#a band pack would be cool!
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citrlet · 2 years ago
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💌 simblr asks: what EP and/or GP would you like to see in the future?
i think number one to me right now would be an ep or gp centered on fairies! i think it's the last occult we don't have? and i would looooove to see them finally in the game + a cute whimsical type world!
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squintsintwink · 3 months ago
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I Am Once Again Asking EA To Add A Bands Feature To The Sims 4
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nightly-ruse · 2 years ago
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I think about animal fiction with ferrets so much. I just want to give them a society and culture and have them be slinky creatures of the swamps
I love them
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supercantaloupe · 1 year ago
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aghh everybody keeps asking me to consider doing More Things on wednesdays and i don't know if i can do any of them 😥
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neon-danger · 9 months ago
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Don't like aging, don't like perma-death, everyone gets a death flower so they can help others, but they worked so much better in Sims 3, god, why are death flowers backwards in 4. I'm literally just keeping those kids as death flower receptacles as Alex is very easily death prone for being someone who cannot drown. This fairy dude (I have a lot of mods) tried to freeze him to death, multiple times, and succeeded once, if not for those stupid children I could bring over and use to give a death flower to the reaper I'd have had to redo a whole lot. Now why that fairy guy was compelled to freeze Alex to death, I have no idea. His scales protect him from the cold EXCEPT in the case of fairy freezing spells I guess. Oh and Alex makes a lot of fires too, I think the cat does too. Anyway he's cursed and if not for growing Death Flowers in his backyard he'd be dead a dozen times. :)
Hematite prevents sims from dying when charged
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moonchildstyles · 3 months ago
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fender
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it's 1976, and harry is the biggest rockstar in the world and y/n never thought she would have the chance to meet her idol. especially not like this.
wordcount: 12k+
—————
(Y/N) swore she could feel every note from the blaring speakers in her veins, her bones rattling from the base. Her skin was heated, a sheen of sweat covering every exposed inch. Bodies were packed all around her, dancing and jumping, hands in the air just as hers were. The bar of the barricade pressed heavily against her stomach, holding her back with a cool punch through her clothing. She'd never been to a concert by herself before, but she was finding she didn't mind the fact she was on her own, her dancing much more inhibited with her voice beginning to crackle from the sheer pitch of the screams she was letting out. 
Before her, up high on the stage with the bright lights cloaking his form, was her favorite rockstar. 
Harry Styles. 
In flared bell bottoms, and chest bare, he pranced across the stage, taking in every adoring eye trained on him. His trusted guitarist was shredding away on his neon orange Fender, taking care of the hard work so Harry could swagger about the stage with his microphone swinging in his hand. Sweat dripped down the blocks of his muscles, shimmering as if he had spread the glitter on his eyes over the rest of his body. His lips were curled in a lopsided smile, smug and cocky; he was more than aware of the fact that thousands had filled this arena just to see him. 
Another upside to having made it to this show by herself, (Y/N) didn't feel all that silly when she screamed that much louder when he strided over to her side of the stage. Dimples dented the rockstar's cheeks as he took in the adoration being flung at him from all sides. He scanned through the crowd, taking in every set of sparkling eyes and no doubt spotting every beautiful face that was more than willing to do just about anything for him. 
While this was the first time (Y/N) had the privilege of seeing Harry live (after having missed both his '73, and '75 tours, it seemed '76 was finally her year) it was no secret just how much love he liked to share with his fans. He never denied it in interviews and more than once photographs of women draped over him had come to light and landed on the front cover of tabloids, or anonymous sources sharing details of sordid nights in his bed. Whenever confronted with questions about those stories or who he was pictured with, he famously gave a dimpled smile and shrugged it of, saying something about how he fell in love easily and didn't shy away from the feeling. 
She wondered what she saw when he looked out at the huddles of people looking up at him tonight—if he saw someone he could fall in love with for the night. 
As the song continued on, it was time for his next verse though he didn't stray from this side of the stage. He brought the microphone to his lips, crooning his famous lyrics in perfect melody with the rest of his band. He put on a show where he stood as he sang a particularly suggestive line while trailing a hand down his bare stomach, hooking a finger into the waist of his pants to bring them down for a teasing peek of more skin before snapping back into place. 
(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her lungs, immensely grateful for how close she'd made it to the stage. She wouldn't have been able to see the thatch of hair he revealed had she been any farther back. Screamed erupted around her, Harry seemingly liking the reaction so much he had to pull away from his microphone to let out a bubble of laughter. By the time he went back to doing his job, there was a particularly smug smile on his lips with matching dimples and amused eyes.
He continued to sing even as pairs of panties and lacy bras were thrown up to the stage, women screaming for his attention with their shirts pressed up to expose their chests. He weaved around the set up, playing with his bandmates to the excitement of his fans. He soaked it all in with exuberant confidence, shining under the stage lights and he put on his show. (Y/N) felt breathless as she sang along with him, her bones rattling as the pit danced around her, pushing her harder against the barricade at her stomach. 
By the time the final lines of the song came around, he had made his way back to (Y/N)'s side of the stage. She and the fans around her danced and sang along, her voice scratching in the back of her throat as she gazed up at him. The tune ended in a flourish of drum beats, heavy and bone rattling through the arena. 
Harry finished with phantom punches to the air in time with the drum beats just before the lights went down for a flickering moment. His chest was heaving by the time the lights came up once more, his band breaking to take sips of water, his guitarist changing out instruments for another, just as flashy, guitar. The spotlight was dead center on Harry, his eyes casting far out to the rest of the packed arena before him. (Y/N) went her mouth drop into a gape as she took in the man before her—no photograph able to do him justice. 
"Everyone still doing good? Having fun?" his voice boomed through the speakers, gesticulating with his hands as if he could reach to the back stretches of the venue. The arena erupted once more, pitched screams calling for his attention. He let out a breathy laugh into the microphone. "I'd hope so," he crooned, "because I'm having a wonderful time. So many pretty faces—thank y'for coming to see me tonight." 
He reveled under the cheers given to him, going quiet as he turned his gaze down, to the pit closest to him. 
To where (Y/N) was standing right in front of him. 
His eyes lingered over the rows behind her before coming closer, stopping a little too close for comfort. 
(Y/N) didn't want to get too far ahead of herself, but was he looking at her?
"And what about right here?" he asked, bending down to one knee at the edge of the stage as if he wasn't close enough already, "Having fun?" 
Those around her burst into screams, pressing behind her as if they could surge through her and get closer to the rockstar. Her vision was vignetted with all the reaching hands attempting to touch him, fingers outstretched. (Y/N)'s reaction was stuck in her chest, her body stunned into paralysis with sweaty hands tightening around the barricade bar.
His only acknowledgment of the rest of the world came in the form of a quirked lip while his eyes stayed fixed to one spot. The longer she blinked up at him, no reaction, his smile grew, a brow lifting. 
Whatever view the rest of the venue was getting had another round of raucous reactions. 
Finally mustering enough wherewithal, (Y/N) nodded her head, her mouth still in a small gape. 
The quirk in his lips tilted that much more, a dimple settling in his cheek with a hint of the white of his teeth. "Yeah?" 
Though inaudible compared to the ruckus around her, she nodded her head with a parroted, "Yeah." 
His eyes lingered on her for a passing moment, the tip of his tongue peaking out to skim the blunt of his teeth. Around her, (Y/N) could feel the screams just as much as she heard them, the volume coasting over her skin and seeping through her pores.
"'M gonna make tonight the best night of your life, yeah?" he pressed, speaking directly to her though the world had their own view of the moment.
Another stunned wave touched (Y/N)'s bones, stuttering her lungs and knocking her breath askew. If she wasn't being delusional—something she couldn't be one hundred percent sure of—there was a chance Harry's eyes touched over the neckline of her top, following the line of her exposed skin. 
She gave him a small nod. 
He gave her another smile before rising to the full of his height once more, the stretch of his body on display. Waltzing over the stage, (Y/N) knew he was speaking, pointing out more in the crowd and doing what he did best by enchanting the masses and bending them to his will, though she didn't hear a word of it. 
The trail of his gaze left behind a warmth like he had touched her with his own hands, enough pressure lingering on her skin even when another song started up. 
Once the first verse of the song had played, (Y/N) felt her body come back to life slowly, the gravity of the moment beginning to turn into adrenaline. The man she had a hidden poster of had just made eye contact with her and told her he'd make her night special. Harry Styles had looked at her. 
Thank god she showed up early tonight. This barricade was now holy ground as far as she was concerned. 
Just as she began to sway along with the rest of the bodies around her, checking back into reality, the rockstar swaggered across the stage once more, taking his time to prowl before her. 
He looked out in the crowd, reaching far back before trailing closer to where she stood just in front of him once more. He shuttered a single eye in a wink to her with a stanza of particularly suggestive lyrics dripping from his lips.
This time she couldn't help the scream that bellowed from her lungs, only spurred on by the grin on his face.
—————
"See? If you ask nicely, y'get what y'want, don't you?" 
Harry's booming voice reawakened the arena. He was giving them the encore they had been begging him for once he exited the stage, the chants of his name being enough to have his band reenter with the rockstar himself following closely behind. (Y/N)'s heart thundered in her chest, cheers leaving her throat. 
Mourning the end of the show could wait another ten minutes. 
The opening notes of a new tune started, the shredding of the guitar screeching through the arena. (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of Harry as he pranced across the space, his jeans sitting low on his hips (at the right angle, she swore she saw a decidedly thick bulge at his crotch—more than just needing a readjustment).
(Y/N) only had a chance to hear the first few lines of the opening verse before a large man in all black came to block her view. If not for the fact she was currently—as promised—having the best night of her life, she would have thrown a fit. She instead attempted to crane her neck around this block and catch glimpses of Harry for the last few moments of the night.
"Sweetheart," he yelled against the bass coming from the speakers, "You're coming with me." 
Blinking, (Y/N) forced her gaze to settle on this man. Just as she feared, he was looking right at her as he spoke. 
Though she was largely unwilling to not pay attention to the concert of her life, she didn't think she had much of a choice in ignoring this man. 
"Me?" she enunciated, pointing at herself if he wasn't able to hear her right. 
"Yes, you," he said again, eyes trained on her, "Now. Before the end of the show."
Had she done something wrong? She couldn't imagine she was any more rowdy than the rest of the crowd (especially, as she still had all of her undergarments on and her nose clean), but she was the one being removed? 
"Why?" she sputtered, anchoring to her spot. 
The man's lips thinned, unimpressed with her pushback. "I've been asked to bring you backstage." 
(Y/N) blanched at the new information. "By who?" she pressed, not entirely believing this moment. 
The man sighed, his shoulders lifting. He caught her gaze, holding it as he jerked his head to gesture to the stage behind him. 
Right where Harry Styles was prancing about, low slung jeans and all.
She blinked at him, flicking between his enlarged gaze to the rockstar at his back. "Really?" 
"Yes," he insisted, "And I would like to take you now while we still have the space." 
(Y/N) didn't immediately move, switching her eyes to Harry Styles, in all of his glistening glory. The curls on the top of his head were slick with sweat, but still managed to flop so handsomely over his features. His tattoos shuddered over his skin, animating with every belting note and roll of his body. 
He had promised to make this the best night of her life, and she couldn't imagine any better way than to meet him backstage. 
With the help of the man in black, she crossed the barricade with the eyes of those around her following closely behind. He led her carefully around the stage and through different equipment on quick feet, the music being left behind with the private backstage area before her. 
Chancing a look over her shoulder, Harry, with his microphone cord coiled around his hand and sparkling eyes, winked at her once more. 
—————
Sitting alone in what she figured was Harry's dressing room, (Y/N) could hear the final encore being played through the walls. While a part of her was itching to run back out, to catch those moments she had been looking forward to from the second she had bought her ticket, she was practically bolted to her spot. 
All around her were small relics of the man out on that stage. An herbal candle sat with a pool of melted wax on the vanity table, anchoring down a blue cloth. Flecks of glitter seemed to stick to near every surface, leaving specks of light dotted across every surface, including the familiar container of makeup remover reflected in the mirror. A faded t-shirt was on the ground, next to a rumpled pair of athletic sweats. A bottle of cologne balanced on the edge, just a bump away from falling to the floor. 
Her fingers fumbled in her lap, her heart puttering in her chest. She was backstage at a Harry Styles concert after being requested by the man himself. Knowing his discography well enough, every note that rocked through the walls acted like a ticking time clock, counting down to the moment she would no longer be alone in this dressing room. 
Muffled through the arena, she heard the music crescendoing, heavy drumbeats and addicting guitar riffs ruffling the structure. Harry's voice played over the music, though it was clear he wasn't singing. Was he saying his goodbyes for the night? 
The thought had her heart jumping into her throat, head going blank. 
Should she stand up? Should she meet him up there? Would he like her outfit or was the cutout between her breasts too much? Oh god, what was she going to say? 
Her pulse was kicked into overdrive when she heard a ruckus start up backstage, more voices piping up than she'd heard in the last ten minutes. Harry's voice had disappeared from the muffled tone he'd had on stage, making her pulse kick up that much more. 
How close was he? Was anyone else going to come back here with him? Would he think her pants were stupid?
The long line of questions came to a halt the second the doorknob turned, the sound seemingly louder than the band playing the show out back on the stage. A muffled goodbye sounded on the other side before the first glimpse of the rockstar could be seen.
He was looking over his shoulder, speaking to someone she couldn't see around the broad strokes of his frame. His bare skin shimmered with sweat and glitter, animating his tattoos over the blocks of his muscles. The denim of his jeans were tight around his thighs though the waist still managed to fall some down his hips, showcasing a pair of leafy tattoos. He was saying something, a string of words that she missed completely over the roaring in her ears. 
It felt like hours, watching him say his final goodbyes to whoever, before he finally turned around to face her. 
Had her mouth already been dropped open, or was that just a side effect of seeing the green of his eyes up close? 
"Hi," he smiled at her, moving towards his vanity table to retrieve the blue cloth held down under the candle, "How are you?" 
Blinking, (Y/N) practically stumbled to her feet, her hands behind her back in a fumbling mess. "Hi. I'm good, thank you. How are you?" 
A small smile touched his lips, "'M alright, thanks. 'M Harry." 
It was (Y/N)'s turn to smile, a breath of laughter falling from her lips. "Oh, you're Harry! Got it," she attempted to joke, feeling one of the many strings tensing her shoulders being cut when he rewarded her with a bubbling laugh. "I'm (Y/N)." 
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," he shared, a single curl flopping over his forehead as he ran the cloth over his face and down his neck, "'M happy y'made it back here—was worried y'weren't going to come after seeing y'talk to Paul." 
"I was just a little confused," she explained, noting the way his eyes dropped to her lips as she spoke, "I couldn't believe you were actually asking for me." 
"No?" he pressed, raising a brow with a quirk to his lips. He leant against the vanity counter, giving her all of his attention as if he wasn't shirtless with a sweaty chest staring at her. "And why is that, hm?" 
Somehow, even without the amps and speakers booming throughout the venue, his voice held more impact in the quiet dressing room. The bass seemed heavier, his accent more drawling, the draw of his lips more alluring without a microphone in the way. 
"Um," she started, blinking the stars out of her eyes, "Just... There was a lot going on out there—I didn't think you could even see me over the lights—or the bras." 
Harry laughed, dimples popping into his cheeks with a light in his eyes. "Yeah, there was a lot out there tonight. Want anything before 's all cleaned up out there?" 
He gestured out the door of his dressing room while (Y/N) shrugged. "Maybe. Was there anything pretty?" 
The way he let his eyes drop heavily to her body, touching over the cutout on her top and the soft of her midriff exposed by the cropped fit almost made (Y/N) want to stumble back. When he dared to meet her eyes once more, he had a coy curl to his lips as if she hadn't been there as he dragged his eyes over her. 
"I can think of a couple of things that might look pretty on you." 
Despite the small laugh that puffed from her lips, her heart hammered in her chest. She hadn't wanted to get too far ahead of herself when she was first asked to meet him backstage, but it was hard to ignore the way he looked at her and still think this was nothing more than a friendly conversation. 
"If there's anything you don't want, I'll take," she countered, hoping he couldn't hear the sound of her heartbeat with the way it was rushing through her ears. 
The coy smile on his mouth turned into something more genuine then, amusement in his eyes. "Yeah? Y'saw anything y'think I need to take home?" 
Even with the squeeze of her lungs, the nervous pit in her stomach, (Y/N) saw her own opportunity being dangled before her. She hoped she came off as nonchalant as she pictured as she shrugged, canting her head with a slight lick of her gaze down his chest. "I think you look good enough right now." 
While there was still a lingering flush on his cheeks from the stage, the adrenaline clearly visible on his features, her words seemingly only fanned him hotter. The cloth he held was now dropped to the vanity, his empty hands coming to rest on the lip of the counter behind him. His arms flexed at his sides, veins popping out on his forearms. 
"Good enough for what?" he pressed, a spark skittering through his eyes.
He hadn't shot her down. He was flirting back. Oh, god. 
What would one of the women in the magazines say? How did they flirt with him so effortlessly to be invited for a fanciful—even if fleeting—night? 
"You tell me," she countered, the only syllables that were able to squeak through her throat. 
Dimples were deep in his cheeks by the time he turned around, collecting the bottle of makeup remover before pouring some on his cloth. He began wiping away the glitter as he found her eyes in the mirror. 
"The band and I are going back to the hotel with a few friends—maybe party a little. Y'wanna come?" 
Bubbling excitement like what she felt out on the arena floor reentered her stomach. A bright smile touched her features. 
"I'd love to."
—————
"Pick your poison, darling." 
(Y/N) didn't even know there were hotel rooms with fully stocked bars, but here was one right before her. A liquor tray behind the counter was decorated with plenty of bottles and decanters, more than half already missing gulps. Harry was acting as her bartender while the rest of the band and various guests were traipsing around the suite, the door to the hallway left wide open as they milled in and out. Music pumped through a set of stereo speakers, a member of Harry's band acting as DJ with various records and cassettes being switched in and out upon the players. 
More than one familiar face swept through the suite, people she'd seen in the crowd of the arena tonight alongside those she'd met backstage. Some left the bathrooms with wide eyes and sniffling noses, others with hair bigger than when they had gone in and lipstick askew with a partner behind them. It was nowhere near the kind of party she had pictured when following after Harry, but she'd never been around rockstars before either. 
Flitting her gaze over the various bottles surrounding Harry, (Y/N) canted her head. "Anything sweet." 
Harry hummed, a slight quirk to his lips as he started fiddling about the different bottles. "Should've guessed, hm?" 
"Why do you say that?" 
Leaning on the bar, arms folded underneath her chest with her breasts pushed up, (Y/N) watched with her eyes lingering on his hands. All of his stage adornments, including his rings, had been left behind when he changed into something decidedly less ostentatious for this party, leaving the length of his fingers bare for her eyes to feast upon. 
"Jus' had a feeling," he smiled at her, his eye falling into a wink. 
(Y/N) watched with the same rapt attention she had given him on stage as he mixed her drink. He pulled bottles of clear liquor together with various juices, working in smooth movements as a brightly colored cocktail came together. Everything he did came off as fluid and practiced, the same kind of ease he offered to the stage with every note he belted and swagger of his hips.
"We jus' got here," Harry murmured, knocking her attention from his hands to his amused gaze, "Y'can't keep looking at me like that unless you're ready for our night to end." 
Her breath caught in her throat. He'd told her earlier that this entire floor had been booked out for him and his band, but his room was at the very end. The biggest suite, he'd said—with a terrace and everything. 
Would it be so bad to find out what his room looked like so early?
Attempting her best nonchalant facade, (Y/N) shrugged, a coy smile on her face. It was enough to make Harry laugh. 
She could see him open his mouth to say something only to be cut off by a shout of his name from across the room. He whipped to face the call, the baby curls drying on the back of his neck giving a bounce at the motion. (Y/N) turned to follow his line of sight, seeing a semi-familiar face she had passed when backstage heading towards them with a beaming smile. 
"I didn't know you were here! Took you forever to clean up, I thought you were spending the night at the venue," the man joked, pushing long dreads over his shoulder. His dark eyes danced over to (Y/N) for a fleeting second, his grin widening. "Is this your friend Mitch was telling me about?" 
Rounding the bar with a fluorescent drink in his hand, Harry handed off the glass to (Y/N) (no ice, the crystal warm from his hand) before slinging his arm over her shoulder. She felt a shiver touch the bottom of her spine, though she used all of her effort to keep it pinned down.
Harry shrugged her closer to him, the side of her breast pushing against him through the thin material of her top. "Yeah, this is (Y/N). Met at the show���saw her pretty face right in the front row." 
Harry's friend looked at her with raised brows, amusement laced in his eyes as he followed the length of Harry's arm around her shoulders. "Yeah? Liked the show?" 
(Y/N) eagerly nodded, Harry's hold slipping from around her shoulders to be readjusted around her waist with a flex. She could feel his eyes on her face as he awaited her answer. "Loved it," she chirped, smiling with a cant to her head, "I've never seen him live before, so tonight was really amazing. I feel really lucky." 
Maybe she was laying it on thick—she already made it backstage with his arm around her waist, she didn't have to catch his attention anymore—,but she liked seeing the dimples denting into his cheeks as he listened to her. 
"I didn't know tonight was your first time," he mumbled to her, voice low as if they didn't have another person standing just in front of them, watching on with amused eyes. 
"I'd feel lucky too if I were you," the man continued, his voice lilting in a tease, "Most of Harry's friends never make it past the dressing room."
"Alright, Jay," Harry cut in, voice louder than a moment before as he suddenly steered them towards the end of the conversation, "I'll see y'later. Thanks." 
Jay only laughed it off, seemingly having achieved the reaction he wanted from Harry. (Y/N) didn't let herself linger on the motion of Harry's other friends—she knew she wasn't first and would most likely not be the last. Some of her wildest dreams had been reached just by meeting him, she could be happy with whatever she was granted tonight. Even if it was just that: one night. 
"Sorry," Harry murmured, saving face as he guided (Y/N) away from Jay and towards the sitting area where most of the musicians were huddled together with drinks and records splayed across the coffee table. She ignored the faint lines of white scattered over the recognizable covers. "He likes to get on m'nerves, I think." 
"It's alright," (Y/N) reassured, watching as Harry sunk into the one cushion left on the couch, "I thought it was funny." 
Harry raised a brow at her, a sly smile on his lips, "'M sure y'did. C'mere darling."
He gestured her to his lap, opening his arms for her to plant herself on his thighs. Looking at him with his eyes trained upwards at her, sparkling and a bit lazy after putting on an energetic show, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. She had to make a point to see from tripping all over herself to take up his invitation. 
There were eyes all around that watched as she took her spot on Harry's spread thighs, taking note of his arm wrapping around her middle to keep her steady. She had her own eyes down looking at her pretty drink as she hid the smile on her face. The cropped cut of her top allowed his palms to press against the bare skin of her waist, calluses roughening his touch from his years of playing different guitars. She was sure he could feel the line of goosebumps that rose in the wake of his touch, including the circuit his thumb started up around the waistline of her pants. 
(Y/N) brought her head up when she heard the call of Harry's name from one of the many sitting around the coffee table. The guitarist—Mitch—had his head tilted, looking at Harry with a sly smile on his face. 
"Mitchell?" Harry drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice as he pulsed a hand on (Y/N)'s waist. 
"Are you going to introduce any of us to your friend?" 
While Mitch and others in the circle didn't look particularly surprised to see someone on Harry's arm, it appeared Jay wasn't kidding with his comment about a rare few of Harry's friends making it past the dressing room. 
"This is (Y/N), everyone," Harry relented, his voice low despite the music blasting just behind them. Nonetheless, everyone gave him rapt attention as if he had a microphone in his hand. "(Y/N), this is everyone." 
"Hi, everyone," (Y/N) smiled, hoping she came off funnier than she sounded to herself,  "Nice to meet you." 
She could feel Harry laugh, his chest puffing from behind her. She took another sip of her drink, hiding her proud smile. 
Conversation bubbled up then, some words slurred and slow while others were rambling at a rapid pace. (Y/N) sipped her drink as she took in the environment, listening in as if she were watching a movie. Harry's rumbling voice was an anchor at her back, his hand on her thigh keeping her attention as she tuned into his voice. 
Behind her, he and Mitch were talking about the new customer Fender that was being made in Harry's honor. Perfect for the next album, she'd heard, the information brightening up her face. 
"What are y'smiling about, hm? Something funny?" Harry's lips brushed the back of her ear, his voice drifting down the column of her neck. As he spoke he shifted his hand up to land on her waist, giving the curve a tickling squeeze. She jumped in his lap, holding her drink tight to her chest as she let out a gasping laugh. 
"No," she smiled, turning to face him as he gazed up at her, "Just... New music? Already?" 
"'M always working on something," he murmured, keeping his voice quiet as if conspiring with her on sensitive secrets. 
Curling in his chest, (Y/N) could still hear the rivers of conversations flowing around them, eyes that landed on her as she cuddled up to a rockstar, but she kept her eyes on him. "Really? But you're on tour." 
He shrugged around her. "There's always something to write about," he told her, eyes dragging down her face until he landed on her lips, "Something worth making a song about." 
Her skin heated, feeling his gaze as if he touched her with his calloused fingers. Feeling his attention so heavily was like finishing her drink and standing on a rooftop over the city: exhilarating. How had anyone before her survived these kinds of moments—been bold enough to sit through them without taking down every second and memorializing it?
She wasn't sure what he saw in her face, but whatever it was had the corner of his lips turning upwards. A smug smile molded his features. 
"What did I say about looking at me like that?" he murmured, his words teasing though the grip on her hip was far from. 
Canting her head, she matched his gaze, his grip on her keeping her grounded. "I thought you liked it." 
In that moment, his eyes seemingly darkened, pupil dilating. If not for the rest of the noise around them—the music and loud conversation—she wondered what his instincts would have urged him to do. 
"I do," he crooned, shifting under her with his hand still on her hip. 
The way he moved underneath her had her position adjusted on his lap, pushing the curve of her ass right against the middle of his thighs. A hard ridge pressed against her. Emphasizing his point exactly. 
"Oh," she sighed, feeling breathless as if she were still flush against the barricade with an illuminated rockstar before her. It was that memory of him swaggering about the stage, picking her face out and singing the songs she'd listened to like gospel, that had a burst of confidence in her chest. That rockstar had picked her. 
Keeping her eyes on his, she whispered, "Can I hear some of the new music? In your suite?" 
She didn't have to elaborate any further, Harry catching on to the undercurrent to her words. A single dimple touched his cheek, his hand pulsing around her hip. "Let's go." 
(Y/N) stood first off of his lap with Harry following after, reaching to take her hand in his. 
"Leaving already?" Mitch piped up, his eyes dancing with amusement as Harry turned to face him. 
"Gonna show her some of the stuff we've been working on," Harry drawled, nonchalant as he began inching towards the door, "Back in m'room." 
"Coming back?" 
Harry glanced at (Y/N) then, a silent communication that had her sheepishly smiling. "Probably not." 
"Right," Mitch said, brows bouncing over his eyes, "See you in the morning." 
Without much ceremony, Harry made their getaway for the night, leading her out into the hall. Stragglers were stationed around the ajar door, some with a lingering powder under their nose, others with hair messed up more than what (Y/N) was sure was intentional, matching the smudged makeup. Harry only gave them an acknowledging nod before heading down the corridor with her in tow. 
It was a short walk to the door, though (Y/N) hoped to be able to recall every step down the hall, every beat of her heart against her ribs in the morning. 
"After you," he crooned, opening the door with a flourish as he stood to the side. 
She gave him a smiling nod as she crossed the threshold. The press of his gaze could be felt on her backside. 
Flicking the lights on, a true suite was presented to her. She could only see the bedroom through a cracked door. The main living area, though much more put together compared to the room they'd just left, it was still clear a rockstar was crashing there. Random clothing was strewn about the space, open suitcases full of stage clothing as well as casual pieces. A heavy boombox with an array of tapes scattered around it was placed atop the television. 
It wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought it would be, given the rumors of what rock stars got up to in hotel rooms, but she figured that was what the extra rooms were for. It wasn't much fun sleeping in a mess, especially when on stage every night with little sleep to boot. 
"Didn't have time to clean up today, sorry," Harry said, closing the door behind them.
(Y/N) smiled over her shoulder at him, setting her cocktail on the counter of the kitchenette as she walked deeper into the suite. "Too busy?" 
Dimples in his cheeks, he walked slowly as he followed her in. "A little bit." 
Stepping around the mess, she found herself by the sound system, rifling through the cassettes he had around it. The plastic casing gleamed in the light, more than a handful scattered on the television stand. A few familiar, newer albums stood out. 
Bowie, Station to Station. Queen, Day at the Races. Ramones' debut. Elton John, Blue Moves.
One empty case was beside the player, the cover flipped open with the tape missing. Flicking it back, the cover of ABBA's Arrival shone. 
"ABBA?" 
Behind her, Harry slipped an arm around her waist, looking over her shoulder. "What? Y'don't like disco?" 
"I do," she laughed, turning around to face him, "Just didn't picture you as a dancing queen, that's all. You look a little bit older than seventeen." 
Harry clasped his hands behind her back, his fingers pressing into the bare skin presented through the crop of her shirt. His features were softened as he matched her gaze, eyes hooded and heavy. "Does that disqualify me?" 
"Probably." She wasn't sure when they started whispering, when his fingertips on her back began to creep under the hem of her top, but she melted into his touch with her own hands settling on his chest. 
"Still like me?" 
It should have been annoying to hear him speak this way. It wasn't hard to detect the cockiness—near arrogance—in his voice; he knew the answer before he'd even posed the question. It should have turned her off and had her taking her leave. 
But, it only had the opposite effect. His confidence was a warmth hitting her stomach.
With him so close, their bodies flush, she didn't have to try very hard when she shifted her hips to feel the bulge in his pants pressing to the small of her stomach. 
"Yeah," she answered simply, voice suddenly breathless. 
Just as she expected, a smug smile had his lips curling. His hooded gaze traveled around her features, the tip of his tongue skimming the corner of his mouth.
"How much?" 
This was the moment, she decided. There was no way she was in a rockstar's hotel room, after being plucked from the crowd at his request, feet away from his bedroom, and not going to take the opportunity that was being offered on a silver platter. 
"I can show you." 
That had to have been what he wanted to hear, given the fact he surged forward and sealed his lips to hers. 
Unsurprisingly (not that she'd thought about it, or anything), his lips were soft, molding to the shape of her own glossed pair. He slotted his mouth to fit her top lip between the pillows of his two, the tip of his tongue slicking the seam. The smoky taste of the whisky he'd drunk back in the other suite lingered on his tongue, mixing with the sweet liquor of her own sips. 
His hands on her back flattened out, leaving on her bare skin between the waist of her pants and the cropped hem of her top, with the other slipping underneath. His palm was aligned with the knobs of her spine, spanning between her shoulder blades under the thin material of her top.
Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss as he pulled her closer. The soft sound of their lips parting and meeting once more filled his hotel room, slick and messy. His tongue snaked out, sampling a taste of her own when she opened her mouth just enough for him. (Y/N)'s chest shuddered. 
She was kissing Harry fucking Styles. 
She hadn't kept a diary in years, but she was going to have to crack open a new one just to write out every detail of this moment. (Though, she might leave out the bit about how ABBA's Dancing Queen got them there).
"What are y'smiling about?" 
"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, hands traveling up his chest to follow the broad stretch of his shoulders. 
He pulled away, keeping his body close to hers as he gazed down at her. His lips were glossed with their shared spit, his pupils blown. "You're smiling. What's funny, hm?" 
His hand under her top shifted until he had his palm over her side, lining up with the ladder of her ribs. Goosebumps touched over her heated skin. 
"Nothing," she murmured, her own hands moving until she had his cheeks cupped in her palms. "Just... This is crazy." 
His eyes practically sparkled with the way she breathlessly spoke. Leaning close, he nudged his nose against hers, eyes slitted. "Yeah?" 
Gone was the smile on her face as she listened to the same voice that had soundtracked her life for the last handful of years. All while he looked at her with kiss-swollen lips and hooded eyes, his hard cock pressing through the material of his pants. 
"Yeah," she parroted, breathy with the word sweeping over his lips. 
It was his turn to smile, surging forward to smear his lips against hers. It was a lingering press, just a bit clumsy with the way his nose knocked hers. She was expecting him to tip his head and deepen the kiss once more, only for him to pull away. 
"I think I promised some new music, right, love?" 
Blinking up at him through her lashes, in a second she was transported back to the other suite, where she had conjured up the story of sneaking to his room to hear new tracks. That felt like hours ago—like she had been a different person back then. Someone who had never kissed Harry Styles before, at least. 
"Right," she smiled, playing along with the game he was proposing, "In your bedroom?" 
A smile grew on his lips. "Of course. Where else?" 
She let out a breathy laugh as she followed after him, hands twined together as they left behind the cassettes and strewn clothing for his darkened bedroom. Different from the rest of the suite, only lamps are left to light the room. Only a single standing lamp beside the rumpled bed was flicked on, leaving a small wash of light sitting on the messy sheets and the bedside table on the opposing side. The space holding a smokey sweet scent, matching the fragrance of his skin. A mess of unlabelled cassettes occupied the bedside table, with another more compact player off to the side. 
Shooting her a lopsided smile, Harry led her to the side table. His hand still in hers, he rifled through the tapes with his free hand. 
"What do y'want to listen to first?" 
The blank bricks held no indication of what could be on them other than a silver sharpie marking them as demos with different numbers. 
"This is your new music?" she murmured, eyes widening when she realized what she was looking at. 
"Mhm," he hummed, the weight of his eyes hitting the line of her profile, "Wanna hear m'favorites?" 
Looking at him through the fan of her lashes, she gave him a nod, pretending as if she wasn't as excited as she really was. She figured being giddy over a couple of tapes wasn't exactly a sexy look. 
Deft fingers pulled out a tape marked as Demo #4 before setting it into the player. Through the speakers, the sound was crackly and quiet compared to the records of his voice she had in her bedroom. The guitar started first, the chords wavy and psychedelic, the guitarist letting the notes linger as if they were melting through the speakers. 
Just as a familiar voice sounded over the notes, Harry pulled her flush to his chest with the help of the grip on her hand. His free hand cupped her cheek, his lips meeting hers in a clumsy mess. He fit her bottom lip between his two, immediately touching the tip of his tongue to the full center of her lip. (Y/N) didn't have to think before she had her mouth parted, letting him in once more. 
Letting go of his hand, she curled her fingers into the material of his shirt, clinging to him. She hadn't been aware her nails could be felt through the thin fabric until a shuddering breath rocked his chest. 
Walking her the short steps backwards, Harry blindly guided her to the edge of the bed. Her knees gave way to the mattress before she fell backwards, Harry following after with his hips fit between her thighs. 
The chains of his necklace dangled over the base of her throat, a cool point of clarity against the rising warmth of her skin. His hands skated down her sides, grazing the bare skin presented from the cut of her top. Her hips fit against his like a puzzle piece, cradling as he pushed against her core with lingering rocks. 
While his hands roamed over her form with their lips locked, (Y/N) took advantage of her position under him and locked a leg over his hip. Reaching up, she racked her fingers through his hair. The curls threaded around her fingers, a low rumble coming from his throat when she pulled just enough at the roots. 
The bass of his moan came just as there was a peak to his voice playing through the cassette player. (Y/N) was reminded she was making out with a rockstar to his own unreleased music. Her hips rocked upwards at the thought. 
Harry began to kiss down her chin, over her neck, and to the shelf of her collarbones while he fit the lengths of his fingers under the material of her top. Her bare skin sang for him, blood rushing through her veins. 
His lips travelled down until he hit the neckline of her shirt. "Can I take this off?" he murmured into her skin, the words sinking into her pores. 
"Uh-huh," she nodded, goosebumps rising when the tip of his nose brushed her neck. "Please." 
She could feel the way he smiled at her response, the curl pressed into her skin before he bit at the line of her collarbone. Her grip in his hair tightened at the short sting, her leg curling that much more around his hip. 
As promised, Harry, with his hands underneath her shirt, helped slide it over her head. Reluctantly, she pulled her hands from his hair and raised up from the bed long enough for him to slip it off her form and for the garment to become another piece of clothing puddled on the floor. 
Without a bra, her breasts were exposed to the buttery light of the lamp. Her nipples peaked in the cool air, her chest rising and falling with each breath she pulled in. Harry didn't wait before he lowered his face to her breasts, smearing his lips over the swells. He scraped his teeth along the plush skin, leaving tender marks in his wake. Her hands once again found his hair, burying her fingers among the strands. 
After a particularly harsh bite, she pulled his hair harshly. She could feel the sly smile that touched at his lips. 
"Feeling good, baby? Like it when I bite you?"
 She gave a clumsy nod of her head, mouth opened in a soundless nod. With her hands in his hair, she pulled him to her nipple, wanting the sting of his bite on the tender bud. 
He didn't immediately give in, only pecking a soft kiss to the peak before looking up at her through the frame of his lashes. "Want me rough? Like it like that?" 
Mindlessly nodding, she keened at the rumbling of his voice. "I like it rough," she bubbled, speaking over the unedited melodies of his voice. 
Instead of responding, Harry gave her what she wanted, his teeth scraping over her nipple. With her hands still in his hair, she gripped the strands at the roots, her back bowing into his lips. Her lips parted with a breathy moan. 
Harry took care of her, his mouth skating over her breasts. His teeth left tender spots—some she almost wanted to leave bruises—with his tongue following in the way, soothing the marks. Her stomach tightened with every wet press of his mouth, his hands sliding down to her hips. He played with the waist of her bottoms, his kiss following slowly after as he trailed down the soft of her stomach. The tip of his nose skimmed her skin, a tickling feeling rising in her chest that had a burst of laughter bubbling out. 
With his lips still attached to her, he peered up at her through his lashes. A slow smile stretched his lips, the curl pressing into her skin. 
"You're always laughing, baby," he murmured, "What is it this time, hm?" 
"Tickles," she laughed, the melody floating over the next track playing off of Demo #4.
A plume of his own rumbling laughter grazed her stomach, goosebumps raising on her skin. Cushioned by the messy, tobacco scented sheets, (Y/N) watched with laughter edging on her lips as he nuzzled into her stomach. He made a show of hitting the waist of her pants with his fingers hooked into the band. 
From between her thighs, he looked up at her with hooded eyes. "Gonna take these off, baby. 'S that alright?" 
"Uh-huh," she nodded. With his hair out of reach of her hands, she propped herself up on her elbows to watch as he worked, fingers curling into the sheets. 
With deft hands, Harry made quick work of the garment. It didn't take long before her pants and boots were on the ground beside her discarded top, leaving (Y/N) in nothing more than a pair of string panties. 
(It was done as a joke almost, when she was getting ready, to pick panties as if she was going to be showing off for someone after the show. She'd never been more grateful for that delusional choice).
Harry was still fully clothed as he took his place once more between her legs, laying the broad of his body flush to hers. Her breasts were pressed into the solid blocks of muscle of his chest, only the thin material of his top separating her skin from his. He sealed his lips to hers once more, getting a taste of her tongue against his in broad strokes.
It was her turn to start stripping him, keeping her mouth to his as she plucked at the neckline of his shirt. 
He pulled away with a breath, lips spit-slicked and kiss-swollen. He looked all too satisfied with himself as he gazed down at her, pulling off his shirt. Throwing it somewhere in the room, (Y/N) didn't have a chance to catch the landing before he was crowding around her once more. 
"Trying to get me naked?" he murmured, a teasing thread through his tone, "Think 'm that easy, love?" 
"I'm hoping," she smiled, pecking a messy kiss to the corner of his mouth. She could taste the smear of her lipstick on his skin. 
Chasing after her mouth, he trailed his lips over her cheek, following the line of her cheekbone. Whispering to her, lips brushing her ear, he said, "Y'want me, baby? Tell me." 
Between the press of his covered cock against her pussy, the rumble of his voice through her chest and against the shell of his ear, her eyes fluttered to a close. Her mouth was dropped in a gape, her breathing stilted. 
"I want you," she said, suddenly breathless, "I-I've thought about this before." 
She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Yeah? What've y'thought about, baby?" 
"Yeah," she repeated dazedly, sucking in a harsh gasp when ground down hard between her legs. "I—um—I wondered if all the stories were true. If-if you are really like how everyone says." 
"Is that why y'dressed like this tonight? Hoping you'd find out for yourself?" 
She didn't want to melt over how cocky he was, how sure of himself over assuming she had dressed with him in mind. But, he was right—she wanted him to at least see her, remember her if she was lucky enough. Only in her wildest dreams did she imagine her cutout crop top and tight pants would land her here. 
With her eyes still closed, she nodded her head. "I wanted to know if your songs were true." 
"Which ones?" 
"The ones," she stalled when she felt his hand slip between their bodies, tickling over soft curves of her body until he reached the apex of her thighs.  "Um—the ones about... You sing a lot about eating pussy." 
His laugh was warm, bubbling over her. "I do, don't I?"
"Almost two albums worth," she teased, a lighthearted tone running under her words before she was cut off. 
Between her legs, he made no ceremony of the way he pulled her panties to the side and dragged his fingers through her folds. It wasn't until he split her open that she realized just how wet she'd become. Slick noises from between her legs filled the bedrooms, two of Harry's fingers slipping through her slit in long strokes, prodding at her weeping hole and nudging her clit, in a smooth circuit. 
"What did y'think about when you'd hear those songs?" Harry asked as if she had any mind left to comprehend anything but his touch.
Squeezing her eyes shut when he circled her clit in a teasing touch, she dug her nails into the strapping muscles of his biceps. Under her hands she could feel the way the hand between her legs had his arm flexing with every movement.
"Huh?" 
Through a smile he pressed a messy kiss to the space before her ear. "What did y'think about when y'had your fingers in your pussy?" 
The blunt wording had her insides tightening, a squeeze she was sure he could feel as he brushed over her opening. 
"How did I fuck you in your pretty head, hm? Tell me, baby." 
Her mouth had a mind of its own as she started blabbering off without a thought. "Hard—You'd fuck me hard. I-I'd let you do anything to me, daddy." 
His hand between her legs lagged, lingering close to her clit but not close enough. "What was that?" 
"What?" she mumbled, turning her head in hopes of catching him in a kiss. 
Harry pulled away, just out of reach though he kept his hooded eyes on hers. "What did y'jus' say?" 
Blinking at his question, she attempted to cast her mind back enough to catch any memory of what she said. It dawned on her slowly, the kind of word she let slip from her imagination and into the real world. 
"Um," she floundered, skin flushing in a different way than just a heartbeat before. 
His smile grew, lopsided and entertained over her tied tongue. Leaning over her, he nudged his nose against hers, the full of his lips just barely brushing over hers. 
"Y'called me daddy." 
(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Her hands tightened around his biceps. 
"Say it again, baby." 
Her mouth dropped into a gape. He wanted her to say it again?
"What?" 
"Say it again," he murmured, his voice melding with the crackly tape soundtracking this moment, "'S alright—I know y'want to." 
How was she supposed to say no to that?
Hyperaware of the way her voice wrapped around the word, she hoped it would be just as intriguing to him this second time. 
"Daddy." 
A rumbling moan left his chest just before he dove down, slotting his lips against hers in a messy kiss. Between her legs, he didn't hesitate before he slipped his fingers inside. The length of the digits were fit snug inside, opening her up as he gave a few cursory thrusts through. She could barely even kiss him back, her face screwing up in pleasure at the jolting touch with her lips parting. Harry slipped his tongue inside, licking over her own as he stroked his fingers through her pulsing walls.
Her breathing completely stalled when he curled his fingers, the calloused pads pressing into the spongy spot hidden among her walls. There were only a few times when she'd had the patience to find the spot herself, her memories of the sensation paling in comparison to what was happening to her now. Instinctively, she wanted to close her thighs, keep his hand from moving anywhere away from her. Harry's free hand came down and cupped the soft inside of her thigh, and splayed her legs open wide for him. 
"Again," he ordered, the command falling on her tongue. 
It didn't take a single thought before she was falling to his instruction. "Daddy—fuck." 
"Feel good, baby?" he crooned, breathy and heated against her mouth. 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she whined. 
"I bet it does," he teased, "Can barely keep still for me, huh? For daddy?"
 Her stomach wound itself tight at the sound of his accent, the same voice she'd listened to through her headphones and the crackles of her record player, wrapped around the title. This was what her fantasies were made of. 
"Liked that?" he drawled, a sly smile working onto her lips, "Could feel how much y'liked that. Is this what y'thought about when you'd fuck yourself, baby?" 
Rocking her hips up into his hand, he never lagged on circling the spongy wall inside her, only breaking when he opted to thrust deep inside to keep her on edge. His palm was pressed headily against her clit, the heel smeared heavily over it with every lingering stroke through her insides. 
"Al-always you," she breathlessly admitted, "Always wanted you there with me." 
"I know, baby. Y'need me, huh?" 
"Yes, daddy," she panted, eyes rolling to the back of her head. 
Dropping his forehead to rest on the apple of her cheek, she felt Harry's own heavy breaths  sweeping over her heated skin. "You're gonna come for me, baby. I want y'to come on m'fingers, then 'm gonna fuck you like y'want."  
He didn't give her any room to respond as he kept his palm heavy on her clit and drilled the pads of his fingers to the sensitive spot inside her. He didn't relent, her senses becoming overwhelmed with nothing but him. Even the sheets smelled of him, there was nowhere she could turn without finding more of him to pull in. 
Her toes curled as she allowed herself to sink into the pleasure brewing in her stomach, her nails digging into the flesh of his biceps. She could feel her insides tightening, ribboning together in a contracting bow. (Y/N) wasn't even sure if her lungs were working around the pounding of her heart, her breathing shallow. 
Suddenly, the pleasure she was feeling and floating in was too much. Her muscles were bunched almost too tight, snug around his fingers and sucking him in as if there were more to be taken.
Letting go of his arm, she reached for his wrist for an anchor. "I—Wa—Harry, I—" 
"I know, baby, I know," he breathed, shifting until he caught her swollen lips in a kiss, "You're gonna squirt f'me, yeah? Make a mess with me." 
"I—I've never—I can't—"
"You can. You can and you will, baby. Squirt for daddy." 
The culmination of the way he talked to her—the rockstar she'd admired for years—the weight of his body pinning her to the mattress, the sound of his unreleased music filtering through the heated room, and every stroke of his fingers through her pulsing walls had her giving way to his command. 
(Y/N) swore every bit of her body bunched, her hand tight around the bones of his wrist, toes curls, and eyes squeezed shut. Harry never relented, working her through the heaviest weight in her stomach. In a heartbeat, everything her body was squeezing, holding inside herself, let go. 
A gush came from between her legs, rushing out around the plug of his fingers in her pussy. Every shallow motion of his hand against her went from slick to completely wet sounding, every beat of his fingers coaxing another rush of cum from her. 
With her mouth dropped in a wordless gape, (Y/N) felt Harry's eyes on her with the way her skin buzzed, hyperaware. Her mind was cast elsewhere, miles away with her body anchored right where she was underneath him. She wasn't sure when she would come back—if she even wanted to with the way the feeling washed over each of her nerve endings. 
"Look at that," he murmured in awe, his voice finally sounding like more than a rumble through the rushing heartbeat in her ears. "Jus' like I asked. So good, baby. So good f'me." 
The descent was slow, the aftershock of her orgasm lingering in her bones until it finally relented enough for her to crack her eyes open. Harry looked down at her, satisfied with dark eyes trained on her features. With a jolting touch to her clit, he pulled his hand out from her pulsing walls, leaving her swollen and sensitive between her thighs. 
She could feel the inside of her thighs slick with her release, Harry's hand that landed on her hip just as sticky. Dipping his head down, he caught her in a languid kiss, nose nudging the bridge of hers. He was a bit too proud of himself, she thought, a dazed smile touching her lips. 
"Told you, y'could," he mumbled into her kiss, "Gotta listen to me more, hm?" 
"Maybe next time," she sighed, too out of it to try too hard to play along. 
"Maybe, next time," he repeated, letting out a plume of laughter for the both of them. Letting go of her hip, she could feel Harry fiddling with the waist of his pants, fingertips brushing against her sensitive core. "Ready f'me to fuck you? 
Her lashes fluttered in a blink, remembering his promise of giving her more tonight. Peering down at where his hands pushed down the band of his pants, she watched as his cock bobbed against his toned stomach. It was flushed red, head ruddy and slick with a vein vining along the shaft. A pearl of precum clung to the blocked muscles of his abs, where the length hit high under his navel. 
Just the sight of his hard cock had her stomach twining once more. Truthfully, she wouldn't have imagined anything less—not with the way he carried himself. 
"Baby," Harry sang, grabbing her attention, "Are y'ready? Gotta say it—tell me y'want me." 
Whatever he saw on her face was enough to have a dimple denting his cheek, more than satisfied with the desire in her eyes. "I want you," she said, despite the quivering muscles in her thighs, "Please, daddy." 
His features shifted at her words, darkening as his eyes dragged heavily over her body. The way he looked at her was enough to have goosebumps on her skin, lungs squeezing. 
"Think 'm gonna fit?" he crooned, fisting his length as he dragged the crown through her slit. 
Before she could answer, he laid his cock against the small of her stomach, lining it up to show just how far inside he would reach once sinking in. His balls pressed against her clit, setting a jolt up her spine. She could feel him throbbing, matching the rhythm of her heart. 
"We-We'll make it fit." 
His laugh was melodious, lighthearted amongst the atmosphere cultivated between them. He cut himself off when he reared his hips back and nudged the head of his cock against her opening, a soft wet noise slicking through the room. Nothing seemed to be too funny, then. 
Reaching for the wrist to the hand keeping her thighs spread, (Y/N) anchored herself to him with the grip. She felt her walls split open as he pushed through, the flare of his head nudging through the squeezing pulses. A lingering whine sung from her throat, breathless and pitched.
Harry seemingly held his breath as he bottomed out inside her, his base smearing against her clit. He reached the farthest parts of her, crowding in her stomach.  A whine of his name fell from her lips, her head falling back into the mattress with her eyes falling closed. 
Falling over her, Harry rested his forehead on the shelf of her collarbones, a heavy breath fanning across her heated skin. The press of his body atop hers was a comforting weight, keeping her wriggling form steady among the sheets. 
A whispered curse was felt against her skin just before Harry reared his hips back. The slide of his cock through her walls gave a pleasant burn, reminding her just how far she was stretching to fit him in. The slick of her gushing orgasm was more than enough to help him through the pulsing, wet noises sodding from where their bodies joined. 
Just as she adjusted to the slide of his length, Harry thrusted forward once more, keeping her stretched around him. He curated a rhythm, spearing through her in lingering draws. The breath was knocked out of her everytime, matching the heavy breaths Harry panted. 
"So wet for me, baby," he murmured, voice strained, "Fuck—Gonna make y'squirt for me again, yeah? Gonna do it again for daddy?" 
A loud moan filtered from her, reverberating through her chest with her head thrown back. This wasn't going to take long, she was sure. She was already twisted up inside, incredibly sensitive given the kind of pleasure he'd given her just minutes before. Every time he pulled out, leaving just his tip inside, the ridge ground against the spongy spot hidden between her walls. As soon as he sank inside, her clit was pressed against his base. Each touch stole her breath, lungs stilted. 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she frantically agreed, "I—I'm so close—fuck."
 "I know y'are," he crooned, teeth gritted, "'M gonna—Where do y'want me, baby? 
Her answer was immediate, a breathy moan, "My tits."
She could feel the way he twitched inside her, nudging hard against her snug walls. "I can do that for you, baby. Is thi-this what you've thought about—what y'wanted when y'came to m'show tonight?" 
Reaching up and looping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close once more, their mouths resting against one another though there was no energy to be had to turn it into a kiss. "You made me so wet during the show," she admitted, the words sweeping across his mouth, "I wanted you to fuck me so bad." 
His hips bucked harshly against her own. "As soon as I saw you," he started, his voice graveled, "I knew I was taking y'home tonight." 
He caught her in a kiss, messy and off-centered. He plucked his teeth against her bottom lip, the sting running down her spine in a clarifying jolt. She wrapped her legs around his hips, ankles crossing behind his back as he kept her close, disrupting his rhythm. Her toes curled as his thrusts turned into lingering rolls against her, shooting his head deeper. 
This time, the growing spiral in her stomach came on quickly. The knot she was now familiar with built quickly, heavy and tight with every grind of his base against her clit. It was all too much, enough to have her crying into his mouth. 
"Squirt for me, baby," he murmured, coaxing her closer to the edge with every rumble of his voice, "Show daddy how much y'want me." 
She didn't have to think—unable to think—her orgasm came rushing. Though it wasn't quite as messy as the first time, she could still feel the gush between her legs, fighting against the plug of his cock. It was hard and fast, knocking the breath out of her to leave her mouth dropped in a silent gape. 
It wasn't until she was beginning to see the other side that she heard Harry's voice, a string of curses, coming out through gritted teeth, could be heard. She was still high in the clouds when he pulled out, shifting up to his knees on the bed until he was hovering above her. Cracking her eyes open, she could see the same wild look in his eyes that she was sure was in hers, dazed and out of this world. 
Fisting his length, his hand squelched along his shaft for only a handful of pumps until his cum gushed over her. Just as she asked, the ropes landed across her chest. Her skin was already heated enough, but the trails he left over her breasts were that much more. The sight of him working his own cock was enough to have her breathless once more, though her body was too sensitive to feel anything but a jolt through her nerve endings. 
Harry with his head thrown back, moaned out her name and strings of curses. Even these moments sounded like notes, perfect for setting to music. 
Once the world came back into focus, (Y/N) could feel cum drying on her chest, her own wetness sticking to the inside of her thighs. Harry dropped to the mattress beside her, chest heaving and flushed. His eyes were closed though his head was turned to face her, raspberry lips swollen and parted. 
With the limited light from the lamp, he was bathed in buttery warmth. His chest sparkled with a sheen of sweat, droplets having run between the blocks of muscle underneath the inked lines of his tattoos. 
He took his time joining her back in this moment, his eyes shuttered closed as he ran her eyes over his features. If she had a camera with her, she would have had to take a shot of this—the moment pretty enough to end up as an album cover. The haze in her head did little to stop her from reaching out and tracing her fingertips over his face, just barely grazing her skin in glancing touches. 
A blooming smile made its way onto his lips, dimples denting his cheeks.  
"C'mere," he murmured, voice graveled and rocky. 
Despite the drying cum on her skin, Harry welcomed her into his arms, settling her against his chest. Holding her close, he nosed at the top of her head, uncaring about the sweat entwined in the strands of her hair. 
(Y/N) practically melted into his hold. She hadn't expected cuddling was a part of the package tonight. 
Her body grew heavy in his hold, the night's events catching up to her. Even without everything happening in this hotel—from the party to being invited into his suite—she had also been to a concert tonight, flush to the barricade. Her body was spent, even if her head pinged with reminders of just who had made it that way. 
It wasn't until the crackling stopped that she realized that the tape finally ended, needing to be replaced or turned to the other side. She couldn't even be bummed that she missed out on these unreleased tracks. She'd hear them again someday, probably. She wouldn't have this night again. 
She wasn't sure how long they laid with one another, cuddled and messy, before Harry's voice poked through the silence. 
"What are y'doing this summer?" 
A plume of laughter left her lips. Now was the time for small talk? 
"I don't know," she smiled, "Why?" 
Playing with the ends of her hair, Harry's tone was casual as he spoke, "Well, m'next show is this Saturday. Y'coming with me?" 
Her heart lagged. 
"What?" 
It was his turn to let out a breathy laugh. "I want y'to come with me, love. We could do this every night for as long as y'want." 
Before she could think better of it, another question blurted from her lips. "Why?" 
Harry paused. "Y'make me laugh—and cum faster than I should, but don't tell anyone that." 
In the dark of his suite, clothes puddled on the floor and bodies sticky, (Y/N) couldn't wait to pick up a diary just to write out how they laughed together. 
"You're that easy?" 
"I suppose I am, love." 
—————
its been a super long time since I wrote something with the plain intent of writing smut so I hope this turned out well shufshfuhs thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or requests!
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eelnoise · 3 months ago
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one night/all night
law x fem!reader (nsfw!)
week 2 of small kinktober!
>an accidental stumble over some mysterious spores leaves both you and your captain at wits end.
cw: sex pollen, multiple orgasms, dom!law, oral sex (both), begging, semi-public sex an: god damn this one kicked my ass. but i'm finally happy with it. enjoy! wc: 4.7k
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Trafalgar Law is no stranger to the oddities of this world. He's chased curiosity across enough oceans to work the fruits of his labor into a lifelong goal. 
In his pursuit for knowledge, Law bands a crew of his careful choosing together to aid with the task. Made up of dearest friends and closest confidants, the Heart Pirates are deeply loyal to their captain—even if he feels unworthy of it. 
This includes you. Brought aboard for your experience with botany and overall usefulness, you had fit in quickly—going so far as garnering Law's trust with enough relative ease that even he's grown deeply attached to you. 
He brings you in tow for most of his errands on land, not all of which you're privy to, but never once do you pry or question and Law's come to need that comfort more than he'd care to say. 
With his business concluded with his acquaintance, Law exits the small coastal cottage and finds you in the nearby clearing, sitting on your haunches and hovering over what looks like a pair of bright green mushrooms with your sketchbook in your hands.
He isn’t intentionally trying to be quiet as he strides up behind you. However, when he calls out your name, you yelp in sudden surprise, toppling forward and into whatever you had been focused on. The sole of your boot catches on one of the fungi, uprooting it, while the other disintegrates beneath your knee. The remnants hiss ominously, releasing plumes of spores from their caps that are immediately swept away by the breeze, swirling directly into both of your faces.
You try your best to roll out of the way as Law attempts to ease the situation with use of his devil fruit, but he’s too late to get the bulk of the remaining spores. 
Law’s eyes water as the spores hit his face, and he can’t help but cough and sputter. He wipes his eyes and looks at you with a mixture of annoyance and concern. “Would you please stop touching strange plants?” he asks, though his tone is far from polite.
"No. That was all you." you reply with a frown, trying to play cool despite the frustrated look on your face. The spores had caught you off guard too, filling your lungs with a strange tingling sensation that seems to be lingering. “You’re the one sneaking around like a fucking cat.”
Law's eyes narrow at your accusation, but the effect is somewhat dampened by the spores still floating in the air. He can feel them affecting his senses, making everything seem more vivid and intense. He takes a step closer to you, his gaze locked onto yours.
"I was not sneaking," he says, low and controlled. "I simply didn't want to disturb you while you were so focused on your work. But now that I see the mess you've made, I can't help but wonder if you're even capable of handling a simple task without causing chaos."
You roll your eyes at him and rise to your feet, brushing the dirt off your sketchpad and tucking it into your pack before doing the same with your boiler suit. "I was trying to document enough of it for research back on the sub, which is, you know, my job."
Law shakes his head and pinches his nose with a sigh. "Doesn't matter. Now let’s go; we don’t have much daylight left." He turns on his heel and starts walking, clearly expecting you to follow.
As you fall into step beside him, Law can't help but notice the way his attention seems to be constantly drawn to you. Your movements are slightly more exaggerated, your breathing a bit heavier than usual. He tries to focus on the path ahead, but finds his gaze constantly drawn to your form.
"What exactly were you hoping to learn from those mushrooms?" he asks, more to distract himself than out of genuine curiosity. "I thought your expertise was more in... practical plants."
He can feel the heat of your body next to his, the scent of your skin mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. It's intoxicating and though he knows he should just take the lead—to put you out of sight even if temporarily—but he can't bring himself to stray too far from you.
Part of you wants to argue—to explain just how and why he’s wrong, and how his position as your captain doesn’t excuse the sheer audacity of his words. Yet you sigh in defeat; it simply isn’t worth it.
"To be fair, they may very well have been 'practical,'" you begin, wiping the uncomfortable sweat from your brow. "The plan was to sketch it, take some notes, and look into my books back on in my room for more information."
"Plus, I was bored. You were taking a while, you know?" You look up at him, and the way he’s already looking back down at you makes the heat rise in your neck.
Law's eyes flicker to your face, taking in the flushed cheeks and the quick breaths. "Boredom is no excuse for recklessness," he mutters, his tone a little rougher than intended.
The dusty road widens into the overgrown remnants of what was once this island's capital. Charred ruins of stone and wood mark the past, leaving behind winding streets of crumbling buildings covered in ash and soot, the smell of smoke lingering in the dry air.
Acres of scarred, lifeless land remain forever trapped in its moment of doom. It’s a bleak sight—and that’s putting it lightly.
Law leads the way down the debris-strewn street. He keeps his senses on high alert, scanning the dilapidated buildings for any signs of movement or danger, but the heat is oppressive, and it only adds to the growing tension coiling in his gut.
Silence falls between you, and Law’s mind begins to wander. His fist clenches tightly around the brim of his hat, both troubled and irritated. Those spores have surely fucked with him, and now he’s faced with the circumstance of it being you that fate has left him in this condition with.
He just had to keep you instead of allowing you to pair off with Ikkaku. Didn’t he? He could have He could have—should have—gone it alone, but this time, his damn pride may finally be his fall.
Though he can’t deny the effect it’s having on him—the way his heart races and how his body responds to your closeness. He’s always been attracted to you, convinced he didn’t have the time or reason to piece it all together, but this feels... different.
Law doesn't know if he's angry at himself or if he's frustrated with you—accident or not, those spores are doing something to him. There's no other way to explain the artificial intensity pumping through his veins.
The grip on his sword tightens, the hilt digging into his palm as he struggles to focus on the weight of his duty instead of the intoxicating allure of the way you look, the scent that envelops him, and the mesmerizing way your body moves beside him, each glance a reminder of the reckless desire brewing within.
Meanwhile your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, most of them incoherent and centered around the growing desire that seems to be tangling in your belly.
Sweat trickles down your neck, and your skin feels like it’s tingling. What the fuck is this heat? 
Your first instinct is to blame the spores, for while yearning for your captain is nothing new, this longing feels heightened, almost overwhelming, as if the very air around you has stoked a smoldering desire deep inside.
You’ve encountered your share of strange plant life, but a mycelium with enough substance to trigger this much of a response from a fully grown person? Nearly impossible.
But what the hell do you know?
Trying to push away your thoughts, you force your steps to match the rhythm of Law’s. You can feel his gaze, acutely aware of how he leans in occasionally to avoid brushing against you. The tension between you is palpable, and it's making you feel a little disoriented.
You’re unsure how much longer you can maintain the charade of feigned composure. Every step feels heavy, and every breath is shallow and labored. The heat of the sun is nothing compared to the fire building inside you, threatening to consume you whole.
You lose count of Law’s footsteps as you try to cool off by fanning yourself, pulling your hair up, and drinking your fair share of water from the bottle you carry in your pack—but nothing seems to help. Something’s gotta give, or you’re going to melt.
Without a shred of a second thought, you unzip the heavy suit and slide your arms out of the sleeves, tying them around your waist. You sigh in relief as the breeze flows over your arms and through the thin fabric of your tank top, but it does little to truly soothe the lingering heat between your thighs.
Law's breath catches in his throat as he hears the sound of your zipper. He tries to keep his eyes forward, but his gaze is drawn to your form like a magnet. The sight of your exposed skin, glistening with sweat in the fading sunlight, sends a bolt of pure lust straight to his core.
He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. The heat that had been building inside him reaches a new level, and he can feel his cock straining against the confines of his pants.
Trafalgar Law's eyes rake over you, taking in the sight of your flushed skin and the way your chest rises and falls with your heavy breaths. The emphasis of his tone iis rough as he asks, "How do you feel?"
It's a loaded question, one that he hopes will reveal just how much those spores have affected you. He's afraid to know the answer, but he can't help but want to hear it.
Your voice wavers slightly as you try to maintain a facade of calm. "I... I'm not sure," you admit, your eyes unable to break away from his intense gaze. "Hot. Really hot."
You take a step closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The air between you feels charged, electric. "Are you okay?" you ask him in a soft whisper.
Law's eyes widen at your question, surprised by your boldness. He hadn't expected you to be so direct, so forthcoming about what you were feeling. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you until your bodies are almost touching.
Law's fist clenches at his side, knuckles turning white. He's not okay. He's so far from okay it's laughable. But he can't tell you that. He can't tell you about how he's been left him in a state of constant arousal, that every nerve ending in his body is screaming for attention, for relief. 
For you.
"I’m fine," he replies through gritted teeth, the lie lingering in the air between you. He can smell you now; the scent of your sweat is intoxicating, pulling him further into disorientation.
"You don't look fine. Maybe I can–" You trail off, your eyes growing into a half-lidded daze as you trail down his body, taking a long look at the way his muscles ripple in his arms before snapping back up to his face with an awkward cough that doesn't really hide anything.
Your eyes meet Law's, and the intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine. You see the desire burning in his eyes, mirroring the heat coursing through your veins.
You take another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. Your hand reaches out, fingers trembling slightly as they brush against his chest. "Maybe I can help," you whisper, barely audible over the sound of his racing pulse.
He feels his resolve crumbling with your touch, your sultry tone and hungry gaze sending shivers down his spine. He wants to push you away, to maintain his composure, but his body betrays him.
"You don't understand," he grunts, tilting his face away from you. But even as he speaks, his hands are moving of their own accord, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. "I can't... I shouldn't..."
This isn’t how he wanted this to go.
"Law," your voice calling his name eases the rumble in his head, instantly clearing the chaos of his relentless thoughts. "I want to help you. Anything..."
Law's pupils dilate at your words as something snaps within him, crashing his lips against yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hands pillow the impact as you're shoved against the cast-off remains of a building built from stone. He nips at your bottom lip, urging you to open for him, and when you do, he plunges his tongue into your mouth, claiming you with a passion that steals the breath from your lungs.
Law's grip on your hips tightens, pulling you closer until you can feel the hard length of his cock pressed against your belly. The heat between you is palpable, as is the need that rolls off him in waves.
"Tell me you want this," he growls into you, lips barely breaking contact with yours. "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."
Your breathing hitches as his demand echoes in your ears. You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of giving in. But then, you look deep into his eyes, seeing the hunger reflected in your own.
"Yes," you whisper,  trembling with desire. "I want this. I need you, Captain."
Law's eyes flash with triumph, and he wastes no time in responding to your plea. His hands move to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he wraps your legs around his waist. He pins you against the stone wall, his hips grinding against yours in a rhythm that's both torturous and exhilarating.
His hands roam your body, caressing your curves as if he's memorizing every inch of you. He breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. "Taste so good," he murmurs, the husky rasp of his voice tickling your flesh.
Law's hands make short work of your clothing, peeling at the fabric of your shirt and tugging it your shoulders leaving you bare chested before him. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his attention roving over your body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle with anticipation.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, his calloused fingers tracing the curve of your breast, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hip. "Perfect."
He lowers his head, taking your nipple into his mouth and suckling greedily. His teeth graze the sensitive surface, sending jolts of lightning through your veins.
You gasp at the sensation, arching into his touch. Your  hands find their way into his hair, knocking his hat off in the process of tangling your fingers in the dark, raven strands as you write and shiver under his touch.
"Law," you moan, your words breathy and filled with yearning. "Please..."
You're not sure what you're begging for, but you know you need more. You need him. All of him.
He obliges you with a final, harsher nibble to your hardened bud before pulling away to trail his lips down your torso. Long fingers slide from your hips to unzip and shuffle the remainder of the suit down over your legs to fall in a heap around your ankles.
Law’s breath hovers over your panties, inches away from where you’re dying for contact.
“Move these.” He commands. "Show me."
Your body thrums with want, his imposing tone weakening you into desire borne of flame. Your  hands tremble as you hook your fingers into the front waistband of your panties and slowly slides to the side. The cool air hits your heated skin, making you shiver. 
Law’s eyes lock onto your exposed sex, his gaze burning into you. He doesn’t hesitate, diving in to taste you, his tongue flicking out to tease at your clit. You whimper at the sensation, your body arching up off the wall in response.
He buries his face between your thighs, licking and sucking, his fingers gripping your hips to hold you steady while his tongue works its magic. You can feel the intensity building within you, every single one of your senses feels like they're working overdrive.
Law's tongue swirls around your clit, alternating between flicking and sucking, as his fingers delve into your wet heat. He groans against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body.
His fingers twist inside you, stroking along your inner walls and hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.
Law's skilled tongue and fingers work in perfect harmony, driving you further and further towards the edge. You can feel the pressure building, the need to release coiling tighter and tighter within you.
"Captain," you moan, your wails a broken plea. "Please... please, I need..."
Law doesn't let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive flesh as you ride out your orgasm. He relishes in the taste of you, in the way your body shudders against him, and the sounds of your pleasure. You cry out, the orgasm ripping through you, your body shuddering and trembling as waves of pleasure crash through you.
As your trembling subsides, he stands, his eyes dark with lust and his lips glistening with your juices. "On your knees," he utters, his tone low and gravelly, resonating with an intensity that captivates.
You comply, quickly discarding your shoes and the remainder of your clothing onto the dusty ground below and sink to your knees. You sit patiently as you look up at him through your lashes and watch as he wastes no time in freeing himself from the confines of his jeans, his cock springing forth, hard and ready.
"Suck."
He doesn't give you any more instructions, simply guides your head forward, positioning his cock at your lips. You open your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, and begin to suck.
Musky and slightly salty—you relish in his taste, and as he begins to guide your motions your mouth is filled full again and again, the tip of his length rutting so far down your throat that your eyes begin to water. 
But you love it. Fuck, you love it.
Law groans, his head falling back as he savors the feeling of your mouth around him. He tangles his fingers in your hair, using it as leverage to control the pace, pushing deeper with each thrust.
"Fuck, just like that," he growls, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock into your throat.
You can feel him growing harder, his cock throbbing against your tongue as he nears his release. His grip on your hair tightens, and he holds you in place as he begins to fuck your face in earnest, chasing his pleasure.
You gag with each powerful thrust as spit and drool drench along his cock.
Law's eyes roll back in his head, a low moan escaping his lips as he feels your throat constrict around him. He can feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with each thrust.
Law's grip on your hair tightens as he nears the edge, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he hisses, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
Law's orgasm rips through him, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your mouth. You choke and gag around his cock, some of his cum escaping from your nose as he holds you in place.
He grunts, his grip on your hair loosening as the last of his seed spills into you. "Fuck, that's it," he pants, his cock still twitching as he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you to cough and gasp for air.
Law takes a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he looks down at you. "Stand up," he commands.
As you rise to your feet, he takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your naked form. "Turn around," he orders, "ass out." Law's hands grip your hips as he positions you, his fingers digging into your skin. "Spread your legs," he orders.
You comply, bracing yourself against the wall as you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He teases you, rubbing the tip up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices.
"Beg for it," he demands, his breath hot against your ear. "Beg me to fuck you."
"Please, Captain," you whimper, your body aching for him. "Please, please fuck me. I need your cock or I'm gonna go fucking crazy. "
Law's control snaps at your desperate plea. With a primal grunt, he thrusts into you, filling you in one swift motion. The feeling of his thick cock stretching you open is overwhelming, and you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 
He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with a force that rocks your body against the wall. Your hands scrabble for purchase, nails digging into the stone as he fucks you with wild abandon.
Law's hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he rails into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the ruins, punctuated by your moans and his grunts of exertion.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. "Take it, take my cock."
His fingers find your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation sends you hurtling towards another climax, your body tensing as the pressure builds within you.
With a loud cry unto the heavens, you gush around his cock, clenching as if milking him for everything he's got to give.
And fuck he wants to give you his all. Wants to empty himself into you over and over again until the only word you know is his name.
Law's hips buck, driving into you as you orgasm, his fingers digging into your flesh as he rides out your climax. The sound of your name on your lips is enough to send him over the edge, his body tensing as he releases inside you, his seed filling you up.
He holds you there, still buried deep within you, his breathing heavy as he regains control. "Mine," he breathes, his tone thick with possession.
But he doesn't stop, he can't stop indulging in you. For so long has he wanted this— wanted you— and some of him thanks fate for this, admittedly large and unexpected push into coming around to his feelings. 
His pace only slows as he tilts your head backward to catch your lips in a kiss.
Law's lips move against yours, the kiss deep and possessive. He swallows your moans, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you.
His hands roam your body, caressing your curves, mapping out every inch of you. He breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.
"Again," he orders, his hips never ceasing their relentless pace. "Come for me again."
His fingers find your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is too much, the edges of your vision begin to blur as you can feel another wave of delirium crash over you.
Law pulls orgasm after orgasm from your well loved, exhausted form. He thinks himself insatiable— that he will never have his fill of you. Over and over does the rhythm of his motions continue, his balls slapping against your clit in a tangle that rivals two animals in heat.
The relentless pursuit of your pleasure is unyielding. You cry out his name with each orgasm, your body quivering and shaking as he brings you to the edge time and time again.
His own lust grows with each climax you offer, the spores heightening the intensity of the experience. He's a beast, unyielding and unrelenting, his focus solely on claiming your body as his own.
Finally, as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the ruins in a warm glow, Law's orgasms become fewer and farther between. Eventually, he collapses against your back in an exhausted huff.
Law's body slumps against yours, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He nuzzles into your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he places soft kisses along your neck and shoulder.
"Fuck, that was incredible," he murmurs, voice hoarse from exertion. "Felt amazing."
He pulls out of you slowly, his cock slipping from your well-used body. You both wince at the sudden emptiness, but the sensation is quickly replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction.
Law turns you around, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. "You're amazing," he says, and you can tell he’s sincere.
He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It's a stark contrast to the frenzied passion you've experienced throughout the day, but no less intense.
When he pulls away, you're both breathless. "Let's get cleaned up and head back to the sub," he suggests, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. 
Law carefully assists you with your scattered clothing, his hands move with a gentle touch, helping you dress. His fingers linger on your skin, stealing soft caresses as he does.
Once you're both clothed and covered, he takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "Ready?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with a softness you don't recognize.
You give him a nod and he pulls you close, slipping his hand into yours as the two of you begin to walk together out of the rubble and back into the direction of civilization. 
"What about those ruins? Weren't we looking for something?" You ask curiously, craning your neck to peer up at him with a raised brow.
"We'll come back for the ruins," Law says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "For now, I think the both of us need some rest." 
"But aren't you worried about questions from the others? We aren't exactly showing up looking innocent, you know."
He grins down at you, a warm sparkle in his eye. "Don't worry, I can teleport us straight into my cabin from outside the sub. That way, you won't have to face the crew in such disarray."
You know he's honest, and so you let yourself relax and lean into his shoulder. The closeness is nice, and with the heightened exhilaration finally ebbing away it feels nice. 
It feels real.
When Law decides you’re close enough to the coast, the world around you shifts in an instant, and suddenly you’re enveloped in the cozy warmth of his cabin aboard the Polar Tang.
You accept his invitation to use his shower, and your heart leaps in your chest when he slips in behind you to wrap his long arms around your waist. The hot water cascades over your bodies, washing away the sweat and dirt from your day of exploration.
Law takes his time, his hands roaming your body as he cleans you. It's a tender gesture, a stark contrast to the frenzied passion from earlier.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face. "I know today was... intense."
You nod, leaning into his touch. "I'm more than okay," you murmur, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'm happy."
Law smiles, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he gazes into your eyes. "Me too," he whispers, before leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss.
He takes his time, savoring the feel of your mouth against his, the water cascading over your entwined bodies. When he finally pulls away, you're both breathless, your hearts racing in sync.
That night, you curl up in his bed, snuggled against his chest. A calmness fills the room, wrapping you in a soothing aura. Your captain is sound asleep, no doubt exhausted from the day’s events, and while uncertainty lingers about what comes next now that the spores are out of your system, that’s a worry for another day; for now, you find solace in his embrace.
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hiiikiko · 3 months ago
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𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖 𝕨. 𝕩 𝕘𝕠𝕥𝕙!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
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tlou masterlist
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
ellie williams x goth!reader headcanons
[a/n] : thought this would be cute :0
tw: uhhhhh frat boys??
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
♱ ellie was a little nervous to approach you at first, not because you looked ‘scary,’ but because you were just so cool
♱ one day you’re wearing a cure tshirt, ellie is so excited when she sees this because 1) it’s a band she knows and 2) this is an opportunity to talk to you!
♱ she stutters a lot but tries her best to play it cool, even though her hands are shaky and she messes up a couple words
♱ ellie’s internally kicking herself for being such a good but then you laugh and she swears it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever heard
♱ from that day on, ellie sits by you everyday and tries her absolute best to make you laugh
♱ eventually she learns more about your style and the goth subculture as a whole, even going the extra mile to listen to a few of your favourite bands (and learn how to play their songs on her guitar)
♱ one day you make her a playlist of your favourite bands and she practically swoons at the gesture
♱ when you and ellie start dating, she constantly makes jokes about “my goth gf”
♱ she loves loves loves showing you off and she’s your personal photographer
♱ she comments under all of your posts
♱ when she notices people looking at you funny or pointing, she’ll defend your honour by throwing a few snarky comments their way or confronting them head on
♱ she loves when you offer to do her makeup because she feels like some hero from one of her comics
♱ when you do her eyeliner, you sit on her lap because it’s the best way to keep her from moving, ellie will rest her hands on your hips, her thumbs making little circles, as she talks about what she read earlier
♱ whenever you do your makeup, she’ll sit next to you and watch or talk about whatever video game, comic book, or show she recently got into, she’ll even help you with your hair or putting on corsets
♱ speaking of corsets, she absolutely ADORES you in them, almost going feral when she sees you in one (she also loves lacing them up because it’s just an excuse to have her hands on you)
♱ getting ready for dates takes a little bit longer because you want to look nice for your girlfriend even if she’s going to be wearing her favourite pair of blue jeans and canvas sneakers (i love the overdressed , underdressed dynamic sm lol) so you can take a few hours to be ready but ellie doesn’t mind at all because she knows how much you love your aesthetic and she’s okay with waiting! who cares if you miss your reservation? it’ll be worth it
♱ ellie hates when those frat guys who’s whole personality is “i want a goth gf” (even though she reposts the same memes) approach you, she gets all defensive and extra touchy, putting her hands around your waist, narrowing her eyes at them, and laying kisses on your neck
♱ ellie is always buying you things that she thinks would fit your whole goth aesthetic, little black cat or bat plushies, brining over vinyl from goth bands you like, or just buying you a million packs of eyeliner
♱ when you first take ellie to a goth nightclub, she’s nervous and clinging to you the whole night but once you get a few drinks in her, she’ll be all over you and trying to get you back on the dance floor
♱ but the thing you love most about ellie is that she doesn’t fetishize you for your aesthetic, she treats you the same way even if you’re wearing sweatpants and one of her tshirts
♱ (bonus: she also loves when you wear platforms and are taller than her, she secretly wants to be dommed by you but would never admit it)
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
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m-ilkiee · 1 month ago
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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils
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series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, smut (character x character), dubcon, noncon, DARK IMPULSE MIKEY, depressive thoughts, victim blaming, sucidial ideation, religious guilt & discussion (very brief), gaslighting, power imbalance, manipulation, abuse (domestic, verbal, sexual, finanical), love bombing, violence (physical, mental, sexual), slut shaming, peer pressure, dry humping, attempted rape, nonconsensual filming.
r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)
wc: 13.3k
[masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 4] [taglist]
a/n: the reason why this chapter didn't come out earlier was because I was sick and busy with school. Anyways comments, reblogs and anonymous asks are welcomed.
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“DON’T you want to know what me and (name) talked about?”
Mikey doesn’t look away from the burger he’s eating, but he hears Izana loud and clear. The cool morning breeze hits his skin, his golden hair flying in the wind as the two men sit on the ledge of Toman’s balcony, legs dangling from the porch. On a normal day, Mikey wouldn’t be awake by this time, opting to catch some extra hours of sleep until he is forced to go to class. But with the possibility of you saying something to Emma about the incident at the car and Izana going ahead to fix it, he was too restless to go to bed.
He forgot that you could still tell someone, even with your promise. You had no reason to honor it, especially with how he treated you badly, So to get the voice message from Izana with you saying you will keep quiet, was surprising.
“You already told me she’d shut up about the whole thing.” Mikey murmurs, gulping down the last part of the food. “I don’t care about her beyond that.”
A chuckle escapes Izana’s lips as the tanned man takes out a cigarette pack from his pocket. He picks one out with his teeth, then stretches the pack to Mikey. Mikey shakes his head no, at least not now that he just ate a really nice burger and Izana merely shrugs, pushing it back into his pocket, before taking out his lighter. They sit in silence as the lighter flickers on, and Izana brings it to his lips, before shutting it off.
Mikey stares ahead of the weather as Izana smokes, the sun barely peeking out of the dense clouds surrounding it, meaning it was probably going to be a rainy day. He remembers his teenage years, whenever it was rainy and Shin had to go to work, leaving Izana in charge, the three of them would have rainy days, doing things like building large pillow forts, playing video games or a makeshift band with Izana on the guitar, Emma with her drumset she barely ever used and him on the vocals. He and Izana always got along, they were having too much fun to even think about fighting, and it made Emma happy too.
Eventually, as they grew older, rainy days were spent apart, with Izana either busy with work or smoking in his room and him busy with his own gang, in his own world.
And Emma; they left her all alone. Not like they had a choice, they just couldn’t bring themselves to drag her into the lifestyle they were knee deep in or endanger her by bringing her out with them. In hindsight, they were just trying to protect her, but in a way, Mikey knows she resents them for isolating her.
You were her act of defiance against their strict rules. She could hide it with her words that she was fine with her upbringing, but her actions speak even louder for herself. Mikey just wished she defied him in a better way than being friends with someone outside the Sano approved group.
Silence continues between the two of them as they do their own thing, watching the sun attempt to peek out of the dense clouds. Sometimes, Mikey feels like the sun, constantly competing with the cloud of darkness hovering above his head, waiting for his carefully crafted mask to slip just a little bit, so that it can consume him and leave him with nothing.
It already happened once with you in that car and he knows that it cannot happen again.
What happened was a mishap. Something he knows he shouldn’t do again, yet he doesn’t understand what exactly he did wrong.
It confused him to no end. Was it that you felt guilty because your religion said premarital sex is wrong? Or maybe he was too aggressive with you, pinning you down until you couldn’t move? It wasn’t like he had a choice because you kept on fighting him every step of the way.
He looks at his brother peacefully smoking, thinking about the earlier proposal he had offered. Come to think of it, what could you have told Izana that could have made him ask Mikey if he wanted to know?
“So, why did you actually do it?”
Izana’s hoarse voice startled the younger man, nearly making him jump out of his skin. Once he got his bearings, he responded with another question, confusion laced in his tone. “Do what?”
“The car incident. Like, really of all the girls, why her?”
Oh that. “She kept rubbing her thighs together any time I said something, and I thought she wanted relief.” He shrugged, but didn't look Izana in the eye. “She was asking for it-”
“You’re lying.”
Mikey goes silent. Izana must have finally figured out that he wasn’t being completely honest, he was way too observant when it came to others, especially his siblings. “I couldn’t stop myself,” he sighed out, finally facing the reality of the situation. “It was like everything she said or did seemed to offend me.”
“Is that so?”
“Well,” Mikey paused for a moment, thinking about that day. He was angry, but there was always something gnawing at the back of his mind whenever he saw you. The voices in his head made it difficult to think rationally and encouraged more impulsive actions, and that was truly the origin of the actions that happened in the end. “I also really just wanted to know how sleeping with her would feel.”
“Fool.”
“Excuse me?”
The white haired man doesn’t answer his question immediately, tossing the finished cigarette to the ground first, before pushing himself upright. “You heard me clearly. You’re a big fucking moron.” His voice is low and strained, fury lurking beneath.
Izana’s words struck a nerve, causing Mikey to stand up, dark eyes glaring right back at his brother. He thought Izana was on the same side as him in hating you, so why was he suddenly insulting him? “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re blaming me and taking her side.”
“I AM blaming you.” He spits out, venomously towards Mikey now, eyes burning with anger. “Because of you thinking with your dick, you risked our relationship with our sister”
“So was I supposed to tell my dark impulses to go on vacation that day? It wasn’t entirely MY fault-”
“You drove her to the most secluded space in school. Do I look stupid enough to buy that excuse?”
Oh this was rich coming from Izana. “Are you insinuating I planned to rape her?” Mikey asked incredulously, not believing his ears. “I met her on the road and she asked for privacy. I didn’t intend to do anything, I’m not you.”
“You don’t get a moral high ground right now.” Izana spits back at Mikey, making the blond clench his jaw.  “You’re just as bad as me and you know it.”
“She can go to class and move the fuck on from whatever happened. If it were you in that fucking car, she’d be in a hospital-”
“And yet I went to clean up the mess you made without taking out my dick, you ungrateful little asshole.” Izana hissed back.
“Don’t call me little-”
“You know what I hate about you, Mikey? You’re so self-centered and self-absorbed that you don’t think about how your actions affect everyone else. You just want things to go your way and you can’t take no for an answer.” Izana laughs coldly. Mikey’s jaw clenched tightly, but stays silent as Izana continues to tease him. “Then again she’s the idiot who fell in love with you, so she better get used to that nasty habit of yours.”
‘What?’
Mikey feels like an ice bucket of water had been thrown on him. His mouth slowly hangs open, trying to process what he just heard right now.
“Don’t fuck with me-”
There’s no way that can be real. It had to be a lie or some kind of sick joke that Izana came up with, but he’s not laughing or smirking. Instead, he lights another cigarette, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. “Look” he said, blowing out a loud plume of smoke. “It was you who said we have to befriend that bitch. I’m guessing it’s because you want to get your dick wet and I don’t care. But if we’re going to pull it off and trap her, you’re going to do all the heavy lifting.”
“I’m not interested-”
“Don’t give me that bullshit Manjiro.” Mikey suddenly flinched at Izana’s harsh tone, the use of his government name sobering him up. “I know that you want to sleep with her. But you’re not going to just go in guns blazing. You’re going to convince Emma you like her by doing some grand gesture so that (name) feels like she can’t say no to you.”
Mikey stays silent, mulling over his brother’s suggestion. Izana can see right through him, even to his deepest desires and he knows it’s true. He’s attracted to your body and wants you.
“Okay fine.” He finally gives in. “But I don’t believe she loves me. She probably said that because you scared her.”
“Then you won’t be opposed to making a bet, right?”
Mikey smiles widely. He just wants to knock down Izana by a few pegs to prove him wrong.
“Fine.”
   “NGH, K-ken -more please-”
There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.
It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.
Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises.
She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night. Whatever it was, Draken was extra clingy this morning and he managed to convince her to let him eat her out for good luck.
Not like she’s complaining, for a change, she’d like to be the one on the receiving end.
Her legs were spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, sending pleasurable tingles throughout her entire body. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.
She let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.
“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “- right there, k-keep g-going ah”
Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her affiliations. She didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her.
She didn’t have to think about you.
You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.
‘Shit. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this now when Draken’s here. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well. 
It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.
Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the sight.
‘F-fuck it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want her so bad shit. I-i want her so bad-’'
Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.
She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue, secretly wishing yours was on it too.
The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much.
You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.
Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.
She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken rested his large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”
She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”
He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”
“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone.
“Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”
“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”
“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, still laying on their bed to catch their breaths as Emma’s thoughts began to drift back to you. It has been some months since she started to see you in that way. She didn’t know how she developed these feelings nor could she pinpoint the day they started. It doesn’t surprise her though, you were just her type; soft-spoken, genuinely kind and so innocent, the kind of person she’d want to shield from the world forever. And in terms of looks, god you were gorgeous in her eyes, like a painting that the artist took his time to create.
It wasn’t like she didn’t try to bury her feelings for you. She figured you liked Mikey when she saw the stars in your eyes any time you looked at him and tried her best to set you both up, only for her plan to slap you in the face when Mikey treated you like dog shit. She switched gears to Izana but that even went so much worse that she had to step in.
Emma doesn’t understand why they hated you. You had done nothing but respected them, no matter how much they both hurt you. How could anyone hate you really? You were just so fragile, so quiet and you avoided trouble, so why do her brother’s keep insisting you’re no good for her?
“What’s on your mind?”
Draken’s quiet voice brought her back to reality, and she let out a quiet sigh, rolling her body to face him. “Just thinking about (name).” she mumbled, her eyes meeting his. “And how I royally fucked up by trying too hard to introduce her to Mikey and Izana.”
He hums in response, his brows furrowed together. “Mmh.” He shifts his body a bit to reach out his hand, stroking her face. “Mikey’s so cruel to the poor girl. If I were her, I’d hate his guts by now. Izana too.”
“I don’t think she’s capable of hating anyone.” Emma sighs softly for the umpteenth time, leaning into his touch. You’re not the type of person who can hate someone for treating you badly, no matter what. You’re so insistent on forgiveness, even though you’re in so much mental anguish that it baffles Emma. “The other day after my fight with Izana, she insisted I should talk to my brothers and forgive them, that she understands where they’re coming from. I think…” Emma pauses. “... it’s because she likes Mikey a lot, y'know. That’s why she’s so insistent on forgiving him.”
Draken’s expression darkens at the statement, his hand stopping mid-stroke. The once calm atmosphere basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking had turned ice cold, tension hanging in the air and it sort of scared Emma.
“Babe?”
Whatever it was that had crossed Draken’s mind quickly changed on hearing her frightened voice. He quickly shifted back to his warm gaze, stroking her hair again. “I’m sorry. I was just…” he trails off, a sigh escaping his lips as he recomposes himself. “There’s something I actually want to tell you-”
Draken’s words cut off as her alarm went off. Emma groaned outwardly, realizing that it was already time for her to start getting dressed for her important test. Reluctant, the blonde rolled off the bed nude and walked towards the bathroom.
“So sorry Ken.” She murmured, opening the door to the bathroom. “But I’ve got to go to class soon. Plus, I’m picking up (name) since she doesn’t have a ride there and I don’t want her to spend the little money she has on a bus fare. You can tell me later right?”
Emma doesn’t see the despair on Draken’s face. “Yeah. I’ll call you after class.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
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  A LONG time ago, you dreamed of freedom.
You wanted to do something with your life other than the carefully crafted plans your parents had for you. You were told women belonged in the kitchen, that they should always be hairless, stand behind their husbands, and seen but not heard. That life felt like prison; cold and unloving, with nothing else to do. Your father wouldn’t even let your mother have female friends, because it would encourage gossiping and his wife should never be involved with gossip.
Despite your mother being on the more introverted side, you could still see the terrible loneliness in her eyes. She was like a bird in a cage, forced to sing for people when they have guests, serving them with a smile, but not too bright, otherwise your father would have an issue with her.
You didn’t want to become like your mother, so you ran right into another cage that you can’t see yourself getting out of.
You stare at yourself in the toilet mirror as the faucet runs, your heart dropping at how terrible and haggard you look right now. Not only did you have to deal with Izana’s subtle threat hanging over your head, but the test you had written the day after was also terrible, as if you’d forgotten everything you had studied for. You still have no luck in finding a job and those nightmares of Mikey continue to plague you.
Within a span of a few weeks, your life had been thrown into chaos. You miss the days where you were worried about getting the approval of Mikey and Izana, where you didn’t know the uglier sides of them and how far they would be willing to go to keep you quiet. 
“I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I should have stayed back and dealt with it.” Your voice is low, strained from all the crying you’ve done since you excused yourself from your hangout with Emma.
Emma.
You can’t even tell your best friend all your heartaches. Even ignoring what Izana said, just seeing her chat about her date with Draken, a smile plastered all over her face, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You’re no longer confident that she would stand up for you, seeing how Izana was so convincing that you believed everything he said about the entire situation being your fault.
‘I need to face reality. I’m just someone she met a few months ago and those are her brothers she’s lived with for years. Why would she believe me over them?’
You were told that God doesn’t give you burdens He knows you cannot bear, but this one might be too heavy for you to carry.
Reaching for the faucet, you hastily splashed water on your face, trying to calm yourself down. Worse things have happened to you, worse things will happen to you and this is just one of them. You can bear the pain, the shame of letting that happen to you, so long as you never let it repeat itself again.
“I’ll stay away from them.” You say out loud, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It’s a promise; you know it’s the only way to get them off your back. If you make sure Emma spends less time with you and more with them, they’ll leave you alone. “I won’t be a bother or attend any of their parties or force myself into their friend groups. I’ll just be Emma's friend and that’s it.”
A sigh escapes your lips as you stare in the mirror again. Easier said than done.
You touch up your face a little, putting on your lip balm and redoing your hair. You force a smile onto your face, adjusting your blue dress and walk out of the bathroom with false confidence that could kill a sensible man. You held your head up high as you made your way back to the canteen; life gets harder on a daily basis, but at least you have a chance at making things easier for yourself.
‘Avoid the brothers, find a job, study harder.’ You repeat to yourself as you make your way back to the canteen where Emma was waiting for you. You still long for freedom to live a life you chose for yourself and you won’t let anyone ruin that for you. It’s merely a stumbling block that you’ll get over. In ten years time, you’ll forget about your terrible childhood, you’ll forget what Mikey did to you and how Izana made you feel like everything was all your fault.
Someday, you’ll live your dreams that seem so far away.
‘I’ll live in a house that I love, I’ll have a job and maybe a pet. I’ll have more friends and I’ll be ha-’
Your thoughts die the second they come in your line of sight.
Mikey sits on one side of Emma, making a pouty face while she laughs at him. Izana sits on the other side with his cheek resting on his hand, a humorous smirk plastered on his face. To everyone else, it looks like a family having a fun time, bonding and laughing together, but to you, it's a mocking gesture, reminding you of your place in Emma’s life and how much worth you have. That they can do what they like and not feel the slightest bit of guilt while you spend days crying and washing out the dirt off your body until your skin feels raw.
Mikey is the first person to notice you, dark eyes looking into yours and for a brief moment he stares blankly at your frozen figure standing a few feet away, before switching to a more sincere look.
“Oh uh, (name),” the way your name rolls off his tongue makes you anxious. It’s so calm and reserved, like you’re old friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Like he wasn’t the same man that forced himself on you in his car. “We've been waiting for you. You spent a lot of time in the bathroom, are you still sick?”
If you weren’t feeling sick before, you do now. He sounds genuinely worried and if you were as clueless as Emma, you would have believed he was. The others turn their attention towards you and you feel even more nauseous when Izana gives you a worried frown, yet his eyes are full of mirth.
He finds this entire situation entertaining.
Everything inside you wants to scream at them, tell them to just stop whatever they are trying to do, but all you do is stand and stare at them blankly.
“You’re shaking. Come on, sit down, before you fall.” Emma teases, thinking that you’re shaking because you were nervous and not angry. “Geez guys, look at what being mean to her has done. She’s scared of you guys! You better hope she accepts your apology.”
An apology. They were here to give you a fake apology. After everything they had done to you, they had the audacity to come here to offer you an apology they didn’t even mean, just to get in Emma’s good graces again, and she bought every single bit of it.
“We’re really sorry for being mean to you.” Izana chimes in a remorseful tone, but he doesn’t mean it, not even the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have called you a whore or made fun of you like that.”
They could have done this earlier. Right after the party. You wouldn’t have minded the fake apology as long as Emma was happy and you all could be cordial with each other. But they chose to ruin your life first, before going ahead to apologize, as if it would mean anything to you. As if it would undo the damage they have caused.
“I was a jerk.” Mikey says in a very apologetic tone that could have anyone else fooled. “All these months, I assumed you were coming between us and I let jealousy push me to do things I never meant to. Let’s put the past behind us and be friends.”
‘Be friends?’
Frustration bubbles up at the bottom of your chest, your heart pounding loudly against your chest as you look at the two men who made your life a living hell. All this time, you were planning on ignoring them and moving on with your life like nothing happened but they just won’t do the same, despite them hating you. Was this just to torment you until you left Emma permanently?
Why are they doing this to you?
Right now, you want to tell them no, you don’t want to ever be friends with them, you can forgive them but you want nothing to do with them. But everyone else in the cafeteria is staring, expectantly waiting for your answer. You know if you say anything now, your life will be ruined. No one in this cafeteria will be on your side, either out of fear of the Sano family connection or loyalty to them.
Yet again, you’ve lost.
Pushing down your anger and frustration to the bottom of your heart, you decide it is best to accept their apology publicly and keep your sentiments to yourself, a forced smile on your lips. “I-it’s alright. I know everything you’ve done is all for Emma.” It’s technically not a lie, but it isn’t true either. You take your seat right across the rest of the Sanos quietly, feeling everyone’s watchful gaze on you, picking up your drink in shaky hands. “I forgive you both. Let’s put the past behind us.”
Your heart drops further to your stomach when you realize what you had just said. You feel even worse when you realize you meant every word: that you forgive them, because you’re tired of being angry. You’re tired of holding them in your heart and making plans to avoid them. If you were going to keep secrets from Emma, then you’ll have to actually put it behind you or it would eat you alive.
Anyone else who knew your situation would have called you a moron for doing so, but when you look at Emma, who is smiling at her brothers, you know you did what you think is the right thing and you did it for the right reason.
Love.
Right.
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YOU feel overwhelmed.
With your dwindling savings and the looming fear of failure concerning your tests hanging over your head, it feels like the world is throwing one curveball after another at you. Applying to jobs had been even more disappointing. Apparently, no one wanted to take in a college student who was fired from her last job, not especially after that scathing recommendation letter from your former employer that said very concerning things about you.
You know it won’t be long until you have nothing left and time is running out for you. At this rate if you don’t get any job, you might have to ask someone for a loan or financial aid. But you don’t want it to get to that.
‘I still have some time before then. I can get a new job, no matter what it is.’
With no classes for the rest of the day, you decide to keep searching for jobs with a renewed vigor. pulling yourself up and googling jobs with vacancies, writing applications and reviewing them before sending it to multiple places. You’re sure if you send a hundred applications, one will definitely call you back. You kept sending application after application until you lost count of how much you’ve put out. Your back aches from being hunched over to type on your phone, your eyes are blurry from staring at the screen for so long and your mouth feels dry but you don’t stop sending mails.
Immersed in your application, you don’t realize that someone is practically pounding on the door of your room until the door flies open, Emma barging in, guns blazing with a terrified look on her face. You exit out of your email app and close your tabs quickly just as she comes in, screaming your name with a shaky voice.
“(Name)? (Name)!”
You rush towards her, panicking that something terrible might have happened to her. Grabbing her by her shoulders, you hold her in place, trying to calm her down. “I’m here, I’m here. Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
For a few seconds, it’s as if Emma can’t register that it’s you holding her, struggling in your grasp until she looks at your face. Her eyes lit up in recognition, a sigh of relief escaping her lips only for her relieved face to turn furious, like she’s angry at you.
Scratch that, she IS angry at you.
“For god’s sake (name) don’t scare me like that!” You look at your best friend, clearly puzzled by her answer to your question as you release her shoulders. As if reading your mind, Emma adds; “I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes and when you didn’t answer, I called you again for five minutes but it said your line was busy! So I panicked. I thought something had happened to you.”
‘Whoops’
 You put your phone on do not disturb because you didn’t want any distractions while you were applying for jobs. You also never told anyone that you had lost your old job and you were looking for a new one, especially not Emma. Knowing her, if she knew you were fired, she’d try to assist you with money despite your protests. You don’t want to use her kindness for your own benefit, especially in this friendship. Even if you agreed to borrow money from her, she would never let you pay it back.
You’re the kind of person to pull your own weight, not to cast the burden onto someone else. You don’t want her to feel obligated to help you.
“I’m really sorry for scaring you. I put my phone on dnd because I was busy-”
“You never, EVER put your phone on DnD, even when you’re doing your homework.”
Now she sounds suspicious, the last thing you want. Knowing yourself, you find it hard to lie and Emma can be persuasive in figuring out secrets, like how she had convinced you to tell her you had a crush on her brother when you first met her.
You really don’t want her to find out this secret.
It’s as if for the first time someone hears your prayers for once because Emma drops this issue instantly. “You know what? That doesn’t matter.” She brushed your hands off her shoulders, letting them fall to your side as she walked away. “If your phone was on dnd, it means you didn’t get my message. No wonder you’re not dressed up.”
‘Message?’
For the third time today, your face scrunches up in confusion as Emma walks up to your wardrobe and starts digging through it. “What message?” You ask, tentatively. You hope it doesn’t have anything to do with either of her brothers - two people you’ve been avoiding for a while now. Just because you’ve given them grace doesn’t mean you want to be associated with them. It’s hard to not feel some form of resentment for what they did to you.
Without looking up from her task, she says cheerily, “Mikey and Izana said they want to take us out shopping today!”
Your heart drops at the statement. Just as you feared. Maybe things will never go your way and you just have to accept life as it is.
“Are you sure about that?” The last thing you wanted was to arrive at a place, only to find out your presence is unwanted, again.
“It’s not going to be like the last party, I swear.” It’s as if Emma can read your thoughts, because she dismisses the idea immediately. “Mikey practically begged me to drag you out- Oh this looks cute, come here (name).”
Despite being unnerved, you make your way towards Emma in strides until you’re besides her. You stand there, perplexed that of all the people, Manjiro Sano, who you’re sure despises you, asked for you to come with them. ‘Or maybe it wasn’t like that.’ You try to rationalize the whole situation. ‘Emma might have asked if I could come and he told her to go ahead. Maybe Izana wasn’t in the mood to protest it either, since he seems okay with my presence. Or he wants to test me to see if I’d say a peep.’
“I can hardly believe Manjiro would want me there.” You decide to voice out your doubts as Emma puts a couple of outfits on your body to see what matched. “Or that Izana wouldn’t protest my presence there. Just because they apologized doesn’t mean they automatically like m-”
“This dress looks so pretty on you. You’re totally wearing this.” Emma cuts you off, putting a white fitted dress with slight ruffles at the end, as if she wasn’t even listening to you. You’re about to voice your concerns again when she adds. “(name), my brothers never ever apologize to anybody. Mikey’s selfish and immature when it comes to taking accountability, even when he’s caught red handed and Izana is too prideful to ever admit he’s wrong. But they did that for you. Do you know how much of a big deal that is?”
“You had to give them the silent treatment for them to do it-”
“They still wouldn’t have apologized, they would have threatened to hurt you or put you in danger, as long as it meant you were gone and they didn’t have to say sorry. Sometimes, my brother’s pride is much more important than I am to them.” You feel a chill run down your spine when you register that Emma’s silence could have meant your disappearance. Suddenly, the gun in Izana’s hands last time wasn’t just a threat, it was a promise and it made sense now when he called you a fool for trusting him. “But they laid down that pride, for you. You. Don’t you understand?”
“I don’t-”
“I think my brothers are in love with you.”
“HUH!”
‘Excuse me?’
Your mouth fell open in shock, trying to process what you just heard. Their apology, the fake acting, everything worked well; too well in fact that Emma was suddenly jumping into the wildest conclusions, conclusions that not even in your wildest imaginations you could jump to. Maybe if you were still naïve, you would have been elated at the idea of the two brothers liking you in any capacity. If Mikey hadn’t sexually assaulted you and if Izana hadn’t pointed a loaded gun at your head, you would have believed that lie hook, line and sinker.
But you know the truth. Neither of the brothers are capable of loving you.
You don’t say anything to counter Emma or change her mind. Maybe it’s best she thinks they’re in love with you and live in her headspace that her plan of endearing you to her brothers worked. It’ll keep her less suspicious. “Well, don’t be shocked babe, it’s not just them, even the rest of the executives have a crush on you. You’re a work of art painted by god himself and you have the personality of a fucking saint, who wouldn’t love you?” She giggled, pushing the dress into your chest. “Now go shower and put this on. I’ll do your hair and makeup when you come out. I’ll tell the boys we’re going to be late.”
‘Yeah. Who wouldn’t love me?’
You force a smile as you disappear into the bathroom.
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    IZANA knows you’re beautiful.
It’s not something that could be denied. Anyone could insult you about not having money or being a prude, but no one could ever call you ugly and mean it. You’ve got that sort of grace that many girls don’t have, not just the looks, but the purity of your soul and a heart of gold. Your innocence is like a white cloth, with no blemishes, no stains, because of your hard upbringing and strong morals.
To him, you would be fun to ruin.
He’s not the only one that can’t take his eyes off you. Mikey’s more obvious with his staring, watching your every move as you walked towards them alongside Emma. Dressed in a white short dress with ruffles at the bottom and a blue lace trim, your makeup is rather cutesy, doll-like even, making you look much more innocent than you usually do. Your demeanour today is not so different, donning your usual shy appearance, eyes cast down to your feet as opposed to Emma’s bright, preppy aura, her chin up and eyes alight.
Like night and day. You two couldn’t be any more different.
Mikey’s the first to react, ever the affectionate brother, pulling Emma into a tight hug the second she stepped in his vicinity.
“Emmaaaa”
Aware of his displeasure about them being two hours late, she hugged him back with equal intensity, rubbing his back to soothe him until he calmed down. Izana notices you looking at their interaction with a longing gaze in your eyes, and at first, he wonders if you want to hug Mikey too. It wouldn’t have surprised him, given how desperate you are for any form of affection, but then he remembers you too once had a family and you had elder brothers.
‘I wonder if she misses them.’
He’s cut off by his thoughts when Emma launches herself at him. He catches her in time, hugging her tight and patting her hair, Mikey also joining in the hug too, dorayaki always switches on his more affectionate side. You can only stand there awkwardly with your hands by your side, looking away from the three siblings as if you’re intruding in a private moment. Izana decides to be merciful enough to stop taunting you with their love.
“I think we’re making your friend jealous.” His purple eyes meet yours as he makes the statement. Your eyes widened as the three siblings separated, stammering out shaky excuses, clearly embarrassed that you were caught staring. “N-no, I don’t mean to- I-i mean I-i’m not… you can keep hugging I don’t mind… I’ll just…”
There it is again. That shyness as you looked down at your feet, trying to hide your flustered gaze away from them. Izana thinks that perhaps his favourite trait of yours is the ability to get so worked up easily, it makes it so fun to tease you.
“Aww, (name), do you want a hug too?” Emma eggs on, making you even more flustered. Oh so you also swing that way, interesting. “You must be feeling left out-”
“Emma!”
Your outburst only makes the three siblings laugh at you for a full minute before dropping the whole thing altogether. Besides, they were in public, any further teasing would have turned into something more charged.
He wonders what would happen if you were alone with either of them.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Emma says, walking back to you and grabbing your arm, pulling you alongside her. “Come on, we came out too late and all the stores are gonna close within four hours. Let’s go!”
Izana follows behind Mikey, until he catches up with him. He realizes his brother is silent, which was odd since he was so chatty and affectionate just minutes before. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when he follows Mikey’s gaze to your backside, lust practically oozing from how he was undressing you with his eyes.
Izana gets it. Your dress makes your body look good and your ass looks amazing in it; if he had any less control, he would have pounced on you in the middle of the mall.
But for someone who said he doesn’t want you at first, Mikey looks like he wants to drag you into a corner and fuck you like a slut right now. Sometimes, he wonders why Mikey chooses to lie and deny himself of things he wants instead of asking his dear big brother for help.
The white haired male leans closer to Mikey, his voice low enough for only the both of them to hear. “Don’t forget our bet.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
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    YOU’RE not buying anything.
It’s a blow to Mikey’s pride that you’re just standing there, not touching anything.
He thought you’d jump at the opportunity to take his money and run wild with it, so that he’ll call Izana’s bluff about you loving him. For someone as poor as you, free money is like a dream come true. He knows your type of woman; pretty, nothing up in your head apart from books and the desire to want something more. He’s dated girls below and at his financial ladder, and most of the times, the poor girls love to drain him dry of his cash- not like that would ever happen, what’s a few million dollars gonna do to his wealth
It makes him feel less guilty when he eventually takes his own payment in kind, letting out his dark impulses when he has desires to be fulfilled. He drains them of all the love and adoration they can give to him until there’s nothing left for him to lord over.
Mikey watches you from the corner of his eye, the way you take note of each outfit before just nodding and moving to the next one. It annoys him. ‘Do you think you’re too good for an expensive designer brand (name)?’
Eventually, he gets up from his chair, excusing himself from one of Emma’s fitting sessions to meet up with you. He doesn’t miss the way your hand shakes nervously as you hide it behind your back, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Oh hey Mik- Manjiro. Do you need anything?”
“Don’t you like anything in this store?”
“W-what? Of course I do, the clothes here are pretty-”
“But you aren’t buying anything.”
It’s your turn to be confused, looking at Manjiro like he had two heads. What could possibly be going on in that head of yours that made his statement so surprising? “If you don’t like anything in this store, I could take you to another place while Emma and Izana stay here. We can meet up with them later.”
You look at him for a few seconds, blinking once, then twice before smiling at him, a bit more honest this time and to his dismay he feels something hot burning in his chest and spreading to his face. “Oh, that’s nice of you,” your words come out in a drawl, eyes half-lidded as you thumb one of the clothes. “But the truth is, everything in this mall is much too overpriced, so I can’t really afford anything, but it’s how life is. I’ve worked in a store like this before, I can tell you that I buy similar clothes in the thrift store for less and save money for my next year tuition while looking good. Quality isn’t too different either and I’m happy.”
For the first time, Mikey really takes a good look at your face, because he’s sure you’re not the same person; talking about responsibility and budgeting instead of scuffing at your feet like you usually do.
He understands why Izana called him a self-centered fool that never noticed anything that didn’t involve himself. The world has given you so much pain and suffering and yet, you work around it to just survive and move on, not once blaming him for anything.
He hopes for your sake, Izana isn’t right for saying he’s in love with you.
“Manjiro?”
There’s a softness to your gaze when you look at him, as opposed to other girls who stare at him like he holds heaven and the earth in his hands.
It’s the same way his mother used to look at him.
He quickly pushed that thought aside, nearly appalled he compared you to his mother. If he didn’t know better, he’d think you love him unconditionally. But that’s not possible. No one loves a stranger unconditionally, there has to be something you want from him.
But that’s fine, you’ll help each other plenty.
“(Name), you don’t know why I told Emma to bring you here?”
“You wanted me here?”
“I promised you I was going to take you out shopping that day in the car.”
You wince visibly when he mentions it, and it annoys him, you’re acting like he did something horrible like rape you. Honestly, if you’re going to keep acting like this, maybe he should just do it, then you’ll have a reason to be terrified of him. “I’m trying my best to forget that day ever happened and put it behind me. You already apologized to me and I forgave you. You don’t have to do anything to make up for it-”
‘All this niceness is making me sick to my stomach. I need to shut her up fast.’
Before you could finish speaking, Mikey called one of the saleswomen around, telling them to come quickly.
“What are you-”
“Help her pick whatever she wants. I’ll pay for it.”
“Yes sir. Follow me.”
You look mortified, about to open your mouth to protest, only to be dragged away by the saleswoman before you could voice your grievances.
From the corner of the room, Mikey can feel Izana watching you both, an amused smirk etched onto his lips and Emma practically swooning over how romantic it was that Mikey wants to spend it on you.
‘Emma buys it. Perhaps I should listen to Izana more often.’
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  YOU hate being the center of attention. If you knew that this kind of thing was going to happen, you would have doubled down on not coming with Emma.
“Let me buy your food (name)-”
“No little brother, you’ve spent enough, I can take care of it-”
“I’m not complaining about spending money now am I?”
“Focus on getting your kiddie meals, let a man take care of the bills.”
You hate this so much. You’ve heard of the Sano brothers competing against each other for the pettiest of reasons, but you never expected to be one of them. Now, you can’t even eat in peace after spending hours on your feet trying on clothes.
You’ve heard whispers of people calling you a gold digger. The store clerks, other patrons, anyone who happened to see you buy all those things have said horrible things about you. Making assumptions that you must be sleeping with the Sano brothers - their newest attraction and predicting your downfall soon enough because you must have seduced them.
Here in this food court, everyone is giving you a dirty look for not only holding the line, but because of their preconceived notion; you’re not worth the hold up.
And it’s giving Emma even worse ideas, really fueling the theory that they’re “in love” with you. But you know the truth. It’s like when your brothers would fight amongst each other to get a pretty girl, only to use and dump her because she’s just a prize.
Mikey and Izana don’t like you, they’re trying to outdo each other.
“Manjiro, Izana”
Their bickering stops the moment they hear you calling them. They slowly turn their attention towards you, their gazes burning holes into you for interrupting their conversation. You’re careful with your next words, it’s easier to tolerate them treating you like a pinup doll than them hating you and you don’t want to make them angry either, knowing fully well they’ll hurt you the second Emma isn’t looking at them. “I’m so sorry for causing all this commotion and keeping you two from eating. How about you both get something to eat first? I haven’t made up my mind yet, maybe we can get something to go when you’re done.”
You hold your breath, praying to God that they take this as you being an idiot for putting them first and just do as you asked. Luckily for you, your relief was immediate as they suddenly relaxed, mumbling “yeah, you’re right.” And “I’m actually hungry” before doing as you said. A sigh of relief crosses your lips as they finally get their separate orders and make their way back to the private booth they ordered, guards standing outside waiting for you three to be back.
Emma’s eyes lit up in amusement as you came in and sat next to her, a smug smirk tugging on her lips, as if telling you ‘they’re so head over heels in love with you.’ “Seems like you didn’t get any food, (name)” her tone is teasing. You know she has good intentions, but that’s the last thing you want to hear after the embarrassing ordeal you just went through right now. “Couldn’t decide between spicy or sweet? You can just pick both.”
You know exactly what she’s insinuating, but honestly, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You feel like what they’re doing is backing you into a corner, it’s going to be harder to believe that both of them hurt you, especially with everything that they’ve done. It’s not like you can say no because they’ll get angry and hurt you again for insulting their pride. And if you do keep their gifts, they’re not above using it to make you do things you don’t want to.
‘Just look on the bright side.’ You try to think positively. ‘They might not go to the extreme since Emma is watching them closely-’
“THIS DOESN’T HAVE A FLAG ON IT. I’M NOT EATING IT.”
Of course. Things can never go so smoothly whenever you find yourself in the company of the Sano brothers.
“Mikey not this again. Ken is not here to put a flag for you and I’m not doing that for you either.” Emma sighs in annoyance. “You’re twenty-four, not fourteen, eat your damn food.”
“I’m not eating this shit.”
You thought it was a rumor that Mikey has an obsession with flags and wouldn’t eat without it, but this being a fact was … shocking. You watch as the man pouts, like he’s not the feared president of Toman’s fraternity but a spoiled kid; it’s somehow cute, the way he looks distraught over his food. ‘Reminds me of my younger cousin who wouldn’t eat unless someone fed him. Specifically me. Moments like this make Mikey seem so human.’
“Come onnn” Emma groans. “Mikey eat! You said you won’t do this again-”
“No”
Emma’s at her wit ends at this point and turns to Izana, but quickly dismisses the idea of asking him for help, probably because it would cause another fight, turning to you instead. “(Name), please convince him to eat something” Emma pleaded. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around a starving Mikey, he can be very snippy.”
You want to reject the idea, but with Emma’s pleading gaze and your inability to say no, you decide to try. You’ve had experiences with little kids who dig into their heels, refusing to do anything, and compromise is always the answer. You think that would work on Mikey too. “Manjiro, we don’t have a flag here or anything, what can we do to help you eat?”
He’s silent, still pouting as he thinks of your proposition for a few minutes until his eyes light up, a devious smirk slowly crawling onto his lips as he stares at you.
“Sit on my lap and feed me.”
Emma nearly chokes on her food, coughing loudly as she drinks water in an attempt to catch her breath. Izana only chuckles at Mikey’s bizarre but not surprising request, continuing to enjoy his now premium entertainment. You think it’s a joke, asking him to be more serious until Mikey repeats his request with a serious expression on his face. “Sit on my lap and feed me or I won’t eat this shit. I’ll even throw it away.”
‘This cannot be happening’
“Manjiro we’re in publi-” You’re cut off by Emma kicking you hard under the table, her eyes sharp enough to cut through glass. Stifling a cry of pain, you turn to her, your voice in a low whisper. “This is too much. What if someone see us-”
“And so what? This is your chance to cozy up with Mikey. He’s willingly let you touch him which means he definitely likes you. You have to stop being shy about your own affection.” She hissed back. You want to tell her that this has nothing to do with being shy with your affection, but has everything to do with Mikey’s previous actions whenever you got too close to him. “And there’s nothing dirty or wrong about feeding him and sitting on his lap. It’s just an innocent thing.”
“B-but-”
“(Name) just please. It’s a private booth, no one’s gonna look inside. Mikey has problems with eating, just this once, please please-”
Emma’s begging eventually gets to your soft heart and you cave in, pushing yourself up from your end of the booth and crossing over to his side. Mikey’s smile only gets bigger as you lower yourself onto his knees so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea, ignoring the way your legs were shaking from how nervous you were. You reach for the spoon to start, only for two strong hands to yank you forward until your ass sat comfortably on his thighs, earning a gasp from you.
“There, that’s better.” He murmured. “You’re much more comfortable like this.”
You’re not, but you know he doesn’t care. It’s his and Izana’s goal to cross as many of your boundaries as they can, just to see how much they’ll get away with.
‘Just do what you’re told. It’ll be over before you know it.’
Swallowing the utter embarrassment and nervousness you felt right now, you picked up a spoonful of food and angled it to his lips, a smile on yours to hide your true emotions.
“Open wide.”
Surprisingly, Mikey’s receptive to your feeding, reducing the embarrassment by at least fifty percent. You take the job as seriously as you can, easing him into opening his mouth and encouraging him to chew and swallow like you would your cousin and he does as he’s told without much of a fuss, his eyes glazed over in bliss, despite Izana constantly looking like he wants to laugh and Emma staring at the two of you like a couple out of a romance story, her eyes almost in hearts.
With more eager bites Mikey takes, you get more comfortable on his lap -apart from the hard thing poking your behind, most likely his keys-, your hand hovering under his spoon to avoid his food from spilling on his clothes. Emma may have a point, there was nothing wrong with feeding him, as long as he eventually ate something and perhaps he was just too lazy to do it on his own.
Unlike the other encounters, it doesn’t feel dirty or wrong, Mikey doesn’t creep a hand underneath your dress or touch your thighs, despite the booth being private enough and the table large enough to cover him if he attempts to do so. Izana doesn’t make lewd jokes about it either, apart from muttering ‘pervert’ and ‘spoiled brat’ to Mikey’s hearing -which makes him pout briefly- and Emma thinks it’s innocent enough to take videos of you two being cute together, sending it to their other friends.
It was weird, but seeing him wait on you patiently instead of yelling at you was nice. It’s been a while since you took care of anyone and he looked so innocent with his puffed up cheeks and bright eyes, waiting on you to feed him.
This was definitely the sweetheart, cheeky Mikey everyone talked about whenever he was brought up in a conversation of attractive men. The one you fantasized about when imagining how nice he’d be to you as opposed to his cold demeanour.
But still, you know it’s not permanent. It doesn’t make him any less cruel, just more human. You know it’s an act, but it still makes you sad regardless.
You wished he was kind to you all the time.
Emma’s phone pings with a new message in the middle of videoing you both, brows furrowing as she reads the text carefully. You all notice the sudden change of mood, from her usual chirpy self to a troubled expression.
“I totally forgot, I promised Yuzuha to help with her and Mitsuya’s project.” she hurriedly began picking up her things. “I’ve gotta go. You guys better drop (name) at her place safely.”
‘No! Don’t leave without me’
You’re about to open your mouth and tell her you want to leave with her, but you feel Mikey’s hand on your waist gripping you tightly, the warning loud and clear: keep your mouth shut. 
“Sure Em. We’ll get her home safely. Promise” Izana speaks for you, his eyes glimmering with mischief. Reassured, she pecks both her brothers’ on the cheeks before giving you a not so subtle wink, encouraging you to ‘have fun’ with her brothers.
You wish she was not so trusting of her big brothers.
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  YOU have a bad habit of denying the ending of a book, until you reach there and realize there’s nothing you could do to save the protagonist.
You remember crying after reading “Lolita” for the first time. Emma had warned you beforehand that justice is never served at the end of the story and yet while reading it, you half-expected - no hoped for- someone to jump in and save the little girl. When you read Macbeth, you hoped he’d return to his senses before killing the king that was his good friend. When reading Hamlet, you hoped he would tell Ophelia he was sorry for killing her father, that he’d tell her he loved her before she died. You hoped Juliet would wake up before Romeo drank the poison, stopping him from killing himself, despite reading all these stories over and over again.
But just like your life, these stories were tragedies and the characters were doomed by the narrative.
You knew Emma had unintentionally sealed your fate when she left you in the care of her brothers to meet up with Yuzuha and you tried rationalizing every action that led you up to this point while in the car with the brothers heading off to your dorm. Could you have avoided hanging out with Emma today? Maybe not. She would have noticed you shying away from her brothers and become suspicious. Rejecting any offer given to you by the Sanos could mean insulting them.
Mikey is someone who hates hearing ‘no’.
‘There’s no point in thinking about the what ifs’ you tell yourself solemnly. ‘Every choice I could have made would have brought me back to them, regardless.’
The car revs to a stop at your dorm, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Thank you very much for everything.” You don’t look up from your lap, too scared to face them now that you’re alone. “I’m grateful for all the things you bought me.”
“You probably need help in carrying all of that, don’t you?” Mikey doesn’t acknowledge your thanks, but you don’t really expect him to. “I’ll help. Izana, you can wait, right?”
“I’m giving you an hour.”
You want to reject his help, but Izana’s the one driving and you’re at the backseat with your properties. You saw him when he put on the child lock earlier on, so you know you couldn’t just open the door and make a run for it.
You wait patiently for Mikey to come out of the passenger’s seat, opening the door and taking out the larger clothes and shoes, leaving you with only the little things like smaller clothes and the few jewelry you bought.
Correction, Mikey bought for you.
You go ahead of him, being the one who knows your room and the two of you walk in silence. Tension lies thick between the two of you as you make your way up the stairs, past the other rooms until you reach the end of the hallway. Like a predator, he watches you carefully as you turn the locks with trembling hands, opening it completely and entering inside. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, letting himself inside the room and kicking the door shut behind him.
Your eyes try to look anywhere but him as you open your wardrobe and arrange your new things. From the corner of your eye, you watch him drop your shopping bags beside your feet and move towards your bedside table. As you bend to pick up the rest of the clothes to neatly fold into squares while you figure out what to do with it, you spot him thumbing your Rosary beads between his fingers, as if he’s deep in thought.
“Seen this with Hakkai before.” He murmurs just enough for you to hear. You almost forgot he and Hakkai know each other, and with your bitter history with the Shibas, you assume that they probably have something to do with Mikey’s notion about you. “What do you use it for?”
“Prayers” You answer. “For protection, too.”
He laughs in response; it’s dark, tinged with mockery as opposed to his earlier laughter with his family, making your rate speed up until you can hear it thrumming in your ears. You know why he’s laughing and if you didn’t find yourself in this kind of predicament with him, you would have found it funny too.
“A lot of good it has done in protecting you.”
You don’t say anything in response, opting to stay quiet so that you don’t argue or agree with him. He has a point, a lot good it has done in protecting you when you wore it that day in Mikey’s car. Or when Izana broke into your room to harrass you. Or when you press it close to your chest in the night, hoping to keep your nightmares away. At this point, you’re sure your sins are too great for God to care about you anymore or hear your prayers.
After all, He couldn’t bear to look at his own son when the sins he was dying for was much too piled up on him, how much more you?
Mikey doesn’t say anything more, dropping the beads back before focusing his attention elsewhere. You continue with your tasks silently, slowly folding your new clothes in squares attempting to make space for them and wasting his time, hoping one hour would come by quickly so that he would leave.
‘I just need one hour to pass-’
“Are you in love with me (name)?”
You freeze.
The answer should be simple, shouldn’t it? After all he’s done to you, every humiliating ordeal he put you through the entire time you’ve known him, you should loathe his very presence. Resentment always lurks beneath your skin whenever you see him with another girl, knowing fully well he could get whoever he wants, he can sleep with them whenever he pleases and yet he chose to not only hurt you, but go on with his own life while yours falls apart.
Yet, you can’t say it.
Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his footsteps inch closer, his eyes burning holes on your back. You shudder when you feel his hand on your bicep, roughly turning you around to face him. Dark eyes scan your features, before meeting your own, staring into them as the silence stretches on.
“Oh” he said, still maintaining his grip on you. Your silence is a resounding answer to his question and now all you feel is shame. For being romantically attracted to him. For being so weak that you couldn’t hate him or push him off you. You want to crawl up in yourself and hide away from him, so that he can’t see how pathetic and vulnerable you are anymore.
“You look ashamed (name). Is it because you want to resent me, but you can’t? Or because you know I don’t love you?” His free hand cups your face, cleaning the tear drop that had rolled down your cheeks, a gesture so gentle and yet, at the same time so cruel when you couple it with the fact that his fingers are digging into your arm painfully. “It’s okay. You don’t need to cry.”
“M-manjiro, please go hom-”
You hate yourself. You hate how you’re melting into his touch like you’re ice in his warm hands. You should be pushing him away and telling him to go to hell, to stop touching you. Instead, you let him drag you away from the wardrobe towards your bed, the inevitable. Heart thudding against your chest, body trembling with tears streaming down your face, you brace yourself to be shoved on the bed roughly and taken advantage off by force, your pleas of mercy and forgiveness ignored.
Only for him to let go of you.
You stand there, confused as he sits on the bed comfortably, his legs slightly spread. His face looked so calm and impassive, like this was his room, his space and you were the one out of place. “Come sit here, (name)” He points at his legs. You don’t move, frozen on your spot as the realization dawns on you about Mikey’s plan.
He wants you to be a willing participant.
You take a step back, ready to run away from here as fast as possible, but Mikey only tuts in disappointment. ��Would you rather I chase you down and rape you instead?” The way he says it so casually, like he didn’t just threaten you sends chills down your spine. “You know fully well you can’t outrun me.”
You swallow hard, weighing your choices as you stare at him. Running away right now would give you a chance to get away from him, but he could still catch up to you if he wants to. Even if you escape him, Izana is downstairs and would willingly hunt you for sport. You thought of hiding in one of your dormmate’s room, but no girl here likes you enough to incur Toman’s wrath.
‘I’m finished.’
Your feet move on their own towards Mikey and his hands maneuver your body until you’re straddling him, your legs on either side of his waist, knees digging into the mattress, your crotch hovering over his. You wait for him to attack you with his touches or kisses, for him to take what he wants and leave you a broken woman, but he doesn’t move an inch, only opting to speak, his breath tickling your face.
“Show me how much you love me.”
“What?” You whisper, confused. What does he mean by that? “I don’t understand-”
“You said you love me, so show me.” He repeats again. “Pleasure me.”
Pleasure him? You don’t know how to do anything. Apart from kissing someone, which you only learned when you stayed with the Shiba’s, you were so sheltered that you don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Even when you asked your mother about how to please your husband, she only told you that your job is to lie down and let the man do as he pleases. Emma had made a significant effort in trying to show you a demonstration, but ultimately you chickened out because you couldn’t risk watching something as filthy as pornography.
‘He’s going to get angry at me.’ You start to panic. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Oh God, he’ll hurt me for sure. He’ll force himself on me again-’
“I-i don’t know what to do… I’ve never done this before- I’m sorry, I’m sorry- please don’t hurt me.”
You don’t realize that you’re shaking once again, until you feel his hands slipping onto your waist, gripping it tight to steady you. “Stop shaking. This is why I don’t like virgins.” Mikey snapped. If you didn’t feel embarrassed before, you feel utterly humiliated. Not only were you forced into a situation you didn’t want to be in, you couldn’t even do anything to get yourself out of it.
You gasp quietly as he pushes your hips down to his crotch, pressing your clothed cunt against his hard cock. Your head falls onto his shoulder as his hands grab your ass from under your dress, rocking you against him, your dress lifting up higher and higher until it’s past your thighs.
His hands are hot against the fat of your ass, his warm breathy groans tickling down your neck as he pleasures himself with your body. The friction feels good, much to your horror, so good that you nearly forget what kind of predicament you found yourself in, feeling the ridge of his dick touch your clit repeatedly, jolts of pleasure running down your body, a damp patch growing on your panties. At the back of your mind, you know you don’t want this, but the way he controls your hips to his rhythm, the soft grunts he lets out of his lips and the way his breath tickles your skin, has you lowering your inhibitions bit by bit, holding onto his shoulders to attempt to anchor yourself down.
‘I-i’m not… I shouldn’t feel good doing this-’
A whine nearly escapes your lips as he abruptly stops his grinding, the small pleasure you felt suddenly ripped away from you. You quickly sit straight up, about to ask him what was going on, only for him to say. “You know what to do now, so do it.”
Oh. He was teaching you how to get him off. Of course, you must have forgotten that this was all supposed to be for his pleasure, not yours.
He lets go of your bottom, resting his elbows on the bed, dark eyes watching you, waiting for you to go ahead. You balance yourself, warping your hands around his neck and pressing your hips downwards, trying to mimic his previous movements. Your hip movements are awkward, slow, out of rhythm, and you start to panic. With his dark eyes trained on you, nervousness starts to creep in, your body trembling once again, making your movements even more unpleasant.
You peek at Mikey from your lashes, your heart dropping down to your stomach as you see the increasing frustration and annoyance written all over his face. It makes you try harder, try to arch your back, try to grind harder onto him but it doesn’t earn a sound from him.
‘I’m trying. I’m trying. God knows I’m trying but I can’t do it right I can’t-’
Mikey’s patience with your ‘incompetence’ runs thin, and before you know what was happening, your back hits the hard mattress, his body hovering above you. Panic rises in your chest when you see his darkened gaze, fury, lust and disgust all mixed into his eyes as he pinned you down with one hand. “Can’t do one thing right. You claim to love me but you can’t even make me happy. I did all that for you and yet you can’t do what I want-”
You struggle against his grasp when he grabs the front of your white dress- your favourite dress and suddenly rips it off your body and into shreds, the rope burns leaving marks on your body, your panties following suit. You let out a guttural scream, fear creeping in your veins when you realize just how far gone Mikey was.
“STOP IT! STOP IT MIKEY! MIKEY PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME- I’M SORRY, I’LL LOVE YOU HARDER, JUST DON’T DO THIS TO ME-”
He ignores your screams, discarding the scraps of clothes and using his free hand to undo his belt, his expression blank, uncaring. You kick against his feet, screaming at him to stop but it falls on deaf ears as he drags out his penis, lowering his hips closer to yours. You started to weep, as he gathered what’s left of your slick.
“If you do this to me, I’ll never forgive you.” You weep, tears rolling down your cheeks. He doesn’t react, gathering spit in his mouth and spitting on your uncovered woman hood, before rubbing his cock on it again. “I’ll hate you for the rest of my life, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” He doesn’t say anything, his cockhead pushing through your hole bit by bit until you hiss out.
“I’ll kill myself.”
He paused his movements, his eyes growing wide as you utter those words, but you’re too exhausted to care. “I’ll kill myself if you take the only thing I have left. I know you don’t care because you already have blood on your hands, what’s my life compared to others? but I will kill myself-”
“You can’t be serious-”
You curse him out, the all bitterness and frustration of life laced in your voice. “You made everyone hate me. I lost my job, failed my test and because I was haunted by what you did to me in that car to the point I couldn’t sleep. When you apologized, I forgave you. I forgave you because loving you was all that I had left and I hoped that you’ll change. I don’t have money, I don’t have a family, I don’t have friends, I have NOTHING else to live for. If you take the one thing I have left, I will kill myself!"
It’s as if something in Mikey’s brain clicked. He pulls out his tip from you before he could go any further, tucking his manhood back into his trousers. Through tear streaked eyes, you could see an unfamiliar look in his visage, something you thought he would never feel for anyone but himself.
Guilt.
He lets you go, climbing off your body and standing upright, his hand tousling his long blond hair, immense guilt written on his face. You turn around, away from him and curl into a ball to hide your body from him, nursing your bruised wrists while sobbing quietly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything as you cry, not even to defend himself. Eventually, you hear him shuffle around, before dropping something on your table and turning to leave.
You don’t look at him as he turns the knob, opening your room door to leave.
“I’m sorry.”
“Leave me alone, please.”
He doesn’t say anything else, closing the door behind him silently. With him gone, you peek over your shoulder to see what he put on the table.
The huge stack of cash only makes you curl into a tighter ball and weep harder.
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Bonus:
  THE look on Mikey’s face was nothing short of priceless.
It’s a mixture of anger, hurt and guilt - so much guilt that could kill a normal man. Izana could only watch humorously as Mikey sat down in the passenger seat of his car, violently tossing his phone onto his lap.
“You won. Here’s your stupid pictures.”
He only smiles at his little brother’s anger, finding it hilarious that his brother would be upset at being wrong about you being in love with him. “Wow Mikey, you really work fast. How the hell did she not know the spy cameras were there huh?” Izana snickered, picking the phone up to look at the pictures taken. His grin only stretches further as he sees you in intimate positions, even one with you fully naked, your perfect tits out on display and tears running down your cheeks. “Come on, how was your first time with a virgin? You don’t look too happy. Did she cry a whole lot-”
“I didn’t sleep with her.”
His smile falls lopsided. There was something strange about Mikey, like he had done something he couldn’t take back. Which was shocking, this was the same man that had paid Makoto - your PA, to put spy cameras in your room, what changed? “Why though? Don’t tell me she made you go soft or something-”
“She was going to fucking kill herself if I went through with it.”
“And you stopped?” Izana scoffed at Mikey. Really? That’s why he didn’t go ahead with taking what he wants? “She was gonna silence herself permanently, no one would have known.”
Mikey’s jaw clenched, but he only grunted, his eyes looking down at his lap. “Just drive me back to my dorm room.”
Izana rolled his eyes at Mikey. “This is the last time I help you with a girl, all that effort for nothing.” He snaps, revving up the engine to leave. “Since when did you get so soft, Mikey? Don’t tell me you fell in love with her while you were on top of her?”
Mikey stays quiet this time, his silence holding the answers.
‘Well fuck. That was unexpected.’
Special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @theblueslytherin @rabbit @kakusimp @Rin-10 @sousydive @torasplanet @playgirlfawn @gumiegumie @kurokawaia @anastasiatheloveofyourlife @bontenxo @satorubby @black-swan-blog27 @asirensrage
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hairmetal666 · 9 months ago
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TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions
Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.
You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.
Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.
He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.
There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.
The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."
And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.
"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.
The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.
The world around him falls away at the touch.
---
He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.
---
They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--
He wants to kiss Eddie.
So, he does.
It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.
---
Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.
He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.
She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.
He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.
Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.
---
He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.
He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.
"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"
He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.
"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."
Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.
"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."
"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.
His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.
Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--
"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"
Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.
---
He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.
A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.
He's pretty sure he has a concussion.
"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.
Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.
"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"
Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.
---
They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.
Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.
They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.
He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.
In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.
---
He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.
"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"
Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.
They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.
"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.
"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.
---
Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--
"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."
Eddie stays limp in his arms.
"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."
The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.
"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.
"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."
Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."
He goes still in Steve's hold.
---
The images come faster now--
A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence
Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there
Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize
Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him
Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face
In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head
In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect
---
The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.
Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.
Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.
"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"
Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.
The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.
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hynjinsworld · 13 days ago
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Mr. Secret
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pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x subfem!reader
warning: swearing, name calling, oral sex, p in v, rough sex, MDNI!
wc: 3.2k
genre: Angst to Smut
summary: Y/n was invited to Stray Kids celebration party. However, when Y/n catches Hyunjin kissing a random girl, jealousy emerges to which causes a problem, making only the solution of having sex with one another.
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Lights flash violently with loud beats bouncing off every wall inside the house. The ambiance is electric, with only the dim kitchen light providing a soft glow amidst the chaos. Girls are dancing or grinding up against their boyfriends or random men, creating a whirlwind of movement and lost into the crowd. The house is packed with people, all gathered to celebrate the success of the rock band Stray Kids. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation. Therefore, Y/n found herself as a special guest of none other than Hwang Hyunjin from Stray Kids. Despite her close ties with Hyunjin and the band, it surprisingly didn't stir much attention, apart from a few curious remarks from their dedicated fandom. But secretly, no one knew the intense and electrifying past they shared. It wasn't that they were dating, nor could it be called friends with benefits; it was something deeper, a clandestine connection driven by raw, unrestrained pleasure.
As the evening progressed, Y/n sat on the stool, her eyes locked on Hyunjin as he laughed and mingled with the crowd. Her legs were crossed tightly, a subtle tension visible in her posture. She sipped her cocktail slowly, savoring the taste while her gaze pierced through the room, focusing intently on the man who unknowingly held her captive with his every move. As Y/n continued to sip her cocktail, her eyes couldn't help but wander to the way his dark hair was tied up in a casual half ponytail, perfectly complementing his grey button-up long sleeve shirt that subtly revealed his delicate torso. He moved with an effortless grace, the fabric of his shirt shifting slightly with each motion, hinting at the strength beneath. Paired with ripped, baggy blue jeans and classic Converse sneakers, his look was both relaxed and captivating, drawing Y/n's gaze like a magnet. She couldn't tear her eyes away, mesmerized by the combination of his highly look and style. Hyunjin chuckled as his eyes locked with Y/n's, but his gaze quickly shifted as a random girl tugged his arm forward. His smile glowed in the light, his hands sliding down to the girl's waist. A surge of jealousy coursed through Y/n. She stood up, determined to confront him, but froze as she saw him intimately touching and making out with the girl. Rage bubbled inside her, and she decided to retaliate. Spying a cute guy in the corner, she marched over and began a heated make-out session with him. Hyunjin's eyes darkened as he noticed. With a growl, he pushed the girl away, storming over to Y/n. He forcefully pulled her away from the guy, his grip firm as he dragged her outside to the back of the big house. The night air was cool, but the tension between them was palpable, sizzling with unresolved emotions and jealousy.
"Hey what the fuck Hyunjin? What's your problem?" Y/n scowled, "so your fucking other guys huh?" He questioned. "Like your one to talk." She rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, deadly with the conversation. "You know, I never realized a whore like you would go to someone after being bored off of my dick!" Hyunjin rages as Y/n just stood there completely advantage. "First of all, don't be putting your words into my fucking mouth hun. Maybe you should fucking reflect on your stupid actions and words before you come at me!" Y/n shouted back. "Don't even dare call me a whore when this is actually the first time I went towards another man besides you! The one that goes to one another women is you, Hyunjin. So don't sit here and call me something when all I've been doing is riding the same dick that other girls a riding!" Y/n screamed her head off as she points her fi her at the man. "I'm going home." Y/n rolled her eyes again, the weight of the argument still heavy on her heart. She turned away, determined to leave the night behind her. Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, knowing deep down that she was right about everything. "Babygirl, hold on," he called after her, desperation creeping into his voice. "I'm not your babygirl tonight," she shot back, tears welling up as she made her way to her car. The sight of her hurt him more than he could admit. "Come on, baby, I'm sorry," he pleaded, his heart racing as he sprinted to catch up with her. He reached out, grabbing her wrist gently, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers. Y/n paused, her back still turned to him, emotions swirling inside her. The tension hung thick in the air, and for a moment, time stood still. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Just talk to me."
Y/n took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she finally turned to face him. "What do you want me to say, Hyunjin? You were all over that girl!" Her voice trembled, a mix of anger and hurt spilling out. "I know, I messed up," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But it didn’t mean anything. You know that, right?" His eyes searched hers, hoping to find a glimmer of understanding. She shook her head, tears escaping down her cheeks. "It felt like it meant everything. You always do this, and I’m tired of it." Hyunjin stepped closer, his grip on her wrist softening. "I don’t want to lose you. I’ll prove it to you, just give me a chance." Y/n hesitated, the conflict within her raging. Could she trust him again? "You say that every time," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then let me show you," he urged, his gaze unwavering. "Let’s forget about tonight. Just us. No distractions." She searched his eyes, her heart aching for the connection they once had. Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other. "Okay," she finally said, her voice steadier. "But this is your last chance." Hyunjin smiled softly, relief flooding through him. "I won’t let you down, I promise."
Hyunjin leaned in, giving her a soft kiss as his hands planted on the side of her cheek. Y/n held dearly onto the side of his shirt as she kissed back with passion. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that tender moment. The warmth of his lips against hers sent shivers down her spine, and she could feel his heartbeat racing in sync with her own. As their kiss deepened, Hyunjin's hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer. Y/n responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. Their breaths grew heavier, the intensity of their kiss igniting a fire between them. Hyunjin’s fingers traced the curve of her back, sending electric tingles through her skin. Y/n’s hands moved up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as their kiss became more fervent. Breaking the kiss for a moment, Hyunjin's eyes bore into hers, filled with a mix of desire and affection. "I need you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice husky. Y/n's heart raced at his words, and she could feel the heat rising between them. "I'm yours, Hyunjin," she replied breathlessly, before capturing his lips once more in a searing kiss. They were lost in each other, the passion between them undeniable and all-consuming. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them and the love they shared.
Hyunjin’s breath was hot against Y/n’s ear as he whispered, "I need you, Y/n." His voice was thick with desire, sending a shiver down her spine. She could feel the intensity of his need mirrored in her own racing heartbeat. "I'm yours, Hyunjin," she replied breathlessly, before capturing his lips once more in a searing kiss. The world outside their embrace ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them entwined in a dance of passion and longing. Hyunjin’s hands roamed freely, exploring the curves of her body with a hunger that made her pulse quicken. His touch was both gentle and demanding, igniting a fire within her that she could no longer contain. Y/n’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening their kiss until it felt like they were sharing the same breath. As their bodies pressed together, the heat between them grew unbearable. Hyunjin’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses that made her gasp. His hands slid under her shirt, his touch sending electric tingles through her skin. "Y/n," he murmured against her collarbone, his voice a mix of urgency and tenderness. "I want you so much it hurts." Y/n’s response was a soft moan of agreement, her body arching into his touch. She could feel every inch of him, the hard planes of his chest, the strength in his arms, and it only fueled her desire. "Take me, Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. With a growl of need, Hyunjin lifted her, carrying her to the nearest flat surface. Their kisses grew more frantic, their movements more desperate as they gave in to the overwhelming desire that consumed them. In that moment, they were lost to everything but each other, their love a blazing inferno that threatened to consume them whole.
Y/n's pulse quickened as Hyunjin's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his touch sent shivers down her spine. Every caress, every kiss fueled the growing desire between them. With a hunger that matched her own, Hyunjin's hands roamed over her body, igniting a primal need within her. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and longing that seemed to transcend time and space. As the room filled with the sound of their shared breaths and whispered words of longing, Y/n felt a wave of ecstasy wash over her. In that moment, nothing else existed except the intoxicating connection between them, a bond that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second. Their desires intertwined, a symphony of pleasure and yearning that reached a crescendo as they gave in to the irresistible pull drawing them closer. In each other's arms, they found a sanctuary, a place where their souls met in a fiery embrace. Y/n felt the heat radiating between them as Hyunjin pressed her against the wall, their bodies tangled in a frenzy of passion. His hands explored her curves, fingers tracing the lines of her body with a mix of urgency and reverence. "Tell me what you want," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I want you, Hyunjin," she breathed back, her voice thick with desire. The need in her words ignited something primal in him, and he captured her lips in a fierce kiss, pouring all his longing into that single moment. As he deepened the kiss, Y/n could feel the world around them fading away, leaving only the intoxicating connection that bound them together. Every touch, every kiss was electric, and she could feel the tension building, a delicious ache that begged to be released. Hyunjin's hands moved lower, teasingly grazing her thighs, and she gasped, pulling him closer. "Please," she whispered, her heart racing with anticipation.
Hyunjin chuckled, slowly lifting up her skirt, "My baby is impatient." He licked his lips before rubbing softly on her wet cloth underneath. The teasing touch sent shivers down her spine, her body responding instantly to his skilled fingers. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr that made her heart race. His touch was both gentle and insistent, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She could feel the heat building, her body aching for more of his touch. As he continued his teasing, Hyunjin's eyes never left hers, the intensity in his gaze making her feel completely exposed and utterly desired. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and she found herself arching into his touch, silently begging for him to take her further. Hyunjin's fingers danced over her sensitive skin, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that drove her wild. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, "I love seeing you like this, so needy for me." Her breath hitched as he increased the pressure, his fingers moving with more urgency. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Hyunjin, please," she gasped, her voice trembling with desire. He smiled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. "Patience, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. "I want to savor every moment." His words only heightened her arousal, and she felt a deep, aching need for him to fulfill the promise of his touch. With a sudden, fluid motion, he removed the barrier between them, his fingers now sliding directly against her heated skin. The sensation was exquisite, and she moaned softly, her body trembling with pleasure. Hyunjin's movements were confident and precise, each touch bringing her closer to the edge. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I could watch you all night." His words sent a thrill through her, and she felt herself teetering on the brink of ecstasy, completely at his mercy.
He slid his fingers beneath the fabric of her clothing, igniting a fire within her that had been smoldering for far too long. The moment his fingertip teased her, she gasped, the sound escaping her lips like a plea. "Hyun," she moaned softly, the tension between them reaching a fever pitch. With a devilish grin, Hyunjin expertly explored her body, his fingers dancing over her sensitive skin. Each movement was deliberate, designed to elicit the sweetest sounds from her. The world around them faded away, leaving only the rhythm of their breaths and the symphony of her gasps as he pushed her closer to the edge. Y/n was lost in a haze of pleasure, her mind a whirlwind of sensations that blurred the lines of reality. As his fingers moved in and out of her with increasing urgency, she clutched at his hair, needing something to hold onto as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. "F-Fuckkk, Hyun faster, please!" she begged, her voice a mixture of desperation and desire. Hyunjin's smirk widened, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her unravel beneath his touch. He quickened his pace, reveling in the way her body responded to him. "Oh oh oh!" she cried, the sound echoing in the room as her orgasm built to an unbearable crescendo. When she finally reached her peak, it was as if the world had exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her head fell back against the wall, her legs trembling as he continued to work his fingers within her, prolonging her bliss until she cried out in sensitivity. The sight of her unraveling was a feast for Hyunjin, and he savored every moment. As she caught her breath, Hyunjin stood before her, the remnants of her pleasure glistening on his fingers. He brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied grin. "You taste good, baby," he purred, his voice dripping with seduction. "Now let's get to my turn." Y/n's gaze dropped, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of his hardening cock, a promise of what was to come. She knew this was just the beginning of a night filled with exploration and ecstasy. With a boldness that surprised even herself, she sank to her knees, ready to take him in.
Her lips wrapped around his cock as she begans to Bob her head up and down. Meanwhile, Hyunjin had a fistful of her hair tightly wrapped into his hand, his groans and moans were all coming out of his mouth. Y/n's skilled tounge swirling and sucking the tip of his cock as she kisses his ball sack. Hyunjin groans again, the shivers that silent creep up his body while he watches in awe at the scene of his baby sucking him off. "Oh fuck, baby- yes, just like that- ugh." He repeats over and over and over. She moans on his cock, Hyunjin felt the vibrations sending waves down. Hyunjin couldn't help but ramming his cock into her mouth. His hand still filled with her hair as he began to buckled up his pace into her mouth. The gag from how deep his tip was reaching at the back of her throat was allowed to be heard with moans. "Oh baby- this mouth! this mouth of yours!" He continues to moan. Hyunjin was on cloud 9. He was having the best suck off from his main women and still he knew all those women can never compare the mouth of Y/n's. "Im gon' cum, oh fuck I'm gonna cum!" He groans as he shoved her face down onto his cock while shooting his hot liquid into her mouth. Y/n slowly drinks it as some left overs were still dripping down her chin. "Good girl." Hyunjin lifted up her chin as Y/n's mouth opened revealing she drunk all of the cum that was shot into her mouth. "Now let's give you your reward." He smiled.
Y/n leaned in front of the house wall as Hyunjin settled behind. Jerking his tip a bit before entering into her womb. He begans to slide his tip into her core as she begans to moan. Now fully entered in, he begans to buckled his hip. The fast past that was settling in was beginning to make Y/n moan louder. The louder it got the faster the pace was getting. Hyunjin held onto Y/n hair while fucking her from behind. "Hyu- ughhhh!" She groaned as she continues, "Oh fuck just like that omg!" She moans and moans, each one getting louder every second. "You like that? You like how deep I go?" Hyunjin asked with a devilish tone. Y/n moaned out the yes as a reply to his question. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum!" Y/n screams, Hyunjin chuckles as he makes his ramming a faster pace then before. Y/n moaning loudly to the point where it's a bit over the music now, Hyunjin's intense groaning and moans from how good she would tight around him. Hyunjin could live with this for eternity but as he was in his thoughts, Y/n screamed as she released her orgasm. Hyunjin groaned from her tightness but soon came to his end after. Hyunjin painted her core with his hot semen. Y/n soon flopped down to the ground as she continues to catch her breath and soon following behind was Hyunjin himself. Holding on her as he kissed her neck softly leaving some remarks there. "That was amazing." Hyunjin sighed to himself as Y/n replies, "sure is. Let's not get jealous with one another huh?" She looked over cupping his face. "Agreed." He smiled giving her one last kiss before helping her put her clothes back on.
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A/N : I'm so tired😭 this has been in my drafts for a month now, but I really hope you enjoy. I added some finished touches to the story. But here is my first smut book.
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hopelesswrites · 2 months ago
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Music Boyfriend part 1
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.
Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.
Eddies POV
Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.
“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.
“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”
Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.
Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.
“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”
Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.
The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.
Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”
He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.
Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.
After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.
“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could
“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.
“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.
“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.
The answer was obvious.
-
Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.
“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.
Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.
“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.
He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.
“Out! Now!”
Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.
“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.
“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.
Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.
If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).
Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.
Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.
“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.
“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?
“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.
“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”
Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.
“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”
Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.
“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.
“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.
“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.
“Does he always talk to you like that?”
The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”
Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.
Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.
“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.
“And treat your staff better”
Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”
Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.
“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.
“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.
“To your place”
Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?
“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.
“Am I fired?”
The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?
“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.
-
She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.
“My Dads on a trip and my Moms working a late shift, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.
She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.
“Where’s the beer?”
The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”
“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.
“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”
“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”
He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”
“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”
Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.
“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.
“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”
“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”
Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.
“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”
“Not really”
Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”
The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.
“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.
“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.
Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.
This was fucking bad.
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rapunzelbro · 4 months ago
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The Act of Stealing a Loved One |3| (Stanley Pines x Reader)
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Hi y'all! I am overwhelmed by the amount of love this fanfiction is getting. Thank you so much, I am glad y'all love it and hope you enjoy it!
Story Guide
Why the hell was he doing this? Maybe it was to try and make up for all that he did to his brother, or maybe it was to attempt to not let Ford ruin something good that finally came into his life. Whatever the reason was, Stan was putting fake glasses on, wearing an outfit similar to what his nerdy brother would wear, he was going to the show. He was going to see you perform.
“God why does he dress so dorky” Stan muttered in annoyance as he looked himself over in the mirror. He adjusted the glasses that sat awkwardly on the bridge of his nose and grabbed the poster before heading out to his car. He drove off to where the show was taking place, in somebody’s basement.
“Do you think he’s going to come tonight?” you muttered, looking at Gabs.
Their band was currently tuning their instruments and checking over equipment in the basement, preparing for the performance.. How the neighbors didn't complain was beyond you, they probably are used to this by now.
“Do you want the truth or for me to lie?” Gabs glanced at you with an annoyed look in her eye, sighing, she continued to tune her guitar “...I don't know why you're still with that bum. You invited him to how many shows now and he just wont show?” She rolled her eyes, directing her attention back towards you.
“He’s super busy, and I get that... His degree is super difficult, so I get it” You muttered, beginning to untangle some of the wires you shoved inside your bag in a hurry “..if he doesn't show tonight, I might just have to talk about where this relationship is going.. I really just don't get why he doesn't support me on this..” you mutter frowning slightly as you progress with the mess of wires
“If that's what you feel is best then do it, besides, you'll always have me and the band,” Gabs smiles softly at you placing her guitar down as she looks at the clock on the wall “Doors open in ten, maybe you'll see him before the show starts.. I'm hoping for his sake or I swear I will beat the absolute sh-”
“Gabs! You're not beating up my boyfriend” you laugh, gently shoving her “But I hope he’ll be there too..”
Stan was glad he got there when he did, considering the fact it was a basement show it was pretty packed. Parking was a bitch, so he ended up parking on the front lawn to which everyone else followed suit once they saw him do it.
“Ford, don't make me regret this…” he muttered getting out of the car before heading to the door. Ignoring the looks of everyone else, he stepped inside. The house smelt of cigarettes and booze, it was rather full at the moment with groups of people talking. It made Stan stick out like a sore thumb while he was trying to find you in the room.
“Holy shit! Ford you actually came!” He heard a female voice yell out before he was suddenly embraced. Looking to see who embraced him, he saw the girl from the photo on Ford's desk, it was you. Returning the hug Stan smiled “I apologize for missing your other shows I got too caug-” he was cut off by you kissing him, shutting him up completely.
Was this wrong? 100%. If Ford ever knew about this he would be in even deeper shit. But the way your soft lips felt against his rough ones pushed that thought aside. Your scent of vanilla, mixed with cigarettes was like a drug he craved. He couldn't get enough of it. You pulled away after a few seconds looking into his eyes smiling
“As much as I love your rambling, shush. I'm just glad you're here!” she said giddily as she wrapped her arms around his neck, the Vodka you tried hiding with a piece of strawberry gum, hitting his nose in the closeness.
“Noted. You look absolutely beautiful, now when do you perform?” Keep your cool Stanley shit!
“Oh I'm on after the first band! Ya know… There's rumors of some school scouting agent showing up tonight.. god can you imagine if it was true?” You smiled, a sparkle in your eyes as you speak “The band and I, in the big leagues..On tour never having to look back? That's the dream” you removed your hands from Stan’s neck
When you pulled away he turned his attention to your ensemble for the show. Your hair was done with brushed out curls, falling towards the low cut neckline of the red shirt you had on underneath the black leather jacket that completed the look.
How the actual hell did Ford score you?
No seriously how the hell.
“Regardless, we got a huge following now, the word got out about us all over campus and some parts of your school so whatever happens I don't give a shit. This is so fun!” you giggle, slightly tipsy from the shots you definitely didn't have earlier
“Whatever makes you happy, I'll support you” Stan smiled gently, squeezing your hand.
He hates that he just added fuel to the fire of lies he is making, but he didn't want to crush your dreams. Stan knows his brother was definitely not supportive of your music career, he knows that he would probably tell you to be more realistic, that's just how his brother was. Stan wishes that somehow, he would have been the one you met, he longed for someone exactly like you. Carefree, up for the thrill of not knowing what's next, and not giving a shit while doing it.
“And that's why I love you Ford” Y/n says, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Y/n! Come on, we have to figure out all our shit before we go on! You can make out with him later!” Jamie yelled out to you, holding up one of his drumsticks, pointing out at you
“Ugh, I'm coming! See you on stage lover boy” You kiss him one last time before running off with Jamie.
God he was down bad
Taglist @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment @boba-is-a-soup @bigteefsmallbrain @originalalienlawyershark @darlingdia1007 @kismogizmo @heysam09 @mottysith @fudosl
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heeseungiez · 1 month ago
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nothing i don’t have | pjs
part 1: the tall emo kid
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pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader
summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.
genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)
word count! 1.5k
content warnings! swearing, jay is delulu and jealous
author's note! toenze is my new roman empire... i don't think i'll ever shut up about it. also realistically i'm only posting this bc yolo since i have nothing ???
masterlist | next
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It didn’t affect Jay anyhow, really. That you ended whatever the two of you had for another guy. Like, this was all just casual. And you still wanted to be friends which was exactly what the two of you were before… so not much had to change between the two of you. Other than, well, the lack of physical intimacy.
He didn’t care, really. It wasn’t like you were the only girl he hooked up with (you were) or that he couldn’t get any other girls, but… you ending the situationship was kind of exactly why he liked you. Because you understood everything was casual and there were no expectations, no feelings. The others, they always got attached.
And, look, Jay understood that maybe he was being too nice or whatever, but it was in his nature to help out when necessary, or to cook for people in the morning — it wasn’t like he made breakfast only for those girls anyway. He had roommates to feed, too.
You ended the deal because you had no feelings for him. Which was exactly what he wanted. So why the fuck did it bother him so much? And for Huening Kai, no less? The tall emo kid that barely spoke and people thought he was being mysterious or whatever.
What could you possibly see in him?
What did he have that Jay didn’t?
Jay let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, eyes still fixated on the conversation between you and him. So Huening Kai asked you out. And you liked him enough to say yes. That was certainly not on his bingo card. Realistically, he thought the type of guys you liked were someone like Sung Hanbin or Choi Soobin or… him. Not Huening Kai. 
What the hell?
“What’s up? Someone steal your cat?” Heeseung entered the shared living room with a grin. Jay had to dryly laugh at the irony of his question since, in a way, yes.
“Nah. It’s Y/N,” Jay replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Wants to be just friends.”
“Damn, got tired of you already?” Heeseung teased, but he knew not to go further when Jay’s scathing glare nearly burned him. “What did she say?”
“Huening Kai asked her out and she said yes.” Jay shook his head. You and Kai weren’t even dating yet, and you already wanted to be exclusive with him? Why? Who even does that?
“Oh, Kai? He’s got music classes with me,” Heeseung said with a grin. “He knows how to play like five instruments. He’s kinda cool. A band kid, too. Pretty sure he has a band.” Jay didn’t need to know any of that. Not yet anyway. And then Heeseung added: “I think he was planning to ask Y/N out for a while. I caught him asking around about her once.”
Jay clenched his jaw. How long had you been talking to Kai before he asked you out? Was it out of nowhere or did you befriend him before? Which gave him another reason to be upset because if you did befriend him before, you didn’t tell Jay anything. In fact, you hadn’t been telling him anything about yourself or your life for a while now.
Which stung.
“Kai’s a good guy. You should be happy for her.” Heeseung made a point, giving Jay a long, meaningful look. There was more he wanted to express, but chose to not push his limits. 
Jay huffed.
Thinking about it, maybe he’d have actually preferred it if you were in love with him.
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Upon entering the Sanctuary Café, you noticed that it was already packed. But you were instantly recognised by Taehyun, who greeted you with a bright smile and led you toward a table that was empty, save for your reservation. It was in front of the stage set up for live performances, and it occurred to you then that Kai’s surprise was very likely just that. He prepared a performance for you.
Your eyes widened as you stared at the stage. It had a full instrument set up for a band. Drums, bass, keyboard and an electric guitar. The sight of it made you think of Jay for a bit, but you shook your head and got rid of the thought.
This would be your first date with Kai. The boy who actually doesn’t only want to sleep with you, but also wants to do everything else that real relationships include. Like holding hands and hugging in public and being affectionate without being judged. (The things you wished you could’ve had from Jay.)
A group of three guys entered the stage, none of which were Huening Kai. They glanced toward your table every now and then with a knowing smile, though. You watched them set up their instruments — the guitarist, the bassist and keyboardist. But the drums were empty. 
Because of course, he knew how to play the drums. He was a genius that never flaunted his skills, and the reality of it hit you just now. Huening Kai was a drummer — which was actually sexy as hell.
“Hello, everyone, welcome to the Sanctuary Café,” the guitarist spoke into the microphone with the largest smile. He had a cute dimple as well, and you thought he perfectly fit Kai — whenever he wasn’t closing in on himself. “I’m Kim Taerae, lead singer and guitarist of our band, Toenze. We’ve prepared a very special performance today because one of our members wants to dedicate it to a special girl.”
A round of awes went through the crowd. You looked around in hopes of catching a glance of Kai, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, your eyes locked with a person you did not expect to see today — at all.
Jay stood at the back of the café with Heeseung by his side, and you wished you could unsee him. Your heartbeat raced, and your mind felt like you needed to come up to him and apologise. But what would you even be apologising for?
“On my left is our bassist, Choi Beomgyu, and on the keyboard, you’ve got Han Yujin. And, of course, we’re missing a key member — the drummer,” Taerae spoke lightly, his smile hearable in his voice. “Some of you already know him from our previous performances, but for those who have yet to meet him — please give a round of applause to Huening Kai!”
Kai wasn’t even inside the café. He entered through the main door in a dark grey hoodie, the hood covering his face. The whole shop held its breath as he looked up. And when his eyes met yours, a smile spread across his lips. Taking off his hood, he revealed his face and carefully styled bangs. 
From the pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a bouquet, and when he aimed through the crowd toward you, your heart nearly melted. All thoughts of Jay being here, too, evaporated from your mind. All you could think about was Huening Kai, looking beautiful as ever, heading toward you with a bouquet of flowers.
“For you, my lady.” He knelt down to hand you the flowers, and you stared at him with wide eyes. Grinning, he winked before standing up and heading toward the stage, leaving you absolutely flustered and frozen in place.
“Hello, everyone! This performance is dedicated to the girl that didn’t reject me. It’s for you, Y/N,” he said into the mic jokingly, but there was a hidden meaning behind his words.
The memory of how he asked you out lingered, and you giggled. You could still picture him, approaching you with his hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans. And then he asked you, in the most embarrassing way possible, if you were dating Jay. The smile that spread on his lips when you said that what you had with Jay was only casual was an unforgettable sight, really.
“I can make you forget him,” was Kai’s closing argument, and the confidence with which he had said it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t possibly reject him then.
Jay’s glare was palpable. You could feel it at the back of your neck, but you ignored him. Why was he glaring at you anyway? If there were no feelings involved, he shouldn’t care about any of this. 
“The first song we prepared for today is called Higher Than Heaven,” Taerae informed the crowd. “And the second song is Kill the Romeo. Hope you guys like them!”
Both songs were amazing, and both conveyed one pretty clear message: I’m better than him. You couldn’t help but laugh and enjoy yourself while Kai’s band performed. They were good — really good. And eventually, you even stopped sensing Jay’s gaze burning through you. 
Naturally, you turned around to check on the spot where Jay had previously been. Except he wasn’t there. Instead, you were met with Heeseung, who shrugged when he noticed you looking at him.
“He left,” Heeseung mouthed.
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adrienneleclerc · 3 months ago
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Celebrity Crush
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles decided to buy concert tickets to The Driver Era since his girlfriend loves them. However, this will be the first time Charles witnesses how much Y/N LOVES Ross Lynch.
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: this fanfic will mainly serve as a way to get back into the flow of writing so I hope y’all like it. This is inspired by the way I get so feral and unhinged whenever a Ross Lynch concert edit shows up on my fyp
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Charles was on his laptop, sitting at the table in their hotel room while Y/N FaceTimed with her parents on the bed.
“Sí mami, ya tengo todos los regalos para mis primos….Cuando vas a (your mom’s country)?…Así que cuando charles y yo estamos en Nueva York, te doy los regalos, y luego vas planeando como empacar los regalos en la maletas…” Y/N told her mom.
Her and Charles were planning to go to New York before the Texas Grand Prix, their flight is next week. Luckily, Y/N’s favorite band, the Driver Era, just so happens to have a concert October 10, during the time they are in New York. So Charles being the wonderful boyfriend he is, is buying tickets. Luckily, there were still tickets available and they weren’t expensive at all. It wouldn’t even matter if they were expensive, he still would have bought them. Y/N hung up the phone as Charles looks up from his laptop.
“What did your mom want, Mon coeur?” Charles asked. Y/N pulled up a chair to sit next to Charles at the table.
“She wanted to know if I bought the gifts for my cousins. I swear, every time I travel with you for your races, she asks me to buy stuff for her side of the family. My dad…not so much since I dont talk to much to my cousins on his side. Are we going to fly straight to New York?” Y/N asked.
“Actually, love, the jet is already scheduled to take us to Monaco, I hope that’s okay.” Charles said.
“It’s okay, that’s good, actually, that way I can pack better outfits.” Y/N said, before kissing Charles. “The flight is tomorrow morning?”
“In the afternoon since it was a night race.” Charles said.
“Cool, I’ll brush my teeth then we can go to sleep. Or do you need to shower?” Y/N asked.
“I was thinking we could shower together.” Charles said with a little smirk. Y/N just nodded her head, giggling lightly.
“I mean it does save water.” Y/N said. Charles got up first, grabbing Y/N’s hand to lead her in the shower.
After their shower, Y/N blow dried Charles’s hair for him before she started her hair routine, also blow drying it because there’s no way in hell she is sleeping with wet hair. The next day, they ate, got dressed, and were ready to go to the airport.
As usual, Y/N slept on the flight to Nice, and with their New York flight being at night, they had time to get eat and finish packing their bags with extra clothes they needed for the trip. On their flight is where Charles thought it was time to break the news.
“Mon coeur, what do you plan on doing during our New York visit?” Charles asked. Y/N started wondering.
“I Don’t know, honestly. I just thought of visiting my mom before she goes visit my grandma, so I haven’t really thought of anything. We could go apple picking upstate, why do you ask?” Y/N asked.
“No reason, just wanted to make sure you’re free October 10th.” Charles said.
“What’s special about October 10th?” Y/N asked.
“Nothing really, just that I got 2 tickets to the driver era concert.” Charles and Y/N turned to face Charles.
“You’re kidding.” Y/N and Charles shook his head. “Ah! No way, I’m gonna see if my friend can come.”
“I thought we were going to go together.” Charles said and Y/N looks hesitant. “Why don’t you wanna go with me? I promise I won’t dance.”
“It’s not that it’s just…are you sure you want to go? It’s not your scene.” Y/N said.
“We’re going.” Charles said.
“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Y/N said.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with him, but the concerts end with Ross Lynch being shirtless and all the fangirls losing their minds. So when the concert rolls around, they’re waiting on line and there were two girls talking in front of them.
“I also excited, do you think he will wear a tank top and rip it off like last time or do you think he’ll be wearing a button down?” Girl 1 asked
“Who cares, he’s gonna end up shirtless anyway. But I love Rocky, he’s such a vibe.” Girl 2 said.
“Who’s going to end up shirtless, Mon coeur?” Charles asked.
“Oh you’ll see soon enough, muñeco.” Y/N said, patting his back.
The venue doors are open and everyone started walking in, Y/N went to the merch table, holding Charles’s hand so he doesn’t get lost in the crowd because it is a small venue, she decided on buying the t-shirt that said “Ross’s Girlfriend” (which I really wanted but I couldn’t get) and Charles decided on a shirt that had the band name in the front and tour dates in the back. Charles paid for the merch and they got to the floor after Y/N put new shirt on over her outfit.
“You really like Ross, huh?” Charles asked.
“You have no idea. He’s been my celebrity crush since he was on disney channel.” Y/N explained, Charles just nodded. “Thank you for buying the tickets, muñeco, really.” Y/N kissed Charles and pulled away as soon as she heard the introduction of the band.
When “Natural” started playing, Ross took off his shirt, Y/N was staring at him, completely mesmerized by the way Ross moved and interacted with his brother, Rocky. Charles recorded Ross and Rocky singing and then panned to Y/N’s reaction. Charles was liking the music but he believed Y/N sung “when you need a man” a little too loudly. Overall, they enjoyed the concert, Y/N more than Charles obviously, they were walking to the car and once they got in, Y/N asked.
“Did you have fun?” Charles looks at Y/N.
“Of course I do, Mon coeur, watching you enjoy your favorite band perform makes me so happy. I’m glad I got to do this with you.” Charles said, kissing her. “I just didn’t know you were so in love with the blonde guy.”
“I’m sorry, muñeco, but he’s 6’1, Can sing, dance, and there’s the nostalgia factor. You know I’m your number one fan.” Y/N said, making reference to one of their songs.
“And im yours.” Charles replied.
“Hey, do you think we can hit a drive thru or something, I’m hungry.” Y/N asked.
“Sure thing. Are there any other celebrity crushes I should be aware of?” Charles asked,
“Musician wise? No. Actor wise? There’s Jensen Ackles and Dylan O’Brien, that’s it.” Y/N said.
“Interesting. There’s no way to meet them, right?” Charles asked.
“Unless you are willing to drop about 2 grand on a Supernatural convention in Jersey. Why Jersey?” Y/N asked.
“It’s not that much money.” Charles said.
“Muñeco, that’s awfully sweet of you but this show ended in 2020 and they are still holding conventions for it. Plus I checked before, the Jensen Ackles photo ops are already sold out.” Y/N pouted,
“Maybe next time, Mon ange.” Charles said.
“You would really spend money so I could meet my celebrity crushes?” Y/N asked.
“If it makes you happy, I would bring you the moon.” Charles said,
“I love you.” Y/N said.
“I love you too. Now let’s go get you some chicken nuggets and fries.” Charles said.
“And a milkshake.” Y/N said.
“And a milkshake.” Charles replied before driving off to the nearest fast food drive thru.
The End
Was it stupid? Yes, but did I like writing it? Also yes. Hope y’all liked it!
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I love this man, sorry not sorry, had to include him
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bgomtori · 10 months ago
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☆ lover's rock - c.bg
synopsis - love wasn't something you believed in until you bumped into him while listening to your favourite band.
-> music major! beomgyu x art major! reader
-> love a first sight, college au!, artist x muse
-> warnings! slowburn, yn's dense, makeout session.
-> note! after i heard that beomgyu listens to cas, i screamed, my fav person and one of my fav bands :' also gyu day!! his birthday is literally 4 days before mine, i think it's fate 😂 jokes💀 hope you guys enjoy this :>
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art, something that is enjoyed by many in various ways, through music, paintings or even poems. personally, you enjoyed art through your paintings, the ability to express yourself on a canvas with multiple hues of colours was fascinating to you, along with the soothing melody of music playing in the background. your mind wanders off as you immerse yourself in the current art project you had, your wrist moving slowly while you sketch on your prep board.
the library was quiet as usual, all types of students from different majors all gathered in one area to study or rush last minute work. you snapped yourself back into reality, aimlessly staring at the artpiece infront of you, your eyes feeling strained and dry, unable to keep itself open. that was your cue to pack up and leave, you stretched your aching body, slinging your bag over your shoulders as you left the library, placing your headphones over your ears, turning up the volume slowly, paying no attention to the surrounding area around you.
"ow, sorry." a voice sounded louder than what played in your headphones, you removed them, trying to be polite to the person you accidentally bumped into. "it's fine, i should have paid more attention to my surroundings." you bowed, before bending down to pick up your phone that was knocked away from your grasp.
"you listen to cigarettes after sex too?" you could hear the joy behind the male's voice, clearly thrilled to find out that a person listens to the same band as him. you nodded your head, "you like them too?"
"yea of course! i've been listening to them since they released their first album." he smiled, his eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit hallway you were standing in. "that's cool, what's your name? maybe we can talk more."
"beomgyu, choi beomgyu. how about you? i've seen you around the art building before." he replied, shooting the question back at you, "yn, hope to see you around next time." you smiled at him, wanting to leave already.
"wait, what's your number? you seem cool, i mean you are cool especially since you listen to cas. i just want to talk to someone like you." beomgyu stuttered, his face turned away from you as he held his phone towards you, displaying the contact list to you. you laughed softly, typing in your number, along with your name and an emoji.
"text me anytime, i'll try my best to reply." you waved, leaving a stranded beomgyu in the middle of a dark hallway, his eyes never leaving your disappearing figure. without even noticing, his lips tugged up into a smile, finally someone he could relate to, he could already feel the connection between the both of you. call him crazy, but he thinks that you would be best friends by the end of the semester.
and that dream became a reality. all starting from a text message from beomgyu, sending you a playlist he created of his favourite songs from all his favourite bands. something as little as a playlist warmed your heart, who would actually take the time and effort to create a playlist for a stranger they barely knew. and this was the starting point of your everlasting friendship. the way that he would often make his way to the art studio, despite his music studio being a 10 minutes away from it, he is willing to walk that distance for you, with your favourite drink in hand.
"you're class ended 15 minutes ago, how are you here so fast?" you opened the door for beomgyu, letting him into the art studio, locking it in the process. beomgyu stared at the current piece you were working in, completely awed by how pretty the artwork was.
"you're so good at this." ignoring your previous question, placing his bag down on the ground, taking a seat beside your canvas. you sighed, knowing beomgyu would never reveal the reason why he's always so quick to find you.
"have you listened to their latest single?" beomgyu asked, scrolling through his playlist, specifically made for music of his taste. you shook your head, "i didn't even know that they released a new song." beomgyu looked at you as if you grew another head.
"you're missing out, oh my god." beomgyu gasped, immediately playing the song, 'bubblegum.' by cas. a familiar yet different sounding melody filled your eardrums as you listened intently to the song beomgyu was showing you.
"it's nice." you found yourself humming to the lyrics, sketching on the canvas that was infront of you. "right, they never disappoint." beomgyu agreed, trying to find another song to add to the queue.
"gyu–" beomgyu looked up at the sound of his voice, his eyes blinking at you slowly, waiting for you to complete your sentence, "why, don't you talk to your other friends about music?" it has been a question on your mind ever since you've became friends with beomgyu, you've noticed how he doesn't talk much about his interest and taste in music to the guys compared to when he is with you.
"oh." his response was dry, making you think that you've said something hurtful.
"uhm, i didn't mean it, i guess it's slightly insensitive, forget that i asked that." you stammered, your face getting warm due to the embarrassment you were facing.
"you didn't say anything wrong, don't worry." he reassured, giving you a small smile.
"it's just that they don't share the same taste as me, so i can't really talk to them about my passion and interest in music. it's fine though! i've finally met you, so i'm alright with that." beomgyu admitted, his eyes practically glowing under the bright light in the art studio. your heart raced, butterflies filling your stomach, how cute could he be to make you feel like this. you've never believed that love was something for you, every single person you've liked has rejected you, clearly beomgyu wouldn't be any different.
"when is this due?" beomgyu questioned, his finger tapping on your canvas.
"in 2 weeks, why?" your head tilting in confusion as beomgyu's lips tugged into a mischievious smirk, "let's dip, you still have plenty of time to complete that."
"what? no. i need to–"
"no you don't, let's go to a vinyl shop, i know a place." beomgyu grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your seat. you screeched, telling him to wait, since your things were scattered around the studio. beomgyu chuckled, releasing your wrist, watching you frantically pack everything into your bag.
"i hate you." you grumbled, glaring at beomgyu while locking the door to your art studio. beomgyu laughed, his hand landing atop your head, stroking your hair, "quit grumbling, let's go."
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
"what took you so long?" you removed a side of your earbud, looking up at beomgyu who was staring at your with an apologetic look on his face. "i've not been to the campus's library in months, so i kinda got lost.." his eyes averting your gaze, cheeks warming up due to the embarrassment. you laughed at him softly, patting the seat beside you.
"do you always come to the library on your free time?" beomgyu whispered, placing his bag on the ground, grabbing his laptop at the same time. you nod your head, fingers quickly typing out the 5000 word essay that was due the following day. beomgyu frowned, noticing how you have yet to give him any attention from the moment he sat down beside you.
beomgyu sighed into the palm of his hand, pushing his chair closer to yours, your shoulders coming into contact with one another, knees brushing against each other's occassionally. you could feel beomgyu's eyes burning holes into your soul, causing you to turn to face him, unaware of how close you guys were. your eyes widened, along with his, your face about a centimeter away from his. lips barely touching, his hot breath fanning against your face, eyes boring into yours.
"sorry.." beomgyu coughed, turning away from you, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"it's fine." you choked out, still thinking about what just happened, unable to think straight, you hastily finished your essay, not caring on whether it was perfect or not, and switched your laptop off.
"let's go to the vinyl store, i need more vinyls." you packed your bags, trying your best not to look into beomgyu's eyes, knowing that you'll instantly malfunction under his gaze. however, just as you had that thought in mind, beomgyu grabbed onto your wrist, making you pause your actions.
"wait, i have something for you." beomgyu removed his grip from your wrist, pulling a small box from his bag, placing it in your hand.
"open it." he whispered, eyes looking at the box and back at you, excited for you to open up the surprise gift he bought for you. you untied the cute little ribbon on the box before lifting up the lid of the tiny box, only to see a cute bracelet staring back at you, the star-shaped charm gleaming prettily, it's colours so plain yet so charming.
"it's pretty." was all your said, but beomgyu has known you long enough to understand that you don't talk that much when you see something you like so much, but your express it through your body language and facial expression. he could see the way your eyes lit up, ane how your lips tugged up to a slight smile without noticing. beomgyu grinned, watching as you slipped the bracelet on your wrist.
"let's go?" you asked, snapping beomgyu out of his daze.
"yea sure." his hands grabbing onto yours, acting as if he doesnt care, but his mind was a hectic mess. he could see your clueless expression through his peripheral vision, doe eyes staring at his hand on yours. beomgyu swore that his heart was going to jump out any moment, his ears turning to a soft hue of read, you were definitely going to be the death of him.
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time flies whenever you're with beomgyu, without even realising it has already been months since your first interaction. by this time, you've finally grown accustomed to your growing feelings for the male, from his appearance to his passion in music, everything about him was perfect. even your friends caught on to your lovesick ways, also talking to beomgyu from time to time just to see if he was suitable for you, only for them to say that you're dense. you couldn't even believe soobin when he told you that beomgyu hasn't been like this around his past lovers, lies, was what you told soobin, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded, just to see soobin shaking his head, telling you that it's true.
every now and then, beomgyu would invite you over to his dorm if he's too lazy to go over to yours, and behind closed doors, blocking out the noise happening in the living room due to the boys loud yelling, the both of your just listened to your shared playlist in silence. it may not seem like much, but this activity calms you down, resting your head against the bed frame while beomgyu lays on his pillow, scrolling through his phone.
lovers rock, the song you recommended him since the start of your friendship. the sound of the electric guitar slowly fading into the quiet atmosphere, your fingers subconsciously tap against your phone to the beat, humming along with the melody.
"look at this tiktok, it reminds me of us." beomgyu chuckled, his arm extended to show you the cute tiktok on his phone. you took some time to process that he was trying to show you something before turning your head towards his phone, "oh my god, stop shaking." you grumbled, grabbing onto his phone, your hand laying on top of his.
the video contained two cats hugging each other as they had earbuds in their ear, listening to music, perfectly picturing the exact event happening right now. your stomach felt funny, biting your lips as you fought back the largest smile ever. "yea, that's us." you giggled, this feeling was euphoric, the way your smile is immediately reciprocated makes you feel like you've won a marathon, how this man has you completely wrapped around his finger...
beomgyu hummed, a hint of joy hidden behind his voice as he turned to his side to face the wall. your eyes flickered onto beomgyu's figure, your body slowly edging towards him unconsciously.
"hmm?" beomgyu sounded, feeling your head pressing against his back, you forcefully pushed his head away, preventing him to look at you, "i'm tired." you yawned, wrapping your arm around his waist loosely, growing more comfortable against his warmth. beomgyu could hear his own heartbeat, loud and clear, afraid that you could hear it too. your eyes fluttered close, on the verge of falling asleep.
"yn." beomgyu called, his body shifted around to face you, you looked up at him groggily, waiting for him to say something. beomgyu's mouth turned dry, completely forgetting the words that he wanted to tell you.
"ah, forget it, rest well." swallowing the lump in his throat, he watched as you nodded your head, falling back to sleep. he stared at the wall behind you in frustration, his mind only filled with thoughts of you, and how he was going to confess to you.
ever since he told his friends about his undying love for you, all they did was to push him into confessing because he'd be a pussy if he didn't, and to convince his friends that he isn't one, he has to tell you soon. currently, his phone was raided with a bunch of notifications from his group chat, all of them asking when he was going to tell you.
heeseung : stop pussying it, just say it.
beomgyu : it's not that simple 😐 and she's asleep right now
jeongin : you had all the time in the world to say it just now, and you wasted it.
beomgyu : ok shut up, maybe later.
"so fucking annoying.." he groaned softly, turning his phone off, staring off into the distance again.
"what's annoying?" you yawned a question, woken up by beomgyu's rapid typing and groans in annoyance from earlier. beomgyu looked at you in shock, praying that you didn't see any of the messages he exchanged with his friends.
"ah, nothing." beomgyu shrugged it off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"yn, i have something to tell you." he suddenly sat up, causing you to flinch, "what is it?" following his actions.
"do you believe in love at first sight?" the sudden question about love caught you off guard, you played around with the bracelet beomgyu previoudly gave you, unable to come up with a response. your silence made beomgyu nervous, was it too random? he stared off to the side of his room.
"i didn't believe it at first, but i guess i think it's possible." you replied, the back of your neck feeling warmer by the second, afraid that you'd accidentally slip out a confession. beomgyu looked at you as if you grew two heads, he knew you weren't fond of love, and would much rather focus on your future art career. he was slightly curious, and extremely jealous of this person who managed to steal your heart.
"who?"
"who..?"
"who is this person that changed your mind." his tone sounding harsher than he intended to, maybe becausr he didn't want to lose you to any other guy who didn't deserve you. your throat was dry, it was to either tell him the truth or lie about your feelings for him. however, you didn't want to miss out on this opportunity, i mean what could be worse than getting rejected in his own dorm. you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, licking your lips,
"you."
"what?"
"it's you, ever since you bumped into me when i was making my way out of the library." you confessed, feeling yourself crumble, knowing that beomgyu is watching you intently. on the other hand, beomgyu didn't believe his ears, his mind going haywire at the thought that you liked him back, not even paying attention to your rambling.
"i don't know if this is the right time to confess, i mean i guess it was just the heat of the moment.. i'm sorry if i made you uncomf–" your eyes widened at the sudden contact on your lips, slowly blinking to register the situation that's happening. what felt like fireworks in your stomach, your eyes naturally closed, reciprocating the kiss, your hand placed on top of beomgyu's, slightly gripping onto it. beomgyu smiled into the kiss, his free hand landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him.
beomgyu pulled away, causing you to whine, wanting more. beomgyu couldn't help but giggle at how desperate you were.
"more.." you sighed out, wrapping your arms around beomgyu's neck, tilting your head as you connected your lips against his. his lips tasted like strawberries, his favourite fruit, and also the chapstick that he steals from your occassionally, he was perfect. you pulled away, catching your breath, placing your forehead against beomgyu's.
"guess we picked the best song to kiss to." beomgyu chuckled, you quirked your eyebrow, not understanding what he meant, until you heard what the lyrics meant. you giggled, nuzzling your head into beomgyu's neck.
"it's perfect."
she might wanna kiss
before the end of this song..
perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @mrsyawnzzn @tinyelfperson @woncheecks @boba-beom @naveries @be-argyu @defnotleee
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