#that is not what happens to me when i get nervous in auditions lol

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

He's so cutie <3

[galactic-rhea]

irt your latest midi-chlorian/mitochondria post - what do you think would happen to him??? :0

See, this is why I shouldn't make that type of posts sleep deprived and away from home in a college field trip in which we were in four different states on a single day.

This is the post anon is referring to

Logically (now that my mind is more clear) the answer should be that he would die, if it's severe enough as how the analog fungicide i mentioned worked lol

See, the fungicide I was rambling around forces the rRNA to malfunction and thus the nucleus stops producing certain proteins needed for the cell. And is just deathly, there are certain fungi that can handle that better, if the application of that fungicide isn't consistent and thus they become resistent, but fungi are impressive organism that can multiply faster and live on incredible conditions, given that they have like, at the very least, three different types of spores (there are ascomycetes that have like 6-7 different spores through their cycle).

But allas, back to my favorite deranged blorbo.

That's stright up a death sentence for anyone, really. But especially for Anakin who has only half of human genetic material and the other half is just the force. With me theory about the midi-chlorians being the mithocondria equivalent, Anakin would be on such a perilous spot between dying on the spot and being basically a pseudo-god, because he has so many midichlorians in his cells that his cells are dying at an extre rate, but he needs the midichlorians to be able to live (and handle) that much power flowing through him due the force. This hypothetical scenario would break this balance to the core, and even if a normal person could survive until reaching an hospital and being given a diagnosis, Anakin could probably drop death on the spot, like I said, is cellular death and growth must be on record time, and this could be helpful with other ailments.

But with the midichlorian failling him and not enough energy because the new midichlorian would be failing as well, there's a chance that The Force would kill him, the equivalent of overheating or when a lightning strikes and you get too much electricity on a single lightbulb.

HOWEVER, to make this interesting and because let's be real, this is fricking Star Wars and this is fricking Anakin I-Survived-More-Deathly-Accidents-Than-I-Can-Count-Skywalker, let's pretend this midichlorian killer chemical isn't as effective as the analog fungicide I was talking about, it doesn't affect ALL of the midichlorians, but just a few to get our good-and then evil-and then good again-boy.

Whump makers take note, please:

It would depend, honestly, but generally speaking, it would mean he's out of all that supply of energy he uses the keep going. He would get something akin to chronic fatigue, momentarily he's all righty, and then of all sudden lifting a pencil is too much.

Being so strong in the force, but without the biological resources to handle it, he would like, pass out after using the force. Meditating could be the equivalent to ask him if he wants to go into comma. If he already felt cold, he's about to start shaking just by going out, this boy has not enough glycogen storage.

But that's the best of the diagnosis, the worst ones are if this affects the neuronal and nervous system cells. I mentioned briefly that an excess of ATP was linked to autism, ADHD, ocd, and other neurogivergencies, and even neurodegenerative diseases and dementia.

Well, the lack of ATP can do this as well, so there's that.

To name some few, very general ones:

-Epilepsy and seizures

-Vision loss, audition loss or auditory hallucinations.

-Disorientation

-Muscular pain.

-Headaches.

-Problems with reflexes like swallowing or breathing.

-Vomits.

-Accelerated (even more, in Anakin's case) cellular death.

-Loss of hair and muscular mass.

Given that in this second scenario, the midichlorians-killer hypothetical chemical isn't as effective and wouldn't case an inmediate death, then Anakin's fast healing qualitys would actually be super duper helpful then, it would be great to compare his healthy cells with the sick ones. In this case, I bet a doctor would be more than eager to take a sample of Anakin's stem cells.

He would be a great lab rat for both the hypothetic evil mad scientist, AND for the eager doctors looking for a treatement and cure, and since this is a chemical and we're on a far far away galaxy, I'm pretty sure the cure would be not-too-hard to find.

Oh gosh I didn't expect to write this much, sorry for that anon, but I hope this satisfied you curiosity? ^^;

[floralcyanide]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 • 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

Part One

Roman Bridger x AFAB!Reader

The day Roman first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and usually, he was good at reading people off the bat. But you were a different story. Naturally, you only opened up when necessary, not letting people in if you didn’t have a reason to. So you were guarded, and Roman didn’t like that. He wanted to worm his way into your life, no matter what it took. 

If that took delving into his twisted past again in order to get to you, so be it. AFAB - (assigned female at birth) someone who is born female but can identify with she/her or other pronouns. reader pronouns are gender neutral, so people who use any pronouns can read, but female anatomy will be used and described in this fanfiction eventually.

request: Please could you write a Roman x reader where she is only supposed to be an extra in his movie, but he becomes obsessed with her and starts doing whatever it takes to make her part of the main cast so he can get much closer to her. by anon.

Can you do Roman with s/o that's an actor/actress? If you don't I'll cry myself to sleep :) by @hell0r0ck

warnings: none for this part!

word count: 1300

author's note: sorry it's kinda short, but I felt it was a great place to naturally stop. I do want this to be a few parts long, so we shall see how long it gets lol! thank you to those who sent in requests (: I'm happy to be writing for the Scream fandom again <3 if you enjoy this and want me to continue, please reblog/ like/ comment!

series masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re about to do a simple audition process in order to be an extra in the new Stab movie. There’s not much to it- just getting into hair, makeup, and costume and then blending into the background when ordered to do so. You’re pretty good at becoming invisible already, but you’re still nervous. The movie's director is attractive, in your humble opinion, and he’s the one who conducts the auditions. So you’re most anxious about doing something embarrassing in front of him. In your self-absorbed imagination, you hope, for whatever reason, the director notices you out of everyone here. But the chances of that happening are astronomically low.

You’re in an area full of other random people auditioning to be extras, possibly around fifty people altogether, solidifying why you won’t be so much as blinked at. You managed to snag a seat earlier when you arrived before people began pouring into the studio. You’re squirming in the chair anxiously, switching which leg to cross over the other often, and playing with your hair without noticing. 

“Are you okay?” someone from next to you whispers.

You glance over to your right and see a small girl around your age studying you with concern. 

You nod, “I’m fine. Just kinda nervous.”

“I can tell,” the girl smiles gently, offering a hand, “I’m Sage.” 

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

“Is this your first time auditioning?” Sage asks, her eyes curious of your answer.

“Nope,” you shake your head, “I’ve been in plenty of shows and movies.”

“Then why are you so worried? You’ve got this!” the chipper blonde grins.

You hesitantly chuckle and lean in closer to her to whisper, “I think the director is cute.”

“Roman? He’s alright. Not my type, but he’s really nice! I’ve worked with him before.”

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows, intrigued to learn more about Roman now that you know his name.

“Yeah, he directed some shitty horror movie about a year ago, and I was one of the random bystanders that got killed. He always made sure all the extras were the best they could be. I doubt half of these people here will make it because he’s really picky,” Sage rambles.

“Good to know,” you say, now even more nervous than before.

The room suddenly hushes, and everyone looks in one direction at whoever caused the silence.

“Welcome to Stab 3, everyone! I’m Roman, and I’m the director. Let’s get started.”

Everyone is ordered to a set where we all stand aimlessly and talk to each other or walk around. According to Roman, anyone breaking their character or not looking convincing enough will get booted. Upon his signal to begin, we all take random places around the set and pretend to be nobody. Piece of cake. There are placeholders for the actual main actors reciting lines for the scene we’re practicing to make it more natural. You avoid your eyes from anyone specific other than Sage, pretending to be deep in conversation with her. Roman walks around the set like a ghost, dismissing people here and there. He has a hand on his chin, rubbing it inquisitively as he studies everyone he passes. A group of girls giggles at Roman when he walks by them, to which he then dismisses them off the set. You avert your eyes back to Sage quickly before he notices. In your vision field, you can see him walking in your direction.

Sage notices your staring and looks at you knowingly before learning her throat, “So have you heard?” 

“Heard what?” you say, trying to remain in character the best you can as Roman inches ever closer.

“There’s a masked killer on the loose,” Sage looks around nervously, quieting her voice.

“Seriously?” you furrow your eyebrows, half wondering if she was actually serious or if she was just playing her part, “Do they know who it is?”

Sage shrugs as Roman stands by the two of you, watching with a slight gleam in his eye, “No one does. We just have to make sure to stay safe. So if you go anywhere, don’t go alone.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere alone,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully, “No pun intended.”

Roman stifles a laugh, “Good job, you two. I’ll see you on the real set soon,” he winks.

You look at Sage with wide eyes as he walks away, and she pats your shoulder with a smile, “I told you that you had this in the bag! Besides, I know Roman enough to know that he thinks you’re cute.”

You try not to snort, “And how do you know that?”

“He’s still staring at you.”

Trying your best to look casual, you scratch your neck and turn around slowly, darting your eyes around to avoid direct contact with Roman. Your eyes land beside his face, where you can see him sneaking a peek at you before turning away.

“Told you,” Sage snickers, “Now come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand now that we have the parts.”

The two of you head over to the area where other extras which have been accepted are sitting. There are about 20 of you, while a measly 10 remain on the set. After 15 minutes, 5 more dwindle over to where you and Sage sit and converse.

“Alright, my extras,” Roman smiles as he approaches the group of you, “I’ll see you bright and early on the actual set tomorrow at seven sharp. Don’t be late.”

Everyone cheers and talks amongst themselves as you and Sage stand up from your seats, brushing yourselves off before making your way to the exit.

“You two,” Roman stops you both right at the stage door, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you. You guys seem too good to be extras.”

“Roman, you know good and well your team wouldn’t allow some random extras to be in the main cast. So keep dreaming, pretty boy,” Sage rolls her eyes with a laugh, “We’ve been down this road before. I’m not into major acting.”

“What about them?” Roman points to you, and you nervously cave in on yourself momentarily under his direct gaze.

“Uh,” you stutter, looking between Roman and Sage, “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how it goes tomorrow first,” you shrug.

“Alright,” Roman grins, “See you tomorrow.”

You nod, suppressing a smile. Once Roman is out of earshot, Sage squeals quietly.

“You two so like each other,” she giggles, pushing the door open.

“Remind me to block your number when I get home,” you say jokingly.

The following morning, you try your best to refrain from rubbing your tired eyes after having makeup applied to them. You’re standing at the coffee cart on set, clutching a cup of hot liquid as your eyes gloss over. Someone walks into your peripheral, waving their hand in front of your face.

“Are you there, sweetheart?”

Snapping out of it, you squeeze your eyes shut quickly before blinking rapidly to clear your vision. Roman is standing in front of you in a flattering button-up, a small smile on his lips.

“Sorry, just a little sleepy this morning,” you laugh nervously, pulling the cup of coffee closer to your chest before taking a cautious sip.

“That’s alright. It’s a slow day today, not much to film with many extras, so if you want, you can chill out on the sidelines,” Roman suggests, and you shake your head.

“Nope, I’m here to work. I’ll wake up here soon,” you take a large gulp of the hot, caffeinated beverage.

“A good attitude to have!” Roman grins, patting your shoulder, “See you on set later, then!”

Little did you know, you’d see Roman more than just on set. And he’d be seeing you everywhere you went. Everywhere all the time.

[micahtranslate]

Chainsaw Man Starter Rope Cast Interview: Tomori Kusunoki

How did you feel when you got the role?

Actually, I read Chainsaw Man at the recommendation of a friend, and when I read it he said, "If it's made into an anime, I want you to play Makima." Thinking back on it, that was really a ridiculous request (lol). As I read more and more, I became more and more immersed in the character, and even though it is a very difficult character, my desire to play Makima became stronger. And when it happened, I cried with joy. It felt like all my hard work had paid off.

What would you say are Makima's charms?

Her mysteriousness and her appearance are appealing, but I personally think Makima has really good "kindness timing." It's like she can tell Denji the exact words he wants to hear when he wants to hear them. She can see through everything completely, but she also has something mysterious about her that's beyond your reach. She's a character that I'm happy to see, but also a character whose appearance makes me nervous to see what's coming next.

How did you approach playing Makima, and what feelings did you tap into?

Makima doesn't get emotional or agitated, so I wanted to give off the impression, "I don't know what she's thinking, but she seems kind." All the actors in this work use a natural acting style. It's not to the level of narration, but Makima gives off a detached feeling; she suppresses the inflection of her speech. At the same time, I wanted to convey a vague and elusive feeling, like "Oh, was she being nice just now?" I often play young children and I had never played a role like Makima before, so at first I was trying to sound more mature. Director Nakayama and the staff told me that "My performance from my first audition is ideal," and "It's ok not to focus on sounding older," so I started acting more naturally.

How is recording going so far?

I believe I was able to achieve the Makima I was aiming for! My friend wanted me to play Makima, and I had read the original work thinking, "How would I say this line?" so I had a clear idea of the nuances I wanted to portray from the start. I was able to approach that, and even though there were gaps, I was able to try things out many times, so I think I created a Makima I was satisfied with.

What should we pay particular attention to in the early part of the story?

Makima's appearance in the first episode is striking, but my personal favorite is the scene where she tells Denji to say "aaah" at the rest stop. The udon noodles were moving so smoothly (laughs), I was shocked and thought, "This is how it is in anime!" I'd like for you to compare these types of small details to the original work. It's really amazing. It feels like, "This is how the director sees Chainsaw Man."

What was your impression of the original Chainsaw Man manga?

I haven't read a lot of manga since I was a child, and when it was recommended to me, I thought, "Maybe I'll enjoy it too?" but I ended up reading it in one sitting (laughs). The characters are charming, the illustrations are beautiful, and when you're reading it, each panel passes by like a movie. I think it became such a wonderful work because everything works well together. To me, the most appealing thing about it is that it seems like it's easy to understand, but it's not. You keep flipping through the pages, wondering, "What is the true meaning of this line or this scene?" It was like watching a movie, and before I knew it, I had finished reading it.

What are the highlights of the animated version of Chainsaw Man, now that it's finally airing?

We haven't seen the final version yet, but it looks like a lot of effort has been put into it. The battle scenes have a great impact, and even small moments like Makima's "mune dau" are reproduced in minute detail. The real thrill of anime is movement, so I want people to enjoy it thinking, "So this is how they moved in that scene in the original work!"

Do you have a message for the fans?

This is the anime everyone has been waiting for! Everyone's enthusiasm is so strong that Chainsaw Man trends whenever information is released, and the production side is working on it with just as much love. I feel that kind of love as I play Makima. Please look forward to Chainsaw Man, made with everyone's love.

Translation notes:

（笑）indicates laughter, so I translated it as (laughs).

Tomori describes Makima's "優しくしてくるタイミング" (literal, being-kind-timing) as her charm point, which I translated to "kindness timing"

Tomori says Makima "感情変化がなくて" literally meaning her emotions don't change, but I translated this into "doesn't get emotional," which sounds more natural but still conveys the same meaning.

Tomori quotes the staff and director as saying "最初のテープオーディションが理想", literally "first audition tape is ideal," I specified they meant her vocal performance from her first audition tape.

Translated "年齢感" (literal: age-feeling) to "sounding older".

"ムネダウ" is a direct quote from Makima, and I'm pretty sure she is referring to how they animated her saying the quote specifically, so I opted to just leave it romanized and untranslated.

[bokuaosubs]

I’m Eren, who’s left-handed. (Sugiura Eren 1st blog)

Everyone, it’s nice to meet you.

I’m Sugiura Eren from Boku ga Mitakatta Aozora!

Given how this is my first blog, I thought I’d introduce myself, but turns out I don’t really know who I am just yet, so I’ve decided to post a short blog this time.

(Once I finished writing this, I decided to look back on it and… it really isn’t all that interesting….)

Please take a look if you feel inclined to do so.

Name: Sugiura Eren

Age: 15-years-old (I’m a pupil in 3rd year junior high school) Actually, I’m the fourth youngest in the group!

Birthday: 19/06/2008 I like the number 0619 because it’s quite cute lol

↑ Speaking of birthdays、、、 I used to have my photos taken here [in front of the blackboard]!

Did you guys see the introduction video? I danced in the pool while holding a deck brush 🕺 I was very nervous, but in the end, I was happy because it turned out to be a very nice video 🥰 I’ll post some more photos from the MV / intro video shooting sometime in the future!!

Please watch it again and again!

Birthplace: Aichi Prefecture It’s the same as Imai Yuki! I love Aichi! manaca [Nagoya, the capital of Aichi, is said to be in the center of Japan, and, given how ‘manaca’ is derived from the word ‘mannaka’ (center), this word designates Nagoya’s center-like attributes] for life!

Blood type: Type O

Now, allow me to mention my – very carefully selected – favourite anime. They’re Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan) and Sora yori mo Tooi Basho (A Place Further than the Universe).

I had a lot of trouble when coming up with the titles for this one, but I decided on these three, they’re the ones I really like!

Related to that, I also went to the 10th anniversary exhibition of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure that was held in Nagoya a while ago and! I now like Jojo more than ever!

Ah! Speaking of Jojo, there’s this movie currently airing in theatres, called ‘Rohan Kishibe Goes to the Louvre’. It was actually really interesting! I’d like people who’ve never seen Jojo to give it a try, too…!

If you have any recommendations whatsoever for anime, manga, dramas or movies, please let me know 😻

Favourite food: Monjayaki [type of Japanese pan-fried batter], ramen and gyoza.

I can eat these at any time and for every occasion. [They’re] The best 🍜🍜🥟

Eyesight: …Not the best

Things that made me happy recently:

Eating monjayaki with the members

Seeing a film together with the members

And… last but not least… turning 15 years old.

Is this it for now?! What did you think? This has been my self-introduction!

I want you all to get to know me better and better through the course of my activities, so this shall be the end of my self-introduction!

Initially, I was actually going to write about what happened during the second round of the audition, but I feel like this blog would probably become too long, so maybe I’ll write about it next time! Well, it is what it is!

I’ll keep blogging freely like this, so please keep checking it out if you’d like to do so 👀

I’m also thinking that, someday, I would like to answer some of your questions left in the comments of the blog 🌐

So if you have any questions about me, Eren, I’ll be waiting for them!

Thank you for reading all the way to the end!

So long and Arrivederci!

[TL by: yuzuiro]

[ghoulgirlwrites]

Oh Baby, Let Me In

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Era: Bullets

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~2400

Summary/Request: if your requests are still open, would you be able to write a frank iero x reader fic in bullets era and the reader is gerard and mikeys little sister and frank likes her but doesn't want gerard and mikey to find out bc they'd get really mad?? (I hope that makes sense lol)

A/N: So sorry you had to wait so long for this, I hope it’s worth the wait! I got a little carried away with this, but I’m really proud of it. Enjoy!

--

You’d just gotten home from your last class of the day, when your older brother, Mikey, ambushed you.

“You’re coming to band practice later today, right?” He asked.

He and your other brother, Gerard, had started a band called My Chemical Romance with their friend Ray. You thought it was kinda cool, but you didn’t want to give your dorky older brothers too much credit.

“Why? I know what you guys sound like,” you whined.

“Well, we’re adding a guitarist, this really cool guy who does stuff Ray can’t do!” Mikey said.

You sighed. “Alright, fine, I’ll go.”

They’d been renting a practice space a few minutes from your house, so after dinner, you all headed there. Ray was already there, talking to…a really cute guy?

The cute guy in question turned fully towards you when he heard you and your brothers come in. His bright hazel eyes locked onto you and his jaw dropped slightly. You self-consciously tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Frank, this is our sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is our new guitarist, Frank,” Gerard said, gesturing between the two of you.

Frank broke out of his apparent stupor to take your hand in his, shaking it lightly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said.

“You too, Frank,” you said.

“Alright, if you’re done mooning at my sister, can we get started?” Mikey asked, causing you and Frank to blush.

Frank nodded and went over to where a guitar sat in a stand. He picked up the guitar, slinging it around his neck.

Throughout the entire practice, you couldn’t keep your eyes off Frank and it seemed like the same was true for him. He kept his eyes on you pretty much the whole time, even spacing out when someone spoke to him.

When band practice ended, Frank bounced over to you, a grin on his face. “What did you think?”

“You were awesome,” you said. Your cheeks burned as you wondered whether he was asking what you thought about the band as a whole. “I mean…you make my brothers’ band sound halfway decent.” Nice save.

His grin widened, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling. “Thanks! I think I’m a little less nervous now than when I first auditioned.”

You nodded. “That’s good.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re my good luck charm,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You blushed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to come to all our practices and gigs so I don’t suck,” he said.

“You won’t suck,” I said.

He tilted his head to the side. “Will you come anyway?”

“Sure, Frank,” you said.

“Y/N, come on, it’s time to go,” Mikey called.

“I gotta go, they’re my ride home,” you said.

“Kay. Bye, Y/N.” He waved at you.

“Bye, Frank,” you said, returning his wave over your shoulder as you walked away.

You climbed into the backseat of Gerard’s car, which was strewn with art supplies.

“Frank seems nice,” you said.

“He is. But stay away from him,” Gerard said, staring at you through the rearview mirror.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You guys wanted me to meet him so badly, but now you want me to stay away from him? Makes sense.”

“We didn’t think you guys would hit it off,” Mikey said.

“Guys, I’m not twelve, I’m an adult, I’m allowed to flirt with a cute guy if I want to,” you said.

“Yeah, you guys flirt, then date, then he breaks your heart, we break his nose, and then we’re back to looking for a rhythm guitarist,” Gerard deadpanned.

“Well, lucky for you, none of that’s going to happen,” you said.

“If he asks you out, will you say yes?” Gerard asked.

“We just met!”

“Will you?” Mikey probed.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t,” Gerard said.

You groaned, hitting your head against the headrest behind you. There was no getting through to those two. You loved your brothers, really, you did. But they were way too overprotective, especially when it came to you and their friends. It was like they didn’t trust you to hold your own or something. But you’d prove them wrong. If Frank was interested in you, you decided to go for it, and there was nothing Gerard or Mikey could do about it.

--

A week later, MyChem had their first gig with Frank as a member. You’d been to another of their practices, in which Frank flirted with you again, but he was more cautious, as if he too had gotten scolded by your brothers and didn’t want to risk anything. But you couldn’t deny that the forbidden nature of whatever had sprung up between you and Frank made it all the more exciting.

“You nervous?” You asked Frank as he and the others prepared to go onstage.

He grinned. “Not with you here.”

Gerard cleared his throat loudly and you rolled your eyes at him.

The band played an incredible show. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Frank, the way he put everything into his performance. Afterwards, you were hanging out with them outside the venue. It had been warm outside when you’d left the house, so you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket and were now regretting it.

“I’m cold!” You whined.

“Well damn, Y/N, I don’t control the weather,” Mikey said.

“Here, take my jacket,” Frank said softly, shrugging out of his dark blue jean jacket. You’d been admiring it earlier, noticing it was covered in pins. He draped the jacket around your shoulders and you gratefully shoved your hands into the sleeves, ignoring the looks Gerard and Mikey were giving you. The jacket smelled like smoke and coffee.

“I like your tattoo,” you said, brushing your fingers against the anchor above his right elbow. His skin erupted in tiny goosebumps beneath your fingertips.

He bit his lip, looking down at your hand as his cheeks turned red. “Thanks. I’m planning on getting a Black Flag symbol soon. I really like them.”

You felt your eyes light up. “Me too!”

He grinned and looked down again. That was when you noticed that your hand was still on his arm. Worse, Mikey and Gerard had noticed and didn’t look happy. You hastily brought your hand back down to your side, blushing just as red as Frank.

--

A few days later, Gerard and Mikey had dragged you to another band practice, although you were more than happy to tag along this time since it meant you got to see Frank, even though it also meant Gerard and Mikey would be watching you like hawks.

Once again, you were captivated watching Frank play his heart out. It also seemed like he couldn’t keep his eyes off you either. Sometimes you’d catch his gaze, making you both blush and look away momentarily.

After practice was over, everyone was standing around talking. Frank headed towards you, grinning. He brushed past you and you felt his hand near your hip, slipping something into your jacket pocket. You looked up at him and he winked, putting one finger to his lips, which were still curled up in a mischievous smile. He turned to talk to Ray, who was standing a few feet away from you.

You glanced around to make sure Gerard and Mikey weren’t watching, since you weren’t quite sure what Frank had put in your pocket and you had no idea how they’d react if they saw it. Thankfully, they were busy talking to their drummer, so you carefully extracted the object from your pocket.

It was a cassette tape with a note taped to it.

Dear Y/N,

I made you this tape because I really like you, but I knew I couldn’t say anything because Gerard and Mikey are already on me about it, so this is a close substitute. Some of these are songs I know we both like, some are songs I think you’ll enjoy, and some are my own songs that I may or may not have written with you in mind. I hope you like everything!

XOFrnk

You read the track listing he’d written out, finding songs from Thursday, Misfits, and Black Flag, among others. Then there were two songs listed that you weren’t familiar with: All I Want Is Nothing and She’s the Prettiest Girl At the Party and She Can Prove It With a Solid Right Hook. You figured those were the songs Frank had written and it made your heart flutter that he felt comfortable enough to share them with you. You slipped the tape back into your pocket, smiling to yourself, and began counting down the minutes until you could go home and listen to the tape.

Later that night, you put the tape on and lay in your bed while you listened to it, smiling at Frank’s choices. He’d been right, you did like the songs he’d picked with you in mind. Then you got to the songs he’d written. You couldn’t help but nod along, smiling so hard that your cheeks ached a little. You couldn’t believe how sweet his songs were, but you could, because he was a sweet boy. And of course, you knew you liked him too. As the final notes of She’s the Prettiest Girl faded out, leaving you in silence, you resolved to do something to show Frank that his feelings were returned. Who cared what Gerard and Mikey had to say?

--

The band had another gig, so of course, you went along. You could tell Gerard and Mikey were a little suspicious of you, since you didn’t used to be this enthusiastic about the band, but you were past the point of caring. You were also excited because you had a plan to tell Frankie how you felt about him and tonight, you were going to set that plan in motion.

As you all packed into the van to travel to the venue, you slipped Frank a note, much like he’d slipped you the tape. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, but you just smiled and shook your head. The note read, “Don’t go into the venue right away when we get there. I have something to tell you. XO Y/N.” You hoped he’d read it before it was too late and would wait outside for you.

When the van arrived at the club where the gig was at, the others all piled out of the van to help the crew bring in equipment. You pretended to be looking for something in the backpack you’d brought with you and you heard Frank assuring the others he’d be right there, he just needed a smoke. Thankfully, none of the others decided to join him and soon, it was just the two of you.

You hopped out of the van and stood in front of Frank, who was sitting on the hood. Now that you were alone with him, his piercing hazel eyes on you, you were at a loss for words.

Frank sighed. “Look, Y/N, if you’re about to say you don’t see me that way, or that we should just be friends, or something like that, can you just get it over with? This is killing me.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you took a deep breath and crushed your lips to his. He froze for a moment, clearly stunned, but then he returned the kiss, snaking his arms around your waist. You noticed immediately how well the two of you fit together.

Gerard’s voice broke through the haze of the moment. “Hey guys, I was just wondering--what the fuck?!”

You and Frank jolted apart as if electrocuted and immediately turned towards Gerard. One of Frank’s hands still lingered on your hip and you could feel him shaking. You grabbed his hand and held it in yours.

“Frank, what the fuck?” Gerard asked.

“I’m sorry, I--”

Gerard cut him off, his face growing red. “I specifically told you not to go there.”

“I didn’t--” Frank began, but Gerard cut him off again.

“She’s my sister!”

Frank squeezed your hand. “Yes, and she’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.” You glanced at Frank, noticing the fiery look in his eyes.

“She’s also standing right here,” you said.

Frank glanced at you, his eyes wide in fear, as if afraid that he’d overstepped.

You sighed. “Frank, go inside. I’ll handle this.”

He frowned at you, not moving.

“Go!” You said, letting go of his hand.

He glanced between you and Gerard for a moment, a stricken look on his face. But then he seemed to decide it was better to let you deal with Gerard and reluctantly went inside. You and Gerard both watched him go. Once you could no longer see Frank, you turned to Gerard.

“Listen, I really like him and I know he really likes me, but he didn’t wanna act on it because he was afraid of what you’d do to him. Please, just let me have this,” you said.

Gerard sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment, then back up at you. “You’ll let us know if we need to kick his ass?”

You snorted. “I don’t think you could even if I asked, but sure.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Shall we go in and tell Frank he gets to live another day?” You asked.

“Sure,” he said and the two of you went into the club.

You went over to where Ray, Mikey, and Frank were waiting. Frank still looked terrified for his life but you went over to him and took his hand. Mikey glared at the two of you, but you shook your head, glaring back.

“Frank?” Gerard asked.

Frank gulped. “If you’re going to beat me up, can I at least have a ten second head start?”

Gerard chuckled. “I’m not gonna beat you up, it’s fine.”

Mikey raised his eyebrows at Gerard.

“Really?” Mikey and Frank asked in unison.

“Yes, really. I guess if Y/N’s gonna date someone, it may as well be someone we already like,” Gerard said.

“Wait, date?” Ray asked, looking between you, Frank, Gerard, and Mikey. “Jeez, no one tells me anything!”

“Thanks, guys,” Frank said, looking much more relaxed.

“C’mere,” you said, pulling him into you. He eagerly leaned in to kiss you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Okay, throwing up now!” Mikey said.

You ignored him, as everything around you melted away. All you knew was Frank’s arms around you and his lips on yours. And that’s exactly how you wanted it.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[meltwonu]

|     𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒     |     CHAPTER 4

pairing; camboy!seokmin x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; camboy!au, university!au, camboy!seokmin, mentions of breeding!kink / impregnation!kink, dirty talk! 😗💕 A bit of a shorter chapter this week but it’s very seokmin is all I will say LMAO kdhfkdh Also I have a bit of a schedule change for next week but I’ll post a formal notice of that on... either tomorrow or Sunday! As always thanks for your support with ND 🥺💕 I’m trying to write it as if it were really Seokmin trying to cam so it’s a bit experimental and not as quick as the lil blurb I initially wrote 🤣 LOL but! enjoy ch 4 and I’ll see u tomorrow for inbox msgs! Have a good weekend! 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - ?

“To be honest, I’m surprised you went through with paying for my lessons.”

Jihoon runs a hand through his freshly dyed hair; lips curving into a smirk when Seokmin pouts back at him. “And to already schedule our next session and pay for it too? I thought you were strugglin’ for cash? What happened?”

A blush paints across Seokmin’s cheeks as he sits across Jihoon in the slight older male’s studio. He’d, maybe, gotten a little ahead of himself out of excitement and paid for his next lesson as soon as he could and spent the remainder of what he’d made on buying snacks out of the vending machine on the way over.

“Yeeaaaah, I just… Uh, started picking up more shifts at my part-time jobs, is all. No biggie. I really wanted to polish my skills so I could start auditioning for some of the uni’s musicals ‘n stuff. I know we’re doing auditions soon so...” He scratches the nape of his neck shyly and Jihoon catches the way Seokmin avoids his stare.

“Just tell me you’re not dealing drugs for the money… Right?”

“What!? No! I mean, Joshua makes some good money selling weed but no, um, I’m too n-nervous for that… Haha...”

Jihoon narrows his eyes and turns to face his computer once more; tapping on an audio file before relaxing in his computer chair.

He’ll accept Seokmin’s answer for now - even if he is a little suspicious.

“Okay, well, let’s do one more run through and then I’ll let you go for today.”

Seokmin feels like he’s on cloud nine once he leaves Jihoon’s studio and even though he hasn’t done a camshow since the last, he feels a little more confident in his skills.

In both aspects.

Even if he’d been aided by alcohol the last time.

That’s fine, he tells himself, I just need to study what I was saying and just... Refine it. Maybe watch a few more videos and get the hang of it. I’ll be fine!

Which Seokmin finds much more embarrassing than he anticipates when he finally sits down in front of his computer, headphones on and eyes filled with determination when he presses ‘Play’ on the reuploaded audio stream.

‘...I’d cum so much inside of you… ‘n stretch you out so good…’

Christ, did I really sound like that?

‘...I wanna feel your pussy sucking my cock in deeper while I fuck my cum inside you like the filthy ‘lil cocksleeve that you are…’

Seokmin has to pause after a few more minutes; entire body breaking out into a cold sweat as he grimaces. He knew eventually he’d get used to it, but somehow listening to his own voice saying those things made him feel a little awkward.

Maybe he just wouldn’t rewatch them after he was finished.

You’re only three sentences away from finishing your paper when you decide to take a break - back arching away from your computer chair when a notification lights up your phone screen.

‘Dokyeom has gone live!’

‘Curious to see what you like… [AUDIO ONLY]’

Your lips form a surprised ‘o’ shape as you click on the notification and wait for the stream to load up. 

He’d gotten a sudden spike in viewers with his last show but you’d been surprised when he hadn’t messaged you at all, much less done another stream since then. 

Not that he owes me a response, you tell yourself.

“Hey everyone~”

His voice floats through your phone receiver and you feel your heart flutter at the airy, yet deepness of his voice.

You hated to admit it, but you’d rewatched his audio stream from last week a multitude of times and even saved it to your computer just in case he decided to delete it.

Anonymous4987395: what’s with the title?

NewUser89547: ur last vid was so hot omg

Your fingers hover above the keyboard, somewhat nervous about commenting.

“Oh, yeah, I was surprised at how popular it was actually… And it’s still getting viewed too, even though it’s just an audio recording. So thank you! I really appreciate it everyone~”

Anonymous283479: ur voice is sooo good it made me cum so fast…

Anonymous98957: can’t stop thinkin about u breeding me…

“Hmm… Breeding? What’s that?” Dokyeom responds in a drawl that has your toes curling against the floor and you can’t help but bite your lip and quickly type up a response before you change your mind.

b@d_dream: it’s like… getting off to the idea of not wearing a condom and cumming inside someone and the risk of getting them pregnant… or getting pregnant tbh… its like... popular with pet play and stuff 🥴

There’s a long pause on Seokmin’s end as he stares at your comment for a little longer trying to grasp what people wanted to hear from him.

Okay… Let’s see...

“Hmm… Okay~ Of course, my favourite ‘b@d_dream’ is really knowledgeable~ I should thank them for helping me out.” He finishes with a chuckle that sends you squirming in your seat.

“Interesting… I guess I might’ve ignited that interest since my last stream, huh? Me talking about how much I wanted to cum deep inside your pussy… But I bet it’d feel so good to feel me cumming inside you, cock throbbing and fucking you so deep…”

The comments and donations move faster than Seokmin can read or catch up to so he decides to focus on the stream for now before he loses his concentration.

Just 30 minutes and then I can figure out everything else, he tells himself.

Anonymous98756: god ur voice is so hot

Anonymous203948869: just thinkin about u ramming ur cock inside my pussy and fucking me like a bad girl gets me so wet...

Seokmin’s brain fizzles as he sits in his computer chair, mouth going dry when he’s unsure what to say next.

In a panic, he opens a side window and hurriedly pulls up a chat window.

Fuck, I’m so stupid!

Dokyeom: I’m so stupid, please help

b@d_dream: ??

Dokyeom: I don’t know what to say please please help

b@d_dream: lmaoooo about breeding?

Dokyeom: yes im so sorry

“Ah, my cock is so hard just thinking about it… I bet you’re already so wet, aren’t you? I could probably slide my cock right into your pussy right now...”

b@d_dream: mmmmm depends, but just talk about how much u wanna knock someone up? Thats basically it in a nutshell and i dont think u have time for specifics rn

“Mmm… Just thinking about my cum pouring out of your cunt is making me want to cum already…”

Dokyeom: fuck thanks and sorry, i owe u one once this is over i promise

b@d_dream: sure lol btw i can hear u typing so u better go

“Ah, I better cum inside your pretty ‘lil cunt a few times... Just to make sure you get nice ‘n pregnant, right? But you’ll be good and take all my cum, won’t you?”

You lick your lips as you listen to Dokyeom’s soft sighs and breathy moans; too engrossed in appreciating his voice to even get off. 

It’s okay, I’ll just save the video again.

“Hmm... How would I fuck you? Depends, how do you want me to? I can fuck you from behind... Or would you want to see my face when I make you fall apart on my cock? I bet you’d be so pretty when you cum too... Mm, even prettier when you hold me against your body and make sure none of my cum leaks out of your pussy...”

NewUser8439579: oh my god please... 

Anonymous974975: I’d ride u any time I get as long as u keep talking to me... can you say kitten?

“Ah, kitten?”

You feel goosebumps rise on your skin when he repeats it a few times to get used to it.

“Oh, does kitten want me to breed her ‘lil pussy? Mm... it’s just in your instinct to want it, huh? But it’s okay, I’ll give it to you... As many times as you want, kitten~”

Anonymous39847595: fuck I bet ur so hot... 

NewUser934957: omg ikr... 

“Haha, you think so? I get told I look good enough to be a model... Or is that too cocky of me to say? Especially since none of you know how I look~”

b@d_dream: I bet ur hot 😏

“Mm, maybe one day I’ll let you all see... So you can imagine me hovering above you when I fuck you. But only if you’re a good girl, y’know? Bad girls only get fucked from behind while I spank your pretty ass~”

Dokyeom ends his stream after 45 minutes and you rush to your computer to download the replay.

‘1 New Message’

You click on the notification; not surprised when you see it’s Dokyeom.

Dokyeom: I really owe you for earlier, is there anything I can do for you? I can record something for you... Like a private video? 😭 As a thank you. 

b@d_dream: Oh uh you don’t really have to do that if you’re not comfortable, I don’t mind really! 

Your entire body buzzes and you’re unsure what to tell him. You knew that if he recorded a video for you, he might ask for your name and you weren’t too sure if you wanted to give him that just yet.

But you also didn’t want to miss the chance of having a personalized audio recording just for yourself. 

And before you can properly type up a response, Dokyeom beats you to the punch as his messages pop up on the screen.

Dokyeom: Actually I’ll do you one better

Dokyeom: How about we voice chat when you’re free? 30 minutes of your time and maybe you can help me out a bit more? We both gain something, ykwim? I can learn what you like since you’re more knowledgeable than me 😅

Your mouth hangs agape as you stare at his message. 

Now you were really nervous but really excited.

b@d_dream: yeah sure, I'll check my schedule and let you know when I’m free! Don’t forget to bring a notepad 😉 

Dokyeom: Can’t wait!

[burnedbyshoto]

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose. 

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas. 

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

.

..

.

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones. 

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him. 

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too. 

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him. 

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders. 

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation. 

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement. 

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

.

..

.

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped. 

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

.

..

.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be. 

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits. 

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!” 

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined. 

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you. 

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet. 

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees. 

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see. 

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you. 

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room. 

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars. 

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal. 

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas. 

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you. 

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips. 

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you. 

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

[pwarkluv]

❝ what is love? - l.mk ❞

lee mark x reader | fluff | 2k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, idol au, love at first sight au, 6thmemberofitzy!reader, shy!mark and shy!reader, fluff bc that’s what i’m best at LOL, another request :), just enjoy <3

REQUEST | “hii i read ur electric love fic w jisung and i really loved it :DD could you do the same for mark ? still as the 6th member of itzy ofc :D” - my lovely anon <3

SUMMARY | he wonders what is love, but finds the answer in you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “what is love” by twice (english lyrics by genius translations)! ANOTHER REQUEST HDSFKLDSJHF IM SO SO SO SO EXCITED! i wanted to change up the setting so it’s still 6th member itzy, but not in weekly idol :P ALSO this was inspired by when nct dream, itzy, and stray kids sat next to each each other in that one award show so yeah lolol. IM SO SORRY I LOST THE MESSAGE WHERE MY ANON ASKED FOR IT BUT I STILL WROTE IT FOR YOU! I LOVE YOU, THANK YOU, NEVER BE SHY TO DM ME ;)

what is love?

mark knew the general idea of it; the sappy moments movies show, the “butterflies in your stomach” feeling books portray, the pain and hardships songs make you feel. 

but he’s never been in love, at least not like this.

❝ how could it be as sweet as candy? ❞

training at such a young age molded mark into the perfect idol, and with that he was fully aware dating would look bad to the public. he accepted the fact that he might never find love, all to help achieve his dream. 

but as cheesy as it sounds, the canadian wished to be loved. 

yes he was loved by his members, his family, his friends, his fans; but the type of love he longed for was something none of them could give him. 

mark wanted to feel the sweetness of being in love, the giddiness you’d feel whenever you talk to them, the pounding of your heart whenever they’re near. he wanted to experience the overwhelming need to be with that person, like if they’re gone for too long it’s like you can’t breathe.

was being in love like making a song for the very first time? or was it like eating watermelon all the time?

so many questions with no answers, the boy left to wander in his own thoughts. 

❝ how it’s like flying in the sky? ❞

he smiled bittersweetly as the newly wed couple danced around in confetti, the sound of laughter and cheers resonating around the room. one of nct’s managers that had been with them since the beginning invited them to her wedding, to which the team obviously accepted. 

all 23 of them were happy for their noona who found her happy ending. mark could only watch in awe at the sight of the two lovebirds, the love and adoration for the other evident in the way they looked at each other.

his heart tugged a bit knowing he wanted something like that too. 

“being in love is like flying in the sky.” his manager explained to the boy as a makeup artist experimentally brushed strokes on her face. it was a couple hours before the ceremony when mark knocked on her hotel door, wanting to visit his favorite noona before she finally said ‘i do’. 

his question left his mouth before mark could fully register what he was about to say, the poor boy flushing a bit as the woman laughed at him. 

“are you in love mark? is that why you’re asking me how i knew i was in love?” she teased as mark stutterd, denying her accusation.

“n-no i swear!” he said as his manager continued laughing, the makeup artist having to pause a bit to let her get it all out. “i’m just curious.” mark said quietly trying to stop the heat from rushing up to his cheeks. 

“well being in love is a magical feeling.” the woman said, turning a bit serious. mark sat up straight as he listened intently. “when you realize you love someone, it can be a scary thing. love isn’t perfect mark, and i want you to know that. there are moments where you want to scream and rip your hair out, or cry to let it all out.”

the boy nodded in understanding, having a bit of knowledge from all the good breakup songs taylor swift writes about. 

“but it can also change your whole world.” she continued on. “it’s like seeing the world again for the very first time and the colors are more vibrant. it’s like having a permanent reason to be happy, and a reason to stay.” she explained as the mark sat quietly trying to comprehend it all. 

❝ i wanna know know know know, what is love? ❞

the poor boy’s head couldn’t wrap around the thought of you. 

his heart hammered in his chest as he secretly glanced at you, desperately trying to avoid suspicion from fans and his members. you were just too breathtaking, having the canadian looking back for more. 

the moment he first laid eyes on you, it was like an epiphany. you were the answer to all his questions.

so this is what it feels like, mark thinks to himself as he looks back on all the things he’s heard about love. 

the butterflies, the pounding of your heart, the “seeing the world in a whole new perspective”, mark felt everything and as much as he felt excited, he was scared.

as harmless as it sounds, award shows were a risky thing for idols. being surrounded by fans of different groups as well as said groups themselves always seemed to cause a bit of a stir between fans.

between dating rumors and rumors about beef between two idols, anything could happen.

but usually mark would be okay. he’s been doing this for a long time and knew how to behave.

however what he didn’t expect was to see you, the tiny rookie idol from the newly debuted girl group ‘itzy’. 

nct 127’s table was right next to yours which let mark have a clear view of your pretty eye smile as you laughed at something lia had whispered into your ear. your laugh was bubbly and contagious, the boy having to physically stop himself from wanting to laugh too. 

he was panicking, but mark couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way. 

❝ what does love feel like? ❞

your breath hitched as you saw the boy sneak glances at you from the corner of your eye.

the mark lee was looking at you, your heart racing as you tried to deny the fact that he was staring you down. there was no way the dude you’ve looked up to your entire trainee life is noticing you, no way at all.  

everyone has heard of mark lee even if you weren’t into kpop. he was just that iconic. 

you’ve been an nctzen since the very beginning, being there for nct u’s debut stage. in fact, nct was the very reason you decided to audition to become an idol in the first place. you looked up to the team but more importantly you looked up to a certain canadian in the group.

originally doyoung was your bias in nct when nct u first came out. but as the years passed by you found yourself more and more intrigued by mark, having him absolutely wreck your bias list.

since then you’ve been a loyal mark stan, even rapping his part in cherry bomb for your audition tape which ultimately led you to become an idol yourself. 

you refused to believe you were in love with the dude, not knowing a single thing about him. there was no way you could love him, not if you’ve never even met the boy.

but your heart seemed to prove you wrong as it beat wildly knowing mark was sitting right there on the table next to you. 

“you okay bubs?” lia asked in a worried tone, leaning in to whisper into your ear. she saw the way your leg bounced in a fast rhythm, knowing you only did that when you were nervous. 

you forced a smile as you hesitantly looked her way, knowing that she could take one look into your eyes and know you were lying. “i'm fine unnie, don’t worry about me.” you replied as sweetly as you could, wishing the elder wouldn’t notice a thing. 

though you two and yeji were the eldest in the group, all being born in the year 2000, you were the baby of the unnie line. lia and yeji knew you the best, having grown up with you after all. 

the girl only gave you a look before taking your hand in hers to give a soft squeeze. “i know you’re lying but i won’t push you. also mark lee from nct 127 is totally checking you out.” lia said, whispering a bit on the last part. she winked as you flushed, looking away in horror. 

-

johnny nudged the boy next to him with a small smirk, clearly seeing the heart eyes he was giving the girl in the table next to them. mark jumped a bit at the feeling, looking at his hyung with confusion.

“so y/n of itzy?” johnny said with a small smile as the younger immediately sat up straight. 

“is it that obvious?” mark whispered back with a hint of fear in his eyes.

if any of the fans were to get a hold of this… the boy could only shiver at the thought. 

johnny’s playful smile dropped a bit at mark’s worried look knowing how he must feel. they were idols after all.

“don’t worry, i only noticed because she was looking back at you too.” he said, mark flushing at the revelation.

“really?” he asked a little out of it. 

“i say talk to her after this?” the elder said, laughing a bit when mark jumped in his seat, immediately saying no. 

❝ will love come to me someday? ❞

“unnie why are you making me stay in the dressing room~” you whined as the end of the award show came along.

you just wanted to go home, your body worn out. not from all the dancing but from the way it viciously pounded in your chest whenever you ever thought about mark. 

lia only smirked in retaliation as she brought a hand up to squish your cheeks. “trust me, you’ll thank me later.” she said as she walked out of the dressing room, bumping into a 6 foot tall boy with a smaller boy behind him. 

“oops sorry.” she said a little playfully, as lia gave a wink to johnny knowing their plan was going accordingly. johnny only gave her a small smile, but if you looked closely you could see the mischief in his eyes. 

“hyung where are we going?” mark asked, a little weirded out by the two’s interaction. johnny only ignored the boy, dragging him by his arm as they walked down the hallway. 

“hyung i swear if this is a prank i’ll-” mark’s words were cut off as the two entered a door, only to see your confused face staring back at him. 

“oh shit.” he cursed under his breath, a little taken aback from how beautiful you were. one whole award show later and you were still as gorgeous as when he first saw you sitting down in the table next to his. 

your confused face quickly turned to an embarrassed one as you noticed the boy, turning another shade of red when you noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“hi y/n, my name is johnny and this is my band mate mark.” the taller boy said, holding his hand out in a handshake. 

“h-hi i’m y/n.” you stuttered, not expecting to see the boy you’ve been daydreaming about for the past two hours to be right in front of you. 

mark gawked at the sight of you, his mind malfunctioning as the words seemed to get stuck at the tip of his tongue.

“markie right here has something he wants to ask you.” johnny said, pushing the younger in front of him with a grunt. 

this seemed to knock him right out of his trance, a hand coming up to the back of his neck as he stared down at the floor with pink cheeks.

“do you maybe wanna-”

“yes.” you blurted out, a hand covering your mouth in shock. “i-if you were gonna ask if i wanted to hang out sometime, the answer is yes.” you said a little shyly as the boy smiled. 

all this time mark thought he was gonna find love, but maybe love found him instead. 

“i’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow evening.” mark said with a sweet smile as he took a step back only to be pushed back up again by johnny.

“you don’t even have her number you dumbass.” the elder scolded, disappointed at how dumb the boy was. 

your laughter caught both of the boy’s attention as you put your hand out with a small smile. “you want my number or nah?”

[falcqns]

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader, Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: Henry has a crush on you, but you’re dating someone else, and he broods about it. he confronts you about it and ruins his career.

Warnings: swearing, threats, henry is a mega asshole in this and ruins his career, dont know where this idea came from lol

A/N: Bratty!Henry makes a comeback as requested! Hope you enjoy!

Don't blame me for falling

I was just a little boy

Don't blame the drunk calling

Wasn't ready for it all

Henry had been a fan of yours for a while. You had appeared in a few movies and TV shows, and he watched them almost religiously. You hadn’t been acting as long as him, but he firmly believed that you were way better at it than him, He had auditioned for a few of the same projects as you, but he never got the role, for one reason or another. He very vividly remembers watching the Mockingbird movie that you were in, and the feelings of jealousy he got as he watched you kiss your co star, Sebastian Stan. He almost wanted to hate Sebastian, but he had done nothing to him, so he couldn’t. Other than kiss the girl that Henry wanted for himself.

Then, one day, Anya and Freya busted into his trailer with huge smiles on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, petting Kal, and smirking at his friends. They locked eyes with each other and giggled before Freya told him what was going on.

“Y/N got a part on the show!” She squealed, and Henry felt warmth blossom in his chest in hope.

“Shut up. You’re joking!” He said, standing up, a huge smile spreading on his face. “When does she start?”

“Tomorrow!” Anya squealed, and Henry’s smile grew even bigger. He couldn’t wait.

You can't blame me, darling

Not even a little bit

I was away

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

Henry was practically shaking with excitement when he woke up the next morning. He wanted nothing more than to rush to set to meet you, but he needed to go for a run, eat, and get himself and Kal ready before he could do that.

40 minutes later, he was ready and was practically speeding to set with Kal in the passenger seat of his car. Kal had his head out the window, his mouth open, biting at the wind. Henry glanced over at him and chuckled. His stomach was feeling the same way.

He arrived moments later, and looked around the parking lot for your vehicle. He didn’t know what type of car your drive, but he noticed a black Dodge Ram 1500 that he hadn’t seen before today, so he had to assume that was yours. His eyes were darting everywhere, looking for you, while walking to his trailer. He dropped Kal off in his trailer, and filled up his food and water bowl before he left for the makeup trailer.

He walked out of his trailer, and that’s when he saw you. You were standing outside your trailer, which was opposite of his. Your hair and makeup was done, and you were talking on the phone. Suddenly, he was feeling very nervous, as you hung up the phone and your eyes landed on him. You waved at him, and the butterflies in his stomach grew as he walked over to meet you.

“Hi!” You said.

“Hi! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long,” HEnry said as he gazed into your E/C eyes. You blushed and he opened his arms for a hug, which you willingly gave.

“Me too!” You said, and the two of you continued talking until your phone rang again. Henry glanced down briefly and his heart dropped into his stomach at what he saw. It was a picture of you and Sebastian kissing, and there was a heart next to Seb’s name.

“Sorry, that’s my boyfriend, but I’ll talk to you on set, okay?” You said, and Henry nodded with a smile, an attempt to cover what he was truly feeling.

“Of course.” You nodded, and walked away with the phone held up to your ear.

“Hey, baby...” You said into the phone, not noticing how Henry turned his back, and walked towards his trailer.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry managed to hide the hurt he was feeling for a few days, but Anya and Freya first noticed something was wrong when Henry walked away from the three of you while you were telling them how Sebastian was trying to impress you once, and ended up falling down his trailer steps. Henry had made it to his trailer before breaking down. Kal bounded over to him, and pressed his body against his legs. Henry sunk to the floor, and let Kal rest his head on his shoulder. He let out a whine at Henry’s crying, and henry calmed down. He didn’t want to upset the one thing that makes him insanely happy. It was you, but you were taken. he couldn’t think about you liked that anymore, no matter how much he wanted to.

Anya came into his trailer a few minutes later, and sat next to him, her hand resting on his arm.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Henry lifted his head to look at Anya. “I like her. So much. But, she’s out there dating that asshole.”

Anya let out a laugh, and Henry looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“Sebastian isn’t an asshole. Just because he got her before you did, you’re going to make him look like the bad guy in this situation? First of all, there is no bad guy in the situation. She’s happy with him. He’s happy with her. If you’d sit and listen to the way she talks about him, you’d understand that. He has done things for her that I’ve never heard of anyone doing for their significant others, especially those who dont care about said significant others. When they were filming together, she really missed her best friend, so he flew her out for her birthday, and paid for them to spend the weekend at Disney World together. He’s a really nice guy, but you’re going to sit here and brood simply because he met her first. Dont blame him, and dont you dare blame her.” Anya said, before giving Kal a pet, and walking out of the trailer.

Henry glared at the wall opposite him for a few minutes, before pulling his phone out and going to instagram. He looked at his notifications, and scoffed in annoyance when he saw that Sebastian followed him. Without thinking, he clicked on the three dots, and blocked him.

You might be taken, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to be okay with it. He stood up, wiped his eyes, and headed back to set. He made a point to keep his eyes glued to his phone so he didn’t have to talk to you.

He shouldn’t be blaming you for this, but the jealous side of him told him to, since he couldn’t blame Sebastian.

I just hope you see me in a little better light

Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?

'Cause I miss the shape of your lips

You'll win, it's just a trick

And this is it, so I'm sorry

You noticed Henry’s demeanour towards you go down over the course of your first week, and you were scouring your brain to figure out why while on FaceTime with Sebastian.

“I don’t know what I did to him. He barely speaks to me, he refuses to be alone with me, and if I even mention something about Marvel or our movie, he scoffs, and makes snide little remarks. He seemed like such a nice a person, and i dont know what happened.” You explained to Sebastian, while playing with your fingers.

“I don’t know, either love. I did notice that he blocked me though. I tried to follow him earlier in the week, and now I can’t even find his account, so I think he blocked me. I don’t think it has anything to do with you,” He said, giving you a sincere smile, that was full of love. You smiled at the sight of his steel blue eyes.

“Why would he hate you though? You’ve never met, and I thought he was a Marvel fan. Anya told me he was, and that he went to see Mockingbird in theatres. It doesn’t make sense.” You said. You watched as something washed over Sebastians face, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“He might like you. I never even thought about that. He’s friends with Chris, I’ll find out for sure,” Seb said, picking up his phone and typing out a message to Chris.

“You think he like me?” You questioned, and Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, i think he does. I mean, he follows you on all your socials, comments on all your posts, he went and saw a Marvel movie by himself, and I’ve heard from a few people he’s been wanting to work with you for a while, but scheduling always got in the way. To me, its the only logical explanation right now.” He said, and you saw his face fall a little.

You smiled. “Baby, look at me,” His head lifted. “You know, even if this is true, I would never leave you, right?” He nodded.

“I know. It’s just- he’s played Superman. An actual superhero. I play a troubled 100 year old with a metal arm that he got through a debt owed to Steve by T’Challa. He’s played so many more influential roles in his career, and I haven’t even gotten the lead in a ‘superhero’ movie, I’m only a side character. And, I know you had a crush on him at one point. Plus, look at the dude! He looks like a Greek God. I don’t want to lose you.” Sebastian admitted.

You giggled slightly. “Baby, I don’t care about that. I care about you. Did you know that before I started on the Mockingbird set, I was terrified to work with you? I had the biggest crush on you, and I was terrified you wouldn’t like me back, but I was proven wrong instantly, when you came up to me and gave me the biggest hug, and told me if I needed anything, you were there for me. You waited for me on set so you could walk me to my car, even on days where you got to go before I did. You visited me when I was sick, and asked to hang out on our days off. You did that. He didn’t. I love you, not him, dragă.” You said, and he smiled. He locked eyes with you through the screen, and you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Te iubesc atat de mult,” He said in Romanian.

“Si eu te iubesc foarte mult.” You responded. “I’ll see you when your plane lands tomorrow, okay? It’s getting pretty late there, and your flights in a few hours.”

You and Seb said good night, and hung up. As you laid in bed a few minutes later, you thought to yourself. “Did Henry really like you, or was that just Seb’s jealousy?” You decided to confront Henry in the morning.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

You arrived at the door of Henry’s trailer less that 12 hours later, and you didn’t bother knocking. The thought of bringing Seb on set when Henry had a problem with him didn’t sit right with you, and you needed to figure out what the fuck was going on.

You walked in, and saw Henry putting food and water in Kal’s bowls. He looked up at you before returning to what he was doing.

“What’s your problem with Sebastian?” You demanded, and to your anger, you got a scoff in return.

“Who says I have a problem with him?” He said, refusing to even look at you. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket but you ignored it for the moment.

“Seb! You blocked him on Instagram when he followed you. You roll your eyes whenever I talk about him, and get all pissed when he calls me. He’s done NOTHING to you! So what is your problem with him?” You demanded, and he finally turned around to look a you.

“He calls and texts you constantly! He always has to be talking to you. You’re here to do a job, not sit around and text your little boyfriend.” He said, and you laughed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I do my job perfectly well, and if you’d open your fucking eyes for two seconds, you’d see that I text him first! I tell him when I’m doing a scene, and when I’m not so he knows he can call me! Being in a long distance relationship is hard, and I’m trying to make it easier on him and I. And you say I’m here to do a job. Right now, I cant think of a SINGLE reason why I even took this job in the first place! Oh wait, I TOOK IT BECAUSE I WANTED TO WORK WITH YOU! Did you know I had an offer from Tom Cruise for The Mummy sequel and I turned it down because I wanted to work with you? I could be in Egypt right now, in shorts and a t shirt with Tom Cruise and Annabelle Wallis, my favourite actress, rather than in dreary fucking England, doing a show with you where you treat me worse than the horse shit that Zeus leaves in his path!” You screamed at him. His face became red, and he retaliated.

“FINE, YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I HATE HIM? BECAUSE HE HAD YOU FIRST! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO WORK WITH YOU FOR YEARS, BECAUSE I HAVE HAD THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON YOU, SINCE YOU APPEARED IN MURDOCH MYSTERIES! I WAS SO EXCITED TO BE ABLE TO WORK WITH YOU, AND I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU OUT, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND SLEEP WITH THE FIRST A LIST ACTOR YOU COULD GET YOUR HANDS ON WHO PROBABLY DOESN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU! YOU DON’T WANNA BE HERE? LEAVE! I’M SURE TOM WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOU! HE PROBABLY WROTE THAT PART SPECIFICALLY FOR YOU, BECAUSE WHY WOUDN’T HE? YOU SEEM TO GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT SO WHY DON’T YOU JUST TAKE IT, AND GET OUT OF ENGLAND BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART EVEN MORE!” He screamed.

You blinked back tears, and swallowed the lump in your throat before answering. “You don’t get to hate him because he got me before you did. That’s cruel and wrong. And I didn’t sleep with the ‘first A List celebrity i could get my hands on’. I slept with him because I love him, and he loves me. And you’re right,” You felt the tears spill over, and you did nothing to stop them. “I’m sure Tom will be happy to have me, because I quit. I cannot work with you. You are not the person I thought you were at all.” Your turned to walk out the door.

“And to think that I used to have a crush on you too,” You remarked before letting the trailer door slam.

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

You ran down the stairs and was immediately embraced by Sebastian, who had just arrived on set when he heard your and Henry’s screaming match.

“It’s okay,” He whispered into your ear, as you started sobbing. At that precise moment, Henry walked out of his trailer and opened his mouth to speak. Sebastian held up his hand before he could.

“I think you’ve done enough damage, Cavill. I’m not going to allow you to hurt her anymore. I can’t believe, that you, out of all people, would treat her like this simply because she’s dating someone else. You may play Superman, but you definitely don’t deserve it.” He remarked, and led out away. But, Henry being Henry, decided to snark back.

“You’re one to talk. You play a 106 year old Hydra assassin who somehow managed to convince everyone around him that his a good guy. You’re no worse than I am buddy.”

“Go to your trailer, I’ll see you in a second.” You nodded and headed in. While he dealt with Henry, you called Tom to let him know you could take the role after all.

“I don’t know why you think that you can treat my girlfriend like that, but it’s not okay. You should have seen the amount of research she did for this role! She read every single book, and played every single game in preparation for this role. She was so excited, and turned down the chance to work with her favourite actress to work with you. Not many people would do that. I also dont know what I did to warrant you absolutely hating my guts, other than dating her. I’ve done nothing to you, and even if I did, that doesn’t mean you can treat my girlfriend like shit for it. I’d watch your fucking back, because unlike you, she’s a Marvel actor. The majority of her friends are Marvel too, so don’t be surprised if you get a few nasty messages from certain Avengers, because I will not withhold this information.”

Sebastian walked in to your trailer and found you on the phone to Lauren, apologizing. You hung up a few seconds later and turned to Sebastian.

“She mad at you?” Sebastian asked, and you shook your head.

“No. She understands. She says that she’s sorry that he acted that way, and that she’ll be talking to him. I called Tom and I have the role. I fly to Egypt in two months.” You said, packing up your things. Seb nodded, and moved from where he was to help you.

You took off your costume, and took your hair out. Sebastian took your duffel bag with all your things, and the two of you headed out. Thankfully, you didn’t see Anya of Freya, you weren’t in the right space mentally to explain what happened. All you wanted to do right now was get as far away from Henry as possible.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry sat in his car after getting yelled at by Lauren, Anya, Freya, Joey, and the director, staring at the tree just outside his windshield. He let his emotions get the best of him, and now filming was suspended until they could find a replacement for you. No one was mad at you, no one blamed you. Not even him. He’s the one that fucked up, he’s the one paying the price.

He dug his phone out of his bag, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he had a whole bunch of unread messages. He filtered through all the threats that your Marvel friends had sent them.

Chris: you are unbelievable. i cannot believe you treated her like that. my first impression of you being a complete and utter dickhead was true. i can’t believe i was ever friends with you.

Anthony Mackie: for Superman, you’ve done some serious damage. and that’s saying something. i’d be amazed if this didn’t ruin your career completely. you dont get to sit there all high and mighty simply because you’re ‘heart broken.’ none of us are going to keep this quiet.

Scarlett Johansson: count your days cavill. never thought you’d be the type to make a girl cry.

Elizabeth Olsen: congrats on ruining your career. if you even come near Y/N again, we’ll do much worse than ruin your career. believe me.

He threw his head back against the seat. They wouldn’t take it to social media, would they? He thought as he clicked on his instagram app.

The first thing he saw was a post from Robert Downey Jr explaining what had happened.

He’d fucked up bad, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

[floralcyanide]

The Extra || Austin Butler x OC

Epilogue

Pairing: Austin Butler x OC

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 784

>> sorry the epilogue took so long and I'm sorry it's so short! but I decided to go ahead and wrap up this story after a long 8 months! I can't believe it's been that long lol. but here's the scene everyone has been waiting for (I think) (: <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Add yourself to the taglist HERE

June 2022

I’m standing in the mirror, patting the middle section of my dress down flat against my stomach for the umpteenth time. I’m so nervous that I keep checking and double-checking every single inch of myself over and over. I keep telling myself that everything will be fine and everything will go smoothly. I thought auditioning for the role of Maddie Munson was nerve-wracking, but I got the part. So, I can most definitely do this too. 

“Ready?” Jess knocks on the door, eyeing me up and down with a giant smile on their face.

“I think so,” I say quietly, biting my lip nervously.

“You’ve got this, Ro. It’s okay to be scared, but you’ve always wanted this,” Jess says, motioning for me to come outside into the hall.

“You’re right. I can’t believe this is finally happening,” I say giddily, walking through the doorway and past Jess.

We both head down the stairs, where my mother, other best friends, and grandfather are waiting for me. I resist anxiously playing with my precisely curled hair, folding my hands before me. My mother smiles at me as my friends file out of the small farmhouse and into the courtyard one by one, along with Austin’s best friends. My grandfather loops his arm with mine as I adjust the veil upon my head, letting it fall over my face. Here Comes the Bride begins to play as we walk out of the house and into a small walkway full of flower petals. It’s a mild summer day, and the flowers in the courtyard are fully bloomed and stunning. I move my eyes from them and to the alter where Austin is standing, where he appears to be holding back tears. He’s good at hiding it from everyone except me. I always know. I smile at him, fighting back my own. I clutch my grandfather’s arm as we get closer to the altar. I was ready but still terrified.

“Hi,” Austin says meekly as I approach him, the largest smile on his face.

“Hi,” I say back, grinning as my grandfather lets go of my arm.

I’m so lost in Austin that I almost completely drown out what the pastor is saying. He seems to be the same way, not really paying full attention. It isn’t until we’re prompted to read our vows that we zone back in. Austin goes first, pulling a piece of paper from the inside of his tux. He grabs my hand, holding it to his chest.

“Ro, when we met, we were young and stubborn. We didn’t know what we wanted for certain, but now we do. And I’m glad we get to share that together for the rest of our lives. Being with you over all these years has been the best thing to happen to me. All the roles and fame mean nothing without you because I wouldn’t have gotten here without you. I love you so much. It’s you. It’s always been you. It will always be you. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

I bite my lip to hold back the tears welling in my eyes and tighten my grip on Austin’s hand as I search for the words I’ve been memorizing for weeks.

“Leaving you was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but I found my way back to you. I always do, no matter what. We'll always be together no matter how far we may be from each other. You’ll always be with me. I’ve always pictured my life with you, and I’ve been waiting for this very moment for so long. I’m so glad I’m marrying you. Despite everything we’ve been through, you’re the greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

Austin pulls my hand to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles as the pastor resumes his speech. The ring bearer and flower girl come up to us with our rings, scurrying off just as quickly as they came while giggling. We accept them and slowly slide the rings onto each other’s fingers. Austin and I repeat the pastor’s words, promising to love each other no matter what and symbolizing that promise with these rings. 

“And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for, you may now kiss the bride!”

Austin lifts the long white veil from my face, pushing it over my head as he leans in, softly pressing his lips to mine. His hands are firmly planted on my waist as I kiss back, pure bliss filling my chest. Everyone claps and cheers, and we eventually pull apart, smiling. Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt. Everything was as it was supposed to be, and I couldn’t be happier.

taglist:

@anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @alltheflowerstomav @tubble-wubble @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @cece05 @poppet05 @every-dayiwakeup  @whore-for-hewitt @butlerslut @rosepresley @fangirl125reader

[storiesforallfandoms]

first show ~ aaron tveit

word count: 1756

request?: yes!

“I'll take anything Aaron Tveit. (There are not enough fics out there lol)”

description: after years of practice and studying, she gets casted in her first big broadway show, and finds herself falling for her leading man

pairing: aaron tveit x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

I gasped as the costume person pulled out the beautiful black dress I was meant to wear for our run through of Come What May. I couldn’t get over how beautiful my costumes were. I almost felt like I was undeserving of them. I was fresh out of college and already cast in my first big Broadway musical. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to ever wake up.

“You don’t have long to get dressed,” the costume person reminded me. “The dress rehearsal for Come What May is in 10. Although I’d love to see you staring at all your costumes in amazement.”

“I’ll do that after dress rehearsal,” I joked.

I took the black dress and quickly changed into it, longing to look at myself in the mirror but knowing I had no time. With my hair and makeup already finished, I rushed to the stage. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one running a bit late as my co-star was yet to arrive once I took my place.

“There’s our Satine!” the director proclaimed as I stood on stage. “Welcome to the stage, dear. How do you feel?”

“Nervous,” I admitted. “But I look damn good for a nervous girl.”

The director chuckled. “Our Christian should be here soon.”

“He’s here!”

I tried not to seem as starstruck as I felt at the sound of my co-star’s voice. Aaron joined me on stage, dressed in his Christian costume. I had to try my best not to fangirl over him. He was basically Broadway royalty, and I was acting with him in my first show! I had to remind myself how to breathe.

I smiled slightly at him. “Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N). I’m Aaron.”

I had to stop myself from responded with I know as I shook his hand.

“While I’d love for you two to get to know one another, I’d like to run Come What May first,” the director told us. “It’s one of the biggest songs in the musical, and the one with the most chemistry. So, we need to nail this song before we can nail the entire musical.”

Aaron and I nodded and took our places for the song. The band started playing the song and I felt my nerves growing. I tried to focus just on Aaron, but that made me even more nervous.

“Never knew I could feel like this Like I’ve never seen the sky before Want to vanish inside your kiss Every day I love you more and more”

No shock that his voice sounded perfect. I already knew this, I had seen the show on its opening night years before. But it was different to hear the voice up close, too have him singing directly to me. It made my heart flutter and I almost forgot my cues.

“Come what may Come what may I will love you until my dying day”

For a moment I feared my voice wouldn’t work, but when I opened my mouth the words came out effortlessly.

“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace”

I tried not to break character as pride swelled within me at the look on Aaron’s face. I could only describe it as a look of astonishment, as if my voice shocked him, and that made me so proud.

My heart spiked as Aaron took my hands and we sang together

“Storm clouds my gather And stars may collide But I love you (I love you) Until the end of time”

The music swelled as we reached the end of the song, our voices mixing together perfectly as we held the last line. I looked into Aaron’s perfectly blue eyes, glad that the song had ended because he had taken my breath away.

I had forgotten all about the small audience of crew members and our director until he spoke. “That was great! But can we take it from that last chorus and can you guys end the song with the kiss?”

“O-Oh,” I stuttered, still trying to recover from the song. “Y-You want to do the kiss now?”

“It’s better to get the first one out of the way now to get past any initial awkwardness.”

“Are you okay with that?” Aaron asked me, concern on his face.

I nodded. “Yeah. He has a point, we will be kissing almost every night. We should get used to it now.”

The director motioned to the band and they began playing from the last chorus again.

“Come what may Come what may I will love you until my dying day”

I looked into Aaron’s eyes, the only thing keeping me calm in that moment. One of his hands reached up to gently cup my face, bringing me closer to him. The distance between us was small, but it felt like I was waiting for his lips to touch mine forever.

When they finally did, it felt as though something had exploded inside of me. My whole body felt warm and fuzzy, and my stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. I couldn’t stop myself from putting a hand behind his neck, wanting to keep his lips on mine for a long time.

We were forced to pull away when the director began to clap, completely taking us out of the moment.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaimed. “That was brilliant! See? Now there’ll be no awkwardness when we run that scene from now on.”

I wouldn’t say that, I thought, glancing over at Aaron. I wondered if he had felt what I did, or if it was just another stage kiss for him. If he felt the latter, it would definitely be very awkward for me.

“Okay, you two take five and then (Y/N), I want you ready for your entrance medley.”

The crew continued on about their work while the director turned his attention to his assistant and began talking about the technical stuff having to do with the show. Aaron and I awkwardly stood on stage together for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“I guess I should go get ready for my entrance rehearsal,” I said, trying my best to look at Aaron. How the hell did two actors who weren’t already in relationships kiss on stage and not fall in love?

“I’ll walk you to your dressing room,” Aaron offered. “We can get to know one another.”

I smiled at this and the two of us exited the stage together.

“So,” Aaron started, “there’s a rumor on the streets that this is your first ever show.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is. I’m actually not long out of college. I graduated maybe a month ago? Top of my classes because I was always an overachiever, and most of my teacher’s favorites. Actually, it was one of my teachers that got me this audition. She knows the director and when it was announced that Karen Olivo was leaving the show, she urged me to audition.”

“Looks like it worked out in your favor.”

“Yeah, somehow,” I said with a slight laugh. “I’m sure there were dozens of better, more experienced girls who auditioned. My teacher must’ve slipped the director a bribe or something to get me this role.”

“Or, and hear me out on this one, you were actually that good and got the role on your own.”

I shook my head. “No way. That’s nearly impossible.”

“Nearly being the keyword. Newbies gotta start somehow or else Broadway shows would never have a cast.”

“Yeah, but most newbies start as a part of the ensemble or the company, then make their way to very minor character, then less than minor character, and then, if they’re lucky, they become main characters. It’s not as easy as auditioning fresh out of school and getting the role right away.”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s that easy for some people. You have a fantastic voice, definitely a voice worth of a Satine and not just an ensemble girl.”

I smiled up at Aaron. “I appreciate the compliment, and the confidence you have in me. I hope I don’t let any of you guys down.”

“I don’t think you will. I think you’re going to be amazing. You’ll probably steal the show from me.”

I laughed at this. There was absolutely no way that I, a newbie, could possibly steal the show from a Broadway vet like Aaron Tveit.

I was sad when we reached my dressing room, although I knew it wasn’t that far of a walk from the stage. I wanted to talk to Aaron for longer, to have more time alone with him. But we were trying to prepare a show, and that meant that eventually I had to give up my time with him in order to rehearse.

Both of us paused outside of my dressing room. It was almost like we were waiting for the other to leave first. I glanced at the clock in my dressing room and sighed upon seeing the time.

“I have about two more minutes to get into my costume for my entrance medley and to get back to the stage. So, I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

“Well, only for now. I’ll be in the audience watching you absolutely destroy that medley, and then we have basically the entire play together that we have to rehearse,” he told me. “But, if you’re not too tired after rehearsal, I’d love to maybe go out and grab a drink with you. If you’d be interested in doing that, that is.”

Now was when my voice stopped working. I could barley believe that this was actually happening. Too many amazing things going on the one time, I was sure I was dreaming. I had to slip my hands behind my back to pinch myself, and I had to suppress a yelp as I realized I was very much awake.

“Yeah,” I finally managed. “I’d love to.”

Aaron’s smile was as wide as a child on Christmas morning. “Okay! Well, I won’t distract you any longer. Break a leg out there.”

I watched after him as he went back in the direction of the stage before hurrying into my dressing room to prepare for my next scene. The entire time I had a smile on my face so wide that my cheeks were starting to hurt.

I guess dreams really do come true.

[alloftheimaginess]

Wired Autocomplete

Other parts

Jared Padalecki

Alexander Calvert

Jensen Ackles

Ys = Your sign aka your zodiac sign

Bd = Birthday

Ht = Hometown

Sn = Sister’s name

Yh = Your height

"Hi I'm Yn Collins and this is my Wired autocomplete interview" I say smiling and I get thrown a card and I hold it up.

"Is Yn Collins" I say pausing.

"Dumb?" I say laughing and I pull the first one back.

"Is Yn Collins going to comic con" I read and I look up.

"Actually yes I am you can catch me there everyday, I'll be at the Supernatural panel when I'm not at my own so if you weren't able to meet me at mine you might be lucky and meet me at my husbands" I say looking back at the board.

"Is Yn Collins" I read pulling it back "adopted" I say looking up and I nod.

"I get this a lot so I'll explain here so people can continue to ask later down the road" I say laughing

"So my parents split up when I was 4 and my dad remarried my stepmom and she adopted me like made me legally hers and then my dad divorced her and went to jail so then I stayed with her and she remarried and she's legally my mom because she adopted me and her husband who I consider my only father is her husband" I say laughing explaining it the best I can.

"Is Yn Collins a" I say and I pull it back "a Ys" I read.

"Yes I am. I was born Bd" I say moving on, making it the shortest response.

"Is Yn Collins" I read and I start laughing "these make me nervous" I say laughing "Volt. Oh yeah, it's a character that I play in the marvel franchise. She started off bad but not really bad just misunderstood" I say nodding and I pull back the last one.

"Why is Yn Collins famous" I read "It all happened when I decided to audition when I was 7 and my husband" I say smirking "I'm just kidding not because of him" I say throwing the card getting another one.

"Where did Yn Collins" I read pulling it back "grow up" I read "I grew up in a million places lol, my dad was in the military so we moved often. I can name 9 places I lived. But before all that I grew up in H/t" I say.

"Who are Yn Collins siblings" I read. "I know you guys only googled this to see if Lily Collins would pop up which she didn't, we played adopted siblings in a movie and because of our chemistry and names everyone assumed we were actually siblings. But to answer this question I'm the oldest of four who's last names aren't Collins because that's my husbands last name" I say laughing, pulling the last one.

"Was Yn Collins" I read pulling it back "on glee" I read laughing.

"I also get this question often. That was my little sister Sn, we look super similar so at one point everyone struggled to tell us apart but yes she was the one on glee not me" I say.

"Does Yn Collins sing" I read "yes all the time. Who doesn't sing" I say laughing.

"Honestly at this point in my life I never stop singing" I say looking up at the camera.

"Misha tells me to shut up all time, I'm a nervous singer so when I'm anxious or nervous I hum, sing all of that" I say laughing.

"Did Yn Collins and Chris Evans date" I read "no, we just hang out like a lot. We've been making movies together since I was like 14 so he's just my best friend" I say laughing playing with the last cover.

"Did Yn Collins get married" I read laughing. "Yes that's why I'm called Collins" I answer. "Is this actually a question people google enough for it to pop up?" I ask shaking my head. "But yes I did my husband is Misha Collins. He's this really hot guy who plays an angel named Castiel on supernatural" I say pointing to the camera.

I throw the card and I catch the one that gets thrown to me and the first one has my avengers character name on it and I laugh. "Who is Audrey Patterson aka volt" I read "Aubrey Patterson is a woman who grew up in the south until she got her powers when she was just a wee tween and she was shipped away to live with her grandparents in New York" I say looking at the card.

"Is Aubrey Patterson and Sam Wilson friends in real life" I read "Mackie is my guy, when I first came onto the Captain America scene he was the first person who I hadn't met before to welcome me with opened arms" I say.

"Is Aubrey Patterson" I read and when I pull the tab back it pulls off the words "I guess we'll never know" I say laughing.

"Is Aubrey Patterson the youngest in the Captain America movies" I read "yes I am" I say laughing and I toss the board to the side.

"I'm almost done and I'm sad, I never want this to end I want to answer google questions all day" I say grabbing the board "can Yn Collins speak any other languages" I read.

"Three and a half" I say.

"Can you say something in all of the languages you know?"

"Yeah of course" I say nodding.

"Bonjour je suis avec câblé aujourd'hui" I say.

"Ik zal je vragen beantwoorden" I say raising a brow trying to see if I said that right.

"Don't come after me Dutch fans I'm sorry I'm still learning it's the half language I know" I say.

"Ich bin buchstäblich ein offenes Buch" I say smiling at the camera.

"Začnime" I say.

"What did you just say?" He asks.

"I said hello I'm with wired today and I will answer all of your questions, I'm an open book so let's begin" I say holding the bird back up.

"Is Yn Collins one of the best actresses of our generation" I read "literally I don't even know if I can properly answer that because naturally I'm going to say no because I work with a lot of amazing women so no" I say moving on.

"Who does Yn Collins look like?" I read "hmm, my sister like I said, my ten year old but she looks more like Misha than she looks like me but that counts. But definitely my eight year old son, he looks dead on me and my twins" I say smiling at the camera.

"What are Yn and Misha Collins" I read pulling it back. "kids names" I say.

"My oldest is Elodie, my second oldest is named after his dad so Dmitri, then the twins Maren and Mavis and then my youngest Farren" I say smiling at the camera because any time I can talk about my kids I'm in heaven.

"Is Yn Collins an alumna" I read "yes I am, I graduated from New York school of arts" I say.

"How tall is Yn Collins" I read "good question" I say laughing "I want to say about Y/H, in that area, just about" I say looking at the next one.

"How did Yn meet Misha" I read "aww" I say smiling "I love talking it about this a lot more than I actually should" I say.

"The year was 2009 and I was at comic con for Avatar" I say.

"He was there for his first comic con ever and we were next door neighbors and I got locked out of my room and my purse and everything were in there and I couldn't get a copy of my room key without my identification so I knocked on his door and the most attractive man I've ever seen opens the door in just a towel and I'm like lost for words at first and then he let's me in and enter through his room and we talked and hung out that whole weekend and 9 months I had Elodie" I say giggling.

"How long have Yn and Misha Collins been married" I read "nine years, we got married after Elodie turned one. Almost ten years" I say smiling at the camera.

"Is Alex Calvert Yn and Misha's kid?" I read laughing.

"How old do you guys think I am?" I ask laughing even harder.

"Also that would make no sense for obvious reasons but to answer your question no Alex is not either of our kid, separate, together, adopted" I say giggling.

"His wife is actually one of Misha and I's best friends, we've known her since she was like 14" I say.

"She actually named their first kid after Misha and he let's that go to his head because he has two people named after him" I say laughing.

"Is Yn Collins closer to Jared or Jensen's wife" I read.

"I'm super close to both and I love them to pieces but I do hang out with Jensen's wife more, we always go to lunch whenever we're together, and we always ride with each other to the airport when Jensen and Misha fly in together so I guess I'll just say her because we hang out more" I say shrugging.

"But like I said I love them both so much and equally" I say.

"Is Yn Collins pregnant" I read and I start laughing "you guys are good. But yes I am, 20 weeks today. We just announced it before I came in today so" I say throwing the card.

"I'm Yn Collins and this has been my Wired autocomplete Interview" I say smiling at the camera and blowing a kiss.

[knickynoo]

Do you have any thoughts on Marty and his self esteem issues? In most of the trilogy, I feel like Marty ranges from experience a lot of insecurity at best, to like a considerable amount of self loathing at worst, (like pls Marty, Doc getting struck by lighting was not your fault? You’re not Thor?) . And there’s the whole chicken thing, so I was curious if you had any thoughts on where it stems from, how it’s affected him etc etc? Okay lmao that’s it, have a great day !!

Hello! Do I have thoughts?? Yes. I do.

So, one of the things I like so much about Marty as a character is that...he's kind of an enigma of sorts? Like. Here's this kid who skateboards, rocks that denim jacket and the cool sunglasses, plays guitar, has a pretty girlfriend, etc. You take all of that, and it should reflect a really confident, popular person. I mean, with all the stereotypical "cool guy" attributes considered, Marty should have Ferris Bueller-level confidence and charm. He should be strutting around, smooth-talking everyone, laughing in the face of danger, and possessing unshakeable self-esteem. But he does/has none of those things because, as we all know, Marty is A Mess (affectionate). And yeah, a lot of it seems to stem from self-esteem issues, which we do see sprinkled throughout the trilogy. Where's it all coming from? Well, a lot of places, most likely...

• FAMILY: Probably the biggest factor. Though I'm sure George and Lorraine were sincerely in love for a while at the beginning of their relationship/marriage, I think it's fair to assume that any real spark between them had pretty much fizzled out by the time Marty came along or when he was a young kid. Take a loveless relationship between a meek, subservient man and a woman who drinks away her feelings, factor in a 17-year-old boy who's probably never had any real semblance of parental stability in his house, and it's highly likely that kid is going to have some issues. It's really difficult to believe in yourself & feel secure when the norm is having parents who are wrapped up in their own worlds/rarely interact with each other, seeing your father get emotionally (& physically!) pushed around by his supervisor, and watching your mom cling to alcohol and sink into depression.

• Plus, there are the separate relationships George and Lorraine have with Marty. Granted, we don't see much of it, but what we see at dinner is probably a good example of a typical interaction. George is quick to steer Marty away from any situation where he may face rejection or hardship. And yeah, he may think he's protecting his son, but this strategy is actually pretty harmful. I can imagine that any time Marty is feeling nervous or let down, and goes to his father seeking encouragement, he's only left with the impression that it's better not to take any risks at all because he might fail anyway. Instead of being built up, any potential self-worth is being chipped away at by George.

And as far as Lorraine is concerned, I get the impression that she's (more often than not) critical and judgemental of Marty. She's not shy about airing her strong dislike for Jennifer, during which Marty stays completely silent and unresponsive. Perhaps Marty's general default around his mom is silence, due to him having learned a long while back that he's better off keeping his mouth shut. I can see Lorraine lecturing Marty often, picking apart every little flaw she may see in him (friends, grades, attitude, etc.), especially when she's had too many drinks and especially when you consider that Marty is probably her most "difficult" child. Sad as it may sound, I can't picture Marty walking away from very many interactions with his mother feeling good about himself.

• GENERAL ANXIETY/NEURODIVERGENCY: Marty is an easily flustered, anxious guy. And whether that stems from his home environment or genetics (I mean, look at George), I don't know. But he definitely seems to be a sort of nervous, hesitant kid, particularly in the first movie. I also, like most of the fandom, headcanon Marty as having ADHD. And like...if that's the case for him, it certainly isn't helping at all with the self-esteem stuff. He's written off as a slacker at school, told he'll never amount to anything, and probably struggles a lot to keep up in his classes and survive in an environment that almost definitely doesn't offer any form of support or accommodations. That would be a big blow to his self-worth as well.

People with ADHD also tend to be very critical of themselves, worry about what others think of them, and have a hard time with rejection. Hence, the one rejection at the audition followed by, I'm just a big, stupid failure and I'll never ever be good enough. My world is crumbling, I should just give up everything forever =(((

(What do you mean those weren't his exact words??)

• BONUS: Marty might also face a decent amount of social isolation/teasing due to his friendship with Doc, which would take a toll on confidence too. Also, I just...don't think that Marty has many friends??

When you take all the above factors, Marty's self-esteem issues make a lot of sense and, if not for Doc, would probably run a lot deeper than what we see in the trilogy. ALSO!

• Marty blaming himself for Doc getting hit by lightning in the DeLorean: I've seen a few people comment on this and how they think it's ridiculous that Marty felt guilty but...it's always made a lot of sense to me, actually. No, Marty didn't cause the lightning, but he did set off the chain of events that led to Doc being there at that moment. If he'd had the inner strength/self-control to walk away from Biff outside of the dance, he could have just joined Doc on the roof with the almanac and they'd have been on their merry way. And even if Biff had continued to challenge him, or even followed him, Marty likely could have created a diversion or gotten an adult at the dance to help and still made it up to the roof before the worst of the storm hit. But because he couldn't stand being called a chicken, he ended up taking a door to the face, had the book stolen back, and had to go on that little side adventure to retrieve it, which led to Doc needing to save him. So yeah, I'm actually team Marty on this one. His choice did lead to Doc being catapulted into the Old West, lol. I'd have been consumed with guilt too.

• The Chicken Thing: I'm not going to go into too much detail (HA!) because this is already ridiculously long, but I will say that I don't go by the more popular headcanon that says Marty's sudden inability to handle being challenged is due to the updated timeline taking effect and "altering" him. Essentially, that Marty growing up with a confident, successful father made him have higher expectations put on him, and so he was always striving to prove he could live up to them.

I actually don't think any ripples from the new timeline catch up to Marty yet during the course of the trilogy. (I tend to headcanon that as happening gradually in the coming weeks and months after he gets home). Instead, I think that Marty's inclination towards becoming feral at the words "chicken", "yellow", etc. is because of his life in his original timeline. Growing up with a jellyfish for a father, it makes sense that Marty would want to distance himself as much as possible from being associated with weakness. He'd want to prove himself that much more because everyone around him would probably think he's just like his cowardly old man.

And though I know it's not really possible (because they weren't planning on a 2nd or 3rd movie), I think a case can be made that there's a glimpse of the "chicken thing" in the first movie, in the scene of Marty and Lorraine in the car at the dance. I mean, he gets all upset and tells her not to drink, but then she calls him a square, uses the classic peer-pressure tactic of, everyone's doing it, and he caves instantly and takes a swig. Could be because he doesn't want to be thought of as a square, or could be because he's desperate to calm his nerves a bit. Either way, Marty doesn't seem to fare too well when challenged or put under pressure, so I lump this scene in as a "chicken" moment.

I...need to stop. I set out to write a quick response to this. Like, a paragraph or two. But this question activated Hyperfocus Mode, and I blinked and now it's 2 hours after I started and I have AN ESSAY.

Thanks for the ask! *goes to lie down*

[instantn00ds]

Love Never Dies (OLD)

I thought I’d post my stuff on tumblr for...convenience? Actually, idk why, I just thought it’d be fun lol. So, here’s a preview of chapter one! (even tho like.. six..? are already up) 

“And here! Lot 666—a chandelier in pieces. Many of you might remember the events leading up to its destruction, and tales of Chat Noir, the so-called Phantom of the Opera. We have recently fitted the fixture to use modern day electricity: by doing so you can all see what was once the glory of this Opera House, and maybe scare away the ghost of nights past.”

Marinette had always been a chorus girl.

She had since her first day walking into the Agreste Opera House, and though it was a reality many would have been content to live in, something inside the girl pushed her to be better. Call it wasted optimism, as many did in the past, but the need to go beyond what everyone expected of her drove Marinette to the position she was in today.

Today would be her first ever audition for the lead role.

“Dearest, you must stop shaking!” a voice cooed in her right ear. Leave it to Alya to call her out on her apparent nervousness. Of course, Marinette was thankful for her friend, someone more akin to a sister, but a small part of her wished she had done a better job concealing the shaking.

“You’re ready for this—I know you are! You’ve practiced harder than anyone else up for the role, and definitely more so than Chloe”

“Thanks, Alya,” the nervous girl replied, “but I can’t help myself!” Though she hated to admit it, somewhere in the back of her mind Marinette knew Chloé would effortlessly receive the role: so far, she had every year. Whether it was because of her talent and capability as a performer or because of her father’s pull in the opera house, the noirette had yet to make up her mind— after all, Chloé could not sell out full houses if the people did not like her voice. Still, it bothered her: for years Marinette had practiced and practiced role after role, only to be denied a chance in the limelight in preference to the Prima Donna.

“Don’t be” Alya firmly stated, “your voice has come a long way from the start of the season, and it is only a matter of time before Queen Bee is overthrown.” Both girls giggled before promptly being shushed by Madame Bustier, the woman leading the auditions.

“And up next is Mademoiselle Chloé Bourgeois auditioning for... the lead” she called, ignoring the groans heard throughout the room, “Perform well my dear, and may Lady Luck be on your side” Madame Bustier concluded, leaving Chloé to begin her audition.

As she had every year, the blonde performed her rendition of Hannibal , belting loudly during each verse

“Is it just me, or did she get worse” Marinette could hear Alya say under her breath. Chloe Bourgeois wasn't an especially bad singer by any means, though what she had could hardly be called a gift. With help from some of the most formidable teachers in Paris, the girl's voice was shaped into something bearable, but desire was found naturally—  no amount of lessons could teach Chloe to have a want so desperate

“As you know,” Madame Bustier scolded, “Mademoiselle Bourgeois deserves our complete attention— and that cannot happen when there is chatter on the main floor” Marinette sank into her seat as Chloé scoffed

“In all honesty, I don’t know why you let her in here at all Madame B— as if she’s going to get the part” The way Chloe spoke to Marinette was always so demeaning, but in all fairness she spoke to everyone that way. Still, the comment felt unwarranted; leave it to Chloe to attack Marinette’s greatest insecurity.

Noticing the harshness of the comment, Madame Bustier frowned, “that will be all Mademoiselle Bourgeois— you may continue where you left off” Even though there was little Madame Bustier could do to put the blonde in her place, Marinette felt content with her quick response. At least the staff was on her side, so she wasn’t so alone

                                                            …

Bourgeois auditions were notoriously long for all the wrong reasons. It primarily depended on the length of the piece the girl went with every year: Hannibal . The added notes, repeats, runs, and fermatas did nothing to stop the music from staying past its welcome, and with help from Sabrina, it was nearly impossible for the song to finish on time. Knowing this, it was easy for anyone in the crowd to get lost in their thoughts: afterall, they did have a solid 15 minutes before

Mademoiselle Bourgeois would finally step down, and having heard it countless times before, Hannibal was getting duller by the second. Needless to say, Marinette had been a casualty in this war many of times

“Marinette? MARINETTE!” The ditzy girl eventually snapped away from her daydreams: Chloé’s audition must have finally ended. “Madame Bustier has been trying to get your attention! You remember—for your audition?” Alya poked

“Don’t even try: it’s no use Césaire. Dupain-Cheng would never get the role regardless of whether she were here or not!” Chloé added, looking away from both girls, “Madame Bustier already knows the role belongs to me.”

“She only knows as your father paid for the production” Alya scoffed, trying to defend her best friend.

���I’m sorry, did you say something, Césaire?”

“Why, yes Chloé. I said your father is a—”

“That will be enough” a firm voice cracked through. It was Madame Mendeleiev— head of the production.

“Ladies, I would expect you both to understand the importance of working together, and I assure you would not like the consequences should you not” She gave a large frown before continuing, “But luckily for you that is not why I am here today”

Alya and Chloe glared at each other as a crowd gathered around the stage. When Madame Mendeleiev opened her mouth, the room hushed, “Before we conclude auditions”, she said, glancing at Marinette, “I have an announcement for the troop”

Now that everyone’s attention was on the teachers in the front, she continued, “As you may have heard, the great Gabriel Agreste has recently passed. Therefore, the ownership of the Opera House will be passed down to his youngest son, Adrien.” The room burst in outcry, most protesting the new change in management.

“The young Agreste belongs in an office, not the opera!”

“What about our wages— will they cut our wages?”

“Is he even old enough to manage the House?”

“Please everyone! Settle down!” Madame Mendeleiev impatiently demanded, “The young Agreste will have time to prove to everyone he is more than capable in running our opera house— his opera house.” Though it didn’t seem to convince the crowd, Madame Mendeleiev carried on

“He is to arrive any minute, to check on our production— to make sure we are up to his standards.” All of a sudden, Marinette tensed, “Madame Bustier, the auditions— my audition—does this mean it’s canceled?” After how hard she’d worked, after everything she had done— it couldn’t end like this! Even if Chloe was destined to get the lead role this year, was it too much to ask for a fighting chance? All she wanted was a moment to be able to prove herself, but quickly her prospects had seemed to be shifting. Suddenly, a voice was heard by the door.

“Fear not for your audition Mademoiselle” a strange, new voice called, “It will continue as planned if I have anything to say about it.” Upon hearing this, Marinette turned around. A tall man stood in front of her; he had bronze colored skin and wore thin bifocals which suited the color of his dark hair. His eyes were a strong amber— yet his demeanor was calm and collected. The mysterious man gazed around the room, landing his eyes on Alya, before quickly looking away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Monsieur Nino Lahiffe”