#it was absolutely the right move to still go to the gig after

[eroticcannibal]

Ideas on stopping things becoming full blown triggers?

[setsugekka]

❥get you alone (m)

↳ In which your new job as the company financial advisor makes one thing loud and clear: the no dating the talent policy is one that is quite frequently disregarded.

bang chan x fem!reader — coworkers to lovers, idolverse, forbidden romance, explicit sexual content. [6k wc] cws: alcohol consumption, penetrative sex (unprotected), creampie, rough sex, Chan wants it bad-bad, Bang Chan has a Big Dick.

Starting the new job in the summer would be good.

This is what you told yourself when you begrudgingly hauled all of your belongings across Seoul in the blazing heat, for a move that took all of fourteen hours – from start to finish, and even with the help of some friends. It didn’t feel like it would be good then, but you had to hold onto the self-imposed reassurance that it would eventually be good. Autumn was right around the corner, after all, and a shiny new loft apartment in an excellent spot in town was hard to say 'no’ to, especially given the salary increase you were taking on to top it all off.

Your friends constantly prodded you with jokes the whole day about how lucky you were – to be working alongside idols. You insisted that this were hardly the case as someone working in finance of all things. Not exactly the glitz and the glam of microphones and high heels. You insisted that the chances of you meeting anyone all too often were slim to none, much to their displeasure.

You wanted that to be true. You genuinely thought it would be.

After all, that was the case at the previous companies you worked for as a temp financial advisor – you didn’t see much of anyone that had been on television. You could count the times you had run into someone famous in the hallways of your work place on one hand, and it was always simply in passing. Nothing exciting. Nothing to report. Taking on a full-time gig at JYPE – you had no reason to assume any different.

Three days into the job, you finally feel a bit settled in. Papers, pens, and comforting knick-knacks just in all of the right places on your desk – it’s a sign of a newbie for sure – someone not quite yet frazzled by the whirlwind of what the job would entail. Seated a bit in the back of the large office room, you hear the door open and the woman at the front most desk sighing exasperatedly – cautioning something about how someone can’t be here, but from the tone of her voice, it sounds as if this is not the first, second, or even third time she’s said the same – and only for it to fall upon deaf ears just as it seemingly had today.

“I just need to talk about the budget for the video,” you hear coming towards you – and you can’t see him yet, but you can hear him getting closer, accompanied by the sounds of other financial workers in the office shuffling about in an attempt to remedy the situation.

The situation?

“We have people for that, you don’t need to come and do it yourself!” the woman from the front nearly yells, but by that time, the man has just about reached your desk – and you’re a little worried about what it is that you might have to deal with right about now. What sort of absolutely nuts, disgruntled, higher-up is coming for your head already about a project that you’re not even filled in on yet?

“Yeah, but I like to do it my—”

The stranger reaches your desk finally, popping his head around the side of your cubicle wall to find something that apparently must be surprising to him, as it cuts his thought process off in an instant. You watch his brows furrow in confusion – not necessarily anger – but more so that he wasn’t expecting to find the sight he had found. His head cocks to the side suddenly, and he pulls himself into your field of vision entirely, still visibly confused by the fact that he’s looking at you.

“Y-yes?” you stutter out, completely frozen in place with uncertainty about what the complete fuck is going on right now in this office.

“Oh!” he exclaims, realizing now that the entire scenario is obviously absolutely bizarre to you. “Sorry, umm, so I guess the other woman doesn’t work here anymore?”

“Suppose…not.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure you can help me—”

But the woman from the front of the office finally makes her way to the back where the both of you reside. The mans face dropping and beginning to take on that of a childs who knows he’s about to get reprimanded.

“You don’t have to answer to him,” she says to you, but also sort of speaking to him as well. “Despite what they’d have you think, the idols don’t actually run things here. We have a particular way of doing things and Chris absolutely loves ignoring that.”

…The idols?

It hadn’t crossed your mind before, albeit, a lot was going on, but since the I-word had been mentioned now, a lot of things were beginning to come together now. He is quite good looking, and given how revealing his tank top is – appears to work out, as well. Nice skin, beautiful smile…a little short, but that’s okay.

“I’m just a guy!” the man you have now learned is named Chris retorts as the woman takes her leave, and he turns back to face you again, leaning his arm up against the wall next to you, “what’s a guy gotta do to get treated like a guy around here?”

“Probably not be famous,” you respond in sort of a half-giggle, trying to restrain the smile from your lips as you turn back towards your computer to finish inputting some data. “But if you need something, I’ll be happy to look into it. You came all this way after all.”

Chris catches the way sarcasm drips from your last few words and rolls his eyes, gently tossing the stack of papers he came in with onto a empty spot of your desk.

“Are you going to treat me like this now, too? The new girl already tainted, how tragic.”

“You asked, I gave you a legitimate answer as to why.”

“Mm, fair,” he nods, pushing his bottom lip out for a moment as he considers the fact – then quickly finds himself along a separate path of thought. “So, what’s your name?”

You tell him, he responds that it’s pretty. You find that more than a little bit annoying, given your awareness of the incredibly strict 'no dating’ policy among office workers in JYPE, and even more strict 'no dating the talent’ policy – one that lands your contract terminated if they so much as even suspect that you’re engaging in unsavory behavior with any one of the idols under their label.

Chris lingers about a bit longer before you finally look towards him again and tell him that you’ll take a look at the paperwork the next chance you get, which, despite not directly telling him to leave you alone, he does manage to take the hint and bids you farewell, that it was nice to meet you, and that he looks forward to your next meeting…to which the woman from up front once again responds, “you shouldn’t be in here!”

You think about this story often now – the story of how you and Chan met. It seems so cute and casual now, like a story that two children would tell about how they met on the playground because the little boy pushed the little girl into the sandbox…except now they’re thirty-five and married with three wonderful children. It only feels that way in essence, though, because while yes – your relationship with Chan was far from married with children, it wasn’t zero.

And that was a problem. Ironically, mostly for you, it seemed.

As the months carried on, Chan did indeed continue coming to your desk for all of his financial needs instead of going through the appointed channels put in place by the company. He eventually tells you that he does it this way because he feels more comfortable doing it himself – he knows who did it, and when, and whether it got done or not. He knows all of the steps, so if anything goes wrong, he knows exactly how and why. Easier to fix. It makes sense, of course, until the few times you have to call him for some unsigned documents and he tells you to come meet him in the studio, or the practice room, or even at the dorm.

It’s not okay, and the both of you know that. You find yourself very quickly sneaking around – hoping not to be seen on your way to your secret rendezvous with Chan – and not even for that. But certainly, that’s what everyone would think if they were to know.

You kind of wished it were the case, too.

And there had been a few nights where things got a little strange. A little out of line. Chan was a flirt, and you wanted to be flirted with by him. The occasional hand grabbing, or his hand placed at the small of your back as he passes behind you, lingering a little bit longer each time he does it – but nothing overt. If you were honest, you weren’t quite sure if chan was into you or not. He was never entirely clear about his intentions. While financials and paperwork had obviously, at times, fallen to the wayside and perhaps simply been an excuse to get you into the same room as him, he had never made a move, and never said anything that would indicate a completely inappropriate and – by work standards – illegal romance between the two of you.

That didn’t necessarily stop you from desiring it, though.

It took nearly a year before the wall showed a crack. The impenetrable Bang Chan.

“Can you come to the cafeteria with it? I’m trying to have dinner before I get back to work.”

You roll your eyes, shoulder and face craned to hold the phone in place as you type on the computer in front of you and sigh upon finding the time – already much later than when you were supposed to be out of the office and also well over your allotted overtime for the month.

But, it was Chan, and yeah, you were a bit soft for him and the few quiet moments you got to spend around him. Even if they didn’t mean anything. Even if they never would. A guilty pleasure – partaking in all of the things that you shouldn’t.

When you arrive, much to your surprise – Chan is the only one there. Being well past office working hours, it was prime time for idol working, and you think that you’ve never seen the place so empty before – although, if you were honest, you didn’t spend much time there, either.

Chan waves you over to his table, well into eating a bowl of mild cup ramen as you sit just ahead of him and place the stack of papers on the end of it. You take a moment to look around at the scenery – which perhaps isn’t much to him, but for a moment, it makes you consider what it must be like. To live life as an idol.

The man in front of you manages to mumble out a 'thanks’ in between eating and you assure him it’s no problem. In a moment of his looking away from you, you take in for a moment his features a bit more intricately. The bags under his eyes from restless nights and messy hair – the gray hoodie adorning him looking potentially slept in from the night before – and it’s a little charming. You know next to nothing about this man, but if there’s one thing you know, it’s that he works hard. Tirelessly. Selflessly. For the group of men he lovingly refers to as “the kids”.

“Can I ask you something? And you don’t have to answer if it’s too personal or anything,” you start suddenly, placing your chin in your palm and elbow on the table as you look across towards him. He stops eating, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively and hurries his chewing so that he can assess the question faster.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Well, or boyfriend, I guess, didn’t mean to assume anything—”

And Chan snorts, looking down towards the table and grinning – and for a moment you could swear that he almost looks…embarrassed. Sheepish. Shy.

“No,” he says, ever so slightly shaking his head in response as well before looking up at you through his eyelashes, and it’s truly as if he’s self-conscious about the fact. “No I do not. Kind of hard to meet someone in this line of work.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little taken aback – both by the fact that he answered the question at all, and by – well, everything else about the interaction.

“Surely that can’t be true, you’re surrounded by beautiful people everywhere.”

“You see, the thing about being surrounded by beautiful women,” Chan starts, shoveling some more noodles in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before finishing his thought, “is that they are also surrounded by beautiful men.”

The implication of his response sound insane to you. Is he really implying that he’s…not?

But Chan doesn’t give you time you think it out much further, starting up another thought. “The truth of the matter is that I’m just too busy,” he says, wiping his face and hands with a napkin, crumpling it, and placing it on the tray in front of him before sliding it just out of the way of your conversation.

“Most days I work about fourteen, maybe sixteen hours? And that’s everything: any filming, recording, then there’s the producing I do as well, plus I’m on the business end of a lot of the things that we get to do, and then when I come home I’m still sort of dad even though they are, of course, plenty capable of doing things for themselves, but it’s just the position I’ve taken on within the group…I don’t have the kind of time someone would deserve, y'know?”

“Yeah,” you respond fast enough to show acknowledgment, but his words run through your mind for much longer than that. A man that takes on so much more than the average idol.

You’d have been lying if you said you didn’t think he was sexier now. That’s a problem. Especially because the next question out of your mouth is extremely self-indulgent, and perhaps even gives you away.

A woman of stronger might may have been able to avert the trajectory of this scenario. That woman was not you.

“You don’t even have anyone you like…just, see?”

Chan looks up at you slowly now, eyebrows tensed slightly together – and it’s not anger, but curiosity to match your own. It’s sort of a playful smile that purses across his lips as you watch the thoughts bounce around his head in real time – holding your facial expression perfectly as to not give even more away than you already had. He has to be the one to speak next or it’s doomed.

“What do you mean?”

Fuck.

It’s not what you wanted, because now you have to speak more. It’s not even like you’re offering, or extending the invitation as it were, you’re just…curious. Innocently curious. Completely innocently curious about where his dick has been lately.

“Like, a friend…with benefits? I guess?”

The man in front of you holds fast, continuing to stare at you for a moment before cracking up a bit again and shaking his head just as he had the first time you asked him something that, to him, is completely absurd.

“No,” and you watch as he cocks his head to the side suddenly and smiles an awkward smile into the table – knowing that he’s about to admit something even more humiliating than he already had. “It’s been quite a long time since anything like that.”

Oh, now you’re really intrigued. So much so that the allure of playing coy is completely thrown out of the window. You have to know everything, and now.

“Oh my God, how long?” you ask quickly, jutting yourself forward toward him as if he’s some sort of exhibit on display for your viewing pleasure, and he pulls back suddenly, still laughing, but obviously absolutely beside himself in sheepishness. 

“Oh come on, really? Is it that hard to believe?”

“What!? Yes! Of course it is!”

“Why?”

“Because look at—”

It’s in that moment that you consider that this entire situation was a set up from the beginning, and not on your end. A sudden realization that all of the upper-hand you had thought that you had, never really existed at all. Had…Chan been playing you this whole time?

Chan sits back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and looks away with a smile, still shy, but obviously amused by the turn the situation had taken. Maybe it wasn’t a set up. Maybe it was just a happy little mistake.

“About three years, I just have other stuff going on, that’s all,” he finally responds to the originally intended question – before the derailment of what’s and why’s.

You choose not to respond, having already given far too much of yourself away to the discussion.

When Moa from the creative direction department celebrates her 10th year with the company, the higher-ups green light a huge party for it, citing her relentless contributions, hard work and loyalty. It’s your first time attending one of these anniversary parties, but you’re assured that most of them are not like this.

It’s one of the few times that the idols and the office workers mingle much. Given Moa’s direct work with the talent in particular, it’s expected for them to be invited to such a gathering, and despite it taking place at the company building, dress code is (not so) strictly enforced and everyone is told to “dress nice,” a guideline that works better for some than for others. If honest, not even you are particularly sure what this means – stuck somewhere between completely formal and business-casual, you simply decide on the latter…more or less. Something similar to the usual just above the knee length dress you would wear to work, but more casual, and a blouse with a bit more sheer to it.

When you get back to the building, it’s well past typical closing hours but the sound of a party is easily heard from even the lowest level. Nine floors up, the elevator dings and you step out with a bottle of wine in one hand and your bag in another – plus your eye out for Chan, of course.

And that makes you feel a little bit silly, yes, because this being an after hours party doesn’t make the company policies any more suspended. They are still very much in place.

But still, the joys of flirting aren’t to be ignored, and no one better to do it with than him.

When you step in, you quickly notice a few of the twice ladies there – beautiful girls, glowing from all of the way across the room, and Chan standing with two of them in particular, looking especially cozy – and you do your best to ignore the ping of pain in your chest that you know without a doubt does not belong there. Chan looks over and makes eye contact with you and you both nod a silent hello, before making your way over to your colleague, and the table in which you are to leave your offering of wine.

It’s rather quick, much quicker than expected, that Chan catches up with you – as you’ve barely had time to say hello to Moa before he’s placing that sly hand on the small of your back and greeting the both of you. You watch the look on your colleagues face switch to one of confusion – wondering why one of the idols is getting so handsy with you, but she simply smiles and thanks you for coming.

You suspect in that moment, that the 'no dating the talent’ policy is one that is frequently disregarded.

The black haired man to your side pours you a drink, then pouring himself, and you take notice of the way he’s dressed for the occasion – just a nice button down shirt and some nicely fitted jeans – nothing fancy but he took a moment to step out of the sweats that he had probably been wearing for a few days straight by that point. Appreciated. Chan hands you a cup and raises it towards you just the slightest bit in cheers before taking a sip.

You catch the way his eyes linger on the silhouette of your waist and hips before pulling away in an effort to not be seen.

“Friend?” you say, nodding towards the girls that Chan had been talking to previously, and watch him in nearly a panic raise a hand up as if to swear upon something.

“We’re just friends.”

“That’s…what I said,” you respond, chuckling into your cup and shaking your head, “calm down, we’re friends, not married.”

“And I’m sure that’s devastating to you.”

The response fully takes you off guard, practically causing you to choke on the drink you had quite disastrously already taken into your mouth. You think of why he’d say this to you – as best as you can in only the few seconds you have to do so: he’s been there longer, is he drunk? Is he stupid? Is he insane?

“What?” you retort, looking at him with a face that one would surmise that they had grown an extra nose since the last time they had looked in the mirror. A look of absolute bewilderment.

“You were going to say I was handsome that one time, back at the cafeteria, don’t think I forgot,” Chan replies with a smug tone, as if winning some sort of battle that you hadn’t known about.

“Yeah that doesn’t mean I want to marry you, are you insane?”

“I was filling in the blanks, whatever,” he answers back, waving a hand about playfully and purposefully avoiding eye contact with you. It’s true that he might have had a few and that’s what had been causing him to be so bold, but he was very much aware of the game he was playing.

Two can play, you think to yourself.

“So am I to assume then that you wish to raise a family with me, with the way you were just checking me out only a moment ago?”

You watch Chan bite his bottom lip in an attempt to keep himself from smiling – knowing he’s caught – he looks down to the floor before looking over at you. “Ah, saw that, did you?”

“Yeah, not sure you could have made it any more obvious, actually.”

“Sorry about that,” he says, playfulness dropping from his tone slightly and replaced with seriousness. It catches you off guard, because wait, no, I like what we’re doing right now.

“You don’t have to – it’s fine,” you answer back hurriedly, to reassure him and try to bring the both of you back to a flirtatious place, but the look on Chan’s face is yet again another reminiscent of that day in the cafeteria.

All according to his plan. You’re right where he wanted you all along.

“So, you like it when I look at you then?” he says in a whisper, leaning over closer to you to assure that no one else will hear the conversation.

Now or never, shit or get off the pot.

You lean towards him, meeting him just about halfway to close the distance between the two of you, before turning your head to look at him and find your faces only mere centimeters from the other.

“That’s not all you can do.”

Sneaking out of the party was the easy part, it was the finding a place where the two of you could be alone long enough to make anything happen that was the difficult part.

Ducking and weaving through hallways and doors – all led by Chan who had the better understanding of the area in which the two of you were now navigating, he dragged you around by the hand in an attempt to find a place that he could have you. Away from prying eyes. Just you and him. And from the grip he had on you, and the information he had divulged to you previously, his intent to completely devour you once the opportunity arose was ever present, and lended itself to a dull throb between your legs already – the man hadn’t even touched you yet.

“I know,” he whispers, darting around a corner and looking down a hallway to make sure that no one will spot you, “I have just the spot.”

“Ooh, so exciting,” you tease, but it’s only seconds later that Chan has his weight pressed against you, your back to the wall and chest to chest – lips just barely missing your own – and the bratty attitude is swept from you in an instant and replaced with unfathomable desire.

“Or I could just have you right here,” he whispers against your ear, hooking one of his hands up under your knee and granting his hips space between your legs against the wall – and you can already feel the tenting in his pants at simply the prospect of getting his dick wet again after so long.

It’s hard to tell him 'no’ to the idea, but thankfully you don’t have to, Chan knowing it being a poor one as he smiles and pulls himself off of you only to once again pull you towards an unidentified place that the man has mapped out in his mind.

You’re thankful that it’s only a few more twists and turns down halls before Chan looks around and opens a door to a room, hurrying you inside of it and closing it behind with a 'clink’ sound of the lock. the room is pitch black in darkness and Chan had already let go of you once ushering you into the doorway, but it’s not long before you feel his essence – the feeling of his hands softly grazing your hips and causing the fabric to bunch up at your lower back as his hands slide in the direction. Your behind meets a table at his insistence in pushing you only a couple of steps towards it, and the mans hands creep back down to the outsides of your thighs, only to slide up again and hoist you onto the table.

Chan hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, and it’s the first time that he finally, after what feels like a fucking eternity, presses his mouth against your own. Kisses that at first start out gentle and experimental, quickly devolve into needy and sloppy – and mostly from his end. It’s easy to tell that he is quickly becoming unraveled, and the thought of it only intensifies the dull ache already present between your legs. Slowly pulling the fabric from your legs, he carefully pries them open by the knees and settles himself between – pulling your body as flush as possible into his as he kisses deeper, harder into your mouth. An attempt to taste every bit of you that he can, no doubt, and the absolutely intoxicating feeling of unbridled desire for you making your head spin. Chan was losing himself in you, and quickly.

It had been a long time, and he was going to ruin you.

Pressing one hand up against your face, fingers slightly woven into your hair to pull you harder into his mouth, the other hand quickly dips down in the space between himself, and the apex of your thighs. One, lone, fingertip gently pressing against your folds and it’s not only the whimper that escapes your lips and is quickly swallowed by him that makes him grin, but the physical desire for him dripping from you, as well.

“Good to know I wasn’t the only one dying for it,” he whispers into your lips as he begins slow circles right above your clit. “You might not walk out of here when I’m finished with you.”

The words cause an involuntary reaction, that surely he’d have felt had he been inside of you already, and you’re sort of glad he isn’t just for the sake of being able to get away with how absolutely, catastrophically, horny just the idea of it was making you.

And bless his heart, the fact that he’s only able to make a few circles into your pussy by hand before he’s pawing at the front of his own pants in an attempt to free himself and finally have what he’s been wanting all this time. He makes quick work of his confines for a man not necessarily practiced in the arts of having a quick fuck in a dark office, so it’s impressive – almost as impressive as what he has to show for himself when he pulls his length from his boxer briefs.

Chan’s kisses get sloppier by the second now as you feel him lazily stroking himself by hand against your sopping wet pussy, the head of his cock prodding between your folds and up against the entrance to your cunt as he shallowly presses into you, but never enough to enter much at all, and you don’t want to beg for it – well, you do – but you won’t. Maybe.

“Do you have a condom?” you finally whisper, pushing to the side one of the computer mice to illuminate the room slightly with a turned on monitor screen.

“No,” he responds, peppering kisses along your jaw, but pulling back his hips from you just slightly.

“Okay.”

“Should I stop?”

“I said 'okay.'”

“Yeah but you said it as like, an acknowledgment.”

“Chris, I said okay!”

“Okay, okay!”

It feels almost like a brutal display of force, the way he digs fingers into your thighs from the underside and pulls your hips towards his – the edge of your ass just barely hanging onto the edge of the table as Chan lines the head of his cock up with you and not-as-slowly-as-he-probably-should presses in – one arm wrapped around your waist for leverage and the other hand placed firmly onto the table – it makes your head spin, the burning stretch of him forcing  your body to accommodate his, all the while kissing you deeply, passionately. The juxtaposition of Chan’s primal urges, his innate desire to have you, to be inside of you, to fuck you, compared to the whimpers that drop from his mouth at the way you’re so snug around his length, so warm and wet – a feeling he had almost completely forgotten in all of the time he hadn’t had it. So enveloping and all consuming in the moment.

When Chan finally bottoms out inside of you, it’s a hiss of “fuck, so tight,” and in your mind you think that it could be that, or combined with his substantial girth – the way you can feel every wall and muscle inside of you tugged and pushed with every movement he makes within you even in spite of your wetness. You don’t care to understand the how’s or the why’s necessarily – it doesn’t matter – what matters, is that you might be close already just from the way his cock relentlessly pulls at your g-spot with every motion, but you’re thankful when Chan seemingly begins to lose the will to be kind with his motions, and instead chooses to chase his own high with abandon – as thankfully for you, it’s precisely what you need to get there.

Chan brings a hand up, pushing you to lean back on your own elbows in an almost lying position now, hooking his hand under your shoulder for leverage to pull your body down and onto his cock harder. He’s losing himself in the moment, in your body, and it feels good watching him do it. Listening to, and now with the smallest amount of light in the room – watching him pant and grit his teeth at every throb and squeeze of your walls around him – nothing was sexier than a man fully lost in the moment of desiring you, and Chan was fully lost – the only thing bringing him back now, was the crash of his peak, which you are happy to accommodate, of course.

But as much as you were enjoying the show, his relentless fucking into you quickly brought you towards your own peak, where normally you were able to meet him with playful comments now the only sounds dropping from you pathetic whimpers and cusses – and his name, of course, which met you with a particular crash of his hips and a growl through gritted teeth.

“F-feel so good,” you whine, feeling the beginnings of your muscles tightening and knowing that he can feel the same with the way his eyebrows furrow tightly and his button lip pulls between teeth. Chan hisses at the feeling of your impending orgasm and the look on his face – beautiful brown eyes up through eyelashes and a weakened state, Chan is almost disappointed – knowing that your orgasm will inevitably be his own downfall, as well.

“Close?” he responds, knowing the answer, and you nod – allowing your head to drop back, only for Chan to pull you back to look towards him, pressing his forehead to your own as he continues his relentless pace into you. “Where do you want it?”

“In-insi—” you whimper again, unable to even finish the word. Chan takes the time to drag kisses down your lips, to your jaw, and it’s that moment that you truly break any sanity that he had maintained through the encounter.

“You w-wanted me, so have me.”

You know that he knows it’s in reference to his coming inside of you, that the distinction doesn’t have to be made in the moment, and it’s all in good fun, of course, driving him absolutely mad with only a few words. That’s the joy of it, after all.

The effect is immediate, as expected, as Chan pulls you tight into him and fucks into you at a relentless pace, chasing his orgasm without any other single thought occupying space in his mind. The only thing he can think about now is filling you with his cum, and that’s all by design, of course.

Luckily, the angle at which he has you immovable is one that works exquisitely well for you, rubbing at your g-spot and pulling at your clit in just the right ways that you’re babbling and on the brink of tears in orgasm well before even he is. A chant of asking you to come for him, come on him, and you’re gripping down and attempting not to cry out at the waves of release crashing over you – Chan fucking you all of the way through it before he finally reaches his own right after you – painting your walls with his cum and continuing to fuck his release into you, albeit gently, even well after he finishes and begins to soften inside of you.

It’s a long few minutes before he pulls away from you – out of you, gently tucking his overstimulated cock back into his clothing with a wince and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand before bending down and helping pull your panties back up your legs and into place.

Chan stays there, nestled between your legs and on his knees, arms crossed with elbows anchoring him on either side of your knee as he gazes up in awe at your beautifully fucked out state of being. For a moment, it’s hard to even imagine the same man being that animalistic, that primal, as he just was only a few minutes before.

But duality is sexy, after all.

“You’ll have to let me do a better job next time,” he smiles innocently from between your knees, head slightly cocked to the side.

There’s a lot of good things packed into that one, extremely short sentence, but figure you’ll address the most pressing of them first.

“A better job…?” you ask, intrigued.

“Yeah,” he replies, pulling his arms back and gently prying your legs apart again to make space for him to press kisses to the inside of your thigh, and you hate the way it’s already making you hot for him again.

“There’s so much more I’m going to do to you.”

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

I’ve seen a number of imagines where due to interdimensional shenanigans or being liminal, Danny Phantom is more durable than most people in the dc dimension.

And those are cool and fine and all, but imagine if it was the opposite?

Danny Fenton gets punched twice and dies.

Which is fun on its own, but Danny is half ghost. He’s cursed to an existence where he can never truly be alive or dead for all eternity. Meaning that after a little while, Danny is back at it again, on the streets of Gotham in the same fleshy body he just died in.

He has to turn into ghost form first, but he can turn invisible as a ghost, so it’s fine, no one sees him glowing before he heads into an inconspicuous alleyway to return to life.

The blood stains would be a problem, but it’s Gotham so no one bats an eye.

Except for the bats.

(Warning: some death, corpses, and gore ahead)

—————

It always haunts Duke when he fails to save someone. He’s a hero now, and that’s part of the gig, but still.

He keeps wondering if maybe he had been faster, or stronger, or just a moment sooner, maybe then the civilian would’ve lived.

He sees the corpse in his nightmares, a reminder that he wasn’t good enough. It’s not rational, but Duke can’t get the image of the dead teen out of his head- the lifeless blue eyes, the dark hair, the…

… is that him?

No, it can’t be. It looks a lot like the kid, but his mind must be playing tricks on him or something. Because he saw that kid die. This kid, across the street, they must be someone else. Maybe they’re related?

Duke hears a commotion down a nearby alley, and leaves the mystery for later.

—————

Cass is concerned about this dead body.

In her line of work, it’s normal to see a lot of corpses. What’s strange about this one is that it makes no sense.

It’s splattered on the ground like it fell from a skyscraper. The tallest building in the area is five stories high.

The body is too fresh to have been from a while ago. It doesn’t show signs of having been moved. There weren’t any helicopters in the area recently it might’ve fallen from.

She surveys the area again. Perhaps this is a trap?

No security cameras or bad guys in sight.

She turns back to the body-

It’s gone. Only a pool of blood remains, undisturbed.

No one could have snuck past her. Something strange is going on.

—————

The bullet Jason shot shouldn’t have done this much damage.

The teenager was accidentally hit in a hostage situation. Usually Jason doesn’t miss like that, but the bullet should have just nicked him. A bandaid should have done the trick.

But this kid is leaking blood like a fire hose. It’s absolutely gushing out.

You never realize how much blood a human body has in it until you see it spread out all over the floor.

Jason puts pressure on the wound, damn the bad guys he is not having a dead civilian on his hands if he can help it.

He grabs a tourniquet from the first aid pack he carries. Fastens it around the kids arm-

- and the kid’s arm flops off. Not normal. Either Jason has just gotten Superman-levels of strength, or something is wrong with the kid.

The kid’s rapid breaths devolve into quick gasps. The blood from his wound slows to a trickle. Jason feels the kids heart go from pounding to nothing-

Fuck.

Instinct driving Jason more than any sense of reason, he puts the kid on his back to do chest compressions.

Jason pushes down. He hears a loud Squelch. His hands go through the kid’s torso.

Double fuck. Jason might know CPR, but he doesn’t know how to deal with this. His panicked-brain remembers he’s in a fight right now, and Jason turns towards the people who held the kid hostage.

They immediately surrender.

[malecftw]

Dirt - Tom Blyth

A/N: Duuuuuuuude, I feel like I'm in an alternate universe. Never would I have thought I'd ever be writing again, years later! Please please please let me know what you guys think since this is my first story back. It'll probably play a part in wether or not I'll write more since I obvs love writing, but a writer isn't a writer without readers.

Enjoy xx

Warnings: fluff.

(Not my gif obvs)

The cool breeze of the opening car door makes you smile. The vehicle moves slightly as someone sits in the driver's seat. After some rustling you hear: "Open up." You do as you're told and open your lips slightly, only to feel the cool metal of a reusable straw. A groan escapes your lips as you taste your favorite cooled beverage. By now, he knew all your favorites by heart, just like he knew your dislike for the standard paper straws they've started using everywhere. You're all for saving the planet, but paper should never be sucked on. You lean your head against the headrest as you turn your head towards the driver's seat, even though your eyes could only see black.

"Does this mean you're gonna be my servant all day?" You hear a chuckle. "Don't get used to it hot stuff. You're only blindfolded until we get there." You puckered your lips, "and where is there exactly?" you try again. For months, he's been keeping you in the dark about what he had planned for your birthday. He hyped it up quite a bit so your curiosity only grew as it led you to this moment, literally in the dark about the whole thing. He just kissed your lips and you knew that was the only answer you were gonna get.

The drive was filled with your favorite music, the occasional chatter and regular hand kisses as he held yours in your lap. Although you couldn't see anything, you weren't bored. It was rare that you got to spend much time together, so even this was a treat. You still found it crazy how he had been able to persuade the producers and director to film around your birthday. Well, persuading isn't exactly the right word. He had a few different gigs lined up, so he could basically tell them: "Give me these days off, or I'm going for the other job."

He was always the assertive one in the relationship. Especially when it came to you. Any free moment he could get, he would make sure to capitalize on it just so he could spend it with you. Ever since you guys met at Julliard, you'd been absolutely smitten with eachother.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car came to a halt. "Slow down tiger." He said, quickly grabbing your hand moving towards the blindfold. "Tooooooom, please..." you whined, squeezing his hand. "You'll find out soon enough, trust me. Now I'm going to come over to your side to help you get out okay. No peeking."

The dramatic sigh that left your lips made him laugh, loving the advantage he had over you. As you play with a loose thread on your jean overall he opens the door. Grabbing your waist, he lifts you out of the Jeep, squeezing your sides in the process.

"Okay, take off your blindfold on my mark." He exclaims, followed by alot of shuffling, making you aware of multiple people present. "Go for it babe." He says loudly, and you do as he says.

The sight infront of you startles you, not at all what you expected. It feels like you're in some kind of national park. Only stones, sand and dirt in sight. If you exclude the group of people infront of you that is.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Everyone shouts at the same time and you jump back a little in surprise. In front of you are you closest friends, as well as some of Tom's coworkers you'd been lucky enough to get close to. A few Billy The Kid costars were also there, you assumed the others had to keep filming while he had a couple days off.

As you take in the sight, hand over your mouth, still in shock, you notice everyone has a bucket hanging from their wrist. "What the fuck!?!" you shout, happy but confused. Tom walks up to you, takes your hand and walks you closer to the group. He hands you a similar looking bucket, a chisel and a hammer.

"We're going crystal digging." Tom smiles, stretching out his arms proudly as he looks at the scenery. Your heart nearly bursts at the seams as you throw your new equipment to the ground and jump in his arms, clinging onto him like a Koala.

"Tom Blyth, you are the most unrealistically perfect boyfriend ever and I do wonder how I ended up with you." You whisper, looking into his eyes, trying to make him realise how much this means to you.

It's not like you were crystal-obsessed. It's just something you'd been drawn to your entire life. A little quirk one might say. It was a subtle part of your life. One that you had often gotten judged for by previous boyfriends. Tom never spoke negatively about it, it was just a part of who you are and if it made you happy, why would he try to manipulate it out of you like the ones before him. It's not because he himself wasn't that interested in it, that you weren't allowed to be.

"Babe, all I do is listen. It's not rocket science." He smiles as he gives you a little Eskimo kiss. "So humble," you mock swoon as het puts you down. "Oi, don't be jealous if I find the biggest rock okay." He grins while nudging your side. "Not gonna happen. I'm a crystal magnet." You say cockily as you join the group.

After a couple hours, everyone was covered in dust and dirt. Happily you look at your bucket, having found a couple huge, beautiful crystals and a lot of smaller ones. Next to you Tom was also holding his bucket closer to his face to inspect what he found. Your shoulder touches his elbow as you say: "You know what, I might have a couple of them made into some lovely jewelry pieces."

Tom looks at you bewildered. "Like what?" You don't think much of it as you answer. "I don't know. There's some beautiful stones in here for some earrings, necklaces, bracelets... Or maybe I can make some stuff myself you know. Get my creative juices flowing." He sighs softly at your answer. "I love you." At that you raise your eyebrow. Neither you or Tom were shy of expressing your love for eachother, but this was a bit random. "I love you too. I honestly don't think you realise how much this means to me. I never would have guessed this to be the surprise. It's so thoughtful. It truly shows how much you know me through and through." "I'm glad you like it. You're always down to try anything, even if you're not sure about it in the beginning. That's why I feel comfortable trying something new. I'm aware it hasn't been easy now that work's been steady and I've been away from home a lot. And you have no idea how much I appreciate you giving me the freedom to follow my dreams."

He leans down and kisses you passionately. Melting into his touch you stand there for a while looking at the scenery, taking everything in.

*That evening*

"You clean up nicely mr. Blyth." You comment on his attire. He does a little twirl, smirking as he checks you out. "You're not so bad for a little scavenger." You poke his side and sit down in one of the chairs. After you'd said your goodbyes to the rest of the group, Tom had driven you about an hour away from the crystal mine. You knew that wasn't the end of your birthday surprise since he'd told you to also pack some nice evening attire.

Tom had booked an amazing restaurant. The owners went above and beyone to blow your mind, preparing an outdoor table with the best view. After dessert, you both were enjoying some lovely wine and eachother. Catching up after not having seen eachother for a while since you'd only flow in yesterday so you could spend your birthday together.

He absentmindedly played with your fingers as a comfortable silence settled between you two. You felt him rubbing your ring finger and noticed him looking at it. "Looks quite empty doesn't it." He says quite casually. You roll your eyes and jokingly hit his chest. "Don't play that game." You say, smiling widely. You'd talked about marriage before, you both knew you wanted it at some point in your life. Sure some people say it's just a piece of paper, and you couldn't fully disagree, but it also had a deeper meaning to the both of you. The promise of choosing eachother, every day, forever.

He looked into your eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not playing games anymore love."

The way he said it made you shiver. He'd made that joke before, but never with an answer so serious. He leaned back in his chair. "Do you remember, early on in our relationship, that time I forgot my tie for one of the first plays I did at Julliard?" You smile as you think back to that memory. "How could I forget. You were basically a living zombie for 3 weeks leading up to that play."

Tom nodded, back to playing with your fingers.

"I remember I had been so stressed. The character I played was so dull. I struggled so much finding ways to make him more interesting to the audience. And that damn tie. It was so important to me. Silly how something so small could mean so much at the time." "So much that you forgot it at home 3 hours before the play." You humored.

Looking enamoured, he continued.

"And I remember you. You with your make up half done, running towards me in a fucking thunderstorm. And when we met in the middle, you just casually opened your vest, handing over that damn tie."

Laughter exploded from your chest. You were in the middle of getting ready to attend the play when you got the frantic call from Tom. You didn't think twice and started running towards the school, and didn't even realise it was raining until you were running through the streets of New York City, by then it was too late to turn back to dress appropriately for the weather.

The man infront of you smiling, as he relived the same memory.

"That's when I knew."

A questioning look painted your face.

"I knew. Right then and there, that I'd always look for you in the crowd."

Speechless, you squeezed his hand.

He sat up straight in his chair. Taking both of your hands in his.

"I love you. I love the way you still can't use our airfryer, 2 years after we got it. I love your random obsession with knitting and making me wear your handmade sweaters to work. I love home, but only when you're there. I love that you let me be who I truly am and I love that you are fearlessly yourself."

He stood up and kneeled down infront of you, taking out a red, velvet box.

"Please allow me, to fulfill one more dream of mine."

As he opens the box he speaks with shaking voice and tears in his eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter nineteen. the gig cw. some slight anxiety + alcohol mentions ↝ wc. 1.5k + 2 SS

It was about thirty minutes before 3RACHA were scheduled to perform when you arrived at the bar. Thankfully it wasn’t too crowded but there was still a decent amount of people around, the place was nice and spacious so you were still very impressed. You were sitting directly at the bar, some fruity cocktail in front of you as you chatted with Ryujin and Yeji though the two girls were a little busy with each other. You didn’t mind at all, you found the two absolutely adorable. Besides you were a little distracted yourself, eyes fluttering across the growing crowd. 

On the left you could see the boy you had met just yesterday who was with Hyunjin and the pretty fairy boy. Ryujin had told you his name was Felix and he was famous on campus for his brownies. You had to admit, it was probably the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth. The cat-like boy then looks over at you, your cheeks flushing as you quickly turn away, downing your whole drink in pure embarrassment. The alcohol burns down your throat but you could care less - you might need to be a little intoxicated if you were getting out of this evening alive. Soon enough the lights are dimming and three boys are walking onto the stage. You turn around in your seat, content staying all the way in the back to watch the performance. 

They each take a moment to introduce themselves, the one on the right was Bangchan and you noticed he had his own set of devastated dimples. The one on the left was Changbin, who was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off his muscled arms. Of course they were both perfect, all eight of your soulmates seemed to be almost inhumanly gorgeous. It didn’t make sense to you. How did you of all people end up with these men? Fate was either fucking with you or trying to make up for the fact that she had given you the worlds shittiest parents and brother. 

Either way you don’t have much time to contemplate what Fate had in store for you as they began their performance. You had heard most of these songs already, what with you having been playing their songs on repeat for a few days. You couldn’t be blamed, they made such good music. You bobbed your head to the beat, a smile on your face as you watched them on stage. It looked like they belonged there, moving and interacting with the crowd that screamed for them. Unknownst to you, seven eyes were watching you carefully as you enjoyed the songs.

They had even played their solo songs, your body sitting up as soon as you hear the familiar tune of Alien playing. Your eyes practically sparkle as Jisung sings your favorite song and it doesn’t help that he looks so good, a few strands of hair in his eyes and black nail polish. You were convinced that he was trying to kill you. Little did you know that Jisung had begged his other bandmates to put Alien on the setlist, he desperately wanted to perform your favorite song for you. 

The others that couldn’t take their eyes off on you found it extremely endearing as you lip synced with Jisung. The fact that you had memorized the lyrics had definitely pulled at their heartstrings. Especially with a song that meant a lot to Jisung. 

They play for about an hour before their time is up, thanking the crowd for coming and to look out for some more solo songs being released in the next coming weeks. Soon after there’s another group coming up but you’re not paying much attention anymore. You order another cocktail, bracing yourself for what was going to happen next. “They’re good huh?” Ryujin asks as she leans into you, a smile on her face. You nod your head, happily accepting the drink before downing it. “Woah- you good?” She questions with furrowed eyebrows, slightly concerned but slightly impressed on how fast you swallowed the liquid. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You mumble, letting the alcohol infect your veins. 

Ryujin gives you another glance at you but doesn’t question it anymore. She had always been fairly good at reading you, knowing when not to push you. “If you say so. Me and Yeji are gonna dance for a bit ok? Come find us when you wanna go home,” She gives you another smile before she’s pulling Yeji by the arm, the latter giggling as she follows her soulmate into the crowd. 

You’re thankful to get the moment alone to try to ground yourself. Your heart is already pounding in your ribcage at the prospect of meeting your last soulmates. How much worse is the ache in your chest gonna be after finding all your soulmates? The unbearable pull you felt towards them, your heart angry at the weak strings that threatened to snap at any moment. All of this happening because you had yet to solidify the bond, something you weren’t sure you were ever gonna do. 

“Mio!!!” A voice cuts through your thoughts and you turn around to see Jisung, that adorable gummy smile as he walks over to you, his two other soulmates behind him. 

“Hi Sung” You reply back, trying to will yourself to calm down. He falters for just a second at the nickname before shaking out of it, pulling you into a hug. You’re terrified he can feel your heart pounding against his chest but you still reciprocate the brief embrace, thankful they probably can’t see your flustered cheeks in the dim bar. 

“Mio! This is Chan hyung and Changbin hyung. Hyungs, this is Mio!” 

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Chan greets you first, holding out his hand. Once again you’re pretending you don’t feel that zap of electricity when you slide your palm into his. 

“Likewise,” 

“Nice to finally put a face to your name,” Changbin also holds out his hand and you repeat the process. You force a smile on your face as they make small talk, awkwardness seeping into your bones. Oh how badly you want to run away. 

“Hey! There you are!” You look over at the voice and you find Hyunjin who is throwing himself into Jisung’s embrace, giving him a quick kiss. “You did so good Hannie,” The latter is blushing. It’s rather interesting to watch the two interact - you hadn’t had the opportunity to really see how the other soulmates were with each other. It both makes you wanna coo at how cute they were and maybe slightly jealous. But you push it down, trying to convince yourself that you don’t care.

Soon enough the other soulmates are coming over, greeting their lovers and commenting on how they enjoyed the show. While it’s endearing to see all of them together, the sudden realization that all your soulmates were in front of you sends pure panic into your stomach. Some of them greet you and you do your best to wave back, hoping your smile doesn’t look as strained as it feels. 

It’s like they know though, reading your thoughts as they keep the convo light, not forcing you to talk if you don’t want to. But it’s all too much. It feels so overwhelming, the feeling that’s pulling in your chest and you don’t know if you want to scream or cry. Nor do you know if it’s in a good or a bad way. Suddenly you really regret the two cocktails you had downed, your head starting to pound and you thought that you might be sick. 

“Mio? Are you okay?” It’s Jeongin who asks, noticing your face getting pale even in dim lights. 

“I’m. I’m fine,” You manage to mutter out, pulling out your phone to pretend to look at the time. “Oh man, I need to get home,” 

“Oh! Do you have a ride? We could-” You cut Jisung off quickly. 

“I came with Ryujin and Yeji, it’s ok. Bye! It was nice to meet you again!” The words spill from your lips as fast as you possibly can and you all but jump out of your seat, running into the crowd. Desperately you look for Ryujin or Yeji, eyes already burning with tears and your chest aching with a need you’re not sure you could ever give it. 

When you find the girls you’re a little out of breath purely from the fact that you’re trying to not have a panic attack right now. Ryujin looks over at you with concern, lips pulled into a frown at how distressed you look. 

“Are you-” “I’m fine. I’m fine,” It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself even though you didn’t believe it. “Can we go? Please,” You strain the last word in desperation and all Ryujin does is nod.

“Of course. Come on, let’s go,” She puts a reassuring hand on your lower back, helping you through the sea of people, exchanging a small look with Yeji.

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[unamused-boss]

California Dreaming

Another Billy Hargrove fanfic... yes I know what a surprise...

Billy Hargrove x reader

Summary: Max and Billy could only agree on one thing in common.... and that was you. You were their neighbor when the lived in California and Billy had the biggest crush on you. Plus it helped that you babysat, more like hangout with, Max. You were his California dream.

Part 2 is out! Go to my page pls

.......................................................................................................................

When Max and Billy were moved to Hawkins Indiana they knew they were loosing one of the few best things they ever had. You. Ever since Max moved into Billy's home in California, she had the pleasure of having you as her neighbor. From what started as a babysitting gig turned into a friendship.

Billy on the other hand. Having lived next to you for a majority of his life was absolutely in love. He'll admit love is a strong word but you were just breathtaking to him. When his mom was still around she always tried to get him to talk to you. Finding it absolutely adorable watching him try to talk to you at the nervous age of eleven. As he grew up, and more handsome, he found it much easier to talk to you. Still fumbling here and there though. Now in Indiana all Billy could think about was you.

"So you guys are really moving." You said. You and Billy were currently sitting on your front porch over looking the street.

"Yeah... to some shit hole in Indiana." Billy spit out.

"Hey it won't be that bad." You comforted. "Once you graduate you can come here with me." Hearing you say those words made Billy's heart leap. You've done so much for him.

"You mean that." He smiled.

"Definitely." You replied. Having grown up with Billy you have seen many fazes of his life. You remember how sweet he was, well he's still sweet but only to you, and how he got flustered over small things sometimes. You saw the destruction that his dad had caused upon not only him but also his sister. There is so much you wish you could do. Now Billy and Max is being taken away from you.

"What am I going to do with out you?" Billy questioned. "I don't like anyone else as much as I like you."

"You'll make new friends B." You laughed. Billy just rolled his eyes at you.

"With who cows? Rednecks?" Billy stated. "I wanna stay here so bad."

"I know you do Billy but things happen." You rubbed his arm.

"Well it feels like shitty things only happen to me." He retorted. You knew Billy had a short fuse. It came with his vulnerability and constant state of survival.

"Shitty things don't happen to you." You reassured. "Plus does that make me being one of the shitty things in your life." You tried to joke with him. He chuckled lightly at the attempt.

"No you're not. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me."

"Well don't give me to big of a head Hargrove." You giggled. "Enjoy what you got right now Billy, you leave in a week. And I don't know when I'll see you next after you move." You scoot closer to Billy. Looking out at the pink and orange sky as the sun set. It was like a dream.

Your words had stuck with Billy. After next week he will never see you again. He'll be on the other side of the country, you'll be gone. Your smile will be gone, your laugh, the conversations, coming over to "watch Max", movie nights, all of it. He can't just leave you. He has to tell you how much he cares about you. At least take you on a date. You've seen him with multiple girl as he's you with guys. Which he hated. If being your boyfriend will only last for one week he will grab that opportunity by the balls.

Billy stood up abruptly to face you, you look to hime with confusion and shock. He took a deep breath in and "Y/N. I have known you my entire life, and you are by far the most beautiful person I know. I have been to chicken shit to tell you but I like you. Damn... maybe even love you. But even if it only for a week I would love to take you out on a date and be your boyfriend." It was done. He said it. Billy Hargrove finally confessed his feelings to you. You sat still for a minute then... you laughed? Oh no, you think he's a joke now don't you. 'Good job pussy, now she thinks you're an idiot' Billy thought embarrassingly.

"I would love to Billy." You said.

"What?" Billy snapped his head to you.

"I said yes." You said once more." Jeez, I thought you were proposing for a moment."

"Oh, well it might have been much." Billy felt the heat on his cheeks rise. Just then you stood and walked over to Billy. Placing your hand on his shoulder; leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek.

"How about tomorrow at seven." You said.

"I would love that, we can get dinner then go to a drive in if you want." Billy suggested.

"I would love that. Don't be late." You said as you walked up and into your house. Billy has never been more happy. He probably would have skipped home from excitement. When he entered his house Max saw the smile on his face. Well everyone in the house could, it was not like it was going away anytime soon.

"Did you do it?" Max asked.

"What?"

"Did you ask Y/n out or not?" Max said, elaborating.

"Shut up Max." Billy said before going off to his box filled bedroom.

"I am taking that as a yes." Max concluded. She was happy for him, but sad at the same time. He just told his crush his feelings then has to leave them. She is going to miss watching Billy fumble in front of you at times. At least he'll be a bit nicer to her in the next week. 'I'm gonna miss Y/N...' Max thought sadly.

Now being in Indiana, Billy was right it is a shit hole. His dad has been more on his case about watching Max and everything else in his life. The kids at school already cling to him; from being both new and from California. As Billy pulled into the high school parking lot for him and Max to get out at, he looked to Max.

"Alright shit-bird. Be out buy 3:45 or you're on your own." Billy pointed to her. She rolled her eyes to him.

"Fine." Max sassed to him as she got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Billy looked to his watch and saw he had a few minutes before he had to go in. He pulled his cigarettes out to take a quick drag. With said cigarette hanging from his lips Billy hastily looked for a lighter. Looking everywhere, then grabbing his sun visor in hopes he stashed it up there. Once the visor was flipped down and out something hell out of it. A polaroid. Not just any but the Polaroid you took on your first date with Billy. You took as many as you could in the week you and him had together. This polaroid being the only one he took with him when he moved. It was a picture of you and him in a booth at the restaurant he took you too with you giving him a kiss on the cheek. He remembers it like it was yesterday. You asked your waitress to take the photo for you; as Billy stood for the photo you grabbed his collar and placed the kiss on his cheek. The act causing both of you to bust in a fit of laughter right after. Billy wonders what you're doing right now. He wishes he was with you. Billy didn't realize that he was staring at the photo for to long till the first bell rang for school. Billy huffed carefully put the picture back into place, put his cigarette away got out of his car to make his way to school.

You'll always be his California dream.

[guitarstringed-scars]

silver springs- keiji akaashi

silver springs- keiji akaashi x f!reader, angst with a somewhat happy ending, band au, just a one-shot for you all

keiji akaashi hated this breakup. he hated how you missed three rehearsals after it was over. he hated the way he missed you so much, and he hated the way suna was right.

“are you sure it’s a good idea to be in a band with your girlfriend? i mean no offense man, you guys seem perfect for each other, but what if things go south?” he had asked years earlier.

“things wont. i’m gonna marry her.” he had replied at the time. he kept that thought for years too. he was gonna marry you. so, the band was perfect, and it wasn’t long before you all shot to stardom.

being in the spotlight is hard. it was hard on you, it was hard on keiji, it was hard on your relationship. the fans, the rumors, the lack of privacy. it was all slowly drilling a hole between you two. you loved each other, and you trusted each other, but the public didn’t know that. all they knew was “keiji akaashi spotted with model alisa haiba, girlfriend y/n l/n is LIVID!” or “insider says that y/n l/n is considering leaving boyfriend keiji akaashi for volleyball superstar koutaro bokuto!”

you both knew these rumors weren’t true. that you were just in the bathroom in the pictures taken of keiji and alisa. that you would never leave keiji for koutaro, and you were only at a game because he’s such a close friend of you two. but when the entire world is telling you that the rumors are true, things get complicated. the first real fight you had was also your last. there was yelling on both sides, and crying on both sides, and finally an “i think we should break up.” from keiji’s side.

it was dumb. letting one fight ruin the 4 years. even as you fought, he was still ready to marry you. but one too many thoughts were said out loud. so it all came crumbling down.

the days after were rough. you took all of your stuff and moved out right after he said those words. he locked himself in the bathroom as soon as you grabbed your suitcase.

the headlines the next morning only made it worse, “y/n l/n spotted leaving boyfriend keiji akaashis apartment in tears with her bags. is it truly over?”

yes. for once, the tabloids were right. it is truly over. keiji regrets it. he regrets even starting the argument with you. he doesn’t even remember how it started. but he remembers how he started to fall in love with you.

4 and a half years earlier keiji sat in a crowded bar. the same bar he frequented every weekend as a student, this weekend was no different. there was always a different musician playing, and this week it was you. y/n l/n. you sat on a stool, in the center of the stage, just you and your guitar. you looked absolutely perfect, he thought from the back. he couldn’t even see your features properly over the crowd, but the moment you started singing, he knew you were perfect. keiji was already playing bass or guitar for a few groups at this point, just last minute gigs and such, but he knew he wanted to make something of his own. so while he listened to your angelic voice sing, he sent a message to a few friends. suna, who he had met in university. a great drummer. sugawara, who he’d met back in high school. he was great at the piano. semi, who he knew as the guy who plays guitar. he begged them to start a band with him, and much to his delight, they agreed. he promised them the perfect lead singer as well.

only problem was getting you to agree.

so he approached you as you were packing up your guitar, and practically begged you to join. up close you were even more beautiful. you had just laughed at his begging and agreed, surprisingly.

when asked about why you joined 2 years later in an interview, you laughed again. “i thought the guy asking was pretty cute.”

so when the two of you started spending all your time together in a band, it was inevitable that you’d end up together. you shared the same passions for music, the same care for your band mates, the same humor, the same interests.

and you did end up together. when you two told the rest of the band they were all overjoyed, they all saw it coming. so when suna pulled keiji aside after you two announced it, he was a bit surprised to hear what he said.

“are you sure it’s a good idea to be in a band with your girlfriend? i mean no offense man, you guys seem perfect for each other, but what if things go south?”

and things did go south. not in a gradual motion, but in one intense turn. things went south. you didn’t speak to anyone in the band for a week. they all knew what had happened, and none of them expected it. just like none of them expected the sudden attention the band began to gain.

you all started as an opener for a bigger artist, and then you were having your own tour, and releasing albums, and being interviewed, and winning awards, and being observed closely and attacked for every minuscule movement.

you were sick of it. keiji could tell. you would lay in bed next to him at the end of a long day of interviews, or recording, and tell him stories of how it was when you were a solo musician, just starting out.

“do you regret joining the band?” he would ask you as you played with his hair.

“no.” you would answer. “cause then i wouldn’t have gotten to meet you, or koushi, or rintaro, or semi, or so many other incredible people.”

and the two of you would fall asleep in each others arms, happy.

now keiji sleeps alone in the guest bedroom. he can’t stand being in your room without you.

at the first rehearsal after the breakup you didn’t show up. your manager was upset, and called you 3 times. after the 3rd time hearing your voicemail message, your manager turned to him.

“could you try calling her akaashi?” she asked.

“she wont answer me. she’s not coming.” he answered, before getting up and locking himself in the studio bathroom.

he won’t be the one people ask to get a hold of you any more.

this whole routine repeated twice more, and on your third missed rehearsal, you finally showed up, an hour late.

no one wants to speak. keiji bites the inside of his cheek for a moment as you set down your guitar. he’s about to say something before your manager interrupts his thoughts.

“you’ve missed three rehearsals, a dinner, two interviews, and four meetings.” ”great. i’ll get those rescheduled.” you say, not even looking up from your guitar. you haven’t looked at him once.

“where have you been?” she asks you.

“i needed some time. i wrote some stuff.” you say, turning to the band for the second statement. you still don’t look at him.

your manager sighs and exits the room. it’s always been a rule that its just band members in the room at rehearsals.

“what’d you write?” semi asks, as he messes with his guitar. you look at semi. keiji wants more than anything for you to look at him right now and tell him you forgive him, but he knows that wont come. especially since he hasn’t given you an apology to accept.

you don’t look at him the next two hours. you play two songs you’ve written over the past week. they are full of emotions that no one in the band is quite ready to process. you start to explain what sounds you want from the other instruments. helping suna with the rhythms, playing the melody for sugawara, and explaining chords you like to semi. when it comes to the bass, you go quiet for a second.

“i don’t know what i want the bass line to be.” you say. you look at him for the first time. he can see the hurt in your eyes and he wonders if this is why you’ve avoided looking at him. he can also tell that you are lying. the people in this room know you better than anyone else. you’ve spent almost every day of the past four years together, and keiji knows you best.

he knows that you know exactly what you want the bass line to be. he knows you’ve spent hours coming up with it and picking it apart. he knows you have a perfect bass part written out in your magnificent mind, and he knows you wont tell him what it is. so, he works on it alone. and every time he plays it, you find something you don’t like about it.

finally, the rehearsal ends. you don’t look at him much more the rest of the time. the other band members pack up quickly, eager to escape the tension in the room.

then, it’s just you two.

he speaks first.

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, it’s my fault. i can’t figure out what i want the bass line to sound like.” you say.

“no.” he says.

you don’t say anything.

“thats not what i meant and you know it y/n.”

“then what do you mean keiji?” your voice is full of hurt. you do know.

it’s his turn to not say anything.

“you know i love you.” you say, shutting your guitar case. ”y/n. i love you more than anything, please.” he’s crying now. he watches a drop land on the glossy finish of his bass. he can’t help but feel like it’s oh so cliche. he hears shuffling beside him. feels a hand on his shoulder. you are kneeling next to him now, holding a notebook. it’s your song writing notebook. he’s seen it many times before, sat on the desk in your shared bedroom.

you’ve written countless love songs in it for him. countless songs about the way you feel, your life, your stories.

he watches you open it to the most recent page. theres a bass line written out at the bottom. eraser marks all over prove it’s one you’ve thought about deeply.

you hand him the notebook. the same second he’s grabbing it, he’s setting it down on the floor beside you two and wrapping his arms around you. you reciprocate the hug. now you are both sobbing.

keiji is mumbling into your hair. he’s telling you he loves you, and he does’t want to break up, and he was just stressed because you’ve never really fought before. and he tells you he's gonna marry you.

and he’s telling the truth.

a/n: hi i love akaashi, and i love music (i play the bass hehehe) and i really liked writing this! very proud of it woohoo!

[heartofwritiing]

Dance with me

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: you’re at a music festival with lovejoy, you and wilbur can’t help but be pulled together when a certain song from your favorite band plays.

authors note: I got inspired by this clip I think it’s from ash’s tiktok, its one of my favorite wilbur clips and for some reason the idea of dancing with wilbur at a music festival sparked within my weird little brain lmao. enjoy this quick fic as (i like to call them) my writers block is killing me ughh

warnings: none, just fluff, established relationship, reader is a member of lovejoy, very short, and unedited!

Sweaty bodies screamed around you, shouting back lyrics to the band that was preforming on the main stage you were just on hours before.

It was one of your favorite bands Arctic Monkeys. you still couldn’t believe you were here, only dreaming of performing on stage in-front of big crowds like this when you were little, putting on concerts in your living room for your family members. It was all thanks to the band you had joined a little over a year ago.

Lovejoy was looking for a keyboard player to only do live gigs. After some time and getting to know them more and more, watching them grow into their style and become best friends with all the band members. You had unofficially joined the group along with the other respective trumpet players joining on tour.

Now you were traveling the world, getting to see new places and having an experience like no other.

Wilbur and you had only met three years ago during quarantine, almost right away you knew he was the one. You had joined in on a call with a mutual friend to play some online game. since then, you had met in person several times, moved in together, joined his band, and the rest was history. Getting to travel the world with your partner was an absolute plus.

You rocked along to the rhythm of the guitars, the beat of the drums pounding through the speakers stimulating your brain. Ash and Mark, were standing to your right, bobbing along to the music with grins on both their faces.

Ash was filming the stage, panning around to show the camera Mark, who was watching the stage intently. Ash unexpectedly moved the camera to you noticing you looking at him and now was your opportunity to show off your goofy side. While still dancing, you started making faces, this caused Ash to hold back laughter.

You continued this, oblivious to the fact Wilbur was sneaking up behind you. You missed Ash's quick glance behind you, and a pair of arms came around your waist, pulling you flush against a person's chest. You let out a surprised yelp, you almost were about to elbow the person in the ribs for grabbing you but the smell of musky cologne flooded your senses. it instantly made you discover who it was. Ease came over you knowing it was Wilbur.

Taking a breath, a smile inched up your lips as he placed his chin on your shoulder and rocked you side-to-side to the beat of the music. You said nothing as you crept up your arms to rest on top of his, lacing your fingers together in a tangled mess.

Wilbur hummed as you leaned into his touch once the song ended, cheers erupted around you but soon died down due to the next song starting up with the rift of the gutair. Letting out an audible squeal you recognized the track, quickly spinning out of Wilbur’s arms to face him he saw the evident smirk on your lips as you took his hands in yours once more.

“Dance with me?” you asked playfully.

How could he say no to you? Wilbur noticed how your hips started to move with every beat of the drum, taunting him to move with you. Your eyes sparkled mischievously casting a spell and drawing him to your further.

Wilbur took your left hand and placed it on his shoulder. Then your other hand is in his. You felt his arm go around your waist and he began to move in a sway.

The crowd around you appeared to vanish. Having your arms around your lover was the only thing that mattered in your mind. He took you into a swinging step as the music got faster, and you wondered when the crowd had dispersed to make more room for you.

Wilbur spun you around quickly by the arm, causing you to trip over your feet. With a gasp, you collided with his chest. Giggles crawled out of your chests. He helped you stand upright as your eyes crinkled with happiness.

Your laughter died down, and he leaned his head to your level to press your foreheads together in a blissful moment of contentment.

Taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez

if you want to be added or removed let me know!

[foreverdolly]

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 | ex's best friend! austin butler x reader

summary: after a bad breakup with your cheating ex, the last thing you're expecting is for his best friend to side with you. at his insistence, you decide to let him accompany you to the arctic monkey concert in las vegas. what happens in las vegas doesn't always stay in las vegas.

warning/notes: one bed trope, SMUT! exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, begging, creampie, protective!austin, austin really said "fuck cheaters" with his whole chest in this fic

word count: 13,138

masterlist | requests are currently closed !

“Austin wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I don’t even really know Jeremy anyway, so why the hell would he bring him?” You were currently holding Juniper, placing a few quick kisses to the top of her head as you bounced her in your arms. Your best friend was in the process of cubing cheese, getting ready for the wedding anniversary party she was throwing. You had offered to help earlier, but she had simply handed you her daughter. Juniper loved you the most out of any of her other friends, which was why she never threw fits when you were around. She simply tugged on your hair and played with your necklaces, content with just being around you.

“I don’t know. I’m just anxious, you know? I broke up with him a week ago, and you know how vindictive he is.” Jeremy was the type of person to go out of his way to make you uncomfortable. He was the absolute king of getting a rise out of you, and you hated that. You had a feeling that he had been spewing all types of bullshit Austin’s way, and despite the fact that you and Austin had been friends before you and Jeremy even dated, you knew that his loyalties would probably be with his male friend. It only made sense. 

“Come on, Y/n. Jeremy is a-” She lowered her voice as she looked up from the cutting board. “Asshole,” she whispered, shooting you and Juniper a small smile before going back to work with her knife. “But Austin isn’t. He asked specifically if you were going to be here tonight because he wanted to talk to you. He loves you both. Besides, you weren’t the one that got caught with a Tinder account. You aren’t the bad guy in this situation. Austin is a loyal friend, but he’s fair. He knows Jeremy is the one that messed up. When I talked to him last night he sounded super angry about it all.”

You rocked back on your heels, spinning around in a circle a few times just to make Juniper squeal before continuing your train of thought. “Yeah- no. . . you’re so right. I don’t want to make him choose a side, but he’s known Jeremy the longest. I know that if push came to shove, it wouldn’t be me he’d stick beside. That’s all.” You’d have to be an idiot to think that Austin would pick you over his longtime friendship. You had met Austin through a modeling gig towards the beginning of his career. The Hannah Montana era- which he still visually cringed at the mention of. You had been an assistant photographer back then, fresh out of high school, and the two of you had clicked. Two years later you both ran into each other at Ashley’s birthday party and decided to exchange numbers. Austin was the person that had introduced you to Jeremy in the first place. Of course, he probably never thought that the two of you would end up dating. You and Jeremy were polar opposites, which you had once found cute and quirky, but now realized was incredibly annoying and a waste of your fucking time.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” You heard Ashley mumble under her breath, but when you hummed at her, she merely shook her head. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” She was quick to flash you an “innocent” smile. 

There was a knock at the door, and you were quick to shuffle off towards it. “No, no. I’ve got it.” Christopher called out, jogging ahead of you before opening the door. A few familiar faces shuffled in, giving Ashley’s husband tight hugs before moving over to you. You gave them side hugs, smiling softly to yourself as they cooed at the adorable baby in your arms before moving towards the kitchen. Words of congratulations were exchanged before they were ushered out the back door. “I’ll take her from ya.” Ashley walked over, scooping Juniper out of your arms before nodding towards the kitchen. “Can you cut up the carrots and celery for me? That’s all that’s left.” You were quick to salute her, a silent ‘you got it’, before moving over towards the kitchen island. She wrinkled her nose at you, blowing you a quick kiss before floating out the back door and to the waiting guests.

“I think you should stay another week. Having you around has been an absolute blessing, Y/n.” Chris told you, and as you looked up you could see that he wasn’t joking, but telling the truth.

“Ah, you guys need your privacy though. I just didn’t want to go back to our apartment until he moved all of his shit out.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We have a big house. Besides, Juniper hasn’t been this well behaved in a while. She’s teething, and with you around she hasn’t been as fussy. Not only that but Ashley loves having you here. You live an hour away, and she misses you.” You shot him a warm grin before ripping open the bag of organic carrots, cutting off the stems before slicing them down the middle.

“Hey! In my defense you two are the ones that moved away from me.” He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry for stealing her from you.” He teased before heading out the back door to follow after his wife. 

You’d met all of Ashley’s previous flings, and none of them were as fantastic as Chris. You couldn’t imagine her with anyone else. He loved her as well as her family and friends. He treated you like family, and you adored him for that. There was a soft knock on the front door again, and instead of putting your knife down to open the already unlocked door you simply called out that it was open. A lanky blonde pushed his way in, a large bouquet of flowers in his arms. For a second the two of you stared at each other, anxiety already gnawing at your stomach. Ashley’s words from earlier had only calmed you down a little. You weren’t sure what kind of conversation he wanted to have with you, but you were sure that probably wasn’t going to be good.

“Long time, no see.” He smiled softly at you, walking further into the house so that he could set the flowers down on the kitchen table before making his way over towards you. He stood across from you at the kitchen island, leaning over so that he could place his forearms against the granite. You rolled your eyes, shooting him a soft smile.

“It’s been two weeks.” You retorted.

He returned the smile, his blue eyes dancing over your face before he nodded. “Exactly. Long time.” 

For a few seconds the only sound that could be heard in the house was your constant chopping. You weren’t sure if he was waiting for you to say something or not. You weren’t sure what to say in this sort of situation. You were sure that something along the lines of ‘hey there, i know my shithead of an ex boyfriend is your best friend, but i’ve known you longer than i’ve known him, so i’m hoping we can still be friends’ probably wouldn’t go over too well with him.

“So Jeremy called me last week.” He started.

You sucked in a breath before placing the knife down on the cutting board. “Oh yeah? What did he say?” He cleared his throat before walking around the island, moving closer to your side. He leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked good, but when did Austin not look good? He was wearing white wash jeans, old boots that made him even taller, and a jean button up the same shade as his pants- tucked in with a belt. You would be lying if you said that you had never been attracted to your friend. He was a good looking guy, but he had just started dating Vanessa right around the time that the two of you got close. Not to mention that, but you weren’t the type of person to cross the boundary of friendship with someone that you were close to like that. That was how things got messy, and you didn’t like drama. 

“Well. . .” He pursed his lips for a second, his blue eyes flickering up to the ceiling for a second before he finally looked back down at you. It appeared that he was trying to find the right words to say. “He tried playing the victim for a few minutes, but caught on pretty quick that I wasn’t falling for it. I scolded him a little bit, and now he isn’t returning my texts.” Your mouth fell open, eyes going as wide as saucers. Austin had stood up for you? God, you knew that he was a wonderful person, but you didn’t expect that.

“He isn’t talking to you?” You were stunned.

Austin shook his head, mouthing the word ‘nope’ before reaching over for the knife that you had placed down. He went to work doing what you had been doing before, giving you the opportunity to assemble the vegetable board in a way that Ashley would find aesthetically pleasing.

“I’m sorry if I look a bit shocked, but I wasn’t expecting you to actually say anything to him.” He cleared his throat, his long fingers gripping the hilt of the knife tightly as he started to work on the celery.

“Being cheated on is a shit feeling, and the fact that he threw away almost five years with you is just plain stupid. He knows how I feel about it, and now he’s choosing to ignore the problem rather than to own up to anything.” Ashley had been right. It sounded like Austin really had picked a side. 

And it was yours. 

“How are you holding up though? I was waiting for you to reach out to me, but you never did.” He sounded a little hurt. You licked your lips before grabbing one of the small bowls Ashley had taken down out of the cabinet, filling it with the green goddess dressing the two of you had picked up at Whole Foods a few hours back.

“I’m doing surprisingly alright. I’ve been staying here with Ash and Chris for the last week, which has been pretty great,” You took a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t reach out to you because I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position with Jeremy. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure on my end. Maneuvering friendships after a breakup like this is really hard.” He hummed in understanding, scooping up the celery in his hands before distributing it on the plate. His hand brushed yours, and he kept it there for a couple of seconds before moving it back down to his side.

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m your friend too. You’re having a hard time, and I want to be there for you. Jeremy can be a selfish dick, but I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s always been like this. I don’t really expect too much out of him anymore, but just know that I’m really upset with him over this. When you two first started dating I had a feeling that this was how it would turn out. I tried to warn him about hurting you, but he didn’t seem to heed my advice.” He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest again. “Which isn’t surprising.” 

Sure, you’d heard some pretty choice words about Jeremy from Austin’s lips before after a drunken fight or some play-teasing that one of the boys took too far, but this was pretty full on. Whatever picture Jeremy had tried to paint for Austin the other day over the phone must not have been very nice. It made your stomach churn just thinking about what he had told his other friends. God, they must have thought you were some kind of a monster. That was the one thing you absolutely couldn’t stand. You were the one that had been hurt in this entire situation, but suddenly you’re the bad guy. You had done everything you could think to do in order to save your relationship with him. You knew that it wasn’t going to work out long term, but you still loved him. You don’t just waste five years of your life on someone you don’t love. The longer you spent away from Jeremy, the more and more you started to pull your head out of the clouds and come back down to earth. Even if it was a long way to fall- the realizations had been hard- but it was good. You had been biding your time with Jeremy. The two of you never really talked about marriage or children. It was almost like the two of you had just been in a relationship because it was convenient for the two of you. You were attracted to one another, you had mutual acquaintances, and it had just made sense to be together in your early twenties. Now? Now you just felt like a moron who had allowed herself to be mistreated all in the name of “love”. 

“Well I don’t know how you’ve put up with him for so long. I’ve only known him for five years and I’m starting to regret the day I ever met him.” You tossed a carrot onto the plate a little harder than you had meant to, and you cursed under your breath as it bounced off and landed right on the floor.

Austin bent down and picked it up for you, tossing it into the trash. “I guess you have me to blame for that. I wouldn’t have introduced you two if I knew that he would have hit on you. You aren’t the kind of girl he usually goes for. You’re unique and actually have a personality.” That made you laugh. Austin couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he watched you, and soon he was bumping his shoulder up against yours. “Do you need help with anything? I’d be willing to drop some of his stuff off at his place. Maybe egg his house? Might be therapeutic.”

You snickered, shaking your head. “No, he should have all of his junk out of my place by now. I gave him a week, and my neighbor said that he hauled a whole truck load of shit out. The only thing that’s causing me some stress right now is the fact that I spent way too much money on those Artic Monkey tickets and a hotel room up in Vegas, and now I can’t even go.”

His nose wrinkled as he looked down at you. “Why the hell wouldn’t you go? You need to get out of the house and have fun after all the shit you’ve been through this past week.” 

Yeah, you could really use a night out. 

Sure, getting wine drunk and watching Married at First Sight with Ashley was a blast, but you needed to get out of California for a bit, even if it was just a two day ordeal. The tickets had originally been a late birthday present for Jeremy, but he’d gone and fucked everything up. You’d already called the hotel only to find out that they don’t do refunds so short notice, and it was impossible to find someone to go with you. Ashley didn’t like the Artic Monkeys, and even if she was willing to go with you, there was no way you were going to inconvenience her any more than you already had. Jenny from work said that she would have loved to go with you, but her fiance had planned a surprise trip to Arizona to visit her elderly grandparents. The rest of your friends either weren’t big fans and weren’t willing to take the time off of work or already had plans. Sure, you could always go down there and stay by yourself. It would nice to have meaningless sex with a hot stranger, but over the years of inconsequential hookups you knew that doing something like that after a bad breakup only ever hurt you worse in the long run. There’s nothing bad about chasing your own pleasure, but you were better than that. Besides, getting even with your cocksucker of an ex wasn’t worth the possibility of contracting some kind of sexually transmitted disease, and Vegas was probably chalk-full of those. 

You also had your own safety to worry about. There was no way you trusted yourself to get drunk at the concert, hail an Uber and then crawl back to your hotel without something bad happening. Human trafficking was a real and serious thing, and you’d rather waste a little over a thousand dollars than something bad happen to you. “I wish I could go, but I’ve already asked everybody I could think of and they’re all busy. I’ll probably just try and sell the tickets or something.”

Austin’s eyebrows furrowed as he took a bite out of one of the carrots. He chewed a few times before hurriedly swallowing. “You didn’t ask me.”

And for a good reason. You didn’t hate the idea of being petty. Jeremy totally deserved it, but Austin didn’t. There was no way you were going to pull him into your drama. You gave him a look, and he let out a small chuckle before shaking his head, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. “No, I’m serious. I’ll go with you. I don’t have any shoots or interviews for a full week, and my upcoming project doesn’t start for another month and a half.” Ever since he was in that Elvis biopic his face had been plastered all over god’s green earth.

“Jeremy would-” He cut you off before you could finish.

“No, fuck that. You told me you spent like. .  . five hundred dollars on the hotel room for the night. Let’s just go, have a good time, and then we can both come back home refreshed. Besides, I love the Artic Monkeys. You know they’re one of my favorite bands. The tickets were sold out by the time I decided to buy one. Not only that, but I didn’t want to crash you and Jeremy’s date.” Austin did love the band just as much as you did. Also it was always a blast hanging out with him. You hadn’t been alone with him for years. You remembered how much fun the two of you used to have back in the day, and you could really use a good laugh. 

Breakups make people do dumb things. Some people bleach their hair in a desperate attempt to reinvent themselves, while others go on a month long drinking binge. You? You agreed to go to the concert with Austin. Your ex’s longtime best friend. Alone. “Yeah! You’re totally right. It will be fun.”

Austin threw his fist in the air, and once he had heard you laugh he threw his leg out in a half-assed move he had probably learned during one of his karate lessons, which only made you laugh that much harder. “It’s going to be great. God, I’ve never seen them in concert before. I’m actually pretty psyched right now.”

And you could tell. He was grinning ear to ear. That smile remained on his face for the rest of your best friend’s celebration, and he stuck to your side like glue throughout the entire night. Later that night he shot you a text, as if you would possibly forget the promise that the two of you had made.

You had asked a very tipsy Ashley what she thought about the situation, but her input wasn’t much help. “I think you should have sex. No! For real, girl. He thinks you’re hot so I think you should go for it.” She was ridiculously inebriated, and mostly everything she says when she’s drunk is either highly dramatized or completely nonsensical, so you disregarded the last comment.

If Austin found you attractive at any point during your friendship, then there was no reason why he would have introduced you to Jeremy in the first place. The two of you were strictly friends. . . even if you did find him attractive yourself. That didn’t mean that the feelings were mutual. 

You always used to enjoy road trips. That is, until Jeremy came along. The man always had something to complain about. Either his legs were cramping up, his ass felt sore for sitting too long, or he didn’t like the music you had turned on for the both of you to listen to. Going anywhere with that man was always a chore. Not to mention the fact that he always had something to say about your driving. Driving in the car with Austin reminded you what you loved so much about the open road. It was supposed to be fun and carefree, and when you had good company it was always a blast. Austin insisted on picking the music, which you definitely didn’t mind. He was still on an Elvis kick, and because of his major role in the movie he had a newfound love and respect for blues music. Towards the end of the four hour trip he had turned on the Artic Monkeys to get you both ready for the concert. You had sped down the interstate listening to his favorite songs by them, screaming the lyrics right along with him. Austin enjoyed driving with the windows rolled down, not caring about how his hair looked or how his ears popped. He must have enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face. You followed his lead, rolling yours down as well. It really was therapeutic to get out of the state for a little while. The second you saw the sign for Nevada you practically moaned in relief. You were free, even if it was just for a little under forty-eight hours. 

A couple of times during the trip you had seen Austin lift his phone up, taking pictures of the desert road and videos of you singing your heart out, your hair in your face from the wind and a wide smile dimpling your cheeks. Ashley would always be your best friend, but you hadn’t felt this happy in months. Maybe even years. Austin appeared to be in the same boat. You hadn’t seen him stop smiling. Not even once. When the two of you finally pulled up to the hotel, which was only about ten minutes from the concert venue, the both of you were in high spirits. Austin grabbed your overnight bag for you as you climbed out of the car, which you thanked him for by opening the lobby door so that he could step into the hotel first.

“Hey there. I booked a room here about two months ago.” You gave the front desk clerk your first and last name, but he was staring straight behind you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. You almost rolled your eyes as Austin used his free hand to wave, knowing damn well that the man must be momentarily star struck.

“O-Oh. . . okay. Give me just one second.” The young man’s face flushed as he began typing away furiously at the computer. “Here’s your key cards for the room.” He went to hand it to you, but his hands were shaking so horribly that he dropped it. The short brunette cursed under his breath, scrambling to grab the small packet before handing it off to you.

“Before we head up, I just wanted to see if there might be any rooms available with two beds? I know that the one I booked was a suite with a king size.” You didn’t want to be difficult, but it was certainly worth a try. Austin took a step closer to you, leaning against the counter as he looked down at you. You ignored his gaze, waiting for the boy to check. 

“I’m so sorry, but we’re completely booked for the night. There’s a pretty big concert going on down the street in two hours, so all of the hotels in the area are probably completely booked up for the next week.”

You should have known that this would happen to you. You’d seen enough romcoms to know how this sort of situation went. Two platonic friends get stuck in the same hotel room together with just one bed. Of course this would happen.

You closed your eyes tightly for a few seconds before pocketing the hotel pamphlet. “Thank you.”

The boy shuffled awkwardly where he was standing before nodding his head towards Austin. “I know that this might be super lame, but my girlfriend absolutely loves you. I saw Elvis and. . . y-you killed it, man. Do you mind signing something for me?” Austin smiled warmly, placing the bags down on the floor.

“Not at all. Hey, thank you so much for seeing the film by the way. And tell your girlfriend that I said thank you for the support.” The boy nodded, quickly grabbing a blank sheet of paper out of the printer that he had beside the computer monitor, sliding that and a pen across the counter towards the blonde. You were used to people stopping Ashley while the two of you were out, so it wasn’t anything that you weren’t used to. For some odd reason, in this case at least, you felt an immense amount of pride wash over you. Seeing the way that he so sweetly interacted with a fan who was very clearly freaking out made you feel proud to have him in your life. Austin wasn’t just an amazing actor, but an amazing person as well.

“What are you all smiley about?” He asked you with a small smile on his face, bumping into you with his shoulder as you both walked into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor.

“Just proud of you is all. It’s really amazing to see how far you’ve come.” Austin leaned back against the stainless steel wall as the doors began to close, and as you turned your head to face him he was quick to face the other way.

“Are you blushing?” You teased lightly. He was quick to wave you off with his hand, shuffling his feet until he had his back to you. You could still see him in the reflection of the wall, and you were quick to let out a small chuckle. “Don’t get all shy with me when I compliment you.” He shook his head a few times before facing you, blue eyes wide with shock. He had a sheepish grin on his face, and there was something about that expression that made your insides feel uncomfortably warm.

“I’m not used to you saying stuff like that to me in person.” Compliments had always made him feel embarrassed, which was why press tours made him feel a bit anxious. Austin was humble to the degree that whenever people went out of their way to remark on his work he sort of. . . shut down. His cheeks would heat up, he’d begin biting his lip, and he’d find it hard to make eye contact. He’d always been like that, ever since you first met him. Teasing him was fine, but whenever you very honestly commented on how well he was doing in his career? That was when the nervous ticks began. 

He was smiling to himself, staring straight ahead at the glowing buttons, watching as the numbers flickered on the screen, signifying that you were still a long way off until the top floor. The confined space was beginning to make you feel. . . odd. Your heart was pounding, you were becoming overly aware of how close you were to Austin, and all you could smell was his woodsy cologne. You were the type of person that used humor as a coping mechanism, so under your breath you began singing what you could remember of the Hannah Montana theme song. He was quick to give your arm a light thwack, his loud laughter echoing in the confined space.

“You ruined it. We were having a bonding moment, and you totally killed the mood.” He was still laughing though, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Exactly. Of course you didn’t admit that. Instead you only laughed, moving away from him as he gave you a gentle shove.

“Come on, dude. . . I mean- sometimes I’m in a jam and I have to make a plan. It might be crazy, but I do it any-” He grabbed you by your shoulders, giving you a few shakes. At this point you were both belly laughing, barely able to keep yourselves up as the elevator continued to jostle as you climbed higher and higher. The sound of his cellphone loudly ringing made the both of you quiet down though, and the second that he dug the device out of his pocket and you saw the name that was flashing across the screen? Dead silence. 

“Shit.” Austin cursed under his breath, his thumb hovering over the answer button as he debated whether or not he wanted to answer. Anxiety locked up your limbs as you fell limply against the wall, watching with wide eyes as he worried his lip with his teeth. “I’m going to answer it. Be quiet for a second.” He swallowed thickly before pressing the phone against his ear. “Hey, man.” There was a beat of silence before Jeremy’s loud voice came over the other end. He sounded mad. Really mad.

“What the fuck, Austin? Are you with Y/n right now?” Austin licked his lips, turning down the volume in an attempt to keep you from hearing whatever rotten things the rancid man was bound to say.

“We’re seeing a concert together. Why?” The blonde sounded guarded, a stark difference from the soft, teasing tone he had been using with you just seconds ago.

“Why? Are you seriously asking me that right now? You’re on a date with my girlfriend of five years after only a week of us being separated. What the hell is wrong with you?” You kept your eyes on the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief when you noticed that you were almost to your floor. It was almost as if Jeremy knew that you had finally allowed yourself to let loose and have fun. Whatever joy you had felt just minutes ago had been sucked from your body. Hearing his voice had been a catalyst, and suddenly all you were reminded of was just how wrong this whole situation was. Sure, he deserved it, but you weren’t the kind of person to go out of your way to be cruel.

Austin seemed to notice your shift in mood, because he reached a hand out, placing it on your shoulder as he spoke. “Y/n and I have known each other for well over five years, so I don’t think it’s weird for me to spend time with her. You can’t dictate when and where I see her anymore, Jeremy. She had an extra ticket and I offered to go. End of story.” Austin’s tone left no room for argument, but that didn’t mean that Jeremy didn’t try. 

“I had to find out through your instagram story that the two of you were even with each other right now. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? You’re supposedly my best friend, and now you’re in Vegas with my ex. Do you not realize how fucked up this is? Am I in the fuckin’ twilight zone or something?” You didn’t even think about the fact that Jeremy might see Austin’s private story. You had been too preoccupied with actually being in the moment to even think of the repercussions. You knew that your ex would eventually catch wind of the two of you doing something like this, but you didn’t think he would have the audacity to call within the same day.

“Embarrassing for you?” You flinched at Austin’s tone, your heart rate picking up even faster. God, was this going to turn into a fight right now? You started shaking your head, trying to signal for him to give you the phone. Whatever anger Jeremy had, you were used to taking the brunt of it. You didn’t want Austin to be the one that got reprimanded over this situation. He had been nice enough to come with you, after all. Even if he loved the band, he was still doing you a major favor by tagging along and keeping you safe from whatever creepy men were surely lurking in the shadows of Las Vegas. He shooed you off with a gentle flick of his wrist, his eyes hardening on the steel elevator doors. “You got caught trying to cheat on your girlfriend of five years, and you’re the one that is embarrassed? Why? Because your ex and your single friend- who have known each other for years, might I add- are hanging out? You’re a fuckin’ piece of work man.”

“Fuck you! How the hell do you not see how big of a deal this is? You’re fucking her, right?” Austin groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him with a gentle thud, his eyes screwed shut.

“I’m not fucking her. You’re painting this out to be some huge deal when it really isn’t. Stop spinning this false narrative so that you can play the victim. It isn’t going to work with me, Jeremy.” You ran your hand down your face, listening to the elevator as the floors continued to ding past. Jeremy must have recognized the noise too, because he was quick to speak up about it.

“So where are you two right now?”

Austin didn’t hesitate. “We’re heading up to our hotel room.” You instantly recognized the mistake though. Room. Singular.

“So you’re sleeping with her tonight? Austin, how fucking long has this been going on?” Great, now the paranoid asshole thought that you were the one that had been cheating. Maybe this had been what he was fishing for the entire time. He needed a reason to continuously slander you to all of your mutual friends. 

This was turning out to be a car-crash of a day. A fiery one too. You couldn’t seem to catch a break. You’d been smart enough to block Jeremy on all social media the night that you saw the notifications on his phone and kicked him out, but now you felt the need to unblock him just to message him. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he could try to move on whilst still being knee deep in your relationship. Suddenly you’re the bad guy for trying to do the same? You hadn’t even come here with the intention of making a move on Austin. That had been the furthest thing from your mind, but you were so angry that suddenly it was on the table. You had always liked Austin. He was a fantastic guy, and had always gone out of his way for you without fail. Having sex with Austin might make things a bit awkward, but you sure as hell wouldn’t hate it. You just didn’t want him to think that he was a rebound hookup. 

Because let’s face it; you’d always had a bit of a crush on him. Seeing the way he was viciously protecting you right now only solidified that. He must have known that he was potentially ruining one of his longest standing friendships for you, and he didn’t seem to care. Austin wasn’t pulling any of his punches either. He was going straight for the throat. 

“If I’m so disappointed in you for cheating on her, why the hell would I go for her while she was still in a relationship with you? How does that make any fucking sense? Not to mention you went out of your way to control and nitpick every single little fucking thing she did, Jer. I wouldn’t do that to you, and I’m pissed off that you would even accuse me of something like this.” The door to the elevator opened loudly, and Austin was the first one to walk out, the two duffle bags swinging in his right hand while he held the phone up to his ear with the left. You couldn’t hear what Jeremy was saying now that you were out in the hall, but it must not have been good, because the second that Austin walked up to the correct room number he tossed the duffle bags down, throwing his free hand up into the air exasperatedly. “You’ve always gone out of your way to keep us away from each other. It hurt my feelings, but I understood and dealt with it. We get along too well and you felt threatened.” You scrambled to reach into your pocket with a shaking hand, trying desperately to find the keycard.

“Yes you were,” A beat. “No, Jeremy. You felt threatened. Every single adult woman that I know has at least one male friend. Ashley has a husband and we still call and text almost every day. It’s normal. The only thing that isn’t ‘normal’ is you in this situation.” Austin nodded his head in a silent thanks as he pushed his way past you and into the hotel room. He placed your duffle bag down onto the bed, keeping a hold on his own as he made his way towards the bathroom. You were still standing in the entryway, feeling like your limbs were locked up from the shock and stress of it all.

He brushed past you, and it was then that you could hear what Jeremy was saying. “-and I always knew you had a thing for her! So why the hell would I leave you alone with her? I’m a guy! I know how guys are!” Austin was quick to shut the door to the bathroom, not wanting you to hear any more of the conversation. You could hear the zipper to his bag and his hushed voice, but other than that you couldn’t make out anymore of the conversation. 

“I’m not trying to be difficult, but my friend will most likely get ambushed if we try to enter through the main line.” You had asked to speak with the manager of the venue, chewing your bottom lip anxiously as he narrowed his eyes on you.

“And tell me again who your friend is?” The man asked gruffly.

The last thing you wanted was to try and come off privileged, but this certainly wasn’t a ploy to try and cut the lines. Someone was bound to recognize Austin, even in a dimly lit concert hall, but the last thing you needed was for all hell to break loose. There were at least a few thousand people that would be attending the show, and protecting your friend was your top priority. He had gone out of his way to show you support throughout the entire day. He had ruined his friendship with Jeremy all so that he could be there for you. You could tell just by the look on his face when he had stepped out of the bathroom that things had blown up far worse than they had in the elevator. It was over. By the time that the two of you headed back home, you were sure that everyone in your tight knit group would think that you were a homie hopper of epic proportions, and Austin would be losing one of his oldest friends. For now the two of you didn’t want to think about that though. Right now, at this very moment, the two of you wanted to drink overpriced beer and act like fools in front of Alex Turner. 

“Austin Butler.” The guy blinked a few times before realization dawned on him.

“Ah!” He pointed at you, nodding his head enthusiastically. “He was in that Quentin Tarantino film.” You snapped your fingers, nodding your approval.

“That’s the one. He was recently in the Elvis biopic, which is really the only reason why I’m hoping you can just scan our tickets and get us in the dark building.” The short, stocky man nodded a few times, music pumping away loudly in the building. The opening act hadn’t started yet, but they were bound to play any minute. Adults and teenagers of all ages were lined up around the building, chattering excitedly with one another.

“I loved that one line of his. ‘I’m as real as a-’”

“‘ Donut, motherfucker,’” You finished hurriedly for him, laughing nervously. “Yeah, yeah. It was hilarious. What do you say though,” You looked down at his nametag. “Anthony? Can I go ahead and wave him on over? I don’t want him to get out of the uber if you can’t help us though.” The second that people started clamoring out of line to get pictures and autographs was the second that you would both probably be forced to leave. Anthony nodded, grabbing his walkie talkie off of his hip and bringing it up to his mouth.

“I’ve got two VIPs up front that are going to need an escort. Stand by.” You turned your body towards the silver Hyundai, waving animatedly at the car. Austin must have been watching you, because the second you gave him the “okay” signal, he was up and out of the car.

“Thank you.” You heard him say to the driver before closing the door, quickly jogging over to your side. He tucked in close to you, smiling down at Anthony. 

For a second the older but shorter man just stared up at Austin. “Holy shit, you weren’t lying.” You let out a nervous laugh, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You thanked god that you were wearing your comfortable heeled boots. You had already been standing outside for nearly thirty minutes. You could hear whispers in the line beside you, and while Austin didn’t dare to turn his head to face anyone, you anxiously did. Sure enough, a group of young girls were staring directly at the both of you.

“Come on you two, I’m going to take you through the side entrance.” He told the both of you, already walking off in the direction of the building.

Austin breathed out a quick thanks before reaching down, taking your hand in his as the two of you began walking through dimly lit doors. The concert venue already smelled of alcohol and women’s perfume. Whether it was the Nevada temperatures or the amount of bodies that were already packed in the room, the building was stiflingly hot, even in the back corridors. You blinked your eyes as you passed by a few black chests, squinting ever so slightly to read the words painted on the side.

“I think this is their stuff.” You leaned in to whisper to Austin, who was quick to whip his head around.

“Holy shit. Are we. . . backstage right now?” He mumbled, though quickly shut his mouth as Anothony turned to face the both of you.

“Did you guys want to get any beverages? Once I put you guys in your spots, there’s really no leaving.” Austin reached into his back pocket and pulled out his card.

“Is there any way that someone could grab us a few beers?” Anthony took Austin’s card from him and waved over another person who was wearing a black “staff” shirt. They whispered something to one another before Anthony quickly shuffled off. 

“What if he stole my card?” Austin turned to look at you, smiling widely.

You rolled your eyes, letting out a small scoff. “Oh my god. You’d shit yourself.” The blonde let out a small laugh, rocking back on his own vintage boots.

“The night would definitely go to shit, that’s for sure.” He wrinkled his nose in that adorable way that you loved so much, and you found yourself getting caught up in the moment again. Austin had this wonderful way of making everything feel alright. The world suddenly felt steady beneath your feet. You could breathe in his presence. “Let’s have a good night, alright? We didn’t drive here.”

“Meaning we can get wasted?”

His lips twitched up into a small, naughty smile. The moment felt very personal. Special. You had almost forgotten about his hold on your hand, because you nearly jumped when he gave it a small squeeze. “I think that we both deserve a drink.” 

You lost count somewhere after your fourth beer. You weren’t a lightweight, but the last time either of you ate anything was hours ago, so the alcohol went straight to your head. You excitedly raised your beer above your head as the band finished up their third song of the night. Austin laughed at you, but was quick to raise his own beer as well. You couldn’t remember the last time that you felt this comfortable around a guy before. Here you were, in a highly populated area and drunk to boot, feeling more safe than you ever had in your own home with your ex. Austin stood behind you, his free arm wrapped around your shoulders, his forearm pressing against your neck. Maybe he wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave his sight. Or better yet, maybe he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. You were too inebriated to think too far into things. During the opening act, when you were a little bit more perceptive to your surroundings, you had seen a few people taking photos of you and Austin. You were positive that he must have known as well, but he didn’t bat an eye. He stuck close to you, leaning in to whisper jokes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He had even pulled out his own phone, pressing his forehead against the top of your head as he kept the camera pointed at the stage. Every once and a while security would walk over and take the empty beer bottles out of your hands, waltzing off so that they could quickly replace them for you both. 

Austin had the top buttons of his shirt undone, so when you turned your cheek further into his embrace, you felt his bare skin against your face. It was hot enough in the building that you both were sweating, your hair sticking to your cheeks and the back of your neck. A few strands of wavy hair currently clung to the skin just below his temples. You were trying your hardest not to stare up at Austin, because the longer you looked, the more beautiful he became. You could feel your hair sticking to his chest as you leaned your head back against him, blinking up at him as the stage lights flashed. Fans began to cheer loudly as Nick O’Malley played the opening notes of the song Arabella. You watched Austin’s smile widen, his eyes twinkling in the bright blue lights. He must have felt your gaze on him, because he looked down at you.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him with how loudly the music was playing, but you could feel his chest vibrating against your cheek as his deep voice sounded. You could see his plush lips form the words.

“I just love you.” You shouted back up at him. Because you did. Really and truly. Austin was one of the best people that you ever had the pleasure of meeting, and you hoped that he felt the same. 

You weren’t an idiot though. You saw how he treasured you and your friendship. He had proved how wildly protective he was over you. You saw the way that he was looking at you right now. He didn’t have to say it back, because everything that he had done tonight said it for him. Every gentle brush of his knuckles against the skin of your bare shoulders. Every featherlight kiss on the top of your head. Every sway of his hips as he danced right along with you, matching your goofy energy effortlessly. The smile that he shot back down to you was blinding, and right on cue one of the staff breezed by, reaching out for your empty drinks. Austin grabbed yours out of your unsteady hands, leaning in close to the other man to say something that you didn’t hear. Now that the two of you were no longer nursing your drinks, Austin swung you around, throwing his head back as you let out an excited shriek. You pressed your chest in close to Austin, breathing out a small laugh as Austin pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you swayed back and forth. His large hands were holding tightly to your hips, dragging them against his as you both swayed in place. His knee was in between your legs so that he could be the one in control of your movements. You weren’t sure if you would be able to keep either of you steady if he had let you take the reigns. 

The other concert-goers bodies were pressed in tightly to you, but they were all dancing with their own partners, some of them kept their phones out to film the performance and the crowd. In that moment you suddenly remember just who he was and the fact that he was dancing very provocatively with you.

“What if someone takes a video of us?” You pressed your lips against his ear as you spoke. You felt him shiver against you, having to bite your own tongue to keep yourself on your best behavior.

He was shaking his head before you even finished. “Fuck it.” 

We deserve it. 

You remembered his words from earlier on in the night. You were usually the kind of person that over thought every decision that they ever made. You were anxious by nature, which was why being with someone like Jeremy had only served to worsen your mental health. Dancing with Austin like this in a crowd of people that no doubt knew exactly who he was probably wasn’t a very good idea. Drunk or sober, you probably would have put yourself into this exact same situation. Why? Because this was the most fun that you have had in years. You felt free. Actually free. You were with someone that looked out for you and cared for you, and if he wanted your chest pressed right up against his so that he could feel you better- then damn it. You were going to let him. His long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as he slid his palm up to the base of your neck. You could see your lashes as your eyes became half lidded, and felt the heaviness of the thick mascara you had applied before leaving the room. The glitter that you had applied to the tops of your cheeks and the inner corners of your eyes had rubbed off on Austin. It was on his chin, his own cheeks, and his chest. The stage lights flashed from blue to red as the chorus picked up, the drums pounding in your ears. 

As Arabella! Arabella! Just might have tapped into your mind and soul.

You leaned up on your toes so that you could press your forehead against Austin’s, both of your eyes still half lidded and glued to one another’s. “You can’t be sure.” He mouthed the words, his plush lips brushing against yours. Once again your lips were twitching up into a smile, and you reached your own hand up, grabbing a fistful of his wavy locks so that you could press his forehead even harder against yours. 

That’s magic in a cheetah print coat. Just a slip underneath it I hope. 

The lights flashed again, going from red to a deep purple. The two of you were now fully wrapped up in each other, the both of you covered in your glitter, your bare skin dewing with sweat. You’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. Not once in your life. It was painful just standing there, gripping onto one another like your lives depended on it. Neither of you were dancing anymore. You both had stopped your movement the second that Austin’s lips had brushed against yours. You could see the gentle question in the man’s blue eyes. Would it be a mistake? Would this just be a one time thing for the both of us? Would it mean as much to you as it would for me? 

Asking if I can have one of those organic cigarettes that she smokes. Wraps her lips round the Mexican Coke. 

You were too buzzed to overthink anything anymore. You were sick and tired of being worried about everything. You had a bad habit of overcomplicating things in your head, when in actuality it was really quite simple. You and Austin were far from strangers. You found him attractive, and his actions tonight had you questioning whether or not Ashley really had meant what she had said the other night about him having a thing for you years back. Would it really be a mistake if something really did happen between you? You were both single, and even though you and Jeremy had only been separated for a week, things had gone sour years ago. The tears that you had shed over the situation were those of anger. You were embarrassed about the fact that you had unknowingly allowed yourself to be taken advantage of. You didn’t miss him. If you kissed Austin, it sure as well had nothing to do with Jeremy. So as Austin leaned forward, his blue eyes still locked on yours, you couldn’t help but urge him forward. 

Makes you wish that you were the bottle. Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like- 

His lips were softer than you expected, but you blamed it on the fact that you had been kissing your ex’s dusty ass exclusively for far too long. He kissed you tentatively at first, testing out the waters, but as the guitar solo continued to press on, the crowd cheering loudly all around you, the lights flashing behind your closed eyes, his timidness began to dissipate. You clung tightly at his shoulders as your lips moved fluidly against his. It felt like years of pent up attraction was being put into this kiss. It felt heavenly and hellish all at once, and you knew that if you could devour Austin in that moment then you would have. The venue largely smelled of other women’s perfume and beer, but now that you were as close to Austin as you could possibly be, you were able to really smell him again. His signature scent had changed multiple times over the years, as had yours. His natural scent was something that you had never been able to fully describe though. It made everything smell a bit darker- more earthy in a way. The woodsy, amber notes of his current cologne made your head spin. 

His rings pulled on a few strands of your hair as he gripped harder onto the base of your neck, pulling you as close as humanly possible. If you thought that it was hard to breathe before, now it was impossible. Austin was crushing you to him, the hand that had tangled itself into your hair gripping hard at your hip. There was a small, nagging voice chattering in the back of your head, trying to tell you that it wasn’t a good idea to be making out in the middle of a crowd of people. You normally would have been worried about whether or not you were making others uncomfortable, but you couldn’t think of anything else outside of Austin. You could feel his fingers digging into your hip, his digits slipping beneath the flowy fabric of your top. The band had only played four songs and you were already more than ready to head back to the hotel. There was raw desperation in the way that Austin was touching you, almost as though he was panicked that at any second this might be taken away from him. That you might be taken away. 

His lips were no longer timid against yours, rather demanding and possessive. Whether you knew it or not, he was claiming in that sea of people. Pressing hard enough to bruise and committing your taste to memory. His tongue claimed your mouth, the palm of his hand dragging upwards over your stomach, his fingers grazing over your underboob. He froze, pulling away from your lips to let out a small hiss. You didn’t need to hear every word he said- you felt them against your mouth. Swallowed them as he spoke to you.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” It was less of a question and more of an observation.

You could feel the drums echoing in his chest against yours, and let out a small whimper as his fingers moved upwards another inch, cupping you through your shirt. All someone had to do was look over at the two of you and they would immediately be able to see what was going on. You weren’t about to shy away from Austin because of a few prying eyes.

“No.” You breathed against his lips, swallowing thickly as you felt him groan deep in his chest, giving your breast a small squeeze.

“I’m trying so hard to be good right now.” You pulled away another inch so that you could look up at him.

His cheeks were flushed a pale pink, lips kiss swollen and glossy with the combination of both of your saliva. His eyes? No one had looked at you like that in years, and even if they had, they sure as hell weren’t Austin. His dirty blonde hair, in the yellow stage light, looked golden halo. The damn near biblical beauty that the man possessed was offset by the dark look in his eyes. They were blown out wide, practically black as he looked down at you. His jaw was clenched, and you could tell that every bit of beauty that you were currently finding in his face, that he was currently finding in yours as well. 

You weren’t sure how many minutes had passed, but you must have missed a few songs. People were cheering all around you as “R U Mine” echoed over the speakers.

“This ones a classic.” You tried to lighten the mood, swaying your body back and forth ever so slightly.

Your hips dragged against his with the movement, and you could feel just how hard he was for you. You hadn’t even touched him yet, and he was stiff to the point of pain. He let out another groan, letting his head tilt back towards the ceiling as he closed his eyes tightly. His hands were still holding you to him, but you could feel them beginning to shake. His restraint was steadily crumbling.

“Yeah,” He breathed, pressing his hips harder against yours. “Classic.”

You weren’t sure how you were even able to stand anymore. You were suddenly stone cold sober, all of the alcohol burning right out of your system. You felt like you were burning up, suddenly overaware of the warmth pooling in between your legs. Consequences be damned, you wanted to fuck him. You needed to fuck him. You didn’t care about how other people might feel about it, or even how it might make you look. 

You were sick and tired of being unhappy. You were sick and tired of being sexually unfulfilled. You were sick and tired of being attracted to Austin and unable to say anything. People often say that “timing is key”. Well. . . now was the right time. You were sure of it. Jeremy, over the years, had somehow convinced you that it was better to be docile. Women that were bold with their sexuality weren’t sexy at all to him, rather just whorish. You felt yourself beginning to hesitate, worried that somehow your brazenness might send him the wrong message. Because you were needy, but that didn’t mean that this didn’t mean something to you. The way that Austin was staring at you though silenced your fears without him having to utter a word. In a sea of beautiful women, he had stared at you all night as though you were the only one that existed. He had tunnel vision, and it had been that way for years. He had been happy for his friend when the two of you started dating, and moved on with Vanessa. But you’d always been on his mind. Whether this was just a one night stand to you, or perhaps a backwards way of getting revenge on Jeremy. . . He couldn’t find it within himself to care. He’d let you use him in whatever way you saw fit, just so long as he could have you. Even just once. 

People were pressing in on the two of you as they danced and sang along to the music, and he pressed you in closer to him to make room for the others. Your hands brushed over his chest, slowly making their way down his abdomen to the front of his jeans. He sucked in a breath, eyes widening as he took in your delicious expression. He loved seeing you so confident. You were always gorgeous, no matter what you did, but you were otherworldly in your confidence. If there was enough room to do it, he would have fallen to his knees in front of you. Dressed in all black, your hair slightly limp with sweat, your glitter face catching the light just right. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. His expression pushed you to go further, pressing your palm a bit harder against his length and giving it a few gentle rubs. He twitched in his pants, lurching forward a bit as he let loose a rather loud groan. You two had earned a few stares throughout the night, but thanks to the popular song no one was paying either of you any attention.

“I need to fuck you. Please. Please let me fuck you.” 

The uber ride was spent in tense silence, the two of you unable to take your hands off of one another. He never let go of your hand, placing soft kisses against your face as the minutes ticked by and you began to get closer to the hotel. The driver must have realized that now was certainly not the time to make small talk, because the only thing he said to either of you was your name when you opened the car door, just to make sure that you were the right person. You both uttered a quick thank you before climbing out of the car. Austin practically yanked you through the double doors of the hotel, still shaky and slightly sweaty from the concert. The second that he had gotten you into the hotel and pressed the button, the heavy metal doors rattling closed, he had you pressed against the wall. In the blink of an eye you had been pushed back a few steps, his large hands scooping both of your wrists up so that he could press them above your head, rendering you useless. The cool stainless steel bit into your skin as he pressed you harder against it, his jean covered hips pressing against your stomach. 

He kissed you like he loved you and hated you all at the same time. 

You felt like you were going to explode. Like he was pressing into you so hard that your ribs might give out and break. Honestly you didn’t mind that idea. If you could have absorbed Austin into your body somehow, you would have. He was everywhere. His scent was heavy in your nose, the taste of him on your tongue as he devoured you, and you could feel every inch of his body pressed up against you. Trapping you there against the wall. He kept your wrists gripped in one hand, his free hand running down your body, hastily unbuttoning the front of your tight pants.

“C-Cameras.” You mumbled against his lips, opening your eyes so that you could nervously eyed the corners of the elevator. Sure enough, there was one situated right on the both of you. “The front desk can see us.” Your voice came out hoarse, and as his lips moved to your cheek and down your neck, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy sound. A cross between a sigh and a moan as you tried to keep the noises at bay.

“He can watch.” He mumbled against your skin. 

“Holy fuck.” His voice had never sounded so deep in your ears before. You could barely breathe as his hand slipped down the front of your pants, easily slipping past the thin fabric of your underwear. He took a second to feel the fabric between his fingers, and you could feel him smile against your neck. “Lace?” You couldn’t even nod. All words had completely escaped you as well. “Cute.”

And then he was pressing into you, fingers running along your velvety folds. He swallowed thickly, his hold on your wrists becoming so tight that it was slightly painful. You didn’t care. You wanted him to hurt you. Any sensation was a good sensation at this point. He must have felt how wet you were already for him. Now he knew that kissing him at that concert had practically killed you. “So soft.” He spoke gently to you, but his deep voice cracked. He was trying to stay soft with you, but now that the dam had finally broken, it was hard to keep himself in check. There were years of pent up sexual tension finally bubbling to the surface. 

His lips continued to press against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. You were sure that there would be marks tomorrow morning. Either he wasn’t thinking about the dark hickeys that he was leaving or he just didn’t care. You would take whatever he gave you. You wanted it all. His finger pressed against that small bundle of nerves, causing your hips to jerk forward in surprise. He let out a small hiss, removing his lips from your neck so that he could run his nose gently up the expanse of your throat, straightening out to his full height so that his smoldering eyes could bore into you.

“Be good for me, okay? I need you to stand as still as possible.”

You nodded quickly, the elevator floors flashing on the digital screen behind Austin. You didn’t even remember pressing your floor number. You could be headed to the roof for all you knew. He leaned back down, pressing his face into your neck once again so that he could get better leverage. The height difference, in this case, was beginning to get annoying. His fingers gathered up your slick before pressing against your entrance. He didn’t ask for permission or warn you, rather he just slipped them inside of you without any hesitation. It felt good to be full- though you still weren’t as full as you would have liked to be. Having something inside of you was still enough to have your head lolling back against the elevator wall, your eyes screwing shut tightly as you tried to keep your hips as still as possible. 

“That’s my good baby.” My.

You wanted to scream. His fingers curled slightly inside of you, his thumb pressing against your clit as he began to successfully work you up into a frenzy. You were already worked up to the point that you could feel yourself immediately building up, your abdomen tightening with every thrust of his fingers and every brush of his thumb. That combined with his teeth and tongue constantly teasing the skin of your throat- it was more than enough. When was the last time that anyone had actually made you cum? It was sad, really. You always went out of your way to pleasure your ex and never got anything in return. Austin was taking his time with you though, almost like his own pleasure was an afterthought. He wanted to possess you first. He wanted to work you up until you couldn’t think about anything else other than fucking him. 

The elevator chimed, the doors rattling open. You let out a whimper when he slowly slipped his fingers out of you, watching as he smiled that slow, sly smile of his. Much to your relief there was no one in the hall, so when he let your sore wrists go you practically stumbled through the hall, trying desperately to find your room. Austin’s large hand found your wrist again, pulling you in the right direction. You tried to keep up with him and his long legs, your own feeling unsteady beneath you.

“W-Where’s the keycard?” He seemed so put together and in control in the elevator, but his stutter told you everything that you needed to know. He was just as wrecked as you were. Barely able to hold it together. He reached into your back pocket before you could tell him, his hands sliding over your rear. He “tsked” softly when he found what he was looking for, quickly sliding it into the handle and yanking it open wide. You winced as the knob slammed against the door, but you were past worrying about any noise complaints or the possibility that you might have neighbors. Austin was slipping his shirt off of his shoulders before the door was even fully closed, kicking off his boots as quickly as he could before descending upon you. His hands gripped at your hips, pressed the fabric of your pants down and off of your legs. He took a second to pull back so that he could admire your panties.

“Just like I thought. Cute.” You squirmed under his heated gaze, moving your hands to your shirt so that you could remove that too. He brushed your hands away though, wanting to do it for you. 

There was a possibility that this might be the first and last time that he got to do this, and he wanted to be able to fully enjoy the moment. He let his eyes explore every inch of your skin, his fingers dancing along the soft skin of your back, moving to cup your breasts in his hands. You felt impatient, but you didn’t complain. You allowed him to admire you. Seeing the way that he looked at you reminded you that you were worthy of love. You hadn’t felt beautiful in a while, but seeing Austin panting over your body put it into perspective for you. You were never the problem. It was him. 

“I want you to keep your feet planted on the ground, but turn around and face the bed.” Austin was unzipping his jeans after what felt like an eternity of gentle touches and heady exploration.

You were quick to do as he said, but grunted when he gently pushed you forward. You planted your forearms on the bed, keeping your back arched, your ass in the air. He sucked in a breath, his belt jingling as he kicked the pants off. He must have liked the panties more than he was letting on, because he merely slipped them to the side, taking a good look at your warmth.

“Fuck, so pretty.” You believed him.

He slid his hand over his length, giving it a few good pumps before he froze. “I don’t have a condom.” He mumbled out, defeat edging its way into his voice.

“I’m on birth control.” It was irresponsible, you knew that. Saying something like that was so unlike you, but you truly felt like you would regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t fuck him tonight.

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.” He seemed to be in the same boat. 

You quickly nodded, gripping the duvet covers tightly between your fingers as you felt the head of his member press against you. “Please. Please just fuck me.” You didn’t need him to try and warm you up- to gently slip in so that it wouldn’t be a painful fit. You needed him inside of you. He didn’t say a word, rather he let out a loud moan at your panicked insistence and pressed his hips forward. At this angle it felt like he was in your stomach. Pain and pleasure melted together, a loud moan leaving your own mouth as you let your forehead press against the soft mattress. The pace that he immediately set had you gripping for dear life onto the blankets, the nicely made bed a mess in seconds. Austin kept one hand planted on the small of your back, the other one gripping hard at your thigh. You could feel the weight of his stare on your ass, and you somehow managed you twist your torso so that you could watch him. Seeing the expression on his face was enough to have you letting loose another moan. He was gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. His blue eyes were fully focused on you, eating up every jiggle of soft supple skin. You watched him pump in and out of you, reaching a hand back so that you could feel the assault. Your fingers ran along his length, slick from your own heat and his precum.

“Fuck.” He cursed again, his eyes flickering to your face. He removed his hand from your back, reaching out for you, leaning over your body so that he could grab your neck. He pulled you until your back was against his chest, still pistoning in and out of you. The hand that was on your thigh repositioned itself so that he could lift your leg, making it easier for him to fuck you at the same startling pace. He was using the height difference to his advantage. 

He squeezed down on your neck, his wet lips pressing against your cheek, the corner of your lips- anywhere he could reach. You were close. He had edged you enough in the elevator, and the angle was enough to have you gasping for air. “Not yet.” He must have felt your fluttering walls and known what was about to happen. You weren’t sure how long you could push off your climax. You shook your head quickly, your lips parted, eyes squeezing shut. He quickened his pace, his hips snapping into you. You could feel his moans rumbling in his chest, his breathy pants hot in your ear.

“Gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum-” You were past the point of being able to form coherent sentences.

“I wanna cum with you. I’m close.” There was something so endearingly intimate about the way that he said it. 

“Where do you want it? Tell me quick.” He breathed out. And maybe your decision made you stupid. Maybe Austin had fucked all of the common sense right out of your body, but your answer was immediate.

“Please for the love of god cum inside of me.” His grip on your throat tightened, and he breathed your name against the top of your head. “Fill me up. Please-”

“Oh fuck, I’m going to pump you full.” He spoke through clenched teeth. 

Without any warning the hand that was on your throat moved down, his palm pressing against your abdomen as he worked your clit. The stimulation along with the brutal way he was fucking you was enough to push you over the edge. You didn’t have time to silence yourself. Didn’t have time to try and be courteous to anyone else. Your moans turned to screams, your eyes closing tightly as he continued to pound into you. You felt him twitch inside of you, his hold on your thigh tightening to the point where you were sure to have a palm sized bruise there tomorrow. His warmth spilled inside of you, his heavy pants dissolving into moans. It was a string of curses, followed by your name. He took extra care with shaping each syllable of your name. He wanted you to know without really having to actually say it. 

Please don’t let this be a one time thing. Please- god. 

You woke up to the sound of your alarm clock, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside table so that you could press the snooze button. Austin grumbled at your side, his hold on your waist tightening. He had held you all throughout the night. He had been insistent on it, following you closely even when you moved in your sleep. You were scared that he might regret having sex with you in the light of day, but judging on the way he nuzzled his cheek against your bare skin, he didn’t regret a thing. You smiled lazily, reaching down to detach one of his arms from your stomach so that you could bring it up to your face, giving it a warm kiss. He sighed contentedly into your hair, returning the sweet sentiment by giving the back of your head a kiss. 

You were quick to check your phone notifications, wanting to make sure that your ex hadn’t found some way to harass you throughout the night. Thankfully you saw nothing from him- but a hundred messages from other people. Co-workers, friends- even family members had texted you. Ashley’s contact was the first one that you clicked on though- per usual. Your best friend had barraged you with texts throughout the night. Asking you how the ride up there was. Then asking you about the show. Somewhere around the twelve o’clock mark she had sent you a screenshot from instagram. From the person’s profile picture it looked like a regular girl- but right there, in the crowd, was you and Austin. 

You were quick to scroll down, clicking on one of the many links that she had sent you. 

“Austin Butler caught in a heavy makeout sesh with a mystery girl at the Las Vegas Artic Monkeys show.” “Who is Austin Butler’s mystery girlfriend? Read more to find out.” “Austin Butler caught locking lips with talented photographer friend.” And sure enough, people had been able to find you. Your instagram had been leaked, internet detectives able to find you within the timespan of less than twelve hours. You had old pictures of you and Austin posted from years ago, and so of course news outlets had uploaded those. 

“Um. . . Austin?” He grunted, and you were quick to try and detangle yourself from his arms. “L-Look at this.” You were quick to push the phone into his face. He tried to blink the sleep from his eyes, focusing on the words. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“They called you talented. That’s nice.”  “Good God, why are you like this?”

thank you for the emotional support, you sweet sluts: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @sournatromanoff @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

@knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

[pupyuj]

ena bestie 2 words

ROCKSTAR YUJIN

*runs*

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

GAWD... i absolutely love band aus i eat them up like crazy. also i'm mixing these asks together cuz why not! YUJIN COCK‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

listen... being her biggest fan and going to most of her band's live shows,, and you're always standing at the front with wide, shiny eyes just completely enamoured by yujin as she sings and plays her guitar,, and ofc you're cute asf so yujin takes notice of you and starts chatting you up after a small gig 🫣🫣 she's not subtle about the way she feels about you at all! from the way she constantly touched you, shot flirty remarks towards you, and looked you up and down several times... this girl wants to fuck you 😵‍💫 and who were you to say no when she asks you to come over her place???

see, yujin had this elaborate plan to get you drunk enough to submit to her but she didn't have to do anything to get you on your knees—in fact, you were the one who begged for yujin to use you as she pleases! ☺️ and since yujin found you so endearing, she gives you what you have always wanted 😳 literally having hearts in your eyes once yujin takes off her pants and lets you pull down her boxers,, "can you take it, baby?" she would ask while petting your head mmmfhsjfjdkf 😵‍💫

you looked like the cutest whore to her,, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you jacked her off, hands clumsily working on her cock while she stared down at you with a smile,, oh she's got you figured out—you have never done this before, have you? 🫣 yujinnie thinking that the best way to learn was to go all the way immediately, so she grabs your jaw, tells you to open up your mouth (which you obliged immediately without question bcs you're a slut), and before you knew it, you were gagging around your favorite guitarist's cock,,

choking on her dick as you tried your best to get used to the feeling :((( yujinnie not really caring if you were having a hard time breathing bcs despite everything, your mouth felt so right on her :((( she keeps thrusting and thrusting into your mouth, each one hitting deeper than the last. her moans and your gags being the only things heard in the apartment,, "good girl, there you go..." yujin says when you started to move your head on your own,, looking up at her with glossy eyes,, "doing so good, baby... keep going." and then she grabs a fistful of your hair and starts helping you take all of her cock once again,, 🫠🫠

forcing her length down your throat, ignoring the way you gripped her thighs and your pained cries,, and soon enough you were crying, tears running down your cheeks, messing up your makeup and everything ☹️ yujinnie smirking down at the sight, "what? you're crying? didn't you want this?" and suddenly she was so mean?? glaring at you when you started to tap out, "you're not stopping until i come, whore. do your work." she says harshly, once again ignoring the way you whined in resistance,, and soon enough, she would be holding your head still with both her hands, thrusting her hips into your face, groaning and muttering curses as she used your mouth :((((

"g-gonna be a good girl, yeah? you're gonna swallow all my cum... and maybe then i'll breed that slutty pussy of yours, hm?"

mmdnhsjdjdjf definitely forces you to stay still as she dumps her cum down your throat,, but she pulls out in the middle of her climax just to jerk herself off and paint your pretty face with her cum,, and god you were such a slut that you stuck your tongue out to catch some of her semen, so fucking addicted to the way she tastes... 🫠 ofc yujin was a woman of her words, so as soon as she snapped a photo of your cum-covered face on her phone, she grabbed you by your hair and dragged you to her bedroom, throwing you onto the bed, and ripping your shorts and panties off so she could destroy your cunt 😵‍💫😵‍💫 yujinnie breeding you until her seed is oozing out of your pussy from the amount of times she came inside you.. gawd 🤤

[damiannasworld]

BoJere week, day 3: Confession/realizing they're in love.

This definitely happened during the Nordic Tour. 👀 Something shifted the night after Tavastia 2.0 (the start of the famous laundry saga) and nothing can change my mind. Bojan was acting like a love sick puppy afterwards. 🫠

"We are brothers... And maybe something more." - Jere at Tavastia, 20.09.23

A short fic under the cut. 🤭

Say It Again

The laughter was filling the air when they stumbled across the door into Jere's apartment. They'd had an amazing gig at Tavastia and afterwards they had decided to party all night long. It was the reunion they'd been looking forward for three months already after all.

Jere tripped on a chair and fell on the floor, some Finnish curse words coming out from his mouth. He had definitely been drinking too much and was now suffering from the consequences.

"Come on, you can't just lay there!"

Bojan grabbed Jere's hand and tried to lift him up. But he was pretty wasted too so it was easier said than done. Instead of getting Jere up he fell down himself as well, landing right in top of him.

Bojan's breath was getting shallow when he stared Jere straight in the eyes. Chest against chest felt nice. A little bit too nice. Encouraged by the alcohol and Jere's hand draped behind his back he pressed his nose against Jere's, their lips almost touching.

Bojan couldn't wait a moment longer. He kissed Jere with an enthusiam, getting an eager respond in return. He moved his lips onto Jere's neck, right below his earlobe.

"Ljubim te."

Almost silent confession escaped from Bojan's lips. It surprised even the man himself and he rolled his body off from Jere, sitting on a floor, puzzled about what had just happened.

---

They spent the rest of the tour like nothing was going on, having the times of their lives. But something had shifted inside Bojan. He was absolutely beaming. He couldn't get enough of Jere's company. There were constant touches and looks which made even his band mates suspicious.

After the final gig in Tampere they celebrated the successful tour by going into the sauna and a karaoke bar afterwards.

They were having meaningful conversations about their lives and careers but Bojan left one thing out. It wasn't the time or place to bring up the kiss and the sudden love confession.

But the time for that came later when they ended up in Bojan's hotel room, just the two of them. They were tipsy and bubbly but not as much as the first night.

Bojan guided Jere sitting on the edge of the bed with him. Jere was waiting with a questioning look on his face, noticing something was bothering Bojan.

"So... How much do you remember about the first night, after Tavastia? In your apartment."

He started nervously, biting his lip. Jere scooted closer to him, placing his hand over Bojan's cheek.

"Well, I remember you were on top of me. And I'm pretty sure we were doing this."

Jere closed the gap between them and started kissing him, smiling a little at the same time. Bojan pulled back for a moment because he still had something to ask.

"Do you remember what I said to you?"

His gaze was full of nervousness.

"I think it was something in Slovenian. I didn't understand."

Bojan cupped Jere's face with his hands.

"I said 'ljubim te'. Do you know what it means?"

"Not really. But I think I can guess."

He grabbed Bojan's palm and gave it a couple of small kisses.

"Can you?"

"Yes. And I love you too."

Bojan was about to melt in the spot. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Say it again, please."

"I love you. Rakastan sua."

Jere sealed his confession with a soft kiss. Bojan felt like he was in heaven.

[tellodona]

silly little om request if you don’t mind

om brothers with an mc who tends to overheat/gets sensory issues from clothes so they just tend to walk around in their underwear, usually they’d do it in their room but this time they weren’t bothered enough to put anything on so they just like walked into the living room or something

can be male mc can be gender neutral up to you

and happy new year btw _(┐「ε:)_

i don't mind at all ! and happy new years to you as well !

the brothers with an mc who has heat sensory issues

heads up: gn!mc, slightly suggestive in asmo's (expected, really)

lucifer

he's busy as he usually is in his study, naturally, but he'd of course stand up and leave for a while to do something. maybe get something to eat or drink or make sure half of the house hasn't burnt down to the ground yet

as he exits, he passes by the living room and nods to himself when he peeks in that it's still in shape, the fire still crackling in the fireplace, you in your underwear, the couches are still there-

wait

mc, why are you in your underwear???????

he does a double take, blinks like three times

oh diavolo, you are in your underwear

he doesn't even think much how it would affect him, he's more or less concerned about you since it was a colder weather today

"mc, why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

he would confront you with the most confused face ever, but there was still a frown

be glad he was the one who found you and you're in the house of lamentation, because if lesser demons-

oh, you have sensory issues

he stops himself from talking for a while

after a minute, he nods in understanding

humans do have a different body construction, after all

but he can't just have you walking around the house in your underwear and ushers you to go back to your room

as soon as you wake up in the morning, you'd find the house a little colder, your uniform loosely fitted, and a message in the group chat about installing air conditioning

mammon

he just got home from his modeling gig in majolish, and they gave him a few bags as samples from his photoshoot

he is totally going to show them to his favorite human!

bags in hand, he trudges to your room with a wide grin

a few steps away, the door suddenly opens and you walk out

he was about to greet you when he looks down

oh his face is red

"MC!!!!!!!! YOU DUMB HUMAN!!!!!!!!"

as if he was running for his life, he dashes to you and pushes you back in your room and closes the door behind him

it was like his whole body was boiling from embarrassment

"wear something, for devil's sake!"

he has the back of his hand on his eyes, and is looking away, his face red

the both of you are just standing still

he isn't looking at you at all

"are ya done or what?????"

he hasn't heard you move

you carefully explain to him why you're just in your underwear

oh

he gulps, then he feels the bags from majolish beside his feet

he kicks them towards you

"check them if they're comfortable... o- of course! you'll owe the GREAT mammon for this one!"

they were absolutely comfortable, i'm imagining mammon naturally taller than you as a demon, so the clothes are a little bigger than you

if you thank him, he'll go "obviously, this is something your f- first man should do! thank me a ton!" and he still haven't looked you in the eye

tomorrow, he brings you to a tailor to resize your rad uniform

he'll always bring a mini fan everywhere you both go

leviathan

this man hasn't left his room in weeks probably

it's time for the super secret mission!

mission: get food from the kitchen without being seen!

he tiptoes out of his room, closes his door as quietly as possible and-

slams right into you

the both of you fall to the ground, him right on top of you

o. m. D! is this that trope where the mc and the love interest bump into each other and have a romantic look into each other-

"i- i- i- i'm so sorry, mc! i didn't-"

he looks down and realizes

he SCREECHES

jumps right off of you, like, this man at least jumps five feet in the air as he does so

maybe because they're used to it, the brothers didn't even think of checking in on him

this man is crying

and is also a blushing mess

he keeps repeating sorry over and over that you had to shake his shoulders to get him to listen to you

you explain in simple details about why you're in your underwear and make sure he's getting everything into his head

he stops for a moment, and nods slowly

he understands how you feel, he himself has his own sensory issues too, and a little surprised his friend is the same way

"s- still... i'm sorry, mc..."

after he got his food and drinks, he spent the whole night researching and sewing

you wake up to a pile of clothes on your desk

satan

is in the library reading god knows what

he's very into whatever he's reading, but he hears light foot steps entering the library

knowing it's you, he greets you before looking up at you

he errors

he slams his book right onto his face, you could see the tips of his ears tinged red

"m- mc... why aren't you wearing anything?" you could barely hear his muffled voice

you mention why

he still hasn't put the book down

"i- i see..."

he slowly stands up, book still in his face, and walks out of the library (he trips like three times), once he's out, he puts away the book and dashes to his room

he spends the whole day studying

when you were finished doing whatever you needed to do in the library, the atmosphere felt a little colder

your phone pinged with a notification in the group chat with "we'll be experiencing human world winter for a while" "what"

asmodeus

was actually looking for you

you're not in your room, you're not in his room, you're not in the library-

just where are you, mc?!

he passes by the music room and sees a lone figure inside, in their underwear

? huh

what's a lesser demon half-naked doing in their-

oh, it's you

...

IT'S YOU

"mc, what are you doing here? i've been looking all over for you!"

he whines as he goes to you, but wears a sly smile and a cute blush on his face

"why are you in your underwear, hm?"

he leans closer, but is in a comfortable distance still in case you might pull away

you explain to him about it

his mouth goes o and nods in understanding

"is that so, mc? you should've told me!"

he practically drags you to his room and looks through his stacks and stacks of oils, lotions, literally anything

you're now holding five bottles of cold-feeling lotion, three stacks of clothing, hair pins, hair clips and hair ties

"hm... i think those are too little..." they're too much

just tell him if you ran out, mc! he'll personally scavenge the entire devildom for every stock!

before you know it, majolish is advertising oversized clothes

beelzebub

he just got home from his morning jog, sweat all over him

he's so hungry... maybe sneaking in a bite before breakfast wouldn't hurt...

he sees you in the kitchen wearing nothing but your underwear

oh, and you're also sweaty

his cheeks tint red a little, as he looks away, embarrassed

he clears his throat, "oh, uhm... did you also work out, mc?"

maybe

you'll explain to him while you hand him a sandwich

he munches on the sandwich, before nodding slowly

"oh... is it like food overcooking?"

...?????

nobody knows the answer to that, chat

you just nodded and went about your day

from then on, you start to notice beel always offering you a bottle of water every time you see each other

he also brings a cup of ice cream with him and somehow it doesn't melt and he only ate like a spoon of it before giving it to you

belphegor

he can't sleep peacefully

so he snuck out when beel was snoring, and went to the planetarium

he sees you sitting on the pile of comforter and pillows he set up and he grinned

oh, he's definitely going to sleep-

where are your clothes.

he physically stops, mouth open

you only turn to see he's there when he drops his favorite pillow on the ground

he's malfunctioning

"mc... where the hell are you clothes??"

his cheeks are bright red

doesn't even look away because of the shock

you explain it to him as much as possible because he looks like he's about to drop dead

"oh... huh."

he hesitantly sits down beside you

"so... what do you do about it? just walk around butt-naked?"

you end up talking about it the whole night until he just falls asleep on your lap

you wake up to find him missing, but a fan is by your body

this was so fun to write !

[in-hav3n]

all I can think about is James (1996 James or current James) and phone sex. both of you just getting off to each other's voices because you haven't seen each other in so long and both of you are just so needy. OH LORDY I CANT 🤭

𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐗

WARNINGS : NSFW - sex scene - masturbation

I can already hear his voice on the line, saying the most naughtiest things to you 🤭 but they'd do it differently.

Let's start with 1996 James. If you have seen "Cunning stunts" (i recommended it to you if you don't yet) or any shows from that era, you know well then how crazy, excited and ecstatic James is at a gig. He's sometimes drunk, screaming, singing and running around all around the stage, even coming closer to the public to rock hard with them. So he'd be in the same mood when he'll have you on the phone right after, chatting for a while about the usual stuffs before going straight to what he would have loved right now if you were on tour with him.

He'd tell you first "I miss my pretty baby - I wish you were there, completely naked in my bed so I could take care of you" and you'd answer with moans, hearing his low and feverish voice before asking him to tell you how exactly he'd take care of you. And James would give you all the details about how he'd make you feel so good with his mouth, his hands, his tongue and then his cock.

And things will be even more intense as soon as he'll discover you're touching yourself on the other line. He'd ask you, or even beg you, to confess loud what you'd want him to do. "I want your cock inside me, I miss you so much James - I want to feel you - I want you to give it to me" He'd end jerking off too, as you would be both sharing about what you'd like to do on each others body until you both came hard. Moans, groans, gasps and whimpers can be heard on the line. James would be the first to come, gig's adrenaline had given him a hard boner he needed to fulfill. You'd cum after when he'll tell you that you are good girl for him...

For current James - my! Here's the hot idea I have on my mind...

James told you once how much he missed your presence and touch during tour so you decided to surprise him with some nudes first. Nothing too explicit tough. You exposed some parts of your body, his favorites of course, in casual or explicite poses and nothing else. But tonight - or this morning for him due to the jet lag - you want to try something new...

James is far from home for a month now because of "M72 tour" and you miss him a lot. You've never been separated for so long and let's be honest, you also miss his touch. You call him then on camera and you already drool when you saw him with his sleepy face, chest half covered with the covers. He is still in bed and he is absolutely adorable.

You talk for a while about tour and life at home when suddenly James would say, raising a brow, "I see you're wearing a very nice nightie. Never saw this one. Is that a new one ?".

You'd giggle, pursing your lips with an enticing attitude. "Mmh maybe". The you'd show him with the camera, moving your phone to show him what you are wearing exactly.

"Oh baby...", he lazily said, admiring you. "You just wake up the beast" he teases with a low giggle, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Did I?". He'd grin and move his phone as well, slowly pull off the covers, exposing his boxer and soon his semi-hard dick. "Oh James !" you'd laugh, biting your lip. This simple vision making you more horny than you already are.

"Now you'll have to help me. You're responsible for that". You notice how hard he gets, how his cock twitches and just get an idea. You change the camera to sit down on the floor, in front of your bedroom big mirror. You then open your legs to show him you're wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

"Naughty little girl... You did all that on purpose, didn't you?".

"Don't you like it ?", you'd start to tease him, slowly sliding your fingers along your pussy lips, letting out a lazily moan as your fingers slowly approach your entrance.

"God baby, that's absolutely erotic", James mutters as you notice his left arm moving lazily in a well-known movement. "Don't stop playing with yourself...do it for me".

You'd do as he asked. Your index slowly makes tight circles around your clit, with a lazy pace before teasing more your entrance by thrusting one then two fingers inside, your mouth letting out gasps of pleasure. "Are you touching yourself too ?".

"Look how hard I am just for you...", he'd move his camera again to show you his hard dick, his hand wrapping it with his thumb on his swollen red tip. You'd whimper of surprise and arousal, not even thinking this would have given him such a boner. "I wish you could put your pretty mouth on it baby..."

"Oh...", you moan, "I wish I could be next to yo on my four, sucking your perfect old dick...". You'd both moan and groan at your sentence and keep touching yourselves, watching intensively the camera. "Tell me what you'd like to do to my little pussy James".

James moves on his bed to be more comfortable and places his phone straight, near his balls, so you'll see him from the front, stroking himself in a frantic pace, big hand around his manhood. "I want to eat this pretty pussy of yours. I want to taste it cause the taste is so sweet...I bet you're completely wet now"

"Oh god...", you'd purr and whimper, fingering yourself even harder with sloppy movements, you hand hitting hard your skin as you feel good sensations running through your body. "James...".

"Yes baby girl...?", he'd hum with his low voice, stroking himself harder too cause he'd feel his orgasm coming. His voice is really hypnotic and vibrates thought your entire body.

"Oh it feel so good...I want your cock to be inside me now, pouding hard into me like this..." and you showed him with your hands how you dream of it.

"Tell me how much you want it", he groans as jerking off faster, you'd hear him pant at every movement. Your fingers move in a fervent way inside you as feel this familiar pleasure knot building inside your core, ready to explode at any moment if you focus on it. But for now, you just want to enjoy this pleasure pulling inside you.

"I want it...I need it...", you'd moan, with your eyes closed like if you were saying a prayer. James' voice were enough to guide you over your orgasm as well as his words. He knew how much you love his dirty talk...

"That's it...keep fingering you hard babygirl. Imagine this is my fat old cock filling you up, imagine how I'd pound so hard into you...on your four, this is exactly what you love right?"

"Oh my god...", you suddenly cry out of pleasure, feeling that a few more pumps would be enough to make you explode. James knows you well and understands he's doing it right. And he knows exactly what arouses you the most. Helped by his words, you mind plays a movie of your previous sex sessions and you start to see the most erotic scenes : you sucking James off, you being eating out by him or even you being rammed on your four like he told you.

"I'm thrusting so hard into your tight wet pussy...I'll cum so hard inside you...". James doesn't need to say more, you soon cum hard. You gasp loud of pleasure, a flame of desire and pleasure burning hard inside your lower belly as your fingers move faster, pouding deeper into you. Even it if lasts a few seconds, the sensation is strong and hit you hard, making your legs shake a little and your entire body shiver.

Your orgasm is enough to boost his own desire. James closed his eyes and leans comfortably against the mattress as his hand stroke his hard dick faster. He looked back at his phone again and seeing you this way pushes him deeper. He can't believe how hot you are and the images he had depicted you also play in his head like a porn movie until he finally releases his seed on his stomach, with steady strokes, groaning and letting out guttural moans for your own pleasure.

You look at him with a feverish glance, biting your lip as you were recovering from your own orgasm. God, you couldn't believe how hot he was and how you succeeded to put him in that state. Well, he succeeded too and the mess between your legs is a solid evidence of his success. James pants hard, releasing the last drop of his cum in a hoarse deep grunt as contemplating the mess on his stomach.

"Are you okay baby?", you'd ask him with a big smile on your face, still feeling high after your climax. James takes a few more seconds to catch his breath, panting hard, and finally nods at you.

"Gosh, you're gonna be the death of me", he chuckles as searching for something to clean his stomach but sadly, he can't find any. "Damn, I thought I had something on my bedside table to clean myself..."

You'd giggle as closing your sore legs, choosing the selfie mode on your phone now. "So sad I'm not there to help you..."

James looks at you with a serious gaze and you can tell by his gaze that he just got an idea. "You know what ? Take the first plane, I want you with me, tonight"

A/N : Thank you sweet anon for your ask ! Phone sex is absolutely hot idea, hope you'll like it!

[mogoce-nocoj]

extensive gig reports, Berlin 12.03.24 + Leipzig 13.03.24 💕

they got kinda long oops

Berlin

queue curse: missed jure walking by and nace and kris laughing at the queue for turning up the volume of cha cha cha because of looking for a public toilet and getting food respectively 🫠

jc stewart also walked by like four? times and people only started noticing around the third time or something, sorry jc stewart

bojan said that they love playing in smaller venues during soundcheck which made me laugh because of the downgraded berlin venue

kris ngvot but he looked so unenthusiastic about it and only did it after talking to bojan who I guess talked him into it? sorry kris, you were amazing though

bojan loved the shirt @zadig-fate made for him ❤️ he's such a nerd for being obsessed with eurotrip and was so excited to be like “this is a eurotrip quote!!!” lmao

bojan got a harmonica, said he couldn't play it, and then still played the wedding march on it because of course he was able to do that

bojan's slut leather(?) shirt 🫠 I hope damon suggested he should wear it because you could see his chest very well and he was moving so much and jfc

ended up on kris's side and since this was a no barrier stage he and his pants and ass were so close to me that I felt awkward directly looking at him 😭

jan just doing jan stuff. annoying jure and hitting his cymbals. casually sitting down onto the piano chair during umazane misli while continuing to play the guitar. this guy I swear

bojan got so emotional during EW that it actually made me emotional too. and the panic attack cheer 😂

the fact that the song can stay “schlager” for us german audiences and bojan yapping something about imagining that we're at an old people birthday party or something idk

the guys were very confused about the berlin flag 😂 jan was kinda holding it, very unsure, then went over to kiki, then went over to nace and they were just kind of. looking at the flag and then jan turned to kris and mouthed "berlin??" and kris signalled him a yes which was very funny

just. the vibes of the crowd. everyone was so respectful and we genuinely had an amazing energy. berlin crowd I love you so much

vita said they got the stage measurements beforehand and knew that racik's art wouldn't fit on the stage lmao. she's also super sweet and so easy to talk to. love u vita thanks for all the photos (selfishly glad she's pausing her studies for this)

hugged teya before she had to leave and didn't get to talk to nace and kris but managed to catch jan afterwards and had him sign in my gig book and it was? such a nice crowd? everyone was waiting and chatting for a bit and then when we were all finished jan was hovering there a bit awkwardly before saying bye and leaving. it was amazing and so chill (again. berlin crowd I love you.)

Leipzig

jure was walking by and we waved and a person turned around to see who we were waving at and let out a very loud “oh my god” after spotting jure. absolutely hilarious, we all burst out laughing

while the queue was being organised, kris, jc stewart with jure, vita, and nace behind them were walking down the street next to the queue and nace waved at us but no one paid attention (busy with the queue) so he kinda. stopped lmao

literally like ten minutes after that, jan seemed to try catching up to them but didn't know where to go so he just stared very intently at his phone and stopped in the middle of the street, turned left and walked right by us, then apparently went to far and had to turn back. top ten janči moments

kris walked into the soundcheck with a mug in his hand and left pretty quickly again after soundcheck was finished, he's just so funny to me

bojan said that it was a nice change that the EA crowd were mostly germans which like. ok.

the boys came down to us to talk and take pics with us after the soundcheck??? so nice of them but it confused the hell out of me (I wasn't prepared and was very intimidated by suddenly having a bojan directly in front of me)

a friend I was with asked bojan about the jo travel curse and munich because it's been horrible at least for us living in germany (snow chaos for munich, snow chaos when trying to travel to esns in january, train strike on the day of the berlin gig) and he just kinda forgot about munich until he was like “oh yeah right. it was still an amazing gig though.” 🥺

okay so. now we come to what was an absolutely insane concert

first we saw the eyeliner jure pic and went “oh my god??” and then he actually came on stage like that and we lost it. and then bojan came on stage with that lace shirt and we lost it again. not kidding when I say my favourite insane moment was me turning around to grip @itskrejsaitsparty's hand as I was trying to comprehend what I was seeing. Just. jfc.

bojan asked who had never been to a JO gig before and from what I could see it was around 50%? so there were a lot of new people which is probably also one reason why the energy was insane like that

bojan couldn't stop holding his belt and thrusting his hips, what the fuck 🫠

since I was in the middle I was also privvy to many cute jance looks and moments, they really are just like that on stage

the nace solo because someone requested a bass solo?? and how nace started and everyone joined and then bojan's “let's go nace” just. what even was happening at that point

everything surrounding metulji. first bojan giving jan that pic to “get him in the mood.” jan pretending to kiss it. it falling down making us all giggle and bojan already being on the brink of losing it and then losing it completely and jan stopping to just play different chords on the piano while bojan was trying to get it together. we really broke him 😭 and he was trying so hard to get back into the sad metulji mood and then he apologised for it afterwards like “i'm sorry this was so unprofessional of me” like dude. the was the best moment I've ever seen on stage

bojan was so keyed up that when kiki came to him to switch guitars he just bounced around him and started saying stuff to kiki and leaned his face towards him (I wouldn't be surprised if he expected another cheek kiss but shhhhh)

bojan AGAIN because he was jumping over the barrier and back on stage right next to me after umazane misli and I was like. what do I do. Do I, like, help him??? Can he do it by himself??? what if he topples over and I'm right next to him. Gah. In the end I just pressed myself back into @braveheart1418, stared at the back of bojan's lace shirt in slight horror and let Kiki do his thing 🫠 (I need a bojči break now I'm too anxious for any of this)

the gig went by so quickly because of all the stuff that happened that it was such a surprise when they said it was nearly over

I literally sank onto the floor after the gig because I couldn't understand what had just happened. so many memorable moments. I'm glad everyone just went down onto the floor with me, love you ❤️

everyone (except kris) came out to talk and take pics afterwards but bojan left quickly because of his health. and also, you know. damon baker. what a sweetheart. with all the stuff that happened, being able to talk to him about his art was such a lovely moment and I still can't believe that he was there

In the most funniest turn of events I managed to have everyone including damon baker sign in my gig book except for kris which is hilarious to me and so very fitting for him

I'm still trying process everything that happened but thank you so much to everyone I met and talked to and who made stuff for me, in particular @zadig-fate, @izpira-se-zlato, @braveheart1418, @esskuesli, @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare and @itskrejsaitsparty 💕💕💕

[dreamwatch]

What a way to make a livin'

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May warm-up round.

Prompt: Get a job | Word Count: 992 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Tags: they're idiots, first jobs, banter, angst free zone! | AO3

****

Being the youngest often meant being the last to do things within his peer group.

He was the last to get a driver’s license, so they fell into a routine of Eddie and Jeff driving them everywhere. Long tiring drive after a gig? Not for Gareth. He’s sleeping in the back, thank you very much.

He knows Jeff and Eddie have lost their virginity, because all they ever fucking do is talk about it. Gareth’s still on the waiting list for that particular life experience. (Matt is secretive at the best of times so the jury is out there.)

And of course, he was the last to graduate. He felt so guilty about that because they waited for him, even Eddie, who was living off cigarettes and caffeine and desperate to get the fuck away from a place where people still wanted him dead. 

Despite all that, somehow Gareth was the first to get a job when they moved to Indianapolis. Maybe it was his winsome charm, or his youthful good looks, or perhaps it was because he wasn’t as fussy as the three fucking princesses he lives with now.

So yeah, it’s a Taco Bell, not something to shout about, but it’s a fucking job, okay? Rent in Indy is absolutely insane, even for their shitty two-bed apartment in a shitty neighbourhood, and they’re burning through the money they saved to get here. Eddie managed to get them a couple of gigs lined up, but only one is paying and it’s not paying much. They’ll be lucky to have enough to buy a round of beers. Not that he’s old enough to drink one. Officially.

Has Gareth been cagey about where he works? Fuck yes; he wanted to delay the inevitable shit he was going to get from Huey, Dewy and Louie. He couldn’t avoid them forever but if he could just get through the first couple of weeks…

His back is turned when the bell above the door chimes and when he spins around he’s wearing his best customer service smile.

“Hi, welcome to Taco— oh fuck me.”

“Is that on the menu?” says Eddie with a shit-eating grin. He approaches the counter and slaps his hands down on it, while Jeff, the traitor, stands beside him laughing.

Gareth leans forward across the counter and hisses, “You can’t be here, assholes. Fuck off.”

“Now, now,” says Eddie gleefully, “that’s no way to talk to a customer.”

“You’re not a customer!”

“I could be.”

“Are you gonna buy anything?”

“Depends.” Eddie gets his battered wallet out, the same one he’s had since high school when Gareth was a freshman. “What can I get for… sixty-seven cents?”

Gareth halfway turns and points at the menu above him. “Pintos and cheese. Or a Mountain Dew. Take your pick. And quickly.” 

Eddie’s lip curls in disgust, and Gareth’s about to tell them both to fuck off when the familiar tinkle of the bell chimes again and finally, a paying customer, but… no, of course not. Because now Matt’s here to give him more shit. And just why fucking not at this point?

He’s so going to get fired.

“I thought you said you worked in a restaurant?” Matt sneers. 

“This is a restaurant,” Gareth replies, his patience hanging by a fucking thread. 

“Ah, no, it’s a Taco Bell.”

“Which is part of a chain of restaurants.” He can see his manager hovering on the other side of the kitchen; if he loses his job on the first week then fuck ‘em, he’s going back to Hawkins because he’s already sick of ramen noodles. 

He’s not going back to Hawkins.

“Do you get an employee discount?”

“No, Jeffrey, I do not.”

“It’s definitely not a restaurant.”

“Jesus Christ, will you all just please leave? How did you even know where I worked?”

Eddie’s still checking his wallet for hidden coins. “The shitty brown uniform on the floor of your room was a dead giveaway.” He looks up and points at Gareth’s chest. “You know it says Taco Bell right there?”

“Is there a problem over here?”

Fuck. Gareth’s boss, Kenny, a guy who can’t have been out of high school for much longer than he has, wanders over eyeing the Three Amigos suspiciously. 

Jeff grabs his own wallet. “Actually, your employee, ” he leans forward squinting at Gareth’s chest dramatically, “Gareth here, was helping us choose from your menu.” Jeff leans forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “I look after these guys, take them out for the day sometimes. They’re a little…” he taps his temple, “you know?” 

“Hey!” shouts Eddie. It takes everything Gareth’s got not to laugh.

Kenny’s glare softens as he looks between Matt and Eddie. “Right, yeah, I see it now.”

“Mother fu— ow!”

“It’s really great what you’re doing, man,” says Kenny. “Order whatever you like, it’s on the house.” Before he heads back to the kitchen he pats Gareth on the shoulder. “Great job.”

Matt shoves Jeff in the back. “What the fuck was that?”

“Got you free food, didn’t it?”

Gareth bags up their orders. “Now go home. Actually, don’t go home - go and look for a job, all of you!”

Matt snatches his bag and turns with a hurried “See ya later” which Gareth doesn’t even get a chance to reply to. Eddie, mouth full of Mountain Dew, waves a hand before heading toward the door. 

Jeff lingers for a second. “Proud of you, man.”

Gareth can’t keep the smile off his face. It’s just a stupid job, but it’s his first. And if the band takes off, hopefully, please please god, the last. 

He’s about to serve his next customer when he hears Eddie singing at the top of his voice.

“She works hard for the money, duh de duh, so hard for it honey, duh de duh…”

“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath. “Oh, sorry, ma’am, not you. Uh… can I take your order?”

****

Did I look for an 80's Taco Bell menu to see what Eddie could get for sixty-seven cents? Yes, yes I did.

And let's gloss over the fact that Freak was Ben in my last fic... I'm trying out names, I'll retcon everything afterwards. 😂