#i have to watch more videos of her performing in the new outfits i was too distracted by ttpd yesterday

[titsthedamnseason]

wait i just realized if she isn’t singing the one what the hell song does she sing sitting on top of the cabin

[manikas-whims]

Hellooo!

I would love for headcannons of the LADS boys with a Latin reader (Mexican, Colombian, Salvadoran, etc) who loooves to dance and always goes to gatherings (quinceñeras, family bbq’s/ parties, etc). They’re very good at dancing and love to just be on the floor feeling the music. Would love to see their reactions to you having a big family or trying out the food or how you dance and maaaybe convince them to do so too?

hiii, thanks for the lovely request! i must admit i possess limited knowledge about latin cultures but i do hope that you like these..♡

LADS men with a Latin Reader

RAFAYEL

🌊 Remember he told you that he's fluent in many languages? Yeah, he probably already knows and speaks your language well. And even if he doesn't, he knows the commonly used phrases. He'll also ask you to help and correct his pronunciations and grammar.

🌊 He is just like water— easily blends with your family members, entertaining everyone with his lively attitude and forms an instant connection with each one. He's always surrounded by at least 4-5 of your family members.

🌊 He's enthusiastic about your culture. He questions you on why certain rituals are performed in what ways and he loves to learn, and try things for himself. He plans to incorporate it all in his next piece that he's gonna dedicate to you.

🌊 He won't hesitate from the variety of food and drinks offered by your family elders, and will definitely try some of the local alcoholic beverages. He's complimented your mother for her cooking, and by the time you both go back, he's gained a few pounds of weight.

🌊 When Rafayel sees you dancing at a family gathering, he matches your energy on the dance floor. He may not know all the moves but he'll watch you and learn, moving his body in tandem with yours. He might goof around and make you laugh alot. Your family loves him even more for it.

XAVIER

⭐ He’s learnt a few terms here and there from you but he can't speak your language. Though he LOVES hearing you speak it. And even more when you call him nicknames in your native tongue. Definitely gets a lil horny and asks you to use them in bed.

⭐ At first he comes off as quiet and aloof to your family but they slowly take a liking to him. You realize how good of a narrator Xavier is when you see your family members sitting around him in circles at night as he weaves magical tales about princes from distant planets.

⭐ He's a curious kitty. He buys himself flyers about the local specialties of your hometown, and even books tickets to all the historical sites he'd like to visit with you. He enjoys hearing myths about the deities of your lands.

⭐ He loves the food! Every time he experiences a new flavour or spice, you see his eyes light up in delight. He asks help from your mother and other family ladies to help him with some recipes because he wants to cook you some of your hometown food. And all the ladies are swooning. He also enjoys the occasional gossip with them.

⭐ His eyes seem to follow your every move when he sees you dancing. He's recorded a bunch of videos but if asked to join, he's quite hesitant. Though the moment you drag him on the dance floor, he complies. Might step on your foot once or twice, and feel embarrassed about it but overall, he's a fast learner.

ZAYNE

❄️ He doesn't speak your language but he's very keen on learning from you. You deliberately make him say the cheesiest stuff in your language, sometimes even a little naughty things. And when he sees you giggling, he chuckles and calls you childish for pulling such pranks on him.

❄️ Your family immediately takes a liking to him. He's responsible and dependable, and they are happy that you have someone so reliable by your side. They also come to take his advice on every little health related thing when they learn he's a doctor. But they also make a lot of health jokes with him because he's easy to tease.

❄️ He loves hearing about your culture. He complies when you make him try on some of the traditional outfits for men, and is quite pleased to know that you find him even more handsome in them. And he's left awestruck when he sees you in your traditional clothes.

❄️ Zayne does enjoy the variety of flavors in your culture’s food. Though he's even more eager to try out the local sweet dishes. He loves how the recipe varies from hand to hand, and in every household. And he likes the differing tastes of the same sweets.

❄️ He loves watching you dance. He tries to deny you when you ask him to join because he isn't very confident. But after a little convincing, he will comply because it's impossible for him to say no to you. He's awkward on the dance floor but gets loads of encouragement not just from you but all your family members. In the end, you place his arms around your waist and guide his movements, your laughter making him forget his hesitance.

SYLUS

🐦‍⬛ You assume he doesn't know your language and try to prank him by using some bad and naughty words for him but he smirks and responds in the same language, leaving you shocked. He's not fluent but he knows enough to engage in conversations.

🐦‍⬛ Your family is suspicious about his overall persona but soon realize he's quite alright. They are thrilled by the fact that he can sing, and he is definitely pushed by the elders into singing at the family gathering. At least 4 of your cousins have a crush on him.

🐦‍⬛ Just like his grasp on the language, he's quite knowledgeable in your culture. He especially loves the music, some of his favourite musicians being latin. And he most likely knows some of the old songs by heart.

🐦‍⬛ Since he's quite good at cooking, he's given free access to the house kitchen. Your mother and the other family ladies find it charming. They like to discuss seasonings and spices with him, and want him to assist in the arrangements of food. They compliment him for every new dish he learns.

🐦‍⬛ He's not just a good singer but a dancer too. It's surprising when he follows you on the dance floor and begins to match you beat for beat. You don't realize when but you end up having a little dance off between the two of you until he gets bored of competing and pulls you to him so you two can dance together.

» MASTERLIST «

[hvlplvss]

| LIGHT SHOWER

colby brock x singer!reader

summary: in which, colby brock is watching the opening show of his girlfriends tour, PORTALS, and he comes to realise a song is dedicated purely to him.

warnings: pure fluff. that’s all i have to say at this point. small mention of previous bad relationships

authors note: inspired by the song LIGHT SHOWER by melanie martinez. ur baso melanie martinez in this lmao. absolutely love her so i had to. but please just search on tiktok or smth ‘melanie martinez portals’ so you have an idea!!!

y/n has released her fourth album ever this year. PORTALS. something completely different from the rest of her albums.

a new era, most would call it. after creating the K-12 film, it took deep consideration and thought of the next steps in her career. which is when she came up with the idea of the fairy/nymph creature her music persona would become.

exploring this route, changed her entire aesthetic and when she disappeared off of social media for ages people began to speculate.

she’d even stopped appearing in her boyfriends youtube videos. y/n use to frequently take part in sam and colby’s ghost hunting videos, but after finishing her K-12 tour, she disappeared.

there was rare occurrences where colby would post her on instagram, only because y/n had agreed. but other than that, no one knew what was going on.

but here she was now with her fairy outfit on. the mask with four eyes, and the big fairy ears that stopped near her neck. the wig and the costume which were all purely based on the aesthetic of the album.

denver, colorado. the first show of the PORTALS tour. no one knew what to expect.

even colby didn’t know what to expect. he wasn’t even allowed to listen to the songs yet. y/n wanted to surprise him with all the music when he first watched the tour.

so he had no clue what to expect either. but to say he was excited was an understatement.

the boy was in awe of what his girlfriend had created. her imagination being the biggest ever. and no one seemed to be able to surpass her alternative, yet insanely creative ways.

sam and colby had agreed on taking a small break, while y/n made this huge leap. sam would of course go to the first concert with colby, accompanying his best friend, and supporting his other close friend.

the boys had brought a camcorder, so they could capture little things from y/n’s show on a cute little vhs film, which colby knew y/n would adore. and he was right.

colby and y/n walked slightly in front of sam backstage, holding hands, while sam secretly recorded the couple on the vhs.

the two swung their hands back and forth, colby being careful of the gloves which y/n wore to add to the look.

“it’s crazy, y’know?” colby said.

y/n looked up at him, “what’d you mean?”

“just, you. like i remember watching you at the last shows of crybaby and now you’re here. and i get to experience all of this with you. i just feel so lucky to have someone as smart and creative as you,” he explained.

y/n smiled, squeezing colby’s hand as they approached the wings of the stage, “you gonna go stand in front of the barricade?” y/n asked. colby nodded, “try to not to get taken down by crazy people,” y/n joked.

colby laughed, looking down at his girlfriend. “i am so so lucky,” he repeated. he gently pressed a kiss to her hair, careful of the mask, which was hand-painted to perfection. “i love you y/n, truly,”

y/n smiled, “i love you colby,” she was handed her microphone, as he began walking away, sending her a little cute wave as he disappeared.

now this song just meant even more for her to be able to perform.

sam had stuck in the wings, while colby had disappeared in front of the stage, waving at the few fans who managed to secure spaces at barricade. he held the camcorder in one hand, getting ready to record the first snippet as soon as he could.

“hello earthlings. it’s me, crybaby. i know you can’t see me. but i’m still here. wanna know a secret? there’s still a piece of me trying to become an angel. look into the light and repeat after me. our energy can’t be destroyed, we find our light within the void. we’ve been here before, we can do it again. the evolution will never end. we are protected, we are immortal. and tonight, we step into the portal,”

a note began and y/n stepped onto stage in her fairy form. “death is life, is death, is life, is death, is life, is,” drum beats.

colby picked up the camcorder as his girlfriend stepped forward, closer to the edge of the stage.

he looked in awe of the girl, taking in every little bit about her and how far she had come. the people she was able to bring together.

she was nearing the end of the fourth song on the album, ‘faerie soiree’. quite an upbeat song, which then faded into a slow ending, so far colby’s favourite song out the four he had heard.

watching his girlfriend dance across the stage, feeling her music so dearly. as the song ended, y/n’s four dancers walked off of the stage, leaving her alone.

new music started, the intro beginning to play. the girl walked forward to the edge of the stage, going down to her knees, sitting on her feet.

she sat in the centre of the stage, reaching out for colby’s hand, who gladly held on. y/n moved the microphone updward towards her lips. she looked at the boy in front of her.

“you are the light I've been searchin' for forever. feels like, man, i’ve really never felt the rain. buried in the desert, didn't think i’d push through the dirt. you just cleansed me like a waterfall, you came”

colby had then realised, there was a song written for him. y/n never fully wrote songs for someone. she always wrote them based on a broader subject.

however colby, didn’t want to jump to conclusions immediately, so he just continued to stare directly at his girlfriend, who didn’t take her eyes off of him.

“i’m screamin' like a kettle on a stove. you cranked the heat up, i was cold. my past grew mold around my heart. and all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared. it’s madness, i’m not used to all this water, love, it's true,”

this was what confirmed it for colby. as cocky as it sounds. y/n was singing for him. she was singing to him and only him.

he knew all about her past and how she was treated previously. and he’d promised to give her everything he could, treat her with the upmost respect and love. and that’s what he did.

“but you made me want to. plan out my last days on earth, eating you. ooh-ooh-ooh. the tips of your teeth fit perfect in me. you’re a shower of light i’d devour, anyday of the week. baby, cleanse me,”

the song had finished, and if colby was lying, he’d say he didn’t cry. but that boy had tears in his eyes and people who were standing off to the side behind him, could tell.

y/n let go off his hand, blew a kiss and ran off stage, preparing for her next song. colby wiped his left eye, to stop the tear that was so close to running down his face.

as the dancers came back on, dancing while y/n prepared to come on for her next song, colby picked up the camcorder and pretend like he didn’t just fall further in love with the girl.

colby assumed it was nearing the end of the show, as y/n was now finishing her 15th song, so he left from the barricade and walked back to the wings of the stage, meeting sam, who stood with his phone out, recording her from the sides.

sam noticed colby’s oncoming presence, “you alright there, colby?” sam asked, putting his phone down and turning to his friend.

“yeah, just you know, taking everything in,” he nodded.

“saw you shed a couple of tears down there, bro,” sam patted colby on the back, but he shoved his arm off.

“shut up,” he said in embarrassment.

sam rolled his eyes, “it’s fine colby. when y/n came off stage, she was crying. not in a bad way or anything. i think she just can’t believe everything, and having you here after everything she went through,” sam explained.

colby smiled slightly, looking down to the ground, “i really love her you know,” colby spoke, his eyes darting to the stage watching y/n finish her final song.

“and she loves you, so much,” sam replied, “she called you her light shower or whatever,”

[thetombedspirit]

So... I could be totally wrong, but based on the new promo pictures for Avatar 3, I think the Ash People are going to be less of a tribe and more of a cult.

I mean, just look at this image for starters. The ones one surrounding Varang are wearing some freaky looking masks, and Varang seems to be wearing an outfit made entirely of Na'vi braids. That is insane and defiantly makes me afraid of this woman. So no wonder she and Quaritch team up at some point.

You can actually see glimpses of Lyle and Quaritch in the back here as Varang introduces a new kind of creature, which is also pretty dope.

In fact, you can see a LOT of Na'vi here weilding guns, like WHAT?!?!

Which brings me to another image that I think really proves that not only are these people a cult, but they're a cult that worships the Sky People.

Yep. They have air balloon ships. We literally have Na'vi Sky Pirates.

All jokes aside though, what I think is going on is that the Ash People are a Cargo Cult, a group of indigenous people who see bizarre looking strangers coming from a foreign land (or in this case, planet) and basically liken them to Gods (for better details, I recommend watching Game Theory's Minecraft Cult video.)

Anyway, what I'm getting at here is that Na'vi like Varang probably were inspired by the Sky People and their giant metal ikran that could fit more then one person, and their weapons and tried to recreate them, disregarding the way of Eywa, which likely didn't go over well with the other Na'vi. Especially after Grace's School; they were probably banished when those particular Na'vi still supported them after the fact.

But when the RDA was first defeated and sent away, Varang and those Na'vi, like the Cargo Cults of Earth, tried anything to get them to return. They wear masks over their faces, they recreated their ships, they teach themselves how to use their weapons and basically making menaces of themselves to other Na'vi.

And so, Varang become the Olo'eykte of a new clan. A clan that worships the innovations and technologies of the Sky People.

And I bet they would be very excited if they were ever to come across Miles and Lyle, humans that have been reborn into Na'vi, hence why they start working together, which would be a scary thought to think about.

But it would make sense too, because, before, when I still thought of the Ash People as a legitimate clan, I never understood why a clan would be supportive of what they're doing if they worshipped Eywa and help them attack other Na'vi. Like why side with Quaritch when he wants to help the RDA perform a hostile takeover and not Jake, who wants to preserve the Na'vi home and way of life. But it does make sense to me, if they were ostracized by their people for their continued adoration of their techniques.

In fact, if I was to really dig into this, this might explain Teylan and his fascination with human tech too. If others are just as intrigued by their tech, then so would he.

So yeah, that is my reasoning for why I think the Ash People are a cult and why they would align themselves with the RDA. Please let me know what you think and I can't wait to see this movie!!!💙

EDIT!!

So these airships...

What I may have misinterpreted as a Ash People replication of ships may actually belong to another tribe that's to feature in the film. The Windtraders.

And that makes sense with this image of Neytiri and her Ikran flying beside them. The Ikran's calm, Neytiri has no weapon ready, so I can only assume that the Windtraders are a tribe of nomadic merchants, who travel from place to place and, as the name implies, trade with other clans.

Maybe one such clan they trade with is the Metkayina, and that's how we'll get introduced to this clan and their way of living.

I still %100 believe that the Ash People are a cult, but I just wanted to clarify my mishap.

And who knows? Maybe the Ash People are scheming to steal their ships so that they can really imitate the Sky People and that's how the Sully's confront them.

Be a good way to kick start the plot is all I'm thinking.

[simphornies]

Ahdjsksjsjkssb I love your Vox content and I was wondering if I could request a Vox x reader (preferably fem) who performs songs and dances online, they're like a big shot social media star(who's besties with Vel) and often ropes the Vees into making online content with her(games, dance challenges, reactions, etc. when they're free of course) and it's free PR that some sinners like watching because it's just funny to watch the 3 overlords + reader doing goofy shit. Bonus points if you write about sinners just #shipping Vox and Reader because they have good chemistry XD

A/N: I was listening to Circus by Britney Spears so I may have made the reader a little flirt :) Also this one's a little short so I apologize

Word count: 934

Social Sensation - Vox x Reader

“Vox!” You whined, clinging onto his leg. “No! I’m not letting you plug controllers into me so you can play video games for a video.” He groaned as he repeated himself for the fifth time.

“Vox! Please! The sinners! They want it!” You begged. “This one time and I won’t ask you for it again!”

He sighs, giving in just to get you to stop. And also because he knew you wouldn’t let go until he agreed. “Fine. You get 15 minutes.”

“...20?” You asked.

“Don’t push it.”

.

Vox had the most deadpan expression on his face while you were livestreaming on Voxstagram, completely unamused at the fact that there’s three different cords plugged into the back of his head. “Vox, put your fuckin’ face away! It’s throwing me off.” Velvette complained, having fallen off of the platform. The three of you were playing Super Smash, as per request of the audience. He groaned and hid his own face on his own screen.

You, Velvette and Valentino were screaming at each other during the whole game. “Valentino! Move your head out the way I can’t see!” You groaned. “Well I can’t fucking see either!” He yelled back, eyes squinting at the screen.

After what felt like forever to Vox, you win the game. You grabbed your phone and smiled, “Thanks for joining in you guys! I’ll see you all tomorrow for another stream!” You put an arm around Vox and put the camera on him. “A big thanks to Vox! For letting us use him for the game today!”

The comments were flooded with a bunch of thanks to Vox, cheering him on for being a real one and promising to buy more VoxTek devices. You signed off and ended the stream. Vox took out the cords with no hesitation as soon as you did. “That was not 15 minutes.” Vox squinted at you, arms crossed.

“I’m sorry, Voxy~” You giggled and laid your head on his lap, happily scrolling on your phone, “I got you more sales and I got more followers. A win-win!”

He huffed, “I get sales either way.” He was full on pouting now. You reached up and pinched the side of his screen, “Aw. Don’t be mad. You know you love me. Besides, you’ve been getting more sales ever since I started crashing here with you guys and you can’t tell me I’m wrong.”

For a brief second, you swore his usual blue screen started to fade into a red before going back to blue. “I guess you’re right on that.” He lets out a sigh and relaxes into the couch, “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I gotta go tomorrow to the Lust Ring.” You showed him a photo of the poster Asmodeus posted on his Voxstagram. “I’m performing!”

“The Lust Ring?!” His voice cracked before he cleared his throat, “That’s a…You’re gonna fine by yourself?” “What?” You grinned cheekily, “You scared someone’s gonna fuck me there instead of you~” You teased as his screen turned a little red.

“What! No!” He huffed, “I was just wondering if you’d want an escort or something.”

“Aww. If you wanted to come with me, you could’ve just said so!” You giggled and got up.

“Don’t get it twisted! It’s for business.” He crossed his arms.

“Right.” You winked, “Business. Anyways I’ll see you there. Gotta meet up with Velvette for my new outfit.”

.

Vox sat in one of the seats closer to the front. He stayed on his phone during the other performances only putting it away after you were announced to come up next.

“And it’s my pleasure to announce our final performance for the night! The darling, Y/N!” Asmodeus stepped away from the spotlight as it shines on you.

You began your performance immediately making eye contact with Vox. A seductive smile on your face the whole time. You danced seductively while you sang. Vox didn’t take his eyes off of you, glued to your intoxicating display. His eyes followed your hands running up your hips and to your chest and through your hair. He was enamored.

.

Your performance went viral online, plenty of people talked about the dress Velvette made for you which boosted her sales making her very happy. Vox’s jaw dropped expression and your wink at him went crazy too, people shipping the two of you together.

“Vox!” You yelled, catching his attention, “The sinners loved the performance. I’m so glad you came and watched it!”

“Y-Yeah! It was amazing as always, my dear.” He grinned, “You’re very lovable, Y/N.” He took a sip of his coffee, watching you gleefully scroll through your phone.

You showed him the comments on your phone, “They love us too, baby~” You teased. He choked on his drink and looked at all of the people commenting under a picture of him staring at you on the stage. “I think you should give what the people and I want and go on a date with me.” You winked.

“A date?!” He coughed, “You want to go on a date with me?”

“For an allegedly smart overlord, you’re a little slow, huh?” You giggled and left him a kiss on his screen. “That show was for you. I’ll see you later tonight~” You snapped a photo next to him rebooting and posted it to your socials with ‘Told him we’re going on a date tonight! <3 Love ya @ Vox <3’ as the caption. Your comments were flooded with excited fans going insane over the development. You giggled and walked away, leaving Vox to deal with your confession by himself.

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Coachella)

Summary: You attend Coachella 2024 with Harry, Mitch, and Sarah. Between discovering new music, meeting people you would never have dreamed of meeting, and spending time with your three significant others, you'd say it's a pretty perfect day.

AN: Thank you to @ba8ygal for requesting this! It was very fun to write, especially with Harry currently making the rounds attending a bunch of festivals!

ALSO! I took some creative liberty with the Coachella schedule and blended Friday and Saturday's shows so it makes sense for the story.

Previous Chapters: Can be found here!

Word Count: 1.8K

CW: alcohol consumption

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One regret you have in life is not going to Coachella in 2022. It’s not that you had an opportunity and turned it down. In fact, you didn’t even know it was happening until after it ended. You also weren’t a Harry Styles fan at the time. But you woke up one morning in April and suddenly your entire tik tok for you page was Harry Styles and Shania Twain singing together. 

Growing up, your parents always listened to country music so Shania’s songs were often played. It’s no surprise the algorithm showed you these videos, and you’re very grateful that they introduced you to Harry’s music. 

In the following weeks you watched not only Harry’s Coachella videos on repeat, but videos from numerous past performances both solo, and from one direction. Suddenly, your life has been changed. You were now a huge Harry fan. 

After finally seeing one of his concerts, you became obsessed with his band as well. Which is why it was so startling to bump into his drummer Sarah, and her husband/Harry’s guitarist Mitch. Even more surprising is when the married couple got close to you, so close that they invited you into their relationship, which eventually grew to include Harry as well. 

Now, months into the four of you being together, you’re headed on a trip to Coachella. It’s not too often that you all go out in public together, not because you’re hiding per se, but more because Harry’s been laying low since Love on Tour ended. Plus Mitch and Sarah had been busy with Mitch’s tour for Come June. 

All three of them are extremely excited to attend shows, rather than be in them for once. They love performing, but it’s nice to take a break and let other people entertain them for a day. 

The four of you had created a plan for which shows you’d go see on this one day adventure. The toughest part would be getting from Chappel Roan’s set to Sabrina Carpenter's. Who in the world thought to put them at overlapping times? 

Getting there is more of a production than you’re used to. But this being such a busy music festival, everyone’s safety is being taken very seriously. Meaning instead of the four of you just driving there together, you’re loaded up in a van with a driver and a couple security guards. 

You’re sitting next to Sarah in the back row, Mitch and Harry in front of you. Harry turns to you and says, “Stay close to me today. I don’t want anything happening to you.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes considering he’s already said this numerous times. But you know he means well, is just looking out for you, so you reply, “I will, Harry. Promise.” 

To be honest, you’re a little nervous. The closer you get, the more real the situation becomes. Sure you’ve been talking about this day, but now that it’s here you feel a little worried. Mostly about what people might say about the four of you together. 

You’re going to have to be careful, keeping a distance from Mitch and Sarah so people don’t speculate about your relationship with them. It’s always exhausting when you need to tiptoe around your boyfriend and girlfriend but it’s worth it to keep your relationship steady. 

You’re also nervous to be seen in public as Harry Styles's girlfriend. You’d overthought your outfit, changing it repeatedly in the past few days. It wasn’t until all three of them told you that they loved your outfit that you finally felt confident in it. 

You just hope you won’t embarrass them, that you won’t reflect poorly on Harry. You know that people can be harsh, and they’ll judge Harry based on the things you do and say. So yea, you’re a bit anxious to be attending a music festival with him. 

When the four of you arrive you’re taken to a VIP area. It’s where you’ll be hanging out any time you’re not watching anyone’s sets. You’re only there a minute before other people start arriving. You lean close to Harry’s side and he quietly whispers information about everyone. You’re grateful that he’s keeping you in the loop, making sure you know what’s going on around you. Otherwise, you know you’d just be standing there with a polite smile and feeling so out of place. 

After a quick lunch, you all make your way to one of the stages. As you walk out, Harry’s hand goes to your waist, making sure he’s always in contact with you so nothing can happen to you. 

You all spend the afternoon listening to a number of performers, switching stages when necessary. There's a moment when Harry leaves to run to the bathroom and someone else in the crowd gets close to you and Mitch instinctively pulls you to his side. Sarah quickly intervenes, stepping between you two so she can hold onto you instead. 

You hate not being able to be near Mitch in public. At least with Sarah people just think the two of you are besties so you can get away with holding each other, so long as it doesn’t look too romantic. 

Finally it’s time to see Chappel Roan. You’ve been looking forward to this moment. She’s as great a performer as you’d heard and you have a wonderful time singing and dancing along. You'd taught the other three how to do the Hot To Go dance, and you know videos of them doing it will be posted all over social media before the day is over. 

As soon as her set is finished, security guards help you get to Sabrina Carpenter’s stage. You’d missed the beginning, but have fun watching the rest. Mitch definitely notices the way to watch Sabrina, but truly you can’t help it. She’s hot, and you have eyes. 

Harry suggests grabbing food and eating dinner in the van. He knows you’ll all appreciate some time to recharge and be away from other people. You sit in the back with Mitch, still keeping space in case people see in, but you do get to hold hands for a bit which fulfills your need to be close to him. 

“What time is it?” You ask as everyone finishes eating. 

“About 7:15,” Sarah replies. 

“Can we check out Jon Batiste for a little bit?” You ask. 

“Of course love. Ready to head over now?” Harry answers. 

“Yup, let's get back out there!” 

You miss the look the other three share. They’re so endeared by your excitement, so happy to bring you to your first festival and see you have fun. If there’s one thing they love, it’s being able to introduce you to new experiences, and they love seeing it all through your eyes. 

For the next hour you all walk around the festival, peeking in on a couple different artists before finally making your way to see Ice Spice. This had been Harry’s request, and the rest of you were on board. 

You’d seen a fair number of celebrities throughout the day, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what happens next. Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce enter the VIP area you’re in, and quickly make their way over. 

Harry lets go of you briefly to hug Taylor and shake Travis hand. 

“Taylor, this is my girlfriend, Y/N, and this is Sarah, and Mitch,” Harry says, introducing you all. You’re taken aback when Taylor pulls you in for a hug as well. 

You’d been a fan of hers since you were in middle school, but you’re determined to keep your chill. You settle for a simple, “It’s so nice to meet you! I love your music.”

“Thank you so much!” She replies. “Have you made it to any of the Eras Tour shows yet?”

“No, I haven’t been able to go,” you say with a jokingly over exaggerated frown.

“Okay, well we have to fix that,” she says, and before you can process what she means, the lights go down and music begins to play. 

You all focus your attention on the stage, cheering for Ice Spice as she begins her set. As everyone dances and signs along, you notice Harry being even touchier than before. You’d all had a couple drinks throughout the day, nothing too crazy but just enough that he’s definitely feeling a little loose. And he always gets extra clingy when he’s had a drink or two. 

It never feels overbearing or possessive with Harry (or Mitch and Sarah for that matter). It always feels safe, secure.  There’s also a sense of pride in having Harry by your side. You know there are thousands of people who’d love to be in your position, and you try to never take for granted the fact that Harry has chosen you. 

The four of you dance together, laughing when you see Travis effortlessly lifting Taylor up to see over the crowd, Harry jokingly doing the same a second later. It’s a fun little group, and it’s easy to see everyone is having a great time letting loose for the night. 

When Ice Spice finishes you all say goodbye to the others, Taylor taking your phone number with the promise to be in touch, which absolutely has your mind spinning. 

You’re starting to get tired but you’re not ready for the night to end just yet and so you watch No Doubt followed by TheDrums. The latter band was Sarah’s find, having obviously been intrigued by the name and then fell in love with their music. It’s not what you’d normally listen to, but seeing how much she enjoys it has shifted your perspective on them. 

It’s nearing midnight and Harry notices how much you’re starting to lean on him, indicating your energy is officially depleting. With a look to your security, your group starts to head back to the van. 

You and Sarah once again take the back row, and you only last a few minutes into the drive before you’re sound asleep on her shoulder. When the van pulls up to your shared home, you’re woken up by the feeling of someone jostling you. 

“Sorry baby, tried to carry you in without waking you but it’s an awkward angle,” Mitch says. 

“That's okay,” you practically slur out, moving just enough to get out of the vehicle and into Mitch’s arms. He carries you straight to the extra large master bathroom and the four of you all get ready for bed. 

Even in your drowsy state you can’t help but think about the contrasting sides of your life. Everything is always so lavish and exciting when you’re in public with your partners, but here at home it’s so calm, so domestic. 

Crawling into bed surrounded by the others, you’re so grateful for every aspect of life that comes along with loving and being loved by Harry, Mitch, and Sarah.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading! Someone else requested an angsty extra a long time ago and I could not for the life of me figure out what to do. BUT I finally got an idea so that will be coming soon!

[chemical-killjoy]

Eternally Yours

Chris Motionless x Female Reader

Warnings: smut

Word count: 4.4k O_O

Summary: Basically a fanfic of the eternally yours music video, if the reader was the girl in the video

Author's Note: I know I have a bunch of asks, and I'm getting to them, I swear, but I finally finished this after like, 4 months... so... ta da?

It was tough watching the love of your life, your best friend, getting it on with someone you hate. But you soothed yourself with the fact that it was all for the cameras.

Motionless in White were shooting the music video for their new song 'eternally yours', and being his best friend, Chris jumped to have you on the project. You were one of the best light technicians after all... Plus it was fun to work with you. Chris wouldn't admit it, but he missed you.

And while working with Chris was always fun, having a tall, skinny, blonde model (who thought she was God's gift to the world) making out with him... it didn't exactly help your self esteem. He was perfect. So was she. Why would he ever like you? He'd never go for someone like you when he could have Chloe.

Speak of the devil, you thought, as Chloe sauntered up to you.

“Y/N, I need my skinny mocha.” She demanded.

“I do lights?” You said, frustrated and waiting for her to understand.

“And I'm needed on camera. Hurry up.” The blonde walked away before you could argue.

You rolled your eyes and mentally cursed her. Then you heard a thump and a scream.

“No! My ankle!!” Chloe was on the floor, screaming over a mildly twisted ankle and performing the tantrum of her life. “I can't do this stupid job, I deserve better!”

And that was the fastest working karma you'd ever seen... It also came back to bite you on the ass.

“What?! Me? There's no way. I am NOT that pretty, or seductive, I can't do it!” You begged.

“Come on Y/N, please. There's no one else to do it, and you look perfect for the part! Please, we need this video shot by the end of the day, you know that. Plus, there's no one I'd be more comfortable with.” Chris begged you to step in.

“I don't know.”

Chris smiled at you with pleading eyes and you knew you were done.

“Fine. But I'm going to need hair and makeup.”

You looked in the mirror. The reflection you saw, you hated. It wasn't some succubus, it was gross. You hated seeing yourself in such a small outfit. You were too insecure, what were you thinking agreeing to this?! Plus, you'd have to actually kiss Chris. While you desperately wanted to, did you really want it to all be fake? What if it makes things awkward? You were in the midst of a mental spiral when you heard and knocking on the door and a familiar voice.

“Y/N, you decent?” Chris asked.

“Um, yeah. You can come in.”

Chris slowly opened the door, and his eyes widened when he saw you. You hugged your stomach nervously.

Chris made a kind of sputtering noise before mumbling “wow”, which you weren't supposed to hear. The word make your lips turn up.

“Uh, Y/N, you look spectacular.” He said, standing next to you in the mirror, and admiring you. You looked away, blushing.

“No, I don't. You have to say that. You're my friend.”

“Friend...” Chris said softly. “No, I don't have to say that. You truly look phenomenal. Dare I say, sexy.” Chris brushed some hair over your shoulder, turning to face you. Right then, the buzzer rang, summoning you to the set.

You cleared your throat.

You were about to walk out the door when you turned back to Chris.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” he said, without missing a beat.

“This won't change our friendship right? I just don't want things to be weird.”

A voice called from down the hall, asking you to hurry up.

You walked away.

It took a bit, but after some friendly cat-calls and whistles from the crew, you had the confidence to try to be seductive. You felt a little awkward, walking around the red and blue lighting and just looking around dramatically, but you trusted the director.

Next, you got in the coffin. With David, the director, shouting orders, you got into the part and began to have fun with it, playing model. Your confidence grew and your performance got better and better, until David decided enough was enough.

“Alright, Chris, get in there.”

Suddenly the anxiety returned.

You watched Chris in his suit walk around mysteriously in the lights and tried not to allow a shiver to go through you when he looked down at your lips and removed his glove.

“Y/N, you're the woman, you're not supposed to be so hard.”

The crew chuckled and you rolled your eyes, embarrassed that your anxiety was so obvious.

“Hey, you OK with this?” Chris whispered.

“Ye-yes. Yeah. Just. Out of my comfort zone.” You replied, before raising your voice. “Any directions, boss-man?”

“Just, act like you're a complete whore. You would die to touch him, you need him like oxygen. You're excited, get a little wiggle going on, yes?”

Mentally screaming at him, you nodded your head, and looked at Chris with daggers in your eyes. He couldn't hold in the laugh. Suddenly you were both laughing so hard you nearly fell back into the coffin, and Chris nearly fell in on top of you, making you laugh so hard your eyes watered.

“Oh come on, now your make up is all crinkled, everybody, take five! Y/N, go to hair and make up, and Chris... never mind.” David trailed off, you and Chris still giggling as he helped you out of the coffin. You fumbled a little in the stilettos, but Chris held you around your waist til you got your balance.

“Let's go.”

“David was right, you know,” Chris said, words you thought you'd never hear as you walked to hair and make up.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Not like that! I mean, you just seemed super tense, stiff.” You chuckled at the innuendo. “C'mon Y/N, I'm serious. Am I doing something wrong? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, OK? So just tell me.”

“... I- complete honesty?”

“Always, you know that.”

“I'm scared... I'm scared that if we kiss you'll be disgusted by me or it'll change our friendship and I'll lose you. I don't want to kiss you for the first time in front of cameras and people—I mean, I don't want to kiss anyone for the first time in front of cameras—I mean, your opinion matters to me, and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y/N. Breathe. Yeah?” Chris said, stopping walking to grab you by the shoulders and look you in the eye with a half smile that made you melt. “Would it help if, uh,” Chris looked to the side and nervously rubbed his hands. “If we kiss now, before cameras or anything. You can tell me what you like and what you don't so I don't fuck up,” he said before adding “It'd look better on camera if we're actually enjoying it, right?”.

You bit your lip and stepped closer. Chris brushed your hair behind your head and you couldn't help but turn into his hand a bit as he did, before looking up to his dark brown eyes. He stepped in til your bodies were nearly against each other, and lent down to softly brush your lips with his. You felt your breath catch in your throat as he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You looped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips hard against him. The kiss was fire, and within moments you felt Chris's tongue against your lips, asking for entrance. You stood frozen in time, exploring each other as much as you dared before eventually breaking away for air.

You both stood there, entangled and breathing hard, looking away with small smiles.

“Um, so yeah, if you just do that it'll be fine.” You said, with a breathy voice and a little laugh. Chris joined in, and to your dismay, pulled away.

“Yeah, yeah definitely like that.” He said with a wink, before continuing the walk to hair and make up with his hands in his pockets. You stood still for a moment, hand to your lips, before walking fast to catch up.

You re-filmed the start of the shot after talking with Chris about what you were comfortable with (“well, we're in character, right? Just go for what feels right, and if I'm uncomfortable I'll stop you. Same goes for you.” to which Chris replied “You better let me know, I never want to hurt you.”). Chris walked up to you, and took his glove off. The look in his eye sent a shiver down your spine as you arched your back and lent across the coffin, convincing yourself you were leaning into the part and not Chris. But instead of kissing you, Chris brushed the hair from your face, and placed his head against yours, shutting his eyes. The tension was too much for you to bear as he lent down and rubbed his face against yours, kissing you without doing so, breath against your neck sparking electricity through your veins. You returned the motion, nuzzling into the man. But where Chris's hand had been around the back of your neck, he shifted his hands to be around your throat, lifting you up for better access to surprise you with a fierce, open-mouthed kiss.

It was like the man was trying to torture you. Or ruin you in the best way. You lent further into the kiss, deepening it.

“And cut! Perfect, we'll get all the kissing done at the same time to not waste the lipstick, yeah?” David said, ruining everything.

Chris helped you out of the coffin and you prayed you wouldn't slip and suffer the same fate and Chloe (not that you'd let a sprained ankle stop you now), and David guided you both to an empty area with a few blue lights around.

“OK. Now. I want you guys to make out. Just go for it. Chris, I want you to ravish her.” David directed.

At this point, you looked at Chris and just shrugged. He laughed and pulled you flush against him by the waist, both of you with cheeky grins.

“You ready to start filming?” Chris asked, an air of mischief in his voice.

Before David even said yes, Chris's lips were on yours again. It started a little sloppy and silly, but turned slower and more passionate fast, your hands cupping Chris' cheek, his arms around you only drawing you in closer, impossibly so. Chris broke the kiss and whispered in your ear.

“I'm going to do something, if you don't like it, just stop me, OK?” he spoke in a low whisper, and you didn't have to pretend to be turned on.

“I trust you.” You breathed back.

Then suddenly Chris was kissing your neck, then your chest. You arched your back to grant him better access, and stroked his neck as he sucked on the soft skin of your collarbone. It was all you could do to hold back a moan. When he pulled away and looked up at you, you could have died. Suddenly you felt too tense to kiss him again, scared you'd convey how much you need him, as Y/N, not the character in the music video. You turned your away, and then it was time to touch up your lipstick and a break before once more getting in the coffin.

You were drinking icy water and trying to calm yourself down from the growing heat and anxiety within you. You tried to compose yourself. You didn't want to be a creep, it's not exactly like he's consenting to you getting off from his acting. And that's all it was. Acting. Just... really convincing. You tried to reason with yourself and prepare yourself for the sex scene.

There was another knock on the dressing room door.

“Come in.”

Chris walked in, immaculate in his suit, but a concerned look in his dark eyes.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?” You responded, feigning innocence.

“Did I do something wrong? I thought everything was OK. Did I cross a line? You know you can always stop me Y/N, I know you've been through shit and I don't want to ever hurt you, I'm really sor-”

“Chris, Chris, it's fine. You didn't cross a line or anything. I just. Um. Fuck,” you looked away, a blush spreading across your face. “I- Look, you did nothing wrong, OK? You did everything right. Maybe too right, if you get what I mean? I guess I just kinda froze up. But trust me, you didn't do anything wrong. You're... perfect.” You looked back up at Chris with imploring eyes, only to be met with a cocky smirk.

“Too right, huh? Man's got moves.” He laughed to himself, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Don't get all proud of yourself,” you said and walked past. “Show time.”

Once you two opened the coffin and climbed in, it was up to you.

“I have one direction. Make me feel something. Action!” David boomed.

You started simple, Chris climbing on top of you, but you decided to take control. You lent back and put one heeled foot on Chris's chest, pushing him down slowly. He looked up at you with such an intense lust you could have moaned from that alone. You kissed for a moment before sitting up and helping Chris to take his jacket off. His eyes never left yours, piercing into your soul. The world didn't matter; nothing was real but this moment.

The pair of you moved in time, shifting seductively as Chris whispered to you, hand in your hair.

“Would it be too far if I,” he slid his hand across your face, and you understood his gesture. When his thumb slipped into your mouth, you sucked, fully getting into it. You were determined to make him as desperate as you were. He held both sides of your face and was about to kiss you, but you wrapped your arms around his wrists and tried to pull him down. But Chris was not one to obey. He pulled his hands away and brushed some hair out of your face, before pulling you up against him. Chris scooped you up, one hand cradling your neck delicately, the other gripping your ass for stability and control. You felt immediately how badly Chris wanted this when he grinded into you. The thin fabric of your costume and his suit was not enough to conceal his arousal. You gasped and grinded back as Chris lent in for a kiss that felt like fire. He guided you down into the coffin, as you felt his tongue slip past your lips. After just a moment of kissing, Chris sat up, both of you coming up for air, and double checking consent.

But you just grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. He kissed you lips, your neck, down your chest, even kissing your thigh, then lifting your leg up to caress as he kissed you deeply and passionately, grinding occasionally and trying to control himself. After a few more kisses, you broke apart.

“Perfection! Now we just need to close the lid.” David stated.

“I'm sorry, what?” you asked.

“We're going to close the lid. Well, Chris is. Make it extra dramatic, that's the ending of the video. Two lovers in their final bed.”

Normally you'd fight this, as the idea of being shut in a coffin—even for a moment in a music video—gave you anxiety, but in your current state, the idea made a shiver go through your spine.

The last scene was shot, you snuggled into Chris as he looked up into the camera and closed the door. For just a few moments, you remained just like that. Head on Chris's shoulder and hand on his chest, his arm around you and hand on your ass. You looked up at him and though you couldn't see it, he was looking down at you too.

Chris cleared his throat and tried to find something to say.

“Wow.” He stated, eloquently. You laughed quietly, knowing the camera was still filming.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached your hand up to find his lips. You heard Chris breathing harder as your fingers found his lips. You just started to shuffle closer when you heard a voice.

“That's a wrap for tonight guys. Everyone fuck off home, it's going to be another big day tomorrow.” David said, walking off and dismissing the crew. The crew (most of whom your were friends with) thought it would be funny to leave you both in there rather than helping you out. Which meant you had to untangle yourselves and find a way out.

Someone tapped the coffin twice.

“See you tomorrow guys!” the voice was Ricky. Then, quieter, “Don't have too much fun.” You could feel the smirk through the coffin.

“Motherfucker!” Chris yelled, and only get a distant laughter in response.

You heard nothing but Chris' heartbeat and your head rested on his chest.

For a second, you just looked up at Chris, unsure what to do. You wanted to tell him, but you were scared. You wanted to kiss him, but what if he freaked out, what if it was only for the video, and he was just another actor? But could you live with yourself if you didn't take the chance? Before you could do anything, Chris tried to pull his arm out from under you to push up on the lid of the coffin, and in doing so ended up half on top of you. Chris breathed in sharply as you felt what was most definitely not his leg pressing on yours.

“Ah, sorry, I just, uh, you know,” Chris laughed nervously before looking into your eyes, “You were too good too.” He meant to joke, but his emotions leaked out through the words.

“Trust me, if I was a man, I'd be apologising for the same thing,” you laughed, trying to ease into talking again, and letting Chris know it was all OK. “I mean, when you pulled me in and like, thrust into me? Fuck, I know you said you have moves but damn, you really have moves!” You joked—or tried to make it seem that way.

“I mean, I'm happy to show you more, if you want.” he said with a wink, leaning into it in a joking manner.

“Bold of you to assume I don't want that.” you returned. The joke slipped out, challenging him, but you weren't expecting his facade to drop as he looked at you with total sincerity.

“Y/N, I—I need to ask you something. Was this, ah, was this just for the video? Cause I could swear I felt something real, and I'm hoping it's not just because I want there to be.”

“I- Thank God I wasn't imagining it.” You smiled and pulled him in. But this wasn't like when the cameras where on you. This was soft. Hesitant. Fragile and delicate but determined to push yourself. Because you couldn't let this slip away. Him slip away. While you were aiming for just a short kiss, a peck, wordlessly checking it was OK, Chris had other ideas.

Suddenly his hands were in your hair, his lips on yours, and instead of passion, there was a soft declaration of love. Just taking time to memorize the feel of your lips. But you were both still worked up, and then the heat came in moments, the kiss like fire. As your tongues danced, Chris slid a hand down your body, stopping to squeeze your ass as he grinded into your leg. You moaned into the kiss, rocking your hips against his.

“Chris,” you moaned, as he started to grind his cock against your clothed core.

“Dammit, how do you get this thing off?” He asked, tugging at your costume, and you laughed.

“Fuck, this stupid costume, we're gonna need to get out of here to get it off... Dressing room?” You suggested.

“I don't know,” Chris said darkly, breathing against your ear. “I was looking forward to fucking you right here in this coffin.”

The statement sent a shiver down your spine. Chris didn't miss this.

“I knew you thought this was hot too,” he said, voice low and leaving a hickey on the small of your neck. Chris slid his hand down to rub against your heat, and you bucked your hips into his hand immediately.

“Fuck, you're a lot darker than I gave you credit for, kitten.” Chris' low voice forced a whimper out of you. Then he stopped. “If I go too far, stop me, OK? I don't want to hurt you... well, unless you want me to.”

“Chris, if you stop now, I will fucking murder you.”

“Can't think of a better way to go.”

“Chris!”

With that, Chris tore the fabric connecting the top and bottom of the costume, sliding your panties off at the same time. Before you could even register the destroyed costume, his thumb was rubbing circles on your clit and you cried out.

“Yes! Just there!” You moaned, and Chris slowed his pace. You were about to protest when you heard the zipper of his of his pants. You reached down and pulled his cock out of his pants, and he groaned as you pumped him slowly.

“Shit, I'm not going to last if you keep touching my like that, Y/N,” Chris moaned airily as he thrust into your hand.

“I'm only teasing you back, baby,” you smirked, letting go and kissing him harshly.

“Uh, I don't have a condom, are you OK with that?” Asked Chris, ever the gentleman.

“I'm on the pill, just fuck me, please.” The last word slipped out before you could stop yourself. As hot as this was, you knew your friend would never let you live this down.

“'Please?' Don't tell me,” Chris said, melodramatic, “you're a sub!”

“Chris, don't make me do it, don't ruin the moment.”

“I'm not ruining anything, all I'm saying is-”

“No,”

“that you have to beg.”

“I am not-” You stopped as Chris rolled on top of you, grinded his cock against your wet core, and bit the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a high pitched whimper.

“Are you sure about that, darling?” Chris asked in a low voice.

You whimpered more as he rubbed circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Please Chris, I'm begging you, please fuck me!”

With that Chris thrust his full length into you without any warning.

You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, the later only making the first more intense. Chris was far bigger than any other guy you'd had, both in length and width, and the stretch was perfection. You could've cum then and there when Chris hammered into you without waiting, groaning into your ear. The noises that man was making could drive you insane. Each thrust was deeper, and took you to a new level as you ran your nails down Chris's back, legs wrapping around him for more, more, more. You were in such a state that neither of you could even feel or hear the coffin jolting with each thrust. You wished you could see more of Chris, but the darkness of the coffin only heightened your other senses. Each thrust felt more powerful, as Chris hit your g spot without fail each time.

It wasn't long before you Chris stopped kissing your neck to groan into your ear, slowing his pace.

“Y/N, I'm gonna cum,” He warned, asking without words what you were comfortable with.

“Cum in me,” you said without missing a beat, and you could've sworn the man whimpered a little. “Please.”

With that, Chris returned to his brutal pace, kissing your lips like he needed you like air. He pinched your nipple, and as a gasp escaped, Chris used this to his advantage for further access. After a moment, you felt his thumb toy with your clit again, slow circles getting faster, and as you felt yourself clench around Chris, the tightness in your stomach released and you felt ecstasy as you bucked wildly, desperate to stay in this moment. Just as you started to come down from your high, Chris released into you, losing control. You couldn't help but climb higher as the man you'd die for moaned into your ear, holding your hips and just losing himself into you.

You two cooled down, breathing hard against each other, the scent of sex heavy in the coffin. Though you could hardly see it, you could feel Chris looking into your eyes. Then his hand brushed some hair from your face and he kissed you sweetly, still inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly. When the kiss ended, Chris slipped out, and let out a sigh.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted you, Y/N. How much I need you.” Chris's voice was soft and gentle, a stark contrast what took place mere moments ago.

“I feel like I could say the same. Chris, I-” You stopped yourself before you could say how you feel. Because even after all this, the fear remained. But Chris wasn't going to let that get in the way.

“You what?”

“I've liked you for the longest time.” You chickened out.

“Well, I've loved you for years.”

Even in the dark, you looked over at him.

“What?”

“I wrote this song for you, actually. I'm eternally yours. If you'll give me the honour of being so.”

“I love you.” Was all you could say before your lips crashed to his once more in the beautiful blackness.

Taglist: @fedorable-killjoys @horrorolson As always if anyone wants to be added or taken of the taglist please let me know! <3

If you read this and liked it, please reblog!! Or if you reeeally liked it, here's my kofi <3

[hischierswhore]

THE AFTERMATH TOUR

y/n.hughes

liked by tatemcrae, njdevils & 926,539 others

y/n.hughes new jersey, thank you for the best opening night a girl could ever ask for. you were all insanely loud and i couldn’t be more appreciative. night 1 down, 24 more to go. let’s keep goin 🖤

view all 202,736 comments

njdevils THAT’S OUR GIRL

tatemcrae ate that choreo UPPPPP

user4 5th slide oh my god

jackhughes don’t think i’ve ever screamed louder

user7 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

lhughes_06 did you hear me screaming during good graces?

↳ y/n.hughes oh that was you? i thought it was a rat, mb

user10 pls tell me someone got the video of her little speech

_quinnhughes this outfit was… certainly a choice

↳ y/n.hughes womp womp 🤷‍♀️

user5 the way she just womp womp’d her brother 😭

y/n.updates

liked by 196,417 people

y/n.updates y/n performing at “the aftermath” tour night 1 in new jersey! at the start of the show, she said the following: “if you guys could just be as loud as possible, that’d be amazing. my boyfriend, family & friends are all here to watch and it would mean a lot if they thought i was like super cool haha”

view all 16,829 comments

user5 me looking at the vip tent to see who her bf is

user3 i saw her family, cole, the entire devils team & some of the umich guys 🤨

user86 waittttt is she not dating trevor anymore?

↳ user2 no they broke up at the start of the year. he apparently cheated on her (according to her songs)

↳ user9 user2 well that plus in the press for the album she confirmed that they did break up and that she was seeing someone new

user1 IS SHE DATING ONE OF THE DEVILS?????

↳ user43 if she is, i’m surprised that jack, luke AND quinn haven’t hurt the guy yet

↳ user72 okay but like realistically, who could it be bc i have no clue

↳ user63 maybe dawson? they seem to be close

↳ user72 wait bc i can totally see them together

[xanticore]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

Genre: Slight smut and angst

Warnings: Dirty talk, mentions of alcohol. age gap. Kirk is 35 / you are 22 Strong language. Some violence-

Setting: Mid to late 90s. Reload era. Kirk having his peircing and shit.

Summary: You and Kirk have been on and off with each other for awhile. You guys aren't exactly together but he can still get jealous when another man decides to hit on you. A slight argument breaks out and one thing lead to another, he's making you squirt aggressively.

Rockstar!reader

It was end of the vma's and was time to hit the after party. We were in New York and won music video of the year. It had my heart in so much unnecessary anxiety about if my band was going to win that grand award or not. The overthinking was off my shoulders and all I cared about was getting to those damn parties. Our band was currently in a limo, and the members had bought girls on board. I didn't really care for her as she was touching and caressing my body. I was uninterested.

The only girl I wanted was the lead singer from the new band, RozariE. The first time she caught my attention was when I was back at home having mtv music videos play, as I occupied myself cleaning my guitars. The singer was so mesmerizing and so fucking sexy. She was everything I looked for in a woman. I watched her band perform and the way she wore her stage outfit had me shaking my head. I couldn't handle it...and it honestly pissed me off.

I thought about the first time we met, first time we kissed, fucked..it was all surreal. She was mine but it was hard for me to call her such things as their manager tend to be overprotective of the girls. He had all right to be but fuck. We never properly discussed what we were but the amount of times we would see each other...110% of the time sex was involved mostly-as if we were just friends with benefits and nothing more.

But tonight, I wanted that changed. We finally arrived to the destination and thankfully the girl took the hint. We all got out the limo and walked into the club. Music blasting of the newest pop hits. Every celebrity from the vma's was here, getting high and drunk out their fucking minds. Everyone dancing the night away letting lose and being carefree.

The band eventually went their separate ways and I went to the bar to order myself a quick drink to start my night. I leaned against the bar looking at the crowded area and my eyes landed on her. She had an outfit change and damn it-i wanted to rip that expensive fabric right off. She was wearing a short black dress-silk I assume how the light reflected off it and some classic black leather boots that goes up to her knees.

I was having the time of my life just watching my prey from afar...until someone came in the picture. A random club goer started dancing and touching up on her. I didn't react too soon, but I had my glare on him. Her arms went around his neck and now I was watching them kiss right in front of me.

I nearly broke the glass from squeezing it too hard but eventually let it go before cutting myself up. I finished my drink; leaving the cup behind as I sped walked towards them. Without much thinking, I punched the guy in the face. People were to fucking drunk to notice and it was fine by me. He was knocked out cold and soon felt a sting on my cheek. She slapped me.

"What the hell Kirk!"

I didn't say a word to her but dragged her out to a more private area..also ignoring the fact she was hitting the shit out of me on my arm. I let her go and now we were standing face to face.

"Care to explain what the fuck you were doing?" I nearly raised my voice.

"Uhm!! having fun? That's what 20 year olds do!-"

"Kissing him shouldn't be a fucking option, actually kissing anyone that isn't me isn't an option (name)"

"Excuse me? last time I checked- we aren't fucking together? You shouldn't even think twice of what I do!"

That was my green light. I wanted her to myself. I smashed my lips against hers and felt her recipricate. I pulled her closer and her arms were rightfully around my neck. I pulled away dragging her to a random room and it wasn't all that great. It was a supply closet but all I needed was to do something quick with her.

I locked the closet door and she eagerly pulled me back for that kiss. I touched her all over her body; feeling her soft skin. I wasn't going to fuck her here...no. I wanted to wait until we were back at the hotel. I slipped my hands in her panties and felt her already so wet.

"Sweetheart. You're so wet. I didn't do much but touch your pretty body of yours. Let me take care of you.."

She whimpered softly as i made little circles on her clit. I connected my lips with her neck, sucking and leaving marks on her skin. Soon enough, I inserted my ring and middle finger into her. I wasted no time for her to process as I began to finger her aggressively. She was a whining and moaning mess just how I like it with her.

"Fuck..."

"You like that huh? My princess. You're mines only. You got that sweet thing" I whispered in her ear, biting her lobe afterwards." I had no intention of stopping whatsoever but I knew I was sending her over the edge. "You were thinking about me were you? Say yes.."

"Yes..fuck" She moaned out. Her hands went down to my wrist but I smacked it away. I was in need of wanting to taste her but I knew it'll end up with me ramming my cock into her. "Kirk...baby- i'm gonna cum-"

"Cum baby. Cum all over my fingers like the slut you are." She did just that. Squirting all over my hands and some of my clothes. She was spilling all over the place and I couldn't help but chuckle. I soon stopped, sliding my fingers out to rub her clit again slowly. We ghosted each others lips letting her bite my bottom lip.

"Listen here sweetheart. I want you to come to my hotel tonight because we are not finished. I don't fucking care what your manager says, you understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"You're mine and will always be mine. Don't touch no one else..you hear me? Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir..."

"Good girl. Now, let's get you cleaned up and leave this mess for someone else~"

a/n: I seriously hope yall like this, if not, I could always rewrite it of course.

dividers: cr to owners

[usedpidemo]

Thinking about you (Choi Yena)

——————

Thank you @capslocked for reading and input <3

——————

> How have you been doing? I miss u ㅠㅠ

> I hope you’re taking care of yourself and eating well ㅠㅠ

> I can’t wait for you to hear the comeback!

> Let’s meet each other soon

> I hope you’re thinking of me too

—————

She was absolutely right.

You missed her. The old her. Clear flashes of her energetic, glowing face persisted, but so did those unfathomable, lewd expressions.

You never looked at Yena the same way you did before. She was an entirely different person after the day you met.

Not a single night passes by without you restlessly thinking about the fanmeet. You got way more than your money’s worth, even if it punched a hole so deep in your pocket that only recently began to heal from. It was both the best and the worst night of your life. Almost six months have passed, yet it hasn’t sunk fully in your head that this bright, cutesy idol moonlights as an eager cockslut to her most dedicated supporters.  

That isn’t to say you’ve never stopped supporting her. To the dismay of your neighbors, her music plays over a hundred times a day inside your apartment, any of her social media posts is an automatic like, and you don’t open up YouTube without watching at least one video of her, be it a performance or her other content. It’s an obsession bordering on lunacy; it might actually be lunacy.

Your credit card may as well be linked with Yena, even though she’s nothing but an idol to you. In her eyes, you’re just a mere fan. Since that fateful day, you didn’t spend a single coin on any of her merch—not even when she had her first comeback—but you’ve always kept that Universe membership active. That notification from the app is your version of the morning newspaper. Your daily routine grinds to a complete halt whenever you hear that sound. Your brain hardwired itself to instinctively grab the phone, dash and flick through the screen, as if your life depended on it.

On the screen are four new photos. Usually she sends selfies with a common style: Acting cutesy and bright, pouting and puckering her trademark duck lips on camera. This time, it’s different. 

It’s only ever seen seldomly in live performances—think her red top at that one festival or a similarly matching green crop she previously wore—but she’s rocking a white crop top with jeans, perfect belly exposed, complemented by faux panties linked to her pants. Her plaid is dropped down her arms, shoulders fully exposed. It’s bold. It’s scandalous. To almost everyone else, it’s a dramatic shift from her bubbly concepts, but you, along with a lucky few, have already seen this before—far beyond explicit detail.

Immediately, your thoughts return back to last summer. Quick, vivid flashes of her in every lewd position imaginable play in your head. Whenever you see that face, you can’t help but be reminded of how you were atop her, how your cock was deep inside her mouth, and how she was carelessly used by five different men, including you. A cloud of guilt and trauma lingers over you, still incapable of grasping how this cute girl with a colorful image, enjoys being taken in such a pornographic manner. 

Still, the door to the past remains open, enough for a little light to seep in—or in this case, darkness. 

Another bell, another notification. She follows up her jaw dropping photos with three perfectly timed messages:

> I can’t wait to show you a different side of me ㅠㅠ

> Some of you already have ;)

> You mean a lot to me, jigumi

It’s almost like she’s reading your mind, actively dissecting your thought process, and using the right words to drag you back into that darkness. Most people would definitely embrace and relish in it, but not you. In your eyes, she’s still an idol with a family friendly image to uphold, and not everything is tainted, but when Yena herself comes out with these kinds of photos and outfits, you’re like a parent dumbfounded at their child for being rebellious. 

She’s an adult and she can do whatever she wants—you acknowledge this—but your heart feels heavy seeing her act this bold and confident.

A handful times you’ve considered dropping her. It’s not like she’s the only idol you like; you like her former members just as much, some of which are prospering in their new groups, but you’ve always had a special connection to Yena, one that was corrupted when you participated in that fanmeet. She’s still the same Yena, with the same charms that caught your attention, but it seems as if you’re looking at a clone or a variant. It doesn’t feel the same.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door, interrupting your deep contemplation. It’s probably one of your neighbors, as usual. Lxxk 2 You plays over the big television subwoofers, bass thumping, loud as if it were a concert, and it’s that time of the night when most working people should be sleeping. You should be preparing for bed too, but you’re considering other activities before you get some shut eye.

So you hop off from the couch and walk over to the flat’s entrance, powering the music down to ear-friendly levels. You open the door, and your face goes wide, completely in shock.

It takes everything in you not to shout like the building’s on fire. Celebrities shouldn’t be visiting middle class apartments randomly, nor should they be knocking on people’s doors, especially this late at night—unless an entire camera crew is behind them. Not a single camera person or hidden camera in sight.

This has to be some sort of elaborate stage prank, because the timing couldn’t be any more on point; then again, that’s what you thought when she began undressing in front of you.

Yena’s standing at your apartment entrance, grinning from ear to ear. In her tiniest, squeakiest tone, she whispers, “Hi.”

As if you were gonna say anything back, and even if you had something to say, the overwhelming emotions you’re feeling derail your train of thought.

She playfully leans her face close to yours, eyes scanning your idle, unintentionally humorous expressions. “Looks like someone’s happy to see me again.” 

An understatement. Despite the emotional conflict you were dealing with, no words and no width of a smile can express how excited you were to see her in the flesh—and right at your doorstep, no less. Unless—

“It’s—it’s y-you, right? Tell me this isn’t a joke.” Doubt makes itself evident in your anxious tone. You didn’t want to expect much, only for that hope to be ripped to shreds.

“Of course it’s me!” Yena puts her hands on her waist, jokingly pouting, as if she was offended. “Who else would be knocking on your door this late at night?”

Blinking rapidly while you stare, still in utter disbelief, a momentary pause before you reply, “My neighbors?”

“Really?” Expecting a predictable answer, only to be subverted, her eyes dilate. “I’m sorry. I can come back next week if you want—” 

“No!” The scream you let out echoes throughout the hallway, foregoing any form of built up subtlety. Joke or not, it’s far too soon for this fleeting moment to end. “I—I didn’t expect you to show up like this at all.”

“Nobody does.” Yena giggles, and it’s cute, warm, and everything that drew you to her in the first place. “Anyway, if you want me to stay, you can invite me inside your place and we can talk some more.”

She didn’t need to add a follow up smile. You were always going to welcome her regardless of whether or not she said anything.

—————

Call it hyperbole, but you’re really caught up in your own feelings. How wishy-washy you are— contemplating whether supporting Yena was the right thing to do, only to drop those questions the moment she appears at your doorstep, reminding you that nothing of value was lost.

From the dining area, Yena casually watches you teeter across your little kitchen, holding that smile from outside your flat. Ignore the hot kettle in your hand; you can’t last even a few seconds without looking in her direction, sometimes meeting her gaze. When your eyes do meet, there’s a spark, a connection taking form, but it’s make-belief inside your head. She has a finger gently placed on her rosy cheek. It gives you butterflies in your stomach. Then her grin broadens an inch wider, and your heart races. Every little thing she does makes you flutter, as if you’re having a crush on someone for the first time.

Yena has this large racing jacket layered on top of what appears to be a gray sleeveless dress shirt with matching color skirt, striking a balance between quirky and attractive. Even outside of her profession, she always dresses unconventionally—probably because it’s her style, and not only because she wants to stand out. Had she appeared in that fit from the photos she sent half an hour ago, you wouldn’t have been able to control yourself.

Despite the beautiful distraction occasionally getting in the way of your focus, somehow, you’re able to brew up some hot chocolate to serve to your guest. She already had dinner earlier—she told you right as you led her inside—and thank goodness for that; you didn’t want her to use your bathroom for all the wrong reasons, make her second guess the decision to randomly visit a fan out of the blue, especially right before a comeback. Worst case scenario would be a reported hospitalization and the postponing of many different schedules, all because of you.

Can you imagine the fallout? 

It’s probably best not to think about it too much, especially after she drank through the whole mug like it was a bowl of ramen. There’s small residue, tiny little specks on her lips, and she has this gleeful, childlike look in her eyes. 

God, you’re so cute, you think to yourself.

“It’s really good,” she says, turning her gaze to you, shifting to a more businesslike stance in a snap, smiling and nodding. “Thank you.”

No words can describe how mushy your heart feels. Being complimented by your favorite idol—your favorite person—has to be one of the highest forms of validation possible. You’re set for life. If she tells you to quit your job to sell drinks instead, you’d drop the resignation letter in a heartbeat.

“Would you like another?” you ask. The joy is too much to contain, cutting loose in the form of a toothy grin. 

“This is enough, but thanks,” she replies, and you’re brought back down to earth again. Still, this memory will last as long as you live. 

Deep in thought, her eyes roll down to the empty mug. Her index finger runs loops around the cup’s edge. Even when she’s doing seemingly mundane things to pass the time, you’re left in awe of how gorgeous she looks. You already saw her before, under different circumstances, and she was everything you hoped for—far better than what any camera captured. Here, with less makeup and with a more casual fit, she was as close to perfection as she can possibly be.

You look at her for what appears to be hours, soaking in the sight of a homely Yena you’ve previously only imagined in dreams. The way you stare at her, scan even the tiniest of motions, and examine every little part of her leans on disturbing at points, yet she doesn’t say a word, nor does she care to glance in your direction. She appears lost in thought, mindlessly using the cup as a tool to exercise her brain. You’re anxious to say a word, let alone ask a question—and you’ve got plenty.

“I bet you’re wondering,” she says suddenly, tone hushed, eyes focused on the mug’s base, index finger still running laps on the edge. Pausing, she repeats herself, reforming her train of thought. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.”

“Yeah.”

There’s one of your questions, delivered in a way you’re unable to. At least she knew that one, but she may as well have known everything inside your head over the last several months.

“I like to remember the people in my fanmeets.” She lifts her finger off the cup, cleans the stains off the fingerprints by rubbing it against the wooden surface of the table. “And I checked who I haven’t spoken to in a while, and guess what? We haven’t interacted since then. At all.”

Your eyebrows lift, concerned more than surprised. “You’ve been visiting your fans?”

Her eyes slide up, meeting yours in a magnetic gaze. She flashes you a grin, no different from any of her other smiles, but you’re immediately smitten. “I do.”

There’s a pause, a moment where you stare into each other like you’re both in love. You’re smiling too. 

“I mean—I don’t go out of my way to visit them.” Yena breaks the tension, averting eye contact. The right sleeve of her jacket slides down, exposing a lot of shoulder and skin. It’s dangerous, how nonchalant at how sexy she is. “Everyone sends me a message, and they usually run over to my place to do the thing, then they leave.”

“Damn,” you comment, taken aback by her sudden reveal. “You let everyone run through you so easily?”

“I don’t hate it. I enjoy it.” Yena fires a mild scowl at you, seemingly insulted by the manner in how you said it. “You were there, you know.”

You lean back into your chair, rattled by her sudden stern demeanor. “Yeah, but—”

“Idol life is exhausting. I’m sure you know that, right?” interjects Yena, half pouting and half grimacing, her brows lowered. “I need an outlet from all the stress, and what better way than to get some from my fans? They get to feel good, and I feel good too. It’s a win-win.”

“It has to hurt at some point,” you reply, even more worried. The thought of Yena being used on a daily basis many times agonizes you, yet you never really mused the idea when you were using her mouth. 

“I’m used to it, don’t worry.” She relaxes her composure, gradually returning to her softer side. “You weren’t this worried when you were shoving that long dick of yours down my throat.”

Consider your argument invalid. You look down at the table, guilty as charged.

“Something up? I remember how hesitant and nervous you were, but you still used me like everyone else.” She holds your hand, drawn into a knuckle, inching her face a bit closer to yours. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”

You sigh. “I don’t know if I should say it to you directly.”

“You can tell me everything.” Yena says it with endearing conviction, as if she were your therapist. Here’s the thing, though: you have no experience with one. 

You pause, then you sigh. Again. There’s a line between her invitation and your doubt tugging at you from opposite ends. Months of pent-up turmoil and internal conflict, ready to unload all at once. You have to remind yourself that she's an idol, not your personal counselor, and it may prove to be overwhelming even for her. There’s her hand, tenderly resting on yours, lulling you into a sense of security, but here comes your mind, acting in ‘self-defense’, feeding you negative thoughts like the three meals you eat every day.

For a third time, you sigh.

Fuck it. You’ve got nothing to lose, anyway.

“God—where do I begin—” you huff, tilting your eyes in the opposite direction, dodging Yena’s perceptive gaze. A brief silence follows. You’re hesitant, undecided on whether to tell all or keep it to yourself, but your toes are already deep in the water—might as well dive in. “I—I thought you were special.”

Yena angles her face, quizzical. “What do you mean?”

“I really liked you from the beginning, when you were still on Produce,” you reply, eyes now facing the direction of the living room. There are a handful of framed photos, mostly Yena photocards from previous releases. “I don’t know how I can properly explain it, but—” you pause. Swallow that lump in your throat. “You were different from every idol I’ve followed before.”

She frowns. The hold on your hand becomes a tad bit tighter.

“Gosh, this is gonna sound so cheesy—” you quietly mutter, chuckling at what you’re about to say. Yena fails to suppress her own giggle, her hand trembling. “But—I thought you were just the best, you know? So funny, so cute, and so talented in every way. You were the perfect girl. Still are.”

Her cheeks blush a bright flowery pink. “That’s really sweet of you to say. Is this a romantic confession?”

“God damn it, Yena—” you quietly groan, rolling your eyes back to your skull. Way to ruin a serious moment with humor. “Kind of! If you want to look at it that way—”

“Not the first time someone outwardly asked me to be their girlfriend. Sorry to tell you this, but I’m kind of busy with myself to have relationships.”

“I mean—no! I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, obviously—” 

“I wonder what she’s gonna say about this one—” 

To your dismay, Yena smirks.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, ugh—” you grumble, annoyed. On the other hand, she’s laughing heartily, enjoying every single moment of the exchange. “Can I just cut to the point?”

She cackles a bit longer before gradually calming down. “Okay, okay. Continue.”

“Okay, where was I? Perfect girl. Right. Point is, I wanted to follow your career and watch you succeed. So when I heard you were coming out with a fun and colorful concept, I was so excited. I knew it was the perfect match for your personality. God, you had no idea how overjoyed I was when I found out I was gonna finally meet you face to face. All that album spending was finally worth it. Then the day arrived, I thought it was gonna be simple and fun. God.”

“Then what happened?” she asks, casually, seemingly oblivious to the sudden widening of your eyes. There’s trauma written on both of them.

“Then you started stripping.”

The little smile on her lips curls, turning serious. “And then?”

You couldn’t really answer, not because you didn’t know—you do—but because you don’t want to elaborate. Even thinking about it now, with whatever confidence you’ve mustered up until this point, this is as far as your resolve can go.

Sighing, you say, “You became tainted to me.”

Yena nods. Ridiculous as it sounds, she immediately understands. “Oh.”

You feel something loosen; it’s her hand on yours, pulling away. A tense silence follows, while you both ruminate over everything that you’ve said. It’s heavy—perhaps a bit too much to take in all at once, like you predicted.

“I still don’t regret it,” she says, pouting. Call it cold, insensitive, or callous, she shows no sign of remorse. “But I understand where you’re coming from. Look at this young idol, she’s cute and sweet, but then she lets herself get used by everyone for fun. I guess you wanted me all to yourself? I don’t blame you. Everyone wants me for themselves, too.”

For a moment, she was close to figuring it out. For a moment.

“It’s not even that,” you reply, unamused at the somewhat narcissistic answer. “I mean—you’re not wrong—”

“There you go!” Yena interrupts, internally celebrating and patting herself on the back. “You’ve said it yourself that you wanted me too. Well, here I am—”

“It’s not that simple!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration. Forget that she was an idol, forget that she was a guest—you’re yelling at her the same way you argue with your landlord about rent. “Can you listen to me for just one moment?”

She looks at you, eyes wide and mouth agape. Frozen, stunned, speechless.

For a moment, you hesitate, regret almost immediately striking you in the gut. You don’t blame her if she decides to walk out on you. Wasting time arguing with a fan should be the least of her priorities. She’s a soloist who can go about with her career in any way she wants. You have just as little power over her as anyone else—none.

“God, forget about it,” you say. If there was any moment not to be human, not to be you, it would be now. “I mean—I really do want you, but I just—”

“No, no. Go on. I’m listening.” Yena’s tone and expressions are dead serious—a far cry from the usual jumpy side she normally shows. Her hand snakes back to grab yours. At first, you draw it an inch back, until you change your mind and reach it out for hers again. An olive branch of sorts.

“I don’t know where to begin, Yena. You’re so cute,” you say, staring into her starry eyes, twinkling under the dining room light. “I didn’t expect you to be such a—um, you know—”

“A cock slut?” She says it so casually, it’s off-putting to the ear. It still feels weird to hear those two words come out from those seemingly sweet lips, even though you’ve heard them before.

“Yeah. A cock slut.” The words escape your mouth like puke.  You can feel your conscience gradually die calling her one, worse than any profanity you’ve ever spoken. “Can you not—”

“Of course, of course.” Yena nods. “Sorry.”

“Anyway—” You pat her hand tenderly, rolling your eyes while you condense your thoughts into something coherent. “Look, I just—I really can’t tell if you’re still Yena after what happened. I know this is so stupid, but I always liked your cute image, and now it’s ruined.”

She caresses your hand back, showing a little reassuring smile. “Aw. I’ve heard that before, and I understand where you’re coming from, but as an artist, I want to make the music I want, and I want to be more than one-dimensional. I want to show sides I never could when I was in a group. I want to be great at everything, so you can be proud of supporting a multi-talented idol.” 

“I’m already proud of you,” you whisper. “You’re already perfect in my eyes.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you for supporting me all these years.”

Next thing you know, your hands are no longer on each other—they’re caressing rosy cheeks, feeling the warmth and affection of the other’s skin. You’re staring. With much of the angst you’ve repressed is finally poured out, there’s nothing left except a growing desire of want and lust.

“So, you don’t want to support me anymore?” she asks. Seeing the disheartening look on her features breaks your heart. It’s like saying farewell to a best friend going away, never to be seen again. “I understand, but I am always grateful—”

“No. I still want to cheer you on. I just—this is just a little too fast for me, seeing you mature gracefully.” 

Her smile grows a bit wider. After the dark clouds, the sun shines brighter. It’s not over. “I’m still young, so I’m not maturing that fast. At the end of the day, I’ll always be your duck—and your smiley hero.”

—————

It happened way too fast. Love makes no sense. 

How quick those tense moments fly by, only to be replaced by bliss so shortly after.

She kissed you, pulled you close by the fabric of your shirt. Feelings of a long distance relationship that may have blossomed in another life spring forth. It’s reconciliation. It's a reconnection. 

It’s like the last half-hour of superficial melodrama never even happened.

Then again, you should have known exactly why she was here to begin with.

Before you know it, you’re making out with each other passionately as you head into the bedroom together. Her jacket’s long gone, forgotten somewhere in your living room. Based on how muted the music has become, you may have a hunch as to where it ended up. There’s little resistance from your end; you submit to her quicker than when you shared her with others.

Some things are best experienced alone, and making love with Yena is one of them.

Your lips trace down to her chin, to her soft, sensitive neck. She whines. It’s a sweet sound that tickles your ears. Raising her head up for greater access, you leave marks deep into her flesh, assert full ownership of her body, even just for one night. You hold her by her shoulders, hugging her like your favorite pillow, kissing her delicious, mushy skin, leaving red blemishes on her cute figure, glowing brighter than the sun.

“Mmm, this feels so good,” she whines, humming. She grabs a fistful of your hair while weaving her other hand between your chest lightly pressing on hers. The little separation breaks your attention. When you regain some semblance of restraint, you note the last of the buttons on her dress shirt come off, a black bra revealed behind it. With an inviting smirk, she looks at you with glazed eyes, indicating what she wants without the need for words. 

There’s a tinge of anger, some leftover frustration, in those hands of yours. You shove her down, send her crashing to the bed. It only serves to arouse Yena even further. Your pupils are dilating, driven crazy by the lewd scene playing out in real time. It’s a possessed, hungry stare, ignoring all those endless hours of existential contemplation within mere seconds. 

How quick you are to throw away your qualms on a whim.

She looks up at you with an intense, deep glare. Instantly getting up from the fall, her fingers dig deep into your pants.

She isn’t the only thing quick to rise tonight. 

Your pants are the next to fall, shortly followed by your underwear. Only now do you realize the disparity between you and Yena—how you’ve been talking to her in your pajamas while she’s dressed up like a star. Given the circumstances, you’re not at fault, but still—shameful. The only thing saving you from embarrassment is your lack of self-awareness, and that your erect cock demands complete attention. Soon, those carefully curated nails dig into your skin, making you wince. A brief retaliation. It’s not like you can do anything back, even if she gracefully relinquished control to you. 

Nothing worth getting flustered for, you’ll both be down to your barest shortly.

“Can I?” asks Yena, in her cutest tone, hot air against your tip making you shiver. It’s almost fucked how she pleads to you while readying herself to do the one of the filthiest things imaginable. Tip barely grazing her strawberry lips, her nails itching to grab you by the length, it would be criminal at this point to say no.

You barely notice you’ve given your approval. Almost immediately she takes your tip into her mouth with a delicate hum, so hungry to taste you, so eager to claim you. It takes every bit of your strength not to crumble right then and there, not to succumb to your weakness, clutching at her raven colored locks for support. Both her hands grab you by your girth, stroking your shaft as she plunges it deeper into her maw, devouring you.

Every breath you take is tense, like it’s the last one before you inevitably drown. Based on how consumed you are by pleasure, you’re practically halfway there. Mouth agape, eyes completely shut, hands gripping and losing hold of Yena repeatedly while she vigorously sucks your cock, purring with delight as she engulfs you with her wetness and spit.

“Ummmppfff.” Yena releases your dick from her mouth with a sloppy pop, your shaft now coated in a fresh sheen of saliva and precum. The relief is only temporary as she leashes your cock with her hand, pumping you at a steady but excruciating tempo. 

When you manage to reopen your eyes, the first thing you see is the pornographic expression in her eyes meeting you halfway as her tongue laps up your tip, followed by your underside, then down to your balls, swallowing some of it in her mouth. Kissing around your balls, she refocuses her attention back to your cock as it leaks some more.

“Oh my God—” you groan, still holding onto her locks, before the rest of your unspoken words deteriorate into nothing more than pleasurable, erotic sounds. In some twisted form of appreciation, she pecks up your balls as your tip stains her tiny nose, before putting your girth back into her mouth again.

The short bursts of moans you make spiral into a strain of prolonged, breathy groans. Add the occasional drop of her name and a curse, and it’s the perfect string of praises to give to her. Yena’s tempo goes haywire, losing herself in ecstasy of your cock deeply buried in the back of her throat without any gag reflex. She’s all blushed up, makeup and sweat and precum glazed on a perfect canvas—an expression of wanton desire. Before it dawns on you, she surrenders herself to your most basic of urges, allowing you to fuck her face without consideration for thought or comfort. 

The hair tie keeping her locks together loosens. Another chain unshackled. You don’t really need your eyes open to know how much Yena loves your cock—how she tightly keeps your shaft sealed between her lips with each thrust, how she sings the sweetest song, and how much spit she lathers all over your shaft. All of these sensations combine for a shiver that’s the closest experience to heaven, almost as if she’s ripping your soul out of you.

Yena rushes the pace even further, grabs your ass from underneath you. She doesn’t care that she chokes and coughs from desperation to fill her mouth. She knows something you don’t. The signs are starting to show: the rapidly expanding tension in your loins and the quivering in your legs—an inevitable climax is about to happen, and you’re trying in vain to keep yourself in this position even a second longer than you deserve.

“Fuck, Yena, I’m gonna—”

Determined, she pushes you against her, makes sure your cock is tickling the deepest part of her throat. It’s enough of a rush that spikes an incomprehensible high before you’re sent spiraling back down to earth almost as quickly. Just like that, you’re gone. Your body shuddering, Yena takes you all in like an open faucet, thirstily swallowing every thick, warm shot of cum down her dry throat. 

She releases your withering cock from her airtight lips with a familiar sounding pop, breaking the thin connection between her mouth and your tip made of saliva and seed.  Playfully, she swallows her throat in a show of glee, grinning from ear-to-ear. That’s the first thing you see when you regain your senses.

Your legs are barely holding out, only supported by whatever willpower left in you remains, and your hand pressed into her long, loose dark locks. While you’re gathering yourself, she grips onto your thighs, licks the tip with her filthy, cum-stained tongue, then around the rest of your shaft to render it ‘clean.’ 

You consider that a night well spent, and more than enough, but for Yena, one isn’t enough. To her, it was merely an appetizer.

“You done?” she asks, innocently, but to your ears, it’s almost teasing, mocking—at your poor stamina.

“Not yet,” you say, still gasping in between. 

“That’s what I wanna hear.”

Yena pulls you overhead, sends you down to the bed on all fours, hovering atop her lithe figure. It’s an arousing sight enough to make you hard, but sore—and you’re slowly coming around the fact that you sorely needed her. So you lean down and kiss her, show her intimacy you’ve previously only done in private, behind these same closed doors by yourself, when it was only you and a photograph of her.

Kiss her again. The way it plays out seems ripped directly from your dreams, but something seems a bit off—she still has the rest of her clothes on. 

So you quickly dispose of them, to the floor where they belong—bra first, followed by her panties. In between, you shower her with delicate kisses down her body, from her chin and neck, to her chest as you peel the lingerie off her, down to her toned tummy. You reach between her groin, make instant work of her underwear, and note her already sopping, wet cunt.

That too, you give a kiss of appreciation. 

Right as you’re about to leave, Yena’s thighs begin to clench between your face, denying you an opportunity to leave without a taste of her as well. It’s a brutal sweeping force pulling you in, and you can do nothing but concede, allowing yourself to get swept away in her over wetness. Her body writhes, squirms as you indulge in her, lapping your tongue around her tasty flesh and her sensitive clit.

“Mm—oh t-that’s so—f-fuck—” she whines, tensing up and body clenching tighter as you devour her with greater hunger than what she did to your cock. 

It only serves to spur you on, unlocks a deeper level of thirst and instinct you thought you never had. With a frenzied pace, your tongue sticks to her mouthwatering clit like a magnet, with her mmms and aaahs in the background urging you to take it all. Any spilled drop of her would be a waste, and you're determined to make sure none of it goes anywhere except your mouth.

Her body quickens and accelerates to its natural bliss, faster than you expected, and you can feel every nerve, every fiber burn and tense beyond the point of repair, yet she can’t—and won't—stop moaning, unable to keep herself shouting with ecstasy, crying out your name like you’re her savior. Hands gripped on the sheet, she eagerly anticipates the moment you’ll deliver her to her nirvana, her paradise, and you’re working your hardest to bring her there.

Digging your fingers between your thighs, you slip a digit around her delicate folds, and it drives her mad. She lets out her loudest yelp, a scream worth a neighbor’s concern, but you’re beyond past caring for subtlety. Let them knock, let them burst through the door. They’ll have to drag you away for you to stop.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, I—”

It’s on a rather weak flick that sends her careening over the edge. Your face becomes a vessel for a torrent of ambrosia, of gooey juices to gush over. She twitches and groans, enveloped in a shockwave of her own high. Releasing your fingers from inside her, you barely hold her upright, keep her legs suspended in limbo while you’re still an outlet of pleasure she uses to fill up. 

Winding down, the grip on her thighs loosens. For the first time in minutes, you can finally breathe. When you emerge from her delicious clit, you’re a beautiful mess, a canvas made of ecstasy and slick—an image she always draws for every fan she meets, and perfectly recreates.

And it still isn’t enough to satiate her.

“I need that dick inside me,” says Yena, delivered low and seductive. She extends her arm out, points out your already hard cock. This was her plan all along—to buy time while you ready yourself for the second time. “I can’t go without at least one nice warm load in this wet pussy.”

You sigh—not out of frustration, but exhaustion. 

She smirks and silently giggles. “I didn’t see you grumble like that at the fanmeet. Now that we’re all alone, you have me all to yourself. Come on. Use me. Fuck me.”

It’s not just in the way she says such profane, salacious words to lure you, it’s in the elaborate order she says them—like she’s practiced it meticulously a thousand times, and knowing everything now, it makes complete sense.

Yet with the way your body moves, how you almost immediately respond to her call, it works to near perfection. 

Hand on your cock, you hover atop her, line your shaft against her sopping cunt, force a gentle whine in response. Testing the waters, you whisper against her lips, “How do you want it?”

“Any way you want,” she mumbles back, smiling sweetly, but the intent behind the expression is anything but. Her hand traces the outline of your free arm, up to your cheek, caressing your face tenderly—a display of gentleness in the middle of high tension. “From here, from behind, on all fours—maybe even my mouth again. All up to you.”

So many options to choose from, you wish you had the strength and the endurance to do them all—maybe in that order as well. It’s an inconsequential question and challenge, but the decision making is more than existential. You don’t know when you’ll get to have an opportunity like this again.

Her lidded eyes stare into yours, anticipating your next move. Leaning into her ear, you moan into her as you penetrate her pussy with your shaft, her cry melding with yours into a harmonious sound. Your hands intertwine with hers, lifting them over her shoulders as you slip your cock into her tight, suffocating cunt. Missionary might be the least inviting of all the possible positions, but you wanted to see her crack, to see her fall apart, to see her break.

Unsurprisingly, she does. Between one deep nail into her after another, you watch Yena crumble into a lewd, pornographic heap of skin. Her eyes go shut and her lips curl, melt wide open, moaning and cursing like they’re the only words she ever knows. The same expressions that haunted you are back, but with the way you’re smiling, now you’re master over them—it doesn’t torment you anymore. 

Call yourself hypocritical, but you’re enjoying every moment of this, every moment of your cock buried inside of her cunt—for yours alone. Combine your collective moans with the sound of your thighs sloppily slapping against each other, you’re making beautiful music. 

“Fuck, Yena. Fuck, Yena.” Your thoughts loop between those two words, with nothing else to fill in the gaps, and it eventually materializes on your lips. There’s her breasts, bouncing vibrantly with each ripple of her body, so that might be the distraction. You grip them with a hand and it doesn’t change anything. At best, it only changes her pitch. You’re fucking her, that’s for sure. 

Many nights you’ve secretly wished and pined for this moment—and at times, you’ve slept with wet fingers pretending it would come. Now it’s here, at its apex, and you don’t want to let the time slip away—at least not yet.

Your body doesn’t follow, doesn’t recognize you’re one whole entity. It’s rebellious. It thrusts, it picks up speed, it only knows to go either 0 or 100. There’s no in-between. Yena’s perfect figure recognizes how unruly you are. Her pussy flexes against your cock harshly. It may as well be a death grip. It’s almost taunting to see how difficult she makes it for you to slip out, so determined to make you cum in as little time as possible. 

She has places to be, but you’ll make sure she doesn’t walk out of here unless it’s limping.

Even that proves to be counterproductive. The way you rail her, exert every last bit of effort into ensuring your dick is deeply buried inside her as humanly possible proves to be too much for your own body. Your pelvic joints flare up, ache and sore, pleading for you to be gentle, but anything less would be a disappointment to Yena. That’s how she wants it, and you’re more than willing to sacrifice yourself to give her everything.

You’ve drowned out her loud screams at this point. Even the idea of a few more minutes seems out of reach. Yena helplessly quivers beneath you, screaming in both agony and joy as you wildly fuck her, completely submissive to your most radical of whims. Rational thinking is practically non-existent, only dependent on the most basic and primal of your instincts to end her—and yourself.

Mouth agape, exposed neck with red sores all over from marks you’ve unknowingly made, she cries out, aware of your plight, “I can feel you’re so close to cumming—Give it to me—I can tell how badly you want to cum—just give in and fill me up!”

You can’t even look at Yena, losing the last of your restraint rapidly by the second. The sight of your cock spearing her beneath doesn’t help either. It’s basically over. With a deep thrust and sigh, you give in and do as she says: fill her up. 

The groan you make is inhuman, borderline animalistic. Without thought, you let yourself go, fire thick shots of cum, one after another inside her soaked pussy. The painful but thrilling feeling lingers on for what may as well be hours. You can’t stop throbbing inside her, pulsating inside her greedy cunt, waiting for your cock to finally stop shooting a presumably infinite amount of seed to fill her with.

Using the last of your strength, you move yourself to the side with enough space that when you eventually crash, your outstretched arm gently settles atop her bare chest. Gone are the loud, deafening moans and unrecognizable bed creaks, replaced by deep, gentle breaths.

—————

Thank goodness it’s the weekend, otherwise you’d be worrying about the work day to come while you lie restless in bed. Actually, you do have something concerning—the heap of reports your boss gave you earlier that day. You’ll get it started after you’ve gotten enough rest, which will take you into the afternoon.

It’s not the monotony and the tedium of work driving you crazy tonight. It’s Yena. You both should have been completely tired by now, bodies completely drained of all their strength. Instead, you’re trying your hardest not to give in to her advances while she playfully demands another round with you. 

Toss and turn as many times as you want, pretend to act like you’re sound asleep as much as you want, she doesn’t buy into the act. She’s considerate enough to be gentle, but mischievous, kissing every part of you, clambering over your shoulders, looking at you with an unassailable bliss, all while you’re evidently miserable. You were done.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” she asks, so sweetly but quite taunting. Her arm wraps around your waist, teasingly going for your groin, completely numb at this point.

“I don’t.” A feeble lie. Even the slightest notion can start another wildfire, so you desperately avoid entertaining her, yet she proves to be more persistent than you bargained for.

“Come on, then. I suppose you don’t have a little more for me, right?” Yena flips you face up that you’re staring into each other’s eyes. She’s still hungry, still greedy, a fire still brightly lit within them. 

Sighing, you lightly lift your head, pulling her face close for a chaste kiss. Then she steals whatever control you have. It spirals out into a full-blown make out session.

Next thing you know, she’s riding you, moans overpowering the aching and groaning you loins feel, demanding every last drop out of you, yet you can do nothing but watch helplessly as you succumb to her wanton desires. 

Then you flip her around and pound her against the backdrop of a mirror, making your argument completely pointless.

Plenty of time has already gone to waste, and you will spend some more, but you don’t regret a single second of it.

—————

“Thank you for a wonderful time,” says Yena, cheekily smiling as she crosses beyond your entrance door. Fully dressed and mostly clean, she sounds like a guest for a simple dinner—as if you didn’t rail her five times throughout the night. 

“Yeah, thank you as well,” you say, holding your throat between words, unsure whether you’re feeling guilty or awkward—perhaps both, but it’s a terrible disguise for the high you’re actually feeling. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Gosh, you should just drop the act. I know you actually enjoyed it.” 

Caught red-handed, you lift your hands, shrugging your shoulders playfully. You’re lightly smirking, barely suppressing a chuckle. She’s right. “Yeah. Sure did.” 

“Comeback’s on Monday. Maybe I wear this outfit during the showcase,” she remarks—the first time she’s said something about her occupation throughout her stay with you. Winking, she adds, “I hope you enjoy the new music. I’ll show a different side of me.”

“Heh. I have already seen it.” 

“And I have already seen yours. To be quite honest, I quite like it.” Yena shoots continued winks at you, her favorite weapon of choice. “I’d like to see more of it, in fact.”

Tilting your chin up, amusement clearly written on your features, you fold your arms. “I know you’re busy and all, but I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again.”

“I don’t really have a lot going on. Just some appearances, but no serious music show promotions, so you’ll see me sooner than you think, who knows?” Yena waves you goodbye while you slowly but quietly pull the door on her, her cheery smile persistent even with the sight of your evident sadness. “Please rest, okay? Oh, and check your table later. See you.”

Instead of taking her words to heart, the dinner table is the first place you head to, not your bed. On the edge lies a polaroid of you two like a couple, her arms wrapped around you in a bear hug. Behind is a 10 digit number with a note written beneath in tiny letters, but with the three most encouraging words your eyes will have the joy of reading.

> Call me anytime. <3

—————

(A/N: I figured it was high time to write a Yena fic again. 34-35 days is like the longest gap between fics on a non-hiatus period. I thought it was kind of interesting to explore what happens to an OC after one of those fanmeets like that of Make me smile, make me scared. Thank you for reading!)

[kathlare]

please please please

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie’s new music video shoot is full of energy, but it’s the undeniable chemistry between her and Lando that steals the show. As they navigate playful tension and flirtatious moments on set, their connection becomes more than just professional.

Wordcount: 0.9 k

Warnings: smau, fluff

June 8th, 2024 - Los Angeles CA

liked by landonorris, zendaya, and others

ameliedayman: heartbreak is one thing, my egos another!

link in bio💋

View all 10,485 comments

landonorris: The video was hot, but I was the hottest part. 😏🔥 → ameliedayman: @landonorris You wish, babe. I was the one burning up the screen. 😘

f1gossiper69: Lando really out here living every man’s dream 😩

fashionfreak24: Omg the chemistry between you two… more than I can handle. 😍🔥

lilnorrisfan22: Can we talk about how Lando’s acting skills went from 0 to 100 real quick? 😂 → landonorris: @lilnorrisfan22 Had to step up for my girl. 😜

maxfewtrell: Song’s fire but y’all need to tone it down with all the PDA. 🤢

landonorris: PLEASE can you stop looking so good in this video, babe? 😵‍💫 → ameliedayman: @landonorris I told you, you can’t handle all of me. 😉

hayesgrier: Acting or not, Lando’s got some serious simp energy in this vid. Respect. 😂 → landonorris: @hayesgrier When it’s her, it’s not simping, it’s dedication. 😉

f1fanatic69: That was way too much, I almost passed out watching it. 😳

keeganpalmer: Damn, the way you two look at each other... I felt that. 😳🔥 → ameliedayman: @keeganpalmer Told ya, we’ve got that special spark. 😉

thisisrozzi: Y’all seriously made the whole music video a masterpiece. Proud of you, babe. 💖 → ameliedayman: @thisisrozzi Couldn’t have done it without your support, love. 😘

minniemills: Okay but how do you make heartbreak look so… chic?? Obsessed. 😍

aaliyahmendes: Queen behavior!!!

stelladayman: I don’t care what anyone says—Oscar-worthy performance, sis. 👏 → ameliedayman: @stelladayman Coming from you? High praise. I’m crying. 🥲

consarroyuelo: ¿Cómo le haces para estar TAN diosa siempre? Quiero tu secreto. 🔥👑 → ameliedayman: @consarroyuelo Solo me dejo llevar por el drama, amiga. 😉

francisca.cgomez: Obsessed with the video, the song, the vibe… EVERYTHING. 🔥 → ameliedayman: @franciscacgomez You’re my vibe. Love you. 💋

fan3: This is giving main character energy and side-eye to all the exes. Iconic. → fan4: @fan3 Bet they’re crying in their bedrooms rn. 😂

emiliamernes: Esta canción es ARTE. Ya quiero escucharla en vivo🔥 → ameliedayman: @emiliamernes Siempre un show para ti, reina. 💋

madisonbeer: Obsessed. That’s all. Obsessed. 🔥 → ameliedayman: @madisonbeer Takes one to know one. 😘

--------------

Months before...

The set was buzzing with energy. Crew members darted back and forth, adjusting lights and setting up props, while Amelie adjusted the fit of her outfit in front of the mirror. The air smelled faintly of hairspray and perfume, the low hum of chatter mixing with the faint sound of music playing from a speaker nearby. Today was the day: the shoot for her new music video for Please Please Please, and things were about to get real interesting.

She stood in front of the mirror, her hands running over the satin fabric of the dress, a subtle mix of elegance and seduction. The song wasn’t out yet, but the buzz around it was already building. The video was going to be something special—something fun, a little cheeky, just like the song itself.

—Amelie, we’re ready for you,— the director called out, waving her over to the set.

Amelie’s heart fluttered. She had been looking forward to this all week. And she couldn’t help but feel a little extra excited because today—of all days—her boyfriend, Lando, was here with her.

—Ready, babe?— Lando’s voice came from behind her.

She turned to face him, her lips curving into a grin. He was dressed in black jeans and a slightly oversized, well-worn graphic tee that only added to the effortless charm he exuded.

—I was born ready,— she said with a wink, slipping her arm through his.

Lando smirked. —I’m sure you were. But this time, you’re not getting all the attention.—

—Oh, please,— she teased. —You’re lucky I even agreed to let you be in my video.—

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear. —You’re not the only one who can pull off a look like this,— he whispered.

Amelie gave him a playful shove, her smile never leaving her face. —You’re such a dork.—

But even as she said it, she couldn’t help but admire how good he looked—how good they both looked together. She had to admit, this whole idea of putting him in her video had been a bit of a wild thought at first. But now, with him by her side on set, she was excited for it.

—Alright, Amelie, Lando, you two ready?— The director’s voice cut through the playful banter.

Both of them turned to face him, ready for action.

The video concept was simple but effective. Amelie would be in the spotlight, of course, singing her heart out to the camera, but the dynamic with Lando was what would make it really special. The video was all about chemistry—about flirtation and tension—and who better to share that with than Lando himself?

The first few scenes were just her. She sang the opening lines of Please Please Please, the camera following her as she moved through a minimalistic, yet luxurious set. The lighting was soft and seductive, casting shadows in all the right places, making her look like she belonged in a dream.

Lando watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed and a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Amelie could feel his eyes on her, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her pulse quicken.

When the time came for him to join her on camera, the atmosphere shifted. Lando stepped onto the set, looking effortlessly sexy as he leaned against the bar that had been set up for the scene. The chemistry between them was undeniable from the moment their eyes locked. The director had told them to play it cool, to keep it casual—but it was impossible. Their connection was too strong to pretend.

As Amelie sang, she moved closer to him, her body swaying to the beat. Lando’s eyes tracked her every movement, his lips curling up in that way he always did when he was amused—or aroused.

Amelie couldn’t help but tease him, letting her fingers brush against his chest as she danced around him. The playful touch sent a jolt through both of them. She knew exactly how to get under his skin, and he was loving every minute of it.

—You’re distracting me,— he said, his voice low, the hint of a growl in it.

She grinned, biting her bottom lip. —You like it.—

—Damn right I do,— he muttered, his hands sliding from the bar to her waist as he pulled her closer.

The cameras were rolling, capturing every moment, but Amelie could barely focus on that. Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, his eyes dark with that familiar hunger. He was making her feel things she probably shouldn’t have been feeling while on set, but it didn’t matter.

—Lando,— she whispered, her voice a breathy tease. —Stop looking at me like that. We’re supposed to be working.—

He smirked, lowering his face until their lips were almost touching. —Who says we can’t mix business with pleasure?—

She was just about to respond when the director’s voice came through the intercom. —Okay, you two... let’s keep it professional, yeah? We don’t want to break the camera.—

Amelie let out a laugh, pulling back slightly to catch her breath. She couldn’t deny how intense the moment had gotten, and from the way Lando was looking at her, he was feeling it too.

—I think they want to see us be professional, love,— she teased, her fingers brushing through his hair.

Lando groaned, clearly frustrated. —I swear, you drive me insane.—

Amelie shot him a knowing smile. —Maybe you like that.—

The director called out again, snapping them both back into the moment. —Alright, let’s pick it up from where Lando pulls Amelie closer for the kiss. Remember, it’s playful, flirty, but no full-on makeout. We want tension, not a porno.—

Amelie and Lando exchanged amused looks before Amelie grabbed his shirt and yanked him closer. —Let’s give them a show, then,— she whispered before capturing his lips in a teasing, yet heated kiss.

It was a brief moment, just enough to get the shot they needed. The cameras zoomed in, capturing every little detail—the slight smirk on Lando’s face, the way Amelie’s body molded against his. The tension between them was palpable, and they both knew it.

As they pulled away, Amelie couldn’t help but laugh. —So much for ‘keeping it professional.’—

Lando chuckled, his hand lingering on her waist. —Who says we can’t have a little fun while we’re at it?—

They didn’t need to say anything else. They both knew that when the cameras stopped rolling, they’d have plenty more to discuss. But for now, they were in their element—flirty, fun, and undeniably hot together.

And just like that, the day was over. The last take was wrapped, the crew began to pack up, and the set slowly emptied out. But as Amelie and Lando stood there, the energy between them hadn’t died down.

—You really do make everything fun, don’t you?— Amelie said, looking up at him with a smile.

—I try,— he replied, his hands finding her waist again as he pulled her in close. —You make it too easy.—

And with that, they walked off set together, ready to face whatever the night might bring.

[earthtoharlow]

Flashing Lights

15) In Case You Miss Me

Jack Harlow x Singer!OC

Series Masterlist

Jack pulled up to the studio to pick up Maryse, as they planned on spending the rest of the evening together. They were back in NY and would be taking a quick drive to New Jersey the following morning so they could attend the Video Music Awards where Jack would be hosting and performing. 

When he arrived the studio light was red, signaling that Maryse was recording. He watched her through the window, and no matter how many times he’s watched her perform he would always be awestruck by her talent. 

Her upcoming tour would be the first of many milestones in her career, and he couldn’t wait to see her shine on stage, captivating audiences with her undeniable talent.

As Maryse emerged from the studio, her face lit up as she noticed him. “How long have you been standing here?” Maryse asked, jumping in his arms to greet him. 

“Not long, but you were amazing in there!” He exclaimed, showering her with compliments. “You’re going to blow everyone away while on tour.”

Maryse’s face warmed at the praise, “Thanks babe,” her voice tinged with excitement. “I’m nervous, but I’m also really looking forward to it!”

As they drove back to her place a wave of sadness washed over Jack. On one hand he was happy and excited that Maryse was going to tour with Coldplay, knowing that this was everything she dreamed about but on the other hand he couldn’t shake away the nagging feeling of guilt that tugged at his heart. 

Jack knew he should be supportive, but deep down, a part of him wished she didn’t have to go, wishing they could stay together, cocooned in their own little world together. 

When they arrived back at the apartment, Jack put on a brave face, determined to savor the moments they had together before the tour pulled them apart. He laughed and joked as they tried (and failed) to cook dinner together before eventually deciding on ordering a pizza all while hiding the ache in his chest. 

Not wanting to ruin the evening together, Jack pushed aside his own feelings, not wanting to burden her with his worries. 

***

Their stylist teams had just left the room as they had just finished helping them get ready for the VMA’s. Jack watched as Maryse stood in front of the floor length mirror, carefully examining herself. He couldn’t help but smile as a sense of contentment washed over him. The faces she was making in the mirror as she fluffed her hair made his heart skip a beat. Despite being together for 7 months, he still found her captivating. 

When Maryse caught Jack watching, a hint of shyness flickered across her face, her face beginning to warm. Jack found it endearing that she still got flustered by his gaze. After Paris, the tension from before seemed like a distant memory.

Jack walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You look amazing.” He murmured. Planting a soft kiss on her cheek. Maryse’s nervousness melted away as she leaned into his embrace. 

“You aren’t going to match with me?” he joked, playfully pouting as he ran his hands up and down her hips. Maryse was wearing a custom green two piece set from Romeo Hunte with a lace green bra to match, while Jack’s was wearing a custom brown leather Hermes suit that she knew he was going to sweat in as soon as he stepped outside. 

Maryse turned to him, a twinkle in her eye, and laughed. “Don’t worry, darling,” she replied with a grin. “We’ll be matching with your second outfit of the night.”

Jack nodded in satisfaction as he wrapped his arms around her once more, leaving kisses down her neck. “How mad do you think everyone would be if we just stayed here in the hotel and ditched the award show?”

She threw her head back and laughed, and lightly elbowed him in the stomach. “VERY! Now come on, I know Neelam already sent you a message ten minutes ago saying the sprinter was here. I don’t want her to hate me more.” Maryse said, pushing him away lightly and grabbing her clutch and heading towards the door. 

“Wait for me!” Jack replied, quickly snatching his phone off the bed, rushing after her. “She doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t know you like I do!”

Maryse rolled her eyes and continued walking to the elevators, Jack quickly caught up and grab her outreached hand. 

It was quiet as they stood in the elevator, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Jack pressed Maryse against the wall of the elevator, his body pressed against hers as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Maryse’s breath hitched at the suddenness of his actions but she quickly surrendered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. 

They were so wrapped into each other they almost didn’t hear the ding of the elevator doors making them reluctantly break away from one another with flushed cheeks and ragged breaths.

“You sure you don’t want to stay here?” Jack asked as they stepped out into the lobby. Maryse wanted to so bad, and Jack knew it.

“No.” She lied and walked ahead of him. Jack couldn’t help but smirk as he followed behind her, ignoring the look on Neelam’s face when they climbed into the car. 

***

Jack smiled big as the paparazzi snapped away, a sense of validation washed over him as he held his four awards of the night each a testament of his talent. This moment felt like a turning point.

For months, Jack had been grappling with self doubt and insecurities as he was haunted by the negative reviews on his album. The harsh criticism weighed heavily on him, almost casting a shadow over his passion. Tonight made him realize that those voices of doubt were just that—voices. They didn’t define him or his artistry. 

Amidst the sea of flashing lights, he caught Maryse’s eyes from the side of the stage, watching with a huge smile that mirrored his own. Jack began to wave her over, wanting her to celebrate with him. Maryse rushed to his side, unable to contain her overwhelming excitement. 

Maryse ignored all the camera men and began pressing kisses all over his face, each one a testament to her unwavering support. Each kiss, she whispered words of encouragement and adoration. Her love radiated with each kiss. 

After arriving back to the hotel room, after celebrating with the crew Jack realized that he didn’t want to start his world tour next week without Maryse by his side. The thought of being apart from her, even for a moment, felt unbearable especially after their last argument. He didn’t care if others saw him as clingy or overly attached—waking up in a different city every day without Maryse just didn’t feel right. 

In a moment of vulnerability, he reached out to Maryse. His voice trembled as he confessed his inner turmoil. “I don’t want to go,” he admitted, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Maryse’s eyes softened, “What’s wrong? You love touring!” She said concerned, gently placing a hand on his cheek. She had never seen him like this.

“I’m going to miss you too much, I’m sorry if this makes me look clingy…I just.” Jack couldn’t finish his thoughts as he was getting more emotional. 

Maryse immediately pulled him as close as she could. “I’m going to miss you too.” It was the only thing she thought about as she watched him on stage tonight. 

“Are you not scared?” Jack asked softly, eyes red from crying. The fear in Maryse’s eyes mirrored his own. “Terrified.” She admitted with a rueful smile. “The thought of being apart from you for months—it’s like a constant knot in my stomach.”

His hold on her tightened as she spoke. The weight of their separation hung heavy on the air. They both knew the sacrifices they would have to make for the sake of their careers, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

“But…” Maryse began “I refuse to let our fear define us. Yeah, we’ll be apart but we’re always going to stay connected. We’ll make time for each other, even if it’s just a quick phone call or a text message.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “We have no choice but to make this work.” grappling with the reality of their situation.

“Is it weird that I miss you already?” 

“You still have me,” Maryse reassured him, her gaze filled with unwavering love. “Even though we’ll be miles apart, my heart will always be with you.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, despite the sadness that weighed heavy on his soul. “And you’ll always have me too,” he replied, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet room. “No matter where we are in the world, my love for you will never waver.”

***

AN: just a little filler chapter before the next part where they’re away from each other 😬 and thank you always to @harlowcomehome for helping me 🫶

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[redrose10]

Hi i had this idea of a short oc and idols BTS. Where they meet during the concert prep and OC is super strong and can whistle like a pro. Not the normal whislte though the one with fingers and is very loud

Here you go! I hope this is okay.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was coming towards the end of your first week as a member of the styling team for BTS. Between having to lay out the clothes and help dress seven members for multiple performances, interviews, fan meets, photo shoots, and TWO music video shoots you were exhausted. The stress of all of this was starting to get to you. It didn’t help that the boys seemed to like to give you a hard time. A showing of love and acceptance according to one of the more senior stylists, but you saw it as they were testing the waters to see just how much you’d let them get away with.

Lucky for them you were pretty easy going and had more patience than most.

That’s why you didn’t even flinch when Jungkook “accidentally” popped off two buttons on his dress shirt five minutes before an interview causing you to sew so fast the needle pricked your finger countless times.

Or when Hobi stole all of your style plans and turned them into little origami swans leaving you having to guess who was wearing what to where for the whole day.

OR when Taehyung sat there watching and even recording as Yeontan happily chewed away on one of Jin’s shoes he needed for a photoshoot leaving you to have to run to the nearest store to purchase a new pair in panic.

You kept reminding yourself that today was the final day and then you were off for a few. The boys just had this final interview which should be easy enough to get through so you put the finishing touches on their outfits before standing back admiring your work. They could be annoying, but damn they were handsome.

Then you saw it. Their manager walked in carrying trays of drinks and bags of donuts as a quick breakfast since they’re all that was open. You looked at the boys standing there in their crisp all white outfits and your heart stopped.

Jungkook picked up a donut that was particularly heavy on the chocolate frosting and he smirked in your direction as he took as big a bite as he could. Frosting falling to the floor.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Namjoon going for a jelly filled one. It seemed like it was in slow motion, but you watched as a little glob of raspberry jelly fell from the donut landing directly in the middle of Yoongi’s thigh leaving a bright red stain. He jumped up waiving his hands trying to find a towel, but in the process knocked over his iced americano causing the liquid to spill all over the back of Jimin who was sitting on the carpet next to him unaware of what had just happened.

Jimin jumped up thanks to the ice cold drink running down his spine. Thinking that Yoongi dumped the drink on him on purpose he grabbed the nearest donut he could, a strawberry filled with pink frosting and sprinkles, and smeared it all over the front of Yoongi’s shirt.

Before you could even react Yoongi grabbed a drink from the table, matcha of course, and tried throwing it at Jimin. But thanks to Jimins quick reflexes he ducked, the drink completely missing him and instead landing all over Jin’s white pants.

Today was supposed to be easy. Today was supposed to be simple. You’d had enough of these guys shenanigans and were tired of them making your job difficult. You were going to set them straight.

All seven members were bickering back and forth. The other stylists trying to do damage control and save what they could. You on the other hand took a deep breath before placing two fingers in your mouth and whistling as strongly and loudly as you possibly could. Something you’d learned from your mom when you were younger.

Immediately everyone in the room froze and looked at you with wide eyes. “How did that sound come out of her? She’s so tiny?”, Jin whispered.

Jungkook gently placed Yoongi back on the floor, Hobi dropped the cinnamon sugar donut he was trying to stuff into Namjoon’s mouth, Taehyung smacked Jimin’s hand away when he tried to dump the last little drop of coffee onto Jin. Bang PD even sat up a little straighter.

“Alright listen. I’m done playing these games. You are all grown men so start acting like it. No more making things difficult or I swear on everything that I will make you regret it. Because I will spend every day hoping and wishing that each one of you wakes up feeling like there is a pebble in your shoe. Whenever you walk anywhere there will just be a tiny little annoying feeling on the bottom of your foot, but when you take off your shoe? Bam! Nothing is there. But you will still feel it.”

Jungkook started to snort at your odd threat, but Yoongi quickly smacked his shoulder to shut him up.

You continued, “Understood? Good! Now let’s clean up and then remove any of your clothes that are stained and we’ll replace them with what we can. There’s only fifteen minutes until your interview so let’s hurry up.”

As quickly as possibly the boys cleaned up their mess while the make-up artists and stylists tried to salvage what they could.

Thankfully the interview went great. The guys looked presentable. Not what you’d imagined, but not the worst you’d ever seen them look either. The guys all apologized for the way they had been acting and promised it wouldn’t happen any more. They even had dinner delivered from your favorite restaurant as a peace offering.

As you were packing up the last of your belongings and making your way to your car you found a very disgruntled looking Namjoon standing in the hallway. He had two fingers in his mouth and was blowing so hard you thought he might pass out. When he noticed you giving him a concerning look he awkwardly chuckled, “Y/N, please teach me how to whistle like that. That was amazing. I could really use it. I’ve been trying for hours, but I just can’t get it.”

You giggled before motioning for him to follow you offering to give him a lesson.

[vieramars]

Making this its own post bc it wasn't getting seen as a reblog

Re: a very niche oddly specific fluffy TMA au

So I'm in a swing dance club and I started thinking about what if the characters of the magnus archives were all in a swing dance club. Absolutely no regard for canon, just all the characters hanging out having a time.

Half the characters do not know how to dance. Some are really good at it. Elias is the club leader who thought having a position of authority would be fun but now he's stuck managing a room full of chaos gremlins with fear powers.

Half the playlist is mechs songs. Nikola insists on doing live music every few meets.

Jon watches tons of videos on swing moves in order to learn them and is constantly watching his feet to make sure he's doing the steps right. He's a follow and almost exclusively dances with Martin. Even though he helped form the club he perpetually has new awkward member energy. Still, once he's had plenty of time to practice a move, he can do it perfectly nine times out of ten.

Martin is a much more confident dancer than someone who'd just met him would think. He's a lead and his musicality is on point. He's really good at songs with tempo changes, and his favorite move is probably swing kicks.

Tim and Sasha are terrifying on the dance floor. Sasha's the lead and every dance she's trying to beat her own record for how many times she can spin Tim consecutively. They prefer open position and every other move is a basket turn. 

Michael showed up one day and just became part of the club by being there, then later invited Helen along. Both of them like to dance with pretty much everyone, and both of them love sliding doors. Sometimes involving actual distortion doors. Their dance moves are reality bending and they always have the flashiest outfits. Michael is ambidancetrous (comfortable leading or following) and Helen is a lead.

Agnes wears very thick gloves so that she can dance with people without burning their hands. To avoid accidents she's also very good at no-contact moves. Sometimes she brings Jack over for club meetings. She's a lead and her favorite move is sugar pushes though she also likes line dances and does the best charleston out of the whole group.

Daisy and Basira are inseparable. But they are both leads. Rather than dancing with other people they just solo jazz and line dance together.

No matter who she's dancing with or what moves they're doing Nikola is killing it. Her favorite dances are steal dances where everyone's rapidly switching partners. She's always the fastest to find a new partner and get back into step. She does everything with a flourish and is an expert at dips of any kind.

Melanie and Georgie are just vibing. Probably the calmest dancers in the room despite being far from the calmest people. Georgie can dance the entire length of the meeting without taking a break.

Gerry mostly only dances with Michael, Mike, or Tim because they can match his energy the best. He loves fast-paced songs and complicated moves, and can absolutely fuck it UP at the shim sham.

Mike Crew also really likes fast-paced dances and loves spinning his partner until they might as well be in the vast for how dizzy they are. Dancing with him comes with a spin at your own risk disclaimer.

Oliver is more of a slow song enjoyer, and he joins Jon and Nikola in the live music performances. While Agnes is the best at many variations of the charleston, Oliver is the best at the cowboy charleston specifically, and he can do it while playing a fiddle.

Peter Lukas REFUSES to dance except for rarely when Elias convinces him to, in which case they have a vibe that's somewhere between overly formal ballroom dancing and Morticia and Gomez doing the most. 

Jane Prentiss is mostly here for the snacks and the vibes but she joins in for warm-ups and line dances. The only person she'll dance together with is Agnes cause they both prefer the least amount of physical contact possible.

Annabelle Cane is the main dance instructor and she's a phenomenal teacher. She knows all the moves by heart and she's rocking the roaring 20s aesthetic. If she's leading a line dance, everyone's in perfect sync.

If I missed anyone lmk, this is all coming directly out of my brain so some characters might've gotten lost in the stream of consciousness. I'm open to asks about dance pairs, who leads/follows in that pair, and what songs they would pick if they had the floor 👀

By the way, dance pairs do not equal ships! I do ship a few of these pairs (and it makes sense to me for couples to gravitate towards dancing together), but anyone can dance with anyone!

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N attends her first Harry Styles concert and catches the unwanted attention of a knothead alpha. Luckily Harry and his team are able get to you in time, leading to some confusing thoughts about the popstar.

Previous Chapters: Prologue

CW: Attempted assault (nothing too graphic but it is there)

Word Count: 4.7k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean you can’t go?” You ask incredulously. Going to the concert wasn’t even your idea. It was your friend Rachel’s and now she’s ditching you.

There’s a pause on the other end of the call before Rachel says, “It’s my dog. Well, my family dog that we’ve had since I was in middle school. She’s not doing well, and they think she only has a couple days left so now I have to drive back to Delaware to see her and say goodbye.”

“Oh my god, Rach, I’m so sorry!” And now you feel like a jerk for being mad at her canceling.

“Thanks. We knew it was coming but I hoped we had a few more weeks. Uhm, anyway, I need to finish packing and get on the road.”

“Of course, yea, safe trip home,” you quickly reply.

“You better take some videos of the concert and send them to me. Especially if he does something different for night one at MSG!”  

“Rachel, I’m not gonna have any idea if he’s doing stuff different from his last shows, as I have no idea what his shows are like. But I promise to send you a couple videos, okay?”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t watched any videos from tour. What rock do you live under again?” You laugh at her teasing, mostly cause it’s true. The fact that you’ve made it this far without knowing much about Harry Styles surprises even you. “Have fun for both of us tonight,” Rachel says.

“I will, give your dog a belly rub from me. Love you!”

“Love you too, bye!”

The call ends and you sit for a moment. You don’t really want to go to a concert alone, but that’s what your night now has in store. Rachel had tried calling some other people in your friend group, but they were all busy. You’d also texted your two best friends, Amelia and Violet, but it was too last minute for them to change plans and go with you.

So, alone it is.

You look at the outfit you had planned but decide against it. The leather pants and crop top ensemble isn’t exactly in your comfort zone, but Rachel chose it and wanted the two of you to match. Now that you’re on your own you switch to a pair of jean shorts with tights underneath and a flowy top, something you’re much more comfortable with. Harry’s music plays in the background while you get ready. You’d been studying the setlist to make sure you would know at least some of the songs he’ll perform. You’re happy when you find yourself singing along, showing that listening on repeat had worked.

After getting dressed you do your hair and makeup, then drive to your local train station. Living in north Jersey has its perks, and the quick train ride directly to Madison Square Garden might just be the biggest.

You get off the train and follow the trail of feathers from the boas which leads you directly to the venue. You show your ticket and are led to the entrance for the pit.

Being in the pit had also been Rachel’s idea. You’d never done that before, and you would have preferred somewhere with a seat, and honestly a better view from a higher vantage point. But you’d agreed to pit and in the weeks leading to the show you’d actually become excited to experience something new.

But now that you’re alone, you’re a bit overwhelmed. You’re one of the last people to arrive, since it’s only half an hour before the opener is set to start, so you end up hanging in the back. But even then, the large amount of people around you has you on edge.

Being a single female is hard. Guys are always hitting on women, feeling entitled to your company, not taking no for an answer. But being a single female omega is even harder. The way you see it betas have it easy, especially since they’re the majority. And alphas? Well, what do they have to worry about? They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they have their alpha voices that can command you and take away your free will if they want. Plus, they have an unmatched sense of superiority, thinking they’re so special just because of their secondary gender.

But you’re an omega. Often considered to be the weakest gender. Which is stupid. You’re the gender that gives birth, which takes way more strength than alphas could ever possess. And yet you’re still looked down upon by plenty of people in society.

So, you choose to hide your secondary gender. Only your family members plus Ameila and Violet know the truth. You don’t need anyone judging you based on one little trait.

Going out in public, especially at places as crowded as MSG always gives you anxiety. You never know if a knothead alpha is going to be there and literally sniff you out as an omega. But you trust your suppressants and soothers and, most importantly, your scent blockers, to do their jobs and hide your omega status from the strangers around you.

The pills have never failed in you in the eight years since you started taking them. You have no reason to doubt them now.

And yet, you can’t help but feel uneasy about the attention a certain man in the crowd is giving you. He is undoubtedly an alpha, one that for sure does not use scent blockers. In fact, you’re almost convinced he’s doing something to broadcast his scent, somehow make it even stronger. It’s an unpleasant odor, one that practically burns your nose, but you pretend you can’t smell it. Afterall, a beta wouldn’t be able to notice the scent.

But as much as you try to ignore the scent, going so far as to move to the entire other side of the pit, it still lingers. Because you are most definitely being followed. Seemingly casual glances at the crowd around you shows that the man has moved with you.

Going closer to the stage is the last thing you want to do, but getting deeper in the crowd might be what you need to shake off the man. The girls around you gladly welcome you and make space for you to join. A moment later the opening act starts to play, and you no longer smell the alpha. You’re relieved and get into the music for a few minutes.

Then the girls around you start to move, and you hear them say something about the bathroom. You decide to go with them since you could use a bathroom break and there will be safety in numbers. You keep your head down and casually follow, in hopes that the man won’t see you leaving the crowd.

Only once in the bathroom do you lift your head up. There’s a small line since most people are out listening to the first band. A moment later it’s your turn and you enter the stall. After using the restroom, you notice a large rip in your tights. You look at them, hoping they can be considered fashionably torn, but then you see another hole and decide to give up on them altogether.

It takes you a couple minutes to get rid of them, needing basically to fully undress from the waist down to get them off. Finally, you’re put together again, and you exit the stall, throw out the destroyed tights, and wash your hands. You notice that the group you came with is gone. In fact, the entire bathroom is now empty.

You sigh, disappointed that you’re on your own again, but you suck it up and start making your way back to the pit.

The second you walk out the bathroom door you smell it. Him. That acrid, somehow fishy, definitely revolting scent that alerts you that the alpha is nearby.

Before you even see him you hear him say, “Be quiet, and follow me.”

Shit. That’s an alpha command. You’re aware of that fact, but unable to fight it. You want to run, go back to the crowd, but you have no choice but to follow this man deeper into the back hallways. You want to scream, but every time you open your mouth, no sound comes out.

He leads you to a deserted corner, pushing you so your back is against a wall, and says, “Now stay quiet, and don’t move.”

Again, you do as he says, not only because of the command that you have to follow, but also due to the fear paralyzing you to the spot and rendering you silent.

“What a good little omega,” he says as he walks closer. He leans towards your neck, breath ghosting over your mating spot, and a loud whimper escapes you.

Realizing that you don’t need words to call for help, you begin to let out whines and whimpers as well as release distressed pheromones. Sure, you have scent blockers, but they’re not perfect and fear this strong will surely overpower them. You hope it’s enough to alert any other alphas nearby that there is an omega in danger.

You see the anger cross the man’s face, note the furious pheromones he’s releasing, but before he even reacts, your world goes dark.

***

Harry’s stylist is putting the finishing touches on his hair when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Harry says.

The door opens and he sees his band standing just outside the room.

“Blood Orange is about to start,” his drummer, Sarah, says. “You coming to watch with us?”

“Yea, of course. I’ll join you in a minute.”

As soon as he’s left alone, Harry takes some calming breaths. Night one of fifteen consecutive sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. He can’t believe how far he’s come in his career. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself that he’s worked hard for this, that he’s completely ready.

After spraying one more dose of scent blockers, he walks out of his room and goes through the hallways to find his band. They’re at the end of one hall, standing at the opening they’ll use later to walk to the stage. Harry joins them, making sure they’re all back far enough that they are still hidden from the fans.

Harry mingles with his band while they wait for the opener to start their set. But after a minute, Harry starts to get an uneasy feeling. He himself isn’t nervous or scared, so he really doesn’t understand where this sudden anxiety is coming from.

Harry looks around and sees a worried look on Sarah’s face. Aside from Harry himself, Sarah is the only other Alpha in the band. So the fact that they both have a sudden bad feeling while the betas around them seem unbothered has Harry on edge.

He begins to look for any type of potential threat. Right away he notices that the two Alpha security guards are scanning the area as well, hinting that they’ve picked up on the same thing. One of them walks away to start looking for anything that could be going wrong.

Blood Orange takes the stage, and that anxious feeling seems to go away. Harry checks with Sarah and she’s feeling better too, so they assume whatever was wrong has been taken care of.

Everyone enjoys the first few songs, and suddenly, the feeling comes back, way stronger than before. Harry’s alpha is immediately alert. He starts moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. He hears footsteps and sees Sarah and a security guard following close behind.

None of them know exactly where the trouble is, they just follow their instincts through the backstage hallways. Suddenly, the feeling of overwhelming terror hits them, and they can faintly hear whimpers coming from a distressed omega.

They start to run in the direction the sounds are coming from. Rounding a corner, they come across a scene that has their blood boiling.

There’s a female omega, seemingly unconscious, being physically held up against a wall by a male alpha.

“Let her go,” Harry growls out using his alpha voice. It’s less effective on the man than it would be on an omega, but his grip on the girl involuntarily loosens. Harry and the security guard move in to pull the alpha off, and Sarah runs forward to catch the girl.

More security guards move in and drag the alpha away to be questioned.

Harry’s focus shifts to the omega now being held in Sarah’s lap on the floor. Adrenaline is still coursing through Harry’s body, but he feels himself relaxing faster than he thought possible. That’s when he realizes Sarah is releasing calming pheromones. He immediately works to do the same, rather than continue to broadcast the anger he’s feeling.

He knows his emotions can affect the vulnerable omega, and the last thing he wants to do is cause her most stress.

His most pressing worry is that she’s dropped. It wouldn’t be all that surprising. Omegas tend to drop during stressful situations. This can be dangerous for a number of reasons, especially if they don’t have a trusted alpha to keep them safe while they’re under.

Not only can they not protect their bodies, but a drop can also be a scary experience mentally. Omegas have described it as feeling untethered, like they’re stuck in darkness, unable to find a way out. There are good drops as well, ones you go into on purpose to give your mind rest. This is always done when there is an alpha there to hold and scent them and keep them safe and grounded throughout.

But if this is a drop, Harry knows it would be a bad one, and they’d need to gently bring her up immediately.

“Sarah?” Harry says to get the other alpha’s attention.

“Yes?” she replies, not taking her eyes off the girl.

“Do you think she’s dropped?”

“No. At least not fully. I can still catch a bit of her scent. If she went fully under it would have disappeared completely.”

There’s movement all around them, members of venue security and Harry’s team all coming and going to ensure everyone is safe. Music and loud cheers can be heard, meaning the opening act if still playing, that the show was not interrupted by what happened backstage.

Harry and Sarah are focused solely on the omega, until they hear a familiar male voice say, “There you guys are. Sarah, you scared the shit out of me running off like that.”

She looks up at her husband, Mitch, and smiles sheepishly before saying, “Sorry, I really didn’t think. We heard her distressed whines and just reacted.”

“Is she okay?” Mitch asks, crouching down to be level with the group on the floor.

“We think so,” Harry answers. “There was an alpha who had her cornered. Not sure what exactly he was planning but it was obviously nothing good. She was unconscious when we got to her. Just wish she’d wake up so we can check that she’s really unharmed.”

“Is she in a drop?” Mitch asks. Being a beta he’s not as knowledgeable about these things but he knows enough to be concerned about the girl.

“No, definitely not a full drop. But I’ve been flooding the area with calming pheromones and she’s still not waking up,” Sarah says worriedly.

“Maybe she just senses unknown alphas around her. Why don’t I try holding her and you guys move away a bit?” He senses how reluctant they are to move away from the omega, but eventually they listen to Mitch.

He settles on the ground and Sarah passes the omega to him before moving to give them space. After another minute the girl begins to stir, groggily at first before her eyes shoot open and she jumps up to move away from all the people around her. They watch cautiously, unsure what to do with the sudden change in the situation.

***

For awhile you’re stuck in the dark. This isn’t a drop, not really. You’ve only ever dropped twice but you can tell there’s a difference this time. You’re still aware of what’s going on around you, even if the details are fuzzy.

The alpha is gone. That you know for sure. The awful smell is gone, replaced by a much more pleasant one. It’s a mix of black tea and maybe the ocean? Whatever it is reminds you of early morning walks on the beach during family vacations. You relax more into this scent, and then notice that fresh laundry smell which always means someone is releasing calming pheromones.

You start to relax, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. You can still sense multiple alphas, which keeps you a bit on edge. You try to open your eyes, but you’re still in a deep fog, probably due to the mix of intense emotions and the multiple alpha commands you’d been subjected to.

You don’t realize that someone is holding you until they shift and place you in another person’s arms. The alpha scent fades and you know the person now holding you is for sure a beta.

Finally, you manage to open your eyes. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but when you do, you’re overwhelmed, and honestly a bit embarrassed. Harry Styles, the Harry Styles, the world-famous popstar you’re here to see, is sitting across the hall from you, studying you closely. Next to him is a woman you recognize as his drummer.

After these discoveries, you fully realize your current position; that you’re being held in someone’s lap. One glance at the man shows it’s Harry’s guitarist. You’re no longer embarrassed. No, now you’re completely mortified. You quickly extract yourself from his hold and stand up, looking at the group, totally speechless.

They slowly stand as well, all looking at you. And not just them, but the other dozen or so people that are still in the hallway. There are so many eyes on you, watching you, and you just want to disappear.

Picking up on your unease, Harry says, “Why don’t we go somewhere less exposed, hm? You can hang in my dressing room and maybe have a medic look you over if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you begin to nod your head, just wanting to get somewhere quiet with less people. He reaches out as though to place his hand on your back and lead you but seems to think again and pulls his arm back. Instead, he walks ahead, and you follow, Mitch and Sarah coming as well.

You arrive at the room, groaning when you see more people waiting there. One’s the medic Harry mentioned, another is obviously a police officer, and the third is a man you don’t recognize.

“Harry, need to you choose your outfit and get dressed. We’ll take care of, uhm, sorry I didn’t catch your name,” says the man.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say immediately, surprised at just how scratchy your voice comes out.

Sarah must pick up on it because she asks you, “Would you like a cup of tea love?”

You can’t help but smile and let out a laugh at that.

“What’s go funny?” she asks, smiling as well.

“It’s just, your scent, it definitely smells like tea. And the first thing you say to me is about tea. Sorry, I know it’s not polite to comment on someone else’s smell,” you finish, head lowering in a new wave of embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended,”

“Plus, you’re right,” Harry adds. “Swear I can’t make a cup of tea without thinking of her.”

“Aw, H, you think of me? How sweet,” she says with a joking tone.

“Real sweet,” Mitch says, then adds, “But stay away from my girl.”

You smile watching the easy interaction, happy to be distracted by their banter, sipping on the tea Sarah brings you.

That is until the man, whom you’ve learned is Harry’s manager, Jeff, reminds Harry that he’s supposed to be getting dressed, and the cop and medic walk over to you. There’s a table in one corner of the room and they lead you to it.

“Y/N, I’m Kate, I’m just going to get your vitals and check you over to make sure you’re okay, is that alright with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” you reply.

“And I’m Officer Michaels, is it okay if I ask you some questions about the incident tonight?"

“Of course.”

And so, as Kate does a quick exam you tell the whole story to the officer, starting with the uneasy feeling when you first noticed the man, all the way to him using his alpha voice to corner you in a back hallway.

Harry had reentered the room by this point, dressed in his show outfit and looking completely ready to get on stage. But he’s making no moves to leave the room, even though Jeff is reminding him the show is supposed to start in five minutes. Mitch and Sarah leave to finish getting ready themselves.

“Are we all set here?” You ask Kate and Officer Michaels.

“I have everything I need,” he replies. Kate adds, “Everything checks out just fine,” and they both exit the room as well.

This leaves you with just Harry and Jeff.

“Great, so I guess I should go back to the pit then?” You knew you were holding everything up and didn’t want to be more in the way than you already have been.

“Actually, Y/N, it would probably be best if you stay here for the show. Jeff, can you go grab Jada for me?”

The man nods, leaving you alone in the room with Harry. He motions to the couch, inviting you to sit and you do so. He sits on the coffee table facing you.

“I know you want to see the concert, and I know the man is gone, but I have to admit, my alpha is a bit on edge right now. To be completely honest, I don’t know if I could go out there and perform if you’re not completely safe. I would really like it if you stayed in this room and watched the concert on the TV over there. I promise to get you and your friends tickets to another show, alright?”

You’re taken aback by this, surprised by how much he seems to care about you, a random fan he’s never met before. And knowing that his alpha was triggered by what happened to the point where it’s still uneasy is a pretty big deal. That normally doesn’t happen with strangers. Sarah was no longer worried, and the alpha security guards were completely fine the second they caught the man.

So why was Harry’s alpha still calling the shots? It would make sense if you were partners, or at the very least, friends. Maybe Harry does truly care that deeply about all of his fans. That must be it. Because it certainly can’t be you in particular. There’s nothing special about you, other than being a damsel in distress and nearly derailing his show.

He must see the confusion on your face and continues, “Jada will be here in a moment, and she’ll hang out with you. Anything you need, just ask her. I won’t see you after the show, I leave right from the stage, but talk to Jada and Jeff and they’ll make sure you get home safely.”

“Okay, thank you so much for everything,” you reply.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Y/N, I am so very sorry something like this happened to you here. I always want this to be a fun, safe place for everyone.”

“It’s not your fault. Please, don’t feel bad. It is completely that knothead’s fault. You guys are the ones that saved me.”

He reaches forward and places his hand on top of yours, just for a second. Your hand tingles as he pulls away, like a bolt of electricity had just gone through it. You meet his eyes, and see he felt it too. You stare at each other, frozen for a moment, until there’s another knock at the door.

Harry stands quickly and introduces you to Jada as she joins you on the couch.

“Okay, I have to go before Jeff kills me. Y/N please give Jada your contact info so we can get those new tickets to you. Get some safe,” he says.

“Thank you, break a leg,” you reply and a second later he’s gone.

You talk to Jada throughout the start of the show, smiling as she lets you in on some behind the scenes info about the tour. After a few songs she asks if there’s anything she can get you.

“I actually have kind of a weird favor. I was supposed to come with a friend, but she couldn’t come at the last minute. I promised to send her videos and she’s going to be suspicious if I don’t have any. Would you be able to take a couple videos from the pit? I just don’t want to have to explain what happened. At least, not yet.”

“Of course, girl, I’ve got you. I’ll go get a couple of the next songs. Are you okay in here? There’s security outside the door so no one will be able to get in.”

“Yea, I’ll be fine,” you reply with a smile.

She walks out and you sink into the couch, grateful for a few minutes alone. Everyone has been so lovely, but it’s been a lot, and you need a minute just to breathe. You close your eyes, relaxing your body, and when you’re fully calm, you smell it.

There’s another alpha scent, but not one of a person nearby. No, it’s in the fabric of the couch. And the blanket next to you. And the shirt draped over the back of the couch.

It’s Harry’s scent. And it’s amazing. So clean, and fresh, with hints of chocolate, and the forest, and something sweet. Maybe roses, you think. Definitely a hint of floral. And once you catch the scent, it’s all you can think about, like it’s wrapped you in a warm hug. You feel better than you have in hours, the stress of the day fully washing away.

Even when Jada comes back, Harry’s smell is what you focus on the most. She notices you’re quieter than before and must assume you’re just tired from everything that has happened. She goes back out towards the end of the show to grab another video and you can’t help yourself. You turn to the side, right where the shirt is, and purposely take a deep breath. It’s almost overwhelming, your omega telling you to steal the shirt so you’ll always have the delicious scent with you.

That snaps you back to reality. You need to get your omega under control. You’re just like every other fan, thirsting for the amazing Harry Styles. Get a grip, you tell your omega. He’ll never be ours, don’t get attached.

Jada comes back, the show ends, and she leads you to a car that will bring you home. She asks for your car keys and ensures someone else will grab it from the station and drop it off at your place. She rides with you back to your home, along with a security guard.

You exchange numbers during the drive and breathe a sigh of relief when your apartment building comes into view. It’s been an exhausting day, and you can’t wait for a hot shower and your comfy bed.

You thank Jada for everything and notice them waiting for you to get safely inside before driving away.

You scorch your skin in the shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and burrow under your covers.

You fall asleep that night not thinking of the horrible alpha, and the horrors of the day, but rather of green eyes, soft hands on yours, and the delicious scent that can only belong to Harry.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, concerns, (requests), please let me know!

I hope I got everyone who asked to be added to the taglist. If I didn't get you or you want to me added just leave a comment or a message!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305 @creativelyeva @daphnesutton @selluequestrian @lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely @eversincehs1

[shininglynxie]

Alright, now that the English version of the Now or Never Seven song is out, I'm gonna share my thoughts and analyze it a bit.

Spoilers ahead! In case you haven't listened to it yet, you can watch the video here. If you'd like to hear the song in-game first, I reccomend skipping the post entirely.

I'll get my general impressions on Three Wishes out of the way first and then share my analysis of the lyrics.

I really like how this song starts with the idols that are always on the left during the news singing, with the ones that are usually on the right following, and then all of them singing in unison! It's just really cool to hear!

I really enjoy how they've tackled the themes of past, present, and future in each of the idols' verses. My favourite would have to be Deep Cut's, though, as their verse tackles the future from an almosst folk tale-like perspective, which is very in character for Deep Cut and their music. I also love that each idol gets to showcase their individual singing styles in their groups respective verses. All of the harmonies that idols share in this song are lovely! It's just so great to hear all of their voices together like that. This one harmony they have in the end is the best one ,though. It's just so beautiful!

Now I wanna highlight some one-off things I like about some parts of this song.

I really enjoy Pearl's rap part! Her lines feel very in character for her, and I love that!

These Deep Cut lines are also very cute and sweet! They really show just how close their bond is!

Now, let's do some lyric analysis. All of this is just gonna be my thoughts and ideas. I can't know for sure what the exact intentions behind any of these lyrics was.

We're starting off with the Squid Sisters' verse.

"We've come far, you and I, on our journey" - This line to me seems to be a nod to the more mature characterization that the Squid Sister have in Splatoon 3. Alongside, naturally, acknowledging the fact that they're longstanding Splatoon characters.

"Did you think back then we'd be here? Guiding others in our shoes?" - This line feels like the Squid Sisters directly acknowledging the people right around them - Off the Hook and Deepcut - other idols, who were no doubt inspired by them. Besides that, this lyric also almost feels like an acknowledgment of all the octarians, who the Squid Sisters have guided with their performances of Calamari Inkantation.

"Words you write, line by line, showing us your sights. Passed down to us so we sing them today, we feel you still." - These lines seem to be a nod to Callie and Marie's heritage in the Calamari County, as well as Calamari Inkantation, as it is a song that was passed down onto Callie and Marie that they still sing to this day.

Now it's time for Off the Hook.

Let's get the obvious out of the way first. Here are all of the lyrics that show just how gay Pearl and Marina are for each other: "My brightly burning radiance drew you to me", "I've been searching, all of my life, finally I've found my north star. My heart's synced up, a satellite, orbiting wherever you are.", "With you, nothing can stand in my way", "Having you by my side makes today perfect."

The line "My heart's synced up, a satellite, orbiting wherever you are." could also be a reference to Off the Hook's space-themed Splatoon 3 outfits

Lastly, it's Deep Cut's verse.

Like I mentioned above, it seems to me that Deep Cut's lyrics here are very folklore inspired, and they talk about the future from this sort of fantastical fictional perspective.

Like, for example, the hardships that you may face in the future are seemingly likened to monsters and forces of evil in such lines as: "Till we reach the lair where evil lies in wait!" and "The monsters that we face ahead?".

Shiver and Frye seem to almost put themselves in the shoes of the hero of a folk story in these lyrics in general.

The use of the word journey in the line "What in the world could be at the journey's end?" makes me think of the hero's journey which is a common story structure in folk tales.

The line "What will we find in the land beyond the sands?" treats the future almost like a goal to be reached by the hero of a tale.

Whew, that's it, I think. All in all, I absolutely love this song, and I'm very excited to hear all the other Grand Fest music that will undoubtedly be a part of it!

If you've read all the way until the end, thank you! If you enjoyed this ramble of mine, I do suggest you stick around, as this won't be the last. I'm sure of it.