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cheriladycl01 · 16 days

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Billion Dollar Baby - Grid x Billionare! Reader x Lewis Hamilton (Rom) Part 1

Plot: Girlie loves Formula One, but she also loved Chaos and Drama so she offers the FIA/ the F1 Teams 300 million to do a race … for her under her rules!

Credit to ladygagasource

As a billionaire with a net worth of over 90 billion pounds to your name and your name alone and having multiple stable corporations and investments in loads of different sectors and having donated overly generous amounts to charity, you couldn't help but start to find more interesting ways to invest your money.

You had 7 homes, all around the world completely paid off with about double the amount of cars, whether they were super cars, vintage cars or personalized cars. A private jet, 3 vacation homes and an island.

You lived a lavish life but you worked extremely hard for it, there wasn't really a moment you weren't working.

But you had your hobbies, the theatre (specifically WestEnd), travelling (when you had time away from work) you'd been really getting into sport.

Particularly F1 was an interest of yours. You'd put forward money into McLaren and given them upgrades from your various companies both tech wise and team wear wise.

But you were so intrigued with the sport and the difference from F2.

In F2, the cars were pretty much all the same and it was fully on driver capability. Whereas in F1 you could be a cracking driver but depending on the team you were in you were in a shit box car.

And that's why you were now currently stood in the paddock at Silverstone.

You'd proposed ... to the FIA a race, where you'd pay for driver - team switches that you could choose and run it as a charity event so any tickets sold went to charities chosen by the drivers.

And everyone loved it. I mean why wouldn't they. It wasn't like the teams were loosing out on money because you were paying them to build another car and for the drivers it was just a bit of fun to experience another car.

So here you were, in front of 20 drivers, 10 team principles, some CEO's of the teams, some FIA representatives and some media personal.

"Hello everyone!" you smile awkwardly. Even though you'd done presentations in front of many many people this felt really daunting to you.

A chorus of mumbles and hello's back to you occurred before you stand there awkwardly. Someone was supposed to introduce you, that's what you were told when you first got here but no-one was attempting to come up on stage to help you so you just laugh.

"So apparently no one is coming up to introduce me... so erm if you don't know who i am I'm Y/N Y/L/N and I've proposed money to each of your teams and the FIA to create a charity race where I switch drivers into different cars... Formula 1 really intrigues me to see how you all are naturally talented drivers and that the car really does matter... and i think it will be really interesting for the fans. It's a great opportunity for the teams and drivers to make special merch and special helmets and I just think as drivers it will be a really great experience for all of you!" you grin and there was mumbles questions thrown at you till you PR manager came up next to you to calm everyone down.

"One at a time please!" he says in his gruff masculine voice.

"Are you choosing which teams we go to?" Lando asks first, and you nodded.

"Are teams making a different car? Or?" he asks and you shake you head.

"Teams will rebuild the exact car that they have now. It will just be other drivers inside the car. Do you guys want to hear where you'll be?" you ask and a chorus of agreement flows through the room.

"Okay, so first up our two Red Bull Drivers. Current Champions of both Constructor and Drivers. Max Verstappen, you will be going to Williams. And Sergio Perez you will be going to Haas!" you start and gasps surround.

"So we aren't staying with our current team mate?" Lewis asks looking over to George.

"Okay, as for the current Ferrari Drivers, Charles you will be going to McLaren and Carlos after your announcement of joining Nico in Sauber for 2025 i thought it would be fun to give you a ... test run so you are going to Sauber!" you cheer and they both nod.

"Okay then for my McLaren boys I got Oscar to Ferrari and Lando to ... Red Bull!" you grin and Lando looks down with a laugh and shake of his head. Being a McLaren sponsor meant you spent a lot of time around the paddock with the pair of them.

"Next our Mercedes men, Lewis will be joining Max in Williams" you smirk making Lewis shake his head, you'd always liked teasing Lewis having had a relationship at one point and ending on good terms due to work stresses and struggles.

"And George will be in Aston Martin!" you smile and he nods.

"As for Aston Martin, Fernando you'll be driving alongside Carlos as a Spanish Duo in Sauber and Lance well your dad offered me money to put you in Red Bull but thought that wasn't the spirt of the charity event so Alpine for you!" you grin and you can tell some of the drivers, including Lance are trying not to laugh.

"Visa Cash App Racing Bulls, fuck me that's a mouthful erm Dani Ric you my friend are going to ... Aston Martin nice one and my favrioute driver ... sorry Lando and Oscar but he's literally my son ... Yuki my love you'll be in Red Bull with Lando!" you smile and he fits the air happily before nodding at you in thanks.

"Nico, Kevin Haas hasn't actually been all that bad for you guys this year. You've had great drivers however ... Kevin to Mercedes and Nico to RB!" you smile.

"Williams duo. You guys will be moving up. Logan i think you'll really really suit Ferrari red and Alex you better like Papaya coz you'll be joining Charles in McLaren!" you smile and Logan's face lights up being in a top team. This was really his opportunity to prove himself and that he was a great driver.

"Alpine ... not been an easy season for you guys unfortunately ... Pierre you'll be joining Mercedes and Esteban you'll drive for Haas"

"And finally our Stake Sauber whatever your team name is called will be moving ... Zhou to Alpine and Valtteri to Racing Bulls!"

"I hope this interests you all and you are all excited for the race in two months!" you say and you stay behind talking to some of the drivers until one is left.

"Hey baby" you smirk at Lewis as he leans against the door frame.

"I don't think I'll ever get over you calling me baby" he smiles softly and you smile back.

"Of course you wont ... baby" you grin.

"I'm excited for this race but I can't believe you .. put me in a Williams!" he exclaims and you just laugh before flattening out the lapels of his blazer before looking up at him.

"Cant make it easy for you, I wanna see you fight. You've lost your spark Lew!" you sigh looking over him.

Yours and Lewis relationship came to and end in 2021, just after he'd lost the championship. Said he needed to be more focused on his career. Baring in mind you'd been dating for 5 years before that.

"I-I know, it's not been the same since ..." he trails off and you nod.

"Since Max won... I know!" he smile at him, rubbing his shoulder, but after hearing you he takes a step back.

"No, since we ended things!" he sighs and you look over him in confusion.

"Lew..." you start and he shakes his head.

"I know it was mutual, but you were it for me. You ... you still are Y/N. I want you back and I know you aren't ready right now but you are the one thing i will and always will continue to fight for, fuck another championship ... fuck even another race win. I want you back though and I promise you i'll prove it!" he says looking over you, tears filling in your eyes as he pulls you into his chest, hugging you while stroking your hair.

"Ohhhh Lewis, what are you doing to me..." you laugh, because if you don't you'll cry.

"I'll see you in two months Lew!" you smile and walk out the door. He looks a little gutted your leaving but you need him to prove that he'll try.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris imagine #charles lecrelc x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 #lh44 smut

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pickingupmymercedes · 3 months

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She's here and she's ours - Lewis Hamilton

Pure fluff.

Sequel She's here and she's not only ours (+1k)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

a/n: I'm 100% sure Lewis is gonna be a girl dad, like there's no other option in my mind. Also, I might make this a series of firsts with his kids, maybe 🙃

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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First-borns took longer to come, you’d been told that much, but 26 hours of active labor seemed like a bad joke.

The due date had been almost a week prior, which meant she had to be induced, but at the end of it all a perfectly healthy, and tad bit big, 20.7 inches and 7.3 pounds baby girl had made her arrival in the early hours of a cold, but sunny, Wednesday.

The three days stay at the hospital also meant all of your and his family had had more than enough time to get to Monaco still in time to chat, have lunch and joke around with you, contractions only ever getting really strong the night before your water finally broke. At a time your perfectly thought-out labor plan had already been torn to pieces.

She was meant to be born in the water, that’s how you and Lewis had dreamt of for months, but being as stubborn as both of you were she didn’t turn and a breach meant being ready for an emergency c-section, if needed. It also meant an epidural would be more than likely required, something you fought your hardest against but eventually agreed to after a couple hours with labor going quicker with the water broken. At the end you still managed to have her naturally, with a second degree tear nonetheless.

But the tiredness, your back killing you, the heartburn, the swollen feet and the pain, none of it took center stage in your mind as you watched your daughter, as weird as that word sounded, falling asleep in her father’s chest.

As soon as she had had her first feed in your breast the nurse asked if skin on skin with the father was something you both would like to happen. His eyes, who had been gleaming with pride since the second the doctor announce she was girl, watered as the nurse handed the infant to a shirtless Lewis, seated at your side in the sofa by the window.

She squirmed a bit as her small body tried to find comfort against his muscular chest, one of his hands almost big enough to hold her entire body while the other supported her neck and head. And as if in a movie, as soon as he spoke, her body relaxed and she contently sighted with the sound she had spent the last months hearing from inside you, a voice almost as constant as yours to her.

“She’s here, babe, and she’s all ours.” You couldn’t really tell if he was telling you or himself that, his eyes wouldn’t leave the infant in his arms and his movements were careful and kept to a minimal

“How you feeling dad?” Your voice breaking the spell he seemed to be under, his eyes shining with love for his family, the one he finally had.

“Amazed, hopeful, scared… in love” He almost whispered after thinking for a bit.

It was Lewis first year with Ferrari, all the excitement and buzz from the move were gone and real life had set in. Redbull were still dominating the grid, Ferrari a bit closer than the previous year, with both driver even managing to snatch a vitory each, but still the focus was now on the new regs for the 2026 car.

The mandatory summer shutdown was the perfect opportunity to destress for at least a week before the chaos started back again and Lewis made sure the ever-shorter time he had for a vacation would be perfectly spent with family and friends alike, somewhere in the sunny Mediterranean ocean.

It was on a hot and clear night that summer that your lives began to really change.

His step mom was talking about how hard it’d become to gain a few pounds of lean mass after menopause had hit, a curiously shy Willow asking her mom what menopause was and getting the period talk on the side while you mentally panicked that your period had been due for at least about 2 weeks, something you completely put to the back of your mind with the craziness of summer shutdown preparations.

You were on birth control, but still it could happen, you both knew that and had agreed on no condoms. Later that night, while Lewis got a late workout in and everyone else went to bed, you franticly looked for the package at the bottom of your suitcase, hoping the damn thing was still there.

Almost twenty minutes later Lewis found you on the bed staring at the night sea, lost in thoughts, shaking and so in over your head it took him at least 10 minutes to comprehend your rumbles about the test, still untouched at the adjoining suite sink, the line that read “pregnant 5-6 weeks” screaming back at you both.

To say the pregnancy took sometime getting used to was a light hearted way to say you went through hell mentally and physically. But still, the moment that tiny creature first kicked you after hearing her father’s voice melted any sign of a doubt left.

You were not only gifting Lewis his most treasured wish, you were gifting yourself a perfect symbol of the respect, companionship and love you two shared. A tiny human you and him got to raise and protect until she went out into the world and left her mark.

As everyone else came into the room to finally meet the newest Hamilton, Lewis’ moment with his newborn was interrupted by his mom getting to hold her newest grandkid, followed closely by his sisters, brother, niece and nephew crowding the sofa he sat just a few moments before.

“Thank you, babe, truly. I don’t even know how to tell you how grateful I am.” His lips kissing your hair from the top of your bed, eyes attentively watching as your girl got passed around.

“We’ll have at least 18 more years with her, you’ll have time.” You looked up at him to get his toothy smile just as your family walked into the room to complete the party.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #formula 1 #f1 imagine

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month

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Allergies II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: You have another allergic reaction

In all honesty, you didn't really think it was that serious.

Nutrition meetings at Barcelona were a lot more in depth than what you were used to at Arsenal. They took ages and were full of information that would probably be interesting if you actually cared but, alas, nutrition had never been as interesting to you as other subjects so you tended to just zone out.

You were handed a new smoothie with some kind of new protein powder in or something you would have known if you actually listened.

You drank it.

That's when things start to get weird.

The nutritionist continues to drone on and you frown, scratching at your neck.

You stare down at your bottle for a moment as your throat goes all scratchy and intense.

You force yourself to swallow before glancing around.

Your throat gets a bit tighter.

No one else seems to be having such a reaction so you unscrew the top of your bottle to peer inside. You sniff the mixture before standing up.

You can feel people watch as you make your way over to the first aid kit at the front of the room. Your throat has fully closed up now and you know that you're turning alarmingly red and probably breaking out in hives.

Honestly, you feel a little bit shocked how you're even conscious right now but you grab your epipen and stab it into your leg.

"Banana," You say plainly," I can't eat that."

Even with the adrenaline now pumping through your system, you slide your way down the wall to sit on the floor, breathing in deeply.

The room erupts into chaos the moment you sit down.

The medical staff come in to check your blood pressure and your throat and the expiration date of your epipen. The nutritionist leading the session is going absolutely ballistic yelling at one of her assistants for not checking the allergy sheets before making and handing out the smoothies.

Talia looks close to tears as she forces her way towards you, practically shoving some of the medics away. "Are you okay? Is it bad? Do I need to call your mums?"

"No! Don't call my-"

Talia's already gone out into the hall, phone pressed up against her ear.

You wonder which one of your mothers she has in her contacts.

Surely not Morsa because she's still in that stage where she's pretending to hate your girlfriend but you can't remember your Momma and Talia interacting enough to have swapped numbers and you know for certain that you weren't one to hand out people's numbers without explicit permission.

As the medics fuss and the nutritionist yells, the team also gather around to check that you're alright but you just give them a gallant shrug.

"I'm fine," You say," The epipen did its work."

"I think I'd prefer if you take the day off," The head of the medical team says," Just to be safe. You can come back tomorrow."

You know better than to argue with him so you just nod with a little sigh of annoyance.

"I can take her home," Talia says as she re-enters the room," I've got her."

"I can take a taxi home," You insist.

You and Talia drive in together so only one car is used. If you go home in that car now then she'll have to get a taxi in the middle of rush hour.

"I'll take you home," Talia says," Coach can spare me at training today. Someone's got to make sure you actually follow medical advice."

You roll your eyes. "I swear you've been hanging out with my Momma behind my back." You take the hand she offers to help you stand. "You sound just like her."

You end up back home fairly quickly, curled up on the sofa and practically forced to take a nap.

Prins joins you, curled up in the bend of your knee. Reina settles on the top of the sofa behind your head, completely stretched out and at ease with herself while Kung manages to wiggle himself between your arms to nap there.

You don't know how long you nap for but it must be a while because the sun is setting when you wake up and you can smell Talia cooking up your favourite pasta dish in the world.

You sit up.

You've definitely been sleeping for a while because Reina has migrated to her cat tree, poking her head out of the cave to watch Kung bounce around the floor in outrage at not being allowed up there with her.

Prins has taken Kung's place between your arms and his tongue rolls out of his mouth in a semblance of a dopey smile when he notices you awake, his tail beginning to wag happily.

"Hi, little man," You say, gently scratching between his ears," Did you keep me company?"

Prins' tail wags even more fiercely than before.

"Didn't want to leave your side."

You jolt, shrieking and Prins whines a little.

"Morsa! What are you doing here?!"

"Talia called your Momma," Morsa says, tucking the blanket more firmly around your body," Your allergies acted up."

"I dealt with it," You insist," You didn't have to fly out."

"Yes, we did," Morsa replies," Because if we waited for you to tell us, it would take weeks!"

You puff out your cheeks. "I wouldn't want to worry you over something so silly."

"Are you calling your allergies silly again?" Momma says. She enters with two plates worth of food and you sit up.

Prins leaps down to wander over to his own dog bed. Seeing him lying there, Kung wanders over, jumping up onto Prins' back to finish napping there as Reina ducks her head back into her cave.

"No, Momma," You mumble, accepting your food as Morsa takes a seat on the armchair and Momma to the left of you, leaving an empty space for Talia, who also brings out food for herself and Morsa before taking her own seat.

"Are you feeling better, mi vida?" She asks," You look better."

You nod. "I feel fine. My leg aches a little but that's expected."

"We'll put an icepack on it once we've finished eating. Prins was very worried about you."

Prins raises his head at the mention of his name, tail wagging.

"He's good boy."

Morsa grins from across the room. "I knew getting you a dog was a good idea."

Momma scoffs. "You told me that we should have gotten her a fish."

Morsa coughs to clear her throat and mumbles," Don't lie, Pernille."

"You wanted to get me a fish?" You laugh in disbelief," And you say Rocky is the most disappointing pet in the world."

"Are you really saying your pet rock is more exciting than a fish?"

"Am I?" You pretend to think for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I am."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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xtra7s · 4 months

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Could you do an enemies to lovers smut for Renee rapp? I can't find anything like it for this woman, and it's been sitting in the back of my brain for WEEKS🤣

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairing: Renee Rapp x gn!reader

Sypnosis: Renee and Y/N, past broadway rivals, meet again at a party.

Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, alcohol

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: sorry there isnt much enemy to lover action, im completely writer blocked and I hope you enjoy. Not proofread

masterlist

The room pulsed with energy, and at the center of it all, Renee Rapp held court. Her laughter rang out like a melody, drawing attention from all corners of the glamorous party. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd, and the atmosphere shifted. Y/N, now 23, stood there, an unspoken challenge in their gaze.

"Well, well, if it isn't Y/N," Renee smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Thought you'd be off somewhere trying to steal the spotlight again."

Y/N chuckled, unfazed by Renee's jab. "You know me, always craving the attention you seem to think you deserve."

The tension between them crackled like electricity, the memories of their past rivalry bubbling to the surface. They exchanged pleasantries with false smiles, each word laced with underlying competition.

"Still riding on that role you stole from me, Rapp?" Y/N quipped, a sly grin playing on their lips.

Renee leaned in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. I didn't steal it; I earned it. Unlike some people who rely on sympathy and mediocre talent."

The banter continued, their words cutting deeper with each exchange. It was as if the years had melted away, and they were back on the Broadway stage, fighting for the same spotlight. The party became a battleground, and every smile, every gesture, was a carefully calculated move in their ongoing verbal duel.

The party raged on, the music pulsating through the crowded room. As the night wore on, the competitive banter between Renee Rapp and Y/N took an unexpected turn. Glasses clinked, inhibitions faded, and the tension transformed into a different kind of electricity.

"Admit it, Y/N," Renee slurred playfully, leaning in closer. "You always secretly admired my talent. It's okay; I get it."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as they responded, "Oh, please. I only admired how you managed to talk your way into roles you had no business getting."

Laughter erupted between them, a shared understanding weaving through the alcohol-induced haze. The lines between rivalry and attraction blurred as they engaged in a tipsy dance of words and glances.

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from the prying eyes of the party. The air was thick with laughter and a lingering tension that seemed to pull them closer.

"I'll have you know," Renee began, her tone low and teasing, "I could still outshine you on any stage, even in this state."

Y/N chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Challenge accepted, Rapp. But first, can we agree that we were both robbed of that role we fought over?"

Renee's eyes softened, and she nodded, a shared nostalgia washing over them. "Yeah, maybe we were both deserving. Broadway politics can be brutal."

As the night deepened, the flirtatious banter continued, their words becoming increasingly laced with innuendo. The competitive edge now carried a hint of something more, a mutual attraction that had been buried beneath years of rivalry.

"I have to admit," Y/N admitted, their gaze locking with Renee's, "you clean up well when you're not trying to sabotage my career."

Renee smirked, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I should sabotage something else instead."

The playful banter took a more seductive turn, and the air became charged with a different kind of energy. It was as if the years of rivalry had paved the way for a newfound connection – one that went beyond the stage and into the realm of shared secrets and stolen glances.

The raucous sounds of the party faded into a distant hum as Renee Rapp and Y/N slipped away, finding refuge in the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom. Y/N shot a mischievous smile at Renee, a glint of playfulness in their eyes.

"I need a moment to touch up my makeup," Y/N said, their voice low and suggestive.

Renee raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, I'm not one to let someone go to the bathroom alone, especially if they might be up to something."

Y/N chuckled, leading the way into the bathroom. The air was charged with anticipation, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as they entered the small space. Y/N turned to face the mirror, pretending to focus on their makeup, but their eyes locked with Renee's in the reflection.

"You know," Y/N teased, their voice a sultry whisper, "I never thought I'd find myself in a bathroom with you. The stuff of dreams, really."

Renee chuckled, closing the distance between them. "Dreams do come true, especially when you least expect them."

As Y/N applied lipstick, Renee couldn't resist the temptation. She gently turned Y/N around, their eyes locking with an intensity that sent shivers down both their spines. The playful banter had shifted into a charged moment of unspoken desire.

Renee, with a smirk that conveyed both confidence and mischief, pushed Y/N gently against the bathroom wall. Y/N's breath caught, their heartbeat echoing in the confined space. The flirtatious tension reached its peak as Renee leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.

"You talk a big game, Y/N," Renee whispered, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "But I wonder if you can handle me."

Before Y/N could respond, Renee closed the remaining distance, capturing Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. The bathroom seemed to fade away, and all that remained was the electric connection between them. Y/N responded eagerly, their hands finding their way to Renee's jaw, as Renee holds their waist.

The kiss was a blend of years of rivalry, newfound attraction, and the intoxication of the night. The world outside the bathroom ceased to exist as Renee and Y/N lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, the playful banter had transformed into a silent understanding. The bathroom had become a secret haven for a connection that went beyond the stage, leaving both Renee and Y/N wondering what the encore of this unexpected night would bring.

The remnants of their passionate kiss lingered in the air as Renee and Y/N pulled away, their eyes locking in a shared moment of realization. A playful grin played on Renee's lips as she looked into Y/N's eyes.

"Feisty," Renee remarked, her voice low and teasing. "But I have a feeling the night is just getting started. How about we continue this at my place, hm?"

Y/N's heart raced at the suggestion, a mix of excitement and curiosity dancing in their eyes. "And why should I be inclined to go, Rapp?"

Renee leaned in, her breath warm against Y/N's ear. "My place isn't too far from here. It's quieter, and we can continue our little encore without any interruptions."

A sly smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "Should I be concerned?"

Renee chuckled, her fingers lightly tracing Y/N's jawline. "Only if you can't handle a little adventure. Besides, it's just a short cab ride away. What do you say?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the magnetic pull between them undeniable. "Lead the way, Rapp. Let's see what kind of encore you have in mind."

As they exited the bathroom, the party continued to buzz around them, oblivious to the clandestine connection that had formed. Renee intertwined her fingers with Y/N's, leading them through the crowd with an air of confidence. The night held the promise of something unpredictable, and neither of them could resist the allure of what awaited at Renee's house.

Outside, the city lights shimmered, casting a romantic glow on the streets. Renee hailed a cab, and as they slid into the backseat, the anticipation grew. The ride was filled with stolen glances and the lingering heat of their earlier encounter.

Arriving at Renee's apartment, the door closed behind them, sealing the promise of a night filled with passion and shared secrets. As they stepped into the dimly lit space, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N ignited once again, setting the stage for an encore that would be remembered long after the final curtain fell.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Renee couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She pressed Y/N against it, her hands sliding up their waist and pulling them closer. Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's shoulders as they looked up at her with hunger in their eyes.

Renee kissed down their neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin and earning a moan from Y/N's lips. She had always been fascinated by the way someone's reactions could change when she kissed different spots on their body.

"Bedroom" Renee murmured, pulling Y/N by her right hand to Renee's bedroom. Renee pushed Y/N gently onto her bed, their bodies sinking into the soft mattress. She climbed on top of them, her lips never leaving their skin as she kissed and nipped along their jawline, down their neck, and across their collarbone.

Y/N's hands roamed up Renee's back, pulling her closer as they let out soft moans. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the occasional gasp as Renee's lips found new spots to explore.

Renee's hands slid under Y/N's shirt, her fingers trailing over their skin and eliciting shivers from Y/N's body. She leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a deep kiss, their tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm.

As the kiss intensified, Renee's hand traveled lower until she reached the waistband of Y/N's pants. She paused for a moment, silently asking for permission before continuing. Y/N responded by arching into her touch and pulling her even closer.

Their clothes were soon discarded in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending sparks through their bodies. They explored each other with an urgency that couldn't be contained any longer.

With each passing moment, the intensity between Renee and Y/N only grew stronger. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.

Renee's lips trailed down Y/N's chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along the way. She stopped to pay special attention to their breasts, kneading them roughly as she attached her lips to one of Y/N's nipples.

Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's hair as they arched into her touch. The sensation was overwhelming, causing them to moan loudly and lose themselves in the pleasure.

As Renee continued to lavish attention on Y/N's body, her hand traveled down between their legs. She ran a finger through Y/N's folds, teasing them with gentle strokes before delving deeper.

Y/N's hips bucked against her hand, their breath coming in short gasps as they became lost in pleasure. Renee slipped two fingers into them, increasing the pressure and speed until Y/N was writhing beneath her.

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and heavy breathing as they moved together in perfect harmony. Renee knew exactly how to touch Y/N to drive them wild, and she took great pleasure in doing so.

Their eyes met for a moment before Y/N leaned down to capture Renee's lips in a passionate kiss. Their bodies moved together with a newfound urgency, both desperate for release.

Renee moved Y/N up the bed with no resistance from them. She trailed kisses and gentle bites down their body until she reached their thighs. Gently, she hiked their legs up onto her shoulders, exposing them completely to her.

Y/N let out a gasp as Renee's lips found a particularly sensitive spot on their inner thigh, sending shivers through their body. They could feel the heat building between their legs as Renee continued to leave a trail of kisses and bites along their thighs.

Without warning, Renee's tongue darted out and flicked over Y/N's clit, causing them to cry out in pleasure. She continued to work her tongue expertly on Y/N's most sensitive area, alternating between soft licks and hard sucking motions.

Y/N's hands gripped onto the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over them. They were completely at Renee's mercy, lost in the sensations coursing through their body.

As Renee continued to pleasure Y/N with her mouth, her hand slipped upwards to find its way inside of them once again. She worked her fingers in perfect rhythm with her tongue, driving Y/N closer and closer to the edge.

With one final thrust of her fingers and a flick of her tongue, Renee brought Y/N over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm. They cried out in ecstasy as they rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through their body.

Renee didn't stop there though. She continued to kiss and lick at Y/N's sensitive areas, prolonging their pleasure until they couldn't take it anymore.

Finally, when Y/N was spent and breathless from their release, Renee made her way back up their body to capture their lips in a deep kiss once again. Their bodies were still humming with energy as they kissed each other passionately.

Renee's body was still humming with pleasure from Y/N's expert touch, but she couldn't resist the invitation in their words. "Let me make you feel good, Renee," they murmured, their voice filled with desire.

With a lazy smile, Renee shifted over to give Y/N more space on the bed. She watched as they trailed a hand down her naked body, causing shivers to run down her spine.

Their lips found hers in a sloppy kiss as their hand continued its journey downwards. Renee gasped into their mouth as their fingers brushed against her sensitive skin.

Without hesitation, Y/N slipped their hand between Renee's legs, finding her wet and ready for them. They rubbed her clit gently before slipping a finger inside of her. Renee moaned into the kiss as pleasure shot through her body. They knew exactly how to touch her, and she could feel herself getting lost in the sensations.

Their kiss became more urgent as Y/N added another finger, thrusting them in and out of her with perfect rhythm. She could feel the heat building within her once again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she reached the edge.

Y/N broke the kiss and looked into Renee's eyes with a mischievous grin. "Do you want me to make you cum baby?" they murmured against Y/N's lips.

Renee let out a pathetic yes, unable to form any sentences as pleasure consumed her body. Y/N leaned down to capture one of their nipples in their mouth, sucking on it gently while their fingers continued to work their magic between her legs.

It didn't take long before Renee was crying out in pleasure, waves of ecstasy washing over her body. She clung onto Y/N tightly as she rode out the intense orgasm that had been building within her.

As Renee came down from her high, she pulled Y/N up to her level and captured their lips in a passionate but lazy kiss. She could taste herself on their lips and it only added to the feeling of intimacy between them.

Renee reached over to grab a discarded blanket from the floor and pulled it over them, covering their naked bodies. She held Y/N close to her, enjoying the warmth and closeness.

"God, that was amazing," Y/N murmured against her lips, still catching their breath.

Renee smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face. "You were amazing," she whispered back.

They fell into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other's arms. Renee couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed.

Eventually, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep, their limbs intertwined and breathing in sync.

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls #regina george x reader #wlw #lesbian

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uzurimisery · 6 months

Text

chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.

wc: 4,422

waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read

AO3 version here | Series Master

“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”

Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was.

Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most.

The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.

You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.

You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.

Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.

"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”

A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine.

"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."

His jaw tensed.

“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.”

“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing.

"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."

“And what is my role in this performance?”

"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."

His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.

The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.

The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him.

He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.

Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.

“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”

When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.

While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.

There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them.

But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.

As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.

Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.

Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."

Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."

As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.

The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.

"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."

"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.

Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.

The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.

Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.

You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.

“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.

Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.”

Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."

He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”

Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.

___

Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.

He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal.

His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.

Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind.

You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.

You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back.

“Corio, what's wrong?”

Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.

"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”

Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.”

He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.

Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.

Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.

He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.

“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.”

“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”

“Well I’d have your mother.”

You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him. The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms.

Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.

“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.”

“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’

Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.

Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.

You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.

It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him.

Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him.

A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick.

“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”

“How do you know this?”

You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.”

“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”

“But we aren't.”

“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”

“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.”

You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast.

He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you.

“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.”

His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes.

Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.

“Nothing is wrong.”

"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."

He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.

"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.

"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."

Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.

Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.

"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.

You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.

“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”

Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile.

The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting.

The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight.

His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.

“Oh my!”

He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.

A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them.

Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained.

Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip.

“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.”

Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.

“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.”

“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.”

He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly.

“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”

#uzuri writes #hunger games imagine #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the death of an actor #hunger games smut

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thehollowwriter · 7 months

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Summary: Jade is drunk. That's it that's the story. Nah, there's some fluff and dancing with gn reader too.

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

Mostro Madness

In the midst of bright neon lights, blaring music, and a crescendo of of excited voices, you wondered if your eyes were deceiving you.

They had to be. It was the only explanation. Because the man in front of you right now could not possibly be Jade Leech

Surely, this was Floyd Leech. It couldn't be anyone else, given his current state.

Suit jacket and hat discarded, bowtie undone, shirt unbuttoned all the way down to just above his belly button, his hair an absolute mess and sticking to a face flushed red and stretched with a wide fanged smile.

Alas, Floyd was currently on the dimly lit stage to your left, singing remarkably well into the mic while swinging back and forth with a half empty glass of whiskey in hand

Therefore, unless someone had duplicated Floyd, the eel smiling at you right now was none other than Jade Leech.

Completely and utterly hammered.

"Puffball." Jade was swaying on his feet, his special pet name for you lilted and floaty on his tongue. "You look..." He giggled softly. "You look beautiful tonight."

You briefly wondered if he was pulling your leg, laughing like that, but you decided to humour him anyways.

"Thanks, Jade." You said, sickly sweet. "You look absolutely enchanting yourself, hon."

Jade's eyes widened in surprise and he covered his face with his hands, his golden eye peeking out from between his gloved fingers.

"Oh my." He slurred, giggling again. "My love is kind to me tonight."

You rolled your eyes at his sudden bashfulness. He was going to be quite embarrassed about this tomorrow (unless he decided to be happy about all that transpired) and he had nobody to blame but himself.

A friendly- if you could really call anything involving Jade friendly- drinking competition with Azul and Floyd had gone laughably awry, leaving all three of them a mess.

Azul lay spawled across one of the couches, glasses askew, with eyes as wide as saucers. He mumbled feverently to himself, ignorant of Floyd drunkenly singing on stage and Jade turning into a giggly puddle at your words.

How the twins managed to get Azul to agree to such a competition in the first place was a mystery.

Truly, the Mostro Lounge 10th Anniversary party (staff exclusively) had devolved into chaos, given the utter state of everybody else there too.

"Jade, I think you should sit down." You say, raising an eyebrow at his horribly wobbly legs.

"Hmm... nooo..?" Jade's voice slurred. "I think... I would like to dance."

"Jade, you're in no condition to walk, nevermind dance!"

Jade's smile was lopsided. "But my love, it'd the perfect time to dance. Alcohol on the tongue, a beautiful setting, romantic music in the air~"

You would hardly call Floyd snarling crude lyrics into the microphone romantic, as good as his voice was, but you hardly had the heart to say no to Jade when he looked so excited.

"Darling~" Jade gripped your hands with own. "Dance with me. Please?"

He looked at you with wide bright eyes, crocodile tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

You sigh.

"Okay. But don't whine when you topple onto your ass and bring me down with you.'

Jade didn't reply, instead opting to let out another airy giggle and pull you to his chest.

Right hand on your back and left hand intertwined with yours, Jade led you into a messy attempt at a dance that had you swinging around with erratic janky movements.

You nearly fell over a number of times from stepping on each other's feet and knocking into people and furniture.

Jade didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked utterly delighted. His sharp teeth were on full display, mouth stretched in a genuine happy smile as laughter bubbled from his chest.

It was a Jade that was on cloud nine, happy and free of care. He wasn't blackout drunk, oh no, but he was close. Enough to let go of his carefully crafted facade for a short while, surrounded by friends and loved ones.

Suddenly Jade picked you up and spun you in a circle, grinning at your shriek of surprise.

He came to a sudden stop and pulled you close once more, stroking your cheek cheek his thumb.

"I love you so much, my little puffball.' He whispered. "More than any mushroom in the world."

-End

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! I like the idea of Jade calling his s/o mushroom pet names so you're his Puffball hehe

Tagging: @krenenbaker @jadeleechisagoodboy @jaylleoo14 @hoboyherewego @officialdaydreamer00 @dadofdisappointment and @azulashengrottospiano @honey-milk-depresso for the Azul cameo ;)

#jade leech x reader #octavinelle x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #writing #one shot

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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 months

Text

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will.

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in.

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out.

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him.

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder.

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do.

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot.

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on.

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail.

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.”

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since.

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened?

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.”

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that.

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

“Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.”

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you.

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go.

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being.

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret.

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.”

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.”

#nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct x reader #nct x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #nct angst #nct smut #nct au #chubby reader #plus size reader

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Note

Hi hun. If you’re taking requests could you write something about dadrry maybe something where they have another baby and their first kid starts to act out and get jealous.

Jealous Baby Styles.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

word count -

in which, five days ago, you and harry welcomed another little baby into the world, but the blissful baby bubble isn’t all it turns out to be when you have a toddler as well.

Sitting on the cosy sofa with your husband, Harry, and your four-year-old daughter, Marlie, you find yourselves in a whirlwind of emotions and exhaustion. Just five days ago, you and Harry welcomed your precious baby boy, Billie, into the world. As you sit together, Marlie is the furthest away from you, engrossed in her iPad, while you hold Billie close in your arms.

At this moment, you're dressed in nothing but a sports bra and shorts, accompanied by a postpartum nappy that reminds you of the physical toll your body has endured. Your hair, untamed and unwashed, reflects the lack of time you've had for self-care since Billie's arrival. The need for a shower looms over you, but finding the time seems impossible.

The exhaustion is palpable, etched onto your face and seeping into your bones. Five days of little sleep have taken their toll, as you struggle to get more than three hours of rest at a time. Napping is a luxury you can't afford, for you have a toddler to look after alongside your newborn.

Despite the weariness, there's a deep sense of joy and fulfilment within your heart. As you sit on the sofa, the love in the room wraps around you, providing strength amidst the exhaustion. Harry's gaze is filled with admiration and unwavering support, offering reassurance in this challenging phase. Marlie occasionally glances up from her digital world to shower her baby brother with smiles, a testament to the bond forming between them.

Amidst the chaos and messiness of this phase, you find solace in the unity of your family. The sacrifices you make—sleepless nights, dishevelled appearance—are small prices to pay for the overwhelming love and fulfilment that parenthood brings. You draw strength from each other's presence, knowing that this stage, although demanding, is temporary.

You find yourself dozing off on the sofa, the weight of fatigue pulling at your eyelids as Billie rests peacefully in your arms. Just as sleep threatens to overtake you, your husband speaks up.

"Hey, love," Harry gently says, his voice breaking through your drowsiness. "Y'should go upstairs and lie down for a while."

You stir, feeling torn. As a breastfeeding mother, you can’t help but worry that Billie might wake up hungry and need a feed. The thought of leaving him even for a short while makes you hesitant.

"But what if 'he needs to eat?" You express your concern, looking at Harry with tired eyes.

Harry's reassuring voice comforts you. "Don't worry, darlin'. There's pumped milk in the fridge. If 'e gets hungry, I'll take care of it."

Your mind races, contemplating the logistics of it all. Harry would have to manage both Marlie and Billie while you catch up on some much-needed rest. It feels overwhelming', but Harry remains steadfast.

"I don't get up for the night feeds because y'breastfeed 'im," Harry reminds you. "I'm only responsible for changin' nappies. Y'deserve a nap. Let me handle things for a while."

Reluctantly, you give in, nodding your head in agreement. The weight of exhaustion and the realisation that you desperately need rest outweigh your concerns. Trusting Harry to care for both Marlie and Billie, you surrender to the idea of stealing' a precious moment of sleep.

And with that nod, the scene concludes, leaving you with the anticipation of the rest you so desperately need.

Once you've nodded, Harry gently takes Billie from your tired arms, causing the little one to stir slightly at the movement. With a soft whisper of reassurance, Harry slowly lowers him into the cozy bassinet placed in the front room.

"Don't worry, mate," Harry whispers to Billie, his voice soothing. "I've just gotta help y’mama get upstairs. You'll be alright."

Meanwhile, Harry turns his attention to Marlie, who is engrossed in her playtime on her ipad. "Marlie, m’love," he says, trying to engage her. "Y’keep an eye on y’baby brother, alright?"

Marlie, fully immersed in her imaginative world, remains focused on her screen and doesn't respond to Harry's words. However, both you and Harry are too preoccupied with ensuring a smooth transition upstairs to give much thought to her lack of response.

Harry offers his strong and supportive arm, helping you up each step of the staircase. You're still feeling the lingering discomfort from giving birth, and his gentle whispers of reassurance provide a comforting backdrop to your ascent.

"It's alright, m’love," Harry murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "Just take it easy. We'll get y’settled in no time."

As you reach the top of the stairs, Harry guides you into the peaceful sanctuary of your master bedroom. He lovingly pulls back the soft duvet, creating a welcoming space for you to find comfort. With careful attention, he assists you in getting cosy, ensuring you're nestled in just the right way.

Leaning down, Harry presses a tender kiss to the top of your head, a gesture filled with love and support. His presence is a soothing balm, reminding you that you're not alone in this journey.

"Rest well, m’beautiful," Harry whispers, his voice carrying a mix of affection and concern. "Is there anything else y’need before I head back downstairs?"

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you assure him that you have everything you require nearby. The essentials are within reach, and you're grateful for his attentiveness.

"No, I think I have everything I need," you reply, feeling the warmth of his care enveloping you. "Thank you, baby."

With a final loving gaze, Harry bids you farewell and heads back down the stairs. You watch him go, appreciating the support he provides as he tends to the needs of your growing family.

As Harry descends the stairs, a cheerful voice calls out to him, filling the house with excitement. It's Marlie, eager to have her daddy join in the playtime fun.

"Daddy, come play with me!" Marlie's voice resonates through the living room, brimming with anticipation.

Harry's heart melts at his daughter's request. With the arrival of their baby boy, he recognizes the importance of making sure Marlie feels loved and included. A warm smile spreads across his face as he joins her on the floor, ready to embark on a Barbie-filled adventure.

"F’course, sweetheart!" Harry replies, his voice infused with enthusiasm. "Who do we have here today? What's your Barbie's name?"

Marlie giggles with delight, holding up a doll with a vibrant purple dress. "This is Princess Lily!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement.

Harry joins in the fun, adopting a high-pitched voice for his Barbie doll. "Well, hello there, Princess Lily! It's an honor to meet you. Shall we go on a grand quest together?"

Marlie claps her hands, her imagination taking flight. "Yes, Daddy! Princess Lily needs to find the hidden treasure in the enchanted forest!"

And so, father and daughter dive into the world of make-believe, crafting intricate storylines and creating magical moments. Their voices fill the room as they bring their Barbie dolls to life, each character imbued with unique personalities and aspirations.

Harry leans into the role, using exaggerated gestures and a playful tone to captivate Marlie's imagination. "Princess Lily, fear not! With my trusty unicorn steed, we shall journey through the enchanted forest and overcome any challenges that come our way!"

Marlie's eyes sparkle with delight as she continues the story. "Yes, Daddy! And Princess Lily is brave and kind, just like you!"

Harry's heart swells with pride, cherishing these precious moments with his daughter. As they play, their laughter fills the air, creating a symphony of joy and connection.

As the game unfolds, Marlie introduces new twists and turns, each narrative becoming more whimsical than the last. Harry is fully engaged, actively listening and responding to Marlie's ideas, allowing her creativity to flourish.

"Daddy, look! Princess Lily found a magic wand!" Marlie exclaims, waving a tiny plastic wand in the air.

Harry gasps dramatically. "Oh my goodness, Princess Lily! With that magic wand, you can bring smiles to everyone's faces and spread happiness throughout the kingdom!"

Their playtime continues, with Harry and Marlie exploring the depths of their imagination. They share laughter, engage in heartfelt conversations, and build a bond that transcends the mere moments spent on the floor.

As the playtime reaches its vibrant peak, a sudden cry pierces the air, interrupting the magical atmosphere. Billie, nestled in his bassinet, demands attention, and Harry knows he must momentarily step away to tend to his newborn son.

"Mar, m’love, I need to go check on Billie for a moment," Harry gently explains, his voice filled with concern. "He's crying, and I have to make sure he's alright."

Marlie's face scrunches up, her brows furrowing in protest. "No, Daddy! Stay and play with me!" she pleads, her voice tinged with disappointment.

Harry sighs, torn between the needs of his two children. He longs to grant Marlie's request, to stay and continue their joyful playtime. However, his paternal instincts compel him to ensure Billie's well-being.

"M’promise, sweetheart, it won't take long," Harry reassures Marlie, trying to ease her disappointment. "I just need to see if Billie needs some comforting. I'll be right back."

With a heavy heart, Harry makes his way to Billie's bassinet, his footsteps filled with a sense of urgency. As he reaches the bassinet, a pungent smell wafts through the air, indicating that Billie's nappy needs changing.

"Oh, baby darling, did y’make a poo?" Harry chuckles softly, carefully lifting Billie into his arms. "Let's get you to the changing table and sort this out."

Carrying Billie over to the changing table nestled in the corner of the room, Harry sets him down gently, his eyes filled with adoration for his newborn son. As he begins the task of changing Billie's nappy, Harry maintains a soothing and comforting tone, engaging in heartfelt conversation with his little bundle of joy.

"Alright, little man, let's get this nappy changed," Harry murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth. "You know, Billie, you have the best big sister in the world. Marlie loves you so much, just like I love my sister, Gemma."

As Harry carefully cleans and wipes, he continues to share stories and whispers of love, creating a bond between father and son. He narrates tales of the adventures Marlie and Billie will embark upon, painting a vivid picture of a future filled with laughter, support, and sibling camaraderie

"You and Marlie are going to be the best of friends," Harry assures Billie, a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. "Just like how Gemma and I have been there for each other through thick and thin, you and Marlie will have a lifelong friendship."

While Harry is engrossed in the intimate interaction with Billie, he remains unaware of Marlie's presence on the floor, her Barbie dolls momentarily forgotten. Tears stream down her face, her heart yearning for her father's undivided attention. She watches as Harry and Billie share this tender moment, her emotions running deep.

Harry carefully fastens a fresh nappy around Billie, stealing a glance at his son's cherubic face. Little does Harry know, the tender moment he shares with Billie coincides with Marlie's emotional outburst, leaving a trail of tears in her wake.

As Harry finishes the nappy change and turns his attention back to the room, he realizes that Marlie is no longer in sight. Concern fills his heart, and he quickly secures Billie in his bassinet, ensuring his comfort and safety. Gently, Harry rocks the bassinet back and forth, using the soothing motion to lull Billie into a peaceful slumber.

Once satisfied that Billie is settled, Harry grabs the baby monitor, clutching it tightly in his hand. With each step, he follows the faint trail of Marlie's sobs, determined to find her and offer the comfort she so desperately needs.

As he steps into the serene garden, the soft breeze rustles the leaves of Marlie's favorite tree. His gaze searches the tranquil space until he spots her huddled beneath the branches, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the golden sunlight. Harry's heart aches at the sight, knowing the depth of her emotions.

Silently, Harry approaches Marlie, his steps careful and deliberate. He takes a moment to compose himself, wanting to offer her solace and reassurance. With a gentle touch, he sits beside her, enveloping her in a warm embrace that conveys his love and understanding.

With a gentle touch, Harry sits beside Marlie under the comforting shade of her favourite tree. He wraps his arm around her trembling shoulders, offering a sense of security and warmth. But as he does, Marlie tries to crawl away, clearly upset with him.

Harry's heart sinks at her attempt to distance herself, understanding the depth of her emotions. "Marlie, m’love," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Y’don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm here, and I'll sit with you."

Silence settles between them as they sit side by side. The tranquillity of the garden envelops them, granting them a moment of respite from the weight of their emotions.

After several minutes, Marlie slowly crawls into Harry's lap, her tiny fingers playing with the cross necklace dangling from his neck. She hesitantly begins to speak, her voice soft and fragile.

"I didn't mean to get upset," Marlie whispers, her eyes cast down.

Harry's hand continues to rub soothingly up and down her back. "It's alright, m’heart. What upset you? Y’can tell me."

Marlie shrugs her shoulders, her words barely audible. "I don't want to be forgotten."

A wave of realisation washes over Harry as he comprehends the root of Marlie's anguish. He holds her tighter, understanding the fear that lingers in her young heart.

"Oh, sweetheart," Harry murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm so sorry if it feels like Billie is taking me and mama away from you. That's not his intention at all, it’s because he’s a baby that he needs a lot of our time, you were like that when you were his size."

Marlie's tears continue to flow as she searches for the right words. "I don't like my baby brother," she confesses, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and confusion. "He keeps taking you away from me."

Harry's heart aches as he absorbs Marlie's words. He continues to hold her, rubbing her back in gentle circles.

"I understand, m’heart," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "When I was born, Aunt Gemma must have felt the same way. But y’know what? Mama and I love both of y’so much. We're going to spend lots of time with both of you, making sure you both feel special."

Marlie looks up at Harry, her tear-stained face searching for reassurance. "Really?"

Harry nods, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Absolutely. Tonight, you can sleep in our bed, and we'll have a special time together. Mama, you, Billie, and me."

And with that promise hanging in the air, the weight of their emotions begins to lift. Harry holds Marlie tightly, hoping to mend the cracks in her tender heart. Under the sheltering embrace of the favourite tree, they sit together, finding solace in their love for one another.

“Now,”Harry pushed some curls away from her face and stared into the matching eyes of his little girl. “How about we go make mama some cupcakes for when she wakes up, just me and you whilst baby brother sleeps?”

Marlie’s eyes lit up, nodding her head as she snuggled her face into the crook of her fathers neck. “Just us?”

“Just us.”

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invisibleicewands · 3 months

Text

Bringing revolution to Port Talbot - by Michael Sheen

On a recent February morning, I woke up to find I was wrong. Not a particularly uncommon experience in itself, but unusual to discover that on this occasion I was being publicly accused of it by the Secretary of State for Business and Trade. “Michael Sheen has said that ‘the people of Port Talbot have been let down’,” Kemi Badenoch wrote in the Daily Mail. “But he is wrong.”

It was a big day. I spent all of last year directing a three-part drama series for the BBC called The Way, which was to air that night. It begins in my hometown of Port Talbot, where a strike at the local steelworks becomes the spark that ignites a violent descent into national chaos. Clearly, Ms Badenoch had been given a sneak peek of the series before forming quite a strong opinion on it. But no: reading her article, Ms Badenoch admits that she hadn’t watched it at all. Why let a total lack of information prevent a full-throated denouncement, eh? Presumably, she also assumes that we managed to write, film and edit the entire series after Tata Steel announced the imminent loss of some 2,500 jobs at the steelworks mere weeks ago.

While the winds of change have only been blowing in one direction for many years, the events in our story were dreamed up some years ago and act as a fictional catalyst for all that follows. Surely even Tory ministers understand there is no VIP fast lane for making a TV series. This isn’t a PPE contract, after all…

Nothing to see here

After that episode aired, it occurred to me that such shenanigans in the right-wing press could have been about a couple of things. Since the ITV drama about the Post Office scandal, Mr Bates vs The Post Office, caused public outrage, I imagine the government has a new fear of the impact a TV show can have. A pre-emptive strike against a series it perceives to be criticising its actions around the steel industry must have seemed a useful tactic. And, having seen Breathtaking – based on Rachel Clarke’s memoir of how the Covid crisis unfolded in the NHS, which aired on ITV the same night as The Way – I wonder if her piece was an attempt to distract attention away from more dangerous territory.

It gave Ms Badenoch a chance to trot out her line about how the people of Port Talbot should be grateful for all that the government is doing to save the steel industry, not moaning about the impact job losses will have on their community. But the people of Port Talbot have been let down, no matter what Ms Badenoch wants us to think. Not by any single entity, but by years of neglect. That she immediately assumed my comments referred to her and her government tells its own story. In the words of a much older drama than mine: the lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Then and Nye

“This crisis is a privateering racket with your friends lining their pockets!” No, not an accusation against Boris Johnson, but something I currently say to Winston Churchill every night. We opened a new play called Nye at the National Theatre this week. I play Aneurin (“Nye”) Bevan, who attacks the prime minister for turning a wartime crisis into a money-making scheme for him and his cronies. It’s one of many moments in the play that seem to speak to past and present at the same time.

The entanglement of “now” and “then” is heightened by the fact that I am wearing pyjamas. Nye is lying unconscious in his hospital bed at the end of his life, and we follow him through a dream of his past. He wanders from childhood memories of overcoming his stutter in Tredegar library to his meteoric rise through local politics, to becoming the youngest member of Clement Attlee’s pioneering postwar cabinet. And, of course, as minister for health, his tumultuous birthing of the NHS on 5 July 1948. It’s an extraordinary, surprising and moving experience telling this story on stage each night. That shared space between actors and audience, where all is felt but unseen, crackles with electricity.

Once more, with feeling

It seems that exploring the motives of politicians, the uses and abuses of political power, and the quest for justice that saw the creation of the NHS taps into deep wells of emotion. Like the pockets of gas that miners feared within the coal seam, their release brings risk and reward. At a recent show, we had three instances of people needing to be helped out of the theatre, the final one forcing us to pause the show moments from its end. Thankfully, it was nothing more serious than someone fainting. But emotions are running high.

I’m more than happy to invite Ms Badenoch to a performance. But I realise, of course, there’s no guarantee she would make it to the end.

#Michael Sheen #The Way #Port Talbot #politics #Nye #the man knows how to write

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

KARMA IS MY BOYFRIEND

cw: jealous reader, flirty atsumu, karma is my boyfriend!!!!!!! karma is the guy on the screen... coming straight home to me!!!!!! ;p karma is atsumu

The public restroom of today’s arena is surprisingly clean.

As MSBY tackles another opponent, you manage to excuse yourself for a moment amid the chaos. Atsumu is still shining on the court, but with his focus on the game and your stealthy escape skills, you know he doesn't notice—let alone mind—your brief absence.

In the tiny confines of the bathroom stall, you can’t help yourself from listening in to the intriguing conversation going on outside.

At first, it’s harmless. If anything, it reminds you of yourself a few years ago. Two girls (you imagine) giggling in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing their hair and retouching their makeup. They have a childlike excitement, one that overflows with the innocence of a fleeting crush. It’s comforting, listening to them blush and swoon over whoever has caught their eye.

“The things I’d do to that man,” one voice dreamily sighs.

Another is quick to chime in, “The things I wish he’d do to me.”

It’s refreshing in a way, listening to them yearn and sigh with one another’s encouragement. It reminds you of your own early stages with Atsumu—the ranting to your friends, the not knowing, the butterflies eating you alive from the inside out. You were once those girls, you get it.

You just can’t help but wonder which player has caught their eye. Bokuto seems to be a fan favorite these days—his contagious energy overflowing throughout every stadium. Sakusa’s decently popular with the ladies too, despite his brooding facade. And Hinata oozes with charisma every time he’s on the screen, so—

“Did you see his last serve? I could think of a few other things he could do with his hands,” the second voice perks up again with a sultry tone.

Your eyebrows furrow at the mention of the recent play and your suspicions are deemed correct when you bring yourself to exit the stall.

You see them—two younger girls, decked out head to toe in MSBY merch and proudly sporting none other than your boyfriend's number on their backs.

They pay no attention to you as you join them by the sink, not knowing who you are, let alone the relationship you hold with the man of their dreams.

“I swear he looked at me the last set,” one of them fans herself in dramatics.

“You think we can meet him if we linger around the stadium for a bit after his match?”

The latter nods, taking one last once over of her appearance before the two of them make their way back through the door and out to the stands.

“Tabloids say he’s a huge flirt, so I’m sure he’ll be looking for something—or someone—to do later.”

The door swings shut and while you’re now alone in the squeaky clean bathroom, you can’t help the dirty jealousy that wrings your aching core. It’s silly. You know it’s silly to be feeling this way, this insecure over something as foolish as locker room talk from someone who doesn't even know Atsumu.

But that insecurity eats you alive, it festers inside of you like an invasive species. Growing as it feasts on your lingering anxiety—it’s easy to work yourself up over such a nonsensical conversation.

Washing your hands and returning to the court, you can only try so hard to swallow back that ugly feeling and put on your bravest face.

When you return, the next set is just coming to an end. You watch Atsumu converse with his teammates, nodding in approval before directing his attention to the sidelines.

He immediately smirks when he catches your eye. Trotting over to the bench, he grabs his water bottle to take a few hefty swigs. With a mouth full of water, he eagerly makes his way over to you.

“Hey, baby,” he coos, still slightly out of breath, “where’d you run off to?”

You can’t help but smile at the question before responding, “Bathroom.”

Atsumu nods as he cautiously takes in your expression. “Havin’ fun so far?” he beams.

Your cheeks flush a bit at his charm, but you bite your tongue in fear of egging on his already giant ego. You soak in his genuine curiosity before muttering a tiny praise of “You’re killing it out there.”

His tongue skims the point of his canine when he laughs smugly at the compliment.

“Keep being nice t’me and m’gonna start thinking you have a crush on me.”

Your boyfriend’s tease has your kissing your teeth. “Never,” you sarcastically scoff.

He uses his jersey to wipe the small beads of sweat forming above his lip, exposing the toned muscles of his abdomen and the way it flexes at the simple action. And you swear it’s not your imagination when you hear two surprised gasps echo from behind you. It burns your chests like a lit match.

On the other hand, Atsumu couldn't care less, eyes never leaving yours as he still catches his breath.

He takes another swig from his water bottle, “What’re we havin’ for dinner tonight?”

Though it’s silly, you’re grateful for his random question. It's genuine, it carries a kind of raw domesticity that those women in the bathroom could never take away from you.

You roll your eyes at the question, before nodding to the court.

“Focus on the game, and then we’ll talk,” you hum in amusement.

Your hand rises to fix the stray hairs damp with sweat spread on his forehead. Atsumu’s eyes flicker closed at your soft touch, one that’s gone far sooner than he’d like, before you're pulling your hand back to your side.

But he catches your wrist before you can fully retreat. Maintaining eye contact, Atsumu places a gentle kiss to your wrist before mumbling against the skin.

“Doesn’t matter,” he assures, sucking a bit on where his lips dance along the bone, “I’m only concerned about what’s for dessert, anyways.”

With a swatting hand and blushing cheeks, you fluster as Atsumu returns to the court with a proud smirk and a special glimmer in his eye.

And it’s in this moment that you realize—people can say whatever they want, because, at the end of the day, Atsumu is always going home with you.

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu haikyuu #atsumu hq

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cool-fancier · 3 months

Text

The Sweet Harmony

Rosé x Fem Reader

Synopsis: In the vibrant streets of Seoul, a rising K-pop soloist and her Blackpink girlfriend navigate secret love at a YSL event until a fan captures their longing glances, sparking viral rumors.

Word Count: 1.9k

The neon lights of Seoul danced across the night sky, casting a vibrant glow over the bustling city streets below. Among the throngs of people, there was an air of excitement as fans eagerly awaited the arrival of their favorite K-pop idols at the YSL event.

Amidst the crowd, you stood, a rising soloist in the K-pop industry, poised and ready to grace the stage. Your heart pounded with anticipation, knowing that tonight's performance would be a pivotal moment in your career.

As the event began, you scanned the room, your eyes searching for a familiar face. And there she was – Rosé, the ethereal member of the world sensation girl group, Blackpink. She stood tall and graceful, the epitome of beauty and elegance, as she mingled with the other ambassadors for YSL.

Despite the excitement of being in the same room as your girlfriend, you knew that you had to maintain a professional facade. After all, your relationship with Rosé was a closely guarded secret, known only to a select few.

"Y/N, are you ready?" your manager asked, breaking you out of your reverie.

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face as you prepared to take the stage. But as you made your way through the crowd, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Rosé, hoping to catch her eye.

For a brief moment, your gazes locked, and you felt a surge of warmth spread through you. But just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and you turned away, steeling yourself for the performance ahead.

As you took the stage, the roar of the crowd enveloped you, their cheers and applause washing over you like a tidal wave. With each note you sang, you poured your heart and soul into the music, losing yourself in the rhythm and melody.

But amidst the chaos of the performance, your thoughts kept drifting back to Rosé. You couldn't shake the image of her from your mind, her radiant smile etched into your memory.

After the performance, you retreated backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. And there she was – Rosé, waiting for you with a smile that could light up the darkest night.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft and gentle as she approached you. "You were amazing up there."

You returned her smile, feeling a surge of happiness at the sight of her. "Thanks," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

As the two of you exchanged pleasantries, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing wash over you. It pained you to keep your relationship with Rosé a secret, but you knew that it was necessary to protect both of your careers.

But as you looked into Rosé's eyes, you knew that every moment spent with her was worth the risk.

1. 🌹 Our beautiful Rosé slaying at the YSL event! 🌹 #Rosé #Blackpink #YSL

2. 🌹 Rosé's stunning YSL gown has us all in awe! 🌹 #FashionIcon #Rosé #Blackpink #YSL

3. 🌹 Can we take a moment to appreciate Rosé's ethereal beauty? 🌹 #Goddess #Rosé #Blackpink #YSL

@Blink4Life: OMG, Rosé looks absolutely breathtaking at the YSL event! 😍 That dress, that smile – she's perfection! 🌹 #Rosé #Blackpink #YSL

@RoseanneFever: I can't get over how effortlessly stunning Rosé looks tonight! 😭❤️ That YSL gown was made for her! 🌹 #FashionQueen #Rosé #Blackpink #YSL

@RoseGoldie: Rosé is glowing like a goddess at the YSL event! ✨ Can't wait to see her slay the stage! 🌹 #Rosé #Blackpink #YSL

1. 🎤 Y/N captivates the audience with her mesmerizing performance at the YSL event! 🌟 #YNSoloist #YSL

2. 🎤 Our soloist shines bright like a star on the YSL stage! ✨ #Talent #YNSoloist #YSL

3. 🎤 Y/N's vocals are out of this world at the YSL event! 🌌 #VocalPowerhouse #YNSoloist #YSL

@YNForever: Y/N's performance at the YSL event gave me goosebumps! 😭🙌 Her voice is pure magic! 🎤✨ #YNSoloist #YSL

@YNEnthusiast: Y/N never fails to leave me speechless with her incredible talent! 🌟 Can't wait to see what she does next! 🎶 #YNSoloist #YSL

@YNGalaxy: Y/N's vocals are out of this world! 🚀✨ Truly a force to be reckoned with! 🎤 #YNSoloist #YSL

@YRShipper: Okay, but can we talk about the chemistry between Y/N and Rosé at the YSL event? 🔥 They would make the ultimate power couple! 🌟 #YNSoloist #Rosé #YSL

@RYSunshine: Y/N and Rosé's interactions at the YSL event have me shipping them so hard! 🥺❤️ Can they please collaborate on a song together? 🎶 #YNSoloist #Rosé #YSL

@YRUniverse: Y/N and Rosé are the definition of perfection! 😍 The way they complement each other is just *chef's kiss*! 👌 #YNSoloist #Rosé #YSL

— — — — — — —

Months passed, and your relationship with Rosé flourished in secret. Despite the challenges of dating in the public eye, the two of you found solace in each other's company, stealing moments of intimacy whenever you could.

But as your fame continued to rise, so did the pressure to keep your relationship hidden. And nowhere was this more apparent than at public events, where you and Rosé were forced to maintain a professional distance from each other.

One such event was the annual YSL gala, where you and Rosé were once again ambassadors for the brand. As you arrived at the venue, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over you.

"Remember, no public displays of affection," your manager reminded you as you stepped out of the car.

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in as you made your way inside. The venue was filled with the glitterati of the K-pop industry, all vying for attention and recognition.

And there she was – Rosé, radiant as ever in a stunning YSL gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. She caught your eye from across the room, a subtle smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Despite the thrill of seeing her, you knew that you had to maintain a professional facade. So you plastered a smile on your face and mingled with the other guests, all the while keeping a careful eye on Rosé.

But as the night wore on, you found it increasingly difficult to ignore her. Her presence was like a magnet, drawing you in with an irresistible force.

And then it happened – you couldn't help but glance at her, just for a moment, when you thought no one was looking. But someone was – a fan, with their phone out, capturing the moment for all the world to see.

The next day, the internet was abuzz with rumors of your secret relationship with Rosé. Fans had edited the footage of your glance into adorable and viral edits, speculating about the true nature of your relationship.

As the news spread like wildfire, you and Rosé found yourselves thrust into the spotlight in a way you had never experienced before. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know the truth – were you and Rosé really a couple?

@YSLYooopnRosie: "Did anyone else catch that moment between Y/N and Rosé at the YSL gala? My heart can't handle the chemistry between them! 😍 #YSLYoonRosie"

@YSLYoonRos: "I swear, every time Y/N and Rosé are in the same room, the sparks fly! They would make the perfect couple, don't you think? 🌟 #YSLYoonRosie"

@YSLYoonRosie: "I'm not saying Y/N and Rosé are in love, but... okay, maybe I am. Just imagine how beautiful their relationship would be! 🥺💕 #YSLYoonRosie"

@YSklLYoonRosie: "Okay, hear me out – I've been scrolling through Y/N and Rosé's Instagram feeds, and I swear, there are so many subtle hints that they might be more than just friends. From matching outfits to cryptic captions, I think they're low-key dropping hints about their relationship! 🕵️‍♀️💖 #YSLYoonRosie"

@YSLYoonRosie: "I've been doing some serious detective work, and I'm convinced that Y/N and Rosé have been dating in secret for ages. Remember that time they both posted Instagram stories from the same location, but at different times? Coincidence? I think not! 🔍👀 #YSLYoonRosie"

@YSLYoonRosie: "I've been following Y/N and Rosé's interactions for years, and let me tell you, there's something going on between them. From stolen glances to subtle touches, it's clear that their friendship goes way beyond the surface. Could they be the next power couple? 🤔💕 #YSLYoonRosie"

— — — — — — —

As the rumors continued to swirl, you and Rosé found yourselves faced with a choice – continue to deny the truth or finally come clean about your relationship.

For weeks, you wrestled with the decision, weighing the potential consequences of going public against the freedom of being able to love each other openly.

But in the end, love won out.

One evening, as you and Rosé sat together in the privacy of your shared apartment, you broached the subject.

"Rosé, I think it's time," you said, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in your stomach.

She looked at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, reaching out to take her hand in yours. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest.

With that, you and Rosé made the decision to go public with your relationship, knowing full well the risks that it entailed. But you were determined to face whatever challenges came your way together, united in your love for each other.

The next day, you and Rosé made the announcement on social media, posting a heartfelt message about your journey together and the importance of love and acceptance.

The response from fans was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. Rather than hate, there was an outpouring of love and support for you and Rosé, with fans expressing their joy at finally being able to celebrate your relationship openly.

As you scrolled through the countless messages and comments, a sense of relief washed over you. You and Rosé had made the right decision, and now, you could finally be free to love each other without fear or reservation.

And as you looked at Rosé, her eyes shining with happiness and love, you knew that your journey together was only just beginning.

Together, you and Rosé had faced adversity and come out stronger on the other side. And now, as you embarked on this new chapter of your lives together, you knew that there was nothing that could stand in the way of your love.

For you and Rosé, the future was bright – and together, you were ready to face whatever challenges came your way, hand in hand, heart in heart.

@YnRHarmipugny: "I can't believe it's finally happening! Y/N and Rosé are out and proud, and my heart is bursting with happiness! 🌈✨ #YRHarmony"

@YRHarmonyuyy: "From secret glances to public declarations of love, Y/N and Rosé's journey is like something straight out of a romance novel! I'm living for this! 💖😍 #YRHarmony"

@YRHarmony: "Y/N and Rosé are proof that love knows no bounds! Their journey from secret glances to public declarations of love is giving me all the feels! 🥺💖 #YRHarmony"

@YRoseHarmony: "Y/N and Rosé are the power couple we never knew we needed! Their love is like a breath of fresh air in a world filled with negativity. Here's to forever shipping #YRHarmony!"

@YRuioHutarmony: "I don't know what's brighter – the smile on Y/N and Rosé's faces or the sparkle in their eyes! They're radiating so much happiness, and I'm here for it! ✨😊 #YRHarmony"

@YRHarmony: "Y/N and Rosé coming out as a couple is the best thing to happen in 2024! Their love story is straight out of a fairy tale, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for them! 🥰👑 #YRHarmony"

#blackpink x reader #blackpink x fem reader #blackpink #blackpink x fem #blackpink x you #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #rosé x reader #rosé fluff #rosé #rosé blackpink #park chaeyoung

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jackles010378 · 5 months

Text

Saturday night special

(Jensen Ackles x you)

When Jensen over hears you singing, he works out a way to get to sing with you in front of a live crowd......

Y/n stood amidst the chaos that was the aftermath of yet another supernatural convention. As always, she found herself tasked with the duty of cleaning up the mess left behind by the boisterous crowd. Armed with a trash bag and a broom, she went about her work. But this time, something was different.

Lost in her own world of melodies, Y/n had her trusty headphones on, with her favorite tunes blasting through them. She was singing along to the music, oblivious to the world around her. Her voice resonated through the empty halls as she danced, completely absorbed in the joy of the music.

Unbeknownst to her, Jensen Ackles her favourite actor had returned to the convention center to retrieve his wallet he had absentmindedly left in the green room. As he approached the door to the green room, he heard a voice that captivated him. He followed the sound, drawn to the angelic tones that filled the air.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, Jensen was stunned to find Y/n there, sweeping the floor while pouring her heart into the lyrics. Unable to tear his gaze away, he marveled at the raw emotion in her voice. It was a moment of vulnerability that struck a chord in his own heart. She was singing one of his band's songs, "Ain't no tellin" if he could hear it right. He stood there, continuing to watch through the gap in the door as she finished the song,

Knowin' you see me

When I'm 'round the way

Just remember

It'll be alright

And if it's only

Stealing another day

Well then find another time along the way

And ask yourself

Who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Tell me, who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Who are you holding onto now?

Ohh yeah

There ain't no tellin' no

Far away

Every night and every day.....

Jensen let the door close slowly and softly so you wouldn't hear it and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Dialling a number as he walked away the person the other end answered "hey Cliff, I'm gonna need you to do some detective work for me" he said with the biggest smile on his face.

The following night, during the highly anticipated Saturday night concert, Jensen whispered to his co-star and friend, Rob Benedict. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he shared his desire to sing with Y/n. Rob's eyes twinkled with excitement as he agreed to help set up the surprise performance.

As the concert reached its peak, Rob made an announcement to the crowd, his voice filled with anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight. Our very own Jensen Ackles will be gracing the stage with a special guest!"

Y/n, who had been enjoying the concert from the sidelines, felt a mixture of surprise and nervousness as she realized all eyes were on her. Y/n was never usually allowed to watch the concerts, with her just being a cleaner she never had the same perks as the other staff that were around to help, but tonight her manager asked for her to be present in the main hall just in case of any mishaps. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and turned to find Rob smiling mischievously, pointing towards Jensen who stood on stage, microphone in hand.

Her heart raced in her chest as Jensen extended his hand, his eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. A shy smile adorned Y/n's face as she mustered the courage to take his hand. With a mix of elation and trepidation, she found herself walking towards the stage, feeling the weight of the crowd's anticipation.

As the lights dimmed and the spotlight shone upon them, Y/n and Jensen shared a moment. The beginning chords of Shallow echoed throughout the room as y/n recognised the song. As small smile graced her lips as this was a favourite of hers. She stood in awe, watching as Jensen sang.

Realising it was her turn she took a deep breath. The crowd went silent as her voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls. The entire room fell silent as she sang, Jensen standing by her side listening to her as if it was the first time he had heard her. Thinking back to the moment he stumbled upon her first time round. He thanked himself for leaving his wallet in the green room that night.

The chemistry between them was electric, their voices resonating through the venue, captivating the hearts of everyone present.

In that enchanting moment, Y/n's shyness melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. She realized that sometimes, it's in the moments of vulnerability that our true talents shine brightest. The crowd erupted in applause, their voices melding with Y/n and Jensen's, creating an atmosphere of pure magic.

From that night on, Y/n embraced her musical talents with newfound confidence. Her collaboration with Jensen became the stuff of legends, their duets continuing to captivate supernatural conventions for years to come. Jensen would always see if she was available to sing with him when he returned and she'd always say yes.

As she stepped off that stage that night, she knew that sometimes, the most extraordinary moments in life happen when we let go of your fears and take a leap of faith.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck

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xtra7s · 4 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

pairing: Renee Rapp x reader

Synopsis: Renee Rapp finds herself being forced to co-write with her popstar enemy, Y/N YL/N.

content: none

word count: 2500+

masterlist

Sunlight, pale and watery, peeked through Renee's eyelids, coaxing them open. She groaned, squinting at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam, momentarily lost before memory slammed back, a tidal wave of yesterday's chaos. The sold-out show, the encore that bled into the early hours, the post-show whirlwind of sweaty hugs and hoarse thank yous.

She sat up, wincing at the way her muscles protested, stretched languidly like a sun-drenched cat. Her apartment, usually alive with the echoes of guitar strings and her own humming, was blessedly quiet. She savored the stillness, reveling in the luxury of an unscheduled morning.

Coffee first, always coffee. Slipping into a faded black tee and ripped sweatpants, Renee padded into the kitchen, the familiar ritual grounding her. The hiss of the espresso machine, the frothy gurgle of milk, all a symphony of caffeine-fueled peace. She curled up on the window seat, mug cradled in her hands, watching the city wake up beneath a veil of mist.

The day unfurled with the lazy elegance of a catnap. She strummed aimlessly on her guitar, chords bleeding into each other like watercolor paints. A melody hummed beneath her breath, hesitant at first, then soaring with newfound confidence. Words followed, tumbling out like spilled secrets, raw and vulnerable. This one, she knew, wouldn't be for the stage. This one was for her, etched in the quiet of her living room, sunlight painting gold across her notebook pages.

Mid-verse, the phone buzzed, pulling her back from the daydream landscape. It was Adam, her manager, his voice a staccato counterpoint to the slow tempo of her morning. "Hey, sleepyhead. Get that caffeine flowing, you've got a meeting in an hour."

Renee blinked the edges of her daydream blurring. "A meeting? With who?"

"Surprise," Adam purred, a mischievous glint in his voice. "Just be at the office by noon, looking fierce. Trust me, this is good."

The call ended, leaving behind a delicious cocktail of curiosity and apprehension. Adam rarely sprung surprises, preferring the well-worn path of meticulous planning. A quick peek at her calendar confirmed the blankness of the day, a testament to his clandestine maneuver. Renee, intrigued, finished her coffee with newfound urgency.

A quick shower scrubbed away the remnants of sleep and yesterday's glitter. Jeans replaced sweatpants, and a vintage band tee swapped for a sleek silk cropped tank. She threw on a leather jacket, its worn patina contrasting the delicate silver chain around her neck. A flick of mascara, a touch of rouge, and voila, Renee was ready for whatever mystery Max had cooked up.

The subway ride was a whirlwind of crumpled newspapers and hurried goodbyes. The city buzzed outside the windows, a symphony of car horns and sirens that somehow managed to be lullaby familiar. Renee tapped her foot against the worn floor, an impatient rhythm against the steady rumble of the train.

Adam's office, on the top floor of a sleek glass tower, felt as controlled as its occupant. He sat behind a minimalist desk, a tablet gleaming like a black mirror in his hands. "Well, look who graced us with her presence," he drawled, a sharkish grin lighting up his face.

"Alright, spill it," Renee demanded, settling into the plush leather chair opposite him. She took off her jacket and rested it on the chair, "Who's the mystery meeting with?"

Adam smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Ready for the real kicker, Blondie?" He reached for his tablet, tapping the screen with a flourish. "Your writing partner for these demos? None other than the one and only..."

The name that flashed on the screen froze Renee's blood. Y/N YL/N. The girl who seemed to embody everything Renee wasn't – polished, perfect, and seemingly born with a platinum record tucked behind each earlobe.

Their paths had crossed a few times – an awkward introduction at an awards show, a tense exchange at a music industry party – and each encounter had felt like navigating a minefield. Y/N’s icy smile and razor-sharp wit felt like a personal affront, a constant reminder of everything Renee felt insecure about.

The news hit her like a rogue wave. Collaborating with Y/N? Writing songs together? It was like asking a firefly to tango with a scorpion. The very idea sent shivers down her spine, a delicious blend of dread and fascination.

"You're joking, right?" Renee's voice was a tight whisper, her fingers twisting in her lap.

Adam chuckled, but there was a glint of steel in his eyes. "Nope. Word on the street is that Y/N's been looking for a songwriting partner with some... grit. Apparently, her last collaborator couldn't handle the 'diva act.'" He raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him.

Renee squared her shoulders, a spark of defiance lighting in her eyes. "Challenge accepted," she declared, her voice steadier than she felt. "Let's see who the real diva is when we're both spitting shit in a recording booth."

The Hollywood dream suddenly felt a lot less glamorous and a lot more like stepping into a coliseum, armed only with a guitar and a stubborn sense of self. Writing songs with Y/N was going to be hell, but maybe, just maybe, it would also be the spark that ignited something extraordinary, both on the record and within herself.

As Adam slid a glass of champagne into her hand, the city lights outside the window seemed to wink, beckoning her towards a future both terrifying and thrilling. The Renee Rapp show was just getting started, and her first act was facing her demons, head-on and harmony-filled.

"Alright, Renee," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. "Y/N's on her way to the studio right now. Time to go meet your new best friend."

Renee swallowed hard, the champagne suddenly turning to vinegar in her stomach. "Right," she croaked, forcing a smile. "Studio. Collaboration. Teamwork."

Adam raised an eyebrow, his sharkish grin widening. "More like controlled chaos, but hey, that's where the magic happens, right?" He winked, then tossed her black leather jacket to her. "Go get 'em, tiger. Show her what Renee Rapp's made of."

The city stretched out before her, a concrete jungle pulsating with possibility and peril. Grabbing a taxi, Renee sped towards the studio, her thoughts churning like a washing machine on a spin cycle. Would Y/N be the ice queen she always appeared to be, or was there something more beneath the polished surface? Could they possibly navigate the choppy waters of songwriting together, or would their egos collide in a spectacular, public shipwreck?

The studio, nestled in the heart of Hollywood, hummed with creative energy. The air crackled with the sound of guitars being tuned, drumsticks tapping impatiently, and voices warming up scales. Renee took a deep breath, stepping into the dimly lit control room where Angela waited, her music producer, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"She's in booth two," she said, pointing towards a soundproofed glass box.

Renee nodded, her heart pounding a primal rhythm against her ribs. She pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the booth like a gladiator entering the arena. There, bathed in the soft glow of studio lights, sat Y/N YL/N.

For a moment, the world held its breath. The two rivals were locked in a silent standoff, their past encounters casting long shadows across the room. Then, a slow smile spread across Y/N's face, a smirk that was equal parts of challenge and intrigue.

"Renee Rapp," she drawled, her voice like honeyed poison. "Fancy seeing you here."

Renee met her gaze, her own smile steely and determined. "Yeah yeah, Y/N," she replied. "Let's get to work."

And so, the unlikely collaboration began. Two voices, so different yet somehow destined to intertwine, filled the studio with the raw energy of unspoken feelings and unbridled talent. The air crackled with tension, with unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Yet, as their fingers danced across guitars and their voices blended in unexpected harmonies, a spark ignited.

It was a dance on the edge of a volcano, fueled by equal parts animosity and grudging respect. They challenged each other and pushed each other to their limits, their voices soaring and crashing like waves against the rocks.

Frustration hung heavy in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Hours had bled by, filled with discarded melodies and half-written verses, with the tantalizing promise of a song just out of reach. Renee strummed her guitar listlessly, the chords echoing the emptiness in her mind.

Y/N sat across from her, perched on a stool, her usually immaculate hair mussed, dark circles smudging the corners of her eyes. The polished veneer of her persona had peeled away, revealing the vulnerability beneath. For the first time, Renee saw her not as a rival, but as another artist struggling with the same demons.

A sudden change in Renee's strumming caught Y/N's attention. Her head snapped up, eyes locking with Renee's, who seemed unaware of the shift. Her fingers danced across the strings, weaving a melody that was both raw and captivating. Renee's lips moved silently, forming words that hung in the air like wisps of smoke.

"You say that I'm your favorite," she hummed, her voice low and husky, "With your hand between my thighs."

Y/N's breath hitched, a shiver dancing down her spine. The lyrics, raw and unapologetic, cut through the tension like a knife. This wasn't the sugary pop Y/N was known for; this was something darker, something more real.

Renee's eyes fluttered open, meeting Y/N's gaze with a newfound intensity. The air crackled with electricity, a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

"Tell me if you were gonna," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "That I would be the one you tried."

Y/N watched, hypnotized, as Renee mumbled a few more lyrics before shaking her head. The raw lyrics, sung with smoky confidence, peeled back layer after layer of the facade Renee typically projected. Y/N noticed things she'd never observed before - the flecks of gold in Renee's blue eyes that sparked with each line, the way her nose crinkled adorably when she concentrated, and the subtle curve of her jaw that spoke of hidden strength.

The song, a shared confession, had cracked open Y/N's carefully constructed shell, revealing a tangle of emotions she'd kept buried for years. Her gaze traced the line of Renee's neck, the pulse fluttering beneath the delicate skin, and a shiver ran down Y/N's spine.

The air crackled with a charged silence. Y/N's walls, once brick and mortar, were now mere cobblestones, tumbling into disarray. She met Renee's eyes, her own unguarded and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the icy color they usually held.

"That..." Y/N's voice was a mere whisper, "That was something else, Renee."

Renee, sensing the shift, offered a tentative smile. "It was," she agreed, her voice husky.

There, in the dimly lit studio, their rivalry seemed to melt away, replaced by a fragile understanding, a whispered promise of shared vulnerability. They stepped out into the dawn, the first rays of sunlight painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. It was a new beginning, a blank canvas upon which they could paint a masterpiece of collaboration.

But as they left the studio and the magic of the music faded, Y/N's walls began to rebuild, brick by metaphorical brick. The vulnerability

evaporated, replaced by the familiar mask of cold detachment. Her back straightened, her gaze sharpened, and a familiar smirk played on her lips.

"Alright, Renee," she drawled, her voice tinged with her usual icy edge. "Hit me up tomorrow, I'll come over and we can continue writing."

Renee blinked, startled by the sharp shift. She nodded as the warmth of their shared moment had dissolved, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. But something had changed. Renee saw a flicker of the woman beneath the ice queen, a glimpse of the vulnerability Y/N had so briefly unveiled.

The game had changed, indeed. Renee knew the road ahead would be paved with challenges, with Y/N's barbed wit and ruthless ambition a constant obstacle. But she also knew that, hidden beneath the layers of frost, there was a fire in Y/N that could be kindled. The melody they had forged together, raw and honest, was proof. And that, in itself, was a victory.

The rivalry was far from over, but now, it danced with a hint of something else, something unspoken and intriguing. Renee met Y/N's gaze, a new challenge glinting in her own eyes.

Renee stumbled out of the studio, eyelids drooping and nerves buzzing. Sleep, usually a welcome sanctuary, seemed elusive tonight. The image of Y/N's walls rebuilding, brick by icy brick, replayed in her mind, a discordant note against the echo of their raw collaboration.

She drifted into her apartment, the silence pressing against her like a suffocating wave. The ukulele leaned against the wall, untouched, yearning for the warmth of her fingers. Instead, she gravitated towards her trusty guitar, its familiar weight grounding her in the chaos of her emotions.

Her fingers danced across the strings, returning to the notes she played in the studio, a way to translate the tangled mess in her head. The chords came hesitantly at first, a tentative whisper, then gathering momentum like a gathering storm. Her voice, raw and unfiltered, filled the quiet room, weaving a tapestry of unspoken desires and lingering questions.

"In the PM, all the pretty girls," she crooned, "They have a couple drinks, all the pretty girls."

The lyric hung in the air, heavy with both longing and self-awareness. Was it her own reflection she saw in those words, the girl in the mirror seeking solace in the fleeting comfort of company? Or was it Y/N, a glimpse beneath the polished surface, a yearning for something just beyond her reach?

"So now, they wanna kiss all the pretty girls," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "They got to have a taste of a pretty girl."

The melody soared, achingly beautiful, and laced with a bittersweet truth. The game they played, the unspoken tension between them, was it just a desperate grasp for connection in a world of curated personas? Or was there something more, something simmering beneath the veneer of rivalry?

She strummed the final chord, letting the silence settle like a soft snowfall. The lyrics etched onto the page in messy scrawl, seemed to hold the answer to a question she hadn't even dared to ask. Tonight, the lines between artist and subject had blurred, Renee revealing not just melodies but a sliver of her own soul.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped into bed, the image of Y/N's eyes, both guarded and curious, dancing behind her eyelids. Sleep, at last, brought its welcome embrace, but within its depths, another song was stirring, waiting to be born. In the morning, with the city streets shimmering beneath the sunrise, Renee knew the game had just begun.

The melodies they created, confessions hidden in plain sight, would be their currency, their battle cries, their whispered promises. Whether it led to harmony or heartbreak, one thing was certain: the world they were about to create, together, would be unlike anything anyone had ever heard.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #lesbian #wlw #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls

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smuttysabina · 1 year

Text

Motherhood, with Jihyo

(Male Reader x Jihyo, 1900 words) Pregnancy, pregnant sex, milk, creampies, Mommy fetish, motherhood.

Jihyo has always been a "Mommy". Her voluptuous curves, her stern yet nurturing nature, her kindly face, her charismatic domination, her enormous breasts; all of these factors helped to define Jihyo's maternal inclinations. But after getting impregnated by Once, these inclinations have blossomed into something that transcends common motherhood. Jihyo is no longer simply a Mommy, she is The Mommy of Idols, the undisputed matriarch of breeding and love. Along with a boost to her charisma, pregnancy has bestowed upon her physical gifts as well. Her already capacious breasts have swollen even larger to accommodate the milk being produced within them. Her toned body has been sheathed in a fresh layer of flesh to fuel the new life within her, rounding out her curves in a most attractive manner. And of course, her toned belly has swollen outwards, bulging from beneath her breasts as it nurtures the child within her. Taken all together, Jihyo now resembles an ancient fertility goddess, benevolent and beautiful, filled with desire and love...

Like all idols, Jihyo has a depthless sex drive, a gaping abyss of desire fueled by the constant acclimation she receives. Unlike many of her ilk though, Jihyo effectively channels her lust into her ambitions and beliefs, making her a superb leader in dance and song as well as in ah, breeding. Like all idols, Jihyo's natural instincts and fetishes have been blown all out of proportion by her condition; resulting in a perverse affection towards impregnation. Due to the more, benign direction of her sensuality, it is rarely noticeable aside from an implacable insistence on creampies. Jihyo is not a whore-goddess like Jennie, indifferent atop a mountain of drained fans as she mechanically fucks them into unconsciousness. This restraint has kept her fellow members of Twice in check as well, if their leader is not visibly outrageous in slaking her lusts on stage, how can they be? Not that Twice is not riven with degenerate fetishes, merely that they keep them more subdued far better than other groups.

So it is a crisis then, that as Jihyo's belly swells ever larger, so does her sexual appetites. Her pregnancy has driven her nearly mad with lust, and it is all Twice can do to keep their beloved leader from doing something... drastic. And no, getting bred on live tv by nearly a thousand fans is nothing to get excited about; its positively banal compared to Rose pegging a government official during her speech before the public. Thus, Twice feed an ever growing river of fans into Jihyo's room, desperately throwing bodies at the problem in the hope that she will be satisfied until birth. All the while though, they worry about their own condition, soon all of them will follow suit and get knocked up by Once. And when that happens, Twice will become insatiable... but perhaps Jihyo will discover a solution to the coming cataclysm. The girls can only hope that their leader will save them once more; but until then, Jihyo continues to fuck with all the virility of a young mother.

An atmosphere of panic fills the Twice suites, staff hurrying everywhere, the girls directing the chaos with barely restrained hysteria; Jihyo has awaken from her slumber and requires... entertainment. All around you a febrile stir of lust passes through the fans gathered for today's session, all of you keen to experience Jihyo's motherly love. Through the grace of God (Jihyo), you have managed to secure a place at the front of the line, and are more than a little excited to make love to her unsullied sex. Jihyo's bedroom door suddenly slams open and Chaeyoung staggers out, her cheeks ballooning as she hurries over to a potted plant were she noisily voids her stomach. Nayeon and Momo rush over to comfort her, and from what you can hear Chae was forced to gorge upon her leader's pussy, drowning in her squirt and turgid cum until her stomach was filled to bursting. Momo courageously flings herself through the door to buy her compatriots time to organize the fans into proper order for upcoming gangbang. Nayeon dashes to you, dragging you towards the bedroom with unseemly haste, her eyes wide with terror as she gabbles unclear instructions. Then you are practically flung through the doorway, and finally encounter her.

Jihyo is radiant, everything you could possibly dream of. Her breasts hang heavy over her swollen belly, her thick nipples dark and erect, her thighs curve seductively to support a staggeringly large ass. Every inch of her is sheened with sweat and oil, accentuating her beautiful skin and giving her a softly radiant glow. A dark, tangled path of hair shrouds her pussy, already soaked through with heady juices. Even the scent of her is enough to send your reproductive system into overdrive, your hind-brain blaring at you that the woman before you is fertile. Jihyo wears a sweet, welcoming smile with ease, wordlessly inviting you to spend your virile seed inside of her again and again until you are drained... As you move to embrace Jihyo, your eyes flicker to the side of the bed, where Momo sprawls; ass in the air, a truly gargantuan dildo juddering in her pussy. As she hugs you tightly, Jihyo discretely tosses her blanket over her fellow Twice member; there's no need to worry about Momo, just focus on Mommy...

Your tongue wrestles with Jihyo's as she slowly maneuvers you towards the bed, caressing her inflated belly and groping her hefty breasts. With a sudden bump, she collapses backwards onto the bed, already opening her legs wide in anticipation of your rigid manhood. Faced with such an alluring proposition, you don't bother with any more foreplay, and simply plunge yourself into her. Jihyo's pussy is soaking wet. Her slick, sticky juices tenaciously cling to your cock, providing you with euphoric lubrication as you fuck her. Any idol can get wet, but Jihyo is positively dripping all over your cock, smearing your balls with her creamy fluids, thrilling your cock with exotic sensations. Motherhood truly becomes of her, so it is only natural that you moan her true vocation to her as you fuck her. Jihyo herself gasps with pleasure as her pussy devours your cock, reveling in pleasure as your hands grasp her swollen belly for leverage. The sloshing noises reach a crescendo as you increase your pace before orgasm, before subsiding to slow loud meaty slaps as you climax. Both you and Jihyo groan as your thick seed spews into her, coating her pussy in another layer of murky cream.

It seems a profane disservice to pull out of Jihyo, but at her urging you allow your cock to feel the cold kiss of the bedroom's air once more. But your dick is not kept cool for long; rolling onto her side to support her weighty belly, Jihyo motions you towards her flush lips. You happily comply, letting Mommy slurp your conjoined juices off of your shaft with startling enthusiasm, lowering yourself until you are parallel on the bed beside her. Gradually, you find yourself on your back, while Jihyo works your cock until it is once more stiff at attention. With a dreamy look, she scoots forward until her breasts engulf your entire dick, smothering them in warm, soft flesh. Squishing them together, Jihyo kneads her boobs as she uses them to stroke you, until tiny pearls of liquid weep from her nipples. You sigh with pleasure as Jihyo uses her milk to lubricate your tittyfuck, your tip now bright red when it peeks out from between her tits. Spotting this, she promptly latches her mouth around your cockhead, her cheeks hollowing even as she relentlessly uses her breasts to massage your length. Your second load fountains directly into Jihyo's mouth, filling it with such quantities of seed that she is forced to swallow twice.

But Jihyo is not done with you yet, pulling herself atop you she kisses her way up to your face. She grinds her soggy crotch against your own, eager to receive your long hard love once more. Her heavy breaths moisten your neck, as she urges you to get it up once more for her, to get it hard again for Mommy. Combined with the aphrodisiacal fluids marinating your cock, Jihyo's entreaties allow your manhood to make one last heroic stand; defying your mortal limitations for the goddess atop you. Who in appreciation of your efforts, will do the draining without taxing your already exhausted body. Leaning back, Jihyo moves your cock along her sodden sex, your tip hidden within her bush and she massages it with her folds. Then, to your surprise, she moves it even further back, and promptly sits on your cock, burying it within her ass. You nearly cum from sheer excitement, Jihyo's anus is far tighter than her pussy, rapaciously forcing you deep inside of her with every thrust. She bounces atop you, the child within her adding extra heft to her ride, slamming against you remorselessly. Such is the force of Jihyo's fucking that her pussy lips open themselves, revealing to you the pulsing pink hole you so recently were plowing. Jihyo uses one hand to balance herself, while the other plays with her hair, before descending to massage her leaking breasts. With an animalistic grunt, Jihyo cums around your cock, her coils clenching tight around you as she leaks all over your chest. Now her ride is punctuated by wet slapping sounds that reverberate around the room, an announcement to all of your lovemaking abilities. It is all too much for you; your balls mightily exert themselves one final time, depleting your last reserves of sperm to impregnate Jihyo's infertile guts. Who only stops her steady bounces when your flaccid cock flops out of her vice-like asshole, she pouts down at you, surely you have more for Mommy...?

Jihyo lowers herself down onto you, wide ass in the air, resuming her motherly blowjob as she encourages you to rise to the occasion once more. But your cock is utterly spent, shriveling within her mouth even as her suction grows ever more stringent. You are rescued from a horrible fate by the sudden arrival of another fan, who plunges within Jihyo's exposed pussy without warning. She groans at the unexpected pleasure, forgetting about you for a moment as she enjoys the raw heat building within her belly. Strong hands yank you off of the bed, Momo's strained face fills your vision as she pulls you to safety. She drags you through a back door, into a room filled with cots and stocked with enough supplies to satisfy an army. Dahyun glances up from a couch where she was busy cleaning her nails, an eyebrow cocked in elegant bemusement. Which quickly turns to dismay as Momo collapses beside you, messily extruding the massive vibrator still within her pussy with a gush of fluids. Dahyun gingerly tends to her fallen group member, ignoring you entirely until her friend has been taken care of. Only then does she drag you onto a bed, before giving you a speculative glance. You know, Dahyun does have some aphrodisiac laying around if you want to... Oh never mind, you're about to pass out anyways...

#kpop smut #twice jihyo #Twice smut #jihyo smut

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) (Steddie X You)

A/N: Like I said last week, I was watching the music video for "Queen of the Night" by Whitney Houston from the soundtrack of this movie and it gave me this Steddie idea.

I have a few ideas I can take this! I seriously love protective Steddie. Probably something to do with my PTSD and need to feel safe lol Anyway... I hope you enjoy it! I dedicate this to @unfocused81 <3

Warnings: No smut (yet😈) but angst for sure. Security Steddie and Singer female reader. It is mentioned that Y/N does drink excessively and do drugs. Her boyfriend is a douchebag and assaults her (mentions of smacking and grabbing her, yelling at her, and calling her names) that results in Steddie intervening. There is also a bit of a riot at one of shows that they protect her from (kind of like that scene in the movie where people jump on stage and chaos ensues).

I wouldn't really call this dark themes but reader definitely has some things going on and is struggling a lot right now.

Work count: 5906

“What kind of security work have you guys done before?”

Your manager leans against the outside of his desk as he continues to scan through the messages on his phone.

“Oh, um, we’ve done a lot before for the bar in our town and most recently a rock band in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, the manager cuts Steve off as he speaks. “That’s all well and good. Look, I’m going to level with you. This is essentially expensive babysitting. Y/N is a handful. Our last security detail quit when her last party at her house caused a riot in the streets of LA.”

“A riot?”, Eddie turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

The guy sets his phone down, sighing with impatience. “Yes. Obviously, you two don’t read or watch the news…which is good. Saves me the headache. Now, do you want the job or not?”

Both boys glance at each other before looking towards the man again. “Um, yeah sure. I mean it pays, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Ok, she’s at the studio downstairs right now recording…or at least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. Go introduce yourselves. Glad to have you aboard.”, he rolls his eyes as he shoos them out of his office.

“Steve are you sure about this?”, Eddie asks as they head for the elevator.

“Yeah. Come on, Munson. This is our ticket to high-rate clients and more money! We can handle one little girl.”

As soon as they get off on the right floor, they are met with extremely loud music and giggles from the studio room. A tall, lanky kid leans back in his chair extending his hand to greet both boys.

“Hey, are ya’ll the security? I’m Devon. She’s in there ‘getting inspired’.” Their eyes follow his finger as he points behind the glass where you and some of your friends were strewn around the floor. “Good luck, gentlemen.”, he sings.

Both men carefully tip toe around arms and legs to find you with your eyes closed, a half smirk painted across your lips.

“Uh, Miss Y/L/N? I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson. We’re your new personal security guards.”

“Hmm…sounds sexy.”, you slur. Your glassy, drug fueled eyes look up to meet theirs. “At least Jack hired some good-looking ones this time. Who is who?”

“Maybe, if you stood up and actually greeted us, you would have heard who is who the first time.”, Eddie chided.

Your eyes fully open as your head tilts in his direction. No one ever had the balls to scold you like that since you became famous. It was usually “Yes ma’am” this or “Anything you want, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.”. Rising to your feet, you fully take them in through your haze.

They both were attractive especially with that air of confidence you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your current boyfriend was cocky but definitely not confident. Everyone else around you seemed so fucking timid and you hated it.

“Eddie. Steve.”, Steve repeated, pointed to his friend then himself.

He was dressed head to toe in what you would call “conventional” clothes; nothing designer or anything to make him stand out. You could tell under the button up white, short sleeve shirt that he did have muscles that could protect you physically if need be. The jeans and sneakers he donned didn’t give you any new information that could tell you something about him except he probably didn’t make a whole lot of money.

Eddie was more or less the same with a much more grunge fashion sense that, to you, he pulled off well. You pointed to his Metallica t-shirt with your finger.

“My music isn’t like theirs. It might make your ears bleed.”

“As long as I can still see you and see you’re safe, I think I’ll survive.”

He’s quick witted. I like that…

“Ok. We’ll give it a try. Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at my house and I can tell you more about what you’ll be doing.”

***

“Steven Harrington, have you read half this stuff?”, Eddie sighs as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees as he points at things on his laptop.

“She’s been arrested twice; once for possession and another for disorderly conduct where she was found having sex with someone while she was drunk in public. The cops have been called to her house multiple times due to, honestly, take your fucking pick. Her boyfriend was arrested just last week for sucker punching one of her fans for ‘getting too close’. How are we supposed to protect someone who invites all this chaos into her life.”

“I don’t know, Ed. The same way you protect anyone I guess.”, Steve leans back on the couch as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “Again, this is just a steppingstone. I’m sure after a few months of handling her, any number of high value agencies will want to hire us. WHICH MEANS…”, he glances towards Eddie. “…you need to control your Dom voice.”

The metalhead chuckles as he leans back as well. “It’s going to be hard with a fucking brat like her. Dude, she didn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello.”

“I know… I know… but just, try. For me?”

#########

It takes you awhile to open the door when they knock but when you finally do, you look completely hung over.

“Yeah, come…come in. Do you want something to drink? Jack? Vodka? I have them all.”

“It’s 10am.”, Steve responds as he looks at his watch.

You raise an eyebrow at him before heading for the kitchen and grabbing the whole bottle of Jack Daniels. “If you’re boring, Eddie. Just say that.”

“Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Right now, I don’t care—”

“We can tell.”, Eddie growls.

You blink as you look up at him. You’ve never wanted to toy with a man so bad in your life. He wasn’t even trying to hide that your disrespect was bothering him and honestly you couldn’t get enough.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I don’t do mornings. Unfortunately, my manager insists on scheduling interviews for me that require me to up at this ungodly hour.” They watch you as you slump onto the couch and throw your arm over your eyes. “So, how much did Jack tell you?”

“Uh, just the basics. We watch out for you.”

“Good. It’s just following me around and making sure I don’t get swarmed or murdered. I’ll give you guys a key to my house before you leave today and when I stay at hotels I’ll do the same. You’ll most likely be staying in the same room as me anyway so…”

The sound of banging on your front door makes you cringe. “I guess I’ll get it.”, Eddie sighs as Steve’s eyes follow him. “Your makeup people are here, your highness.”

A big grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look over at them. “I like him. Steven, you need to start stepping it up or he’ll become my favorite.”

The metalhead lazily glances towards his friend with playful wide eyes. “Well, lucky me.”

***

As snotty as your attitude was, they couldn’t deny how beautiful you were especially after your prep team was done putting you together. The makeup hid all damage you had done to yourself the night before and the outfit they had you in sexily showed off all your curves. Your eyes shifted to them, watching them as they looked around.

“No one is going to shoot me in here, boys.”

“Hm. You never know.”, Eddie exhales as he points to things. “Someone could come in through that back door behind you or because no one checks any of these people’s IDs, someone could sneak in pretending to be a hair stylist and take you out like that.”, he snaps his fingers.

“Bags that hold all the beauty and camera equipment are big enough to hold even a rifle let alone a handgun. That’s implying someone would want to shoot you instead of stabbing or blowing you up.”, Steve followed.

“Wow. Just charming.”

“It’s our job, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think due to the circumstances you can call me Y/N.”, you grin.

The producer gets your attention, walking you through the questions that would be asked and how the interview would go. The boys watched you in amazement as your personality practically changed when the camera went live. No one would ever be able to tell what you did behind the scenes or any other narrative then the one you provided.

An hour later and after many questions, the interview ended and your face fell.

“God, I need a drink.”

“Can we at least go over the tour first?”, your manager whined.

“Baby!”

You excitedly got up and ran to your boyfriend’s arms. “Simon!”

Everyone in the room cringed at the heavy smacking sounds that left you two as he continued to sloppily kiss your lips.

“Who are the new guys?”

“Babe, these are the new security guys. This is Eddie and Steve.”

They stand up to shake his hand but as Steve extends his palm the man looks down at it like the gesture was beneath him. “Yeah, listen boys, hands off, okay? She’s mine.”, you giggle as he slaps your ass.

“Come on, baby. I got a surprise for you.” You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you towards your bedroom.

“Y/N! We still have things to go over!”, Jack shouts as the door closes loudly.

#########

“I want to go home, Steven. It’s 2am and they’ve been fucking in there all god damn day. At this point we shouldn’t have a client anymore because he killed her by not giving her any food or fucking water. It definitely won’t be due to her climaxing because I haven’t heard that happen yet.”

“We can’t leave until he does.”, Steve sighs. “Or she dismisses us for the evening.”

As if on cue, Simon saunters past them into the kitchen, casually opening your fridge, and begins chugging from a jug of orange juice. “Um, I’m pretty sure you two can leave. She’s not even here.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’m assuming she climbed out the window after I crashed. She does that to escape the security teams. It’s kind of a rite of passage honestly.”

“Where would she go?”, Eddie growls.

“Um, there’s a bar about a mile up the road. She likes to walk there for some reason.”

***

“So, pretty lady. Do you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“Ugh, no. Get off me. I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on, honey.”, the man slurred.

“Hey! The lady said no.”, Steve’s voice echoed through the bar as he starred the man down. “Leave. Now.”

The patron held up his hands defensively, staggering back towards his table.

“Come on, Y/N. Time for you to go home.”, Eddie motioned for the bartender to stop serving you as the other boy reached into your purse to pay him.

“You’re my security. Not my fucking dad. I can stay here and drink if I want.”

“You’re at a bar in a nightie, shorts, and flip flops at 2 in the morning. It’s a safety concern.”

“Oh shit.”, you giggle. “I am in my nightie.” Steve roughly grips your arm and tugs you out the door towards his car. “Let me go, you fucking dick.”

A switch flips in the man’s brain; he can’t help it. For the past couple of days, he’s tolerated your disrespect but like Eddie, he hated it. They both could handle a lot but you were pushing them too far. Still holding onto your wrist, he twirls you towards the vehicle till your back hits the door.

“Now, listen here because I’m only going to say this once. We’ve handled the tone and the blatant disregard for what we do but it ends now. Our job is to keep you safe not fucking babysit some spoiled, rich washed-up singer. This is the last time you pull a stunt like this; do you understand me?”

Steve’s body was so close to yours you could feel his angry breath fanning your face. It had been ages since someone put you in your place like this and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a bit turned on. A new feeling washed over you though as your eyes scanned his face. For the first time since you entered this industry, you actually felt safe.

They weren’t afraid to be blunt with you which compared to everyone else in your life was a nice reprieve. You knew 90% of the people in your life, given the chance, would sell you out in a heartbeat but would still stand there and tell you how perfect you were.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Eddie’s voice startled you, completely unaware he was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, glaring down at you with those same angry eyes.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now get in the car.”

#############

That following morning, they half expected to be fired but were surprised when you opened the front door as soon as they knocked.

“We have to go to the studio first and then I have to get ready for the gig tonight.”, you mumbled as you swished around them, trying to get in the backseat of his car to no avail. “Can you open the door…please?”

Eddie caught it in your tone first…something wasn’t right and it had nothing to do with them.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can we just…”, you gesture towards the car.

“HEY! When you get back tonight make sure it’s with a better fucking attitude!”, Simon yells from your front door.

“Well maybe I won’t come back, you free loading mama’s boy!”

“Stupid bitch should learn how to talk to a man.”, he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door shut.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look before the metalhead speaks to you. “Is that something we need to handle?”

“No. He’s just being a fucking prick.”

He opens your door and you slowly slide in before both men do the same. As the car begins to move, Steve keeps checking on you in his rearview mirror. Your sunglass covered eyes remain focused on the window as you stare out into the California streets.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About leaving and keeping you guys out late when you didn’t have to. Simon just pissed me off and…”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“No. Sometimes he’s an asshole.” You flash them a sassy smirk that grows when you see Eddie try and hide his own at your sarcasm. “He’s just…hot headed, you know? He’s been through a lot.”

“And you haven’t?”

Your eyes swivel to Steve before glancing down at your hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, neither should I so…”

“Just because you have an attitude doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like trash. Maybe you just need someone stronger who can handle it and not take it personally.”

“Oh? And who would that be, Steve? You?”

“Aw, Munson, that’s cute. She thinks we can’t handle her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’ve dealt with worse than you.”, he smiles as he turns around in his seat. “It’s you that can’t handle us. Thankfully though we aren’t in a relationship so we’ll never get to find out.”

“I never say never, gentlemen.”

****

After going over the tour dates, everything you would be doing, and everything you need, your next stop was the venue you would be performing at tonight.

Eddie cringed as the feedback of the mic echoed around the building.

“Hey! Try plugging it into the correct port!” The young man shrugged his shoulders causing the metalhead to go over and show the boy what he was doing wrong.

“Let me guess? Rock and Roll drummer in a Metallica cover band?”, you grin at him as the mic starts picking up your voice perfectly.

“Guitarist and our own band, not a cover band.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you musically inclined?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you good at?”

“Babysitting.”, he raised his eyebrow in your direction making your smile grow.

As the additional security from the venue finally arrived, you watched with fascination as the guys took on a more authoritative tone, telling each person where they would need to be. Time slowly dwindled till it was about twenty minutes before the show. You began pacing as you shook out your preshow jitters.

“Hey, they say they are ready for you to head towards the stage.”

You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Goddamn it! Okay, fucking thank you!” His eyes narrowed in your direction as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Can I help you with anything else?!”

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re not my father, Steven, or my friend. Get the fuck out! I’ll be right out!”

The boy bites his bottom lip as he nods his head. “Yes ma’am.” As he starts to open the door, he pauses turning to face you again. “You look really beautiful, by the way. Your voice is amazing. Eddie and I have actually never heard any of your songs before today. This will be our first concert. I’m excited to see it.”

Your wide, glassy eyes turn to look at him as he slowly begins to close the door again.

“Steve! Thank you…”

##########

That night you gave it your all and then some. Occasionally, you would glance down at the bottom of the stage watching as Steve and Eddie’s demeanor remained focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, however, you would notice a foot tap to the beat or a head would bob to your lyrics. If this was the first time they were attending a Y/N concert, you wanted them to enjoy it and show them what you bring to the entertainment table.

So many people when you were starting out told you that you would never make it. That your dream of becoming a singer was a pipe dream for people with “actual talent”. Since day one you always felt like you had to prove yourself, hell, even before you started singing. In your house growing up you felt like you had to fight to be seen.

Once you crossed that threshold, everything came easier but you never stopped fighting. Fighting the fear of being nothing again, the knowledge that everyone in your circle just wanted a piece of you and what you earned. Fighting to keep everyone happy including yourself. The alcohol and drugs helped immensely or at least that’s what you believed. You thought it helped numb your brain and the pain so you could just get through every day.

When Eddie sassed you in the studio, you knew he was different. For a while you couldn’t get a read on Steve until that night outside of the bar. The fact that neither of them had asked you to hear their demo tape or hit on you was already a point in their favor but they genuinely seemed to want to protect you so you wanted to return the favor in some way, your voice.

When the concert ended, they snuck a peak at you. Eddie was never a fan of the type of music you sang but he couldn’t deny that what you did sing went straight to his heart. Steve noticed that while you sang, it was like you transported to a different place. You seemed calmer and more in tune with yourself, making you seem more confident than when you weren’t.

This was the first time since they met you that you genuinely seemed happy.

Something in the atmosphere changed. Maybe it was too many booze served at the bar or just the energy of the evening but people in the crowd started chanting for an encore. You were exhausted having gone longer on your set then you were supposed to already. You gave the crowd your best smile, thanking them for coming out, and telling them how much you loved their support.

A fan jumped on to the stage and Eddie was quick to pull him back down. Panic set in as you watched the crowd start to fight with each other and the security team jump into action. The metalhead was in front of you and you hastily gripped his arm as he scanned the area trying to find Steve.

“Harrington?!”

After tapping his shoulder, you pointed to the corner near a wall where you saw the boy in a fist fight of his own. Eddie pushed you towards the side of the stage behind a curtain.

“Don’t move! I’ll be right back, ok?!”, he shouted over the chaos as you gave him a firm nod.

You watched as he jumped off the platform, running to pull the man off his friend and shoving him to where you were hiding. Steve didn’t even hesitate as he lifted you into his arms and they both ran down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached their car and placed you in the back seat, him climbing in with you as Eddie sped away.

“Wait…what about Jack…and everyone else?”

“No. We have to get you out and away from the building especially during a scene like that.” Steve searched through his jacket pocket for a tissue, placing it against his nose when he finally finds one.

“Are-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole got me good.”

About a mile down the road, Eddie parked the car into a gas station and got out to check you both over. “What happened, Harrington? Let someone get the best of you?”, Eddie chuckled.

“Dude, they cornered me so fast especially after I pulled him off of the venue’s security guy.”

“Did I do that? Did I do something wrong?” Their head swivel around to look at your frightened frame. “Th-that’s never happened before…I-I-I…”

“Hey, hey, hey Y/N. It’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I seriously think it was just…”, Eddie shrugs. “Beer and a packed in place. People just being…too rowdy. It happens but that’s what we’re here for.”

The man throws his arms up in surprise when you suddenly tackle him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press your head into his chest.

“Thank you…so much.” You let him go as you turn to give Steve a hug as well. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

When you started to pull back, his arms came down to hold you to him. “Hey, better me than you.”, he gently sighs, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

#######

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?! Baby, are you okay?” Simon ran to you from his place on your couch as you and the guys entered your house.

“The concert ended a bit roughly but I’m ok. Really…”

“Isn’t it your job to fucking protect her!?”

“Yes and we did that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Look at her! She’s a mess and she’s shaking!” Your boyfriend charged up to Steve who glared down at him as he continued to yell in his face.”

“Simon, leave them alone. Please, I just want to get this crap off and go to bed.”

Eddie gripped his friend’s arm as he spoke to you. “Is there anything else you need, Y/N? Do you feel safe enough for us to leave and let you rest?”

“Of course, she fucking does. I can take care of her.”

Your eyes met theirs as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to Jack and everyone in the morning.” The metalhead tugs at Steve forcing him to back down from your boyfriend. He flashes you one more cursory glance before turning around and leaving you for the night.

###########

“You boys did good last night. I don’t know what happened but you knew what to do.” Jack gave them a smile as he nodded his head in approval. “Please keep up that vigilance next week when we go on tour. I think—”

“Wait. You’re still doing the tour next week?”

Your manager looked at Eddie in confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I mean…she just went through a pretty traumatic event. I couldn’t imagine getting back up on a stage immediately after something like that.”

“Yeah, well, your security not a musician so—”

“I actually am but whatever.”

Jack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as speaks to you. “Do you feel like you need more time?”

You didn’t even hear the man’s question. Since they picked you up and brought you to your managers office, you had been uncharacteristically quiet. You were thinking about everything including what transpired last night. It WAS incredibly scary but they did pull through and keep you safe. Not only did they look after you but each other; you appreciated that loyalty.

Now as Eddie defended you, thinking of your well-being, you felt yourself spiraling at the action. No one cared about you this much and they barely even knew you. What was their end game? What made them tick? What made them this way? Was it genuine or was it just their jobs?

“Y/N!”

“Huh? Oh, um, I mean…a week would be fine…especially if I can just rest…”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”, Jack responded in a nonchalant tone. “Go ahead and take the week but be back here on Thursday so we can go over everything.”

You nod as you head out of the office with your protectors in tow. “Hey, um, did you guys want to go get some lunch or something?”

***

“So, why security?”, you ask as you bite into your burger.

“Like Steve said, I mean, we’re good at it.”

“Well, good at protecting people. Security work just allows us to get paid for it.”, the man smiles as he takes a sip from his drink.

“And you two have been friends for a while?”

“Since high school.”

“And where was that exactly?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, sweetheart. Can I ask why?”, Eddie playfully narrows his eyes in your direction making you smile.

“I just…you two are very different then people we usually hire. I just want to know more about you.”

“Different how?”, Steve asks.

“I don’t know. You just seem to genuinely care.”

“If the people around you don’t genuinely care then you need to hire some new people.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to find in this industry.” You reach in your purse and raise a flask in their direction as you pour a bit into your coffee.

“Is that why you do things like that?”, Eddie gestures towards you drink.

“No, baby. I do things like this to keep me from going insane.”

“How about you do the healthy thing and stand up for yourself?”

You angerly turn your attention to Steve. “I can stand up for myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you let your manager, boyfriend, and entourage talk down to you the way they do?”

“Go fuck yourself, alright?! Look, I can stick up for myself and say what’s on my mind. For example, you two are complete fucking assholes.”, you growl. “I’m done eating. I want to go home.”

Eddie smirks as the other boy sighs. “Such a whiney, spoiled brat. I swear.” The metalhead pulls out his wallet, throwing money on the table as they both get to their feet. “Your highness.”, he gestures towards the front door.

“I’m not whiney or spoiled. I worked hard to get here and I’m not going to let you or anyone talk to me like that.”

“Yet you do.”, Steve retorts as he opens the back door to his car. You roughly reach across, slamming it shut. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Apologize to me.”

“For what? Pointing out the obvious? Frankly, I don’t get why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and you have such a gorgeous voice yet you pump yourself with poison and let these people take advantage of you. Why?”

You exhale as you look towards the ground. “I can handle it.”

“You say that a lot.” Eddie folds his arms on top of the car as he leans onto his hands.

“Because I can.”

“By getting wasted?”

“My personal life is none of your fucking concern.”, you growl.

“You’re right.” Steve opens the back door again and this time you climb in. “You just seem like you deserve better.”

##########

“I swear, man, that girl is going to get us killed. Or put in prison after WE kill her.”, Eddie chuckles from his place on the sofa.

“I kind of like her.” The metalhead coyly raises his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, come on, like you don’t?”, Steve sighs as he leans back against the couch. “There’s something hidden under all that sass and alcohol…I saw it when she was singing. I’d love to get to know that part of her better.”

Eddie grinned as he reached for his phone, smile fading when he saw the ID.

“Hello. This is Eddie Munson.”

“E-Eddie? I, um, I think—FUCK YOU! —I need help.”

“You stupid bitch! Open this fucking door right fucking now!”

Eddie ross to his feet, tugging at Steve’s arm as he searched for his keys. “Where are you?”

“I-I’m in my bedroom. Simon and I got into a fight and-and he’s wasted. Pl-please…I’m scared. He’s never been this angry.”

Steve had already started the car, speeding towards your house. “Hey, it’s ok, sweetheart. We’re on the way, alright? Just stay on the phone with me, ok?”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you guys today. Fuck… you two seem s-so different. I-I just…”

“Y/N don’t even worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be alright. We’re almost there.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty! Think you can talk to me anyway you want to! Fuck you, you fucking slut! Open the door, Y/N!”

“Oh, sure! You fuck all the groupies and fans that show up to my concerts but I’m the fucking slut!”

“Y/N, stop engaging. Talk to me.” There’s a loud crash and a squeak from your side as the line cuts off. “Steve…hurry.”

Five minutes later, they are bursting through your front door, running towards your bedroom where they hear your boyfriend shouting. Steve tackles him to the floor subduing him with his knee in his back.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving. You’re lucky I don’t fucking shoot you, asshole.”

“Y/N?”, Eddie softly called your name as you continued to cower in the corner with your head tucked into your arms. “Princess, everything is ok. I’m going to touch your arm.” You jump when his fingers graze your skin but you allow him to guide you to your feet. “There we go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Can you look at me so I can check you out here?”

Your lips trembled as you faced him, his eyes slowly growing dark with fury as he scanned you over. Your face was red from your tears but he could also see where Simon had smacked your cheek. You had bruises that were starting to form on your arms where he must have grabbed you.

“I’ll call the police and EMS.”, he grumbled trying to contain his anger.

“No! No EMS. Please…I don’t need those pictures or attention.”

“But I do of me being pushed into a fucking cop car.”, Simon spat.

Steve grabbed his hair and hit his head into the carpet. “Shut. Up.” His eyes meet yours as he speaks in a much gentler tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, I have a first aid kit here and all that so I’m fine.”

***

The police came by and took Simon away after taking everyone’s statements. Eddie and Steve took care of almost everything which you immensely appreciated. After everyone left, you expected them to as well but as your front door closed, you found you weren’t the only one on the other side.

“I’m going to see if I can get your bedroom door back on its hinges.”, Eddie turned the corner to head down your hallway as Steve followed.

You tiptoe after them, watching them with bewilderment as the metalhead got to work and Steve began straightening up the things Simon had damaged.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” They both froze, straightening up to look at you. “Why…why are you so nice to me? I’m such a fucking bitch to you. According to you, I’m a bratty, spoiled, washed up singer. WHY are you doing this?!”, you gesture around the room.

They glanced at each other and after a few minutes it was Steve who finally spoke. “How should we be? Hm? Should we be like him? Do you think you deserve to be treated like this, Y/N?”

Their voices and demeanor completely changed in the moment; talking to you like a little girl who had just run into your parent’s room crying about a monster under her bed.

“Sweetheart, NO ONE deserve to be treated like this. You didn’t trigger this. What he just did…isn’t your fault. You did the right thing calling us here. Now what kind of protectors would we be if we left you here alone with your house like this?”

You broke, sobbing almost uncontrollably as your hands covered your face. Strong hands tenderly grabbed your biceps, pulling you into a chest as you wrapped your arms around his back. Another palm delicately petted your head and for the first time in your life, you had never felt safer.

Stepping back, you wipe your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie’s kind, worry filled orbs running over your face as Steve stood beside him doing the same.

“Can, um, can we worry about this tomorrow and you stay here with me tonight?”

“Yeah, we can stay here, honey. Do you have another room you can sleep in? I don’t think tomorrow morning you should open your eyes and this is the first thing you see.”

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall here.”

“Good because I agree with Steve. We can sleep on the couches out here and—”

“Can you sleep with me?”, you interrupt, your question startling both men. “I-I-I mean, you don’t have to. I just… I’m still a bit scared. I’m…forget about it.”

Eddie grabbed your hand as you started to walk away.

“We can do that for you. If that’s what you want.” You nod your head to his statement, watching him closely as his eyes shift from security Eddie to something you had never seen before in any man. Whatever it was it made you feel weak in the knees. His fingers reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you say it?”

“I-I want you two to sleep…in my bed…with me. Please.” That last word comes out almost in a whisper, pleading with them to stay.

Steve’s fingers softly caress your cheek before gliding under your chin, turning you to face him. He had that same look Eddie had, that air of confidence you remembered seeing when you first met them but more dominate.

“Good girl.”

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