#professional musician: check

[generalmusicmadness]

from iii's instagram story

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

Thinking about how many people Hannibal would have to kill to cater his and Will's wedding reception. Like, he'd take out a whole orchestra bc he thought they played Music for 18 Musicians too quickly. Or the entire staff of a grocery store that ran out of fresh tarragon. Or every single person who laughed at them in middle school.

[luvsupa]

“YOU’RE A STAR!”

tags: musician!choso x manager fem!reader, reader has a secret fan account, both are in 20, choso has lots of tattoos and is an r&b singer, he has piercings, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), sub!choso (ish), voyeurism, etc. mdni.

w.c: 3,2k

a/n: YALL I’m almost at 2k LIKE THATS INSANEEEE!! TY GUYS SOSOS MUCHHH AHHH

+ erm if there’s errors lmkk

you sit in choso’s expansive dressing room, surrounded by his makeup and fashion assistants, eyes glued to the big screen as he finishes his final song of the concrrt. the sound of thousands of screaming fans fills the air, their voices blending with his deep, angelic one. even from back here, you can hear the unmistakable roar of the crowd, hanging onto every note he sings. the way he commands the stage, the way he moves—everything about him makes your chest tighten.

he looks unreal tonight, his stylist outdid themselves. the subversive, edgy look suits him perfectly, especially the ripped wife-beater that showcases his inked arms, gleaming under the stage lights. the body glitter you suggested—yeah, that was definitely a good call- catches the light in all the right ways, making him look out of this world.

you’re supposed to be his manager, maintaining some form of professionalism, but damn, it’s impossible when he looks this good. especially when he runs his hand through those messy brown locks , letting a few strands fall over his face. you bite your lip, trying to focus on anything but the way your heart races when he’s on stage.

the thought of professionalism slips even further when you pull out your phone, dimming the brightness low. not for work—no, not tonight. instead, you open the app you use to connect with his fanbase under your secret username.

chogetsmewetter

it still makes you smirk every time you see it. his fans had been relentless, trying to bribe you for the username. but it’s yours, and you're not giving it up for anyone.

chogetsmewetter: are u guys seeing how good he looks… need him immediately

responses flood in almost instantly.

chososwhore: baby, nobody wants him more than i do…

choochoo: y’all send videos of the concert plzzz :(

kamosbaby: my baby daddy lookin good on stage.

you’re too caught up in scrolling through the candid photos and fan reactions, smiling like an idiot, when the makeup assistant catches you off guard.

“what’s got you smiling like that?” she teases, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

you quickly shove your phone into your pocket, plastering on your best fake smile. “just checking cho’s schedule for next week. his brothers want to surprise him at the last show.”

it’s a lie, of course, but you’re used to spinning quick stories, and she just shrugs, moving on. but not without another jab. “girl, you love calling him cho, don’t you? does he let you call him that in bed too?”

your eyes widen as choso’s fashion designer giggles along with her. “guys, nothing’s going on. we’re strictly business—i manage his schedule, and that’s it.” but the words taste bitter, even as you force them out. nothing more. yeah, right.

the deafening cheers from the TV rescue you from any more teasing. all eyes turn to the screen as choso wraps up, thanking the crowd with that deep, velvet voice of his. the camera zooms in on his face, his lips curling into a soft smile as he waves and blows kisses to the adoring fans. gosh, he’s perfect.

a few moments later, the dressing room doors swing open, and there he is. choso, in the flesh, followed by his bodyguards. his team erupts in cheers, swarming him with praise, but you move to the back in the corner, blending into the background. moments like this are too chaotic for you, but you know you’ll have your moment later, probably on the tour bus.

amidst the chaos, his eyes find you, and he frowns a little when he sees you typing away on your phone, oblivious to the world. he doesn't know, of course, that you're replying to posts about him.

before you can finish your latest message, you feel him standing right in front of you, towering over you. the air feels thick between you two, and you curse internally as you slip your phone into your pocket once again, heart racing.

“you forgetting something?” his voice is low, teasing, as he glances down at your hands.

you quickly shake your head, trying to play it cool. “c’mon, cho, you know i’d never survive in that crowd,” you say, nodding toward the gaggle of team still dying for his attention.

his hands, cold from the stage, slide into yours, pulling you just a little closer. you swallow hard. “i knowww, but your support matters the most outta all of ‘em,” he says, rocking slightly, his lips curling into that perfect half-smile. the one that makes your stomach flip.

he smells incredible, the scent of his unreleased cologne wrapping around you, making your head spin. you smile, turning away, but he moves with you, trying to catch a glimpse of that smile.

“c’mon, let’s grab dinner. my director’s waiting,” he says, releasing your hands, and you instantly frown, missing his touch.

you follow him and his bodyguards out, offering a quick farewell to the makeup and fashion team. they don’t miss the chance to wink at you, clearly still enjoying the teasing.

as you near the exit, the noise outside grows louder—fans desperate to catch one last glimpse of choso. this is the part of the night you dread, knowing how insane the crowd can get. but when he looks over his shoulder and gives you that grin, the chaos doesn’t seem so bad.

two guards swing open the doors, harsh light flooding in as flashes from cameras blind you instantly. the screams grow deafening, and you brace yourself. this is always the worst part—being unable to see, disoriented, as the paparazzi go wild trying to capture every inch of choso’s presence.

but choso? he thrives in this. he’s in his element, beaming as he dives straight into the crowd. signing albums, posing for photos, accepting gifts—he eats it all up. you trail behind one of his bodyguards, eyes flickering to where he’s standing. your heart clenches as you catch sight of him—his lips locked with a fan.

you swallow hard. it’s not the first time. he always does this with her—his so-called “number one fan.” he remembers her face, her name, every single time. each time he kisses her in front of his adoring crowd, it feels like a punch to the gut. the fans love it. the media laps it up, turning her into a minor celebrity among his fandom.

how do you know? through your secret fan account.

you scoff quietly to yourself as you slip past the crowf, making it safely onto the tour bus. heading straight for the private area at the back, you drop your bag onto one of the leather couches, sinking into the seat by the window. from here, you can still see him outside, giving the fans hugs, taking endless photos. you watch in silence, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

finally, after what feels like forever, choso steps onto the bus, breathless and flushed. he walks down the aisle toward you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“fuckkk, they’re amazing,” he groans, collapsing onto the couch beside you, still riding the high from the crowd.

they’re amazing? or she’s amazing…

you force a smile, eyes glued to your phone. “you looked like you were having fun, choso,” you mutter, distracted by your personal texts. his head drops back with a groan. one thing he can’t stand is when you don’t give him your full attention.

before he can start whining, one of the fashion designers calls your name from the front of the bus. you sigh, getting up quickly to see what the issue is. in your rush, you leave your phone behind on the couch.

choso watches as you walk away, eyes narrowing when he sees your phone lying there. you never leave it behind, always keeping it close, and curiosity gnaws at him. his leg bounces as he contemplates it. fuck it.

he snatches your phone up, eyes widening as the first thing he sees on your notification center is all he need to see.

[chogetsmewetter] new like from choochoo and 100+ others:

I need to fuck choso nowww, he’s so fuckin hot it’s not fairrr.

damn.

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. so that’s why you’ve been acting weird. he sets your phone back down just as he hears your footsteps returning.

you return, completely unaware of what just happened. “choso, they said we can’t leave until another hour—” you start to explain, but he’s not listening. his thoughts are elsewhere, his leg bouncing slightly as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“how do you want me to fuck you?” he suddenly blurts out, his voice low and dark.

your eyes widen, body stiffening as his bold words hit you like a train. you fumble for the curtain, pulling it shut so the driver can’t hear.

“w-what the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer, your breath catching in your throat. his dark brown eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. he doesn’t need to say it—his gaze tells you everything.

he knows.

panic rises inside you as you glance toward your phone and then back to him. he nods slowly, confirming your worst fear. he found out.

“so… are you those shy freaks…” he asks casually, standing up from the couch. his towering frame looms over you, and your world feels like it’s shrinking as he removes his leather jacket, revealing his tattooed, muscular arms.

“y-you wanna do this here? in front of the fans?” you whisper loudly, eyes darting toward the windows that are now covered by the blinds.

he chuckles, low and wicked. “you didn’t seem to care posting your dirty thoughts in front of me.”

and he ate with that one.

just like how he’s now devouring you in the back of the tour bus. you’re nestled on the couch, right in front of the curtains that separate the chaos outside from your little world. choso is on his knees, going at you like a possessed man. your legs are pushed tight against your chest as he laps up your juices, sucking and swallowing your sweet fluids. his cold nose piercing nudges your clit as his tongue thrusts deep inside you at an inhumane speed. any trace of shame has long evaporated, replaced by his loud moans vibrating against your cunt, making your eyes cross slightly.

your hands tangle in his silky brown locks, tugging gently, which earns you a whimper as he pulls back, your essence and saliva coating his chin and glossy lips. “mmm, p-pull on it more, pretty,” he urges, gazing up at you with doe eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he loses himself in you once again.

obeying him, you tug harder on his hair, bucking your hips against his face while his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing you deeper into your chest. he’s growling now, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“yesss, f-fuck, you’re so goooddd,” you praise, head thrown back as he slurps at your juices like a starving man. he pulls away to admire your twitching hole, his fingers parting your folds wider. he spits a wad of saliva directly into your gaping pussy, making you clench instinctively as he slides in two thick digits, effortlessly gliding through your sloppy walls. his thrusts are calculated as he studies your features, which are now squeezed shut in bliss.

“hmm, she’s fuckin’ wettt,” he comments, your pussy responding with loud, squelching sounds that fill the back of the bus, echoing your mess. “hahh, you put that username to use,” he taunts, your body burning with embarrassment. his thick fingers pick up speed, massaging that sweet spot, and your back arches off the couch, your lower tummy tingling as your breath quickens.

choso can sense you’re close, the way you tighten around him. suddenly, he sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around your poor nub. you cover your mouth with your hands, muffling the moans that threaten to escape .

just before you can cry out his name, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you undone. he retreats from your soaked clit, watching your translucent essence dribble down your convulsing hole, spilling onto the couch. your breath hitches as he delivers a sharp slap to your pussy, jolting electricity through your body, and the sticky remnants of your orgasm cling to his palm, igniting an insatiable addiction to your sensitivity.

“nahhh, is this the wettest you can get?” he says, rising from his knees and unzipping his jeans, pulling his throbbing cock free from its confines. your mind goes blank at the sight. fuck, he definitely never lied about his size, especially in his songs. choso sits beside you, manhandling you onto his lap, your pussy pressing against his hard cock as you whimper,

this is really happening.

“ride me, darling—use me all you want.” he states, and it feels like you’re living out your dirtiest dream, because yu are. he leaves trails of kisses along the side of your neck, his glossy lips—coated in your cum—smudging against your skin. you stare down at his shaft, his leaky tip begging to be touched. raising your hips, you grab the base of his cock, making him wince as you align his rosy tip with your drooling entrance. his crownhead stretches you open, and you whimper at how big he is with each inch you take. your velvety walls accommodate his size, practically expanding as he settles into your pussy.

without warning, choso grips your hips, slamming you down against him. you wail as every inch of his cock plunges deep inside your walls, and he moans at how tight you are around him. “f-fuck, baby, takin’ so fuckin’ l-long,” he says impatiently, thrusting up into you as each movement leaves you more dazed and breathless.

with newfound courage, your hips immediately fuck back into his, faster than his sloppy thrusts, making his eyes roll back in pleasure. your grinding drives him wild, your pussy gripping him like it’s life or death. choso’s head falls back, broken moans slipping past his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to hold back even more sounds of ecstasy.

you can feel the heat building between you, his cock stretching you further with each thrust. you grind down harder, relishing the way his body responds, each movement causing him to whimper and squirm beneath you. his hands grip your waist, guiding you, but you can tell he’s losing himself in the sensation, growing more ditzy with every upward thrust.

“c’mon, baby, ride me h-harder,” he begs, voice thick with desperation. his eyes fluttering as he’s moaning loudly. it’s intoxicating, watching him come undone because of you. you match your pace to the rhythm of his moans, your slickness coating him more with each thrust. the sound of your bodies slapping together drowns out the cheers of the fans outside, your pussy so noisy it’s almost too loud for your own liking.

“mmm, keep your eyes on me, pretty boy,” you purr, brushing your fingertips through his hair, tugging a big- earning a whimper at the pet name. you can see the way he bites his lip, trying to hold back more moans, but you know he won’t last long.

“hgn, you think jus’ cause you’re on top ‘m your bitch?” he groans, the tension between you two thcick. his gaze is wild, pupils dilated, and it only drives you further as you increase your pace, your hips slamming hard against his thighs, coating his throbbing base with your slickness. you giggle as he pathetically moans out, hands gripping your flesh tighter as you grind harder. his chubby tip sloppily kisses your cervix, sending shockwaves through your body as it begins to shake.

the way he reacts to every thrust, every grinding motion sends a thrill down your spine. he’s completely lost in you, his breathing ragged and unsteady. “y-you feel so good,” he stammers, voice breaking as he struggles to keep his focus, each word laced with pleasure. you smirk, feeling powerful, proud at the control you have over him.

“mhmm, ‘m starting to think y’er all talk, cho. you’re not showing me how you’d fuck me,” you taunt, leaning in his ear and tugging on his ear piercings, making him shudder at your seductive voice.

your words truly did something to him, awakening something much darker within. without hesitation, he carelessly picks you up, sliding his cock out of your hole as he slams you against the table adjacent to the couch. bending you over, he realigns himself with your hypnotizing cunt, the air thick with the heat of your lust. choso slams his entire length into your pussy, the sound of slickness echoing in the cramped space as your body squelches loudly, both of you moaning in unison. he grips your hips tightly, pounding mercilessly into you, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body as you cry out, not caring if the bus driver or any staff hears your cries of pleasure.

“cunt so good,” he growls, feeling you clamp down hard on his girthy length. his moan resonates deep within your core as he swats your ass, the sound of skin meeting skin sending electric jolts through you. he feels like he’s deep in your guts, rearranging everything inside you, each thrust making your pussy squelch obscenely. it’s so loud that it drowns out any sounds from outside, the wet slaps of your bodies merging into a symphony of lust. you’re practically squeaking like a damn mouse with every thrust, your body unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you.

without warning, he grips your hair and pulls you up against him, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispers, “take it all, mama. you can take it.” his words send a shiver down your spine, the duality of his sweet yet dominating tone intensifying your arousal. you nod, feeling yourself surrender completely to him, wanting nothing more than to be his.

“m-more cho’ ,” you whine, and he responds with a primal growl, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. his movements are relentless, each thrust a story to his desire, his need for you. you can feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the pressure building to a breaking point.

but then, in the midst of your euphoric bliss, you slowly open your eyes, and your jaw drops in shock. he placed you directly in front of the window, where all the fans are just outside, oblivious to the scandalous scene unfolding inside. the reality of the moment crashes over you, and you gasp, suddenly aware of the possibility of being seen.

“c-cho… the—fuckk—the fans,” you manage to warn, your entire body jolting with his relentless thrusts, each one motivating him to go even faster, to claim you harder.

“nahh, now you wanna back out?” he snarls through gritted teeth, going absolutely feral. his grip tightens as he reaches to grab the back of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing you to take him deeper. the blinds rattle as he yanks them open wider, letting in more light for the fans to see everything happening inside. the flashes from paparazzi cameras blind your vision as they snap multiple shots of your fucked out expression, choso grinning behind like a devil at each click.

“say cheese, pretty. you’re gonna be a star,”

[goldfades]

★ YOU AND ME, WE'D BE A BIG CONVERSATION─── PB⁵ (part 1/3)

❪ requested -> "paige x famous!reader (singer, actress, up to u) inspired by endgame by ts where p reveals that r is her celeb crush in an interview and a few days later theres a vid of r responding to it saying shes been obsessed w paige lately / its such a big deal bc r has been involved in a lot of romantic drama lately so everyone is kinda iffy abt her rn, causing her to put up a tough guard. but p sees thru the facade when they start talking and allows her to be herself, making r fall even harder 🥹 " ❫ for my disco nonnie!

─ warnings | gossip, a lot of drama and random ass names (sorry i get confused when i don't name them), mention of panic attacks, hurt to comfort, pretty sure nothing else?

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

"Y/N L/N, ONE OF the biggest names right now in the music industry has found herself at the center of yet another romantic scandal involving her ex and now, reportedly a new lover."

The 22-year-old pop sensation, who recently topped the charts with her latest single, was spotted last night leaving an upscale Los Angeles restaurant with actress and heartthrob, Camilla Harrison. The two were seen getting into the same car, sparking rumors of a budding romance.

This sighting comes just weeks after Y/N's highly publicized breakup with fellow musician Lauren Marie, with whom she had a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship for over two years. The split was reportedly mutual, with both parties citing busy schedules and the pressures of their careers as contributing factors. However, sources close to the couple suggest that Marie was unhappy about Y/N's close friendship with Harrison, which began on the set of her recent music video where Marie made a cameo appearance.

"Y/N and Cam have undeniable chemistry," says an insider. "They've been spending a lot of time together, and it's more than just a professional connection. They're trying to keep things low-key, but it's clear there's something more than friendship between them."

Despite the drama, Y/N continues to thrive professionally. Her upcoming album set to release in the next couple month, is already generating significant buzz. Critics are calling it her most mature work yet, with deeply personal lyrics that reflect her recent experiences.

Meanwhile, Harrison, 26, known for her roles in blockbuster films and her good looks, has remained tight-lipped about the rumors. Her publicist declined to comment, stating that Marie is concentrating on her upcoming film projects.

──

"Okay, next question," the reporter smiled as she scrolled through her phone as Paige gave a tight-lipped smile toward the camera. "Oh! Found a good one, okay. Who is your celebrity crush right now."

"That's easy!" Paige laughed as she glanced toward the reporter. "Y/N L/N, she's beautiful and insanely talented,"

The room filled with laughter as the reporter raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted by the response. "Y/N L/N, huh? That's a popular choice these days, a lot of people are big fans. Have you met her?"

Paige shook her head, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Nah, I wish. But I'm a huge fan of her music. Every song is a masterpiece and I'm not usually into pop,"

"Interesting," the reporter leaned forward, intrigued. "You know, there are rumors about Y/N's love life all the time. How do you feel about all the speculation surrounding her personal life?"

Paige shrugged, maintaining her relaxed demeanor despite the stupid question. "I think it's tough being in the spotlight like that. People forget that celebrities are human too. Everyone deserves a bit of privacy, I'm more interested in her work and what she brings to the music industry rather than whoever she's dating."

The reporter nodded, appreciating Paige's perspective. "Absolutely. It's refreshing to hear someone focus on the artistry rather than the gossip!"

──

"Okay, quick. Who's your celeb crush right now, other than Cam," Bowen Yang, grinned at you, raising an eyebrow as the audience laughed, eagerly awaiting your response.

You laugh (and decide to ignore the comment about Cam), feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, come on, Bowen, you can't put me on the spot like that!"

Bowen leaned in, his grin widening. "Come on, Y/N, the people want to know!" He pointed to the crowd as they cheered, causing you to put your face in yours hands.

You then take a deep breath, pretending to think hard. "Fine, if I have to choose... I'd say Paige Bueckers. She's incredible on the court, and I've seen some interviews with her ─ she seems like such a cool person."

The audience erupts with loud cheers, causing both you and Bowen to laugh. Bowen's eyes widen, clearly delighted by your answer as he clapped. "Ooh, scandalous! Paige Bueckers, I love that! Have you met her?"

You shake your head, smiling. "No, not yet. But I did see a clip of her saying some really nice things about me recently. It was super sweet."

Bowen's face lights up with excitement. "She was practically gushing over you, this is perfect, we need to make this happen. Maybe you could collab, I don't know how but uh, if anyone could make it happen, it's you."

"Thank you, I think?" You laugh, nodding. "Totally, we'll see what happens."

Bowen turns to the camera, his enthusiasm infectious. "You heard it here first, folks! Y/N and Paige Bueckers, the crossover we never knew we needed but now desperately want!"

The audience erupts in applause and cheers, and you can't help but smile at the idea. Bowen turns back to you, his tone shifting slightly more serious. "Alright, before we wrap up, I have to ask ─ how do you deal with all the attention and rumors about your personal life? It seems like you're constantly in the spotlight."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, caught off guard by the serious question. "It's um, definitely challenging at times, but I try to focus on the positive aspects. I love making music and my fans. As for the rumors, I just remind myself that I can't control what people say or think. I stay true to myself and the people who really know me, and that's what matters most."

Bowen nods appreciatively. "Wise words, Y/N. And that's why we love you so. Thank you so much for being here tonight."

"Thank you for having me," you reply, genuinely touched by the support.

"And that's Y/N L/N!"

The crowd erupts in cheers as you genuinely smile, happy for the support, waving toward the audience.

──

"Hey everyone, welcome back to the podcast I'm Lila, and today we've got a lot to talk about. Y/N L/N is at the center of yet another romantic scandal, and there's even a new twist involving basketball star Paige Bueckers. Let's dive in!" Lila said, her enthusiasm palpable.

"Yaya, so excited," Maya chimed in, adjusting her headphones. "So, Y/N was spotted last night leaving an upscale LA restaurant with actress Cam Harrison. They got into the same car, which has everyone buzzing about a possible new romance."

"Yeah, and this is just weeks after her very public breakup with Lauren, I think that's her name? It's been a whirlwind, to say the least. But honestly, I think Y/N is handling it all pretty well. She's focused on her music, and she's just living her life. What's your take, My?" Lila asked, leaning in slightly.

Maya sighed, her skepticism evident. "I don't know, Lila. I get that she's young and living her life or whatever, but it feels like there's always some new drama with her. First Lauren, now Cam Harrison? It's starting to look like a pattern."

"But that's thing, with being in your early twenties. Figuring out what you want, who you want to be with? I mean, she's also incredibly talented and driven. Her new album is generating a ton of buzz and it hasn't even been released yet," Lila countered, her voice full of admiration.

"Sure, but it seems like she's always entangled in some romantic drama. Maybe it's just the nature of fame or whatever, but it can also come off as messy. And now, with Paige Bueckers gushing about her in that interview, it adds another layer. I just hope she’s not stringing people along," Maya replied, her tone annoyed.

Lila nodded, annoyed at Maya's words but maintaining her supportive stance. "I get where you're coming from, but did you see Paige's reaction? She was genuinely excited about Y/N. It was sweet. Plus, Y/N responded so positively on the SNL interview. I think it shows she's got a good heart and she's just navigating her way through a complicated life!"

Maya hesitated for a moment as she glanced at the camera, then continued. "I mean, look at Taylor Swift. She's known for her string of high-profile relationships and breakups, and it hasn't always been received positively. It feels like Y/N is heading down a similar path- What?"

"Come on, Maya!" Lila glared at her, clearly displeased. "Comparing Y/N to Taylor Swift isn't fair. Taylor's faced a lot of unfair criticism for just living her life and expressing herself through her music. Y/N is her own person, with her own journey. She's navigating her twenties in the spotlight, and that's not easy."

Maya just shrugged as she glanced toward the camera, before adjusting her mic. "Well that got awkward, moving on..."

──── COMMENTS

sela 🐾 | is she wrong though... love her music but why'd paige gotta get involved too? ♡ 108

↳ l/nslover | cause they like each other???

↳ 🦕 | has bro ever heard of a pr relationship 😭

↳ ari! | THEYRE NOT EVEN TOGETHER YET BROOO😭😭😭

sarah™️ | LILA GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE BROOOO 😭😭 i never liked maya tbh this is just a weird ass take ♡ 1.7k

kayla 🎀 | listen as a y/n girly i also understand maya's point of view cause.... shes kinda for the streets ♡ 879

↳ ™️ | dont call yourself a """"" y/n girly """""" if ur gonna say she's for the streets??? the fuck??

⭐️ | i was understanding maya's pov up until she started saying all that taylor swift bullshit, they're two separate artists LET US LIVEEEEEEE ♡ 2k

josie may | hardest watch of the day 🥲 maya u let us down with that dumb ass take

──

"I just kinda... wanna disappear for awhile," you confessed, your voice quiet as you pressed the phone to your ear. "Don't know why this keeps happening, you're the only that can... help me through it. Sorry if I woke you up-"

It happened again ─ over the last couple of months (ever since you'd broken up with Lauren) you'd gotten pretty severe panic attacks. You were told by everyone on your team to just stay off social media and what had you done... exactly the opposite of that.

"No, no, I was awake anyway, promise," Paige's voice echoed through the phone. You heard shuffling through the phone as you sniffled, sighing. "And I don't mind, like at all. I meant what I said, I'm always here for you,"

Your heart swelled as you managed a smile, as tears began to build in your eyes. You and Paige had only been talking a month and she already understood you more than anyone had in what felt like forever. Her steady presence was like an anchor in the storm of your life.

The constant media scrutiny and the aftermath of your breakup with Lauren had left you feeling alone, but Paige’s calming influence was slowly becoming your safe haven.

"I just... I don't know how to deal with all of it. The rumors, the pressure, it's all so overwhelming," you admitted, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "Half of it, it isn't even true."

"Hey, it's okay, I know, I believe you," Paige's voice was soothing, almost like a warm embrace over the phone. Even the smallest affirmation from Paige made you feel all okay again, even if it was just for the moment.

"You're not alone in this. We can figure it out together, step by step."

That part made your lips twitch up in a smile, feeling yourself relax again. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. "I just feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Like the walls are closing in, y'know?"

"I get it," Paige replied softly. She'd know about it all too well, she'd been through it herself plenty of times. "Sometimes it helps to focus on the small things. One step at a time, remember? Have you tried any of those breathing exercises I taught you?"

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "Yeah, a little. They help, but it’s hard to remember in the moment."

"Next time you feel a panic attack coming on, call me. Anytime, okay? We'll get through it together," Paige's voice was firm, reassuring. "You don't deserve the shit they give you, like at all."

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling a surge of gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you, P."

"You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I wanna help. Plus, I like hearing your voice," Paige added with a light chuckle, trying to lift your spirits.

You couldn't help but smile at that. "Me too, especially your cute tired voice."

"Cute, really?" Paige laughed through the phone and you swore you felt like your whole world felt even again. "But uh, if you do really wanna disappear you can always come to Connecticut."

The thought of escaping the relentless spotlight, even for a little while, sounded like a dream. "Really?"

"Yeah, you can stay with me for a bit, if that's uh... what you want." Paige explained through the phone. "My friends are super chill and it's always a fun time, if you ever wanna come. Think about it?"

The idea of spending time with the basketball player you'd quickly become enthralled with, seemed almost like a dream. And getting away from LA and all the madness that came with it sounded heavenly, you were going to give Connecticut a thought.

You sighed, feeling a warmth spread through you that had been absent for far too long. "Yeah, I will. And Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Really."

"Anytime, Y/N. Sweet dreams."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | bad reputation

ii. bad reputation by joan jett & the blackhearts 

a/n: andddd we're at chb! reader is mean to luke lol. vaping, smoking, mentions of addiction. crumbs of clarisse x chris!

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“kid, you really need to look at the bright side,” your dad said, taking a sip of his diet coke. “you get to summer in montauk for free. no paying rent, no worrying about what to eat, the world is your oyster.” 

“i don’t understand why i have to spend the entire summer here,” you glared at him, close to ripping your hair out. 

“you’re smarter than that,” he replied, placing his can down on his table. he kicked back in his chair, letting his sandal-covered feet prop up on his desk. his aloha shirt wrinkled as he placed his arms crossed behind his head. he was taking his camp manager role too seriously. “you got put on probation by your field hockey coach.” 

your eyes narrowed, “and?” 

“... for punching a teammate.” 

“who deserved it!” you argued, huffing as you sat on the seat across from him. if there wasn’t a desk separating you from your dad, you were sure you would’ve strangled him with the camp necklace around his neck. “i promised you i’d be on my best behavior, but no. you decided that i needed to be glued to camp all summer.” 

“listen,” he leaned over on his desk, “the girl probably deserved it, but you still got kicked out from summer conditioning, kid– from the top field hockey team in the country! not everyone gets to attend unc but you did and you fucked that opportunity, so until you can prove to me that you have your shit together, you’re stuck in montauk.” 

“gods, you’re ridiculous!” you howled, getting up from your seat. “i hate you.” 

“love you!” he called out, chuckling to himself. you got your dramatic flair from him so he couldn’t fault you too much for your reaction. he probably would’ve reacted way worse if he was in your position. 

“yeah, yeah,” you yelled back, already out of his office. “love ya, too.” 

you walked out into the campgrounds, still huffing and puffing at your interaction with your dad. groups of children and teenagers were checking in for the summer. it amazed you how popular camp half blood became over the years. your dad wanted to create a summer camp for aspiring musicians and creatives to meet others and learn from professionals. he already had the network for it given that he used to be a hot-shot producer in the mid-nineties until he fell into his addiction. 

your dad never talked much about those dark moments in his life, and not many people knew about it, but he was happy to tell you about what came after it; meeting your mom, falling in love, and having you. his sobriety became his top priority when you were born, after you and your mom, of course. camp half blood started out as a dream your dad had when you were still a child, unsure of what you were passionate about, and he hoped you’d fall in love with music the same way he did. right before you turned four, he opened camp half blood. he said he wanted to have the place up and running and established by the time you were old enough to join. but alas, when you turned six and still had no musical or creative bone in your body, your dad’s hopes of having a musical protégé as a daughter were shattered. 

he bounced back from it though when he saw how passionate you were about field hockey. the second you picked up a stick, he saw your eyes brighten and he knew it was lights out from then on. he attended all of your games, bought you the best gear for the sport, and supported you in any way he could. you were thankful for that, for him, but you also knew that he probably would’ve preferred a kid he could talk music with. you saw it when he bragged about the new artists he signed to olympus records or when he talked about the kids at camp half blood. 

you took a sharp right turn at the corner of the dining hall, making a beeline to the secret spot by the lake that you stumbled across when you were fourteen. it was the place you retreated to whenever you and your dad fought while you were at camp. fights and arguments between you two happened often. your mom said it was because you were too similar for your own good. it was true. you and your dad were both stubborn, hot-headed, and unable to accept when you were wrong, but it also meant that you and your dad understood each other on a level that not many father-daughter duos did. 

even though you refused to tell him–or anyone for that matter– why the altercation with your teammate happened, your dad was on your side. he always was. 

you sat on the worn out bench, years of weather damage evident on the wood, taking out your cherry ice vape from your pocket. it was a vice you picked up in college. you weren’t proud of it, and it definitely started affecting your ability to play, but the stress of being a student-athlete, plus all the commotion with your probation started to get to you. 

you stared out into the view, appreciating the way the trees framed the lake in a picturesque way. camp half blood was beautiful; nature everywhere, there was utter silence except for the sound of water and birds chirping when you got far enough away from the noise and chatter of the campers, and the weather in the summer months was perfect. you let the smoke escape your lips, watching as the cloud dissipated into the air. 

“oh, my bad. i didn’t realize someone would be out here.” 

you turned around to see a boy, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips. he wore a black, tight-fitting t-shirt and gray sweatpants. there was a silver chain hanging around his neck with a pendant tucked underneath his shirt. his tussled curls peeked under his backwards yankees cap. 

“spot’s taken,” you said, facing the view once more. you took a deep breath, sliding your vape in the pocket of the hoodie you wore. “go somewhere else.” 

“that thing’s gonna kill you, y’know.” either the boy didn’t hear you or he didn’t care enough to listen because he slid on the bench next to you, taking out a lighter for his cigarette. he closed his eyes, letting the nicotine into his system, “that has like chemicals and shit.” 

you scoffed, “like your cig is any better.” 

“i know what i’m putting in my body,” he shrugged. he motioned aimlessly in your direction, “you don’t know what’s in there. it hasn’t been around long enough for us to know the long term effects.” 

“‘m not planning to be doing this long term.”

“sure,” he smiled at you, unconvinced. “i’m luke.” 

you stared at his outstretched hand, shaking your head, “i’m not interested.” 

“i was just trying to be polite.” 

“if you want to be polite, find another spot to smoke.” 

luke eyed you, undeterred by your hostility. he leaned back on the bench, taking another puff, “nah, i’m good right here.” 

you took out your vape again knowing that you’ll need it to get through this conversation. the two of you sat in silence as you both smoked, letting the smell of the cigarette mix in with the artificial cherry scent. you tried your best to ignore the boy beside you, but it was hard to when he was so close to you. the bench seemed much larger when you were fourteen, when you were alone as its only occupier. 

“so five star, tough day?” 

“what did you call me?” 

“five star,” luke nodded to your hoodie, flicking off the ashes on his cigarette. “your unc field hockey hoodie? like five star recruit.” 

you looked down at your sweater, completely forgetting that you were wearing your team merchandise. you tugged on the collar awkwardly, suddenly feeling like you were exposed. “oh.” 

“so, tough day?” 

you glared at him, “what makes you say that?” 

“well, for starters, it’s the first day of camp and you’re by yourself away from where all the fun shit is happening, smoking a fucking– what is that? strawberry?”

“cherry ice,” you corrected. 

“cherry ice vape,” luke continued, “and you’re biting my head off for trying to start a conversation.” 

“maybe i’m having a bad day because a boy disrupted my me-time and decided to start a fucking conversation when i obviously want to be alone.” 

luke chuckled, pointing to the cigarette between his fingers, “relax, i’ll get out of your hair after this one.” 

“don’t make it a habit.” 

“what? smoking?” he asked, a boyish smile on his face. “already a habit of mine.” 

“interupting my me-time,” you replied, blowing out rings with the smoke in your mouth. “i don’t care what you do to your body.” 

“should we exchange numbers and coordinate when we’ll be using the spot?” 

you rolled your eyes at the teasing tone of his voice. this guy just doesn’t quit, “no, because you won’t be coming back here.” 

“i dunno,” luke looked out into the lake, a soft smile on his face. “i like it here. it’s pretty.” 

“i was here first.” you weren’t backing down. this was your spot. your secret spot, at that. not many campers ventured this far out into the woods, too afraid to get caught by their counselors and get in trouble, or too scared to get lost in the maze of trees. 

“sharing is caring, y’know,” his tone was playful.

you looked at him, no emotion on your features. you studied his face, furrowing your eyebrows like you were trying to place him. he looked familiar like you’d seen his face before. his eyes were big and brown, innocent looking compared to the smirk on his lips. a scar ran down the side of his face, subtle, but noticeable if you looked hard enough. it was slightly discolored compared to the rest of his face. his jaw sharp and cheekbones defined, with beginnings of a summer blush dusted across the bridge of his nose and the high points of his face. behind his ear, a small tattoo of the number “4” was hidden under his curls. his ears were pierced, two, small diamond studs on each earlobe. 

you’d seen him before, but you just couldn’t remember where and when for the life of you. 

you blinked, “i don’t like to share.” 

he threw the butt of his cigarette on the floor, gently stomping out the remnants of it with the tip of his converse convered feet, “noted.” 

you watched as he got up, keeping his promise of leaving you alone after one cigarette. the smirk on his face remained as he turned to face you before he left, “see you around, five star.” 

you made an noncommittal noise, not missing the sound of a deep rumble from his chest as he laughed at your dismissal. you watched him disappear into the trees, noting how his back flexed under his tight shirt as he cleared a path to avoid ducking under stray branches. 

you waited around twenty minutes before getting up to leave. you didn’t want to risk running into luke again, just in case he got lost on his way back. you were not going to lead him back to the safety of camp. if he got lost after trying to take over your spot, then so be it. that wasn’t your problem. 

as you entered the main campgrounds, you saw clarisse, a teammate of yours, who also got put on probation for coming to your defense, leaning against a tree trunk by the registration table. she needed a summer job and housing since she wasn’t allowed to come to practices and live on campus during her probation period, and you were quick to recommend her to your dad to be a camp counselor for the summer. thankfully, your dad was kind enough to say yes. at least you wouldn’t be alone all summer. 

you walked over to her, smiling kindly at the young kids you ran into on the way, excited out of their minds to be away from home for the next few months. “what’s up, la rue?” 

she smacked your arm, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

“ow,” you winced, clutching your upper arm. the girl was strong. there were many moments where you were thankful that you played for the same team. you did not want to be the poor girl who stood in clarisse’s way when she was in the zone. “tell you what?” 

“poisoned mercury!” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest, “why didn’t you tell me they were gonna be here this summer?” 

“oh,” you rolled your eyes, “i didn’t think it was a big deal.” 

“not everyone grew up around celebrities, y/n,” clarisse reminded you, shaking her head. “sometimes, i forget that you did. you don’t talk about it as much as i would if i grew up like you.” 

“yeah, well, it’s not all glitz and glamor, to be honest.” 

you thought about your last relationship– a boy from california that you met during one of your dad’s work trips. it was a whirlwind summer romance that ended in a lot of heartbreak and a promise to yourself that you would never, ever date another musician again. your dad did try to warn you about him, subtly, of course, since he knew better than to butt into a teenage girl’s relationship. the boy had been begging your dad for a record deal for ages and he thought that by dating you, he’d get one step closer to his goal. your dad dangled the possibility of a record deal in front of him like a carrot, his own personal entertainment since he saw right through the boy, and ended up blacklisting him from the industry after he broke your heart. 

a little extreme? sure, but it wasn’t like he was that talented anyway. you still cringe when you remember his terrible rendition of “grenade” by bruno mars. 

“do you know when they get here?” clarisse asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“i dunno, don’t care,” you shrugged, “when did you become such a huge fan?” 

“since i saw how hot their bassist is,” she laughed, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “seriously, y/n, chris rodriguez is fine.” 

“enough, there are kids around,” you shoved her playfully, laughing as you motioned for her to follow you into the cabin you were staying in. “i didn’t know they were gonna be here, actually.” 

“your dad didn’t tell you?” 

“i’ve been on a strict ‘no talking, unless it’s yelling’ rule with my dad the past few months,” you explained, entering your room and closing the door behind you. your bags were messily thrown across the floor, bed unmade, and walls empty. you didn’t get around to decorating and putting things in their place before you gave your dad a piece of your mind. “and i refused to accept that i would be staying here all summer.” 

“it’s not that bad so far,” she moved your training bag from your bed, sitting on it, “the kids are adorable little music nerds. i don’t think they’ll cause too much trouble.” 

“for your sake, ares cabin head counselor, i really hope they don’t,” you teased, beginning to put your things away. “i’m not worried about the kids, actually. it’s more of the people our age that i’m worried about. musicians can be such dicks.” 

“true,” she agreed, “do you remember the kid who acted like he was hot shit when he performed at the fall concert at unc?” 

“yes!” you let out a belly laugh, “the one who shamelessly flirted with lena?”

clarisse nodded, falling on your bed in a fit of laughter, “then ran away when he saw charlie.” 

“i mean charlie is a scary-looking dude,” you commented, taking off your hoodie and stuffing it into one of the drawers. you fixed the camp half blood shirt you wore under it, “big ass linebacker.” 

“but the biggest teddy bear.” 

“the biggest,” you grinned, thinking about your friends back on campus. you already missed them and your crazy, late-night adventures in your college town. you and clarisse met charlie the summer before your freshman year at unc during athlete orientation. he shyly asked if he could sit next to you and clarisse in the back row, not wanting to block the view for people behind him if he were to sit in the front. he was a timid guy for someone who could probably bulldoze you and clarisse without breaking a sweat. 

he introduced you to his girlfriend, silena, when the school year started, and the four of you became inseparable ever since. you were glad you found a friend group in college, one that you could trust and depend on. 

“and this is the cabin where you all will be staying.” 

you looked back at clarisse, eyes widening as you heard your dad’s voice in the living room of the cabin. he didn’t tell you that someone other than clarisse was going to be staying in the cabin with you. 

“there are six rooms in total. one master and five others. there are three bathrooms. one’s in the master and the other two are out here. this is the living room and the small kitchen is down the hall,” he continued to explain, “my daughter has dibs on the master bedroom, though, so tough luck for you guys.” 

“i didn’t know you had a daughter, mr. d.” it was a boy’s voice.

“yeah, i do, y/n,” your dad said. you can practically hear the smile in his voice. “she doesn’t like the limelight so i don’t bring her up too much. i’ll introduce you guys to her when i see her.” 

“chris, put that down!” another voice. this time it was a woman. she sounded older, and tired, like she’d said that phrase a million times before. “sorry about them, mr. d. they may all be of age, but i swear it still feels like they’re kids.” 

your dad laughed, “trust me, i get it, may. my little girl is turning 19 soon, but she’d give her 12-year-old self a run for her money.” 

“i call this room!” 

“travis, you can’t just call dibs on rooms when the rest of us haven’t gotten a chance to take a look around.” 

“you snooze, you lose, rodriguez.” 

clarisse jolted from your bed, jaw hanging as she put the puzzle pieces together. she pointed at the door, whispering, “is that poisoned mercury?” 

your dad was in the middle of a conversation with the woman, may, when you opened your bedroom door to investigate. he was nodding along to what she was saying, taking mental notes of her words. you walked towards them, giving may a polite smile when she noticed you coming their way. 

“speak of the devil,” your dad clapped his hands, placing a hand on your back to guide you into the conversation. “may, this is my daughter, y/n. y/n, this is may castellan, poisoned mercury’s manager.” 

you held out your hand, “nice to meet you.” 

“oh god, a teenager with manners,” she exhaled, immediately accepting your handshake, “pleasure to meet you.” 

“you know we can still hear you, right, mama c?” a boy with curly hair peeked his head out from the room beside clarisse’s. he was wearing a white tank top, his tanned skin adorned with patchwork tattoos on full display. he had a pearl necklace around his neck, a charm of the band’s logo resting between his collarbones. he had a wide smile as if he wore his emotions proudly on his face. “these walls are thin.” 

“you were supposed to hear me, chris,” she replied, rolling her eyes jokingly. 

you tilted your head, analyzing the boy. you understood what clarisse meant. he wasn’t your type, but he was definitely hers. she always did like the golden retriever type. you raised your arm, giving him a small wave, “hey, i’m y/n.” 

“it’s the famous y/n!” you turned around at the sound of your name to see a boy with dark hair and a vintage iron maiden shirt on. he was leaning against his doorframe, toned arms flexed as he stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “travis.” 

another boy, looking eerily similar to travis popped his head out his door at the sounds of introductions. you cocked an eyebrow, “are you guys tw–”

the boy shook his head, stating “no we’re not,” at the same time as travis nodded, “yes we are.” 

you looked at may for help. she shook her head, throwing a pointed look at travis, “they are not. travis is older than connor by a year.” 

“which one of you fuckers stole my charger?” 

you froze in your spot. you knew that voice. your mind started connecting the dots then– luke castellan, lead singer of poisoned mercury. you’d seen pictures of him on your twitter timeline from both your friends from college and from home. he seemed to be the topic of conversation every week because there was a new thing to write about. his wild rockstar adventures were a crowd favorite. 

you once heard that he had a pet monkey that he bought with his first check from their album sales, but tmz reported it so it wasn’t the most reliable source. the last article you saw about luke was titled “leaving a trail of broken hearts: luke castellan’s extensive dating history and how they ended.” typical. 

“oh, luke, i want you to meet my daughter,” your dad beamed, none the wiser. he placed his hands on your shoulders, twisting your body to face the boy. 

you pursed your lips, biting the inside of your cheek. so much for him getting lost.

“five star, nice to see you again,” luke’s eyes lit up, the corner of his lips quirking up in a smile, “looks like we’re roommates.”

[twopoppies]

Sign the petition here

The entertainment industry, acclaimed for its glamour and stardom, is equally infamous for the enormous pressure it exerts on the mental health of artists. Resultant issues such as stress, anxiety, depression, substance misuse and even suicide are alarmingly high. According to research, performers are 2-3 times more likely to suffer from these issues compared to the general population.

In recent news of Liam Payne's tragic death as many others, the entertainment industry needs to be held accountable and be responsible to the welfare of their artists. We seek to implore lawmakers to create legislation safeguarding the mental health of artists within the industry.

Such a law would necessitate regular mental health check-ups, adequate rest periods, and the presence of mental health professionals on-set, including any ongoing support during their career. It will ensure a healthier, safer, and more conducive working environment for artists to cultivate their talents reducing phycological distress. This would also include early interventions to protect and minimise before it's too late. Furthermore, the increasing rate of musicians who die before the age of 35, is concerning. We need to act now!

The artist's role is invaluable not just in the world of entertainment but also in society. Let us ensure their protection and wellbeing. Your signature could be a lifeline for these talented individuals, contributing to a larger movement of mental health awareness and care in industries worldwide. Please, sign the petition.

#LiamsLaw

[louisupdates]

Why this petition matters

The entertainment industry, acclaimed for its glamour and stardom, is equally infamous for the enormous pressure it exerts on the mental health of artists. Resultant issues such as stress, anxiety, depression, substance misuse and even suicide are alarmingly high. According to research, performers are 2-3 times more likely to suffer from these issues compared to the general population.

In recent news of Liam Payne's tragic death as many others, the entertainment industry needs to be held accountable and be responsible to the welfare of their artists. We seek to implore lawmakers to create legislation safeguarding the mental health of artists within the industry.

Such a law would necessitate regular mental health check-ups, adequate rest periods, and the presence of mental health professionals on-set, including any ongoing support during their career. It will ensure a healthier, safer, and more conducive working environment for artists to cultivate their talents reducing phycological distress. This would also include early interventions to protect and minimise before it's too late. Furthermore, the increasing rate of musicians who die before the age of 35, is concerning. We need to act now!

The artist's role is invaluable not just in the world of entertainment but also in society. Let us ensure their protection and wellbeing. Your signature could be a lifeline for these talented individuals, contributing to a larger movement of mental health awareness and care in industries worldwide. Please, sign the petition.

SIGN THIS PETITION

Lottie Tomlinson has signed the petition (via LouisTSpainNews)

[queen-of-the-avengers]

More Than Meets The Eye

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Natasha stays over for a few days and kicks up drama for you and Bucky. She makes you realize that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Bucky Barnes.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: day-in-the-life (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Natasha is usually very pristine and professional. She is widely known across the state as one of the best realtors the business has ever seen. She has clients who go for multi-million dollar homes, and she scores nearly every single sale she gets. If she acts out in public, it can largely affect her business, so she tends to keep to herself.

Not when she has alcohol in her system.

Like tonight. She’s in a fling with a musician who she only needs whenever she’s stressed, but it works for both of them. There aren’t any strings attached and they can still get their work done without the stress of a relationship. Natasha turns into a whole other person when she’s drunk. The slut in her comes out and she becomes even more bold. She’s normally shy and reserved.

Not tonight.

Whenever the musician is in town, he tends to stay at her place since he’s only in town for a few days. She texted you twenty minutes ago from a club downtown where the musician is playing. Clubs are not your thing but you’re there when she needs you. After checking in at the door, you push your way inside where there is a sea of people on the dancefloor.

You’re standing on a ledge that overlooks the club. You can either go upstairs where there are more private areas for people just enjoying the music with some drinks while the party is downstairs. From where you are, you can see Natasha and the musician on the other side of the bar.

“Natasha!” You yell even though you know she won’t hear you. You push your way through the sea of people, trying to ignore the hot sweaty bodies bumping into you. “Natasha!”

She turns when she hears her name. “Thank God, you’re here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I caught him with another woman in my bed! My bed!”

“You were gone. I have needs. What do you want me to do?” the musician groans.

“That’s my apartment, asshole! I want your shit out now!”

“I leave in three days. You get it back then.”

You can’t believe how he’s acting but you really don’t want to do this here and now. You grab her arm and pull her toward you. “Come on, he’s not worth it.”

“He’s at my apartment. I don’t want to go back there,” she groans.

“You can stay with me. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

She’d be more upset if she didn’t just have nearly eight shots earlier. Thankfully, she listens to you and leaves the club with you. Your car is in a gas station parking lot since there wasn’t any parking near or at the club.

“He’s not worth it, Nat.”

“I know, but still. It’s like I’ve got no game lately. All I want is a nice man who will take care of me.”

“Well, you got me.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I do have you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love drunk you,” you giggle. Ten minutes pass and you’re at your place. In the elevator ride up, you think about what the guys might be doing. “So, listen, the guys are home and I don’t need you to be all sexual and grabby like I know you get.”

“Got it,” she nods.

“I’m serious, Nat. Best behavior.”

“I hear you. Best behavior,” she grins.

“Wait here.” You open the door and walk inside. Bucky is playing video games, Steve is trying to read a book, and Sam is blowing straw wrappers at Steve. Some of them hit him and others fly on his book or lap. “Hey, guys. I have Natasha with me, and it looks like she’s going to stay with us for a few days.” Steve perks up at Natasha’s name. “Just letting you know, she is very drunk and she’s very bold and loose with her body. I am so sorry for whatever she might try on you guys.”

You open the front door and Natasha walks in with a sly smirk on her face.

“Natasha. Wow, you look amazing,” Steve says, forgoing his book altogether.

“Thanks, baby,” she grins.

“Okay, you can sleep on the couch tonight, and we’ll figure something out tomorrow. Let me get you some blankets and a pillow.”

You leave her with the guys and walk into your room. Seconds later, you hear the stereo turn on and loud music is blasted. You sigh knowing this was a possibility but hoped it wasn’t going to happen. When you walk into the living room, you see Natasha, Steve, and Sam dancing along to the music. Bucky is still on the couch, clearly not wanting any part of this.

“Natasha, you should really get some sleep.”

“Dance first! Bucky, come on!”

“I’m okay, really. I’m going to go to bed.”

She shimmies her way over to Bucky who stands up. She pulls him into her body, and he tries to politely get her off him.

“Natasha, come on. He doesn’t want to dance.” She lets him go and he slips by her easily. He looks at you as he passes but doesn’t say anything else. It looks like she won’t be sleeping anytime soon, so you put the blankets and pillows on the couch. “Okay, I’m going to bed. Keep it down in here, please.”

Ten minutes after you leave, Natasha starts to grow tired. Steve jumps at the chance to take her to bed even though he’s not going to do anything with her. He’s a gentleman and that won’t change even if she is intoxicated. He really likes her and if he wants to be with her, he’s going to have to show him he’s not just some fling she’s used to.

“Come on, let me show you to my bed.”

Steve wraps a strong arm around her waist and guides her to his bedroom. She flops onto the bed face first and is out like a light. Steve looks around and grabs a small blanket before draping it over her body. He joins Sam back in the living room and plops down on the couch with a grin.

“Why are you grinning?”

“She’s in my bed. I overheard some conversations she and Y/N have had. All she’s ever had are flings, so I’m going to show her that I can be the gentleman she needs.”

“Yeah, because that’s a way to get a girl into bed,” Sam laughs.

“Just you wait, Sam. It’ll happen.”

In the morning, you wake to Bucky nursing his second cup of coffee. Steve is sleeping on the couch which means Natasha must be in his bedroom.

“Good morning, Bucky.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Is that all you’re having for breakfast?” Bucky shrugs and you shake your head. “Not acceptable. You’re a growing man. You need proper food. I’ll make you some.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Nonsense. I want to. Do you like eggs? Pancakes? Waffles?”

“No, Y/N, I’m fine.”

“Eggs and bacon it is,” you smile. “You can have some with me. Plus, I’m sure Natasha and the guys will be hungry when they wake up.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. Stop being so nice to me. You don’t have to…”

“What?” you ask when he stops talking.

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Well, someone has to, right? Everyone deserves someone to take care of them every once in a while,” you smile and turn back to the food.

Bucky stares at you in thought. He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. At the smell of food, Sam and Steve wake up. The only person who is sleeping is Natasha, and you can only assume she is going to want a strong cup of coffee, so you start to brew a pot for her. Much like you assumed, she walks out of Steve’s room when she smells the coffee.

“Is that coffee?”

“Brewed a new pot for you. Extra hot. Extra strong.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Natasha. I hope you slept well,” Steve smiles.

“Thank you for letting me use your bed. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem. Our couch isn’t the best, and I didn’t want your back all messed up.”

Sam looks at Steve who smiles knowingly. Natasha pours herself a cup of coffee while you plate the food. You slide one over to Bucky and smile at him.

“Eat. I can hear your stomach growling from over here.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word but accepts the food from you. After a nice breakfast, Natasha hops in the shower to wash of the stink from last night, and Steve strips his bed to wash the sheets. Natasha might smell good, better than most, but she reeked of alcohol last night, and he doesn’t want his bed smelling like that.

You get dressed in a green and white dress that goes down to your knees, and you walk into the bathroom where the lotion is. You pause when you see Sam standing by the sink with a toothbrush in his mouth… without toothpaste. Steve is standing by the towel rack looking at the large amount of products he keeps there. His hair is always silky smooth and his skin always looks amazing. He has some of the best products that you like to steal from time to time.

“What are you guys doing?”

“I’m brushing my teeth,” Sam says in defense.

“I’m just… doing things,” Steve mutters.

Bucky walks into the bathroom and pauses when he notices everyone else. “Is this a normal hangout spot now?”

“Nat, you’ve been in there for ages. Come on,” you say and squirt some lotion onto your hands.

“Sorry, I just can’t seem to find any towels that are bigger.” She slides the curtain back after she secures a towel around her body. All three men are big guys but their waists are slim, so they don’t need big towels, and all of yours are in the washer. “Oh.”

Sam stops brushing his teeth and stares at her while Steve blushes hard. He wants to look but every time he does, his face goes red so he clears his throat and turns away.

“Okay, come on. I have something you can wear.”

Bucky’s brain takes a few minutes to process what’s happening, so he freezes up when she tries to go past him. He barely gives her an inch to move, and you shake your head in disappointment.

“I am very disappointed in all of you.” You look at Bucky. “Especially you. I thought you were better than this.”

“I am sometimes.”

You walk into your room where Natasha is going through your closet for something to wear. You close the door to give her privacy, and she turns holding a shirt you got out of whim. Your style isn’t very flashy but she convinced you to get this shirt that exposes a bit more cleavage.

“No, I haven’t worn it yet. Yes, you can.”

“Thanks,” she grins.

She grabs a pair of jeans that she left over one time and puts those on along with the shirt.

“So, are we going to talk about last night?”

“I blacked most of it out. What happened?”

“You almost gave Bucky a lap dance, and it was cute to watch Steve gush all over you. That boy likes you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about boys?”

“Yeah, like your ex-boyfriend musician. Are you going to kick him out of your apartment?”

“He’s going to be gone in a few days. Can I just stay here until he’s gone?”

“Nat, that’s your place.”

“I know, but you don’t know this guy. He’s a PR nightmare. It’s best if I let him stay there until he’s gone.” You shrug. “Let’s talk about Bucky now.”

“Bucky? What about him?”

“Come on. You say Steve likes me? Bucky likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t. We’re just friends.”

“You can’t be just friends with these guys. Do you really think none of them have ever thought about sleeping with you?”

“Stop, it Nat,” you sigh.

Someone knocks on your door and Bucky opens it.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?”

“Yes,” Nat answers for you. “You should go with him, Y/N, to get that thing you really need.”

“I don’t need a thing.”

“Yes, you do. You need that thing you were telling me about.”

“I wonder what that is,” Bucky mumbles.

“She’ll be right out,” Nat smiles. She closes the door on him and turns to you with a smile. “This is perfect.”

You look at her and your eyes widen. “No, you’re not doing this. You’re not going to come in here and ruin what I have with them. I’m finally happy after Jack, and I really like these guys. I think they’re starting to like me, too.”

“Do you remember telling me about your perfect man? Bucky is everything on your list. Physically strong. Check. Nice smile. Double check. Tall. Triple check. Blue eyes, kind, caring, knows what he wants, and older. Check, check, and check.” She walks closer to you. “Plus, did you see his feet? A guy’s feet always point to what they want, and his were pointing right at you.”

“How would you like him to stand?” You stand and point both feet outward like a duck. “Like this?”

“Come on, go. He’s waiting for you.”

“Hey, are you ready?” Bucky calls out.

“Be there in a sec, bro!”

“Did you just call me bro?”

You pause. “Yeah. I’m coming.” You open the door. “Talk to Steve. I think he can be good for you.”

“Only if you talk to Bucky.”

“Bye,” you roll your eyes.

The ride to the store wasn’t as awkward as you thought it was going to be, but being in the store with all these people, all you could think about were Nat’s words.

“So, how long is she staying?” Bucky asks.

He has a very short list of items to get, and he goes through the different aisles and puts them in the cart.

“Only for a few days. Her douchey ex-boyfriend is staying in her apartment. It’s a long story.”

Everywhere you look there are different kinds of couples. Older, younger, same sex… Everywhere you look, you’re paying attention to their feet. One older couple has both their feet pointed at each other while another couple has theirs pointed away from each other. That couple looks like they don’t enjoy each other’s company as much. Is she right? Bucky says something but you’re too much in your own head to hear what he has to say.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Stop taking care of everyone.”

You look down and notice his feet are pointing right at you. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“What?” You look up at him. “Nothing. What?”

“What?” You move slowly around Bucky but he follows you by moving his entire body and not just his head. “What are you doing?” You keep moving around Bucky to get his feet away from you but he keeps turning so that they’re always pointed at you. “I know she’s your best friend, but I didn't mean to insult you. I’m just saying you don’t have to take care of her.”

“I know.”

You do a complete one-eighty around him, yet he still follows you with his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m just trying to see…”

“Look, I’m sorry if I insulted you, but what are you doing right now?”

“I’m just… walking like a friend.”

“Okay, we have one more item on our list and then we can go. We just need toilet paper.”

“I don’t use it,” you say slowly.

“You don’t use toilet paper?”

You chuckle nervously and shake your head. “I mean… That’s not what I meant.” There is some right next to you so you grab the first one you see and put it in the cart. “Okay, we can go now.”

“You’re so weird,” he mutters and walks to the cashier.

Fuck, Natasha. She said something and now she’s in your head like a goddamn parasite. You two leave the store and start the journey back home. Bucky stops at the light and turns to you with confusion on his face.

“Okay, what is going on with you, Y/N?”

“Why do you have to do that? Why do you have to say my name like that?” You imitate him. “Y/N. And why do you have to wear old man clothes all the time?”

“I’m not wearing old man clothes. You don’t like the way I dress?”

“No… I just…” You fan your face. “I just need some air.”

All the windows are open but Bucky doesn’t comment on it. Just then, a woman walks up to the window carrying a bunch of red roses and is trying to sell them at stoplights like this one. You respect her trying to make extra money, but you can’t deal with this right now. All you can think about is Bucky and the fact that you saw his giant penis and the way his feet kept pointing at you.

“Roses for the lady?” the woman grins.

“You want some roses? I’ll buy you some.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Still, Bucky takes out some cash and hands it over to the woman who then gives the roses to him.

“Here, take some roses.”

“No, I don’t want them.”

“They were two dollars. Just take the roses.” You have to get out of here. You unbuckle and open the car door before fleeing. “Y/N, what are you doing? It was a joke. Get back in the car!” you take off running down the street. “Y/N!”

You don’t care if you’re going the wrong way. You just needed out of that goddamn car. It takes you an extra twenty minutes to get home when it could have taken you five in the car, but you needed the walk. You trudge inside your apartment to see Natasha sitting on the couch with a realtor magazine in her hands. She likes to keep up with what’s popular around the city.

“I walked all the way home,” you pant. “I got out of the war and walked all the way home.”

“What happened?”

“You happened, Nat. You got in my head! His feet were pointed at me the whole time.” She nods and stands up. “Is it the way I’m dressed? Is it my posture?”

“Look, I’ll talk to him for you.”

“No, please don’t. Just let me handle this, okay?”

The door opens and Bucky walks in with the groceries. “Okay, what the hell happened, Y/N? I’ve been driving around for the last thirty minutes looking for you. We were in the middle of traffic and you just got out and ran away.”

“I was hot,” you mumble.

“You were so hot that you had to jump out of my car and run?” You lean to the right and fix your posture. “Why are you standing like that?”

“This is how I always stand?”

“I’ve never seen you stand like that.” He shakes his head. “Look, I was worried about you, okay? You can’t just… Don’t do that again, okay?”

Bucky walks away and Natasha grins at you.

“Are you even listening to him? He’s trying to tell you that he likes you.”

“No, he’s just saying he cares about me as a friend.”

“Let’s go ask him.” She takes two steps and you jump on her back to stop her. She turns into the fighter that she is and starts to wrestle you, and you two go crumbling to the ground. “I am trying to help you, Y/N!”

“I don’t need your help, Nat. I like being friends with him. Yes, he has a giant penis that I saw. Yes, he saw me naked. Yes, he might be my dream guy, but none of that matters. He’s my friend and all that will go away if I bring this up. What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“A big part of my job is reading people. How do you think I managed to score as much as I have? I’ve managed to talk down narcissists and misogynists to buy more than the selling price. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You never make the first move.”

“I have before, Natasha. I’ve been burned too many times to let it happen again. I like living here and that might go away because ��you can read people’. I know you want to take care of me like I take care of you, but I have to handle this. Me, not you.”

“Fine,” she huffs out. “Thank you for letting me stay, but it’s best if I kick Troy out of my place. You got your boy drama and I have mine. Plus, I have a showing later in Beverly Hills I can’t miss.”

“You’re always welcome here.”

She leaves the apartment and Steve comes out of his room.

“Is she gone?”

“Yeah, she is.”

Steve sighs and flops onto the couch. “I don’t know how to do this. She’s not like any woman I have ever met. I thought we had a moment while you were gone, but it’s like it never happened with her.”

“Natasha has been hurt so many times. She had flings because in the last relationship she was in, he… I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will say this. She’s going to make you work for it.”

“That’s what makes it worth it,” he smiles.

“Good luck. She could use a guy like you.”

You’re exhausted by the end of the night, so you do your nighttime routine before going to bed. The first thing you do is brush your teeth. The door opens and Bucky walks in just as you start. You lightly blush just as Bucky grabs his toothbrush. You stand there in silence for a few minutes before you spit out the toothpaste in your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry for how I acted before.” Bucky looks at you. “Nat said something that freaked me out, but I’m good now. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay,” he says with a mouthful of toothpaste.

He turns to the sink again and continues brushing, and you notice his feet move away from you and back to the sink. To hide your smile, you continue brushing your teeth, and your heart flutters.

x

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[yoonia]

overdrive (m) | B.I

⤑ Summary | As his personal manager who always works closely with him in both his professional activities and private matters, it has become one of your duties to cater to his needs, to always be on his beck and call, even if you have to put aside your own needs to please him.

⤑ Title | Overdrive ⤑ Pairings | Kim Hanbin (B.I) x female reader ⤑ Genre | PWP, Smut, Artist/Musician!B.I, Manager!reader ⤑ Word count | 13,345 words

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; involves mature and explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, groping, stripping/nudity, breast play, hand job, oral sex (male receiving/blowjob), deepthroating, unprotected sex, public sex, tour bus sex, accidental voyeurism, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling (on both), edging, begging, swearing, breast play, nipple play, panty ripping, fingering, clit play, finger licking, cum tasting/eating, cum swallowing, biting, light restraint, implied creampie, panty biting(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, body worshipping.

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story is purely a work of fiction, with the usage of artist’s/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. | PS. This is only roughly edited, but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading the story. 

It feels like only moments ago this place was thriving with raw energy.

Loud music was blasting through the speakers, while the sounds of fans screaming his name and singing along to his song echoed through the entire venue. Everyone and every part of this place came alive as Hanbin took control of the stage with his mere presence. 

You can almost see him still being there as you look over at the stage, commanding it with his music. You still remember how he kept everyone completely entranced with his alluring voice and hypnotising moves. What he did on stage was pure magic. 

And that magic must have been strong enough that you can still picture him doing his thing on that empty stage. You can still feel his presence even after the lights have been turned off and the crowd has long since left this place to return home. 

Thinking about him like this makes your body burn hot. 

Your heartbeat starts racing the same way it did earlier while you were standing by the side of the stage, watching him move his body to the music. After spending the past year working with him and then joining him on this tour, the reactions he inflicts on you no longer surprise you. 

He captivates you in ways that you can never possibly explain. That you have never experienced before. 

Even once the music has stopped, once his performance has long ended and there are no more of his lively audience around you dancing and screaming his name, you can still feel everything. 

Even without the music, its vibration seems to linger. Still reverberates through the air around you and you can feel it deep within your body. As if the space around you is still humming with his presence even in the silence that remains.

“You’re still here?” a voice calls out, drawing your attention away from the empty stage and out of your thoughts right before they begin to dive into a different, slightly darker place. The road manager comes to your side. The man appears just as exhausted as you are—perhaps even more, knowing what he is required to do before and after these shows—yet he still has a big smile on his face as he greets you. 

“Yeah, I just met up with the promoter, so I figured I’d check in to see how you guys are doing while I’m still around,” you try to make up excuses. Not that he would start questioning further. “How’s everything going?” 

The road manager begins explaining everything—from all the tasks that the road crew had just completed and how they are handing the rest to the local staff. Skipping all the technical details that you have no business with except to report back to Hanbin later. 

Much later.

Once you are done with your actual responsibilities. 

As Hanbin’s personal manager who normally handles his private needs, keeping watch of the road crew dismantling the stage equipment and the stereo system isn’t really a part of your duty in the first place. Especially when there aren’t really that many things they would need to cover in these indoor venues. Getting to know what they are doing isn't even the reason why you still remain here after the show is over. 

You are simply buying time before returning back to him. Which is what you probably should be doing already now that everything else has been taken care of. 

“Everything is packed and ready to go. I think the boys are planning to join the dance crew and grab dinner somewhere nearby, then we’ll be out of here before midnight,” the road manager continues as he walks with you towards the backdoor of the venue. “How about you join us?” 

His offer catches you off guard, yet you quickly refuse. “No, thank you, you guys go ahead. I still have some things to do, so I’ll figure something out later.” 

Just as you are heading towards the exit, you are met with the guys from the dance crew, and Hanbin’s close friends, coming in from the parking lot. Most of them look freshly showered, having found the time to freshen up after getting heated from the show. They all give you a friendly greeting once they notice you there, while Shawn, one of the dancers, steps closer to you to say hi. 

You look over his shoulder to confirm that Hanbin isn’t with them. 

Noticing this, he immediately says to you in a low voice, “Hanbin’s back in the bus. Said he wanted to chill and take it easy for the night. He also said that he’s waiting for you to talk about something.” 

“Ah, I see,” you answer him, trying to stay calm about it when your heart is palpitating at the thought of Hanbin waiting for you to come and see him. 

Alone. 

Which only means one thing—

“We’re heading out to get some food and maybe find some snacks and drinks for the road. Should we get you guys something to eat too?” Shawn kindly offers. You can only smile and nod while trying your best not to take notice of the way he speaks, or the way he is looking at you knowingly. You also ignore the way he seems to be insinuating something else when he speaks about you and Hanbin. 

As if he knows your little secret and the real reason why Hanbin is expecting you. 

“Sure, that would be lovely. Thanks for offering. He’ll probably skip dinner if you don’t get him something to eat.” 

The dancer grins. “I wouldn’t be too worried about it if I were you.” 

Shawn’s cryptic answer stays with you for a while as you walk away from the group. Yet you try not to let it bother you too much as you start making your way to find Hanbin. 

The night breeze welcomes you as you step out of the establishment. Then the silence thickens around you as you walk across the quiet parking lot. You merely take a moment to breathe in the fresh air around you and pay no heed to everything else, having only one destination in mind. But you make sure to remain within the shadows formed under the line of trees on the edge of the parking lot, keeping away from the fans who might still be lingering around or taking their time leaving the place. 

It doesn’t take long before you start seeing them. 

There are some standing beyond the trees in pairs while others are gathering in small groups. Some appear to be lounging around and resting, no doubt trying to come down from the high that they had all gotten from the concert before tracking their way back home or to their hotels. Others seem to linger without any apparent reason. Perhaps nothing other than hoping to get one last glimpse of Hanbin or get noticed by him and his boys if they would just wait around a bit longer. 

You watch them for a brief moment before continuing your walk across the parking lot. Parked at a dark corner at the far end of the parking lot, it feels like it is taking you forever to finally reach the tour bus. As it they had all the intention to tuck it away and keep it from being seen. 

Once the tour bus appears in your line of sight, your heart stutters. 

Under the night sky and kept in the dark, the vehicle looks almost inconspicuous. It doesn’t draw too much attention even with its size and how out of place it seems to be here. 

Yet it draws something else out of your thoughts as you take a good look at it. 

It brings a smile to your face when you remember how it all started, how Hanbin and his team came up with the idea of travelling between places in such a bus throughout this tour. He sold the idea as a way for him to make the most out of it, to embrace every moment that he could get and be able to visit different places in between. He also talked about his wish to live life like a rockstar while he is on the road—something which was quite alarming and made you worry at first, hence why you have been joining him through the whole tour.

So far, it has been rare for you to join him and his tight crew riding on the bus during the overnight drives, except for the short journeys and when you had to work side by side with him between shows. 

Other times, you have been travelling solo whenever you were required to. Only so you could be ahead of the entourage to make sure that all the preparations needed for his show would be in place by the time they arrived. 

Tonight, that would be one of the things that is going to change. 

With one last destination left on the tour, the bus and its passengers will be heading down the road right away instead of remaining in this city for the night. And you are going to be joining them on the bus to get to the next destination instead of travelling solo to the next city. 

But as you walk towards the bus, you can feel, deep down, that the travel arrangement wouldn’t be the only thing that is going to be different tonight. 

The place around you is dark and quiet. So quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat echoing around you as you reach for the door. Your breath grows heavy as you open the door and climb your way in. More silence welcomes you, which only thickens further once the door is closed behind you. 

Making your way to the back of the bus, you walk past the seats where everyone would usually waste their time while on the road, loitering and chattering loudly with a ton of noises filling this area. The kitchen and the dining area look partly messy—with bags of potato chips and empty bottles left unattended on the counter, even when the tables are wiped clean—and you wonder just how much mess will be added here later once the boys are back. 

And then you reach the area where the bunk beds are. The sleeping quarters that everyone would use to rest and spend the night in while the bus is driving across cities and between borders. With only individual curtains giving each bunk its privacy, noises from outside can still filter through in the night. 

Thinking about this as you walk through the row of bunk beds only brings you back—way back—to the night which started it all. The same night which gave you the reason to be here, tracing your steps through the bus to look for Hanbin. 

It was after the second show when you tracked down this quiet aisle with the same purpose which led to one small mistake that started an entire ripple effect. You came here that night when Hanbin suddenly disappeared after the show while everyone was ready to grab dinner. You came back to the tour bus to find and fetch him so he could eat, knowing how often he would skip his meal when he was focused deeply in work. 

That night was exactly like tonight, with everyone away and on their way to find the nearest local restaurant, leaving the bunk beds empty. At least, that was what you had expected, believing that Hanbin must have lost track of time when he immediately dove straight back into work the way he often would just to burn out the rest of his energy for the night. 

You were heading further back of the vehicle to find him when a faint sound of a groan caught your attention. It sounded like someone or something was in one of the bunk beds, which drew your curiosity. So you stopped to listen.

A bunch of other noises started to become more noticeable then, and it didn’t take long for you to notice that the sounds came from the last bunk on the row. The one that Hanbin was meant to use during the long trips on the road. You carefully crept closer so you could listen better. To know just what was happening behind the curtain. 

There was a mix of cryptic sounds heard coming out of it—the sounds of sheets ruffling, soft knocking against the side of the bunk, and more soft groans.

You wondered for a moment if it was really Hanbin inside the bunk. But when you started suspecting him to be the source of those sounds, you immediately felt annoyed. Livid, even. When the thought of him doing something as risky as getting it on with some stranger crossed your mind. 

It didn’t help when you remembered about his wish to live like a rockstar. Remembered how he had spoken about it before the tour. The thought further led you into believing that he may have actually done it. That he had invited someone, perhaps a willing fan of his, onto the bus. 

It made you want to strangle him just thinking about him actually doing it. The last thing you needed was for him to get caught in trouble in the middle of the tour. Much less for him to get entangled in malicious rumours if something like this should get out in public. 

As the noises continued, you gently grabbed the hem of the curtain, ready to throw it back and bust him. A myriad of scolding went through your head at that point as you were ready to make him pay for it. 

Another groan was heard and you decided to move once you confirmed that it was really his voice that you heard. Ignoring the way the sound of his pleasured moan sent tingles through your body, you whipped the curtain back to catch him in the act, only to regret it as soon as you saw him. 

Hanbin looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he looked up. His eyes were wide open with fear, yet you could also see a dark need emerging from his gaze which became more visible the moment he realised that it was you. 

But you already had your attention somewhere else to notice it.

Reclining in the tight space within his bunk bed, Hanbin was bare-chested, wearing nothing more but his shorts that had been pushed down under his hips. You just couldn’t resist looking down to see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, fully exposed and standing hard against his stomach.

Once the shock wore off, his truth finally came out. He confided in you about his need to release all the energy that was still boiling within him after the show. That it would have made it hard for him to be able to feel calm in the night unless he had all of that energy drained out of him. To have it tamed, so that he could finally relax and have his proper rest. 

“I don’t really think it’s working, though,” he breathlessly said then with a bitter chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. And it’s kind of hard to make myself cum when my head is at the wrong places.”

“What if I give you a helping hand? Will it work?” The offer slipped right out of your lips before you could do anything to stop it. You didn’t even realise what you were offering him until the moment you saw the look on his face. He looked surprised, but intrigued at the same time. Then there was this new emotion which seemed raw and fierce coming out through his gaze when he considered taking your offer. 

“Why would I say no to that?” was what he said as he leaned back, allowing you to take matters into your own hands, literally, as you fixed his problems simply with the touch of your hands until he was able to find release. 

That was the first time that you crossed the line just to help him. And it was definitely not the last. 

The arrangement continued after the next show, and the next, and you kept coming to his aid at the end of every concert throughout the ongoing tour. Your help had become the best option available rather than allowing him to find other ways to get out of his predicament once the night got deeper and he was still too hyped up to sleep.

After a short while, your carnal favour has escalated from merely giving him your special aid through your helping hands to taking him deep in your mouth once he needed to be stimulated further. 

That was as far as you had gotten since this arrangement started. Never once had it led to something more. And Hanbin had always been the focus of your “service”, except for the few times he returned the favour by giving you release with the touch of his deft hands when you had to do this in the privacy of his hotel room. 

Your body trembles in heat. Both from reminiscing all the sinful act you had done to help him and from the pleasure that you gained in return through his touch. 

Reaching the end of the aisle, your eyes linger on the last bunk. The curtain is drawn, and there is no sound coming out of it. You can tell that he won’t be there if you pull that curtain open, so you move on.

The only sound that you can hear comes from the small room at the back of the bus instead. The area that was meant to be the master bedroom, altered into a private cabin with sofa beds and desks which would have more purpose for someone like Hanbin. 

You shouldn’t be surprised to know that Hanbin would choose to be there, waiting for you to come to him. Because you know that out of all the sections within the bus, it would be the only place that can provide you all the privacy that you may need to be able to help sort out the uncommon predicament that Hanbin might be facing tonight. 

Right this moment, that is where the faint sound of his moans and slow breaths is guiding you. And you follow its lead, with your heart palpitating the closer you are to get to it. 

As you gently open the door to the cabin, you find Hanbin sitting on the long sofa at the back of the room. The same sofa bed that you would use to sleep on whenever you are riding on the bus, when you are not helping Hanbin finish his work or write his music while everyone else is asleep in their bunks.

You enter the cabin, closing the door behind you. You take a moment to have a good look at him before coming to his side. 

Hanbin still has the same pants that he was wearing on stage. Sill bare-chested after discarding his shirt at the end of the show to toss it to God knows where. The only difference is that he is barefoot, with his shoes left hastily on the floor. The strands of his hair—which appear to be wet with sweat—are now a complete mess with curly strands falling over his face like curtains shielding him from the dim lights illuminating the room.

Hanbin has his head tilted back as he reclines on the sofa, looking awfully exhausted after the hours-long, full-energy show that he had just concluded. You can see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His bare skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat that somehow makes him look even more alluring than he always has been. The glow on his skin further accentuates the lines on his chest, shoulders, and torso, making you feel the urge to touch him there. 

Before you can realise it, your legs begin to move, taking you to him. At first, it appears to you that he has yet to notice your presence. Until you notice the slight tremor in his deep inhale of breath once he senses that you are coming closer.

As you come to him, Hanbin lifts his head to look at you. The dim lighting around you didn’t allow you to see it before, yet as he subtly shifts on his seat, you finally notice that he had left his pants unbuttoned and unzipped before you had gotten here. 

Seeing the sight of his hard-on, partly covered by his pants while the tip is resting heavily on his stomach, it reminds you of the first night you saw him like this. Except that instead of having his hand wrapped around his hard girth, Hanbin keeps his hands to his side this time. Both are clenched tightly into the sofa, allowing you to see the tension rolling out of his body.

That tension seems to grow further when he opens his eyes, watching you coming closer to him with an intense gaze. 

“You’re here,” he says once you are standing right before him. His voice almost feels like an echo in the silence that surrounds you. Still sounds hoarse after the show. 

“I’m here,” you find yourself responding as if you are completely entranced by his gentle voice. You clear your throat, hoping that you can shake away the yearning in your voice before he ever notices it. “I heard you were expecting me. I came right away, assuming that you needed my assistance.” 

You trail your gaze back down on his lap, eyeing closely at the sight of his hard cock. It twitches against his stomach the more you give it attention. You lick your lips, wishing for a taste. Yet you manage to keep your voice steady when you tease him, “I didn’t expect that you would have started already without me.” 

A slow grin appears on his face. “There is no way I could start anything before you got here. I was waiting for you. But as you can see, I needed to do something about it when it was starting to hurt so bad.” 

He stops with a hiss. His body seems to react while he converses with you. “You’re the only one who can help me during times like this,” he says to you before dragging his tongue across his lips. 

There is a subtle disappointment flickering in his eyes when he adds, “Funny, I thought you would be as excited as I’ve been to finally have some time alone like this once the show ended.” 

The look that you see in his eyes and the disdain you hear in his voice catch you by surprise. You didn’t truly expect that he would be anticipating this as much as you have been. It makes you feel guilty for stalling time instead of coming to see him straight away just like you were supposed to. 

You had only lingered back to gather your wits before facing him. It was something that you felt needed to do, after the reactions he wrung out of you while he was performing. 

Even now, you still feel hot as you are picturing him dancing, rolling his body to the music as if he was making love to it. And your body is still reacting the same way. Heat rushes through you, centering at your core. Then you look down again at his throbbing shaft, and that heat shifts into something else. 

You take a deep breath and quickly move your eyes to his face to gain composure. “I was planning to come find you right away, but I had to make sure that everything was going as planned before we could go back on the road,” you try to explain yourself, even if you can tell that what you are giving him is nothing but a lame excuse. 

“Is that so? I guess I can’t blame you for making sure that you’re done with the job. I almost thought that you were avoiding me,” he jokes with a feeble chuckle, to which you quickly respond with,

“I would never do that.” You surprise both him and yourself with your immediate respond. You are mostly surprised at how much you meant it. “There’s no way I could avoid you. Not at times like this, at least.”

Hanbin falls silent, making you tense for a moment. Until he lets out a relieved sigh. “That’s a relief to hear. I’m glad,” he says. A subtle tremor rises from his chest just then, and you can tell that he is still brimming with adrenaline. 

The same adrenaline that he had gotten built up from the stage, and the one that you will have to tame down for him to be able to sleep during the night. 

The same way it has always been. Once the music ends, the overflowing adrenaline that still remains in his body becomes out of control. And it is your job to help him come down from it. 

Only that it would need a different kind of high to make it happen. 

After tonight’s show, you know for sure that this would be a challenging of a task for you to deal with. You can only hope that you won’t get devoured by this new raw energy of his.

“How can I help you this time?” you offer with a soft voice that is nearly drowned by the sound of your rapid heartbeat. 

“Can you—” he starts to say in a whisper, “can you strip out of your clothes this time? Please, I want to see you.” 

His words, despite sounding like an inconspicuous request, are still enough to make you feel the same rushing heat building back up in your body. The only thing that you aren’t completely sure of is whether this feeling comes merely from lust. 

Because the rapid flutters rising in your chest are telling you that there is something else that is present there. Something that is insisting on blooming within you despite all of your efforts to keep it away. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you ask him, trying to make sure that he knows what he is asking of you. That he realises that complying with his request now would only mean that both of you are crossing a new line. 

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t,” he firmly says to you, and you can almost hear his voice growing deeper and heavy with his desire for a moment before he covers it all up to say, “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to go that far.” 

But you do want to. Even if it means you are crossing over boundaries, and things may escalate further than they usually would. 

Somehow, you had predicted that things may turn out differently this time. Unlike those previous nights, lending him your helping hands may not be enough for you to solve this problem of his. Not tonight.

You already felt it since the show earlier, when there was a new raw energy emerging from him throughout the show. As if he was letting loose every pent-up desire on stage, which brought up the rumbling energy now still emerging through his body as he is sitting there, waiting for you to make a decision. 

Fulfilling his request seems risky when you are already getting too deep. You were never supposed to get your emotions involved. Yet it still happened. It happened before you realised it, and now it appears to you that it is already too late for you to try and stop it. 

You have made up your mind to try and ignore your treacherous heart. To focus on doing your job until the final day of his tour. Except that the answer you give him next doesn’t seem to support your decision and your mind decides to take a new risk instead.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you calmly say to him while doing your best not to show how much his words are affecting you. 

“It would be better that way, after all, since you nearly ruined my favourite blouse when you made a mess on me the last time we did this,” you simply add, as you try to convince yourself that there is really nothing else behind this. That you just want to make it more practical. 

Your comment draws a grin to his face, as if he is recalling that salacious night in his head right after you brought it up. The night when you slipped into his dressing room right after a show, using the limited time you had to fix his problem before you were supposed to drive him and the dancers to the hotel where everyone could rest for the night. 

Except that in the rush of him finding release, Hanbin made a complete mess out of himself, and you, when drops of his essence fell all over your blouse. It would have been impossible for people not to notice you coming out of his dressing room wearing nothing but his sweatshirt, had there been people still loitering around after the show was over. 

You had initially believed that your secret was safe with you when you managed to slip out unnoticed, until you remember Shawn’s sly grin earlier when he spoke to you about Hanbin. 

Once again, you try not to dwell on it too much and focus back on the present. Back to the man who is sitting right in front of you, with his chest and cock partly out, as he waits for you to make a move. 

Looking straight into his eyes, you reach down to grip the hem of your blouse and strip it off of your body. Your trousers come next, as you unbutton them at the waist and start pushing the fabric down your hips.

Hanbin’s eyes never waver from you while this is happening. The way his gaze is so focused on you seems to only urge you to continue putting on a show for him. So you begin to sway your hips from side to side as you slowly peel your pants off of you, before letting everything fall on the floor.

Stepping out of your shoes and the pile of your discarded clothes, you leave your undergarments on and stand right between his parted legs. His gaze follows you as you lower yourself to the floor, kneeling down right before him. 

“What do you need me to do next?” 

Hanbin drags his tongue across his lips as he considers his options. Having you kneeling in front of him, with your face hovering close to his crotch is already enough to taunt and challenge him. 

Tension rises between you as he makes you wait. 

The air feels cold on your mostly bare skin, yet your body feels hot as your anticipation increases with each passing second. Being in this position makes you feel completely exposed and helpless, as if you are submitting to his control. Slowly, your knees begin to feel sore from holding up your weight. The rising ache only brings forth the other sensations rising in your body, making you feel sensitive to the slightest movement he makes when he shifts in his seat. 

This wouldn’t be the first time that your body is showing these reactions. When you are made to feel your own carnal desire rising in your body at the thought of pleasing him and fulfilling his needs. 

And this was the reason why you took your sweet time coming to him. Because you couldn’t face him when you had a myriad of emotions rushing through your body. You are already made weak by your forbidden feelings, and it would only be made worse once he brings out your dark desire. 

Because you know that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself once that happens. 

A gentle touch on the top of your head brings your attention back to him before your mind gets too far and your insecurities take over. At the same time, his touch calms you down. 

The moment you look into his eyes, everything else seems to fade away. This is no longer a part of your job, and the world outside of this cabin no longer exists. It stops you from questioning your decision of ever getting yourself involved in this whole thing.

“Help me take these off. I can barely move a muscle since I got here,” he calmly claims with a soft chuckle, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening in your head. 

He probably doesn’t even know how his simple request is making your chest dip. 

You bite back the bashful smile that comes to your face. “Oh, poor you. Here, let me help,” you say to him with a tease, even if it falls short once your eyes return to his twitching erection.

You ignore the warm flutters rising in your chest as you reach up to grab a hold of his waistband. With a firm grip, you start pulling his pants and boxer pants together. Which doesn’t really take a lot of effort when they were barely holding on around his hips, already pushed down just enough for him to free his rigid cock from its restraint. Your fingers graze his skin as you keep pulling them down his hips, causing him to tremble under your touch. 

It gives you some self-satisfaction to be able to draw this kind of reaction from him. It feels good to see that you are not the only one getting affected by all the tension. So you tease him further, keeping light contact with his skin as you continue to bring his clothes down his legs. 

“There. Better?” you ask him with a low voice once the intrusive clothes of his are now gone. 

Seeing him sitting there completely naked leaves you breathless. Yet you find it hard to look away. His erection seems to grow harder under your perusing gaze. It causes the urge to touch him to grow stronger. 

“Touch it,” he suddenly says, as if he knows what you are thinking just by looking at your clenched hands. “Please,” he adds almost breathlessly, “I want to feel your hands on me.” 

Words fail you. While his words pull you like a spell. You reach out to touch him, starting from his thighs, where you trace his skin lightly with the tips of your fingers, drawing light shudders through his body. You continue until you finally reach the area between his legs when you finally stop.

His whole body tenses. Anticipation rolls through him as you move your hand closer. Light fingers start hovering lightly on his hard-on, with only a subtle brush or two grazing at his cock. Each light touch you give him only makes you want more. You want to feel his skin under your palm. To feel the familiar pulse coming from his cock the moment you touch him. Yet you resist the temptation just a bit longer. You want to tease him enough to the point that he feels like he is on the edge before you finally continue. 

And he doesn’t disappoint you when he soon reacts. With a soft whimper, Hanbin subtly pushes his hips up, as if trying to guide you into touching him further.

No longer able to deny your own desire, you finally give in and wrap a gentle hand around the base of his cock. 

At your touch, Hanbin reacts with a groan. His chest trembles as he tries to calm himself with a deep inhale of breath. His hips almost come up from the sofa when you start moving your hand, sliding your gentle grip up and down the length of his cock. 

You continue to move, keeping a steady pace and drawing more and more reactions from him. His rocking hips, his rumbling chest as he moans in pleasure, and his hands that are clenching tightly right by his side. 

You soon notice how quickly he loses control of himself once he starts thrusting back up into your hand. Seeing how badly he needs this release, you give a firm grip around his girth and slowly pick up your speed, moving your hand up and down his length until the sound of his laboured breathing fills the room. 

“Fuck, that’s it. That feels perfect,” he groans with his head tilted back. Shudders after shudders rush through him, and you keep up what you are doing now when he doesn’t make a move to stop you. 

Until you start to feel it coming. 

A pulse rises from his girth, pressing against your palm. and you take it as a cue that it is time for him to reach his climax. After giving him a few more strokes, you lean down and tease the head of his cock with your tongue. He lets out a deep groan once he feels your lips wrapped around the tip, covering him with your warm mouth. 

You continue the light strokes along the length of his shaft and reach down with your other hand, touching his balls with a light hand and start massaging him lightly as you begin licking your way up and down his member. As the sound of his moans increases rapidly, you finally take his whole cock into your mouth and slide all the way down, taking as much as you can until he is deep in your throat. 

You suck hard as you push him in and out of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up and tightening your throat when you come back down to swallow him. With your hand, you continue stroking the rest of his length that you cannot cover, until you feel his muscles tightening, his moans stuttering with heavy breathing, a sign that he is ready to explode. 

With one last stroke, and giving him one last hard suck, you swallow him deeply until it finally happens. His hands come up to the back of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips, thrusting into your mouth. It takes only a few thrusts before he finally comes into your mouth. His warm release falls on your tongue and the cavern of your mouth, with some drops shooting their way to the back of your throat. 

The last one makes you gargle, yet with his hands keeping you in place and your mouth still pumping his length, you make no move to pull away. You continue sucking, swallowing every last drop until the only thing that remains is the constant pulse of his blood pumping from the base of his cock to the tip that is still buried in your throat. 

You don’t stop, until he finally has enough and releases you, and you pull away so his cock pops out of your lips and falls back onto his stomach. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. But once your mind is cleared, you realise too late how hot your body feels now, triggered solely by the act of pleasing him. There is heat rising between your quivering legs, and you somehow know that if you reach down, you will find yourself growing wet. 

Hanbin’s hands return to you, touching your face gently so you can look at him again. 

His face seems flushed after his release, with a mix of afterglow and raw, unfulfilled hunger that refuses to go away. The glow in his eyes makes you grow curious at first, until your eyes trail down his heaving chest, stopping at his toned stomach to see his cock, still hard and mostly rigid even after its release. 

“As you can see, seems like I’m going to need a little more than that,” he says with a lack of regret shown in his voice. 

This situation makes you laugh. “A little?” you tease him, making him grin.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he returns with an easy shrug, while your chest feels heavy at the thought of this continuing into something else. Something more risky. 

You realise that you are not feeling this way because you are unwilling, but because deep down, you know that you want this. You have wanted this for some time, ever since the pleasure which you gain from helping him becomes so addicting and your feelings become deeply involved. 

You can barely hear your own voice under the sound of your heartbeat when you ask him, “So what do you have in mind?” 

Hanbin opens his mouth, only to close it again. “I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want to,” he says while gauging your reaction. Ever since you started spending close, nearly intimate moments like this with him, you have learned that he can be a bit perceptive when it comes to you. 

And it does a lot of things to your heart when he can easily tell what you need. How he always keeps a close eye on you to make sure to notice any discomfort coming from you. 

“No, that’s not what this is,” you answer him with a soft voice as your hands return to touch him again. You trace your fingers on the inner side of his thighs, stopping before you reach his cock when you finally admit to him, “I want this. I want to do all I can to help you.” 

And help myself satiate my needs, the little voice in your head whispers just as your eyes find him. You hate to admit how hopeful you are feeling as you wait, expecting him to express to you exactly what he needs. 

The same way you always make it happen. It makes things easier for you when he guides you through it. Even though it has never been easy for you to deal with the lingering aftermath.

“Good. Now come up here,” he breathlessly says. The need in his voice feels so intense that makes you feel entranced. Pulled by his demand as you carefully plant one knee and the other on either side of him to get over his lap. 

Hanbin has his hands on your waist, helping you up with a gentle hold. Which only makes it hard for you to remain calm when his touch makes your heart stutter. Butterfly wings fluttering wildly from deep within your chest just from that simple touch alone.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, as he notices how you become still under the touch of his hands. There is a deep sigh in his voice. It makes you wonder if he is getting affected by the contact at the same time. 

“Just a bit nervous,” you find yourself admitting to him before you can stop it. You quickly bite your tongue, stopping yourself from suddenly dumping your true feelings and trying to divert his attention. “I never realised how tight this sofa is until we’re both sitting on it together like this.” 

He softly chuckles. “I’ll take care of you,” he says to you gently as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up against his chest. “But if you’re not sure about this—” 

“I’m sure. Positively sure about this,” you quickly cut him off. The words just come out of you before you realise it happening. 

A smile grows on his face. One that makes you swoon and you simply melt into his hold. “That’s all I need to hear,” is all he has to say to you, before he surprises you by pulling you to him and pressing his lips on yours. 

You grow tense for a moment and he slows down, giving you a chance to process this over. Maybe push him away if you are feeling uncomfortable. 

Because he never kissed you on the lips before. Not like this. Not with this much passion and tenderness that makes you feel like your heart has grown wings and they are fluttering wildly in your chest. 

Slowly, you begin to relax, returning his kiss with the same gentleness that he is giving you. The kiss continues on, and on, until he suddenly traces your lips with his tongue, and you are made to feel as if you are melting into hot lava. 

Hanbin’s hand slides up your back. His touch feels distant as you have your mind muddled by his hot kiss. Though your body still arches into his touch, as if having a mind of its own. You run your hands through his messy hair, pulling at his locks while you are returning his kiss. 

A soft tug is felt against the skin on your back. The next thing you know, he is pulling your bra off of you. He pulls back from the kiss as he throws the bra away, while you let out a gasp when a cold breeze touches your skin. 

Hanbin licks his lips as he takes a good, intense look at your bare breasts. “All this time, I’ve always wondered—” 

The sound of the door at the front of the bus being opened cuts him off before he can finish what he is trying to say. Then the sound of low chatters and laughter follows. You immediately wrap your arms around yourself when you realise that some of the boys are already returning from dinner. 

Blood is drained from your face at the thought of being caught in the middle of this. “Oh no, I forgot to lock the doors.” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Hanbin hushes you with a soft murmur while pressing a finger on your lips. “They know that we need our privacy, so no one will be looking for us back here. Just remember to keep it quiet while they’re still out there.” 

Before you have the chance to ask what he means to say, he pulls your head down and presses his lips on yours. Once again, he silences your thoughts until the only thing that you can focus on is the present. 

To focus on him. 

For someone who is filled with tension, Hanbin’s kiss feels gentle. As if he wants to take it slow, to take his time while making sure that you won’t break. The soft touch he keeps on your waist makes you realise that he is giving you a chance to set the pace, to allow you to slip away if you want none of this. 

But there is no escaping this when have already given in, allowing yourself to submit completely to your true desire. It isn’t hard to let yourself go when you can feel from the way he is kissing you that Hanbin wants this as much as you do. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you allow yourself to take more. You meet his kiss by responding to it with the same fervour. You return every mesh of his lips on yours with your own, then you open your mouth to let him slip his tongue right in. 

Hanbin seizes his chance right away, deepening the kiss by pressing harder. His breathing grows heavier as he swirls his tongue around yours, to which you respond by sucking his tongue and pushing back, drawing a faint sound of a groan rumbling through his chest. 

You feel his hands moving right then, tracing your skin and rubbing at your curves, before finding your bottom cheeks. He covers your soft flesh with his palms and gives it a light squeeze, pushing you further into his chest and drawing a warm pulse deep inside your core when your covered pussy rubs against his cock. 

Feeling delirious from his touch and his hot kiss, you run your hands over the smooth muscles on his chest. The tips of your fingers slide down the thin layer of sweat that is covering his skin, while feeling him growing even hotter under your touch. 

All of a sudden, Hanbin pulls away from the kiss. He narrows his eyes when he looks at you, giving you a look filled with lust. 

His gaze moves away from your face as he moves his hands again. His eyes follow his touch as he traces his way up to your breasts. A tremor is visible in his inhale of breath as he gently presses his palms on your soft mounds, matching the subtle tremors that come awake through your body from his touch. 

As soon as his fingers touch your breasts, your nipples grow hard in an instant, and they seem to grow more sensitive the more he touches you that even a soft blow of the breeze makes you shiver. Once he takes notice of this, Hanbin bends his head lower and takes one of the pulsing buds between his lips. He gives a light suck, then brushes his tongue against it. You grit your teeth at the sensation that he is bringing out of you.

You almost forget where you are or the fact that you are no longer alone as Hanbin scrapes his teeth against your flesh, teasing you for a moment before biting to the point of pain. While you resist the urge to moan, your hand wanders down his chest, feeling his heartbeat stuttering under the tips of your fingers, then you continue your way down to his stomach. 

Within moments, your fingers brush the head of his cock. The need to touch him grows stronger then, and you trace your fingertips along his shaft. He moans against your breast, affected by your soft, yet indecent touch, and it pushes him to move further. 

His hand moves down your waist, pulling the waistband of your panties and tries to slip his fingers into the fabric to touch you. Yet your position above him isn’t allowing him to dive deeper to find the source of your pulsing heat. 

With a groan, Hanbin pulls away. He opens his mouth, and you begin to move back, expecting him to tell you to strip out of your panties. But he stops himself as he looks down, studying the offensive fabric for a brief moment before his hands slip under the waistband and he starts pulling.

“Wait, what are you—” You are just starting to question what he is up to when the ripping sound of the fabric fills the room. He doesn’t tear it into pieces like how you had often read it in those steamy romance novels, and he isn’t doing it so expertly either. His brows are furrowed deeply as he struggles with it and it takes him a while before he can get the job done. But as soon as he has the sides ripped up, he pulls the entire thing off of you and tosses it away while cursing out at it. 

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with your mouth gaping open, while he only exhales sharply. 

His brows are still furrowed when he answers you, “I didn’t want you to step down. Can you please wear something thinner next time so it’ll be easier for me to take it off of you?” 

“You can’t be serious?” you ask him with a baffled laugh. 

“You know I don’t joke about things like this,” he says with a sly grin. He may not seem so serious about it when he said it, but knowing him, you know that he truly meant it. “Now, where were we?” 

You are still baffled by his words that you fail to respond in time, and he takes the chance to move his hands down your hips. Hanbin has one hand holding you firmly at your hips as he dips the other between your legs, tracing the tips of his fingers up your inner thighs while gently guiding you to part your legs a bit wider. 

It feels like a struggle to get into position, but you somehow manage. Then he wastes no time to move his hand upward until his fingertips come brushing at your nether lips. 

Your hips lurch forward to meet his touch as he parts them and starts tracing your hot sex. With how sensitive and needy you have become, it doesn’t take much for him to make you start moaning and panting. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs while looking amused, but not surprised. He also seems mesmerised as he looks down at his fingers as he slips then between your folds and easily finds the slick mess that was formed while you were pleasuring him. 

He continues stroking your wet slit, drawing more and more of your arousal so that you can hear the slick sound he makes with his fingers. 

His touch draws a gasp out of your lips, and just when you are just beginning to feel high with pleasure, Hanbin bends down and starts sucking at your breast again, intensifying the sensation further that you simply lose all control of your body. 

Your hips begin to rock, moving back and forth against his touch and in tune with each stroke of his fingers on your slit. As he slides his fingers to find your clit, your moan grows a bit louder, and your movement becomes more erratic as you are drunk with carnal pleasure. 

Hanbin takes this chance to grow bold with his touch, as he gently slides a finger into your tight pussy. He feels you clenching around him tightly in response, and he begins pumping his digit in and out of you, drawing more shudders through your body with each stroke. 

While he works his fingers into your pussy, he uses his thumb to explore around it. He glides the wet digit over your clit and presses down while he pushes the rest of his fingers into your depth. 

You let out a breathy moan. Something that isn’t meant to happen, but the wanton sound comes out with your exhale of breath. And in your effort to try to hold back from erupting in pleasure, you simply fail to control yourself. 

Yet the sound you are making only draws an approving sound rumbling through his chest. He gives you a muffled moan as he keeps his mouth latched onto your breast possessively. 

Beyond the blissful fog filling your head, you can hear the faint sounds of footsteps walking away, bags being dropped, and then the distant voice saying something about leaving dinner behind and getting drinks, before you can hear the door of the bus closing. You can barely recognise those sounds, and it doesn’t register to you what it means at first, until you finally remember that you haven’t been alone on the bus for quite a while. 

Yet now that they are gone, there is nothing left behind but silence. The sounds of your ragged breath and his soft groan are the only ones left to fill the room. 

Hanbin finally releases your breast with the sound of a pop coming out of his lips. His hand quickly comes to where his mouth has been, though it doesn’t mean that he is done working his mouth on your skin. From your breasts, he traces your skin with his hot lips—up to your collarbones, then lingering on the side of your neck. 

Your head falls back. A content sigh slips out of your lips from the way he is tasting you, kissing and nibbling around the spot beneath your ear which has always been quite sensitive.

“I need to be inside you,” he finally asks you with his lips grazing against your neck. He makes it hard for you to respond with his hot kisses pressing on your skin and his fingers moving in slow circles against your slit. 

The pleasure that he wrings out of your body feels maddening. It builds in a slow rise, but is still enough to make you feel high in bliss.

“I—” you sigh out an answer, only to continue with a series of moans as you rock your hips on his lap. Too lost in your wanton need, you grind against his fingers, needing something more. Something to get you to find your release.

“I know that you want it too. I can feel it whenever you try to hold back,” he whispers as he leans back, searching for your truth with his deep gaze looking straight into your eyes. Then he surprises you, making you wonder if you have always been so transparent when he asks, “Don’t you ever feel frustrated at night when you need something but can’t have it? Why deny yourself of pleasure when I’m right here?” 

You hate how right he is and you hate that you can’t even deny every word he just said to you. 

Every time you are done with your carnal favours, you always come out of it feeling unsettled. You have always found yourself struggling on your own in the aftermath, left to spend the long hours in those nights tossing and turning in bed. 

Alone and horny. 

Frustrated because you are left with a need that has yet to be fulfilled. 

Disappointed because you have no other way to find release other than your own touch. Which would never be sufficient to give you exactly what you need.

He pushes his fingers back into your pussy, drawing a low moan out of your lips which he covers with a kiss. “Let me return the favour, baby. You’ve done so much for me. Let me do this,” he murmurs against your lips before pressing a gentle kiss, giving you time to answer, while using every sinful touch he is giving you to push you into opening up. 

Though there is really no need for him to do it, when you have already made up your mind the moment you heard his offer the first time.   

Because how are you supposed to refuse when he keeps saying all the right things? And when you can clearly see how genuine he is being? Or when your body is humming with a wanton need that keeps begging to be released, and he keeps touching you at the right places which gives you carnal pleasure? 

“If you want to talk about returning favours,” you start to answer him with a sigh while running your fingers down his heaving chest, “you should know that I only take what I am owed.” 

Hanbin grins at this. He pulls back slowly while drawing his fingers out of your tight pussy, leaving behind a shuddering bliss in its wake. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, each one coated with your slick arousal, which he lowly licks with his tongue until he tastes every last drop. 

The sight of him drinking your essence captivates you so that your head spins, almost making you miss what he says to you next, “You don’t have to worry about that at all. I plan on paying everything that I owe you—” he says before tasting the last drop and bringing his hands back to your hips, “even if it takes all night long to pay my debt.” 

“Really?” you ask him, “I’ll keep that in mind, just don’t take back your words once we begin.” 

You reach down, grabbing his hard erection and finding it already grown back to its full girth while he was pleasing you. You give him a few strokes, drawing a gasp from his lips, before aligning the hard tip of his cock right at your entrance. 

The urge to sit down on his hard-on feels so strong. Yet you fight it just a bit longer. You have known that you have grown awfully wet down below, and there is no doubt a mess has been created there from his sinful touches. You can hear the sound of your slick arousal echoing in the room as you guide the tip of his cock back and forth against your slit, coating him with your essence. 

You continue this until you are ready. Until you feel him pushing his hips upward slightly to press his cock against your pussy. With a shudder, you put his cock right back at your entrance and slowly start lowering yourself on him. The sound of his deep moan erupts as you slowly sink down the length of his cock, stopping briefly when there is some restraint from your pulsing walls, keeping you from taking him deeper. 

“Fuck, so tight—” he groans deeply, while you can only respond back with a soft mewl. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” is the only thing that you can give him when words fail you. Spasm after spasm of pleasure rocks through you even when you are both silent, remaining in a standstill while your bodies are slowly adjusting to one another. 

“We need to move, baby. You’re sucking me and we’re barely starting.” 

It feels tight, and your legs are trembling so much that it almost makes it hard for you to move. Even pushing yourself up and down his length seems like an effort. 

But once the series of pulses begins to wane down, you finally gather enough will to start moving. After moving slightly back and forth, nearly rocking against him, you manage to take more of him. Taking him inch by delicate inch until he is completely embedded inside your slick heat. 

With a shuddering moan, you slump forward against his chest. Because the pleasure you are feeling with him buried deep inside you is too much. 

He makes you feel full. His girth seems to be the perfect fit inside you. He also makes you feel a myriad of sensations that you have never felt before even just by filling you up like this. 

Perhaps it has been too long since you have gotten laid that your body responds to him so easily. It has been hard for you to hook up with anyone while you are attached to this job, and while you dedicated your long hours to fulfil his needs. 

Hanbin notices the way your body is taking its time to adjust to the sensation rushing through you. Instead of rushing through things, he tightens his hold on your waist to keep you close, holding you up while you let the shudders pass. 

Hot kisses are pressed on your neck, chin, and then your face, as Hanbin tries to soothe your body to relax against him and help you embrace the pleasure. It takes a moment, but you finally feel the tension in your body lessening in his hold. 

That is when you start moving. 

Starting with tentative rocking at first, before you slowly start gaining more and more confidence just as the rush of pleasure continues to build up and take over. Scooting forward and back, you rub yourself against his length. Then you gather enough strength on your legs and begin moving up and down his length, causing his cock to retreat and reenter you with each move. 

Your carnal desire quickly takes over control, and your body continues to move naturally in a steady rocking. He raises his hands and begins caressing your breasts, using the rhythm of your rocking hips to gently knead your soft flesh. 

“That feels—good,” you moan softly, mewling while arching your chest into him so you can press your breasts into his palms. He takes this chance to pinch your nipples, playing with them by rubbing and rolling them between his thumbs and forefinger, until he draws an intense wave of pleasure rushing throughout your body. 

Your rocking quickens, and with the way you are arching into him, you are inadvertently grinding your clit against his pubic bone, drawing more and more of those delicate shivers of pleasure surging inside you. They rise through your chest and neck, and once your legs begin to quiver harder, you start losing balance and the rocking of your hips grows unsteady. 

His hands come down to your hips, giving you a firm hold to keep you from flailing and falling back from the sofa. Humming softly, Hanbin becomes aware of the way you are shaking on top of him. He gives you a moment to ride your pleasure before he takes over and starts pumping his cock into you. 

“I...fucking…knew it,” he groans, saying each word between each thrust he is giving you. He slams harder and harder, closing his eyes as he takes this moment to savour the pleasure that he is feeling from being inside you.

“I’ve pictured this so many times, and it feels way better than I imagined it would,” you hear him say with ragged breaths. Your hips buck in surprise, but he tightens his grip on your hips and increases the pace of his fucking, pushing all thoughts, any word you wanted to say to him, out the window. 

Your fingers sink deeper into his bare shoulders as you hold on tightly to him through the rough fucking he is giving you. The pleasure feels so intense. But the sudden tightness in your chest has nothing to do with the sparks rising right where you are joined, when your heart seems to swell at his admission.

To even think that he has been thinking of you this way, for wanting this same thing as you do for a long time, seems unfathomable. 

But you cannot say that you had never suspected it before. You still remember faintly hearing him say your name on that first night you caught him pleasing himself, even if you had suppressed this memory to the back of your mind in your denial. Though the rest of the time you saw the signs had been real, when he kept his eyes open each time you assisted him with his needs, refusing to look away from you as he embraced his release. 

You open your eyes just as he does the same. The look you see coming out of his gaze makes your heart lodged higher in your chest. Because beyond the lust, beyond the desire, you see deep longing looking back at you, returning every yearning that you feel for him as he continues to rock his hips in rapid successions. 

Hanbin pulls your head down until your mouths are joined. He drinks in the sounds of your moans with a deep kiss. Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust he keeps giving you. Each hard tip keeps rubbing against his chest, drawing more wicked sensations through your body which pushes you closer towards your climax. 

Right before you can reach it, Hanbin suddenly stops. He trembles as he holds back from his own release, starting from his legs that are locked under your weight to his chest which heaves with deep, ragged breaths. 

You open your mouth to protest and whine, but stop yourself when you look into his eyes. You can see his intention looking back at you and instantly know that this is not over yet. 

He may have denied both of you from your final release, but he is not done with you yet. 

Keeping his hands on your hips, he gives you a firm hold as he rolls your bodies together, flipping your positions until you are laid right beneath him. 

He lifts your legs in the air, sending you sinking into the sofa as he places your legs on his shoulders. In a blink of an eye, he slides his cock back into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips when he pushes in with one firm thrust, drawing a rapid set of spasms from your walls pressing around him. As you look up to him, his eyes are dark with lust, clear desire written all over his face when he begins rocking, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. 

“Hanbin—!” you hiss out his name as he continues fucking you to oblivion. 

Yet hearing you calling out his name seems to work like a spell. It draws him to move quicker, pumping deeper inside you, until all that you can feel is his hardness pushing in and filling you up completely to the brim. 

Allowing himself to get lost in his carnal desire, he no longer cares about the noises that he draws out from both of you while he chases for his release. It feels so intense, so hot, so carnal, that you almost feel like you are melting into the sofa while your whole body trembles violently under each of his hard thrusts. 

Being in this position, you are made helpless. With your body being folded under his weight, it makes you feel off-balanced. There is no escape as he drives into you, pushing you into the height of bliss. 

But you refuse to stay still, wanting to give back and push you both further and faster to find climax. Reaching up, you hold on tightly to his biceps. Keeping a steady leverage there as you rock your hips back up, returning every thrust he is giving you with your own push. 

You scream out his name at how good it feels. The pleasure that feels like ecstasy rolling through your body, shooting straight back up to his rocking hips until you feel him shuddering above you. 

“That feels so good. I’m close, baby,” he groans, just as you feel the first wave of your climax building rapidly inside you. 

“Please, Hanbin. I’m also close,” you moan deeply, almost breathless with the intensity of your pleasure taking over your body. “I’m going to come.” 

He reaches down between your rocking bodies without missing a single thrust. His fingers come down right at where you are joined. With a trembling groan, he finds your clit and gives it a pinch. 

Pain and pleasure spark through your body. Your muscles grow tight, clenching around him, before your orgasm comes crashing through your body, one intense spasm to another. Hanbin cups the nape of your neck as he continues to pump into you hard and fast, fucking you through your orgasm until it feels like it will never end. 

“Fuck—you’re so tight, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gripping at me.” 

His voice fades in and out as your orgasm rolls through you. Once again, your pussy clenches tightly around him, and your final orgasm finally pushes him through his own. He comes with a shout, and you feel him twitching inside you before he starts shooting his warm release inside you. His slow rocking carries on with pulse after pulse of his climax until he fills you up with the very last drop of cum. 

Exhausted and spent, Hanbin collapsed on top of you, completely out of breath. While you no longer have the energy to push him away. He waits until all the spasms growing in your bodies start to calm down when he finally pulls out of you. 

While you fall helplessly on the sofa, breathless and high in your blissful fog, Hanbin moves away to grab a clean paper towel before returning to you. 

He takes his time taking care of you, gently cleaning you off from the mess that has been created from your intense lovemaking. Each delicate brush on your skin draws light sparks from your body that still feels sensitive to the touch. Slowly, he draws your senses back alive, yet his soothing touches help you relax with a content sigh. 

Once he is done, Hanbin rolls you over to face him as he falls right beside you on the plush sofa.

As you lie there by his side, in a post-orgasmic bliss and limbs that feel too heavy for you to move, your mind begins to race. There is no stopping it when you start wondering, questioning about what will happen next. You have crossed boundaries as his personal aid, and what you had taken as your personal responsibility to take care of him has now become something else. 

“That was—” you try to speak once you find your voice again. Yet no words come out of you when you have no idea what to say to him. 

“Amazing? Sensational?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows. 

You laugh, shaking your head even when deep down, you cannot really deny it. It was amazing. Shocking and fully insane, may also be the perfect way to describe it.

As you lie down beside him in the tight space of the plush sofa bed, you look at his face closely, still unable to believe that what just happened was real. 

“I mean, whatever works. As long as you enjoyed it,” you find yourself saying this to him as you try to process this moment. 

Because everything feels like a dream. 

Except what remains from your orgasm still lingers like a murmur through your entire body, showing you how real everything was. There is the slickness you still feel oozing out of you when you shift closer to him. Not to mention the soreness between your legs that is still present.

Even lying down side by side with him like this doesn’t feel real at all. You may have spent the past few weeks flirting, teasing, and even satisfying each other. Yet post-coital intimacy has never been a thing to share between you. 

Never before tonight. 

“Me? What about you? I thought I was paying my debts to you?” he asks you with a tease, though he seems genuinely curious to hear your answer. 

“I—” you try to speak, feeling a tug at your heartstrings knowing that he cares. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Your smile grows when you see him smiling at your answer. “Let’s just say that it was a good start to pay back what I’m owed.” 

Hearing this, Hanbin laughs. 

He surprises you once again when he pulls you to his chest and gives you a kiss, as if it is the most normal thing for him to do. And you return his kiss as easily as though you are two regular lovers. As if this isn’t the first time you are being this close. To be this intimate, aside from the special arrangement that you have made with each other. 

“Can we—” he says breathlessly as he breaks away from the kiss. “Can we continue like this for a while, just until this tour is over?” 

Just like that, any hope that had a chance to bloom in your chest is depleted. Disappointment washes through you for thinking that this actually has an expiration date. Just when you finally have the courage to admit your true feelings. 

But then your spirit is quickly lifted when Hanbin continues to add, “Once we’re done with this tour and later when we’re back home, let’s talk about this further. That is, only if you want to. I just don’t want you to think that I’m only taking advantage of you and forget everything once we’re back.” 

This time, when you feel that unsolicited hope brewing in your chest again, you do nothing to suppress it or hold it in. You don’t even try to deny it. There is no point in denying it now, after all. As it will always be there, no matter what you do to ignore it. 

And now that the final line has been crossed, you know that there is no turning back. 

“Sure, I’d like that,” you whisper to him with a smile, and with a genuine trust knowing that Hanbin always keeps his words to you.

Just like how he keeps his words about spending the entire night making up to you for all the favours that you are owed. 

Hours later, as the bus continues its journey towards its next destination, both you and Hanbin are still huddled up in the back cabin. The room has grown hot, and the passion that you share has yet to come down. 

A soft moan escapes you when he rocks his hips, pumping deeper into you in a series of rapid thrusts, and he quickly presses a finger on your lips to stop you from making too much noise. “Keep your voice down, baby. You’ll wake everyone,” he urgently whispers. 

Being in your current position, with your folded knees sinking deeper into the sofa and your hands barely able to hold your upper body up against his relentless pounding coming from behind, it really is becoming impossible for you to hold back. “I can’t,” you whisper to him between your strained moans. “It’s too much.” 

After a series of orgasms that he has been giving you all night, with only a brief reprieve taken when you took a break to have dinner—specially delivered to you by Shawn and the dancers while you were both busy in the back—it really is becoming a bit too much. 

Your body has taken a lot of his rough lovemaking that a single thrust is enough to ignite the sparks within you. Your skin has grown too warm, your pussy is tender, and your muscles are getting too sore to keep you up. 

“I know, I’m so sorry. Just a little bit more, okay?” he pleads with you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, slowly quickening his pace as he feels the spasms of your climax rising yet again, with your muscles pressing around his cock in a possessive grip. 

You bend forward and lift your hips higher to take everything that he is giving you. While his words echo through your mind as you embrace the building pleasure, reminding you of the promise that he gave to you earlier. 

Until this tour is over. 

Just one more show. 

You hold on to those words to gain strength. But after what you are experiencing tonight, and after witnessing the adrenaline rush that went through him after tonight’s show, the final arrangement waiting for you at the end of this tour no longer seems to be an easy fix. 

“I doubt that it’ll be anything ‘little’ when it comes to you,” you retort back to him with a moan, “you’re insatiable.” 

Hanbin lets out a soft chuckle as he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder. “It wasn’t my fault this time. You started it first.” 

You hide your smile at his words. Because he was right, after all.

After your tryst continued for a while and you were lying on his side, tracing the lines on his bare chest, the memory of his alluring dance came through your mind. It took you back to the moment you were made to feel hot from the sight of him rocking his hips, and how his sweat-covered chest kept glowing under the stage lights while he was dancing, keeping you under his spell.

That memory gave you the urge to start touching him. Starting with the touch of your fingers tracing down his skin, before you replaced your naughty hands with your lips when you traced the lines on his torso with your kisses. And you kept going lower, and lower, reaching the source of his arousal, until he finally snapped. 

“Guilty as charged,” you admit to him with a deep moan just as he pushes deep into you. “I’ll take all the responsibility for this one.” 

“Good. Because I’m not going easy with you this time,” he says, as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster, while you can only take everything until you are quickly pushed towards the precipice of your climax. 

He makes you bite your ripped panties as he keeps pounding into you, stopping any sounds that may come out through your lips as you embrace your climax. Making sure that your voice won’t wake the boys who are sleeping soundly in their personal bunk beds while the bus continues to drive through the night towards its final destination. 

⤑ Author’s Note | This was supposed to be posted on his birthday, but as always, things don’t always go as planned when it comes to scheduling in my case. I’m glad that I still got to finish this because the idea had been stuck in my head since I’ve been following B.I’s journey through his European tour this year, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if I didn’t write it down right away. I hope you enjoyed this thrilling experience. Please leave kudos/likes, comments, and share/reblog it if you liked what you read. Any other form of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you for reading!

— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Nov 10th, 2023

[saberamane]

...so I have a very specific excerpt from a mid-work fantasy I had today.

All you need to know is Desmond is a bartender at a new bar, conveniently owned by Ezio's family in modern times (assassin's may or may not exist, it really doesn't matter). Giovanni still is the head of a bank and very Important and has decided to have a Very Important Bussiness Dinner at his son's (Ezio) restaurant. It's an authentic Italian place, of course, with all the recipes made by Maria. Friday nights have live, Italian music.

On this specific night, their live performers have failed to appear, and Giovanni's Very Important Bussiness Dinner guests are expecting authentic Italian cuisine and live music. Things are looking bad.

Desmond, newly hired bartender and trying to stay on his new bosses good side (Claudia and Federico also work in the restaurant, but Ezio is the 'main' boss), overhears their predicament and goes all 'I know a guy...'

Cue cousin Clay, who is a classicly trained pianist, being unexpectedly called by his little cousin for a favor.

Clay is not what the Auditore were expecting when he shows up. Ripped jeans, leather jacket, pierced ears, combat boots... Desmond did not mention Clay worked as a bouncer at a club, and dressed like he was in a biker gang...

'Don't worry, I'll fix him up before the performance.'

Clay, in the staff room, trying to squeeze into Desmond's spare uniform.

'Your clothes sizing makes no fucking sense Desmond. Tiniest waist I've ever seen on a man, but with a fat ass and thunder thighs to put a woman to shame. What the fuck is your gym routine?' The black dress pants Clay is currently trying to fit into are distressed where he is trying to pull up the zipper. The waist is just not big enough. The button isn't going to hold, the zipper won't stay up, the seams are straining...

Meanwhile, the Auditore siblings are huddled in the kitchen, eyeing their fathers potential new clients from the little windows in the kitchen doors. They look impressed, so far. The decor is high-end, the wine fantastic, the food both authentic and good...

The entertainment though... Playing the piano is all well and good, but the singer is usually singing in Italian... Would their father's potential clients still be impressed with an English singer??

Clay and Desmond set up on the stage, Clay looking... mostly presentable. There aren't many professional musicians that play classical music with that many studs in their ears...

But Clay plays beautifully, and Desmond can sing? And it's in Italian??

The night goes a lot better than expected after the last-minute canceling of their usual musicians. Desmond and Clay wow the patrons of the restaurant, their father's new clients sign on with enthusiasm.

Desmond and Clay are offered to perform every Friday, should they wish it. It earns Desmond not only an extra check each week, but also an uptick in his tips. Clay, even hating playing something as prissy as piano, can't say no with Desmond's big doe eyes staring at him.

And well...Desmond's employers are worth coming back around to see... Especially when Clay catches the eldest Auditore son eyeing him up and own covertly.

And besides... Clay would do nearly anything to help out his baby cousin. Even something as embarrassing as playing piano.

Especially if the promise of a certain man's attention is on the table.

[the-ria]

I'm back at it again with kiljoys headcanons and AUs 😩

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This is my idea of a poster or a cover for the story's epilogue. Continuing the plot of TFK:California, we follow The Girl and her life in the zones long past the death of the Killjoys and a few years after the raid on Battery city. She tries to find a new purpose and a new place in the desert while being haunted by memories of people from her past

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ALSO while I was looking for reference pictures for this piece, I found Grace's page. She's built a career as a professional musician and it just so turns out that she released a new EP just the other day :D So consider checking it out for yourself @ graceclark.music (insta)

[steddiewithachance]

Will You Still Need Me?

Summary: Steve Harrington is avoiding telling his professional-musician-boyfriend, Eddie, that he's going deaf because he's worried about what will happen when he does.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Or Read on AO3

June 13, 1992: A month later

Steve startles awake when he hears something fall on the other side of the apartment. The bed’s empty, he notices. That's disappointing. Steve brushes a hand across Eddie’s side of the bed to feel how cold it is, to check how long Eddie’s been up for, but he pauses when he feels a piece of paper where his boyfriend should be. Did Eddie leave a note? That goof.

Steve snatches it off the pillow and holds it over his face.

Steve, 

I was going to recite to you this big long monologue of all the reasons I love you and all the ways you’re important to me, but maybe it’s better if you read them. Don’t want you to miss a single syllable of my devotion to you, Sweetness. So I made a long cheesy trail of notes for you to follow, don’t make fun of me for it.

Yours Always,

Teddy

Steve is still half asleep so it takes him another groggy read-through to understand what he’s looking at. 

He sits up and does indeed see a trail of little pink notes, photographs, and rose petals twisting around the bedroom, under the door, and presumably down the hall. And Steve’s heart is pounding because, well he doesn’t want to get his hopes up or anything, but this sappy romantic gesture sounds like a precursor to something bigger. He’s frozen in place, too afraid to move. He eventually scoots off the bed and picks up the first note. 

‘I love you for engaging in my interests even though I wouldn’t blame you for not caring.’ It’s paired with an old photo of a DND game with the kids. Eddie’s DMing with Steve on his lap. 

The next few: ‘I love you for always trying to make little kids in shopping carts smile when we pass them at the store.’ and ‘I love how you can tell if I wasn’t in the shower long enough to condition my hair to your high standards so you make me get back in and do it right. Sometimes I take quick showers just so you’ll lay into me for it.’

The notes and photos are a lot more random than Steve had anticipated. ‘I love the way you will patiently explain the rules of various sports to me even when it’s been seven years of watching games together and I still don’t get it.’ There’s a photo near that note that was taken by Robin of the time Steve and Eddie swapped clothes at a sleepover. Eddie’s posing in Steve’s letterman jacket and tiny gym shorts and Steve is giggling in the background dressed in leather and denim. 

Steve gets to the door and realizes none of the notes have mentioned music or anything related to Eddie’s shows at all. Steve wonders if it was a conscious decision. Wonders if Eddie was being sensitive about Steve’s hearing problem. He swings the door open to see the trail continue all the way down the hall and around the corner. He huffs and keeps reading. There are notes about being a good “mom”, one about Eddie cherishing the nights they cook together. There’s a note about Steve’s smile, what it felt like to decorate their first apartment together, how Eddie loves that both of them have taken to calling Wayne “Pops”, but none about music. When Steve finally rounds the corner he sees Eddie sitting on the couch nervously.

“This was actually a terrible idea because I had to listen to you slowly shuffle down the hallway reading my notes. My anxiety is at an all-time high!” Eddie announces dramatically and Steve laughs. 

On the coffee table in front of him, there’s a big bouquet of flowers and a basket full of snacks and skin/hair care products that Steve loves. This is all a fucking lot. Positive attention makes Steve’s skin crawl. Eddie pats the couch and Steve slowly ambles over. He sits down and proceeds to not know what to do with himself.

“Stevie,” Eddie digs into his pocket and sets a little green velvet box on Steve’s thigh. 

Oh boy. 

“Obviously we can’t do anything legal, but I still want you to know that I wanna be yours forever. A tangible promise of loyalty. Is that okay?” 

Steve covers his face. He doesn’t know how people handle being proposed to in public. It’s mortifying enough in private. All he can do is nod. He feels Eddie prop the little box open. Inside is a golden ring, patterned with fancy flourishes. It reminds Steve of ornate picture frames in art galleries. He likes it a lot. Steve holds out his left hand.

Eddie beams, slips the ring on, and looks like he’s relieved it fits.

“Mwahaha. You’re mine now.” Eddie proclaims with the tone he uses to voice villains when he plays DND. Then he grabs Steve’s left hand and pushes the middle and ring finger down while pulling out the thumb, pointer, and pinky. Steve’s pinky finger barely stays up on its own but Eddie gives him a coy smile.

“This means ‘I love you’ in sign language.” 

And that’s the first expression Steve learns in ASL.

[thetaoofzoe]

This is so random but...

Reading the comment section on Elvis and Elvis reaction videos is one of my favourite thing to do. Sometimes the comments are horrendous, but more often than not they are fun and appreciative. Then there are those that make you want to jump for joy. I want to share one of those now:

"I had never believed it when my professor in college, both a musicologist and professional symphony musician, himself, told me that he viewed Elvis Presley to be the greatest overall singer of all time. "Why?," "What the hell?," so many of us said? With him first going on to ask what's Frank Sinatra's greatest and/or signature song? "My Way," someone eventually said and then the professor proceeded to show us various polls from over the years which listed Sinatra as the greatest singer ever.

Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin were also on top of some, and Elvis, too, on a few. But the point of the exercise was to simply show us Sinatra was considered by many, though it's subjective, to be the greatest. The class then listened to Sinatra's "My Way," and then Elvis' version, back to back.

With the room being roughly split as to whose version was better, "which proved what I thought?" But then the professor showed us Elvis rocking out to 'Trying to Get to You' from the Elvis 1968 Comeback Special. With the point ultimately being that regardless of whose version of 'My Way" you preferred, Elvis was right there, totally at home playing in Sinatra's backyard for lack of better parlance.

But as to Sinatra playing in Elvis' backyard, he said, it couldn't be done, as he said "[i]magine Sinatra, (who he totally loved) trying to do that rock number?" Then going on to say that he had found no singer who had ever sang more genres, more majestically, than Elvis, & he challenged us to find out for ourselves by looking at his full catalogue of Rock, Pop, Soul, Country, Ballads, Gospel and more.

And, when done, I admit I became a convert who was so, so doubtful, at first, I can't even begin to tell you. But from rocking out to 'Trying to Get to You' from that Elvis 1968 Comeback Special, to singing about the dream of humanity coming together with "If I Can Dream," from the same show, I believe you will see what I mean.

Elvis even had a voice that could be operatic if you go and listen to 'Hurt' and his version of "You'll Never Walk Alone" will tell you why he has also sold more gospel records than anyone, as well as just tons more, overall. But, with pop and 'Such A Night' to a ballad such as 'They Remind Me Too Much of You,' he did it all, and so, so damn well. While for soul, check out 'Long Black Limousine' or 'You're Wearin' That Loved on Look' which is a bit of another number.

Because as Elvis' one album cover says, there's 'Something for Everybody.' Also, and if ultimately you don't think Elvis is the best, that's totally cool as there really is something for everyone!;-) Great channel and I wish you the best!!! ~ Christopher Tyler"

thank you Christopher Tyler.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Girl

This is my submission for the Eras fic challenge graciously organized by @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston. The song assigned to me was "Getaway Car" I had a really hard time coming up with a player and an idea that I could build on. So for those that might be less familiar with this song (like me), from what I read, the lyrics can be tied to Taylor's relationship ending with Calvin Harris and her romance with Tom Hiddleston. Using this as the foundation, in this fic, the player I chose - Jeremy Swayman will be "Taylor" in the story. The fic itself heavily showcases a Canadian group called City and Colour. When I heard Jeremy sing and play guitar in the Face Off docuseries, I likened him to Dallas Green, the lead singer. This is my first time writing for Jeremy so I hope you like it, and thank you again for organizing such an awesome challenge.

Warnings - none other than profanity. Alludes to a partner cheating. Apologies if I missed anything.

Word Count - approx 6k

For anyone wanting to hear the City and Colour songs noted in the story: The Girl Waiting

Jeremy’s hubcaps grazed the curb as he slowed, squinting at the row of elegant houses lining the quiet street. He double-checked the address showing on his GPS, then shifted his gaze back to the home in front of him. It had to be the right place. His eyes took in the towering Victorian style mansion, its brick work, tan in colour accented by ornate gray-green trim, and he shifted uneasily in his seat. He hadn’t expected anything quite like this—a recording studio tucked away among the historic mansions of Boston’s Beacon Hill neighborhood.

The house loomed over him as he stepped out, guitar case in hand, its weathered charm giving off the look of a travelling musician. He fidgeted and tried to shake off the nerves prickling under his skin. This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He should’ve gone somewhere more modern, more professional—or maybe not at all.

Before he could tuck tail and run, the front door swung open. A woman stepped out onto the porch, her loose sweater slipping slightly off one shoulder, her sandy-brown hair catching the autumn afternoon sunlight. She smiled—a natural, easy smile that disarmed him almost immediately.

“Jeremy Swayman - so nice to meet you” she said, her voice light and friendly. “I’m Rowan. Come on in.”

He paused, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for—thanks for squeezing me in.”

She waved him off as if it were no trouble at all. “Not a problem. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As she led him up the steps and through the wide wooden door, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he knew her from somewhere. Her voice, her face—something about her triggered an odd familiarity that he couldn’t quite place. But when she caught him sneaking a glance at her, her expression stayed neutral. If she noticed his curiosity, she didn’t let on.

Inside, the house smelled faintly of aged wood and a light scent of fresh linens. The checkerboard floor in the main entrance lead to a grand staircase, and beyond that was the recording space just down a flight of stairs. The studio was intimate but well-equipped, with a mix of modern gear and vintage touches. Rowan moved through it with an effortless confidence, and Jeremy found himself relaxing despite his earlier hesitation.

“So,” she said, motioning for him to take a seat on the worn leather couch by the wall. “What brings you here today?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “It’s, uh, for my girlfriend. Our anniversary’s coming up, and I wanted to do something special. Record a song for her. We’re uh - going through…well, something. I guess I just want something to say that I get how hard her life is sometimes - being with, well - me.”

Rowan’s eyebrows lifted, her lips curving into a smile. “That’s a really beautiful gesture. Do you have a song in mind?”

Jeremy hesitated. “Not… really. I mean, I had a couple ideas, but…” He sighed. “Honestly, my brain’s kind of fried right now. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

Rowan nodded, her expression shifting to something softer. “That’s okay. We’ll figure something out.” She crossed the room and grabbed an acoustic guitar propped against a corner. “Let’s start simple.”

She sat on the edge of a stool, fingers dancing over the strings as she flipped through a worn catalogue of song titles. “Any particular vibe you’re going for? Romantic? Upbeat? Nostalgic?”

“Nostalgic, I guess,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Something meaningful but… not too cheesy.”

Rowan chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Got it. Let’s see…” She played a few opening chords of ‘Patience’ by Guns ‘n Roses, then another, ‘You and Me’ by Lifehouse, humming softly as she tested the waters. Jeremy listened, but nothing clicked. His mind was too cluttered, too distracted by the pressure of his collapsing relationship and everything else that had gone on recently with his newly signed contract weighing him down.

And then Rowan shifted, her head tilting slightly as if an idea had just occurred to her. “How about this one?” she asked, her fingers brushing over the strings.

The melody was soft, almost haunting, and then she began to sing:

“I wish I could do better by you, 'cause that's what you deserve…”

Jeremy froze. Her voice wasn’t just good—it was incredible. Rich and soulful, with a sweetness that made the lyrics feel like they were meant for this song. He barely heard the words; all he could focus on was her, the way she poured herself into the song as if it came straight from her heart.

By the time she finished the verse, he realized he’d been staring. She caught his gaze, her lips quirking into a smile.

“City and Colour,” she said, breaking the silence. “The Girl. I think the lyrics fit your situation perfectly. I’m sure it’s not an easy balancing act between your career and your lives together.”

He blinked, his voice catching in his throat. “Yeah,” he managed, though his thoughts were spinning.

The song was beautiful—the lyrics were perfect… if only they actually applied to his girlfriend, Aileen. Jeremy had uncovered her duplicity in their relationship, a more troubling side of her personality revealed during his difficult salary arbitration the year before. At a time when he needed support, Aileen’s comments throughout the summer of 2023 had done nothing but highlight her true colors. Now, with his signature inked on an eight-year contract—negotiated publicly at times in the media—Aileen acted as though she were owed something simply for her presence during the standoff between Jeremy and the Boston Bruins.

Jeremy had hoped that doing something to remind her of the times that were loving and fun—rather than riddled with angst and harsh words—might help them get through this low point.

Rowan set her guitar aside, resting it gently against the stool, and tilted her head at Jeremy. “Alright, I think I’ve got a good sense of the style you’re going for. But now, it’s your turn.”

Jeremy blinked, looking slightly panicked. “My turn?”

She smiled, reassuring but firm. “Yeah. I need to hear what I’m working with. No pressure—I just want to get a feel for your range.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his unease evident. “I mean, I play guitar… but singing’s not really my thing. I’m just a goalie, you know?”

Rowan laughed softly, leaning back on the stool. “I think you’re selling yourself short. Dallas Green’s style is about pure emotion, not perfection - even though I think his voice is as close to perfection as they come. Besides, you don’t have to be a pro—you just have to mean it.”

Jeremy hesitated, shifting in his seat. His fingers drummed against his knees. “What do you want me to sing?”

She thought for a moment, then picked up her guitar again. “How about this? I’ll play the chords for ‘The Girl.’ You just follow along. No one’s judging here—it’s just the two of us.”

He gave a reluctant nod, his grip tightening slightly on the armrest before he stood. “Alright… but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As Rowan started strumming, Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The first note came out hesitant, barely above a whisper, but soon his voice steadied. It wasn’t polished, but it was honest and filled with a depth Rowan hadn’t expected. By the time he hit the chorus, his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She was definitely impressed.

When he finished, Jeremy looked up, half-expecting her to laugh or offer some fake version of applause. Reactions that reminded him of Aileen. Instead, she stared at him, her eyes wide and sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place.

“You’ve got something - I’m just floored here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Got what?” he asked, shifting awkwardly.

“That thing,” she said, gesturing vaguely but enthusiastically. “Your tone, your emotion— it’s beautiful. You might not realize it, but your voice can tell a story.”

Jeremy’s ears reddened. “I don’t know about that…”

“I do,” she countered supportively. “Trust me. We can work with this. If you give yourself a chance - just breathe, you’ll surprise yourself. Plus, then I get to do my job and make any adjustments when I produce the final version.”

For the first time since arriving, Jeremy felt a flicker of pride. He wasn’t sure if it was her words or the way she said them, but something about Rowan made him believe she meant it.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to reply, the soft clicking of claws on hardwood interrupted her. He glanced over her shoulder just as a graying dog ambled into the room, tail wagging lazily. His soulful eyes locked onto Jeremy, who immediately brightened.

“This is Arty,” Rowan said, sliding off the stool to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “He’s an old boy, but he runs the place.”

Jeremy crouched down, letting Arty sniff his hand before giving him a gentle pat. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his voice warm. “You’re a good-looking guy, huh?”

As if on cue, another dog trotted in—this one bigger, younger, and distinctly more mischievous. His tail wagged furiously as he bounded up to Jeremy.

“And this troublemaker,” she said with a laugh, “is Paulie. I’m sort of a Sopranos fan - not sure if you could tell. Arty’s the straight laced guy and Paulie - well, he means well but he’s nothing but trouble.”

“Paulie, huh?” Jeremy chuckled, sitting cross-legged on the floor as both dogs circled him. “You’re not gonna take me out back if I don’t perform well, are you?” He pointed two fingers at his temple as he glanced toward Rowan.

Rowan laughed, her voice light and genuine. “They’re my shadows - I guess the worst that they’ll do is walk out if they don’t like what they hear. But they’ll listen if you don’t want them around you…some people aren’t comfortable around them.”

Jeremy rubbed Arty’s ears, grinning as the dog leaned into his touch. “I don’t mind. This guy’s already my favorite.”

Rowan watched the scene unfold, her heart softening as Jeremy shifted effortlessly into this quieter, more relaxed version of himself. The tension he’d carried in with him seemed to dissolve under Arty’s gentle nudge and Paulie’s playfulness. For a moment, she simply let it happen, the room filled with the sound of paws padding across the wooden floor and easy conversation.

“Alright,” Rowan said after a while, sitting back on the couch. “So, now that you’ve won over my protectors, what’s next? Do you want to keep searching for a song or are we sticking with City and Colour?”

Jeremy leaned back, scratching Arty’s head. “Let’s stick with City and Colour for now. I had never heard of them and I’m already wanting to hear more of their songs.”

“Let’s start there then - you can hear the original…you’ll hear the similarities in your voices. Or, that’s what I hear anyway.”

Rowan queued the song and the now familiar tune streamed through the open space. Jeremy sat silently, smiling as he visualized playing the chords on his acoustic guitar. He loved the lyrics. He loved the sentiment of the song. It was the perfect song to sing for a supportive partner, to recognize their sacrifices as he lives out his dreams. It was the perfect song, just not for Aileen.

—

Throughout the next week, Jeremy found himself back at Rowan’s house, each time with his guitar slung over his shoulder as he climbed the familiar steps. The air had turned colder, the crispness of late fall settling into Boston, but the warmth of Rowan’s home hadn’t changed.

During the time he spent at her studio, he had learned why she looked so familiar to Jeremy. Rowan, formerly known as ‘Shea’ as in her last name, had hit the big time with an epic album released when she was only 19 years old. The record went triple platinum with hit after hit with music that fused together pop/rock and alternative genres. She was slated as one of the most exciting up and coming artists, and then she simply vanished from the scene. There was the usual speculation - everything from substance abuse to affairs with notable celebrities - all of which were wildly untrue. Rowan had been exposed to the seamy underbelly of the entertainment industry and desperately clung onto her sensibilities, squirreling away whatever funds she had access to. She wanted to simply make music but the powers that be saw her only as a physically beautiful commodity. Every party she was told to attend made her die a little inside. This path was not her path and she stepped away broken hearted and jaded. She set about making wise investments, and soon bought her home in Boston, with the hopes of helping burgeoning musicians and singers begin their professional journeys. Jeremy was fascinated as Rowan walked him through her experiences and somehow felt so lucky that he stumbled across her studio in the first place.

Inside, Rowan was already setting up the equipment, her usual ease and efficiency making him feel like this was just another day. But for Jeremy, it was starting to feel like much more. He hadn’t told her how bad things had gotten—not about the Bruins’ lackluster start to the season, not about Aileen’s constant ultimatums—but he suspected she could see it anyway. Somehow, she always seemed to know when to give him space or when to fill it with music and conversation.

“Alright,” Rowan said, looking up from her setup. “Ready to lay down the first take?”

Jeremy hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He sat on the stool she’d adjusted for him, his fingers brushing over the strings of his acoustic guitar. Rowan adjusted the mic stand, stepping back to the mixing board as she donned her headphones.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said softly, her voice encouraging.

Jeremy exhaled, then began to play. The familiar chords flowed easily, but as he sang the first line, his voice cracked slightly. He paused, frustrated, but Rowan didn’t flinch.

“That’s okay,” she said calmly. “Take it from the top. Feel the words—don’t force them.”

He nodded and tried again. This time, his voice carried more weight, more emotion. As he poured himself into the lyrics, he closed his eyes, realizing the person he should have been singing about never came to mind. His crumbling relationship felt distant, replaced by an unexpected feeling of gratitude—toward Rowan. Thinking of her as ‘The Girl’ made everything suddenly click.

Rowan didn’t interrupt, letting him finish the entire song. When the last chord faded, Jeremy looked up, as he tried to gauge if she could see right through him and how he was feeling.

“That,” she said, pulling off her headphones, “was incredible. You’ve got the heart of this song, Jeremy. It’s all there.”

He managed a small smile. If only she knew. “Thanks, Rowan. I just… started to really feel something. I don’t know if I have ever felt…whatever this is inside of me right now.”

Rowan tilted her head, studying him. “I know it’s been a tough go lately with your team. You’re carrying a lot. I can hear it in your voice.”

Jeremy shifted, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, well, life’s been a bit of a mess - not just with the team…but in other areas too.”

She didn’t press, instead she raised an eyebrow and flashed a knowing smile. “You know, the last part of this song has a group vocal—it’s a big moment right at the end. Think you can bring in a few teammates? I don’t want to insinuate anything about your recent - hmmm - play….but maybe you could call it a little team-building exercise.”

Jeremy let out a short laugh. “You think anyone on the Bruins can carry a tune?”

Rowan grinned. “I’ll fix whatever comes out of them - I’ll use some Autotune and work some of my magic and have them sounding like Dean Martin in no time.”

He chuckled - but he warmed to the idea. “I’ll see what I can do. They’re gonna fuckin chirp me to no end for this, though.”

“Yeah - maybe,” Rowan said with a shrug. “But I’m telling you, if you invite Marchand, you better tell him to keep his hands and his tongue to himself.”

—

The sound of voices and heavy footsteps shuffled up the path to Rowan’s front door, growing louder with each passing second. Jeremy pushed open the gate, followed by a crowd of grinning teammates. Rowan opened the door, raising an eyebrow as she took in the scene.

“Uh, hey,” Jeremy said sheepishly, gesturing to the group. “I might’ve brought a few of the guys.”

“A few…Jesus, I see more than a few and see nothing but trouble,” she said wryly.

David Pastrnak stepped forward, offering his hand. “We’re here to make music—or noise - or at least make Sway look good.”

Rowan laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with. Shoes off, no shit-talking or fighting, and try not to knock over the equipment.”

Everyone looked back at Brad Marchand as the usual suspect - who scoffed and offered a subtle “Fuck off” in response.

The guys filed into the studio, some looking around curiously while others settled in, tossing good-natured jabs Jeremy’s way.

“So, what’s the plan, Rockstar?” Charlie McAvoy teased, nudging Jeremy. “You gonna serenade us first?”

“Something like that,” Jeremy muttered, adjusting his guitar. “Let’s just… see how it goes.”

Rowan handed out lyric sheets and lined them up around a few microphones. “Okay, so this is the chorus. It’s pretty simple—just follow Jeremy’s lead and try to stay in tune. I’ll clean it up in post if I have to.”

Marchand, already leaning into the mic with a cheeky grin, said, “Stay in tune? You’re asking a lot.”

“Just don’t scare the dogs,” Rowan quipped, followed by a round of laughter.

As the session began, the guys started off exactly as expected—laughing, chirping, and singing off-key. But as Jeremy’s voice filled the studio, something shifted. His vocals echoed in the studio and immediately grounded the group in the song’s meaning. One by one, their teasing faded, replaced by an intense and silent focus. By the second take, they were all invested, their voices sounding surprisingly sincere.

When the final note faded, Rowan removed her headphones, a satisfied smile on her face. “You guys nailed that. Seriously.”

The room erupted in laughter and high-fives, but it wasn’t until David spoke up that the mood turned reflective.

“You know,” he said, leaning back against the wall, “this isn’t just about Sway’s girl. This song—it’s for all of them. Wives, girlfriends… they deal with a lot, putting up with us.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, nodding. “Can we get some extra copies? As a thank-you to the ladies?”

Jeremy looked around, seeing the agreement on their faces. After feeling pretty low about how things had started this season, feeling like the locker room was against him, all of that seemed to dissolve in that moment.

He glanced at Rowan, who gave him a little wink. “Alright, looks like we’ve got a plan. Let’s make this thing perfect,” she said.

Jeremy slowly packed up his guitar, dragging out the process longer than necessary. The studio was quieter now, most of the guys chatting amongst themselves and seemingly in no hurry to leave. Rowan stood near the mixing board, talking with Brendan Carlo and Andrew Peeke. Her soft laugh carried across the room, and Jeremy couldn’t help but glance over at her.

He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that letting himself think about Rowan this way—about how she made him feel—wasn’t fair. Not to her, not to Aileen, and not to himself. She had her own world, and he was just… a client. She’d been kind to him, shared her talent and her time, but that didn’t mean there was anything more to it. Still, the thought of leaving, of this being the last time he saw her, tied his insides into knots.

What would Rowan even think if she knew how much he’d come to rely on these moments with her? How he felt like himself in a way he hadn’t in months—or maybe even years? She deserved better than to be pulled into his mess, and yet, the idea of walking away felt impossible.

He stared at the latches on his guitar case. He knew it was time to go, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. His stomach tightened as he looked at her, so naturally beautiful and at ease. Some of the guys had wandered down the hall, checking out the framed photos on the wall with Arty and Paulie meandering after them, but Jeremy stayed frozen in place.

This felt like it could be the last moment. In the short time since Jeremy had been coming here, it had become his escape, a refuge into music and incredible company with Rowan. Aileen had all but deserted Jeremy, claiming to be visiting relatives but then subsequently being tagged in a group photo taken in Cancun.

After that day, there’d be no reason to come back except to pick up the final version of the recording. He might not see Rowan again. That thought twisted his insides. If he stayed, it meant he was admitting—at least to himself—that he felt more for her than he should. But if he left… leaving felt worse. It felt like closing a door he didn’t want to close.

Rowan glanced over and smiled warmly. “You all set?”

Jeremy nodded, forcing himself to move even though his chest felt heavy. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”

But as he walked toward the door, he knew he wasn’t good. Not at all.

Jeremy’s teammates all filed out the door after saying their goodbye’s to Rowan and her two companions, leaving Jeremy still standing at the entrance. He now wished he had driven alone instead of with Peeke and McAvoy.

Rowan smiled at Jeremy. “You sure made the past little while very interesting for me. It was truly a pleasure working with you - I hope you and your girlfriend will like the finished version. I think I can have it ready for you this week if you’re in a rush for it?”

“No - no rush for it,” Jeremy said, all the while thinking that he wasn’t sure he even had a girlfriend to give it to anymore.

Two Weeks Later

The message from Rowan had come late the night before: The recordings are ready. I even had them pressed onto vinyl for keepsakes—hope that’s okay. Let me know when you want to swing by to grab them.

Now, standing on her front steps again, Jeremy hesitated before knocking. His heart felt heavier with the gnawing ache of uncertainty pounding in his chest. The last two weeks had been nothing but chaos—poor games, relentless media scrutiny, and the inevitable breakup with Aileen, who enjoyed the company of another man during and after her trip to Cancun. Although the writing had been on the wall with their relationship, it still broke him to think of the Aileen he first loved versus the woman that turned on him in the end.

Rowan’s message acted like a glimmer of calm amid the noise. He just wasn’t sure what to expect—was it only a pick-up, or was it a goodbye for good?

When Rowan opened the door, she immediately noticed Jeremy’s forced smile and the exhaustion in his eyes. She invited him in, calling for the dogs, who eagerly bounded over, tails wagging. Jeremy crouched to greet them, his hand lingering on Arty’s graying head as if grounding himself.

They talked for a while, their conversation light at first—about hockey, the team, anything but what was really weighing on him. But eventually, Jeremy opened up, revealing the unraveling of his relationship with Aileen. He didn’t go into all the details, but he shared enough for Rowan to understand why the polished recording felt like too much to face right now.

Rowan listened quietly, her heart sinking a little more with each word. She had worked hard on the recording, pouring everything she could into making it perfect. But it wasn’t disappointment in her work that weighed on her; it was the ache of watching Jeremy struggle, his usual steady presence fractured.

As he stood to leave, Jeremy hesitated near the door. “Thanks for… everything,” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

“You didn’t,” Rowan said gently. “If anything, I’m glad you trusted me enough to talk.”

He gave her a small, genuine smile, and she took a step closer. “Before you go,” she said, her voice soft, “I want you to listen to another song. It’s by City and Colour, called ‘Waiting.’ It might… help. Or at least make you feel less alone.”

Jeremy nodded, taking the suggestion to heart. “I’ll check it out.”

They said their goodbyes, hesitant and drawn out, as though neither wanted the moment to end. But eventually, Jeremy made his way back to his car, the recording and her words weighing heavily in his mind.

Once he settled into the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone, searching for the song. The opening notes played softly through the speakers, followed by the first line: “A coma might feel better than this.”

Jeremy couldn’t help it—he laughed, a sound that felt both strange and relieving in the quiet of the car. “She really gets it,” he murmured, shaking his head as the rest of the song unfolded. For the first time in a while, he felt like someone truly understood what he was going through.

Jeremy’s laughter faded as the song played on, the haunting lyrics sinking deeper into his thoughts. He didn’t start the car right away, just sat there, letting Waiting loop again and again. Each line felt like it was all about the life he was living in that moment and it somehow offered him comfort.

The opening words hit harder with each repetition. Jeremy leaned back against the headrest, his hand resting loosely on the steering wheel. The ache in his chest swelled as the next line played: You're weighed down, you're full of something… of sickness, and desertion.

Finally, he started the engine and pulled out onto the quiet street. He wasn’t sure where he was going—not home, not to the rink. Maybe nowhere in particular. The city passed by in a blur of lights as the song repeated, with Jeremy getting lost in lyrics and his thoughts over and over again.

Saying goodbye to love, and holding your head up high… He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his breath catching at the sheer gut punch of it. The words felt like they were ripping apart everything inside him—his failed relationship, the weight of his career, the absolute loneliness he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

As the next verse played, the ache in his chest twisted deeper: All your friends seem like enemies when you’re broken down and empty. The truth of it hit too close to home. Aileen had made him feel that way too—isolated, unworthy, alone. And yet… there was something about Rowan’s presence, her ease and warmth, that had started to chip away at the weight of it all.

Before he realized it, Jeremy found himself turning down Rowan’s street. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself. But as he slowed in front of her house, his hands rested on the wheel, and his heart thudded in his chest.

What was he doing? He didn’t have a reason to be here, not again, not so soon. And yet, sitting there in the dark, with her house glowing softly against the night, he felt a pull he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just about the music or the comfort she’d given him. It was her—Rowan. The way she understood him without him having to explain. The way her presence made everything feel just a little less heavy.

Jeremy stared at the house, the song still playing quietly through the car speakers. So say goodbye to love, and hold your head up high… there’s no need to rush, we’re all just waiting, waiting to die. He sighed, his hands tightening briefly on the wheel before he shut off the engine.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, but as he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to her door, he realized it didn’t matter. He just needed to see her.

The sound of Paulie suddenly barking from his perch at the front window prompted Rowan to step away from her piano. His low, excited woof and wagging tail signaled something unusual. She moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside. Her eyes widened as she spotted Jeremy standing at the bottom of the steps, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking uncertain but hopeful… maybe?

Without hesitating, she opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “Jeremy?” she called softly, the cool night air brushing against her skin. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He looked up, and she was struck by how different he seemed. The tension that had gripped him earlier was gone, replaced by something raw and alive, as though he had been completely resuscitated. He climbed the steps, stopping just in front of her.

“That song,” he began, his voice low and almost breathless. “It felt like it bore into my soul. How… how did you know? How did you know that’s exactly what I’ve been feeling?”

Rowan blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice and the emotion in his eyes. “I didn’t know—not exactly,” she admitted. “I just… saw something in you. It just came into my head, and it felt right.”

Jeremy let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. “In such a short time, you’ve… I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but it feels like you give me everything I didn’t even know I needed. Everything I could possibly want.”

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Rowan’s heart raced, her breath catching at the weight of his confession, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “Jeremy,” she said carefully, “let’s talk inside, okay?”

Jeremy hesitated for just a moment before nodding. As he stepped past her, the warmth of the house wrapped around him, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe.

Inside, Rowan guided him to the couch, sitting opposite him. Paulie climbed onto Jeremy’s lap, his wagging tail thumping softly against the cushions, while Arty settled at Rowan’s feet. For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the dogs’ sighs, their lips flapping as they exhaled.

“Jeremy,” Rowan began gently, her hands resting on her knees, “what you said outside… it’s a lot. I won’t lie—I feel…something too. But this… it’s fast. It’s not logical, and it’s… complicated.”

“I know it’s fast,” Jeremy said, his voice quiet but firm. “But I can’t ignore this. Rowan, I haven’t felt this alive, this… right, in years. Not even close.”

She met his gaze, her heart aching his total vulnerability in that moment. “I’m not saying no,” she said softly. “I’m saying we need to take small steps. You just got out of a relationship. You’re carrying so much, and I don’t want to be….considered like your escape. I don’t want to be your getaway car from everything in your life.”

Jeremy’s shoulders sagged slightly, her words both grounding and sobering him. “I don’t see you that way,” he said earnestly. “I know it’s more than that. I feel it.”

Rowan offered him a small, understanding smile. “I’m leaving for New York tomorrow for a couple of weeks,” she said. “Maybe we can use that time to figure this out—to see if what we’re feeling is real.”

He nodded slowly, taking it in. “And if it is?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“I’ll message you when I get back,” she said, her smile softening. “If that’s okay with you.”

Jeremy’s lips quirked into a small, subdued smile. “Yeah. It’s okay. I’ll wait. Whatever it takes—I’ll wait.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, easing into something more hopeful from the expressions on their faces. Finally, Rowan stood, motioning toward the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

As he stepped onto the porch, the crisp night air hit him, but it didn’t feel as heavy as before. He turned back to look at Rowan, her silhouette framed in the warm glow of the house behind her. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “For everything.”

“Take care of yourself, Jeremy,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jeremy walked down the steps, his heart lighter than it had been in months. He didn’t know where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind waiting to find out.

BONUS SCENE

Three weeks later, Jeremy stood on Rowan’s porch again, his heart thudding with nervous excitement. He adjusted the strap of the small bag slung over his shoulder, which contained the vinyl of "The Girl" he’d brought with him. He had thought of her every idle moment during her time away, and when her message finally came, it felt like he could breathe again.

Rowan had kept her word, messaging him as soon as she returned from New York. Jeremy had been on a road trip when it came through, but he had responded immediately, and the moment he could, he called her. Her voice, warm and familiar, had filled him with a lightness he hadn’t felt in weeks.

Now, standing here, he could hardly wait to see her.

The door opened, and there she was, her smile as radiant as he remembered. “Hey,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “It’s good to see you. Come on in.”

He stepped into the house, the warmth and familiar scent wrapping around him like a favorite blanket. The dogs trotted over, Paulie practically bouncing, and Jeremy crouched to greet them, laughing as Paulie licked his face.

“I missed this guy,” he said, scratching behind Paulie’s ears before standing.

Rowan watched him with an amused smile as Arty strolled in after a long stretch. “I think they both did.”

Jeremy straightened, holding up the bag. “I brought something,” he said, his voice softening. “I haven’t listened to the recording yet. I couldn’t bring myself to want to hear it. But when you messaged me….I don’t know…I just needed to hear it for the first time with you. I even made all the guys wait until I heard it first,” he chuckled.

Rowan’s cheeks flushed as she looked at him in slight disbelief. “Well,” she said, gesturing toward the sitting room, “let’s play it, then.”

They moved to the record player Rowan kept in the corner of the room, and she carefully set the vinyl on the turntable. The needle dropped, and the familiar, haunting chords of "The Girl" began to play. Jeremy sat back on the couch beside Rowan, his hands resting on his knees as his voice filled the room.

Jeremy was stunned. He could not believe that was his voice singing, and his guitar playing. The sheer pride he felt was one thing, but hearing how Rowan had perfected every single sound - he was completely in awe of her.

Rowan turned to him. “So, what do you think?” she asked, trying to stifle her smirk, as it was more than apparent what he thought. She stepped toward the player to lift the needle off the record.

But as she sat, the space between them seemed to shrink. Her heart began to race as he reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“My beautiful girl,” he said, barely above a whisper, his voice filled with affection.

Rowan leaned in and kissed him softly - it was the slow and quiet beginnings of something they both knew would be worth waiting for.

[twopoppies]

https://chng.it/6NCwN8XhTL

Hello, Gina. This is a petition so safeguard artists mental health 🤍

Hi love. Thank you so much. 🩷

The entertainment industry, acclaimed for its glamour and stardom, is equally infamous for the enormous pressure it exerts on the mental health of artists. Resultant issues such as stress, anxiety, depression, substance misuse and even suicide are alarmingly high. According to research, performers are 2-3 times more likely to suffer from these issues compared to the general population.

In recent news of Liam Payne's tragic death as many others, the entertainment industry needs to be held accountable and be responsible to the welfare of their artists. We seek to implore lawmakers to create legislation safeguarding the mental health of artists within the industry.

Such a law would necessitate regular mental health check-ups, adequate rest periods, and the presence of mental health professionals on-set, including any ongoing support during their career. It will ensure a healthier, safer, and more conducive working environment for artists to cultivate their talents reducing phycological distress. This would also include early interventions to protect and minimise before it's too late. Furthermore, the increasing rate of musicians who die before the age of 35, is concerning. We need to act now!

The artist's role is invaluable not just in the world of entertainment but also in society. Let us ensure their protection and wellbeing. Your signature could be a lifeline for these talented individuals, contributing to a larger movement of mental health awareness and care in industries worldwide. Please, sign the petition.

Sign the petition here

[badkitty3000]

What job do you think Five would have pursued had he never time travelled (if he ever decides to leave the academy)?

This is a very interesting question and I had to think about it for a while. I love this concept that he would have a real, real-person job if his life had gone in a different direction, and it's one I have not put much thought into before. But I like it!

So, for the sake of argument, I'm going to say that if he never time traveled to the future, then maybe the team would have been a little closer and his relationship with Viktor would have healed some wounds. In which case, Viktor wouldn't have been so angry and there would be no 2019 Apocalypse.

With that little pesky problem out of the way, Five and the rest of the gang would have been left to pursue their own lives, etc. We already know Diego went into the police force, Allison became an actress, and Viktor was a professional musician. Luther was busy on the moon, Ben was busy being deceased, and Klaus...well, who the hell knows what Klaus was doing. So, that leaves Number Five.

It's weird to think of him doing something ordinary, like working in an office, or even as a professor as some have theorized before. Unfortunately, we don't ever get a chance to see what his interests or passions are, since he jumps when he's 13 and then the rest of the time is spent trying to save the world. We only know he's exceptionally smart and good at math, but it seems fair to say that if he never ran away, he'd develop some real hobbies and interests that would maybe turn into a career of some sort. What if he found he loved botany and gardening and became a biologist or opened his own plant nursery? What if he got really into cars and became a mechanic or auto engineer? Maybe he would have started to pay attention to Grace when she was tending to their wounds and decided medicine was his calling? It's kind of cool to think about the possibilities, but also sad since he never got that chance to find out, even for himself.

Which brings us back to the original question. I have only ever written Five as either being a hitman of some sort (either Commission, Mafia, or independent) or retired. Not very creative on my part for sure! But in one of my stories, I do have his grown son that has similar powers to himself run a tech company using their teleportation powers as the basis for it. I never go into detail as to what it involves, mostly because I'm not that smart to come up with something cool like that, and also because I figure most readers don't care.

However, I am going to make that my answer for Five, as well. We know (well, maybe not know but most of us assume) that Five used his knowledge of his powers as the basis for developing the briefcases for the Commission when he founded it. I would think he would still use that same knowledge to develop some sort of technology that would (hopefully) better the world, if he never had to create the Commission in the first place. Something very heavily science-based, very complicated, and very cutting-edge. Perhaps even incorporating time travel into the technology itself. Basically, he would be a much cooler, non-asshole, hot version of Elon Musk or Steve Jobs. He'd probably be famous and be on the cover of Fortune 500 or Scientific American or something, rolling his eyes at the interviewer's questions while checking his watch and sipping his coffee.

So, there you have my very convoluted answer to your very good question. If you were looking for a much more every day type job, then I would say he might open his own coffee house/bar that also offers axe throwing 😄