#i liked a handful of songs off his first album when it came out and i dont know anything past that album and im fine with that

[mononijikayu]

triassic love song — gojo satoru.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.” The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile.  “They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation au!;

WARNING/S: edo japan era, nsfw, angst, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, engagement, hurt, physical touch, implied character death(s), natural disaster(s), mourning, pain, grief, happy ending, depiction of natural disaster(s), depiction of suffering, depiction of character death(s), depiction of violent destruction, depiction of grief, depiction of suffering, mention of implied character death(s), mention of death(s), mention of suffering, mention of destruction, mention of earthquake-related destruction, fiance! gojo, fiance! reader, reincarnated! gojo, reincarnated! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.6k words

NOTE: this song has ruined me beyond understanding. paris paloma, your album was just insane like im sorry. the fact that she wrote a song about the triassic cuddle inspired me to write something similar and i just??? i can't help myself. ive been so crazy about this song that i just decided, you know what. this is great. this is just something i would in fact like to bawl my eyes out writing. and i did. i did that. and i hope you cry with me and enjoy it. anyway, i love you all so much <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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IT WAS ENJOYABLE TO BE TOGETHER. IIt was forbidden to be together at this time, with the curfew in place, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when it came to him. The world outside was still, bound by rules meant to keep order, but within the quiet sanctuary of your family estate, the constraints of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant. Inside, warmth and anticipation filled the air, thick as the lingering scent of incense that wafted through the halls. The soft glow of lanterns bathed the room in a warm light, casting shadows across the delicate shoji screens, and reflecting off the polished wooden beams and traditional tatami mats beneath you.

Gojo Satoru sat beside you, his presence magnetic as always, but tonight, something was different. His signature smirk still played at the corners of his lips, and his bright, sparkling eyes glimmered with mischief. But beneath that playfulness was an undeniable depth, a new layer of emotion that wasn’t there before—an unspoken excitement, a shared understanding that you were no longer just childhood friends.

You were now betrothed.

Bound by the ties of engagement that your noble families had arranged, it felt as though a long-awaited dream had finally come true. And though you had known each other all your lives, this new bond between you carried a weight of its own, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. The happiness you felt was undeniable, shared in the way Satoru’s hand occasionally brushed against yours, in the subtle glances that said everything words couldn’t.

“You’re quieter than usual, don't you think?" Satoru remarked with a teasing lilt, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something more serious. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, as if daring you to speak first.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his intense scrutiny. “I could say the same about you, hm?” you replied, trying to match his teasing tone, though your voice betrayed the flurry of emotions swirling within you.

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning back on his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, it’s not every day you get engaged to your best friend!” he said, his tone light, but his expression softened as his usual bravado gave way to sincerity.

That sincerity took your breath away, and for a moment, the reality of the moment hit you fully. You weren’t just sneaking out to spend time with him as you had countless times before. This was different. This was a promise, one sealed by the love you’d always shared but never fully acknowledged until now.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know?” you admitted quietly, your eyes meeting his. “For us to be more than just... childhood friends.”

Satoru’s playful demeanor softened even more, a rare seriousness taking over his expression as he reached out to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, and the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“Me too.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For a long time.”

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. The world outside was still and silent, but inside this room, the air seemed alive with the energy between you. The gravity of the situation settled in—this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the beginning of something much bigger, something that both excited and terrified you.

“You always did like breaking the rules.” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Staying out past curfew, sneaking into my room like this...”

Satoru grinned, his usual confidence returning. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, right?” he quipped, though the softness in his gaze lingered. “Besides, how could I stay away from you tonight? Our first night as an engaged couple... I had to be here.”

You laughed, but it was a soft, breathless sound, the kind that came when words failed to fully capture the emotions coursing through you. “I’m glad you’re here, Satoru.” you whispered.

He smiled, that warm, heart-melting smile that was reserved just for you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Not the rules, not the expectations placed on you by your families, not even the looming responsibilities of your engagement. It was just you and him, sharing a quiet, intimate moment that you knew you would cherish forever.

“I brought something for you.” Satoru said after a brief pause, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a small bundle of paper. “I wrote these for you.”

You blinked in surprise, watching as he carefully unfolded the papers. “Poems?”

He nodded, the tiniest hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, something you rarely saw from him. “Yeah, don’t laugh!” he added quickly, though the look in his eyes told you he trusted you completely. “I’ve been working on them for a while...”

You took the papers from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. The sheets were neatly folded, each one carefully written in his distinct handwriting. It touched you deeply to know that he had taken the time to craft these for you, that he had poured his heart into something so personal. Something for you, with all his love.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I could never laugh, my dearest.” you said softly, your voice sincere. “Thank you, Satoru.”

"I made these for you, my beloved." he whispered, pulling out one of the carefully folded parchment from your grasp and unfolded it. "Listen to me, alright?"

His slender fingers traced the delicate paper before he began to read softly, his voice like a gentle breeze:

"Beneath the cherry bloom, I wait  

for you, a light that never fades.  

In silence, your name takes root in my soul—  

a promise written long before time."

His tender words wove into your heart, each syllable filled with the love he had always held for you, now finally given shape. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat that matched your own excitement. The future felt certain, and the night was perfect. You kept listening to his voice, letting it guide you into the tender slumber of the night.

Satoru leaned closer to you, watching your expression, his bright blue eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and affection. Your orbs gazed at the tender strokes of his writing.

His calligraphy had always been so beautiful, but to form such words in order to capture not just the feelings he had for you, it was even more beautiful. And to have him read it with such affection, such love — for you and only you…..what could be more beautiful? What could be more perfect, more delightful?

But then, the ground beneath you shifted, a low rumble reverberating through the tatami mats. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible, but within seconds, the shaking intensified. It was subtle at first, a low rumble that made the lanterns flicker.

Satoru paused, his brow furrowing. Before you could ask, the ground shook violently, and the delicate house groaned under the pressure. Screams erupted from other rooms, echoing through the halls as the tremor grew stronger.

"Satoru?" you whispered, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, not from love, but from fear.

He was already moving, his hand gripping yours tightly. “Stay with me, my beloved.” he commanded, his voice steady, though his eyes flashed with a seriousness you had never seen before. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The room shuddered violently as the earthquake hit full force, and you could hear the distant crashing of objects falling in other parts of the house. Screams erupted outside even louder—voices of your family, the servants, all caught in the chaos of the sudden disaster. And then all the sudden, it was eerily quiet. And that made your heart drop to your stomach 

For a moment, you thought that it would finally be over. But then, the earth beneath you trembled once more. You squealed as Satoru let his body encompass your own with the enveloping of his whole body on yours as the world crashed against you both. The walls were swaying left and right, the roof tiles were shattering one after another. It was chaos.

"Hold on to me. Don’t lift your eyes." he said, his voice calm but firm, even as the world quaked around you. “I’ll protect you.”

You clung to him, your heart pounding in fear as the floor shifted beneath your feet. His grip was unyielding, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, shielding you from falling debris as the shaking intensified.

“I’ve got you, my beloved.” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “D–don’t worry.”

You feared when he stuttered, that he had gotten hurt. But he did not falter. His fingers gently stroked your back, trying to calm your trembling as the earthquake raged on. You could hear the distant crashing of porcelain and wood, your ears ringing from the harsh sounds of the destruction. But in his arms, you felt an odd sense of safety amidst the destruction. Because it was your Satoru holding you, protecting you. Because you’re together. 

As the tremors finally subsided, Satoru’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go. His breath was shaky, and when you looked up at him, you saw a rare flicker of fear in his usually carefree eyes. He swallowed hard before giving you a small, reassuring smile. You were still stunned, your head shaking as you tried to make sense of the world.

"Seems like the earth itself wanted to remind us of its power." he joked softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. He was just as afraid, perhaps even pained by some injury he would never show you. “We’re….we’re alright, my beloved. Don’t worry.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still clutching his robes as you pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The night was no longer perfect, but in that moment, with Satoru holding you close, it felt like nothing could tear the two of you apart—not even the earth itself.

The earth, which had momentarily stilled, seemed to shift again beneath you, this time more violently.More catastrophic, more angry and volatile. You screamed as you held tightly to him, his body wrapping itself against you once more. The walls of your room groaned, beams creaking as the tremors returned with a vengeance, fiercer than before. The floor shook so hard you could barely keep your balance, even in Satoru's arms.

He pulled you even tighter against him, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”

You could feel his muscles tensing beneath his robes, his usually easy going demeanor replaced by something more protective, almost desperate as his entire body forced itself to become a shield against anything against you. What remained standing of your ancestral home rattled more easily around you, dust falling from the ceiling in thick clouds. Outside, the screams grew louder, more frantic as the destruction worsened. Perhaps, it wasn’t even your family any longer. Perhaps it was the town, perhaps it was a neighboring village. You do not know anymore. And that’s what frightened you even more.

You could hear the unmistakable crash of something heavy—perhaps a roof beam—collapsing nearby. Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. The wide, elaborate shoji doors rattled on their frames before they were blown open by the force of the quake. Your own room felt like it was being torn apart piece by piece. One of the wooden beams above groaned under the strain and, without warning, splintered and fell, hurtling toward the two of you.

Your beloved Gojo Satoru reacted in an instant, pushing you down and covering you with his body just as the beam crashed into the floor where you’d been trying to stand. The air was thick with dust, and the scent of earth and shattered wood filled your lungs, choking you. You shook as your eyes slowly opened to see your fiance pinning you down with his body shielding you.

“Satoru!” you gasped, your hands gripping the front of his robe, desperate to make sure he was unharmed.

“I’m fine, my beloved.” he muttered, though you could hear the strain in his voice. His arm was still braced above you, shielding you from any further debris. His other hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into the crook of his neck. “We need to move. The house isn’t going to hold.”

You nodded against him, heart pounding in terror. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. The childhood home that had always felt so safe, so untouchable, was crumbling around you, and the only solid thing left was Satoru. He was all you had, you think. Everything…Everything was gone. Your body was shaking. 

He pulled you to your feet, guiding you toward the door, but just as you reached it, another powerful tremor sent the ground pitching beneath you. You fell forward, and Satoru caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as the floor buckled and cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the splintering wood beneath your sandals, the whole structure of the house breaking apart beneath the relentless force of the earthquake.

“Satoru, we need to get out—” you started, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of another beam collapsing behind you, followed by a sickening crash from outside the room.

“I know, I know.” he said, his voice tight with focus as he scanned the surroundings. "We’ll find a way out. I promise."

He led you toward the door again, but just as you stepped forward, the entire room seemed to tilt. The floor caved in with a horrific crack, and suddenly, you were falling. Satoru’s grip tightened as you both plummeted into darkness, the floorboards and debris collapsing into the space below.

“Are you hurt?” Satoru’s voice cut through the chaos, his hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you close, checking for injuries in the dim light. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the fear he usually kept hidden so well.

“I’m okay,” you gasped, though your body felt battered and sore.

He exhaled in relief, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment, his breath shaky. “We need to get out of here. Stay close to me.”

Even now, with the world collapsing around you, his determination didn’t waver. He pulled you to your feet once more, and together, you began to make your way through the rubble. The house was a maze of fallen beams, shattered walls, and debris, the once-beautiful estate reduced to ruins in a matter of minutes.

The aftershocks still rumbled beneath your feet, making every step treacherous, but Satoru kept you steady, his arm around your waist, guiding you through the wreckage. The air was thick with dust, and the distant screams of those outside continued, filling you with dread for what might await you once you escaped.

As you neared what used to be the outer courtyard, the quake hit again, this time more violent than any before. The very ground seemed to split open beneath you, and with a loud, earth-shattering roar, the outer wall of the estate gave way. You barely had time to scream before the floor cracked beneath your feet, and you fell into darkness once more.

This time, Satoru’s grip on you tightened, and you felt his body pull you against him, sheltering you as the ground gave way entirely. You hit the ground hard, the pain radiating through your body, but before you could react, you felt the warmth of Satoru’s arms around you, shielding you from the worst of it.

“Don’t leave me.” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held you tighter than ever. “I won’t let anything take you from me—not this, not anything.”

In that moment, as the world continued to crumble around you, his words were the only thing that kept you grounded. No matter what happened next, as long as you were with him, there was still hope. You clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, as the tremors finally began to subside, leaving the two of you alone in the wreckage, but together.

You landed hard, the wind knocked out of you as your back hit the ground. The tatami beneath you was torn, and debris scattered everywhere, yet Satoru still held onto you, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, as though his grip alone could shield you from the crumbling world. The force of his embrace had absorbed much of the fall, but the impact still left you breathless. For a moment, everything was a blur—dust and darkness clouded your vision, and the deafening roar of collapsing beams filled the air.

Your body throbbed with pain, and panic surged in your chest, but even through the chaos, the warmth of Satoru’s body against yours anchored you. His presence, solid and unyielding, kept you grounded in the midst of the chaos.

"Satoru..." you gasped, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, his voice steady despite the tremors still shaking the earth beneath you. His breath was ragged, but his grip on you didn’t falter. His white hair, now disheveled and covered in dust, clung to his forehead, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—remained focused on you. “Are you hurt?”

You tried to shake your head, but your mind was still reeling, struggling to catch up with what had just happened. The earthquake raged on, though the initial violence of it had passed. The ground trembled beneath you like a sleeping beast disturbed from its rest.

Satoru shifted, pulling you up as carefully as he could. The house around you was nearly unrecognizable—wooden beams had collapsed, shoji screens were shredded, and parts of the roof had caved in. The once peaceful and warm room where you had shared your engagement was now in ruins, littered with broken objects and torn memories.

The sound of screams echoed from outside, faint but piercing. Servants. Family. It was hard to tell who, but the urgency in their voices cut through the haze of shock that clouded your mind. Your breath caught in your throat, panic gripping you once more.

“My family... my parents.” you muttered, scrambling to get up, but Satoru stopped you, his hand on your shoulder, firm yet gentle. “Satoru—”

"Wait," he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of authority. "We need to get out of here first. It’s not safe."

He tried to keep you calm, his steady hands guiding you through the debris, but you could see the tension in his posture. He was on high alert, his senses sharp as he glanced at every unstable beam, every shifting pile of rubble. He was scanning for danger, but more than that, he was trying to protect you from seeing the worst of it—the destruction, the death.

But as you stumbled through the wreckage of what had once been your home, you couldn’t avoid the horrors that surrounded you. Bodies. Littered through the halls, some crushed beneath fallen beams, others lying still in the open. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world spun around you.

"Satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled away from his protective hold. "Where are they? My parents... my siblings?"

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes darting around, trying to keep you moving forward, away from the bodies, away from the worst of it. But you knew. The silence was louder than any scream. You could feel tears fall from your face and that broke his heart to see.

"Satoru!" you cried, your voice breaking as your legs buckled beneath you. "Where are they?"

He knelt beside you, his hands cupping your face as he gently forced you to look at him. His bright blue eyes were filled with an overwhelming sadness, but he tried to hide it, to be strong for you. He had to be strong. He had to. He can’t be weak, not right now.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to go. We need to find shelter. I’ll take you to my family home. They’ll know what to do.”

You nodded, though the words didn’t fully sink in. Your body was moving on autopilot now, your mind numb to the world as Satoru pulled you back to your feet. With every step, the destruction around you became more apparent, more real. The walls were crumbling, the air thick with dust and smoke, and the scent of burning wood filled your nostrils.

Together, you navigated the ruins of your estate, stepping over debris and through the remains of lives that had been lost in the quake. GojoSatoru kept a firm grip on your hand, leading you with a determination that seemed almost impossible given the circumstances.

But even he couldn’t hide the way his shoulders tensed, the way his jaw clenched when another body appeared in your path, forcing him to shield you from the sight.

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IT WAS A CHALLENGE, TO GO AND LEAVE THE DESTRUCTION BEHIND. The sky deepened into a somber shade of dusk as you and Satoru finally reached the estate’s edge. The once proud gates, symbols of security and honor, now stood twisted and mangled, crumpled by the sheer force of nature’s wrath.

Beyond the gates, the town stretched out in a nightmare of ruin—buildings reduced to heaps of rubble, streets fractured and littered with debris, and the air thick with the lingering scent of smoke and dust. The cries of the wounded and the wails of those searching for lost loved ones echoed through the broken streets, a chorus of despair that filled the silence left in the wake of destruction.

“Keep your head high,” Satoru urged, his voice low but firm as he tightened his grip on your hand. “Don’t look. Just… don’t.”

But it was impossible not to look. How could you not see the devastation, shared by all? Every corner of the town had been touched by this catastrophe, and every person who remained alive carried the weight of loss. It was a destruction understood by all, but none more deeply than you at that moment.

The memory of your home—once filled with laughter, warmth, and the presence of family—now lay in ruins. Your parents, your siblings… their fates were unknown, swallowed by the chaos. You hadn’t seen them, and the hope of finding them alive was growing fainter with every passing moment. Satoru’s words rang hollow in your ears, even as you clung to his hand for strength.

He guided you through the crumbling streets with a fierce determination, always positioning himself between you and the worst of the wreckage. The buildings, once grand and vibrant, had become tombs of stone and wood, each step revealing more of the town’s shattered soul. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some half-buried in rubble, others left untouched by the debris but claimed by the quake nonetheless. It was too much, too overwhelming.

Every time you stumbled, your legs trembling with fatigue and grief, Satoru was there, catching you before you could fall. His presence was like an anchor, keeping you steady amid the storm of devastation that swirled around you. His hand never left yours, his touch a silent promise that you weren’t alone in this. You didn’t have to face it all by yourself.

The survivors—those who had managed to escape the collapse of buildings or who had emerged from the wreckage—followed behind you, a somber procession of hollow eyes and ashen faces. Their steps were slow, heavy with the weight of shock. No words passed between them, no cries for help—only silence and the occasional sob as they moved like ghosts through the streets, trying to find some semblance of safety, of life, in this broken world.

Your heart ached for them, for their pain, but your own grief consumed you. The memory of your family’s voices, the warmth of your home, felt so distant now, like a dream you had just woken from. And yet, with each step you took beside Satoru, you realized that this nightmare was real, and there was no waking from it.

The earth beneath your feet still trembled occasionally, aftershocks reminding you that the worst might not yet be over. Each tremor sent a fresh wave of fear through your body, your grip tightening around Satoru’s hand. He responded in kind, his hand strong and reassuring, though you could sense the turmoil roiling beneath his calm exterior. His family, too, was somewhere in this mess. Their fate hung in the balance just as much as yours.

As you made your way through the gates, leaving behind the wreckage of your estate, you couldn’t help but glance back one final time. The place where you had grown up, where you had shared laughter, joy, and the news of your engagement just hours ago, was now unrecognizable. In the span of mere moments, everything you had known had been reduced to rubble, leaving behind only echoes of the life you had once cherished.

“Satoru…” your voice cracked as you spoke his name, the words barely audible over the distant cries. He stopped, turning to look at you, his eyes softening with concern.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall unnoticed. “I know it’s hard. But we’ll make it through this. We have to.”

His resolve was unshakable, but you could see the grief hidden behind his determination. He was trying to be strong, not just for himself, but for you. His family’s estate lay ahead, yet you both feared what you would find when you arrived.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the land in shadow, you continued onward, the fire of Satoru’s presence the only thing keeping you from sinking into despair. The path was treacherous, littered with fallen beams and shattered stone, but Satoru led the way with careful, deliberate steps. He kept you close, his arm around your waist now, guiding you over the broken streets as you navigated what felt like the remains of the world.

Every glance revealed more heartache—broken homes, toppled lanterns, and the pale, lifeless faces of those who hadn’t made it. But Satoru never let you linger, gently urging you forward each time your gaze began to drift toward the horror around you.

Finally, you reached his family’s estate. Or what remained of it. The grand structure that had once stood proud and formidable was now a heap of collapsed roofs and shattered walls. The once beautiful garden, where you had shared many moments of happiness, was now a twisted, chaotic mess of uprooted trees and scorched earth.

Satoru stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning the destruction with a silent, composed fury. The pain was etched into his expression, though he quickly masked it as he turned to you, his voice low but firm.

"We’ll make it through tonight," he said. "We have to survive, no matter what."

In that moment, even as the world crumbled around you, there was no fear in his eyes—only determination. For now, all you could do was follow him. Follow him through the darkness, trusting that somewhere, beyond the destruction, hope still lingered. 

As you finally reached the outskirts of the Gojo estate, the enormity of the destruction hit you again. The town below had not been spared either. Smoke rose in the distance, and the ground was littered with rubble, buildings half-collapsed, and people wandering aimlessly, searching for loved ones.

Satoru didn’t hesitate. He pulled you forward, his grip never loosening as he led you through the streets toward his family’s home. But when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was even more devastating.

His family estate, much like your own, had been reduced to little more than a broken shell. The grand gates had collapsed, and the once beautiful gardens were torn apart, now little more than mounds of earth and stone. The house itself had fared no better, with parts of the roof caved in and walls shattered.

Satoru’s face paled as he took it all in, his hand tightening around yours in a desperate attempt to remain calm. But you could see it in his eyes—the grief, the disbelief. This was his home. His family. And now, it is gone.

For a long moment, he stood still, his gaze fixed on the destruction before him. His breathing was shallow, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. But then, with a sharp breath, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

As you both began your journey toward the Gojo family estate, the weight of the day settled heavily on your shoulders. But Satoru’s hand never let go of yours, a silent promise that even in the face of unimaginable loss, you would survive this—together.

When you and Satoru finally reached the outskirts of his family estate, the sinking feeling in your chest returned with full force. What should have been a place of refuge, a sanctuary from the horrors you had just fled, was nothing but devastation. The Gojo estate, once majestic and proud, had fallen to the same fate as your home.

The gates were twisted and mangled, barely hanging from their hinges, and the walls that had once stood tall now lay in heaps of rubble. Smoke rose from what remained of the manor, a bitter scent of burning wood and stone hanging in the air. The destruction was so complete, so absolute, that it felt like the very earth had swallowed everything whole. The silence was deafening.

Gojo Satoru froze at the sight, his grip on your hand tightening until it almost hurt. You looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his usual brightness dulled to a vacant stare. His family, his home....everything he had known, everything he had grown up with. All was gone. Nothing was left but the earth where it all once stood.

You tried to say something, to offer words of comfort, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. More tears could only pour out of your eyes from then on. All you could do was squeeze his hand, hoping he would feel your silent support. He didn't need to hear your words right now; he just needed to know you were there.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his blue eyes scanning the destruction as if trying to comprehend it, trying to find any sign of life among the wreckage. But there was nothing. Just like at your estate, the earthquake had consumed everything.

Finally, Satoru exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. But even in his grief, he didn’t break. He couldn’t—not with you depending on him. He glanced down at you, his eyes softening with a kind of sadness you had never seen in him before. 

Satoru stopped for a moment, turning to you with a look of determination in his eyes. “We’ll make it through this,” he promised, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to hide. “We’ll get some place safe here, and I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. You hear me?”

You nodded, though the world felt unsteady beneath you. The future that once seemed so bright, the engagement that had filled your heart with hope, now felt overshadowed by the tragedy that had befallen your lives. Still, with Satoru’s hand wrapped securely around yours, you knew one thing for certain—no matter what came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

“We need to stay warm tonight.” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not safe to wander around in the dark. We’ll make a fire here, and then tomorrow, we’ll figure out what to do.”

He led you to a relatively clear patch of ground, away from the worst of the rubble. The sky was darkening, and the air had grown cold, a biting wind cutting through your torn clothes. Satoru quickly set to work, gathering what dry wood he could find, his movements steady and focused despite the grief that must have been tearing him apart inside.

You watched him in silence, too exhausted to help, too numb from everything that had happened. When the fire finally sparked to life, its warmth was a welcome reprieve from the cold that had settled deep into your bones. You sat beside him, huddled close to the flickering flames, the only source of light in the endless night.

Your Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He simply stared into the fire, his expression distant, lost in thoughts you couldn’t fathom. His hands, usually so relaxed and playful, were tense, gripping his knees as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.

But then he turned to you, his gaze softening when he saw the exhaustion written on your face. Without a word, he pulled his outer robe from his shoulders and wrapped it around you, tucking it gently against your chin. He tried to do it, smiling like nothing happened. As though to comfort you even in all this suffering. And yet, you could see it all in his eyes. He was exhausted, he was in pain. And he didn’t know what to do.

“Sleep, my beloved.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep watch.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that he needed rest just as much as you did, but your body betrayed you. The exhaustion, the grief, the sheer weight of everything you had been through—it was too much. You nodded weakly, laying your head against his shoulder as you curled into the warmth of the robe.

Satoru shifted slightly, easing you into a more comfortable position so you could lie down near the fire. His hand rested on your arm, a protective gesture that reminded you of his earlier promise. Even as the world fell apart around you, Satoru Gojo was still there, watching over you.

As you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, Satoru leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. His lips lingered there for a moment, as if he were afraid to pull away, afraid that something might take you from him if he let go.

“I’ll keep you safe, my beloved.” he whispered against your hair, his voice trembling with the weight of his vow. “No matter what happens. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but his resolve was unshakable. He couldn’t save everything—his home, his family—but he would save you. That much, he was certain of.

As you slept, Gojo Satoru remained awake, his eyes scanning the horizon, alert for any sign of danger. The devastation around him was complete, but his focus never wavered from you. You were his world now, the one thing he had left in the midst of the ruin.

The night stretched on, cold and unforgiving, but Satoru didn’t move from his spot by your side. Even as the grief gnawed at him, even as the weight of everything he had lost threatened to crush him, he stayed strong. For you. Because no matter what came next, no matter how uncertain the future had become, Gojo Satoru had made a promise—and he would keep it.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THE YEAR 2018 WAS AN INTERESTING YEAR FOR DISCOVERIES. You remember reading about it in the newspaper on your way to university—the discovery of two lovers found in an eternal embrace, huddled together in a shoreline cave, their bodies preserved for three hundred years by the elements that had claimed their lives. 

The volcanic eruption, the earthquake, and the tsunami that had ravaged Japan centuries ago were some of the worst disasters the country had ever known, obliterating entire villages and swallowing countless lives in an instant. And yet, even in the face of such unimaginable destruction, these two had remained together, their bond undisturbed by the passage of time.

Standing quietly in front of the memorial, you felt the weight of their story settle around you. The air was still and somber, carrying with it the distant hum of waves crashing along the shore. The stone monument before you was simple yet profound—a silent marker of the love these two souls had shared, a love that had endured in the most unimaginable of circumstances. Their bodies had been found in the ruins of a household long buried by the mud and debris, a household much like the ones surrounding this coastline, now reduced to scattered memories.

You had followed the story from the beginning—the day the archaeologists uncovered them from the earth, the painstaking care they took in revealing the remains. The headlines had drawn attention, not because of the tragedy alone, but because of the story those two bodies told.

There were no names. No clues as to who they had been, what their lives had looked like before the disaster struck, or even how they had ended up in each other’s arms when the end came. But it didn’t matter. Their identities weren’t needed to understand the significance of what had been found. What mattered was that they had faced their final moments without fear. They had faced the end together, with love.

It was that thought—the resilience of love in the face of overwhelming disaster—that had touched you most deeply. In a world where so much is fragile and fleeting, the strength of their connection had remained, even after centuries had passed. It was as if their love had transcended the destruction, as if they had chosen to defy the disaster by holding on to one another in their last breath.

You stepped forward, placing your hands together in silent prayer. You wished them peace, a kind of peace that transcended the tragedy of their death, that honored the love they had shared.

You prayed that their spirits had found rest, and that wherever they were now, they were still together, watching over the place where they had once stood. The offering you placed at the memorial was simple, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, symbolizing purity and remembrance.

"I pray that you'll always be together, the two of you." you murmured, your voice soft, barely louder than the breeze that rustled through the trees around the monument. "Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace, and that your love is still as strong as it was in those last moments."

You stayed there for a while, the silence of the memorial surrounding you, offering its quiet comfort. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene, a contrast to the deep sense of loss the place carried. But you didn’t feel sadness. Instead, there was something almost beautiful about it—knowing that even in the face of disaster, these two had been together, and their love had transcended time. As you prepared to leave, footsteps approached from behind. You turned slightly, curious to see who else had come to visit this quiet, forgotten place.

A man with striking white hair and bright blue eyes under the rim of his glasses stood at the edge of the memorial, his head bowed in silent prayer. He was tall, his presence commanding even though he moved with a quiet grace. His features were sharp, but softened by a kind of deep, unspoken sorrow. He knelt down beside the monument, laying a single white flower on the stone, his fingers brushing the surface with reverence.

You watched him for a moment, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though you couldn’t quite place it. The way he stood there—tall and composed, with an air of quiet reverence that just seemed to draw you in.

There was something almost ethereal about him, as if he was intrinsically linked to the story of the lovers you had come to honor. The connection felt deeper than mere coincidence, as though his presence was a significant part of the narrative that had touched you so profoundly.

His white hair glowed softly in the fading light, and his posture was relaxed yet dignified, embodying a calmness that contrasted sharply with the turmoil you had felt as you reflected on the lovers’ fate.

His eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene, as if he was offering a deeply personal tribute to the souls who had been found together in their final moments. The sense of connection was so strong that you could almost feel it emanating from him, a silent bridge spanning the centuries between his presence and the lovers' tragic end.

You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his moment of solitude. Yet, there was something compelling about the situation—an unspoken invitation to acknowledge the shared significance of this place and the story that bound them all together. Your curiosity and empathy drove you to speak, despite the quietude that hung between you.

“Excuse me.” you began softly, breaking the stillness of the memorial. Your voice was gentle, barely a whisper against the backdrop of the crashing waves. “I couldn’t help but notice… There's something about you that feels so familiar, so connected to this place. I… I’ve been deeply moved by the story of the lovers found here, and I can’t shake the feeling that you share a connection with them.”

The man turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and understanding. He seemed to consider your words for a moment, his expression thoughtful and measured. There was a softness in his gaze, as if he had been waiting for this moment, this conversation, even if he didn’t quite know why.

“Oh.” Gojo Satoru whispered back, his cheeks tinged with a flush of surprise, as if your words had caught him off guard. He seemed momentarily at a loss, his usual confidence replaced with a bashful vulnerability. “Yeah, I… I saw the news, and I thought, I just had to come. It felt… it just felt right, you know? To come here and see them off, to wish them well.”

There was a sincerity in his voice, a raw honesty that struck a chord. You could see that this wasn’t just a casual visit for him; it was something deeply personal, a moment of reflection and respect that went beyond mere curiosity.

“I see…” you mumbled, your gaze softening as you looked at him. A smile slowly spread across your face, touched by his heartfelt gesture. “That’s kind of you to do.”

Gojo Satoru shook his head slightly, a rueful smile on his lips. “Ah, not… not really,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “If anything, I think you were more kind. You brought them white chrysanthemums and everything. You probably had more of a proper prayer for them than I did.”

You waved off his comment with a small laugh, the sound light and airy in the quiet of the memorial. “Oh, not at all. I think… I think your intention was purer than mine. You came here just on a feeling, an instinct that something was right about being here. I was… I was interested historically before I was here emotionally, you know?”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. “I guess we both had our reasons,” he said softly. “But in the end, it’s the connection that matters. Whether we came here out of personal feelings or historical interest, it’s our respect and acknowledgement that count.”

You nodded, feeling a shared sense of purpose in your conversation. There was something profoundly meaningful about how your paths had crossed at this place, driven by a mutual respect for the story of the lovers and a desire to honor their memory. The distinction between your reasons for being here seemed to dissolve in the face of a greater truth—that both of you were here because of a deep-seated respect and a wish to pay tribute to the enduring power of love.

“So……” Gojo continued, a slight smile returning to his lips, ���I’m glad we met here. It feels like the right place for this kind of encounter, don’t you think?”

You agreed, feeling a warmth in his words. “Yes, it does. It’s like the universe brought us together in this moment to remind us of something important.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, something like that. It’s nice to know that even after so much time, and despite all the changes and challenges we face, there are still moments that can bring people together in such a profound way.”

You stood together in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared understanding settling around you. The memorial continued to stand as homage to the lovers’ eternal bond, and in that quiet, sacred space, you felt a connection that transcended all the limits given by the bountiful universe.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.”

The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile. 

“They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

There was something in his tone, a weight to his words, that made you wonder if he was speaking from experience. You gave him a respectful nod, choosing not to pry into the emotions that seemed to flicker beneath his calm exterior.

The two of you stood there in silence for a while longer, both paying your respects to the nameless lovers who had defied death with their love. The sun continued to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the memorial. Finally, the man rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes before turning to you.

“Take care, stranger.” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the sorrow that had lingered moments before. Then, with one last look at the monument, he began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light like a beacon.

As you watched him go, something tugged at your heart. You didn’t know who he was, but in that moment, you felt as though you had shared something important with him—an unspoken understanding of love and loss, of holding on to someone even when the world falls apart around you. 

Somehow, there was something stirring within you—a feeling that you couldn’t let him just walk away, not without knowing more. There was something about him, an invisible thread connecting you, as if fate had brought you both to this quiet place for a reason.

"Wait! Hey, mister!" you called out softly, taking a few steps toward him. The man paused, turning back to face you, his expression curious but calm.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, with a gentle smile, you extended your hand. "I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself. My name is……"

He looked at you for a moment, as if weighing whether to reciprocate. Then, with a small, almost teasing smile, he took your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, and comforting in a way that felt strangely familiar.

"I'm Gojo Satoru." he said, his voice smooth, yet laced with something deeper, as if his name carried a history he didn’t fully reveal.

The name hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of recognition. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come. You smiled politely, though something about the way he said it, the way his gaze softened as he looked at you, made you feel like there was more to his introduction than simple formality.

"It's nice to meet you, Satoru." you replied, feeling a strange sense of ease as you spoke his name. There was something about the way it rolled off your tongue, as if you'd said it a thousand times before.

He tilted his head slightly, his sharp, crystal-blue eyes studying you with an intensity that was both disarming and oddly reassuring. It was as if he could see beneath the surface, understanding more than what was immediately apparent. Yet, instead of feeling exposed, you felt a sense of comfort, a silent acknowledgment that he grasped the depths of your emotions and thoughts.

With a gentle, almost shy smile, Gojo Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it toward you. “Put your number in,” he said, his voice tender and inviting. “I think… I think you know more about this story than I do. I’d like to know more, if you’re willing to share.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the request, but the sincerity in his voice and the warmth of his smile compelled you to act. With a nod, you took his phone from him and began to enter your contact information, a small flutter of excitement rising in your chest. There was something intriguing about the prospect of continuing this conversation, of sharing more about the story that had brought you both here.

When you handed his phone back to him, a playful grin appeared on your face. “It’s your turn,” you said, taking out your own phone and extending it toward him.

Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement as he looked at your phone. “Well, alright.” he said, taking it with a mock sigh of resignation. “If you insist.”

As he entered his number into your phone, the atmosphere between you shifted from one of solemn reflection to one of friendly connection. The small act of exchanging numbers felt like a bridge, linking your shared experience at the memorial with the potential for future conversations and deeper understanding. Maybe, just maybe — you’ll understand life the way these two in front of you did. Just maybe.

When he handed your phone back to you, he looked at you with a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing this moment with me. It’s been… meaningful. I’m glad we crossed paths today.”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that came from more than just the shared experience. “I’m glad too. It’s not every day you meet someone who understands the significance of something like this so deeply.”

Finally, Satoru spoke again, his tone lightening slightly. "Well, I should be going. The train is leaving soon. But... It was nice meeting you." He paused, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe we’ll see each other again."

You smiled, feeling the same unspoken connection. "I’d like that."

With one last look at the memorial, Satoru turned and began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light of the day. You watched him go, a strange sense of calm settling over you.

As you stood there, the weight of the lovers' story still fresh in your heart, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you would see Gojo Satoru. Something told you that your paths would cross again, in ways you couldn’t yet predict.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the memorial, you whispered one final prayer—not just for the nameless lovers, but for yourself, and perhaps for Satoru too.

"May we all find each other, in every lifetime."

[hanjsquokka]

bed chem.

han jisung × fem!reader — love at first sight, strangers to lovers, non idol! au, based on sabrina carpenter's song bed chem, fluff/smut

summary — you couldn't take your eyes off him since you saw him. even though you talked for mere seconds, you were undeniably in love. good thing he felt the same too.

warnings — alcohol consumption, swearing, explicit sexual content (warnings under the cut), lots and lots of kissing, just a little bit of a situationship

word count — 4.4K

author's note — extremely late birthday post for my favorite man 🩷 bed chem is my favorite song on sabrina's album and jisung just so happened to wear a white jacket for the dicon magazine photos 😻☝️ what a perfect coincidence. this was kinda rushed, but i hope you like it <33

please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs, they really make my day 🫶🏼

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

smut warning — mastrubation (f rec), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple rounds (2), overstimulation

You couldn't stop staring at him; you probably looked like a creep, but you could care less. The party was in full swing around you, all of the attendees decked up in black and white formal wear, in accordance with the theme of the party your company was holding. It was some anniversary event; you recalled seeing number balloons strung up all over the place along with normal ones. You'd, at first, reluctantly attended, your mishap with your original outfit causing you to borrow one from a friend at the last minute and your favorite pearl necklace snapping when you were putting it on—both seemed like an omen for you to not go.

But boy were you glad you did, or else you would've never met him.

“Han Jisung,” your coworker, Changbin, told you. “He was working at an overseas branch and was recently transferred here.”

Your brain zoned out after that, vision tunneling at the sight of the man in the white jacket, his hair slightly long and styled back with a middle part, although a few strands came loose and hung delicately on the sides of his face. When the light hit just right, you could see a sheen on his lips, making your heart thump in your chest even more. 

“God, just go talk to him. You're practically eye-fucking him in front of my champagne,” Hyunjin, another one of your coworkers, grumbled, his face scrunched up in disgust as he sipped from his glass. Your own glass was forgotten in your hand and most likely would've been spiked if you were at a club from the way it'd been staying in the same spot while you shamelessly gazed at the beautiful man.

“I would, if I had the guts to do it,” you snapped back, your free hand scrunching up the material of your sheer, black dress that you wore over a shorter, tighter one. Your friend told you that you looked hot but, in the presence of so many other elegantly dressed women and men, you felt underdressed.

Your horrible luck struck once again when you looked back at Han Jisung and your eyes met his. Your face flamed red at being caught by him, turning away so your back was facing his direction, and you chugged your champagne.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin laughed at your embarrassment, your scowl only intensifying their amusement. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, that you'd miraculously get a phone call from someone, and you'd have to leave because you would not be able to live this down if he questioned you. 

A tap on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin, causing you to turn around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, and you were met with a blonde man with freckles dotting his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep and rich.

“Hi?” You greeted, your tone confused, wondering who this man was.

“Sorry, I'm Felix,” he offered a hand to shake, which you did while introducing yourself, still feeling as clueless as ever. “Long story short, if you're okay with it... I would like to introduce you to my friend. He's a bit shy.” Your brows furrowed for a moment before you nodded. Anything to save you from your slip-up. “Great.” He gave you a big smile before looking back, seemingly for his shy friend, and called him over.

In a ridiculous twist of fate, the person he called over was none other than the man you were caught staring at.

You wished you could disappear. 

“Okay, so, Ji, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jisung.” Felix clapped his hands together. “Now stop being an idiot and speak to her,” he added quietly, causing Jisung to fumble with his words and hit the blonde's shoulder, the latter only laughing in response. 

Your heart sped up in your chest when Jisung's gaze met yours for the third time that night, beating so loudly you were sure someone could hear it. Felix gave his friend one more knowing look before he linked arms with Hyunjin and Changbin, making you question if the three of them were close, and walked away to talk to other people.

Your throat felt parched, and you had no idea what to say. Another sip for your fresh glass of champagne while the tension between the two of you increased with every second.

“Right, um, I'm sorry for staring at you,” he finally said once it had gotten almost too awkward, in an accent you couldn't put your finger on, letting out a nervous chuckle, and looked at you with those big, brown eyes, almost making your knees buckle.

“I apologize as well,” you said, your stomach fluttering as his smile widened. “I wasn't trying to be creepy, you just...”

“Caught your eye?” He asked before adding, “Because you definitely did.” You blushed, your body feeling hot and bothered at his sudden compliment. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a ringtone interrupted him, and he muttered a sorry underneath his breath before pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Shit, this is important.”

You smiled. “No, it's alright.” You watched him give you a sort of upside-down one in return before walking away to take his call in a quieter place.

You didn't see him for the rest of the night, much to your disappointment. It was like he vanished into thin air. You couldn't sleep, even after hours of laying in bed after going home (the sun would come up before you would sleep, you thought), your mind replaying the evening again and again in your head like a broken record. For the first time in a while, you felt something so strong for someone you had spoken to for a few moments.

You found yourself scrolling through your social media feed, pictures of the party occupying most of it. You came across a picture in one of Hyunjin's posts with Felix, and a dumb idea struck—Felix was Jisung's friend, right? If you were lucky, which was very unlikely, Felix would have a public profile... which he did! And then going through his following, you should be able to find...

“Aha!” You exclaimed as you landed on Jisung's profile.

The next few hours were spent scrolling through his posts—totally not creepy. Your delusions were increasing by the minute as you got a look into his life and the kind of person he was. He seemed to have stayed in Malaysia before coming to your town; he had a white-furred dog, and he uploaded videos of him playing the guitar and singing every now and then—he could not get any more perfect. The more you saw, the more it cemented in your brain that he was the one. He was perfect for you.

The only problem you had was how you would approach him without looking like a complete stalker. You finally fell asleep like that, drifting off into a deep slumber, your dreams filled with the face of the man you encountered and may never see again.

“No way, no way, no way!” You stared, mouth agape, at your phone screen, your TV show forgotten in the background. You'd woken up late the next day, skipping directly to lunch after freshening up and seating yourself on your couch with a plate of food in your hands. After you finished eating, you decided to check your notifications, swiping on the unnecessary advertisements and spam emails until you saw...

[Unknown, 11:37am]: Hey Y/n! It's Jisung, from the party yesterday. I got your number from Felix. Is that weird? I'm sorry if it's weird 😭 I really like you, and I feel bad our conversation was cut short yesterday. I was wondering if you'd like to hang out sometime. I'd love to get to know you better. If not, that's totally okay; just pretend I never sent this.

You read the message a few hundred times, saving his contact with a heart beside his name, before you mustered enough sanity to reply back to him.

[You, 3:09pm]: Hi Jisung! I'd love to hang out sometime 🩷

The reply was almost instantaneous, another wonderful quality. 

[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: Great! I heard this café is good around here. 

[Jisung 💘, 3:10pm]: <sent a location>

[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: If you're free, would you like to meet up there tomorrow? Unless you're not, that's okay; maybe I'm being too forward 😭

[You, 3:11pm]: No, not at all! I was thinking of tomorrow too. Sounds great. I'll meet you at around four?

[Jisung 💘, 3:11pm]: Four sounds perfect. See you then!

You had no idea how you managed to sleep that night, excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of going on a date with Jisung. The next day, you impatiently waited for the clock to strike four. When it finally was time, you got dressed, redid your hair until it was to your liking, and hailed a cab to the meeting spot.

You couldn't believe you were meeting Jisung in a few minutes. Maybe all the bad luck yesterday was worth it. Hell, you'd endure misfortune forever if it meant the two of you could hit off and your relationship would progress from the awkward talking stage you were in. Your thoughts trailed from cute fluffy dates that you and Jisung could have if you started dating to more not PG-13 ideas the more you thought about him. It was wrong; you knew that. You hardly knew him, and yet you were acting like a horny teenager just because you thought he gave you heart eyes—in your defense, it had been a while since you were with someone, and your heart just couldn't help but wander down the gutter because this guy... this guy seemed like he liked you just as much as you did. He put in the effort of talking to you and everything—that had to count for something, right?

Your anxiousness made you arrive outside the café ten minutes beforehand, exiting the Uber with a cluster of nerves in your stomach. You opted for a warmer outfit, seeing that autumn had begun and the air had turned slightly crisp in the evenings. A woolen sweater tucked into your jeans, it was casual enough for a café date (was this a date?). 

After what seemed like hours (five minutes), you saw Jisung exit a car and come up to you in a light jog. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” You swallowed nervously, admiring his outfit choice that looked good on him. You shook your head in response to his question, a smile forming on his face as he stopped right in front of you. “My neighbor's cat snuck into my apartment, and it was this whole thing,” he said, waving his hands in the air while shaking his head in disbelief. “Anyways,” he went to the door of the café and opened it, “after you.”

You blushed and walked inside, thanking him for holding the door for you. The two of you sat at a table after ordering your drinks and settled into a less awkward silence than the previous day.

“Do you like coming here often?” You asked, looking around the place. You'd never seen this café before, probably because it was out of the way in your commute route from your apartment to your office. 

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, this place makes some seriously good coffee. My apartment is a few blocks away, so I usually drop by for a to-go cup in the morning before work.”

“Right, I never got to ask, which department do you work in?”

“Marketing. I worked in the Malaysia branch until a few weeks ago.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Explains why I haven't seen you at the office before. I'm in the IT department.” You looked at the table. “I would've remembered if I saw someone like you,” you added, smiling as you saw the tips of his ears turn red.

“You're cheeky, aren't you?” He chuckled. 

A waiter brought your drinks—a pumpkin spice latte for you, a fall special that you adored, and an iced Americano for him. You took a few sips of your latte, your insides warming up from the hot coffee.

“So, Y/n, what do you like to do outside of work?” Jisung asked, brushing his bangs to the side to see better. His hair was much more unruly than it had been at the party; it added a boyish charm to his persona. 

“Not much, truthfully,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh. “I go to a pottery class on the weekends, but I'm not that good at it... Most of my masterpieces are deformed pots and mugs.”

Jisung laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did. “You'll get better at it! I sucked at playing the guitar when I first started, and now I'm not bragging, but I do play pretty well.”

“Really?” Liar, you knew he played well. You spent a good amount of time watching the guitar covers he posted on his account before you slept. “You'll have to show me sometime.”

“Even better, I'll teach you.”

Time passed by quickly, the two of you talking about whatever you could think of until you had to part ways. Despite the fact that there wasn't any solid confirmation that you're dating, you could tell he really liked you, which made your heart fuzzy. 

For the next few weeks, you both called and texted each other, taking a few detours at work just to see the other, only to see that they had done the same as well, making you laugh. Jisung was the only thing on your mind. His face, his deep voice, the way his face would flush whenever you made a teasing comment on the smirk that would tug at his lips whenever he did to you. You were dancing around each other on the topic of commitment, neither of you making the move to ask the other if you'd like to be exclusive.

It was frustrating seeing that you went on dates whenever your schedules would allow it—the movies, the park, anything, to be honest. You spent the day beside him and then the night with your hands between your legs, his name rolling off your tongue embarrassingly as you came around your fingers.

It was getting comical how your relationship was at a stalemate for weeks. Even Hyunjin and Changbin were pestering you to make the move so you'd stop rambling about him while you worked.

One day after work, you were met with Jisung waiting outside the office next to his car, still dressed in his work clothes and looking at his phone. Once you called out to him, he looked up, his face lighting up as he approached you.

"Hi, beautiful,” he greeted, taking your hand in his. “How was your day?”

“It was okay... What are you doing here? I thought—”

“I wanted to surprise you, obviously,” he said, tugging at your hand to lead you to his car. He used his free hand to open the driver's side door and brought out a bouquet of red tulips. You weren't an idiot, and you knew he wasn't one either. The color of the flowers... you knew what that meant, and your heart did a little jump in your ribcage. “And to ask you to be my girlfriend because I've been a coward to do so earlier.” He swallowed. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be yours?” He asked, his voice soft and almost nervous, eyes flitting up to meet yours. 

“I'd love to,” you answered, accepting the bouquet with a flushed face and a smile so wide your cheeks burned. “You're such a romantic, Jisung. These are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he flirted, grinning when he saw your reaction. “But seriously, I'm sorry I've been an idiot. I really really really like you, Y/N. Since the moment I saw you. Scratch that, I love you. I know I do.” He squeezed your hand. 

“I love you too.” A million thoughts were exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. Your eyes dipped down to his lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek before speaking. “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you'd never ask,” he muttered, the hand that was holding yours moving to wrap around your waist. Your eyes fluttered close as his face drew closer to yours and his lips finally met your own. The kiss was sweet; you could taste his chapstick, which made your stomach flip. Your arms went over his shoulders, still holding onto the bouquet.

When he pulled away and looked at you with that half-lidded gaze, you swore you would have fainted if he wasn't holding onto you. Another kiss from him took your breath away, this one much deeper and more sensual than the first.

“I won't be able to stop kissing you now that you're my girlfriend.” He chuckled, planting a final kiss on your forehead before pulling away.

“I wouldn't mind that.”

“Really?” He laughed even more. “Good, because you can't stop me. Now, let me drive you home.”

The ride to your apartment was filled with future date plans and spontaneous karaoke once he turned the radio on. You visited each other's houses in the past few months, having a few movie nights, but this time, you wanted—no, needed to take the next step. He parked his car and walked with you up to your flat. When he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Jisung, why don't you stay over?”

He paused in his tracks. “What?”

“We could order takeout... or make dinner, and tomorrow's the weekend...” You bit your lip, waiting for his response.

“Y/n,” he said, almost hesitantly. “You do know—”

“I want it.” You cut him off. “Just... stay over, Jisung, please?”

He sighed. “You know I can't say no when you ask me like that.” He smiled softly and accepted your invitation, walking into your apartment and kicking off his shoes. Both of you knew what was going to happen, and you were more than ready to have him completely. Once you locked the door behind you and put the bouquet in the kitchen, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and pull you close. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Your third kiss was completely different, filled with fervor and desire. He pulled you impossibly close, his hands scrunching up the material of your blouse as he tried to taste as much of you as possible, tongue diving into your mouth. He groaned lowly when your hands tugged at his dark locks, making you smirk against his lips, and you did it again. “Mm… baby… You don't know what you're doing to me,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over yours.

“I want you, Jisung. I need you, please.”

“I can't deny my girlfriend when she asks so nicely, hm?” He pressed one more kiss on your lips. And then another, while you navigated clumsily to your bedroom. “God, I've been wanting to fuck you since I saw you in the dress at the party,” he spoke hotly, gaining your skin once you were in the room, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to give him better access when you felt his teeth graze your skin. “So pretty.”

“Want you to fuck me too, every time you come here...” You said, your voice breathy as he left a mark at the junction of your neck and collarbones.

“Yeah? You've been thinking about me, baby?”

“Every night,“ you admitted, embarrassment bubbling up inside you when you saw the smirk plastered across his face. “It's not my fault!”

“I know, I know, I'm irresistible,” he said with a laugh and kissed your jaw. “I can't deny that I've been thinking about you too.” His warm breath fanning across the side of your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “A lot of R-rated thoughts. Maybe I could show you.”

“I think I'd like that.”

He smiled, kissing you on your lips deeply one last time before his fingers hooked underneath your top. “Can I?” With your nod of consent, he slowly lifted the fabric off of you, and it fell onto the floor. You could see his pupils dilate as he took in your freshly uncovered skin, which made heat pool between your legs. Every touch of his hands across your supple skin and every feathery kiss of his lips made your mind go more and more hazy, even though he hadn't even touched you that much. He tentatively gave your breast a squeeze over your bra, making you inhale sharply. He did it again, rolling his thumb over your nipple. 

You hadn't even noticed his other hand on your back until he unhooked your bra and it fell down. A red tinge formed on your face as Jisung practically drooled at the sight of you half naked, his mouth latching onto your nipples while one of his hands toyed with the other and his left trailing down your body to your ass, squeezing the flesh, making you meal. Your knees buckled as his tongue swirled around your bud, nipping at the delicate flesh. He did the same to the other side, drawing more and more quiet gasps from you.

It wasn't before long; both of you were naked and lying on the bed, him giving open-mouthed kisses sloppily along your skin while his fingers toyed with your entrance, making you moan and arch off the bed. He sliced you open, preparing you for the next step—the one thing you've been wanting for weeks.

“So wet already.”

“All for you.”

“All for me, hm?” He repeated. “I need to fuck you, baby. Been dying to feel you,” he said with a groan, kissing between the valley of your breasts, your heart thundering in your ribcage as he guided you to spread your legs. “Are you ready, love?” You nodded, unable to speak, feeling his heavy cock press against your inner thigh. He aligned himself with your cunt before pushing in slowly, letting your snug walls adjust to him as he sank deeper and deeper, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, until he was fully inside. It was too much and too little all at the same time. A peck on your forehead brought you back, and you signaled for him to start moving.

It was mind-blowing; the sensuality of his thrusts made your breath hitch. Soon, your moans filled the room in symphony with his groans and whimpers as your walls sucked him in more and more, drinking in his soul. His head hung over his shoulders, hair falling over your skin as he kept thrusting into you over and over again, making your toes curl as he repeatedly brushed against that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. 

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted. “So fucking tight, so good for me.” You moaned in response, hands clawing at his back, needing something to ground you to this world as he drove you to greater heights.

“Shit, Jisung—” You could feel your orgasm approaching, the band in your belly coiling tighter and tighter.

“I've got you, baby,” he muttered, closing the gap between the both of you again, swallowing your moans as he moved harder, determined to make you cum around him. “Cum for me.” His words were the last push you needed to tumble off the edge, your body merging into him as you came on his cock. You could feel overstimulation kick in as he kept moving inside you, making you whine and dig your nails into his back.

“I'm not done yet.” And within a second, you were flipped onto your stomach, your ass jutted out, and he sank back into again, a loud moan coming from both of you. His movements were much less coordinated from before, more jerky and hasty as he chased his own high while trying to bring you to yours once more. His fingers found your clitoral area, rubbing harsh circles on the bundle of nerves as he drilled into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed underneath his breath, feeling your walls clench even tighter around you. "Babe—baby, I need you to cum with me, please.” He gasped when you tightened instinctively at his words. “Come on, love.”

The way he could be so sweet and yet so dirty in the way he spoke while he was fucking you from behind, your face pressed into your pillows, muffling the loud moans reverberating in your throat, turned you on even more. You reached your peak once again, from the combined actions of his fingers on your clitoral area and his tip bruising against your spot inside you, clamping down on him as you released, triggering his own orgasm. His hot seed filled you to the brim, and he gave a few last strokes before pulling out his softening dick and letting both of you catch your breath.

After cleaning up, you laid side by side, your breathing still uneven like you ran a marathon. Curled up against his side, you let your body calm down, his arm around you to hold you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, brushing the hair out of your face and looking at you with tired eyes and a lovesick smile.

“I'll take you out on a proper date, and then we'll go back to my place, and I'll fuck you in my bed as many times as you want me to,” he promised quietly. “I'll take you wherever you want to go; just stay by my side, okay?”

“I'll always stay by your side. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” You lifted your head up to kiss his forehead, watching his grin widen, and he squeezed you in his arms. “Yeah, I'm so in love with you,” he said with a giggle. 

Now you could put your mind to rest, knowing you both had really good bed chem as well.

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[privatelife]

do y'all really like hozier THAT much cause i don't get it

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best��semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[harrysfolklore]

ring hard launch - blurb

the content we got today just SCREAMS fiancé!harry for me so i came up with this, enjoy !

gif by @sunkissedlouis <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If there was something that was definitely at the top of your list of favorite activities, was spending time with Harry.

It didn't matter if it was getting groceries, joining him for a bike ride or simply laying on the couch together, every moment that you spent together brought you contentment and joy that you couldn't find anywhere else.

And now that he was your fiancé, it was safe to say that both of you wanted to be glued to each other every single minute.

Harry proposed the morning of New Year's Eve, in the comfort of your home with both of you in your pajamas as you enjoyed homemade breakfast bagels, and it was absolutely perfect.

Ever since, you had been happier than ever, sharing the news with your family and closest friends and enjoying your engagement in private without prying eyes from paparazzi, fans and media.

"We better win tonight," Your train of thought was interrupted by Harry's voice, you were currently heading to the Luton vs Man United game, and even though you couldn't care less about football, your need to be close to him all the time made you say yes when he asked you to join him, "Thank you for tagging along, baby. I know this is not your scene so it's nice you came."

"I'm just here for the drinks and snacks," you teased, watching him roll his eyes at you, "And to enjoy the evening with my handsome fiancé, of course."

"There we go," he smiled now, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss to the ring on your finger.

Ever since you got engaged, that had became his favorite habit, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

"It sucks that I have to take it off," you said, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow, "The ring, I mean. I have to take it off before we get out of the car, otherwise headlines will go crazy and Jeff is going to freak out."

"Mm-hmm," he paused to think, eyes darting for the road to you, "What if... you don't have to take it off?"

"What do you mean?" you said, noticing that you were about to enter the back of the stadium.

"I mean..." he grabbed your hand again, tugging the ring affectionately, "What if we let the world know about it? I talked to Jeff and the rest of the team last week, they said we could make it public whenever we felt like it, at our own terms. So why don't we do it today?"

Harry parked the car at the spot that was reserved for him and turned to look at you with a wide smile, waiting for your answer.

"Are you sure?" you smiled back at him, noticing the glow in his eyes that almost made you melt.

"Couldn't be more sure, love. Besides, the album is coming soon and everyone is going to connect the dots as soon as they listen to the first song, might as well give them an early heads up."

"Let's do it," you said, leaning over to kiss him, "I feel like everyone is going to focus on the fact that you're finally outside and with brand new hair, they won't even notice the rock on my finger."

Harry rolled his eyes again and gave you another kiss, "I swear to god, woman. You're something else."

You headed inside of the stadium to the VIP suit you were going to watch the game in, walking hand in hand with your engagement ring glistening on your finger, cameras around filming and taking pictures of both of you.

"Do you think twitter is freaking out yet?" you asked Harry as you settled on your seats.

"No idea, baby, I don't use that app," he shrugged, "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Would you get me something fruity that has alcohol that doesn't quite taste like alcohol? That's the only way I won't be bored to death."

"Sure thing." Harry laughed and kissed the side of your head before standing up to get your drink, coming back a few minutes later with exactly what you asked and a bottle of sparkling water for himself.

"So we're rooting for Man U, right?" you asked as you took a sip from your drink.

"Seven years together, months away from getting married, yet you still don't know I'm a Man U ride or die," he put a hand on his chest, "I don't think this is going to work."

"I was just teasing, drama queen," you pecked his cheek, "I know your true loves are Man U, the Green Bay Packers, peas and Fleetwood Mac."

"And you," he winked, making you roll your eyes with affection and take another sip from your drink.

A few minutes into the game, you found yourself quite invested on it, constantly asking Harry about the stuff you didn't understand and getting nervous when the other team was about to score or your team missed a goal.

"Lord, I don't want to watch," you said as a player from the opposite team was getting ready to hit a penalty, hiding your face against Harry's shoulder, "Harry! You're supposed to be watching the game, you've been staring at me for half of it now."

"Sorry, you're just too cute," he kissed the crown of your head, "You can watch now, he failed it."

"Thank god."

By the end of the game, you were both on your feet, cheering as Man United secured a win. Harry was ecstatic, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, cheering alongside him.

While you were engulfed in your own bubble during the game, cameras has caught up on the ring of your finger, and Harry and you immediately became a world trending topic, with fans speculating whether you were actually engaged or not.

As you laid in bed scrolling through the millions of tweets about the game Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, ready to get in the covers.

"Are you reading about us?" he asked, sliding into bed beside you.

"Yeah," you replied, showing him some of the tweets, "But I don't think it was quite clear for some of your fans, some of them don't think we're really engaged."

"Well, I guess it'll be clear when the album comes out."

[lvmazzy]

- playing dangerous !

summary: Heesung doesn't hide his favoritism for his girl in the kpop industry.

pairing: manager!heeseung x idol!fem!reader

word/character count: 6K / 6297

warnings: grammatical errors, profanity, implied sex, obscenity, kpop, gg kpop, favoritism, affair between co-workers...

gender: little smut, fluff(?), funny(??)

author's notes: hihi my luvs!! I'm finally back. it's my first time writing something about enhypen and a little more raunchy, sooo I hope you like it! don't forget to give your feedback which is very important. xoxo 💋

It was a fact that Heeseung had a soft spot for you. From the day he saw you practicing in the rehearsal room, he certainly saw potential, charisma and beauty.

Your kpop group wasn't as acclaimed and recognized yet and that frustrated you. But things changed when you met Heeseung, he was a nice, young and extremely attractive guy - sinful thoughts ran through your mind making you dizzy - you saw how excited he was to be your new manager and help elevate your career.

Your dream was to be famous, the fame, the lust, the spotlight was your dream and Heeseung sure promised you all of that.

Things started to look better since you entered into an agreement with Heeseung, he was a great agent and manager. Album sales were up, views were growing, listeners on spotify were increasing and all of this was thanks to your manager Heeseung.

You were eternally grateful and happy for all your manager's work, he even increased your distribution lines on songs, invested in sponsors, in other words, you were the center of everything!

It was late at night when you had just come off another successful stage. You looked radiant, with rosy cheeks, hair on your forehead from dancing, and a breathtakingly flawless outfit.

The ecstasy was visible on your face as you entered your dressing room. Looking at yourself in the mirror, admiring every detail, so wrapped up in the countless compliments, you suddenly felt a pair of hands on your waist which made you jump in fright.

"Heeseung! You scared me!" you say with wide eyes and a hand on your heart.

"sorry my little kitten, I just came here to congratulate you." your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname making you blush. Then immediately he pulled you closer to himself. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"you were amazing tonight, I'm so proud of you..." Heeseung whispered as he distributed several kisses with light bites on your neck, making you shiver with every touch.

"Heeseung... we.... can't....." it was almost a whisper. You tried to form coherent sentences, but Heeseung's kisses became hotter and hotter.

"why not? We've done it several times right here, remember?" he let out a nasal laugh after saying that, looking at your face with that seductive smile you couldn't resist. "or do you prefer my house?"

you paused for a moment and thought... your chest rising and falling because of the accelerated breathing. That's when you cracked a mischievous smile that made Heeseung smile too. "I get it, you really are a nasty girl." after saying that, he pulls you out of the dressing room and takes you to his car.

The ride was quiet and calm, you realized how attractive Heesung was tonight. The way he held the steering wheel and how his hair was slightly messy made you bite your lip trying to contain it.

Heeseung quickly noticed your behavior and brought one of his hands to your thigh and began to caress it slowly. He was teasing you, you knew him too well to know that kind of game.

When you finally arrived at his house, you quickly kissed him with all your strength and desperation.

He pinned you to the door and sunk his lips into yours, making your tongues roll together in sync. You gave a soft moan, which made Heeseung go crazy.

"i didn't know you were that needy." Heeseung said with a malicious smile on his face and with one of his eyebrows raised.

"shut up." You pursed your lips again and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Heesung held you and led you to your room, you had come here several times before and never seemed to change.

He laid you down on the bed gently with your lips still attached and pulled away for a moment, making you moan from the lack of contact.

"patience princess." he pulled off his shirt revealing the toned body you adored. It was quite a sight.

Moving closer to you, Heeseung began to distribute kisses on your thighs making you dizzy with pleasure.

"what? Cat got your tongue? Tell me what you want." a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"you..."

"hmm I don't think you've convinced me." he says pulling away leaving you frustrated and looking at your face that was almost closed.

"I want you, please. I want to feel you." you say under your breath making him smile in response.

He kissed you once again hovering above and lowered his lips on your neck leaving several bites. At this point you could only moan softly and try to keep your eyes open.

"you know how much I love this skirt on you, it's a shame we don't need it right now." with one action, he takes off your skirt throwing it in any corner on the floor.

You pull him into a desperate, passionate kiss, as his hands roam all over your body, squeezing and caressing.

He runs his thumb across your lips and caresses them, as you look up at him with the brightest eyes.

"you're a mess, princess." he says laughing as he stands mesmerized by you. In response, you gently kiss his thumb.

Suddenly, you both hear a low purr coming from the floor snapping you out of your trance.

"what...." you say confused.

It's then that a white ball of fur climbs onto the bed disturbing your moment.

"ownn it's just Yoon. I miss you my love." you say stroking and kissing Heeseung's cat several times, making him snort.

"okay okay, now we're at an important moment you know?" he retorts taking the cat off his lap and putting it away from you on the bed.

"i don't think she wants to see what her parents are about to do."

"what if she decides to watch?" he says to you in a teasing way while taking off your shirt.

"that would be pretty weird." you said a little out of breath because of Heeseung.

"I think she'll like that view." he says not stopping to look at you, specifically, your body that was only in your bra.

In response, you rolled your eyes and hit his shoulder playfully making him laugh.

"sorry, but you're always so hot, my star."

"oh my, what a corny nickname!" you say groaning in embarrassment making you both laugh.

"deep down you found it exciting."

"Heeseung if you don't shut your mouth I swear I'm going home."

"okay, I'm done!" he said in yielding, waving his hands in the air. "where were we? ah, yeah, the part where I take off all your clothes. Shit, you're so beautiful!"

"Heeseung focus!"

"right, sorry."

original by @lvmazzy , 2023

[sourlove]

YANDERE ROCKSTAR 🎸 INTRO FIC (200 Follower Special!)

TW: HE GETS YANDERE LATER ON. NOTHING REALLY IN THIS ONE, CARRY ON

THANKS SO MUCH FOR 200+ FOLLOWERS! ENJOY!

(FEMALE GROUPIE READER)

Smoke billowed from Axel's parted lips as he ran a hand down his face. The club was hazy and jampacked with drunk people grinding on each other. It would have been too much if he had been a part of the sweaty throng, but Axel had the luxury of watching them from the balcony of the VIP section.

He sighed and took another drag of his cigarette, dropping his head back against the seat. He shouldn't have come here.

"Axe! My man!" An arm slung over Axel's shoulder and he was greeted with the unwelcome face of the Jailbird drummer, Max. The man grinned at the distaste on Axel's face. "Jeez, man, you've been so uptight lately. Should I get some girls?"

"Get off me," Axel grumbled. He couldn't even be bothered to shake him off. "You know why I'm fucking stressed."

Max hummed in understanding and handed him a bottle of beer. For the past few days, Axel couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. Jailbird's new album was supposed to come out in a few months and for the life of, him, he couldn't stop mulling over the title track. It was the most important song in the album, one that should be guaranteed to make headlines. One that he hadn't written yet.

"Would you look at that?" Max mumbled, causing Axel to glance towards the entrance of the VIP lounge. The bass guitarist, Eli and the pianist, Maryanne, came in laughing. But they weren't alone. They were followed by a gaggle of girls, all awe-struck and giggling at whatever story Elijah was telling. Max immediately gravitated towards the group, followed by the other guitarist Riley.

Axel stayed seated and sipped his drink, ignoring them when Max tried to pull him into the conversation. He didn't have time for this. Normally, he would be working his charm on some poor girl, using her to blow of some steam and slip away once he was done.

But there was an itch he couldn't scratch tonight. One that had him snapping at the only girl who dared to try her luck with the lead singer and guitarist of the band. Everyone steered clear after that. He needed some kind of inspiration for the fucking song and nothing in this club was helping.

Axel was nearly done with his third cigarette when his eyes drifted and suddenly met yours. E/C eyes widened and immediately darted away. He would have thought nothing of it if you didn't glance back after a few seconds, looking embarrassed when you made eye contact once again. He smirked and took you in for the first time that night. Now there was a surprise. There was something striking to you. You were dressed the same as the other girls and seemed starstruck by everything, just like them, but there was a freshness to you that intrigued Axel.

Before he could register his thoughts, he beckoned you over. You blinked and looked around. He shook his head and pointed directly at you, grinning. You stood up shakily and walked to him, looking like a newborn fawn in your precariously high heels.

"H-hi," you said, standing next to the couch.

"Hi. Come sit." Axel made room for you, just enough that your thighs still touched. You twisted your hands nervously as he drank in the sight of you.

"Um, i-it's nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan."

"You like Jailbird?" he asked. "What's your favorite song, then?"

You jumped when his hand played with the collar of your blouse. It was cute, like you. A bit revealing, Axel noted, as his eyes drifted over your cleavage, but nice. Simple.

"Oh no. I mean the band is awesome, but I'm really just a fan of you." You ducked your head shyly. "I like 'Starlight'."

He laughed loudly, surprised. "You know Starlight? Fuck, that's an old song. I don't believe you."

'Starlight' was one of the few songs he performed alone, when Jailbird was just a dream that only he and Max believed in. Axel only ever sang it once, at a random talent show and he didn't even place on the board. It had been a blight in his career, one he buried with new albums and songs that topped the charts. So he was genuinely surprised to see you reach into your bag and unfold a creased flyer for the talent show, dated years ago. On the back, was his old signature, a rough scrawl that he hated but remembered.

"Shit." Axel squinted at the paper, suddenly sober. "You-you really were there..."

"I don't think you would remember me," you babbled on, oblivious to his internal thoughts. "I wanted to ask for a picture, but you didn't look so good, which I understand because you were robbed! I-I mean, you obviously deserved first place, Starlight was-is amazing!"

Axel didn't like to be reminded of the time when he was nobody, when nothing he ever wrote was good enough, especially not Starlight. It was his first song, his favorite song, until all he got for it was scattered applause and a participation slip. The band was formed and Axel had a new sound, a new meaning to his songs. Starlight did not cut it anymore.

And now, here you were, digging up his dirty past, holding it to his face. And showing him how much you loved it. It was humbling. Axel didn't like to be humbled. But he liked you. He liked you very, very much.

"Ever had a shotgun kiss?" He asked, interrupting your rant. You blinked again and shook your head.

"Oh no, I don't smoke, sorry."

"You could start," Axel said, holding his cigarette up. He took a long drag and grabbed you face, squishing your cheeks to part your lips. He smirked when your breath hitched as your mouths met and chuckled when you coughed, pulling away from him. "Not bad, starlight. Just needs some practice." He held out his bottle and you took a tentative sip, smiling shyly. Cute.

"You're much nicer than you look," you commented. Only to immediately backtrack. "N-not that you look mean or anything! It just seems like you prefer being alone..."

Axel hummed, lighting another stick. He held it up to you and stared at you with an eyebrow raised. You grimaced but wrapped your lips around it anyway. When you stopped coughing, he said, "You should listen to your instincts. I'm not so nice, starlight."

He watched you fiddle with the hem of your skirt for a moment, before glancing up at him through your lashes. "Well...what if I don't want to listen to them?"

Suddenly, Axel wanted nothing more than to leave the club with you on his arm. He grinned and stood up, offering his hand to you. "Oi, Max! I'm heading back so don't wait up!"

You blushed as your friends cheered, and Max gave Axel a thumbs up. "Where are we going?" Were you really that clueless? Axel would have a lot of fun ruining that innocence.

"Just you wait, starlight," he purred into your ear, nipping at the soft shell as you shivered. "I'm going to change your life."

Hours later, in his hotel suite, as his sweat cooled and his heartbeat slowed, Axel's mind buzzed with ideas. The inspiration he had been desperately searching for rushed to him as you nuzzled into his neck, sleepily.

"What did you say your name was again, starlight?"

"Hmmm? Y/N."

"Fuck that's a pretty name," he breathed.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N...it looked like he had a title for the song. All he had to do was start writing down and tweaking the lyrics. But that would have to come later. Axel pulled you closer and drifted to the first peaceful rest he'd had in weeks, with your name still on his tongue.

Y/N...

READ PART 2 HERE

FIND MY MASTERPOST AND ALL OTHER LINKS HERE

A/N: Hope you guys love Axel as much as you love Lucas! If you enjoyed, leave a like, comment and reblog. Or drop and ask for anything you had in mind. Loves ya xxx

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : (seperate) miles morales & pavitr prabhakar x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : "i think i'm inlove.." "congrats, you're the last person to know."

↳ authors note : requests by @junipershrubs & @magicdefendorwolf !! i hope you both enjoy !! sort of crack & fluff ??? this isnt super srs just some cute shenanigans :)

Way before Miles became Spiderman, you and him were a pair that couldn't be seperated. Your parents were very close with Miles' parents, leading to various different playdates and meetings with your newfound friend at the time.

Even as kids, Mr and Mrs Morales plus your parents knew something was going to happen between you two when you'd get older. Whether good or bad, it was the way little Miles looked at you and continues to look at you with was something else. That little smile of absolute adoration when he sees you shine was never seen when it came to anyone else, just you, always you.

So he's confused when his parents exchange knowing glances, a smile on his mothers face and a proud one on his fathers. "So.. you're okay that I'm inlove with (name)...?"

"Miles, we knew long before you did."

"What."

He blinks a few times in disbelief, looking at Jeff who nods in confirmation. "Like.. since diapers. It was very very obvious." Miles watches as he walks over to a baby album, one that he hadn't recognized. It wasn't as big as the other ones he had seen before, but it definitely had a lot of pictures. "We were preparing for this moment."

You can imagine his confusion when the first page reads; "How Miles looks at them."

You can also imagine how embarassed he gets when he realizes its a compilation of photos of him looking at you with that love-struck expression he's always had.

"THAT'S HOW I LOOK AT (name)?!" Miles squeaks, in utter disbelief as his father chuckles at his expression. "For years, that's how you've looked at them. Have you seriously not noticed??" Jeff says curiously, raising a brow as he closed the book.

"..N-no? I guess.. I guess I really have been inlove with them all this time."

Rio softly ruffles his hair, still smiling all the while. "Congratulations! You're the last person to know, mi hijo."

PAVITR always thought his affection for you was simply platonic but was completely clueless to his romantic feelings since he thought of you as 'an amazing friend that I'd love to spend my whole life with'

At some point, during a conversation with Hobie and Gwen, the topic shifts to the relationship of him and you.. mostly on how you're doing.

"Oh! Me and (name) are doing great! Actually, their beauty continues to blossom more and more everyday! Their laugh is still as sweet as a song, and their smile?? It's like they get prettier every time I see them!"

Hobie blinks in disbelief, the biscuit in Gwens mouth fell out because of how her jaw that could've probably fall to the floor if it was possible.

"...You guys are just friends, right?"

"Do we seem like something else?"

Pavitr seems just as stunned as the two of them, and Hobie chuckles and puts his hand on his best friends shoulders.

"A'right, Pav. You're really feelin' nothin' a little.. special for this lil friend of yours?" He raises a brow, watching the indian Spiderman nod his head.

"Nooothin'?"

"Nothing! Nothing super strange anyway."

"So if they were to ask you to date 'em right now, would you decline?"

"No! I like them quite a lot so I'd say that-"

Hobie looks him dead in the eye, squeezing his shoulder to cut him off and a dead serious look as he wants Pavitr to reflect on his answer.

"You...?"

"Like them!"

...

"...Ohhhhh."

"This madlad..."

[two-white-butterflies]

mastermind | d3

Description: Ms. L/N turns to Mrs. L/N. In which, you ponder where you've been - and where you are now.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo/singer!reader

yournameupdates: There's a lot to unpack with Y/N's new album. The consensus is 7 of the songs written are about her ex-boyfriend: Tom Hiddleston, while Style (ft. Taylor Swift) is about Harry Styles? What could be the reason for the L/N-Hiddleston breakup?

likes by danielricciardo, balana291, and 92,129 others

comments

danielricciardo: More interested to hear about the record-breaking awards she's going to earn after this. - yournameupdates: She's definitely in for the records.

archianana29: I think it's because Hiddleston wants to seem like a bachelor?? Because of his new marvel film. - wannna82: she's not any better, she's profiting off his success. - - oceansdeap0: @wanna82 mind you, she came out of nowhere. - - - wannna82: @oceansdeap0 exacto! publicity stunt?

yournamehiddleston: According to Y/N's newest single: All You Had To Do Was Stay. Tom Hiddleston was the first one who called things off - but after a few months of being alone, he wanted to get back with her. Hence her explaination. All he had to do was stay :(

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comments

f1multistan: Daniel is everywhere these days - watchasay8: Who? - - f1multistan: the f1 racer

hesaysme129: 'YOU WERE ALL I WANTED' it's over I think.

yn1989era: I love how it's her first album and she already has 1000m fans 😭 - katyandyn: Teenage Dream and 1989 are no skip albums

Daniel Ricciardo couldn't believe that he was invited to attend the Grammys. It wasn't like he did anything groundbreaking in the realm of the music industry - but thanks to his amazing management - he was finally there. Normally, he hated award shows because of the cameras that were shoved in his face.

But he couldn't find himself hating this award show.

His favorite singer, Y/N L/N, was going to be in the same table as him. He crossed his fingers - maybe even beside him?

"God, I'm so sorry for being late. There was a mile long traffic back there," you ran to embrace Beyonce, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as you settled in your seat. Daniel began to realize that he was extremely lucky to be seating where he was.

"Daniel Ricciardo, right?" you smiled at him with those pensive E/C eyes - pulling him back into reality. "Yes, I'm a big fan." he shook your hand, feeling those soft palms press against his.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

"Is it your first time in the Grammys?" you inquired, gently fiddling with the hems of your dress. "Yeah," he scratched the back of his head - oblivious to the cameras that were planted on the both of you. "It's nice to have someone to relate to," you chuckled as it was also your first time. "I heard that award shows could get pretty boring," you consulted in him.

Daniel felt so fucking special in that moment.

You were sitting beside Beyonce, but chose to speak to him. Fuck, does that mean that he was better than Beyonce? Nope, that's blasphemy - but still, it was flattering to think that you'd choose him.

"Tell me when you get bored, there's an ice-cream place just around the corner. We could grab a few bites." he offered - taking a leap of fate. "Sounds like a plan," you smiled and he could feel the crimson blush creep up his cheeks.

✧✧✧

This was something that he'd never forget. He couldn't wait to return to the paddocks and tell Sebastian that he had ice cream with THE Y/N L/N. "Is strawberry your favorite?" he asked, seeing you gobble down the large sized roll. "Yep, I put it in everything." you smiled.

It's been a month since you last tasted strawberry ice cream - you almost forgot how good it tasted. "I'm having a lot of fun, Dan." you complimented - seeing that the tip of his nose was coated with a chocolate syrup. "Darling, there's a little something -" you motioned.

He almost forgot how to move after hearing you call him that.

He flashed you his toothy grinned smile, before wiping the syrup off his nose. "So uhh, I'd like to get your number - so we can hang out another time." you asked, staring deep into his eyes.

Daniel realized that this was the chance of a lifetime. He almost reached for his phone to give you his number - but then he realized. He left his phone at home and he didn't memorize his number.

So instead of giving you his number - he came up with something that he'd regret until the day he died - or until the day he met you again. "No." he answered with confidence. "What?" your eyes narrowed, and he smiled again.

"I'll ask for your number the next time that I see you. To check if fate is really on our side." he explained and you could only smile back.

yournameupdates: Y/N L/N and Richard Madden are confirmed to be dating! Congratulations, she's finally found her Prince Charming.

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theyn_ln: He's certainly a Prince Charming! LOL - yournameupdates: 🥺

hennalova9: THEY LOOK SO PERFECT TOGETHER I'M SO HAPPY THAT SHE MOVED ON 😭

heysistersoul23: THIS IS ENDGAME

danielricciardo: You didn't hear it from me folks, but @theyn_ln is releasing a song tonight. 😉

liked by theyn_ln, maddenrichard and 1,291,192 others

comments

theyn_ln: Well, I rarely break promises.

maddenrichard: 🔥

formulalover91: DANIEL AND Y/N? THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

theyn_ln: Message in a Bottle MV will be released MIDNIGHT EST. @danielricciardo I always believed in you.

liked by danielricciardo and 1,290,120 likes

comments

danielricciardo: meetup when?

maddenrichard: I'm very proud of you - theyn_ln: thank you mi amor ❤️

yournameupdates: According to some insiders, Richard Madden proposed to Lilly James this March 4, 2017. But where does that leave Y/N? We demand an explaination. @maddenrichard

liked by 429,390

comments

theyn_ln: I honestly don't know what's happening right now. Please give me space luv ❤️ - yournameupdates: Yes ma'am

thisloveis1989: The way that she saw a future with him and he threw it away. 1 YEAR TOGETHER AND HE THREW IT AWAY?

thismyrealspace9: the album finna hit

theyn_ln: You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson.

💜 Foolish One and Better Man out MIDNIGHT EST.

liked by danielricciardo and 1,291,002 others

comments

danielricciardo: The songs will be beautiful, but I hope that you're OK. - theyn_ln: Getting there!

taylorynkatyuniverse: FOOLISH ONE HURTS! BETTER MAN HURTS EVEN MORE 😭

icedamericano4: I see the permanent damage you did to me. RICHARD MADDEN YOU ARE PUBLIC ENEMY #1.

Daniel couldn't believe his fucking eyes. It was you.

"Y/N." his eyebrows softened, seeing the familiar posture. "Dan," you turned to look at him - inviting him with a warm embrace. "It's been 5 years since we've last seen each other," you buried your face in his shoulders, inhaling his scent of vanilla and chocolate.

"I thought I lost you for a second," he chuckled, completely forgetting about the drivers that were waiting for him back in the yacht. "Maybe this time you'll finally give me your number," you suggested and a nervous chuckle left his lips. "I'll be honest with you," he began.

"- I totally forgot my phone back at home the first time you asked me." he confessed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and offering it to you. "But I'm not letting you go this time." he smiled.

(2021)

theyn_ln: 7 years overdue, but here she is. My 2nd studio album 'folklore' will be out on September 23. Pre-order is available. You can also order @danielricciardo 's merch while you're at it hehe.

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 2,192,190 others

comments

danielricciardo: The album is 10000/10 - theyn_ln: glad to have ur opinion

carlossainz55: Are we invited to the listening party? - danielricciardo: Already happened buddy, the invitation must've gotten lost in the mail. 😭

maxverstappen1: 💜

theyn_ln: Officially Mrs. L/N-Ricciardo. 💍

liked by danielricciardo and 3,129,102 likes

comments have been restricted.

danielricciardo: Mr. L/N-Ricciardo is officially my job title.

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,291,092 others

comments have been restricted.

@lpab07 @ietss @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan

[pirateprincessblog]

ateez nsfw links 🫧

Park Seonghwa

Park Seonghwa loves to go live and entertain his fans. All those legos, food, talk and more have you sighing of boredom in his hotel room. You are sitting on Hongjoong’s bed, behind Seonghwa’s screen, in a not so innocent position. You make him stutter in front of the camera, and you laugh every time he has to stop talking for a moment. When you stretch your body and crack your back in a doggy position, he is in a hurry to end his live and join you on that bed.

“I could turn that live back on just like that, with the camera facing you.”

Kim Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t necessarily require much attention. He is very much satisfied with you squirming under him. You are tipsy in the passenger seat, teasing Hongjoong about the couple you saw fucking in the club toilet and how it turned you on. He listens to you rant about how fast he fingered her and how loud she was moaning over the music. At some point, you even say you wish you could cum so many times in a row. And so while you beg him to stop, but don’t shout the safe word yet, he is completely focused in the way his knuckles disappear inside of you, his knees holding your legs apart and tongue on your clit.

“How many more until I prove my point?”

Jeong Yunho

Jeong Yunho looked absolutely dashing at today’s stage, and you’re sick and tired of scrolling through all the husband Yunho tweets from fans. You are jealous that they got to see him in that shirt and that hair before you. You’ve gotten all dolled up, waiting for him to arrive, but in the meantime, you’ve seen quite a few edits from today that made you pissed off again. So when he comes back home and realises why you’re running from his affection, he has to take the matter in his own hands and show you that only you get to feel the shirt on him.

“Jealous of your husband’s fans, when you’re such a pretty wife?”

Kang Yeosang

Kang Yeosang wants to make your first time absolutely perfect. He takes his time making out with you, feeling your body up, gently rubbing your most sensitive spots, until you are dripping through your panties and staining his trousers. But when he sees that you are not quite ready, he takes a different approach, one that is pleasurable for both of you.

“You’re so good for me.”

Choi San

Choi San is a gamer, and sometimes it pisses you off that he spends so much time sitting at the computer. You confront him, not realising that he hasn’t disconnected from Discord yet. He bites the inside of his cheek, containing his amusement mixed with anger as you go off and his friends laugh through the headphones. Once you’re finished, he mutes himself, throwing the headphones aside and pushing you over the desk. At some point, he unmutes himself, just to show his friends that you’re good at yelling about other things too.

“Yell at me some more, I didn’t quite get it the first time.”

Song Mingi

Song Mingi enjoys all the freebies you get as an influencer. From free snacks, free movie tickets, to perfumes, and lingerie he gets to see on you and rip off you. However, todays package was different. They were temporary long lasting tattoos, and he remembers you telling him how attractive you think they are. He witnessed you complimenting Wooyoung and Hongjoong, but he wasn’t quite yet willing to get one himself. So when he got permission from you to open the package while you aren’t home, he prepared a little surprise that had you gasping when you arrived home. Needless to say, he was enjoying the attention you were giving him.

“All the way down, like a good girl.”

Jung Wooyoung

Jung Wooyoung is happy his partner has finally debuted. He is also aware of the mature concept the company has decided to give you. You didn’t show him any songs or outfits until the album and MV came out. But before that, you performed it in front of fans on the show he’s been on countless times. He wasn’t quite prepared for that mature. Stockings, a leather dress, platform boots, and dark smeared lipstick, along with the upbeat song and dance moves, almost gave him a heart attack while standing aside and watching live. And yet you wonder how you ended up with the fishnet gloves in your mouth back in his hotel room, his hands firm on your waist.

“Fuck noona, giving me a VIP show? Think I deserve it? That I’m your biggest most loyal fan?”

Choi Jongho

Choi Jongho gives his all when he performs. How funny that a video of just him sitting during Cyberpunk went viral. Now, whenever he sits, you get horny. Especially with that focused, half angry look on his face. You haven’t said anything yet, but when he comes home from practice and plops down on the couch, throwing his head over the backrest of it, you lose it. You get on his lap, unable to control yourself. He is confused, but doesn’t complain. Neither do you when he plunges his cock into you, looking into your eyes with the same stare as in the video.

“I’ll take good care of you.”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter one:

➴ warnings: smut (unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, dirty talk, public sex kinda?), drinking, curse words, jealous fmc and jack being a playboy.

➴ word count: 3.7k

➴ author’s note: this went on a completely different trajectory… sorry for being a whore you guys 😓

—♡

“FUCK, Soph, you’re always so fucking tight for me, baby.”

Jack’s moans were heaven sent. Hearing them would never get old and you were still surprised they were for you, even six months later.

“Harder, Hughes, come on,” you ordered, feeling confident that he would do what you wanted for once.

You would later find out that Jack had a dominant hand in everything— hockey, sex, games. He needed to be in control in order to be sane, and you understood, you really did, but if he didn’t fuck you harder you’d start crying at any minute.

You probably said that last part out loud because next thing you know, Jack is sinking into you again, a bit harder this time.

“Yeah? Maybe that’s exactly what I want. Wanna see that pretty, doll-like face wet with tears, while you try to fuck yourself open on my cock.”

“I fucking hate you, I hope you know that,” you mumbled, hand reaching down to touch your aching clit. “Can’t fucking stand you.”

He just smirked, and covered your hand with his, rubbing and applying pressure on your clit, making you squirm on top of him. The idea was to ride his dick quickly because it was already four in the morning and probably your fourth round, but Jack was being difficult for some reason.

“Jack, I’m being so real right now,” you moaned, feeling frustrated. “If you don’t fuck me hard and rough right now, I’ll find a dick elsewhere.”

Something like anger flashed through his eyes, and even though he didn’t say anything, you could see that bothered him. You smiled when he slammed himself inside of you, angry and rough, just how you both liked it.

You lowered your body at the same time he lifted his, and the sex dance was just to die for. No one did it like Jack, not your shitty ex, not any guy before him. He was like a sex God, always making you come at least twice before he gets to come inside the condom— or inside your mouth, or on your tits.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, voice still a bit raspy from singing and screaming at the concert you had earlier.

“Yeah? Like it like this, baby?” He whispered, his cock reaching places inside you didn’t even know you had.

You nodded, biting your lips.

Finally.

You and Jack have been fucking for almost six months now. What was supposed to be a one time thing, turned into a sex arrangement when he texted you, a week after fucking you for the first time.

You didn’t have anything to lose, in fact, it was a win-win situation for both of you. And with the way you both kept it on the low— you’re assuming he didn’t tell anyone, and you only told Grace—, not a single gossip Instagram page knew about your hook-up.

You both came at the same time— another thing that happens a lot whenever you’re with Jack—, and you sighed, loudly.

“We’re getting too good at this,” you said, wiping the sweat from your face, and getting off of him. You laid down, resting your head on his sweaty chest.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he answered, planting a kiss on your forehead. You smiled, liking how sweet he is after sex.

You both stayed quiet for a few minutes, breathing in sync, enjoying the peaceful satisfaction of a good fucking. But then;

“How’s your album doing?”

You frowned, more surprised than anything. It wasn’t unusual for you to have a small pillow talk before any of you left, and you tried not to read much into it, because it was just that. Talking. Mostly about his games and your concerts, but nothing too personal. Talking about your songs with people always felt too personal, because your songs were your feelings.

And especially with your new upcoming album, rip to my feelings. It was your most important album yet, and you kept it really close to your heart. So Jack asking about it meant only one thing.

He, for some goddamn reason, cared.

“How do you know about it?” You chuckled, watching as the sun started to rise behind his curtains. You fucked the entire night. Damn.

“I follow you on Instagram, dumbass,” you couldn’t see it, but you would swear on your mother’s life that he rolled his eyes after speaking.

“I haven’t announced anything yet, dumbass. Tell me the truth.”

“Well, Grace might have talked about it the last time we saw each other.” You could feel him half-shrugging.

“That girl can’t keep a secret to save her life,” you giggled. “It’s fine. It's a bit hard to complete it though.”

“Why?”

There it was. Jack acting like he truly wanted to know about your stuff.

You ignored the tug on your heart and kept going.

“It’s too personal,” you started. “All of my previous songs are good and I love them, but they’re just… songs. It’s like I’m telling someone else’s story, y’know? They’re not about me.”

“Not even the horny part?” You could hear the smile on his lips.

You smacked him on the chest, smiling too. “Okay. Maybe just that part.”

“What are the songs about?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Do you own any gossip accounts?”

This time you heard his laugh.

“Not that I know of, no.”

“I guess it won’t hurt to tell you, then. It’s a bit embarrassing though,” you whispered the last part.

“Try me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

He shouldn’t call you that when you were lying on top of him, snuggled and glued to his chest.

“It’s about Harris.”

“Oh, the dickhead, asshole.”

You chuckled. You weren’t even the one who told Jack about Harris. Grace did. In fact, she made sure to spread the information to almost everyone on the Devils team. Now half of the men on the team had beef with the actor. It was funny.

But Jack looked like he hated the guy. Every time Harris was mentioned, he’d lock his jawline, and his eyes would turn a different shade of blue, almost ocean like.

You wondered why, though.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “It’s not like I still care about him, it’s just… some of the songs I wrote while we were still together, and the others I just… they kept coming and I’m not a girl to hold back.”

He snorted. “That you aren’t. You’re a feisty, little kitten.”

“Call me that again and I swear to God you’ll never fuck me again.” You said, fake mad. He laughed, again.

“Noted,” he murmured, running his hands through your hair. “For the record, I don’t think it’s embarrassing for you to talk about him. I hope you wrote really mean things about him and I hope he gets dragged on the internet by all of your fans.”

You audibly laughed.

Jack was incredibly funny whenever he got that sassy man attitude on him.

“Jesus, you’ve been around Grace way too much.”

He went silent for a while, both of you staring at the sunrise in front of you. It was peaceful, and warm. You could feel the sleep making its way inside your body and it was more than welcome.

“Can you sing a bit for me?” Jack whispered. You were once again surprised by his actions, but you did what he asked anyway.

“This one’s called opposite,” you took a moment to organize the lyrics in your head, before starting.

“Oh, so you do have a type and it's not me.

Oh, so you can reply, just to not me.

If you wanted brown eyes, I coulda got contacts.

So y'all are in Paris now, guess it's public.

Face like that other girl you're in love with.

You knew I would see that.

You knew I would notice. She looks nothin' like me”

You could feel his arms squeezing you, and you smiled through the sad song.

“Sorry, my voice isn’t great now. I think I fucked my vocal cords up with how much I screamed for you tonight.” You apologized, tone playful and sleepy.

He gently moved underneath you, grabbing your chin and locking his also sleepy gaze with yours. “Your voice is perfect,” he says, voice soft. “And I really like your eyes just like they are.”

You smiled, leaning in and kissing him softly. His tongue on yours made you feel all jelly-like, as it always did.

“Thank you.” You whispered, letting sleep take over your body.

— ♡

THE clock read one p.m. when you woke up, Jack’s body crushing yours with its weight. You mentally reprimanded yourself: rule number one of one-night-stands: never spend the night.

Yet you still did it.

You tried to get out of bed without waking him up; no success.

“Where are you going?”

You stretched your body, feeling sore and tired. You noticed that you were naked too. Ooops.

“I’m going to my house, lover boy,” you smiled, putting your hair up in a bun and looking for your clothes. When you found them, you put them on and made a mental note to start bringing extra clothes to your hookup sessions.

Not that you were planning on spending any more nights at his place. It was just because it is uncomfortable to wear dirty clothes.

Jack sat on the bed, shirtless and so fucking cute. How could a man look that cute five seconds after waking up?

“Will we see each other next week?” He asked, looking directly at you.

“Huh, maybe we’ll see each other tonight? Nico invited me and Grace to his birthday party. Are you coming too?”

He looked confused for a second before letting understanding take over his face.

“I almost forgot about that, God,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Then I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

He got up, standing in his naked glory and morning wood. You whistled, laughing right after. He rolled his eyes at you and put on his boxers.

“Bye, then.” You whispered, feeling your chest hurting for some unknown reason. You walked towards the door, but just before you left his huge ass room, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you close to his naked chest.

He kissed your forehead gently before smiling at you. “Bye, Soph.”

You left his house like your ass was on fire.

sophiamontenegro

liked by morgan.grace, nhl, jackhughes, and 997,521 others.

sophiamontenegro happy nico day everyone! can’t describe how much i adore u ❤️ @ nicohischier

View all 278,893 comments

nicohischier Love you 😌

love4soph RUE WHEN WAS THIS?

montenegro.lover didnt know my girl was a hockey fan

whoreforsoph y’all acting like she didn’t sing at the devils charity gala like six months ago and posted a picture with nico’s jersey too 🤣

user7982 @whoreforsoph no bc fr and nico once posted a picture at her concert like?? People are so dumb lmfao

carlasantos @user7982 @whoreforsoph the only thing that’s surprising here is JACK HUGHES liking this post and following soph. When did this even happen????

sophias1ut she’s so goddamn fine lord help me

jessica8982_ When’s the new album coming out 😓

sophiamontenegro @jessica8982_ soon my love i promise!

— ♡

“HAPPY birthday, Nico!”

Nico Hischier was one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. In these six months that passed, you’ve grown so fond of him it was almost comical. But you couldn’t help it— he was just a big, fluffy teddy bear.

“Hey there, cutie, thank you,” he hugged you tightly, before moving to Grace behind you. “Hi, Gracey lady,”

You smiled, taking in Nico’s Monterey type of house. It wasn’t your first time there, but anything was better than watching Grace and Nico passive-flirt with each other.

“Hi, Nico, happy birthday.” You heard your best friend say.

His house was somewhat full: lots of hockey players and their girlfriends, Nico’s family and some other friends.

And right there, in the open living room, sitting on the couch beside a… girl. A blonde, gorgeous girl, was Jack Hughes himself.

You raised your brow at him, and he raised his to mimic yours.

“I ordered pizza for everyone, but there’s also plenty of food in the kitchen, Ma prepared it all,” Nico brought your attention back to him, and you smiled. “And vegetarian pizza for you, Grace.”

You saw your best friend turn every shade of pink before she managed to say a little “thank you”. Adorable. You loved them a lot.

The doorbell rang again and you both moved out of the way so Nico could greet whoever was behind the door. Grace took you straight to the kitchen, talking about how she needed a beer.

“Did you know he was going to be here?” Grace asked as she reached for the bottle in the freezer.

“Who?” You played dumb, opening your own bottle.

She poker-faced you.

“You know damn well who, girl,” she closed the freezer and stood in front of you, on the other side of the counter.

You both looked at the living space and saw Jack sitting on the couch with the same girl from before. He didn’t seem to be particularly enjoying himself, but the girl certainly was.

“Yeah, I did. We talked this morning.” You shrugged.

“Does it bother you?”

You were ready to say no and move on with your night but even though it wouldn’t be a lie, it would still feel like one.

Jack wasn't your first fuck buddy, just the one who lasted longer, and that was probably why your head was all messy. Dating was certainly out of the question because of how traumatized you got by Harris, but what you had with Jack wasn’t just… sex.

At least not for you.

And you didn’t know Jack before, but you may or may not have looked him up online and you saw how long his dating list was. Literally, that guy had a mission and that mission was to fuck every Jerseywoman there is.

But he did seem to settle down when you guys started fucking a few months ago, so you never put much thought into it.

Until now, you guess.

“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly, because duh, that was Grace and she would know if you didn’t. “I don’t like it, that’s for sure.”

“It’s alright. More songs for you to write,” she joked and you smiled.

“You’re right.” You said, taking a long sip of beer.

You heard your name being called and you saw Nico in the living room, yelling your name. You chuckled and left the kitchen with Grace behind you. Greeting everyone— and, proudly! Not even looking at Jack twice!— you sat on the floor beside Trevor Zegras, cringing when he put his arms around you.

“How’s Dixie doing, Zegras?” You asked, and heard some people laughing.

Trevor frowned. “We broke up,” he said, like it was a well known fact. Hell, he had to be grateful you even know who Dixie was.

“Oh,” you started, smiling. “I did notice the streams of my break-up songs going up but I didn’t know it was you.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” He pouted like a baby, and everyone was laughing now. Even Jack. Not that you noticed or whatever.

“Ask me again in five years, I might say yes.”

The rest of the evening went well, the pizzas arrived, everyone ate and you were happy. Even if you had to watch every girl in there surrounding Jack like they wanted him to be their baby daddy.

You finished your fourth beer, feeling a little tipsy and desperate to pee. You excused yourself and went to the bathroom, silently complaining about how far it was from the rest of the house.

You found the huge upstairs bathroom— the downstairs one was occupied— and went on with your business. Washing your hands, you wondered why you were feeling so weird that evening. Why did the fact that Jack still talks to other girls bother you so much?

Hell if you knew the answer.

You opened the door, holding in a scream when you saw the man in front of you.

“What the fuck, Hughes?!” You angrily said, heart practically in your mouth.

“Sorry,” he whispered, smirking and not looking even the tiniest bit sorry for scaring you. He stepped closer and wrapped his warm, calloused hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “‘Needed you.” He mumbled, before locking your lips together.

As his sweet, pillowy lips brushed against yours, you couldn’t do anything but melt in his arms, putting yours around his neck, and standing on the tip of your toes so you could reach him.

It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last time he’d been inside you but it didn’t matter. Your panties were starting to feel sticky again and you felt yourself clenching around nothing, your insides already used to his thick dick.

He probably had the same idea as you, because he pushed you inside the bathroom again, locking the door behind him, without breaking the kiss.

“You’ll need to be quiet, okay, baby?” He whispered in your ear, turning you around until your hands were placed on the bathroom sink vanity, looking at him through the mirror. “We don't want anyone else hearing you, do we?”

You smirked, the alcohol making you a little braver. “I don’t have a problem with that. At all.”

He lifted your skirt and pulled your panties to the side. Oh, so this is how this is going to be.

“I don’t fucking share, Sophia.” He said through his teeth, taking his cock out, and you remembered to answer him before you started drooling.

“And you think I do?” You replied, thinking about all the girls downstairs, who would probably pay to be in your place right now.

He stared at you, eyes confused and mouth a little bit open. You pushed your ass back towards his crotch, wanting him to forget about your little slip up. You didn’t know where the possessiveness even came from but hell if you’d let him catch on it.

“Fuck, I didn’t bring a condom, and I know that Nico doesn’t have any here, he’s probably waiting until marriage or something.” He said, running his hands through his hair.

“You can…” you bit your lips, looking directly into his eyes. “You can come inside, I’m on birth control,” you whispered, knowing it was risky. You have never fucked anyone without protection before, and you knew it was probably extremely shitty and you would regret it in the morning but. Horny you didn’t think properly.

“Fuck. Are you sure?”

You saw his reflection in the mirror, his blue eyes dark and full of lust. You nodded once, and he shook his head too, spitting on his hand and spreading it on his dick. It wasn’t even needed with how wet you were, the possibility of getting caught at any time exciting you in ways you never thought possible.

He entered you in a quick, rough move, knowing that you didn’t have much time before someone— Grace or, fuck, even Nico himself— came looking for any of you.

It wasn’t his first time fucking you from behind but it was possibly the hottest one. Looking at him behind you, towering you with his body while you were bent over like some cheap whore did wonders for your horny thoughts.

You moaned loudly, knowing that you needed to be quiet but not really caring. This was too good to be silent.

Jack thought otherwise, though.

Without stopping pounding into you, he fisted your hair into a ponytail and pulled you, until your back was glued to his chest. He wrapped his other hand around your mouth, muffling your sounds, while fucking himself deeper into your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up, Sophia,” during sex, he only used your name whenever he was really pissed, and apparently this was one of those times. “Don’t need anyone hearing how much of a whore you actually are.”

You panted, tears forming in your eyes, but you knew you couldn’t shed a single tear. Your makeup would smudge and you would have to explain the fucked out look in your face.

Jack let go of your hair, using that hand to cover your mouth instead, while his right hand rubs on your clit, quick and precise. Your legs are one step closer to giving out so you gripped the counter like your life depended on it.

The sound of his hips meeting your ass was loud and you prayed to God that no one was behind the bathroom door because it would be obvious to anyone what was happening inside that bathroom, it smelled like sex and sweat.

“Fuck, uh, come for me, baby, c’mon,” Jack whispered, hands still on you, dick fucking you hard and rough, leaving your insides raw and deliciously hurting. “Come on my cock like the good girl you are.”

The praising, a rare occasion if you may add, did it for you, and you came on his cock, not fighting the tears anymore, and watching in the mirror as Jack bent you over the sink again, fucking you fast, using you, looking for his own release.

It was the first time you ever felt someone coming inside of you (your ex-boyfriend hated how messy it’d get), and fuck if that didn’t do something to your brain chemistry. It also did something to Jack, apparently, seeing how he couldn’t take his eyes off where you both were connected, watching as his cum dropped out of your used pussy as he removed his dick from you.

“Jesus fuck, Soph,” he breathed, and you chuckled, knowing exactly what he meant. Yeah, you thought, Jesus fuck. “You’re a fucking dream.”

You smiled, trying to regain your composure. “Do you think they noticed we were gone?”

He smirked, while grabbing a piece of paper and wetting it a bit, before wiping you. Oh. “‘Dunno. But they know we’re hooking-up so.” He shrugged.

“What do you mean they know?” You raised your body, looking at him surprised. You’d thought he hadn’t told anyone.

“I told them,” he frowned, probably misinterpreting your reaction. “What? Wasn’t I supposed to? I can tell them I was lying if that’s what you want.”

There it was, your heart doing a fucking hip hop choreography again.

Stop, you stupid thing.

“No, it’s fine, I just… I didn’t think you wanted them to know, that’s all.” You shrugged, putting your panties back on, feeling sticky and uncomfortable. He had cleaned you the best he could but there was still cum coming out of you.

“Are you kidding?” He laughed, putting his pants back on, trying his best to look normal too. “I couldn’t stand the guys talking about you whenever they saw you, so I just had to, you know, claim you I guess.”

You laughed at his choice of wording. What did that even mean?

“That’s such a playboy move, number eighty-six.” You rolled your eyes, trying to remove the stains of mascara under your eyes. “I don’t care that you’ve told them, really.”

When he was done fixing his shirt and jeans, he picked you up and made you sit on the counter, making you wince with how sensitive you were.

Then, he kissed you like he was making a statement. Gentle and subtle, but a statement nonetheless.

What he was trying to state, though, was a completely different question.

“Come on, pretty,” he whispered, against your lips. “I still want to beat Trevor’s ass in Mario Kart.”

You laughed, throwing your head back.

“Not if I beat him first.”

[theloveinc]

any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

-

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

[steddieas-shegoes]

a goddamn rockstar

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'eddie'

rated t | 912 words | cw: language | tags: side steddie, robin is also here, kinda just feels right to have these 6, new spicy 6 just dropped i guess

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie Munson was born to be a goddamn rockstar.

His mama told him before he could even hold a guitar: "You're gonna show this world what music is, string bean."

His Uncle Wayne told him when he was crying at her grave: "You're gonna sing for her, Ed."

Jeff's dad even looked at him in awe the first time he watched him play and said: "You've got what they look for, Eddie."

His guitar was an extension of him from the moment Wayne gave it to him, never out of sight if he could help it. Wayne would joke that it would melt to his hands in the heat of summer while he sat on the porch strumming through whatever song was on repeat in Eddie's mind.

He could play by ear, a gift that he was lucky to have since they couldn't afford lessons or those books at the record shop that showed actual music. A song would play on the radio or on Wayne's record player, and within two days, Eddie would be playing it like he wrote it himself.

Wayne would watch in awe, watching his fingers glide across the frets like it was as easy as breathing.

When he formed his band, he was clearly the guy who would lead them somewhere. Jeff, Frankie, and Gareth were talented, of course they were. He wouldn't have bothered with them if they weren't.

But they were doing this for fun, because they thought it would be cool to get to play on a stage, maybe have an audience beyond their parents and unwilling siblings and cousins.

Eddie was doing this because this was what his life was going to be. This was his future. His everything.

They practiced twice a week, they played at The Hideout every Tuesday, and then every Thursday when more than a few people bothered to show up. Wayne made sure to switch his days off so he could be there to "babysit", an agreement between the owner and him when he saw how young they were.

They competed in the school talent show, but didn't even place. It was rigged anyway. Only the popular kids ever won it.

They took a day trip to Indy for Gareth's 16th birthday, playing at a pop-up show for local bands. Not quite a Battle of the Bands, but still a fun time.

Nothing came of it except for Jeff finding a girlfriend who would break his heart a month later, but they were glad to have the experience.

It still wasn't enough for Eddie.

But it became irrelevant when hell tried to take him, and then when cops tried to after he barely made it out of that alive.

He owed everything to Nancy Wheeler and Hopper, though.

He'd make sure to dedicate his first album to them.

God, Hopper would hate that. He couldn't wait.

It took him three months to pick up his guitar again. His dexterity wasn't the best anymore, and his biggest worry was that he wouldn't be able to play at the level he'd been at before.

Steve convinced him, though. Shyly asked him if he knew any Blondie, and of course Eddie knew Blondie. So he played Blondie.

Steve kissed him after.

Eddie decided to add Blondie to their shows and Steve to the front row.

As soon as Gareth graduated, they went to Chicago, looking for opportunity.

All of them wanted it, but Eddie needed it.

Steve came with them, and so did Robin. Frankie tried to make a move on Robin, got told to lose his dick, and then they became good friends. They all shared a rented house in the suburbs, rundown and needing more work than any of them could possibly give it, but it was a roof over their heads.

They didn't get many gigs, and the ones they did were for free or barely enough to cover the cost of gas to get to them.

But they didn't stop trying.

The one thing that everyone always commented on was how Eddie was made for the stage.

Corroded Coffin got lucky. That's what anyone in the business would say.

They happened to be filling in for a band last minute at a festival. It wasn't even supposed to be metal music. But they toned down their sound for their set, focusing on rock hits that all of them enjoyed.

They put on a hell of a show.

And someone was watching, someone who could make something happen for them.

Within a month, they were recording a demo of their real sound for a label, including two original songs and two covers. Two months later, they were signing a contract that didn't completely suck and booking studio time.

It was almost too much at once. After wanting it for so long, Eddie thought maybe he wasn't actually supposed to be doing this.

It was long nights, longer days, and arguments he never thought he'd have with his closest friends and boyfriend. It was finding balance between his music and his family. It was not knowing if all of this would even pay off for them, for him.

But their album did better than even the label could have expected, better than any of them had dared hope. They were planning a tour. They had t-shirts that Eddie didn't have to make himself.

He had Steve with a VIP badge backstage every night.

Eddie Munson was a goddamn rockstar.

[itsallyscorner]

Maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two | H.S

pairing: boyfriend!Harry Styles x reader

summary: you unintentionally help Harry with a song he’s been struggling to write

warnings: a lil on the cheesy side tbh, but she’s cute. Mentions the pandemic

a/n: this was one from the drafts, originally written when Harry’s House was released and I finally got around to finishing it :)

Sometime during 2020 and the pandemic

His soft murmurs and humming were the only sounds that can be heard in his makeshift studio. The occasionally creaking of the house or him clicking his pen would break the silence from time to time. His frame was hunched over on the burnt orange colored couch, with his knees almost pressed against his chest, the couch was far too small for his tall figure. However, he liked the couch and it was comfy to lay on when he took breaks from writing. The journal he used to jot down lyrics was balanced on his left knee while his right hand scribbled words on the paper sloppily.

He had just gotten off a zoom call with Kid, Mitch, and some other members who he’s been working with for his new album. While they were supposed to be working in the studio for today’s session, one of the writers had come down with a cold. While it wasn’t confirmed to be COVID, Harry and his team decided it would be safe if everyone just isolated themselves for a while until further notice. Harry actually enjoyed the thought of working on the album at his home. He considered this to be one of the most intimate albums he’s ever made. The artist in him believed that being in the place where he’s comfortable being vulnerable would allow him to write more personal songs. Being home also allowed him to be closer to his muse—you.

The small claw clip holding his fringe from his face began to feel a bit too tight and his eyes were straining against the warm toned light to look at the page on his journal. He had been stuck on a certain verse for a while now and couldn’t bring himself to just call it a day on writing. He had been on the grind when he first started it, but all of a sudden his verses were turning into single words waiting to be properly knitted into a song. So far, some words/phrases he had were:

Wine glass

Puff pass

Side boob ;)

Cocaine

Toothache

Yellow sunglasses

They were the most random and absurd words to be grouped together, yet he knew he was going somewhere with whatever he had. His train of thought came to a halt when your voice rang through the room.

“Hey, you”

His eyes shifted towards your voice and there you were leaning against the door frame. You wore one of his old sweatshirts, which came up to your knees, and some socks on your feet. You weren’t wearing much but your presence and the soft smile gracing your features screamed comfort to him.

The slight frown on Harry’s face turned into a smile that resembled yours. Pushing off of the door frame, you slowly approached Harry’s spot on the couch.

“Hi angel.” He greeted you, spreading his legs out to make space for you. You happily make your way in between his legs and settle on the floor. You crossed your legs and sat so you were looking up at him. Harry craned his neck to place a kiss on your temple, his lips continuing to move down your face to spread little kisses all over your face. When he got to your lips he placed a soft peck on them with a smile on his own pinkish lips.

“Hope you don’t mind me bothering you.” You tease, the sweet smile still on your face. Harry scoffs playfully, “Y’never a bother to me. I missed you today, what’ve y’been up to?”

He’s been in the “studio” since the morning, having a quick breakfast with you and immediately hopping on zoom to work with his team. It was now 6pm and you couldn’t recall seeing or hearing your boyfriend leave the room throughout the day for a break or a snack—which led to you checking in on him.

“Not much, finished up some things for work and caught up on some Love Island.” You shrugged, Harry rolling his eyes jokingly at the mention of the reality tv show. “How ‘bout you? Was today’s session successful?” You ask. Harry hums, reaching for his journal.

“S’half ‘n half. We finished that track we wrote last month—don’t know if y’remember it—but it turned out really great. I have a good feeling ‘bout it once it’s out.” He began while still flipping back to the page he last wrote on. “I started writing another, b’now I’m just stuck. M’brain feels like it can’t think of anything else, s’blank.” He ranted using his hands to express his emotions. You let out a chuckle as you avoid one of his large hands waving around from hitting your face.

“Maybe it’s time for you to take a break, H. You’ve been here all day, god knows how long you’ve been slouched on this couch.” For emphasis, you nudge said couch, Harry shooting you a look.

“S’not a bad couch, leave m’couch alone.” He pouts, silently agreeing that it was definitely time for a break. You duck out of his arms and get up, walking towards the door. Harry follows, moving to get up but halts his movements when a crack comes from his back. You swiftly turn around with your eyes wide and an amused look.

“Oi m’back!” Harry exclaimed in shock. He stood there for second before making eye contact with you. The two of you burst out laughing.

“I fucking told you!” You pointed at him, only to be gently pushed out the door by Harry who was muttering for you to “shuddup”.

Despite the two of you being home, Harry linked his fingers with yours while you both walked to the kitchen. His large hand engulfed yours, his rough thumb stroking the top of your hand.

“I’m actually hungry.” Harry thought aloud once the kitchen came to view. He was wondering what he should eat, deciding between leftovers, cooking, or ordering in. However, he let out a gasp when he saw food already on the table.

He turned around to you beaming, “Y’made my favorite!” On the dining table were pancakes, hash browns, eggs, and coffee. Even though he was eating healthier, Harry believed that one can never go wrong with breakfast for dinner. The main reason why he loved it was because of a memory you both shared during the early stages of your relationship.

The two of you had overslept at his house after movie night and skipped dinner. By the time you both woke up, everything was closed. So the two of you ended up rummaging through his kitchen only to find eggs, pancake mix, frozen hash browns, and coffee. Harry loved that night so much because it was the moment you two truly got to know each other more and connected. It was like finally breaking the barrier of whatever was holding you back from one another. Till this day he remembers the sleepy haze behind your eyes as you shared stories from your past. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes and your hair was a mess, but none of that mattered because he thought you were beautiful either way. Ever since that night, the two of you would have breakfast for dinner as a staple in your household.

While Harry piled two plates with eggs, pancakes, and hash browns, you filled up two mugs with coffee. Harry liked his black, while you liked yours with a bit of cream and sugar. The two of you settled in the living room, ditching the dining table because it just wasn’t comfy enough. You smiled down at your plate—which had maple syrup dripping down a tower of pancakes—as Harry picked a record to put on. Call it old school, but it was one of the normal things keeping you sane during this lockdown. He had chosen one of his Elvis ones. The same one he played that first night you had breakfast for dinner.

You sat across each other on the couch, feet nuzzled together and your knees bumping alongside the other. The sound of your forks and knives scratching against the plate filled the room along with Elvis’s voice on the record player.

Harry had forgotten he had been writing the entire day. Instead, he remembered all the places you traveled to and the memories you made together on those trips. Being stuck at home for months made the both of you crave the outside world and the normality of it all. Though as much as you wanted to book a trip to Italy, it wasn’t safe to leave the country.

It felt like the world was ending, but to Harry it didn’t feel like it because he was with you. You brought light to the darkness—yes, it was cheesy—but it was the only way Harry knew how to describe being with you.

You guys spent the night eating and reminiscing on past memories you made together. As the hours passed, your plates were now empty and on the coffee counter, while you had found your way into your lover’s arms. His arms held you close to him as your body rested perfectly against his. Your head laid upon his chest, allowing you to feel him breathe and hear the beating of his heart. You were surrounded by his warmth and it was truly all you ever wanted.

Harry could feel you dozing off, your sentences had gotten shorter and your voice had a slight slur. With his nose against your temple he whispered, “Y’know I’ll always love you, right?”

You shifted your head to look into his dark emerald eyes, “Yeah.”

His eyes squinted at you playfully, “How so?” He tested you.

“Because I know I’ll always love you too.”

Then just like that, a spark set off in his head, and all of a sudden the words he has jotted down earlier that day made sense.

[thepowerofswayze]

hard launch

pairing: schlatt / musician!reader

word count: 1.4K

warnings & info: rpf, no beta, there are nicknames like "doll" and "angel" because i am not immune to the stereotypical new yorker

summary: You and Schlatt had kept your relationship pretty low profile so far. Now that the cat was basically halfway out of the bag, though, there was no real reason to try and stuff it back in.

☆

The lights were blinding, hot as the sun from where you were standing center stage. You were sweating harder than you thought you ever had, your arms heavy, your chest heaving- and it’s just another night on tour.

You’d had tours before, but this was the North American leg of your first ever world tour. The crowd was bigger than you were used to. You’d blown up in the last year or so, slowly gaining traction and listeners. Once your second album dropped? Everyone knew your name, and every show was sold out.

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you sang through your number one hit, the dancers behind you completing a choreography that you could all do in your sleep at this point. Yes, you were tired, but you were also exhilarated. Nothing beat this, hearing more people than you could count singing songs you wrote back at you, just as enthusiastic as you. The song ended with a sustained belt from you, a fist punched in the air as the lights dropped and left you and your dancers in silhouette.

The crowd roared, and you took the moment in the dark to look up at the VIP box, even though you’d been glancing at it the entire performance and you thought you knew exactly what you’d see. Surprisingly, it was empty now, and you had half a mind to wonder where the inhabitants had gone.

You couldn’t linger for long, though, as a click played in your in-ear and you brought your mic down to your lips. One light came on and trained on you as you shouted, “LA!” The crowd thundered in response, cheers threatening to deafen you were it not for the protection of your ear pieces. “You’ve been a lovely crowd. I love you guys so much! Get home safe! Goodnight!” You winked at a face in the crowd, waved at a couple others, then turned on your heel and ran off stage.

Just past the curtains, you slowed to a walk, pulling out your in-ears and handing off your microphone and some props, thanking the assistant that took them from you. You barely caught your breath before you glanced up and saw him- Schlatt. Your boyfriend. Waiting for you backstage. The smile that split your face was mirrored on his, and you took off running.

His arms opened, catching you and sweeping you off your feet, spinning and laughing. You burrowed your head in the side of his neck, grinning so hard it hurt. When he lowered you to the ground, you looked up at him. “Hi.”

Schlatt grinned back at you. “Hey, doll. I thought I’d surprise you back here. Had to pester Julia ‘bout it.”

You turned around and caught the eye of your assistant manager, Julia, who immediately pretended to be busy with her clipboard- a soft smile stayed on her face, though. You made a note to annoyingly smother her with thanks later, then looked back at Schlatt. “I saw that the VIP box was empty at the end- I thought you just dipped early.”

Schlatt scoffed, comedic offense on his face, brows furrowed. “And miss the end of my stupidly talented girlfriend's first show on her first ever sold out tour? To what, get to my car before traffic picks up? Fat chance, baby.”

You giggled, pulling him down for a kiss by the back of his neck.

When Julia cleared her throat behind you, still not looking up but instead scribbling away, you sighed and untangled from Schlatt, ignoring his mock pout and opting to hold his hand instead. You knew your assistant manager was signaling that you needed to change out so they could get all your things stored and ready to leave in the morning. After you changed, you’d have the whole night to yourself.

“What are you doing now?” You asked Schlatt, tilting your head as you led him further backstage and down a hallway. “Hungry?”

Schlatt grinned. Even looking straight ahead, you could feel his expression, his raised eyebrows. “What, y’askin me on a date?”

All you could do was snicker as you pushed open your dressing room door, dragging him inside with you, telling him to shut up and help you take everything off. He eagerly obliged.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The diner you picked wasn’t too busy- it was late enough and far away enough from the concert arena that you weren’t really afraid of getting recognized and mobbed. Besides, you’d changed into a disguise of a sweatsuit and a baseball cap. Schlatt grinned and let you know that your disguise was actually so stereotypical it was a light up billboard. You poked him every time someone walked past you, blissfully unaware of who you were, and gave him a smug smirk.

You and Schlatt split a (huge) margarita and each got a meal, sitting on the same side of a booth so you could lean on him. He kept an arm wrapped around your shoulders at every possible moment. You listened to how the podcast was going, he listened as you detailed rehearsal and promised to send him pictures of your trailer. You promised to facetime whenever you could- you’d been away for shows before, but you hadn’t had a tour since you started dating a couple months ago. You were going to miss him, and by the way he kept pressing little kisses to the top of your head, you could guess that he’d miss you, too.

When both of your meals were finished (and you’d stolen enough fries off Schlatt’s plate), you laid your head on Schlatt’s shoulder and pulled out your phone, going through tik toks you’d been tagged in from that night's concert. You left comments on a few and reposted others, sometimes asking for Schlatt’s input on what to say, sometimes snorting and rolling your eyes at his responses.

You came across a video from the end of the night- it started with you yelling “LA!”, the crowd screaming, and then your goodbye. It didn’t end there, though- as you jogged off stage, the camera panned and followed, showing you handing off your microphone and props. The footage was a little grainy, but you could definitely make out Schlatt watching you, then the moment you saw him waiting. A toothy grin overtook your face right before you broke into a sprint and launched into his arms. The video ended with him spinning you, your laugh silent but clearly visible before you hid your face in his neck, and the video looped.

You lifted your head off Schlatt’s shoulder, turning to look at him. A beat passed, and the both of you broke into slow, goofy smiles.

“Looks like they got us, huh, angel?” Said Schlatt. He didn’t look at all upset about it- in fact, he looked pretty excited.

Truthfully, you didn’t hate it either. The two of you had been staying cautious, but your fans knew you were seeing someone, and so did his. With how big you both were in your respective careers, you didn’t want the pressure to blow this thing you had before it even really started. But it had been a little over six months. He’d asked you to officially be his girlfriend. You’d told him you loved him, and he’d said it back. And now, your fans found out in the cutest possible way.

You hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to Schlatt’s cheek. You leaned back into Schlatt, typing up a comment on the tik tok (“whoops.”- it made Schlatt snort), then opening up the instagram camera.

The photo was sickeningly sweet- your hat was off and Schlatt’s chin rested atop your head, a goofy smile on his face and your face scrunched in a wink and a grin. You added a smiley emoticon and a heart, and part of a song that reminded you of him, then posted it to your story.

Almost immediately, your inbox was flooded with replies, but you just turned off your phone for a moment. You turned to face Schlatt. “I’m really glad I can do that now. It feels nice.”

He hummed, smirking as he raked his eyes over you. “Me, too. I’m about to make everyone sick of how much I’ll talk about you.” You giggled, and his hands dropped to your waist as you gave him a proper kiss- sufficiently distracting him so you could grab another fry.

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 6

Part 5

Come for the sugar daddy fantasy stay for my everybody-loves-steve agenda

Eddie insisted on helping Steve with his suit the night of the soiree. Steve allowed him into his apartment for the first time, after some extensive cleaning. Eddie was already dressed in his suit, red, no shirt underneath. He took the garment bag from Eddie, kissed his lips, and then went to his bedroom. Eddie got a glimpse of his nest before the door was shut.

"Uhh? Baby?"

"No peeking", Steve said from behind the door.

"Babyyyy", Eddie whined, pressing his face to the wood.

Steve grinned to himself as he listened, getting dressed on his own anyway. "I don't want to be late. And if I let you 'help' that's exactly what will happen."

It wasn't just what Eddie would do. It was what Steve would let him get away with. It would be very easy to let Eddie in and then tumble in his nest. The thought of letting Eddie's scent mix in... Steve wondered if he could get away with sneaking a piece of his clothing away. But Eddie had promised him a fun night out and said he'd be meeting his bandmates as well.

He finished getting dressed and came out. Eddie stumbled, being nearly glued to the door. Steve almost made a joke about falling for him.

"You gonna be this attached to me all night?", he asked instead.

Eddie righted himself and stood up straight. "If I let you out of my sight, the wolves will descend on you Lil Red."

Steve put his hands on Eddie's chest and leaned in. "Good thing I've got a big, strong woodsman to keep me safe~"

Since it was a band event, Eddie had a personal driver this time. That meant he could sit in the backseat and play with Steve the whole way. Eddie's hand was firm on Steve's thigh while the other held his hip. He'd wanted to bury them in Steve's tresses but one firm tap and reprimand 'don't touch the hair' and here they were.

Eddie was nibbling on Steve's neck, wishing he could put something more permanent on him. Let others know who he belonged to. When they arrived, Steve took a moment to get himself together. Eddie thought he looked just as radiant now as he did with sex-tousled hair but he liked seeing his baby primp too.

Eddie led him, arm in arm, into a nightclub. The music was energetic but didn't really seem to fit with Eddie's usual metal scene. Steve had done some research on the band, listened to a few songs, learned the other members names too. So even through the blaring music, he was able to understand when Eddie brought them over to a reserved table where the rest of them awaited.

"So this is the guy?", Jeff asked.

"This must be the guy", Gareth nodded.

"Can't be anyone else but the guy", Grant raised his glass to Steve.

Steve smiled at Eddie. "You've been telling them about me?"

"You're a secret I don't wanna keep, babydoll", Eddie smiled back.

"DJ here is mixing a set around one of our albums", Jeff said. "Kind of a little promotion for us. And when we share the video, he'll get a bump too."

"I thought this was a little out of the box for your sound", Steve said.

"You listen to our music?", Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged, playing it off. "I've dabbled." He leaned into Eddie's space to take a sip from the drink in his hand. "What about you? Do you dabble in this?"

"Not quite my scene, no. I'm an appreciator of most genres though."

"Can we finally break the silence on Eddie's jazz phase?", Gareth said.

"What's wrong with jazz?", Steve asked.

"Music was fine", Grant clarified, "He just got super pretentious about the different subgenres."

"He was insufferable", Gareth added.

"What about you guys, then?", Steve pointed the question to them. "Are you into this kind of music?"

"It's something to dance to", Jeff replied.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Care to dance?", Steve asked.

Jeff gave a look to Eddie, asking permission. Amused, Steve also looked to Eddie for his response. Eddie's arm had been wrapped rather possessively around him for most of the night, so he could feel how antsy Steve was getting. Eddie gave his hip a pat.

"Go have fun."

Steve kissed his cheek and then went down to the dance floor with Jeff. He loved to move and he'd been itching to dance all night, but Eddie didn't seem like a dancer, at least not to this kind of music. And he wasn't about to just go out and dance with someone random in the club. Jeff was the perfect partner, knowing when to be close and when to give him space.

He felt a finger tap his shoulder and when he turned, Grant was there. Following the beat of the music, Steve gave him his attention. He was able to catch Eddie's eyes just once and saw the hunger in his eyes. When Gareth came to dance, he was a little more hesitant to touch Steve until Steve himself pulled Gareth's hands to him.

The way they all touched him was polite but there was an underlying desire. They were showing appreciation, but they weren't going to challenge the pseudo-claim Eddie had on him. He caught Eddie's gaze again and it was darker this time. He began to walk off the dance floor, ignoring a few calls from voices he didn't recognize.

Steve returned to Eddie and straddled his lap. "Sure I can't tempt you to dance?"

"There's not a thing you can't tempt me into, sweetheart. But you'll have to give me something dance-able. Liked seein' you have fun though. My boys take care of you?"

"Mhm, they were very gentlemanly." Steve's hand dipped under Eddie's suit jacket, needing skin to skin contact.

"Music to my ears", Eddie said against Steve's lips before meeting them. He growled against his mouth as he was able to detect the scents of his friends on him. Steve was pack. Steve was his.

Eddie practically dragged him out of the club and back into the car. The door was barely closed before Steve was in his lap again. He was writhing, probably very close to ruining the nice suit pants.

"Come with me", Eddie breathed.

"Yes, Daddy", Steve moaned into his ear.

"No I mean, on tour. Come with me on tour baby."

Steve paused in his humping to look in Eddie's eyes. "You want me along for the ride?"

Eddie nodded, eyes wide and big as if there was ever a chance that Steve would say no. But he also couldn't just say yes.

"For how long?"

Eddie licked his lips. "Two months."

"My job..."

"I'll take care of anything you need", Eddie said quickly.

"My apartment-"

"I'll handle it, baby. Just please say you'll come."

Steve's head tilted to the side. Robin's words echoed in his head. Wasn't this the scenario he'd been running from? An alpha having control over his life? If for even a moment, Eddie changed his mind about him, he'd be out a job and a home. Steve looked back down at him and that was his undoing.

"I'll need a new suitcase, and wardrobe, and-"

"Done, done, and whatever else you can think of, it's done." Eddie kissed him in elation, much sweeter than anything else they'd done all night.

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

Steve at least tried to sell the whole 'can I bounce for two months and come back later' at his job but obviously that didn't fly. It was fine. It wasn't really the work or even the miniscule paycheck he was attached to. It was simply the comfort of doing the same thing in the same place every day. He could fill out applications on the road and get the same job anywhere.

True to his word, Eddie took him out shopping just a couple of days later.

"I meant to tell you", Eddie said as they walked through the mall. He was dressed very casually in jeans and a t-shirt under a vest with the band's logo on the back. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he kept his shades on inside. "That lunch meeting with sushi? Went pretty good. Your advice worked."

"You sound surprised", Steve teased. He was wearing a green sweater and light jeans.

"Not surprised, beautiful. Just in awe." Eddie put an arm around him as he led him into the first store.

Just like at the tailor's Eddie let Steve loose, letting him pick and choose what he wanted. After the third store, Steve was looking at him hesitantly.

"You're really going to spoil me. Going to turn me into a brat and anything."

"What? You? My sweet angel babydoll? Never", Eddie smirked. "You're acting like no one's ever lavished you like this."

Steve shrugged. "Well, not like this but-", then he thought better of it. "Never mind."

"I don't think so, baby. I think I deserve at least one story of past-Steve. You got to google search my life story."

"How do you know I didn't ask Jeeves?"

Eddie put a hand to his heart, then took his hat off like a sign of respect. "RIP to a real one. But you're not gonna distract me, Stevie. I feel like you've been keeping something from me. Not something big, just something you don't think I should know."

Breaking his gaze from Eddie's, Steve spied a restaurant inside the mall. "Let's eat."

Eddie had them get a booth in the back, figuring Steve would want some modicum of privacy for this. He wasn't expecting a bombshell, but he figured it must mean something to Steve.

"So, when you met me, you probably thought I was this... downtrodden, poor omega with nowhere to go." That rainy night seemed so long ago.

"That's not what I thought at all", Eddie said with a shake of his head. "Honestly thought you were waiting for someone. Made no sense to me that you were all alone."

Steve smiled. "Well, I wasn't always alone. Not physically, at least. My parents are Layton and Margaret Harrington. They've got a hand in a lot of things but most of our money comes from apple orchards of all things."

"So you're the heir to a vast apple fortune", Eddie surmised.

"Was the heir to a vast fortune."

"Is there a story behind that?", Eddie asked, watching Steve pick at his food.

"Not an original one", Steve said with a chuckle. "They paraded the alpha sons of their associates. I was also paraded. I was offered a life where all I had to do was look nice and speak little and eventually bring up the next generation of whatever old money family my parents chose for me... It was suffocating."

Eddie's leg stuck out from under the table and rubbed against his. "You got your own place. And your own job. You got out. Why would you keep this from me though? Doesn't sound particularly scandalous."

"I don't know", Steve shook his head. "Maybe I didn't want you to think I was a gold digger, or maybe I didn't want you to think I had super high expectations, or-it just felt like I shouldn't tell you. I'm tired of carrying my parents around."

"They're really that loaded?"

"Didn't you hear me say 'old money'?"

"Is there some scorned ex-fiance I should be worried about?"

"Hmmmnope."

"You sure about that, sweetness?"

"I'm sure. None of them are looking for me. And none of them hold a candle to you."

Eddie could understand wanting to leave the past in the past. After eating, they continued their shopping spree. Eddie paused at a costume shop that showed a few of the outfits on mannequins in the window. Steve followed his line of sight and grinned.

"Gimme your card."

"Sure, what for?", Eddie asked as he handed it over to Steve.

"For a surprise. Go get a pretzel. I'll text you when I'm ready." He kissed Eddie's cheek and then went into the costume shop.

Whipped like cream, Eddie did in fact go get a pretzel, fantasizing about all the little outfits Steve could be buying right now. When they met up, he wasn't allowed to peek. So while he knew there must be a costume of some kind in Steve's wardrobe now, he was oblivious to the lingerie he'd bought as well.

Part 7

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