#but i stopped playing when he had to go to the apartment with the guitar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gurugirl · 1 year ago

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Next Door Neighbors

Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little 🎈 Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat 🎈xoxo

Word Count: 7.8k

Warning: 18+ only, smut

It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. You’d hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heart’s content.

It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And you’d finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.

On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, “I’m just gonna stay in I think. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.”

You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.

Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.

You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book you’d been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.

That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.

The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighbor’s home and couldn’t see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.

You didn’t want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.

Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. You’d give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.

You’d only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.

You didn’t know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.

But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.

But you’d had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighbor’s house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing – one with a guitar and another with a bass.

You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.

“Hi. You’re the new neighbor,” he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.

You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man you’d seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimples…

“Uh… yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.” You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, “I was hoping you guys could–“

Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, “We’re in the middle of something here in case you didn’t see.”

“Hey… chill. Don’t be rude man,” the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, “What were you saying? Sorry.”

You shifted on your feet, “I was wondering if you guys could keep it down. It’s so loud and it’s all I can hear while I’m trying to read.”

The guy with the bass guitar spoke, “Oh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.”

Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, “Let’s call it a night guys. That’s enough.”

The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, “I’m Harry.”

You smiled and placed your palm against his, “Y/n.”

The drummer came up beside Harry, “Today’s his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry… you–“

“Don’t worry about it. We had a good hour. I’m beat anyway. Long week at work.”

The bassist gave Harry a side hug, “I’m gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.”

“Oh. I should leave. I’m really sorry again,” you waved as you began to back away.

But Harry stepped in toward you, “Stick around for a minute okay?”

The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.

“I’m sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And it’s your birthday too? I’ll… do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apology…”

Harry grinned at you and shook his head, “Mind if I come with you? I’d love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.”

You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.

“Yeah. Of course, Harry.” You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.

“This is the backyard. I’m gonna put in some flowers over there,” you pointed, “And maybe do something with the porch at some point.”

Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isn’t that what they say?

“Kitchen,” you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.

“It’s nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “It’s one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.”

“I bet it does,” he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.

“Over here is the bedroom,” you flipped on the switch, “It’s got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.” You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, “Another bathroom, here,” and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, “And at some point, I’ll furnish this. It’ll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.”

You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.

“Thank you, for showing me around.”

You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.

“Of course. Um… do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?”

That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, “Sorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.”

Harry shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,” he took a sip of his wine.

“How old are you today?” You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.

“30,” he sighed, “Grown adult officially.” He smiled.

You laughed at his remark and nodded, “Yes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. That’s my belief as well.”

You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.

“So, you’re a musician?” You raised your brows.

He shook his head and chuckled, “Well, I like to sing and play instruments. I’m not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.”

You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, “Oh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didn’t have to get real jobs,” you laughed, “What do you do for work?”

“I’m an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. It’s hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.”

You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didn’t hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasn’t just his upper body that was well-muscled.

You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. You’d been caught checking him out. You hadn’t meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but… well. Here you were.

“And what do you do, Y/n?”

Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.

“I’m the general manager at SpendCo,” you laughed and shrugged, “Not a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,” you gestured your hand around the kitchen.

“My job’s not fancy either,” Harry laughed, “But yeah. It’s steady work. A good paycheck.”

You nodded. You could relate in some ways. You’d gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.

“Wanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, I’ve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.”

“Yeah. Let’s break that couch in, Y/n,” Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.

Oh?

You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.

You didn’t have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, “We’ll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.”

Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, “Can I put on some music?”

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.

“Like Chris Isaak?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.

“Yeah… I think. I’ve heard this song before anyway,” you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.

Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.

“So where did you live before you moved in here?”

You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, “In an apartment over in Roger’s Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but still…” you laughed.

“Oh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Roger’s Park… but that was like five years ago.”

You peeked at him with your brows raised, “Yeah? You lived in Roger’s Park too? What area?”

“Off Grand near the big bus terminal.”

“Wait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?”

Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, “Yes. Shit. Is that where you lived?”

“It is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.”

Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, “No fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,” he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.

You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, “That’s wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?”

Harry laughed, “Seems quite unlikely in such a big city.”

You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.

“You okay?” Harry’s pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.

“Yeah. Why?”

Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, “You’re biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous or something.”

You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, “No. I’m not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.”

Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.

“So… um…” you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.

“So, um… What? What were you gonna say?”

You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.

“I don’t…” you shook your head, “Forgot what I was gonna say.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.

“I like this sweater,” he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.

“My aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,” you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldn’t see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.

He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?”

Your eyes widened, “Oh no. This is nice. I… I’m okay. Honestly.”

“Okay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s making you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, “No. You’re great. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable.” You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.

He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, “I see.”

You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, “So, um… can I ask you a personal question?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or…?”

Your brows raised upward, “Oh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,” you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, “And, uh… you? Significant other?”

A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, “Nope.” He popped the p as he responded.

You nodded and looked down at the hand that he’d placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him… He was so close you could smell the soap he used.

“Mmm…” you racked your brain to think of anything to say, “How long have you lived here?”

He licked his lips again, “Five years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.”

You smiled, “So that means I moved in right after you moved out.”

Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”

“Yeah. Guess so,” you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.

“Am I overstepping?”

You shook your head and looked up at him.

“No? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?”

Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.

“No, it’s not too much? Or no you don’t want me to kiss you?”

You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, “No, it’s not too much.”

The smile on Harry’s face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, “It’s okay then? You don’t mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?”

That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, “I’d like that I think.”

Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, “Last chance to say no.”

You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, “Kiss me.”

The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes… But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.

And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.

Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.

You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.

But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them open…

Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.

He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.

You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard.

“Fuck. You still good?” He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.

You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.

Harry’s hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.

He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.

You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it… you craved it. The feel of a man’s breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.

Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.

When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

“Did I hurt you?” You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.

He shook his head, “No. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.”

You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.

“You wanna help?” He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.

The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.

Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harry’s, “God, Harry.”

“What?” His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.

You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.

“It’s…” you looked back up at him, “It’s nice.”

Harry breathed out a laugh, “Nice? Why thank you.” He grinned.

But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harry’s feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.

Harry was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you weren’t wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.

He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.

You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.

It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didn’t know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.

You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.

With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.

You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.

Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.

Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.

Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.

Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.

“Still good, Y/n?” He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.

You nodded, “I’m good.”

Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.

When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.

You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.

His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.

He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.

And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didn’t feel real.

“So fucking hot, Y/n…” he whispered against your lips, “Made me so hard.”

You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.

He moaned and parted from this kiss, “You’re all wet.” He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. “You like that?”

You nodded with a moan.

“Yeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?”

You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.

Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, “Okay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?”

You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.

His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.

“I want it. Want to feel it, Harry.” You looked at him as you pumped him again.

He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.

“Do you have a condom?”

You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.

Shaking your head no you frowned.

Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, “S’okay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.”

You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.

Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, “What’s wrong?”

You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, “I wanted to feel you so bad.”

He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.

“Well I would hate to disappoint you,” he grinned, “Want to go to mine? I’ve got condoms. We’ll just have to put some clothes back on.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.

Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.

“Guess that’s good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?”

You laughed and nodded, “Was a good first use for it I think.”

Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing you’d had to put back on.

But you knew it was going to be worth it.

Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, “You still want this?”

You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.

You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.

“So slippery, Y/n.” You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.

A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.

He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.

You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.

Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, “Do want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?”

You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.

“I want your cock,” your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.

“Yeah? A greedy little thing aren’t you?” Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, “So desperate for it,” he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, “Couldn’t wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,” he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.

You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, “Now, now… so impatient. I’ll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But today’s my birthday so I get to control the pace. Don’t want you getting all bossy with me.”

You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, “Is it that bad, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Please, Harry.”

“Mmm… love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?”

You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so horny, so out of your mind desperate, “I’m gonna be good. Please.”

“Yeah? Cause once I slide inside of you there’s no turning back.”

You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, “Please.”

The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.

“So sweet for me, Y/n,” Harry took the thigh he’d been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.

The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.

You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.

Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.

You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.

When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.

His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.

A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.

“Taking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussy’s so good.”

You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.

“Feels so good, Harry…” you panted.

“Yeah?” He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.

His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.

His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.

Harry’s moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.

His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that you’d been needing.

You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.

You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, “Yes! Oh god!”

Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, “That feel good, Y/n?”

You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, “Yes…”

The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.

The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.

“Just like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?” Harry’s words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.

He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.

Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, “Hh… Harry…”

He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.

The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.

“Gahhh…” you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Harry’s eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.

You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.

Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.

“Be good for me, honey… there you go,” he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, “Right there, huh? Feels good like that?”

You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.

You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.

You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.

Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldn’t hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, “Shit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hard…”

Harry’s hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.

He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard he’d come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.

Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.

Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.

He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he laughed.

You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.

When he’d pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldn’t get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.

“You all right?” His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.

The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, “Very much all right.” You puffed out a laugh.

He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.”

Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, “And happy birthday to you, Harry.”

Part 2

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good-griief · 5 months ago

Text

losing game pt. 1

HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!

as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic

part two part three

read me click me

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Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life.

When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize.

She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.

And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke.

Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.

She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned.

There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed.

Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek.

There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her.

So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set.

“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up.

You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”

You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh.

You were such an idiot.

She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known.

Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing.

You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt.

And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come.

When would you learn your lesson?

“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know… probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”

And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you’d ever heard.

Still, she texted you after the show.

She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms.

But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show.

You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule.

And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos.

every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way.

The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.”

Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.”

Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off.

The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.”

Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.”

And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers.

Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away.

Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account.

Then you called Ellie.

It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung.

But she called right back.

You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”

You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing.

“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?”

“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“If you’re already headed to sleep—“

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow.

You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment.

You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse.

“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter.

Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go.

There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek.

“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before.

You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead.

Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.

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stonedstr8 · 5 months ago

Text

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

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ybklix · 8 months ago

Text

BROOKLYN BABY

★ pairing: rockstarbf!hyunjin x fem!reader

✦summary: Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, plays guitar and is in a popular band. You love to support him, yet you can't help but feel jealous and insecure at the sight of all his fans and the groupies the rest of the members bring backstage.

✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI, smut, established relationship, fluff, fingering, oral sex

word count: 3.7k

•masterlist•

♡ inspiration:

a/n: happy late ultraviolence day, my fav album, no one loves her like i do lolol, so here’s a little smth, i'll write more inspired by the rest of the songs omg i love my fav child

Hyunjin was a romantic, unlike the rest of his band members, who enjoyed the excess, success and fame that grew more and more every day. He was in charge of writing each of the songs that thrilled thousands of teenagers since he had such an idealized perception of love and loved to romanticize every detail as well as he was in charge of designing each artistic design of the album because of his skills in drawing and painting, he was a sensitive artist, born under a water sign, trying to give the image of a tough and sexy guy for the good of the band. His position was to be the lead guitarist and backing voice for the lead vocalist, yet everyone in the band contributed vocally, grabbing the audience like no other band in that year in the nineties. The crazy nineties, everyone loved rock and roll with the same intensity as the seventies and this time more styles were explored. Everyone loved your boyfriend's band.

You were lucky enough to meet him when they were still newbies with big dreams performing in bars, where Hyunjin claims to have fallen in love with you at first sight, however, his shyness got the best of him and he didn't dare to talk to you and, it wasn't until a month later that, in a jazz club in Brooklyn, in one of the poetry sessions and nights, almost by fate, he met you again, he couldn't miss the opportunity and finally approached you, he seemed so cute and strangely his face seemed so familiar to you, it was about the handsome guitarist you saw once.

Hyunjin didn't have a specific favorite band, he took inspiration from the greats, he enjoyed everything from Nirvana to Guns n' Roses, to classics like Led Zeppelin, he was frequently talking to you on the phone to tell you about his obsession of the week musically, the most recent one, Chris Isaak. Two months ago he started his official tour around the country, which you couldn't accompany him no matter how much you wanted to, the university stopped you. Yet you still supported him from afar and watched every TV show he went on and every radio station with his interviews, you were so happy for him. His most recent appearance was on MTV, he looked like a celebrity, but he was still your sweet and tender Jinnie. And finally he was coming back to close the tour at his hometown in New York City, where it all started for you.

You, unlike Hyunjin, were more down to earth, honest and not afraid to stand up for your beliefs, so you studied law, with an uncontrollable passion for shy lyrics. In contrast to your parents, both rock and roll lovers, artists, your mother was a tarot amateur and identified herself as a spiritual person, your father a landscape painter, both met at a music festival the same amount of years ago as your older brother's age, a Manhattan novelist; yet you grew up in an environment where support was always constant and your personality developed being totally different from your boyfriend's, bold and daring, born under a sign of fire.

You loved Hyunjin, together you were literally like fire and water, and finally you could see him again after so long, you missed him too much, you missed when his band was still small and you spent days in his apartment watching him play the guitar, how he held you by the waist and kissed your neck while you combed your hair to go to college, every little detail that from one day to another changed.

Because of your schedule you couldn't meet your boyfriend at the airport and you could barely stand in the front row, waiting for them to come out and play. You wanted to go backstage to wish him luck, run into his arms and kiss him, after so long and only surviving on phone calls. But, for the first time you were terrified to be in the crowd and you didn't want to lose your place in the front row next to your boyfriend's position, although you thought for seconds if you should go closer and watch the concert from backstage… you were so indecisive and you never visualized your boyfriend's manager to authorize you to enter… you pouted and in a matter of minutes the venue was filling up more, you noticed how, among the crowd and entering easily, three girls were standing next to you. You couldn't help but notice them, they were wearing skirts and cleavage-baring tops, their eyeliner was sharp and perfect, you felt a little inferior and slightly less attractive for a second.

And the show started, the lights went down, and you heard your boyfriend's guitar, the people started to scream and your heart accelerated, the lights turned on, illuminating individually each one of the four members and, among them was your boyfriend, looking as good as always, his long black hair, his red guitar and wearing a gray sleeveless shirt attached to his body with ripped jeans and black combat boots, you noticed he was wearing the necklace you gave him before he went away from you to start the tour and… suddenly your world came to a standstill, there was only Hyunjin in front of you, doing what he is most passionate about.

Hyunjin, once he started to play, he looked for you with his eyes without stopping until he found you in front of him, his smile got bigger, he was smiling like he had never done in another concert, he felt so full. He winked at you and continued with his show, moving his fingers with agility, a young and gifted guitarist with talent, so did Rolling Stone described him in a small article; a little more than an arduous hour of concert later, Hyunjin finished agitated and slightly sweaty and, among the emotion, the only thing he asked to make the night more beautiful, was to be able to hug you. Until he finally did it, he had to go backstage with the rest of the group, but his manager took care to guide you discreetly to the room behind the stage, at the same time you noticed the same three girls next to you walking next to you, to which you understood instantly that they were groupies, you sighed, you could not help but get upset at the fleeting thought that… maybe Hyunjin has had his own groupie before.

Among the darkness of the venue, you finally found the light, the lit room and, there, your boyfriend standing there with a nervous smile waiting for you, your jealousy vanished in seconds, you couldn't be mad at him, he looked so cute with his little sparkling eyes and a shirt over his shoulders trying to dry his sweat. You ran to him and hugged him no matter how soaked he was, it was part of his routine. You felt his lean frame next to your body and warm chest bump against yours, oh, Hyunjin, you had missed him too much.

“I missed you” Hyunjin spoke, his chin resting on your shoulder, holding you tightly.

“I missed you, too” you replied breathlessly, you were so excited to see him.

You slowly pulled apart and he had to kiss you, so he took your face in his hands and did it delicately and passionately, in such a unique way he knew how to do it.

You both smiled at each other as you pulled apart.

“You should have come with me next time, oh god, the west coast is… so different, I think we should move to California once you finish college, love. They offered me a house in Hollywood” Hyunjin blurted out suddenly excited and overstimulated to have you near him.

You laughed softly at his adorable reaction, the way his cheeks went up, narrowing his eyes more, his smile, hiding his upper lip and showing his teeth, ready to speak again.

“I have an interview for Rolling Stone in a few minutes, but after that I'm all yours, I promise, let's get you to say hi to the guys” Hyunjin spoke softly taking you by the hand.

You happily walked into the place, but your smile faded as you saw one of the girls wildly kissing the lead vocalist, Han, on one of the couches while she was sitting on his lap. Another girl on the drummer's lap as he sat behind the instrument and the bassist talking animatedly with another girl.

“Hey, guys” you said shyly trying not to interrupt something.

The members came out of their trances and greeted you.

“Do you want something to drink?” Hyunjin tried to distract you with a tender smile.

“I'll get it, love” you smiled at Hyunjin giving him a quick kiss on his full lips and headed to the drink table.

Hyunjin made himself comfortable on an elongated couch, alone, and waiting for you.

“And you, Hyunjin, if you had the chance to smoke and chat with any singer who would it be with?” one of the girls came dangerously close to Hyunjin, plopping down on the couch very close to him, placing her hand on his thigh.

You turned around, with the two drinks in your hands and suddenly saw the scene of the girl near your boyfriend, making you squint your eyes in annoyance.

“I don't smoke. I don't know… Steven Tyler maybe” stood Hyunjin uncomfortably and walked to your direction, giving you a tender smile and taking one of the glasses.

“God, his daughter is beautiful, we saw her at that club in L.A., didn't we? A pretty, educated girl” added Chris, the drummer.

“The correct answer is Bon Jovi, he's too good looking, who wouldn't want to talk to him?” commented Changbin, the bass player.

Los Angeles, you thought, just California that Hyunjin told you so passionately about a few moments ago… you couldn't help but think of ideas not good at all, you were jealous, upset and a little hurt. You knew Hyunjin would never do anything to hurt you… or would he?

You looked at him, he understood your look instantly, he knew you as well as every string of his favorite precious guitar and tried to pull you away from them, taking you to his dressing room, ready to calm you down and be more in privacy. Hyunjin knew you were easily angered, you tried to be a cute and docile girlfriend but you couldn't. He recognized your annoyed expression, making him bite his lip undecided what to say.

“Those girls are always with you?” you spat annoyed.

“Y/n…” tried to reassure you Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin have you been with a groupie?” you blurted out suddenly staring him straight in the eyes defiantly.

You weren't thinking clearly, anger took over you, you were aware that it happened every time they finished a concert, or at least you want to think it's like that for the rest of the members who are single, but seeing it with your own eyes made your blood boil at the thought of a girl near your boyfriend trying to seduce him. The life of a rock star girlfriend wasn't for you, you wanted Hyunjin all to yourself.

“You know I wouldn't do that… I waited every day for you, I thought every day about you” Hyunjin replied, taking your glass and leaving it on a small table over there just like his drink.

Hyunjin searched for your gaze, you didn't want to see him, you were behaving a bit childish but his words could be a lie, after all he was a rising star. He grabbed your forearm, squeezing them gently between his large hands and you turned to look at him. His tender but manly face of compassion, his thick eyebrows making the slightest expression of concern, if you didn't love him too much you would have trust issues, but you believed Hyunjin blindly.

You approached up to him and hugged him, he reciprocated the happy gesture, your heartbeats joining and the closeness of your body, Hyunjin was so in love that if there was a way to make you do it clearly, he would do it without thinking. Sex was not enough, he wanted to live inside you forever and he was so passionate about it that he wrote countless songs, you were his muse and the great love of his life.

You stood on your tiptoes and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck with a smile.

“Tomorrow, let's go to your favorite place in Greenwich Village, okay?” you said to him, letting your frustrations pass you by.

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows excitedly and smiled sweetly without showing his teeth.

“I'm dying to go… and to kiss you and make love to you while we play an Audrey Hepburn movie in the background…” he said slowly and flirtatiously, holding you tighter around the waist and leering at you from above.

You laughed softly as you remembered the first time you fucked in his apartment, where he promised a romantic movie date and ended up frantically pounding your pussy as he cummed in you.

Hyunjin leaned further into you, closing his eyes and kissing you fiercely, after a little over a minute, his sizzling kisses suddenly turned you on, making you weak in his arms. You hadn't had sex with Hyunjin for two long months, at this point you thought it was even abstinence, you needed him.

He continued to tease you with his deep, slow kisses as he groped your body and brazenly ran his hands under your dress, reaching down to your bare bottom wearing only panties and massaged your ass hard. You were starting to feel a mess of emotions, but luckily this time you finally had your boyfriend with you.

Hyunjin continued to squeeze you tightly, drawing you to his body and this time feeling that he was the same way you were, aroused. Hyunjin found his way to bring his dominant hand to your entrance, making you open your mouth slightly in a soft moan between the kiss. He pulled inches away from you, almost still almost touching your lips and you saw how attractive your boyfriend looked with his slightly intimidating gaze and fuller lips from your passionate kisses.

“I missed you so much” he said excitedly, nimbly pushing aside the fabric of your panties for better access to your area.

You lowered your hands from his neck and held onto his abdomen. Hyunjin was more turned on by the slight difficulty in caressing your pussy because you were standing still. You felt his long, slender, slightly raspy fingers, due the strings of his guitar, stroking along your tight, compressed folds and you spread your legs wider trying to facilitate his caresses, Hyunjin smirked smugly at the sight of you horny, licking his lips.

“Do you like it, love?” he sighed amused and excited.

You nodded awkwardly and didn't stop looking into his eyes for a second, but your peripheral vision caught perfectly his long arm guided in your area, you were losing more and more strength, every touch of Hyunjin made you lose your sanity, he was so skilled with his hands and fingers, after all he was a talented guitarist, you wanted to fuck him so desperately, to feel filled by him after such a long time. You didn't think about it and your hand also went to his prominent bulge, rubbing it gently, this time driving your boyfriend crazy. You stroked and squeezed the denim, he was so hard and at the same time his cock was so soft and slick, it always felt good.

Hyunjin sped up his rubbing on your clitoris, making you tremble a little, he leaned towards you bringing his foreheads together and looking at you sweetly.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, my sweet angel?” he said, as you felt his hot, heavy breathing hit your face.

“Yes” you moaned in between breaths.

Your boyfriend smiled sweetly, so innocent almost like he didn't seem to know exactly the distance from your labia to your entrance, slipping two of his fingers easily into your tight, wet hole. He gently fingered you, enjoying your caresses on his erection and being in control of your pleasure, occasionally looking smugly to his right side as you were in front of the mirror, watching your body tremble before him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to stand, so your boyfriend, concerned looked for an immediate solution, looking at his dressing room chair.

“Sit down. Let me taste you, love” he whispered in your ear, gently pulling his hand away from you.

You were about to do so but a voice near you, interrupted you.

“Hyunjiiiin, come out, where are you? The Rolling Stone fuckers are about to arrive” you heard a rather familiar voice shout, as it slowly approached.

Hyunjin opened his eyes in fright, causing you tenderness, followed by a gasp of frustration.

“Shit, I can't show up to the interview like this” he groaned in frustration.

You looked at your boyfriend's large and noticeable erection in his pants, and you again directed your hand on it squeezing it gently and looked him submissively in the eyes.

“Let me help you, Jinnie” you said seductively, stroking his bulge to which he moaned.

“B-but” he was about to protest.

“Shh” you silenced him, giving him a quick kiss and a cocky grin.

And with no time to waste you got down on your knees in front of his cock, you were so aroused, your pussy was throbbing hard and your throat was suddenly dry and ready to be filled with boyfriend's stiff member. You loved giving him blowjobs, his cock was exquisitely long and Hyunjin always knew how to use it with agility at every strategic spot on you, he knew you so well. You nimbly pulled down his pants and underwear finding his well standing and sensitive manhood, your boyfriend whimpered, yes, he was excited to see you too.

You grasped the base of his penis with your right hand and gently held his balls with your other hand, you raised your gaze to Hyunjin, who was pressing his lips tightly together letting himself be carried away by your touches. You ran your hand over his slightly tanned cock, your mouth was salivating more and more and your poor pussy was also reacting for your boyfriend's erect cock. You had forgotten how it was the last time you sucked him off and you were more than happy to be able to do it again. You gently spat on its tip and lubed it further, jerking it off in the process, feeling its slippery, slightly rough texture; Hyunjin was panting hard, letting out deep sighs and moans from his chest, a completely vocal boy.

You stuck out your tongue a little and opened your mouth to flick his big piece of organ on your needed tongue, tasting a little of his nice white precum, until finally introducing it little by little in your mouth, making sure your lips also felt what was yours, Hyunjin's big cock, all yours. He was big and with a very good thickness, always filling your insides to overflowing, to your limit; you had it all with him, he was cute, romantic and gave you the best orgasms.

Hyunjin whimpered at the feeling of the inside of your soft cheeks caressing his cock and immediately held onto your hair delicately without pulling it.

“Aggh, sweetheart, it feels so good” he gasped.

“Hyunjin, where the fuck are you man?” they shouted again.

“Fuck” gasped your boyfriend frustrated by the situation and the tightness of his cock in your mouth.

You also felt the pressure, your blood flow rushing harder and your heart racing, you had to make your boyfriend cum fast; so you started sucking him hard and keeping a little faster pace than usual, back and forth, taking all his swollen and throbbing length expertly.

“Hyunjin” you heard again a call in the distance. “Hyunjin come out, the Rolling Stone magazine people are here.”

“I'm coming” he squealed out loud in a shuddering whimper, completely lost from the stimulation of his cock in your mouth, “I'm literally coming, what the fuck” moaned Hyunjin biting his lip and taking more tightly your hair, intensifying your movements, fucking your mouth wildly.

You felt your boyfriend's climax near, so he didn't hesitate to feel the bottom of your throat, pushing hard on your head until you felt his tickling glans rubbing your throat as your boyfriend gave gentle lunges, you whimpered on his cock, your eyes quickly watered, you couldn't breathe somehow and, after a few seconds, he pushed you away a little. Finally, you saw his head falling back, his thighs quivering and his perfect abdomen contracting as he babbled excitedly and barely understandable your name. Until you felt his glorious shot of cum in your mouth, filling you completely; Hyunjin always cum in one strong shot and then his cum kept coming slowly so you waited to have it all in you. He subtly stopped holding your hair tightly and gently pushed your head off his member; resulting in the obscene image of his shiny, lubricated cock spurting out of your mouth as more of his liquid fell to the floor.

You swallowed your boyfriend's thick, white liquid and stood up quickly, Hyunjin was trying to steady himself and think clearly again, but you recognized that he was in a hurry, that was the main reason you were sucking him fast and hard so he would ejaculate fast and also the reason you tried to quench your fiery desire and arousal, he had to continue being a rock star and doing rock star things.

“Come on, Hyunjin you have to go out” you told him.

Your boyfriend gently shook his head as he stared at you and reacted instantly, rearranging his cock back into his underwear and pulling up his pants, you watched the scene cheekily biting your lip, even without him being hard, you could clearly see the big package your boyfriend was hiding in his pants, you blushed and once again thought of all the fucking groupies fantasizing about fucking him.

Hyunjin took your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes, his sharp dark eyes that made him look so intimidating, if only they knew he was the most tender and you had him in the palm of your hand, so docile and obedient.

“I promise to reward you, okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for that, love, I love you.”

You nodded softly even with his grip on your cheeks, you watched him lovingly. And you watched him walk away, ready to go back to being the shining star Hwang Hyunjin.

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lqfiles · 8 months ago

Text

PAY THE PRICE — 22. drunken regrets

(wc: 2.572… yeah..)

entering haechan’s apartment felt like stepping foot into foreign territory. you weren’t sure what you were expecting when the door opened, but haechan who stared at you with a lazy lopsided grin and gleaming eyes wasn’t exactly your first guess. “how much did you drink?” was the first question that you voiced upon seeing him.

haechan barely registered your words, seemingly in his own world. “just.. a few glasses?” he guessed after a while, squinting his eyes in thoughts. he opened his door wider for you, stepping aside to allow you to gaze further into the place. “come inside.” he welcomed you, surprising you at the sweet tone of his words.

you’re not sure how haechan had managed to convince you to come over to his place to clean up after him, but here you were, stood in the middle of his living room as you took in the interior of his place. his walls and decor were all painted in neutral colours, and you mentally noted how it suited his aura a lot.

“come sit with me.” haechan’s words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you followed the sound of his voice to see that he had seated himself on the ground you assumed he was previously sat on. his body was leaning against the couch behind him, head thrown back as he looked up at you. he still carried the small grin, and his eyes still held that same gloss.

you clicked your tongue, taking small steps further into his living room. “why are you back on the ground? you’re making this harder for the both us haechan.” you groaned and reached down to grip onto his guitar that was placed next to him. haechan barely listened to your words as he was busy watching your every movement. “do you want a glass?” he had offered once you turned back to him.

you gaped at haechan in disbelief, remaining silent for a few moments. you were about to ask him if he had lost his mind again, but the smile on his face halted your action, and you let out a sigh instead. one that haechan found amusing. “get off the floor.” you instructed him sternly, and haechan’s amused grin only grew.

his hand was slowly grazing through his brown locks that had turned black in the shadows of the room. “come on (—), you’re awake anyways.” haechan patted the spot next to him on the carpet. “sit down.” he called you over. he reached forward to grip onto the glass that was placed on the coffee table in front of him, bringing it up to his lips. “haechan.” you warned him, walking over to him to take the glass out of his hands.

“you’re no fun.” haechan huffed. “i’m not exactly trying to be fun, i’m trying to clean up after you so we can both go to sleep.” you explained, looking around in hopes of figuring out the direction of his kitchen in the dark. “why did you turn of all the lights?” you wondered. “it was hurting my eyes.” haechan explained back, still seated on the ground.

the kitchen wasn’t far away, and you placed the cup into the sink, as well as the other dirty dishes placed on the counter. you had to physically hold yourself back from washing each of them, remembering that you weren’t here to play as his maid. or maybe you kinda were, but not to that extent.

“why are you here for so long?” you jumped away from the sink and almost shrieked at the sudden infiltration of haechan in the kitchen. your heart was beating erratically, and you turned to look back at him with wide eyes. “what the fuck? don’t creep up on me like that!” you nudged him away. haechan softly laughed, grabbing onto your wrist to stop you from pushing him any more. “you took too long, i was starting to miss your presence.” he chuckled.

it took you a moment to register his words, and once they did, you stiffened in his hold. “what?” you questioned him, but haechan didn’t seem like he was going to expand on his words any time soon, instead he continued to stare at you with droopy eyes and a small grin. “how drunk are you?” you eyed haechan in suspicion and he shrugged.

whether he was aware of it or not, his thumb had started to rub the skin on your wrist softly as he tried to put a label on his drunk status. you on the other felt every bit of it, slightly shuddering at the ticklish feeling. “i don’t know, just a little?” haechan concluded after a while. his thumb continued to rub your wrist, and you were starting to believe it was intentional by now.

“you should go to bed.” you suggested to him, taking a step back, but he followed suit and stepped forward himself. “are you leaving already?” he seemed surprised and you hesitantly nodded your head. “i mean, i put your stuff away right?” you explained. his gaze felt heavy on you as he scanned your whole face. he had somehow managed to take ahold of your wrist again. “can you stay until i fall asleep, at least?” he requested.

your eyes widened in shock, frantically shaking your head. “what? that’s weird, haechan. why would i do that?” you asked, baffled. haechan shook his head as well, mildly swinging your wrist around as he spoke. “please, (—). i just wanna talk some more, after that you can leave. please?” haechan pleaded.

it took you by surprise, because what the actual fuck. never in a million years would’ve you imagined haechan desperately begging you for a favour, let alone the favour being your company of all things. was this even haechan?

while you were taking in the unexpected moment, haechan had already started to drag you with him to his bed room. it didn’t fully click yet what he was doing until the both of you were stood in the middle of his room, and he turned to look at you. ��you can sit at the end of my bed, or lay next to me, i don’t bite.” haechan suggested with a smug look. there was a tone to his words, as well as his demeanour that caught you off guard.

“haechan..” you started, and you weren’t sure what you were exactly going to say. it was like all your thoughts disappeared when he softly smiled at you and took ahold of your shoulder, guiding to sit down on his bed before he sat down next to you. “you complain a lot, you know?” haechan chuckled. you could feel the way his eyes bore into your side, and were hesitant to look back.

“it’s because you annoy me a lot.” you defended yourself, thought your words seemed to lack uncertainty, almost as if you didn’t mean it. haechan hummed, leaning back on his arms. “can’t help it, i like how aggressive you get.” he chuckled and you finally took the courage to look his way, thought it was solely to send him a disapproving frown. he laughed upon seeing your expression, slightly leaning forward towards you. “what’s with the look?”

“why am i still here.” you deadpanned. being in his apartment was one thing, but making it onto his bed and sitting closely beside him was something totally different. there was something quite intimate about the moment. you could practically feel the warmth emitted from haechan hit your bare arm, and it sent a tingle through your body. “hm? do you not like being here with me?” haechan asked. you didn’t, but you also did.

you shrugged. “well, i like that you’re here.” haechan confessed, moving back to sit right next to you. “you’re drunk, you really should go to bed, you know?” you suggested and tried to move away. his body heat was practically enclosing you, and your own body was starting to warm up from the proximity. it didn’t help that haechan had accidentally placed his hand on top of yours too, slightly intertwining them from the top. or maybe it was intentional.

“you don’t even look at me whole you say that, why would i take your words serious?” he laughed, amused at how you persistently avoided his eyes. yes, you were avoiding them on purpose, especially when this particular night, his eyes seemed to be filled with nothing but fondness and slight intimacy. you’re not sure what was wrong with haechan tonight, he was not himself.

your throat that had dried up over time, and you swallowed before deciding to go against your attempts and look haechan directly in the eyes. “haechan, go to sleep please?” you asked him, attempting to sound persuasive yet demanding as possible.

again, haechan’s gaze held a certain fondness in them as he just stared at you with doe eyes. he seemed almost hypnotised with the way he hadn’t uttered a word, and you were starting to wonder if he had even heard you. your mouth opened to speak again, but he beat you to it.

“you’re so cute when you care about me like this, you know?”

whatever air you had inhaled to speak again remained stuck in your throat as your eyes widened. you were perplexed, at a loss for words even. your heart rate had involuntarily spiked up and your breath hitched. as if he took enjoyment out of your reaction, a small smile formed on his lips before he spoke again.

“you’re much cuter like this.. when you’re not nagging me. you should do that less.” you felt your heart pulse in your throat, eyes still widened while you listened to haechan’s surprising affectionate words. his hand was still placed on top of yours, slightly tapping the tips of your fingers every now and then.

“um.. i.. i think i should go.” you stammered, attempting to stand up. your knees felt weak and you wondered whether those few minutes on his bed were the reason, or haechan himself was the reason. you wobbled a bit, and haechan’s hand instinctively found place on your lower back while he quickly stood up himself. “be careful.”

his hand had reached the side of your hip, holding you secure as if you would fall down any moment. “i’m fine.” you muttered out, trying to step away from him. he let you slip out of his grasp, and you wondered if it was appropriate to just run out of his apartment at that moment. “should i bring you to the front door?” haechan proposed, already standing right in front of you. you took a careful step back. “oh- um, i think i’ll be fine..” you responded back.

it was like all your sense of thinking had left your body the moment the two of you were sat on his bed. you couldn’t even articulate a normal sentence, let alone look him in the eye. this had to be the devil himself, because there was no way haechan had this affect on you.

but as his hand grasped for yours and he started to gently tug you with him to his front door, you reconsidered the possibility of it all.

he opened the door for you, hand still in his, and had walked you to your own door without any words. it was silly, your door was right next to his, yet he still fully exited his apartment so the two of you were in front of your door.

“you good?” you wondered why he had to duck his head just so he could look you in the eye, why he felt the need to lift your jaw upwards just so your eyes could meet, and why he had to feign worry when you know he didn’t really care. “i’m fine” you whispered out, too scared of how wobbly your voice would sound if any louder. haechan’s eyes slowly inspected your whole face before he nodded, though not letting go of your jaw.

“thank you for cleaning up for me, by the way. i owe you.” you hadn’t thought of the possibility of a payback, mostly doing this for your own sake. “it’s okay.. you don’t have to.” you quietly answered back. haechan pondered over your answer for a while, slowly letting his hand go from your jaw, his other hand strangely still slotted in your own. you weren’t sure whether to break away from it or leave it as it is.

he was drunk after all, he was most likely doing actions out of his comfort zone.

“would a kiss be enough of payback?” he quirked and you almost jump at the suggestion. if your sense of thinking had left your body previously, you’re sure that every single one of the 5 senses had just left your body as the words left his mouth. your heart was beating erratically, and it was haechan’s fault again. though this time, you were scared for other reasons.

“w-what?” you stuttered in pure disbelief. haechan’s look was nothing but playful as he leaned forwards with a slight grin. “wouldn’t it be great compensation, hm? let me try, you tell me.” he teasingly leaned in. you attempted to push your head back into your door, avoiding his incoming attempts at anything.

from the short distance between you two, you were able to smell the scent of his shampoo, a sweet vanilla fragrance to was unfortunately pleasant. you were able to see desire in his eyes as you made eye contact for a split second. the soft glow of the hall light casted a warm and ethereal beam over him, and for once, all you could think of when looking at haechan was how nice he looked.

his nose barely touched yours and the warmth of his breath had started to hit your lips. you had shut your eyes tightly, surprisingly not opposed to whatever was going to happen next. because despite haechan being extremely insufferable, he was equally attractive, and you were not one to refuse on the opportunity to get kissed by an attractive person.

a part of you didn’t believe he would actually go through with his proposal, but as you felt a pair of soft lips plant onto yours, all your senses had seemed to return to you and you realised that he was not bluffing. haechan was actually kissing you, and you hated to admit that you didn’t mind it.

his hand that was previously on your jaw found its way back, slightly caressing your jaw as he pulled you closer. it felt good, and it didn’t seem like haechan was intending on stopping anytime soon. it felt good, but it was wrong, and an alarm went off in your head as you realised what was happening.

panic surged through you and you nudged haechan off you. the boy slowly opened his eyes in confusion, and the way they held that same glimmer they had the whole night made you groan. haechan was drunk, and you were kissing him while he was drunk.

you lowly cursed, not sparing haechan another glance before you opened your apartment door and closed it right behind you. with a deep sigh, you leaned against the door in exasperation. “fucking hell.” you cursed. you regretted ever going over to his apartment. you regretted going into his bedroom, you regretted kissing him.

it ended up being a waste of your time as you remained sleepless the rest of the night anyways.

previous — master list — next

notes ; happy haechan day and also happy lqfiles day, a little birthday present from me to you! ^^

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @junviadinho @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

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fuckinnneforr · 25 days ago

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The case of Daniel Marsh

He was 15 years old when he massacred an elderly couple, he admitted that he felt pleasure in doing it, he thought it was going to be a perfect crime but he made a mistake. On April 14, 2013, he left his mother's house and began wandering the streets of Davis, a city in California. He checked each house from the outside, trying to force the handles until he found a house that seemed appropriate, cut the fabric from the window and entered. He was dressed in a ski mask, gloves and had the soles of his shoes covered in plastic so as not to leave a trace, he headed towards the main room and mercilessly stabbed the couple: 61 times at Claudia, 67 times at Oliver. He mutilated their bodies and dissected them. They found the bodies the next day.

There was no DNA, no fingerprints or any other evidence at the scene, it appeared to be a perfect crime. Daniel had planned it meticulously but he opened his mouth to show off in front of his friends, believing that they would not say anything but he would be wrong. He was a very intelligent boy, with an IQ of 114, and he was even chosen "Student of the Month" because they believed that his behavior had improved

Now, let's talk about the testimonies of his girlfriend and his friend.

Álvaro Garibay, his best friend since seventh grade, said that they had grown up as brothers, they both suffered from depression and that brought them very close.

They used to spend a lot of time together, playing video games, listening to heavy metal, smoking marijuana or playing guitar. Also, Álvaro began to witness his friend's dark desires. When Daniel's parents separated, his mother Sherry took her girlfriend to live with them, and he went crazy, he was 10 years old. "I know this woman was involved in my parents' divorce, I wanted to slit that whore's throat." Daniel also began to self-harm, and his friend believed that all his sayings were jokes in bad taste. In their first year of high school, they started dating girls, Daniel worried about their appearance, and started exercising and eating protein, but Álvaro wasn't interested and they grew apart. In the second year of high school, they got closer again.

A friend of Daniel's sister was staying at his house and he became obsessed with her, stopped eating, lost a lot of weight and ended up being admitted to a hospital for three months. In third year, Sherry was diagnosed with schizophrenia, she also had a progressive neurological illness that would lead to her death; Daniel did not flinch when his mother had a crisis. Álvaro and Daniel experimented with sex, drugs, and began watching violent videos of beheadings and torture on the Internet. The young murderer discovered gore porn and became a fan, frequently frequenting websites that dealt with the subject. At the end of 2012, Álvaro introduced him to a girl and they became lovers.

Daniel and his girlfriend started dating on December 4, 2012. A week later he made a scene of jealousy because the girl talked a lot with Álvaro. A few days later he had an attack of anger, hit the locker and confessed to him. school counselor his fantasies of killing people. He ended up hospitalized and was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, dissociative disorder and anorexia nervosa. His girlfriend reported that Daniel seemed fine but that out of nowhere he started talking about violence in a scary way. To calm himself down, he frequently smoked marijuana.

One day, he started killing animals in front of his friend. Then he began to make a plan to kill his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend. A month before the murders, Daniel became angry with Álvaro because he was still friends with his girlfriend, he was afraid and began to avoid him. When the crime happened, a few days later, he told his girlfriend and friend in great detail that he had killed his father's neighbors, but they did not believe him (or did not want to). Daniel showed them the clothes and weapons he used, Álvaro said "it was cool" and they ended up smoking marijuana. One day in May 2013, Álvaro reported at school that his friend was coming to class with a knife, and Daniel was suspended.

His girlfriend decided to end the relationship and he appeared at her house to try to talk. Álvaro called Daniel's father and told him everything he knew, but he did not believe him. He decided to call the police. When they asked him why he had taken so long to speak, he only said that it was out of fear. After several hours of interrogation, he was provisionally detained for alleged complicity. The next day, June 17, the police went looking for Daniel and took him in for questioning. Before Detective Ariel Pineda and FBI Special Agent Chris Campion, Daniel testified for three and a half hours. He started denying everything and pretended to cry. He said that he had tried to end his own life four times.

In the end, he confessed that every time he looked at someone, flashes of him killing that person would appear in his head. He said that when he was 10 he had already felt that specific need with the woman who was dating his mother. He justified his deadly appetite with these words: “That night I couldn't take it anymore. I had to do it. I had to do it. "I lost control." And he told how the hunt had begun to find his victims. “I went to the room, opened the door and stood in front of their bed watching them sleep for a few minutes… My body was shaking. I was nervous, excited, exhilarated because now I was going to do it. It was there, it was happening (...) I cut his torsos (he pointed with his hands exactly where he opened them) to him here... and, for the woman, I put a telephone inside and for the man a cup (...) It felt pure happiness, adrenaline, dopamine, all of that ran through me. "I'm not going to lie to you, I felt incredible." The evidence of what he had told them, he revealed to them, was in his mother's garage: there they would find his bloody clothes and the murderous knife. He had kept them because those “souvenirs” gave him extra joy. He was detained and his friend was released. Several experts said he was a textbook psychopath, others said he was a sexual sadist. It was proven that Daniel had begun to look for new victims. On September 26, 2014, just two hours after sitting down to deliberate, the jury returned with the verdict: guilty.

On September 30 they ruled something else: Daniel Marsh was not crazy. They considered that when committing the crimes he was fully aware of his actions Although he was tried as an adult, his age prevented him from being sentenced to death or life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. They gave him the maximum possible sentence: 52 years. It was the result of the sum of 25 years for each victim plus two extra for the way in which he did it.

Extra information: Daniel Marsh had received, at the age of 10, recognition from the Red Cross for having saved his own father's life in the middle of a heart attack while driving his car. All the local media reported the tender news.

That's all, I hope it's translated well because English is not my language ;)

#daniel marsh #info post #tcctwt #tcc tumblr #tccblr #tcc dylan #tcc eric #tcc fandom

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starlightkun · 3 months ago

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⏯ word count: 13.7k ⏯ genre: band au, punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader, shotaro is whipped, reader is emotionally unavailable, is it a slowish burn or is it angst?, whatever it is ur reading a starlightkun fic so there’s a happy ending :), ft. eunseok/sungchan/wonbin as shotaro’s bandmates welcome back boys & wayv as reader’s coworkers ⏯ warnings: some blood/violence (shotaro gets punched once), not necessarily a warning but since i do generally avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader works at a punk/alternative concert venue and is generally in/around that scene. reader is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes) ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes, but u don’t need to read that in order to understand this one, filler eps!sungchan and sugarcoated!shotaro r just in the same band! also the title is from a 5sos song lol ⏯ author’s note: sooo after writing filler episodes and experiencing bbb/lucky shotaro, i couldn’t get punk band frontman shotaro out of my head… i fear the trajectory of my life has been altered ⏯ now playing… empty wallets – 5 seconds of summer | apathy is boring – bears in trees | dreaming girl – xdinary heroes

── ⋆⋅♫⋅⋆ find more stories from backstage at venue:hell here!

“You’re not stupid. I know you’re not.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “You always stop yourself right before… I’m sure you think you’re not leading me on or whatever, but I know you know how stupidly head over heels I am for you, because I don’t try to hide it.”

Flipping through your keyring, you selected the right key by touch in order to unlock the rear entrance to the venue. Despite the sweltering summer heat outside, the basement was cool as always. You flipped the AC and lights on as you disabled the alarm that wasn’t actually connected to a security company, then descended the stairs. Venue:Hell, your home away from home. Actually, you were pretty sure you spent more time here than your apartment some weeks.

Your phone buzzed with a text as you crossed the threshold into the back office, and you opened it as you flopped into the creaky office chair.

[kun: attached image]

[kun: new schedule for the month. y/n, don’t forget that you’re covering the new weekly act starting today]

It was your manager, and you read over the list of events for this week with mild interest. The two of you had already discussed that you’d be taking over being point with Venue:Hell’s weekly spot. The venue had a recurring local act come in every week to perform, typically a smaller artist, to help them build a base among your regulars. These guys had recently opened for one of your previous weekly acts on a national tour and your manager liked them enough to ask them to fill in the weekly spot when the tour made a stop here. You’d had that particular night off, so this was going to be your first time meeting the band.

As you went through your usual opening checklist, other employees filtered in, starting on their tasks. The venue usually provided all the staff and equipment for the weekly act. They just needed to show up and perform.

You were with your sound guy Yangyang by his equipment when you heard your name being called from elsewhere in the building.

“Yeah?” You yelled back, walking out from behind the curtain to look around for whoever it was.

Ten, who worked the front, was approaching with four guys in tow, instrument cases in hand. Must be the new band.

“New weekly is here!” He called out.

You hopped down off the stage to meet them on the main floor. “You guys are early.”

The band looked at each other, obviously worried. One that had a guitar case on his back spoke up uncertainly, “Is that a problem? We weren’t sure—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure it’s a first, though,” you snickered.

“You got them?” Ten asked you. “Kunhang said he needed help.”

“Go for it,” you nodded, dismissing your coworker from the group.

Looking back at the four guys that you were left with, you started your spiel. “So, I’m Y/N, assistant manager at Venue:Hell. If you ever have any questions, need anything, let me know. I’m sure Kun already explained how our weekly spot works, but you guys will perform here every Thursday at 10:00 and have a forty-five-minute slot. It’s not exactly primetime, but it’s consistent and we have a good pool of regulars. You’ll also have priority for inclusion on lineups for any special events we host. If your weekly slot ever needs to be moved or canceled, we’ll give you as much of a heads-up as we can, but sometimes it will be very last-minute. If you ever need to miss a week, we ask the same from you, tell us as soon as possible. Make sense?”

You got four hasty nods in return.

“Great, let me show you to your green room.” Just as you were about to turn around and head off, you realized something. “Ah shit, I completely forgot to ask your name. Sorry.”

The guitarist that had spoken earlier offered you a big smile. His ears were adorned with metal, and you spotted some jewelry glinting from his nose, lip, and eyebrow too. His hair sort of reminded you of a dalmatian, a light blonde base with spots of dark black streaking through it. Overall, fit right in with the scene, except for his smile, which seemed to be made of sunshine and rainbows or something cheesy like that. You swore you needed sunglasses just looking at him.

“I’m Osaki Shotaro, uh, guitar, and I sing!” He informed you cheerily. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Jung Sungchan, drums,” the tallest one nodded. “And our band is called Roses for Eyes, by the way. Since Taro here forget to mention that.”

He slapped his friend on the shoulder, making Shotaro wince.

“Right…” Shotaro rubbed his neck. “You-You can also call me Taro, too, by the way. Everyone does. Like boba tea!”

“Cool.” You nodded, looking at the other two expectantly.

“Eunseok, I’m the bassist,” another introduced himself. “Sing a bit, I guess.”

The last one, with dark black hair save for a single hot pink streak in his bangs, gave a small wave. “Park Wonbin. Guitar and I sing too.”

“I like the pink,” you commented, then pivoted on your heel. “Okay, I’ll show you your green room.”

“So what do you think?” Yangyang asked you as he fiddled with his equipment, and you helped him go over his checklists.

“I think it sounds fine,” you replied, checking that step off.

��I meant about the new weekly.”

“Oh, they seem fine,” you shrugged. “You worked the night they were here last time, right? What did you think?”

“Their sound’s good.”

“And Kun obviously liked them.”

“Do you think they’ll be a pain to work with?”

“Hm?” You thought on your sparse interactions with the members of Roses for Eyes, the introductions, and then Shotaro had asked you where the restroom was. “No, I think they’ll be fine. I don’t know, Yang, it hasn’t even been their first day. There’s time yet for them to turn into assholes.”

Footsteps approaching made you glance over your shoulder. It was the drummer… Sungchan, you were pretty sure. He seemed to be heading straight for you, and you looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

“Do you need something?” You asked him expectantly, listening to Yangyang call out that the next step was clear.

“Not me, but yes,” he answered sheepishly.

You held his eye contact, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s Taro,” the drummer continued. “He’s good, I just wanted to give you a heads-up that he kind of uhm, loses things a lot? Especially his in-ears.”

“Has he lost them already?” You checked your watch. “Your soundcheck is in five minutes.”

“Yeah…”

You sighed and held the clipboard out towards Yangyang, “You got this?”

He saluted you, “Yes, ma’am.”

You turned back to Sungchan, “Where’s the last place he saw them?”

“I told Sungchan not to tell you, I’m sorry,” Shotaro apologized as the two of you retraced his steps starting from the van they had arrived in.

“I told you guys—If you need anything, let me know,” you grunted, climbing over a spare amp in the back to look under the seats.

“This is just so embarrassing,” he complained, rifling through the glovebox.

“Hey, it’s your first performance as our new weekly, it’d be weirder if it went over perfectly.”

“I meant you having to search through our nasty van with me for them. Just being a few minutes late to soundcheck, I could deal.”

“It’s fine, Shotaro, I’ve done worse, promise.”

His big eyes peered at you inquisitively over the headrests of the front seats. “Like what?”

“I think we’ve scoured every inch of the inside of this thing,” you declared, wiping sweat off your brow with the hem of your shirt. “Have you checked under it?”

Shotaro was still staring at you.

“I’ll look.” You sighed and hopped out of the back of the van.

“No, I’ve got it!” He suddenly scrambled into action, dropping to his hands and knees on the gravel next to the vehicle to scour the ground underneath it.

You, meanwhile, kept your eyes peeled for the immediate vicinity of the parking lot around it. Finally, off in the direction towards the building next door, something caught your eye. You wandered over, picking up a square, black case. Flipping it open, sure enough, there was a pair of in-ears, one bright green and the other bright purple.

Walking back over to the van, you stopped next to the guitarist, who was still looking under it. “Shotaro.”

“Huh?” Thunk. “Fuck!”

“Watch your head,” you said dryly as he carefully extricated himself from under the van this time. You shook the case at him. “These yours?”

He lit up as soon as he saw the equipment. “Yes! Oh my god! Where were they?”

“Over by the neighbors.” You jerked a thumb at the building.

“Ohhh, right! There was a cat over there that I took a picture of when we got here. Do you want to see it?” He was already digging around in his pocket for his phone.

“No. Focus.”

“Right.” He reached for the case, but you snatched them out of his grasp before he could touch it.

“I don’t think so.”

Shotaro’s face turned endearingly confused. “What?”

“We’re not doing this again,” you declared. “These are mine now. When they are not inside of your ears, they’re mine. You will come get them from me before every performance and return them to me as soon as you get off the stage. If you do not need to take them somewhere else before next week, they’ll stay here with me the whole time. Deal?”

“So, Sungchan mentioned this isn’t the first time I’ve lost them?”

“Uh-huh.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Deal!”

Roses for Eyes wasn’t half bad, from the bits and pieces that you heard while you were running around doing other stuff. You could easily understand why your manager chose them for the weekly spot. Your regulars seemed to like them, too. They had an infectious energy, kept the crowd engaged, and had good chemistry with each other on stage. After the debacle with Shotaro’s in-ears, the rest of the performance went over relatively smoothly, then you just had an open bar and dance night until midnight to deal with. Easy.

It was Yangyang’s turn to have his playlist hooked up, so you were planning on mingling to get some feedback from your regulars on the new weekly.

“Y/N!” A voice yelled out your name from elsewhere backstage, and you turned around.

It was Shotaro running at you, his guitar slung over his back. You held out your hands both in a gesture for him to slow down, and also to protect yourself in case he crashed into you. He managed to skid to a stop just in time, breathless and with a wild smile.

He held his hand out towards you, something crumpled up in his fist. “Here!”

You opened up your palm, letting him drop two familiar neon objects into it. His in-ears. “Ah, right. Thank you for remembering.”

Taking out the case that you still had in your pocket, you tucked them away, snapping it shut again. “You’re sure you won’t need these again before next week?”

“No, we don’t have anything planned.”

“Well, if anything comes up, I’m here most days. I’ll keep them in the office, so if I’m not here, you can get them from Kun or someone else with a key.”

“So what uh, what did you think?” His teeth played with his lip ring nervously.

“About what?” You checked the time on your phone.

“You know, our set?”

“God, I told Yang during soundcheck that Wonbin’s mic should’ve been turned up, but he didn’t listen to me, so we could barely hear him. But we’ll fix that next week. Is the guy always so quiet?”

“Yeah, yeah, he is.” Shotaro was still looking at you expectantly.

“Did you need something else, Shotaro?” You asked. “I was going to go talk to some people.”

“No, uhm, sorry for keeping you.”

“It’s fine.” You patted his shoulder. “And hey, we’re open until midnight tonight. You guys are welcome to stay and hang out. Staff gets half off at the bar, that includes you.”

He nodded and flashed you another smile. “Cool, thanks, Y/N.”

The next week, you were in the back office when there was a knock on the slightly ajar door, and a familiar head poked in.

“Hi.” Shotaro beamed at you. “Kunhang said you were in here.”

“Hi, Shotaro.” You minimized the window that had been up on your screen as he wandered around to your side.

“What are you doing?”

“Payroll. Which you can’t see,” you informed him, opening the top right drawer of the desk.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You handed him his in-ear case that you had just retrieved. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He accepted the case, but didn’t leave the office.

“Do you guys need something else?”

“No, uhm, finish your work,” he started towards the door. “But I uhm, is that new? The septum piercing?”

You touched the ring absentmindedly. You’d gotten it done over the weekend, you’d forgotten that it was new by now. “Yeah, it is.”

“I like it. Looks good on you.”

Before you could even say thanks, he had darted from the office.

Done with the payroll, you went out to the main floor, taking down the stools from the few high-tops scattered around the perimeter and setting them up at the tables. Roses for Eyes were just starting their soundcheck, providing background music of the sounds of them tuning their instruments.

“Hey, Y/N,” Eunseok’s voice came over the speakers.

“Yeah?” You called back over your shoulder as you continued setting up.

“So, did you like our set last week? Anything we can do better?”

You swore you heard snickers, but when you turned around, they were all standing at attention. “Everyone generally liked your sound. Good music to dance to. But you need some more variety in your setlist. Have a vibe-shift or two. Show people you can do more. If you can.”

Sungchan laughed as he spun a stick around with his fingers. “Is that a challenge or what?”

You shrugged. “It’s only a challenge if it’s hard.”

They all erupted into incredulous laughter, and you couldn’t help but grin too, glad that they didn’t seem put-off by your comment. You were genuinely trying to give them advice, not put them down. The band returned to their soundcheck, and you went back to your own tasks. You figured they were done when you heard a long stretch of silence as you were doing inventory of your in-house merch behind the merch counter.

“Hi.” It was Shotaro again, peeking at you from over the counter as you squatted down to count the t-shirts stacked up down there.

“Hi, Shotaro.” You held up your hand expectantly, and he deposited his in-ear case onto it. You tucked it into your jacket pocket. “Thank you.”

“Need any help?”

“This isn’t your job,” you pointed out, tapping a few buttons on the tablet balanced on your knees.

“You’re really good at that.”

“Counting shirts?” You snorted. “I’d be a lot better if I wasn’t talking while I did it.”

He chuckled. “I meant not answering the question you’re asked.”

You looked up from the shirts at him. “Hmph.”

“Did you hate our set that much?”

“Why does it matter what I thought?” You asked him frankly.

“You’re still doing it.”

You took a closer look at what he was wearing today, a neon pink longsleeve under his black t-shirt. “Your shirt matches Wonbin’s hair. Cute.”

He looked down at his sleeves, pulling them over his hands. “Ah, yeah, I guess. Do you like it? I—Hey, wait a minute!”

You laughed to yourself as you stood back up. “If you really want me to answer your question… No, I don’t need any help. I’m done now. Thanks, though.”

After Roses for Eyes’ set, Shotaro didn’t even have to find you, you were waiting just off-stage. He couldn’t hide his surprise, eyes going wide. “Oh, Y/N! Hey!”

“Hi.” You held out your hand expectantly, the case already open atop it.

He stuffed the in-ears back into it. “Thanks.”

“Thank you.” You snapped it shut and pocketed it. “And good set. I’m glad I got to actually see it this time.”

His face lit up. “Wait you—Is that why—? Thanks! You really—?”

“Hey, Taro, come on, we got places to be,” Sungchan grabbed his arm. “You got your in-ears?”

You arched an eyebrow, taking the case back out from your pocket. “You need these?”

Sungchan shook his head as Shotaro took it back from you. “Thanks…”

“Don’t lose them before next week,” you warned.

“I won’t.” He beamed.

The next day, you were at the venue early putting up some new decorations when you swore you heard the back door open.

“Ten?” You yelled out. “That you?”

“No!” An entirely different voice called back, right as the owner had descended the stairs into your view, propping his silver sunglasses up on his dalmatian hair.

“Shotaro.” You tilted your head at him curiously. “Pretty sure I haven’t been here that long. It’s not Thursday yet.”

“Not quite.” He grinned as he set a familiar case on the counter that you were currently standing on to reach the ceiling. “I didn’t lose them.”

“I’m very proud of you.” You pointed in the direction of the back. “Office is unlocked, you can put them on the desk before you head out.”

“What are you doing?”

“Decorating. We’re doing a Y’allternative Night tonight.” You held up the paper cowboy boots that you were prepared to hang up. “It’s all deejayed, no live music or we would’ve offered you guys a slot, sorry.”

“Can I help?”

“You really want to help me decorate?”

“Yeah.”

You sighed, looking down at the stack of decorations on the counter, and the others haphazardly strewn on the stage. “Ten was supposed to help but he hasn’t shown…”

“Is that a yes?” He asked hopefully.

“I can’t pay you for this,” you warned.

“That’s fine!”

“Put your in-ears away first.”

“On it!” He grabbed them off the counter and dashed away.

“So how long have you been working here?” Shotaro asked you as the two of you worked to decorate the venue.

“Few years.” You handed him the next cutout. “Mm, to the right. Yeah, good, higher. There.”

Shotaro was easy to work with, attentive, loved even the smallest bit of praise, and followed directions incredibly well. Kinda like training a dog, you figured. Though, you’d never had a dog.

“How long have you been with your band?” You asked.

“Oh, I’ve known Sungchan since I was like, seven,” he explained, scooting with you along the counter. “I used to be taller than him, you know.”

You snorted at that, genuinely trying to picture little Sungchan and Shotaro, the latter just a smidge taller.

Shotaro was grinning as he continued, “We spent like every day after school in middle school playing Rock Band. Begged our parents for real instruments for Christmas in high school. Then Sungchan met Eunseok in gym class, and I met Wonbin in art. So I guess it’s been… almost ten years? At least since we took over Eunseok’s garage after school for our first band practice.”

“That’s cool,” you replied genuinely, handing him the last decoration. “I like hearing that sort of stuff from the acts that come through here. Everyone’s got such unique stories.”

“Uhm—” He cleared his throat. “Is this good? For the-the thing?”

You looked at where he was holding the paper lasso. “Ehh… Turn it to the left a little? …Perfect, tape it.”

Shotaro hopped down from the counter and the two of you stepped back to admire your handiwork.

“Not bad.” You held your hand up for a high-five, which he eagerly accepted. “Thanks, Shotaro.”

The back door was thrown open then, Ten yelling into the venue, “I’m here!”

“Finally,” you scoffed.

“Sorry, sorry, I had to take Louis to the doctor,” your coworker rambled, obviously flustered as he rushed in. “Stupid asshole ate my charging cable.”

“His cat,” you informed Shotaro quietly, taking in the guitarist’s concerned look. Turning back to Ten, you asked, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, one super expensive vet trip later, he’s fine, of course.” Ten seemed to notice Shotaro then. “Oh, hey, Taro. Are you guys performing tonight?”

“He was just dropping off some equipment and was nice enough to help me with the decorations,” you explained. “Speaking of—You remembered to pick them up on your way in, right?”

He pointed over his shoulder to the back entrance. “Yes, they’re in my car, will you help me with them?”

“I think we’ve got it from here, Shotaro, thanks again—”

“Uhm, do you remember how long it took last time?” Ten interrupted you pointedly.

You sighed ruefully, recalling very well. Clasping your hands together in front of you, you turned to the frontman, “If you’re not busy, would you mind helping us fill hundreds of balloons and also assemble a few cardboard cutouts? Please?”

Only one person could operate the balloon inflating machine at a time. One person would fill them with helium, then hand them off to another to tie them and release them to float up to the ceiling. Getting them back down would be hell. The third person was wrangling the custom-ordered cardboard cutouts out of the packaging and assembling them. That person was of course you. You had lost the rock-paper-scissors, and never had it in you to just pull rank when it came to this kind of stuff.

“What the hell?” You muttered, trying to cut the package open for the third time, barely crinkling the tape instead. Yanking on it, you cursed, “I swear this fucking tape is made of fucking Kevlar! What the fuck?!”

“Let me try?” Shotaro offered, abandoning his post tying balloons to join you. You huffed and let him gently take the box cutter from your hand, moving over to grant him access to the end of the box that you were struggling with.

“It’s probably that box cutter! Blade’s too dull!” Ten called out as he continued filling and tying balloons. “I think it’s older than Kun!”

Shotaro had just tried to slice upwards along the tape, but as soon as the box cutter hit resistance, it stopped, and his hand recoiled with the force. His fingers flew back down along the blade, and he dropped both it and the box immediately, letting out a long string of curses.

As soon as you saw the red welling up on his finger, you yelled out to Ten, “First aid kit!”

“Shit! Oh my god, you’re going to get fucking tetanus or something and die. Or lose your hand!” You panicked, latching onto Shotaro’s elbow. You dragged him into the nearest bathroom—the women’s room—and started running water in the sink. You yanked up his hoodie sleeves then yours, sticking both his hands under the stream. They were both bloody messes at this point.

Shotaro lit up as he looked at your inked forearms. “Cool tattoos, what—”

“So not the fucking time for a tattoo tour?!” You gestured to his own hands incredulously.

Ten brought the first aid kit in, and the women’s room that only had two stalls anyway was starting to feel cramped now.

“Go see if there’s any blood on the floor or something,” you shooed him out probably too harshly.

With him gone, you focused on washing and drying Shotaro’s uninjured hand before taking a look at the other. Only one of his fingers was cut, thankfully, but you knew the state that box cutter was in—old, rusty, and had probably never been cleaned once.

“I’ll be fine.” Shotaro was surprisingly calm as he watched you.

“You know there’s no cure for tetanus, right? Fuck, Kun’s going to kill me if our weekly can’t perform because I gave the frontman tetanus and he died.” You stressed.

“Oh, I thought you were just worried for me,” his voice was teasing, and if you hadn’t watched him injure himself and flinch in pain with your own two eyes, you would’ve wondered if he had any pain receptors, as he didn’t seem to be bothered whatsoever by you squirting soap onto the cut in that moment.

“Yeah, that too.”

“As an afterthought,” he snickered.

You pushed the shoulder of his uninjured hand. “Shut up and clean your cut.”

“Really, I’m touched.” He was still smirking as he obliged, gingerly running the tip of his thumb over the area to work the soap around the cut, the water finally running clear. You turned the sink off then grabbed paper towels and his hand, starting to dry the cut off. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you I’m upped on my tetanus booster?”

“Are you?”

He shrugged.

“Then no, that does not make me feel better,” you scoffed, inspecting the wound now that it was dry. On the bright side, the box cutter being as old and dull as it was meant that the cut wasn’t very deep. The bleeding had already stopped. As you went to grab the band-aids from the first-aid kit, you realized Shotaro was still watching you, this time with a funny smile on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re always so… cool. In like this unreachable, detached way. Is it bad to say I’m kind of enjoying seeing you like this too?”

“Panicking and pissed off that you’re not taking tetanus serious enough?” You shot him an unamused look, ripping open a band-aid. “Yes, I’d say that’s a strange thing to enjoy.”

“Strange,” he repeated happily. “Not bad.”

“I suppose that is what I said.” You wrapped the band-aid around the cut. “There. All better. Unless you get tetanus and die.”

“I pinky promise I won’t get tetanus and die.” He held the pinky finger of his injured hand out to you.

You eyed his hand. “I super don’t think that’s how this works.”

Shotaro shook it more insistently. You sighed, linking your pinky with his. “If you get tetanus and die, I’m going to kill you.”

“I super don’t think that’s how that works.”

Thursday rolled around, and you were actually grateful when a spotted head of hair poked into the back office that evening.

“I’m alive!” Shotaro announced cheerily.

“So you are.” You smiled, taking out his in-ears from the desk drawer, as well as the brand-new bag of Sour Patch Kids you had tucked in there. “For you. I can’t pay you with money for helping out, but I really do appreciate it, Shotaro. And I’m sorry that you got injured helping me, too. If Sour Patch aren’t your thing, let me know what you do like and I’ll pick some up for you next week.”

Anybody else would’ve thought you’d just given him a handmade sweater the way he clutched the bag of candy to his chest and looked at you with big eyes. “These are my favorites! How—Did Sungchan tell you or something?”

“Took a wild guess.” You finished up the online order you were placing for restocking your in-house merch. “Also, do you guys have merch?”

“Huh?” Shotaro was looking right at you, but clearly hadn’t heard a word you’d said.

“Merch. Shirts, CDs, stuff for people to buy. Do you guys have any? We can keep it in stock here.”

He blinked, finally processing your question. “We sold out of all our shirts on tour… and we were talking about getting new designs the next time we got some made anyway. We’ve only got a few CDs left now. So… no…”

You clicked your tongue, logging out of the computer and standing up. “Well, whenever you get to it, we can keep them stocked here for you guys. Oh, and I know a few good artists who do that kind of stuff, if you’re looking for someone.”

As you talked, you had started ushering Shotaro out of the office, shutting the door behind you. He stopped in the narrow hallway outside it, made even more cramped by the cardboard boxes of miscellaneous props, merch, and decorations stored back here because you had run out of room in your actual storage closet. He was so close you were certain you could accurately count the piercings on his ears and face if you were patient enough. You tried to take a step back, only to hit your head on the office door that you had just closed.

“Fuck!” You hissed under your breath, clutching your head. “Shotaro, you mind? Don’t you have a soundcheck to do or something?”

“Sorry! Are you okay?” He winced sympathetically, still not moving away, if anything, getting closer as he tried to check on you. “That didn’t sound good—”

“I’m fine!” You insisted. “Soundcheck! Go do it!”

“Right!” He gave you a thumbs-up, then shook his giant bag of candy. “Thank you again!”

After he had sprinted away, you let out a relieved groan, leaning back against the door and looking up at the water-stained ceiling.

“Is that sanitary?” Eunseok’s voice announced Roses for Eyes’ arrival that particular afternoon, as you sat atop the bar counter, scrolling on your phone in one of your few moments of peace and quiet around Venue:Hell.

“Kiss my ass, Eunseok,” you replied without even looking up.

“Yeah, I’ll get in line,” he retorted, making Sungchan and Wonbin laugh.

That finally prompted you to slide your gaze up, just in time to see the three of them laughing over by the stage as Shotaro flipped them all off over his shoulder, making his way towards you. He had two cups in one hand, one with a bright green straw in it, and the other without a straw, and you saw that the other three band members each had a plastic cup with a straw sticking out of them as well. You silently watched Shotaro approach, raising an eyebrow at him once he’d stopped in front of you.

“We were getting boba on our way here, and thought we’d grab you one, too.” His cheeks were a bright pink as he held the unopened cup out to you, and fished a packaged purple straw out from the front pocket of his black jean jacket.

“Who’s this ‘we’ that you’re talking about?” You asked humorously. “They all apparently think getting me boba is kissing my ass.”

Shotaro straightened up, puffing his chest out. “Actually, yeah. Fuck ‘em. I got you one because I thought it’d be nice to get you one too since you do so much for us every week. It’s uh-It’s honey milk tea, because I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”

“Thank you, Shotaro.” You accepted the cup and straw from him graciously, to a chorus of snickers from the spectators on the other side of the floor. “Honey milk tea is more than acceptable.”

“But it’s not your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite.” You set the cup on the bartop beside you to stab the straw into it.

“You—Hey, are those mine?” He seemed to have finally noticed the sunglasses perched atop your head.

“What? These?” You teased, tapping the plastic accessory arm on one side of your head.

“I was looking for those today!”

You took them off, offering them out towards him. “You left them here last week.”

Shotaro took the glasses just to turn them right back around, take a step closer to you, and place them back on your head, a fond smile on his face as he did so. “I think you look better in them, actually. You can hold onto them for a little longer.”

You swallowed, your chest suddenly feeling too tight for your heart, and six eyes suddenly feeling like way too many to be in the room with you two right now. You chuckled, trying to keep up the congenial tone as you once more pulled them off. This time, you folded the arms and tucked the sunglasses into Shotaro’s jacket pocket for him. “Thanks, Shotaro, but I can’t take your sunglasses. They’re really rockstar sunglasses anyway, not for someone like me.”

At that moment, you grabbed your boba tea and hopped off the bar, scooting out from between him and the counter. You avoided looking at the others, beelining for the back office.

When Shotaro had to come get his in-ears from you just a few minutes later, you gave him the same pleasant smile as usual, handing him the case. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He tapped the case against his palm, the sound dampened by the fingerless gloves he was wearing that day. “What did you mean? When you said someone like you.”

“Wh—About the sunglasses?” You’d hardly expected him to confront you about that comment at all, much less alone now, just you and him in the office, no peanut gallery. While six eyes had felt like too many, this felt far too intimate. You somehow felt more exposed than before. “Like I said—They’re cool rockstar sunglasses, that’s what you are. You should wear them you know, up on stage, being all cool and stuff. I’m crew; no point in me wearing them while I’m sitting back here where nobody can see them.”

He frowned, but thankfully didn’t try to give them to you again. “I think you’re cool, Y/N.”

With that, he left the office.

“Hey—Woah.” Yangyang stopped midsentence, blinking at you from the office doorway.

“You’re losing your ears, puppy,” you snickered.

“I’m not a—!” He whined, catching the wolf ears that were sliding off his head just in time. “I’m a werewolf!”

“Sure,” you snorted, spinning your desk chair around to face him. “So what did you need, Yang?”

“Ten has a question about how we should set up the line out front.”

“Alright.” You stood up, smoothing out your long black dress. Today was Venue:Hell’s Halloween event, Hallowfreaks, so the whole staff was dressed up. You didn’t have time to think about a costume this time, so you just took out your Morticia Addams costume from last year.

Meeting Ten out front, you couldn’t even compliment his own “werewolf” costume, as he immediately tilted his head with interest upon seeing yours. You looked down at your dress, wondering if you had somehow spilled something on it unknowingly.

He didn’t leave you in the dark long, though. “You did a matching costume with Taro?”

“What?”

“Shotaro.”

The singer whipped around at the sound of his name. And there was no doubt as to who he was dressed as: His spotted blonde and black hair was slicked back and it looked like he had even used some kind of spray to make it fully black, he had donned a pinstriped suit and dress shoes, and drawn on a mustache to finish off the Gomez Addams look.

The initial recognition at his name being called turned to excitement as he realized what your costume was as well.

“Wait, seriously?!” He laughed, jumping up and down with elation. “That’s awesome!”

“I thought you guys would’ve done a group costume or something.” You crossed your arms.

“We were thinking about it, but Sungchan wanted to do a couple’s costume with his girlfriend. We thought it would look weird onstage if the three of us had a group costume without him, so we just all did our own thing.”

“Sensible.”

“C’mere, we’ve got to show them!” He grabbed your arm, and you let him drag you elsewhere backstage, into the green room where his other three band members were waiting around before their soundcheck. “Guys!”

“What’s this?” Eunseok grinned, pointing between the two of you.

“Taro, you didn’t mention you were doing a couple’s costume with Y/N,” Sungchan teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Not planned, you little shits.”

“Kinda weird that it happened, though,” Wonbin pointed out through a yawn. “Like, you know? What does it mean?”

“It means I was too lazy to buy a new costume and wore my one from last year, and Shotaro… I don’t know, something.”

“I like the movies,” he added quietly.

“He likes the movies!” You repeated triumphantly.

But the others were long gone, laughing and joking among themselves. Shaking your head, you turned back to Shotaro. “I’ll grab your in-ears.”

“I’ll come with.”

The venue was buzzing with excitement for the holiday, but the back office was quiet as always. You passed Kun in the hallway, giving him a quick nod as he rushed off to do something.

“Your in-ears,” you handed him the case, and a small bag of candy, “and Happy Halloween.”

“Sour Patch Kids!” His face lit up.

“Some place on my way to work was handing them out to people walking by. They’re not my favorite, so I figured I’d give it to you.”

“You don’t like them?” He questioned, ripping open the small package.

“They’re fine.” You shrugged, leaning back against the desk. “But you love them.”

He smiled as he grabbed a gummy. “Thanks.”

“This is Roses for Eyes’ first special event here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” He confirmed. “Sungchan’s really excited.”

“Why’s that? He really like Halloween or something?”

“This is the first performance since we’ve had this gig that his girlfriend is going to be here for,” Shotaro explained. “She’s been on the road for the past two months.”

“She’s in the industry too?”

“Yeah, she does tour management.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible. “Good for them.”

“Yeah…” Shotaro looked at you carefully. “But why’d you say it like that?”

Not neutral enough, apparently. You purposefully avoided meeting his gaze. “Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know. Like you had another opinion.”

“I meant it. Good for them.” You hoped at least that much came across as genuine. “I’ve been around the scene for long enough to see plenty of relationships like that end badly. Especially ones between talent and crew.”

His big eyes watched you carefully as he chewed, swallowed, and cautiously asked, “Personal experience?”

“What did I just say? I’ve seen it. Not had it happen to me,” you replied firmly. Pointing to the door, you said, “Now go do your soundcheck, Shotaro.”

You were waiting backstage for Roses for Eyes after their set. The stage was being prepared for the next live act, and the band was still energetic.

“Good job, guys,” you congratulated them as Shotaro handed over his in-ears.

“Thanks.” Sungchan patted your head as he hurried by, apparently with somewhere to be.

“He’s got to find his girlfriend,” Eunseok informed you, wiping his face with his shirt, and taking half his No Face facepaint off in the process.

You narrowed your eyes at Shotaro. “Missing something?”

“I gave you them!” He defended himself.

“Your guitar.”

He patted his front and back, eyes going wide. “Shit!”

Wonbin and Eunseok burst into laughter as Shotaro darted back onto stage, apologizing to the staff and band still setting up. The other two wandered off, presumably to put their own equipment away. Shotaro snatched his guitar from the stand and ran back over to you, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Okay, that’s the first time that’s ever happened,” he promised.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I saw you in the back, during some of the set,” he was absolutely beaming at you.

“Yeah, with Kun here tonight, I can actually get some breathing room. I was able to stop and watch a bit.” You patted his arm. “Like I said, good job, mon cher.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling down at his feet. “Thanks, cara mia.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth as you did.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asked with a chuckle.

“It is pretty funny that we accidentally did two halves of a matching costume. Everyone had a right to be weirded out.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Weird coincidence, right?”

“Anyway, you should put your guitar away before you lose it again and I have to confiscate that as well, okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

“I’m going to put your in-ears in the office. If you guys don’t have anything better to do, Hallowfreaks is going on until 2 a.m.”

“Don’t tell me you’re working that whole time?” He asked in disbelief.

“Where else would I be?”

Winter rolled around, and you were once again crouched behind the merch counter doing inventory. Seasons change, but the pain of doing inventory never does.

“Nah, it’ll be Taro,” Yangyang insisted.

“I think it’ll be Sungchan trying to embarrass Taro,” Kunhang replied.

“Mm, could be Eunseok trying to piss Y/N off while simultaneously embarrassing Taro,” Ten gave his input on whatever the hell they were talking about near Yangyang’s sound equipment.

You poked your head above the merch counter now that you’d heard your own name. “Hey! What are you guys talking about?”

Three heads peeked around the black curtains. Ten answered your question, “We’re betting on which one of them will say something first when they get here today.”

“And none of you said Wonbin because he’ll probably be half-asleep anyway,” you guessed.

“Yep!” Kunhang nodded.

You just sighed loudly and went back to your task. A few minutes later, the back door opened, followed by the overlapping voices of Sungchan and Shotaro in a quiet but heated argument about… something indistinguishable to you. It was ended by an alarmingly loud smacking sound followed by dead silence, which prompted you to peer over the counter, a little concerned. The guys would playfight or bicker sometimes, but it always devolved into laughter.

The four of them were silent, but the angry tension was choking. You tried to quickly duck your head back down, hoping nobody saw you. But of course Shotaro did. It was only a few minutes later, after they put all their stuff down in the green room, that Shotaro was leaning over the merch counter on his elbows to talk to you.

“Hi, Y/N.” He offered you a smile, but you noticed it seemed a little strained this time.

“Hey, Shotaro,” you greeted him, not addressing the band’s entrance. Having just finished up with inventory, you stood up, groaning with relief.

The singer’s smile turned genuine then. “You’re wearing our merch.”

You looked down at the front of the hoodie you were wearing. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry, I paid for it.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.” His eyes shined as he looked at you. “I’m—I didn’t think you’d…”

“I’ve gotta rep the home team, right?” You gestured to the building around you. “It’s super comfy, too. Come on, let’s get your in-ears.”

In the office, you grabbed the case from the desk, watching Shotaro fuss with his lipring with his front teeth, bouncing from his heels to his toes.

“Look,” you sighed. “You don’t have to tell me what it’s about… but is everything okay with you guys?”

He pulled at his fingerless gloves. “You didn’t hear what Sungchan was saying?”

“No, nothing.”

“We’ll be okay,” he reassured you. “We’ve had worse fights. I mean, not since I was like, twelve, but it’ll be fine.”

You let your uncertainty be visible on your face. “Alright, you know him better than I do. Like I always say, if you need something, let me know.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that you’re concerned about us.” Shotaro held a hand out for his in-ears, and you placed them in his waiting palm.

A little while later, you went out to start setting up the stools to find Shotaro alone on stage tuning his guitar. You went about your business as he seemed absorbed in his own task.

“I looked it up,” Shotaro called out to you before he played a chord, then adjusted one of the tuning pegs. “There’s no cure for tetanus.”

You looked at him over your shoulder, pulling a stool down from the high-top. “I know.”

Another chord. “I know you know.” More tuning. “You said that when I cut myself with the box cutter.”

“And…?”

“How did you know that?”

“My sister’s a doctor,” you answered simply, continuing to set up the furniture.

The guitarist stopped completely, staring at you. “Wait, really?”

“Why do you look so surprised?” You chuckled, leaning against one of the tables. “Can’t believe I’m related to a doctor and work in this place?”

“No, not that.” He shook his head as if trying to shake himself out of a stupor. “You just never tell me about that kind of stuff.”

“We both lived at home when she was in med school. I helped her with flashcards and stuff when she’d study.” You shrugged and went back to setting up. “Random stuff stuck.”

The other members of Roses for Eyes came out on stage then, cutting the conversation short as they started their soundcheck.

Poking your head into the band’s green room that particular evening, you were surprised to only find one member. Sure, a couple might be out on a food run, or wandering around the venue distracting your staff, but more often than not they were all in here between soundcheck and their set.

Regardless, you really only needed one of them at the moment. “Shotaro.”

“Yes!” He immediately shot up from where he had been sprawled out on the tiny couch, facing away from the door. His dalmatian hair had finally faded, and he was now completely platinum blonde with a shorter, spikier cut.

You quickly shot your boss a text back as you also flicked through the upcoming events spreadsheet for the venue. Not even looking up from your phone, you asked, “Got Valentine’s Day plans?”

Something collided with the edge of the table as Shotaro fell off the couch at that exact moment. You glimpsed the tail end of him scrambling to his feet, rushing to answer you, “No! Not at all! Uhm, what were you—”

“We’re putting on an Anti-Romantics Event for singles that night,” you explained, reviewing the details for the event on your screen. “Mix of live stuff and deejayed. Some games, raffles, that kind of stuff too. The headliner slot is yours if you guys want it.”

Shotaro nodded fervently. “Yeah! We can do it!”

You raised an eyebrow, looking around the empty room pointedly. “You’re not going to ask the other guys? I figured at least Sungchan might be doing something, you know…”

“Right. I’ll uhm, I’ll double-check with them.”

“I’ll pencil you guys in. Just let me know as soon as possible, okay?”

“Y/N?” Shotaro’s voice echoed as he yelled your name from the main room, obviously just wandering around shouting for you. Tonight was Venue:Hell’s Anti-Romantics Event, and Roses for Eyes had ended up accepting the headliner spot. Apparently, Sungchan’s girlfriend was really chill.

“In here!” You yelled back from inside the women’s bathroom, hunched in front of the mirror with an eyeliner pen and pile of used makeup remover wipes.

“Shit, sorry! I mean, uh—Never mind!”

“I’m doing my make-up,” you snorted. “You can come in.”

The swinging door opened hesitantly, and as soon as he was able to see that you were telling the truth, Shotaro entered fully. You wiped off your latest fail with a groan, grabbing all of the used wipes and tossing them in the trash.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously.

“I’m trying to draw a broken heart on my cheek,” you explained. “But I can’t draw on my own face for shit.”

“Can I…?” He reached for the eyeliner. You handed it over, leaning back against the sink. He gently tilted your chin up and away from him to give him better access. You looked off to the side to avoid staring directly at him as he leaned in. “So you didn’t have any Valentine’s plans?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“I figured.”

He chuckled, his warm breath washing over your cheek. “Ouch.”

You rolled your eyes. “You already told me you didn’t have any plans.”

“Right.”

“I like your necklace.” You picked up the heavy chain from where it was sitting on his chest, several miniature heart lockets hanging from it.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I think your makeup is nice.”

“I’m a sucker for a theme.”

Shotaro took a step back to look at his handiwork, nodding proudly. “Not half-bad, I think.”

You turned to check on it in the mirror, lighting up when you saw a much more legible broken heart than all the ones you’d attempted. “Oh, that’s so much better! Thank you, Shotaro!”

“You’re welcome.”

Eyeing the rest of his outfit, you were struck with an idea. You grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning the two of you around so his back was to the sink. “Your turn.”

“Hm?” He watched you with interest as you took the eyeliner pen from him and tossed it into your makeup bag, rooting around in there for something else. Finally, you secured a compact of blush and brush, holding them up eagerly.

“Trust me?” You requested.

He smiled fondly, relaxing back against the sink. “Go for it.”

You dusted the bright-colored blush across his cheeks and nose, focusing the majority of it in the center. When you were done, you had a victorious grin on your face. He now looked like a perfect little pop punk Cupid. The rest of his outfit was his usual mishmash of black and bright neon colors—this time solely hot pink—accessorized with more black, spikes, and metal chains. The blush was just the icing on the cake, especially when you saw that he had put a teeny, tiny silver heart stud in his nose piercing.

“Perfect,” you announced with finality, putting the makeup away.

Shotaro blinked his eyes open uncertainly, and you gestured for him to look in the mirror. He laughed, nodding his approval. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought you were doing.”

“Let me know how many numbers you leave with at the end of the night,” you quipped.

“What?” All the humor was drained from his features as he looked from the mirror over to you.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re the frontman of the headlining act at an event for singles on Valentine’s Day, and I just made you look ten times more edible than usual.” You patted him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

“I don’t want anybody’s number.”

You were slightly alarmed at the rate that this conversation had taken a nosedive, quickly trying to gloss over the tense moment. “Of course. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You really think I’m edible?” He asked with a knowing smirk.

“Mm, I guess I did say something like that,” you answered noncommittally, grabbing your makeup bag. “I’ll go get your in-ears for you.”

“I’m not them.” Shotaro’s biting words stopped you in your tracks before you could even grab the door handle.

“What?”

He was still leaning back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest as he held your confused gaze. “Whoever you’re comparing me to in your head. Whoever you think I’m going to end up being exactly like. I’m not them.”

“Shotaro…” You breathed out his name, unable to think of a quick deflection this time, hoping he would just let it go.

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I know you’re not.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “You always stop yourself right before… I’m sure you think you’re not leading me on or whatever, but I know you know how stupidly head over heels I am for you, because I don’t try to hide it.”

You winced, your stomach dropping to the floor. So he really did want to have this conversation. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something. I thought… I don’t know, that I needed better words before I said anything. But saying something would’ve been better than doing this to you. I’m so sorry, Shotaro.”

“Tell me. Whatever words you do have, even if you think they’re bad,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because I still want to know everything about you, even if it’s the reasons you’re rejecting me,” he chuckled cynically, his eyes still shining as he looked at you.

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you tried to think of where to start. You knew you owed Shotaro this much, at least. Finally, you decided on, “I dated the lead singer of a band a few years ago, when I started here. I was young and stupidly in love with him and really believed him when he told me I was special. He was cheating on me the whole time.” You watched Shotaro’s eyes go big. “Every time he went on tour, even at concerts here. I think the worst part wasn’t even how many times he cheated on me, but how many times I caught him doing it and believed him when he said it meant nothing and he’d never do it again.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Shotaro. Really,” you reassured him. “I-I don’t know if I can trust myself to not… realize when something like that is happening again. To not realize when I’ve lost myself like that. I’m sorry.”

You rushed out of the bathroom then, unable to bring yourself to hear what he said next, whatever surely sweet, reassuring, reasonable thing he would say. You couldn’t hear it, not now. You were stuck, and now you’d gotten Shotaro stuck too.

Grabbing the in-ears from your office, you were glad to almost immediately catch Kunhang in the hallway. “Hey, give these to Shotaro for me.”

He thankfully didn’t question it, and you set off to keep yourself even busier than usual. Which wouldn’t be hard, as Kun wasn’t in that night, meaning that you were overseeing the whole event on your own. You didn’t even see Shotaro again until he was on stage performing with the rest of Roses for Eyes. You were helping out behind the merch table, as the limited-edition event merch you’d gotten was apparently very popular and the bunching up of people around the counter was clogging up the small area.

“They’re killing it tonight,” Ten commented loudly to be heard over the crowd and the music, nodding towards the stage.

“Yeah,” you agreed mildly, watching the performance out of the corner of your eye as you straightened up the stock.

“They’ve been doing really well with the weekly slot, too.”

“Mhm.”

“I heard they’re planning a mini-tour in the summer, though.”

“Cool.”

“Taro mentioned anything to you about that?”

You flashed him a sharp look. “Why would he have told me anything?”

“Because you’re their contact for the slot here?” He gave you a bewildered look back. “They’d have to tell you so you could tell Kun and find someone to fill the slot while they’re gone?”

“Right. Yeah. No, nobody’s said anything to me.”

“And also, he’s got a huge crush on you.”

“God, shut up,” you groaned.

“What? It’s adorable to watch him follow you around like a lost puppy,” your coworker snickered. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“I’m telling you to shut up about it.”

“Come on, taking the theme a little too literally, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes, opting to not engage with the conversation at all since he apparently wasn’t going to move on. The presence of the headliner on stage was finally drawing some of the crowd away from the merch line.

Giving Ten an unsympathetic smile, you started backing away from the counter, “Alright, I think you’ve got it from here.”

Ten was still grinning and shaking his head as he let you go without a fight, helping the next person in line. You continued running around the venue, helping with anything that popped up.

As Kunhang was announcing the winners of some of the raffles later in the night, you had eyed trouble at the bar. Sicheng, your bartender, was obviously trying to decline service to an insistent patron while a line of other guests bunched up around the bar.

“Is there a problem here, Sicheng?” You asked, stepping into the situation.

“Oh, Y/N,” he breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s had too many, can you—”

“I’ve got it, you keep serving people,” you reassured him. With his attention on the next people, you turned back to the other man. The guy had clearly had too much to drink, pink-faced and swaying in place. “You’ve had enough, man. How about we get you a water, okay? Or a soda?”

“No, I want another beer!” He insisted.

“No can do, sorry,” you informed him firmly. “Water, soda, or nothing. Alright?”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me no?”

“Manager of the building you’re in right now.”

“Well, manager, tell him to get me another beer.”

“No,” you repeated. “Look, dude, I know tonight can especially suck, but there’s other things to do besides drink. You are cut off. Let’s get you a water, hm?”

“No.”

“Did you come with friends? I can help get you back to them.”

He got up in your face then, and you stepped back, unwittingly jamming the bartop right into your own ribcage. “I said no, bitch.”

“I’m going to ask you to leave if you don’t calm down and get out of my fucking face,” you informed him through gritted teeth. “Come on, dude, don’t make this a bigger deal than it has to be.”

Before he could say anything else, someone grabbed the guy by the shoulder, pulling him away from you. At first you hoped that it was come friends of the guy, finally caught on to what was going on, but your blood turned cold when you saw who it really was.

“Hey, get out of her face,” Shotaro told him, rather calmly, but firmly.

In the next second, the drunk guy had swung, his fist impacting with Shotaro’s face and making his head jerk back. The crowd around you three gasped and backed up, and you felt both anger and panic flood your veins.

“You’re done!” You announced loudly. “Out! Get the fuck out! Sicheng! Call security!”

Your bartender was already on it, his walkie-talkie up by his mouth and his request for back-up coming through your own earpiece very clearly. You watched the venue’s guard who very rarely had to leave his post by the front door lumber up, grabbing the guy by the collar and pulling him through the crowd.

Shotaro was stood in the same spot, slightly hunched over as he held onto the edge of the bar, cradling his cheek. You sighed, grabbing his arm. “Come on.”

He let you guide him away from the crowd, the din of the music fading as you took him into the back office, shutting the door behind you. You gestured to the desk chair for him to sit in, and he obliged. After getting out the small first aid kit that was kept in here, you leaned back against the desk, pulling his hand down from his face to inspect the damage.

“We have security, you know,” you said quietly, cracking a cold pack and massaging it in your hands to get the reaction going.

“Didn’t seem like they were helping you,” he replied.

You grabbed a couple tissues from the dispenser on the desk, pressing them to where blood was welling up from a cut on his cheek. “Because I hadn’t called them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was handling it.” Tossing the bloodied tissues in the trash, you applied a band-aid to the open wound before holding the cold pack out to him.

He accepted it, looking down at his lap guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

“C’mere.” You stood up and stepped closer to him, reaching for his face with both your hands.

“Hm?” He looked up at you curiously. You turned his head so you could gently press your thumbs against his cheekbone and the area around his eye where he’d been hit. “Ow…”

“Sorry. I don’t think he broke anything. You’ll probably just have some bruising for a while,” you declared softly, pulling his hand that was holding the cold pack up to his cheek. “And a nasty cut from his ugly rings.”

He chuckled a little, and you smiled back. “Learn that from your sister?”

“No, just had to break up a few fights here before.”

“Really?”

“We weren’t always such a classy establishment,” you joked, sitting back down on the edge of the desk in front of him. “We’re called Venue:Hell for a reason, and not just because we’re underground.”

“Here I thought you guys were just trying to be edgy.”

You were still replaying it in your mind, of how quick it happened, from Shotaro grabbing the guy to him getting punched. “You thought that guy was going to hit me or something, right?”

“He was getting up in your face…” He hissed and pulled the cold pack down from his face for a moment, then put it back up, wincing. “Even if he didn’t, he shouldn’t have been yelling at you like that.”

“Occupational hazard,” you shrugged. After a beat, you added sincerely, “Thanks, Shotaro.”

“Why do you call me Shotaro? To keep me at a distance?” He asked, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Everyone calls me Taro, I even told you to call me Taro. But you never have.”

“I’m pretty sure you said that I can call you Taro, not that you wanted me to,” you pointed out. Seeing the distress on his face, though, you said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it meant so much to you.”

“It doesn’t, really. But when it’s you… it hurts. Everything feels like the best thing that’s ever happened to me and the worst at the same time.”

“I…” You trailed off uncertainly. What were you even supposed to say to that?

“Like, I make you laugh and I’m fucking on Cloud Nine. And then I somehow take it too far, or say something that makes you run away and I kind of feel like I’m literally dying.” He slumped back into the desk chair with a sharp laugh, still pressing the cold pack to his face.

“That sounds awful, I’m so—”

“No, stop it. It’s not awful, and I want you to stop apologizing to me.”

“Okay.”

Shotaro sighed, looking down at his free hand as he futzed with his jewelry. “That guy’s rings were pretty ugly.”

You let out a sputtering laugh, happy for some of the tension in your chest to dissolve in that moment. “Yeah, they really were.”

That night, you got home from work in the wee hours of the morning, not even bothering to turn your apartment light on, simply tossing your backpack in the direction of your couch and shuffling towards your bedroom. You got ready for bed on autopilot, exhausted as you always were after work.

Wiping off your makeup in the mirror, you hovered over the broken heart on your cheek, recalling just how fast that conversation had gone downhill, then Shotaro getting punched later in the night. Letting out a deep breath, you finished up in the bathroom and shut that light off. After changing into your pajamas, you lay in bed alone, staring up at your ceiling. Alone. You’d be going back to Venue:Hell in less than ten hours. And after that, you’d come home again. Alone. Then go back to work. Then come home. Then go back. Then come home. Work. Home. Work. Home. Work. Home. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

The line rang, and rang, and with every ring, your urge to hang up grew. Of fucking course he didn’t want to talk to you—

“Y/N?” Shotaro’s voice was foggy, and it was apparent you’d woken him.

“Taro, hey,” you said quietly, already regretting this. “I woke you up, didn’t I? Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, and you heard the sounds of him rolling over and readjusting in bed. “Is everything okay? You’re not still at work, are you?”

“No, no, I’m home.”

“Okay, good.”

“Uhm, I just—” You were cut off by a very loud yawn from him. “Sorry, it’s really late and you’ve got to be tired. We can do this later.”

“No, go ahead. You apparently thought it was important enough to call me at fuck you a.m. in the morning,” he chuckled sleepily. “We can do it now. I won’t interrupt again. Promise.”

You took a deep breath, still staring at the inky dark expanse of your ceiling. “I just was thinking… some more… And I do really like you, and if you still… want to… Do you have plans later?”

You heard something thunk, and a loud clunk right by the mic, making you wince away from your speaker, then the distant sounds of him cursing as he scrambled around.

“Sorry, dropped you,” he apologized, sounding much more awake now. “You mean like, not for work?”

“Yeah, like, hanging out. Not at work,” you confirmed. God, is your heartbeat always this fucking loud?

“Yes, absolutely. Yes! Fuck!” He agreed giddily, and you couldn’t help but grin too.

“Okay, uhm, I have to get the venue set up for a show at seven tonight, but we could do lunch before or something? If that works for you?”

“Totally! Yes!”

“Cool.” You smiled at your screen as you checked the time. “It is way too fucking late. Just text me when you wake up and we can sort everything out then.”

“I will. Absolutely.”

“I’ll talk to you then.”

“Yes.”

“Thanks, Taro. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

After some much-needed sleep, you slowly got up, sitting at the edge of your bed, letting your feet graze the carpet below. You were home now, alone, and later you’d be going to work. But before that, you were going to be doing something else. Going somewhere else with someone else.

Speaking of, your phone rang, an incoming call from Shotaro. You picked it up, still rubbing sleep out of one eye. “Mm?”

“Was it real?” He asked in lieu of a greeting.

“What?” You chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I need a lobotomy right now, or are we actually going on a date?”

You burst into laughter, holding your phone away from your mouth as your laughter devolved into a coughing fit, blindly grabbing for your water cup from your nightstand. After recovering enough, you finally answered, “Hold off on the lobotomy for now.”

“Oh, it was real,” he let out a sigh of relief. “God, I seriously woke up and couldn’t tell if I had dreamt that whole conversation or not.”

“No, I really did call you at ‘fuck you a.m. in the morning’ last night, sorry.”

He snickered. “I said that?”

“You did.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to call me at fuck you a.m. any night, especially if it’s going to be something that good.” His grin was audible through the phone. “So what time should I pick you up?”

“We haven’t even decided where we’re going?”

“Lunch,” he said confidently. “I’ve got it. You did the hard part, let me do the rest.”

You looked at the time on your phone. “Two hours?”

“Done. Send me your address.”

“Hey—Oh my God,” you cut yourself off laughing, covering your face as soon as you saw Shotaro standing there with a bouquet of flowers. “You seriously—Oh my God.”

“What? What is funny about this?” He held them out to you even more insistently.

You accepted them, still shaking your head. “Nothing. Come in so I can put them in water.”

He obliged, quietly closing your door behind him.

“I just honestly don’t think a man has ever brought me flowers,” you admitted, opening your cabinet to try to find some kind of vessel. “I was caught off-guard. I didn’t mean to laugh in your face, I’m sorry. You’re very sweet, Taro.”

“Seriously?” He watched you bring down an old empty water jug and fill it up from your sink, then plop the flowers in there.

“Seriously.” You paused in front of him, eyes focused on his left cheek, where a bruise had blossomed out far beyond the edges of the bandage you’d applied last night. Frowning, you delicately touched just under his cheekbone. “How is it?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured you, letting you continue to inspect the wound. “Barely even feel it.”

“Liar.”

He beamed. “Maybe.”

“You know that I’m going to be kind of bad at this, right?” You asked in a lull in conversation at lunch, picking at your food with your utensil.

“At… eating?” Shotaro asked in turn, his cheeks full with his own food as he looked at you with wide, confused eyes. “You seem to be doing pretty alright to me.”

“No,” you chuckled and shook your head. “At… this.” You pointed between the two of you. “It’s been a while, and I didn’t have the best experience last time.”

He swallowed and nodded, offering his hand out across the table, palm up. “I know.” Hesitantly, you put your own hand in his, and he squeezed yours gently, a soft smile on his face as he gazed at you. “Like I said, you already did the hard part, that’s why I’m taking care of everything else today. I get how difficult it must be for you to be doing this right now.”

“Thanks.” You squeezed his hand back.

“You really don’t have to do this,” you sighed as you and Shotaro walked down the sidewalks together after lunch.

“What are you talking about? Of course I have to make sure my girlfriend gets to work safe,” he scoffed, elbowing you.

“Hey hey hey!” You smacked his arm. “We’ve been on one date, kinda. What’s with the g-word?”

“‘The g-word,’” he repeated with a snicker. “If it makes you feel better, you can call me the b-word.”

“Bitch?” You blinked at him innocently.

He elbowed you again. “Rude!”

You laughed loudly, clutching your stomach as you had to stop to catch your breath. “Come on, you walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, I did.” He agreed, watching you with a fond smile on his face.

“I’m serious though, you can’t just be throwing words like that around after one kinda-date.”

Shotaro grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as you kept walking. “And what is the difference between a date and a kinda-date?”

“I don’t know. We were just like… hanging out. You know?” You shrugged. “I don’t know, I told you I was going to be bad at this!”

He laughed. “I brought you flowers, paid for your lunch, we’re holding hands… I’m failing to see how this isn’t date behavior.”

You looked down at your entwined hands, skin heating up. “Point taken.”

You’d made it to Venue:Hell and approached the back door, taking your keys out of your pocket.

“You know what else people do on dates?” He asked slyly, tugging on your hand so you’d turn around and face him. “Kiss goodbye.”

“Talking like I’ve never been on a date ever,” you scoffed, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him closer. You smiled when you saw his cheeks turn bright pink—no blush necessary this time. Shotaro’s hands landed on your waist as you grabbed the back of his neck and slotted your lips together. The cool metal of his lip ring pressed against your skin, made even colder by the crisp weather outside. He met you beat for beat, never taking over, following your lead until you finally broke apart. The kiss was sweet, reminiscent of the boba tea you’d grabbed after lunch.

“Ah, shit,” he chuckled, hanging his head.

“What?”

“Now I don’t want to go.” He snuck another kiss to your cheek, just grazing the corner of your mouth.

“You’re a menace.” You sighed, in a similar predicament. With warning in your voice, you said, “You can hang out—”

“Yes!” He cheered.

“—until somebody else gets here,” you finished your sentence pointedly, turning around to unlock the door. “Because some people actually work around here, and you’re not performing tonight.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only person who actually does any work around here,” he teased.

“I know, which is why I can’t have you distracting everyone else even more.” You unlocked the door and disabled the alarm, leading Shotaro in by the hand.

“I’m not a distraction!”

“All you’ve been doing for the past six months is distracting me.”

“I help you!”

You clicked your tongue. “And get injured in the process.”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, following you into the office. “It’s the thought that counts?”

“Let me change your band-aid, while you’re here,” you offered, pointing to the desk chair. “You’ve still got the same gross one on from last night.”

Shotaro peeled off the old bandage and tossed it in the trash while you grabbed a new one from the first aid kit.

“I’m going to have to tell Kun,” you said carefully, opening the new band-aid. “About this.”

He stayed still as you applied the new bandage, then asked, “Me getting punched or us going out?”

“Both.” You groaned and rubbed your face. “Ugh, I don’t even know which one I should start with. Don’t say anything until I tell him, please.”

“I will not tell anybody else until you talk to Kun,” he promised, the phrasing making you narrow your eyes.

“You already told all your bandmates.”

He folded immediately. “Can you blame me? I was excited!”

“The whole building is going to know by soundcheck on Thursday,” you lamented, covering your face.

“I’ll tell the guys I was kidding.”

“They’ll think you’ve lost it.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

“As much as I appreciate your willingness to have your best friends think you’re an absolute weirdo loser who would lie about something like that,” you patted his shoulders, “I won’t ask you to do that.”

“I appreciate that.”

You heard the distinct clang of the back door closing, and sighed regretfully. “That’s your cue.”

“Fine, fine.” He stood up, pecking your forehead. “Pick you up later?”

“I get off at midnight?”

“So?”

“Don’t be late,” you hummed, grabbing the door handle.

It was Kunhang who had arrived, clearly surprised to see Shotaro there. “Oh, hey Taro. What are you doing here?”

“He forgot something.” You used the most reasonable excuse.

“Maybe we should just start stapling stuff to you, man,” Kunhang laughed.

“Great idea.” You grinned, patting Shotaro’s arm as you continued ushering him towards the door.

In the stairwell, concealed from your coworker’s gaze, he leaned in, whispering right next to your ear. “I did almost forget something, actually.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, and he cupped your cheek, rings cold against your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct as you let him tilt your chin, connecting your lips. Your blood roared in your ears as you scrunched his t-shirt in your fist.

The back door opened, and you couldn’t reel back quick enough. To your horror, it was Kun standing there, blinking at you as his keys dangled in one hand.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, scooting right between you and Shotaro in the narrow space of the stairway. He looked back, speaking directly to the singer with you, “Nice shiner there, Taro.”

Shotaro touched his bruised cheek on instinct, giving your manager a thumbs-up with his other hand. “Thanks.”

Kun said nothing else, whistling to himself as he walked further into the venue. You looked at Shotaro with wide eyes, practically shoving him out the door as he burst into laughter.

“Goodbye, Taro!” You said loudly over his cackles.

“See you later,” he whispered back, shooting you a wink right before you slammed the door in his face.

As you turned the corner, you were alarmed to see Kunhang peering at you from his station. “What?”

“Since when do you call him ‘Taro’?”

Upon entering the back office, you saw Kun sitting at the desk, working on something on the computer. He held a familiar pair of silver sunglasses out to you without even taking his eyes off the screen. “I think Taro left these here.”

“Yeah, those are his,” you confirmed, accepting the frames from him. “Uhm, a patron at the event last night had too much to drink, and ended up punching him, by the way.”

Kun looked over at you at that information, lifting both his eyebrows in disbelief. “Taro got into a barfight?”

“He didn’t hit him back, or start it, really. Sicheng and I were trying to cut the other guy off, but he was getting pissed off.”

“Ahh, he thought he was helping you.” Your manager nodded in understanding.

“About that, we’ve only been on one date, and—”

“I don’t need to know all the details. I just don’t want to have to enter the building like that ever again, okay?”

“Heard.”

He cracked a grin then. “I will say—I like him a lot better than the last one.”

“God, don’t remind me,” you groaned and shook your head.

“And that’s the last time I’ll ever bring him up. I’m glad he’s gone.” Kun held his hands up in surrender. “Now go find something to do.”

“Ten’s not scheduled for tonight, so I’m on the front.”

“Go do that.”

“Heard.” You clicked your tongue and gave him a casual salute, heading back out of the office.

Kunhang found you again setting up the barricades for the queue out front. He squinted at you, then laughed, “Oh, those looked like Taro’s sunglasses for a second.”

“They are,” you answered nonchalantly, pushing the frames back up where they were sliding down the bridge of your nose.

“Why are you wearing his sunglasses?”

“Because he forgot them here, it’s bright as hell out, and I don’t have another pair on me.”

“That’s… reasonable.”

“You said that weird.”

“Well, here’s the thing—” Your coworker stopped where he was rearranging the barricades, facing you. “I don’t think you’ve noticed but I’m like… 99% sure the guy has a huge crush on you.”

You kept a straight face. “Really?”

“Yeah, the poor guy is like… so down bad it’s not even funny anymore. Kinda a bit sad, actually.” He sighed. “So I just think that you wearing his sunglasses… it’s gonna mess with his head, you know?”

“You think so?” You scrunched your nose, pretending to think really hard about it.

“Yeah.”

You eventually shook your head. “I don’t know, I don’t think he does…”

It was ten till midnight, and you looked between the time and the back door.

“If you’ve got somewhere you need to be, you can go,” Kunhang nudged you with his knee.

“Yeah, you’ve been checking your phone every ten seconds,” Yangyang snorted, scrolling on his phone. “Seriously, we’ve got it. We’ve done a bajillion dance nights, and Kun is here in case something goes horribly wrong.”

You ignored them, instead looking directly at your sound tech. “Hey, Yang, weird question: Do you think Taro has a crush on me?”

He burst out laughing, grabbing his sides as he keeled forward, barely catching himself on Kunhang’s leg. Still giggling, he sobered up enough to say, “Well, duh. Y/N, oh my God, I never pegged you for an idiot. What the fuck? Did you seriously not—”

The back door opened then, and you immediately spotted Shotaro descending the stairs, looking around the crowded room.

“That’s spooky,” Yangyang muttered. “Do you think he like, heard me somehow?”

“He was here earlier to see Y/N,” Kunhang said pointedly. “See? He totally—”

You simply raised your hand and waved until Shotaro saw you, immediately perking up and making his way across the venue. Your coworkers had half a mind to shut up as the guitarist stopped in front of you three.

“Hey guys,” he smiled at the other two, then pointed at the sunglasses perched atop your head. “Those are mine.”

“You forgot them here,” you informed him smugly, leaning back in your seat and taking them off. You let them dangle by the arm off the tip of your finger as you held them out to him.

“I told you I forgot something,” he teased, taking the sunglasses back. He turned the shades around, leaning in as he tucked them back into your hair. “They look better on you anyway.”

You left them there this time, grinning up at him. “I think you’re right, actually.”

“You good to go?”

“Yep.” You got to your feet, tossing your dumbfounded coworkers a goodbye over your shoulder. Shotaro’s hand found yours, keeping you close as you weaved through the crowd.

It was Thursday again, and you were backstage, monitoring the band as they got ready to go on. There was a hustle and bustle like usual, and right as they were preparing to step onto stage, you called out expectantly, “Taro? Forget something?”

“Oh, right,” he grinned and shook his head, jogging over to you. He held your face with two hands, kissing you right there backstage, his lips still sugary sweet from the Sour Patch Kids he’d been snacking on moments prior.

After he’d pulled back, you held up his in-ears and pack, which he’d given you when he needed a very last-minute run to the bathroom. “I meant these.”

You could hear the snickers from his bandmates as he took the equipment from you, rushing to put it all back on. “Yeah, that too, I guess. What if I said I’ve been losing things on purpose this entire time as a genius ploy to—”

“Go perform already! I’m sick of you!” You rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed him away, back towards the stage.

“Fine, only because you asked so nicely.” He winked, dashing back over just in time to run out on stage with the rest of the band.

“What the hell?” Ten was just off to your side, staring at you, accompanied by Sicheng. You didn’t want to know who was at the bar right now.

“What?” You tilted your head innocently, walking over to them.

“Taro just kissed you?” He looked around, bewildered. “Sicheng, that was crazy, right?”

“Huh?” Your bartender glanced between the two of you, seeming just as lost. “Have they not been dating this whole time?”

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