#so hard to pick a favorite part in that song

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Obsession (Part 3)

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1 Part 2

Tw: stalker!In Ho, breaking into your home

Note: s/n is song name

You were getting ready for your date. Knowing In Ho, he’d be dressed in black, so you complimented it with a red mid thigh length dress, with a plain of black heels and gold jewelry. (dress link). He told you to “to dress semi formal”.

You heard a car pull in front of your house. Before you had a chance to get near the door to leave, the doorbell rang.

“Hi (y/n)” In Ho said from behind a giant bouquet of red roses. “I didn’t know what kind you liked so I picked these… I also bought the entire flower cart” he said shyly. He wore a black button up, with black slacks, and a tie. He looked so handsome you almost forgot who he was. You saw Young il.

“Wow, In Ho, these are beautiful” you said stepping aside so he could bring them in. He set the vase down on the kitchen table.

“Oh you have a cat!” He exclaimed as he saw (c/n) jumping on the table.

“Yeah! That’s (c/n). He’s a mainecoon” you say happily. You looked at your regal cat as meowed at In Ho, brushing up against him.

“A friendly one, you are very beautiful (c/n)” he said as he pet the cat. “Ready to go?” He asked, extending his arm.

“Yes I am” you took it, your purse swinging off your shoulder. You walked out to the Mercedes that stood idle in your drive way. He opened the door for you and waited till you sat in the car.

“So, what type of music would you like to listen to?” He asked passing you his phone.

“Oh anything I don’t mind” you wave it off.

“No please, play your favorites!” He insisted. You took the phone typing the artist you like the most. Your favorite song playing first. “Oh my gosh, I loved this song when it first came out, now my favorite by them is (s/n)” he said.

“Really? I love that one too! I like this one more, though” you smile. 30 minutes of conversation about music an artists, you arrived at a restaurant. ‘Jungsik Seoul’.

“In Ho, this is really expensive!” You say. You’d only eaten there once, and that was when Gi Hun made contact with you and asked you for dinner before he left for America.

“You forget that you have your own card linked to my bank account (y/n).” He chuckled, helping you from the car. You agreed. “One table for Young il” he said. Your heart throbbed in pain at the mention of that name. You were led to a table in the far corner, yet still somehow surrounded by people.

“Order anything your heart desires. Even order some of those fish things to bring home to (c/n), after all, a beautiful cat like him deserves to eat like a king, and you a queen” In Ho said. The waiter approached you.

“My manager said drinks are in the house since the lady is so beautiful.” You blushed deeply as In Ho beamed.

“Yes she is. My girlfriend is gorgeous, isn’t she” In Ho replied. “I’ll take a glass of whiskey on the rocks and she’ll have a…?” He looked towards you.

“A double shot of coconut rum with pineapple juice” you said. The waiter bowed and left your table.

“Coconut rum, and pineapple juice.” In Ho repeated. “Sounds delicious” a few minutes later as you were both looking at the menu, the waiter returned. You and In Ho were discussion on what you were going to eat. He order for the both of you, asking for two more of the drink you had.

“In Ho, I can’t drink 2 at once” you laugh.

“Hell no, the other ones for me. You’re making me jealous with how good that looks” he laughs and you follow suit.

Time skip:

You and In Ho were walking through the city. You didn’t know how protected you were, he has men hiding in plain sight as you walked through the streets.

“So, (y/n) can I ask you something?”

“Sure” you say wiping tears from your eyes after laughing so hard at his last joke.

“Would you see yourself being with me?” He asked.

“What?”

“Like if I didn’t involve you in the games. If I moved in with you or you moved in with me, in a house, not where I sleep during the games, can you see yourself with me?”

“I was able to see myself with Young il.” You say coldly. “I saw the rest of my life with him, and I see parts of him in you… but I can’t get past your job.”

“It’s what keeps my money going” he deflects “I am Young il (y/n). You saw it today, at dinner, walking, picking you up, that’s me. The real me” he said.

“But the job…” you begin.

“I can’t quit my job.”

“Then I can’t be with you.” You say coldly. “I’d like to go home now” he nodded and brought you to the car. You walked in silence, the drive was silent. He walked you to your door.

“I enjoyed tonight” you say turning to him. “Thank you, In Ho” you kissed him on his cheek and went inside.

He stood there, waiting to hear the door lock, the lock that kept him out, even though breaking in was so easy.

Tag list:

@syraxnyra @colorwastaken

[itstobias149]

Oc Song Associations

Okay so- I don't have the brain cells to draw everybody's oc SOOO in just gonna tag you and explain! This will probably be a multi part thing!

This is songs that Marie would associate with you oc, and sure some are modern songs, so wouldn’t fit the the time line, but they slap- so fight me. I hope you guys enjoy! Cause I had a lot of fun doing this. This also contains some headcanons about your charters cause, I think they are neat! Some might have more than other, it’s currently like 3am-4am so-I’m super eppy so please excuse any gramma mistakes 👉👈✨

Ps: Marie is a simp, also question:

It’s 3am, rainy, and cold. Why does your character show up outside her door?

(Just need to know for art reasons)

Clementine

Clementine is @bazooka-overkill oc who is the manager for Mr.Sandman. I feel (hope) Marie and Clem are good friends. Clem helps Marie step away from time to time and regather herself. I feel that Marie would feel some type of bond, couldn’t place a finger on it though. I feel that he is just a good person who can be really grounding in all the chaos. Why this song? I… I really can’t explain it. It just makes sense in my mind, it oddly gives me grounding vibes. It’s a good chill out and look at the calling song.

Jacko

Jacko is a Greek boxer who belongs to @star-bliss8 ! Super loving kind guy, he’s a hugger not a fighter. (He’s a boxer lol) I feel like he’s a big pleasure to work with and has a high emotional intelligence, regardless of language barriers. I think Jacko and Marie definitely hang out outside of the rink, maybe had lunch from time to time. I assigned Se Thello, which is like one of my favorite songs. Antique is a really good early 2000s Greek group, highly recommend if you like pop it love songs. They have songs in both English and Greek.

Garcia

Garcia is a Mexican boxer who belongs to @hol-ymoly ! I sense a confident and collected man, friendly and committed. I feel like Garcia is one of Marie’s favorite boxers to work with because he is respectful. I feel like he’s keeps his opinions to himself and plays the bigger man. He definitely also always smells nice, I feel like he just looks like the kinda guy who smells good. So I assigned another one of my favorite songs. I think it’s to the correlation of handling emotions.

Barry

This man, creature- belongs to @stonedragonisnthere . Barry is a just a corrupt talk show honest, what more is there to say. He’s a smooth talker, quick witted (can be), and slick. I feel like Marie wouldn’t really consume his media, but as soon as she found out, she would be mad. But soon enough she would just roll her eyes and sigh, it’s how the world works. She wouldn’t agree with what he does, but would definitely be interested in the why. So she would definitely bring him around to pick his brain. Boom- the whisky blues vibes match his personality in her mind, plus he has to have a dark heart to do what he does.

Marie

Marie who is @nai418 character is a red in training! I love this character so much, definitely one of my favorites. Marie is shy, and kind, and sadly gets pushed around way too much. Marie(mine) would definitely stand up for her, and patch her up when things go south. I also could see things hanging out a lot. The Marie’s would be funny, someone calls out ‘Marie!’ And they both would come running. I would say Magnolia would be a good song, I feel like Marie(my Marie) adores her, definitely in a platonic way.

Pilsner

Pilsner is a Czech boxer who belongs to @thorkelsongirl . I love this man. Marie would love this man, doesn’t matter how hard he tries to be be tough, she would see through it. He is definitely a guy she would check on. Knowing he has stuff going on she would always try to comfort him, maybe not infront of the others cause she wouldn’t want to embarrass him. She would definitely stay up talking to him, even if it takes every language translating app or book. She would wanna know his story. She would associate ‘she will be loved’ with him, no matter what if he needed her, she would be there. End of story.

Mary Ryan

Mary Ryan is the sibling of Aran Ryan, created by @artformationcoreir . Love this little rascal! So spunky, so full of life and energy. Once Marie met Mary she would spoil her. She would definitely hype the girl up, glad that she has confidence. Marie would probably take her out for girls days to get her out and about. Definitely would associate Mary with Just a girl by no doubt! Good vibes, matches Mary’s energy big time-

Perry

Mm, yes. YOUSIF- Perry belongs to @abigblackfly and is Aran Ryan’s manager. Definitely off the walls sarcastic guy. But a good guy at heart, regardless of how much he is dragged up the wall. Marie would definitely be friends with Perry, especially when she had a decent friendship with Ryan. Marie and Perry would probably play pool together and talk about the weekly drama. Perry would remind her of “my alcoholic friends”which has that sarcastic energy he carries.

Roxy

Roxy is an Australian boxer that belongs to @luc1ano03 . I really like the design! I feel they are a pretty chill person but still bring the chaos energy. They are the goblincore alt friend to Marie, and Marie is here for it. I feel like Marie can be a little more comfortable in her alt grandmacore way around them. Have her hair down, put in her piercings, and just hang out other. ‘Ripe’ by screaming females, just screaming females in general would remind Marie of them, it’s a good band!

Pale Phantom

Pale phantom is a boxer charater created by @shykittensoul . I love his design and he seems so sweet honestly. I think Marie would see him and just be like,”This is my child now… thanks-“. He seems to be just a sweet kid character, and she would just adore that. She would probably make him stuff all the time like scarfs, sweaters, and so on. I feel like “not while I’m around” from Sweeney Todd would be how she is like, ‘this is my baby, and I shall protect him-‘

Wolf

Wolf Viking (Luke) is a Swedish boxer created by @leonscottwolfkennedy . Love the big locked in eyes tbh. Marie would do her best to calm his anxiety, and definitely try to help him find some ways to cope. Definitely another person who would be welcome anytime, into her home. She would be very gentle with him. One of the boxers she would bring things like snacks for. I think Marie would associate ‘Forward Beckons Rebounds’ by Adrianne Lenker. (I reached the song limit, sorry I couldn’t add it.) it definitely has the caring feel she would have.

Anyways I hope you guys liked this! Might do more, idk. I’m gonna sleep now-

[daisychain-unchained]

“Oh Gabriel, let me blow your horn” damn near gotta be the gayest thing I’ve heard in a Zeppelin song

[teamhawkeye]

5 Favorite Songs at the Moment

tagged by @alicestrange98 thank you! <3

Herald of Darkness - Old Gods of Asgard

The Politics of Dancing - Re-Flex

Spiral - Wye Oak

Far From Any Road - The Handsome Family

6 Underground - Sneaker Pimps

tagging @scarstarved @minilev @corvosattano @perpetuagf @falsemortal @red-nightskies @cellard0ors and anyone else wanting to join in!

[theunderthecover]

(hi its the anon from earlier, now clearly not an anon. im sending this before I fold into myself. <3)

Scar has been tempted to fold the towel for the past half hour, no matter how safe and lucrative this scheme is. 

Doing anything in front of a crowd for 5 hours nonstop is a tiring task by itself, but singing on top of that could make the most experienced performer want to keel over.

But, a group of powerful and wealthy adventurers entered the tavern 30 minutes ago, and Grian's eyes narrowed in their direction. It's a look the Aarakocra only has when a bigger fish (a bigger prize) unexpectedly appears on the job. It's a look that leads to some of their biggest catches. So, Scar will sing and entertain the party til they're blackout drunk and his throat dies so Grian can snatch whatever caught his eye. 

The energy in the tavern has long since died down, as most rowdy tavern goers are either off to bed or too tired to be loud anymore. The only thing that fills the room now is quiet chatter, the barkeep's everlasting service, Scar's continued performance. He concludes yet another song and basks in another round of faint applause. 

From the corner of his eye, he can see a faint bird-like footprint appear in a small puddle of cheap alcohol near the extremely drunk targets.

With Grian so close, Scar needs to have an iron grip on the room's attention again despite the itch in his throat and the room's energy being at an all-time low. There are too many drifting eyes that could see something being stolen. 

After staring at the puddle for a moment too long, he gets an idea. 

"You've been a delight tonight, kind folks! It'll be just one more song to wrap up the night." Scar declares to the whole tavern from his stage, "Though I'll be sure to leave you all filled with wonder and awe! As a treat, for being such an Amazin' audience tonight." He finishes the segway with an exaggerated wink, causing some patrons to giggle. 

He casts minor illusions with a flourish, making the sound of soft instruments echo around the room. As a viol begins to play, the quiet conversation amongst patrons lulls as every eye--curious, confused, excited--turns to the stage once more.

Scar's eyes close, and he relaxes as he takes in the music the magic creates. He thinks of the song with intent, pulls upon vivid memories to inspire emotion, and lets the feeling consume every movement. He takes one more breath, then, at the cue, begins to sing with a slightly rough voice.

"In a perfect world… one we’ve never known…” 

The tone is jarringly different from the previous songs of the night.

"We would never need to face the world alone…."

The instrument choice, low soothing energy, a soft romantic sway, and the bard's renewed life- all combined- make a near-perfect hook for everyone within the tavern. 

"They can have the world…" 

All Scar has to do is follow through with the catch and reel in the hook enough to let Grian catch the fish before anyone in the pond suspects a thing.

"We'll create our own."

He opens his eyes slightly, half-lidded to obscure where he looks but wide enough to see one of the wealthy adventurer's satchels be swiped off the table and quickly replaced by an identical copy. A bit of panic wells up inside him at the precarious move, but he swallows and trusts his partner knows what he's doing.

"I may not be brave, strong, or smart, but somewhere in my secret heart-" His voice slightly cracks at the rise, but he breathes through it and tries not to let it go completely off-pitch. Scar looks at the ceiling and tries to force his movements make it look intentional, stretching out the ache in his throat. 

"I know, love will find a way… anywhere I go…" Scar lowers his head in time to catch a now visible Grian acting like he just walked in the room, "I'm home if you are there beside me…"

He lets the music breathe, in a tune he knows by heart, as he watches his partner-in-crime casually head for the exit.  

Grian turns around and leans against the wall by the door, a stolen bag tucked under a wing. He signals to leave. They make eye contact.

The warm tavern lights again, and Aarakocra's red tones make Grian look like a painted sunrise. Scar, despite knowing he should be focused on finishing this scheme, doesn't look away. Doesn't stop to think about causing glorious chaos in their victorious exit.

Scar continues to sing, holding Grian's eyes within his own all the while. 

"Like dark, turning into day…"

Grian subtly pauses, confused but suddenly seeming as spellbound as the partner-in-crime in the metaphorical spotlight.

Still, their eyes hold.

 "… somehow we'll come through…"

Grian's incredulously mouthed words, which he fondly knows are along the lines of 'Scar, what are you doing?!'

Still, their eyes hold. 

"… now that I've found you..."

Scar's posture slightly sags with the exhaustion of this performance. He feels the cantrip near its minute end, but the violins swell into an off-script crescendo anyway.

Their eyes still hold.

"… love will find a way..."

The music cuts off abruptly as the spell ends.

He sees Grian suddenly look rather lost, but Scar is not sure why.

The whole tavern is bathed in silence.

He feels compelled to make the song at least sound finished. So…

"Now that I've found you..."

… he repeats himself, even with nothing else to support the song. 

(Scar doesn't admit that, at that moment, as he and his partner swim in each other's eyes, he didn't only repeat it for the performance.)

"… love will find a way."

The room roars into one of the loudest applause at night despite the smaller number of people.

And their eyes still hold.

bard scar singing a little love song at the crastle tavern and making direct eye contact with warlock grian

i think i just got murdered by my own thought what the fuck

[leia-writes]

not sure if you’ve wrote this before but Frontmanxfem reader maybe she’s like nervous for him to go down on her and he reassures her🥹

Movement

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: movement by hozier

note: thanks for your request!! I'm so happy to finally be writing again. more to come with season 2 out!

warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY

“Fuck!” you exclaimed under your breath, elevator doors closing in front of you. You pressed the button to your floor and impatiently waited for the elevator to take you to your residence. As soon as the doors opened, you ripped your mask off and stormed down the hallway.

You passed the main living room, furnished with two leather chairs facing a large screen and a table with a half drunk glass of whiskey on it. Another mask like yours laid neatly on the table next to the glass. You hurled yours across the room in a fit of rage.

Storming into the nearby kitchen, you saw In-ho pouring a glass of your favorite wine.

“I hope that’s for me,” you sighed as you approached In-ho.

He gave you a sympathetic look and handed you the glass. “I heard what happened.”

You finished the glass off in a few seconds, slamming it down on the counter. In-ho approached your hunched over figure but you stood straight again, pointing at him.

“I could kill them all. Every last one of them,” you seethed. 

He knew exactly who you were talking about, and gave you a soft, pitying look. “I know, I know you could. You’d be really good at it too.” He caressed your cheek as he praised you, a playful smirk flashing across his face for a moment.

You huffed, rolling your eyes but softening at his affection. “I’m fucking serious. I’m done with these pretentious assholes.”

Before you joined In-ho in your shared residence that evening, you’d spent your entire day with the VIPs. Handling impossible requests and battling egos was the most insufferable part of your job. You’d run around so much that day trying to appease every demand that you could’ve probably traversed every inch of the island in the same amount of time. 

In-ho spent the day in Seoul, working with the recruiter to find the next batch of players, and was therefore spared from dealing with the VIPs. Your muscles ached with fatigue and jealousy.

In-ho embraced you, stroking your hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure you don’t see them for a while, alright?” You sighed heavily in response, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his warm torso.

He smiled as you melted into his touch. “My poor darling. Let me make you feel better.”

He swiftly picked you up and carried you to one of the leather chairs in the main room, setting you down gently in front of him. Before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, distracting you from the tension that wracked your body and mind.

In-ho leaned over you, pressing your back to the chair. You gently pulled away. “In-ho, I-”

He gently pressed a finger over your mouth, caressing your cheek. “Shh, just let me take care of you now, alright?” 

You sighed as he dipped his head down to kiss your neck, your skin becoming flushed and warm. He brought a hand down your side, gently starting to coax your shirt upwards. 

You knew exactly what he was after - you’d done this for him more times than you could count. The job you two held was a difficult one, and you had no problem being an outlet of stress relief for each other. 

He brought his hands to your pants, carefully undoing the buttons and lowering the zipper, before slowly dipping his hand into your underwear. He released himself from your neck and looked at you, gauging your reactions.

You leaned forward and kissed him hard as his hand dipped into your warm core, soaking his fingers as he explored you. He groaned at the warm wetness on his fingers. You sighed, desperate for more, but a confused feeling of embarrassment was starting to cloud your lustful thoughts.

He brought his hand from your core to his mouth, obscenely tasting your juices on his fingers. He groaned, a sound that would’ve normally made you feral but instead made you feel vulnerable. You felt your breath catch in your throat, unsure of how to react.

He roughly grasped the waist of your pants and began pulling them down before you grabbed his hand to stop them. He immediately looked at you with concern.

Your face flushed red with embarrassment. “I… I’m, uh…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, not that, I just… I…” You internally slapped yourself for sounding so stupid.

He playfully smirked at you. “You know I’ve seen it, right? There’s no need to be so bashful.”

You scoffed. Of course you’d known that. You’d had sex with him many times before, that was nothing new. But having his fingers on you, and the thought of having his face down there, made you more self-conscious than you knew how to deal with. In the past, you’d redirect his attention elsewhere quickly to avoid dealing with the imaginary shame you might feel.

And that’s exactly what you planned to do now.

“I know… I’m just too tense right now. I’m sorry.” You started pulling your pants back up, looking down in guilt.

He quickly tilted your face towards him, giving you a concerned look and caressing your face. “It’s alright, darling. You don’t have to be sorry.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to take a hot bath?”

“Yes."

~~~

After taking your relaxing hot bath and washing the day’s stress away, you climbed into your shared bed with In-ho. You already felt a million times better. In-ho was immersed in a book he was reading, but wrapped his arm around you when you climbed into bed next to him.

“Are you feeling better?”

You gave him a happy, dazed smile. “Very much so.”

He smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead, diverting his attention back to his book. You grabbed the one you were currently reading and began to do the same next to him.

After a short while of getting comfortable in bed, your thoughts began to wander as you read. You thought about In-ho touching you before, how good it felt and sounded to you. The overwhelming embarrassment and anxiety you felt at the time was now closer to a distant memory. You felt much more comfortable in your body, more intrigued than embarrassed about the thought of In-ho’s mouth on you. 

You felt the familiar flush in your skin again and set your book down. Warmth was spreading throughout your body but you weren’t sure how to express what you wanted, so you snuggled up to In-ho, resting your arm on his chest.

He glanced at you as he read. “Getting tired?”

“No, you’re just so warm.” A believable lie.

He smiled and continued to read, oblivious to the dirty thoughts starting to cloud your mind. You wanted him bad. How was he not able to read your mind and know exactly what you wanted at that moment? You glanced at him quickly and started playing with the hem of his shirt, hoping he’d get some sort of hint from your mixed signals.

In-ho eyed your hands on his shirt and set his book down. “What are you thinking about, darling?” He had a naughty glint in his eye, suspecting he knew what you might be after.

At the first glance from him, your newfound confidence faltered. “Nothing. Just laying here with you.” You feigned innocence - but he knew better.

He turned his body towards you, your hand unintentionally slipping underneath his shirt. “Nothing at all?”

“Nope. Nothing.” You began to gently caress his warm skin, avoiding eye contact.

He gently sighed at your touch. “Hm. You don’t want anything?”

You gave him a pleading look but couldn’t bring yourself to say anything except for a quiet hum.

He leaned forward to kiss you, gently, before slightly pulling back, testing how much you wanted. You quickly leaned forward to return his kiss, deeper and more needy, twisting the hem of his shirt in your hands.

He sighed and pushed you on your back, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss even further. After a few moments, he pulled back, observing your beautifully flushed face.

“Do you want me to make you feel better? Like before?”

Your breath hitched again, and all you could muster was a small nod, silently begging for his lips to be on yours again.

He crashed his lips into yours, kissing you more fervently now, and positioned himself completely above you. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gently tugging, eliciting delicious, soft moans from his throat. It drove you insane.

You wanted so badly for him to feel good, for him to enjoy every second with you, it was hard to understand how he’d want to solely focus on you and your pleasure. You know he’d do anything for you… but your own self-doubt clouded your mind in these moments.

As if he knew what you were thinking, In-ho pulled away and looked at you with a fierce intention. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “But… you have before.”

“Not like this. Not like I’ve wanted to. Not like you deserve.” 

He gently rubbed your cheek, hoping you could feel the sincerity in his words. It felt like your heart was in your throat, you could barely express how he made you feel in that moment. Your eyebrows furrowed and you leaned towards him for a harsh, needy kiss before guiding his hand to your underwear.

Without any pants on, he swiftly pulled your underwear down, leaning back in front of your raised knees as he pulled the blanket off. He placed his hands on your legs to spread them, but the sudden exposure made you feel vulnerable and hesitant for a moment, and you froze.

You let out a pitiful moan, your body conflicted on what to do. In-ho gently caressed your legs and leaned forward, giving you a sweet kiss. 

“Let me make you feel better.” He echoed from before.

You silently nodded and spread your legs, and In-ho quickly settled his head in between them. He gently kissed around your inner thigh, taking his time on each side, intentionally avoiding your wet, aching core. Although you couldn’t ignore the involuntary waves of self-consciousness, you focused on the anticipation rising throughout your body, your need for his mouth to be on you.

In-ho’s mouth hovered over your core, the sensation of his hot breath on you driving you crazy. You squirmed beneath him as he placed a firm arm over your stomach.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he instructed. He paused for a moment, as if waiting for your permission. 

The moment you looked down at him, he placed his mouth on you, his tongue flat on your core, gently sucking. 

The sudden wave of pleasure immediately wracked your body. You threw your head back with a surprised moan, your hands instantly grabbing at the sheets. 

In-ho groaned loudly in satisfaction, as if he’d been hungry for you his whole life and just now, finally, got a taste. You felt his groan through your sensitive clit, making your hips twitch under his movements. He continued to work his tongue over your clit and your aching entrance, tasting every inch of you, relishing in your gasps and moans.

You felt possessed, unable to control your sounds and movements as he all but consumed you. His hands grasped at your sides, your thighs, anything he could get his hands on. You felt yourself relax into this position and spread your legs further, wanting more and more of him.

He kept his mouth on you as he splayed his hands on the back of your thighs, pressing them down, following your lead and spreading you out even further for him. You looked down again at him ravenously devouring you, the sight of it almost undoing you.

You cried out in pleasure, starting to twitch and grind beneath him, feeling like your release could come at any moment now. You’d never felt like it had been this easy before. In-ho briefly stopped to look at you, a slight, satisfied grin on his face.

“You’re doing so well. Do you feel good, darling?”

You let out a soft cry. “Yes.” You gave him a needy, pleading look. 

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

The thought of it made you clench, you could barely make out words. “Mhm.”

His head was spinning with those obscene sounds you were making. “Good. I want you to cum on my face, okay?”

You cried out in pleasure and frustration, and pushed his head back on you, gripping his hair for dear life. He groaned at your unrelenting neediness, just egging you on even further to the edge.

You felt your body chasing release, pressing In-ho’s face to your aching cunt, grinding beneath him, using him solely for your pleasure. His incessant moans seemed to vibrate throughout your entire being, setting your skin on fire, bringing tears to your eyes.

With a few more swipes of his tongue, you came absolutely undone beneath him.

You felt a white hot wave of pleasure explode from your core, your muscles involuntarily shaking, and you cried out in pleasure and pure emotional release. Tears flowed down your face as you allowed the pleasure to take over, allowed yourself to feel good. In-ho diligently kept his mouth on you as you rode out your orgasm.

As you slowly came to consciousness, In-ho leaned back and watched you, all of you. You wiped the tears from your eyes and watched him in a daze. He was completely enamored by you, his hands wandering from your thighs to your core, spreading his fingers over your sensitive clit and your aching entrance.

You suddenly felt… empty. Quietly whimpering, you grabbed his wrist, keeping his fingers on you, silently begging for more. He gave you a bewildered look.

“Did that feel good?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You pressed his fingers further towards your entrance.

His eyes darkened. “Hm. Do you want more, darling?”

You nodded again. Even though you felt spent from your orgasm, you couldn’t deny the aching need to feel him inside you.

“So needy, hm? You can’t get enough, is that right? Need something to fill you up too?”

You looked away and groaned, a mixture of embarrassment and desire swirling in your mind. 

“Please,” you whispered.

In-ho slowly moved to hover over you, gently turning your head towards him.

“Tell me what you want.”

You whimpered, kissing him and reaching for the prominent bulge in his underwear. You could feel his cock straining against the fabric. In-ho groaned above you, his cock painfully aching to feel you.

He let out a harsh breath through his teeth. “Fuck… do you feel what you’ve done to me?”

You continued to massage him, feel him twitch under your fingers, his moans becoming more reckless every second. You felt all your senses go on edge again, responding to every single sound he made. He quickly swatted your hand away and pulled his underwear down.

“If you keep doing that I won’t last much longer,” he breathed out, his voice hoarse and primal. He quickly lined his cock with your entrance and thrusted into you, your hips meeting his thrust and your warmth enveloping him completely.

He stopped for a second, too overwhelmed to move. You were so deliciously warm, your flesh so sensitive from before. The feeling of his cock stretching you made a wave of pleasure sink into your body and you couldn’t help but let out a feral moan.

In-ho leaned himself further over you, pressing your legs up, and began to pound into you relentlessly. You grabbed at his arms and shoulders, any part of him you could hold onto as he fucked you through the bed. He was relentless in his movements, completely focused on the pleasure building between the two of you.

He roughly grabbed your jaw. “Fuck… I could’ve come undone just watching you before.”

You cried out beneath him, clenching on his cock as he fucked you with a determined pace.

He continued. “That pretty fucking pussy, clenching and gushing just for me… you loved it, didn’t you?”

You moaned and nodded.

“That’s right,” he huffed. “My pretty fucking girl loves to cum on my face, doesn’t she?”

His words send shockwaves throughout your body, and you could only cry out and continue nodding.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his pace quickening. You could tell he was close.

“Fuck. And you’re gonna cum on my cock now, aren’t you?”

You squeezed your eyes. “Yes, fuck, yes I’m going to right now I-”

You felt the familiar wave of pleasure crash over your entire body again, your walls clenching on In-ho’s cock as he stuttered in his pace. You cried out, feeling In-ho release himself inside of you with a loud, guttural groan. He thrusted into you slowly, chasing any remnants of pleasure for both of you as you both calmed down. You held each other close, heavy breaths slowing into satisfied sighs. 

In-ho laid down next to you and pulled you to him, kissing the side of your face and brushing his fingers through your hair. Your entire body felt exhausted, but not like before. 

In-ho leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Are you alright now?”

You sleepily nodded. “Yes. Very much so.”

He smiled, satisfied, and rested his head near yours. As he stroked your head, he whispered.

“You know I would do anything for you, right?”

You gave him a concerned look. “Of course.”

He looked at you fiercely. “So don’t be afraid to ask for what you want.”

You sighed, almost pouting. After a few moments, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled, pulling you close and the blanket over you two, both of you quickly falling into a satisfied slumber.

[trench-rot]

HEARTSICK - YMIR

Got me just to hate me more, loved me just to play me You're killing me from the inside Then you go tell me that I'm always yours, say that just to leave me So heartsick while you fade into the night I tried running, now I'm crawling All I can do is submit Barely have the strength to spit the venom Dripping from your ivy lips Someone save me, I am pleading I don't know what's to come if my life comes undone Who'll be next in the line when they gaze in your eyes Got me just to hate me more, loved me just to play me You're a devil in a pretty disguise Think you could hurt me like you did before Comeback just to break me, don't kiss me like it's fine

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS YOUR HUSBAND!

୨ৎ pairing: husband!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! mild smut! & more fluff

୨ৎ from myeong: hi! thank you for requesting and I’ve been so excited to get this done for you! hope you can enjoy it x

ʚɞ GDRAGON VS JIYONG?

of course there’s a small difference here and there.. we are speaking about the gdragon himself! but he is still your caring, thoughtful, loving, affectionate, and kind man that you decided to marry hoping to spend the rest of your life with—which you will bc there is no way that he’s letting you go. never ever.

he’s the sweetest man. takes such good care of you and makes it his mission to get you whatever it is that you want or need—don’t even have to ask! if he knows you’re wanting something? you’ll have it.

will learn how to make your favorite dishes in an instant! say he’s not the best at cooking or maybe it’s just this particular meal? will go as far as taking a class just to learn how to make it the perfect way.

absolutely adores when you’re able to watch him on stage and no not just on the television he’ll want you at every concert or show he does. that’s when the king of k-pop comes out! but when the show is finished and his eyes find you? oh there is your cute and sweet jiyong again that’ll do anything for you.

a very touchy man he is—especially in the morning he’ll need to be wrapped around you. either his arm is wrapped around your waist or he’s got his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer to his warm chest, hearing the soft sound of his calm heartbeat that he always says “beats just for you.”

even when he’s in public with you and he is the gdragon himself.. he’s still your sweet husband and will always take care of you. he enjoys pushing his fingers through your hair and pulling you closer to him by your waist and looking down at you with a cute goofy smile on his face. nothing about this man changes just because you’re in public.

writes so many songs about you. the majority of them he won’t release and waits until he thinks they’re perfect to show you and he’ll call you into the studio for you to hear while you sit on his lap. he’ll stare up at you the whole time wanting to see your reaction and how you genuinely feel about it.

“what do you think, baby? I worked so hard on it and I just.. wanted to make it perfect for you—us.” his hand will be resting on your lower back and he’ll smile up at you from time to time just seeing how flustered you get from all of this. he loves that part.

not sure if this sounds weird! but I think it’s sweet and he’ll think it’s even sweeter but he enjoys slow dancing with you in the living room. picking out the perfect slow older korean song and grabbing you gently by the waist and slowly dancing with you even if you’re both not that good at it. it’ll be both a very romantic gesture and funny memory.

sometimes… you get gdragon in bed. he’s more rough with you but will always ask if this is okay first before he proceeds. sometimes he can’t help himself and craves you so badly that he becomes like a desperate animal in heat. his kisses are rough, hot, and messy against your lips while his hands roam your perfectly crafted body.

“fuck—you look so good underneath me like this. you always do.. such a perfect girl for me, hm? you like this don’t you? like it when I’m rough with you.”

he can go a few rounds. a few breaks in between to check on you and make sure you’re okay before he wants to go at it again. morning sex is also quite popular with him. he enjoys slow, romantic, and sweet morning sex. sometimes he’s a bit rough but he’ll apologize and ask if you’re doing okay.

you’re his passenger princess!! he’ll take you all over the place and rest his hand on your thigh, or grab at your hand and hold it like he’s never held it before and place soft pecks to your fingers. when stopped at stop lights he’ll take pictures of you before handing the phone over to you and asking to take pictures of him. he calls these ‘cute memories’

if you two get into an argument it won’t last. he doesn’t think it’s right to stay mad at you especially if the argument is such a petty one. he’ll break first and apologize and ask what he could do to make things better for the both of you. he enjoys being mature about it and handling things with care.

loves sharing his art with you and he eventually takes his art to another level and makes it all about you. pieces that he’s either worked on or just bought are strictly for you and he’ll wait for the perfect moment to show you and tell you about each piece and what it means for the both of you.

[catboyieejeno]

mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

[burrowdarling]

Dress

Summary: Joe begs you to join him at an event, where a dress leads to a confession of feelings. Based off of the song "Dress" by Taylor Swift

Pairings: Joe Burrow x best friend to lover!reader

Warnings: implied smut, pining, best friends to lovers

Note: Hi! I hope you're all doing okay, I know this week has been tough and long. I hope this can bring some kind of joy during a hard time. This is my first time writing based off of a song. I would love to turn this into some kind of mini series or maybe interconnected standalones. Let me know your thoughts or song suggestions, I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9K

Check out my Masterlist here!

“Pleaseeee come with me, you owe me a favor, remember? It’ll be fun I promise”. Joe begged from his spot on the couch.

Joe had invited you out to one of the team dinner gatherings as his date, insisting that you had to come with him or he would be “too bored to function”. You tried not to place too much weight on the “date” part of the deal, knowing it would be more as friends than anything. He was putting on the whole theatrics, pouting with puppy dog eyes.

“You want me to come to the dinner that you’ve been complaining will be ‘so boring’ so I have to suffer too? I don’t hardly see how that’s comparable to the favor you did for me by taking out my recycling for me that you offered to do” you questioned, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he’s been making it out to be.

“Hey, in my defense it was a lot of boxes to carry okay? You can be my source of entertainment, I won’t be able to survive without that” he explained, falling more into the dramatics as he dropped down onto the couch behind him to really solidify his point, exhaling a big sigh as he did so. 

“I hardly doubt that Joseph, you’re being so dramatic” you said with your arms folded over your chest, not going to fold to his pleading that easy. Turning away from him as you sat across from him.

“I guess you won’t know unless you come with me then, huh” Joe said with a small pout on his lips, knowing it was the surefire way to win you over. In reality, he didn't have to even try. While Joe was your best friend, you’ve had feelings for him for a while now that have only grown with time the closer you two have gotten. Meeting back at LSU, you had so many memories together that have only made your friendship what it is today.

“C’mon, what else will it take for you to agree to go? I’ll do anything Y/N.”

Your heart rate picked up at his comment, needing to will yourself back to reality that there are so many other mundane things he could do to sweeten the deal for you. Thank god you had your back turned, able to give yourself a second to breathe. In all honesty, you would go just to spend more time with him, it was always fun to make him work for it though.

“Fine, but I won’t have anything to wear so you’re fronting my cost for a new dress” you stated turning yourself back towards him, sticking out your hand to signify the offer.

“You could’ve just asked that from the beginning. Deal” Joe agreed, returning your gesture and shaking on the deal.

_______________________________________________

It was finally the day of the dinner, taking the day to get yourself ready with an everything shower and full skincare routine. You made a day of it, pampering yourself after you had gone out to get the perfect dress. It complimented the color of Joe’s suit perfectly, while accentuating all of your favorite parts of yourself. It wasn’t anything too elaborate, but it made you feel confident and that’s what matters. You may or may not have also thought about Joe when picking it out, what he would think about when he saw you in it. You quickly shook the resurfacing thoughts from your mind as you slipped it on, careful not to mess up your look.

While you were applying the finishing touches to your look, your mind wandered to thoughts about yours and Joe’s friendship. You had met during one of his first classes when he transferred to LSU, asking you for directions to his next class. It happened that you were going the same way, offering to show him and the rest was history. On paper, you both were opposites, but that’s almost why you complimented each other so well. You matched one another's energy and could read the other like a book. It almost felt as if you didn't need to speak the thought out loud at times, able to tell what the other was thinking.

You and Joe had been there for each other all throughout college, being a support system and lifeline in the hard times as well as the biggest cheerleader for the highest highs. Through every breakup, Joe was always there to pick up the pieces he didn’t break, comforting you while giving you the praise he felt you deserved. Another thing you wrote off as him just being your best friend. No one wanted to see their best friend sad, so it was natural to want to cheer them up, right?

You were drawn out of your thoughts to the sound of your front door closing, signaling Joe had arrived.

“Hey Y/N, you ready to go?” he called from your living room, making his way through your apartment.

“Just a minute, I’m finishing up and we can head out” you called back, hearing his footsteps get closer as you spoke.

There was a sudden pause as the sound of Joe approaching got closer, turning to see him stopped in your doorway. He leaned his body up against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You look absolutely amazing, I love that we have a matching thing going on” Joe said as he looked you up and down, his gaze taking you in.

 It all felt like too much, turning your attention back to the mirror in front of you.

When you were leaving your apartment to get into his car, Joe placed a gentle hand around your waist to keep you steady in your heels as you walked across the pavement parking lot. Your skin felt like it was ablaze under his touch, finding yourself craving more of it as his hand dropped to get the door for you.

“Thanks” you mumbled, trying to regain your composure back as the night was just beginning.

_______________________________________________

The night drew on, Joe not letting you far out of his reach as he spoke with his teammates and other guests that were there. It felt as if you had a pull to one another, a sense of palpable tension between you in the air. Joe seemed to be a lot touchier than usual, tending to keep you close when one of his teammates would get a bit too close for what must have been his liking. It all felt like too good to be true, that he must have really wanted you near him

There was only what you could describe as a Joe shaped indentation in your life, making any man incomparable to the standard he set for you without even knowing. So many guys in the past few years have tried to take their shot with you, but you never let any of them get too feeling like they were missing something that you were looking for. Even the ones that did ended up breaking your heart, leaving you feeling a deeper hollow pit than before them. 

He was so close to you at the table, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of his body that was clad so nicely in his suit, his arm slung protectively over the back of your chair as if he was staking his claim over you. It was taking so much willpower to not just lean over and say the most unspeakable things to him. To finally confess everything you’ve been feeling, wondering if he felt the same or if it would be a waste of time and ruin everything you created together.

In this moment, it felt like just the two were the only ones despite the room being so crowded with other guests. You leaned over, placing a delicate hand on Joe's thigh to test his reaction. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, close enough to hear his breath hitch in his throat. All signs were pointing in the right direction.

“Y/N” Joe said, his voice labored and breathy.

The way he says your name, stopping you in your tracks, short circuiting your mind for a moment. That was the kind of power he had over you, the ability to completely send your senses into overdrive without even realizing he was doing so. You tried your best to shut your mind off, taking the opportunity to tell him while you had the courage to do so.

“I don’t want you like a best friend” you spoke, voice keeping composure while trying to keep yourself from backing out.

Joe’s eyes closed as his head subtly dropped back against his chair. A quiet groan coming from his throat online loud enough for your ears only.

You leaned closer to his ear, keeping your body language as natural as possible with everything you’re feeling. Noticing how he was reacting to your words and proximity.

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off” your confidence shifting with a hint of seduction in your voice, sealing your fate to ending your friendship or starting a new chapter.

That seemed like the last straw for his own composure, not being able to contain his own building desire. Joe turned to look towards you, his gaze darkening from your confession, your grip tightening on his thigh as he tried to process the moment.

Without speaking, Joe stood from the table of his teammates and began gathering his things as he silently gestured for you to do the same. 

“I think we’re gonna get going guys, Y/N isn’t feeling too well so I’m gonna bring her home” Joe said casually, holding out a hand for you to take.

Everyone said their goodbyes and wished you well. The minute you were out of the vicinity from everyone, Joe heaved you over his shoulder and began to hustle towards the car.

“JOE” you yelped followed by a light chuckle, caught off guard by his actions.

He didn’t reply until he got you to the car, dropping you carefully to your feet and pressed your back against the car door.

He leaned close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine as he spoke “you have no idea how long I've wanted you. First, I'm gonna get you home and we're gonna get you out of this dress so I can do all of the things I’ve only ever dreamt of doing to you. Then we can talk about where we want to go from here, but I sure as shit don’t want to go back to just being friends. Does that work for you, sweetheart?” 

You didn’t trust your voice in that moment, not knowing if words would come out if you tried and opted for a firm nod.

He backed away from the car, bringing you towards him so he could open the door for you.

“Get in mamas and buckle up, because once we get home, you’re in for a ride” closing the door before you could give him a response.

You were about to be in for a night you didn’t expect, but one that would change everything for the best.

Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!

[shouyuus]

popular host club host!keigo who's constantly the top 1 or 2 in his host club, so he's got a long roster of regulars, but one of them happens to be a good friend of yours who brings you in one day bc you're a bit naive and she thought it was about time you got out there in the world

host!keigo who is no stranger to shy little birdies, but still has a job to do, so he does his usual thing with your friend, asks about her part time job, compliments her new hairstyle, asks if she's gotten that one toner he recommended, before turning to you and offering you a smile and a wink, and is more charmed than a man in his profession should be at the way you turn red and refuse to meet his eyes

host!keigo who keeps it casual, wears relaxed, but chic street-style clothing and keeps his roots bleached well, but almost nothing else, except for the two slits of black he inks into his inner corners; says that they keep his eyes sharp so he can see all his favorite little birds at the club, of course. and suddenly, you can kinda see why your friend likes coming here so much -- the conversation is nice and he's never too pushy, but it's effortless, the way he talks about himself and gets everyone to talk about themselves as well.

host!keigo who's earnest when he asks you about your interest and feels himself smiling when you light up and talk about the things you love -- reading, painting, photography -- your friend cuts in that it's a shame you're too shy to ask him to be a model for one of your projects bc he does photograph really well, to which you blush even harder and keigo wonders briefly if there's something in the air or in the drinks today bc wow is he feeling just a tad lightheaded and from the looks of it so are you.

host!keigo who, when your friends goes to the bathroom, leans across the booth to hand you his card, just a black card with two bright red wings embossed onto the hard cardstock, runs a finger along the line of your cheek, tilts your chin up and says, "if you ever wanna come see me too... i'll make time for you, dove. all you gotta do is ask." but when u tell him, a little too honestly, that you can't afford him, he just looks at you with a little smirk and says "like i said, dove, i'll make time for you." and leaves it at that

host!keigo who texts you good morning and goodnight, who asks you if you've eaten, who, you're pretty sure, on his days off, pings you and asks you what you're doing. so you tell him that you don't have plans and he immediately calls to ask if you want to hang out -- he picks you up at the train station, wearing just a fitted black tee and some loose-fitted jeans, but even then, people are turning around, doing double takes, but he doesn't seem to notice, only grinning and jogging up to meet you, asking if there's anywhere you'd like to go

host!keigo who takes u to the aquarium and then to the park, where you do a few doodles in your notepad. he leans over to watch and even though your first instinct is to hide your work, you let him see it anyway -- something about him makes you want to trust him, and for once, you want to lean into that. he tells you that your art is beautiful, and you ask, before you can stop yourself, if you can draw him, "it'd be my honor, little bird."

host!keigo who makes you laugh by doing the most dramatic poses before leaning up against a tree and closing his eyes and you sketch him out, feeling your heart in your throat, but when you show him, he goes still and quiet, before asking if he can keep it. you nod and hand the sketch over, blushing bc he holds it like it's lost treasure, something he's spent his whole life looking for --

host!keigo who takes you to dollar karaoke, claps and laughs as you try to sing the current idol song, who is, unsurprisingly, fantastic at singing and tells you to pick your favorite song for him to serenade to you, who pays for all the drinks and never asks you to shell out a time; when you try to get the last round, he gently pushes your hand away and says "not today, little bird, i wanna do this so... let me."

host!keigo who, when you ask him if he does this with all his clients, bends down and flicks a bit of hair from your face before his eyes flicker down to your lips, says, "no... only the ones i really, really like."

host!keigo who offers to walk you back to the station but when you get there, he seems hesitant to say something -- when you gently ask about it, he lets out a tiny little laugh, shakes his head and says, "y'know it's weird -- all these years of being a host... i've never felt like this before but... you just -- god, how embarrassing, right? my whole job is to be good at talking to people and here i am, at a loss for words --" he pauses, runs a hand through his hair before turning back towards you with an earnest smile, "guess what im trying to say is... i spend all day tryna make people feel like they're special, like they're the only person in the entire world but... with you... it's the first time someone's made me feel like that and... i kinda wanna be selfish, be greedy and take you somewhere and keep you all to myself but..."

host!keigo who thinks he might be losing his mind when you smile up at him with that brilliant blush of yours and tell him that "if that's what you wanted... i wouldn't mind... if it were you."

[afterglowsainz]

oscar piastri & 3 🧡

did i fall out of line when i called you? | oscar piastri

song; mess it up - gracie abrams

part of the spotify wrapped special

Every time Oscar got too close, he messed it up.

But it was okay; you forgave him because he was Oscar. Oscar, who had commitment issues. Oscar, who was trying hard to have a lasting relationship with you. Oscar, who loved you deeply. But you also knew he was Oscar, who couldn’t have something good without ruining it.

The day he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you said yes, he went to a club to celebrate and ended up fighting a man who had simply asked you where the bathroom was, thinking the man was flirting with you. He ended the night with a split eyebrow and a broken nose.

The day he was supposed to meet your parents, he got so nervous that he drank too much whiskey and fell asleep, missing lunch with your parents and disappointing you in the process.

The first time you went to watch one of his races in person, anxiety got the best of him, and he didn’t pick you up on the way to the airport, using the excuse that he “forgot.” You knew he hadn’t forgotten—he had simply chickened out and was too coward to admit the truth.

Still, you forgave him every time.

It was just a few hours were left until an event McLaren was hosting with one of its sponsors, and Oscar had begged you to accompany him. It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree. But something felt off; something didn’t feel right.

When Oscar suddenly stopped replying to your messages, you got worried. Early in the relationship, it happened more often—he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend, so he wasn’t used to replying to messages. It was one of the many conversations where you had to remind him that you didn’t care if he didn’t reply instantly; you knew he was a busy man. But he couldn’t go four days without responding and then show up as if nothing had happened. After that talk, his communication improved.

With less than thirty minutes left before your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up for the event, and no sign of him, you knew—without him even saying it—that he had once again changed his mind about taking you, and you wouldn’t be attending the event that night. You looked at your reflection in the mirror: the beautiful long white dress you had bought specifically for the occasion and the elegant silver jewelry adorning your neck—all for nothing.

When it became obvious Oscar wasn’t coming, you took everything off, put on your pajamas, crawled under the covers, and turned on your computer to watch a movie. At some point during the night, you checked Instagram and came across the worst thing you could’ve seen. A video of your boyfriend at the event’s afterparty, dancing with a girl who was definitely not you.

Technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong—he hadn’t kissed her or slept with her. But the feeling of betrayal consumed you entirely and settled deep inside.

It was over.

Months had passed since the breakup, and Oscar couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were his favorite thought whenever he didn’t have to use his brain power—while waiting in line for coffee, while driving from home to the MTC, when turning off the lights and trying to sleep. He thought about you and how much he missed you.

He knew there were many things you had forgiven him for that you didn’t have to. And he also knew that the one thing you hadn’t forgiven him for was what he regretted the most. Nothing had happened with the girl in the video—they’d only danced a couple of songs. But afterward, he felt dirty and missed you.

When he arrived at your place, he was shocked to see you crying and then shocked at how quickly your tears turned into angry shouts. You ended things, throwing him out of your apartment.

But tonight, he couldn’t sleep. He wanted to hear your voice and see you. He knew if he showed up at your place, you wouldn’t open the door. So, he settled for the second-best thing and called you.

Did he cross the line? Was it too soon? He knew the answer was yes when you didn’t answer his call. And when he called again, it went straight to voicemail.

The third-best thing, then.

Oscar opened your chat, the one he had neglected far too often but now couldn’t stop staring at, remembering the goodnight messages you used to send him and the ones wishing him luck in his races.

“I know I wasn’t a good boyfriend at all, and I know I don’t deserve you in any way, but I miss you. You made me a better person and a better man. I know every time something good happened between us, I managed to ruin it one way or another, and I’m truly sorry. But I also feel like if you let me back in, we can make it better. I can do better. I’ve improved my habits, and I’ve pulled myself back together. I’m so sorry for all the times I hurt you. I want to show you I’m not the same person as before. Please, give me one more chance.

I love you.”

Send.

[captain-hawks]

oh well... I mean... how about oliver x snowed in? do we manage not to punch him in the face by the end of it?

over easy 🎀 oliver aiku x f!reader

In which domesticity creeps into the all the cracks in you and Oliver's casual arrangement as you find yourself snowed in at his apartment.

1.4k — fluff, soft oliver, fwb, mentions of sex

It’s no good for your stupid, reckless heart—this predicament.

“Over easy? And two sugars in your coffee, right?” Oliver’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

It’s so fucking domestic, the way he says it. 

Like you’re not just some girl he fucks into his king size mattress in the middle of the night twice a week.

Like you’re not just going on your third morning of being stranded at his apartment because your car’s buried under several feet of snow that just keeps on coming down.

Like it’s okay that your heart fumbles meekly behind the confines of your ribcage whenever he tugs you back into his bed to stay the night. 

(That beats so hard it aches when he spins you around to kiss you in the doorway on your way out.)

You’re not dating.

You can’t date him.

Oliver doesn’t date.

But he’s handsome and charming and polite and funny and the sex is so good that you’ve never come so hard in your life and—

There’s no fucking Oliver out of your system unless it’s with Oliver himself.

And if you have some inconvenient feelings dangling on the sidelines, that’s your cross to bear on your own time when he’s not fucking you stupid in the backseat of his car or eating you out on his kitchen counter.

You don’t ask Oliver what he does on nights that he’s not with you. And you tell yourself it’s because it’s none of your goddamn business, not because you know his answer would probably hurt you too much to hear.

You assume, anyway.

But now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve lost any and all hope of digging your car out by tomorrow for your family dinner—not that you really wanted to go to that, anyway. 

And Oliver’s humming a Christmas song under his breath while he makes you breakfast, while you stand in his living room wearing nothing but one of his practice jerseys while perusing his bookshelf. 

It feels dangerously, terribly, awfully domestic.

And part of you thinks you’d be better off trudging across town home on foot than bearing the full weight of this walk of shame when the snow melts.

You’ve spent hours on his couch over the past few days, and he can’t seem to stop touching you. He scoots closer if you sit down too far away, places a hand on your ankle if it’s in reach, tucks your feet under his thigh. He puts his head in your lap or tugs yours down into his when you start yawning. He plays with your hair and your fingers—

And the two of you have been making your way through your favorite show, one that he’s never seen, one that you didn’t even think he would like. But it was his idea.

You even went down to his apartment building’s gym last night—something which didn’t feel strange in and of itself until Oliver kept appearing out of nowhere any time a guy tried to strike up a conversation with you, going so far as outright making out with you while you were on one of the stationary bikes. 

(The two of you barely made it through the door back up in his apartment before he was fucking you right there on the floor in the entryway.)

And you’ve yet to examine the feeling that stirred in your gut when you found oat milk in his fridge, knowing full well he doesn’t drink it. 

“Oh yeah, almost forgot to tell you. That’s for you, I picked it up the other day. I know you hate using regular milk in your coffee.”

—and the bag of mini dark chocolate bars you spotted in his cabinet last night.

“Yeah, yeah, you were right. Dark chocolate’s better.”

—and the brand-new, full-size bottle of your body wash that was staring you in the face when the two of you climbed into his shower the first morning, a mirror to the tiny travel bottle that you’ve taken to keeping in your purse for accidental sleepovers.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to have to carry soap around in your purse—”

You hadn’t even realized he knew you did that.

And yet now, as your eyes stray to the Christmas tree that sits in the corner of his living room between two large windows that overlook the city below, it’s the sight beneath it that promises to be your undoing.

Nestled between several gifts addressed to his parents and sisters is a box wrapped in gold paper with a blue bow on it. Your name is written carefully in his handwriting on the white tag stuck to the top of it. 

Your heart catches in your throat.

—and oh god you’re going to kick his ass if it’s some stupidly expensive piece of jewelry that he probably didn’t even pick out himself in there, one that’ll make you feel like you’re his even if you’re really not.

And you didn’t even get him anything because this is fucking casual—

“Wanna open it now?” You jump as Oliver’s voice comes up beside you, his chest against your back while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” you stall, your noses brushing when you turn to look at him, but he spins you back toward the tree. 

“Yeah, I’m too impatient though,” he sighs, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as he reaches past you, arms hugging your sides while he places the package in your hands.

It’s oblong and light.

You’re glad, if nothing else, that he’s not directly facing you to see your uneasy facial expression. Slowly, with the tip of your finger, you begin to peel back the wrapping paper.

White bristles and bright green plastic greet you beneath it.

A toothbrush.

“Be my girlfriend,” Oliver whispers, nose brushing against your cheek. 

You choke out a laugh as your heart swoops. “You got me a toothbrush?”

Girlfriend.

“You would have thought jewelry was a tacky way to ask,” he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You tilt your face into the kiss, murmuring against his mouth, “I didn’t get you anything.”

You almost did.

Several times, actually.

But nothing screams casual hookup gone rogue like a fucking Christmas present—and that was the last thing you wanted him to think.

And yet—

Oliver shrugs, spinning you around and cupping your face, the toothbrush still clutched in your hands. “You’re my gift.”

There’s no hiding the ridiculous smile that creeps across your face as he kisses you, tugging you with him as he walks backward into the couch, pulling you into his lap.

His lips are warm and soft as his mouth engulfs yours, kissing you in a way that you know now is far too familiar to be casual. Far too easy and gentle and intimate as he cups the back of your head and feathers a thumb against your hip bone and nips your bottom lip and laughs and—

He stops kissing you and looks at you seriously. “Oh, I also got you that dough mixer you kept looking at videos of when we were laying in bed that one night, but it’s going to be late because of the storm. I don’t want you to think I actually only got you a toothbrush.”

You blink at him.

“Oliver!”

He grins. “What?”

“I’m leaving right now to get you a gift,” you grouse, trying to hop out of his lap.

The room spins as he lifts you up, and you find yourself caged in beneath him on the couch.

“We’re snowed in,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“I’ll walk,” you frown.

“Nope,” he counters, hands sliding to pin your wrists above your head. “I’ve got the perfect gift already. Have you met my girlfriend yet?”

He reaches down into his pocket to pull out his phone, and you’re met with a photo of you laughing that you hadn’t even realized he took.

And it’s his wallpaper, for fuck’s sake.

Girlfriend.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs as he puts down his phone and cups your face, lips brushing against yours. “And smart.” Kiss. “And funny.” Kiss. “And—”

“I didn’t say yes.” 

Oliver stills, blinking several times as he looks down at you with a serious expression.

You roll your eyes as you thread your fingers in his hair and tug his mouth back down against yours.

“Yes.”

A pleased sound of satisfaction rumbles in his throat as his mouth skirts away from your lips, leaving a chaotic, hot, messy trail of kisses across your face, down your neck, across your collarbone—

The smoke alarm goes off somewhere in the kitchen.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

“Thank You TikTok” Masterlist

~ a series of text imagines between you and Joe all inspired by random TikTok videos ~

Started: 12 September 2024

Last Updated: 17 January 2025

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

fluff - 🌞 smut - 🌚 mix - 🌗 angst - ☄️

most popular - 🌙 newest - ⚡️ request - 💫

i. booktok ~ ever since he downloaded TikTok, Joe’s learnt a lot more about his beautiful bookworm 🌗

ii. say high ~ Joe takes part in some recreational activities and tries (and fails) to hide it from those who know him the best 🌗💫

iii. the real afterparty ~ y/n comes across a TikTok of a bride and groom doing a wardrobe change together, so naturally, she asks her fiance his opinion 🌚

iv. happy weight ~ nothing says a great relationship like two people falling in love while getting fat together, well that’s what TikTok says 🌖

v. pay attention ~ cons to working with your man... he's you're a distraction 🌞

vi. come home ~ it’s been a while since you’ve seen your man, so you left him a present🌒

vii. how that shit tastes ~ they say it's a man's drink so you've never tried it, so you ask your man about his drink of choice 🌗

viii. you like that ~ inspired by another TikTok, Joe compiles a list of things he likes about you🌖

ix. babies ~ you tell your husband about your daughter's supermarket antics, and he gets baby fever? 🌖

x. heroes & princes ~ everyone makes mistakes, even great boyfriends but especially if he has Tee and Ja’Marr as friends 🌞

xi. roses ~ you have a new favorite song and a certain TikTok gives you an idea on how to introduce it to your man 🌚

xii. you're enough ~ you and Joe feel losses hard, so you try your best to make him feel better after this one 🌖

xiii. i can fix her ~ you end up on Joe's fyp for the worst reason possible ☄️

xiv. im a fan ~ Joe finds your secret TikTok account in the best way possible 🌖

xv. it's just a trend ~ you participate in a certain dance trend with a song Joe does not like ☄️ 🌖

xvi. hey shawty ~ you watched a TikTok on how to domesticate your boyfriend, let's see how he does ☄️🌞

xvii. treat me ~ despite always receiving royalty treatment from your boyfriend, you decide to tease him with one of your favorite songs🌚

xviii. ruined me ~ Joe ruined you for all men, this is how he reacts when you tell him 🌗

xix. hey daddy ~ in order to keep your relationship fresh, you do what all couples do... send each other ridiculous pick up lines 🌘

xx. boyfriend blindness ~ your boyfriend becomes a comedian, so you have to show him who he's playing with 🌖

xxi. mini gossip girl ~ your daughter comes home and spills everything about her dad's life 🌞

xxii. daddy duties ~ Joe's left alone for more than a few hours with his boys and chaos ensues 🌞

xxiii. mini gossip girl 2 ~ your daughter is at it again, but this time it works out in Joe's favor🌖

xxiv. talkin nonsense ~ relationships should be fun, especially when you both are on the same level 🌘

xxv. speechless ~ you sent your friend Joe some messages that were not for him to see 🌖

xxvi. mini gossip girl 3 ~ now older, your daughter's mouth reveals some truths she was not ready for 🌖

xxvii. bye week ~ Joe gets caught lying to his pregnant wife 🌖

xxviii. wait, pause ~ you and joe are in the middle of a fight, but he has some tea to spill 🌗☄️💫

xxix. we listen and we don't judge ~ Joe has an idea, Joe regrets his idea 🌖☄️💫

xxx. tatted truths ~ your true feelings for Joe are exposed by decisions you made on one drunken night 🌘

xxxi. hearts on deck ~ Joe needs to apologize for his acts… in his fiancée’s dream 🌗☄️💫

xxxii. hold on, rewind ~ part two of 'wait, pause' includes more drama 🌖☄️💫

xxxiii. just friends ~ 🌗💫

updates about twice a week🪷

requests to join this series are open! just send me a quote or link to a video and your fav pic of Joe (along with anything else you desire) to be included!

[good-griief]

losing game pt. 1

HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!

as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic

part two part three

read me click me

──────────✿───────────

Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life. 

When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize. 

She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.

And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke. 

Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.

She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned. 

There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed. 

Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek. 

There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her. 

So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set. 

“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up. 

You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”

You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh. 

You were such an idiot. 

She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known. 

Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing. 

You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt. 

And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come. 

When would you learn your lesson?

“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know… probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”

And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you���d ever heard. 

Still, she texted you after the show. 

She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms. 

But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show. 

You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule. 

And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos. 

every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way. 

The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.” 

Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.” 

Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off. 

The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.” 

Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.” 

And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers. 

Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away. 

Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account. 

Then you called Ellie. 

It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung. 

But she called right back. 

You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”

You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing. 

“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?” 

“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“If you’re already headed to sleep—“

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow. 

You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment. 

You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse. 

“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter. 

Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go. 

There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek. 

“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before. 

You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead. 

Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.