The hosts were friends with his parents - they always were - and he'd found himself on a boat. Early in the afternoon he'd found himself aware of your gaze on him and his sister, the two of them pinching canapes from passing waiters. Venetia had been trying to put as many as she could into her mother's purse without Elspeth noticing, but all Felix could do was eat them as quickly as he could, bored out of his mind from smiling as his parents showed him off.

Our beautiful boy, Felix, they'd said when people politely asked who he was, and our daughter Venetia is around here somewhere.

No-one came near you, by the railing, people watching and occasionally being brough a glass of orange juice in a fancy cup by various members of staff who would give you pitying looks. There weren't many others around his age; he wasn't even sure why he and Venetia were there at all. Eventually, however, he managed to slip away from his mother.

"How boring, right?" He'd laughed softly, but you'd shrunken back, glancing around, as if unsure whether you were even allowed to respond.

"It's for a good cause, isn't it?" It sounds rehearsed. You look more uncomfortable.

"I guess, I don't know," he shrugged, "why are you here? Your parents bring you along?" You're still avoid his eye contact, looking around at the other guests. You shrug kind of helplessly, before finally looking at him.

"You're Elspeth and Sir James' son; I heard them talking about you," then, as quickly as you'd turned to him, you look away, "I don't know if I'm allowed to talk to you."

"Why can't you talk to me?" He's growing more intrigued by the minute, watching you closely, which only seems to agitate you further. A slow smile spreads across his lips, "who are you?"

You shrug.

"That's not an answer," Felix relaxes further into the conversation now, leaning against the railing of the boat, looking over his shoulder at the waves breaking as it moved through the water in the sunset.

"I'm not anyone really, I'm just here," you try to smile, but it's awkward, it's like you don't quite know how. It's not upset or unhappy, it's just the truth you know it seems. Then, after a moment, your attention seems drawn back to the others. He follows your gaze, and sees his parents speaking to the people who'd been pointed out as the hosts at the start of the party. Something in their gaze is intense, but not unkind. His parents smile at him, and he watches the hosts manage a faint, awkward smile at the pair of your by the edge of the boat. They nod.

Beside him, he actually hears you let out a shaky breath.

"You're Felix Catton," you say so very softly, even though he'd never properly introduced himself, "your sister is Venetia and she's been in the kitchens for the past fifteen minutes; not sure how that's going to work out for her." He turns to you very sharply, sees the way you're watching him with a nervous energy, "I'm Y/N."

You're being very weird.

"I know everyone here. Sorry," you admit finally.

"I don't have to know everyone here," Felix frowns; he should probably leave, be too weirded-out to stick around, but something about you intrigues him beyond what he can say. You shrug, but it's easier this time, as is the half smile you give him.

"You're not me."

A strange creature. A marvel. He spent the next hour pointing out patrons while you rattled off not only their name, but any gossip you somehow knew about them, much to Felix's delight. Sometimes he'd catch you watching him, watching the way he'd smile and laugh at the strange details you'd manage to recall that would make you laugh, and he saw a fondness in your eyes that frightened him with how much he appreciated it.

The two of you spend the better part of the night together, which would be strange if he didn't catch his parents watching approvingly every so often. Venetia had been brought out of the kitchen by a waiter and was kept on a metaphorical tight leash by his parents, so they seemed glad he was just keeping out of trouble.

"How would you feel about Y/N spending some time with us over the Summer?" His mother had brought him the idea at the end of the night in the coach ride back to Saltburn. Venetia is asleep in her lap, curled up awkwardly, while his father sat up front with the driver.

So that's how you ended up at Saltburn that Summer.

You showed up, still a strange creature, still a marvel. You knew all the scripts, never slipping up even as Duncan loomed over you. Please and thank you and dressing up for dinner without having to be asked. Venetia giggled and called you a robot and an alien and Farleigh spent the first few days mocking how formal you were at every given interaction. Always asking, always delicate, always seeking permission.

But Felix sees through the nerves. Or, at least he hopes he does.

"I'm desperate for some ice cream," there's a good chance you're asleep, but he tries his luck, whispering through the shut door on the other side of your shared bathroom.

"Uh..." he hears from the other side.

"Do you want some?" It's late enough that everyone else is asleep, but he's rather desperate to see the side of you that had come out by the end of the event he'd met you at. Of course you're nervous when you open the door, but he smiles, and you smile back, sleepy but more genuine than it had been since you'd arrived.

"Are we allowed?"

"Probably not, but it's my house so who cares," and he grabs your hand and pulls you to the kitchen. Something about the way you laugh despite yourself hits him square in the chest.

In the day time, Elspeth gives you both concerned looks and asks if you slept alright. Every time you make a point of straightening your posture and giving her a bright smile and assuring her you're fine. Felix will yawn and give a thumbs up. The change you show in the day is gradual, it almost takes all Summer.

You learn to play with Farleigh and Venetia and Felix without seeming like a robot; you learn their rules and games and jokes. You watch until you can respond in the way they all want to hear, while still being perfect under the watchful eyes of Sir James and Elspeth. Everyone loves the way you shape yourself to fit into their world.

At night, however, you come alive with Felix.

Of course he already knows Saltburn like the back of his hand, but he's surprised by how quickly you learn to move silently, following his footsteps and stifling your giggling. There's something about him that makes you chatter honestly, rather than trying to say exactly what you think he might want to hear.

"Sorry, sorry," you apologise, the two of you having been cackling at an inappropriate joke Felix had been recounting. The two of you are laying in his bed, top and tails on his duvet, looking up at the ornate ceiling.

"What are you apologising for?" Felix's face hurts from how much he's been smiling. It's been happening pretty much every night now, he can't remember having more fun over Summer in his whole life, he has no idea why you're apologising.

But you grow quiet.

"I dunno," you say softly, and shift your knee to press into his elbow. A strange silence settles over you both, and somehow he knows that's not all of it, that there's more on your mind you don't know how to say, "all of it," you finally say, and try and laugh again but can't quite manage it.

"You're so weird," Felix sighs finally, dramatically, bringing levity back to the moment and sticking his foot in your face as you protest loudly.

"You're so gross!" You cry, glad that you two were the only ones on this side of the house, shoving him away, smacking and kicking just as he was too, until the two of you are scraping. Tonight you win, biting at his shins until he calls for a truce, and you grin in triumph.

This more human side of you bleeds into the daytime. You tease Venetia but help her rope Farleigh and Felix in a fashion show, just so she can tease up their hair and put them in makeup and sequins. You scrap and squabble with Farleigh in the lake but end up laying all over each other during movie nights with the rest of the family.

And Felix? Well it takes little time for the rest of the house to see how close you become.

There's always something fond, something almost proud in his parents' eyes when they see the two of you together now. They host little events over the Summer, and they start introducing you and Felix together.

"Our beautiful boy, Felix, and his darling, little friend Y/N; a friend of the family."

Still, you shrink away at events; you hide if you can get away with it. Felix always finds you, and then he finds Farleigh and Venetia and the four of you will often play cards in one of the quieter rooms you were all still allowed to be in for the duration of the party. At first he doesn't ask, but curiosity gets the better of him eventually.

"Don't like being looked at," you muttered, distracted as you frowned at your hand of cards. Venetia scoffs and Farleigh rolls his eyes.

"I'm not meant to be looked at," is the real answer you give when you and Felix sneak out of your rooms to eat leftovers at three in the morning. Sitting on the kitchen counter, you've got a plate of half-finished hors d'oeuvre between you. You're focused on the food, unable to look at him.

"What's that even mean?"

"Dunno," you shrugged, "just not meant to be looked at."

"I'm looking at you now," Felix leans in, opens his eyes as wide as he's able, and is rewarded by you cracking a smile when you finally glance at him, unable to help yourself.

"Not like that," you shove his face away, rolling your eyes even though you can't stop smiling, "like, there's people who matter at these fancy events that our parents go to, and people who don't matter, like they're people so of course they matter, but they don't matter to the people who matter, you know?"

"Kind of?"

"Like you matter because you're a Catton, but you don't matter because you're ten, but your parents matter-matter. Waiters don't matter one way or the other, which is mean but it's true at stuff like that," its starting to make more sense, but Felix can't help but watch how you're picking apart a cracker almost atom-by-atom as you explain, "and I matter because I- I, um," you stumble over your words, "because I just matter, but again, I'm a kid," you clear your throat awkwardly, "but I'm not really meant to even go to those things, and if I do, I have to really seem like I don't matter, like even less than a waiter; the least matter-ing person to not matter."

Then, finally looking up, you meet his gaze and apologise. There's something almost forlorn in your eyes.

Felix still doesn't know what to make of you in this moment. A strange creature. A marvel. Someone who matters, even if you're not meant to; someone he decides matters to him.

"You're being so weird," he grins finally. You burst out laughing, whole face lighting up, tension leaving you in an instant. It sets him off too, filling the kitchen with joy.

Sure, the two of you should probably be quieter in this moment, in the dead of night, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care.

Felix doesn't realise how this moment, this first Summer sticks with him. It takes him a long time to even bother questioning why it is that you start spending every Summer with them, how you convince your parents to let you join him at boarding school for secondary school after spending all Summer before talking about how cool it would be. In due time you will finally make total sense to him, but by then it won't even matter, it won't change anything about how glad he is to have you by his side.

Felix doesn't think about why or when he decided to make sure you knew that you mattered, but there's a little bit of it in everything he does.

[toomuchracket]

falling for you (flatmate!matty x reader)

promptober day 10, and there was nobody else i could have written this for. a fluffy but slightly angsty pining lovesick moment, before the two of you are actually flatmates and you're just babies on nights out in manc. i hope you enjoy!

p.s. yeah, i know the pic is the wrong era for this, lol. but it's alllll about the vibes <3

matty's trying his damnedest not to stare at you right now.

he's failing miserably, though. the copious amount of alcohol in his body is rinsing all the sense out of his brain - well, what little you hadn't already stolen from him when you met him earlier outside your halls of residence, all made-up and glowing - and he really cannot tear his eyes away from you, saying bye to your friends at the door of the nightclub.

matty blinks, and self-awareness hits him like a freight train. nah. he's being weird. he needs to get a grip.

but then you turn towards him, waiting on behalf of both of you in the cloakroom queue, and you smile, and all thoughts about stopping looking at you fly out of matty's head. how can he be expected to focus on anything but that face of yours? the vodka's made your beautiful eyes softer, and a combination of marlboros and mac lipstick have made your lips pouty and kissable. well, more so than usual, matty thinks.

he's so distracted by your beauty that he almost doesn't hear the cloakroom attendant shout him up to the window. stumbling slightly - he'd say over his own feet, you'd say due to drunkenness (and you'd be right) - matty exchanges his two tickets for the jackets you and him had been all but forced to wear to prevent the freezing october air getting to you, and wanders over to you. wordlessly, in a well-rehearsed routine, he slings his own jacket over his shoulder as he helps you into yours.

you murmur a thank you. "you hungry?"

for you, yes. for a kebab, no, matty wishes he could say. but he can't, so he just shakes his head.

"neither am i," you say, helping him zip up his leather jacket. your dexterity has been diminished by your drinking, and one of the fringes on the sleeve of your own coat gets stuck between the metal teeth of his. clearly, your brain has also been affected by the alcohol; you frown at the zip, unable to see why it won't move. "huh?"

matty smiles, moving to help you. "got caught on your coat. sorry, darlin'."

"oh, s'fine. thanks," you reply, as you're unstuck once again. with a smile, you hold a hand out to matty. "shall we?"

like he'd ever say no to you. "we shall."

and the walk back to your uni begins.

if it had been raining, matty would have done the gentlemanly thing and sprung for a taxi. but it isn't, for once; actually, he thinks, it's kind of a perfect night. the sky is inky-black, devoid of any clouds, and the two of you are just drunk enough that the streetlights look just as pretty as the stars you can't see from so far into the city like this. he's more thankful for the cold air now than he was before the two of you went out - after the close heat of the nightclub, and the internal glow of the however many shots you did, the coolness is welcome. that, and it forces you to secure matty's hand in your own for warmth, which is maybe the most perfect aspect of the night, in his opinion.

naturally, then, a pang of heartbreak hits him when you break the hold to rifle through your handbag. when you procure a half-empty pack of cigs, though, it dissipates.

"want one?" you ask, holding the open end of the packet towards matty.

"no thanks, sweetheart," he says. he isn't lying: the thought of anything clouding his vision of you, even cigarette smoke, is unbearable. but then a spark of an idea crackles somewhere in his brain - whether it's in spite of or because of his tipsy state, matty isn't sure, but either way it tells him he shouldn't be so quick to refuse. so, tentatively, he continues speaking. "i'll gladly share one with you, though."

you take your time answering, slowly pulling a cig from the pack and shoving the rest back in your bag, then digging around for your lighter. matty chews his cheeks during this performance, terror that he's overstepped a friendship boundary of some sort beginning to creep up his spine. but then you shrug, and say "alright", and he's fine.

well, he's not fine, actually - the next words that leave your mouth are "need your help to light it, though, matty". 

fuck. his hands so close to your jaw, close enough that he could take hold of it and kiss you before his brain could convince him that it was too much of a risk to your friendship? that's dangerous.

god, he's so drunk. and so definitely in love with you.

what matty is first and foremost, though, is a good friend. shoving down any and all romantic and/or sexual thoughts about you and your lips as best he can (which is, admittedly, not very well), he turns to face you and takes the lighter from your hand. "c'mere then."

when you oblige, silently, and look up at him with your lips parted and those sparkly doe eyes of yours, matty bites the inside of his lip so hard he feels it bleed. christ. this was perhaps a bad idea.

but the cig is right there, waiting to be lit, so he takes a deep breath, cupping the lighter as he flicks the flame into existence and brings it to your mouth. the orange glow illuminates you quite beautifully, and suddenly matty's head is filled with thoughts of you across from him, like you are now, but sat at a candlelit, white-clothed table with a glass of wine and a fancy dinner before you. and, if he's being honest, also with thoughts of you underneath him, face blissful and softly lit by the candles dotted around the room as he fucks you slowly and tenderly.

for fuck's sake. you're his best friend. he can't be thinking of you like that. why can't he stop thinking about you like that tonight? maybe he's going insane. he has no idea. but whatever is compelling him seems to lessen as you step back and exhale the smoke. "thank you, babe."

babe? that's new. but not unwelcome, not at all. matty feels his heart flutter at the pet name.

"s'alright," he smiles. now it's his turn to hold out a hand. "shall we keep going?"

"mhmm," you quickly take another puff of the cig, before sliding it between matty's lips with a giggle and taking his hand; you have to tug him forward a few paces before he regains control of his brain, but he quickly manages it, and the walk home continues.

for the most part, it's uneventful, aside from the alien feeling of your hand constantly in matty's. that is, until he tries to be clever and inhale the cig mid-conversation, and ends up exhaling directly in your face when you turn to listen to him without him fully noticing.

you cough a little bit when the smoke hits you, and matty panics (and internally facepalms. what a fucking idiot he is) as he throws the cig on the ground and stamps it out. "shit! i'm so sorry, sweetheart, i didn't mean that! you alright?"

"s'ok, i'm ok, don't worry," you assure him, waving away both his fretting and the lingering smoke. when it clears from in front of your face, matty's heartbeat increases as he takes in your amused smile and your even-more-sparkly-than-earlier eyes. you're beautiful. you're fucking glowing. and you're tucking yourself under his arm and cosying into his side as you walk. jesus christ. "this is a lot better for us, don't you think?"

matty's cheeks lift into a smile. "definitely."

it really is better, matty thinks, walking towards the front door of your halls with you snuggled into his chest. much like every other aspect of matty's life, you fit seamlessly into his side - you just feel so right there, so natural, as if the two of you were biologically designed to be together. maybe someday, he hopes, you will be; not two best friends traipsing into uni accommodation for a post-night out sleepover, but a pair of lovers heading home after a date.

he doubts that'll actually happen, given that he'd have to go through the impossible task of telling you how he feels first, but still. it's a nice distant daydream, one he's still giddily thinking about when you unlock the front door and pull him through several more until you reach your bedroom.

you groan when you flick the light on and see the state of your bed, makeup palettes and hair products and failed outfit options strewn across it. matty immediately jumps into problem-solving mode; anything to stop you being unhappy, after all. "where do you want all this stuff, darlin'?"

"the fucking floor," you grumble.

"so… where i'm meant to sleep?"

your head snaps up, and you catch matty's eye in the mirror as you take your earrings out. "well," you turn to face him, your expression… nervous? "you could just, y'know, share the bed with me."

oh. matty can feel his heart pounding in his ears, diminishing the volume of your continuing (and frantic) monologue: "i mean, i know it'll be tight cos it's a single, and you've always insisted on sleeping on the floor even when i've offered to let you have the bed, but it's really cold tonight and i wouldn't mind the extra heat, and at least if we're sharing i know you won't be freezing and you'll be comfy, yeah?"

"ok," matty says, despite barely registering anything you said in his fugue state. he's drunk, and lovesick, but he's not an idiot. "yeah. we'll share."

your face breaks into a relieved smile. "ok. good. um, before that, would you…?"

"oh, of course," matty darts over to you as quickly as he can, while you turn to face the mirror again and lift your hair up. slowly, with fingers fumbling just as much from nerves as from alcohol consumption, he undoes the zip on the back of your dress. the perfume still lingering on the back of your neck clouds his brain with every breath he takes, and the organ threatens to completely shut down when matty pulls the zip down low enough to reveal a lack of bra clasps underneath your outfit. once he's finished undoing you, he steps back while he still has the ability to do so, turning away from you. "there you go."

"thank you," comes the reply from behind him, followed by the sounds of fabric rustling and drawers opening. matty busies himself with carefully clearing your bed, only turning back round when you tap his arm; he smiles when he sees you in a big t-shirt, hair shoved up messily and makeup half-removed, holding out a pair of sweatpants he recognises as his. "you left these here last time. i thought you might want them to sleep in. and i did wash them, before you ask."

you roll your eyes as matty presses the trousers to his nose anyway as a joke - when he registers that his clothes now smell like you and your washing powder, however, it stops being funny in favour of being lovelorn-inducing. but his smile quickly returns when he properly notices the design on the t-shirt you're wearing. "i cannot believe you're wearing a drive like i do shirt to bed. thought you were more proud of me, to be honest, darlin'."

"of course i am, but it's comfy," you protest, brow furrowing in the most adorable way as you frown. it softens wistfully as you continue. "and it reminds me of home."

weird, matty thinks. you're not from- oh. christ.

he's home, to you. 

what a fucking thought that is. matty's not quite sure how he's managing to stay sane, but he smiles, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your back. "that's very lovely of you, sweetheart."

"s'just the truth," you reach up on tiptoe to pat matty on the head, before pulling away. he misses you immediately. "you wanna get ready for bed?"

does he ever. 

matty nods, kicking his shoes off and quickly undressing while you climb into bed. despite the fact you've seen him in shorts and nothing else before, he wonders if he should feel self-conscious as he strips to his underwear in front of you; something's definitely different with the two of you tonight, matty's sure of it, and he can't quite tell if that's a good or bad thing. probably good, although that might be wishful thinking on his part, just like the way he's convinced your eyes linger on his torso with interest in the mirror when he takes his shirt off.

anyway. clad in his sweatpants and no more, matty climbs into your single bed. he tries to get as comfy as he can, facing away from and without touching you - whether that's to ensure your space and comfort or to stop himself from agonising over how much he likes you, matty has no idea. he isn't comfortable in the slightest, but he'll endure it.

you, on the other hand, have other ideas. with a sigh of "daft boy", you move forward so your body is against matty's back, slinging an arm and leg over his front and spooning him. "is this alright? i figured it was the best way to keep us warm."

"it's perfect, sweetheart," matty replies, and he isn't lying. despite how much it hurts being so close to you and repressing how he really feels about you, matty's surprisingly chill about the way you're clinging to him. cautiously, but feeling compelled to do so, he brings his hand up to stroke your thigh; when you hum contentedly, matty rests it there. "goodnight."

"mmm, night," you yawn out, the blanket of sleep falling on you fast. "love you."

matty smiles, half sadly, half dreamily. "love you too, darlin'."

the next day, he writes a new song.

[fanaticsnail]

Snail!! Please, I have to many drawing wips already, you can't make me think of cowboy! Rosi right now!

(Unless?)

More Cowboy Rosinante? Don't mind if I indulge. Let's talk about how it'd work before we get into the little scenes.

Eyes

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 650+

He was halfway to death when he came to you.

The man had barely enough clothes to shroud him in, dripping and crusted over with blood belonging to who knows. As soon as you opened your front door, he slumped to his knees and gawked up at you with uncertain eyes that held such deep sorrow.

He claimed he had no idea who he was. All thoughts and notions as the man he chose to become was lost to him. His mind was a web of fog, clutching to each morsel of his mind, body and soul. There was nothing of him that remained: only language from his lips, and soft movement his body as he gazed up at you in the luminance of soft lamplight.

Your father tasked you to dress his wounds, and clean him up as best you could, while you waited for the medics and surgeons to attend him at your farm. Each swipe of flesh, each gentle caress, each smooth motion wiping the marred skin from the remains of his wounds slowly cleansed his body of a violent history lost to him. All you received in return was nothing but a soft look of wonder from the messy blonde receiving your care.

In that expression alone, you, and those who ran your family’s ranch, gave him a new name.

Eyes.

Those eyes never left you. Not for a single moment. Not while training with horses, learning the beasts, wrangling cattle, and showcasing stellar marksmanship. He only ever had eyes for you, and the rest of the workers gave him hell for it. With no other name to crown him with, the Eyes would have it.

When Eyes was crowned with his first hat, his heart swelled with pride. He had been with your family for so long, he felt as one of you. Each hazing he endured, brand he gifted, and championship he managed to win in riding and shooting, he only ever sought you out with that gaze that never left you.

Eyes was your protector. He stuck by you as chaperone to each foul date, never asking questions while only gazing at you from the rearview mirror of your father’s truck. Escorting you inside your family’s homestead by a gentle hand and a kind smile, Eyes ensured you were safe before tipping his hat to you and bidding you a silent farewell.

That's how you remained, Eyes watching on from afar while he graced you with that soft smile you had come to pine for. Washing his face in a troff first thing in the morning, placing a cigarette between his lips and gently enjoying a cup of dark coffee, he always seemed to find where you were with those twin hazel orbs.

There was a crack of red lightning in the warmth of his irises, something simmering beneath the surface. Something partially unhinged and hidden from all of you. While he pined and yearned for you in the silence of ten years, he never once stepped out to find the path leading him back to his memory. Only ever the gentleman, he simply never made a move on you to keep the peace between your family and yourself.

But one day, he finally plucked up the courage to do so.

Just as he was about to take that first step up towards the house, hat in his hands and clutched to his chest, no whisper on his lips other than the rehearsed speech he practiced in the silence, he was desperate for a single name to speak to you. He was so close to finally confessing to you, finally giving in to those feelings he tried to repress, there was not a single thing that would hold him back from it now.

Until it appeared at his leather-boot clad heels.

All it took was a yellow-tanned bounty with a face of a foreign man in a white spotted hat to have that red flash auburn in his eyes. Eyes would find his name, learn his family, and know all of the things he had ever done as both marine and pirate under the name of law and lawless.

Donquixote Rosinante: former marine, saboteur to the Donquixote Pirates, protector of Trafalgar Law, and proclaimed dead by those who witnessed it happen in the fall of soft snow, was holding a page with a face of a boy now grown to a man.

That same Trafalgar Law he wanted to protect had made a name living up to that middle initial that willed him to.

Romance would have to wait for this cowboy, now posed with a quest to seek out that history and reclaim it as himself again. Eyes would be yours eventually, but for now, he needed to be Donquixote Rosinante again.

[harrysfolklore]

since sarah n mitch are taking a break from the band, could you write a blurb abt babysitter!y/n?? like did she stay home or is she still on tour w harry??

nanny on tour

i really really really hope you like this ! let me know your thoughts

BABYSITTER!YN MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Life couldn’t get any better for YN and Harry at the moment.

Even though they just celebrated their first anniversary together a few months ago, it felt like their relationship had been going strong for years, deciding to move in together after Harry’s Los Angeles residencies were done with the promise of a bright future.

However, not everything had been easy for them and they had to face a big challenge for their relationship in the middle of Harry's NYC residencies, when they had a pregnancy scare.

"Okay, let's not panic," Harry said when YN told him about her period being late after many days of feeling sick, taking her hand in his. "We'll figure this out together."

And they did.

After being by her side when she took the pregnancy tests that came out negative, he promised her that it would´t change their relationship, it would only make it stronger.

And now they were on their shared Los Angeles home where they were staying for a few days before embarking on the next leg of Love On Tour; Australia, New Zealand and Asia.

Harry was excited to say the least, not only because he was finally going back to playing for those crowds, but also because YN was finally going to be able to actually attend the shows, since Sarah and Mitch decided to step back from the tour life for a moment and focus on their baby son.

"I can't believe you're finally going on the road as my girlfriend and not Mitch and Sarah's nanny." Harry said as he watched her throw stuff on her suitcase from the bed, they were catching their flight to Australia early in the morning.

"I'm excited," YN told him, a small smile showing, "I'll finally have the full Love On Tour experience, huh?"

"And then some." he replied with a smirk on his face, and YN's packing up was long forgotten as he pulled her to the bed with him.

The next morning, they woke up early and headed to the airport to catch their flight to the first stop on the tour, Perth. As they arrived at their hotel, Harry watched as YN's eyes widened in amazement at the sights and sounds of the bustling city. They spent the day exploring together, trying new foods and taking in the local culture.

As Harry prepared for his first show, YN watched in awe as he rehearsed with his bandmates. It was a part of the show she rarely got to see since she was on the road working, and as she watched him command the stage and do what he enjoyed the most, she felt herself falling even more in love with him.

When the time to get dressed for the show finally came, Harry's nerves about YN being in the crowd and watching the show for the first time kicked in.

"You're going to be amazing out there," YN said, taking his hand in hers.

"I hope so, I don't want to disappoint you." Harry replied, his nerves still getting the better of him.

"Come on, how on earth could you disappoint me, lovie? You're Harry Styles, that's like, impossible" YN tenderly said, rolling her eyes with affection.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her words. Even though he was one of the biggest stars in the world, YN had a way of making him feel like a regular guy, and that was one of the things that made him fall for her.

"I'm just a guy with a guitar," Harry said, pointing to his instrument.

"And an incredible voice, and cool outfits, and a nice arse too" YN added, standing up and walking over to him, making him laugh and pull her closer.

"I'm going to miss you while you're on stage," YN spoke again, her voice soft and sweet, making Harry melt, "But this time, I'll be right here when you get off stage and not all the way back in the hotel."

Harry instantly smiled at her words, excitement taking over her body, "I'm going to miss you too," he pulled her close and gave her a kiss, "I'll be thinking of you the whole time," Harry said, his forehead pressed against hers.

"Go make me proud, rockstar." and with a final kiss to her lips, Harry was ready to take stage

That night, YN stood in the crowd as Harry performed for thousands of fans. She felt a sense of pride and admiration wash over her as she watched him sing his heart out on stage for the first time as his girlfriend. When the show was done, Harry rushed backstage where YN was waiting for him, held her tightly in his arms.

"I'm so happy you're here with me, Nanny." he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm happy to be here," YN replied, smiling up at him. "I can't wait to see what other adventures we'll have together on this tour."

As they headed to the next city, Harry felt a sense of excitement and contentment wash over him. He knew that having YN by his side on this journey would make everything even more special, and he was grateful for every moment they had together.

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