#famous rap line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unstable-samurai · 4 months

Text

Breathing This Calm Night - smut

Yunjin x Male Reader

ONE-SHOT

Tags: fluff, oral sex, one-shot, tightjob, penetration, k-idol, famous girl, secret relationship

A/n: This is my first request. Thanks @dav1233555 for the plot suggestion 🫡

The two of you were anxiously dragging yourself towards the end of the day. Slowly the hours passed, seeming to last longer than they should, while a hurried and hard routine was followed, with no time to even exchange a few messages.

But you were finally free, at least for now, from the mess that is a magazine of international relevance.

I'm arriving

You read the message and smiled at the phone screen. It wasn't crowded at the restaurant you chose to have dinner at. You reflected for a moment, and thought there was a bit of madness in what you two were doing, but it was indisputable that it was genuine and pure.

Truth be told, this whole thing was real. And thinking that this could be a bit crazy (in other people's eyes, to be more precise) only made your panoramic view of society more bitter.

After all, what was so great about being a foreigner and dating a K-idol? Well, you weren't the guy who was going to change the view of an entire society, so worrying about it was useless.

At least there was some security that this relationship would not be leaked to the media. Well, you were in fact part of the fucking media. There was support from the magazine you worked for (not that you were the owner or anything), and at least no one on your team would poke your eye out. Some other editors you trust already knew about your relationship. It was one of the countless advantages of being in a high position in the company and having a strong influence on what happened inside. I mean, someone from the magazine could try to fuck with you, snakes exist everywhere, doing this in an attempt to self-promote or even abandon ship, handing over the leak of your relationship to another magazine or tabloid (in the headline the motherfuckers would find a way to use the word "affair", just because your previous relationship ended a month before you met Yunjin). But you would discover the funny guy so easily that there wouldn't even be any fun in solving the mystery. All it took was a single call to your father, simply the greatest editor-in-chief who worked at the magazine's headquarters. Already retired, but still exercising great decision-making power thanks to his long years of contributions to the magazine. Your old man was seen almost as a royal advisor or a wise monk where directors, managers and editors from various sectors of the magazine went to ask for advice and help. You were relatively shielded from leaks.

You noticed her approaching. Well disguised, with glasses, hair tied back and comfortable clothes. She looked like just another ordinary girl. You couldn't help but notice the NY Knicks sweatshirt you had given her as a gift, it was both of your favorite team.

She greeted you with a discreet hug. You still hadn't gotten used to the fact that you couldn't give a peck in public que in South Korea. In your perception, it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hi, baby! How are you?" she asked you as she sat down at the table.

"Better now, honey. What about you?"

"The same!"

"Was the day as hard as always?" you asked.

"Yeah, definitely!" she replied. Yunjin seemed eager for this question. She continued: “In the morning I had rap class. By the way, I think I'm getting better. Oh, and in the afternoon I recorded my lines, like, over and over again. The music producer has a very specific vision of what he wants for this track. He apologized and admitted that it might take some time to achieve the desired result.”

"Well, I trust your talent. Remember that you and your group are dealing with a delicate concept. I have seen up close the production of albums that address intimate themes, it is always a challenge, but also a true work and certainly a amazing gift for the fans. You girls are going to do great."

Yunjin laughed, a little shyly.

"It feels like I'm talking to a music critic instead of my boyfriend."

"Well, you're actually talking to a music critic. Oh, by the way, I remembered that I won't be writing the article about Le Sserafim's new album like I said before."

Her expression was one of surprise. Yunjin asked:

"Is it because of me?”

"Yes." you answered honestly. “Well, look, love, I'm prioritizing our relationship and thinking about the future. If this is for real, eventually the press will hear about us together, and a review from me about my girlfriend's music group obviously it would make my opinion seem partial and biased. It's just to avoid future problems."

"Okay" She looked upset. "But I'll still want to know your opinion when you hear the album."

"I'm really looking forward to hearing it." You smiled, making her feel better. "I left the review about the new album for a good friend of mine to write. I really respect her opinion."

"Well, i think we're in good hands. But let's stop talking about work for a bit!"

The waiter seemed to have heard Yunjin's speech as he appeared to save them right after she finished saying that. Yunjin had great taste in food, that's why she always chose the order for the two of you, you weren't the "culinary trailblazer" type; a few months in South Korea and you only knew five typical dishes (always returning to the arms of the big fast-food chains).

"Oh, I almost forgot to give you this!" You handed her a gift. "It had been on my lap for so long that I had forgotten I had brought it with me."

"Oh, baby! You didn't have to do that!"

She started to unwrap it.

"Hope you like."

You waited for her reaction. Yunjin smiled and made a cute little noise when she saw that it was a book (although she already knew from the shape of the gift wrap).

"You know I love reading! Thank you so much."

"It's The Alchemist. I know you love fantasy and this silly self-help thing. This book is a mix of both."

You saw her eyes light up.

"You're perfect. I love how well you know me. And self-help isn't silly, it's very good for evolving as a human being." she scolded you.

You shrugged.

"It's not the kind of thing I'd like to put on my bookshelf. But to each their own.”

She laughed.

"I'm still going to make you read one of these."

"Well, I've already read The Alchemist. If for me it's average, for you it will be a masterpiece."

★

It was around 10pm when the two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Dinner was very good, especially dessert (that bingsu thing was really delicious), and by that night there was no more energy for more fun, it was preferable to have a good night's sleep so that the next day you could do something together. Even so, Yunjin hummed excitedly in the car on the way home. You appreciated all that joy.

You took off your shoes while Yunjin took off her NY Knicks sweatshirt, leaving only a tight tank top on her body. You noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra by the way her breasts showed through the fabric of her tank top. You slowly approached her and grabbed her from behind, kissing her repeatedly. Yunjin wrapped her hands around your neck as she giggled at the series of kisses.

“Will you be my teddy bear tonight?” she asked sweetly. “I need your affection so much, baby.”

“Whatever you need, sweetie.” You said as you kissed her on the neck.

Things were heating up. Your hands slid down Yunjin's soft belly, heavy sighs escaped her mouth unconsciously.

“Look, we still need to shower.” she said.

"No problem." you answered.

“You're putting me in the mood. I'm warning you that if you keep touching me like this, you're going to have to go all the way to finish what you started.”

“And since when has this been a problem for me?” you asked as you led her to the couch.

You took off your shirt and belt from your pants. Yunjin took off her jeans, leaving only her tank top and adorable pink panties. Your hand slid down Yunjin's left thigh while you kissed her right thigh. That was more than enough to give her goosebumps. She had her legs wide open, waiting, almost begging, for you to touch that place. Instead of doing it right away, you decided to play with her a little, kissing and biting her inner thigh while using one of your hands to lightly massage her pussy through her panties. Your lips slid to Yunjin's crotch, where you licked the entire area, she reveled in the act, trying hard not to close her legs with the spasms she was having. It didn't take long for a wet stain to darken the pink of the panties. When you finally removed Yunjin's panties, you saw how wet she was. So horny that she couldn't wait for you, fingering her pussy slowly, opening it with her fingers so you could see how drooling she was; a successful action of provoking you. Then you realized how hard your cock was, pulsing in your pants, painfully tight, which made you hornier.

Without wasting any more time, you dived between Yunjin's legs, eager to taste her (that flavor that was becoming increasingly familiar and addictive… Part of your life. Yeah, we could put it that way), your tongue delighting in the taste and the cozy warmth of the inside of her pussy, while Yunjin moaned softly, digging her nails into the sofa cushions.

“I love it when you suck me like that, baby. You make me feel so good!” she moaned.

At one point she asked to stop because her lust was unbearable and that way he would have an orgasm in a short time.

“I want to feel your cock inside me now.” she said. You had just taken off your underwear when she added, “Wait, what if we fuck in the bathroom. Let’s save time, what do you think?”

Your response was to lift her off the couch and take her to the bathroom. You turned on the light with your elbow and, before you could think of anything, she said:

“Fuck me like this! Your cock goes deep into my pussy when you fuck me in the air.”

You kissed her intensely while you tried to fit your dick into her pussy. The feeling of your cock sliding inside Yunjin was wonderful. Upon realizing that your cock was well placed inside her, you grabbed Yunjin's thighs tightly and began to thrust into her energetically while she held onto you, moaning compulsively.

And Yunjin was right, your dick went deep in that position. You could feel her deep inside, the entire length of your cock was being used, and she loved it. When she announced her orgasm, you wanted to make sure it was intense and pleasurable, the way it made her roll her eyes, so you lifted her a little higher, grabbing her ass, while Yunjin wrapped her legs inside your arms, making her practically hang from you and her pussy is completely inside your dick.

“Oh God, Baby! I’m cumming!”

She trembled holding onto you, while you practically rubbed her pussy on your dick, always rotating it close to your body. It was just a shame that you couldn't enjoy her eyes rolling back at the moment of orgasm, you simply loved seeing her go crazy with pleasure, but there was also a certain contentment in just knowing that it happened.

You sat Yunjin down on the sink and there you started fucking her again, looking deeply into her eyes. At one point she looked at you with so much passion, so much desire that there was a sudden growing desire to fill her pussy with your load of cum.

“Hang me, love.” she asked affectionately.

Her hand wrapped around just over half of her neck, serving as support to fuck her even harder. Sweat running down both bodies, your gaze was lost between the mirror's reflection, her eyes, her tits and her expressions of pleasure. With the sensations highlighted, you realized how much you loved Yunjin and how much this feeling contributed to eminent pleasure during sex.

Holy shit! You were almost there.

You thought about how much you wanted to go deep into this, literally to the end, but you were without a condom and suddenly stopping the act to go get a condom at the end of the championship was a bit... discouraging.

But you have an idea.

“Stand up, sweetie” you said. “Let’s try something new.”

Yunjin got out of the sink, looking at you excitedly.

“Get in the shower stall with me.” you asked, opening the door.

"What do you want to do?"

“It’s nothing out of this world, but it occurred to me that you’ve never given me a tightjob, I think it’s time we tried it.”

She had some assumptions about what this position was, but you helped her anyway. Yunjin was a rather tall girl, so there were no problems for your dick to fit between her thighs, the result was perfect, nothing uncomfortable. You thought about turning on the shower to lube up a little, but her pussy was so wet and the continuous sweat running down between her thighs was already more than great. You grabbed Yunjin's waist tightly and she crossed her legs a little, squeezing your dick.

You began to thrust into her, your cock sliding back and forth as you dragged Yunjin's labia. So you discovered in the best way that this was very pleasurable for both of you. The internal heat started inside you again and gradually you lost yourself in that exciting sensation. As you approached the final explosion, you bestially grabbed Yunjin in every way possible, sliding your sweat-damp hands down her belly, squeezing her breasts and slapping her ass. You lost yourself in the voluptuousness that was Yunjin's body and- Fuck! She loved it. She loved being your instrument of pleasure, knowing that the person she loved so much reached maddening peaks of passion, desire and lust for her. A juice of feelings for an insatiable thirst.

“Oh baby! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-”

Without any warning, Yunjin began to move her hips in a rhythm that immediately took you to the precipice of pleasure. The soft, hot, wet, suffocating skin of her thighs dancing over your cock. This was too much for you. When you came, you hugged Yunjin tightly, holding her as if your life depended on it, giving in to inconstant and uncontrollable moans close to her ear. The frantic thrusts lost their rhythm, going deeper and slower through Yunjin's thighs. She held your arms affectionately, waiting for your breathing to become less labored before kissing you.

"I love you." You said to her.

The phrase was so loaded with something that covered your feelings at that moment, and you wished she was the woman of your life and would never leave your side.

"I love you too!" said Yunjin when she found a way out of your tongue. “Baby, you don’t know how much.”

“This took longer than expected. Let’s take our shower.”

“Yep! Let's go."

You turned on the shower. The hot running water was invigorating, even more so being next to Yunjin, you didn't know that sharing certain intimacies was so special until you finally did it with her. you soaped Yunjin's entire body, she helped you wash your back and you shampooed her hair, gently massaging her scalp; it was cute how it relaxed her, she seemed so surrendered to you in that moment, and just a few months ago you were sitting across from her and the other Le Sserafim girls, asking incisive questions about the creative process of their latest album. That's where it all started, after all. And who could say where it would end?

“Hey, baby, let me shampoo your hair now.” Yunjin said with a cutie smile.

Nobody, you thought. Nobody could say.

A/n: sorry for any grammatical errors 😅

706 notes · View notes

calumfmu · 6 months

Text

sugar coated melting.

Being assistant to the famous Steve Harrington wasn't an easy task, he was demanding as ever and made sure he was nice to everyone but you. But a job was a job, and it was the cost of working in Hollywood.

Famous!Steve Harrington x Assistant!reader (modern!au, with 40's Steve) 7.5k+ words

cw: older Steve Harrington, smut, loss of virginity, inexperienced!reader, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), mentions of death, swearing, 18+, mdni

Working with one of the most famous actors in the world was draining, exhausting, taxing, everything you could negatively describe. He was such a high maintenance person, he made your job seem like a constant boot camp run for the Navy Seals. Your best friend had cackled at that supply of information.

Steve wasn’t a bad person, no. He was handsome (obviously, he had been voted most handsome of the previous 2 years in a row), kind (to most people—who weren’t you), and compassionate (he let you eat his leftovers that one time you had gotten stuck on set for 16 straight hours). You were getting paid to say nice things about him if anyone had asked.

Life working as his head assistant was just a drag. It was everything you had dreamed of doing when you were a kid, working in Hollywood with big A-listers, attending red carpets, seeing the way movies worked. The job wasn’t the problem, it… was him.

A script was shoved into your hands as you thought of giving it to the man. The look on his face was burned into the back of your mind, irritation crossing his features as you imagined giving him the bad news. He always took things out on you, attitude forward as he said some slick remark.

Last minute script change, typical of productions like these. Something that anyone could expect while working on these things. Anyone with a normal level of patience would handle it well, take it with stride.

Your fingers rapped against the trailer door, aluminum warm to the touch from the sun beating down on it. Movement sounded behind the door, mumbling a few words out at you.

The door swung open, Steve rubbing at his eyes with his hair sticking in every direction. Fuck, he was asleep. It made it so much worse delivering the news.

“Heyyy, boss,” you beamed, voice raising a few octaves. You held out the script to him, cringing slightly. “Nothing too crazy, just a sliight chan-”

“No,” the door slammed in your face, your eyes closing as the bright reflection shone on you. Your smile immediately dropped, the reflection of your face on the white aluminum door looking back at you.

Red seethed through you, frustration prickling at the back of your neck. You knocked again, this day becoming even longer with each passing second.

“Mr. Harrington.” You were met with silence, ear pressing to the door to hear any movement. You waited a beat, knocking more urgently.

“Don’t want it, tell them no,” he grumbled behind the door, his voice sounded across the trailer, muffled through the closed door.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to not go off on him. You were his assistant, not his agent, not the director of the film, not anything else. What did he realistically think you were going to do about a script change?

“‘M just delivering it, Mr. Harrington.” Your voice was level. “I don’t even think it’s your lines that changed.”

A faint note of music came through the door, Steve deciding to tune you out. Looking towards the sky, you squinted, finding prayer between the clouds.

“Mr. Harrington!”

Another PA walked by you, speaking into the earpiece she had with a clipboard in hand. You raised a hand to greet her, faux smile crossing your lips as you pretended everything was okay. She waved back, making her way in between the trailers and out of your eyesight.

As soon as she disappeared, your fist came up to bang at the door, louder than before.

It opened in the middle of your fit, you nearly stumbled into the trailer. You cut your eyes at your boss, biting your tongue at the swear words that threatened to come out.

The man was well past 30 years old, but still acted like a spoiled brat.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth, grabbing the stack of papers from your hand. He barely glanced at it before tossing it on the small couch behind him. Your eyes followed it, noticing the mess of bottles on the floor around it.

He followed your gaze with his own eyes, stepping into your eyesight as he closed the door slightly.

“Anything else, Yn?” A pinch of attitude at your name. Typical.

You smiled at the man, frustration disappearing as you were just grateful this episode of his didn’t last as long as it did last week.

“No, sir, that would be it for me,” you gave him a slightly bow, clasping your hands in front of you before swiveling on your heel. Descending the mini set of stairs, you rolled your eyes, back to him as you descended. “Fucking twat.”

“I heard that!” His voice was far behind you, your feet moving fast across the blacktops. You smiled back at him, waving as confusion crossed your features.

“Sorry sir, I said it was fucking hot!” You lied straight through your teeth. “Outside, you know? Pardon my language.”

You rolled your eyes once more, turning back on your mission to get back inside the building. You and him both knew what you said, but you didn’t have it in you to care. Nothing you did would get you fired, trust, have you tried.

It was like you were in your own personal Purgatory. You assumed Steve liked you, he wouldn’t fire you even on your worst days. You had fucked up many times, forgetting things, slipping up on his to do list, calling the wrong people for the wrong events. More recently, he had heard the rude nicknames you had for him, and he just didn’t seem to care.

You had heard him one time, whisper under his breath about “best help in Hollywood”. It was sarcastic of course, his eye roll you’ve been well acquainted with to follow.

The last few weeks have been more of a hell for you, Steve becoming more temperamental and moody, you becoming the worst employee on planet Earth. You begged to be fired at this point, your shot at unemployment looking more and more appetizing.

A sudden ring cut through the air, your back pocket buzzing. Pulling it out, you nearly ripped your hair out, Steve’s contact popping up on the screen. I could ignore it, you thought. This could finally be my chance at escaping him.

Your thoughts were cut short, the phone ringing again as Steve's name popped up. He didn't even let the first one finish before trying you again.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington," you breathed, hand pressed into your brow as you answered. "Hi, sorry, sir. Did you need me?"

"Need you to come back," you heard him say, voice muffled as he seemed to be doing other things on the other side of the line. Your feet responded before your brain did, autopilot in motion. "Script's not fucking working, and I just-"

Something fell in the background, and your footsteps faltered. You ignored it, rolling your eyes yet again at his antics.

"Are you okay, sir?" You asked, seeing his trailer in the distance. One of the trailer windows had its blinds half up, he paced back and forth.

You approached it, listening to him as he rambled on the phone, speaking about how much he hated this director and his damn agent for giving him these roles. Fighting back laughter, you cosigned with him, not choosing to mention that this stupid role was worth $13 million.

You raised your fist to knock at the door, it swinging open before you could even make a noise. The three dial tones of the phone call ending rung in your ears, Steve grumbling at you to enter.

"A-are you sure, sir?" Hesitation filled you, you weren't used to stepping into his trailer. You think you'd been in it once during the last seven months of production, grabbing his left behind cell phone before they traveled to location.

Steve didn't look at you the whole time, just muttering words under his breath as he held the brand new scripts in his hand. He was pacing, feet burning holes in the carpet of the trailer.

You slowly stepped in, apprehensively closing the door behind you. Hands clasped in front of you, you stood in close proximity to the door, eyes shifting over the large trailer.

He had clothes thrown over one end of the vehicle, previous scripts sitting on the makeshift table, and a half full glass of a dark colored liquid next to it. You eyed it, brow furrowing as you swore this man had been sober for the past few years--or at least, that's what the news outlets said about him. Not like you kept up.

"Sir," you interjected his thoughts, causing him to stop in place. He still didn't look at you. "Why am I here?"

Curt answers were the easiest way for you to pretend to be nice to him. You knew you couldn't be outright rude, this was your boss after all. Saying stuff under your breath and if he accidentally heard was another thing.

He ignored you.

"How is this supposed to be the Oscar nomination when they have me acting like this?" He exhaled a small shout at the end of his words, your eyes squinting at the volume. "Does this make sense to you? It's like they want me to make a fool of myself, no?"

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure how you want me to answer that, sir."

He waited a moment, sighing loudly as he collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. You looked at him then, seeing the way his chest heaved as he shook his eyes. The sun was setting now, golden hour lighting inching through the windows over his figure. His bed head was still wild, even more messy than it was previously.

"W-what would you like me to do, sir?" You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you felt the awkwardness creep into the air. This was the longest you had been in a room with him, at least, with no one around.

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you took note of your 'shift' being almost over. It was a quarter to seven, your freedom lingering in the distance.

"Sir?"

"Enough!" He cut out, breaking his silence. You jumped at the words, ducking your head as his outburst came. This was the Steve you knew, the short tempered boss who was always so moody whenever things didn't go his way.

You opted for silence, not daring to speak as you awaited his next choice of words.

His arm left his face, palm running down his features as he stared into the ceiling of the trailer.

"Sorry, I just," his voice was significantly lower. He sat up on the edge of the couch, his palms resting on his thighs. "I just need you to take me home."

Your eyes closed briefly, irritation quickly crossing you as you realized this was going to be a longer day than you imagined. If Steve had needed you longer than you were scheduled, then so be it.

"Why?" The word wasn't supposed to come out, replacing the 'okay' that sat on the edge of your mouth.

His gaze cut to you quickly, searching your face as you stood there. Eyes burning slightly, you felt tears prickling. The pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Friends rerun marathon looking further away from you could bring you to tears.

"Because I employ you, do I not?" The harshness in his words did nothing but fuel the 'Hollywood Tell All' feature you planned for the day you quit.

"You do, sir, yes," You muttered, hands dropping to your side in defeat. "I just thought you'd drive yourself like normal. You know, day ends, and I'll see you here the next day, eight sharp like normal."

"I can't--no," he answered, standing up as he gathered his things. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You just need to take me home. You can drive my car."

The words to protest him were lost in your throat. You complied with his actions, eyes to the floor as he finished gathering his things. Following him out of the trailer, you sighed, feeling like you were walking into a lion's den.

The walk to the private lot was silent, Steve grumbling to himself as he texted someone on his phone. You noticed his phone ringing several times, his thumb finding the red button to end it each time. Curse words came out of his mouth every few seconds, a few from your own mouth being added to the mix as you thought of ways to leave.

As the two of you came across an old school beemer sitting deep in the parking lot, he threw the keys at you, settling into the passenger seat. Reluctantly, you slide in the driver's seat, feeling the leather interior beneath your fingers.

"Nice car, boss," You whispered, checking out how the car didn't even look a day out of 1985. Steve side eyed you, nodding at the compliment before returning to his phone.

"Get us there in one piece, yeah?"

You sucked your teeth as his comment, shaking your head before starting the car. It was like it was impossible for him to be a decent person. Here you were, doing something for this man which may or may not be in your contract, and he couldn't even say thank you to a compliment about his car.

The ride was silent save for an old tape that played in the car. Some band from the 80's you noted, a little too old for your taste. Steve's fingers tapped away at his phone, not focused on the LA traffic you sat in for most of the drive. He gave you directions to his swanky high rise, ignored you as you struggled to keep up with him.

You pulled into an underground garage, valet men coming immediately, opening the door for you as they took the keys. Everything happened in such fast motion, you barely noticed he was half way to the elevator. Jogging to catch up with him, you turned your own attention to your phone, thumb hovering over the Uber app.

Steve took a call, fingers rapidly pressing the elevator button as he spoke (yelled) at the person on the other end.

"No, Robin, I'm not doing that, okay?" He said, voice gruff as he glanced at you. You heard the static voice of the person on the other line, seeming to be yelling at him too.

The elevator dinged, the two of your bodies stepping in as the doors opened. The transportation app on your phone lagged, loading bar stagnant on your screen.

"No, I get it, it's been years. Fine, I-" Steve groaned in frustration, eyes repeatedly shifting over to you as you tried to tune out the phone call. You stared at the numbers the elevator passed, the first floor blinking by before you could say anything. Your phone remain in your hand, screen dimming as it began to time out.

"Robin. I know."

The voice on the other line picked up, the woman's voice growing even louder. Steve pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, grimacing at the volume. The elevator stopped at a floor labeled 'P', doors opening to a mini lobby that ended in double doors. He went over to unlock them, key fob in his hands as a beep sounded through the empty room.

As he stepped through them, phone balanced on his shoulder with his ear pressed to it, he looked at you. You stood right outside the elevator, doors closing behind you as you didn't know what to do.

He held open his front door, hand waving at you in frustration. "Well, are you coming in?"

You pressed your lips together, another wave of irritation pulling at your teeth. Eyes half rolling, you nodded, entering the doors as he closed and locked it behind you.

Steve moved fast, throwing his jacket over a couch that lay in the middle of the giant room, toeing off his shoes by its side. You stood in place, not sure what to do as your boss made his way around his home.

You took note of the place, not picturing that he would live in a place like this. It was modern, with a touch of old school fashion. Retro furniture, expensive nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. However, not a touch of life, no personal pictures, no sign of family, or anything personal that may shine light on what type of person he truly was.

You stepped in further to the place, watching as Steve made his way to a cabinet in his kitchen. Observing him over the breakfast bar, you saw into the open kitchen, watched him as he grabbed a rocks glass and a bottle of something pushed far back into a cabinet.

He continued on the phone, placing it on speaker as he began to open the bottle. He struggled at first, face turning up as his hands twisted on the cap.

Slowly making your way around the room, you glanced around, expecting him to yell at you for even being here, despite inviting you in.

"Steve," you heard the voice on the other line say. His eyes drifted towards the phone, pouring a hefty shot. "All I'm saying is, I miss you. And care for you. I love you. I want you to be okay today, alright?"

Steve grunted in response, not noticing your proximity to him. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to gain his attention.

The woman on the phone waited for more of a response. Once it was clear she wasn't going to get one, she sighed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."

"Yeah sure," his tone was rude, eyes boring into the glass of dark liquid that sat in front of him. His fingers danced at the rim.

"Eddie would've wanted you to come."

Steve's body language immediately stiffened, finger moving to hang up the phone before throwing back the shot of liquor. His face grimaced at the taste, slamming the glass back on the table.

You didn't know what to say, looking anywhere but at your boss.

"Fuck, I forgot you were even here," he suddenly said, hand running through his hair. His hand was on his hip, eyes glossy as he looked at you. You chewed at your bottom lip, nodding as he stared at you. He pointed to the alcohol, shrugging. "Drink?"

Declining, your head shook. "I don't drink, sir."

"Ahh," he said, grabbing the glass and bottle as he headed towards the couch. "Good girl."

He threw himself down on the furniture, exhaling loudly as he stretched out. His eyes were closed as you stood across the room.

"Hey, I-I think I'm gonna go," you said, beginning to walk towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As you crossed the room, Steve's voice called out to you. Your movements stopped, turning on your heel to look at him.

"Stay?" He asked you, eyes huge as they looked in your direction. You took note of his features, blinking at him as he awaited your response. Your boss was approaching his 40's, however, in this moment, he looked just like a little kid. Pictures of him in his teen years you had seen on the Internet were pushed to the forefront of your mind.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington," you muttered, wanting to leave the scene.

His eyes fell to the floor briefly before he spoke out, "Steve."

"Huh?" You were confused, this sudden change in his attitude.

"You can call me Steve," he said, shifting his body as he relaxed into the couch. "We've known each other for a few years now, figured we should might as well be on a first name basis."

Fighting back the eye roll, you were reminded in the ways your boss had made your life into chaos.

"I bet you a million dollars, you don't even know my name, sir."

His gaze softened, laughing out loud as your hard exterior slowly came back.

"Yn." He muttered, smile dancing at his mouth.

You didn't know what to say, stuck between dashing out of his apartment or staying and seeing what type of Steve Harrington you were going to get today.

"I figure I should apologize for the way I've acted today," he said, turning forward as his gaze left your way. You didn't know why, but your feet followed it, walking closer so you could sit next to him. Lowering your self on the couch, you felt self conscious, like he was going to snap any second.

You snorted, "Today?"

He was staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of him, smile still on his face. Laughing at your comment, he shrugged.

"I have been a dick, haven't I?" He whispered, shaking his head as the smile slowly dropped from his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes unfocused as he stared in front of himself. "Such a fucking dick."

You didn't know why, but you felt the need to comfort the man. He was clearly going through something at the moment, if the look alone on his face was any tell.

"Hey, not too bad of one," you wanted to reach out to grab him.

"Don't lie," he laughed, head turning your way. His eyes met yours, deep brown staring into the color of yours. You noticed moles dotting his face, slight lines of aging covering his features. He was still youthful, his eyes telling the tale of a once young boy who was within. "I've been terrible. And you don't deserve that."

A pang hit your heart, feeling the weight of his words. You didn't really deserve his treatment. No matter if he paid you or not.

He continued his words, eyes staring past you. "And yet here I am, sitting here with my assistant. Drinking for the first time in years." A laugh bubbled out of him, hands running down his face as he leaned further back into the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be in Indiana right now?"

You shook your head, not wanting to interrupt him. Making yourself comfortable, you took off your shoes, slipping your feet underneath yourself.

"Well, I'm supposed to be in Indiana, it's the 20th anniversary of, uhm," his voice cracked, eyes welling up with a tear that was blinked back. "It's the anniversary of one of my friend's dying, and I'm not there."

Breath catching in your throat, you didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, sir," you muttered, hand reaching out to rest at his thigh. The touch was inappropriate, but so was this interaction you could say.

He looked down at your hand, watching your thumb as it brushed over his jeans.

"It's okay," he responded, eyes finding yours again. "It's been so long."

You nodded, eyes scanning his face as he forced the corners of his mouth to be turned into a smile. You saw right through it, recognizing the pain of a lost loved one straight through. "I don't think that matters."

His face dropped, sincerity crossing his features as he dipped to glance at your hand once more. Silence over took the two of you, the faint sounds of the streets of LA below you, Steve's staggered breathing as he willed himself not to cry. You were patient, finding comfort in the air as he found his words.

"We were all so young, and it feels so long ago, almost like it doesn't exist anymore," he finally said, voice even. "But I know it does. I just have to face it, I've been running from it ever since it happened."

He gestured to his surroundings, and the puzzle clicked into place. This fame and jerk persona that Steve carried himself in, hid the real him. He ran from all of his problems, like anyone else would, especially when dealing with something as traumatic like he had.

You didn't know the details, didn't care to ask, since it seemed to affect him so much. All you knew was that person who had passed so long ago did matter to him, in ways that you couldn't imagine.

Letting him continue his mumblings about the person he used to know, you found out that his name had been Eddie, the one you heard on the phone before. Robin, long time best friend of his, was trying to get him to come out to reconnect with everyone, he hadn't seen much of them since the 'accident', as he had called it. He kept in touch with everyone over the phone, but seeing them in person was a whole different story. It opened up old wounds that he was afraid of what it might bring out.

The story was slightly confusing, him mentioning something about how they all had nearly lost their lives, details that would leave you wondering what this man had gone through. None of this information was available about him in the public, his childhood always being a vague story that never connected.

"So you have kids then?" You questioned, confused on how you never picked up on this detail. There had to have been at least five of them, names you had never heard before now.

Steve laughed suddenly, shaking his head as his hand rested on your own thigh. The two of you were much closer now, as his story unfolded. Your thighs were touching, each other's hands on resting upon each other, mere inches away from your faces.

"No, I don't have any. I guess, I should stop calling them kids now, you know?" His laugh was low in his throat. "They have kids of their own at this point, so they're far from it."

"Oh..." You were dumbfounded, all of this information being at a loss to you. You weren't here to understand, just here to listen.

"You know what, I'm sorry," he suddenly said, removing his hand from your leg. You wanted to whine at the absence, cold replacing his warm touch. "Maybe you should go, actually. This is pretty, uhm..."

"Unprofessional?" You supplied, inching closer as your boss sat there, wide eyed looking at you. In the dark light of his apartment, you could see the way his brown eyes glimmered at you. "I guess we're even then, me calling you a twat earlier."

Steve cackled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought of the events earlier.

"I knew you said that!"

You blushed, fighting back your own smile.

"It's not my fault, you were acting like one." Your lips pursed together, observing the older man in front of you.

Silence crept over you, the first break in conversation since his phone call ended earlier. Steve stared at you, eyes darting over your features as his teeth scraped over his bottom lip. You felt shy under his gaze, not knowing what to think of the moment as your boss was closer in proximity than he had ever been in your life.

"Can I make it up to you?"

His voice was low, and you were nodding before you even knew what he meant. Grabbing your cheek in his hand, the man leaned forward, capturing your lips into his. The gasp in your throat was lost in his mouth, a shuttering moan coming out instead.

His lips were soft, slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you leaned into the kiss, moving your hand so it rest at the curve of his hip, belt loop curling in your fingers.

He tasted of whiskey, the remnants of the few shots he had earlier lingering on his tongue. Steve pulled away slightly, muttering, "This okay?" against your lips as you nodded, pulling him in by his hair with your other hand.

Your breath grew more shallow as the kiss continued, leaning back as Steve began to tower over you. He shifted in his seat, covering your body with his own as he began to push you back into the couch. His figure was large over yours, scent of vanilla and cedar nearly suffocating you.

With your back flush against the couch, Steve removed himself from your lips, pressing a slight kiss against your jaw. You arched into the touch, palms running over the tight muscle of his back.

"S-steve," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips kissed over your neck. Each press of his mouth sent fireworks down your spine.

He returned his lips to yours, moving with a passion that was lacking previously, confidence replacing the apprehension he once felt.

Your legs spread, inviting him to nestle in between, the thick material of his jeans rubbing against your own. A bulge was present, the thought of what lay underneath sending goosebumps over your skin.

Steve was lost in the kiss, his mouth nipping at yours as he reached down to unbutton your pants, slipping a hand to run over the front of your panties.

"W-wait," you muttered, grabbing his wrist as you pulled away from the kiss. He was confused, mouth red and swollen. His fingers pressed at your covered clit, a small shot of pleasure running through you.

"What's wrong, Yn?" The hand connected to his elbow that propped him up, ran through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. Concern crossed his features, searching your face as doubt crossed it.

"I just, uhh," you felt shy, avoiding his eye contact as the words stumbled out. "I've never really done this before?"

His eyes bulged out, sitting up suddenly as he leaned over you. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you pressed the palm of your hand to your forehead. Way to ruin the moment.

"Oh," he breathed, eyes wide as he scanned you. "We don't-- fuck, sorry. I'm so, uh, wow."

He stood up suddenly, leaving you laying on your back as embarrassment colored your cheeks. You didn't know what to say as the older man panicked.

"Maybe, uh, maybe this was a bad idea," he shook his head, hand reaching down to palm at the front of his pants. Your eyes followed his hand, noticing the prominent bulge.

You spoke out, shaking your head as you didn't make any effort to move. The turn of events tonight made you realize how much you did want the man who stood before you.

"No, we can, it's okay," you said, reaching out to grab his hand that hung by his side. He looked down at your grasp before bringing his eyes to meet yours. "It's alright."

He hesitated, sputtering over something to say.

"Steve, it's okay," you pulled him down, his knees straddling the sides of your hips as he reluctantly settled into the couch. His eyes ran over your body, lingering at the spot where your pants were unbuttoned, cotton panties exposed.

"A-are you sure?" He questioned, moving to lean back down over you. You nodded, leaning up on your elbows to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip.

A breathy moan escaped your mouth, palm caressing the front of his shirt.

"I want to, it's fine."

You knew it was now or never, this moment with your boss being an opportunity that you couldn't have passed up. You always had a crush on him growing up, the face of Hollywood you would see in your teen magazines, posters covering the room of your friends. Working for him would've never had you imagining that it would lead to this moment.

Steve took control of the situation, kissing down your neck as his hand returned between your legs, pants thrown across the room somewhere. It had happened so fast, you barely noticed the cool air that pulled goosebumps from your skin.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" He muttered, freshly shaved stubble prickling against your chin. You could barely get out a moan as your underwear was pulled down your legs, catching at the crook of your ankles.

You felt his fingers brush over your folds, pressing lightly at the slick entrance. His thumb rubbed in small circles over your small bundle of nerves, an eye-rolling feeling that spread your legs apart. His fingers pushed inside, his own moan coming out over yours.

The feeling of the intrusion had you panting, spreading your legs wider while his thick fingers worked you.

"M-more," you begged, throwing your head back as his fingers found a rhythm. He stretched you out over two fingers at this point, thumb collecting slick as it rubbed over your clit.

Steve's fingers curled inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot deep inside. The look on his face was one of admiration, mouth slack as he looked down at you falling apart under his touch.

"That's okay?" His voice was husky, deep with arousal as your hips began to move in time with his fingers. Your orgasm was approaching, hips moving on their own accord as you chased that high.

"God, yes, Steve."

Pushing your shirt up past your bra, Steve gaped at the sight before him, your fingers dipping inside your bra to toy at your own breasts.

"You look so perfect, angel," he muttered, leaning down to capture your lips into his as you fell apart. That white blinding of your orgasm crept in, starting at the base of your spine and blossoming through your entire body. Against his mouth, you shouted out, squeezing your eyes shut as he fingered you through the high.

It took a minute for you to catch your breath, legs spasming from the shocks of the orgasm. You hissed at the over stimulation, Steve pressing into your clit one last time before removing himself from you.

You felt shy suddenly, the haze from the orgasm clearing as you realized you had just done unimaginable things with your boss. Seeming to read your mind, Steve pressed small kisses around the perimeter of your face.

"It's alright," he said, hovering over you. Against your thigh, you could feel his bulge rub against you. "How are you feeling, good?"

You nodded, words at a loss in your throat. You reached up to place a hand on his neck, the other at his waist as you played with the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered close briefly before glancing down at where you were slightly tugging his shirt up.

He made eye contact with you, chewing on his bottom lip. "I need words, angel. Gotta make sure everything is 100% okay, okay?"

"I'm alright, Steve," you gasped, looking down where your own hand rubbed at the exposed part of his abdomen. You needed more, wanted to feel him all over you. You began to pull his shirt over his body, watching as he glanced down at you with hooded eyes. "Just need more of you."

He slowly nodded, sitting back on his knees as he unbuttoned his own pants and slid them down his legs. You giggled at him as he struggled to get them off, the smoothness he had previously disappearing as he nearly toppled off the couch.

You pulled your own shirt and bra off of you, dropping them on the floor next to the couch. "Nice own, old man," you laughed, returning to your spot against the couch.

He frowned at you, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout. "Heeyy, I still got it."

You were left breathless, the laughter disappearing at the tip of your tongue as his figure returned to cover your body. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, the wetness pooling at the head leaving you gasping.

Steve reached down to rub his cock against the length of your cunt, spreading the slick all over as you arched into him.

"Fuuckk, Steve." You hooked your ankle over his hip, warmness pooling in your belly at the thought of him being inside you. His eyes raked over you, lingering on your nipples as they shook with each moan you gave.

"You sure about this, Yn?" He asked, leaning down to dart his tongue over the skin of your breast. It sent shivers down your spine, another wave of heat rushing to your core. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret."

"'M not gonna regret this," you gasped, feeling the way the head of his cock slightly pushed at you. It burned, fuck, he was big.

The slight intrusion had you gripping at his back, leaving crescent moon marks in the skin. Your breath came out ragged, a whine scratching at the back of your throat.

Steve grunted at you, pushing in slowly as he buried his head into your shoulder. He stopped every few inches, hips stuttering slightly as he fought back to urge to fuck back into you full force.

Being an all new feeling, you couldn't help but mewl at every burn of the stretch, a fullness you had never experienced before.

He pressed to the hilt, hips flush against yours as Steve gasped for air in tune with you. He pulled his head back to make eye contact with you, forehead resting against yours. You felt the slight grinding of his hips against yours, the fullness becoming too much as you were stretched over him.

"You gotta bare with me, baby." The nickname had you moaning, fingers reaching down to dig at the plumpness of his ass. You could barely keep your eyes open, senses overwhelmed with Steve. "'S been a while for me."

Nodding, you gasped as he reared his hips back before they stuttered into you again. The movement sent a wave of slick between your thighs again, pleasure blinding you.

He found his rhythm, hips fucking into you slowly, languidly as you fell apart beneath him. You rocked with every movement of his hips, hands running over the tan skin of his body above you.

Finding his lips, you moaned against his mouth, savoring the feeling that was building up in your abdomen as the two of you moved in sync.

Steve gave you words of affirmation, hips drilling into you over and over as his cock brushed over your deep bundle of nerves. Bliss approached you once more, wetness dripping all over him as you were brought to that high again.

"Gonna cum, Steve," you whispered against his mouth, back arching into him. He reached down between you, fingers toying at your clit as they began to rub in small circles.

"Cum for me baby," he breathed, voice low as your eyes rolled back. His voice brought you over the edge, high shout escaping your lips as that pleasure took over you again.

As he fucked your through your orgasm, his own approached, hips losing their rhythm as you felt his release deep inside you. A low groan of his came out, a breathy fuck being the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes.

Your body felt light, head foggy as you came down from your orgasm. It was pure bliss what you felt, heart pounding in your chest as sleep took over you.

You shot out of bed, frantically searching for your phone as you realized the sun was creeping through the curtains. Crisp, white sheets were pooled around you, swallowing you up whole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, trying to search for your device in the darkness of the room. The dark curtains were drawn, only allowing a sliver of light in, but enough for you to realize how late in the morning it was.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, anxiety crept over you, realizing you weren't in your room. A tossing figure lay next to you, his body half covered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In that moment, everything from last night came crashing back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

"Hey, Yn, what's wrong?" Steve's voice was groggy, as he blinked in the darkness of the room. He glanced towards the curtains and then to you, noticing the way you covered your frame with the corner of the sheet.

"What time is it?" You half shouted, looking on the bedside table for your phone. Steve was no help, slowly stretching out his limbs as he yawned.

"Too fucking early for you to be that loud," he muttered, sitting up on his elbows. The sheet pooled around his waist, exposing his bare abdomen and a deep V that cut below his waist.

You quickly looked away, blush deepening on your face. "We have to go, Ste-Mr. Harrington. We're gonna be in so much trouble."

You heard him chuckle at you, sighing as he relaxed once again in the bed. His arms circled your waist, pulling you down into him as you continued to panic. He lay behind you, your head resting on his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"Shhh," he whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. "Called in today, came down with something apparently."

You shook your head, resting your hands on his where they rested on your stomach. "Can you even do that?"

"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" He laughed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. The anxiety that built up in your spine disappeared at his touch, the familiarity of his body replacing it. You turned in his arms, now chest to chest with the man.

His eyes were closed, sleepiness still evident over his features.

"Are you going to fire me?" You whispered at him, watching as his brow furrowed before he squinted open his eyes at you.

"What? No, what are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely confused at your question, hand rubbing at your waist. Relief took stake in your chest.

"I slept with my boss last night," you laughed at yourself, voice dropping even lower as you saw a smirk cross his face. He was smug, shaking his head with laughter as you playfully slapped at his chest.

"Pretty sure I'm the one with a lawsuit pending if anything," he said, laughter dying as you placed a small peck to his lips.

As you pulled away, he leaned into it further, tongue darting out to lick at yours. A wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach.

He towered over you, mouth nipping at you as you sighed into the kiss. The two of you moved in sync, you moving onto your back as Steve leaned over your figure. A breathy moan escaped your lips, only to be cut off by his phone ringing.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, separating himself from you as he reached for it on his side of the bed. He answered it quickly, realizing it was his publicist as he placed it on speaker. "What d'you need, man?"

His lips returned to yours briefly, before kissing down your neck. The sheets were slowly pulled off of you as he made his way down, nipping at your chest, then your nipple, and soft kisses pressed to your stomach.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his publicist droned on about some appearance he had to make in the next week. Steve was staring up at you, making small confirmation 'mhm's' in response to the phone call. A coy smile was on the corners of your mouth as you looked down at him wide eyed.

'Stop' you mouthed through gritted teeth. He nipped at your hip bone in protest, shaking his head at you.

You couldn't tell if it was Steve's mouth pressing to your heat or the next word's of his publicist that made your stomach drop.

"While we're at it, Steve, how about we talk how Page Six has pictures of you with a mysterious somebody in your apartment building?" They grumbled, voice staticy as it came through the phone. You felt Steve smirk against you, tongue lapping between your legs. "Aren't we a little too old to bring people back to your own place like that?"

A moan escaped you as you gripped at his hair. Steve looked up at you, wide eyed as he reached up to slap a hand across your mouth. 'Shhh', he mouthed, his own laugh threatening to spill out as his publicist's voice faltered at the noise.

"St-steve?" It said, apprehension in the tone. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Really, man?"

Steve laughed as his hand remained over your mouth, muffling the sounds of your own laughter. They would recognize it if they heard it. He grabbed the phone from where it lay abandon, speaking into it as his thumb hovered the 'end call'.

"Something came up, gotta take care of it," he grimaced at you as you licked his hand. "Bye!"

He hung up right as the voice protested, tossing his phone aside as he leaned over you once again. His long hair hung in his face, eyes raking over your naked body.

"Now... where were we?"

an: I had to sneak in a line from All of Us Strangers because that movie was so moving. If you know, you know. I promise one of these days, I won't make Steve an asshole right off the bat, he'll be lovable.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #fanfic #my writing #writing my dark fantasies and praying they come true to my alt universe self

895 notes · View notes

m-yg93 · 2 years

Text

Room For Rent ~ A Bangtan Collab

Living with a roommate isn’t always smooth sailing. Whether it's being plagued by a history of conflict, having met under bizarre circumstances or simply falling in love with the one person you know you shouldn't be falling for. Are you ready to put pen to paper and sign away on that room for rent?

After all, “the fate that brings people together is not a cord so easily cut”

Posting January 2023

*All works in this collab are marked 18+. Minors DNI*

→ title: Knocked by @sailoryooons

→ pairing: Streamer!Seokjin x f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): Roommates to lovers, smut, humor

→ summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - he was incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

→ title: Bad Decisions by @jjungkookislife

→ pairing: Tech Support!Yoongi x f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): Friends to lovers, fluff, smut

→ summary: Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?

→ title : Down To Ddaeng by @jeonjcngkook

→ pairing : rapper!hoseok x public relations!reader

→ genre(s)&au(s) : strangers to enemies to lovers, idol verse, one bed, smut & angst

→ summary : jhs is known to the world as the megastar rap god who broke the boundaries of rap music by taking the genre and turning it on it's head to a whole new level. and with his newfound fame comes his first headline slot at the world famous lollapalooza stage. but with thoughtless antics and terrible tabloids rocking his image; this is becoming a bigger issue for his upcoming show. management are forced to intervene to keep jhs from collapsing not only himself but the company's reputation.

you know what they say, keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer.

→ title: Solace by @m-yg93

→ pairing: Producer!Namjoon x f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): Roommates to lovers, smut, fluff

→ summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

→ title: Down And Out by @minisugakoobies

→ pairing: Boxer!Jiminx f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): smut, angst, strangers to lovers, Roommates!AU, Boxer!AU

→ summary: Former boxing champ Park Jimin’s been down so long, he’s forgotten what it’s like to win. On the verge of throwing in the towel, his life changes when you walk through his door in search of a place to stay. Can he swing his way back to the top, now that he has something to fight for?

→ title: Artist’s Block by @bangtanintotheroom

→ pairing: Artist!Taehyung x Roommate!(F)Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): Non-Idol!AU, Roommate!AU, Smut, Humor, Roommates to Lovers

→ summary: With the amount of people that came in and out of your artist roommate’s studio, you were under the impression that he really got around. One day, you approach him, only to find out just what he’s been up to; trying to overcome artist’s block. Wanting to help, you come up with an idea that might help him fix his problem.

→ title: Quit Playing! by @joheunsaram

→ pairing: Cosplayer!JK x Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): roommates au, enemies to lovers, cosplayer au

→ summary: Your roommate was a passive aggressive demon from hell. Not only did he snub you the first time you met him, but he has turned your apartment into a post-it covered junkyard, making you lose all hope of relaxing at home. Perhaps the cute Spider-Man cosplayer you ran into at comic con would be a welcomed change to get you out of this funk.

2K notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 2 years

Text

Listen. I KNOW okay-

I know I’m guilty of making boys softer than they are.

Like Ushijima, who’s never laughed at a joke in his life, but absolutely crumbles when it comes to you and those ridiculous good morning texts you send him and pouts, physically pouts at you if you forget to send him one.

Like Kita, who is so blunt he could make his second years cry back in the day, but hoots and cheers you on when you’re next to him in the passenger seat of his car and successfully rap every line to Doja Cat’s Streets, pointing and gesturing at him with every affection filled line.

Like Kenma, who locks himself in his room at ungodly hours of the night, but constantly is enticed to leave his sanctuary when you send him a three a.m. text asking for a McFlurry and a 10 piece (and some cuddles of c o u r s e)

Like Kyotani, who’s so aggressive and mean, but cannot stand it when you kiss and bite at his neck and ears because it tickles and turns him into a blushy mess, and he just nudges you away with his nose to make you stop, but there’s absolute love in those golden eyes.

Like Sakusa, who hates crowds because people are absolutely disgusting, but will text you in the middle of the night with links to certain tiktok trends and being like “we could do this SO much better smh why are we not trying to be tiktok famous what are we doing”

I’m sorry, deep diving into boys who have the personality of a bowl of soup is my specialty and I have no plans to stop💍❤️

1K notes · View notes

sixeyescurseuser · 5 months

Text

Thinking about an alternate timeline where Geto never defected; he and Gojo took Megumi and the twins in, raising them as one little family.

Whenever smol Megumi had a nightmare, he would sneak into his parents room and wiggle his littol body in between Gojo and Geto.

Upon hearing Megumi’s sniffles, Gojo would instantly wake up. He'd pull the child in to fit against his tummy, softly shhhing him and telling him it’s safe so go back to sleep.

Or whenever Geto reads his books on the couch, the twins love mimicking him. Well, Mimiko mimics him with an actual book while Nanako is more content to brush her doll’s hair. But they’re still spending quality time together doing their own activities.

If Geto helps the kids with homework, then Gojo whips up a five-star-dinner.

When the Gojo/Geto household go on a road trip, Geto dutifully drives and Gojo points out whatever interesting things - cars, scenery, landmarks - they pass by.

Because he’s the youngest, Megumi is awarded the middle seat in the back. He frowns the entire car ride to their destination.

(“Megoomi! Relax that face, or else you’ll have wrinkles in your twenties,” Gojo teases.

Through the rearview mirror, Megumi glares at him like a grumpy cat.)

A couple years later, teen Megumi steadily grows, and Geto has to tell the twins: “Okay girls, let Megumi-kun have the side. He’s taller than both of you now.”

***

When Megumi enters Jujutsu Tech, he’s fawned over because he has the famous dads in the jujutsu world. Some of the curses even know about Megumi (who has traces of his dads’ cursed energies on him) and want to mess with Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru’s kid.

Sometimes, a little part of Megumi wishes he could exist without being recognized as Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru’s kid.

But at the same time, he wouldn’t trade them for the world. It’s just that shouldering the expectations and Gojo/Geto name is a lot to handle as a younger teenager.

The first year consists of adjusting for Gojo and Geto as well, as they have to be professional and treat Megumi as any other student. At times, the line between parents and teachers can be difficult to manage.

Megumi lives in the dorms now, so he has a space away from his parents. Though he knows he can always crash at his parents' house if he wants.

In fact, Megumi goes home often to see his sisters - who have opted for normal school - and enjoy his dad’s (Geto’s) cooking.

***

On his sixteenth birthday, Megumi makes a drastic mistake.

He hadn’t meant to be a party pooper on his special day, it’s just that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night prior, and his body still ached from the injuries he sustained on his previous mission.

Moreover, even though he requested a quiet gathering later in the day, Megumi now sits in front of a cake at ten in the morning, surrounded by his friends and family who have dragged him out to a restaurant that is infamous for having a whole production for customers who dine in on their birthdays.

Under the pressure of dozens of eyes and non-stop talking, cheering, and singing, Megumi inhales deeply, then exhales, blowing out all sixteen candles-

and making the impulsive wish to be alone.

***

Megumi wakes up in his dorm room, alone. No signs of people singing happy birthday or the taste of cake lingering on his tongue.

This is…perfect?

Megumi lets out a long yawn. He glances out the window, he briefly wonders where all the snow went? Did it really all melt after one night?

A light rapping at his door breaks Megumi out of his stupor.

“Fushiguro! Are you awake?” Yuji’s voice filters from the hallway. “Gojo-sensei sent me to check on you. Our meeting started five minutes ago.”

Meeting…what meeting? Weren’t they on winter break? It had just been his birthday, right? What could the meeting possibly be about?

“Coming!” Megumi calls out, then quickly jumps out of bed to get dressed.

Walking to the classroom, Yuji whistling by his side, Megumi realizes it’s not even winter anymore. The flowers are in full bloom, and the sun shines down in all its glory.

Something is seriously off, Megumi knows.

This is proven even further when the meeting Gojo called his students for is to inform them about the upcoming Goodwill Event with their sister-school from Kyoto.

Megumi has no recollection of his parents discussing this to be so soon, nor does he know how the seasons suddenly changed and everyone seemed to be on the same page except for him.

Feeling sorely out of the loop, Megumi takes advantage of his classmates’ constant chatter to wave his father over. Gojo approaches Megumi’s desk with his hands shoved in his pockets, and black blindfold secured over his eyes.

“Dad, what’s going on? I thought we didn’t start up classes until the new year,” Megumi says. Gojo’s lips twitch into a smile, hesitant yet cheerful.

“Oh? What is this? Are you going to call me Dad after all these years? Megumi is finally coming around!" Gojo exclaims, clapping his hands excitedly. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow in deep confusion.

"What? But I always call you-" Megumi starts, but Gojo has already turned away to answer one of Nobara's questions.

Megumi's heart sinks.

His father has never turned away from him like that before. Never.

Without thinking, Megumi pulls his phone out and frantically searches for his other dad's number. The longer it takes for Megumi to find the contact "Papa," the more Megumi's heart dangerously speeds up.

This can't be, Megumi thinks as he finishes scrolling through his contact three times.

It's- it's not there.

Something is very, very wrong...

When the meeting concludes, every student except Megumi filters out of the classroom.

(Fushiguro? You coming?” Yuji questions. Megumi shakes his head and explains he has to ask Gojo-sensei a couple questions.

“We’ll meet you at the front in fifteen minutes. I need some new outfits for this event,” Nobara says. She and Yuji shuffle out after that.)

Now alone with his father(?), Megumi asks where his Papa Geto is.

Gojo instantly freezes at those words. “What did you say?”

“Papa…he’s not here. I can’t find his contact in my phone either,” Megumi elaborates, holding up his device. “Where is he? Usually, you’d be all over him by now.”

“Who, Megumi, who?” Gojo pushes.

Megumi answers, “My papa, Geto Suguru?”

Gojo is silent for a short beat, then utters the first thing that his disassociating mind can muster: “You're not my Megumi."

And he slams Megumi against the wall.

“DAD? PLEASE STOP! YOU’RE HURTING ME! I-I DON'T KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON!?” Megumi yells, his heart slamming against his ribcage now being on the receiving end of his not-father’s attack.

Meanwhile, Gojo shoves his blindfold off and uses six eyes to scan the boy up and down. But nothing about Megumi's cursed energy seems off. Everything seems to be in place…

This is Fushiguro Megumi.

"Dad...I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong," Megumi whimpers, gripping the wrists that pin him with unmovable strength.

His traitorous eyes begin to tear up, paralyzing fear crawling down his spine. He wants to go back to bed and wake up between his parents after this horrible nightmare, wants to wake up after being squished in the middle seat during their five-hour car ride, wants to go back to the familiarity of his home where his family was-

"I want my Papa b-back…”

Gojo abruptly releases Megumi from his hold, crystal-blue eyes shaking in disbelief.

Megumi collapses to the ground but scrambles back up and flees.

What have I done? The two of them think to themselves.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

#jjk #fushiguro megumi #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu fluff #satosugu fanfic #goge #cerdrabbles #alternate timeline #angst #Megumi just got Shrek-4-Ed

138 notes · View notes

ranidspace · 5 months

Note

i don’t get the whole rap battle between Kendrick & drake because, obviously kendrick’s the better one here but he apparently knew all this shit about drake being a pedophille and groomer the WHOLE TIME and then only spoke up in order to win a fight, and kendrick had Kodak Black on his last album, who was charged and plead guilty for sexual battery in 2016 for raping a teenage girl and also got in hot water for child neglect. same kinda shit as drake. idk, no matter how good his bars are and how good he pretends he is, kendrick still just seems like a typical man who protects and supports predators when they’re his friends and calls women bitches while he’s at it

yeah. context to those who dont know kodak black was convicted of rape in 2016 (6 years before mr morale dropped) and has a history of violence

i really cant argue against that, but i believe he wasn't added to the album as an endorsement of what he did. Mr. Morale is an album about personal growth, and about Kendrick himself. Kodak said himself that him and kendrick are very similar in a lot of small ways.

while kendrick's never said why kodak was added to the album, many believe it's the contrast of despite the fact they're similar, kodak has a history of violence and has went to jail many times, highlighting how even though kendrick is successful, others like him are still struggling with systemic racism and the cycle of violence and crime pushed by that same system.

The line as well "like it when they pro black, but I’m more Kodak Black" is literally telling the viewers he's not a Savior or a Mr. Morale, he's closer to a Big Stepper who makes awful mistakes

i can't say it was a good idea to include a rapist on an album, that does deserve criticism. but i believe it wasn't him supporting rapists, it more read as "there's growth and change both individuals and the entire system needs to do"

I'd definitely say i didn't explain this part enough because i didnt know too much about kodak black so i'd really appreciate others chiming in.

as for the "people have known about drake being a groomer the whole time" yeah. people have. he's gotten away with it until now. and it's a good thing that a well respected and incredibly famous person is bringing light to it.

kendrick had fuck all to do with drake since poetic justice so he didnt say shit about him. a lot of the industry kinda hated drake the whole time, and have been speaking out against him. kendrick's just the second (shout out megan thee stallion) to make it into a popular catchy song, which is a good thing as well because it gets more people talking about it!!!

Drake was the one who made Push Ups and Taylor Made and constantly went online to told him to make a response track. like the feud would have been over at Like That but it was Drake constantly provoking him to make content. Straight up doing things that kendrick said "hey if you do this i'm going to retaliate" and then drake did it, and kendrick retaliated exactly like he said he was. This whole thing is Drake's fault, he's the one constantly pushing it.

I can't say kendrick isnt also pushing it now, but everything's pointing to he's just making more songs to bring more people to talk about it. There's no ads on the videos. He's not copyright claiming anything. He's making serious songs to highlight issues and catchy songs to spread this info far. it's a genius use of the medium to bring light to the issues drake brings.

which is what kendrick is fucking known for. using music to bring light to the issues the world face

#ask #Anonymous #kendrick lamar #kodak black #drake

62 notes · View notes

blvckentropy · 5 months

Text

WARNING LONG RANT!

Okay so I've been sitting on Drake so called "diss track" and I still declare it as the biggest CONTRADICTING ASS track ever. Like I get die hard Drake fans gone be like he won regardless but he hasn't because he made several deep holes in his argument. Granted you probably don't give a damn and that's fine. Overall, neither do I but some of you got so blinded and hyped by his one-liners and his flow that you ain't peep what he really said did you? Ngl, had me sitting here like a was crazy for a minute. Now correct me if I'm wrong cause I also had to fact check myself, but these are the lines that got me like now wait wait....

You said, "The ones that you're gettin' your stories from, they all clowns" just to say "We plotted for a week and then we fed you the information".... which one is it? Are you calling yourself a clown or the ppl you sent the info. to? I'm perplexed.

"What about the bones we dug up in that excavation? And why isn't Whitney denyin' all of the allegations? Why is she following Dave Free and not Mr. Morale? You haven't seen the kids in six months, the distance is wild Dave leaving heart emojis underneath pics of the child"

First and for most, what is your obsession with this woman? Also are we in high school? Why we worried about someone follow count and/or who following who? She a grown ass woman like she can't have male friends. Plus, if irl she with Kendrick every day, why does she need to? And if Kendrick aint worried about, why are you? You caught up in finding out if that's her real bd but where are your evidence? If Kendrick has to, you do too. Childish.

BUT THIS IS WHERE IT GOT DISRESPECTFUL!

"This Epstein angle was the shit I expected TikTok videos you collected and dissected Instead of being on some diss-direct shit You rather fucking grab your pen and misdirect shit My mom came over today and I was like, "Mother, I—, mother, I—, mother—" Ah, wait a second, that's that one record where you say you got molested"

"This about to get so depressin' This is trauma from your own confessions This when your father leave you home alone with no protection, so neglected That's why these pedophile raps and shit you so obsessed with, it's so excessive"

"Touch My Body" by Mariah Carey play, you probably start reflectin"

This whole verse was a misinterpretation of Kendrick's song "Mother I Sober" which I had to educate myself with. Long story short, the song is about his mom SA and how she thought he was by his cousin even when he told her "no" and it forms a bigger picture to his overall family trauma as a whole and so on. So not only did you Mr. " You gotta learn to fact check things and be less impatient" if that ain't the biggest pot calling the kettle black idk what is. You got it wrong (Kendrick pretty much explained it) then double down on borderline prob over the line atp disrespecting his mother and all and every victim of SA? We victim shaming now?

I never been with no one underage, but now I understand why this the angle that you really mess with Just for clarity, I feel disgusted, I'm too respected If I was fucking young girls, I promise I'd have been arrested I'm way too famous for this shit you just suggested

*Slow claps* Congratulations you played yourself. What in the fuckery? CURRENTLY....DIDDY DOODLE BOB HAS ALLEGATIONS RIGHT NOW AND HE'S MORE FAMOUS THAN U. And don't get me started on the list....umm...you literally just named one (If you still bumping R. Kelly, you could thank the Savior)

"Only fuckin' with Whitneys, not Millie Bobby Browns, I'd never look twice at no teenager" but you'll look once? Also, someone que up the video with him on stage w/ a 17-year-old. He and I quote "Why you look like that?" "You thick. look at all this" Then kiss her all over her face🤔 Sir a kiss on the cheek or forehead would suffice but I digress.

And correct me if I'm wrong, I believe the only reason Kendrick hasn't even the touch the "beating allegations" is because he covers all that in both Mr. Morale and Mother I sober? If I'm correct, then you basically didn't tell us nothing that hasn't been said on him. Plus you also not fact checking. Where's of your proof? I would think someone with the upper hand would have laid down evidence that you mastermind...oh wait...was Kendrick right along? Now you look like the goofy on defense. Like do Kendrick even have to say anything?

Bruh, but the funniest part on it all. You acting like YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS. YOU DROP A DISS first wanting him to response and now you trying to make it seem like you didn't? My guy, if your actions alone here isn't a manipulation master class. Chileeeeee

#drake #kendrick lamar #long rant #my opinion #just chatting #tw warning #the heart part 6

55 notes · View notes

chewiiez · 3 months

Text

idol au! idol au! idol au fengqing + hualian!

ive been brainrotting on this for a while now — i do love my kpop jpop cpop guys and i wanted to explore these dynamics with xl4 !! (an excuse to watch more time to twice really) so yay let's gaur!!

so basically, xl4 is a famous group X4, shortened form of XI4NLE. a boy group, formed through a survival show.

what is a survival show? no, it's not about wilderness survival – a survival show is trainees competing against each other in order to become part of a sometimes temporary, but otherwise permanent, group! you have performance missions, activity missions, domestic and international voting, all of which determine who stays and who is eliminated. all the trainees dorm together, or maybe if the show has a special theme, the trainees are segregated based on the theme.

anyways, my theme actually came from my fav group's (twice) survival show, sixteen. in sixteen, the ceo of the company chose trainees from his own company and divided them into two categories: major and minor. major are trainees who could be debuted tomorrow if they felt like it. minors are trainees that are talented, but need to compete against majors for a better chance.

so in the X4 survival show, we have the same segregation. from our beloved quartet:

feng xin and xie lian are in the majors.

hua cheng and mu qing are in the minors.

now, let's go over their skills!

after many mental line distributions, song listening sessions, and others, i decided on the perfect skills for the quartet. (IMO)

feng xin: main rapper / lead dancer / lead vocalist / leader. i think feng xin as a rapper would be soooo good omg. spitting bars left and right! i think of him as this ace card that no one really expects from a guy who looks like a cute golden retriever. he also has good stage presence and good leadership, which makes him a well rounded idol. you'd find him on forums of people discussing "underrated idols in the cpop industry!!!"

mu qing: secondary main vocal / main dancer / visual. secondary because his main strength is dance and flexibility, but he has the second highest vocal range of the group!! he's also the visual, because in the actual tgcf fandom everyone talks about how he's so pretty and all, obviously had to include that. mu qing is a sort of enigma to many on the show because off stage he's a blank slate, but on stage his stage presence is so captivating....

xie lian: secondary main dancer / lead rapper / sub vocal / center. i think xie lian is also a very flexible dancer, considering in canon he and mq had similar weapons and cultivation, i wanted to make this connection. now as for rapping, he's really good, but his flow could use a little bit of work! sub vocal because i wanted the canon neck cursed shackle to come into play. AND CENTER! such an important position: he has the most center time in choreo because of his stage presence (note that center time ≠ iconic/hard dance moves. those may be given to mq because he's the main main dancer, and sometimes to xl.)

hua cheng: main vocal / sub rapper / fotg. yess, hua cheng is the main, main vocal of the group! he has the highest range and his voice is perfection!! i also think his flow would be good, so sub rapper. finally, fotg is face of the group, aka a member that you usually think of when you think of the group. i wanted to give this to xl but realized that when people think of tgcf so many think of hc first, so yay, the position is his. that way, everyone has an important position to maintain!

now for some lore:

hua cheng is one of the youngest contestants alongside sqx and hx on the show

feng xin wins the show because he gets the most international and domestic votes from fangirls after a performance of his goes viral

xie lian is in a close second, only 10 votes off 😭

mu qing is eliminated from the show because during one of the performances, the group forcefully gave the high note to him, but he couldn't hit it. however, yushi huang brings him back with her producers choice card.

xie lians family are big investors in the community.

feng xin and mu qing had a longstanding rivalry for the better part of their career, which only ended after the BIG jun wu scandal. (i can talk about this if people are interested.)

feng xin has written the most songs for the group, followed by hua cheng and xie lian tied, and then mu qing.

their reality TV show is called XFOURONLINE!

they debut solo in a weird order: xie lian, feng xin, hua cheng, and mu qing.

they've all gone viral multiple times.

their best charting song to date is probably from an album that took a more mature route.

please do tell me if you're interested in this au because i would love to blabber about the jun wu scandal, dynamics, and subunits, as well as the group image and other things 💖

#chewy chews #tgcf #mu qing #feng xin #xie lian #hua cheng #fengqing #hualian #idol au #fengqing core #someone pls tell me you like this...please...

53 notes · View notes

monebula-art · 23 days

Text

Yknow I’m gonna rant about something rq. Maybe a bad take but just 👀👀👀 hear me out.

EDIT: this is legit just a saucy rant it’s not meant to cast blame on anyone and I love both Astarion’s because I find the character progressions and options for both Spawn and Ascended to be equally juicy with their own things to unpack. Every player has the freedom to choose and experience the adventures however they want to. These are legit just. My ramblings in amidst some hate brakes on Ascended that I wanted to shout into the void about. It’s not a dissertation. If anything this is just a ‘What if after the End’ kind of scenario that’s been tumbling around in my head. That’s it.

People give Ascended Astarion a bad rap, but like lemme cook for a smidge. If you stick with him. If you support and love him, sure he’s a little power hungry and arrogant and the power of being the Ascended gets to his head a little.

But like, he mentions going traveling. Seeing the world with you. Maybe for decades, for CENTURIES even. Just the two of you seeing all the world has to offer. He’s spent two hundred years+ STUCK in Baldur’s Gate. His love is no bougie noble who must travel in a carriage. And in fact I’d think a Tav or Durge would insist against it. They would travel like they used to. Like people do. (And famous words that tamed the most notorious of vampires was ‘Travel like people do, you might like it~’)

I think that time would eventually change Astarion back to who he was on track to being before he Ascended. Aka ‘Spawn Astarion’. Seeing the world from a ground perspective. Not above it, alongside it. Having a Tav/Durge who is grounded.

Once his little power trip has run its course, I think he’d mellow out. It might take a decade or two. But he’s got LITERAL ETERNITY to address his hurt. And with a loyal and loving Tav/Durge by his side, being his support and his compass how could he stay lost for long? Like think about it.

Who says yall can’t rule a new nation of Vampires? Who’s to say a world where Vampires can become a diplomatic SOCIETY that can coexist beside other mortals? A world where blood isn’t stolen or taken, but given freely by willing offerers. Where spawn are created to serve by their choice and not stolen out of the night with ultimatums to be slaves??? Where a bite from a vampire doesn’t mean a life of servitude or a death sentence??? Yknow??? Kinda like y’all’s romance first started????

Imagine a Tav who is so passionate about changing THEIR nation, that they build a dream where tormented slave spawns like Astarion and wretched monsters like Cazador don’t EVER HAVE TO EXIST.

And at the top they get to rule it all together. The king and queen of a new nation, a new age of vampires out of the shadows. Where they are beloved and revered and ok maybe a little bit feared, yknow? Rulership is hard.

Tell me in a few decades Astarion wouldn’t be all over that shit. With a dedicated partner, they could guide that ambition of his into something TRULY AMAZING. Like how is no one seeing the POTENTIAL? They swear he’s trash, like he wasn’t totally hanging on you before. Like he doesn’t revere you like the sun as his consort. His treasure??? His love, who he sees and desires eternity with? He’s not just keeping you around for shits n giggles. Like he doesn’t have compassion for people that just because he makes a fucked up choice(one that lowkey you helped him make so if you wanna be like ‘Oh but the 7000 lives!’ Like you made that decision with him. I mean. It was a shitty decision and if you fail the roll you fail the role that isn’t on you. I can get that thinking the Ascendant route is the best course and getting more than you bargained for. And I’ll concede, he’s INSUFFERABLY arrogant. But that’s just one choice in a long line of, really ONLY having fucked up choices to begin with???….. every body has done some irredeemable shit. Not saying you can’t condemn Astarion for that, plenty of the characters already do. But like… you don’t have to??? The lesson was keep living and live better. It’s the only way to make up for the misery and suffering.

He opened up to you once. Permitted your probing, even when it pissed him off. He learned to love you because of that. The power got to his head a little and he’s using that as a substitute coping mechanism for shit he still hasn’t dealt with. It’s fresh. It’s a very open wound he’s trying not to show.

It’ll pass sooner or later. And he’ll have to start healing. That’s why he has YOU. That’s why you stay.

Both Ascended and Spawn say they are with you, if you choose to go down the dark road and embrace your destiny as Durge. Both of them are with you no matter how bloody or deplorable or immoral it gets. Spawn isn’t just suddenly this sweet innocent with a peerless moral compass just because he decided not to ascend. Their dialogue is exactly the same. He’s still THERE and he’s still with his darling.

Miss me with that Ascended is irredeemable but Spawn did nothing wrong. They’re both equally happy to stab someone just for funsies. One hopped on the healing track sooner, that’s it. Abandoning Ascended Astarion right after his ascension just cuz you don’t like how he got a little intense about it is like GUARANTEEING he becomes a bitter and sadistic tyrant. Comparing him to Cazador so soon after he just ended that chapter but has yet to actually DEAL with the chapter mentally or emotionally is an interesting choice, but like… idk a lil wild from my perspective I guess.

You handled him with honesty, trust and patience all up until now, but suddenly he gets a little spooky and you back out? Seems to me like someone is just scared of his power now that he ain’t weaker than you anymore and needs to be protected hm??? Now he can actually fuck you up if he wanted and instead of embracing that with him some of yall wanna be like ‘Oh well now you’re the monster you always hated’.

Grow uuuuup. Make him worse? Make him better??

It has to get worse BEFORE it gets better. That’s how improvement works. It’s everyone’s personal choice to stick with him or bail. I don’t think either choice is a wrong one is all I’m saying. If you’re all in for him, and his mess, and sticking with him for the evil, or even to see if in some aftersotry imagining that time and wisdom eventually mellows him out a bit then cool~ I think that’s possible tbh?

If you think he’s too ‘abusive’ for you to stick with then feel free to end things. It doesn’t make him any less insufferable.

All I’m saying as someone who’s legit been in a few abusive relationships in the past— using possessive language and being manipulative and desperate for control is not a character trait that just appeared out of nowhere after Astarion Ascended. And some folks can just not like the path he took and wanna back out without outcrying a whole essay about why he’s now terrible and abusive and nobody should ever enjoy the Ascendant route. Is all I’m saying.

#ascended astarion #not me getting worked up about the moral journey of a man who is not real #it be like that

21 notes · View notes

dedalvs · 10 months

Text

So there's this techno song by C+C Music Factory called "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)". It's most famous for the vocal scream line "EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!". I want to draw your attention to the rapping by Freedom Williams—in particular, these two lines:

It's your world and I'm just a squirrel Tryin' to get a nut to move your butt

I want you to hear this every single time you hear this song from now on.

#im just a squirrel #music #factory

69 notes · View notes

netherbios · 2 months

Text

PERSEUS ARTEMI

ABOUT

Name: Perseus Artemi

Nickname: Persi

Birthday: 15 January

Age (human years): 25

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 6’0”

Weight: 150 lbs

Orientation: Pan(romantic/sexual/platonic)

Location: Hwandae, Parádeisos

Current Occupations: Idol (MX) at Anon Entertainment, Model

Side Occupations: DJ (moved from current occupation)

Blood Caste: Azure

Sign: Scorrius - The Cunning

Caste Ability: Magnetic Appeal - a mental ability that makes other trolls feel the strong feelings that Persi is currently experiencing.

CHARACTER APPEARANCE

PERSONALITY/DESCRIPTION

If you listen to the mostly playful reputation by the fans of xphoria, you would be led to believe that Perseus is lazy and doesn’t do much for the group or in general and that he is always sleeping and letting his bandmates do most activities for him. It is however far from the truth, Persi is like many trolls that took up a career in the music industry a workaholic who had at one point been juggling both idol life that was mostly at night and the life of a DJ during the day which left no proper time to actually sleep giving him that famous sleepy phase he is still known for.

Persi is extremely introverted making it hard for trolls to get to know him personally as he holds a lot of personal information about himself close to himself. He is a dedicated friend however and will go out of his way to fulfil anything they ask of him if it helps keep them happy, the one that gets this treatment the most is his quads Kyun and Min.

Persi is low energy compared to the rest of xphoria and one fact is right about what his fans say, he enjoys sleeping a great deal and will choose to take naps in his free time opposed to something more active like for example Min would.

HISTORY/SIMPLIFIED

Perseus was raised by a very small frog lusus who as the troll grew up had some difficulties keeping up with raising him. He would take on more and more responsibilities by himself to help her, this behaviour would intensify over time stepping fully into workaholic territory. He found out that trainees in the music industry were offered housing while they trained with that company and to free his mama the burdens of raising a troll that had more demanding needs than a grub.

Persi would develop a flushed crush on one of the trolls that were training with him, the two were briefly in a relationship until they separated when the troll broke it off because they were selected to join a developing group. During this time he had also become friends with Minoru who insisted that he call him Min.

He would be selected for a new group and would simply be called xphoria, Persi would suggest Min both because he believed that the gold blooded troll had the talent and because he had developed pale feelings for him. They would become moirails shortly afterwards.

xphoria would debut as a seven member group until it was decided that they needed another troll to strengthen the rapping line, Min had wanted another trainee from the company and Persi had agreed with him. In the end the ‘outside’ talent Kyun was asked to join, Min was quick to show his displeasure by the situation causing a number of fights with the other members and while Persi didn’t hold as strong feelings about what happened he still sided with Min to show his moirail support.

Problems started when multiple scandals about Seok surfaced and caused him to leave suddenly without consulting any of them, it went downhill after that as their schedules intensified. Persi was expected to live through both an idol schedule and then afterwards do DJ gigs to improve the band’s reputation and make them more well known. Mantri got wind of this by a supposed mysterious messenger and like with Aeris got them out of there and into Anon Entertainment although to Persi’s displeasure they weren’t able to do any work until they had been given the all clear physically and mentally.

QUADRANTS AND RELATIONSHIPS

Quadrants

Matesprit - Kyuna Kuina (“Sleeping Melodies”)

Moirail - Minoru Vicitra (“Dreaming Out Loud”)

Kismesis - Open

Auspistice - Open

TRIVIA

- Don’t call Perseus, Persi if you are in a personal setting only friends can call him that. Fans do too but there’s nothing he can do about that so he just doesn’t.

- Persi’s shirt will never move/fall down; it stays like that out of spite.

- has dipped his toes in acting but that’s usually a group activity.

- Doc Ver. that is prettier

- tags : info about Perseus, asking Perseus, Perseus art, aesthetic tag, the everything tag and TH

#Perseus Artemi #sprites? yes

20 notes · View notes

thepixelelf · 2 years

Text

and the universe said,

01 "you are not alone"

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery chapter warnings: language, mentions of a non-fatal car collision relationship(s): ot13 x reader

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

chapter one (2.2k) ⭒ next

Choi Seungcheol, as humble as he is and as modest as he always tries to be, knows that he’s famous.

Sure, he rapped that they started from nothing — two pyeong — and that they built a company from a basement suite up. Sure, he whispered that no one does it like they do. Sure, he beckoned wannabes to trail after his success. But he knows that his success, their success comes from being part of a group that helps each other stand tall, members that love each other, a family (in so few words) that worked their collective asses off to get where they are today. It wasn’t always easy. There were mountainous bumps along the way, and bumps that still rock Seungcheol’s world even now.

He can feel the headache coming on already.

@/seokshinedk: seventeen are made for each other!! literally chosen by the universe your faves could never 💅

The boys sit, gathered in the conference room with nervous eyes and bouncing legs, a buzzing energy in the air around each of them that all have yet to address. A couple staff members are discussing, hushed but urgent, among themselves near the opposite end of the table from Seungcheol, who’s scrolling the forums against his better judgement.

@/mingyubies: carat always knew svt are soulmates 😊 this just confirms it

It started with two girls in eastern Canada. Something as simple as a car collision made global news, all for one simple reason. The girl driving said a small, red heart appeared on her inner wrist like a tattoo, and before she could even try to understand what it was or where it came from, an invisible force attempted to pull her out the driver’s side window. She was held down by her seatbelt, but the confusion had caused her to drive across a solid yellow line and almost hit a girl on the sidewalk.

Who didn’t try to jump out of the way, because she was too entranced by the red heart that had suddenly appeared on her wrist.

They fell in love by the time the police arrived. Within a month, their engagement reached the news.

The western world was quick to bring up the word “soulmates”.

Seungcheol remembers that day — a Tuesday — because he’d woken up with five solid lines, about three centimetres long, parallel to each other and equally spaced apart, on the flat of his right hand. It laid just atop where his thumb connected to the rest of his hand. He’d freaked out and scrambled his way into the living room to find Joshua and Minghao already awake, wide-eyed and just as frazzled as he felt, the same marks on their hands. A quick text to the group chat confirmed that the others (well, the ones that were up) had the marks too, and Seungcheol had to believe it wasn’t some prank. It wasn’t funny, if it was.

At first, the staff hadn’t believed any of them when they went to work that day. As the leader, Seungcheol was reprimanded for letting everyone get matching tattoos without the company’s permission. One of their managers had tried to defend the boys, saying at least the tattoos weren’t anything graphic or could be interpreted as such. But when he’d turned to Seungcheol with a confused expression, asking “What’s the tattoo supposed to be, anyway?” Seungcheol could only shrug.

That certainly didn’t help their case.

They’d been told to go home for the day, to repent, or something stupid like that, and it was only when word of soulmates reached the company that they asked if the tattoos were really tattoos.

By then, cases were popping up all around the world — people with matching or similar or connected marks appearing on their skin, leading them to people they ended up loving. There’d been a handful of cases with three people sharing the same mark, and one case of a group of four. Just under two hundred pairs came forward in the US alone.

Thirteen… even Seungcheol, with as much love as he has for his members, his brothers, felt like that was a lot.

The staff had their doubts, too. Each of the boys got sat down, asked how they were and if they felt any different. Seungcheol doesn’t know how the rest of them answered, but he told the staff honestly;

He didn’t feel any different. The only change was the five black lines on his hand, and the fact that he felt like he was missing something. Like all the reading he’d done up on the newfound “soulmate phenomenon” still wasn’t telling him everything he wanted— needed to know.

Whatever the other boys told the staff, they ended up proposing to pass the marks off as regular old tattoos.

The idea was shot down as soon as it flew up.

Maybe they could pass off their marks as some sort of friendship tattoo — if only their marks didn’t move.

Even the boys had no idea what their marks were, or what they meant, until a meeting with the staff, where they asked if, instead of painstakingly covering the marks with caked-on foundation, the members could just say they decided to cement their brotherhood in something a little more permanent than a ring. One of the stylists was going over possible meanings they could give the five lines when Seokmin practically leaped up out of his seat, yelling out.

“HOLY SHIT,” he went. “HOLY SHIT GUYS.”

He shoved his hand in Jihoon’s face, who recoiled in annoyance and swatted Seokmin’s hand away, but in that time, several of the others, Seungcheol included, figured out what Seokmin meant.

Seungcheol gawked, wide-eyed and slack-jawed at his hand, where his mark was… playing.

No noise came out, but notes, unmistakable with their stems and flags and heads and bars, moved across the lines they all realized in that moment made up a staff, dancing from right to left in a steady rhythm. They disappeared as soon as they ran off the bars. A commotion erupted in the meeting room, and the staff were helpless but to watch as the boys scrambled to each other, staring at their own marks and each other’s, coming to the conclusion that all of them were exactly the same. Each showed the same notes at the same pace.

It was a marvel. It was magic.

It was undeniable that their marks were a prime example of the soulmate phenomenon, and their boss decided, fine, it might actually be good publicity for the group to be “the first and only kpop act made up completely of soulmates”.

And it was.

@/eissasuperstar no wonder they are always so synchronized!! they’re soulmates!!

Seungcheol has to scoff. They’re synchronized because they stay in the studio until five in the morning. They’re synchronized because they’ve been practising their asses off since debut. They’re synchronized because they put in the work, put in the hours. It’s about drive, it’s about power…

It’s not because the tattoos on their hands just so happen to be magic.

After confirming that, yes, the marks they all have appeared the same day as the rest of the soulmates in the world, Seventeen blew up. More than any comeback or song or award or interview or photoshoot ever did for them. Pledis seems eager to ride the wave of news fodder while it lasts, to release a surprise comeback or something, which is what Seungcheol thought this emergency meeting was going to be about.

“Please pay attention, Seungcheol,” Shin Yejung, one of the PR representatives and the person who's been on top of this whole situation from the start, asks, making Seungcheol look up from his phone to find the entire room watching him.

Sheepishly, he puts his phone face-down on the table and nods to show he’s listening.

Yejung sighs, then addresses the group again. “A lot of news outlets are saying that platonic soulmates can also be a result of the phenomenon, but…”

She trails off, and Vernon raises a brow. “But?”

“Most of them cite you guys as an example.” Yejung doesn’t like what she just said. She grimaces like the words taste bitter in her mouth.

“But they’re not wrong,” Joshua speaks up. “I mean, look at us.” Limply, he raises both arms to gesture at the group. “We’re not madly in love with each other like all those couples on tv.”

“Ouch, hyung,” Chan says, if only to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work.

“What is this all about?” Seungcheol finally asks what everyone’s thinking. He sees all the boys turn to Yejung with expectant faces, except Jeonghan, who regards her with a blank expression. She returns his gaze for half a second, so fast that Seungcheol almost misses it.

She takes a deep breath. “There’s no certain way to tell right now if there isn’t such a thing as platonic soulmates, but I don’t know if that’s… well, your case.”

Mingyu, interest piqued, sits up straighter in his chair. “What do you mean?”

“From what we can tell, none of you feel the pull,” one of the managers says. Myungjun was mostly quiet while Yejung spoke, but now he makes eye contact with Seungcheol.

“The pull?”

“It’s what they’re calling the connection between soulmates,” Yejung answers. “Apparently, once soulmates meet, there’s this… pull. I don’t really know how it works, or what it supposedly feels like, but they say it’s, um— irresistible.”

Myungjun waves a hand at the group. “You guys don’t have that.”

“Maybe platonic soulmates just don’t get the pull,” Wonwoo reasons. “And that’s what makes it platonic.”

“Sure.” Yejung nods, but her doubtful frown betrays the action. “It’s just; I’ve been doing some research on marks—”

“We all have,” Minghao interrupts.

“Music related marks, specifically.” Yejung silently bows her head at Minghao to apologize for continuing over him, even though he’s the one who cut into what she was saying. She seems extra jittery today, for some reason. “The notes show up at random, right?”

Some of the boys share looks before they all nod.

“And they never last that long— about a song’s worth at most, but usually snippets rather than full songs. Right?” Yejung seems to already know the answers, but the boys nod along anyway. “And you’ve never found a correlation? To anything you’re listening to? Or something any of you are singing?”

Jihoon mutters, “It’s a lot of Day6.”

More than a few heads turn his way, and he sinks in his seat, shy under the scrutinizing gazes of his members.

“You can read the music?” Seungkwan interrogates. “How the hell— the notes move by so fast.”

Jihoon just shrugs, looking at Yejung and silently pleading with his eyes for her to continue so he doesn’t have to explain himself.

“Anyway,” she saves him. “Jeonghan came to us with a possibility we hadn’t considered before, which is why I did this research in the first place.”

All eyes turn to Jeonghan, who doesn’t react in the slightest, calm gaze still locked on Yejung.

She considers her words, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I video-called a couple who had the staff as their mark, like you guys. Their notes appeared when the other sang.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Shin Yejung doesn’t often interact directly with Seventeen for her job, but this isn’t the first time she’s been toe-to-toe with Choi Seungcheol, the guy who famously said he cares more about his members than the company. She’s a strong woman who, in many ways, worked just as hard as the boys to get where she is today. She can hold her own. Right now, though, under Seungcheol’s hard gaze, she seems to waver.

Once more, she meets Jeonghan’s eyes, who nods silently as if to encourage her to say what she needs to.

“Jeonghan— I… We—” She waves a weak arm over towards the staff side of the table. “—think you might have a soulmate.”

The silence that follows is awkward and painful, until Soonyoung, who — against his character — hasn’t said a single word yet, raises his hand and goes, “You… you mean…”

“Someone out there is connected to each of you, and whenever they sing, it appears on your marks.”

Seungcheol feels the shift in the room. The nervous energy that was buzzing lowly before is now at a quiet but undeniably present hum. Some of the boys share looks, some of them stare at their hands, or their laps. Some are still gawking at Yejung for that bomb she just dropped. It’s like someone flipped the switch. They’d all been talking in the dark until now. Seungcheol watches Jeonghan lean back in his chair with a satisfied grin, arms crossed, and he swears he hears someone whisper, “Soulmate…” under their breath.

Wait. Wait! This is all too much all too fast. He needs to understand the situation in order to handle it. He needs to reign in his friends before they manage to do something astronomically stupid. He needs to—

Chan stands up, and the sound of the chair scraping across the floor is deafening.

“Sit down,” Myungjun says, monotone as ever.

Next to Seungcheol, someone’s leg starts bouncing like it’s attached to a motor engine. Or, wait, is that his leg?

“We need to talk about what this means for Seventeen.”

But Seungcheol can already see the awestruck, elated look shared between Mingyu and Seokmin. He can already see Vernon on his phone, googling how to find your soulmate. He can already see the flaming red tint of Jihoon’s ears.

Oh.

Oh no.

chapter one (2.2k) ⭒ next

updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

924 notes · View notes

princess-sof-time · 1 year

Text

ᴏsʜɪ ɴᴏ ᴋᴏ

Reader is light-hearted and goofy, but tends to make a lot of jokes about wanting to die (Ruby, Aqua)

S/O who wears glasses and really has trouble seeing without them and whenever he takes his glasses off for whatever reason he forgets where he put them (Aqua, Ruby, Akane)

Aqua Hoshino with a female S/O who is an actor..S/O is that famous to the point that people asked her for autographs and asked her to sign things which she was more than happy to do but..she was often a target because she often played a bad guy in movies and TV shows

College student!Aqua hoshino x GN!reader, who have been since their senior year of high school and the reader wants to take their relationship to the next level (soft smut)

Reader who has spastic diplegia-type cerebral palsy, being best friends with Ai and knowing her when she was still starting her career (Aqua, Ruby, Ai) (platonic)

With a crush who is a big fan of Ai and knows a lot about her songs and everything, but is also very smart and already suspects that she usually lies, but also likes that part of her (Ai, Aqua and Ruby)

Masculine! Reader who is used to having to take care of himself and the house alone and the only company he has are some stray cats (2 or 3) that visit him almost all the time (Aqua, Ruby, Akane, Kana)

Hcs for Aqua and Ruby with a crush who just like Ai

S/O who works as a voice actor and is very good, S/O can do many different voices of different tones (Ai, Aqua, Akane)

S/O who has a hobby of making cute puppets and has a name and a voice for each one and is constantly putting on little shows or being goofy with the puppets with his friends and the neighborhood kids (Ai, Aqua, Ruby, Akane)

Headcanon of Ai hoshino with a male S/O who was kinda still under anesthesia after a enamel tooth repair surgery and S/O didn't really recognise his wife (Ai hoshino) under a whack load of anesthetic and asked who the pretty woman was sitting by the bed..and Ai replied that she was his wife and S/O said something along the lines of that he couldn't believe how he has a beautiful angel as a wife and it was a dream come true.

Headcanons S/O who prefers rock music to idol music and is a street singer who performs in an underground music hall (Ruby, Aqua, Akane)

Headcanons with a pregnant s/o (Ai, Adult Ruby)

Headcanons S/O who like to draw (Ruby, Aqua, Akane)

Headcanons Aquamarine hoshino x reader fem pregnant

Headcanons of when Aqua and his female wife S/O were persuaded by their six year old daughter to take her on a boat ride called Monster Mansion.

Headcano Aqua was home alone for the first time with his four month old daughter and his wife (his S/O) was taken out by Ruby (Aqua's younger sister) for a break.

Headcanons for ideal date with your S/O (Aqua, Ruby, Ai, Akane)

Tsundere gn reader who wants to be seen as a successful image (Ruby, Akane, Kana)

Headcanons like Aqua, Ruby (children) knowing they are going to have a little brother and how they act with their mother Ai their husband S/O and the baby

Headcanons crush by a fem reader (Aqua)

Headcanos van wanneer 'n groep boelies spyt was dat hulle gespot het met Sophia the daughter of Aqua and his female S/O, die groep het haar geboelie omdat sy 'n ster in haar linkeroog gehad het

Aqua and Ruby learning that their father S/O (used to be in a band which is the equivalent of tally hall). And now, like teenagers and the internet, rediscovering the hidden gem that is the reader's band and the songs that are becoming popular.

Headcanons for Aqua and Ruby with s/o who is in a rap battle team

#oshi no ko x reader #oshi no ko masterlist #manga and anime

152 notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Steve and rockstar reader where they go to the grammys and she’s there when she wins her first Grammy for like new artist or something

Ooh, you're good. I had one of these planned in the OG series, but... it would fuck with the timeline too much to include it here. 👀 SO! Enjoy actor!steve's first trip to the Grammy's & rockstar!gf's second. W.C.: 3.3K Warnings! My blog is 18+, MDNI. Prosaic devotion, probably. General lack of knowledge of behind-the-scenes/Hollywood et al.

carving through the dark

🎶 Darling, we sacrificed we gave our time to something undefined / This phantom life sharpens like an image but it sharpens like a knife 🎶

Awards shows always felt awkward. Fancy gowns, famous faces, free alcohol, press line, and professional competition. Sure, it was nice to be recognized by your peers or the committee or whatever, but that didn’t mean the entire thing ceased to radiate mean girl energy.

At least it was the Grammy’s, something firmly in your wheelhouse where you wouldn’t be expected to make small-talk with a cinematographer and pretend like you actually knew what that entailed. That being said, there was the added pressure of performing and being nominated for a few awards that evening.

No biggie.

The last few shows had been a breeze, all you had to do was show up and look good: the film festival circuit beginning with Venice, the Emmys, the Kennedy Center Honors, the Golden Globes, etc. None of that had anything to do with you— it was all Steve Harrington.

So when your alarm rang on Saturday morning, you screwed your eyes shut and retreated beneath the covers. Despite knowing that Vickie was already awake and would be gently rapping at the bedroom door soon enough.

You heard Steve clear his throat, shifting the sheets as he turned to face you— all stupidly gorgeous bedhead and eyes squinting in the bright morning sun. His right hand flopped over and landed on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Good morning,” Vickie coos, once you’ve managed to swipe your phone off the night stand and onto the floor. She picked it up quietly, pausing the blaring alarm and set it back on the table.

Reluctantly, you sit up as the covers are peeled away from you, open your eyes and blink slowly. Game day.

Steve had long accepted now that Vickie would show up at the ass crack of dawn on days like these, coffee and breakfast in hand, before you were relegated to the makeup chair where you’d spend hours being poked and prodded to near perfection.

He had plenty to do today as well and Robin was expected shortly. You wouldn’t be surprised to find her puttering around downstairs finalizing his schedule.

Speaking of which—

“Want me to run through the day?”

You nod and reach for your matcha latte, taking a sip while Steve wraps an arm around to pull you back down to the pillows with him. He’s managed to find his glasses and get them on, so at least there’s some progress in the Harrington camp. There was a noise from the hallway, the bedroom door opened and Robin appeared.

“‘Sup nerds?” She greeted and deposited Steve’s protein shake on his nightstand.

“Ugh, still?” He grimaced, eyeing the green concoction warily.

“Yes, dingus, still.” Robin falls into a club chair by the windows and sips loudly from her frappucino. “Now, drink up, buttercup. Nolan wants you in tip-top shape.”

Steve rolls his eyes and begrudgingly takes a sip of the drink. Robin smiles, delighted, before turning back to Vickie with a wink.

“Right, as I was about to say,” she begins, a blush steadily creeping up her cheeks under Robin’s gaze. “Carpet starts at 3pm— you’re expected right at the end.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Your helpful suggestion of skipping the press line and carpet was quickly vetoed by pretty much everyone on the team due to the fact that you were a nominee.

“Your hair is 10am, make up at noon when you finish lunch. Drinks and everything in Bar Marmont with management and crew at 2pm–everyone has different departure times so time on the carpet is staggered. You and Steve are last.”

You nodded. It had been a stressful few weeks— Steve filming on location and you in rehearsals for tour. Not to mention the tabloids and rumor mill running rampant with ‘America’s Sweethearts on the Rocks?’ and ‘Cherry Spotted Solo - Is This the End for the Hollywood Power Couple?’

Steve would walk after the last call, a warning voice would come through speakers and that’s when he’d take his seat. Better to skip the carpet than get drug into the spotlight and inadvertently fuel a fire that neither of you started.

Robin sipped from her own coffee, sensing the hestiancy that hung in the room like the smog around LA. “It’ll be fine guys, piece of cake,” she tried to reassure. “Just focus on celebrating the banger of an album you’ve made!”

You nodded as Steve threw off the sheets to take a shower. He drops a kiss to your forehead and says, “Yeah, honey, the rest is just confetti,” before disappearing into the ensuite.

Knowing that no matter what happened or what the interviewers threw your way, you’d make it out alive and wake up to the same sky and the same guy beside you was a good reminder.

Which was what you repeated in your head when you followed behind him after your last interview, a security detail by your side, all the way by the lingering reporters, inside, past the bars, into the arena, and to the table.

The opening sequence was smooth and energizing, someone delivered drinks and you clinked your glass against his, a quick wink at you in the dark before he leaned and cracked a joke to Eddie at the table nearby.

The night unfolded like that, relatively peaceful and uneventful. That was until one of your categories was called. Steve’s hand gripped yours when your name echoed in the arena with the other nominees. Your eyes went a little wide when he stole a glance at you, the whole table laughed in an effort to ease the tension.

“And the Grammy goes to…” Jennifer Lopez deftly opens the red sealed envelope before glancing back up to the cameras with a smile. “Being Unknown, Cherry McGowan!”

Your head falls into your hands at the shock of it all, the entire table erupted in a cheer and toppling over chairs in their haste. Steve’s arm wraps around you, head tucked close to yours, lips grazing the crown of your head.

“You did it, baby!”

You nod, hands still covering your face so he has to pry them from you and dry your tears. Steve pulls you up, his smile beatific and eyes misty. Fisting your the full of your skirt, you nod to Hop and make your way up to the stage.

But not before a clumsy kiss that has Steve pulling you back for more. You hide your face in his shirt, laughing before you yank him back down, smothering his growing excitement with something better—enough to make him and you forget that everyone is watching.

“Later, hot stuff,” you promise with a wink and follow your producers and collaborators to the podium.

The rest of the night went by in a blur, including your performance of “Who We Are.” Despite Steve’s needling and unique methods of persuasion, you’d managed to remain tight-lipped about the song in question, knowing it was his favorite and with good reason.

You’d written it for him, after all.

Slipping backstage to change into your performance gear, getting micced up and fitted with your in-ears, you allowed yourself a moment to exhale. You weren’t expecting to win, too much of a fan of the other artists and albums to think you’d beat them out.

But here you were, two Grammy’s under your belt and being ushered on-stage to perform. A tech hands you the cherry-red Stratocaster Steve had gotten for your birthday last year, the same one you’d recorded the song with. The stage manager counts you down and cues your entrance.

The crowd cheers as the lights go up, drowning out the announcer echoing through the arena, and the opening piano chords earn a dull roar in anticipation as you approach the mic. You find Steve in the crowd easily, Eddie at his side— both proud and nursing celebratory bourbons.

And it’s the easiest thing in the world for your hands to cradle the mic and sing the first verse, directly to the man who’d inspired it and had been by your side through it all.

“What I had left here I just held it tight / So someone with your eyes might come in time / To hold me like water / Or Christ, hold me like a knife.”

To say he’s shocked is an understatement. Steve all but drops his drink when he realizes the significance of the song you’d selected to sing. When the drums and bass kick in, you maintain eye contact with him, throwing in a knowing smile.

The final single from your now Grammy award-winning album premiering on the biggest night in the music industry, not too shabby. Catching sight of Steve trying not to shed a tear was just a bonus, really.

Back at the table, comfortably buzzed after your performance, the night was coming to a close. Steve had somehow wrangled your legs into his lap under the table and was working on the sore muscles of your calves. Eddie had pulled up a chair on the opposite side, under the pretense of “toasting the belle of the ball.”

Trevor Noah appeared on-stage to present the final award of the evening. The announcer listed the nominees, cameras veering toward tables for the live broadcast. You subtly extricated yourself from Steve’s grasp, lamenting the loss of his warmth and touch. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, nerves fluttering in your stomach. The cameraman swung by for a close-up as your name was announced, you smiled politely before turning your attention back to the stage. A number of people had gathered behind Trevor on-stage, and you spotted a familiar face immediately.

“And the Grammy goes to,” Trevor intoned, pausing to open the envelope and glance behind him. He beelines for the older woman immediately, the realization crashing on you like a lightning bolt. “You can read it,” he says to your mother, her eyes scanning the envelope before her.

“C-Cherry McGowan,” she breathes out, followed by a roar from the audience.

The entire table is up on their feet, fists pumping, jumping for joy, high-fives all around. You’re barely able to process it all when Steve lifts you into his arms, coaxing your legs to settle around his hips and kisses you stupid.

Eddie’s wolf-whistle pierces through the spit slick haze you’ve found yourself in. Steve’s hand cradling the full of your thigh as he reluctantly sets you back to rights. He’s got lipstick smeared on his mouth, just like the Emmy’s, but won’t let you wipe it off.

“Don’t keep ‘em waiting,” he says, hustling you off to the stage. Your co-writers and Hopper meet you there, all wide smiles and murmured congratulations. Your mother is bouncing on the balls of her feet holding the Grammy, like she can’t believe it’s real. She tugs you close in a warm embrace as you kiss her cheek. Wiping at the corner of your mouth her thumb comes away tinged pink with lipstick. She murmurs her praises and hands you the award, shooing you to the mic at the center of the stage.

Walked up with no plan, head empty, so all you can say is, “Shit. Well, shit.” Your eyes flit to Steve batting Eddie away while the frontman of Corroded Coffin attempts to get the remnants of lipstick off your boyfriend’s face, with little to no success. You sigh, “I wouldn’t be here without my wonderful collaborators and team,” you say and rattle off their names. “I’ve been so inspired by the artists here this evening and I’m grateful for their friendship. And I think it’s important to remember, especially on nights like tonight, that there is no such thing as ‘best.’”

Eddie whoops and toasts you with a glass from the table. Steve is all smiles and eyes on you— you try not to lose it seeing him mouth ‘I love you.’

“I’d also like to thank my family and the fans for supporting me and loving me unconditionally as an artist and human being. I wouldn’t be here without you, and I love you very much.” You pause to clear your throat, coming to the end of your speech. “I’m so incredibly thankful and will share this award with the inspiration for this album,” you say, a little breathless when your eyes fall on him.

And Steve is shaking his head while Eddie claps him on the shoulder, his hands coming up to hide his face as a cameraman makes his way to the table.

“The entire experience of doing this with you has completely pierced my heart and pried me open.” The room falls to a hush around you, and it’s as if there’s no one there— just you and Steve. “Y’know, sometimes I look at you and can’t believe my luck; that you’re actually real and I get to call you mine,” you laugh, a choked wet thing and will yourself not to fall apart. “You are a stunning, gracious person, and all the rest is just confetti.”

The music swelled and you were ushered off-stage into the press room backstage, along with Hopper and your collaborators. A tech shoves a mic into your hand and kicks it off.

“First question we have is from the Associated Press, take it away.”

“Hi Cherry, and first of all congratulations. How’re you feeling?”

You squint against the bright lights, “Sorry, where are you?”

“To your right.”

You spy a slight woman standing in the press pool. “Gotcha, thanks. I’m, uh, a little overwhelmed to be honest.”

“Understandable, this is the cherry on top of a really successful year for you— a world tour, headlining Coachella, residencies in LA and New York. So, what’s next?”

You sputter a laugh, “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Hop scoffs behind you. “I think the real win for something like this,” you shake the heavy award in your hand, “Is being acknowledged and nominated amongst your peers.”

“Okay, our next question is from The Rolling Stone.”

A man takes the mic and stands somewhere in the center of the crowd. “Let me begin by saying, from all of us at Rolling Stone, a massive congratulations to you Cherry - what an accomplishment!”

Hop claps you on the back with a nod to the reporter, Rob Sheffield.

“Thanks Rob,” you say, ducking at the praise. “Always a pleasure to see you.”

He laughs, “Same to you.” A brief glance down to his notes before he begins, “So much of your music and process ends up pushing other artists and your audience into new places or things they may not have otherwise sought out on their own— Dante’s Inferno, for example, or the use of Irish, Gaeilge, in the lyrics for this album. How do you get to a place like that?”

You let out a low whistle, “Never one to pull punches, are you Rob?” The man in question simply shrugs and winks. “Right. Okay.” You take a deep breath and attempt to gather your thoughts. “I was fortunate to come of age when artists were consistently pushing the envelope— people like Sinead O’Connor, Bowie, Prince— they were the blueprint.” You foist the Grammy off to Hop, the weight of it finally getting to you. “And as far as incorporating a medieval poem and various piece of literature for this album, what can I say? It’s not reinventing the wheel to call upon some of the greatest storytelling in world— Dante literally shaped the modern perception of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. He shifted from writing horny love poetry about a woman he’d seen only twice, to creating a whole new type of poetic verse, celestial love, and elevating her to an impossible echelon. If that’s not devotion, I don’t know what is.”

The mic is passed around the room, a few questions dodged for the sake of privacy— can’t confirm what you don’t acknowledge, as your publicist always says. Steve and Eddie sneak their way in eventually, side-stage and a little more than sloshed, Steve’s tie is askew and Eddie’s blazer is nowhere to be found.

“Our final question comes from The New York Times.”

“Hey Cherry, congratulations my friend, truly well-deserved.”

The voice is familiar, feminine and matter of fact.

“Thanks Nance, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all.” She smiles from her spot in the crowd. “In your acceptance speech, you mentioned the inspiration for the album, and I don’t mean to pry, but you’re a notoriously private person. Why did you feel the need to address that?”

Not a softball question, but definitely something you could handle. Bless Nancy and her carefully strung together words.

“I, uh,” you clear your throat, suddenly nervous. “While I am a private person, which I think is an important facet of interpersonal relationships, regardless of status, I think it’s also crucial to acknowledge that something like this—” you gesture vaguely to your team and those around you, “Can’t be done alone. This is the first album I’ve had cowriters on, that I’ve had other people helping to compose and create the sound. I was an island for so long that I was blind to the fact that I was drowning.”

You hear a faint gasp from somewhere behind you.

“Look, the pandemic took so much from all of us, as a collective, and I wrote most of the songs during that time of isolation and loneliness. But there are songs that speak to the beauty of life and love, even if it ends up not working out in the end. There’s a sadness and a serenity in that.”

Nancy nods for you to continue, pen scribbling furiously.

“So my decision to acknowledge the community of artists and musicians who helped me along the way, as well as the inspiration for this album was my half-assed attempt as a love letter. Love,” you conclude, “Is the only thing that can make life not just bearable, but beautiful.” You take a breath, coming back to yourself, “I think that was an answer to your question? It was words,” you laugh, “A lot of words.”

“Wonderfully said,” Nancy says with a smile on her face. “Thanks for allowing us a peek of that journey.”

You smile and shoot her a wink, exiting stage left where Steve greets you away from the prying eyes of reporters and telephoto lenses. He pulls you close, hands anchoring at your hips, fingers scrambling for a slice of skin.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes, “Who do you think you are, wearing something like this?” He fists the full of the silk skirt, just where it hangs above your crystal-encrusted knees. The Paolo Sebastian team has been more than generous in dressing you for the evening. Black mesh dotted with crystals against your skin, a luscious black silk gown with a high-low bubble hem and tights to match.

Steve was kind of easy like that; the illusion of barely there fabrics, a flash of skin where it mattered most. His hand snakes its way to dig into the plush of your thighs, tender with the promise of something more.

“Oh, this old thing?” You drawl, “If you like this, just wait until you see what I’m wearing for the after-party.”

Eddie scoffs, “Please spare me,” he says, “Well, me and the rest of the press corps who can definitely see you if they lean a little to the left.”

Steve’s hand falls from your leg as he pulls you further down the corridor. “Car is outside, think you can do a quick change en route?” He pushes open one of the stage doors with his free hand, the other firmly grasped in yours.

You arch forward again, the cool night air a relief for your fevered skin, strain yourself to kiss his chin, grazing his throat on the way back down, needing him more urgently each passing minute. “I think I can manage,” you rasp, as the car comes into view, “But the question is, can you?”

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #modern!actor!steve #stranger things fanfiction

60 notes · View notes