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didyoulookforme · 5 months ago

Text

need you tonight

part of give me a moment (aka stylist au as briefly described in this tag)

warning: 18+, smut. probably grammatical errors, typos.

au masterlist here

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“sorry—‘m sorry”

you’re pretty sure those are some of the only words that stumble past his lips as you go down on him. perhaps an apology for his ring getting tangled in your hair, trying to keep you close. but to be honest, the more cynical part of you hopes it's pure regret for fucking someone else just hours before.

it was not strange for you to crave a nicotine hit at this time, more often than not stepping out the bus to smoke a cigarette or two prior to calling it a night, that first inhale always making your head buzz a little as the all-too-familiar warmth runs through your limbs, a much welcome sensation to try leave the tiredness behind.

every day was like clockwork. bus arrives at the venue. stage and lighting are assembled. band soundchecks. you have a quick dinner. then it's time for him. after all, it's what you're here to do, work as matty's own personal stylist during the tour.

you had no clue luck had finally struck when you opened those dms earlier this year.

(13:43) trumanblack: hey (13:43) trumanblack: i found your profile via my friend (13:44) trumanblack: i really like your style n you look pretty cool

(13:58) trumanblack: sorry if this sounds creepy. promise i'm a real human tho (13:58) trumanblack: x

you didn’t recognize him. however from a swift scroll through the feed, you gathered that his name was matty. apparently the front man of a seemingly popular band with a fanbase head-over-heels lusting for them.

mostly him, though.

you couldn't help but gaze at his lanky frame and pale skin adorned with ink, zooming in on certain posts to try decipher what they were. he definitely had a point of view when it came to dressing himself—sometimes a bit messy and chaotic, but for the most part pleasing to the eye, a quality you appreciated given your line of work. his seemingly playful demeanour across photos made it seem like he was perhaps younger than you, this time a google search confirming that, in fact, he was born three years later. april 1989.

countless press photos appeared under his name and you spent the next half hour swiping back and forth between articles, finding him intriguing enough and giving you the surge of confidence to respond.

and that's basically why you're leaning against this tour bus now. the friendly banter with a stranger led you to travel the world and do what you enjoy most. the fancy clothes. the colourful glitz. the wild after parties. this stuff that you always dreamed about was somehow now your own reality that you often had to pinch yourself to ensure you weren't just passed out cold on the sofa back home.

however, this almost too good to be true gig also led you to fall for a guy, the same one whose collar you straighten almost every night.

the most fucking cliché story. some assistant falling for her boss just months after being hired. it actually makes you feel sickeningly stupid, embarrassed. still you can't seem to stop digging yourself deeper into a hole with every hour you spend caring for him, not being made any better by matty being nothing but affectionate towards you behind closed doors.

you know he’s the reason your nicotine addiction has increased tenfold, always finding yourself alone at this hour enveloped in smoke, part of you still wanting to pretend you do so to numb out the sleepless nights. took you a while to finally admit you did it as an attempt to cloud out any thought of him.

tonight’s really no different.

you’re not sure how much time has passed, but it’s enough for the cold to start settling on your skin. perhaps it’s your queue to stop and go back in. you snub out your cigarette, watching the red embers fade just as a car rounds the corner. it halts to a stop only a few meters away, and you catch the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by the murmur of voices filling the night air.

then you hear it. that unmistakable high pitched laugh that can pull you awake in a single second. him.

and, of course. you immediately know why.

you’d learned pretty early on this was a common end to the routine: matty picks up a girl at the gig, goes fucks her somewhere, and has her drop him off right after.

reminds you of the number of red and purple bruises you often cover up before his show. it wasn't rocket science figuring out the cause, yet he never really addresses it, choosing silence and averting his gaze as your fingertips dab foundation on tender skin, temporarily hiding any remains of nights prior.

you didn't even notice your eyes had closed. not until the car door slams shut, jerking them open just in time to see him blow a kiss in her direction. your heart fractures at the sweet gesture, but only hurts for a second before he's walking towards you, his stupid wide grin mending it better.

"didn't expect to see you out here.”

open button-up untucked. blazer over his shoulder. dark curls frizzy and disheveled. everything making it crystal clear he's just slept with someone else and still not you.

"only making sure you make it back alright so i can tuck you in." of course, you wish that were the case.

it's only a few seconds until he settles next to you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. soft lips gently brushing against your skin. the way he always greets you—but only when no one's watching.

"aren't you sweet, then?"

"trying my best." given the circumstances, it's pretty much all you can do.

he pulls out his beat-up cigarette box, flicking it open and offering you one. you decline, showing him the smothered tip of your own before finally tossing it aside.

"guess it must've been a pretty good time today," you lick the pad of your thumb before rubbing a lipstick mark off his jaw. it’s always ruby red or deep maroon. those same tones which he'll compliment you on. a similar shade you left on his lips the only time your mouth had been on his.

you finish cleaning the stains off his skin, matty murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ for having done so. it’s your turn to kiss his temple. “‘tis my job, you know? making sure you look good.” you should be mad, upset, have some sort of negative emotion. instead, you can’t help but have your heart intermittently flutter when he returns a sheepish smile, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you close.

neither of you say much, but that’s alright. you rest your head on the crook of his neck, noticing how nice it feels. how nice he feels. you see the chipped nail polish on his fingers. the wrinkled fabric of his flowered shirt. the dark hair down his torso. the unbuckled belt at his waist. it’s only then that jealousy creeps itself back in and suddenly your shoes seem all that more interesting than the man standing by your side.

"why do you do it, matty?" the sweetness of your voice never fails to mask the envy you actually feel. or at least you hope it does.

"hmm?"

"the sleeping around.” you finally lift your head to look at him, surprised that his pretty eyes were already on you. the toothy smirk is gone, though, replaced by a thin, expressionless line at his lips. he doesn’t owe you an explanation. you know that. thus why you’re surprised when he actually starts to talk.

"dunno, really.” he lights up another cigarette and you notice as he gets lost in his mind. “i mean, it’s kinda difficult to say no to sex or a blowjob when they’re literally throwing themselves at you.” he seemingly tries to joke, but you don’t have time for funny right at this moment.

instead you wonder if it’s actually that easy.

“let me do it, then.”

“so—sorry?” he chokes mid-drag.

“let me give you a blowjob just like those other girls do. just like she did,” you point at the ghost of that green car from before, “ just tonight.”

it’s like his face cannot figure out which expression to land on, flipping between confusion, surprise, and something else that reads between need and desire.

“what the fuck?” his voice is shaky and it stings when he pushes you aside, yet, he doesn’t try hard to put much distance between you two so it’s not difficult to invade his space, standing right in front of him until your face is a breath away from his. large, calloused hands grasp your shoulders tight, halting you from inching closer.

“don’t.”

“what’s the difference between them and myself, then?” seems like a simple enough question to you. “why can they have you and not me?”

but he has no answer, at least not one that he can properly voice. his hold on you starts to lessen, perhaps giving you some permission to let you do whatever you want.

you bring your hands up to his and pull them away, kissing his knuckles before placing them on your waist. an almost incoherent ‘fuck’ leaves his lips, and, as if on cue, his head falls back willingly, giving you the space to kiss his neck. the faint smell of her still on him.

“please let me,” you whisper against his skin.

it’s not even a question at this point.

his fingers dig into your hips as you look at him once more, now noticing a mixture of lust and care in those almond coloured eyes. for a minute there, you get lost in them, admiring how his pupils dilate when your hands find the button of his pants, and how they shrink back as you finally undo the zipper. you don’t want to waste any more time—you’ve already waited too long—so you slide your palm down his pants to grab his half-hard cock, his eyes instantly rolling to the back of his head when you wrap your fingers around him.

“is this okay?”

you take the buck of his hips as a confirmation, giving you the courage to spread the precum along his length. he feels nice. having him in your hand seems just right and you only hope that he won’t regret this when he wakes up next morning in bed.

tonight is your turn to suck on the skin alongside his jaw, the thought of having to cover your own marks making you smile.

“fuck, baby.”

you’re not sure if he even noticed that sweet name leave his mouth, but you like the sound of it, and it’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, dragging his pants and boxers down just enough to pull out his dick.

you look up at him once more, his left hand coming to tangle on your head, his other loosely holding his cigarette, almost done and fully forgotten. you kiss his tip, your gaze still not leaving his, thoroughly enjoying yourself as he bites his bottom lip each time your thumb hits that spot under the head of his cock. his scent is almost too much to bear so you take him in one go, feeling his cock twitch inside your mouth. it doesn’t take long before he’s fully hard and hitting the back of your throat.

the plastic taste of latex is still on his skin. a sad reminder that you weren’t his first tonight. that maybe you are an afterthought. just another girl who he uses to make himself come. but at least it means you get to have him even if it’s just this one time.

matty. that’s all that’s on your mind. once again. somewhat difficult to not think about him when you’re sucking him off, those heavenly sounds coming from his mouth making your own slick drip down your leg.

you pull away to catch your breath, using your hand to keep stroking him, pleasantly surprised when he pulls on your hair each time your red fingernails graze the underside of his cock. you do it again and again until he breaks and fucks your hand, apologizing for not being able to help himself. it’s a sight you’ll commit to memory as long as you’re alive.

now that you’ve had a taste, it’s only so long you can go without having your lips around him. and that’s what you do, take him again, hands urging his hips to fuck your mouth. to fuck himself senseless in the hopes that you’ll be the one he turns to when he needs somebody else. he doesn’t deny your request, throwing away the wasted cigarette to guide you, setting a pace that allows him to stay steady on his feet.

purely drunk on him, you're barely aware when his phone vibrates in his pocket, matty muttering 'sorry' before grabbing and letting it drop onto the grass at your side. nosiness always gets the best of you, so you can't help but glance down, catching sight of a text from an unsaved number asking if he could fuck her again tomorrow.

you feel his hips falter. he knows you've seen it.

“’m sorry.”

this time it's a mix between a cry and a whimper. perhaps he did feel bad. perhaps some part of him did care about you in the way that you needed him to.

you reach back to place your hand on top of his, making him push your head further into him, to thrust into you until tears pool at your lashes just as he spills hard and fast down your throat. his taste overtakes every cell of your being as you swallow, feeling him soften against your tongue before you reluctantly pull away.

you didn’t even realize your knees were so sore until you stand up, not wasting a second to ask him is he's going to see her again the following night.

"do you want me to?" his thumb wipes away some of his cum off the corner of your lip. you reach out to suck it, slowly shaking your head in response.

he laughs nervously as his mouth clashes against yours, stealing both the air from your lungs. this wasn't the first time you’d kissed, but this wasn’t like before. the way he quietly moans against your lips. the softness of his fingers resting on your face. the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he pulls back.

"can i see you tomorrow, then?"

you could’ve sworn you heart stopped. can you truly believe those words after watching him leave you behind all those nights? the soft circles his thumbs draw on your skin do feel sincere, the reassurance you need to perhaps let him in, give him a chance even though you know it’s a slippery one.

it’s your turn to brush your thumb against his mouth, slowly pulling at the bottom lip and watching it bounce back up into place. you kiss him one last time before confirming 'okay', immediately turning to finally head back in. not wanting to linger for too long in case he changes his mind.

you catch his reflection on the mirror, noticing as he tucks himself in, and it’s that slight smile on his face which keeps you awake for hours on end.

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for this lovely anon here. thank you for the inspo :) <3

#wrote most of this while high so i apologize if it doesn't make sense #give me a moment #stylist au #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy imagine #gmam #mw

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xxcallmemaryxx · 1 year ago

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Vessel x GN reader

Vessel loves you, but he refuses to tell you. So instead, he writes songs about you... you'd never figure out who the songs are really about right? ...Right?

(A fully fleshed out fic of this.)

It's an odd little arrangement the four of you have made. You met the boys after you were hired to help keep things in check for them during tours, kind of like an assistant. The four of them living together on the same bus for weeks? Yeah, they learned pretty quickly things were going to fall apart if they didn't get some extra help real quick. From then you formed a friendship, which has grown into a connection the four of you share that you seriously couldn't picture yourself living without. To say that the four of you are close is a major understatement.

Vessel though… Vessel found himself thinking about you more than what he felt a normal friend should be thinking about another friend. He found himself smiling for ages after every time you two conversed. He found himself trying to quell his trembling hands every time you stood or sat real close to him. He found his heart racing every time you entered the room he was in, and don't even get him started on how long and… weird… his days felt when he knew he wasn't going to see you. He knew damn well what it meant. Of course he knew. So he swore to himself never to tell you. He had well and truly fallen for you, but Vessel knows he is a hard lover. The horrid little voice of anxiety in his head convinced him that it would scare you off. That he would be too much and you wouldn't be able to handle it… that you'd leave. You'd leave him, you'd leave all of them and he would be entirely to blame for it. So he decided he would keep it to himself… as best as he could anyways.

II, III and IV watch the two of you. They sit back and watch him long for you. Long to touch you and hold you and to just whisk you away to love you and keep you all to himself. And they watch as you continue on without a clue in the world. You don't ever catch on to it. Too busy working and keeping the four of them in check, which to be fair… they are beyond grateful for… but they are astonished at how obvious Vessel is being and you just… don't notice.

It gets to a point where Vessel needs an outlet. Something to get the things he is dying to say to you… to do with you… to do to you… out of his head. He fears if he doesn't then he'll break. He will snap and it will all come flying out of his mouth and into the air before he can stop himself. The fear that fills him at the thought of that reality is unreal. So he starts writing it all down.

Once he started he could not stop. Writing songs about you he knew the world would never see. How could he ever let them? How could he ever let the world see you the way he sees you? It's selfish, he knows. But he's almost possessive over these lyrics. They are you. They are you when you're glowing. They are you when you're half asleep on an early morning. They are you when you're absolutely exhausted after a long day. They are you when you're just not doing too well. And Vessel just can't share that with anyone. He can't do it. He wants you to himself bad enough as it is, so the only way he can have that is through the words he writes. Why would he give that away too?

His mind works against him though, trying to see how far he can push this. He doesn't know why he did it… but he'd written something a little less obvious, a verse he’d come up with, something about your voice. How it makes him feel, how he'd never get bored of it. Really, the piece was well written, he knew enough about writing music to know what worked and what didn't, and again, Vessel really doesn't know why he did it… but he found himself standing in front of you with the damned piece of paper in his stretched out hand. Willing you to read it. He watches you take the sheet, eyes flicking over the few lines once, twice… three, four, five times. Taking them in, letting the words process. The way your eyes lit up, and the smile that he watched grow on your lips was all the feedback he needed. Your reaction was so pure, praising him for his talent and gushing about how beautiful the lyrics were. His heart raced as he walked away with an even bigger smile on his face. He can't help but think about how right you are… the words were beautiful because they were you. Vessel stayed awake that whole night. His mind overflowing with thoughts of you, he swears his hand could not keep up with the words he needed to say. His pen scribbling so fast over the papers he had spread around him, he almost tore a hole in them.

This became a dangerous little game he played with himself. The lesser obvious of the lyrics he'd write about you would end up in your hand at some point or another. And he would eagerly stand back and watch you soak the words in, watch as you admire them and in return, admire him. The praise you would reward him with would play over and over and over again in his head. You honestly turned into a drug for him, he had become addicted to how much you loved reading the small things he'd written, yet being so unaware of what the lyrics meant or where they came from. He just wanted you. So bad. So he pushed it a little further…

You're standing at the small kitchenette inside the tour bus the boys share, making yourself a coffee. Vessel's form fills the hallway as he glides through it, his eyes locked on you and a piece of paper clutched in his hand. A smile grows on your face the moment you see him, and then it grows again when your eyes fall to the paper. Your hand reaching out for it before he's even made it to you.

Now, Vessel really should have thought this through… or at the very least taken a few more minutes to triple check the lyrics he'd written about you this time. Because he watches your face fall as you stare at the words. He watches your eyes flick over them two, three, four times before you look up at him in confusion. Vessel hasn't felt fear like this in ages. His heart is hammering in his chest and he feels like he can't breathe, you don't like it. It's the only thing he can think of… you don't like this one and he's gone too far and now you're put off by it and you'll never want to read them again…

His thoughts get cut short at the sound of you speaking…

“Vessel… where did… where did these lyrics come from…?”

It's a simple enough question. He knows that. But it's one he can't answer. And it's that very moment he realises why you are confused… you've figured it out.

His throat closes and any plans he had of trying to explain his way out of this one fly out the window. He stares at you, completely speechless. He doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in place and he can't breathe and he can't think and he's regretting everything he has ever done that has led him up to this point. He feels ridiculous… the only thing he can will his brain to force out of his mouth is an..

“Uhh”

He snatches the paper from your hands, crumpling it and tearing it to shreds with furiously trembling hands. His face is a dark red. He can feel it. His whole body is overheated with shame and embarrassment, he finally forces his feet to move, turn away from you and back down the hall of the bus. He doesn't know why he went this way, he could have left the bus, but it seems he is making really silly decisions today. He listens to your feet hit the floor as you run up behind him following him through the bus.

‘Wait… wait… Vessel just wait I wanna know…I wanna know who the lyrics are about…”

Tears well in his eyes as he continues to walk away from you, beelining to the small room in the back of the bus. Where he knows he can hide there. He can lock the door and stay there wallowing in his shame. He knows you're going to leave now. He knows you know damn well who the lyrics are about… you now know who all the things he's written recently have been about. Why must you make him admit it? Why must you make him watch the disgust on your face as he does so. Why must you make him watch as he loses you forever. How is he going to tell the band? How on earth is he supposed to tell them what happened and why they've all lost you too? The tears fall. They barrel down his heated cheeks as the reality of what he's done sets in. He can't believe he let this happen… It's entirely his fault.

He does indeed make it to the room in time… what he doesn't succeed in is locking you out of it. You weasel your way into the room and force him to look at you.

“Vessel… tell me…”

He can't say it at first. He just spends a few moments taking you in for the last time, admiring everything about you. He's sad he never got to love you properly, but he's grateful he got to experience you at all in the first place.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…. I wasn't going to do anything with them I swear, i am so sorry”

He starts rambling through his tears, the torn up mess of paper twists in his hands. More tears fall and he just can't stop telling you how sorry he is. He needs you to know he is sorry. He is so sorry. He can't even see you anymore. His eyes are so full of tears that everything has turned into a blur. He turns his face away from you in an attempt to hide them, he doesn't want you to see him cry. He doesn't want you to see him at all right now but he knows you're persistent. Should he walk away, you will follow. You put yourself in his line of sight again, and he watches you reach for him, for his hands… with the paper still grasped tightly in them.

He moves his hands away.

“Please don't…”

He's embarrassed by the sound of his own voice, broken and scared. You look up at him, a look he can't read written on your face. His stomach hurts, his chest hurts, his head hurts. Vessel swears he would do anything just to go back to 5 minutes ago, 5 minutes ago when you hadn’t read these lyrics. These damned lyrics. Maybe then you never would have figured it out, and maybe then he would still be able to keep you… even if it meant he stayed longing for you for the rest of his life he doesn't care. So long as you were still there for him to long for.

You realise he's not giving up the destroyed sheet of paper he's holding. So you reach for his arm instead. Gently, you wrap your fingers around his forearm. You don't quite know the words to say to him just yet, because honestly… you can read him well enough to know he is embarrassed… but the reason behind his tears is still unknown to you. You want to reassure him, you're dying to settle him down and tell him what he needs to hear… but you just don't know what it is he needs right now. With his arm in your hands, you lead him over to the small couch pushed into the far corner of the room. He lets you lead him, which is relieving. A big part of you expected him to refuse you all together.

The tension is high, you sit next to him and before you can even stop yourself the question flies out of your mouth.

“Were they about me?”

You mentally kick yourself. You could have waited one more damn minute to let him breathe before asking. And the guilt slams into you as you watch another few tears fall down his cheeks.

“How’d you… how’d you figure it out…?”

He isn't sure if he even wants to know… but he knows that if he doesn't ask, the ‘what-ifs’ will eat him alive. His heart is racing in his chest and he swears he is on the cusp of throwing up. He feels awful. Vessel hasn't felt this horrid in a long time… you being the sole reason for his bright moods.

“Well… you mentioned a setting sun in Hamburg… and uh… well you and I watched the sun set in Hamburg Ves… after the show there? It's one of my favourite memories… so I just, I mean well… I just assumed. I don't know…”

The memory of that night with you floods Vessel's mind. Well after he’d realised he had feelings for you, he couldn't believe he'd been gifted that time alone with you. He spent hours and hours thanking Sleep for it. A memory he will never forget, and like you… it's one of his favourites too. So much so he couldn't not write about it… well, look where that's got him.

“Please believe me when I say I am sorry. I should have asked you… I- I should have asked you if it was okay to write about you like that I am so sorry… I won't blame you at all for leaving I really wont. I just need you to know I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'm sorry I…”

He is rambling now. The truth is out and the only thing that matters to him now is you know he didn't mean anything bad by doing this. And although you understand he is sorry… which you don't even know why because this hasn't upset you at all… the only thing that registered was the fact he thinks you're leaving.

“Wait. Wait what? Leaving? Why am I leaving…?”

His eyes finally meet yours. For the first time since he ripped the paper from your hands… and they're so full of emotion it breaks your heart just looking at them.

“Because you're uncomfortable around me now. It's obvious isn't it… I'm in love with you and you don't feel the same and now you can't be around me and now you can't work with me around all the time so you're leaving. You're leaving us… you're leaving me and how could I ever hold that against you? How could I ever force you to stay somewhere you can't bear to be anymore? I don't want you to hate me too…”

He loves you.

He is in love with you.

You.

For a moment you think you go blind. You can't see him. You can't see anything. You can't hear anything. Those five words slam into you harder than anything you've ever felt in your life. You don't even register the rest of his rambling because he loves you. Vessel loves you back.

“Please say something…”

His broken plea snaps you out of it. You didn't even realise he'd stopped rambling. His terrified eyes watch you so intently. They're so guarded. He's prepared himself for your rejection. Your heart is shattering just looking at him in this state.

“I love you.”

The world honestly stops around you. Vessel stops breathing. He is frozen in place. A valid reaction in all honesty. You let him process for a minute, you have a lot you need to say to him. You have a lot you want to explain. Fuck… you just wanna keep saying it. You love him. You love him and he loves you. You love each other. And you know you'll get there. Give him a few and you'll be able to say it all. But the poor guy was a sobbing mess just a minute ago and now he's looking at you like you've grown a second head.

It hits you finally… the reason behind his tears, you couldn't figure it out before but now you piece it together and your own throat constricts. He thought you were leaving. He loves you and he was willing to watch you leave him. He loves you and he was going to let you go because he thought that's what you wanted. He fucking loves you and he thought he'd ruined everything.

“Vessel…?”

“Say it again.”

He utters it out with what sounds like his last breath. And you know just by the sound of his voice it's taking everything in him not to lose his mind. You still don't know if he's even taken one breath since you said it the first time.

“I love you too Vessel.”

Sometimes you think Vessel forgets just how tall he is. There's been a few times when you've witnessed his affections towards II or IV and he literally knocks them off their feet. They love it, of course, and there was always a small part of you that longed to be on the receiving end of Vessel's affectionate moods… yet now… with you both on the couch, you don't quite have enough time to process how you ended up on your back with a fully grown Vessel throwing himself on top of you. He knocks the breath out of your lungs. His arms are wrapped around your back and you're lifted into his embrace quicker than you can think. He's up off the couch, you're still in his arms. Your feet dangling just above the floor as he holds you. He's breathing now. Really erratically. It's like he can't get enough air into his lungs. He squeezes you tighter against him and his face is buried in your neck. And you realise he's crying again. Holding you against him like you're his lifeline, crying because the person he loves… loves him back. You're not leaving. You love him too. You're not leaving. You love him too. You're not leaving. You love him too.

“Ves…?”

He doesn't reply. He can't. He can't even get words out because you love him too. He's hiccupping and sobbing into the crook of your neck, all while his hands grasp you desperately and hold you so close. You're so close. He is holding you. And you're holding him. And it's okay because you love each other. And this isn't a dream. He's not making it up this time. This is real. You love each other. His knees are going to give out. He falls back into the small couch the two of you occupied just before, except now you're seated comfortably on his lap, his arms keeping you locked tightly against him and you love each other. He pulls back. His face is puffy and red, his eyes are bloodshot and still full of tears but god… he's wearing the prettiest smile you've ever seen. Vessel is just beautiful, you've always thought it. But now, with you holding each other and openly loving each other… Vessel is so full of life again and it makes your own tears spring to your eyes.

“You wrote all of those about me…?”

You ask him quietly, you can't quite believe it now. That all those lyrics, lyrics that were written so incredibly and so passionately were all about you. Your own tears fall when he just nods at you. And there the two of you sit. Wrapped up in each other, crying together, and finally letting it sink in that you love each other. You've loved him for so long. So many nights you've spent lying awake thinking about him, weeks and weeks of admiring him from a distance and keeping your feelings to yourself. You swore to never tell him, or anyone for that matter. Your love for him and for the rest of the band outweighed your want to be selfish with him. You’d accepted the fact that if he didn't know, he couldn't reject you, therefore being able to keep your job and your beautiful friendships with them all. In your head, you'd rather love him from a distance and keep his friendship than risk losing him and the boys all together.

It doesn't have to be like that anymore. It's not like that anymore.

“Please… let me kiss you please…”

Vessel almost begs you, through his tears. Your eyes lock, and right there on that couch… in the little room in the back of the tour bus you press your lips to his. It's everything you'd ever wanted it to be and more. It's so overwhelming in the very best ways possible. It causes you both to shed a few more tears. To anyone else it may seem like you're saying a heartbreaking goodbye to each other, but really this is hello.

This is the beginning of waking up next to each other every morning. Going to bed next to each other every night. Random kisses every single day. Cuddles on the couch. Cuddles in bed. Hand holding. I love yous. No more shying away. No more pretending. Finally.

Because you love each other.

#my first full sleep token fic hello #sleep token #sleep token x reader #sleep token vessel #vessel #vessel x reader #sleep token vessel x reader #vessel sleep token #marys musings

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ginsengkitten · 9 months ago

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☆ Hint by ginsengkitten ☆

☆ Slash One - Shot

☆ A/N: giggling and kicking my legs

☆ Synopsis

Current Slash starts taking favor of his young new assistant.

☆ Tags: heavy smut, age gap, daddy k!nk, size k!nk, fluff, praise

☆

At some point, the agency had contracted you out as an assistant for Slash. It was rumored that he had selected you specifically by his own request. It was a big job for you, but you admit you were such a fan of GNR, so you accepted graciously at the opportunity. You were young and new to the industry, but committed to doing your best! It ended up not being too difficult really. His primary Manager had delegated to you some basic duties like scheduling, errands and random loose ends type of things, and the rest of the time was usually free to hang around. You’d met Slash briefly when you were hired, but for the most part he remained a hidden figure behind the curtain with a few brief meetings.

He was preparing to release a new solo album, so things were a bit crazy recently. Maybe that’s why he had requested your assistance more and more. He’d specifically ask you for things that his primary manager could have done. Small things but in a closer vicinity to him. Getting coffee, organizing, etc. Rumors began to spill of favoritism. Soon, wherever slash was, you also followed behind. Paparazzi also began to take notice. Due to the large age gap, rumors spanned from you being his “daughter from secret affair?” Or even londons girlfriend. It was no secret that Slash had taken favor of you. You didn’t mind one bit. Plus, you always had found older men attractive, and he was no exception. It definitely made the job easier. However, conversations and interactions remained a professional surface level. Well, except for the time he accidentally brushed up behind you in the tour bus. Simple mistake. Or the time you caught him staring at your legs when you wore a skirt to work for the first time. Also a simple mistake. No need to make a fuss. Any attention from him was preferable honestly. You became addicted to it. -

The conference room was stuffy and full of the usual music heads and managers. Briefing Slash on certain agenda items for his album release, metrics, things of that boring nature. You sat in your usual seat, the seat that one day, suddenly had your name written on a place card on it. And everyone knew it to be your spot. Coincidentally the spot was directly across from Slash’s usual seat as well. Giving each-other a perfectly clear view of one another. Your seat was a high sitting directors chair in the corner of the room. It lifted you high up off the floor, almost like a pedestal. You’d sit every meeting there and take your notes as instructed. Almost like a trophy he was showing off. One time- a guest had mistakenly sat there before you, and Slash, with his rockstar power, declined to begin the meeting until you had your seat back, and made the guest switch with you. And then he’d watch you. The entire meeting. Glances and gazes over at you. He’d appear so concentrated on the meeting but you could always see him looking at you in between words. You secretly loved feeling his eyes on you. Watching you like a Hawk.

It was a busy week, and finally the weekend. You’d wrap up items around the house and prepare for Slash to come home and then normally, you’d take off before he got there. When it would be a few days before you’d see him again, you began playing a little game. You would leave small hints of yourself around his bedroom for him to find. One time it was your necklace on his dresser, then another was a spritz of your perfume on his pillow. Your lipstick on his bathroom countertop. He had caught on but never addressed it or asked you to stop. So you didn’t. A continuing tension between the two of you would rise. Each conversation still seemingly so surface level. Never very long or un work related really.

You were just finishing up things and decided to leave your hint in his closet. You loved this playful game you’d invented and he did too. You couldn’t think of anything to leave as the hint this time. Shoot. Then a wild idea struck you and you grinned devilishly at the thought. Would it be too far? Too risky? It could cost you your job. But fuck it would be so good! You knew it would be. You decided to risk it.

The next day on your day off, your manager called you and asked if you could run into work. Said it was an emergency, and Slash had requested you. Shit Shit Shit. You second guess everything. Fuck- okay well, this is it then. End of your career.

You dolled yourself up as you always did. You did your typical Barrettes in your hair. And the usual skirt and blouse. Nothing crazy.

You entered slashes house. Closing the large door behind you as you slipped in. It was quiet. You could smell the cigarette smoke from upstairs. You took your usual route around and then made your way to his office in the den.

“Knock Knock.” You nervously poked your head into the office. Slash was sitting at his large desk, that he himself made seem tiny from his own stocky and built up stature. “Hi Y/N” He greeted you politely enough. “You wanted to see me….?” You continue nervously. “Yeah, I did. Why don’t you come in here doll.” He requested. The nickname gave your heart a little flutter. You obeyed and stepped in fully. His eyes instantly scanning your body up and down. Glued to you. So unapologetically gazing at you like a piece of meat. “W-what’s up?” You ask. “Come over here sweetheart.” He commands with the beckon of his large, ringed fingers. You obey and join him behind his desk. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out your hint.

The black lace panties you had worn yesterday, you had hid them in his jacket pocket. The jacket you knew he would be wearing to a meeting earlier this morning. “I believe you left something of yours.” He says. Your stomach drops. “I-I oh my god I’m so sorry I -“ you start to scramble but he suddenly reaches out and pulls you closer to him with his large hand around your waist. You stood in between his spread legs. “Shhh doll. You can be loud later.” He says. Wait what? You start to blush. He traces your face and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear gently. “My pretty girl….” He whispers in a trance as he eyes you. Your heart thumping wildly.

Your legs weak with desire and adrenaline as you stare back at him with Bambi eyes. He patted his lap, ushering you up. You pause for just a moment. “Come here baby. Come to Daddy.” He coos and pulls you up onto his lap in a straddle. Instantly you feel his hardness pressing up onto your panties under your skirt. His large hands cup your ass under your skirt and start toying with your hemline from behind. “Am I…in trouble?” You ask earnestly. He chuckles low and heavy. “Well, there has to be some repercussion doll..” he says as suddenly he lifts up your skirt and lays a hard smack on your ass cheek. The metal rings increasing the impact. You let out a gasp of pain and feel him bulge under you. He smiles devilishly at your pain. You’re too stunned to speak but really don’t have much to say except that you don’t want this to stop. He cradles your neck in his hand and pulls you to his land plants his lips on yours. You immediately reciprocate.

Things get sloppy and heavy quickly. You connect with wet passionate kisses. Months of tension and craving unleashed. You grind your hips into him and rub yourself on his hardened bulge. He lets out a pleasured grunt and you a series of soft moans. It feels so good you just want more but he stops you. “Be a good girl for daddy and get on your knees.” He commands. You happily comply and slip down to the floor in between his open legs. He unzips his jeans and releases his thick hard cock. He gives it a few pumps as he looks at you. “Such a pretty girl down on her knees for me huh?” He coos. He smacks your face lightly with his reddened bulging dick and you open your mouth for him to enter. He slips inside your mouth and fills it completely to the throat as he lets out a long groan. “Fuck sweetie.” He instantly grabs a fistful of your hair and starts face fucking you to the point that tears well in the corners of your eyes but you don’t wish to stop. He watches you through repeated loud scratchy moans. “That’s a good girl, that’s my pretty girl.” He huffs.

After choking, he drags your head off of him in strings of spit. “You’re my pretty girl aren’t you? You’re just for me.” He coos down at your disheveled state as you pant for air. He helps you up onto your feet, only briefly before pick you up effortlessly and place you on the desk. He leans in and kisses you again, forcing your legs to open with him standing between. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you doll.” He whispers in between wet sloppy kisses. Goosebumps run throughout your body like wildfire. “Really?” You ask in disbelief. “I knew it from the moment I chose you. My doll. My perfect doll.” He cooed again cradling your face roughly in his big hands.

His stature towered over you. He traced his fingers up your skirt along your thighs. You felt the cold metal of his rings along your skin. He thumbed your clit through your panties. “This is mine too.” He whispered, as you feel a finger slide into you. A moan escaped your mouth. “So wet for me already sweetness?” He held the back of your neck as he pumped two fingers into your pussy. He let out of soft groans of pleasure and satisfaction just from pleasing you. “I think its time to make you mine little doll.” He pulls out of you.

The two of you make your way - one clothing item falling to the floor with each step, onto the large pillowy sofa by the fireplace in the den. He throws you down onto the sofa. He towers over you, his eyes eat up your naked body as he gives his cock a few strokes. “Open those legs for me.” He travels his big calloused hands up your chest as he pushes into you. You both moan in unison. “Fuck you’re a tight little minx aren’t you?” He groans huskily. He swiftly starts pumping into you mercilessly. His size filling up your entire abdomen. You let out yelps of pain mixed with utter pleasure with each thrust. He smirks at each noise you make. “That’s my good girl, taking it all in that tight pussy. You’re doing so good doll.” He coos out.

Sweat beading on his brow as his dark gorgeous curls bounced around his face into yours. “You’re mine now. Mine.” Sweat beading down his happy trail and up his muscular, thick body. His grip on you was tight as he pounded stars into you. “That pretty body. You’re mine sweetness.” He said as he bit into your neck greedily sucking on your skin. More pain with more pleasure. His massive stature overpowered you and you felt like you might break in two if he wasn’t careful. Knots were tying in your tummy as the pleasure increased. “Oh fuck Slash-feels so-fucking good.” You moan. “P-please don’t stop.” You whimper out.

Your desperate whimpers leave him smirking, sending him to the edge as you came to it as well. “I-I’m gonna-“ “Cum for me sweet girl, my little minx, cum for daddy.” He encouraged. He had you seeing stars as you rode out your orgasm on his cock. Your walls tighten around his cock which sends him over.” Oh that’s it, that’s daddy’s good girl. I’m gonna fill you with my cum now doll.” With quick hastened thrusts you feel his warm cum flood your walls. The two of you panting as he leaves you. He kisses you and pats your hair tenderly. “You did so good. My perfect pretty doll.” His obsession with you was so magnetic and addicting. “I didn’t know you liked older men so much Y/N.” Slash smirked teasingly. You blush incessantly.

“I’m going to take such good care of you doll. You just wait. You’re mine now, all mine.”

#I’m ovulating sorry y’all #gnr #slash #slash gnr #saul hudson #slash fanfiction #slash x reader #gnr smut #gnr x reader #saul hudson x reader #slash smut

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iced-nct · 1 year ago

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Greedy NJM

Pairing: CFO Na Jaemin x F Reader Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: Suggestive, occasional swear, jealous Jaemin Synopsis: Jaemin knew the second you walked into his office to interview for a sales role that he needed to hire you. Incredibly well spoken and driven, you reminded him a lot of himself in some ways. Except he didn’t want you for a sales position. Oh no. He wanted you as his personal assistant. Promptly after meeting with you, he let go of his current assistant to hire you for it instead. If Jaemin is going to be stuck at his desk for ten hours a day, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t have a pretty thing to stare at just outside his door. Maybe you’ll be able to tame the infamous office playboy.

a/n: just casually dipping in to drop a 4.5k Jaemin Apply Within fic that I have been working on for like years lmfao. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! I promise I'm going to be more active with my fics again!!!

Jaemin’s secretary blinked slowly at him, as if to process what she had just heard. “You are… firing me? Did I do something?”

“No, I just needed a change of scenery! And I’m not firing you, I am just relocating you to a different department” He chirped in response, his voice cheerful though his eyes were dark and expression firm.

Jaemin turned his back to her to head into his corner office, “oh. One more thing.” He turned, one palm pressed firmly against the door frame as he leaned back. “I need all your things moved by tonight. My new secretary starts tomorrow morning” He winked before slamming his door closed.

Today could not have been off to a worse start. First there was the hole in your favorite pair of stockings, then your coffee machine decided to have a meltdown, and finally you had missed the bus that would allow you extra time to grab coffee on the way to the office. As far as first day’s go, this was not your best. Having to settle for a pair of plain sheer black tights to wear under your skirt and ordering a taxi, knowing full well the extra money was well worth having time to grab a cup of coffee. You hurried out the door, laptop bag and purse in hand, just hoping as you hustled into the back of the cab that the day wouldn’t get any worse.

The line at the coffee shop was surprisingly not horrendous, it only took about 10 minutes before you were holding your iced coffee and making your way through the entrance to Neo Dream. Jaemin’s office was on the 20th floor, you remembered this from your interview. As you moved to get off on your floor a solid chest made contact with your cup, spilling coffee all down the front of yourself and the stark white dress shirt in front of you.

“I am so sorry! I was in such a rush, I should have paid better attention” You rambled, hoping that this stranger wouldn’t chew you out for such an accident.

“Miss Y/n?” You looked up to see Jaemin smiling down at you. “First day jitters?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed with heat, “I am very sorry Mr. Na. I will clean this up right away”

“Don’t bother, I will call the janitorial staff to clean up. We should get started with your tour, after we get changed” He tilted his head, indicating for you to follow.

The view from Jaemin’s office was stunning to say the least, the sun was almost up now but you could imagine the sunrises and sunsets that could be viewed from these windows.

“Yes, the view is lovely isn’t it?” You turned to find Jaemin, a sliver of his chest just barely exposed to you as he buttoned up a black dress shirt. “I apologize, I seem to have run out of women’s blouses, but I do have a knit sweater that may work” he jested while handing you a gray wool sweater.

It was clearly men’s, but this would have to make do for today. Just as you were about to slip the sweater on over your stained blouse a hand stopped you.

“If we don’t send these off to the drycleaners, the stain will set and ruin your shirt. I can’t have that, and I don’t want you to either. Just wear the sweater and I’ll send your shirt off with mine” His smile was charming, almost knee weakening.

“Oh okay… but is there somewhere else for me to change?” Your head tilted in question.

Jaemin’s eyes widened with realization “Yes, oh gosh I’m sorry, I will turn around. You let me know when you’re decent”

You turned your back to him and began unbuttoning the shirt. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin could make out the reflection of your chest in the window beside him. Not much could be seen, but the way the black lace of your bra held you had him wishing you allowed him to watch. Just as Jaemin’s dress pants started to get a little too tight for his liking, you cleared your throat, snapping him back from his thoughts.

“Thank you for the sweater! What should I get started with today?” You asked, whilst handing over your stained shirt.

“You can get started on unpacking your desk and setting yourself up. I have some afternoon meetings that I will be in today, so I doubt we will see eachother very much. Just answer the phone if it rings and book in meetings for this week” You nodded at the instructions and headed out, closing the door behind you.

You paused to lean on it, breathing slowly as the picture of that small sliver of Jaemin’s defined chest floated around in your head. In the office behind you, your boss sat down at his desk, taking all the effort in the world to not call you back in to help him deal with the situation beneath his desk right now.

Days had turned into weeks, and though nothing of note had happened after that first eventful morning. You had settled in wonderfully, making friends with people on the finance floor, accompanying Jaemin to the occasional meeting to take notes for him when he didn’t feel like it, and canceling meetings he had with Mark just because it was funny to watch them squabble. There was lots of extra chatter throughout the office as everyone buzzed with excitement for the first annual company gala. A newer finance colleague had asked you to the gala a few days ago, and you had gladly accepted, assuming that it was a friendly gesture from one newbie to another. Excitement filled your chest as you thought about how much fun it would be to attend this company gala. The excitement was cut short however, when the door to Jaemin’s office swung open. Your boss stood there staring daggers at you, dread rushed in as you mentally went through every file you placed on his desk today, every meeting you had booked. What could you have possibly done wrong?

“Y/n. Come in here please.” Jaemin’s voice was deadly cold as he strode back towards his desk.

You slinked in, he gestured for you to close the door. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked, hesitating to turn around to face him.

“Have a seat, we’ll talk about it” He nodded to the chair in front of his desk for you to sit.

Despite sitting, the load on your shoulders felt ten times heavier under Jaemin’s stare. He slid a small pink envelope across the desk to you, your name scrawled in ink on the front.

“What is this?” He tapped the envelope with his middle finger.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t seen that before” You answered, and truthfully you hadn’t seen it before.

“It was in the files you brought me this morning, just tucked between some reports. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and found out my trusted secretary is having an office romance with one of my junior finance employees” the smile that hung on Jaemin’s lips did not reach his eyes.

Your eyes widened “office romance? No no you’ve misunderstood. He just asked me to the gala last week, that's all. I have no idea what the letter is and I- wait. You opened it?”

The smile faded as he processed your words. Oh Jaemin would not have his secretary on the arm of anyone other than him, and he would make sure of that. Despite the other women around the office, who Jaemin had been making his way through, you managed to get under his skin in all the right ways.

“Sorry, I thought you knew” He started, propping his head up on his hands “secretaries are required to escort their managers to the gala. Mark’s rules” Jaemin grinned lazily.

“Oh! So I’ll still be working, right?” you thought about all the extra things you would need to prepare in this case, starting with a much bigger clutch to keep all Jaemin’s business cards in.

Jaemin smirked, “That’s correct Y/n. You have to be by my side all night. Make sure you let me know the color of your dress so I can plan my tie accordingly”

You nodded, your boss’ phone began to ring echoing throughout his large office. “I’ll bring you a swatch tomorrow morning” You spoke softly as you stood to leave the room.

Jaemin only nodded in response before picking up the phone “Mark!! How goes it over in-” His sentence cut off as the door shut behind you.

“What an odd day” you pondered while sifting through the hundreds of emails in your inbox. Mark had taken the liberty to have Haechan set up all Jaemin’s emails to duplicate so you had copies of important things as well. Unfortunately this also meant you got to see all the emails that lovestruck employees sent him without knowing you could see the confessions as well. After deleting what must have been the 20th email love note, you came across a thread that caught your eye. The email was from another female employee, detailing things she and Jaemin had done the previous night. From the sounds of it, you weren’t the only one engaging in an alleged “office romance”. There were quite a few more like that email, all talking about how they loved it when Jaemin did that “thing”. You weren’t sure what the “thing” was, but from the way he had these ladies begging for him via email correspondence you couldn’t help but be curious. It didn’t help that some had described certain acts in such detail, it was only natural that your head drifted away from work causing you to think about Jaemin’s head between your-

The thought was cut short by a loud thud from the elevator. Upon inspection you could see the finance junior who asked you to the gala had dropped a box of their belongings on the floor. The security guard who was with them helped gather their belongings back into the supply box before giving them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. You thought about going over to ask what happened, but a ping from your inbox beat you to it. ‘I WAS WRONGLY FIRED BY NA JAEMIN” was the subject line, there was no body to the email. Just that one subject line that left chills down your spine. You glanced to your boss’ door then back to your computer screen, the email was sent to everyone on the finance floor. It wasn’t long before chatter began amongst your colleagues on the floor. Everyone was curious to know about their former colleague scorned, making incredibly obvious passes by the now barren desk that once housed the junior finance employee. Jaemin seemed unbothered by the office bustle, opting to send you a teams chat asking for you to accompany him out of the office for his suit fitting for the gala.

The interior of the store was full of mannequins decked out in name brand clothing that had your bank account near tears. Though you were only here to keep an eye on Jaemin’s emails and schedule for the day, he kept asking for your input on the suits he chose. The swatch you had at home would have to wait for another day, though he assured you it would be no hassle to have a tie ordered into the office in the correct color.

“Well? Does this make me seem intimidating enough?” He turned his head over his shoulder to ask you.

There was simply no denying the fact that Jaemin WORE the clothes, they did not wear him. He looked stunning in everything, so much so that you kept catching your mind slipping off to imagine the things he could do in the dressing room. Your eyes must’ve lingered for too long without speaking, as Jaemin chuffed a laugh.

“I’m so sorry, yes it looks great!” you smile warmly at him, just as another ping comes through on his work phone. An email from Mark asking about the firing of the finance colleague and why he is now receiving multiple emails from the distressed former employee.

Jaemin cocks his head, one brow raised in question “Something the matter?”

You lock the phone quickly and look up at where he stands on the pedestal for his fitting. “Just Mark asking about an employee who was fired earlier, apparently he is now receiving emails stating that he was wrongfully terminated.” You stare, waiting for a reaction from him that never comes.

“Ah yes, he was fraternizing with other employees. Can’t have my department become a cesspool now, can I?” His answer is cold as ice, his face revealing no indication of what he is thinking.

You can’t help but laugh at his reference, as if he hadn’t been sleeping with multiple employees from different departments. “What seems to be so funny, Y/n?”

“Oh, nothing. Just your cesspool reference was funny” You roll your eyes, not expecting him to continue prodding. But he does just that.

“And why, pray tell, is it funny? Is my finance department a joke to you?” His eyes narrow, the shop steward who was pinning the suit even stops momentarily to give you a glance.

You need a moment to collect your thoughts. To try and decide just where you should begin with this. “You know Haechan set up my email so that I get duplicates of all the emails sent to you, right?”

Jaemin nods thoughtfully, before his eyes widen in realization. “You get all my emails?”

You bob your head “every single one of them. Mark insisted it was set up that way so you can never say you just missed a meeting invite in your swaths of emails.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in frustration. “Y/n, what have you been seeing?” his foot tapping against the stained wood of the pedestal.

“Just the usual. Multiple emails from Mark about meetings, Renjun sending gala updates, Haechan providing timelines for software updates, Jeno sending memes that he has made instead of marketing campaigns, Jisung sending you meeting schedules with investors for the week, Chenle sending selfies mostly.” You shrug, pleased with your answer.

“That’s it? Nothing else?” His tone is tense and his eyes are fixed on you, gluing you to the spot on the bench.

“Finance employees sending you updated reports too. Oh! And just the casual love confession, or excruciatingly detailed emails from your lovers” You smirk at him.

“I see.” Jaemin steps down, shooing the shop steward away as he strides towards you, “and tell me, Y/n. Do you read all of those excruciatingly detailed emails?” He leans down slightly, your faces mere inches apart.

You wet your lips, noticing Jaemin’s eyes flick down to your mouth before coming back up to meet your gaze. “Yes.”

He straightens back to his full height, now towering over where you sat. “Interesting indeed” he mutters before turning back to the shop employee to continue with his fitting.

The next morning you had a large iced americano sitting on the edge of your desk for your boss, along with the fabric swatch. It was odd, seldom did you beat Jaemin to the office. But today you felt extra jittery, especially after how hot his eyes had felt on you yesterday during his fitting. In fact, it was a shock that you managed to get a few hours of sleep. You had tossed and turned all night, thoughts of Jaemin taking you in the dressing room after your conversation had taken your mind hostage. A few times throughout the night you had awoken in a cold sweat, finally deciding to just get up at 5am instead of trying to get a few more hours of rest. That was how you ended up at your desk at 6:30, a large cup of tea clutched in your hands as you sifted through more meeting invites and emails.

“Good morning Y/n. You’re awfully early.” Jaemin smiled warmly, a glint of something else shone in his eyes.

You gestured lazily to the cup of coffee on the edge of your desk “That’s for you, the swatch too”

His smile dropped as he stared at the coffee and the swatch “your dress is red?”

“Yes” you nodded before adding “I hope that’s alright”

“That will be just fine, I just so happen to have a tie that I think is the same color.” Jaemin fixed a tight smile before heading into his office and closing the door.

A few hours later a gorgeous intern from accounting came by, stopping at your desk “I have an appointment with Mr. Na” She smiled.

“Sure, just a moment” you returned her smile while getting up to knock on your boss’ door.

“Send her in.” Jaemin said through the thick oak door before you could even let him know his one o’clock was here.

She left an hour later, hair messier than it was when she arrived and her stockings had noticeable runs down both legs. All you could do was cock a brow as she breezed past with her blush stained cheeks. ‘I’m sure I’ll get an email about that later’ you thought, mentally rolling your eyes. Moments later your boss appeared at his door, fixing his tie nonchalantly.

“Y/n, take the rest of the day off before the gala tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight, alright?” His voice was cold and detached, much like it had been at the store.

“Sure, thank you. I will see you then” It was no use putting up a fight. And it was certainly no use to ask him what had been on the tip of your tongue since yesterday. All you wanted was to know why that employee had been fired, and if their claim had any merit.

True to his word, Jaemin arrived at 7 on the dot. A swanky black car pulled up outside, the driver meeting you by the door for you to get in. After the door was shut you noticed Jaemin’s eyes fixated on you, suddenly the tight red dress you opted for felt all too revealing.

He licked his lips slowly before speaking “I get the feeling there’s something you want to ask me, Y/n?”

“Why did you fire that employee that asked me out and gave me that letter?” You asked, Jaemin just stared at you in shock, clearly not expecting that to be the question.

“I- well. He had falsified a few reports so I was going to let him go anyway, but…” He trailed off, turning to look out the window instead of at you. “I thought you were going to ask about the escort from earlier”

You nearly choked on your own breath “Escort? I thought she was from accounting!”

Jaemin hung his head in defeat “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I was never good at processing things. Instead of thinking though the issue I jumped straight to numbness, and I apologize”

You simply could not believe your ears, you had figured that’s what was going on. But somehow it still took you by surprise. “Wait, why are you telling me all this?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“When I interviewed you for that sales role, I had such bad thoughts. I decided to tell you I needed an assistant instead. But I had one already. I fired her to give you the role. I just wanted that pretty little ass outside my office. I wanted to rub it in everyone’s faces that I had the hottest secretary. But then you got that letter, and I noticed you starting to get a little too much attention than I liked. And I didn’t expect to like you this much and-” He rambled on before stopping abruptly to look at you.

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall “two people lost their jobs because of me?” Your voice felt raw.

“Technically only one, the other guy was getting fired for fraud anyway. It was just a coincidence. And I didn’t fire my former secretary, I relocated her to another department. That was poor phrasing on my end” Jaemin reached for your hands, you foolishly let him hold on.

This was an enormous pill to swallow. “So let me get this straight.” You squeezed Jaemin’s hands. “You removed your secretary, hired me because you think I’m hot, got jealous when I was getting attention, forced me to be your date for this gala, and then hired an escort to take out your frustrations instead of just coming clean and talking to me?”

“That’s about it, yeah” Jaemin nodded enthusiastically.

“I quit.” You pulled your hands back to your lap.

Jaemin’s smile fell, his eyes showing the panic he was feeling. “No, no you can’t quit. Who’s going to read my emails to me and copy down all the meeting notes that I don’t feel like doing?”

You shrugged “I’m not sure, Jaemin. I just know it won’t be me.”

The timing was lovely as the car had pulled up to the venue, the driver was already opening the door to help you out. Jaemin clutched your hand desperately. “Please, Y/n. Please just give me the night to make things right.”

You brushed him off “I will accompany you tonight, but tomorrow morning I will be packing my things. I’m sorry”

Jaemin led the way into the gala, his shoulders slumped in defeat. To anyone else, you were sure he looked angry, but you knew the truth. The first hour of the gala was spent greeting fellow colleagues and investors. You stopped to chat with Renjun, praising him for how incredible the party turned out, to which he agreed with a small smile and flushed cheeks.

“He’s into the party planner he hired” Jaemin leaned down to whisper in your ear.

The sudden closeness took you by surprise, but you couldn’t help but slightly lean back into his chest. The countless champagne flutes did not help the situation, no matter how much you wanted to not be around Jaemin right now, your other desires had taken over. Jaemin’s hand was placed firmly on your hip, holding you in place.

“I think it’s time we get you home sweetheart” He spoke softly, looking around to find the nearest exit.

You could only nod, agreeing that it was in fact time to head home. Jaemin kept his grip on your hip as he escorted you through the crowds of people, stopping only once to whisper something to Mark before continuing to the exit. Just as it had been when you arrived, Jaemin’s car and driver were stationed out front. The car door was already open for you two to get in, he helped you into the car and you slumped against him.

Sun had streamed in through the large windows of your bedroom bright and early. You cursed yourself for not remembering to shut the curtains before getting into bed last night. Wait, you didn’t have curtains, or the luxurious silk bedding, or a king sized bed. Realization hit you, Jaemin must’ve taken you home. But when you looked over to the other side of the bed you found it still untouched. You were thankfully still in your dress from last night.

After gathering up some courage and taking the Advil that was conveniently left on the nightstand you took off down the hallway of the apartment. On the couch you found your boss, drinking a cup of coffee while leisurely flipping through reports.

“Good morning sleepy girl” He cooed at you.

You squinted back at him “lest you not forget, I quit last night. And you upset me.”

“I recall. I also recall you chirping at me in the car that you wanted me to bring you here and ‘do the things from the emails’ to you” He chuckled, blush crept across your cheeks.

“I am very sorry. I will head out now.” You started towards the door.

“Y/n. Wait.” Jaemin rose from his place on the sofa, his long strides reaching you quickly. “Now that it’s not a conflict of interest, I was wondering if you would allow me to take you on a date?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “A date? Jaemin, you only hired me because you thought I was hot! I’m so pissed off at you! I thought I had merit, I thought I was good at my job!” You were stopped short by Jaemin’s lips on yours.

The kiss seemed to have surprised you both. Both of you stood in shock, just staring at each other.

“You are” His voice was soft.

“I am what?” Your brows furrowed.

“Good at your job. Mark requested we send you off to another department that needs a manager. I said no, because I need you to keep me organized. I have never made it to so many meetings!” He grinned at you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Could I move to a different department to be a manager?” Your head tilted in question.

Jaemin breathed a sigh of relief “Yes, you absolutely can. I can always bring back my old secretary in your place”

“Then I will.” You beamed happily.

“You will what? Move departments?” Jaemin’s hands squeezed your shoulders in anticipation.

“Well yes obviously.” you rolled your eyes. “But also, I’ll let you take me out.”

Jaemin pulled you into another kiss, this one much less abrupt than the last. His lips were soft against yours, and his hands worked their way down your body. Your fingers combed through his hair, stopping occasionally to tug slightly.

“Oh we have to stop. I still think about your first day when you had to change in my office.” He confessed.

You smirked at him, “That’s alright. I think about it too.”

“I’ll have the driver take you home and I’ll pick you up tonight. Wear something red again. It looks stunning on you.” He kissed you one last time before sending you off.

The next week was a do over of your first day, but this time as a manager for partner relations. But instead of taking an Uber, you arrived with the CFO in his personal car.

“I’ll see you after work sweetheart. Let me know if I need to fire anyone for you” Jaemin winked before placing a kiss on your lips before exiting the elevator onto the finance floor.

“Ugh, you are so lucky” another employee in the office wined before exiting at the next stop.

The doors closed, leaving you alone in the elevator. The biggest grin plastered across your face as you thought aloud “Yeah, I am pretty lucky, aren’t I?”

#nct dream #nct #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #nct fanfic #nct jaemin #jaemin #jaemin angst

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cabinetofquriosities · 3 months ago

Text

Love on the Brain

Agathario AU: Singer and Roadie

Warnings: Smut

Listen while reading!

Find the complete playlist here.

——————————————————————

Rio Vidal’s career had exploded in the past five years after working towards it her entire life. She was now in her mid thirties and riding the high of being an established phenomenon. She toured too much to hold a consistent relationship, but her tour crew became her people. One such person was a newer roadie named Agatha who had joined on the previous tour.

Rio had found herself noticing the woman more and more. She had something of a flair to her even when just in a band shirt and black jeans with her long hair messily tied up. Though she got along well enough with everyone, her brash attitude and humor caught some of them off guard. It only endeared Rio to her, making her snort-laugh whenever she said anything cutting. The two had become friendly, with the both of them still keeping a bit of distance from one another for reasons they couldn’t quite explain.

When the new tour began, Rio led by asking for Agatha back. Her manager, Jen, seemed surprised at the request.

“Agatha?!” Jen asked, “Like, Agatha, Agatha?”

“I don’t think we know any other Agathas.”

“Sorry, I just- I mean, she can be a little much sometimes. I don’t know if she fits with the rest of the crew…”

“I like her,” Rio said simply, “She’s funny.”

“She threatened to set me on fire with the pyrotechnics.”

“She didn’t go through with it, though.”

“That cannot be where the bar is,” Jen deadpanned.

“Please. I want her on tour with us,” Rio said, reaching over and taking her hand, “I will make sure she doesn’t set you on fire.”

Jen sighed, folding for her employer and close friend.

“Fine. But I’m not sleeping on the same bus as her.”

“Feel free to take the other bus and snuggle up with Alice in the bus’s private bedroom…” Rio said with a smirk.

“Huh… didn’t think about that solution.”

“See? Silver lining.”

The first day of the tour came and Rio treated everyone to a night out on the town to kick everything off. They ended up in a club where they took up a good part of the dance floor. Rio gravitated toward Agatha, the other woman with her hair down for once.

“Hey, what are you drinking?” Rio asked.

“Martini.”

“Dirty?”

“Always.”

“Let me get you another,” Rio said before giving the bartender the order along with a tequila shot for herself.

“Thanks,” Agatha said, taking her drink, “I appreciate you hiring me back. I know I didn’t exactly make the best impression with Jen.”

Rio smiled and made a little wave at the mention of her.

“Don’t worry about Jen. I love her, but she can be a little judgmental with new people.”

“Well, I’ll try to be a little…” Agatha cringed before saying, “Nicer.”

“No you won’t,” Rio said with a fond laugh.

“No, I won’t,” Agatha replied with a smile.

The two drank together for a while before Agatha took her hand, pulling her out to the dance floor as Suavemente played. Rio could barely think with the touch of Agatha’s hand in hers as she danced. She spun Rio and pulled her in, their bodies close. They moved together with Agatha leading. She was impressed at how good Agatha was, handling Rio in a way that left her breathless.

At one point, Agatha and Rio found their eyes locked on the other’s. Both seemed a little terrified at the intensity of the moment. In that instant, both seemed to be realizing the same thing. Rio froze while Agatha’s chest thudded with her heartbeat.

“I should get some sleep,” Agatha blurted out before turning around and abruptly leaving.

Rio almost called for her, almost followed her out, but was stopped when Jen and Alice interrupted.

“What the hell was that?” Jen asked, her head cocked.

“What was what? We were just dancing..”

“That wasn’t ’just’ anything,” Alice said with a smile.

“Don’t encourage this!” Jen said to Alice.

“There’s nothing to encourage!” Rio said with a groan.

“That look you both had says there is,” Alice said.

“Okay, okay, I’m going to bed,” Rio said with a sigh.

“Rio, you don’t have t-“ Jen said, regretting her harshness.

“I’m okay, Jen. I want to be rested for tomorrow. Big day and all that. Make sure everyone’s drinks are paid for and that everyone is on the bus by 2.”

“Alright. Rest up. Drink some water,” Jen said, hugging her.

Rio walked out before Alice said, “I think they’re cute.”

Jen rolled her eyes before pulling Alice to the dance floor.

Agatha had stripped out of her clothing and was left in her sweat shorts and tank top. She finished brushing her teeth when she heard the door close. She looked out and saw Rio come on. Rio took her hair down and walked past. She looked back at Agatha. Agatha tried to avoid her eye, giving Rio the message to leave her alone.

“See you tomorrow. Sleep tight,” she said.

“You too,” Agatha simply said.

Rio walked into her private room in the back and closed the door. Her mind swirled with everything she had been feeling. The look in Agatha’s eyes haunted her as she drifted off to sleep, drawing out emotions she thought she would never feel for someone.

She had never been good at relationships. She was always half in since she felt like she was performing with them the way she did for her fans. With Agatha, it felt different. Something inside of her relaxed when she was around. She groaned just before falling asleep when she realized it.

She was in love with Agatha Harkness.

Fuck.

She had not signed up for love.

Agatha was off the bus by the time Rio woke up. The two stole glances at each other throughout the day, one looking away when the other saw them.

“You didn’t seal the deal last night?” Alice asked Agatha as they carried a speaker to the edge of the stage.

“Seal the what now?” Agatha asked with an arched brow.

“With Rio. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I mean, Jen and I got together on a tour a few years back. The road just makes people closer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Agatha said, looking away.

“Okay, then. Don’t make her wait too long. Rio doesn’t show interest often.”

Agatha didn’t need reminders that Rio was notoriously single, never staying with a woman longer than a night. Agatha had also been fiercely independent, having been married years ago before it all fell apart after their fifth anniversary. No, Rio didn’t see her that way.

“What do you mean ‘nothing happened’?!” Jen asked loudly with an indignant tone.

“Keep your voice down- I thought you’d be relieved,” Rio said.

“I mean, yeah, but I’m more confused. Did she shoot you down?”

“No.. I didn’t really… I just went to bed. And told her to sleep tight,” she said, cringing at her own failure.

“Oh no,” Jen said, her eyes widening.

“What?”

“You’ve got it bad bad. She triggered a useless lesbian response.”

“Useless lesbian?”

“Gay panic. You couldn’t make a move because you like her too much. Shit, of course it would be her…” Jen sighed, “Sometimes I hate it when Alice is right.”

“I don’t… I didn’t… I mean… it would be wrong to pursue anything with her, right?”

“You’re worried about a power imbalance with Agatha Harkness? That woman doesn’t let anyone have the upper hand. She’ll be fine.”

“I thought you didn’t like her…”

“I don’t. She’s an asshole. But I also haven’t seen you like this since high school when you dated Carol. It’s been twenty years. If someone is finally making you feel this way again… well, I will unhappily support you.”

Rio laughed softly before saying, “While I appreciate that, I don’t think she wants anything to do with me. She won’t even look at me.”

“She won’t STOP looking at you. She just doesn’t when you aren’t. Just do yourself a favor and shoot your shot. Okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too long. The tour doesn’t need this level of yearning,” Jen said before walking off.

The show that night went perfectly. The arena was packed and every number went according to plan. Rio soaked in the adrenaline. Performing was like a drug to her. It fueled her. Coming back after a few months felt like recharging her system.

She thanked the roaring audience wearing a bodysuit that was dripping with diamonds, her hair slicked back. She walked offstage, hugging and thanking her crew as she went to greet fans by the tour bus. After an hour of signing autographs and talking with overexcited teenage girls, she walked to her bus.

She walked to her room, closing the door behind her. She was still smiling, still feeling the high of the show running through her veins. A knock sounded at her door. She opened it up and found Agatha there.

“Hey,” Agatha said a bit awkwardly.

“Hi…” Rio said, “What’s up?”

“Jen told me you needed me?”

“Oh,” Rio said, reminding herself to thank Jen later, “Yeah. Uh, come in.”

Agatha stepped inside as Rio closed the door.

“The show was amazing,” Agatha said, a nervous smile showing, somehow making Rio love her even more in that moment.

“Thanks. You guys did great with all of the setups.”

“So.. what was it you needed to see me about?” Agatha asked, unable to stop her eyes from raking down the deep V cut of the bodysuit that plunged down Rio’s front.

“I.. just wanted to make sure you were alright… after last night. You seemed… like I made you uncomfortable.”

“No! No, you didn’t,” Agatha hastily answered, “I promise.”

“Okay, good,” Rio sighed with relief.

“Was… that all?”

“Well… could you actually help me with this?” She asked, pointing at the back of her suit.

Agatha’s face flushed before she said, “Sure, of course.”

It felt like a special type of torture as they stood before a full length mirror, Agatha’s fingers pulling down her zipper. Rio took a deep breath, her heart racing as the fabric loosened and fell apart. She was left in her underwear. Both women looked at each other through their reflection.

Rio suddenly turned, standing face to face with Agatha. Agatha reached out, cupping her face in her hands. Rio leaned into her touch, gazing into Agatha’s blue eyes. Her hand reached up and gripped her wrist as if using it to steady herself.

“Would it just be a night?” Agatha breathed.

Rio slowly shook her head, hoping it wouldn’t freak the other woman out.

“Good,” Agatha replied.

They closed the space between them, their lips colliding in a slow kiss. They took their time at first, refusing to come up for air while their tongues danced around one another. As the electricity grew between them, their movements became more frantic, more charged.

Rio pulled Agatha’s shirt up and off, finding nothing underneath. Agatha was already kicking her jeans off before she lost balance and fell back onto the bed. She was about to get back up when Rio was suddenly crawling over her like a panther.

Rio looked at her, her eyes moving down to her breasts. She dove down, wrapping her lips around her nipple, grinding her tongue against it. Agatha drew in a sharp gasp, her back arching off of the mattress. Rio moved to the other breast, her dark eyes locked onto her.

Agatha reached down and gripped Rio’s ass, digging her nails in. The other woman let out a feral moan that activated something in her. In one swift motion, Agatha rolled them over, topping Rio. Her long hair fell over her neck in a curtain as she looked down at her.

Rio was so used to people assuming she was a top that Agatha’s move completely took her by surprise. It stoked the fire in her chest, making her need this woman more than she thought was possible.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Agatha said, gripping her chin in her hand, “I intend to.”

Agatha reached down, rubbing Rio over the lace of her panties. Rio sucked in a sharp breath as her entire body came to attention for Agatha. The woman had complete control over her with just a little touch.

“Mm… you soaked through your panties…”

Agatha pulled her underwear down her waist and legs, moving down between her thighs. She kissed up her form and wrapped her arms around her thighs. She ran her tongue along her slit before finding her clit. Soft whimpers left Rio’s lips as Agatha toyed with her.

She slid her tongue inside of her, yanking her closer by her thighs. Rio’s hands clutched the sheets. She stared at her new favorite view of Agatha’s head between her legs. Agatha let go of one leg before using her free hand to tease her. She slid two fingers into Rio, causing her toes to curl.

“Fuck! Yes..” Rio gasped.

Agatha’s tongue circled and swiped over her clit. She sucked while thrusting into her, crooking them against the most sensitive spot of hers. It didn’t take long for Rio’s pleasure to build. She gasped and moaned as her cunt strangled Agatha’s hand. Agatha watched her as she stroked and licked her through her climax. Agatha had a wicked smile on her lips. She moved up her form, nipping and biting everywhere she could reach.

She moved to straddle her chest, moving up onto her knees. She looked down at Rio, saying, “Now, show me what a good girl you are.”

Agatha grabbed the headboard and lowered herself onto Rio’s face. Agatha’s dominance was intoxicating. Rio found herself wanting her approval along with her pleasure. She ran her hands up her thighs as her tongue explored her. Agatha let out a soft moan at the sensation.

Rio’s hands settled on her ass, gripping and slapping it as she wrapped her lips around her clit. Agatha’s moan tore from her mouth at the slap. Rio would have smiled to herself if her mouth wasn’t full. She slapped her a few more times, noticing how wet she became with each strike.

Agatha looked down at her as she rolled her hips. She reached down, running a hand through Rio’s hair. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced. Her moans rose in pitch until they stopped altogether. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as Rio drank her arousal. She caught her breath, looking down at her and saying, “Good girl.”

She moved off of her and laid beside her. Rio surged forwards and kissed Agatha, her lips covered in her. The two women pulled back to look at one another. Rio smiled softly and played with the ends of Agatha’s hair. Agatha gazed into her eyes until her own closed. She snuggled into Rio, the dominant woman suddenly cuddly in her sleep. Rio ran her fingers through her long hair until she drifted off with her.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario #rio vidal #agatha x rio #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #marvel #lgbtq #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #agathario fanfic #femslash #playlist fic #Spotify

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avatar-anna · 2 years ago

Note

hi i know u said u had writers block and i have this idea for a blurb/fic idk if you take requests and please delete this if you hate it BUT i’m terrible at writing and can’t get this idea out of my head, mua/yn and harry are secretly dating, some of the crew figure it out as tour goes on but fans start to notice a girl at every show who’s wearing like subtly matching outfits to harry and that’s how people find out they’re together, i just think it’d be such a cute concept AND maybe H doesn’t realise at first and she won’t tell him till he notices and she gets all shy when he asks her about it 🥺

so, i actually already have a makeup artist!y/n. it was one of the first fics i'd ever written on this page. so i just kinda tried to do a continuation of it here. enjoy!

The Makeup Artist, Vogue Beauty Secrets, Painting H's Nails

"Five more minutes."

"You said that five minutes ago."

Harry pulled back, his swollen lips turned down into a pout. "Do you not want five more minutes? You're hurting my heart, here, lovie."

You giggled and booped Harry's nose before kissing his cheek. "I want all the minutes, baby. But I think I'm also the only one paying attention to how close we're getting to showtime. And I have a job too, you know."

Harry didn't say anything to your attempt at logic, just leaned in again, his nose nudging against yours until he finally kissed you. And even though you knew you should've already been setting up your makeup kit to get the band ready, you let him. It was hard to say no, it was hard to say anything when he kept licking the seam of your lips, urging you to give him what he wanted. You.

And because you were about as obsessed with him as he was with you, you gave in, pushing him deeper into his makeup chair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Harry grinned into the kiss, satisfied that you gave in.

"I'm gonna get fired for not doing my job," you mumbled a couple minutes later as he kissed his way up to your ear.

"By who? I'm technically the one that hired you," Harry replied with ease.

You rolled your eyes and pulled back just enough to hold his cheeks in your hands. "I have to get you ready."

He huffed. "It's not that much. We could even skip a couple steps. Save some time."

"I don't know about that," you said, brushing away a stray strand of his hair that had fallen in his face. "I was thinking about putting a little glitter on your chest, make it really sparkle under all those bright lights."

"I think you just want an excuse to rub your hands all over my chest."

"Well, duh. I thought that was a given."

As far as gigs went, being Harry's makeup artist was pretty low maintenance. It had been that way from the start, though sometimes you delved into some fun pre-show skincare when he let you. The bulk of your job was mainly with the women of the band, who were more than happy to let you take creative liberties with their makeup each show, though today would have to be on the simple side seeing as Harry was currently holding you hostage in his dressing room.

You were the one who liked to really go all out for your boyfriend's shows. The girls in the Love Band still needed something functional, cohesive, and something that didn't stand out so much since Harry was technically the focal point. So if you had time, you went all out with your own makeup, sometimes matching your eyeshadow or blush to Harry's stage outfits.

As you tried to remove yourself from Harry's lap, his arms tightened around your waist. "Just one more, and then I'm good."

Sighing, you kissed your pouty boyfriend's forehead. "Oh, my love, it's never just one more kiss with you."

*.*

You were waiting for Harry by the side of the stage just before he was meant to go on. Some days you went to the tour bus to catch up on sleep during shows or napped in Harry's dressing room, but recently you'd been staying to watch him perform. You knew he appreciated it, and you enjoyed the high energy of being in the crowd and watching your boyfriend do what he loved (aside from kissing you senseless, of course).

"Is it just me, or are we matching?"

You turned toward where Harry was walking toward you, smiling as he looked you up and down. When he reached you, his arms snaked around your waist, his lips against your temple as he mumbled, "I love it."

Looking down at the denim vest and jeans you were wearing to tonight's show, you said, "What, this old thing? It's just something I threw together."

"I don't know whether I should love or hate how cute you guys are."

Spinning around while remaining in the circle of Harry's arms, you grinned sheepishly at Ny'Oh. "It's a coincidence, I swear."

She laughed and shook her head, not believing you for a minute. "Yeah? And what about all the other times?"

It was no secret that you and Harry were together, though this new leg of the tour came with some new crew members who didn't know Harry was dating Love on Tour's makeup artist. You always blushed furiously any time someone caught you holding hands or having a little lunch date at craft services or sharing a kiss in what you thought was a secret corner or hallway. You preferred to keep things low-key, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that you were technically dating your boss, but Harry didn't have any kind of reservations. He was more than comfortable with kissing your cheek and calling you pet names and holding you against his chest in front of everyone. On tour, that is. Outside of the confines of a venue or tour bus, you and Harry both agreed to keep your relationship private for now, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves.

"I think of it as a challenge," you said to Ny'Oh. "It takes skill to be this subtle yet just on the nose."

"A fine line, if you will," Harry added, grinning from ear to ear.

Shaking your head, you said, "Nope. That was too much. Even for me."

After exchanging a couple more laughs with Harry and the band as they prepared to go onstage, you kissed Harry good luck and left to go find your spot on the floor to watch the show. You preferred to watch with the rest of the audience, though Harry always made sure you were within arm's reach of a security guard at all times. Just in case.

Walking to your spot a few paces from the barricade, you admired the wide array of colorful outfits and costumes fans wore. It was why you loved being in the crowd. Seeing everyone all dressed up in feather boas and sparkly cowboy hats and homemade outfits that matched albums and songs. It was inspiring to see the space Harry's shows created, and to be part of it in a small way.

"Your makeup looks amazing!"

Turning to your right, you saw a group of girls, maybe in their late teens or early twenties. Each of them were dressed in a spectrum of glitter and heart sunglasses and merch, wide smiles on their faces as they waited for Harry to come out.

You'd gone for a pretty tame look. For you, anyway. Simple base makeup with a pretty blue eyeshadow and daisies that lined your crease and just beneath your lash line that took way longer than they should've. But the result was just how you wanted it, so you couldn't really complain.

"Thank you," you said to the girl who spoke. She was dressed in a pair of jeans outlined in sequins, a shirt with Canyon Moon lyrics tucked in as a crop top. She also had her makeup done, her eyes and cheeks decked out in eyeshadow that shifted color in the light. "I like yours too."

You talked to the girls a little while longer, but when the lights died down and the song that signaled the show was about to start came on, the girls quickly said their goodbyes and faced the stage. Still, they were close enough that despite the commotion, you could hear them talking. About you.

"I swear, I've seen her before."

"So? Tons of people go to multiple shows."

"Yeah, but...I don't know. It feels like she's standing separate from the rest of us."

You smiled to yourself and tried to focus on the stage instead of eavesdropping on the conversation about you, which was forgotten the second the opening chords to Daydreaming began. The concert was like all the rest you'd been to, and yet you still weren't sick of it. Seeing Harry's smile and witnessing the sheer joy on his face as he performed made going to show after show well worth it.

And when he was in your section, he was always close enough to make eye contact, even wink as he sang certain lyrics, which would definitely earn him a smack on the arm later. But even so, it made your cheeks flush and your stomach flip with excitement. And Harry, who could read you like a book, grinned as he moved on to a different part of the stage.

"Did you see how he looked at her! He winked!"

"You sound crazy!"

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head. Maybe it was time to watch from backstage for a while.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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delopsia · 1 year ago

Text

Thinking about all the things Rhett had to deal with while growing up on the Abbott ranch and how his world tips on its head when you come into his life.

He's forever conscious of how Perry was born out of love, and he was born because Royal realized that it would be cheaper to have his kids working than it was to hire help. Poor Cecelia was so blindsided by her baby fever that she didn't realize why Royal went back on his "I only want one kid" statement until after Royal hauled five-year-old Rhett out to work on the ranch for the third day in a row. An entire two years younger than Perry had been when he started working.

And the problem with Royal, is that arguing with him only makes him dig his heels into the dirt, refusing to sway on his decision.

Most of the kids in his school worked and had their responsibilities to help keep the household running, but Rhett was the only one who had to do his homework on the bus because otherwise, he wouldn't have time to do it until he went to bed. Just like he was the only kid to miss every single field trip, because why should he go to the zoo with his class when he could be working with Royal?

He doesn't understand why his dad snaps at him for crying over his injuries but soon comes a time when he doesn't care about the bruises littering his arms. Gets annoyed when Perry cries about crushing his hand. Nothing's broken; there's no reason to get worked up over it.

That exact thinking keeps him quiet the first time he gets hurt bullriding. So focused on chasing the same small-town glory as his father that he doesn't mind the sprained ankle. Getting on again and again because, for a few fleeting seconds, the crowd cheers his name, and the sound of their applause is the thing he's grown to crave.

There was some point when the workload in the house started shifting. When Perry was starting to reach the end of his high school days, started to fight a little harder against Royal's iron fist. And with an explosive temper that nearly dulls Royal's, it only made sense that he started getting his way. Enjoying days off, weekends spent touring colleges, and venturing out into the real world, because of how his explosive demeanor always devolved into threats that shook his momma to her core.

But one less pair of hands on the ranch meant that the others had to take on more work, and with Royal's old bull riding injuries coming back to bite him, Rhett was the only one capable of taking it on. But just because you can doesn't mean you should.

Hiring just one ranch hand would have made all the difference, but the prospect of losing money is something Royal's always disagreed with. Slowly, Rhett's work days grow longer. Dinner time no longer makes the end of his work, having to go back out to finish up while everyone else showers and settles in for the night. Waking up before school to get a head start on chores, hoping he'll be done early tonight.

It never happens. Where he finds free time, Royal finds things he could be doing, and Rhett starts learning that lying about needing to do store runs is the only way he'll get a break.

The way Royal refused to let him and Perry have cellphones until they turned eighteen and could buy them with their own money. The result of a privilege revoked after a thirteen-year-old Perry got caught on his phone at two in the morning ended with a smashed phone and a brutal reminder of where the eldest son gets his anger from.

A rule that was forced to be overturned when Rhett was sixteen. All because something in the west pasture spooked his horse; she'd run him clean over in her attempt to get away from it, and he never saw her coming. He still doesn't remember hitting the ground, but he does recall the splitting ache in his skull when his eyes finally reopened.

With no cell phone, he had no way to call for help, forced to limp home on foot. He didn't get home until after dusk because Royal had written his absence off as teenage rebellion. A hospital visit later, Cecelia went behind her husband's back to buy new phones for both of her boys, but even the justification of keeping her boys safe wasn't enough for Royal. Because Rhett had made it home and was fine at the end of the day.

Then Rhett's eighteen, and he's just barely maintained his grades to graduate. He's got it in his head that he's going to move out, get out of this stuffy old town, and pave his own way, doing something, anything. But now Perry and Rebecca are moving into the house with their daughter, and Rhett's being asked to put off his plans until they get settled in.

He's nineteen when he gives up on trying to leave because something always needs him to stay home a little longer. He's twenty when he figures out why Royal drinks so much beer, gets hooked on the way the bitter liquid makes the ache in his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a while, he's happy. Because you can't remember your sorrows when you're drunk.

Rhett's twenty-one when he can start wandering into bars, and he's twenty-one when he learns that there's a group of girls who come to rodeos, hoping to catch a steamy night with a bull rider, no strings attached. It's strange to kiss a girl you don't know the name of, waking up alone in a hotel bed with hardly any memory of what happened the night before. But for a few splitting seconds, he doesn't feel so alone in this big world, and he's clinging to it with every fiber of his being.

Until that's not enough, either. The scream of the crowd, the electric touch of those pretty girls that cheer his name, no longer make his days easier. Beer quits chasing away the pain in his joints, the prescription painkiller for an old injury in his wrist had might as well be candy, and he can only escape it by blacking out. He doesn't remember getting that DUI, but Officer Joy tells him that he was muttering about how Royal wanted him to chase down a cow that broke through the fence. He's in such rough shape that she intentionally forgets to discharge him, hoping the day of rest will do something to get rid of the bags under his eyes.

She isn't quite sure what to think when she learns that he's practically been running the Abbott ranch for the past few years. Royal always fails to mention his youngest son when he brags about his ranch.

Then you come along.

A fresh new face, one of the only people to move into Wabang rather than out of it because your new job led you all the way out here. It was Sherrif Joy who suggested you visit the Amelia County rodeo once or twice, and you'd only gone because there was nothing else to do. Rhett didn't notice you until Joy came to congratulate him on his ride, with you glued to her side. He hasn't stumbled through a hello in years, but he can hardly get it out of his mouth.

Your face sticks in his head while he works, and God, he doesn't even know your name, but his heart is jumping in his chest when you run into him at the store, time and time again. Until he finally cracks and starts a conversation with you while waiting in line, and somehow that ends in the two of you standing in the parking lot, talking until the store closes. An invitation to get drinks turns into dinner dates, and he's got something to look forward to again.

All of a sudden, you're massaging his overworked hands and cradling his scruffy face like he's made of glass. Whispering about how he needs rest and deserves all the love you shower him with, and he's not sure what to make of that. Can never figure out why his eyes water that first time he lays his head on your chest, listening to the pitter-patter of your heart while you play with his hair.

His momma is the only one whose ever done that; she stopped when he was fourteen.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he loves you. Those words choke in his throat every time he tries to utter them, stifling him into a painful silence that he can't escape. Instead, he does the only thing he knows how to do.

He works.

Replaces the busted locks in your doors, changes the oil in your car, he builds the porch you say you wanted, and he tinkers away at the little household annoyances. You want a fence? He's got it; he just needs to get up earlier to have time to build it. You're telling him that he doesn't have to do all these things for you, but work is the only thing he knows how to do. If he stops, then what else can he give you?

He doesn't understand what you see in him; he's not as energetic and fun as those other rodeo guys who eye you up every time they see you. They have more money, they're stronger, don't have the aches and pains of an old man, and they haven't got the reputation of being the town casanova.

He doesn't understand how you look at him like he's something precious—some priceless thing that deserves the world and more. There will come a day when you realize you deserve better, more than he could ever hope to give you, and he knows it'll break him, but he lets you love on him anyway. Because a few months spent with you is the best thing he could ever ask for, even if you walk away in the end.

But you're not walking away. Fuck, he's probably given you more opportunities than the Lord can count, but for some reason, you stay. And you're spending your first Christmas together, he's buying you too many sweets for Valentine's Day and he's spoiling you on your birthday, only to get confused when you surprise him with cake on his own birthday. Can't remember the last time he blew out candles, only realizes he was supposed to make a wish three days later.

Selfishly, he wishes that you'll be with him forever.

You're taking him to the zoo for one of your dates, and for the first time in his life, he's looking back at a tiger, and it's so, so different from the pictures. There are otters, bears, cheetahs, and wait, wait! Why are there goats in a zoo? Hasn't everyone met a goat before? What's so special about these ones? And how the fuck are giraffes so tall?

Royal says the red-panda plush Rhett hauls home is a waste of money. He could have saved that money to invest in land or a future, but all Rhett can think of is how, when he squeezes it to his chest at night, he can almost deceive himself into thinking it's you instead.

But then comes that big argument; he forgets what its about midway through, because he's realized that this is it. This is when you realize that he can't give you what you deserve. He can't blame you, but that still doesn't stop him from breaking when you walk out to your car.

He doesn't know what the hell to think when he realizes you're in the room with him. Couldn't hear the squeal of the door over the choked noises coming from his own mouth, eyes so clouded with tears that he can't even see you. But he can feel your arms around him, and he doesn't want to hug you out of fear of this being a dream. Yet you're still there, and you're not promising you're never leaving him, and he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand. And it scares him so bad that he shakes with it.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to let go of him because he clings to you with this fear that you've never seen before. Words aren't enough to convince his broken heart that you're not going anywhere, and for the first time since you met him, he talks. Spills every fear and thought he's ever had through his hiccups, confirms your suspicions of how much he hurts, and unveils the sources of his insecurities.

Your big cowboy falls asleep with his face buried in your neck, and he's still there when you wake up. It's the third time he's stayed in bed and didn't go to work, but it's the first time he's chosen to stay. Usually, it's a physical injury that forces him to stay down, but this is an injury you can't see. A fracture in who he is, broken after a lifetime of increasing pressure that he never stood a chance against.

He follows you into the kitchen, no longer trying to conceal the limp in his left foot as he tries his best to help you cook breakfast. You don't know where his appetite came from, but you've never seen him meekly ask if he can make himself more fried eggs.

It's only after that he remembers the argument about how you got a job offer that would take you a few states away. Out of Wyoming and away from him. But it's your dream job, and it hurts to see Rhett's bottom lip wobble as he weakly tells you to go for it. Dreams come first, after all.

Like many things, he doesn't know what to think when you tell him your dream has changed. You want him to come with you. Leave this flyover town, find a job that doesn't ask the world of him, and share a cute little house with you somewhere in the countryside. He doesn't get why you'd want it with him, but fuck if that isn't the one thing he's always wanted.

Royal thinks that Rhett's lighter attitude is because of his recent decision to move in with you. Cecelia already knows what Rhett's up to without needing to be told.

It takes a year for you to move. Just after you lock your front door for the last time, Cecelia's car appears in the driveway. Neither of you can figure out how she knew you two were moving out today, but she's brought a box of things that her youngest deserves to have. Pictures, his first belt buckle, that first cellphone that got drowned in the kitchen sink, and a freshly knitted blanket. A housewarming gift. She says it's good luck for a couple to have one and to not hesitate to call if you need anything.

That blanket sits on the back of the couch in your new living room. Rhett only curls up with it when he's feeling homesick, which had might as well be the entirety of the first six months in this new house. He finds a job at a local ranch, is lucky enough to have his beloved horse shipped out to stay there, and slowly, his true colors start to bleed through.

Or maybe they were always there, simply dulled by the exhaustion that once seemed to permanently sit in his weary bones.

Because his smile reaches his eyes more often, and his prescription painkillers have long since expired. His body a touch softer, the result of a rediscovered appetite, and he reaches for you more than he does a can of beer. Gripings about his father are replaced by laughter that echoes down the hall. He's still got that limp, but he chases you up the stairs quicker than he used to. Those gaudy belt buckles never leave, and never do you. Always there when he comes home from work, ready to meet him for his favorite welcome-home kiss.

Rhett will never be the son Royal asked for, but he will always be the man you've dreamed of.

And he's more than enough.

#rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #delgato's warmups #delgato's thinking #tw food #tw alcohol

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lxdymoon0357 · 27 days ago

Note

Hello! I hope I’m not interrupting at an inconvenient time. I just got an idea for a fic.

Minho finally starts over his life and he gets a job as a professor in another university. Upon reaching the university he sees his old class mate (OC) from the class of 2006.Turns out they both have to teach the same class. The rest is up to you 😉

(MY GORGEOUS BOI!...I love him! TW. Warnings: mentions of suicide, breaking bones.)

A lesson in love...

Minho hurriedly placed his pen in his bag, kissing Megumi, pouring water in his bowl and he leaves hurriedly...hoping to catch the usual bus or train to uni. The morning routine goes by within an instant, but that was old.

This university, this one was utterly new. Having gotten here, he taught a sample class and he was hired full-time, Minho was happy to not be in-debt to that old headmaster, fucking sleaze.

Getting off, Minho simply walked, this new university was rather old, but had very liberal rules from what he read in the school diary, as he walked in, a few students greeting him with a bow as he greeted back..

The dean, stood at the gate, ready to show him around, a grin on the man's face as he gave a quick tour, before sitting him down in the teacher's staff room, a few janitors and workers here and there, bustling around to do work.

The dean quickly got a janitor to get Minho coffee as dean explained things to him and handed him his schedule.

So it left with Minho on his first day, ready to take his new class. Sighing, Minho felt his foot ache from when it was broken in his last life, his suicide led him back to the start right before Duna started school and right before Minho got into the mess of Wookyung and stuff. Minho walked down the large hallways, a few students giggling or walking off to their classes, as Minho pushed open the door-

Minho was suddenly sent back to high school in 2006,

He smirked at the prize in front of the class' smart-pretty student..the one who managed to always piss him off but also make him smile, you.

"Don't think you won so easily, Byun. I still have a chance.You just won the provincial prize" You scoffed, as Minho scoffed, "We'll see, won't we?" he asked, smirking as you patted his back while rolling your eyes and walked off, as Duna glared at him.. Duna never liked you, she always thought you were too close to Minho for your own good, she always assumed he'd cheat on her with you. And it always pissed him off..

But right now, he stood there as you smirked answering your students' cheeky questions,

"So do our seating arrangement do matter to you" he asked, "Yes, that's why you always sit with Miss. Kim there, don't you?" he asked, smirking making the boy scoff and sputter as the students snickered before you met Minho's eyes-..oh shit..

"Uh..May I help you?" you asked, pulling down your shirt a bit, smiling politely as the kids continued talking within each other, "i'm meant to be teaching this class..?" he asked, showing his schedule to you as you cursed under your breath, "Fuck.."

And so it began, two of you teaching your first periodic classes together..

Due to a bit of mis-planning, the headmaster explain as to why a few teachers were teaching two classes together, so sometimes Minho taught them or you did while the other corrected students' works or sheets or stuff..

It started small; a few scoffs, a few glares when the other interrupted within you two, a subtle eye-roll which turned to smirks as the other threw back a reply to whatever smartass comment one gave.

It wasn't long before you two got back into nostalgic rivalry within each other of interrupting the other with a sarcastic remark which made your students snicker or one softening the other's blow on a student who caused mistakes or did something or while pointing out mistakes..

It was easy to see to the kids of your classes to notice the chemistry of the two teachers who taught them literature. Most of them planting a few romantic gestures to one from the other, which only ended in more sarcastic remarks and more fun in classes. The months went by with minimal contact with Wookyung and Duna for Minho and more contact with you..

It wasn't hard for Minho to learn that he wasn't actually hopeless, he was just a bit too intense... You definitely had to soften his blows to students when he commented on their works, explaining to him how kids were rather soft.

This morning, Minho sat on your desk, sipping coffee in a black suit he recently bought for himself, a full-time job in this uni actually led to actually better pay, just as you walked in and froze as he turned to you smirking smugly. You scoffed at him, holding your coffee in one hand and your folder under your other arm. Minho grinned, looking at the clock you kept on your desk,

"Seven seconds late, L/N...How sad, maybe you should work on how much you stuff your mouth with jam and bread?" he said as you looked down at your blazer, scoffing as you brushed off the crumbs and wiped the jam from the side of your lips and shoved the rest of the toast you had in your hand in your mouth.

"Stop talking, Byun." you huffed, putting the folder on the desk as you looked through it for what is to be taught today. Minho looked up at you face, he never thought how pretty you actually were..

Like when your smile was so bright as you snickered when a kid made a cheeky comment on him or when he glared at you after you had interrupted him.

Or when your eyes are shimmering with cheekiness of interest when you planned something to trouble someone with or when actually read something from the students which interested you..

Or when you played with Megumi on your lap, as the kitty meowed and pawed at you, making biscuits wherever it could reach, which sometimes happened to be your chest as Minho softly scolded the oblivious kitty in embarrassment while you only laughed at him, it filled his heart with joy..it was stupid, how could he have known?? This was completely his feelings of FRIENDSHIP..!

Minho watched as you explained things to him for today's syllabus, as he nodded a bit absent mindedly, your students softly gathering, as you finished explaining. You were going to start teaching, when the coordinator pulled out outside for some talking as Minho looked at the students, most of them had sirs and cheek grins on their lips, shit they knew...

They knew he loved you..

"Ooo~ Sir Minho seems little interested, doesn't he?" a boy said smirking to the girl beside him as she giggled looking at Minho, making Minho glare at the boy. God where do these damn kids get their audacity from?

"Have manners when talking to elders, boy" Minho scoffed as the boy shrugged, "we're just saying what we see...We see Minho sir being in love with our other teacher" another girl said as Minho sighed, shushing them as the class almost burst into grins as if they knew his feelings and promised to keep them safe.

You walked back in, beginning to start the teaching process with a grin, as he sat here, ready to answer questions, a few students smirking...Promising to keep their professor's feelings safe until they were eventually invited to their two professor's wedding, of-course.

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honeytama · 8 months ago

Text

Make Your Move - Chapter 2

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Matt Dierkes

Fic Masterlist

A/N: If you left a comment on Ch. 1, I love you so much <3 If you’d like to join the tag list, lmk!

Fic Summary: Having known Matt for a year already, he knows your talents and hires you as his assistant for Bad Omens' upcoming tour. You’ve had a crush on Matt, your friend, and now boss. However, his good friend and your celebrity crush, Noah, takes a liking to you the second you step through the door. What happens when your feelings develop? What happens when they find out? You only hope your heart doesn’t break trying to care for two others.

Content and Warnings for Ch. 2: Fluff, some smut 18+, stress/anxiety, alcohol, masturbation, praise kink, close proximity

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @flowery-mess @abiomens @exitwoundsx @lma1986 @thatchickwiththecamera @narcissisticbehavior81 @xxkittenkissesxx @rain-down-on-me @doomhands-jr @justdamnpeachy (For tags that aren't working, I’ll try to put you in my replies)

The bus traveled for a day before it ended up at the tour’s first venue at dawn. The first bus sleep went smoother than expected as the morning wore you out.

You spent the extra travel time getting more familiar with the boys; chatting with them on the leather couches about their favorite music, hobbies, and their favorite foods. This was important as you were in charge of doing food runs and taking orders for dinners every show night.

The times you weren’t laughing it up with them or hanging out with Matt. You sat by the bus windows to focus on your many hobbies: crocheting, drawing, reading books, listening to music, and making playlists. It was surreal to watch the world whizz by as you sat alone in peace.

Although, you couldn’t help but feel an ache in your stomach thinking about your first show as assistant tour manager.

Matt was your friend, but now that you worked for him you felt as if you couldn’t talk to him about your anxiety about the first show.

For now, you brush those thoughts off your shoulders as you step off the bus into the alley behind the venue.

—

Nevertheless, the next sixteen hours gave you a headache. The guys helped you and the crew unload the trailers and help set up the stage for sound check by noon.

Matt set up the sound booth on his own in front of house, while you helped instruct the crew on how to set up the show production: confetti cannons, pyro, lighting, and video walls.

The guys did their sound check as you ran out to grab a small dinner for everyone. It was the easiest part of the day because they decided they wanted nuggets and fries.

By 6 pm, fans were entering the venue and patiently waiting for the opening band to perform.

Before and throughout the opener’s set, you were consistently running errands and making sure everything was set up perfectly for all the guys. However, every time you would try to catch Matt to ask him for help, he’d brush you off and say, “I know you’ve got this on your own. Don’t sweat it.”

Every. Time.

You loved him, but boy, was he going to hear it from you tonight.

How could he do this? The first night, even? You thought, angrily.

Luckily, the opener’s set went without a hitch and you felt somewhat proud.

Yet, the most unfortunate part of the night is the beginning of Bad Omens’ set. Being a fan for years, you had waited so long to watch them live, and you thought tonight would be even more special knowing how you affected their production. But, by the time the boys began Artificial Suicide, you feel a pain in your temple and a blanket of exhaustion drape over your body.

Side stage, you frown and make your way to the Bad Omens green room. You allow your body to rest and collapse onto the brown leather couch. The urge to allow your tears to fall and scream into the pillow is severe, but you hold it back.

I’ll get to see them tomorrow, you repeatedly think like a mantra as you close your eyes and fall asleep.

—

“Y/N?” Your name sounds like a whisper in your dream.

“Y/N, wake up, it’s time to go,” Noah says softly.

Your eyes slowly open. He stands beside the couch and your lying body with a folded towel and clothes in his hands. His hair is wet with sweat and his chest glistening in his black tank.

“Oh, my God. Noah,” you frown, “I’m so sorry.” You sit up and rub your eyes.

“What for?” he asks, concerned.

“I missed your set! It’s the first show and I missed it,” you cry out with your hands covering your face.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay. You’ll get to see us tomorrow,” Noah says soothingly.

“I would’ve taken a nap too, Y/N, today felt so long,” Jolly says from behind him.

“See? No worries. Did you get some good rest at least?” Noah asks genuinely.

“Yeah, I think I feel better,” you stand up and stretch your back.

“Well, that’s good,” he smiles, “because we’re going to have a little post-first show celebration if you’re interested?”

Your heart flutters at his invitation. “That sounds nice. I’m down.”

“It won’t be much, but we want to wind down before going to bed,” he explains. “We’re all going to go get showered and meet you on the bus in fifteen, sounds good?”

“Yeah, I might as well change into my pajamas while you guys are cleaning up,” you suggest.

Noah nods and you follow them out of the room to walk towards the back door of the venue. It’s dark out now and you can see some fans still trickling out of the venue as you walk to the bus.

Once inside, you run into Matt getting undressed to his underwear. You knew he never liked sleeping with clothes on, but the sight still made your thighs clench.

“Matt, can we talk?” You ask cautiously.

“Hey, sleepy,” Matt teases. “Could we in the morning? I’m drained,” he climbs into his bunk.

“Sure,” you yield. “Goodnight, Matt.”

“Night night,” he says, closing the curtain.

Tonight felt like such a bummer, but you wouldn't let it keep you down. In the small pile of clothes in your bunk, you choose a cute pair of pajamas to wear for the impromptu “celebration”. There are cute, sexy clothes even, that you brought just in case, but Noah didn't seem to care that you wanted to feel more comfortable this evening. You felt confident there would be at least one night on tour that you could whip out the mini skirt, but tonight isn't it.

Once dressed, you waited at the dining table at the front of the bus to scroll through your phone. Your leg bounced up and down as you considered opening Twitter to read the responses from fans for tonight’s show. Nonetheless, you thought it best to wait until the morning after talking with Matt.

“Who’s ready to drink?” Folio sings as the bus door is pulled open.

You laugh as he realizes only you and a sleeping Dierkes are aboard.

“They’re still showering?” He asks you, whining.

“I’m down to do a shot with you,” you suggest. “I need it after today.”

“I’m not a big fan of shots, but let’s do it,” he shrugs.

Folio walks over to the cabinet above the sink and grabs the bottle of Tito’s. The fridge below him is opened afterward and he pulls out a can of Sprite and a beer.

“So, how are we celebrating tonight?” You ask as he gets comfortable in the seat across from you.

“Literally just chatting and drinks,” he shrugs, smiling. “We’re pretty lame. None of us are really party guys, but I like to get down from time to time,” he pops open the bottle of Tito’s and pours shots into plastic cups for you and himself. He cracks open a can of Sprite, too. “You wanna share?”

“Sure,” you giggle. You take your cup in hand as you hear the latch of the door click open.

Jolly and Nick enter with their hair wrapped up in towels and Noah has his towel draped over his shoulder.

“Folio,” you say, raising your cup to his eye level, “Arriba.”

“Arriba?” he repeats, holding up his cup.

“Abajo,” you bring the cup to the table with a soft thud.

“Abajo,” he follows suit.

“Al centro,” you say, putting the cup in the middle of the table to encourage him to cheers you.

“Al centro,” he cheers you with a toothy smile.

“Pa' dentro!” You throw your cup back and gulp down the vodka with your eyes shut tight. Before Folio realizes, you grab the can of Sprite to chase down the bitter taste in your mouth.

“Pa' dentro!” He downs his shot and smacks the table with his fist. “Hey, give me that shit!” Folio sputters reaching for the can.

You throw your head back and laugh as Folio gulps down half the can of Sprite before you.

“You two having fun?” Jolly smiles while taking his hair down from the towel.

“So much fun,” Folio coughs. “You want one?” He raises the Tito’s bottle to Jolly.

“I’ll stick with the beer,” Jolly replies before heading toward the bus restroom.

“Same,” Nick adds and takes a seat across from Folio on the opposite wall of the bus on the long, black couch.

Noah, who’s now wearing Bad Omens joggers and an oversized white t-shirt, takes a seat next to Nick.

“Are those your pajamas, Noah? Those pants look so comfy,” you gush.

“Actually,” he laughs, “I usually just sleep in my underwear.” His cheeks turn the familiar shade of pink you witnessed just days before. “But for this tour, I thought I should cover up to show some respect to you as our guest,” he smiles.

“Oh! I don’t mind—,” you start, but you cut off when you see Folio and Nick’s lips turn up into shit-eating grins. “I mean,” you begin again, “Matt always sleeps naked when he sleeps over at my place, so I know, you know…” You wave your hands around the front of your shorts.

“She wants you to take your pants off, Noah,” Nick says, bluntly.

“Nick,” Noah and you groan before making eye contact, luckily you both can laugh it off.

Folio passes out beer to Nick, and to Jolly when he returns. You spend the next hour talking and laughing together while drinking, but Noah chooses to stay sober. You have about two and a half shots total— the other half of your shot being downed by Folio for you.

Through the hour, you couldn’t help but notice Noah talking with his hands and then brushing through his drying hair. His smile, which made you watch his lips when he talked, and his laugh, which sounded like a song. Every moment you spent around him, you grew more infatuated.

Nick checks the time, “I think it’s time for me to head to bed.”

“Yeah,” Jolly said, standing from his seat. “Folio, you coming?”

“Sure, I'll hit the hay,” he says. “Goodnight you two.” The three men follow each other to their bunks and head to sleep.

You twiddle your thumbs as you’re left alone with Noah at the front of the bus.

“You're not tired?” He asks you.

“I just took a two-hour-long nap,” you laugh, slightly embarrassed.

“Makes sense,” he shrugs.

“You?” You ask back.

“My adrenaline from the show makes it hard to sleep sometimes,” he responds. “I’ll go to sleep when you do.”

“Nice,” you reply and the conversation trails off again.

Noah clears his throat, “The show was great, by the way.”

You look up to meet his eyes, “It was?”

“Everything went off without a hitch. I don’t mean to do it, but I checked Twitter after my shower. Everyone gave us high praise. I just wish you could’ve seen it yourself,” he smiles.

“I didn’t even know you still had the app downloaded,” you say, surprised.

“I rarely do it,” Noah says. “I just thought you would want to know. I checked for you.”

“Thanks,” you smile and absentmindedly kick your legs. “It’s crazy being on this bus with you guys, by the way,” you admit. “I feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure it’s real.”

“Trust me, it’s real,” he laughs. “You deserve to be here. Matt, me and you, we made this thing happen,” he opens his arms to the air.

“I hope it’s not weird for you that I’m a fan,” you say cautiously.

“No, I think it makes things interesting,” he smirks.

You nearly choke and your face burns at his remark. “You know what? I think I’m ready for bed,” you sell it with a fake yawn and stand from the couch.

“Of course,” he gets up and suddenly you're standing right in front of him. Noah stands nearly a foot taller than you and he looks down at you with darkness in his eyes.

You give him a sheepish smile and turn to walk to the bunks.

You feel Noah’s warmth as he follows closely behind. His eyes feel like lasers on your legs as you climb up to your bunk.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Noah says softly.

“Goodnight, Noah,” you give him one final smile before quickly closing your bunk’s curtain.

How the fuck were you supposed to last a month around him? You think, shutting your eyes.

—

The next morning, Folio and you eat cereal across one another at the dining table. You had a restful night's sleep as the bus stayed stagnant to play a second show at the same venue from the night before.

“Mornin’, Folio,” you hear Matt’s voice come up from the bunk section of the bus. He walks up to you ready for the day in a new set of clothes and his charming Bad Omens baseball cap, as usual. “Y/N, can we talk?” he asks, cautiously, just like you asked last night.

You swallow your pride in wanting to respond like a brat and just nod.

Matt has you follow him outside to the side of the bus. “Will you go on a walk with me?”

You nod again and walk beside him around the perimeter of the venue.

“So, for starters, Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says.

“Matt,” you try to interrupt.

“Genuinely, you don’t deserve to be treated like I did to you yesterday,” he continues with a hand on his chest. “I was an asshole and I left you hanging on your first day on the job,” he admits.

“Thank you for saying sorry,” you say quietly.

“I think I had a bit of nerves for the first show but, that doesn't matter,” he admits. “If it's any consolation, I meant what I said. ‘I know you've got this on your own.’ I believe in you and you did it like I knew you would. You helped put on a banger of a show last night,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You laugh softly, amused by his rare moment of openness. “You’re such a sweetie,” you teasingly pull at his shirt.

“Blegh, yeah, yeah,” he shoves your hand away. “So, today, I was thinking I could help you throughout all your tasks today. I’ll be by your side the entire time. I’ll even go with you to pick up dinner,” he assures. “Then later tonight, for Bad Omens’ set, come and hang out with me in the sound deck?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks flush. “Thank you, I would love that,” you smile.

“Great,” he breathes out and his shoulders relax. “Let’s get today started.”

–

Matt stuck to his promise and this evening felt so much more nice. He took a Lyft with you to pick up Mexican food and just followed you around to all the different tasks you needed to get done before Bad Omen’s set. You felt like a badass stomping around the venue with him by your side. Both of you with walkie-talkies on your hips and facilitating the crew.

When he wasn't looking, you’d smile up at him and imagine a life where you two were doing this together, always. You daydreamed about being another power couple in the metalcore music industry.

Fifteen minutes before Bad Omens’ set, you stepped into the fenced-off section of the sound deck. You watch as he finalizes his setup as you sit in the fold-out chair he set up just for you.

“Now, we wait,” he says, sitting next to you.

“Matt, would it be unprofessional if I just screamed all the words to their songs?” You ask him, holding in your excitement.

“As your friend, I will silently judge you,” he laughs. “As your boss… just don't scream in my ear, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod vigorously.

The two of you chat until Matt gives the signal for you to stand. You fight the urge to bounce on your toes during the intro to Artificial Suicide, but it happens anyway.

Once the song starts, the crowd fades away, leaving just you and the music.

You jump, sing, and dance throughout the show while also sneaking glances over at Matt working. If there was one other person to run through the setlist as much as Noah and Matt, it was you. Matt times the pyrotechnic and CO2 cannon cues perfectly; the same cues you noted for him during rehearsals. The confetti cannons went off on time and you watched as other fans grabbed at the air for a souvenir. Lastly, the lighting and video looked spectacular; you held your hands to your chest in awe at some moments, and at other times you could feel tears well up in your eyes.

Then, there was Noah. His performance is unmatched. Goosebumps raised on your arms and neck when he screamed, gave clean vocals, and pretty much everything else he did. You couldn’t help but blush watching him flex his biceps with a mic in his hand once he was down to his tank top.

As you reach the end of their last song, Dethrone, Matt turns to try to say something to you.

“I can't hear you,” you yell over the music.

He tries to repeat himself, but gives up and steps into your space. With his chest right up against your shoulder, he leans in close to your ear, and says, “Look how fucking good you did. I’m so proud of you.”

“What?” You say, not that you couldn’t hear him, rather he shocked you dumb. A lightning bolt formed in your stomach and shot straight in between your thighs.

Matt brushes your hair and tucks it behind your ear, “I’m so glad you're here as my assistant. You’re doing so well for me.”

—

Later that night, you lie awake, tossing and turning in bed thinking about Matt’s words.

“Look how fucking good you did.”

“You’re doing so well for me.”

Even though Matt made it his life’s purpose to make you squirm with his constant flirtations, you doubted him to know that these words would affect you in this way.

Fuck Matt. Fuck him for praising me after he was a jerk for a day. Fuck him for making me squirm under his touch. Fuck his no masturbation bus rule, you think.

I want to fuck him.

Frustrated, you pull your sleep shorts to your ankles, careful not to mess with the curtain separating you from Noah’s bunk.

With one hand, your fingers rub your clit in circles over your panties, while your other hand squeezes your breast.

You softly close your eyes, and touch yourself to your imagination:

“My good little assistant,” Matt cooes. “When are you going to let me use your toys on you? I know they’re in your bag.”

Your fingers clasp your nipples roughly while you adjust your other hand to move your panties to the side. You gather your arousal and trace rings around your pussy in relief.

“Matt,” a familiar voice overtakes your imagination. “You meant us, right?” Noah comes into view.

“Noah,” you silently moan. Why’d he have to make things so complicated? You think.

“Complicated?” He scoffs. “I’m just here to make things interesting,” Noah says darkly, taking the palm vibrator from Matt and buzzing it on. He brings it to your clit as Matt presses the head of your dildo into your needy hole.

On accident, you let out a squeak, and your hand shoots from your breast to your mouth to cover it. Scared of them hearing you, you resistantly remove your fingers from yourself and pull your shorts back on.

You roll your eyes, frustrated still, and flip onto your side to try to sleep, hoping the Sandman will at least grant you a wet dream tonight.

#matt dierkes x reader #matt content #matt dierkes #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 11 months ago

Note

can you write about dave mustaine watching the fem!reader touching herself through a small space in the bedroom door, and then decides to take the reader by surprise and helps her with his big hands?

A/n: I love size differences, maybe because I'm short but just the thought of it even in a domestic sense like cuddling and stuff, I love it. Dave is half a foot taller than me so I very much enjoyed writing this lol

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, squirting, if you think I missed something please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

You had been living with your parents for your whole life, bouncing between jobs but nothing ever seemed to stick. Thankfully, your parents were happy to have you around and understood the situation.

Everyday you would check the newspaper for job openings, you’d walk around town and hand in your resume.

One fateful day you were walking around. You were getting down on yourself pretty hard, all your friends had jobs, some had families. You were trying harder than anyone and it seemed to be getting you nowhere. Of course it just had to start raining.

Without an umbrella your only hope was to find a newspaper stand. There was one nearby and you got a random newspaper to hold over your head as you made your way back home. It wasn’t that far so the paper didn’t get soaked all the way through, you thanked your lucky stars.

You got your shoes off and headed into the kitchen. You fell onto a chair at the dining table and dropped the newspaper onto the table before planting your head beside it, completely drained.

Your mom came over and sat beside you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner. She looked over the newspaper and saw a job citing. “What about this one?” She asked, pointing to the small column asking for a tour manager, someone to help get this band you’ve never heard of what they wanted when they wanted it or something. They were paying a fair price and the criteria seemed easy enough so you gave it a shot and called the number. I man answered, walked you through the interview and like that you were hired.

You’ve now been working with Megadeth, an up and coming thrash metal band, for a few weeks now. You’ve been on tour for a week or two, everything has been going great and you were happy to be with this job. The band was nice, anytime anyone ever gave you any trouble they were right there with you, a group of menacing fellows who weren’t afraid to throw more than a few hits.

You were in your room the night before an early flight. The lead singer of the band had a suit and offered you the spare room because he didn’t want you having to pay for a whole room when he had a perfectly fine empty one, his words. That ‘spare’ room you took was supposed to be the bassists room, for whatever reason he decided to give Dave the whole room.

Whatever the reason you didn’t care all too much, you were more than happy to not have to pay for your own room.

You felt that this was finally working out for you, after all your struggle and hard work you’d finally made something, a good something. While lying in bed you figured you deserved a treat, a reward for doing so good.

You slid your hand under your waistband and into your panties, a nice lacey thing you got for yourself as another treat. Feel good, look good, right?

Your fingers circled your clit and teased your hole. Your body was so hot from the excitement you’d been keeping from it for so long that now every touch just drove you crazy.

Dave’s room was right beside yours, he couldn’t quite hear what you were doing but the walls were thin enough that he could hear you rustling around. There had been times during the tour that you guys had to take a flight, fairy or bus ride through the night and Dave had caught you up at unreasonable hours more than once so he figured it was just that, you couldn’t sleep and were tossing and turning to find a comfortable position that didn’t seem to exist.

He got out of bed and made his way to your room. The door was opened a crack and he could see you moving around on your bed. The way your fingers sunk into your hole, the way your back arched and your legs stretched out. He saw all of that, the way you pleased yourself.

He never planned on admitting it to you, he swears, but he didn’t hire you because of the interview. He hired you because of your voice, he didn’t think a more beautiful voice could exist and he knew your looks would match.

Before the tour started he found himself thinking of you late at night, he’d end up in the same predicament that you were in right now. His underwear bunched around his ankles, legs spread apart as he pumped his hand up and down his shaft.

He was given an opportunity right now as he watched you. He was already hardening in his pants at the idea of helping you get off. Your hands just weren’t cutting it, his hands were bigger, calloused from playing the guitar for years.

He opened the door and let himself in. You immediately went to cover yourself, tugging the blanket over your exposed body as fast as you could but it was far too late.

Dave paid no mind to it and just walked over to the bed as you tried to straighten yourself out. “Davie, I-It’s not what you think, I was just-”

“Shh, just let me help you.” Dave said with a soft smile. He sat beside you on the bed, putting an arm around your shoulder and pulling you to him. He slowly peeled the blanket off of you, revealing your naked body all for him.

Dave moved behind you, letting you lean back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. His one hand went to your chest, groping your chest and pinching your nipples while the other went to your cunt.

He toyed with your swollen clit a bit before pushing a finger in you. Your back arched against him and he loved it. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling inside you and pushing against your gummy walls, searching for that perfect spot that made you see stars. When he found it he made sure to hit it over and over again.

Your mouth fell open in a waterfall of moans. His finger stretched you out more than your own did, the callouses felt so much better as they prodded your sensitive flesh. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Dave whispered in your ear. “Just couldn’t get yourself off, could you? Needed help, didn’t you?” You nodded, bucking your hips into his hand.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes, please!” You cried, gripping his arm tightly. Dave chuckled at you and stuck another finger into your hole, making your eyes shoot open and roll to the back of your head. Your body shook as it was taken over by climax, one you hadn’t seen coming until it coated your body.

It took you several moments to figure out why Dave was smiling so proudly down at the sheets. It wasn’t until you gained back your composure enough to look and see that you’d squirted all over the hotel mattress, soaking the sheets and comforter. Your eyes widened at the mess but Dave just chuckled. “What a pretty girl.”

#dave mustaine #dave mustaine smut #megadeth #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth smut #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine fanfiction #megadeth imagines #megadeth x reader

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