#his singing is so so so beautiful in the verses though | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonchildstyles · 2 months ago

Text

fender

it's 1976, and harry is the biggest rockstar in the world and y/n never thought she would have the chance to meet her idol. especially not like this.

wordcount: 12k+

—————

(Y/N) swore she could feel every note from the blaring speakers in her veins, her bones rattling from the base. Her skin was heated, a sheen of sweat covering every exposed inch. Bodies were packed all around her, dancing and jumping, hands in the air just as hers were. The bar of the barricade pressed heavily against her stomach, holding her back with a cool punch through her clothing. She'd never been to a concert by herself before, but she was finding she didn't mind the fact she was on her own, her dancing much more inhibited with her voice beginning to crackle from the sheer pitch of the screams she was letting out.

Before her, up high on the stage with the bright lights cloaking his form, was her favorite rockstar.

Harry Styles.

In flared bell bottoms, and chest bare, he pranced across the stage, taking in every adoring eye trained on him. His trusted guitarist was shredding away on his neon orange Fender, taking care of the hard work so Harry could swagger about the stage with his microphone swinging in his hand. Sweat dripped down the blocks of his muscles, shimmering as if he had spread the glitter on his eyes over the rest of his body. His lips were curled in a lopsided smile, smug and cocky; he was more than aware of the fact that thousands had filled this arena just to see him.

Another upside to having made it to this show by herself, (Y/N) didn't feel all that silly when she screamed that much louder when he strided over to her side of the stage. Dimples dented the rockstar's cheeks as he took in the adoration being flung at him from all sides. He scanned through the crowd, taking in every set of sparkling eyes and no doubt spotting every beautiful face that was more than willing to do just about anything for him.

While this was the first time (Y/N) had the privilege of seeing Harry live (after having missed both his '73, and '75 tours, it seemed '76 was finally her year) it was no secret just how much love he liked to share with his fans. He never denied it in interviews and more than once photographs of women draped over him had come to light and landed on the front cover of tabloids, or anonymous sources sharing details of sordid nights in his bed. Whenever confronted with questions about those stories or who he was pictured with, he famously gave a dimpled smile and shrugged it of, saying something about how he fell in love easily and didn't shy away from the feeling.

She wondered what she saw when he looked out at the huddles of people looking up at him tonight—if he saw someone he could fall in love with for the night.

As the song continued on, it was time for his next verse though he didn't stray from this side of the stage. He brought the microphone to his lips, crooning his famous lyrics in perfect melody with the rest of his band. He put on a show where he stood as he sang a particularly suggestive line while trailing a hand down his bare stomach, hooking a finger into the waist of his pants to bring them down for a teasing peek of more skin before snapping back into place.

(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her lungs, immensely grateful for how close she'd made it to the stage. She wouldn't have been able to see the thatch of hair he revealed had she been any farther back. Screamed erupted around her, Harry seemingly liking the reaction so much he had to pull away from his microphone to let out a bubble of laughter. By the time he went back to doing his job, there was a particularly smug smile on his lips with matching dimples and amused eyes.

He continued to sing even as pairs of panties and lacy bras were thrown up to the stage, women screaming for his attention with their shirts pressed up to expose their chests. He weaved around the set up, playing with his bandmates to the excitement of his fans. He soaked it all in with exuberant confidence, shining under the stage lights and he put on his show. (Y/N) felt breathless as she sang along with him, her bones rattling as the pit danced around her, pushing her harder against the barricade at her stomach.

By the time the final lines of the song came around, he had made his way back to (Y/N)'s side of the stage. She and the fans around her danced and sang along, her voice scratching in the back of her throat as she gazed up at him. The tune ended in a flourish of drum beats, heavy and bone rattling through the arena.

Harry finished with phantom punches to the air in time with the drum beats just before the lights went down for a flickering moment. His chest was heaving by the time the lights came up once more, his band breaking to take sips of water, his guitarist changing out instruments for another, just as flashy, guitar. The spotlight was dead center on Harry, his eyes casting far out to the rest of the packed arena before him. (Y/N) went her mouth drop into a gape as she took in the man before her—no photograph able to do him justice.

"Everyone still doing good? Having fun?" his voice boomed through the speakers, gesticulating with his hands as if he could reach to the back stretches of the venue. The arena erupted once more, pitched screams calling for his attention. He let out a breathy laugh into the microphone. "I'd hope so," he crooned, "because I'm having a wonderful time. So many pretty faces—thank y'for coming to see me tonight."

He reveled under the cheers given to him, going quiet as he turned his gaze down, to the pit closest to him.

To where (Y/N) was standing right in front of him.

His eyes lingered over the rows behind her before coming closer, stopping a little too close for comfort.

(Y/N) didn't want to get too far ahead of herself, but was he looking at her?

"And what about right here?" he asked, bending down to one knee at the edge of the stage as if he wasn't close enough already, "Having fun?"

Those around her burst into screams, pressing behind her as if they could surge through her and get closer to the rockstar. Her vision was vignetted with all the reaching hands attempting to touch him, fingers outstretched. (Y/N)'s reaction was stuck in her chest, her body stunned into paralysis with sweaty hands tightening around the barricade bar.

His only acknowledgment of the rest of the world came in the form of a quirked lip while his eyes stayed fixed to one spot. The longer she blinked up at him, no reaction, his smile grew, a brow lifting.

Whatever view the rest of the venue was getting had another round of raucous reactions.

Finally mustering enough wherewithal, (Y/N) nodded her head, her mouth still in a small gape.

The quirk in his lips tilted that much more, a dimple settling in his cheek with a hint of the white of his teeth. "Yeah?"

Though inaudible compared to the ruckus around her, she nodded her head with a parroted, "Yeah."

His eyes lingered on her for a passing moment, the tip of his tongue peaking out to skim the blunt of his teeth. Around her, (Y/N) could feel the screams just as much as she heard them, the volume coasting over her skin and seeping through her pores.

"'M gonna make tonight the best night of your life, yeah?" he pressed, speaking directly to her though the world had their own view of the moment.

Another stunned wave touched (Y/N)'s bones, stuttering her lungs and knocking her breath askew. If she wasn't being delusional—something she couldn't be one hundred percent sure of—there was a chance Harry's eyes touched over the neckline of her top, following the line of her exposed skin.

She gave him a small nod.

He gave her another smile before rising to the full of his height once more, the stretch of his body on display. Waltzing over the stage, (Y/N) knew he was speaking, pointing out more in the crowd and doing what he did best by enchanting the masses and bending them to his will, though she didn't hear a word of it.

The trail of his gaze left behind a warmth like he had touched her with his own hands, enough pressure lingering on her skin even when another song started up.

Once the first verse of the song had played, (Y/N) felt her body come back to life slowly, the gravity of the moment beginning to turn into adrenaline. The man she had a hidden poster of had just made eye contact with her and told her he'd make her night special. Harry Styles had looked at her.

Thank god she showed up early tonight. This barricade was now holy ground as far as she was concerned.

Just as she began to sway along with the rest of the bodies around her, checking back into reality, the rockstar swaggered across the stage once more, taking his time to prowl before her.

He looked out in the crowd, reaching far back before trailing closer to where she stood just in front of him once more. He shuttered a single eye in a wink to her with a stanza of particularly suggestive lyrics dripping from his lips.

This time she couldn't help the scream that bellowed from her lungs, only spurred on by the grin on his face.

—————

"See? If you ask nicely, y'get what y'want, don't you?"

Harry's booming voice reawakened the arena. He was giving them the encore they had been begging him for once he exited the stage, the chants of his name being enough to have his band reenter with the rockstar himself following closely behind. (Y/N)'s heart thundered in her chest, cheers leaving her throat.

Mourning the end of the show could wait another ten minutes.

The opening notes of a new tune started, the shredding of the guitar screeching through the arena. (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of Harry as he pranced across the space, his jeans sitting low on his hips (at the right angle, she swore she saw a decidedly thick bulge at his crotch—more than just needing a readjustment).

(Y/N) only had a chance to hear the first few lines of the opening verse before a large man in all black came to block her view. If not for the fact she was currently—as promised—having the best night of her life, she would have thrown a fit. She instead attempted to crane her neck around this block and catch glimpses of Harry for the last few moments of the night.

"Sweetheart," he yelled against the bass coming from the speakers, "You're coming with me."

Blinking, (Y/N) forced her gaze to settle on this man. Just as she feared, he was looking right at her as he spoke.

Though she was largely unwilling to not pay attention to the concert of her life, she didn't think she had much of a choice in ignoring this man.

"Me?" she enunciated, pointing at herself if he wasn't able to hear her right.

"Yes, you," he said again, eyes trained on her, "Now. Before the end of the show."

Had she done something wrong? She couldn't imagine she was any more rowdy than the rest of the crowd (especially, as she still had all of her undergarments on and her nose clean), but she was the one being removed?

"Why?" she sputtered, anchoring to her spot.

The man's lips thinned, unimpressed with her pushback. "I've been asked to bring you backstage."

(Y/N) blanched at the new information. "By who?" she pressed, not entirely believing this moment.

The man sighed, his shoulders lifting. He caught her gaze, holding it as he jerked his head to gesture to the stage behind him.

Right where Harry Styles was prancing about, low slung jeans and all.

She blinked at him, flicking between his enlarged gaze to the rockstar at his back. "Really?"

"Yes," he insisted, "And I would like to take you now while we still have the space."

(Y/N) didn't immediately move, switching her eyes to Harry Styles, in all of his glistening glory. The curls on the top of his head were slick with sweat, but still managed to flop so handsomely over his features. His tattoos shuddered over his skin, animating with every belting note and roll of his body.

He had promised to make this the best night of her life, and she couldn't imagine any better way than to meet him backstage.

With the help of the man in black, she crossed the barricade with the eyes of those around her following closely behind. He led her carefully around the stage and through different equipment on quick feet, the music being left behind with the private backstage area before her.

Chancing a look over her shoulder, Harry, with his microphone cord coiled around his hand and sparkling eyes, winked at her once more.

—————

Sitting alone in what she figured was Harry's dressing room, (Y/N) could hear the final encore being played through the walls. While a part of her was itching to run back out, to catch those moments she had been looking forward to from the second she had bought her ticket, she was practically bolted to her spot.

All around her were small relics of the man out on that stage. An herbal candle sat with a pool of melted wax on the vanity table, anchoring down a blue cloth. Flecks of glitter seemed to stick to near every surface, leaving specks of light dotted across every surface, including the familiar container of makeup remover reflected in the mirror. A faded t-shirt was on the ground, next to a rumpled pair of athletic sweats. A bottle of cologne balanced on the edge, just a bump away from falling to the floor.

Her fingers fumbled in her lap, her heart puttering in her chest. She was backstage at a Harry Styles concert after being requested by the man himself. Knowing his discography well enough, every note that rocked through the walls acted like a ticking time clock, counting down to the moment she would no longer be alone in this dressing room.

Muffled through the arena, she heard the music crescendoing, heavy drumbeats and addicting guitar riffs ruffling the structure. Harry's voice played over the music, though it was clear he wasn't singing. Was he saying his goodbyes for the night?

The thought had her heart jumping into her throat, head going blank.

Should she stand up? Should she meet him up there? Would he like her outfit or was the cutout between her breasts too much? Oh god, what was she going to say?

Her pulse was kicked into overdrive when she heard a ruckus start up backstage, more voices piping up than she'd heard in the last ten minutes. Harry's voice had disappeared from the muffled tone he'd had on stage, making her pulse kick up that much more.

How close was he? Was anyone else going to come back here with him? Would he think her pants were stupid?

The long line of questions came to a halt the second the doorknob turned, the sound seemingly louder than the band playing the show out back on the stage. A muffled goodbye sounded on the other side before the first glimpse of the rockstar could be seen.

He was looking over his shoulder, speaking to someone she couldn't see around the broad strokes of his frame. His bare skin shimmered with sweat and glitter, animating his tattoos over the blocks of his muscles. The denim of his jeans were tight around his thighs though the waist still managed to fall some down his hips, showcasing a pair of leafy tattoos. He was saying something, a string of words that she missed completely over the roaring in her ears.

It felt like hours, watching him say his final goodbyes to whoever, before he finally turned around to face her.

Had her mouth already been dropped open, or was that just a side effect of seeing the green of his eyes up close?

"Hi," he smiled at her, moving towards his vanity table to retrieve the blue cloth held down under the candle, "How are you?"

Blinking, (Y/N) practically stumbled to her feet, her hands behind her back in a fumbling mess. "Hi. I'm good, thank you. How are you?"

A small smile touched his lips, "'M alright, thanks. 'M Harry."

It was (Y/N)'s turn to smile, a breath of laughter falling from her lips. "Oh, you're Harry! Got it," she attempted to joke, feeling one of the many strings tensing her shoulders being cut when he rewarded her with a bubbling laugh. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," he shared, a single curl flopping over his forehead as he ran the cloth over his face and down his neck, "'M happy y'made it back here—was worried y'weren't going to come after seeing y'talk to Paul."

"I was just a little confused," she explained, noting the way his eyes dropped to her lips as she spoke, "I couldn't believe you were actually asking for me."

"No?" he pressed, raising a brow with a quirk to his lips. He leant against the vanity counter, giving her all of his attention as if he wasn't shirtless with a sweaty chest staring at her. "And why is that, hm?"

Somehow, even without the amps and speakers booming throughout the venue, his voice held more impact in the quiet dressing room. The bass seemed heavier, his accent more drawling, the draw of his lips more alluring without a microphone in the way.

"Um," she started, blinking the stars out of her eyes, "Just... There was a lot going on out there—I didn't think you could even see me over the lights—or the bras."

Harry laughed, dimples popping into his cheeks with a light in his eyes. "Yeah, there was a lot out there tonight. Want anything before 's all cleaned up out there?"

He gestured out the door of his dressing room while (Y/N) shrugged. "Maybe. Was there anything pretty?"

The way he let his eyes drop heavily to her body, touching over the cutout on her top and the soft of her midriff exposed by the cropped fit almost made (Y/N) want to stumble back. When he dared to meet her eyes once more, he had a coy curl to his lips as if she hadn't been there as he dragged his eyes over her.

"I can think of a couple of things that might look pretty on you."

Despite the small laugh that puffed from her lips, her heart hammered in her chest. She hadn't wanted to get too far ahead of herself when she was first asked to meet him backstage, but it was hard to ignore the way he looked at her and still think this was nothing more than a friendly conversation.

"If there's anything you don't want, I'll take," she countered, hoping he couldn't hear the sound of her heartbeat with the way it was rushing through her ears.

The coy smile on his mouth turned into something more genuine then, amusement in his eyes. "Yeah? Y'saw anything y'think I need to take home?"

Even with the squeeze of her lungs, the nervous pit in her stomach, (Y/N) saw her own opportunity being dangled before her. She hoped she came off as nonchalant as she pictured as she shrugged, canting her head with a slight lick of her gaze down his chest. "I think you look good enough right now."

While there was still a lingering flush on his cheeks from the stage, the adrenaline clearly visible on his features, her words seemingly only fanned him hotter. The cloth he held was now dropped to the vanity, his empty hands coming to rest on the lip of the counter behind him. His arms flexed at his sides, veins popping out on his forearms.

"Good enough for what?" he pressed, a spark skittering through his eyes.

He hadn't shot her down. He was flirting back. Oh, god.

What would one of the women in the magazines say? How did they flirt with him so effortlessly to be invited for a fanciful—even if fleeting—night?

"You tell me," she countered, the only syllables that were able to squeak through her throat.

Dimples were deep in his cheeks by the time he turned around, collecting the bottle of makeup remover before pouring some on his cloth. He began wiping away the glitter as he found her eyes in the mirror.

"The band and I are going back to the hotel with a few friends—maybe party a little. Y'wanna come?"

Bubbling excitement like what she felt out on the arena floor reentered her stomach. A bright smile touched her features.

"I'd love to."

—————

"Pick your poison, darling."

(Y/N) didn't even know there were hotel rooms with fully stocked bars, but here was one right before her. A liquor tray behind the counter was decorated with plenty of bottles and decanters, more than half already missing gulps. Harry was acting as her bartender while the rest of the band and various guests were traipsing around the suite, the door to the hallway left wide open as they milled in and out. Music pumped through a set of stereo speakers, a member of Harry's band acting as DJ with various records and cassettes being switched in and out upon the players.

More than one familiar face swept through the suite, people she'd seen in the crowd of the arena tonight alongside those she'd met backstage. Some left the bathrooms with wide eyes and sniffling noses, others with hair bigger than when they had gone in and lipstick askew with a partner behind them. It was nowhere near the kind of party she had pictured when following after Harry, but she'd never been around rockstars before either.

Flitting her gaze over the various bottles surrounding Harry, (Y/N) canted her head. "Anything sweet."

Harry hummed, a slight quirk to his lips as he started fiddling about the different bottles. "Should've guessed, hm?"

"Why do you say that?"

Leaning on the bar, arms folded underneath her chest with her breasts pushed up, (Y/N) watched with her eyes lingering on his hands. All of his stage adornments, including his rings, had been left behind when he changed into something decidedly less ostentatious for this party, leaving the length of his fingers bare for her eyes to feast upon.

"Jus' had a feeling," he smiled at her, his eye falling into a wink.

(Y/N) watched with the same rapt attention she had given him on stage as he mixed her drink. He pulled bottles of clear liquor together with various juices, working in smooth movements as a brightly colored cocktail came together. Everything he did came off as fluid and practiced, the same kind of ease he offered to the stage with every note he belted and swagger of his hips.

"We jus' got here," Harry murmured, knocking her attention from his hands to his amused gaze, "Y'can't keep looking at me like that unless you're ready for our night to end."

Her breath caught in her throat. He'd told her earlier that this entire floor had been booked out for him and his band, but his room was at the very end. The biggest suite, he'd said—with a terrace and everything.

Would it be so bad to find out what his room looked like so early?

Attempting her best nonchalant facade, (Y/N) shrugged, a coy smile on her face. It was enough to make Harry laugh.

She could see him open his mouth to say something only to be cut off by a shout of his name from across the room. He whipped to face the call, the baby curls drying on the back of his neck giving a bounce at the motion. (Y/N) turned to follow his line of sight, seeing a semi-familiar face she had passed when backstage heading towards them with a beaming smile.

"I didn't know you were here! Took you forever to clean up, I thought you were spending the night at the venue," the man joked, pushing long dreads over his shoulder. His dark eyes danced over to (Y/N) for a fleeting second, his grin widening. "Is this your friend Mitch was telling me about?"

Rounding the bar with a fluorescent drink in his hand, Harry handed off the glass to (Y/N) (no ice, the crystal warm from his hand) before slinging his arm over her shoulder. She felt a shiver touch the bottom of her spine, though she used all of her effort to keep it pinned down.

Harry shrugged her closer to him, the side of her breast pushing against him through the thin material of her top. "Yeah, this is (Y/N). Met at the show—saw her pretty face right in the front row."

Harry's friend looked at her with raised brows, amusement laced in his eyes as he followed the length of Harry's arm around her shoulders. "Yeah? Liked the show?"

(Y/N) eagerly nodded, Harry's hold slipping from around her shoulders to be readjusted around her waist with a flex. She could feel his eyes on her face as he awaited her answer. "Loved it," she chirped, smiling with a cant to her head, "I've never seen him live before, so tonight was really amazing. I feel really lucky."

Maybe she was laying it on thick—she already made it backstage with his arm around her waist, she didn't have to catch his attention anymore—,but she liked seeing the dimples denting into his cheeks as he listened to her.

"I didn't know tonight was your first time," he mumbled to her, voice low as if they didn't have another person standing just in front of them, watching on with amused eyes.

"I'd feel lucky too if I were you," the man continued, his voice lilting in a tease, "Most of Harry's friends never make it past the dressing room."

"Alright, Jay," Harry cut in, voice louder than a moment before as he suddenly steered them towards the end of the conversation, "I'll see y'later. Thanks."

Jay only laughed it off, seemingly having achieved the reaction he wanted from Harry. (Y/N) didn't let herself linger on the motion of Harry's other friends—she knew she wasn't first and would most likely not be the last. Some of her wildest dreams had been reached just by meeting him, she could be happy with whatever she was granted tonight. Even if it was just that: one night.

"Sorry," Harry murmured, saving face as he guided (Y/N) away from Jay and towards the sitting area where most of the musicians were huddled together with drinks and records splayed across the coffee table. She ignored the faint lines of white scattered over the recognizable covers. "He likes to get on m'nerves, I think."

"It's alright," (Y/N) reassured, watching as Harry sunk into the one cushion left on the couch, "I thought it was funny."

Harry raised a brow at her, a sly smile on his lips, "'M sure y'did. C'mere darling."

He gestured her to his lap, opening his arms for her to plant herself on his thighs. Looking at him with his eyes trained upwards at her, sparkling and a bit lazy after putting on an energetic show, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. She had to make a point to see from tripping all over herself to take up his invitation.

There were eyes all around that watched as she took her spot on Harry's spread thighs, taking note of his arm wrapping around her middle to keep her steady. She had her own eyes down looking at her pretty drink as she hid the smile on her face. The cropped cut of her top allowed his palms to press against the bare skin of her waist, calluses roughening his touch from his years of playing different guitars. She was sure he could feel the line of goosebumps that rose in the wake of his touch, including the circuit his thumb started up around the waistline of her pants.

(Y/N) brought her head up when she heard the call of Harry's name from one of the many sitting around the coffee table. The guitarist—Mitch—had his head tilted, looking at Harry with a sly smile on his face.

"Mitchell?" Harry drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice as he pulsed a hand on (Y/N)'s waist.

"Are you going to introduce any of us to your friend?"

While Mitch and others in the circle didn't look particularly surprised to see someone on Harry's arm, it appeared Jay wasn't kidding with his comment about a rare few of Harry's friends making it past the dressing room.

"This is (Y/N), everyone," Harry relented, his voice low despite the music blasting just behind them. Nonetheless, everyone gave him rapt attention as if he had a microphone in his hand. "(Y/N), this is everyone."

"Hi, everyone," (Y/N) smiled, hoping she came off funnier than she sounded to herself, "Nice to meet you."

She could feel Harry laugh, his chest puffing from behind her. She took another sip of her drink, hiding her proud smile.

Conversation bubbled up then, some words slurred and slow while others were rambling at a rapid pace. (Y/N) sipped her drink as she took in the environment, listening in as if she were watching a movie. Harry's rumbling voice was an anchor at her back, his hand on her thigh keeping her attention as she tuned into his voice.

Behind her, he and Mitch were talking about the new customer Fender that was being made in Harry's honor. Perfect for the next album, she'd heard, the information brightening up her face.

"What are y'smiling about, hm? Something funny?" Harry's lips brushed the back of her ear, his voice drifting down the column of her neck. As he spoke he shifted his hand up to land on her waist, giving the curve a tickling squeeze. She jumped in his lap, holding her drink tight to her chest as she let out a gasping laugh.

"No," she smiled, turning to face him as he gazed up at her, "Just... New music? Already?"

"'M always working on something," he murmured, keeping his voice quiet as if conspiring with her on sensitive secrets.

Curling in his chest, (Y/N) could still hear the rivers of conversations flowing around them, eyes that landed on her as she cuddled up to a rockstar, but she kept her eyes on him. "Really? But you're on tour."

He shrugged around her. "There's always something to write about," he told her, eyes dragging down her face until he landed on her lips, "Something worth making a song about."

Her skin heated, feeling his gaze as if he touched her with his calloused fingers. Feeling his attention so heavily was like finishing her drink and standing on a rooftop over the city: exhilarating. How had anyone before her survived these kinds of moments—been bold enough to sit through them without taking down every second and memorializing it?

She wasn't sure what he saw in her face, but whatever it was had the corner of his lips turning upwards. A smug smile molded his features.

"What did I say about looking at me like that?" he murmured, his words teasing though the grip on her hip was far from.

Canting her head, she matched his gaze, his grip on her keeping her grounded. "I thought you liked it."

In that moment, his eyes seemingly darkened, pupil dilating. If not for the rest of the noise around them—the music and loud conversation—she wondered what his instincts would have urged him to do.

"I do," he crooned, shifting under her with his hand still on her hip.

The way he moved underneath her had her position adjusted on his lap, pushing the curve of her ass right against the middle of his thighs. A hard ridge pressed against her. Emphasizing his point exactly.

"Oh," she sighed, feeling breathless as if she were still flush against the barricade with an illuminated rockstar before her. It was that memory of him swaggering about the stage, picking her face out and singing the songs she'd listened to like gospel, that had a burst of confidence in her chest. That rockstar had picked her.

Keeping her eyes on his, she whispered, "Can I hear some of the new music? In your suite?"

She didn't have to elaborate any further, Harry catching on to the undercurrent to her words. A single dimple touched his cheek, his hand pulsing around her hip. "Let's go."

(Y/N) stood first off of his lap with Harry following after, reaching to take her hand in his.

"Leaving already?" Mitch piped up, his eyes dancing with amusement as Harry turned to face him.

"Gonna show her some of the stuff we've been working on," Harry drawled, nonchalant as he began inching towards the door, "Back in m'room."

"Coming back?"

Harry glanced at (Y/N) then, a silent communication that had her sheepishly smiling. "Probably not."

"Right," Mitch said, brows bouncing over his eyes, "See you in the morning."

Without much ceremony, Harry made their getaway for the night, leading her out into the hall. Stragglers were stationed around the ajar door, some with a lingering powder under their nose, others with hair messed up more than what (Y/N) was sure was intentional, matching the smudged makeup. Harry only gave them an acknowledging nod before heading down the corridor with her in tow.

It was a short walk to the door, though (Y/N) hoped to be able to recall every step down the hall, every beat of her heart against her ribs in the morning.

"After you," he crooned, opening the door with a flourish as he stood to the side.

She gave him a smiling nod as she crossed the threshold. The press of his gaze could be felt on her backside.

Flicking the lights on, a true suite was presented to her. She could only see the bedroom through a cracked door. The main living area, though much more put together compared to the room they'd just left, it was still clear a rockstar was crashing there. Random clothing was strewn about the space, open suitcases full of stage clothing as well as casual pieces. A heavy boombox with an array of tapes scattered around it was placed atop the television.

It wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought it would be, given the rumors of what rock stars got up to in hotel rooms, but she figured that was what the extra rooms were for. It wasn't much fun sleeping in a mess, especially when on stage every night with little sleep to boot.

"Didn't have time to clean up today, sorry," Harry said, closing the door behind them.

(Y/N) smiled over her shoulder at him, setting her cocktail on the counter of the kitchenette as she walked deeper into the suite. "Too busy?"

Dimples in his cheeks, he walked slowly as he followed her in. "A little bit."

Stepping around the mess, she found herself by the sound system, rifling through the cassettes he had around it. The plastic casing gleamed in the light, more than a handful scattered on the television stand. A few familiar, newer albums stood out.

Bowie, Station to Station. Queen, Day at the Races. Ramones' debut. Elton John, Blue Moves.

One empty case was beside the player, the cover flipped open with the tape missing. Flicking it back, the cover of ABBA's Arrival shone.

"ABBA?"

Behind her, Harry slipped an arm around her waist, looking over her shoulder. "What? Y'don't like disco?"

"I do," she laughed, turning around to face him, "Just didn't picture you as a dancing queen, that's all. You look a little bit older than seventeen."

Harry clasped his hands behind her back, his fingers pressing into the bare skin presented through the crop of her shirt. His features were softened as he matched her gaze, eyes hooded and heavy. "Does that disqualify me?"

"Probably." She wasn't sure when they started whispering, when his fingertips on her back began to creep under the hem of her top, but she melted into his touch with her own hands settling on his chest.

"Still like me?"

It should have been annoying to hear him speak this way. It wasn't hard to detect the cockiness—near arrogance—in his voice; he knew the answer before he'd even posed the question. It should have turned her off and had her taking her leave.

But, it only had the opposite effect. His confidence was a warmth hitting her stomach.

With him so close, their bodies flush, she didn't have to try very hard when she shifted her hips to feel the bulge in his pants pressing to the small of her stomach.

"Yeah," she answered simply, voice suddenly breathless.

Just as she expected, a smug smile had his lips curling. His hooded gaze traveled around her features, the tip of his tongue skimming the corner of his mouth.

"How much?"

This was the moment, she decided. There was no way she was in a rockstar's hotel room, after being plucked from the crowd at his request, feet away from his bedroom, and not going to take the opportunity that was being offered on a silver platter.

"I can show you."

That had to have been what he wanted to hear, given the fact he surged forward and sealed his lips to hers.

Unsurprisingly (not that she'd thought about it, or anything), his lips were soft, molding to the shape of her own glossed pair. He slotted his mouth to fit her top lip between the pillows of his two, the tip of his tongue slicking the seam. The smoky taste of the whisky he'd drunk back in the other suite lingered on his tongue, mixing with the sweet liquor of her own sips.

His hands on her back flattened out, leaving on her bare skin between the waist of her pants and the cropped hem of her top, with the other slipping underneath. His palm was aligned with the knobs of her spine, spanning between her shoulder blades under the thin material of her top.

Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss as he pulled her closer. The soft sound of their lips parting and meeting once more filled his hotel room, slick and messy. His tongue snaked out, sampling a taste of her own when she opened her mouth just enough for him. (Y/N)'s chest shuddered.

She was kissing Harry fucking Styles.

She hadn't kept a diary in years, but she was going to have to crack open a new one just to write out every detail of this moment. (Though, she might leave out the bit about how ABBA's Dancing Queen got them there).

"What are y'smiling about?"

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, hands traveling up his chest to follow the broad stretch of his shoulders.

He pulled away, keeping his body close to hers as he gazed down at her. His lips were glossed with their shared spit, his pupils blown. "You're smiling. What's funny, hm?"

His hand under her top shifted until he had his palm over her side, lining up with the ladder of her ribs. Goosebumps touched over her heated skin.

"Nothing," she murmured, her own hands moving until she had his cheeks cupped in her palms. "Just... This is crazy."

His eyes practically sparkled with the way she breathlessly spoke. Leaning close, he nudged his nose against hers, eyes slitted. "Yeah?"

Gone was the smile on her face as she listened to the same voice that had soundtracked her life for the last handful of years. All while he looked at her with kiss-swollen lips and hooded eyes, his hard cock pressing through the material of his pants.

"Yeah," she parroted, breathy with the word sweeping over his lips.

It was his turn to smile, surging forward to smear his lips against hers. It was a lingering press, just a bit clumsy with the way his nose knocked hers. She was expecting him to tip his head and deepen the kiss once more, only for him to pull away.

"I think I promised some new music, right, love?"

Blinking up at him through her lashes, in a second she was transported back to the other suite, where she had conjured up the story of sneaking to his room to hear new tracks. That felt like hours ago—like she had been a different person back then. Someone who had never kissed Harry Styles before, at least.

"Right," she smiled, playing along with the game he was proposing, "In your bedroom?"

A smile grew on his lips. "Of course. Where else?"

She let out a breathy laugh as she followed after him, hands twined together as they left behind the cassettes and strewn clothing for his darkened bedroom. Different from the rest of the suite, only lamps are left to light the room. Only a single standing lamp beside the rumpled bed was flicked on, leaving a small wash of light sitting on the messy sheets and the bedside table on the opposing side. The space holding a smokey sweet scent, matching the fragrance of his skin. A mess of unlabelled cassettes occupied the bedside table, with another more compact player off to the side.

Shooting her a lopsided smile, Harry led her to the side table. His hand still in hers, he rifled through the tapes with his free hand.

"What do y'want to listen to first?"

The blank bricks held no indication of what could be on them other than a silver sharpie marking them as demos with different numbers.

"This is your new music?" she murmured, eyes widening when she realized what she was looking at.

"Mhm," he hummed, the weight of his eyes hitting the line of her profile, "Wanna hear m'favorites?"

Looking at him through the fan of her lashes, she gave him a nod, pretending as if she wasn't as excited as she really was. She figured being giddy over a couple of tapes wasn't exactly a sexy look.

Deft fingers pulled out a tape marked as Demo #4 before setting it into the player. Through the speakers, the sound was crackly and quiet compared to the records of his voice she had in her bedroom. The guitar started first, the chords wavy and psychedelic, the guitarist letting the notes linger as if they were melting through the speakers.

Just as a familiar voice sounded over the notes, Harry pulled her flush to his chest with the help of the grip on her hand. His free hand cupped her cheek, his lips meeting hers in a clumsy mess. He fit her bottom lip between his two, immediately touching the tip of his tongue to the full center of her lip. (Y/N) didn't have to think before she had her mouth parted, letting him in once more.

Letting go of his hand, she curled her fingers into the material of his shirt, clinging to him. She hadn't been aware her nails could be felt through the thin fabric until a shuddering breath rocked his chest.

Walking her the short steps backwards, Harry blindly guided her to the edge of the bed. Her knees gave way to the mattress before she fell backwards, Harry following after with his hips fit between her thighs.

The chains of his necklace dangled over the base of her throat, a cool point of clarity against the rising warmth of her skin. His hands skated down her sides, grazing the bare skin presented from the cut of her top. Her hips fit against his like a puzzle piece, cradling as he pushed against her core with lingering rocks.

While his hands roamed over her form with their lips locked, (Y/N) took advantage of her position under him and locked a leg over his hip. Reaching up, she racked her fingers through his hair. The curls threaded around her fingers, a low rumble coming from his throat when she pulled just enough at the roots.

The bass of his moan came just as there was a peak to his voice playing through the cassette player. (Y/N) was reminded she was making out with a rockstar to his own unreleased music. Her hips rocked upwards at the thought.

Harry began to kiss down her chin, over her neck, and to the shelf of her collarbones while he fit the lengths of his fingers under the material of her top. Her bare skin sang for him, blood rushing through her veins.

His lips travelled down until he hit the neckline of her shirt. "Can I take this off?" he murmured into her skin, the words sinking into her pores.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, goosebumps rising when the tip of his nose brushed her neck. "Please."

She could feel the way he smiled at her response, the curl pressed into her skin before he bit at the line of her collarbone. Her grip in his hair tightened at the short sting, her leg curling that much more around his hip.

As promised, Harry, with his hands underneath her shirt, helped slide it over her head. Reluctantly, she pulled her hands from his hair and raised up from the bed long enough for him to slip it off her form and for the garment to become another piece of clothing puddled on the floor.

Without a bra, her breasts were exposed to the buttery light of the lamp. Her nipples peaked in the cool air, her chest rising and falling with each breath she pulled in. Harry didn't wait before he lowered his face to her breasts, smearing his lips over the swells. He scraped his teeth along the plush skin, leaving tender marks in his wake. Her hands once again found his hair, burying her fingers among the strands.

After a particularly harsh bite, she pulled his hair harshly. She could feel the sly smile that touched at his lips.

"Feeling good, baby? Like it when I bite you?"

She gave a clumsy nod of her head, mouth opened in a soundless nod. With her hands in his hair, she pulled him to her nipple, wanting the sting of his bite on the tender bud.

He didn't immediately give in, only pecking a soft kiss to the peak before looking up at her through the frame of his lashes. "Want me rough? Like it like that?"

Mindlessly nodding, she keened at the rumbling of his voice. "I like it rough," she bubbled, speaking over the unedited melodies of his voice.

Instead of responding, Harry gave her what she wanted, his teeth scraping over her nipple. With her hands still in his hair, she gripped the strands at the roots, her back bowing into his lips. Her lips parted with a breathy moan.

Harry took care of her, his mouth skating over her breasts. His teeth left tender spots—some she almost wanted to leave bruises—with his tongue following in the way, soothing the marks. Her stomach tightened with every wet press of his mouth, his hands sliding down to her hips. He played with the waist of her bottoms, his kiss following slowly after as he trailed down the soft of her stomach. The tip of his nose skimmed her skin, a tickling feeling rising in her chest that had a burst of laughter bubbling out.

With his lips still attached to her, he peered up at her through his lashes. A slow smile stretched his lips, the curl pressing into her skin.

"You're always laughing, baby," he murmured, "What is it this time, hm?"

"Tickles," she laughed, the melody floating over the next track playing off of Demo #4.

A plume of his own rumbling laughter grazed her stomach, goosebumps raising on her skin. Cushioned by the messy, tobacco scented sheets, (Y/N) watched with laughter edging on her lips as he nuzzled into her stomach. He made a show of hitting the waist of her pants with his fingers hooked into the band.

From between her thighs, he looked up at her with hooded eyes. "Gonna take these off, baby. 'S that alright?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. With his hair out of reach of her hands, she propped herself up on her elbows to watch as he worked, fingers curling into the sheets.

With deft hands, Harry made quick work of the garment. It didn't take long before her pants and boots were on the ground beside her discarded top, leaving (Y/N) in nothing more than a pair of string panties.

(It was done as a joke almost, when she was getting ready, to pick panties as if she was going to be showing off for someone after the show. She'd never been more grateful for that delusional choice).

Harry was still fully clothed as he took his place once more between her legs, laying the broad of his body flush to hers. Her breasts were pressed into the solid blocks of muscle of his chest, only the thin material of his top separating her skin from his. He sealed his lips to hers once more, getting a taste of her tongue against his in broad strokes.

It was her turn to start stripping him, keeping her mouth to his as she plucked at the neckline of his shirt.

He pulled away with a breath, lips spit-slicked and kiss-swollen. He looked all too satisfied with himself as he gazed down at her, pulling off his shirt. Throwing it somewhere in the room, (Y/N) didn't have a chance to catch the landing before he was crowding around her once more.

"Trying to get me naked?" he murmured, a teasing thread through his tone, "Think 'm that easy, love?"

"I'm hoping," she smiled, pecking a messy kiss to the corner of his mouth. She could taste the smear of her lipstick on his skin.

Chasing after her mouth, he trailed his lips over her cheek, following the line of her cheekbone. Whispering to her, lips brushing her ear, he said, "Y'want me, baby? Tell me."

Between the press of his covered cock against her pussy, the rumble of his voice through her chest and against the shell of his ear, her eyes fluttered to a close. Her mouth was dropped in a gape, her breathing stilted.

"I want you," she said, suddenly breathless, "I-I've thought about this before."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Yeah? What've y'thought about, baby?"

"Yeah," she repeated dazedly, sucking in a harsh gasp when ground down hard between her legs. "I—um—I wondered if all the stories were true. If-if you are really like how everyone says."

"Is that why y'dressed like this tonight? Hoping you'd find out for yourself?"

She didn't want to melt over how cocky he was, how sure of himself over assuming she had dressed with him in mind. But, he was right—she wanted him to at least see her, remember her if she was lucky enough. Only in her wildest dreams did she imagine her cutout crop top and tight pants would land her here.

With her eyes still closed, she nodded her head. "I wanted to know if your songs were true."

"Which ones?"

"The ones," she stalled when she felt his hand slip between their bodies, tickling over soft curves of her body until he reached the apex of her thighs. "Um—the ones about... You sing a lot about eating pussy."

His laugh was warm, bubbling over her. "I do, don't I?"

"Almost two albums worth," she teased, a lighthearted tone running under her words before she was cut off.

Between her legs, he made no ceremony of the way he pulled her panties to the side and dragged his fingers through her folds. It wasn't until he split her open that she realized just how wet she'd become. Slick noises from between her legs filled the bedrooms, two of Harry's fingers slipping through her slit in long strokes, prodding at her weeping hole and nudging her clit, in a smooth circuit.

"What did y'think about when you'd hear those songs?" Harry asked as if she had any mind left to comprehend anything but his touch.

Squeezing her eyes shut when he circled her clit in a teasing touch, she dug her nails into the strapping muscles of his biceps. Under her hands she could feel the way the hand between her legs had his arm flexing with every movement.

"Huh?"

Through a smile he pressed a messy kiss to the space before her ear. "What did y'think about when y'had your fingers in your pussy?"

The blunt wording had her insides tightening, a squeeze she was sure he could feel as he brushed over her opening.

"How did I fuck you in your pretty head, hm? Tell me, baby."

Her mouth had a mind of its own as she started blabbering off without a thought. "Hard—You'd fuck me hard. I-I'd let you do anything to me, daddy."

His hand between her legs lagged, lingering close to her clit but not close enough. "What was that?"

"What?" she mumbled, turning her head in hopes of catching him in a kiss.

Harry pulled away, just out of reach though he kept his hooded eyes on hers. "What did y'jus' say?"

Blinking at his question, she attempted to cast her mind back enough to catch any memory of what she said. It dawned on her slowly, the kind of word she let slip from her imagination and into the real world.

"Um," she floundered, skin flushing in a different way than just a heartbeat before.

His smile grew, lopsided and entertained over her tied tongue. Leaning over her, he nudged his nose against hers, the full of his lips just barely brushing over hers.

"Y'called me daddy."

(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Her hands tightened around his biceps.

"Say it again, baby."

Her mouth dropped into a gape. He wanted her to say it again?

"What?"

"Say it again," he murmured, his voice melding with the crackly tape soundtracking this moment, "'S alright—I know y'want to."

How was she supposed to say no to that?

Hyperaware of the way her voice wrapped around the word, she hoped it would be just as intriguing to him this second time.

"Daddy."

A rumbling moan left his chest just before he dove down, slotting his lips against hers in a messy kiss. Between her legs, he didn't hesitate before he slipped his fingers inside. The length of the digits were fit snug inside, opening her up as he gave a few cursory thrusts through. She could barely even kiss him back, her face screwing up in pleasure at the jolting touch with her lips parting. Harry slipped his tongue inside, licking over her own as he stroked his fingers through her pulsing walls.

Her breathing completely stalled when he curled his fingers, the calloused pads pressing into the spongy spot hidden among her walls. There were only a few times when she'd had the patience to find the spot herself, her memories of the sensation paling in comparison to what was happening to her now. Instinctively, she wanted to close her thighs, keep his hand from moving anywhere away from her. Harry's free hand came down and cupped the soft inside of her thigh, and splayed her legs open wide for him.

"Again," he ordered, the command falling on her tongue.

It didn't take a single thought before she was falling to his instruction. "Daddy—fuck."

"Feel good, baby?" he crooned, breathy and heated against her mouth.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she whined.

"I bet it does," he teased, "Can barely keep still for me, huh? For daddy?"

Her stomach wound itself tight at the sound of his accent, the same voice she'd listened to through her headphones and the crackles of her record player, wrapped around the title. This was what her fantasies were made of.

"Liked that?" he drawled, a sly smile working onto her lips, "Could feel how much y'liked that. Is this what y'thought about when you'd fuck yourself, baby?"

Rocking her hips up into his hand, he never lagged on circling the spongy wall inside her, only breaking when he opted to thrust deep inside to keep her on edge. His palm was pressed headily against her clit, the heel smeared heavily over it with every lingering stroke through her insides.

"Al-always you," she breathlessly admitted, "Always wanted you there with me."

"I know, baby. Y'need me, huh?"

"Yes, daddy," she panted, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Dropping his forehead to rest on the apple of her cheek, she felt Harry's own heavy breaths sweeping over her heated skin. "You're gonna come for me, baby. I want y'to come on m'fingers, then 'm gonna fuck you like y'want."

He didn't give her any room to respond as he kept his palm heavy on her clit and drilled the pads of his fingers to the sensitive spot inside her. He didn't relent, her senses becoming overwhelmed with nothing but him. Even the sheets smelled of him, there was nowhere she could turn without finding more of him to pull in.

Her toes curled as she allowed herself to sink into the pleasure brewing in her stomach, her nails digging into the flesh of his biceps. She could feel her insides tightening, ribboning together in a contracting bow. (Y/N) wasn't even sure if her lungs were working around the pounding of her heart, her breathing shallow.

Suddenly, the pleasure she was feeling and floating in was too much. Her muscles were bunched almost too tight, snug around his fingers and sucking him in as if there were more to be taken.

Letting go of his arm, she reached for his wrist for an anchor. "I—Wa—Harry, I—"

"I know, baby, I know," he breathed, shifting until he caught her swollen lips in a kiss, "You're gonna squirt f'me, yeah? Make a mess with me."

"I—I've never—I can't—"

"You can. You can and you will, baby. Squirt for daddy."

The culmination of the way he talked to her—the rockstar she'd admired for years—the weight of his body pinning her to the mattress, the sound of his unreleased music filtering through the heated room, and every stroke of his fingers through her pulsing walls had her giving way to his command.

(Y/N) swore every bit of her body bunched, her hand tight around the bones of his wrist, toes curls, and eyes squeezed shut. Harry never relented, working her through the heaviest weight in her stomach. In a heartbeat, everything her body was squeezing, holding inside herself, let go.

A gush came from between her legs, rushing out around the plug of his fingers in her pussy. Every shallow motion of his hand against her went from slick to completely wet sounding, every beat of his fingers coaxing another rush of cum from her.

With her mouth dropped in a wordless gape, (Y/N) felt Harry's eyes on her with the way her skin buzzed, hyperaware. Her mind was cast elsewhere, miles away with her body anchored right where she was underneath him. She wasn't sure when she would come back—if she even wanted to with the way the feeling washed over each of her nerve endings.

"Look at that," he murmured in awe, his voice finally sounding like more than a rumble through the rushing heartbeat in her ears. "Jus' like I asked. So good, baby. So good f'me."

The descent was slow, the aftershock of her orgasm lingering in her bones until it finally relented enough for her to crack her eyes open. Harry looked down at her, satisfied with dark eyes trained on her features. With a jolting touch to her clit, he pulled his hand out from her pulsing walls, leaving her swollen and sensitive between her thighs.

She could feel the inside of her thighs slick with her release, Harry's hand that landed on her hip just as sticky. Dipping his head down, he caught her in a languid kiss, nose nudging the bridge of hers. He was a bit too proud of himself, she thought, a dazed smile touching her lips.

"Told you, y'could," he mumbled into her kiss, "Gotta listen to me more, hm?"

"Maybe next time," she sighed, too out of it to try too hard to play along.

"Maybe, next time," he repeated, letting out a plume of laughter for the both of them. Letting go of her hip, she could feel Harry fiddling with the waist of his pants, fingertips brushing against her sensitive core. "Ready f'me to fuck you?

Her lashes fluttered in a blink, remembering his promise of giving her more tonight. Peering down at where his hands pushed down the band of his pants, she watched as his cock bobbed against his toned stomach. It was flushed red, head ruddy and slick with a vein vining along the shaft. A pearl of precum clung to the blocked muscles of his abs, where the length hit high under his navel.

Just the sight of his hard cock had her stomach twining once more. Truthfully, she wouldn't have imagined anything less—not with the way he carried himself.

"Baby," Harry sang, grabbing her attention, "Are y'ready? Gotta say it—tell me y'want me."

Whatever he saw on her face was enough to have a dimple denting his cheek, more than satisfied with the desire in her eyes. "I want you," she said, despite the quivering muscles in her thighs, "Please, daddy."

His features shifted at her words, darkening as his eyes dragged heavily over her body. The way he looked at her was enough to have goosebumps on her skin, lungs squeezing.

"Think 'm gonna fit?" he crooned, fisting his length as he dragged the crown through her slit.

Before she could answer, he laid his cock against the small of her stomach, lining it up to show just how far inside he would reach once sinking in. His balls pressed against her clit, setting a jolt up her spine. She could feel him throbbing, matching the rhythm of her heart.

"We-We'll make it fit."

His laugh was melodious, lighthearted amongst the atmosphere cultivated between them. He cut himself off when he reared his hips back and nudged the head of his cock against her opening, a soft wet noise slicking through the room. Nothing seemed to be too funny, then.

Reaching for the wrist to the hand keeping her thighs spread, (Y/N) anchored herself to him with the grip. She felt her walls split open as he pushed through, the flare of his head nudging through the squeezing pulses. A lingering whine sung from her throat, breathless and pitched.

Harry seemingly held his breath as he bottomed out inside her, his base smearing against her clit. He reached the farthest parts of her, crowding in her stomach. A whine of his name fell from her lips, her head falling back into the mattress with her eyes falling closed.

Falling over her, Harry rested his forehead on the shelf of her collarbones, a heavy breath fanning across her heated skin. The press of his body atop hers was a comforting weight, keeping her wriggling form steady among the sheets.

A whispered curse was felt against her skin just before Harry reared his hips back. The slide of his cock through her walls gave a pleasant burn, reminding her just how far she was stretching to fit him in. The slick of her gushing orgasm was more than enough to help him through the pulsing, wet noises sodding from where their bodies joined.

Just as she adjusted to the slide of his length, Harry thrusted forward once more, keeping her stretched around him. He curated a rhythm, spearing through her in lingering draws. The breath was knocked out of her everytime, matching the heavy breaths Harry panted.

"So wet for me, baby," he murmured, voice strained, "Fuck—Gonna make y'squirt for me again, yeah? Gonna do it again for daddy?"

A loud moan filtered from her, reverberating through her chest with her head thrown back. This wasn't going to take long, she was sure. She was already twisted up inside, incredibly sensitive given the kind of pleasure he'd given her just minutes before. Every time he pulled out, leaving just his tip inside, the ridge ground against the spongy spot hidden between her walls. As soon as he sank inside, her clit was pressed against his base. Each touch stole her breath, lungs stilted.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she frantically agreed, "I—I'm so close—fuck."

"I know y'are," he crooned, teeth gritted, "'M gonna—Where do y'want me, baby?

Her answer was immediate, a breathy moan, "My tits."

She could feel the way he twitched inside her, nudging hard against her snug walls. "I can do that for you, baby. Is thi-this what you've thought about—what y'wanted when y'came to m'show tonight?"

Reaching up and looping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close once more, their mouths resting against one another though there was no energy to be had to turn it into a kiss. "You made me so wet during the show," she admitted, the words sweeping across his mouth, "I wanted you to fuck me so bad."

His hips bucked harshly against her own. "As soon as I saw you," he started, his voice graveled, "I knew I was taking y'home tonight."

He caught her in a kiss, messy and off-centered. He plucked his teeth against her bottom lip, the sting running down her spine in a clarifying jolt. She wrapped her legs around his hips, ankles crossing behind his back as he kept her close, disrupting his rhythm. Her toes curled as his thrusts turned into lingering rolls against her, shooting his head deeper.

This time, the growing spiral in her stomach came on quickly. The knot she was now familiar with built quickly, heavy and tight with every grind of his base against her clit. It was all too much, enough to have her crying into his mouth.

"Squirt for me, baby," he murmured, coaxing her closer to the edge with every rumble of his voice, "Show daddy how much y'want me."

She didn't have to think—unable to think—her orgasm came rushing. Though it wasn't quite as messy as the first time, she could still feel the gush between her legs, fighting against the plug of his cock. It was hard and fast, knocking the breath out of her to leave her mouth dropped in a silent gape.

It wasn't until she was beginning to see the other side that she heard Harry's voice, a string of curses, coming out through gritted teeth, could be heard. She was still high in the clouds when he pulled out, shifting up to his knees on the bed until he was hovering above her. Cracking her eyes open, she could see the same wild look in his eyes that she was sure was in hers, dazed and out of this world.

Fisting his length, his hand squelched along his shaft for only a handful of pumps until his cum gushed over her. Just as she asked, the ropes landed across her chest. Her skin was already heated enough, but the trails he left over her breasts were that much more. The sight of him working his own cock was enough to have her breathless once more, though her body was too sensitive to feel anything but a jolt through her nerve endings.

Harry with his head thrown back, moaned out her name and strings of curses. Even these moments sounded like notes, perfect for setting to music.

Once the world came back into focus, (Y/N) could feel cum drying on her chest, her own wetness sticking to the inside of her thighs. Harry dropped to the mattress beside her, chest heaving and flushed. His eyes were closed though his head was turned to face her, raspberry lips swollen and parted.

With the limited light from the lamp, he was bathed in buttery warmth. His chest sparkled with a sheen of sweat, droplets having run between the blocks of muscle underneath the inked lines of his tattoos.

He took his time joining her back in this moment, his eyes shuttered closed as he ran her eyes over his features. If she had a camera with her, she would have had to take a shot of this—the moment pretty enough to end up as an album cover. The haze in her head did little to stop her from reaching out and tracing her fingertips over his face, just barely grazing her skin in glancing touches.

A blooming smile made its way onto his lips, dimples denting his cheeks.

"C'mere," he murmured, voice graveled and rocky.

Despite the drying cum on her skin, Harry welcomed her into his arms, settling her against his chest. Holding her close, he nosed at the top of her head, uncaring about the sweat entwined in the strands of her hair.

(Y/N) practically melted into his hold. She hadn't expected cuddling was a part of the package tonight.

Her body grew heavy in his hold, the night's events catching up to her. Even without everything happening in this hotel—from the party to being invited into his suite—she had also been to a concert tonight, flush to the barricade. Her body was spent, even if her head pinged with reminders of just who had made it that way.

It wasn't until the crackling stopped that she realized that the tape finally ended, needing to be replaced or turned to the other side. She couldn't even be bummed that she missed out on these unreleased tracks. She'd hear them again someday, probably. She wouldn't have this night again.

She wasn't sure how long they laid with one another, cuddled and messy, before Harry's voice poked through the silence.

"What are y'doing this summer?"

A plume of laughter left her lips. Now was the time for small talk?

"I don't know," she smiled, "Why?"

Playing with the ends of her hair, Harry's tone was casual as he spoke, "Well, m'next show is this Saturday. Y'coming with me?"

Her heart lagged.

"What?"

It was his turn to let out a breathy laugh. "I want y'to come with me, love. We could do this every night for as long as y'want."

Before she could think better of it, another question blurted from her lips. "Why?"

Harry paused. "Y'make me laugh—and cum faster than I should, but don't tell anyone that."

In the dark of his suite, clothes puddled on the floor and bodies sticky, (Y/N) couldn't wait to pick up a diary just to write out how they laughed together.

"You're that easy?"

"I suppose I am, love."

—————

its been a super long time since I wrote something with the plain intent of writing smut so I hope this turned out well shufshfuhs thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or requests!

1K notes · View notes

zepskies · 6 months ago

Text

Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied.

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest.

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out.

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go.

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism.

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting.

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile.

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.”

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own.

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given.

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool.

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room.

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him.

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through.

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door.

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said.

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.)

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already.

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night.

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness.

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family.

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before.

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public.

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door.

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled.

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag.

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile.

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool.

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said.

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool.

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks.

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow.

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said.

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand.

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you.

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about.

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.”

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man.

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear.

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding.

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage.

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention.

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt.

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.”

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off.

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck.

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear.

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm.

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family.

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm.

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go.

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth.

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms.

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him.

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning.

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed.

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing.

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment.

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile.

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours.

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry.

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked.

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you.

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand.

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.”

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said.

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head.

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself.

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said.

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled.

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement.

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind.

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly.

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while.

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche.

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind.

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked.

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks.

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him.

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast.

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex.

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now.

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead.

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water.

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts.

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was.

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand.

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body.

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit.

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone.

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him.

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls.

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss.

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked.

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever.

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants.

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss.

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light.

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow.

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone.

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job.

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started.

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

Want to read this in podfic form? (Note: A "podcast" fic is a narrated version by my lovely friend Sandra, one of the hosts of the Idling in the Impala SPN podcast.)

🎙️ Listen to the episode by clicking the thumbnail below:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Smoke Eater Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt

@lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

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dcmainlybillythoughts · 2 years ago

Note

Consider if you will: Billy gets hit by some spell that sort of shows the gods who are in his head All the Time. Not exactly though, mote like misty gray human shapped blobs. Like someone took the Smooth tool in photo shop to them to erase all the details and faces. They still have different body shapes, postures, and voices though. Everyone can see all seven- wait seven?

Everyone there, especially those who don't normally have bodies of their own are Very excited to be there with Sort Of Bodies. Mercury immediately jumped on the table and started to sing while doing the Freestyle Dance Teacher dance. Atlas and Zues are brawling in the back and Hercules cheers. Achilles talking to Billy who is Not Responding while trying to figure out how to copy the dances Mercury is doing on the table. Solomon is simply giving some long winded lecture that Billy is already tuning out as he introduces each of his patrons to his coworkers and says, "and yes. They are always Like This. 24/7. Actually I'm surprised Hercules isn't trying to over power Mercury's singing with his own."

Hal points to the 7th and final figure who is yet to be introduced, A very small and skinny figure tucked between Marvel's cape and his legs, face to blurred and smooth to know but clearly glaring and body language frightening, and asks who this one is and what power they give. Thinking fast and maybe with a touch of help from Solomon sending a bit of extra power, Marvel says, "oh this? He's shy and doesn't like his name being given out. And he may not be the strongest or the bravest or the fastest, but he is undoubtedly one of the most important blessings I have. The Heart and Mind of a child. He keeps me honest and nags me about doing the right thing simply because it's The Right Thing. He also reminds me of the beauty and wonder in the world in small and simple ways. Like the time he got so excited about finding a 5 leaf clover that he made me preserve it and keep it in my pocket because the 5th leaf *clearly* means it's *extra* lucky. Or he'll point out things like how pretty the sun set is or how nice ice cream is on a hot day and just. All the little things that remind me of why I fight in the first place. He's a good kid, even if he didn't get to be a kid for very long." Billy feels a bit awkward patting his own(?) Head but he's got to sell the illusion.

Everyone is awwing almost enough to not notice when Murcury starts singing "FROM THE WINDOW, TO THE WALL!" And gets the the shit smacked our of him by Achilles before he can finish the next verse.

This is so cute. Imagine that when Cap was introducing Billy he put emphasis on his job by telling them "He is the only difference between me and Black Adam" because that is why Shazam picked him.

Also I am living for the chaos the gods are bringing to the table, or on the table if you're Mercury.

#billy batson #shazam #captain marvel #dc #dc captain marvel #does this count as divine Twitch Chat au #divine twitch chat #justice league #love this ask anon

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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 months ago

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♡ OT8 Stray Kids Showing You They Love You ♡

♡ Just some ot8!stray kids showing their chubby!fem!gf how much they love her and what some of those things might be.

♡ The biggest of thank yous to @tryingtolivelifeblog for requesting this. It's such an adorable idea. I just love it to pieces and hope you do too!

♡ Genre: fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.4k-ish

♡ Bang Chan ♡

It isn’t unusual for your boyfriend to be up on his laptop all night, headphones in, chipping away at the next track for his group. That’s what you’ve assumed has been happening these past few weeks but you couldn’t be more wrong. He has been working on a song but it’s for you and only you. It’s much softer than what he’s usually known for with instrumentals that feel like a warm blanket on a cold night. You can feel his vulnerability in every word he sings. So much that you can’t even question if he really means it when he says that your gentle heart makes him fall for you more and more each day. Or that the sweetness of your voice brings calm to the chaos in his brain. He dedicates an entire verse to the brightness of your smile and how your laughter’s his favorite sound. By the end of it you’re trying not to cry which is fine because he is too.

♡ Changbin ♡

You have no clue how much self control it took for Changbin not to buy out the entire Build-A-Bear store getting those cute little teddy bears that say phrases when you hug them. It would’ve been easy for him to send someone else to get them for him but he does it himself instead, pretending to be at the gym while he picks out the perfect dozen for you. Once everything’s perfect he leaves them around the apartment for you to find with notes that say “Hug Me”. When you do you hear your favorite voice telling you that your eyes are so beautiful and brimming with love that he could stare back into them all day. He loves how you see him, really see him, for who he is and he never has to hide behind a mask with you. You’re his #1 cheerleader, always reminding him he’s good enough when he doubts himself. There isn’t a safer place in the world for than with you and he'll spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to be the same for you.

♡ Hannie ♡

With your boyfriend’s hectic schedule, it’s important to him that he makes time to have special moments just for the two of you. This includes game nights which he takes very seriously, going all out to make sure the atmosphere’s ultra romantic and you have all of your favorite snacks. When you settle in for your latest game night you’re clueless when he presents you with an already built tower of blocks with hearts on the exterior of each piece. As the game begins you realize that each block you pull out has a reason he loves you handwritten on it. All 54 blocks. His hand cramped up 1,000 times doing it but it was worth it for you to know that spending an eternity cuddled up to your soft body would be the sweetest fate imaginable. That he never dreams better than when you’re there beside him, fingers running through his hair, singing him to sleep. That, even though it hurts sometimes, you make him miss you more than he has anyone else.

♡ Hyunjin ♡

Hyunjin’s never told you this before but he knew that you were the one since the day you first met. There was simply no way he was going to let someone as special as you get away. In the year since then he’s been drawing pictures of you in his sketchbook during moments when he’s feeling particularly sentimental. You’re always too respectful of his artistic process to peek at his work unless he asks so you don’t know until he shows you that he has such gorgeously vivid drawings of you making breakfast for him in the wee hours of the morning before he has to catch a flight. A few pages in there’s another of you playing with kids at the park when they needed one more person for a game. The last page is you sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, waiting to comfort him after an appearance he’d been dreading. The way you’re so thoughtful, lovely, and kind live in those moments he never wants to forget.

♡ Felix ♡

“Felix, I think there’s…paper in this cupcake?” When Felix surprises you with cupcakes at work and sees you bite into the first one it dawns on him that he probably should’ve considered that maybe cupcakes don’t work exactly like fortune cookies do. But his heart was in the right place and you can’t bring yourself to care about biting into a little paper when you see what he’s written on them. He watches with the widest smile on that freckled face as you read how much being with you keeps him grounded in a life that can leave his head spinning sometimes. It means everything to him that his fame doesn’t make you treat him differently. You dance with him beneath the stars and kiss him in the rain because you love the Felix that’s just a silly kid from Australia and not the one on the magazine covers. You make him feel fearless because he knows even if he shoots for the stars and misses you’re here to catch him.

♡ Lino ♡

Some people have this picture in their head of your boyfriend as this grumpy black cat who doesn’t quite know how to show affection but you know better than anyone that isn’t true. In reality you couldn’t imagine finding a guy more loving and thoughtful than Minho. What other guy would surprise you with a hike through a picturesque forest, hiding the cutest lock boxes at special landmarks along the way that hold his favorite pictures of the two of you together? A sentiment that particularly tugs at your heartstrings because you know he isn’t a picture guy but for you he is and always will be. On the back of each picture he writes something he loved about you at that moment. The warmth of your hand as he held it at the cat cafe in Tokyo or the scent of your perfume as you cuddled up to him on a neverending train ride that exhausted both of you. It’s the small things like the way you never hesitate to join him in making funny faces in front of the camera that make love you like he does.

♡ Innie ♡

I.N could give you a bouquet of flowers that say “I love you” and call it a day. He knows you’d still treat it like he gifted you all of the diamonds in the world. But he wants to do more than that. Instead of giving you a bouquet all at once, he gives you a flower for each day of the week and, in place of a real flower, he gives you a glass rose that shimmers marvelously in the sunlight. Engraved on the side of each rose is something he finds special about you. Like the patience that you have with him while he figures out who he is in the world. You never pressure him to become anything or stay the way he was. Whoever he becomes he knows it’ll always be enough for you. Your kisses are like magic, cheering him up when nothing else can. And that counts for all kisses. If it’s on the lips, the neck, the forehead, wherever. They spark a joy inside of him that he isn’t quite sure any amount of words or roses could do justice to but he hopes this comes close.

♡ Seungmin ♡

No one ever thought the day would come where Kim Seungmin got all mushy over a girl. Yet, here he is, head over heels in love with you, and he dares anyone to say something about it. Not that anyone would, it’s a well known fact now that you mean a lot to him. So much that wherever he is in the world he makes sure to bring you back something that reminds him of you. It’s left you with a collection of things from more places than you’ve actually visited. There’s the goddess carved in polished wood, nestled in the arches of a crescent moon with her curves on full display. When he saw it he joked how lucky he was to have one of his own at home, only prettier. Then there’s the music box that plays a song neither of you have ever heard before. Still, it reminds him of your melodic voice whispering to him between the sheets on rainy Sunday mornings. There was no way he could leave the shop without it. He knows one day you’ll run out of room for wind chimes that sway as gracefully your body when you dance, even if you don’t think so, but that’s okay. He’ll just buy you more room.

#stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x you #changbin x you #changbin fluff #lee know fluff #lee know x you #seungmin fluff #seungmin x you #jeongin fluff #jeongin x you #han jisung x you #han jisung fluff #hyunjin fluff #lee felix fluff

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sapphim · 1 year ago

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Monstrous Wardens Masterpost

A great big collection of text from the Dragon Age games and novels about darkspawn, Grey Wardens, and the Calling, to fuel everyone's monstrous wardens headcanons.

This has actually been sitting in my drafts for like half a year now bc I thought I really should scrounge around for more quotes from Last Flight, Awakening, and Legacy. That... didn't happen, and there's really no sense in holding off longer. If I ever do get around to it, I'll pull more quotes to add. But I consider this complete as is. enjoy~

—

The Song

The Old Gods will call to you, From their ancient prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night.

—Canticle of Silence 3:6, Dissonant Verse

“The Old Gods beckon, as they always have.” The Architect turned and paced to the other side of the cell. The shadows cast on the walls by the glowstone danced ominously. “That is what you hear. To my people, it is a call that we cannot ignore. It whispers to our blood and compels us to seek the Old Gods out. We search and search for their prisons, and when we find one, we touch the face of perfection and thus desecrate it forever.”

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

So close. We nearly reached him. Made it down to what looked like a dwarven thaig where the song was actually audible, real and thrumming through the air, not just in our heads. It rattled through the lyrium pillars and shook the earth beneath our feet to its dreadful tempo.

—[DAI] Note: Ancient Warden Logbook

There were creatures in that land. Dark things that lurked in the corners. Cole couldn’t see them, and didn’t want to. He worried that they could see him, however. […] And worse, there was the music. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed to come from far, far oﬀ. It called to him, but not in a pleasant way— it had an urgency that sped his heart and made his blood burn. The dark creatures, the lurkers, they listened to it. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could feel them out there, craning their necks, raising taloned hands toward that call.

—Dragon Age: Asunder, chapter 9

As the griffon began to climb through the clouds that followed the Blight, Isseya heard a faint, strange melody seep into her mind. She had no sense of it as actual sound; rather, it seemed to come from within, almost as if she were humming the tune to herself. She could never have imagined such a song, though. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Aching and ethereal, it seemed to pull her toward a memory of nostalgic bliss that she had somehow lost—but that she would do anything to recover. Anything at all. […] “What was it?” the elf asked, shaken. […] “The Archdemon.” […] For the rest of their ride back to Antiva City, Isseya sat small and quiet on Blacktalon’s back, unable to reconcile the horrors of the darkspawn with the sweetness of their song.

—Dragon Age: Last Flight, chapter 3

The Chorus

The faint sounds of movement ahead got more frequent, and along with them, they began to hear a strange humming. It was deep and alien, a reverberating sound that they felt in their chests and that made their skin crawl. […] The deep humming was coming from [the creature. It] was moaning softly, almost chanting, and this moan built upon the sounds of many others behind it in the shadows. They hummed in unison, a hushed and deadly whisper the creatures spoke as one. […] All of them walked as calmly as the first, shambling toward them while moaning and hissing softly. The sound was loud now, reverberating around them like a physical force. […] They watched the darkspawn advance, their weapons held at the ready. Even with their prey cornered, the creatures did not accelerate. Their hum became louder, reached a hungry, fever pitch.

—Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne, chapter 14

Were they digging? He had the impression that the masses of them were all engaged in some sort of industry, all united in moving great portions of the rock out of the cavern and expanding it even further. Yet there were no sounds of tools crashing against stone, no hammering sounds or grunts of exertion. All he could hear was a rhythmic groan, a keening pitch that it seemed each of the darkspawn contributed to. The sound of it made his skin crawl, and he realized that the chorus in the distance responded to it. Like a cat that arched its back to meet a brushing hand it became ecstatic; it surged and almost overwhelmed his senses.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The Senses

They were more than simply skilled at fighting darkspawn; they knew them intimately. They sensed their presence, sometimes even gleaned their intent.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 4

He could feel the darkspawn out there now. Genevieve was right. It just took some time to become acclimated. They were at the edge of his consciousness, lurking in the shadows far out of sight. It was that same feeling when someone was standing behind you, and you didn’t hear them or sense them in any way; you just knew.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 5

Bregan closed his eyes and carefully reached out with his senses. There were darkspawn all around him. Not in the same room, perhaps, but nearby. He could feel them tickling at the edge of his mind. As always, the sensation came with a feeling of foulness, as if a poison had seeped under his skin.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 2

“There is a taint that is within the darkspawn […] A darkness that pervades us, compels us, drives us to rail against the light. It is in our blood and corrupts the very world around us.” The creature gestured toward Bregan with a withered, taloned hand. “It is also within your blood. It is what makes you what you are, what you sense in us and we in you.”

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 2

Anders: Hmm. Hawke: What's wrong? Anders: I think [the Grey Wardens are] nearby. Anders: Or it could be darkspawn.

—Dragon Age II

The hunter had a sensitivity to the taint that went far beyond any tracking ability he might have learned during his time with the Ash Warriors. He was always the first to sense the approach of darkspawn, and he could discern between the various breeds by their scent alone. Some of the Grey Wardens even used to claim that Kell could do the same with them, sense who was who from afar just as if they were darkspawn. If so, the hunter never commented on it.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 11

She felt Bregan out there, felt him just the same as she felt the darkspawn. Every now and again she would turn a corner in the tunnels and would feel her brother’s presence on the edge of her senses, almost as if his scent had been carried to her somehow on an invisible wind.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 15

The Dreams

Alistair: Oh… and then there were the nightmares. Duncan said it was part of how we sense the darkspawn. We tap into their… well, I don't know what you'd call it. Their “group mind.” Alistair: And when we sleep, it's even worse. You learn to block it out after a while, but at first it's hard. It's supposed to be worse for those who Join during a Blight. How is it for you? Warden: Nightmares… yes, I know what you mean. Alistair: Some people never have much trouble, but that's rare. Others have trouble sleeping their entire life. They're just more sensitive, I suppose. Alistair: Everyone ends up the same, though. Once you reach a certain age, the real nightmares come. That's how a Grey Warden knows his time has come.

—Dragon Age: Origins

The dream, when it came, was similar to the hundreds of dreams Fiona had suffered since she’d become a Grey Warden. Before, however, it had always felt as if she was looking on the dream from afar, hazy and easy to forget. Now it was crystal clear. Fiona stood on a battlefield littered with dead men. All of them were soldiers in heavy armor, knights wearing the griffon standard of the order. Each had been brutally slaughtered. The smell of blood and decay hung thick and cloying in the air, the buzzing sound of flies nipping at her senses. Overhead, the sky filled with an endless, roiling black cloud. It looked like ink spreading slowly in water, a great stain that blotted out the horizon. She had been told about this. The first sign of the Blight, said the Grey Wardens, is found in the clouds. When the mighty dragon rises, its corruption touches the world and spreads. She was alone on that field of corpses. All alone. The wind picked up, a sickly breeze that carried with it the stench of carrion. A gloom fell upon her, and she stumbled as she watched something rise from out of the field of bodies nearby. It was enormous. A great, black thing that was as cold and terrible as anything she could have imagined. Fear pulsed through her. Her heart raced, and she looked away. She didn’t want to see it. She threw her hands up in front of her eyes not to see it. Yet still she felt it coming. Her foot caught between two corpses and made her fall back on top of them. Dead flesh pressed against her and still she covered her eyes. Still she felt the darkness surging ever closer to her. It was coming. And it was coming for her.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 14

The Calling

Hawke: You don't look well, Bethany. Are you injured? Bethany: Injured? I have the darkspawn taint forever in my veins, barely held in check by the Wardens' rituals. Bethany: I will never be well again.

—Dragon Age II

At first, it was just a whisper. A creak in the door hinge I could put off oiling. But soon, all I could hear was the music. It was there when I swung my staff and wiped the sweat from my brow. It lingered in Lyam's laughter and stalked my dreams. I can't explain the sound—the song—but I knew. It's a poison that grows in the mind, then consumes the body.

—[DAI: The Descent] Codex Entry: Warden Ailsa's Diary

It scratches at my thoughts, the music almost a voice, at once unearthly and beautiful. I found myself humming it aloud a few days past. Where once it intruded, it now feels a natural part of my mind's course. It coils around memories I hold dear—training with Ser Keller, riding in the moonlight, my mother's face the last time I saw her—and inserts itself into them, so that I could almost swear that music, that sense of a presence watching and calling, had always been a part of what I remember.

—[DAI] Codex Entry: Regarding the Calling

She had seen enough of the corruption to last a lifetime, and somewhere off in the far distance was that strange sound, the beautiful whispering. She didn’t want to listen to it, but couldn’t help herself. She closed her eyes and tried to pick out what the whisper was saying. Was it a song? Was it a name? It almost seemed that it was calling out to her, stroking her soul ever so softly. . . .

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 14

The humming sound, however, was stronger even than before. It was no longer something muted and distant; it was everywhere. It was behind the walls and under the floor; it filled the shadows and caressed his skin. There was a terrible beauty to it now, an awful yearning that pulsated within the sound, a tugging that pulled at the edge of his consciousness and yet frightened and nauseated him at the same time. The humming had eclipsed any sense he had of the darkspawn. Any attempt he made to reach out with his mind to sense where the creatures were found only a wall of beautiful sound instead. Like a weed, it had insinuated itself into his consciousness, blocking out anything useful.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The far-off chorus had become a powerful symphony, a great swell of beautiful music that no longer pounded to get inside his head but instead tickled at the edges of his thoughts. It was far easier to ignore, but now he found it distracting. He found himself losing his train of thought whenever he listened.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 10

The taint fogged her thoughts a little more with each passing morning. Her diary, once a detailed chronicle of every day’s thoughts, went neglected for weeks, sometimes months. She was losing her mind. She wasn’t the only one, of course. It had gotten harder to tell the reality of the Blight from the horrors of her dreams. Sometimes she wasn’t sure which one she walked through, or which one she fought in. The elf had learned to recognize the confusion that sometimes passed over other senior Wardens’ faces. They, too, heard the Archdemon’s song echoing through their heads, a trifle louder every night. They, too, fought to block it out and to hide the signs from their comrades…

—Dragon Age: Last Flight, chapter 21

My body is breaking down. The fingernails were the first to go. I started to itch all over, and when I scratched, they peeled back. Clumps of hair fell away. Then clumps of flesh. I hear a song in my head. It's deafening. The most beautiful thing I've ever heard. But I don't hear it with my ears. It's in my brain. A blissful sound. This must be the call for which the darkspawn yearn, what causes them to dig so feverishly. I'd still rather die. Suppose that's something.

—[DAI] Codex Entry: To Be Corrupted

His skin itched terribly underneath those bandages, but he resisted the urge to peel them off. The pain throughout his body was dull but insistent, as if his body protested against this unfamiliar movement. The sluggishness made him wary. There was a thickness to his blood, a deliberateness to his heartbeat that made him feel like something alien was crawling inside of him and sapping his strength. […His arms] were half covered in dark blotches. At first, he wondered if that was some kind of injury, or perhaps a bloodstain. But then he noticed the texture of the skin within those discolored areas: rough and withered, just as darkspawn flesh was. […] Every part of his skin that wasn’t covered by the greyed cloth bandages was corrupted. It was like a network of black mold working its way across his entire body, and everywhere it touched he could feel a hot buzzing underneath the flesh. It was difficult to look at.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The Architect stared into Utha’s eyes and nothing happened at first. Then black veins began to appear along her hand where the darkspawn touched her. They became darker and darker, the veins branching until her entire hand was criss-crossed with them. […] Her flesh withered and curled, the air filling with the foul stench of decay. […] The stain on her skin spread, crawling up her neck and covering her face. Her coppery hair began to grey, and then it became white. Her long braid twisted and curled behind her, like a match that was burning itself into a cinder. Her eyes shot open, blood red, and she opened her mouth in a soundless scream... and what wisps remained of her hair simply fell out. And then it was done.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 16

Bonus entry that made me go "hey what the fuck"

What I remember most is its tongue flapping against a row of spiky teeth. I'd heard emissaries possessed the ability to speak, but the words were unnatural. They twisted and lurched as they left the creature's mouth, accompanied with a spray of saliva. "Have you ever experienced living flesh ground between your teeth?" it asked Mila before biting through her throat.

—[DAI: The Descent] Codex Entry: Darkspawn Emissary

#dragon age #grey wardens #darkspawn #wardenposting #canonical texts

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

Note

Darling I am SO SORRY for adding yet another request to the already enormous pile but OH MY GOD your buggy family saga keeps me thinking! The way buggy wants to have daughters! The way the twins have regular noses but CONSIDER!!!! him and his lady having a baby girl and AHHHH she got his nose!!! Little cherry baby! At first he's so afraid because of his own I security and then he's DETERMINED that his baby girl will never feel that shame or I security neverrr

Cherry Babies 🍒

- Support me on Ko-fi please, For Ramen 🍜

- Old Man Series

• Buggy is head over heels in Love with his Daughters. Ari and Ali- has shown them off to everyone and holds them constantly.

• "Look at my daughters! They are so beautiful! Makes your baby look ugly!" He laughs at a random villager-

• You having to apologize and just explain he's excited-

• Calls them a host of Nicknames like with the Twins. The boys he always calls Peanuts or Double trouble.

• For the girls he has adopted Cherries or Bubble & Squeak. Mainly due to Ari Seeming to always be blowing spit bubbles which he has to clean and Ali being the more vocal of twin and making a host of random noises.

• He trains Dee and Bee more- Wanting them to learn how to protect their sisters and guard them.

• Speaking of the boys, They love their sisters. At first they were jealous assuming that the babies would steal all of the attention, That was till they returned from the ship after your labor and found that you would be in deep recovery from the birth. So Buggy was dealing with the girls mostly- thats when the boys decided to help their father till you were better and fell in love with them just like Buggy did.

• The twins had become massive helps to You and Buggy. Often without even needing to be asked-

• A few weeks after the birth Buggy walked into the nursery to check on the girls and found Dee asleep leaned next to the crib were the girls were and Bee asleep on the floor.

• Buggy had never felt such a strong swell of pride before and picked up the boys and tucked them into their proper beds that night. A smile on his face the whole time

• If anyone mentions their noses- GOES APE SHIT

• A nurse was the first one to be on the end of this treatment- It was there one month check up and the Doctor had given the clear the girls were happy and healthy. He had brought his assistant a young male nurse with him to help with things like weighing both twins and documenting results.

• Buggy caught his eye staring at thier noses and his eyes narrowed dangerously. The nurse fucked up though when he said 'Do we check the noses?.. was that normal?"

• The Doctor and you knowing that there was no stopping Buggy as he screamed in the Nurses face and proceeded to beat him to death-

• He will constantly be paranoid something Is wrong with the girls.

• "(Y/N) Why is she crying like this?" He panics as he holds Ari who is crying hard. You walk over calmly to see the man on the verse of tears as you do a quick check over and touch her rounded stomach which immediately leads to a dart and her quieting down.

• "She just has gas-" Buggy stares "Oh-"

• When the twins open their eyes and start to look around Buggy is overjoyed. Especially when he sees they have his eyes, Is immediately swooned.

• AKA HE THROWS A PARTY

• Buggy of course had thrown another party, Like he did with all his kids it seemed. Dee figuring out how to read the maps- Party. Bee making his first Bomb- Party so now that the girls had opened their eyes- PARTY

• It's a massive event with his entire crew involved. Food, Music, Drinks, the works.

• You catch him buzzed off his ass swaying to some music while holding the twins against his chest. You go to protest and scold him- But notice he is actually levitating by his ankles to keep from tripping as well as using the baby scarf to hold them up.

• It was oddly cute? Here was this pirate, high bounty and nasty reputation red in the face singing along to the music while holding his daughters.

• Ari is wide awake looking around at all the new things while Ali is peacefully asleep cuddled into Buggys chest.

• When he turns you see Bee asleep on his back, like a piggyback ride.

• You of course snap the picture of Buggy holding three kids at once.

• Will want to set back to sea by the Girls 3rd month and has the ship ready by then. He knows its difficult but feels safer on the sea then on land ironically as well as He has been on this island for a year and doesn't want to lose his reputation.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader

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finelinevogue · 1 year ago

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just an idea, but what about the fact that harry has fine line on the setlist… 👀

just remember it’s all your decision and what your up for writing

fine line kisses

you made me cry writing this cause i had fine line playing in the background too🥹

word count: +1.5k

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

You were stood to the side of the stage when it happened.

Harry was on stage and about to finish his last song before the encore and you were ready to greet him with a loving kiss for all his hard work so far.

Just as you watched him finish up Watermelon Sugar, he walks to the side of the stage opposite to you and you wonder whether he's forgotten which side of the stage to come off from. However when you see him pick up his galaxy and cat painted guitar you begin to wonder what he is up to.

Harry walks over to the microphone as the crowd softens their deafening cheers to see what he has to say next.

"How are we doing Denmark?" He asks again, always checking in on his fans to make sure they're all still alright.

The crowd screams and settles down as Harry strums one random chord on his guitar, probably to check that it is working.

"This next song wasn't planned until about an hour ago. It's one that means a lot to me and I am aware it means a lot to all of you too." He pauses to let the screams deafen the stadium, as people begin to guess what song is going to be played next. "Tonight, though, I am playing this song for my girlfriend. This is Fine Line."

The familiar strum of chords sounds through the stadium and you have to keep yourself from letting your legs collapse beneath you.

Your eyes water at the mere first few strums of the guitar and your gaze doesn't falter from your boyfriend on stage.

This was not real.

It was hard to comprehend that he was finally playing Fine Line at a show that you were in attendance of. You always go on about it being his best song and how it means so much to you, but you never thought he would so openly declare that.

The fans would thank you later.

Throughout the whole song you sway your body gently and cup your hands together over your mouth. The tears don't stop falling as you quietly sing along with him. In a stadium full of thousands it just feels like you and him in this moment.

The crowd looks beautiful with their flashlights on and the lights in the stadium are dimmed to pink. The ambience is unforgettable.

Harry's vocals are something magical to behold too. He has never pushed himself to sing notes he finds difficult, just in case his voice breaks or gets hurts, but tonight he pushes all those boundaries. He sings in a higher key for the second verse and the crowd cheer because of it. You nod your head silently as you watch him present the best performance of his career.

With the horns too, the music is something else.

By the end of the song where it is just the instrumental you are fully crying and your body is shaking as you sob. The makeup that you had put on is no, no doubt, smudged all over your face.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Harry repeats as he holds his hand of his heart and air-kisses all of his fans.

And before you know it, he is running off backstage to the wing that you're stood in.

You walk backwards as he runs towards you and the rest of his team. They all clap and cheer for him, just as the audience is. He only had three minutes before he has to go back onstage for the encore.

When he catches sight of you he can't help but frown. He walks over to you with his arms open wide. You, however, walk back away from him.

"No. Don't even..." You shake your head, still crying.

If he touches you now, you may never stop crying because of how much love you have for him. It'll all come to fruition with one hug.

"Baby, don't be silly. You need a hug." He chuckles as you still won't let him near you.

"No. You have ruined me. Look at me!" Your tone of voice shows Harry that you are only joking, but he still wants to be near you just in case a small part of you is genuinely sad.

"You look beautiful."

"I am a mess, no thanks to you." You let out a strained groan as you try to compose yourself.

"Was my performance that bad?" He teases, standing in front of you but no longer trying to touch you. He didn't want to overwhelm you.

"Fuck off." You give him a sarcastic glare. "You know it was good. Better than good, actually. And I'm... fuck... I'm really p-proud of you a-and I love you." You begin to cry again.

"Y/N, baby..." He says quietly.

"Ugh you're so annoying. Why am I crying?" You laugh in joke.

Harry laughs too, dimples out from smiling so hard. He never thought that his music could impact someone this much, but it makes him feel alive to see someone react so emotionally to his music.

"You're allowed to cry, babe, it's fine. You're alright."

"Don't even go saying things like that right now. It's too soon." You point a glare at him as you breathe to cool down.

"Okay, take some deep breathes with me. In, one, two, three and out, one, two three.." Harry repeats with you, stepping a little closer to you each time.

By the seventh count he has managed to wrap his arms around you, one around your waist to pull you infinitely close, and the other to cup around your head protectively as you rest it on his chest. You've stopped crying and he can tell your sadness is dissipating with every second he holds you.

"I love you so much." He says against your head, kissing the crown of your head a couple of times. He feels your arms squeeze around his waist in response.

"I love you too." Your response is muffled, since you're buried so deep into the softness of his chest.

"Sorry I made you cry." He laughs and you feel his chest moving from his laughter.

“Sorry I’m a blubbering mess.”

"It's okay. You can cry as much as you want, because I'll always be here to give you a hug."

"You'll set me off again if you're not careful." You warn him, before he says anything more smushy.

He laughs a giggle that makes you happy to hear, "Sorry."

"H! Thirty seconds!" Someone shouts to him.

You pull away from him. Harry reaches up to your eyes to wipe underneath any mascara debris. He smiles as he does so, making you smile in return.

"Beautiful." He reminds you.

"I love you." You remind him.

"I love you too." He smiles, "And stay right here, okay? I want to run straight off this stage, after, and proper kiss you. Don't leave me."

"You'll get your post-concert kiss, H." You nod knowingly, because he never misses it.

"It's all I'll be thinking about."

You blow him an air kiss in anticipation of the real one, which he catches and pretends to pocket until he can really get to kiss you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec #harry styles love on tour #love on tour fic #love on tour blurbs #harry styles fine line

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ladykailitha · 2 months ago

Text

Icarus Part 20

Damn guys, wow! Twenty chapters in. Shit. Wow. We've only got five chapters to go.

Hey, remember that breakdown that Steve feared was coming? Yeah it's in this chapter. Just not the person anyone thought it would be. Also Steve learns to lean on the people who love him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

Steve was nervous. He was rarely nervous on stage, but this was special. Eddie had written a duet version of one Corroded Coffin’s songs and Abbadon was going to feature. So when The Fallen left and Corroded Coffin came on, the first song would be the new duet.

Apparently Gareth had been badgering Eddie to include it in the set list since before the whole rehab stint. But that was around the time Steve and he got together and felt it was too close to the mark to sing it on stage like that.

But somehow the three other members had convinced him and Eddie in turn had managed to convince The Fallen, both bands managers, and their tech guys to let them do it in Denver.

The Fallen finished their encore and they huddled together as Corroded Coffin’s equipment was set up.

Then it was time, with all the lights off Abbadon went to stand in the middle of the stage, directly in front Gareth’s stage where his kit was. The spotlights came on, first highlighting Gareth, then Brian, Jeff, and then Eddie.

Abbadon stood in the darkness, microphone in hand, head hung between his shoulders.

This was the moment. The moment Steve had spent his whole adult life dreaming about. On stage with Corroded Coffin to sing with Eddie. His only regret that it was as Abbadon and not himself. But damn, he’d be fool to turn down the opportunity and he knew it.

Eddie started in on guitar; the sweet, slow build up of one of their greatest hits. “Run, Lover Boy, Run.”

But when the first verse started it wasn’t the gravelly growl of Eddie Munson, but the haunting tenor of Abbadon.

“When I see you there,

Standing with your friends,

I have to stop and stare,

Because, baby I know how this ends...”

Finally Abbadon was lit by a pale blue light, making the white of his costume seem ghost like and eerie. He raised his head and the lace mask made him even more beautiful. He walked toward the front of the stage slowly as he joined Eddie front and center.

To say the crowd went wild would have been an understatement. The Fallen fans were freaking out and screaming and crying. The Corroded Coffin fans roared their approval as Abbadon’s voice lent the song a melancholy vibe.

Eddie sang the second verse and then they joined in together for the chorus. Abbadon leaned in close, their spotlights blending together.

“Run, Lover Boy, Run,

Don’t you know,

You were only a little bit of fun

Run, Lover Boy, Run

You were looking for love,

Can’t you see we’re done?”

Abbadon knew he should have moved back for the next verse, but somehow he found himself draped over Eddie. Even though the song was about being used by a guy he thought he could trust but was only looking for a hookup and not something more serious. He just couldn't move away.

Eddie had a white knuckle grip on his guitar, playing his hardest and singing about heartbreak. Abbadon’s microphone was at his side as he shared Eddie’s. He had even turned it off to avoid feedback.

They were so close that any closer they would have been making out over the microphone. But the thing that really tipped things over the edge was when the final verse came, Abbadon sunk to his knees and belted it out. So from a certain perspective it looked as though he was grinding against Eddie leg.

The crowd went absolutely feral. There was screaming, crying, and apparently in two extreme cases, fainting.

He wasn’t.

Steve wanted to make that clear. He wasn’t grinding against Eddie’s leg. To both their management and the media. Because, yeah he saw the video the fans uploaded and it was very suspect, but his other fans had his back. They posted the view from the other side of the stadium where he was just a few feet away from the lead singer, on his knees, his free hand clenched in a fist.

But oh boy did fuel rumors about Abbadon and Eddie in ways that made Steve’s skin crawl. It was a good thing they had two days before they got to Vegas for Steve to hide in their trailer.

“Steve!” Robin as Robin called out, banging on the door. “Come on, Steve, you can’t hide in there forever!”

Eddie had tried. Chrissy had tried. Hell, even Vickie gave it a go. But Steve refused to budge. Shane let out a sigh after Simon and Spence were both sent away as well.

“Let me try,” he said softly.

They all cleared out to let Shane have a go. He sat down on the steps to the trailer and leaned his head against the door.

“Hey, Steve,” he muttered. “You don’t have to come out, but I’m gonna start talking and maybe you’ll decide to do that on your own.”

He was met with silence. Which was already a step up from the shouts to go away. So he started talking.

“I worry about us as friends, all of us,” he said, strained. “Simon keeps turning down women who are generally into him because he thinks they’re only into him because of what we do. But there have been some real good ones. One that wanted to get to know him, but he just shuts them down. I worry about his attachment to you. I know he’s straight. I’ve hit on him before... before you I guess. Back when we were just some idiots in a cafe who didn’t know what life was.”

He let out a watery chuckle. “But I’ve also seen girls flirt with him as a roadie and he still thinks it’s because of what he does rather than wanting him for he who is. He’s a good guy. He’s one of the best. But he doesn’t seem to want to be better.”

Shane looked up at the clear blue sky and let out a shuddering breath. He hung his head.

“Spence doesn’t want to go out anymore,” he continued, his voice quaking with the feeling of loss. “All he wants to do is spend all his time talking to Nadia. The only time he goes out is as someone else and that can’t be healthy either.”

He ran his fingers through his tight red curls, gripping them at the base and pulling. His hands shook with the effort and the emotions.

“I just came out as gay and I’m frightened by it all,” Shane said. “My parents are supportive. Because of course they are. But I can tell the difference in people from the way they used to look at me and how they look at me now. I was going to teach middle school, Steve. I was going to teach world history to teenagers. But this changed everything.”

There was a soft thud behind him and he figured it was Steve sitting on the floor in front of the door.

“But of all us,” he whispered through his tears, “I worry about you the most. You think you have to be strong for everyone else. You came out with me and I’m getting more support than you are. Yeah, you have a good support system. I wouldn’t have allowed you to come out otherwise, twin. But this moment that blew up in your face, shouldn’t have.”

He lifted his head up and let the tears continue to stream down his face. “It should have been a moment of pure joy and it turned into an embarrassment. You’ll forever look back at the first time you sang with shame. And you shouldn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were incandescent. You lit up that stage and it was beautiful.”

The door to the trailer opened a crack and instantly Shane was on his feet. He opened the door all the way and slipped inside, closing it tightly behind him. Sitting in the dark on the floor not far from the door was a very disheveled Steve. It looked like he hadn’t slept in awhile. They all traveled together, but Steve had taken to locking people out until it was time to get on the road again.

“Hey, twin,” Shane muttered as he moved to sit next to him on the floor.

Steve snorted. They looked nothing alike but by some twist of fate they had been born on the same day, year and all. Steve was older by like seven hours. So Shane had taken to calling him twin when no one else was around.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I hate making people worry about me.”

Shane bumped their shoulders together. “Well that’s too damn bad, Steve. Because you don’t get to make that choice for other people.”

Steve out a shuddering breath. “It’s not even the fallout of people thinking I was grinding against him that bothers me the most.”

“Yeah?” Shane asked with a huff. “What is?”

“That I wanted to.” Steve buried his head in his hands. “I wanted to touch him, kiss him, hell even fuck him on that stage. But I knew that if I wavered for even a fucking second the backlash would be, oh so much worse.”

Shane looked at him for a moment. “No it wouldn’t.” Steve’s head whipped around to face him. “Steve...you hang off me and Simon all the time. You flirt with the audience. All the photo shoots of you are in sexy poses. Shit, man. You wouldn’t be doing anything different than a half a dozen heterosexual bands have done on stage.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. And Shane was right. A famous rockstar humped a massive blown up dick on stage and no one thought twice about that. At least none that weren’t going to be pearl clutching about it in the first place.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

“I think you should play up into more if I’m honest,” Shane huffed. “You’re out as bisexual. Play into the stereotype of being a slut. The people who know you, know you’re with Eddie and monogamous, but those people,” he pointed out of the trailer, “the ones that don’t matter? Soak up all that attention and feed on it.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and a slow smile spread out over his face. Pictures started forming in his head. He thought about how his persona was already the opposite of him in real life. He thought about the thrill he got when he saw the photos of him online from the angle that made it look risque. He thought about how he wanted to play up into flirting with Eddie on stage.

“Can you get the rest of the band in here with Robin and Eddie and Vickie if you can get her too?”

Shane’s answering grin was all he needed to know. Shane got to his feet and within minutes everyone was huddled together in the trailer and Steve explained his idea.

Vickie smiled wickedly. “I think it’s a brilliant idea and if Eddie’s on board with it I’d be happy to lean into that.”

Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think what might make it easier so people don’t focus on me is if I get the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys in on it too. That way if Steve as Abbadon is seen flirting with the whole band it’ll come off as being a flirt and not that there’s something specific between Abbadon and I.”

“I like that,” Simon agreed. “Abbadon is already all over Astraeus and Asmodeus so flirting with Jeff and Brian as well as Eddie that would play up into the slut allegations.”

Steve laughed and then shared a knowing smile with Robin. Yep. Simon might be shy about most things but when it came to Steve... that was a whole other kettle of fish.

“We’ll do another duet tonight,” Eddie said, nodding. “Have Abbadon start Gareth’s lap or something.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Spence said, “but don’t lock us out next time. You’re there for us. It’s time you let us be there for you. Okay?”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay.”

They all came up and gave Steve huge hugs before they piled out of the trailer again, leaving behind Shane and Eddie.

“Thanks for getting him to come out of his shell,” Eddie said to Shane. “I didn’t know what to say because it’s always been apart of my contract that I was out and loud.” He stood up and gave Steve a sweet kiss on the mouth before he, too, went back outside.

“You going to be okay, Steve?” Shane asked, moving to sit next to him on the sofa. Well futon technically, but semantics.

Steve looked up at his friend. “I worry about you, too.” Shane let out a an aborted laugh. “I know you’re frightened of being out, but I know you’ve been coming back from partying all hours of the night and sometimes day. Spence and Simon sleep like fucking logs and snore just like sawing them. But I hear you.”

Shane buried his head in his hands for a moment before running his fingers down his face. “I’ll tell you what, twin. I’ll cut back on the partying, if accept our help. And not just some of the time. Come to us for help and I’ll keep the partying to a minimum.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Just take Spence out with you and we’ll call it a deal.”

He reached out his hand and shook it. “Deal.”

Tag List: CLOSED

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar au #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington

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bookshelf-in-progress · 7 months ago

Text

The Beggar's Door: A Retelling of "King Thrushbeard"

Oh, yes, King Gregor had a temper, but in this case, it was more than justified. You see, the king had gone through all the expense of hosting an enormous ball so every eligible suitor on the continent could vie for the hand of Princess Dulcibella, and what do you think she did? Not smile and curtsey and thank them for the honor, that’s for sure. She rejected every man to his face! And not politely! The princess had a tongue like a whip, and she scourged those high and mighty men with every insult you can imagine before declaring she would have none of them as a husband. Some of them were on the verge of declaring war.

So none of us were surprised when King Gregor, in a towering rage, summoned Princess Dulcibella to the throne room the next morning.

Princess Dulcibella was a beautiful maid—fair and willowy—and she walked toward her father with as dainty a step and as innocent an air as any woman who ever lived, humming a traveling minstrel’s tune.

“Daughter,” the king declared. “I have brought you here to meet your husband.”

The princess stopped humming. “Tradition states that a crown princess may choose her own husband.”

“Tradition also states that if the princess refuses all her suitors, she is wed to the first man to come into the king’s presence.”

Princess Dulcibella’s lovely face paled. “You would not be so barbaric.”

“You have left me no other choice.” The king pointed to the grand doors through which the princess had entered—the only entrance that had been left unbarred. “Your husband—the man of my choosing—will enter through that door at the stroke of ten.”

Everyone knew who that would be—Baldric of Eldria, a brute and bore (and, some said, a usurper), but king of the wealthiest nation on the continent.

At his words, a door opened—but not the great door.

In a shadowed corner of the throne room, a forgotten, barely visible door swung open on rusted hinges.

The king whirled upon his chamberlain. “I said all the doors were to be barred!”

The chamberlain was deathly pale. “Tradition states that the beggar’s door can never be barred.”

An old tradition, the beggar’s door, one that said the poor must be able to approach their king for help in desperate need, or else the kingdom would fall. No one had used the door in generations—but the door had remained open.

Through that door came a ragged young man, tattered shoes on his feet and a lute on his back. With a smile, he bowed to the princess, as graceful as any courtier.

“My king and my lady,” he said. “If you can spare a coin for a starving minstrel, I would be glad to repay your kindness with a song.”

He had charm, that ragged clown, and probably a nice face somewhere under the layer of dirt.

Princess Dulcibella smiled upon him—men had crossed continents for that smile—and, in the sight of a stunned crowd in the throne room, the minstrel began to sing.

O, come away, my fine young maiden Though I’ve no place to call my own We’ll wander through the wooded valleys And make the wild world our home

You know the song, but you’ve never heard it as he sang it. He had a voice like love itself come to life—as if he’d come a-purpose for wooing. We all were spellbound. The princess was enchanted.

He sang a verse or ten, and when the song finally faded, the king was the first to remember the purpose of the day. For all the unexpected happenings, he hadn’t forgotten his rage. He’d lost his chance at an alliance, but his revenge upon an ungrateful daughter was still within reach.

“Minstrel,” he declared. “You’ve won more than a coin. According to tradition, you have my daughter as bride to wed.”

The priest emerged from behind the throne—intended for a far more royal wedding. In the sight of us all, the princess and the beggar were bound as man and wife.

“Now, be gone from my house!” the king declared. “You’re a beggar’s wife, now, and can have no place here.”

Dulcibella was stripped of her finery, but somehow she didn’t seem to mind.

The minstrel took her in his arms and carried her out the beggar’s door—gazing upon each other with as much devotion as if they were any ordinary pair of lovers.

With that, they disappeared. I’ve not seen either of them again.

But I’ve heard stories.

Dulcibella was clever, you see, and her maids tell stories of a minstrel who would sing near her window on moonlit nights.

Some say she told him of the beggar’s door.

Some even say that the minstrel was no minstrel at all, but young King Alaric, cast down from the throne of Eldria, living in exile until he can reclaim his throne.

I don’t know what to believe, but I like to believe she’s happy as a beggar’s wife, and I believe there’s no better woman to someday take a place as queen.

King Baldric had better take care.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #king thrushbeard

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n1ght0f-nyx · 2 months ago

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hiiiiii i'm a big phantom of the opera fan. Could i please please please request a fic where the reader works in the opera house and she has a panic attack but the phantom sees her and sings to calm her down <33333

Song in the Dark

erik destler (the phantom) x gn reader!

The reader, working in the opera house, has a panic attack and hides in a dark corner. The Phantom finds her, sees her distress, and sings a calming song.

warnings- not a realistic panic attack, anxiety

word count: 889 words

divder by kodaswrld

The grandiose halls of the Paris Opera House echoed with the sound of rehearsals. Dancers glided across the stage, singers belted high notes, and behind the scenes, the workers were bustling—adjusting props, fixing costumes, and preparing for the upcoming performance. You, one of the backstage hands, found yourself moving at a rapid pace, trying to keep up with the demands of the day.

But something was different today. There was a tension in your chest that hadn’t been there before. The pressure of work, the fast pace, the noise—it all began to blur together, and suddenly, your world felt as if it was spinning out of control.

You stumbled into a shadowy corner near the labyrinthine hallways beneath the opera house, clutching your chest. Your breaths became shallow, your heart raced, and your mind was swirling with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. You had read about panic attacks before, but nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling of dread. Your hands trembled as you slid to the ground, tears welling in your eyes.

Suddenly, amidst the darkness and chaos in your mind, a voice emerged from the shadows. Soft, soothing, and hauntingly beautiful, it called out to you.

"Do not be afraid, little one. You are safe here."

The voice wrapped around you like a gentle embrace. Though your heart still raced, you couldn’t help but focus on the sound. A figure stepped into the dim light, cloaked in shadows, yet unmistakable—the Phantom. His white mask gleamed against the darkened walls, and his presence, though intimidating, was oddly comforting in that moment.

He crouched beside you, his voice low and melodic. "You must breathe. Listen to me."

You tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness in your chest remained. Your vision blurred with tears, and you found yourself sinking further into the panic. Sensing your struggle, the Phantom leaned closer, and without a word, he began to sing.

His voice, rich and deep, flowed through the narrow space. The melody was unfamiliar, but it was calm and gentle, like a lullaby meant to soothe a frightened child. The notes filled the air, wrapping around you, coaxing you to focus on the sound rather than the chaos inside your mind.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered between verses.

You obeyed, closing your eyes and listening to his song. The tension in your chest slowly began to ease, as if the weight of your panic was being lifted by the very sound of his voice. You could hear every note, every gentle rise and fall in the melody, and it felt like the world around you had stopped spinning.

The Phantom continued to sing, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. He wasn’t just singing to calm you down—he was singing for you, as if each note was crafted with you in mind. His presence, once feared by so many in the opera house, felt like a lifeline in your moment of vulnerability.

Gradually, your breathing steadied. The tightness in your chest loosened, and the tears that had spilled over your cheeks began to dry. The panic that had gripped you so fiercely was now fading, replaced by a sense of calm, and the comfort of knowing that someone had been there for you when you needed it most.

When you finally opened your eyes, the Phantom had stopped singing. He was still close, his eyes fixed on you, though half his face remained hidden by his iconic mask. You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, though you weren’t sure what to say.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The Phantom’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. “There is no need to thank me. The music has always had the power to heal... to calm the soul.”

He rose to his feet with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly and extended a hand to you. Hesitant at first, you took it, allowing him to help you to your feet. Even after the panic had subsided, there was something grounding about his touch.

"You should rest," he said, his voice softer now, almost tender. "The opera will still be here when you are ready."

You nodded, still feeling the aftershocks of your anxiety, but the weight had lifted. The Phantom gave you a final, enigmatic glance before turning away, his figure melting back into the shadows from which he had emerged.

As you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed within you. Perhaps it was the Phantom’s song, or perhaps it was the realization that, even in the deepest corners of the opera house, even in the midst of fear, you were not alone.

And somewhere, deep in the bowels of the opera house, the Phantom sang on.

#divder by kodaswrld #phantom of the opera #poto #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #erik the phantom #poto art #the phantom of the opera #poto musical #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera x reader #christine daae #x reader #phantom x reader #gerard butler #charles dance #erik poto #request

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

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brooklyn baby (01/?)

i've got my eye on you

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you go with your cousins to a concert of the band "Dragon Dynasty" in Brooklyn, although you are not a fan of the band, the guitarist catches your attention.

word count: 7.7k

series masterlist • next part

hello beautiful people, here I am again with a new fic! I'm so happy and very excited to start this, I hope you like it a lot, that you enjoy it and I'm looking forward to your support and your comments that I always love to answer:) seriously you guys are amazing!

I still don't know how many chapters this story will have but it won't be more than 10, so wait for them. thank you very much for reading loves, enjoy!

warnings: none yet.

He is so majestic.

It's the first thing you think when the band finally comes out on stage and the concert starts, causing the screams of a bunch of girls all around you all over the place, all of them joined by your cousins, Baela and Rhaena.

You don't even understand how the three of you managed to make it to the front, just Baela and Rhaena acted in survival mode and started dragging you all over the place, making their way through the crowd to get face to face with all the band members.

And now… you're sure that by the time this is all over, tomorrow the two of them won't have a voice because of all the screaming.

At first you thought it would just be another band that doesn't have a big audience and that even though it's a band you don't know, you'd still have a good time. Although it's not like it was an option not to come, your cousins literally forced you to.

However, you're surprised to see that the place is full and all the girls are going crazy, as well as your cousins already made sure to tell you all about the band, tell you what you need to know and show you their favorite songs all the way here.

Basically the band, Dragon Dynasty, just debuted at the end of last year and is already getting some pretty good recognition.

And not only for the music, but also for the appearance… peculiar, of all the members.

When Rhaena showed you pictures of all of them, either as a group or individually, you understood the obsession of both of them. They all have platinum hair and look as if they had stepped out of the very palace of the Greek Gods, all absolutely attractive and very sexy.

And now seeing them in person, just a few feet away from you, is very different from seeing them in their social media photos.

The lead singer, Aegon Targaryen, is the one who introduces all the band members and starts the concert. And every time he approaches the edge of the stage, the girls again scream, as they scream at every verse he sings.

Then Rhaena records and focuses more on the bass player, Luke, with his short platinum hair and sitting on one of the speakers, focused on his notes. While Baela, of course, focuses on the drummer named Jace, Luke's older brother.

You understand from the great information your cousins gave you about all of them that they are all brothers, except that Jace and Luke are cousins of the vocalist Aegon, the piano guy and the guy who plays the electric guitar, the last three being brothers.

You focus for a moment on the piano guy, who from Baela's information, he is the same age as Jace. He definitely has an incredible resemblance to his brothers and from time to time he smiles towards the crowd, or rather towards the girls, who of course scream and go completely crazy with those simple gestures.

But when you look at him… the guitarist… you immediately can't take your eyes off him.

When your cousins showed you the pictures of all of them, it was precisely him who caught your attention the most of all, Aemond Targaryen.

At first you thought that his pictures with that aesthetic on him were just for the band, as a way to draw attention, however, Rhaena explained to you that he doesn't really have a left eye.

In some photos he has a black patch on and in some others he doesn't, so instead there is a shiny ocean blue stone, like a sapphire, inside where his eye should be. And when Rhaena explained to you that this is how he really lives, it definitely caught your attention a lot more.

But not only for that, also for his style of clothes, whether they were black or black with white, as well as his expressions in the photos did not really show much.

In all of them he didn't look at the camera, he was always looking away with a serene and serious look at the same time, to show himself in the same way every time he looked at the camera with his guitar at all times and his platinum hair long and completely loose.

And now to see him in person… he still looks the same way, serious and completely focused on his guitar, except for his brothers and cousins who focus on the audience from time to time, but not him.

And just like that, you can't take your eyes off of him, as if he were an invisible attractive force, delighted by the way he focuses on playing his notes, his fingers moving across the strings and his bare arms showing you some tattoos on his pale skin.

Everything about him… it's just alluring, sexy, mysterious and at the same time… dangerous, as if it's not right to involve you somehow with him, but being so striking and exciting at the same time.

"They're great, huh?"

Baela shouts to you over the music, with a huge excited smile, as you nod, really unable to stop focusing on him.

"Yes, they are."

Actually the band is really good, regardless of the looks of the members, because what looks.

The songs are like a mix of Arctic Monkeys, The Neighbourhood, Cigarettes After Sex and some Lana del Rey type instrumentals, they also have more danceable songs in the style of The 1975, but all with cool guitar and drum instrumentals.

You really like them, the style of their music is to your liking, but again… you can't help but focus on him.

The concert lasts a little more than an hour, where during some little intermissions, you saw how he was lighting a cigarette and playing the guitar at the same time, so it was more and more impossible to take your eyes off him, listening how sometimes the girls were shouting his name and he was greeting them back with a simple nod of his head, that being enough to drive them crazy.

And by the time everything ends, the vocalist Aegon starts to say goodbye to all the members with an euphoria and an energy that he gave off all over the audience so that they would react in the same way.

"I want to hear loud cheers for our drummer, Jace!"

Baela screams like crazy next to you, leaving you completely stunned, as well as more girls around you, while the mentioned stands up from his seat and waves goodbye to all of them, smiling.

"To our pianist, my little brother, Daeron!"

More shouts, as he also waves goodbye with his hands and with a charming and flirtatious smile to all the girls, moving closer to the stage, that making many girls come closer to the edge, wanting to touch him, as he laughs and takes several of them by the hand.

"To our bassist, Luke!"

Rhaena is now the one who leaves you stunned from your left ear, as more girls shout, while the boy smiles and looks a little shy, looking very cute, waving goodbye to all of them with his hand, then lowering his gaze with his cheeks slightly blushing.

You see how Aemond next to him gives him a friendly tap on his shoulder, watching him with a small half smile and looking somewhat amused by his behavior, that catching your attention a lot, since you didn't see him smile much towards his audience.

"Now for our guitarist, Aemond!"

You clap, but don't shout, seeing how immediately the place is filled with screams and more applause, realizing that even though he's not very expressive and doesn't react much to the audience, still the girls are completely crazy about him.

And you don't blame them, it's obvious that's because of how incredibly handsome and sexy that man is.

However, even so he doesn't react much again to his applause, only waves goodbye with one of his hands, really watching everyone expressionless, reading on his lips as he says "thank you" and then turns around and picks up a bottle of water.

You bite your lips, still watching him, when finally Aegon gives the closing.

"And at last your server, ladies!" says the vocalist in a flirtatious manner, again the place exploding in cheers, "That's been all Brooklyn, thank you so much for having us. See you next time, we love you guys!"

He does get closer to the audience, instantly the guards react to take care of him, while he takes everyone's hands and also takes some bracelets or necklaces that the girls give him, while he smiles and blows kisses.

The rest of the members start to leave the stage, while Aegon continues to take all the screams and those little gifts, really getting along very well with the audience, to finally after a few moments, say goodbye and leave the stage.

"Did you like them?"

Rhaena asks you as the three of them stand, waiting for all the other girls to leave the not so big but not so small club.

"Yes, their songs are fine," you nod to her.

"Their songs or the guitarist rather?" Baela asks you with a mischievous look.

"Oh come on," you give her a look of few friends, still nerves giving you away.

"I knew it!" squeals Rhaena with a huge smile, "I knew you weren't more asking about him than the others for nothing."

"And I don't blame you," adds Baela, "With those tattoos who wouldn't be crazy about him?"

"But you like Jace and he doesn't have tattoos."

"Aemond is fine, like exaggeratedly fine," she clarifies, "But I feel like I wouldn't stand a chance with him, plus he's too serious and too closed off for my taste," she explains.

"But Y/N did like him," Rhaena says, folding her arms, watching you with a huge smile.

You roll your eyes, amused.

"I think the same as Baela, I feel like I wouldn't be able to get close to him, he looks very… serious and distant," you say finally, " Beside it's not like I'm going to get the chance, he's just a guy in a band that I liked, just like I like Harry and Zayn from One Direction or Alex Turner from Arctic Monkeys."

"Oh he's so hot," Rhaena says with a little giggle.

"Who of the three of them?" asks Baela.

"The three of them."

You nod, more than agreeing with her.

"Anyway…" says Balea, "Turning our focus back to this band, maybe you can get close to the sexy guitarist tonight."

"Hm?" you say instantly not understanding, looking at her confused.

Then from her bag Baela pulls out what appear to be three rectangular sheets of paper, but when you look closely, they are actually three tickets to who knows what.

"These are tickets to the band's after party," she says excitedly.

At first you don't finish processing anything, watching her like a fool, when Rhaena squeals more than happy and in disbelief, instantly grabbing you both by the arm to rush out of the club in the direction of the party, while you're still processing and asking Baela how she got those tickets.

"Savings," she tells you simply and without much explanation.

Leaving the club is a bit difficult because of all the other girls who are also trying to leave, when the three of you are already arriving at the corresponding small pub where the after party will be, which in fact is right behind the club where the band gave the concert, so getting there doesn't take any time at all.

Once outside the pub, there are other girls waiting to get in, all excited and impatient, some of them have their own band t-shirts and posters for the band to sign. And at the entrance there are two huge men, asking for tickets and complying with security protocol to let them in.

"Help me take a picture with Luke when it's my turn, please," Rhaena asks you.

"Sure."

"Me too," Baela says instantly, "With Jace."

"Okay," you tell her amused.

Then finally all three of you hand the tickets to the seemingly bodyguard, only to enter without any trouble as you go through security protocols as well.

Rhaena shakes you by the arm excitedly, trying to control herself, as the three of you walk into the place, where you instantly recognize those platinum hairs spread all over the pub, already receiving the fans.

The place is considerably spacious, it doesn't feel as suffocating as at the concert and there's definitely more room to move around despite the fact that more girls are constantly coming in to meet the guys.

The bar is free, there is light rock music playing in the background and there are more bodyguards watching out.

You see how all the fans line up and wait their turn with each respective member, being the first to recognize the vocalist, Aegon, who more than smiling signs T-shirts, posters, hats and even phone cases. Also the pianist, Daeron, who takes selfies and also signs.

But when Rhaena identifies Luke, she quickly squeals and prepares to go to him with her T-shirt ready to be signed by him in hand, as does Baela, focusing on Jace.

You walk Rhaena over first, promising Baela to keep an eye out for her for when it's her turn with Jace, then start lining up, trying to calm your cousin's nerves as you sense she'll throw up at any moment or be unable to speak coherently to the bassist.

Then when Rhaena gets distracted on her phone, setting up the camera for pictures, you instantly think of the guitarist and start looking for him.

However, the only ones you see are Aegon, Daeron, Luke and Jace, with no fifth long platinum hair. Confused, you go back over the whole place, really him nowhere to be seen, realizing that there are girls specifically with posters of him, also just like you looking for him, all of them confused and disappointed.

And you don't understand, isn't he supposed to be here too?

You find it strange that out of all of them, it is him especially who doesn't make any appearance, while all the other members do attend to their fans, apparently not worried about the absence of their guitarist or anyone else actually, just the fans.

Inevitably you also start to get disappointed, but you immediately focus on Rhaena, as her turn will be soon and she insists that you help her calm down, giving her encouragement and support.

When the time comes.

The boy, Luke, is actually very sweet, instantly giving his full attention to Rhaena, who acts just as shy as he is, looking excited as the two gently embrace, while he asks her name and introduces himself to her as well.

He signs her T-shirt, also her phone case, all while they both talk, to then move on to the selfie and finally the photo, while you watch with a small smile as the boy's cheeks blush and Rhaena is more than excited and nervous at the same time, hugging him and smiling for the photo.

"This is my cousin, by the way, Y/N," Rhaena shyly introduces you to him as they both separate.

"Oh, hi Y/N, I'm Luke," the boy says to you with a charming smile, not being able to cause you more tenderness, "Thanks for coming."

"Hi," you say smiling, "Nice to meet you, Luke."

You take advantage of the moment and also take a selfie with him and Rhaena, where the three of you come out all smiles, without his cheeks stop blushing, and then pass the next fan.

Rhaena can't stop smiling, again shaking your arm excitedly and on the verge of collapsing with happiness, as she quickly goes through the photos, announcing that she will upload them to her Instagram stories this instant.

You laugh and then she heads off to line up to meet Daeron now, while you now head to Baela.

Unlike with Rhaena and Luke, you can clearly identify your cousin's flirting methods and surprisingly Jace reacts completely to her, looking just as flirty as she does, talking in her ear and both of them very close to each other.

You take their picture and get excited for your cousin, seeing how both of them even after the picture talk to each other, still very close, with that clear interest in the body behavior of both of them, but more of him towards her.

And you don't blame him either, no doubt your cousins are very beautiful, you always tell them every day and they tell you too.

At the end Baela also introduces you with Jace, he also looking very nice and friendly like his little brother, just not as cute, but very sexy.

Then after finishing with Jace, Baela turns to Rhaena, getting her in line to meet Daeron where both of them will now help each other with the pictures, so you head to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools, observing everything and taking the opportunity to order a free drink.

"Can I have a gin and tonic, please?" you ask the bar tender.

"Of course," the man says politely.

While he prepares your drink, you take the opportunity to check your social media, entertaining yourself for a moment and also looking at the time, realizing that it's almost midnight, so you'll probably be home by two in the morning.

You let out a long breath and at that moment the bar tender hands you the gin and tonic, you thank him and start drinking, relaxing and keeping your eye on your cousins.

When at that moment you remember him again, Aemond, so hopefully you look around the place again, looking for him, but you are surprised to see that there is still no sign of him, really confusing you.

The girls who were also looking for him before, line up to take pictures with Aegon, but like you, they also seem to be looking for him, without success.

It continues to seem weird to you and you feel really disappointed, just realizing in that instant how terribly disappointed you are, as if you've been a fan of his for months, when you've only just met him tonight, telling yourself what the hell is wrong with you.

So time passes, you watch as your cousins after meeting Daeron, head to Aegon, nothing really being quick as they take their time with each fan, until you finish your gin and tonic, not ordering anything else as you must be driving and stand at the bar, waiting.

It's until a few minutes later that you decide to go to the restroom, asking the bar tender where they are and he points you to a hallway at the back, instantly thanking him and heading that way.

You see how in the hallway there are four doors and you head to the two at the back, having the signs for the women's restroom and men's restroom, but when you try to open the door, it doesn't open, being occupied, realizing that it's only one restroom instead of several.

You let out a long breath, as this is common in small pubs, having to wait in the hallway, leaning against the wall for the girl inside to come out.

Again you distract yourself with your phone, holding back the urge to pee, trying not to get desperate, glancing from time to time through the hallway entrance at all the girls out there, being able to see your cousins from this distance, not long before it's their turn to meet Aegon.

You bite your lips and continue to wait, when as you are leaning between the wall and under the frame of one of the other doors that you have no idea where they go, it suddenly opens and you almost lose your balance, stabilizing yourself instantly and moving away, watching the person with some surprise and shame.

When the nerves and the surprise invade you completely, seeing that it is him, the guitarist.

He really looks at you without any expression on his face, while you place the appropriate distance between the two of you in this small hallway, still looking at him surprised and like an idiot, instantly telling yourself off to act normal, still watching him carefully.

And how could you not? The man is absolutely beautiful.

Compared to the concert, you have him face to face, his features being more than perfectly visible, admiring the shape of his lips and nose, as if it had been carefully carved, then nervously observing his intense blue eye and his sapphire eye, looking amazing and beautiful to you.

Then you quickly observe his various tattoos on both arms, recognizing a musical note, tree branches, birds, a moon and other figures you don't instantly identify, but you notice perfectly how he has a dragon on his shoulder.

Again you look him in the eye, getting instantly nervous because he is already watching you intensely, looking away from him because of the same nerves, having no idea how to really react since he doesn't move, neither do you and you feel unable to speak, feeling a lump in your throat.

He is simply too handsome and too sexy.

You think in the midst of all your nervousness, when the two of you are simply there, not far away but not too close either, suddenly feeling the hallway too small and feeling out of nowhere suffocated, not understanding what's wrong with you.

"Are there many people out there?"

He asks you suddenly, definitely not expecting that, as he stands still in the doorway, watching you, while you barely process the sound of his voice, watching him like an idiot for a moment.

React!

Your mind reprimands you, really not wanting to embarrass yourself with him, much less when he's just asked you something.

You clear your throat and control yourself, to look back towards the center of the pub, where there are indeed a lot of girls and there are many especially who want to see him. You bite your lips and return your nervous, attentive gaze to him, realizing that he hasn't even come out into the hallway, keeping himself hidden in that room.

"Yes," you finally say to him, trying to sound like a normal person, not letting your nerves completely get the better of you.

He lets out a long breath, then averts his gaze from yours and you watch as he carefully peeks out of the doorframe, this catching your attention, as he inspects everything and honestly looks a little irritated, which you don't understand why.

And at that moment you don't know if you should, considering he still wants to keep himself hidden, but also Baela's voice tells you: bitch, take advantage and talk to him, you literally have him right in front of you!

Yes, that's something she would tell you if she saw you now.

"You're not a fan of being among so many people?"

You ask him softly, overcoming your nerves, but again you feel your heart leap in your chest as he looks at you again.

"Not much," he answers you.

And at that moment, you only admire more of his handsome features he offers you as you stand face to face with his profile, actually making you very nervous. And his answer actually makes sense to you.

He on stage is very calm and quiet, so now having to be among all the fans, it really doesn't seem to be his strongest suit.

"Still a lot of girls are looking forward to seeing you," you tell him softly, "They all look very excited."

You see how he frowns a bit, not saying anything back to you, which alerts you a bit since you really don't want to ruin this opportunity by talking to him, even though it seems you already have, but… what did you say wrong?

He continues to look at you like that, so intensely, when then you see perfectly how he looks you up and down, definitely making you more nervous than before, and then you see how he puts his hands in his front pockets and leans on the door frame casually.

The image couldn't have infarcted you more, as he does everything in a calculated manner, movements so simple that they already completely steal your breath away, only for him to tilt his head and continue watching you with that intensity, but now also curious.

"And you don't?"

He asks you with that soft but so manly voice that makes you part your lips, completely weakening your legs, watching him for a moment without understanding while he watches you expectantly, but still with that sexy demeanor.

"You weren't expecting to see me?"

Oh my God.

You think, unable to answer him, your voice right now not working, much less when he continues with his burning gaze in your direction, now having no idea how to behave.

However, you know you must be behaving like a fool in his eye, so you force yourself to answer him but truthfully.

"Actually," you start to say, trying to control your nerves, "I'm waiting for the person in the restroom to come out," you point your gaze to the door, to again watch him.

Then he too watches the restroom door for a moment, to again focus on you, watching perfectly as he presses his lips together in a soft, thin line and then you see what appears to be a small, barely visible grin appear.

And even though you didn't see him smile much during the concert, nor does he do it in his band's promotional photos, now that you see him do it and only meters away from you, the man couldn't look more beautiful to you.

"Hm," is all he says, turning back to watching you like that, his gaze completely attentive and burning, all his attention on you.

Holy shit.

That's all you can think, watching him without taking your eyes off him, just as he does with you, again feeling the space suddenly very small and the air hot.

When suddenly, you see perfectly well how he opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward, calling your full attention, but at the moment he does that, a girl at the beginning of the hallway shouts his name at the sight of him.

And that's when chaos breaks out.

The girl quickly heads towards him, excited, instantly being followed by a bunch of other girls, all holding caps and t-shirts for him to sign, wasting no time and completely breaking the spell between the two of you.

You watch Aemond again and he's already watching you, but instantly he starts giving attention to all the girls, being surrounded by all of them, to which you can't help but feel disappointed because the moment is over, since... you don't know what the fuck was going on a few seconds ago with him but you were enjoying it.

When at that moment the door to the women's restroom finally opens, a girl coming out of it but now being difficult to get back to the center of the pub because of Aemond and all his girls obstructing the way.

You head for the restroom, suddenly feeling that same attentive and burning gaze on your back again for a few seconds as you close the door behind you. You take all the time in the world, trying to calm your heart rate and trying to stop feeling your hot skin, processing what happened out there with him, really taking a considerable amount of time.

You realize you need Baela's advice, thinking about texting her right now and getting her to give you techniques so you don't get nervous, but you doubt she'll text back if she's still getting to know the rest of the members of the band.

However, you don't know if you should ask Aemond for a picture or not, not being very sure about it, but you know that if you don't ask him for a picture or an autograph, you will regret it tomorrow.

You let out a sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror and telling yourself that you have to control, that you shouldn't act like a fool and that you should behave as normal as possible, not letting your nerves get the better of you.

In the end you don't text anyone, you gather your courage and finally come out of the restroom.

The first thing you see is how Aemond is still there, only now with few girls, in fact finishing signing an autograph for them, to which you watch him carefully and attentively, again having no idea whether to go back to the center of the pub to find your cousins and get their advice before going back to him or ask for his autograph here, taking advantage of it.

But you don't even have anything he can sign for you, except your phone case.

However, the time to think and decide is over when the girls take a picture with him and then start to walk away, all of them looking at him with that excited gaze and of complete desire, while Aemond looks at them one last time and... he watches you again.

And there you have your nerves again, but you don't let them get the better of you, lowering your gaze for a moment, thinking quickly about what to say to him, feeling again that tension between the two of you now that you are alone again in this small hallway.

And at this, Aemond decides to act fast, considering the after party isn't over yet.

"Do you want me to sign something for you?"

He asks you while directing all his attention towards you, with those fucking movements he makes that aren't that big of a deal but completely steal your breath, standing completely still and watching him carefully.

Talk, act, react!

Your fed up and annoyed mind tells you, also Baela's voice if she saw you at this moment, so that's what you do, however, again you respond with the truth and with shame.

"Yes, I'd love to," you look at him nervous, "But I don't really have anything for you to sign."

"You bought tickets to our after party and you didn't bring anything the band can sign for you?"

Oh God.

You think on the verge of collapsing in embarrassment, as he again looks at you between slightly confused and curious.

"Well, I didn't know my cousin had bought tickets to meet you. It was actually her and my other cousin who brought me to the concert," you explain, trying not to show how really nervous you are, as he tilts his head in your direction.

"So you're not a fan," he assumes and you're so embarrassed that he's right.

"But... you were still amazing tonight," you tell him instantly, being terribly honest, "I liked your music and will definitely listen to it often."

He nods slowly in your direction, apparently now understanding you, watching you even with that curiosity and again that small, barely visible grin appearing on his lips, watching him run you from head to toe, not being able to make you any more nervous than you already are.

"Hm," he says in nod, "That explains why you didn't jump on me the second I opened the door."

You let out a nervous little laugh, looking away from him for a second.

"Disappointed?" you ask him a bit amused.

"Just a little."

You smile softly in his direction, not showing your teeth, as he continues to make you nervous and make you feel as if the space between you is very short and the air is hot as he continues to watch you like that, as if inspecting you and as if he wants to see right through you.

However, you know that the moment can be broken at any moment if more girls come looking for him, so you don't get your hopes up too high. When suddenly he averts his gaze and points you to the door through which he left a few moments ago.

"It's our break room," he tells you, "There are new t-shirts and posters in there, if you want I can sign one of them and give it to you."

Oh my...

You feel the excitement run through you, definitely not expecting that, starting to feel your heart rate accelerate, but you instantly get yourself under control and tell yourself that no way are you going to pass up the opportunity.

"Well, if it's no problem," you nod to him.

He starts backing away, as he heads for the door.

"Come."

And you don't hesitate to follow him.

He opens the door for you, watching you intently and again with that intensity, to which you again feel like your heart will probably jump out of your chest, from excitement and also from nerves, to finally enter the room.

You don't even know why but a shiver runs through your whole body, bristling your skin, as he closes the door behind you and walks past you, his arm gently brushing yours, feeling for an instant his burning skin.

He heads towards a table, while you watch him attentively and take a look at the room, not big but not small either, seeing how there are numerous backpacks, sound equipment, tables, chairs, a couch and also a table with snacks and bottles of water.

There are also the guitar cases, identifying his guitar on the couch, where he was probably sitting playing before, hiding from everyone out there. The noise here is less, you hear more the background music than voices, actually this space being very calm.

"What do you prefer?"

You suddenly hear him say to you, instantly causing you to stop surveying the room and focus on him, who is already watching you intently, pointing out the caps, t-shirts or posters on the table.

"Or do you want all three?" he observes you with that grin.

Focus, Y/N. You can do it.

You tell yourself, not wanting him to affect you any more than he's already affecting you or you'll ruin this moment by letting yourself get carried away by nerves, which is just what you don't want.

So you try not to focus too much on his mannerisms when he's talking to you.

"The shirt is fine," you point out to him.

You're not a big fan of the caps and posters you like but on this occasion... you're going more for the T-shirt.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

You choose the T-shirt in your size while he picks up a pen, then you hand it to him and he starts writing.

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats slowly as he writes it down.

This sends a wave of excitement and nerves throughout your body because of the way he has said it, concentrating on his writing, while you watch him intently, still finding the shape of his face and also his hair majestic, looking more majestic having him right in front of you.

You really don't understand what's wrong with him but God... he's really beautiful.

"So you're not a fan hm?"

He says to you as he finishes signing and hands you the shirt, instantly placing a nervous little smile, taking it.

"Actually no. My cousins brought me, they were both very excited and needed someone to drive."

At this he again looks interested and turns around to lean against the edge of the table casually, crossing his arms, watching you, while you stand next to him and almost have to lift your whole head up to him so you can look him in the eye as you talk.

"You don't live in Brooklyn?"

You shake your head.

"Manhattan."

He frowns slightly.

"Manhattan?"

He repeats and you nod, watching him curiously for a moment as you watch him think in silence for a few seconds, then again watching you curious and confused at the same time.

"And why your cousins didn't buy tickets for the concert we're giving there next Friday?"

"Oh," you go blank for a moment, but react instantly, remembering, "Well, they did want to buy tickets, but they had credit card problems and by the time they fixed it, all the tickets were sold out and they bought the Brooklyn ones," you explain.

He doesn't say anything else to you for a few seconds, watching you intently, as he has been watching you all along, so intently that you feel your legs go weak, to which you nervously avert your gaze from him and look at the T-shirt in your hands, seeing his autograph.

And all you can think about is how crazy Baela and Rhaena will go when you tell them this.

"Pick something for your cousins," he says suddenly, making you look at him again, "I'll sign it too."

"Oh, sure, thanks."

You tell him with a nervous little smile to start choosing, beginning to believe that you'll never really stop feeling nervous in his presence, much less if you're both alone in this room.

For Rhaena you choose a poster for her, as she's a big fan of having lots of them of her favorite artists and sticking them all over her room, while for Baela you also choose a t-shirt.

You notice how Aemond walks away for a moment as you look for Baela's size, then return and begin to sign that for your cousins as well, again watching or rather subtly admiring his face of concentration as he begins to write.

"Here," he gives you everything, finishing.

"Thank you very much,"

You tell him sincerely, as he straightens up completely again, setting the pen down on the table and leaning back against the edge of it.

"You're welcome," he nods in your direction.

You look away, having no idea how to say goodbye to him, you don't even want the moment to end even though his gaze on you makes you feel so nervous, but for obvious reasons, your cousins must already be looking for you and you know he must be out here to attend to more of his fans.

"Hum... then I'll see you... out there, I guess," you smile at him, starting to walk away, "This was very kind of you."

"Wait."

He says to you suddenly, stopping your step, standing in front of him, as you watch him take a few more steps towards you, completely alerting you, but seeing him take a hand to the back of his pants, watching as he takes something from his pocket, confusing you but completely getting your attention.

Then his eye watches you back, his gaze so intense and so penetrating, as you watch him with your lips parted, this suddenly closeness suffocating you too much, not helping anything that the two of you are here alone.

However, he places his hand between the two of you, handing you something and when you look at it, confusion overtakes you further, seeing that they are tickets to his concert as they have the words 'Dragon Dynasty" printed in large letters on them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, next Friday," he says softly, still hand them to you.

And even after explaining, you still don't finish processing anything, as he continues waiting for you to take them, while you continue to stand still and watch him like an idiot, slowly beginning to understand.

"B-but...

"Take them, Y/N," he says again, softly, watching you expectantly.

Take them? Just like that? For free?

You immediately deny, staring at him in confusion.

"No, but... I-I...wait, you...

"It's fine," she assures you, interrupting you.

"But you can't do this or can you?" you ask him totally bewildered and surprised, not believing it.

"Of course I can, in fact I'm doing it now," he tells you as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

But you continue to watch him confused, not understanding why he is doing this with you especially, again feeling the nerves invade you and the hot air hit you mercilessly, not being able to think straight.

"W-what? But...

"What is it?" he asks taking a step closer to you, stopping your heart for a second, "Don't you want to see me again?"

My God...

No. You can't do it anymore. It's right there when you lose it completely.

The way he has asked you, watching you completely attentively and with that barely visible grin, his body starting to invade your personal space, slowly leaning towards you, the space between you both ceasing to exist and all of him embracing you completely.

That delicious manly cologne hits your nostrils, also the slight smell of cigarette, everything about him being so alluring, so sexy, so mysterious and dangerous somehow.

And he does it all in such a calculating way... he doesn't even do it all that fast, he does it all slow, just the way he wants to catch you, while you slowly start to let yourself be carried away by him as well.

With your heart beating too fast, you look at the tickets in his hand and slowly raise your eyes to look at him, when he is already looking at you and just like that.

Don't you want to see me again?

His question repeats in your mind, at that moment no longer taking anything else into account. Because he is clearly flirting with you, and why do you not do the same?

"Do you want to see me again?"

You ask him in your soft, low voice, to which he only leans a little closer to you, that grin returning.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He tells you in the same way, his voice soft, low and completely calculating, his answer surprising and thrilling you, watching perfectly as he watches between your eyes and your lips, his eye completely full of desire, while you do the same.

You wonder what it will feel like to kiss him, how he will reciprocate, if soft or hard and if you will also feel his hands on your body, caressing you.

The atmosphere feels tense somehow, as you both start to invade each other's personal space, at the same time as your hand takes the tickets, all hot air and suddenly feeling that need to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him closer to you.

However, just as the small distance between the two of you starts to disappear, with all his delicious scent and his whole alluring body enveloping you completely, just at that damn moment the door suddenly opens.

You jump all the way back, scared and surprised, as the two of you stare at the door and Aegon is the responsible for the interruption.

"Dude, why are you still here? Cole's going to kill you if you don't come out this instant, you know? It's crazy out there, there's girls crying, they want to see you and you-oh....

He stops talking suddenly, barely in that instant realizing your presence as well even though you're standing next to Aemond, feeling embarrassment run through all your body, as he realizes what was probably going on here when he watches you both with his lips parted, so you lower your gaze in shame and bite your lips.

"My bad, sorry," he says and then slowly places a mischievous smile, now watching you and Aemond continuously, "I interrupted something, didn't I?"

You listen as Aemond clears his throat, no longer feeling the closeness of his body against yours, while you feel the embarrassment more.

"No," he tells him in a more serious voice and nothing compared to how he was speaking to you before.

"Oh," Aegon says again and you pluck up the courage to finally get out of here.

"Thank you," you say to Aemond without even looking at him, hurrying out of the room.

With all the things he signed in your hands and also the tickets, you don't even look at Aegon when you pass by his side, feeling so embarrassed and starting to feel your cheeks very hot, not bearing to be in his presences anymore.

And you don't even look back, you just run away, not being able to believe that you were about to make out with him, the sexy guitarist, Aemond.

You immediately look around like crazy for your cousins, seeing that Baela is taking a picture of Rhaena with Jace, so you quickly head towards them, acting normal, waiting for them to finish and by the time they do, you hand them the t-shirt and the poster.

"Where were you?" asks Baela confused.

"In the restroom and I got this for you," you say without much detail, the memory of Aemond's beautiful face near you still so fresh.

"Why are you so red?" asks you now Rhaena confused.

"I drank a gin and tonic," you lie, acting totally unconcerned with Aemond's lips about to touch yours still present .

"Did you talk to the sexy guitarist?" asks you Baela excited.

"Yes," you say acting unconcerned.

"And?"

"Nothing," you say with a shrug and she looks at you disappointed.

If only she knew.

But nothing ends there. Both of them now want a picture with Aemond even though they already have each his autograph, so you decide to wait again at the bar and they follow you, waiting for him to show up, you for anything in the world wanting to be near him again with your cousins around.

When then Aemond finally comes out of that hallway, appearing in the center of the pub with Aegon by his side, instantly you and him exchanging glances without even expecting it at all. And even with the embarrassment, you quickly avert your gaze from him, as the both begin to be surrounded by more girls, among them your cousins.

You're not sure exactly how much time passes, until finally Baela and Rhaena are satisfied and the three of you leave the pub, with half an hour left before the after party is over, but it's too late now and you have to drive.

However, before the three of you get in the car, you pull out the tickets that Aemond gave you for free and extend them to them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, Aemond gave them to me," you say and then head for the driver's seat door, unlocking the doors.

And then all you hear as you start to leave your cousins behind are their screams.

During the whole ride, neither of them leave you alone, wanting to know exactly in detail what happened with the guitarist, Baela more than anything else feeling offended that you lied to her when she asked you if anything happened with him.

But when you tell them about everything and also about how the two of them almost kissed, she doesn't feel upset anymore and screams excitedly together with Rhaena, both surprised and unable to believe it, also unable to believe about the free tickets.

Luckily the questions don't last for the whole ride, so you also have time to think about him, Aemond, everything that happened with him and pretty much everything about him not leaving your thoughts alone as you drive from Brooklyn to Manhattan.

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