#also she enjoys singing a lot and never misses an opportunity to show off some chords

[spottys-rathole]

HI HELLO les asks sont fermés sur ton art blog donc je me pose dans le coin :3c

Love love love your Team du Lundi designs, and I’d love to hear more about Zera’s specifically!! Why the non-human look, why’d you make him a hologram? 👀

Also this is a free space to talk about any of the other designs I want to know everything please and thank you

Related post

J'ai 84 ans pardon normalement c'est réglé hiiiiiiiiiiiii ty so so much raaaah

So why not draw him as human ? :

N°1 -

N°2 -

Back from when I used to play on online multiplayer Minecraft servers when I was like 14, there was only two genders : catgirl with the exact same bang of hair that hid one eye and the most mathematically accurate gradient hair & gamer boy with headphones and who's colour palette was strictly black combined with one single very primary colour (/lh my brother and I ironically fell exactly in that very binary scale)

And Zerator's skin. Is exactly that Which makes sense, he claims to have started playing minecraft in 2012, and according to Name.mc he's never changed his skin since (he updated it once but the design stays the same)

My headcanon is that he is some self aware autonomous AI bound to a drone which projects a hologram to communicate with people for a better body language understanding

The idea is that he was programmed a decade ago and hasn't gotten an update since. So the design of his hologram's never changed and has thus remained that typical nostalgic look

Since he does not have a biological body = he does not have any needs apart from charging up his batteries every now and then which is my justification as to why he was not as present as everyone else on the server

I like to think that he used to be some sort of robot assistant and that old habits die hard Canonically people call him "the public services" a lot because he would spend most of his time on the server lending a hand to people either with their own building projects or while they were out adventuring. I just like the picture of him dropping whatever he was doing upon being called for an emergency and rushing in sirens all out just to find Baghera stuck in a pit with a horse (fOr ExAMpLE)

Also I'm sure there's something to dig with him being a black and green hovering computer, you know just something something his friendship with Etoiles and Etoiles' blind trust towards something else specifically (actually idk im not up yet to date with that guy's lore lol)

Also @massivefanmilkshake wrote

"I think your Zerator kind of has the same vibe as Vector from Despicable Me and it really fits him"

and I haven't stopped giggling since

#im not gonna lie i don't have as many things to say about most of my other designs lol #ive already blabbered about antoine #my flangle and etoiles designs are pretty straight forward #ill tell you what though if baghera didnt canonically come from where she comes from in the bigQ server i would have made #her a siren but the greek mythology kind because other than her perfectly fitting the physical description #everything she does is water related even her bff is water related. #also she enjoys singing a lot and never misses an opportunity to show off some chords #as for hortchy i actually roughly based her on my already existing foolish design #team du lundi #zerator #ask #my art #wips #nugget

[pedgito]

hii !! i love your work and i cant get out of my head rockstar!eddie MAYBE EVEN OLDER ROCKSTAR!EDDIE can u do something about him?? PLEASE im begging

author’s note: i’m back with more older!eddie because i literally can’t resist, it’s too good. i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), older rockstar!eddie, large age gap (early 20s, late 30s), shy!reader (if you squint), mentions of groupies, oral (m receiving), smoking, lots of dirty talk, deep throating, ect, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.8k

You really had no business being here—shoved into a crowd at a rock concert for a band you’d never heard of. Corroded…something. But, by some cataclysmic fate you’d been shove to the front, body nearly leaning over the railing as the men on stage performed their hearts out, the crowd singing along to every song, hanging on to every word and it felt unreal watch something like this live, and needless to say, you were entranced.

Your friend had disappeared a few minutes earlier for a bathroom break during one of the quick intermissions, but you weren’t sure how easily they’d make it back, everyone packed in tight, leaving barely any room for you to breathe. The men on stage interacted with the crowd for a bit, the long haired one—the lead, you could only assume. He was loud and overbearing, making a complete fool of himself—it was obnoxious, until his eyes landed on you, drawing you in.

What you had failed to realize is that the band indeed liked to bring people on stage, typically for a ridiculous serenade or a chance for someone to show off their musical skills, let out a wild guitar riff or an epic drum solo—unfortunately, you couldn’t handle either.

Your heart clenches in your chest at his subtle nod, grinning barely enough for his teeth to peek through—you shake your head slightly, a thousand eyes burning into the back of your head as the crowd starts to catch up, beginning to interrupt into a cheer of encouragement. He leans back, whispering something to his bandmates until they’re nodding in response, hopping off the stage and heading your way.

And if you weren’t panicking already, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears is enough to drive you mad. You weren’t a fan, didn’t know a single word, and would undoubtedly make a fool of yourself if you let them pull you up on stage, no matter how enticing their presence may be—there was no way you were letting that happen, not in front of thousands of people.

You’re pretty insistent rather, shaking your head the moment they approach you—and from an outsider's perspective you look insane, throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime for some people, all because of your own innate shyness.

“She said no, Eddie.” The younger guy with short cropped and dirty blonde hair shouts back at his bandmates.

Eddie. It’s less fitting than you expect, but you’re not really one to judge—he cocks his head slightly, squatting down on the stage as he waves you forward, fingers wiggling welcomingly.

And maybe if you weren’t surrounded by a crowd of people, you would’ve considered it. He can see the fear in your eyes, jumping down to approach you quickly.

“Are you sure?” He asks, leaning forward to speak into your ear, the roar of the crowd deafening. “Anyone else in here would kill for a chance like this.”

He’s not lying—women would throw themselves on stage and at him, men too, but he’s also constantly surprised by people everyday, though this is a complete first.

“Pick someone else, please.” You beg, eyes pleading, glaring at him simmeringly, “Not me.”

“Hey—what’s going on?” The chipper voice of your friend asks, tearing up behind you as they push through the crowd.

You’ve never been more thankful for the distraction, letting Eddie pluck your friend from the crowd and drag them on stage in your place, but not before whispering over to one of the men lined up by the stage—a couple of professional gentlemen lined up in suits.

He hesitates a step before he hops back on stage and within the distraction of the crowd as they were more entranced with what was happening on stage as your friend took a seat, Eddie tears back and leans toward you again, breath hot as he speaks against the side of your face, “I’ll get you and your friend backstage passes, so try not to run away after the show’s over?”

It felt like a fucking fever dream, wondering if this is normal behavior—which it’s so glaringly obvious that it isn’t, but you keep your naivety at the forefront, nodding quietly in response as his eyes lock on you to confirm, offering you a devious smile in return before he’s gone, back on stage and performing like it was second nature—because to Eddie, it was.

“This is crazy—this is fucking insane—“

You yank gently at your friend, stalling their overactive movements, knowing they were about to jump out of their skin given the chance.

“Hey, cool—you two are our last ones.” Eddie’s voice echoes behind you, rounding the corner as he nods toward the open door nestled just behind him. “Come on.”

You were trying to seem interested, act like you genuinely wanted to be there—but you couldn’t fake it, taking in the large, unorganized dressing room sparingly, astounded by the idea that people paid real money for experiences like this.

Because while your friend is eating up, enjoying the droves of attention the other bandmates are showing them, you’re reserved, standing back behind as Eddie approaches at your side, unlit cigarettes tucked between his lips.

“You smoke?” He asks curiously, fiddling with his lighter in his hands.

“Yeah.” You answer slowly, offering him a skeptical look.

Eddie easily reaches for the case tucked in his back pocket, offering you a single cigarette. You can feel the tension as he flicks it toward you, wordlessly offering you the chance for a one on one, not that you have a shit. But, you were here—so why not?

“Sure.” You shrug dismissively, reaching for the cigarette as Eddie calls over his shoulder, motioning for you to follow him outside—but considering the dressing room reeked of the smell of weed and smoke already, you weren’t sure he went outside to smoke very often.

“We’ll be back, gonna have a quick smoke—“ He announces, speaking jokingly toward your friend, “I’m sure you’ve got a ton of burning questions.”

Eddie doesn’t light up until he’s outside, heavy metal door clanging shut behind him. He inhaled deeply, igniting the end of the cigarette before extending his arms forward, offering to light your own. You lean forward silently, eyes never leaving his as the flint sparks to life.

“Why are you here?” He asks curiously, shoving the light back into his pocket.

You look around dumbly, taking in the surroundings before looking pointedly at him, “You offered me a smoke, didn’t you?”

Eddie chuckles around the cigarette, pulling it from his lips with a loose grip, thumbs and forefinger gripping the base.

“I meant the show, sweetheart.” Eddie says, tone enticing.

The attraction you feel is…unnatural, bordering on the heels of taboo. He’s nearly twice your age, graying slightly in his beard, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away, slipping one hand under your shirt to rest against your hip as you leaned against the wall.

“My friend had an extra ticket,” You shrug, “and why would I deny a good time?”

“So, you enjoyed the show?” He asks teasingly, cigarette lingering near his lips as he smirks, full of smug attitude.

“What I could,” You admit, “I have no idea who you guys are.”

He snorts a laugh, simmering with a small amount of disbelief.

“Oh, is that hard to believe?” You retort, “God, you musicians are all the same.”

“Musicians? Do tell.” Eddie encourages, puffing a few times in quick succession. “I’d love your take.”

You flick the cigarette toward the ground, stubbing it out with your shoe. “Full of yourselves.” You tell him simply, “Like when I told you I didn’t want to come on stage—you looked offended.”

“Forgive me,” Eddie replies dramatically, “In the past fifteen years not one person has ever turned down that chance. I was a little surprised.”

“Why did you pick me?” You inquire, pressing for more information, catching the way his eyes wander. “Was I just the right amount of pretty for you?”

“Huh,” Eddie replies, “seems like someone else is a little full of themselves.”

You don’t reply, eyebrows raising in annoyance as you wait for his response.

“You looked lost, overwhelmed” Eddie admits, “I was just trying to give you a chance to escape the crowd.”

“By pulling me onstage in front of thousands of people?”

“Look, sweetheart—“

You shake your head insistently, rising to poke a finger into his chest, fingertip pressing against bare skin, flicking at his chain necklace, guitar pick slapping against his chest.

“I’m not your sweetheart—I’m not your groupie, either.” You tell him snippingly, “Do you really think I’m that clueless?”

Eddie gums softly, “And yet, you still followed me out here.”

You pull back slightly, pouting in subtle anger.

“That’s what I thought.” He replies playfully, “So, what’s your excuse?”

The silence is the only answer Eddie needs, knowing you're just as guilty for feeling it too—he extends his hand carefully, flicking the cigarette to a far off dark corner, hoping that you’ll accept his offer.

Whatever that offer may be.

The first touch is instant electricity and Eddie pulls you in with ease, sliding his open palm down your back, resting just above the curve of your ass, other hand releasing yours to squeeze at the side of your neck, pulling you tight against him. His eyes are dark and peering down at you, head slightly turned up as he speaks.

“You can still run away, if you want.” Eddie offers, “I won’t be offended—though I have to admit, you’re much too pretty for me to let go that easily.”

You shake your head silently, skipping the niceties and rubbing a firm hand over the front of his jeans, cock growing hard under your touch. “Should I?”

Eddie tilts his head slightly, confused.

“Run away?” You clarify.

“Remind me how much you know about me?” Eddie asks, knowing that his life wasn’t ever private anymore, not anyone.

He’s lived a majority of his adult life in the limelight and made every possible mistake along the way—it’s refreshing, looking into the innocent and untainted eyes of someone who knew nothing about him; good or bad.

“Not a thing.” You reaffirm, a sharp edged smile on your face as you lean further into him, pressing the line on your body against him.

“Perfect.” He breathes, before tipping your head back to capture your mouth, tongue tasting like whiskey and smoke, the faint mix of sweat and fancy cologne lingering in your senses as you open up to him, lips parting willingly.

He kisses sure of himself, hands never faltering or straying away, squeezing in the places that had you squealing softly into his mouth before eventually traveling to cover your ass fully, squeezing the flesh in his palms as you pull back, allowing him to chase your lips slightly before pulling away, voice low as you speak, “Can I suck your cock?” You ask sweetly and Eddie’s never been so genuinely taken back in his life.

He’s used to quick fucks and nothing else, getting what he could from these short encounters and never thinking twice.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie replies with a chuckle of amusement, unfastening his pants as you sink to your knees, helping him with his belt, “—shit sweetheart, hold on—“

His quickly strips himself of his jacket, dropping into the floor wordlessly—you spread it out under your knees, knowing it won’t do much but you’re thankful for the gesture, showing it in the way you pull his jeans down his hips enough until you can get a hand around his cock, pumping it in long, slow strokes as it rose to full hardness.

“You know what you’re doing?” Eddie asks, thumb rubbing tenderly at the side of your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. You nod confidently, bottom lip pulled loosely between your teeth as he gently shoves your hand away, gripping himself firmly and lining the head of his cock at your lips, dragging your bottom lip with it as he waits, jaw tensed.

“Open for me, sweetheart.” He tells you kindly, the hand cupping your chin tipping your head up higher, your lips parting obediently until he can slip the tip past your lips, dragging the fleshy head over your tongue, allowing himself a few languid strokes until you’re hollowing your cheeks out, lips wrapping around him at the perfect pressure, swirling your tongue teasingly against the sensitive slit. “Can’t take too long—they’ll come looking,” Eddie speaks idly, mouth hung open slightly as he watches you take more of his cock, your hand coming up to gently swat his away, directing it toward your hair, allowing him to grip a fair portion as you forced yourself deeper, hand wrapping around what you couldn’t cover.

He’s more than you’ve ever taken otherwise, but not so overwhelming that you feel like you shouldn’t, that you can’t.

“I’ll be quick.” You say, breath ghosting over his shaft as your mouth travels down, paying the perfect amount of attention to his balls, rolling the tight sack over your tongue until he’s groaning loudly into the chill air, squeezing at the chunk of hair he had in his grip, “I swear.”

You tease him further, stroking at his shaft with his balls still heavy in your mouth, nose nudging at the properly kept curls settled at the base of his cock, moaning in a effort to pull another desperate noise from him—it works, Eddie grunting through his teeth as he pulls you away, urging you direct the attention toward his aching dick, your tongue peeking out to lick at the small bead of precum, eyes never leaving his face.

You really hadn’t expected to spend your night like this, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away, struck by his intense and heavy gaze, staring down at you with an adoration you’d never felt, with anyone.

“God, those fucking lips,” He comments, thumb rubbing carefully around the edge, the stretch of his dick in your mouth was obscene, no doubt—he could barely keep it together, “where’d you learn to use your mouth like this?”

“Lots and lots of practice,” You tell him honestly, voice dripping with a tone of sweetness that doesn’t nearly make up for the depraved words that come out of your mouth. “—want you to fuck my face, Eddie.”

His eyebrows furrow in disbelief, barely visible under his long bangs, but you can see it—he nods slightly, pulling you back abruptly before repositioning himself, forcing his cock into your mouth slowly until it won’t budge, nudging the back of your throat, eyes watering at the soft intrusion. You nod slowly—it’s all Eddie needs before he’s pulling out again, thrusting back into your mouth harshly.

You moan around him, genuinely startled by his ease of flipping control, face tense and eyes squeezed shut as he fucks your face with fervor. He throws his head back lazily, groaning with every nudge at the back of your throat, gagging when he pulls you forward, holding you still, coming down your throat with no warning—not that you weren’t not expecting it, eyes watering from the intrusion as he pulls you back gently.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry—“ Eddie quickly apologizes, “I didn’t mean—“

You swallow the salty, heady cum that sat in your mouth, smiling at him devilishly; the grin enough to have him falling to his knees.

“Stop trying to be a gentleman, Eddie.” You laugh softly, rising from your spot on the ground and thrusting his leather jacket into his hands, watching as he haphazardly stuffed himself back into his pants, looking disheveled. You could only assume you looked the same. ”I know it’s just an act.”

“Oh, sweetheart—you don’t know a damn thing about me.” Eddie chides, reaching forward to flick a stray hair from your face. “Remember?”

Your snort softly in defiance, sizing him up briefly.

Eddie figured it’s a long shot, but he takes a leap.

“So, we’ve got a show here next week, too—“

“Mmm, no.” You quickly retort, shaking your head shyly.

“I can get you tickets, full VIP treatment.” Eddie confesses, shrugging the jacket back on his shoulders, “It’s a sold out show, you know?”

“And I’m not a groupie.” You reinforce, “Remember?”

You were only half serious—but you couldn’t justify showing up to another show, letting this become a thing. The thrill was exhilarating, knowing you could have something most people would die for, something you knew was far from appropriate.

Eddie laughs briefly, nodding in response. He steps forward unexpectedly, devouring you in a breathtaking kiss, all tongue and teeth, nothing like the softer kiss from earlier. He wants you to remember it.

“Well, if it’s fate,” Eddie says against your mouth, “I guess I’ll see you again.”

“I guess so.” You smile back, playfully biting at his lip before pulling away, heading inside before he can say another word.

And Eddie would try his damndest to make that happen, unbeknownst to you, not that you would’ve minded—Eddie enjoyed the chase.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing #1kfic

[dolphin1812]

It's so sad to see how poorly dressed this girl is. She's shivering (this is repeatedly mentioned, too), and yet the word "string" is repeated to describe her clothes; she barely has anything to protect her from the weather. Hugo's focus on beauty when describing women and girls is uncomfortable in that it shows his own Thoughts on Women (valuing beauty above other traits), but like with Fantine, poverty deprived this girl of a chance to enjoy beauty (and in her case, from a very young age). Hugo is the one telling us that she used to be pretty, but she herself has some interest in appearances, commenting on Marius' beauty and looking at herself in the mirror. And as with Fantine, her lack of beauty is both physical and social. She, too, is missing teeth (whether because they were sold or she lost them due to illness or violence), making her look older and less appealing physically. At the same time, her lack of shame about not being properly clothed (she's only wearing a chemise and a petticoat, both of which were undergarments) makes her seem frighteningly shameless to contemporary readers and likely to Marius. Fantine lost her sense of shame, too, but not in a positive sense of gaining confidence; she felt no shame because she was ostracized to an extent where she felt she had nothing to lose socially. This girl has probably had a similar experience, since poverty is forcing her to go around with nothing more than undergarments on.

Her constant conversation combines the joy of childhood with the speech of the misérables. She's playful in a childlike way; she sings, for instance, humming in front of the mirror before she actually sings about poverty. The content of the latter is sad, but these ways in which she entertains herself serve as a reminder of her youth. To Hugo, children were inherently innocent, so her playfulness is a marker of that remaining innocence (even as he notes that poverty has taken much of that). At the same time, she rambles a lot, just like we saw Valjean do at the very beginning of the book and Champmathieu do during his trial. She repeats herself a lot ("as that is useless, as that is entirely useless, as that is absolutely useless") and narrates whatever comes to mind to Marius, likely because she has so few people that listen to her that she can't hold back now that someone's talking to her. Consequently, she jumps from one topic to the other. Marius has context for how she lost the letters, for example, but she shares her experiences with living under a bridge without any transition, as if she's desperate for someone to care about her experiences even if they can't understand them.

The differences in her and Marius' situations are also painful. Like him, she has some education (it's somewhat funny that she proves this by reading about Waterloo - I guess she can bond with Marius over Bonapartism, but since he's not as political now, it just suggests that he filled his room with books about Napoleon when obsessing over his father and never changed it because he then got distracted by pining). However, while Marius' education has kept him from the worst of poverty, hers can't protect her, likely because there are fewer opportunities available to women. She's not the only educated character who suffers regardless of their learning, though. The gravedigger Gribier was literate, too, but still had to work two jobs just to keep his family afloat. That being said, his education continued to provide in a way hers doesn't seem to (his day job involved writing), and he was more on the cusp of absolute poverty (if he lost one of those jobs, for instance) than actually living it.

The girl is generally much worse off than Marius. Most obviously, she's been homeless while Marius has not been. Marius, though, is still pretty poor:

"By dint of searching and ransacking his pockets, Marius had finally collected five francs sixteen sous. This was all he owned in the world for the moment. “At all events,” he thought, “there is my dinner for to-day, and to-morrow we will see.” He kept the sixteen sous, and handed the five francs to the young girl."

His charity guarantees that he'll be missing at least one meal, demonstrating that he's not that financially secure. Still, this girl has missed several (her words about breakfast suggest that she hasn't properly eaten for 2-3 days). She's hungry enough to eat the tough, moldy bread in Marius' room, too, which is heartbreaking to see.

#les mis letters #lm 3.8.4 #marius pontmercy #mlle jondrette #I'm not sure how to tag her without being too specific #gribier

[praxinasshanila]

Aurora, Princess of Volta

The first of my many Lolirock ocs: Aurora is one of Auriana's 32 sisters - although she's only a half sister to Auri on their father's side. She has a questionable relationship with her family after being separated from them and Isolated by Gramorr. She's a bubbly but ambitious and tenacious girl - determined to not be looked down on for only being "half a princess".

~full profile/ backstory under the cut ~

Name:

Aurora

Gender:

Female

Age:

17

Kingdom/Hometown:

Volta

Favorite Color:

Red orange

Weapon(s):

Daggers (she always carries a few, just in case)

Magic o/c! Her crystals are a rust orange

Likes:

Sunshine, powerful magic, festivals and celebrations, attention, jewelry

dislikes:

the cold, the dark, fire, a lot of her siblings, being looked down on

Strengths:

👍 bluffing

👍self reliance

👍 charismatic

👍 resilience

Weaknesses:

👎takes things too personally

👎a little self absorbed

👎easily swayed

👎materialistic

Fears

Confined spaces

-like most the princesses of Volta, Aurora was captured by Gramorr when he attacked their realm. Much of the family was kept together but Aurora wasn’t one of them. Being left isolated in a small prison cell for year has given her some serious claustrophobia 

fire

When gramorr conquered Volta he was met with resistance and in the fight the palace was destroyed. Aurora remembers trying to escape only to have her path blocked by flames. Her fear is very reasonable

3. Small animals

She just doesn’t like them, something about a small creature is just off putting to her. She’s not a fan of Amaru

Hobbies

Practicing her spell craft

Shopping

Performing (dancing and singing)

Taking long walks

Eating new foods

Back Story

Aurora is one of many princesses of Volta. She’s the closest sister to Auriana in age, being just a little bit older than her. She’s only a half sibling to Auriana, her father is the King but she has a different mother. Despite being among the older children, because she’s only half royalty she’s pretty low in the running for the throne.

Aurora was never really close to any of her massive family. As a young child she and Auriana were friends because they’re so close in age, but after they’d both hit their shanila Aurora started to notice how differently they were treated.  Her shanila was of course a big deal and treated as such, but once she was past it her life returned to business as usual. Auriana on the other hand was treated as a maturing princess who needed to learn to be in charge of things given that she was reasonably in line for the throne. This was the biggest hit to Aurora that made the gap between herself and her siblings a solid issue.

When Volta fell she, like most of the royal family, was imprisoned by Gramorr. While much of the family was kept together in a single cell a number of the older children weren’t lucky enough to be kept with their family, Aurora was one of those children. She was kept on her own completely isolated for years, because of this she became even more disconnected from others. Her time in Isolation made her very independent and self reliant but also very self absorbed. She’s always been the only person she had to count on and also the only person she’s ever had to worry about.

Since Gramorr’s defeat she’s been trying to make up for all she missed growing up in his prison, and a lot of her personality and likes have formed around that. She loves spending her time outside, enjoying the sunlight that she barely saw before. After years of isolation she loves being the center of attention, she’s taken to showing off in any way she can, and she particularly loves celebrations for giving her lots of opportunity to do so. Much like her sister she enjoys performing, both dancing and singing.  Since being freed she’s started working with her brother and Izira’s resistance force to help repair the damage Gramorr did to Ephedia. She’s a little jealous of the relationship her brother has with her other siblings, but she hopes working alongside him will help bring her closer to her family.

#lolirock #lolirock oc #oc #my oc #thing about Aurora is she's not just what her bio implies #there's more to her that it seems

[ifyouhappentoremember]

hi! this is the same anon who asked about the chemistry b/n the main trio cast. i saw the monday evening performance this week and wanted to thank you again for your response!

i saw jeremy stolle as the phantom, julia udine for christine, and paul shcaefer for raoul. i thought they worked well together, i was a big fan of julia before going so i was excited when i saw that she'd be on for christine via the website. i was honestly a bit disappointed with not being able to see ben crawford since i've grown really fond of his phantom recently. the playbill said that jeremy is the phantom for monday&wednesday performances- is this a new development? i've heard recordings of ben from mon&wed shows, so i was a bit surprised when i saw that. either way, it was still an amazing experience! jeremy just wasn't my favorite, but i recognize that i was definitely an outlier in the audience. i'm a bit crazy about comparing phantom actors and their characterizations and just the little nuances of their performances, and i know that what doesn't work for me will work for others

i know next to nothing about singing from a technical standpoint, but he sounded a bit off when when i saw him- just not as strong and controlled as i thought he'd be. i've heard recordings of his that i've enjoyed and i know he's a favorite for a lot of people on here, so maybe this was just an off night? what's your opinion on him?

also, other notes- nehal joshi as andre was absolutely amazing, i've never given much thought to the managers but he was just so entertaining. trista moldovan was on for carlotta and she was great as well, i appreciate the character more and more every time i listen to any cast. there was also a lot more humor than i expected, though my frame of reference is mostly audio recordings so i obviously miss out on some visual elements (still, there wasn't as much laughter in the audios as there was when i saw it on monday). stuff seemed to be added, like meg saying "rehearsals, always rehearsals," or something to that effect, when madame giry kicks her out after angel of music. i hadn't heard this in some audios from as recent as august, is it just something that some megs do? there seemed to be other similar small variations that added humor- has it always been like this, was it changed post-covid/more recently, or did i just have an extremely-reactive audience? it felt almost tonally-dissonant with the amount of little gags they had

i apologize for this essay of an ask, the TLDR is --what are your opinions on jeremy stolle? and --what's up with the humor, were my expectations just off?

I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed the show!

The cast listings in the playbill can be updated weekly so for prescheduled absences (like for vacation), they will note the changes accordingly. A casting change that is relatively short notice will have a paper slip inserted into the playbill and if it's really short notice, they will make a preshow announcement.

Nehal Joshi is a great André! His André is such a delightful mix of enthusiastic and worried. And I'm jealous that you got to see Trista Moldovan as Carlotta! I've been hoping I'd get an opportunity to see her but so far Raquel Suarez Groen has rarely missed a performance I've attended (not that I'm complaining - Raquel is a wonderful Carlotta).

I've been racking my brain, trying to remember when the 'rehearsals, always rehearsals' line had been added to the Broadway production. Since reopening, it has definitely been standard. I want to say they added that line around 2012? It started as an ad-libbed, throwaway line that the audience wasn't supposed to catch, but now it's morphed into a comedic moment. But how prevalent that line really depends on the sound engineer as they are the ones who control the microphones. I find that the comedic moments in Phantom really depend on the level of audience engagement/enthusiasm. When the audience is really into it, I find that the actors milk the comedic moments a bit more. I've been to some performances when the audience has been dead and things were kind of dull on stage. I've also seen moments I thought were really funny but no one in the audience was laughing so I had to try and stifle my laughter because you do not want to be the only one hysterically laughing. Yeah, humor can be very subjective. But considering that every performance now is sold out, half of the audience lightly chuckling is going to be 800 people making noise all at once. It will be loud!

And now, we turn to Jeremy Stolle. When I saw his Phantom back in August, I had the exact opposite reaction to you when I got a look at the cast list. I was really excited to get the chance to see him (and it was a Jeremy/Elizabeth pairing!! no disrespect to Ben but I'd seen him 8 times at that point and I needed to see someone new). Jeremy's Phantom has a lot of neat touches. The way he says fool is iconic for a reason and he isn't called 'Jeremy Strolle' for nothing. He (along with Elizabeth Welch) delivered the best rendition of Point of No Return I've seen live. Vocally, when I first saw him, I was shocked by him. He sounded very strained. I'm looking back on the notes I posted about that performance, and reading between the lines I can clearly see how disappointed I was by his vocals. I ended up seeing his Phantom back to back in very quick succession and I ended up assuming he was recovering from a cold or something. I remember listening to audios from around 2014 and his voice was great! There was this operatic, booming quality to his singing voice that I really liked and I had a feeling that he would sound better live.

I'm actually really sad to hear that in a performance 4 months later, he still continues to sound strained. That tells me that Jeremy Stolle is probably having some sort of vocal problems. I'm not an Otolaryngologist or a Laryngologist, so I'm not going to speculate on the cause of his vocal strain. What I can say is that listening to every available audio I can find of his Phantom, you can hear the gradual change in his singing voice.

#wow by the end I really bummed myself out #asks #anonymous #you know what I'm going to file this under #quick thoughts #that's where all my opinions go #even though this was not quick because I spent more time than I care to admit listening to Phantom audios #I was not lying when I said every available audio

[cielie-voss]

Vera Doyle - Easy Company's redheaded Angel

Part One

Part two

Part three

Masterlist

This is a story about my OC Vera Cecile Doyle. It started as a Oneshot but somehow turned out to be much longer. 😂 The first chapter is a bit boring, but you need to star somewhere, right? Ok, so, now let me introduce to you my favorite redheaded woman: Vera Cecile Doyle.

I do not own anything but my own character (Vera Doyle). This fanfiction is only based on the tv series band of brothers and the portrayal by the actors, not on the real heroes of the airborne who fought during world war 2.

She was 13 when they left France and moved to America. Two years after Hitler came to power and the rise of the Nazis. Her father, an Irish doctor, fell in love with a French nurse during the last great war and stayed in France for love after the war. Alsace was her beloved home, in the small village of Weyersheim she felt comfortable between fig trees and rose bushes. The world seemed to be at her feet, as soon as she opened her mouth and crooned soft melodies like the birds, everyone was instantly hooked.

The red-haired girl was often found in the fields with the horses, goats, sheep or in the stable with the kittens. She liked to climb trees and enjoyed the fresh fruit she picked from the branches.

And although she missed her home and her family, she was never homesick. She found her second home in the USA, even if she never felt as comfortable as in France. Shortly after her arrival, her wonderful singing fell silent and she only let it sound to herself. For a long time, she struggled to fit in, make friends. Although she didn't stand out much in Louisiana when she slipped French words into her sentences, she struggled a lot with being accepted by others. She was always an outsider. The redhead with a French mother and an Irish father. Many nicknames have accumulated over the years. Witch. Paddy. Froggy. Frenchie. Ginger. New ones kept coming and at some point she stopped counting.

Since her father was a doctor and even had his own practice, it made sense that she would become a nurse like her mother. And she was good. Actually very good. The patients loved her. There was something very specific about her manner, people could feel comfortable in her presence without her doing anything, they trusted her and immediately felt better when she just walked into the room and smiled. Not only did she learn how to treat simple wounds, her father took her to every patient, explained and showed her everything he knew until she finally knew almost as much as he did. She fixed broken bones, relocated joints under his supervision, and with his help also tended to more serious injuries, men who got caught in a saw and cut off a finger, gunshot wounds when a shotgun accidentally went off. If she had wanted, she could have replaced her father on many days.

After Pearl Harbor was bombed and the USA was involved in the war, like most young people her age, she enlisted in the army. Like her mother, she wanted to take care of wounded soldiers as a nurse and bring new hope to the injured with her kind. Of course, her parents weren't thrilled about it. They survived the last war, its horrors, death and destruction. And they didn't want to subject their little princess to that. But she never cared about what others said, she always did what came into her mind and nobody could stop her. One of her father's bad traits that she inherited.

Her talents and exceptional knowledge were quickly noticed. She originally volunteered for USANC, but after a few months she was offered to join a unit as a medic. Something completely new. Only a few women were granted the opportunity to join an actual battalion. Of course she agreed. She always wanted to do her best and probably she could do that better directly at the front and in the field than just in a hospital. After a few weeks she was assigned to Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, the best of the best.

Although she was really happy about it and incredibly proud, some worries entered her mind. She was alone among men. She knew it wouldn't be taken very well if a woman, the weaker sex, mingled with a company of men. But she stood by her decision. After all, there must have been a reason why she had been offered this job. In the fall of 1942 she met Easy Company and joined them in their training.

"I'm Vera Cecile Doyle." With a friendly smile on her lips, she took the man's hand in front of her and shook it.

"I am pleased to meet you. I'm George, George Luz." His dark eyes studied her as he shook her hand. Neither of them knew that this would develop into an incredible friendship. George was the first to introduce himself and take her under his wing. He took care of her and introduced her to the others. He's the reason she finally fit in, the first time since she left France.

“Another Irishman? As if Malarkey wasn't enough.” was Bill Guarnere's first statement when George invited her to a bar on a Friday night. But a close friendship was soon to develop between the two, which could best be described as a love-hate relationship.

She first met Skip and Penkala properly on a rainy day. They came to her rescue when she slipped through the mud and cracked her ankle on her first run up the Currahee. Of course, Sobel immediately forbade the men to help her, but when Sobel was nowhere in sight, the two supported her again and again until they arrived safely at the foot of the mountain again.

"Come on, we'll help you.", Skip offered her when she could barely walk and hobbled to the Mess Hall after everyone else. He carefully put her arm over his shoulder to support her. Alex did the same with her other arm and together they brought her out of the rain to a barrack where Eugene Roe examined her ankle.

Of course she could have taken care of her ankle on her own, but the dark-haired Cajun man didn't give her any other chance. A piercing look was enough to silence her. He reluctantly bandaged her ankle after she repeatedly insisted that everything was fine. He would have preferred a real doctor to look at it. But she thought a simple, firm cast would do. Even later, not only Roe will despair of her stubbornness.

She gritted her teeth and finally walked into the Mess Hall with Muck and Penkala where they sat down with George, Perconte, Bull and some others. For a long time she didn't notice another redhead watching her eat, she was too deep in a conversation with George, who was sitting in front of her.

"Are you going to stare her to death or are you finally going to talk to her?" whispered Muck to Malarkey. Both sat diagonally across from Vera and Muck kept trying to have a conversation with Malarkey, who in turn was unresponsive.

"What?" It took a hearty jab with the elbow to snap Malarkey out of his trance-like state and turn back to Muck.

"Talk to her before your eyes start popping out of your head.", he asked Don, but Malarkey just shook his head and tried unsuccessfully to talk his way out of the situation.

"No, maybe later. I don't want to interrupt their conversation." Muck and Penkala both rolled their eyes and Penkala, who was sitting next to Vera, finally nudged her arm.

"Hey, your parents are from Ireland, aren't they?" he finally asked when Vera turned to face him. Mouthful of mashed potatoes, she nodded hastily.

"Yes, my dad's from Ireland," she explained after swallowing the tasteless mash.

"What a coincidence!" Muck clapped his hands in surprise, and although his surprise was poorly acted, or perhaps because of it, Vera inevitably had to smile. "Our dear friend Don here also has Irish roots!"

Vera looks at Malarkey a little surprised, but she should have noticed already that there was something irish about him.

"Really?" she asked. Malarkey nodded a little uncertainly at first, but after a reassuring smile from Penkala, he started talking and smiled politely at her. A lively conversation developed about their origins and they realized that their families came from the same area. Donald talked about his family, Vera about hers, Muck and Penkala leaned back with a satisfied grin and watched as something very special developed between the two. Later both should be able to understand each other without words, as if they had an inner connection to each other that allows them to hear each other's thoughts.

Later, when everyone reunited for the next exercise session, the two Irishmen were practically glued to each other, whispering, laughing and talking to each other as if they were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years.

"Imma kill the guy who came up with the brilliant idea of ​​bringing the two irish bastards together," Guarnere growled at the sight and turned to Joe Toye. Joe, however, had to make an effort to hide his grin.

But all in all she settled in well in the company and found her place. She developed deep friendships with some of the men. She, Malarkey, Muck and Penkala were almost inseparable and George Luz rarely left her side.

Even though the training was hell and Sobel tried everything to make their lifes as difficult and uncomfortable as possible, she loved the time there. She could finally do something meaningful with what she loved doing. Her strive for challenge and significance was fulfilled in the Army.

The day of days was fast approaching. Before they left the country by ship, she had the chance to say goodbye to her family. Her mother cried bitterly and even her father, whom she never saw cry, shed a few tears as he hugged them goodbye. No one knew if they would ever see each other again. And so they stood on the platform for minutes and hugged each other.

Vera had had her hair cut the morning before. Her red locks, gleaming like copper in the sun, barely reached her shoulders now. As a souvenir of her beloved daughter, her mother took one of the strands, wrapped a fine ribbon around it and placed it in the box on her bedside table along with her most valuable jewelry. Her father had insisted on having one last photograph taken so they could forever look at their innocent daughter when they missed her. Vera also put a photograph of her parents in her breast pocket so that she could always carry it with her.

Although she missed her old homeland very much and would give anything to be back in France, she prayed to go to the Pacific so she would not see the suffering and destruction in Europe with her own eyes. It would kill her from the inside.

The train was approaching and she already had her mother at arm's length. But she tried again to cling to her only daughter.

"Maman...", Vera sighed and now had to fight back the tears herself.

"N'y vas pas, ma chérie, restes avec moi." Her mother sobbed, but Vera couldn't comply with the request to stay with her.

"I love you. I'll be back, I promise!" She had to say goodbye to her parents and disappeared into the crowd that was piling onto the train. Wistfully she looked out of the window and saw how her parents were getting smaller and smaller until the train went around a curve and the small station disappeared.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #my first oc #warren skip muck #alex penkala #george luz #eugene roe

[jade-parcels]

The genshin men: fatherhood edition

With: Childe, Zhongli, Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Venti, Albedo and Baizhu

—————————

Childe:

Ajax loves kids and he’ll make that known early on in your relationship

Like...This man wants five or more kids but he’ll settle for four. He dreams of a big family, getting to surround himself with you and your kids every night for family dinners, everyone getting together for big birthday parties or reunions! That’s his dream life! Plus, in Snezhnaya, most families have more than two kids anyways

He will cry so hard when his babies are placed in his arms for the first time, I mean he’s a mess. Nose is running, eyes puffy, lost of sniffling lmao he is so excited to be a dad!! Don’t you dare tell the other Harbingers how much he cried...What do you mean you took a picture when he wasn’t looking??? Hey??!?!

With his obscene amount of mora, he’ll buy a huge house that will accommodate everyone. Anything you want will be purchased that day or within 48 hours, the same goes for the kids

But they’ll all learn to be thankful for what they have. They’ll learn to fight, fish and speak multiple languages. He has high expectations but let’s face it, he’ll be proud of them no matter what

You’re gonna have to be the one to put your foot down though because Ajax doesn’t enjoy being the ‘mean parent’, he has trouble saying no to the kiddos which can create some tension between you and your husband. He has good intentions of course!! He doesn’t wanna say no to those cute, freckled faces!!

Zhongli:

Zhongli is nervous about having kids because he’s immortal. So this will go one of two ways. 1. You have the baby and the baby ends up not being immortal (or you adopt a baby who is not immortal) Then he loses you both. OR 2. You have the baby and it inherits his immortality and becomes an adeptus. Now he and the baby will have to watch you die while they both life forever.

Either way...It hurts him to think about because he loves you!! He wants to have a family with you!! He wants to give you that perfect family life every human desires!! But he’s torn

You two will just have to figure it out.

Zhongli will be a strong, male figure for your kid(s) and he will instill that traditional kindness and respect into their behavior. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ always, always offer to help someone who needs it, do good deeds and you will feel accomplished, be the best you you can be, alway try your hardest because that’s all that matters

He will be sure that your kid(s) always feel loved ALWAYS. Zhongli will tell them stories, cook for them, take them to school, anything that needs to be done. When you’ve had a rough day, he’ll step in to take over for the night without being asked. He shows interest in everything your kid(s) like and he will do his damn best to display every piece of artwork they make or every pretty rock they find

He...will make a great dad :’)

Kaeya:

Ooooh brother, at first Kaeya says no he doesn’t want kids but...Then he starts thinking about it

He observes the happy families that walk around the cobblestone streets of Mondstadt, how the kiddos smile and laugh with their parents. He’ll patrol in the afternoons, usually rounding the corner just in time to see the city’s kids leave school for the day, watching as they all run down the street to go home to their parents or play in the fountain together...Yeah, that really warms his heart

He’d want one or two kids, preferably two to avoid an only child being lonely. He isn’t on the best terms with Diluc but he can admit that they had a great childhood together, playing at the winery and running around as brothers do

Kaeya would be a very patient, understanding father. He doesn’t have much of a temper so he’d use the kids’ mistakes as learning opportunities instead of getting upset at them

He would be obsessed with the kids when they’re babies though oh man if you thought you had baby fever, he has it times ten! He loves holding the baby, watching with a twinkling eye as his baby grasps his thumb with its tiny hand... adorable

And if your kids inherited his eyes, his star shaped pupils that his ancestors passed down to him...He’s gonna get emotional

Everyone at the knights’ headquarters and the Angel’s Share will get sick of him REALLY fast cause he won’t stop bragging about how cute and smart his kids are lmao

Diluc:

Diluc would be such a soft dad don’t even get me started

He loves you so much of course he wants to have kids with you! Is that even a question?? He won’t be the one to bring it up unless he gets the feeling that you want kids but once you ask, he’ll agree so fast

He’ll be grateful to even have one kid with you :’) and he’ll be fine with however many kids YOU want. You want one kid? Perfect! You want four? No problem, the manor is big enough for ten! You...you want ten...? Time to hire some more maids then lmao

Diluc is a worry wart though, he’ll be afraid to hold the baby, feed it, bathe it, he’s terrified of hurting the baby or the baby suddenly hating him. So just help him out!! Cause when he gets comfortable with the baby, he’ll be in full dad mode

He isn’t embarrassed to walk around the manor, conducting business with a baby strapped to his chest!

Diluc is a very kind, gentle dad who will always offer helpful solutions to the kiddos’ problems. He’ll make sure all of their needs are met while also trying to avoid spoiling them... Too much... There will be a fair amount of spoiling...

His own father wasn’t too affectionate with him so that’s why he’ll be affectionate with his kids! Hugs and kisses when he tucks them in at night, big dad hugs when they get home from school, holding their hands in the busy streets of Mondstadt. His father was a great dad! He just aims to be better.

Xiao:

Like Zhongli, he worries about the mortality thing. Since he’s an Adeptus, his kid will certainly be an Adeptus too if you have kids together.

He also worries that his kid(s) will hate him. His duty is to kill demons which means that rain or shine, holidays, special occasions, day or night he’s gotta be ready to go slaughter demonic beings. So he’ll inevitably miss out on important stages in the kiddos’ lives

And admittedly... He’ll be scared of his kids lmao

They’re screaming, crying, barfing, pooping, laughing, screaming again...He can’t predict their behavior. It’s unsettling. All of that goes away one night when you sit him down and place your sleeping baby in his arms. His eyes go wide...And he just watches. This tiny, little baby...Feels no fear for him. It’s comforted by his presence. He almost cries...ALMOST

He’s still pretty much the same Xiao we all know and love but now he has a kid. “Slaying demons is what I do...Hey, go back inside and finish your dinner. Yes, even your vegetables. I don’t care that you don’t like them-...Fine. Don’t tell your mother, bring them to me. I’ll eat them” cute :)

He’s a protective dad and husband, he’d never let anyone or anything harm his beloved family

Venti:

Venti....does not want kids. He thinks they’re cute! He likes the idea of kids but he knows he wouldn’t enjoy actually having kids

You two already have so much fun together!! You don’t need a kid!! You guys have dogs!! Dogs are like kids! But they’re more independent and they’re cuter!

He’ll feel bad if you want kids and he doesn’t, he really will! But it’ll be nearly impossible to convince him cause he’s made his mind up :/

Venti’ll make it up to you somehow though, he’ll take you out more and show you all of the adventures you guys can have if there aren’t kids around

But for the sake of fatherhood headcanons, let’s pretend he gave in. Venti would be a very caring dad. He would cuddle the hell out of this kiddo and sing to them :’) the only problem is that Venti doesn’t like being tethered to one place for too long so he tends to take off and not come back for a few days... :(

Albedo:

Albedo wants kids mostly just to see what fatherhood would be like. He’s always been curious about what that part of his life would be like so why not have a kid

He’d be good with one kid, two at most cause after practically raising Klee, he knows how some kids can be and...He doesn’t have the mental capacity for more than two kids at a time lmao

He tries his best to show more emotion in his face. We all know he usually sits like this 😐 and goes ‘wow im so happy right now’. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was bored out of his mind right? So he’s gotta work on that. And when he musters up a smile for the baby and it smiles back at him????? Yeah...He’s gonna try to smile a lot more now

He definitely softens up once he becomes a dad, he shows emotion more than he used to and surprisingly, he takes time off of work. Shocker, I know! He decides that he’s been in the lab long enough and that he wants to be able to be there for these moments with you and his kid(s) :’) :’) He trusts Sucrose and Timaeus to take over for him for a couple hours

He keeps a journal for each kid and writes down the date and time they have their firsts or just interesting things they do ->

- 8/4: Baby sees and plays with a cat for the first time

- 9/5: Baby smacked me in the face and laughed so hard she threw up

-9/12: Baby learns that pulling my hair gets my attention. She now continues to do so

-10/15: Baby stays at Aunt Klee’s house for the first time

Baizhu:

Baizhu really loves kids, he works with them a lot and he considers Qiqi to be his daughter anyway but in terms of you guys having a kid together, with his condition he can probably only handle one kid running around

He will do his absolute best to be a good dad. Even if he feels like death, he’ll help change diapers, feed the baby, care for it when you need a break. He isn’t contagious so when you’re sleeping and he feels gross, he’ll sit back against the pillows with the baby on his chest, the three of you resting together (though he doesn’t fall asleep...that would be dangerous for the baby)

Baizhu already tends to nag at you about your health and lifestyle choices but now?? He’ll be a menace. He’ll be constantly evaluating your baby’s condition, checking to see if a certain food is giving them a rash or making sure their skin isn’t drying out. He’s hyper aware of your baby’s health and will be the one to treat them if they get sick

He’s a busy guy since he runs the pharmacy but he will always do his best to be present for your baby’s big milestones! And when your kid cries cause Baizhu’s medicine tastes like shit, he’ll do his best to not be disappointed in their reaction lmao

When you leave him alone with the baby, he’ll wrap a scarf around himself to tie the baby to his chest while he works and...he looks so cute :) dad baizhu <3 <3 <3 <3

Bonus points for him buying the baby toy medical equipment so he can get your kiddo interested in medicine :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact writing #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact baizhu #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact venti #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact childe #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #baizhu x reader #childe x reader

[ikaroux]

Xiao: Always (part 2) (EN)

f!reader

The Japanese dubbing of Kirito (Sword art online), helped me a lot to imagine how Xiao's emotions would be expressed.

The ost that inspired me a lot for most of the scenes:

Ori and the will of the wisps: Fading of the Light and The story of Niwen (The ost in general fits Xiao perfectly <3)

Masterlist

Part 1

You had been in Liyue for several months now for your research. You had met several people there, some of whom had turned into real friendships. Hu Tao, Ganyu and the lovely Qiqi were the only girls with whom you had formed a real friendship and then there was Mr. Zhongli with whom you liked to talk a lot.

But above all you met Xiao, a taciturn young man with a cold look in his eyes. After some research, you learned who he really was, a follower protecting Liyue at the risk of his life. He was also known as the last surviving Yaksha, fighting day and night against the emanations of the ancient evil gods killed by the Geo Archon.

Zhongli, who had revealed to you who he really was, often spoke to you about Xiao. Sometimes he would ask you to bring him some medicine specially designed for him to relieve the pain that was eating him up inside.

This was not a big problem for you, as you were staying at the Wangshu Inn. It was perfectly located in the centre of Liyue, making it easier for you to get to different research sites. Zhongli had explained to you that this inn was a front, built mainly to relieve Xiao a little from his eternal burden.

Since your meeting with the adept, you had never dared to call him, for fear of disturbing him. You simply left Zhongli's small gifts in his flats, placed prominently on the table in the centre of the room.

A gift... you had wanted to give him one for some time, but not knowing his tastes, it was difficult to decide. What if he doesn't like it? What if he got mad at you? What if... You then thought of the innkeeper in Wangshu who had known Xiao for a while, she must have known a thing or two about the follower's tastes!

After consulting Verr Goldet on what Xiao liked, she taught you how to prepare the young man's favourite dish. So you prepared tofu with almonds once or twice a week as a gift to him. But even so, he never deigned to show himself to you again.

Yet Xiao was never far from you, always hidden in the shadows watching you, protecting you from the dangers that lurked.

The bond he felt between you and him had never disappeared. Near you, all the pain, all the suffering he felt disappeared. He knew that you were human, so fragile, so fleeting compared to him who had lived for millennia, yet in his eyes you were a true goddess. The night he saw you surrounded by this halo of light, his world was turned upside down. Of course he had discussed this with his master, Morax, or rather Zhongli as he liked to be called from now on.

Xiao asked him during one of their conversations:

"I don't understand, I can never take my eyes off her and my heart - he placed his hand on his chest, clutching the white tunic he was wearing - hurts when I lose sight of her for even a few seconds. I don't understand... Sir Zhongli, I don't understand..."

His voice often broke at such moments. Zhongli then placed his hand on the follower's shoulder, a gentle smile on his face.

"Talk to him and you will finally understand. "he would say to her each time.

"I can't... If I stay around her too long... the darkness around me will eventually engulf her too. "

The sadness in Zhongli's eyes matched the sadness in Xiao's. The adept would often leave without the answer he so eagerly awaited, going to the balcony of the inn to sit on the railing and gaze at the stars. When his gaze turned to his room, more precisely to the small round wooden table in the centre, he was looking for proof of your presence. Almost every day you would leave him an offering, medicine, the almond tofu he loved so much, a flower, a mineral or an artefact you had found on your expeditions. Every little gift you gave him made him forget his torments for a short while, savouring the joy he felt at the time. He treasured every item you gave him, carefully stored in a small gold box encrusted with jade.

When the moon was high in the sky, Xiao would sometimes go to your room, passing by your balcony to see if you were sleeping. Sometimes he would go inside the moonlit room to see your sleeping face. He thought you were terribly beautiful, he had never been so fascinated by anyone, let alone a mortal. He would sometimes tuck a strand of your hair back behind your ear, slightly disturbing your sleep, and you would wrinkle your nose with a groan, causing him to back away hastily.

When Xiao was sure you were still asleep, he would take the opportunity to give you a gift of his own, placed on your bedside table.

As he did every night, he would end up sitting on the roof of your balcony watching for any threat to you.

By the time the sun came up, Xiao was already gone. When you woke up, you would find objects that were not there the day before. It could be a crystal nucleus or sometimes a Qingxin flower, which made you smile every time. You kept all the gifts he gave you as a treasure.

Today you had to go to Mondstadt to visit your friend Lisa, whom you had met in Sumeru. She had come one year to visit her former teachers, introducing herself to the students in the class. The two of you had talked a lot, creating a bond of friendship that you had maintained through correspondence.

In your last exchanges, she expressed a wish to see you, which you gladly accepted. You had planned to stay there for a week, so it was not surprising that you were preparing some things to take with you.

Even though your protector never showed up in front of you, at least not since that night when he gave you his name, you wanted to leave him a letter to explain that you would be back in Liyue in a week.

Before leaving, you left him a plate of tofu with almonds, your letter carefully placed next to the plate.

You didn't think that the wind would blow your letter away from him before he had even read it.

Xiao was accompanying Aether and two other companions for the day. They were to help him confront creatures once sealed in an ancient temple near the nine pillars of Cuijue Slope. The battle was long and difficult, but in the end they managed to exterminate the monsters, allowing Aether to retrieve the treasure that lay deep in the ruins. Xiao hurried back to the Wangshu Inn, feeling a bottomless pit forming inside him. He had been feeling uneasy for a while, a part of him wanted to make sure you were okay. When he arrived at his flat, he saw that you had left him a plate of tofu with almonds, and he took a bite, although he was too nervous to really enjoy them properly.

Xiao put his hand over his face in great pain.

His chest hurt terribly, the voices in his head tortured him again and his body seemed to be chained by the darkness inside him. Why was this? His karma hadn't weighed so heavily on him since he... since he... had met you.

He exhaled loudly, a sudden fear filling his body, making his hands tremble. Without further questioning, he quickly disappeared through his anemo vision and landed in your room. It was pitch black and looked horribly empty. The books usually scattered around your room were gone, your things were gone, your wardrobe was empty.

"No... no... don't go... (Y/n) don't go..."

His voice trembled in shock as his eyes still searched for traces of your presence.

"(Y/n)..."

Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing left. You were gone.

He couldn't even feel your presence on Liyue's land.

Had something happened to you? What if you had been attacked by monsters? The thought terrified him. He thought of your sleeping face, so peaceful. He thought of the promise he had made to himself to protect you.

Your absence was as painful to him as the day Aether told him Rex Lapis was dead. He couldn't bear it.

Xiao vowed to find you again and if you accepted him, he would stay by your side, he would not run away again.

He would listen to you sing again.

He searched for you for seven long days, which was a real physical and psychological torture for him. Aether, worried about his friend, helped him in his search, informing Zhongli, Ganyu and Hu Tao of your disappearance and the state in which the follower was.

Xiao always carried one of the gifts you had given him, holding on to it in the hope of finding you safe and sound.

With his mask over his face and his spear in hand, he slaughtered every hilichurl camp, hoping to find some trace of you, something that would prove to him that you were still alive. Disappointment after disappointment, the anger and hatred grew inside him every day, struggling to control it. He was leaving behind a pool of blood, soon he would sink into madness, feeling the sting of the karmic chains that made him sink a little deeper. How could he have formed such a strong bond with someone that he lost control?

"Xiao, we're going to find her. "

Zhongli's reassuring hand rested on the follower's shoulder.

Xiao had not removed his mask, but the former Geo Archon could still see tears of pain flowing from his eyes. His hand moved from his shoulder to the top of the young man's head. He knew what Xiao was going through, after all he too had lost loved ones in the past.

A varnished lily flower suddenly appeared under Xiao's nose. Ganyu held it out to him with a thin smile on his face. The Yaksha, who had watched you for a long time, knew that this flower was your favourite, many times he had seen you studying it, drawing it, smelling it, admiring it...

He could clearly see your face beaming as you drew it, singing a Sumeru tune.

He slowly grasped the flower that the young woman was holding out to him with renewed hope.

You had been leaving Lisa for a few hours now, promising her and your new friends that you would return to see them soon. You were anxious to get to the Wangshu Inn to rest. You missed your friends in Liyue and the absence of the Yaksha warrior around you left your heart empty.

You knew that he was never far from you. You knew that at night he sometimes stroked your hair, thinking you were asleep. You knew how soft his eyes were when he watched you draw.

You knew that he loved to listen to you sing.

Your lips curled upwards, happy at the idea of finding his presence. For this occasion you had grabbed an anemo crystal core which you intended to offer his.

When you reached the border between Mondstadt and Liyue, the atmosphere suddenly seemed heavy. You could not hear the birds singing, nor the wind cradling the trees.

Time seemed to stand still.

Alerted, you quickened your pace, crossing the wooden bridge that separated you from the shore.

The sudden sound of a branch breaking made you jump. You looked towards the source of the noise, finding yourself face to face with a Brutorocheux chief surrounded by some Brutoshamans and common Brutocollinus.

Your voice and body trembled.

"Why are they here? There have never been so many monsters on the border..."

The Brutocollinus came forward, threatening, it screamed, the breath knocking you to the ground. The smaller ones stepped forward, weapons in hand, while the Brutoshamans chanted their incantations.

Fear froze you in place, you were not a warrior, far from it. Your pupils dilated with fear and shook as the Brutoshaman ran towards you, fist in the air, ready to crush you. By reflex you had grown brambles around you to protect yourself.

But the creature in front of you was of a geo nature, impervious to the little thorns in your plants. Your trembling hand rose before you, summoning a flower capable of projecting poison, but again the monster crushed your hopes as did the flower beneath its feet.

"As long as you are in Liyue, I will protect you. Call me and I'll be there in a second."

Fear choked you, tears beading in the corners of your eyes as you remembered the words of the man you loved.

Xiao.

The sight of his gentle smile as he looked at you, thinking you hadn't noticed his presence.

Xiao.

The tender look in his eyes as he listened to you singing hidden behind a tree.

Xiao...

His hands savouring the feel of your hair between his fingers as you slept.

"XIAO! "

The moment you shouted his name, a gust of wind swept through the area. Blows rained down before you, and the brutocollinus and brutoshamans were the first to perish.

There he was, leaping to an inhuman height, a mask hiding his face and a menacing black aura covering him completely. The spear he always carried with him was pointed at the enemy as the Yaksha fell violently to the ground, sending out anemo illusions from his weapon that skewered the creature. He repeated his move once more, shattering its shell, before finishing it off by charging it with extreme speed. The Brutorocheux fell heavily to the ground, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Xiao moved his hand in front of his face, making his mask disappear, and then planted his spear on the ground. He ran towards you over the brambles you had created, not caring about the thorns that tore his legs. He knelt beside you, his eyes filled with terror and concern.

You looked into his eyes, shocked and trembling.

Finally you exploded, screaming and crying now that it was all over. You fell into his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck, partially muffling your screams and tears.

He had found you. At last...

His heart broke free from its chains, relieved to see you safe and sound.

He felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest, so strong was it beating.

When he had reached you after your call and had seen you surrounded by monsters, monsters that were there because of him, because of the slaughter he had made in the camps of his creatures, the rage had risen in him. If you had been hurt because of him, he would never forgive himself.

He would never have forgiven himself.

He was surprised by your sudden embrace, not really knowing how he should react. What did humans do in such moments?

He raised his arms hesitantly, placing his hands gently on your back. Seeing that you didn't reject him, he hugged you a little tighter, soothing his soul and body with your warmth.

"Don't disappear again..."

His voice was husky, vibrant, emotion knotting his throat. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of the flowers that covered you.

"Xiao..."

Your tears continued to fall as your hands clutched at his clothes.

He surprised you by planting a kiss on your neck. He left his face hidden there, not wanting to be seen so vulnerable. His trembling hands around you were more than enough to describe the emotions that were currently running through him.

When your tears stopped, his hands gently grasped your shoulders, pulling you back to get a better look at your face. He wiped away the tears that remained on your cheeks before placing the palm of his hand on them, caressing you with his thumb. Your hand joined his, closing your eyes to savour the sensation.

His forehead came to rest against yours, exhaling a shaky breath.

The happiness of finally having her so close to you involuntarily activated your dendro vision. Varnished lily flowers bloomed around you, and firefly-like particles of light swirled near your faces.

"Stay close to me. Always. "

"Always. "

Xiao didn't know exactly what he was doing as he tilted his head to your lips. The only thing he knew was that he wanted this connection badly.

The bond between you was stronger than any contract, he loved you, by the archons, he loved you more than anyone else.

An emotion so human but so beautiful...

Your lips... tasted like a sweet dream.

Bonus n°1:

"Ah, there they are! "

Paimon yelled to his companions, pointing at you and Xiao. Zhongli was the first to arrive and observed the scene unfolding before his eyes.

"XIAO! "

Paimon shouted, his voice carrying to you. Xiao parted violently from your lips, falling on his butt in the process, his face completely red with embarrassment.

Aether, who had arrived just after Zhongli, grabbed the little fairy in his arms, planting his hand over her mouth to silence her. Hu Tao and Ganyu were waving at you, reassured that you were okay. Xiao had completely forgotten that they had come with them.

He knew that with that chatty fairy and Hu Tao not far away, the rest of the day was going to be hell for him. He wanted to grab you in his arms and run away from his troubles, but when his gaze turned to Zhongli's, his heart was suddenly lighter with a burden. The gentle smile of his master and the kindly gaze he projected upon him broke the last remaining chains of doubt within him.

Bonus #2:

Xiao had offered you on the way back the varnished Lily flower that Ganyu had given him earlier, hanging it in your hair. You walked behind your companions towards the Wangshu Inn, laughter and loud discussions (too loud for his taste) were going on.

Xiao stood very close to you without physically touching you. You never took your eyes off his face, which he noticed. He abruptly turned his head in the opposite direction, the tips of his ears glowing crimson, forcing an affectionate smile on your face.

After a few minutes of silent walking between the two of you, he finally asked you a question.

"Why did you leave? -He looked at you again, his eyes full of emotion-"I thought you were gone forever...or worse, dead. "

His voice trembled at the thought, making your eyes widen. In a comforting gesture, you grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. The gesture surprised him, he was not used to physical (or emotional!) contact.

"Didn't you read my letter? "

Xiao blinked, once, twice, three times.

"What letter? "

"The one I left on the table next to the tofu dish. "

Xiao's face became totally impassive. He tried to piece together a visual image of his room in his mind, seeing your dish on his table very clearly, but no matter how hard he concentrated, no letter came to him.

"There was no letter. "

"Oh... Maybe it was blown away then?"

Xiao remained silent as you explained that you had gone to see a friend in Mondstadt. He listened to you without really listening, an array of emotions passing through his eyes. He needed someone to blame, anyone he could vent his anger and frustration on.

The wind... The wind...

A malevolent smile spread across his face and his amber eyes glowed with a menacing gleam.

He brought his hand up to his face, a gesture he made to reveal his Yaksha mask.

His hoarse voice whispered dangerously:

"Barbatos..."

Further on, in Mondstadt, Venti felt a shiver run through his body, freezing him in place.

#genshin xiao #xiao genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact #genshin icons #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #xiao imagines #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #xiao fluff

[baepsaesbae]

None of Your Business

Pairing— Jung Hoseok x reader  

Genre— SMUT, enemies to lovers au, business/professional life au, slight angst, slight fluff, mutual pining bc im a slut for that

Warnings— inappropriate workplace behavior, explicit unprotected sex, face sitting, slight biting, one (1) butt slap, dirty talk, swearing, switch!Hoseok, Hoseok being a god damn nuisance, (also I’m not a business person so if you are and I state inaccurate/dumb things I apologize in advance)

Word Count— 8.9k

Summary— You have a shot at attaining a huge promotion at your company. The only problem standing in your way is the same one that annoyed you in college. Jung Hoseok. How will you manage to spend an entire weekend at a conference juggling impressing your supervisors while simultaneously battling Hoseok?

A/N— This super cool banner was made by the one and only @kimtaehyunq​, thank you so much! Please let me know what you guys think. Feel free to leave a comment or send an ask! 

The business world has always been mercilessly cutthroat; that’s one of the first things business students learn when they enter college. The competition to get an internship at a top company was fierce. Recruiting has to start at least a year in advance if you even want to give yourself a chance.

Luckily for you, you were the top student in your program. Well, one of the top students. Over the past four years, your position had been flip flopping with some surprisingly competent bonehead who annoyingly plagued your life.

“Excited to be graduating this semester, ___?” an all too familiar voice interrupted your studying.

“Excited to graduate as top of the class? Yes, of course,” you replied coldly. 

“Top of the class? That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” the handsome boy sat on your table.

“I think it’ll be pretty much set in stone after this last final,” you returned your attention to your notes.

“Well, even if you’re number one, I think experience matters a lot in this field,” the boy refused to leave you alone. 

“Then it’s a good thing I did an internship with one of the top companies over the summer,” you glared at him.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget about the internship that you stole from me?” the boy pouted.

“I was obviously more qualified. And how could you say that when you stole my opportunity to go on a study abroad trip with my favorite professor last Spring Break? I’m still furious that he chose you over me solely because you were sleeping with his daughter,” you retorted.

“That was a coincidence! I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that,” he tried to defend himself.

“Whatever. Do me a favor and leave me alone, Hoseok. Hopefully today will be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“That’s kind of sad to think about. Who else will get under my skin and annoy me every time they open their mouth?” Hoseok bantered, “Also, I told you to call me Hobi.”

“That would imply that we’re on friendly terms. I don’t like lying, Hoseok.”

“Fine. Good luck on that last final. See you around,” Hoseok hopped off the table and patted your head.

“Don’t touch me,” you grumbled as he walked away.

That was five years ago.

The company that you interned with gave you a job offer immediately after graduation. Quickly moving up through the ranks proved to be an easy feat since your tenacious nature made you the ideal employee. 

You were currently waiting outside of the CEO’s office. Seconds felt like hours as you mindlessly bounced your leg. It was eerily silent, and all you could hear were the click clacks of the receptionist’s keyboard as she worked. You looked around at the bleak décor that was a sorry excuse for modernism as you racked your brain. Were you in trouble? Did something happen? You were summoned up for a meeting but had no clue what it was going to be about. 

Once you were finally called in, you were greeted by both the CEO and VP of the company. 

“___, please take a seat,” the CEO politely smiled, “As you know, I am getting old. I am unmarried, so therefore I have no one to oversee the company after I’m gone. The executive council and I have been looking for people to fill my shoes. Or at the very least, take a seat on the executive council if one of them were to take my place.”

“Your numbers have been exceptional this month,” the VP chimed in, “And every month prior. After much deliberation, your name has been cast into the lot.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Being a member of the executive council at your age was almost unheard of.

“There is one other candidate that has also been hand selected at the other branch. You both are to attend a conference in which you will mingle with executives from other companies. There will also be a time in which you will pitch an idea to me on how to make this company better,” the CEO continued when he saw your loss for words.

“First and foremost I would like to thank you for this opportunity. I will do my best to live up to your expectations,” you bowed to show your gratitude. 

“Perfect. The conference is in two weeks. I believe that should give you ample time to prepare your presentation,” the VP shook your hand.

After shaking hands with the CEO, you turned to leave. However, something was nagging you. 

“May I ask who the other candidate is?” you inquired.

“Jung Hoseok from the northern branch,” the VP answered without missing a beat. 

“Ah,” your brain exploded.

“Do you know him?” the CEO asked.

“We went to college together. I know of him,” you said curtly.

“Well you’ll finally get your chance to meet him. I’ve heard he’s very popular with the ladies at his branch. That’s not pertinent to his skills; however, you can’t blame an old man for wanting to know the gossip of his own employees,” the old man chuckled.

“Of course,” you smiled politely as you excused yourself from the office.

Jung Hoseok? That douchebag? Just your luck to run into him again (to fight for the next step in your career no less!). You think back on all the run ins you had with him during your collegiate days. Nothing but irritating memories of the two of you competing for the top spot came to mind. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter who the other candidate was. You had to get to work and come up with a brilliant plan that will impress the CEO. You brushed the thought of Hoseok aside. It had been a couple of years, maybe he wouldn’t even remember you. There’s no need to stress out over something so trivial. 

The weekend of the conference had finally arrived. You were instructed to travel together with Hoseok. You waited alone at the airport terminal. If you were lucky, Hoseok wouldn’t show up at all. You weren’t. 

“___!” Hoseok called out your name in a sing songy voice.

“Hello Hoseok. Glad to see you haven’t changed,” you were already irritated.

“How are you? It’s been so long. You look great!” he went in for a hug but you turned away. 

He stood awkwardly with his arms in the air for a second until he bounced back. He took the seat next to you and began chatting. You answered his list of questions apathetically. 

“Did I do something to offend you?” Hoseok finally asked.

“I just think it’s funny that even after all these years, I still have to compete with you,” you retorted.

“Still hung up on that? It doesn’t even matter anymore. We got good jobs and now we’re here. Together! Isn’t that cool?”

“No, not at all. Although I guess it will be nostalgic coming out on top once again,” you smirked.

“Your competitive nature always amused me. You’re so cute when you lose,” Hoseok teased.

“I never lost to you,” you gasped.

“That’s not what that one study abroad trip with Professor whatshisname says,” he cooed. 

“Professor Namjoon! You knew he was my favorite, you prick. At least I graduated as top of the class with honors,” you argued. 

“My GPA was off by thousandths of a point. That doesn’t really bother me. But I’m glad you have something that makes you happy,” Hoseok shrugged. 

‘This is gonna be one long fucking weekend’, you thought. 

The flight was short and pleasant since Hoseok left you alone. You wanted to see as little of him as possible during this trip. You intended to get that promotion no matter what. 

After the plane landed, the two of you made your way to the hotel that was hosting the conference. 

“Hi, last name ___ and Jung?” you smiled at the hotel concierge. 

“Ah yes, you guys are here for the business conference?” the concierge asked.

“Indeed we are!” Hoseok chimed in from behind you.

“Alrighty, I got you guys all checked in. Enjoy your stay!” the concierge handed you a singular set of keys.

“Oh, I’m sorry, there must be a mistake. We’re in two separate rooms,” you politely tried to hand back the keys.

“The reservation is for a singular suite,” the concierge explained.

“Probably cheaper that way,” Hoseok reasoned while nodding.

Your fake smile faltered for a second. How the hell are you supposed to spend an entire weekend sharing a room with the most despicable person on the planet?

At least the hotel itself was grand. There was no way you’d ever be able to afford to stay in such a swanky place. The lobby was decorated with ornate marble pillars that were laced with gold trimmings. It even had a fancy fountain in the middle to greet incoming guests, which you thought was a bit overkill. 

“Excited to sleep with me, princess?” Hoseok teased, obviously picking up on your annoyance.

“Fuck off. Stay the hell away from my bed and my things,” you spat.

“Who’s to say that you won’t be able to stay away from my bed?” he smirked. 

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes as the elevator finally stopped on the top floor. 

You led the way to your shared suite with Hoseok. The trip was exhausting; you couldn’t wait to take a nap on your large luxurious bed that was probably topped with Egyptian cotton (one can dream). 

You immediately dropped your bags on the side of the room and flopped onto the bed, shutting your eyes. 

“Interesting,” Hoseok said.

You ignored him.

“Very interesting,” he continued. 

“What? What is so interesting?” you sat up and glared at him in frustration.

“Take a quick glance around the room,” he suggested.

Your heart sank, “No fucking way.”

You loved this trope in fanfics, but in real life? Fuck no, not with this asshole. Yes, there was only one luxurious king sized bed in the room. 

“Well, looks like you're going to sleep on the floor,” you smiled sweetly at him.

“The bed is huge, we can definitely share,” Hoseok argued.

“I think the fuck not,” you dropped back onto the bed, “I’m sure you’ll whore your way into someone else’s bed each night anyway.”

“I don’t think I need to, not when I’m already sharing a bed with you,” he flirted.

“Bite me, Hoseok,” you sighed, not in the mood for a tit for tat.

“Are you into that? I’d happily oblige,” he responded as he sat on the other side of the bed.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information that you are not privy to,” you huffed, turning away from him.

“Are you really going to make me sleep on the floor?” he asked quietly. 

“Would you listen to me if I said I wanted you to?” you were curious to know.

“Look, I’ll admit that I can be an asshole, but I’m not a creep. If you’re really not comfortable with sharing a bed with me I’ll sleep on the floor. All I’d ask of you is to spare me a pillow.”

There was a short silence as you mulled over your options. 

“Fine, we can share the bed. But I demand a pillow divider to be set between us,” you caved.

“Wahoo! Thank you so much for your generosity, ___. Do you want to use the bathroom to get ready for bed first, or shall I?” Hoseok celebrated.

“I’ll get ready first,” you lazily rolled off the bed and trudged to the bathroom.

You were so tired that you missed hearing Hoseok’s soft chuckle as he watched you stumble to the bathroom. He patiently waited for you to finish before it was his turn to get ready for bed. You were sound asleep by the time he was done.

The blankets were haphazardly sprawled out on your side of the bed. One leg was under the covers while the other was completely exposed. Your mouth was agape with a bit of drool seeping out, and your shirt lifted up to expose some of your tummy.

Hoseok smiled at the sight. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever be lucky enough to see you like this. He pulled down your shirt in an attempt to make you look decent, but there was nothing he could do about your drooling. He tucked you into the sheets properly, making sure that the blankets covered you up to your neck.

He settled into his side of the bed. You forgot to put up the pillow divider. Hoseok stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He turned over to face you in an attempt to get comfortable. 

‘She looks so sweet. Almost cute,’ Hoseok thought. 

He quickly brushed the thought aside. You were his rival, and have been since the first day of college years ago. He sat up and created a pillow barrier. Bickering with you first thing in the morning was the last thing he wanted. 

The first day of the conference was filled with attending various meetings while attempting to make as many networking connections as possible. You got up early and left the room before Hoseok was even awake. The less time spent with him, the better. 

Of course, completely avoiding him was impossible. You were to sit with your respective company during the meetings and presentations. The VP sat between you and Hoseok, while the CEO switched between sitting on either side. You were thankful for the separation, but nervous nonetheless.

The CEO would occasionally lean over to ask you questions about the presentations, and he intently listened to your responses. The VP would merely look over occasionally to give you a smile or wink; he acted more like moral support. You knew the entire weekend would practically be an interview, but you underestimated how anxiety inducing it would be. 

The higher ups finally left you alone when lunchtime came around. You picked up your lunch in the hotel’s decadent ballroom that had been turned into an eating area. You scouted an empty table in the far corner of the room in the hopes of finding some peace and quiet.

Hoseok had other plans. He saw you sit down at the table and happily followed you.

“Hey there buddy!” he greeted you as he sat down.

“Shouldn’t you be networking with new people?” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“I’ve been doing that since before you were awake. I think I deserve a break,” you replied.

“I forgot that you’re quite the hard worker. I couldn’t have asked for better competition,” he said.

“Was that a compliment?” you asked with an amused grin.

“Yeah, and it’s the only one you’ll ever get from me. Is your pitch to the CEO ready?” Hoseok inquired.

“It has been. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it is,” you proudly answered.

“Oh c’mon! Mine is ready too! You’re a damn fool if you think I’m gonna steal your idea. I’m just curious,” he pouted.

“Fine. I’ll tell you if you tell me yours first,” you offered.

“So distrustful,” Hoseok feigned offense, “Okay, so I think offering higher bonuses for working overtime would be a good start. There could even be competitive bonuses in each department for the person who gets the best numbers that month.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” you said at first, “But don’t you think that would just create more animosity between coworkers?”

“I think competition is a healthy motivation factor. It worked for me in college,” Hoseok defended his idea.

“Everyone is competitive in college. Especially in the business schools,” you argued.

“Yeah, but not everyone is you,” Hoseok stated. 

“Excuse me?”

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be here today if you weren’t always on my ass,” he admitted, “Being your rival was kinda fun. You got flustered so easily, it was almost cute.”

“I do not get flustered easily! Plus, it was always you who was on my ass,” you huffed.

“I see that you still do,” Hoseok laughed, “But seriously. The universe brought us together again so I guess it’s telling me to thank you.”

“That’s uncharacteristically nice of you to say,” you looked away from him to hide your reddening cheeks, “You pushed me too, so thanks for that...I guess.”

“Mhm, no problem buddy. I’ll see you in the next presentation room,” he got up to leave.

“Wait Hoseok!” you called after him.

“Yeah?” he turned around quickly.

“I didn’t tell you my idea--”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s brilliant,” he winked before walking away.

The rest of the day passed by quickly. You retired to your room, exhausted from all the forced socialization. Your mind was stuck on what Hoseok said earlier. Maybe he wasn’t as big of an asshole as you thought. Perhaps you mistook a friendly rivalry for toxic competition.

You were sprawled out across the bed in your pjs when Hoseok entered the room.

“Are you gonna sleep like that?” he asked.

“You’re gonna have to forcibly remove me from your side if you want it that badly,” you replied with your eyes still closed. 

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said as he abruptly rolled you over to your side.

“Hey!” you squeaked out in protest.

“It was either that, or I laid on top of you and suffocated you.”

“Hmph,” you let out a displeased noise.

“Oh my god, you’re so bratty. How old are you?” Hoseok chuckled.

“Old enough to know that you’re a meanie,” your response was muffled by the pillow you buried your face in.

“Sorry I’m a what?” Hoseok teased.

“A meanie!” you quickly got up and slammed a pillow into Hoseok, catching him by surprise.

“I’m the meanie? You just pelted me with a pillow!” he cowered away from you.

“And I’ll do it again!” you threatened.

“I don’t think so,” Hoseok suddenly lurched forward, tackling you back onto your side of the bed.

You’re both laughing at this point. Seeing Hoseok up close and personal made you realize how handsome he truly was. Had he always been this attractive? Hoseok’s cheerful laugh echoed throughout the room as he loomed over you, pinning you down.

“I’ll get off if you promise not to hit me with a pillow ever again,” Hoseok tried to say in a serious tone, but his smile betrayed him.

“Sorry, I can’t make such a ridiculous promise,” you sassed.

“God, you really are so bratty. Kinda cute, kinda naughty,” Hoseok tsked.

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” you stuck your tongue out at him.

Hoseok leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Oh, I’m sure there’s something I could do.”

That sent chills down your spine. This was perhaps the most intimate moment you’ve shared with someone in a long time. 

“Keep dreaming then, lover boy,” you said. Truth be told, just that one sentence turned you on, but you couldn’t let him know that.

“As you wish,” Hoseok released you and retreated back to his side of the bed. 

“Maybe you aren’t as big of an asshole as I remembered,” you chuckled.

“You thought I was an asshole?” Hoseok laughed.

“I did. Maybe I still do. Not that it matters, we’ll never see each other again after this stupid conference.”

“That’s not true,” Hoseok disagreed, “I’ll be on the executive council, so you may see me from time to time.”

“I like the confidence. Too bad it’s in vain,” you teased, “I’m going to bed. Our day starts early tomorrow.”

“Our?”

“The. The day starts early tomorrow. Just go to bed Hoseok,” your turned over to conceal the faint smile on your face. Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall. 

The second day of the conference started off as boring as the previous day. The various presenters droned on about different strategies regarding the improvement of a company with a plethora of charts and numbers to back it all up. The CEO wasn’t as talkative today to either you or Hoseok. The VP still made his reassuring gestures to you, flashing smiles and winks here and there.

“Can I see you privately after the last morning presentation?” the VP whispered to you.

“Yes, of course!” you excitedly answer. Currying the VP’s favor may come in handy later. 

After the last presentation, the VP discreetly led you to a vacant corner. His tone became serious as he began to speak.

“The CEO discussed his initial thoughts with me last night. I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s currently leaning towards Hoseok,” he explained.

The news made your heart sink.

“I’d rather see you on the executive council, if I’m being frank. My pride is on the line since I recommended you,” his voice lowered, “However, I think there is a way to sway his opinion.”

“Which is?” you eagerly asked. 

“Someone might overhear here, meet me in my room in an hour,” the VP covertly handed you his room key.

He walked away without another word. The fact that the VP was on your side gave you a faint sliver of hope. The next hour of free time was spent frantically networking while your mind was obviously elsewhere. Every now and then you heard Hoseok’s voice, and just the sound of it spurred you on to make even more connections. By the end of it, your face began to hurt from all the fake smiling. 

You were standing in front of the VP’s hotel room exactly an hour after your secret rendezvous. The door opened immediately after you knocked.

“You’re extremely punctual; that’s wonderful,” the VP observed as you entered, “Make yourself comfortable.”

You scoured the room to find a place to sit. Your uneasiness must have been obvious, as the VP gestured towards the bed.

“Thank you,” you said as you awkwardly sat at the edge of the bed, “What is your plan?”

“It’s quite simple actually,” the VP sat beside you, “I just need to get to know you better. That way I can give an authentic and flawless review to the CEO.”

“So, you’re going to conduct an in-depth interview?” you asked timidly as you noticed him scooting closer to you.

“You could say that,” he voice lowered as he rested his hand on your thigh, “We have about 45 free minutes remaining. I believe you should make the most of this interview, Miss ___,” he smiled slyly as his hand began to travel upwards.

“How dare you?!” you yelled as you abruptly pushed him off of you, “I’m going to report you to HR!”

“Then say goodbye to your promotion. You really think you were chosen just because your numbers have been decent? You definitely were not the CEO’s first choice. He didn’t even know who you were. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here,” he explained with a shit eating grin. 

“Then why the hell would you even bring me up to the CEO? Just so you could try and sleep with me?” you were enraged.

“Don’t blame me for wanting some eye candy to entertain me during this god awful convention,” he smirked.

“Fuck you, you fucking pig,” you spat.

“Ohhh feisty. I like that in a girl. If you leave now, you can kiss that promotion goodbye,” the VP called out to you as you stormed towards the door.

“And you can kiss my ass, and shove that promotion up yours,” you snapped, flipping him off before slamming the door behind you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you made your way to your room. You were absolutely distraught. Had all your hard work been for nothing? Had you been nothing but a pretty sight for men to stare at for the past five years?

You entered your hotel room to find Hoseok laying on the bed. You quickly wiped away your tears; you hadn’t expected him to be there. He appeared to be taking a nap. You watched his chest rise and fall slowly as you snuck into the bathroom. You freshened yourself up to the best of your abilities. Maybe a little power nap would help calm your nerves. Too bad Hoseok was taking up the bed. Fuck.

You left the bathroom to see if maybe you could curl up in one of the corners of the bed. Luckily, Hoseok was on his side of the bed. You set a timer for half an hour and slowly crawled under the covers. Your eyelids felt heavy as you closed them.

“If you wanted to cuddle you could’ve just let me know,” Hoseok’s voice surprised you.

“Well, I don’t. Leave me alone,” you responded.

“What if I want to cuddle?” he asked.

“There is an abundance of perfectly good pillows for you to use,” you sighed, then sniffled a little.

“Are you sick?” Hoseok asked with a worried tone.

“No, I’m fine,” you answered quickly, panicking. 

“___, what’s wrong?” Hoseok was sitting up now.

“Nothing, leave me alone,” you turned away.

“If you insist, I won’t push it. Just know that you can talk to me if you need to,” he offered.

You heard him get off the bed. You pulled the sheets over your head to hide your face. You cried silently as Hoseok shuffled around the room, presumably getting ready to leave. Suddenly, he pounced on you.

“Hoseok! What the fu--” you cried out as he yanked the sheets off of you.

“Surprise attack!” he gleefully exclaimed. 

His expression quickly changed when he saw your tear streaked face. You looked up at him with puffy eyes. You were too exhausted to hold your cold stare. Instead, you looked away in embarrassment.

“___, what happened?” he asked softly.

“It doesn’t matter. But congrats, you basically got the promotion,” you laughed in defeat.

“You spoke with the CEO?” Hoseok was shocked.

“No, with the VP. That stupid son of a bitch. He--nevermind. I blew my chance, so the job is all yours. I am almost positive that I am unemployed now as well,” the tears returned and you couldn’t stop them.

“Hey, ___, it’s okay,” Hoseok tried to comfort you, “If the CEO didn’t tell you himself, then you can’t be 100% certain.”

“I was literally only invited because the VP tried to get in my pants!” you blurted out.

“What?” Hoseok was dumbfounded.

“He just told me that I’d have the job if I had sex with him. Can you fucking believe that? How long have I not been taken seriously? This has been so demoralizing,” you let it all out.

“Aw, c’mere,” Hoseok pulled you up and gave you a warm embrace, “What did you say to him?”

“I told him to shove it,” you sniffled against his firm chest. 

“There’s the you I know. You haven’t changed a bit,” he chuckled, “We can talk to the CEO together tomorrow about this.”

“Why would you help me? The promotion is basically yours because of this,” you sighed.

“I don’t really care for it, if I’m being honest. I’m satisfied with my job now. I don’t want any more responsibilities,” he answered while stroking your hair. 

“Then why are you here?” you looked up at him.

“I only agreed to come after they told me that you’d be here,” he admitted. 

You didn’t know what to say. Too many things have happened in the past hour alone. 

“Don’t get it twisted, I was just curious to see how you’ve been after all these years. Plus a free trip is always enticing. Getting to share a bed with you has just been an added bonus,” he smiled.

Your timer rang, causing you to break away from Hoseok’s arms. 

“Guess it’s time to go to more boring meetings. Yay,” Hoseok feigned enthusiasm. 

“I’m gonna stay here. There’s no point in me attending anymore,” you stated.

“Nope, you’re going. I’m dragging you with me! You gotta show the VP that he didn’t frazzle you at all. Fuck that guy. Well, not literally,” Hoseok was pulling you out of bed.

Hoseok subtly made sure that you sat between him and the CEO the entire time. You caught him giving the VP dirty looks, which made you feel a little better. 

You quickly excused yourself after the last meeting and tried to make a break for your room. Unfortunately, Hoseok prevented you from doing so. 

“You got a date for the banquet tonight?” he asked.

“No. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem because I’m not going. Have fun with your date though,” you shook your head.

“Who said I had a date?”

“I’m sure women were basically throwing themselves at you.”

“You’re not wrong, but I turned them all down. I have my eyes set on one gal.”

“Lucky her, I guess,” you rolled your eyes.

“Indeed. Although I still gotta ask her,” he looked around the room as if he was searching for her.

“You better hurry. Isn’t it in a couple hours?”

“Yep. Alright, here goes nothing!” Hoseok rushed off, finally giving you the chance to disappear.

You let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors start to close. However, someone’s hand shot through at the last second. Hoseok stumbled in as the elevator doors reopened. You groaned. Why can’t you escape him?

“Did she say yes?” you asked with an indifferent tone.

“Not sure yet. Will you go to the banquet with me?” Hoseok asked.

“Fuck off.”

“Alright, well she just said no. Ouch,” Hoseok clicked his tongue. 

“Wait, are you being serious?” your eyes widened.

“If the word ‘date’ threw you off, then I’m happy with going as friends,” he proposed. 

“I’m flattered, but I’m really not in the mood to party with random strangers.”

“You don’t have to. Just party with me. Why would I let you be sad and mopey all alone in a hotel room when you could be drinking free booze?”

“Is the alcohol is free?”

“Duh, it’s all being charged to the company. Plus dinner is served.”

“Ok fine, I’ll go. I guess I didn’t pack that stupid dress for nothing.”

“Let’s not allow a gorgeous dress to go to waste,” Hoseok agreed.

“You haven’t even seen it,” you suppressed a smile. 

“Anything can be gorgeous if you’re the one wearing it,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” a small smile cracked on your face.

Hoseok was the first to get ready for the banquet. He wanted your look to be a surprise so he insisted on going first. You were beginning to find his weird yet endearing antics kind of cute.

You weren’t prepared when he came out of the bathroom. You were well aware that Hoseok was a handsome guy, maybe even handsome enough to model. However, you weren’t ready when Hoseok emerged in a grey suit with his hair styled to reveal his forehead. His radiance was comparable to that of the sun, and he only shone brighter when he smiled at you. 

“You look good,” you tried to act cool.

“Thank you! I’ll admit I do enjoy dressing up from time to time. But who doesn’t, am I right?” he beamed.

You nodded as you hauled your things into the bathroom. After about an hour, you were ready: fully dressed, makeup done, confidence soaring. You had forgotten how therapeutic dressing up could be. 

Your dress was a deep emerald green that was elegant yet seductive. It had a side slit that flirtatiously showed off one of your legs. The neckline gracefully outlined your cleavage while still remaining on the classy side.

“Holy shit. You look amazing!” Hoseok praised you as soon as you stepped out.

“I was only trying to match you,” you said shyly, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

“I think it’s safe to say that we’ll be the most breathtaking duo there. Shall we depart?” he extended out an arm.

The dinner started out with boring speeches by people you didn’t care to remember the names of. Hoseok elected to sit at the table furthest away from the stage, which was an excellent choice. That allowed the two of you to chat the night away in hushed voices. You both had already gone through five glasses of wine by the time the speeches were finally over. 

“The dance floor is now open! Enjoy the rest of the night, and don’t forget that there’s an open bar!” the MC shouted through the mic.

The lights dimmed and a disco ball lowered in the center of the room. People began to crowd the dance floor. You laughed with Hoseok as you both observed various awkward shuffles and sways. 

“Wanna dance?” Hoseok yelled over the music.

“I can’t!” you yelled back.

“I’m sure you can! Let’s go!” Hoseok didn’t wait for a reply.

He dragged you to an empty space on the dance floor. The two of you began drawing attention to yourselves as soon as you stepped out. Two beauties were dancing in the open for everyone to see. You shyly swayed to the rhythm of the music and laughed at Hoseok’s silly moves. However, Hoseok began to move in a way that was absolutely bewitching. He looked like a professional dancer with the way he commanded his body to hit every beat. Hoseok had drawn a very large crowd as people began cheering him on. 

You were amazed by his stage presence. You’ve always had a thing for dancers, and he looked downright sexy. The song ended and Hoseok gave his audience a dramatic bow, awarding him deafening applause. 

“I didn’t know you could dance!” you shouted when he returned to your side.

“I like to dance in my free time! Did you like it?” he shouted back.

“I’ll admit it was sexy,” you laughed.

“You think I’m sexy?”

“Maybe I do,” you winked.

You had more fun than you expected while dancing with Hoseok. He made you feel secure, so you were able to let loose. You didn’t care what you looked like, as long as Hoseok was there with you. 

The night progressed and you began to feel bold. A particularly raunchy song came on, as if it were asking you to grind on Hoseok. And that’s exactly what you did. You guided his hands to your hips as you grinded into his crotch

“You sure you wanna be doing that?” Hoseok spoke into your ear with a low voice.

“Absolutely,” you replied.

Hoseok spun you around and gazed at you intimately while he brought you closer into his body. Various body parts were rubbing against each other now. The sexual tension was palpable. 

Hoseok’s hands were running up and down your body, and your mouth was dangerously close to his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. You couldn’t help yourself; you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his neck. His low growl was an indication that he liked it, so you kissed him again with more vigor. 

“You’re going to have to stop,” he scolded.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I overstep your boundaries?” you were embarrassed.

“Absolutely not. But I can’t fuck you out here in public now can I?” he towed you off the dance floor and made a beeline for the elevators. 

Thank god no one else was in the elevator, neither of you could keep your paws off of each other. Hoseok’s hands were unabashedly feeling you up and down while his crotch was slowly grinding into yours. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you planted kisses along his sharp jawline.

Hoseok couldn’t stop whispering naughty things into your ear during the entire elevator trip up to your shared room. His lowered voice sent chills down your spine as he expressed just how eager he was to finally have you. You felt yourself getting wetter by the second.

“I wanted to strip off that dress the moment I saw you wearing it,” he cooed, “God, I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’ll look underneath me.”

“Hoseok, do you ever shut up?” you teased with a coy smile.

“I dunno, you might have to make me,” he played along.

“Maybe sitting on your handsome face will do the trick,” you said as you nipped his ear.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

The elevator doors finally opened, and Hoseok quickly dragged you out. He immediately tore off your dress the moment the hotel room door was closed. You did him the same favor as you frantically unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his toned body. 

“Why don’t you be a good boy and wait for me on the bed?” you suggested.

“Yes ma’am,” he complied, his eyes never leaving your body.

“Like what you see?” you asked, turning around slowly to fully show off the lingerie that perfectly complimented your body. 

“You are so fucking sexy, ___,” Hoseok smiled in awe.

“I’m so glad you think so. You’re not too bad yourself,” you winked at him.

You finally joined Hoseok on the bed. You kiss his body from his abdomen all the way up his chest before stopping at his mouth. You took a second to relish the feeling of his plush lips against yours before he deepened the kiss with a ferocious intensity. 

“Wanna try and shut me up now?” Hoseok lifted his eyebrows suggestively once the kiss broke.

“With pleasure,” you responded as you began to position yourself above him, “Wait, do you want me to take this off?” you gestured to your undergarments.

“No need,” he said before abruptly pulling aside your panties.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his face and stopped when you felt his breath on your pussy. Hoseok impatiently gripped your hips and pulled you directly onto his tongue. The sudden contact made you gasp. Hoseok didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

He flattened his tongue out to cover as much area as possible as he licked across your folds. He expertly flicked and lapped your pussy in the perfect places. Your legs began to tremble, and you had to grip onto the bed’s headboard for support. 

You looked down to see the beautiful man’s face buried in your pussy; that sight alone was almost enough to bring you over the edge. Hoseok’s hands slithered their way up to your chest, where he began to twist and pull at your sensitive nipples through your bra. 

“You taste--so good,” Hoseok panted out from underneath you.

“Should I get off--fuck!” you were interrupted by Hoseok sucking on your clit.

His mouth was heaven sent. Your body began to heat up and soon you lost the strength to hold yourself up even against the headboard. 

You cried out as you came all over Hoseok’s face. His face was glistening with your juices as he smiled up at you. He seductively licked his lips to taste you again.

“Your turn?” you asked.

“As much as I wanna see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I think I need to be inside you more,” he replied as he repositioned himself.

He stripped off the rest of his clothing. You watched with admiration as more of his skin became exposed.

“You can take off the fancy underwear now,” he said once he caught you staring.

“You don’t want to see it anymore?” you fakeed a pout.

“___, you’re drop dead gorgeous in it. However, I advise you to take it off yourself because I won’t hold back. I don’t want to ruin your underwear, just you,” he replied.

Hoseok mixed in little nibbles while he kissed along your neck. Your voice dripped with bliss as you quietly moaned. 

“I guess you do like being bitten, huh? What about this?” Hoseok licked your neck, causing you to squirm underneath him.

“I think I like that too,” you whispered, biting your lip.

You wriggled out of your undergarments, leaving yourself completely naked in front of Hoseok. You pull at the hem of Hoseok’s underwear, eager to see what he was packing.

You were not disappointed. Although he was well endowed, what he lacked in length was made up for in girth. 

“Do you want me to use a condom?” he asked.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m pretty sure I’m clean. I haven’t been intimate in an embarrassingly long amount of time,” you admitted, blushing.

“I find that hard to believe,” Hoseok said while kissing around your face, “Since you’re so damn beautiful,” his lips found yours and led you into a passionate kiss. 

His hips began to grind into yours, his dick rubbing against your bare pussy. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him closer.

“Please don’t tease me,” you pleaded.

“What are the magic words?” Hoseok teased.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you begged.

“Oh my fucking god,” he growled.

He slammed his hips into yours, not giving you enough time to adjust to him. The stretch was intense at first, but it soon turned into nothing but pleasure. Your euphoria grew as he rhythmically bucked his hips into you. 

Hoseok spread your legs out as wide as you could go, giving him quite the erotic view that only aroused him more. You tried to stifle your moans, but were failing miserably.

“Don’t hold back baby, let me hear you. Show me how good I make you feel,” he leaned over to whisper into your ear. 

You complied instantly, your moans resounding around the room. Hoseok’s position allowed him to hit you deeply with every stroke. Without a word, he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your knees. He roughly forced your chest down, leaving your ass in the air for him.

“Your ass is so fucking fat,” he said as his hand connected with your bare skin, causing you to shriek.

He kissed it afterward while his fingers teased your clit. He realigned himself with your entrance. This new position was even better than the last. You could no longer hold in your moans even if you wanted to. Hoseok repeatedly hit your g-spot, and you could feel another orgasm welling up within you.

“Hobi, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“I-i’m gonna cum!”

“No, not that. That’s hot but call me Hobi again,” he chuckled.

“Hobi!” you said with an exasperated tone.

“Yes princess? Fuck, I’m close,” Hoseok’s movements were becoming more haphazard by the second.

“Hobi, right there oh my god keep going please,” you begged, “Hobi...ah shit!” you came undone.

It wasn’t long after until Hoseok followed suit, pulling out to cum all over your ass. He rolled off the bed to get something to clean you up with. 

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asked.

“Better. You?” you answered.

“Doing pretty well. I fucked the girl of my dreams,” he said gleefully.

“Shut up,” you playfully pushed him.

“I’m serious. I’ve adored you since college. I lived for your playful banter,” he began to explain.

“It wasn’t playful,” you interjected.

“Yeah, I know. But that’s what made it fun! All the other girls just wanted to be with me for my looks or whatever. None of them knew the real me.”

“And I did?”

“More so than most. You always pushed me to do my best. I really just wanted to be good enough for you. Kind of silly huh? I even dated that girl in an attempt to make you jealous. Which backfired since her dad was Professor whatshisface who took me on that trip,” Hoseok opened up.

“Hobi I...I’m so sorry. I was such a bitch to you back then. And now too I guess. My competitive side gets the better of me. I was always annoyed by how you were seemingly good at everything. It even irritated me that you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life,” you began to apologize, “Oh, and his name is Namjoon. Professor Namjoon.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I hate to admit it but he made me a little jealous. I wanted you to praise me the way you praised him. Anyway, things can change now that everything's out in the open,” Hoseok smiled, “You’re even calling me Hobi! I’ve been dreaming about this moment.”

“Was it everything you ever hoped for?” you joked.

“You said it when you asked me to fuck you, then you said it multiple times while I was balls deep inside of you. So yeah, I would say it was everything I could’ve hoped for, if not more,” he pulled you into his chest.

The two of you continued talking for what felt like hours while cuddling. You hadn’t been this relaxed in ages. You were nearly asleep on his chest when he stroked a strand of hair from your face. 

“Tomorrow will be interesting, huh?” he said softly.

“I guess I still have to pitch my idea to the CEO,” you sighed softly, “What a waste of time.”

“It’s not a waste of time if you’re gonna get the promotion,” Hoseok reprimanded.

“I already told you, I’m not. The VP will make sure that you get it. This is good for you. Don’t worry about me,” you kissed his cheek, “We should get some sleep now.”

“Alright. Goodnight, ___,” he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight Hobi.”

“Fuck, I really love when you say that.”

It was time. Time to pitch your idea to the CEO for no damn reason. You were beyond nervous, and Hoseok could tell. He tried to ease your nerves by giving you a firm shoulder massage as you both waited to be called into a small conference room.

The VP emerged, ignoring your mean scowl, and called Hoseok in to present first. Of course he would go first, no need to waste time hearing your proposal.

It was an anxiety riddled wait. You recounted the previous day’s events, which was a mistake because that only infuriated you. The whole situation was an affront on your character, and you will not stand for it. You debated giving the VP another piece of your mind at the end of everything. 

“___, you’re up,” the VP called you after Hobi finished.

“You’re gonna kill it,” Hobi encouraged you, coupled with a pat on the back.

“This is pointless and you know that,” you sighed.

Hobi shook his head in disagreement. It was heartwarming to see how supportive he was being. Maybe it was due to the fact that the job was practically his already. It doesn’t matter now. 

“Good morning gentlemen,” you greet them.

“The floor is yours, Miss ___,” the CEO responded cordially.

“I’ll keep it short and simple. I propose that the best way to improve the company is to shorten work day hours and increase PTO days,” you said confidently.

“Is that it? Can you expound on that?” the VP cynically asked. 

“Yes, I’m so glad you asked,” you smiled coldly, “Studies show that employees are exponentially more productive when they are happier. Not only will the company become more efficient, but the overall company atmosphere will become more positive. Interpersonal relationships between employees and bosses will improve in an appropriate professional manner,” you glared at the VP.

“That’s a very interesting take,” the CEO said thoughtfully, “Do you have any suggestions regarding the actual work that the company does?”

“No sir. The company has been thriving, so I believe that the way things are running now are proficient. However, as a company, we should always be willing to listen to our employees’ concerns,” you stated.

“You’ve brought up interesting points to the table. As an employee, do you have any concerns you’d like to express?” the CEO asked.

“There is one pressing matter that comes to mind,” you stole a glance at the VP to see him shift uncomfortably in his seat, “I firmly expect that employee/supervisor relationships should be strictly professional.”

“Are you just giving us your opinion on office romances?” the VP sneered.

“I believe that trying to use intimacy as leverage is highly immoral, if not a fireable offense,�� you held your ground.

“Of course,” the CEO agreed.

“Then said employee would simply need to file a complaint with HR,” the VP dismissed you.

“What better way to get my complaint heard than speaking directly to the CEO?” you smiled sweetly, “Sir, yesterday the man sitting beside you crudely suggested that I sleep with him in order to gain the promotion. He also alluded that all of my accomplishments are for naught, and that I am purely ‘eye candy’.”

“Is this true?” the CEO asked his VP in dismay.

“Of course not. She’s grasping at straws. Look how desperate she is to get the job,” the VP quickly defended himself.

“I am not lying. I am fully prepared to be fired on the spot. I cannot continue to work at a company that allows this kind of sloppy behavior to go unpunished. Thank you for your time,” you bowed and quickly took your leave.

You released a huge sigh as soon as you were outside of the room. Hobi rushed over to your side. Suddenly, you began to laugh hysterically. Hobi looked at you nervously, obviously concerned about your mental state.

“Isn’t it so funny? All my hard work had just been flushed down the toilet by a stupid man drunk on power. I love that!” you wheezed.

“___, ___ calm down. What happened?” Hobi inquired. 

You told him what just went down. A smile crept across his face as you got to the part where you put the VP on the spot. 

“I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet dude,” Hoseok shrugged, “All we can do is wait.”

“Yeah, I’ll be the first one to congratulate you on your new job. Then I’ll begin my search for a new one,” you gave him a thumbs up.

The VP stumbled out of the room and angrily stomped towards the both of you.

“You fucking bitch! Who do you think you are? Do you even know what you’ve done? I know people. I’m gonna make sure your life is hell!” he yelled at you.

“That’s enough! You have been dismissed. I do not want to see your face around here again. Clean out your office on Monday,” the CEO ordered, “Would the both of you please follow me back into the room?”

You both timidly followed him, curious as to what he had to say.

“I apologize on behalf of the company for this incident. This isn’t the first time a complaint has been filed against him. Unfortunately, he always told me that they were just futile grasps for leverage and I foolishly believed him. However, his loss is your gain,” he smiled, “How would you like to be my new Vice President?”

You were agog. Hoseok’s eyes widened as he stood beside you.

“Surely there are more qualified people,” you stammered in disbelief.

“There definitely are. But none of them are what this company needs. It takes a special person to have their rival pitch all the reasons why you are a better candidate than they are,” the CEO happily nodded.

“I- he what?” you cast a surprised look at Hobi.

“Oh yes. He spent all his time highlighting your best qualities as an employee. It was quite a shock,” the CEO smiled.

“I will humbly accept your offer. Thank you so much sir, I will work even harder!” you bowed gratefully.

“That brings me to Mr. Jung. The position on the executive council is yours, if you want it,” the CEO offered.

“If the offer is unopposed, then I have no choice but to accept. I will do my best!” Hobi joined in your bowing. 

“Wonderful! It’ll be refreshing to see some lively young faces at those atrocious meetings,” the CEO laughed, “Oh, and one more thing. The two of you will have to relocate to the main branch, I hope that’s okay. I look forward to working with both of you.”

You both nodded gleefully. After the CEO dismissed the pair of you, the trip back up to your hotel room was nothing but joyous. It was like you were in a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. You even pinched each other to make sure it was all real. 

“I can’t believe you were advocating for me,” you hugged him.

“You deserve it. Your impressive diligence should not go unrewarded,” he squeezed you tighter, “Plus, this ended up being pretty sweet! Congratulations to both of us!”

“We need to go out to celebrate!” you wiggled.

“Yes! Let me take you out,” Hobi tackled you onto the bed.

“Where shall we go?” you playfully ask.

“Maybe we should go explore our new city together?” he suggested.

“Our?”

“Yes, our. And when I say I’m gonna take you out, I mean as a date. Because I want to date you. And have been wanting to for years,” Hoseok charismatically emphasized.

“I’m looking forward to starting this new chapter of my life with you then, Mr. Jung Hoseok,” you press your forehead against his. 

“Imma be all up in your bidness girl,” he joked.

“Your business is my business now loser,” you teased back. 

Looks like all that hard work had paid off, and there’s no better reward than finally being with Jung Hoseok.  

Published May 13, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

#bts smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #jung hoseok smut #bts angst #jung hoseok angst #bts fanfic #jhope smut #jhope angst #kpop fanfic #jhope fanfic #jung hoseok fanfic

[outofsstyles]

KILLER QUEEN (80s!AU)

 A/N: Heyaa!! So here’s what happens when I watch Sing Street right after reading some of Olivia’s boyfriend!Harry prompts :) Also a huge thank you to Soph @canyon-moan​ for betaing this for me!! A gentle reminder that I was not, in fact, alive in the 80s so please take it easy in that aspect lol. If you like it *please reblog*, it helps a lot, also I’d love to hear your feedback!!!!

Word count: 25.3k (I have no self control!! Someone stop me!!)

Pairing: Musician!Harry + Bassist!Reader

Prompts: making it official + enemies but secretly lovers

Warnings: Our typical mentions of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll (and a lot of denim!)

Concept: You and Harry are in rival bands and you shouldn’t really get along but you can’t help it.

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It didn’t come as a surprise to you that, from the moment you agreed to be part of the band, your agenda would become more frantic. That’s all you read on magazines or see on the television on those late nights MTV programs that love to talk about that rockstar life. The shows and the sleepless nights. The drugs and the sex between stages. It’s always what comes to the minds of anyone that thinks about following the music path.

Of course, you’re far from being The Bangles or Duran Duran, but even when it comes to playing for uninterested drunks on small crummy bars, you still found yourself barely able to catch a breather from it. 

And it also doesn’t help that on top of it all, you also try your best to balancing your studies as you go into your third year of uni. So, between being tucked behind your bass during rehearsals and going around begging for stuck up pub owners to give a spot, you still have to find time for the busy class schedule that also blends with your tutoring job on the side. Sometimes it feels like juggling those two contrasting lives is too much, and when you walk home each day too exhausted to even function, you ponder if you should just drop one of them.

You still manage to fall into a rather chaotic routine of dragging through weekdays to fall into reckless weekends. It’s not easy, but you make it work.

Today, however, seemed to be an odd one. From the moment you woke up with the sound of birds chirping and the faint conversation of your neighbors outside your window, you felt a sense of relaxation that has become a rarity to you. It’s a welcoming change from your usual rowdy roommates bantering at each other or the loud music blasting through the walls that serve as your alarm on regular days. The silence that engrosses your normally-chaotic home is calming as much as it is strange. 

The whole day went by in a lulling and lazy pace, and between your several attempts of keeping yourself occupied (that being going on a walk to the library or going through your mom’s old recipe book) you actually catch yourself realizing the quietness can be louder than your roommates.

It’s a weird concept to you. Missing them when you spend so much time together in the band, but you still can’t help it. So you just blast the radio and let Rio fill in the empty walls as you wait for one of them to come home.

By the time the night falls, wind thumping on the closed windows as the first thin drops of rain start to hit the glass, Lena is back from her shift with a low huff and a roll of her eyes, mumbling how she’s never covering weekend shifts ever again -- which you both know is not true, but neither mention it. And that’s how you find yourself at the end of your unruffled day, tucked at the end of your couch under a cozy blanket. Listening to one of MTV’s nightly programs - that Lena watches almost religiously after a day of work - as background noise. You focus on the open book settled on top of your lap, enjoying her company quietly as you flip through the pages.

It could be the perfect ending for a perfectly relaxing day, the sound of the rain almost lulling you to sleep as the words in front of you begin to shuffle, finding it harder to concentrate with your mind drifting off.

But before you can let your eyes fall close and your head snuggle back into the cushions, you’re startled awake by the burst of your front door opening. The sudden noise makes you and Lena jump, a yelp leaving your lips as you look back to the source of your fright. 

You barely have any time to feel panicked or even wrap your head around the possibilities of what could have caused the outburst as Abbey barges into the room.  She all but jumps on each step, stumbling a bit as she makes her way around the couch to stand tall in front of you. Her red hair is full and damp, droplets of water running down her body, causing her clothes to stick to her skin.

“I got us a gig!” Her breath is short as if she just ran a long way.

“Christ, Abbey, don’t do that!” You relax back into the couch once you realize there’s no real threat invading your home, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She scoffs, “Did you listen to a word I just said?” You notice her eyes are blown out, “I got us a gig, as in a </i> real gig.”

“A real gig?” Lena inquires, standing up to walk towards the front door that was left agape, closing it with a thump.

Abbey’s grin grows, her words come out slow but clear. “Next Saturday in the Blue Bird.”

“That’s in a week.” You state.

Her shoulders drop, “Yeah, and?”

“Blue Bird?” Lena comes in the room again, stopping by the head of the couch and crossing her arms under her chest. “How did you even get that I thought the only band that played there was--”

“You’re right Lena, was as in not anymore because we are playing there, and there’s more.” She interrupts, her voice raising an octave. “The owner, Ronnie, said if we’re good enough he can arrange for us to play every other weekend.”

“You’re insane.” You shake your head slightly. “That’s like a place where people actually go for the music, what makes you think we can pull that off?”

Abbey points a finger at you, “You’re being a pessimist, and that’s not appreciated in here.” She waves her hands around, trying to assert her point. “We can and we will pull that off and take over the permanent spot on the weekends.”

“Is that what this is about?” Lena smirks, eyebrows raising at her friend. “It’s been a hot minute since you raged about that Harry boy.”

 “It’s not just about him, Adeline.” She barks, “It’s about us! We need to find our confidence again.”

 “Again?” You speak out, making her snap her eyes back at you.

“Yes, again.” She says, “We’re doing this and it’s gonna be wicked.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement as you exchange a knowing look with Lena.

In all fairness, the prospect of playing a gig at an actual music house is as exciting as it is scary. It’s not like you think you’re not able to pull it off, but the simple thought of having people actually paying attention to your presence on stage is enough to make you want to hide under your covers and never come out. But seeing Abbey so pumped about it, there’s no way in a million years you’d ever say no.

She was the one that wanted to start a band, after all. Before she dropped out, in what seems like ages ago, she was your roommate that would drag you around every time she had those spontaneous ideas, that is going out for pancakes at three in the morning, go on weekend trips to concerts two cities away, or, well, start a band herself.  

In the beginning, it was just the three of you, Abbey as the lead, you on the bass, and a girl you met on one of the said weekend trips, who had introduced herself as Lena, on the guitar. And not even a month later, you were all living together in a tiny house near the main street. 

At first, the biggest issue, to your surprises, was that you couldn’t find a drummer if your lives depended on it. Even after putting out posters around campus, you only got two calls from men whose only interest was the “all-girls band” part of it. Things got better when you met Jaz, a smiley girl from your Phonetics class. She wasn’t a drummer, but her boyfriend was, they both played for their High School band (which is how they met, a proper movie-worthy story if they’d ask you). And just like that, you got yourselves a drummer and a keyboardist.

For the next few months that followed you played on dirty bars and house parties, getting paid with tipsy pats on your backs, or, if you were lucky, maybe a pack of cheap drinks for you all to share. It’s the frustrating part of trying to get into the music path, you found, most serious places were not interested on a band with hardly any live experience and no original songs whatsoever. So you just had to take whatever opportunity came your way. Once, you even played on the birthday party of Lena’s manager’s daughter, which was probably the most disastrous experience of them all, considering a crowd of eight-year-olds and their posh moms weren’t exactly fond of listening to loud covers of Blondie. You got to play three full songs before one of them asked you to leave. 

The first time you actually got money was when Abbey dragged you and Lena to play on the sidewalk of the National Park, where people would come and go with their busy lives and full wallets. That was the best one, you easily got three hundred within a few hours of your open cases, which was split between the three of you at the end of the day.

Afterward, you wanted to play on the streets again, but Abbey wished more than just being a street performer, she yearned for the glow of the spotlights and a place on the stage. And it’s not like you lot didn’t think of it as well, how it would be like to have an actual gig. So, you just went back to the old routine of jumping from bar to bar.  Playing for people that couldn't care less about your presence on the small stage, focusing only on their cheap beers and drunk conversations. 

For a while it seemed like that was all there was to it, the music scene getting more congested by the minute, you thought there was no way you’d ever make it out there. There were moments you even thought about giving it up, if you were honest, setting your mind into getting your English degree that at least has the guarantee of a stable paycheck by the end of it. But as Abbey always says, there’s nothing you can’t do with a twist of your hair and a bat of your lashes. And somehow, she managed to be true to her word, presenting an opportunity to actually start taking this seriously.

And it would be a lie to say there isn’t an excitement growing at the pit of your stomach the more you think about it.

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You’ve heard about the Blue Bird before.

Of course you have, it’s near to impossible not to. Being in a small town, predominantly surrounded by uni students, and that being the only music pub in the area, you’ve heard about it quite often. 

It’s become quite the hot spot for people interested in listening to good music while getting lost in the bottom of their beer glasses. With the only other competitor being a good forty-minute drive away, people go in crowds on the weekends as a getaway from their textbooks. You’re not sure why you’ve never been in it, though, only going as far as walking past it on your nightly walks during the week, listening to the faint sound of whatever band’s playing at the time. 

But if there’s one thing that’s always brought up when the subject is the Blue Bird is CHASM, more specifically Harry Styles. They have the permanent spot on the weekends and have become one of the main reason people - women, mainly - come in lots to have a spot inside the packed space. 

As much as his name comes up in a dreamy sigh and followed by a string of giggles when you hear it being mentioned by a classmate or overhear it somewhere in public, inside of your bubble he’s pretty much only mentioned in annoyed huffs or with a roll of eyes. If you’re honest, you know close to nothing about him, wouldn’t even be able to point him out on the street if you ever happen to cross paths. But you do know that Abbey is not fond of him in the slightest, so for that, you try to keep your distance from anything that has to do with Harry Styles.

You’re not sure how this hatred of her came to be and to be honest, you’ve never really been bothered enough to ask. Abbey doesn’t like a lot of people, her first impression of them it’s what she keeps in her heart with zero to no chance of changing it, so you just assume this Harry guy might’ve not given her a good one. It’s never really been something you really dwelled on, the circumstances in your life allowing you to ignore his existence unless he’s being spoken of. But it feels like a whole nother story now that you’ve essentially stolen his golden spot on the saturday night. 

The moment you walk into The Blue Bird is when you start to come to the realization that this is really happening. Not even a full step in, your eyes already dart to the big stage standing tall across from the entrance door, bigger than any other one you’ve ever been in -- being used to small platforms that barely have enough space to fit a drumset. it’s hard not to let your lips part in awe at the size of it all, the outside is rather modest compared to it, the only really striking detail being the LED sign with the name of the pub. There’s a large bar standing in the middle of the place, serving almost as a divisor of the two areas of the pub. The first area is the one you walk into as you first enter the place, with tables surrounding the space -- that now have their chairs propped on top of them, and you reckon this is where people sit around as they wait for the musical act of afterward when they can barely keep themselves up on their feet. The second area, however, it’s just empty of any barrier, except from the stools lined in front of the bar, meant mainly for people to crowd in front of the stage.

The walls are what catches your attention, though. The one where the front door stands is covered with magazines and newspaper cutouts of celebrities, scandalous headlines written in big bold letters, and random articles about their personal lives. On top of this big collage, there are band posters, you assume the ones that played in here, most of them stuck once to the wall, except for one that you can see multiple different colored papers with the same name written on it. 

You stop in front of one of them, one that’s just below your eyesight but catches your attention with the big blood-red letters that read CHASM on top of it, with a smaller font on the side saying  “live every weekend of ‘87” right below it. What you focus on, however, are the five faces staring back at you, their serious expressions looking almost haunting with the black and white filter. But it’s the one in the middle that your eyes immediately dart to. Unlike his bandmates, his lips are frozen with a slight smirk, small enough that wandering eyes could easily miss it, but still prominent enough that you can make out the shadow of a dimple on his cheek. His hair is settled in a wild nest, but not in a sloppy way, you decide, they’re a rockstar kind of messy. He’s handsome, there’s no doubt in that, just by looking at the small print of his face you can understand what the fuss is about, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. But it doesn’t keep your mind from wondering the color of his eyes and what it would be like to see them up close, as you look back at the taunting grin you think what could be the tone of his lips or--

“Lost something in there?” Lena’s voice makes you jump, turning swiftly to find her grinning at you. “You should come and start getting everything ready before Abbey finds you admiring our arch-nemesis.”

Your eyes widen, coughing in surprise as you try to regain composure after being caught. “I-- I wasn’t--”

She chuckles, turning to roam back to the stage before you can finish, throwing you one last look over her shoulder. “Sure thing, buttercup.”

You spare one last look to the poster before following her lead to the other side of the room where the rest of your friends are setting up the instruments on top of the stage. Once you locate your case tucked in the far left corner you quickly open it, finding your soft pink tinted bass resting inside of it. The Sesame Street sparkling stickers stuck to it glimmer from this angle (you got them in a favor bag from when you played at the birthday party), thanks to one of the spotlights shining directly at them. You pick the instrument up, adjusting the strap over your shoulder and giving the chords a few experimental strokes before looking up at the empty place.

There’s no denial of the anticipation that takes over every part of your body at the sight of the pub from the stage. A perfect mixture of excitement and anxiousness that lights up as you imagine how it will be like to see it filled up. It makes you gnawn at you bottom lip, jumping a bit on you feet as you move to connect your bass to the amplifier.

For a while, you just finish setting up the stage, tuning in the instruments, the sounds echoing on the empty space in a bit of a disarray, as you get used to the feeling of using proper sound equipment. You had the chance to meet the owner, Ronnie, for a brief minute as he strolled around the stage, observing you all before mumbling something about paying anything you broke and announcing he’d be in his office until opening hours. It wasn’t the warmest greeting you’ll admit, but you don’t really care, enjoying the opportunity nevertheless. 

Abbey arrives just a few minutes before the rehearsal is set to start, contemplating the view of everyone getting into a more of a harmonic arrangement before disappearing backstage for a moment without saying much of a word. When she comes back, she props herself in front of a big curved mirror cutting through one of the walls.

“Do you think you can do my makeup today, babe?” She calls back at you, gazing from over her shoulder with a slight pout on her ips.

“Sure.” You fiddle with the guitar pick between your fingers. “Do you want that rainbow look from last time?”

“Maybe something with less color this time.” She focuses back on her reflection, sighing loudly as fingers run through her locks. “I’m thinking of dying my hair black,” she tilts her head as if she’s envisioning her words. “I don’t know, just to try out something new.”

“That won’t make you look more like Joan Jett, you know.” A voice echoes in the empty space, bringing your attention to the entrance of the place.

And there he stands. The figure you had been staring at not long before, on the same poster stuck right behind where he is leaning, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. 

Harry stands there as if he just walked right out of the big screen, is the kind of beautiful you don’t see quite often outside a magazine cover. Not that it’s something that surprises you, considering you could tell from even a poorly printed image on a poster that the sharp curve of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones could call anyone’s attention from afar. Even with what you find to be a rather plain outfit for someone like him, a simple white turtleneck tucked in his lightwash jeans, matched with a denim jacket, he still manages to stand out somehow. It’s almost compelling, really. And you can’t help but follow him with your eyes as he pushes himself off the wall, making his way towards the bar with an attitude as if he owns the place.

Abbey scoffs from her spot, arms crossing under her chest. “Unlike you, I don’t have to try to be someone else to get attention, Styles.”

He rests an elbow on top of the counter, chuckling as he points a finger at your friend. “You’re getting better at this, I’m proud.”

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” She barks, keeping a stern look pointed at him.

“Wanted to check out who stole our Saturday night spot, princess.” He spits back at her, words dancing around the room in a teasing manner. “When Ronnie said it was a bunch of newbies had to see it with my own eyes.” Unlike her, he doesn’t seem bitter at the situation in hand, but somewhat amused at the heated girl scoffing at him. From the distance you stand, you can’t make out details, but it’s still enough to notice the grin imprinted on his face, dimples marking his cheeks as he clenches his jaw, eyes wandering around the stage as he leans back fully to rest both elbows on top of the stool. “Plus, I get free booze before the House opens.”

As the words leave his lips his eyes meet yours, and you quickly realize you must’ve been staring for quite a while. You see the smirk growing on his face before you quickly look back at the forgotten bass in your hands. There’s a warmth creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears from getting caught all but gawking at him. You move your hands to the cords, beginning to tune the instrument as an attempt to cover-up. But when you take a peek at him you still find his eyes watching you, only enhancing the blush that’s now undoubtedly taking over your cheeks.

“You lot are way more organized than I expected.” He speaks up again, motioning towards Ross sitting by the side of the stage near the drumset.  “Got a roadie and everything.”

“Piss off!” Ross snarls back at him.

Harry just smiles. “Just taking a piss, mate.”

“I better not see you going around trying to get to one of my girls, Styles.” Abbey calls back from her shoulder as she jumps onto the stage, turning to face him. “Or you’re a dead man.”

“What’s that they can’t speak for themselves?” He arches his brows at her. “Where’s all that sexual freedom you love to brag about?”

“You’d love to use that as an excuse, wouldn’t you?” She toys with the mic stand. “You stay away from them.”

There’s no more banter once you begin the rehearsal. Harry grabbing a glass of a drink you can’t quite make out from the distance and moves to a spot tucked by the back of the place. Curiously, you catch yourself glimpsing in his direction every so often, but you can barely make out his silhouette due to the stage lights limiting your vision. At one point, when it dims down, you can see him scrunching over the table, focusing on a small journal sitting on top of it -- you find it odd his choice of place to do so, but don’t duel on it too much.

What keeps crawling back into your mind is Abbey’s words to Harry earlier, telling him to not try his way with any of you. She was talking about you. That much was clear, considering there’s not any other choice for him, with Jaz being very much compromised and Lena having no interest in engaging with men in any way. That leaves you as the only option that he could possibly pursue. It makes you think why she’d even consider that a possibility in the first place, but you push it to the back of your mind, concentrating on you bass lines until it’s around the opening hour and you’re getting ready backstage.

None of you are used to the concept of having a dressing room, so as undusted as it seems from a first glance, it still only helps to enhance the reality that hits you of this whole experience. The far voices from people starting to fill in the bar outside making your nerves become near overwhelming as you try to apply some eyeshadow with shaky hands. 

When you’re all ready to go, just about half an hour away from walking onstage, you try to dull your anxiety with a cup handed to you by Lena of something you’re not quite sure what it is but it tastes like oranges and tequila. You settle on a spot on the certainly old red couch prompted against the wall. Avoiding a big rip cutting through the middle of it, foam poking out of the hole, you try not to think of what could’ve caused it -- or all the other stains adorning it. 

There’s people coming and going around the space, the door not staying close for longer than a minute. Faster than you can process it, the room is suddenly crammed with people, none of which you recognize yet they greet you as if you’d been friends your whole life. Their loud voices mesh together, making it harder to even hear your own voice if you were to speak out loud. A strong scent of incense takes over the room, so intense you can feel the beginning of a headache. There are people stumbling on their feet trying to get to the stool across from you, where you catch a glimpse of a man with a messy mohawk snorting something out of a dirty bill. 

Two strangers found their sits next to you at some point - not paying the same attention you had to the rip scarring through the cushions. Both get lost in their conversation, the man’s fluffed curls poking your face occasionally when he gets too excited with the hand gestures. You catch a word or two when they try to include you in it, you offer a simple nod, not bothering to try and understand their muddled words.

It all starts to feel a bit overwhelming, the amount of strangers surrounding you along with the nervous feeling that’s already taking over your stomach -- the drink not being of any help at all. You look around trying to find a familiar face, but you can barely spot the green ends of Lena’s hair through the crowd. Gazing down at your wrist clock, you figure there’s enough time for you to find a emptier spot so you can calm yourself down.

“I think I’m gonna get some air.” You say to no one in particular, seeing the man’s head nodding from your peripheral vision as you maneuver your way between leather-clad bodies towards the door.

You’re met with a just as packed hallway. Searching for a more vacant space, you spot a sign indicating an exit door that had been pointed at you earlier as the back alleyway. Without a second thought, you make your way around the crowded space. The nest of feet makes you trip slightly, making you crash against a girl standing next to the door. You mutter a quick apology, but you’re only met with a pitched giggle in response.

Once you reach the door you all but jolt your way out of the building. The brisk night air hitting your face, bringing a sense of relief near to instantly. You close your eyes at the feeling, breathing in as the breeze dances around your face and messes with your air.

“Well, if it’s not one of Abigail’s bunnies.” A voice cuts through the air, breaking you from your moment of relief. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Harry’s irises watching you. He’s leaning back on the wall across from you, foot prompt up and jacket thrown over his shoulders. His fingers fiddle with a closed package of cigarettes, dimples shadowing on his face in amusement.

You blink at him, taking a second to process his words. “I’m not a bunny, whatever that means.”

His lips twitch up. “I’m sure you’re not, darling.”

You observe as he thumbs the package in hand open, quickly grabbing a cigarette and resting it between his lips. “Need a light for that?”

His brows shoot up. “Didn’t take you for a smoker, angel.”

“I’m not, my friends are.” You reach for the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out a tiny pink lighter and throwing it towards him.

He catches it, holding it up between his index and middle finger. “You carry that around for your friends?” He keeps his eyes trained on you as he raises the lighter, flicking it so it paints the end of the cigarette a fiery orange. You can’t help but notice the chipped black nail polish adorning his nails, a couple of rings hugging his fingers, only adding to his rockstar persona. His cheeks hollow around it, taking a slow drag exhaling smooth puffs of smoke out of his puckered lips. He points the end of the cigarette towards you. “That’s a good girl.”

You feel your breath hitch on your throat, looking down as you feel for the second time in the day a heat taking over your cheeks. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the alleyway, your gaze waves around checking a few other lone smokers not too far from you. When you peek at him again, he’s still watching you with the same smug look he had when he first walked in. From this distance you can get a better look at his face, with it’s full colors, and you make a point to figure the forest green of his eyes flickering under the dim light. 

You clear your throat, trying to fill in the silence that’s taken over the space. Keeping your eyes still trained on a random spot where the alley meets the street, you speak up,  “So, how did get a gig here?”

“Trying to get to know me now, love?” There’s a smug tone to his voice, and it makes you shoot your eyes at him.

You shake your head, scoffing softly. “Was trying to be nice, forget it.”

He lets the air fall quiet for a beat, the corner of his lips tugging up as he takes another drag of the cigarette. “My uncle owns the place.”

“Ronnie is your uncle?” You crease your eyebrows.

“Yup.” He props his foot down from the wall, kicking a small rock on the floor. “He’s a right prick, but he can be nice if you get on his soft spot.” He shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “What ‘bout you, bunny?”

 “What about me?”

“How did you get in the spotlight?”

You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not in the spotlight,” 

“You’re stepping on that stage in a few minutes, love, that’s hardly true.”

You chew on your lip, locking your eyes on your feet as you sway back and forth gently. “But I’m, like, on the invisible side of the stage.”

“Invisible side?” 

You shrug, trying to appear unflappable. “Yeah, well, no one ever notices the bassist.”

“I do.” He says without skipping a beat, and when you search for his eyes they’re aloof as if the words just left his lips without a single implication behind them. You wonder if there is one. Or maybe you’re just reading too much into it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop a flock of butterflies to sweep on your stomach as he shoots you a warm smile. He motions to the door behind you with his head, “Better get going, darling, if someone spots us talking they might think we’re friends.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Did you see how crazy they went when we did Call Me?” Abbey leans over the table, not paying any mind to the way it starts to tilt towards her side. You and Jaz quickly balance the weight, straightening surface before the filled cups can start sliding down and causing a mess. You give her a scolding look for not being careful, but she doesn’t even look at you, only picking a fry from the pile in the middle and dipping inside her vanilla milkshake, sitting back and elbowing Lena next to her playfully. “And to think you said it’s not a gig song.”

“I didn’t say that.” Lena shakes the cup in her hand, circling the straw as to mix the melting ice cream inside, completely unfazed by her friend’s tease. “Just said we should do something new if people wanted old songs they would tune on that good times radio station, or whatever it’s called.”

“People like listening to classics!” Abbey protests, raising her voice bit, she’s either forgotten she’s in public or is just simply too stoned to care. Either way, you try to shush her, muffling a giggle with the back of your hand as you see a group two tables down looking back at her. She only huffs, leaning back down on her seat, “What do you suggest we play, then? Duran Duran?”

“I like Duran Duran.” You pester, trying to repress a smile as she shoots you a pointed look.

“I actually think Duran Duran is a great idea.” Lena backs you up, the same taunting smile reflecting on her face as she says it looking at you. 

“You two are completely insane if you think I’m singing new wave, might as well start to fill in for a new vocalist.” She shoves her hand full of fries, dropping to her side of the table with a shrug.

“Jaz you think that girl from your choir is available? The blonde one?” Lena bites into her straw, barely containing her laugh as Abbey narrows her eyes at her.

You watch in amusement from across the table, the contrast between Lena and Abbey looking comical as they continue to banter at each other. In one side there’s Lena who’s leaning back on the wall next to her, her neon pink jumpsuit standing out from anyone else in your group, hair hardly styled, being more of a nest in her head, the sides shaved and the back falling on her shoulders in a mullet. On the other side, Abbey’s swallowed in black, the only color being the red of her hair, that’s pushed up in a high side ponytail.

It was her idea to come to the diner after the gig, declining every offer of an after party (which is new for her) and insisting you had to have this moment to decompress together as a band. What you didn’t take account of, is that a diner on a Saturday night isn’t exactly a deserted place. So after spending an hour sitting on the parking lot, waiting for a table, you finally got yourselves a booth tucked by the back. And now as the place gets clearer and quieter by the minute, after getting your round of burgers, you share a big pile of fries, not ready to leave and sleep on this experience just yet.

“You know who also seem to enjoy the show? That Harry dude.” The mention of his name calls your attention to Lena. “Caught him in the corner a couple times watching us.”

You take a sip of his drink, trying to mask any expression that exposes the fact that you’d noticed too, maybe more than just a couple times.

To your relief, everyone focuses on Abbey as she lets out an annoyed huff. “Why’d you bring him up of all people.” She picks up her nearly empty cup a bit too harshly, her voice rising again. “He called me a Joan Jett wannabe! Fucking prick.”

 “You do dress like her,” Lena raises her brows in defiance.

“It’s called an inspiration, Adeline, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be her.” She barks at her friend. “Doesn’t give that knobhead the right to be a dick about it.”

“Why don’t you like him?” The question slips out of your lips before you can stop it, and you regret it as soon as all eyes on the table set on you, Abbey’s face creasing in an incredulous look as if the answer was obvious.

 “Are you serious? Did you hear how he spoke to us?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “Just seemed like he was trying to get a rise out of you.”

“He’s got a stick up his ass, babe. A full narcissist, it’s ridiculous.” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in aversion. “He’s also a complete womanizer, it’s disgusting if you ask me.”

“I guess,” You gaze up at her.”

“Babe, he’s a charmer, I’ve seen it before, he knows how to sweet talk someone.” She explains in a sigh. “They’re all like that.”

“They?”

“Men in bands.” She picks up another fry, poking it on her forehead as she makes her point. “Have their heads bigger than the whole stage, think they can do just about anything.”

“Suppose that’s true,” You agree, not wanting to get further in this discussion.

She smiles, biting a piece of the fry before pointing it at you. “It is, which is why we are smart girls and don’t fuck with them.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

You’re aware that going for a walk by yourself at night is not a very secure choice. 

Even living in what you feel like could be the most monotone town in the area (where the biggest report on the local news was when two boys got stuck on a tree thanks to a dare with their friends). But it still doesn’t stop you from being careful, only going around the busier streets, watching the movement of people - mostly students - chatting the night away on the filled pub table, enjoying the short break between studies before going back at it once the weekend’s over. 

You stroll around with not much of a purpose, really, only needing a bit of time to yourself every so often when you feel the turmoil in your home becomes to much (on those weekends when both your roommates decide to stay home). So you just go on your usual path, breathing in the night air and enjoying some alone time.

The ending of your course is marked by none other than the Blue Bird, standing in a corner of the main street.

 A small group of people is gathered in front of it, smoking their cigarettes. You stare at them for a minute as you get closer to the led lights indicating the entrance of the pub, the girls with their bright-colored outfits, hair styled and puffed up as they laugh along to whatever one of the boys has said. One of them has a leather jacket thrown over her shoulder that almost swallows her figure, and you can only assume that it belongs to the man talking to her, leaning back on a payphone, the quiff in his hair so high it makes him look like a knock-off John Travolta. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh to yourself.

Once you reach the entrance you look at it mindlessly, not being able to see much from outside except the string curtain hanged on top of the open door. You turn on your heels, ready to start making your way back, but as you pay attention to the muffled sounds coming from inside the pub you stop on your tracks. A familiar tune catching your attention, making you turn in the direction of the entry. Somebody to Love. 

It peaks your curiosity. If you’re honest, you feel like covering a Queen song is probably one of the most bound for disaster decisions someone can make. But as you feel yourself approaching the entrance, the voice of whoever’s singing it all but lures you inside. It’s not the same as the original, of course, but the lower tone to it fits it just as beautifully and once you fully walk in you can almost feel your heart skip a beat to find Harry standing on stage. His eyes closed in concentration. 

It’s saturday. His saturday night. You forgot about that.

You don’t dare to try to mend amongst the crowd of people packed in front of the stage, making your way to the bar. You thankfully find an empty stool without much of a fight, allowing you a perfect vision of the stage.

Harry is playing the guitar, his voice blending perfectly with the vocals of the girls in the background, eyes closed as he feels every lyric coming out of his throat. His stage look is much different than the one he wore back when you first saw him, it’s something you reckon not many people could rock out as good as he does. A mismatched suit, light green blazer with a pink blouse underneath, along with bright blue trousers -- it’s as if he picked one piece from different colored suits (which you assume he probably did). The locks of his hair are no longer running wild on his head, instead, it’s gelled back, a single rebel strand falling charmingly against his forehead. You wonder if it’s on purpose.

It’s quite a sight to see him like this, you’re not gonna lie. All suited up with no tie, the blouse only partially buttoned so you notice a tease of some tattoos on his chest. You’d noticed his good looks before, it’s impossible not to, but there’s something about the stage glow that makes it impossible to look away from him. It’s mesmerizing.

To your surprise, the rest of his set mainly consists of originals, and unlike you’d expect for any amateur band that dares to sweep away from covers, he manages to hold the crowd’s attention as if he’s singing any other hit song you hear on the radio. Even not knowing the lyrics, people cheer along to the songs, moving to the beat as best as they can in the crowded space. And that’s a direct result of the charisma he holds while standing on stage.

It’s entrancing, really, how he holds himself as if he was born to be doing this. And you think maybe he was. 

There’s a mischievous glow to him, when he rocks out to his own songs, grinding slightly against the mic stand. A gesture that makes you flustered even from your seat a couple of meters away. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him even if you tried. And you’re sure as hell not trying.

At one point you feel a poke in your arm, turning around to be met with the barman who recognizes you from the week prior. He greets you with a shout over the noise, offering you a drink on his account. Your first instinct is to refuse, considering you weren’t even supposed to stay for long, but after a bit of insisting on his part you accept with a shy smile.

By the time he’s ending the last song, you’re at the edge of your seat, catching yourself wishing you could see more of him. The lights in the audience turn on as he wraps up the set, and just before he bows down with the rest of his band his eyes wander in your direction. It’s so quickly that you think you could’ve just imagined it, considering his eyes don’t meet yours again, only rushing his way backstage.

You blink at the empty spot where he once stood for a moment, almost feeling frozen in place as you try to take in what happened. Turning on your stool to face the bar, you gaze down at your forgotten drink. You hold it to your lips, deciding to finish it so you can ease your way out before anyone else spots you. Your attempt is frustrated, however, when you hear a voice coming from behind you.

“Reckon Abbey Road would throw a fit if she knew you’re wandering around watching my concert.” You turn to face Harry, finding him looking down at you, signature smirk making his dimples poke onto his cheeks. His hands are hidden inside the pockets of his dress pants and he’s taken off his blazer, causing the pink of his blouse to stand out even more.

You chew the inside of your lip. “I can make my own decisions, you know.”

“That’s good to hear, bunny.” His smile grows, hand leaving the pocket to motion at the empty spot next to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Be my guest.”

He sits on the empty stool, turning to the bartender that’s handing a drink to a man standing behind you. “Can you give the lady another one of what she was drinking? On my tab.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I was about to--” You begin, but the man behind the counter doesn’t care to listen, only picking up your empty glass and moving away to fill it up. “leave.”

“Already?” Harry arches his eyebrows, resting his arm on top of the counter and leaning towards you. His voice comes out a bit softer, dropping the playful tone, “let me buy you a drink, angel.”

You ignore the way the hairs on your neck rise at the petname. “You really don’t have to--”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, not being able to hold back your smile once his own grows on his face.

As if on cue, the bartender comes back with two glasses, setting them in front of the two of you. You don’t fail to note the fact that he gives Harry his drink without being asked to.

He picks up his glass, holding it up, to which you do the same, clinking your glasses slightly before taking a sip.  “So, what brings you here tonight? Measuring the competition?”

 “I was just walking around, heard a lousy cover of Somebody To Love, and decided to come in.”

He throws his head back a bit in laughter, nose scrunching adorably. You have to look away as to not find yourself staring. “A Queen fan, then?”

 “You could say so.”

“A pretty girl with a good taste in music, gonna steal m’heart if you keep going, bunny.” And just like that, it’s like he takes all the words out of your mind. You only let out a small chuckle, taking a sip of your drink as you look away to cove the blush that paints your cheeks. His eyes are still trained on you, though. “Was it any good?”

“Huh?” You blink back at him.

“The cover.” He grins. “Or was it really that lousy?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You say truthfully, clearing your throat. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you.” He bows his head slightly, smiling at you. And unlike before, it’s not smug, but rather warm, you smile back at him. “Enjoyed the show, then?”

“I did.” You nod.

“I’m glad.” He runs his finger around the brim of his glass, tapping against it once with a click of his ring against the glass.  “What would you change about it?”

The question takes you back. “What would I change?” 

 “Yeah.” He clasps his hands over his lap, moving his feet on the floor so his stool swivels from one side to the other.

“Uhm…” You crease your brows, trying to hack your brain for an answer. Your eyes land on his blouse, still halfway unbuttoned. “Your shirt.”

“M’shirt?” He questions, brows shooting towards his hairline, clearly not expecting the answer. He gazes down at the piece on his body, fingers pitching the material as he looks back at you. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a big fan of pink.” You shrug.

“Now, we just can’t have that, bunny.” He clicks his tongue. “Pink is the new color of rock n roll!”

You chuckle. “Says who?”

“Says me.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m sorry then, mister rockstar.”

His face lights up in a giggle, lips parting to say something but before he can let the words out a hand rests on his shoulder calling both your attentions to the man standing next to him. You recognize him from standing next to Harry on stage as the guitar player.

“We’re hopping over to Eamon’s.” He doesn’t acknowledge you until Harry’s eyes hover over in your direction. 

“That’s fine, think I’ll stay behind this time.” Harry looks back at his friend, but you see him glimpsing at you from the corner of his eyes.

You watch as his friend raises his brows, gazing between the two of you in a curious manner. You clear your throat, shifting in your seat as you look at them. “ It’s fine, I should get going anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” he says in a blink, a smirk twitching on his lips almost as if to cover up how quickly he said it. He turns back to his friend, who’s still watching the interaction with raised eyebrows.  “You can go without me, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Harry, you didn’t have to.” You subconsciously reach for his arm, retracting your touch just as fast when he glances at it. Clearing your throat, you play with “I really should get going, I was supposed to be on a walk after all.”

“Let me walk you back then,” he gets up from his stool, giving his friend a brief hug before turning back to you and extending his hand for you to take. Your lips part to protest, feeling as if you’re holding him back even though it was his decision to stay behind, but before the words can even come out of your mouth he beats you to it,  “there’s no way I’m letting you go home by yourself this late, love.”

You sigh, shoulder dropping in defeat as you hold back a smile. Taking his hand, you stand up, “okay.”

The main street hasn’t exactly quieted down since you first walked by it, in fact, it only seems like it’s gotten rowdier. Time only increasing the buzz wandering in the air around the people filling the bars, voices louder, filled glasses clinking more frequently. As you stroll through it side by side there’s a comment or to that floats in the air, but you have to all but shout it, fighting with the turmoil of noise.

As soon as you turn into the first street away from the crowds it’s as if someone had turned off the sound completely, the nest of voices getting far-off in the distance and the loudest sound being of the night breeze kissing the tree branches above you. You can feel Harry glancing up at you from the corner of your eye and it doesn’t take long until his voice echoes in the air in an attempt to make small talk.

It’s surprising to you, how easy it is to be drawn in a conversation with him. Harry’s essentially not the same offstage as he is under the spotlight, most people aren’t. There’s no need for him to bloat his charisma when talking to you, he’s quieter. Shy, almost. And it takes you back a bit, to see such contrast in a short amount of time. 

The magnetic force to him, however, still lingers even when he’s like this. You feel drawn to it, wanting to hear him speak about everything that comes to mind, just to savor the way he articulates his words, voice so calm and low it sends an electric chill down your spine. As he tells you about his music inspirations, going on the story about the time he traveled alone to crash a Fleetwood Mac concert, hands brushing against yours when he walks, you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to link them together.

Once you reach your street, just a block away from the entrance gate of your home, you notice the front lights are yet to be turned off, indicating your roommates are still up and around -- most likely arguing about MTV’s top ten of the week. The realization makes you come to an abrupt stop, catching Harry off guard as he takes a few steps before realizing you stayed behind. 

“Wait.” You say once he turns around, brows furrowed in a silent question as to why you stopped. “Uhm… You can drop me off here… It’s fine.”

“What do you mean? Is it too far? I don’t mind walking-”

“No!” You interrupt. “It’s not that, my house is right there, see?” You point to the bricked building no too far from where you stand.

“Why do y’want me to drop you off here, then?” The crease on his face deepens.

“I-- it’s just--” you begin, not knowing how to say it. “It’s just the girls are still awake, and..”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, an amused grin expanding on his cheeks. “Don’t wanna get scolded for hanging out with the enemy.”

“Don’t say like that.” You chuckle at yourself, looking down in embarrassment. “They just will never let me hear the end of it.”

“I get it, bunny.” He takes easy steps towards you, closing the space as he stands tall in front of you. You hold your breath as you look up at him, meeting his irises glimmering in enjoyment, dimples shadowing on his cheek. His hand reaches up, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear and you swear if he gets any closer he’ll be able to hear your heart thumping in anticipation. “Had a lovely time with you.”

“Me, uhm--” you clear your throat as your voice cracks, blood flooding your cheeks. “Me too.”

The streetlight above gives his face a golden glow that almost takes your breath away, his hair glistening in the light due to the gel pushing it back, and now even more rebel strands curl against his forehead. You half expect him to lean down, you don’t know why he would, but for a moment it seems like he will. To your dismay, however, he steps back, giving you one last smile before moving out of your way on the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around, then.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“I have some exciting news for you.”

Abbey’s voice startles you, not realizing she’d entered the dressing room while you focused on the book on your lap. Since you’ve gotten a spot at every other weekend on the pub, your routine just seemed to get even more busy, with rehearsals almost every day. So, because of that you barely find time to do your assignments. And with a book report due just around the corner, you’d thought maybe you could sneak in some reading time after the gig when everyone’s down at the bar and not prancing and screaming around the dressing room.

 Your assumptions shows itself to be wrong, however, when your perky friend bounces her way to where you sit. She kneels next to the couch, crossing her arms on top of your legs and resting her chin on them, looking up at you expectantly, lips lifted in a side grin. 

“What is it?”

“Got us an after-party, babe.” you notice a few colored lollies in her hand when she removes the plastic protecting a red one, shoving it between your lips before you can even protest. “And you’re coming with us.”

“I’d love to but I have class tom—“ Your voice is muffled around the sweet. 

She rolls her eyes, standing to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. “You should stop wasting your life with an outdated system” 

“You mean getting a degree?” 

“Do you watch the news? We’re about to be the last generation to live fully, the world is about to break into nuclear wars all around.” She says as a matter-of-fact, turning to rest her legs on top of your lap. “Cosmo said we probably won’t even make it to the 2000s” 

“Who’s Cosmo?” 

She sighs, reaching to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her voice comes out soft, but calculated, “what matters is that we should enjoy our time while we have it.” 

“You’re giving a whole speech about nuclear war to convince me to go to a party with you.” You arch your brows at her. 

“Yes.” 

You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat as you let yourself be convinced. “Okay. But I’ll—” 

“Great!!” She squeals, moving her legs from your lap and leaning down to grab your face, pressing a quick kiss on top of your hair before jumping from the couch, and out of the room. 

Once you arrive at the location of the after-party, Abbey leads you and Lena to a tall gate by the side of the house, explaining that you’re walking in from the back garden, considering the front door is locked. You find it odd, and if wasn’t for the muted sound of instruments echoing inside the bricked walls of the place, you’d doubt there was even a party happening here at all. The front of it was as regular as the other surrounding suburbian homes, grass neatly trimmed and the front lights turned off, as if nobody was even home.

Which is why you’re visibly taken back when you walk by the gate into the back area, finding an old vintage bus that could be around ten or even twenty years old, sitting in the middle of the grass. The wheels of it have been taken off, and every inch of the exterior is covered by graffiti, so much you couldn’t even make out the original color of it if you tried. Some of them are unreadable scribbles tangling on top of each other. Some are colorful drawings painted over them -- two sunflowers catch your attention, marked just above where the wheel would be, growing tall along the side and above the window.

“I know, right?” Abbey nods at your astounded expression. “Legend says John Lennon signed it somewhere.”

“Really?” You look at her, not able to hold back the way your voice pitches in amazement.

“Dunno, never looked for it.” She shrugs. “C’mon I’ll show you.”

She grabs your hand, dragging you to the side of the vehicle pointing at some random drawings and explaining the rumors behind their meanings. You try to concentrate on her excited babbles, but as you see Lena walking away from the corner of your eye you look up to watch her meet with a girl you’ve never seen. Before you can focus back on your friend, something else catches your attention, sitting on a wooden bench under a large tree, no too far from where you stand.

Harry’s in a small group sat in a circle. You recognize two men from his band sitting on the grass with guitars propped on their laps, one being the same that interrupted you the night at the bar. The rest are women who seem to have come right out of Fleetwood Mac’s tour bus, their long hairs pushed back with hairbands and earthtoned flare pants. But you barely even care about the ones sitting on the grass, humming along to the strings of the guitars. What grabs your attention is the one next to harry on the bench, her arm draped over his shoulder as she dabbles flower petals playfully on his hair. 

You hardly take in his appearance, half-mindedly noticing the tattoos decorating his arms that pokes out of his tank top and the twirls on his hair as the girl winds her fingers on it. it’s hard not to remember Abbey’s words when she said he knows how to sweet talk his way around, and the thought of having fallen down on his trap only makes your heart pang on your chest. 

“-- That’s basically why they won’t let anyone paint over it anymore.” You turn back to Abbey as she points to the sunflowers you’d spotted earlier, nodding along as if you’d heard everything she said. She looks at you, “but I like this way better, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah.” You agree, not exactly knowing what to.  

She wraps her arm around yours, and you grasp the minty scent of her perfume as she pulls you close. “Let’s go inside.” 

There’s an urge inside of you to peek back over your shoulder to catch a last glimpse of Harry, but you push it to the back of your mind, allowing Abbey to guide you around the bus where the entrance door is hanging open. 

A small group of people greet you inside the bus, amongst them is the said ‘Cosmo’.  He seems like the exact kind of person you’d imagine Abbey hanging around on her weekends’ escapades. Dressed in a baby blue velvet suit with nothing underneath his blazer except a few of - what you assume - hand-painted tattoos, matching with a rainbow stripe drawn on the side of his face, starting at the bridge of his nose and going all the way to the curve of his jaw. His hair hits just around his shoulders, the sides shaved so it’s like a puffed version of a mullet, edges dyed in a bright shade of red. He toys with a lit joint between his purple lips, picking it up and offering to you with a raise of his brows.

Normally you’d decline the offer, especially coming from someone you’d just met, but there’s an annoying feeling settling itself at the pit of your stomach. One you want to ignore but can only do so much to dull it, so you accept the joint, reaching for it and placing it in your mouth. 

You’re not a regular smoker by any means, and when you inhale you can feel the smoke burning your throat as it moves down to curl inside your lungs. It makes you want to cough it out but you hold it in, trying to take in everything before huffing it out in a choked breath.

“Do you want a drink?” One of the girls asks you, already pouring you a purple drink inside a labeless plastic bottle.

“What’s in this?” You accept the cup, giving her an skeptic look.

“Pure fuel, babe.” Abbey leans on your shoulder from behind.

You hang out in the bus for a while, and, to your surprise, you don’t feel left out as they keep notice to include you in their conversations. The drink ends up being not that bad, and, even having no idea what’s in it except for the very artificial citric taste mixed with some very strong cheap alcohol, you still refill your cup after you finish it. 

It’s a nice feeling, to get a bit looser in a party and allowing yourself to have some adventurous fun. And as time goes by and your mind gets cloudier, the group starts to disperse. Two of them find a spot in the back with as much privacy as they could get in a party to swallow each others faces. Another one passes out in one of the seats behind you, hugging the empty plastic bottle as if it’d run away from them. It leaves just Abbey and Cosmo with you, discussing with each other about something that you’ve stopped paying attention a long while ago.

You just watch them silently, resting your head back on the seat and feeling the late hours weightening on your eyelids. You feel like you could doze off at any moment, but what stops you from it is a loud screeching sound of an amplifier from inside the house. It startles you, making you jump slightly on your seat as you hear a voice speaking almost like a groan, and you’re not sure if it’s your drunken mind or the inaudible words but you can’t make out a single thing that’s being said. A crease deepens between your eyebrows and you turn to question your friend about it but, before you can do so what seems like the most obnoxious cover of  We Built This City starts playing.

Abbey gasps as the chords of the song somehow get even louder, grasping her hand on the man’s arm. “Oh my god!” She squeals, exchanging a look with Cosmo as they both all but jump from their seats. She glances down at you, “We’re going in, are you coming?”

You raise your brows at her, trying to hide the scrunch on your face. “I’m good.”

She nods, making her way out of the bus, her feet stumbling on each other as she holds onto her friend’s shoulder to keep her balance. And just like that, you’re left alone on the leather seat.

You peek at the couple in the back, eyes bulging slightly as you see the girl has lost her shirt, the boy’s hands caress her chest as they keep their lips locked harshly. Deciding to give them a bit more privacy, you make your way out of the bus as well, the contrast from the compact air inside the vehicle to the crisp wind of the outdoors sending chills down your body.

Looking around, you realize most people hanging around are gone, probably gone inside the house. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the spot you’d seen Harry earlier, and you don’t hold back the shock in your face when you find him still sitting on the bench, but this time with no one else around him. He fiddles with a lighter on his hand, flickering every so often to watch the weak flame before letting it die again. 

Your feet start to move before you can really grasp that you’re walking towards him, your head still a bit cloudy from the substances in your bloodstream. He looks up once you get close to him, signature smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you.

“Look what we have here.” He leans back, “a lost bunny.” 

“Hi, Harry.” You say simply.

His smile turns a bit softer. “Where are your bandmates?”

“Celebrating.” You shrug.

“Shouldn’t you be as well?”

“I am.” You hold up the mostly empty red cup.

He chuckles. “I see, having fun by yourself then?”

You focus on a spot beyond his head, suddenly feeling timid under his gaze. “Seems like it.”

“Want to join my private party here?” He shifts to his side, patting the spot next to him. “S’very exclusive, as you can see.”

“Well, I’m honored to be invited, then.” You sit down on the space he made for you.

For a moment, there’s a silence between the two of you, the only sound being the jarring cover of  Everybody Wants to Rule The World. The notes of it are so off that you can’t help but huff a relieved breath when it comes to an end, enjoying the few seconds of silence before they begin another song. 

A small groan leaves your lips when the noise starts again, catching Harry’s attention as you feel his eyes land on the side of your face. “It should be illegal to ruin great songs like this.” You shake your head to yourself, speaking your thoughts out loud in a rush of confidence. “They should get arrested for it.”

He chuckles. “You’re not wrong.”

Your eyes dart at him, meeting his. It’s hard to miss the way his irises glimmer under the moonlight. When he glances down at the lighter still in his hands you take the opportunity to really have a look at him. The proximity makes you aware of a small constellation of freckles kissing his nose, and the stubble starting to poke out the skin along his jawline. You want to blame the haziness in your mind for the thoughts of how it would feel like to have it scratching against your skin. Or how it would feel under your lips as you nibble your way all the way to his rosy lips. You want to push these away, belittle them as nothing but drunken thoughts. But you know very well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve let yourself be entertained by them.

A pitched scream takes you out of your head. You realize there’s been a beat of silence since he’s spoken, so you clear your throat, a warmth creeping up on your neck as if he’d been able to hear your thoughts. “Do you know them?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not really, no. They played in the pub once, Ronnie hated them.” He glances at you, corner of his lips itching upwards. “Call themselves Crystal Illusion, so there’s that.”

“Christ.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”

The sound of his giggle makes you look back at him, catching the sight of his dimples carving deep on his cheeks. “You’re really something, aren’t you, bunny?”

“Why do you call me that?” The question rolls of your tongue before you can even think about it. His brows raise at your question, and you decide to enjoy the rush of confidence and pick on it further. “Dunno if I’m supposed to feel offended or charmed.”

 “Don’t mean it as a tease, can tell that much.” He smiles, shrugging slightly. “You just remind me of a bunny.”

The words pique your curiosity. “How so?”

He looks back down to his lap, and if it wasn’t for the poor lighting you would be sure of the blush taking over his cheeks. “Just all cute -- could tell you were a bit reserved, and like, curious. Had your eyes wandering all around when I first saw you.” He moves his head around lightly as if to explain his point and you have to bite back a smile. “And when you were focused you’d scrunch your nose a bit. Like a bunny.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say I have big ears.” You try to humor, searching for his eyes.

He laughs, looking up at you. “I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it…”

Your gasp shifts into a giggle as you push him away playfully. “Well, if I’m a bunny...” You pause, racking your mind to think of an analogy for him, but your mind is still a bit slowed down, your thoughts taking a beat too long to catch up to your words. When you glance down to the arm that’s brushing against yours, you notice the tattoo peaking on his skin. You reach for it without thinking about it, fingers tracing the ink as you take in the drawing, his eyes follow your touch curiously. “Then you’re an eagle.” You cringe to yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth, attempting to mask it as you breathe out a laugh.

He arches his brows, lips fluttering, trying to hold back a smile. “You think I’ll kill you?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” You cover your face with your hand, shaking your head at yourself. “Didn’t think that one through.” Your laughs meld together for a moment, slowly dying off and giving space a comfortable silence. The only sounds being the nightly hum of cicadas and the whisper of the breeze against the branches of the trees, that and, well, the faint screams of instruments from inside the house. Looking up at him, a breath hitches when you realize the proximity of his eyes to yours. You try to tease him but when you speak your voice comes out lower than you expected, almost in a whisper,  “so you think I’m cute?”

“Course I do.” He says in a blink. “Don’t think that’s much of a secret, love.”

You chew on your bottom lip, not missing the way his eyes dart down on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrow teasingly. “Think I’m pretty?”

“I won’t inflate your ego if that’s what you want.”

“I tried.” He breathes out a laugh, eyes moving back down on your face but this time he doesn’t rush them back to yours, not hiding the intent of his gaze. For the first time, you’re glad for the background noise, afraid that if it wasn’t for it he’d be able to hear the thumping of your heart.“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” You blink at him, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you’re a bit taken back at the forwardness of the question.

 He moves his arm to rest on the back of the bench, turning his hand to play with the tips of your hair. “Can I kiss you, bunny?” He repeats.

You nod before you can find it in you to voice your answer, clearing your throat, “yes.”

The hand that’s not in your hair moves to caress your cheek, he takes a moment to look at you, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before he leans in. Your eyes flutter close instinctively, holding your breath in anticipation as you feel his lips on the corner of your mouth. He keeps them there for a beat before pulling back, tilting your face a little just to finally close the space between your mouths.

The kiss starts slow. Uncertain, even. His lips are soft against yours, warm breath hitting your cupid bow as he sucks in your bottom lip gently. You feel his hand cupping your jaw, sneaking behind your neck as he pulls you closer and you all but melt under his touch. Being this close you can smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke of cigarettes, and something about it is so sensual you can’t help but grip on his shirt as to have something to hold on to.

You can feel yourself getting lost on his touch, shamelessly scooping to the side as you enlace your thighs for the sake of being closer to him. His hand falls on your knee, rubbing it as your tongue line on his bottom lip.

It’s the sound of the door that leads to the house sliding open that falls like a bucket of ice water on your head, reminding you of your surroundings, and that you’re not, in fact, alone with him in the garden, which means any of your friends could easily spot you if they were to walk outside.

  It’s almost like he reads your mind when you pull away from him, loosening your grasp on the material of his shirt. His lips don’t let you get far, trailing their way along your jaw until he can bite on your lobe. “Relax, petal” He whispers, pulling back to look at you as your noses brush together. “They won’t see us, even if they do they’re probably too stoned to even care.”

You let out a weak chuckle, gazing at the door where a group of people stumble their way towards the bus, voices loud as they slur incoherent words. It’s hard to see inside the house as most of the lights inside seem to be turned off, but you can tell how packed it is, bodies pressed so close together it makes you wince slightly just with the thought of being amongst them. Looking back at him, you ponder for a second before nodding. “You’re right.”

A grin paints on his face before he leans in, closing the space between you once again.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Still with us?” A call of your name on the mic snaps you out of your thoughts.

Looking up, you’re met with your bandmates curious eyes staring right at you and you realize you’ve probably been too lost in your own head to pay attention to the conversation in hand. Your lips part for a split second, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t give away your lack of focus but a single look at Abbey’s arched brows and you know you’ve been caught. 

You clear your throat, lips tugging on a guilty smile. “Sorry, I am now.” 

It’s hard not to let your eyes glimpse to the back of the room, where the sole reason for your distraction sits quietly on his regular spot, tucked behind his journal and doing his own thing. But you hold back the stare, knowing your moves were being watched by your friend who’s back to talking about the setlist changes for the night, and who would not be happy in the slightest to notice your wandering eyes falling on the one person she despises the most. You wonder how she’d react if she got her hands on the piece of paper burning through the back pocket of your denim shorts. 

The message was short and simple, but the connotation behind it carried a much stronger meaning to it.

Meet me in the back before the gig, want to see you. -H

You found it tucked inside your case, lying innocently on top of your bass, apparent enough so anyone who’d opened the case could’ve found it before you. Surely, no one else did, otherwise, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from the minute you’d stepped into the place. Which makes you wonder how he managed to slip in the note sneakily enough without anyone noticing it, but the curiosity is well dulled in your mind by the pounding of your heart.

To your dismay, however, you barely got a look at him throughout the rehearsal. You got to The Blue Bird later than you’d intended to, the tutoring session you had on the day ended up running later than you’d expected. So by the time you stepped through the string curtains of the pub  Harry was already tucked on the shadowy corner and everyone else was hanging by the stage waiting for you, barely giving you a second to set your bag in the dressing room.

So it’s hard for you not to stare when he gets up from his seat, walking into the lighter space of the bar with his signature smirk painted on his face. You’d just gone through the last song of your set for the second time -- an amplified version of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Lena insisting on repeating it after messing up on the first try). He’s holding a maroon leather jacket on his arm, along with his journal, leaving his arms bare under his Bowie tank top -- which, as he approaches the stage you notice the uneven hem on the sleeves, suggesting he might’ve cut them off himself.  His hair is running wild as usual, the fringe curling against his forehead and you chew on your lip at the thought of running your hands through it as you did not even a week ago.

He reaches to the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he reaches the end of the stage. “That was a great one, everybody, maybe if you keep it going we can get you a spot on that wacky show they’re premiering.” He sets the stuff he’s carrying on the stage floor, crossing his arms on top of it. “What’s it called again? ‘S like ‘gag me with a spoon’ or something like that.”

“We wouldn’t want to steal your spot again.” The words leave your lips before you can process them, for a moment forgetting you’re not alone with him so your playful tease can be easily interpreted as mocking. 

He rests the things he’s carrying on his arm on the stage floor, hoisting himself up almost effortlessly before picking them up again, walking the few steps it takes for him to stand in front of you. His lips are tugged on a shit-eating grin. “Got another feisty one in here, huh?” He crosses his arms under his chest, and you can’t help but note the way his muscles flex at the gesture, his tattoos dancing slightly on his skin. “What makes you so smug about stealing my spot? Reckon Ronnie only said he needed more chicks hanging around.”

“If that’s the case then there’s no need for you to be intimidated by a band of chicks, then.” You keep your eyes trained on his, but you can notice Abbey’s getting wider from over his shoulder. 

His lips twitch up, and you can tell he’s holding back a genuine smile as not to crack your act. “Am I intimidated now, bunny?”

“It’s what it looks like.” You shrug, now holding back your own smile.

“Maybe you need to take a better look at things then, angel.”  He starts walking backwards in the direction of the backstage. “Wouldn’t want any more misunderstandings, would we?”

“Don’t think we would.” 

And with that, he turns around, walking the rest of the way out and disappearing as he rounds the corner to where you know it’s the door leading to the back alleyway. You just stand there quietly for a moment, following his steps as you try to recollect what just happened. For the two of you, it was clear that the tension was the product of an unspoken want circling around, but you question for a second if that’s the impression that your friends had. And as you look at their expressions, raised brows and mouths agape, it’s hard to tell.

“Holy shit, babe.” Abbey is the first to speak out. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

You hold back a relieved exhale, shrugging slightly as you remove the strap of the bass from your shoulder. “He was just getting on my nerves.” You face away from her, placing the instrument on the stand.

The anticipation of meeting Harry grows impatiently on your stomach as you try to find a gap where no one’s attention is on you to sneak out of the dressing room. It seems as if every time you think you can do it, someone pulls you in, either to try to push you another pill of something you’re not sure what it is or to ask you to help with their makeup. But as the room gets filled and people get higher, their focus become more diffuse, and finally, after finishing assisting Jaz with her eyeliner (her hands were too shaky to get it right) you manage to slip out the room into the corridor.

There’s a sense of recognition that takes over your body when you feel the wind messing with your hair as you step out the building to be met with Harry’s figure leaning back on the wall, not too far from the spot you found him the last time you’d been in this same position. His eyes shoot in your direction as soon as you step through the door as if he’d been waiting for this just as eagerly as you were. He quickly throws the butt of the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it before standing tall as you slowly approach him.

“Hi.” You say simply, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts -- not knowing with to do with your hands.

“Hi.” His grin grows. “Came back here to intimidate me?” He teases, biting on his bottom lip.

“Actually,” you scrunch your lips, deciding to play his game as you reach on your back pocket, retrieving the small piece of paper and holding it up. “Got this very desperate note from a secret admirer but I don’t see any hotties here.” You click your tongue, looking around as you let out a loud sigh. “Guess it might be just a misunderstanding.”

He laughs, hands reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “That’s too bad, guess you’re stuck with me”

“Yeah?” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer so that your chests meet and his forehead falls against yours.

He nods in response, your noses brushing gently before he leans to meet your mouth with his own.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s a thrilling feeling that settles deep within you when it comes to holding a secret.

It’s that spark of excitement that brings a kaleidoscope of butterflies to come alive on your stomach. The kind of feeling that makes every cell of your body feel not just simply alive but as if it’s burning with joy. Which is why you guess falling into a routine of sneaking around with Harry on secret little rendezvous was so easy, to begin with. 

Of course, your friends’ opinions are important to you, but you know that you’re an adult very much capable of making your own decisions. That means sleeping with anyone you’d like despite their ill opinions about the person, without having to sneak around as if you’re teenagers hiding from your parents. You know that, and you try to remind yourself of that every time you catch yourself lying to them about your whereabouts at every coming day. 

In the beginning, you weren’t even sure that there was anything to it except for a couple of innocent kisses, maybe some not-so-innocent touches here and there, but nothing really worth even telling anyone. You’d only really see Harry on the weekends. When he would steal moments with you before your gigs when you “had to take a breather”. Or when mysteriously disappeared from your friends’ sides during after parties after they already had their minds buzzed and noses backed up. Or even when your night walks would tart becoming gradually longer due to your curiosity getting the best of you once you found yourself in front of the familiar Pub on Harry’s nights.

The weekends’ escapades took a different turn when they graduated to weekdays. Things took a quick turn then. It started with him offering you a ride to the houses for your tutoring or to the library (stealing kisses every now and then, of course). And before you knew, you were making up classes or books to rent for your oblivious roommates, only to spend hours on Harry’s car. Coming back with puffy lips and messy hair.

Part of you felt bad for going behind their backs, every now and then feeling an urge to pull Lena aside and gush about him for as long as your heart desired.

But it’s the thrill of it, of having something that’s just yours to have, that no one else knows except the two of you. The adrenaline that comes with the possibility of getting caught at any moment, but being able to get away with it. It’s almost addicting to you, so you prefer to have these moments just to yourself.

As the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months, it just made it harder for you to tell them you’d been hiding a whole relationship for this amount of time. Well, not exactly a relationship, but as close as you ever got to one anyway.

And it’s not like you’d never had anyone before. Being in the music scene, you’ve had your quite a few amounts of flings — even though not as many as it’s expected. But no one has ever left you as enamored as him, especially not as quickly as he has. He’s intriguing, carrying around that mysterious aura around him that leaves everyone wondering the secrets he holds in his heart. 

Although when it’s just the two of you it’s like this cocky persona of him completely dissolves. It’s a complete contrast from the image he carries around the restless mouths of prying people. He’s not that enigmatic heartbreaker who hops around strangers beds as if to live that classic Rock ‘n Roll lifestyle you see on TV. Rather, he’s shown himself to be the most caring man you’ve ever been with.

And that’s how you found yourself in this position, your body awkwardly positioned on your side in the rear seat of his car. A hand tangled on his hair while the other pulls at his Bowie shirt, you know your lips are probably starting to get swollen and his are taking a raspberry tone from the way they’d been sucking at one another. So with that in mind, you part from his mouth, trailing kisses along his cheek, and a final one at his nose before sitting back on the seat.

Just as you predicted his rose-colored lips are plump as he grins back at you, his locks are wild on top of his head. His hair has grown around his jawline now, curls poking out in all directions and you can’t help but reach your hand to pull his fringe back from his forehead. His smile growing fondly and eyes fluttering shut as you run your hand through his strands. 

When you pull away you catch a glimpse of your wrist clock, cringing slightly at yourself as you realize you should start thinking of heading home.

“I have to go soon.” You let your hand fall to your lap with a sigh.

“Already?” He pouts. “Barely had any time together.”

“We’ve been here for two hours, silly.” You giggle at his dramatics, leaning to press your lips on his chin.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close. “Exactly, barely any time.”

He turns his head to connect your mouths once more before pulling you against him so your head rests on his shoulder. You look beyond the glass of the windshield to the nearly empty street -- saving from a few people walking back from what you assume is a day of work

He’s parked on the usual spot two blocks away from your house, and from this angle, you can see the front gate that leads to the entrance. The front seat of the coupe still folded forward as there was no reason to set it back to place considering the circumstance in which you were on the backseat. You had called home from the payphone in front of the library, letting Lena know you’d be home late to catch up with some studies -- another lie to your pile.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you -- apart from the low voice of the radio Dj interrupting A-ha’s Take On Me in the background. If you move your head just right you can hear his speeding heartbeat, and if wasn’t for the faltering on his breathing you’d assume he was just as relaxed as you are. You move away from him, his arm falling around your waist, looking at his profile as he pokes at his jeans, a crease between his eyebrows.

You rest your cheek against the leather seat, grasping his chin with your fingers and gently moving his head so his gaze meets yours. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He breathes out a laugh, shrugging lightly as he brings his hand to scratch at the tip of his nose. “Nothing much.”

“But there’s something.” You insist, being able to tell he’s pondering over something.

“It’s just-- I just thought--” he pauses with a sigh. You play with the rings on his fingers, waiting patiently for him to express his thoughts, you can tell he’s a bit nervous which is an adorable change from his regular charming demeanor. “I wanted to maybe-- like, we could have a date.”

. 

You straighten your posture, lips parting as you take in his words. “A date?”

“Yeah… A proper one, you know?” He shrugs, eyes darting back on yours. “If you want to, that is! Don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

“I do, H.” You nod, chewing on your lip as you try to recollect your thoughts. It’s not as if you don’t want to go on a date with him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But turning it into a formality just changes completely the scheme of things and, as much as you felt like this is an inevitable step to take at some point, you still feel protective to an extent of this secret you have between the two of you. So you can help but let your voice come a little apologetic, “it’s just--”

“I know.” His shoulders drop and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart.

“Hey.” You caress his cheek. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” His lips perk up in a small smile, and you lean forward to give him a peck.

He’s still looking at you with puppy-like eyes and it does nothing to help the heaviness in your heart from turning him down. You lean again this time to spread kisses around his cheek as an attempt to pull a giggle out of him, but you only earn a light chuckle so you seat back tilting your head to look at him with a pluck of your lips. “C’mon where’s my smug rockstar gone?”

“He’s right here.” The shadow of his dimples appears on his cheeks. His voice comes out low and gentle, as if he’s still pondering over what you said earlier, “just toned him down a bit.”

You sigh, trying to rack your brain to another subject that can distract him from it. You catch sight of the slightly smudged end of his eyeliner, and your face lights up as you remember a request you’ve always wanted to bring it up. “Do you want to know something?” Biting back a cheeky grin, you cross your arms under your chin as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Should let me do your makeup, so you can be a proper rockstar.”

He lets out a laugh. “Do I need that, now?”

“Mhm, said it yourself, it’s part of the look.”

“Did I say that?” You nod, teeth still biting on your lip. He lets out a breath, contemplating the idea for a second before looking back at you. “Okay then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Course, could never say no to you even if I tried.” He lets his hand fall on your thigh, rubbing it gently. “On one condition, though.” You arch your brows in question. “Come to my gig tomorrow.”

You face scrunches in confusion. “I always go to your gigs.”

“Yeah but I mean go earlier, like so we can hang out before and stuff.” His finger starts to draw circles on your knee. “So you can do my makeup, too, can go on stage looking all pretty.”

“As if you could ever look anything less than pretty.” You say before sitting back, thinking of his proposal. “You’re asking me to be there early…”

“What? D’you have plans already? Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” And there it is, the teasing Harry you know.

You shake your head, poking his side playfully. “Oh yeah, maybe I should’ve mentioned him sooner.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes before looking at you, his voice coming down to a pleading tone. “Come, please.”

Before the yes can roll off your tongue you remember that you wouldn’t be alone with him. “What about your band?” 

He furrows his brows. “What about them?”

“Well, do they know?”

“They couldn’t care less about us, baby.” He sighs, head falling back on the seat as he moves his hand so it rests on your inner thigh, rubbing a spot in there. “Have no meaning hiding you.”

You can’t hold back the smile that grows on your lips, leaning to press a kiss to his mouth before letting professing in just above a whisper, “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“‘S poking my eye.”

“Shh, quiet.”

“You’re rubbing it too harsh.” Harry grabs your wrist, eyes fluttering open to stare up at you.

“I’m being gentle, you’re just not used to the feeling of the brush.” You argue, keeping a finger under his chin so his head is tilted upwards as you shuffle on his lap. “Now close your eyes, I’m almost done.”

He lets out a huff, trying to feign annoyance, but the slight twitch of his lips and the subtle appearance of his dimples break his facade. You know as much as he won’t admit to it, he’s quite enjoying having you propped on his lap, fingers stroking gently his eyelids while you hum along to The Cure’s record that’s mixing with the murmurs of the other people in the room.

To your surprise, you’ve come to realize that the dressing room is significantly less chaotic when it comes to Harry’s band. The place is not nearly as packed as it can get during your nights, in fact, apart from the band itself, there’s only a handful of people hanging around. And as much as you notice their bloated pupils and stumbled walks, they mostly keep it to themselves, sharing around a bottle of vodka to wash down their pills.

Like Harry had assured you, his bandmates couldn’t be less bothered by your presence amongst them. And as much as you recognize all from the numerous gig you’ve been in before, and that according to them your name has been frequently mentioned by Harry himself (which did make his cheeks turn into an adorable shade of red), it’s nice to be formally introduced to them. In fact, they were so quick to treat you as one of their own that you could feel a slightly guilty feeling expanding on your chest from the number of times you’d heard your friends bad mouthing them in attempts to joke around. 

You swallowed the feeling back, though, accepting a plastic cup they poured with champagne (which you learned is a tradition before gigs) and making a conversation.

“Are you done yet?” You feel the vibration of his voice on that back of your fingers that touch against his throat.

“Yes,” you say with a final stroke of your brush on his eyes, sitting back to admire your work with your teeth carved on your bottom lip. “You can open your eyes, baby.”

He blinks his eyes open and you can’t help the smile that breaks through your lips as you examine the contrast of the burning red eyeshadow with his jade irises as he looks back at you. “How do I look?” 

You grab his cheeks, leaning down to press a quick peck on his lips. “Like a proper rockstar.”

“Yeah?” He grins once you let your hands caress on the smooth skin of his chest poking through his unbuttoned blue blouse. “Think I can finally get some groupies now?”

Scoffing, you swing your hand to shove him back playfully with a roll of your eyes. You try to move away but he grabs hold of your wrists, pulling you in again. “You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like it.” His hands fall to your waist, bringing it closer as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

His lips meet your on a slow kiss, allowing you to taste the strawberry flavor of the lipstick you’d applied earlier, the thought of messing it completely lost in your mind as you tilt your head to deepen it even more. His fingers now grip on your hips over your denim skirt that has ridden up considerably since you first propped yourself on his lap. For a moment you just stay like this, tangled on each other’s arms, every so often you scratch on his neck, pulling his hair just a bit so you can swallow the most delicious mewls.

He parts from you as slowly as the kiss started, pecking on your lips a couple of times before letting his head fall back, hands moving to rub at your thighs over your pink tights. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at you with a smirk, voice coming low as if he’s sharing a secret just between the two of you, “can we go to the back?”

“Sure.” You unstranddle him, adjusting your skirt as you stand up and offering your hands to help him to his feet. He takes them, almost bringing you back down on the couch as he pulls a little bit too hard. 

Once he’s up he takes a look at himself on the mirror in the wall opposite to the couch, a pleased smile on his face letting you know he likes the result of your work. He reaches for your hand then, guiding you into the hallway and out the back door you’ve become so familiar with.

Walking into the alleyway, he walks to his usual spot, leaning back on the wall and pulling you with him. His hands easily find their place on your waist once again, fingers tapping against the fabric of your skirt anxiously. Looking down at you, there’s anticipation on his eyes, as if he’s trying to tell you something but is waiting for you to bring it up.

“So,” he begins, eyes darting around as he parts his legs a bit, enough to fit you between them as he pulls you closer.

“So…” You say, drifting off as a way to encourage him to keep going.

“I’ve thought about the date thing.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his har. “Wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be doing that?”

 He shrugs slightly, looking down to where his fingers fiddle with a loose strand of your vest. There’s something very endearing about seeing him so nervous, a complete opposite to how he carries himself in public, as this cocky and confident guy. You’re grateful that he allows you to see this side of him, though, bringing your hand to caress his jawline as you wait him to speak his thoughts. “Yeah, but I had like, an idea, or whatever.”

“Do tell.”

“I thought we could do--” he shakes his head a bit. “We could go to a place that’s still more reserved, and stuff.” 

“Like?”

“I dunno, I--” he chews on his lip, a habit he’s starting to get from you. “Thought we could go to my flat and like hang out, we could go to that diner that has a drive tru and get something to eat and go back to my place.” 

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” You tease, not being able to hold back a smile.

“It’s not like that, I just--” he huffs, cheeks getting a bit flushed as he tries to explain himself. “Just if you’re comfortable with it, of course, we can still go around on my car if you prefer, I don’t mind.”

“Harry?” You hold his cheek, moving it so his eyes can meet yours. Rubbing your thumb against his smooth skin, you try to soothe him, shooting him a fond smile.  “I think that’s a really nice idea.”

“Yeah?” You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, I can, like, call you before I leave home so you can go to our spot and I can pick you up, yeah?” It’s the fastest he’s speaking since the moment you walked out of the building, voice a pitch higher. “How about Friday?

“Great.” You giggle, tangling your fingers on his hair to pull him down so his forehead rests against yours. Lips brushing, you blink up at him, jade eyes flickering around your face, “I can’t wait.”

He smiles. “Me too.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

An annoyed puff leaves your lips as you notice another typo in one of the words inked in the paper poking out of the typewriter. You grab it maybe a bit too forcefully, this being the fourth time in a matter of minutes you had to do this. Taking it out of the platen, you reach for the whiteout conveniently prompted next to you, carefully correcting the error before putting the paper back on the machine.

With the end of the term peeking around the corner, you’ve been finding yourself in this position more often than not. Either rushing with your essays or grading assignments from your students. No matter what the arrangement is, however, there’s always a guarantee to have a half-empty mug of coffee and a pile of textbooks spattered on your desk. 

This time around is no different, as you lean back on your chair, closing your eyes and rubbing your hands over your face, you try to focus on Cyndi Lauper singing in the background as a way to relieve your stress. You can feel the inkling of a headache deep inside your forehead, indicating maybe it’s time to give yourself a break, So, you try your best to relax the tension out of your muscles, breathing in the soft chamomile scent of the burning candle on your nightstand -- it’s one Lena gave to you to help with the stress a few days ago. What disturbs you from your moment of meditation with Time After Time, making you snap out of your breathing exercise, is the ringing tone of the telephone echoing through the house. The sound comes into your room a bit muffled thanks to your closed door, but it’s still enough to irritate you.

You hear closely to the sounds outside your door, waiting for Lena, who you know is propped on the couch downstairs watching TV, to pick up the call and cease the annoying tune interrupting your moment. And as you predict, in just a few minutes the ringing noise stops as quickly as it started, making you relax back on your chair. Closing your eyes again, you let yourself go back to the moment before the interruption, untensing your shoulders. You can hear the pound of heavy footsteps coming up the wooden staircase, but don’t process them getting closer until your door swings open.

Lena is standing in your doorway with an expression that’s hard to read at first, her brows set on a slight frown her hairline and mouth agape. Before you can tell her off for her sudden entrance she’s already speaking, “can you tell me why the fuck Harry Styles is calling our house looking for you?”

You can feel your heartbeat falter at her words, eyes widening as you glance at your bunny-shaped clock and realizing you had gotten so lost in your studies you forgot about the date. “Shit,” you get up so fast from your chair it falls back on the rug. You turn to Lena, who’s watching the scene with the most amused smirk on her face, “is he still one the line?”

As soon as she nods you’re stumbling down the stairs, almost falling down on the last steps but catching yourself up on the railing. You reach for the wired phone lying upwards on the hallway stand, picking it up and walking into the closest door - which happens to be the coat closet - closing it behind you.

“Hello?” You sound out of breath, heartbeat roaring in your ear.

“Did I fuck it up?” His voice is hesitant, nearly remorseful, it makes your heart drop.

“I-- no, you didn’t.” You reassure, leaning back on the wall of the tiny space, instantly regretting your decision of not choosing the restroom in your panic state.  “I just got caught up with an essay and didn’t see the time passing.”

“Do you want to reschedule?” He drags out the words as if he doesn’t want to say them. “We can do this another day, I don’t mind.”

“No!” You protest quickly, reaching back to roughly adjust a hanger that’s poking on your neck, causing a raincoat to fall on your feet. “Of course not, I really need a break, anyway. I want to see you.”

“Want to see you, too.” You can hear the smile on his voice. “What about your friend?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple slightly. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll be at yours in around fifteen, is that good?”

“That’s perfect, yes.”

“I’ll see you in a bit then…” He drifts off, as if he wants to say something else, but stops himself.

“See you.”

The familiar sound of the deadline takes place and you sigh, letting your head fall back on the wall with a thump and staying like that for a moment. When you step out of the closet, the first thing you see is Lena leaning against the railing of the stairs, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You bitch.”

Your shoulders drop, not wanting to have this conversation right now, as you put the phone back on the base. “Can we not do this--”

“You’ve been fucking him all this time and you didn’t tell me?” She crosses her arms under her breasts. “Abbey is gonna throw a fit when she knows this.”

“You’re not gonna tell her.”

“I’m not.” She agrees with you. “But she already knows you’re sneaking out with someone.”

“She does?” Your voice gets higher, eyes widening slightly.

“She might be high as a kite most of the time, yes, but she’s not stupid.” She chuckles. “And you’re not the best at hiding either, or you thought we wouldn’t notice you’re barely at home anymore?”

You frown your mouth, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “Does she suspect that it’s him?”

“Not really no, thought it was one of your students.”

You can’t help the horrified look that takes over your face. “I tutor children!”

“Ooh,” she breathes out a laugh. “Well, to be fair, he’s probably the last person she would suspect.”

“She’s gonna kill me.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “But she’ll just have to get over it.”

“I guess.”

Lena looks at you, dropping her arms as she walks to you. Holding into your shoulders, her expression softens. “Don’t worry about this right now, okay? Go get ready for your date.”

“You’re right.”  You sigh, nodding. It takes you a second, but as you process her words, you frown, squinting your eyes at her. “How do you know we have a date right now?”

Her hands drop, mouth scrunching as she waves her hands around. “I just guessed.”

“Were you listening on the line?’

“Of course not!” She steps away.

“Adeline!”

She backs away, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen splattered on her face. “It was just a bit of it! I was curious!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I’m gonna cut the cord of that phone in your room.”

“No, you’re not.” 

Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you take a careful step in her direction, causing her to go up another step. There’s a beat of silence where you two just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. When you finally give in, racing towards the staircase, she stumbles up the rest of the steps, the sound of your giggles mixing together taking over the space.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s an instant sense of comfort when you see Harry’s lime green Ford parked on your usual spot, one that gives an extra pep to your walk, pushing all the stress you’ve been dwelling with to the back of your mind. And as you relax into the leather seat, windows down and radio up, you let yourself enjoy the anticipation of spending the rest of your day with him that settles deep in your stomach. 

You’d always wondered what Harry’s apartment would look like, imagining his LP’s splattered across the place, along with loose papers filled with guitar riffs and song lyrics. Maybe a couple of plants here and there, from what he told you he had tried to take care of one or two before, but always ended up forgetting to water them on schedule. And there’s also a notion inside of you that two young men living together in an apartment are bound to live in somewhat of a nest, so you brace yourself for the piles of beer cans and video game wires tangling on the floor.

When he opens the front door for you, letting you walk in before him, it does surprise you to find a tidier place than you’d expected his living room to be, but you realize you’d not been much far off with your assumption. It’s clear this is a house of musicians from the second you step in, the first sight being two guitars leaning on the wall next to the mud green couch, surrounded by - you guessed it - loose papers, which you assume are filled with scribbled ideas. A wall piano also stands out across the room, a single ashtray standing on top of it next to two candles, where you assume comes the faint scent of vanilla comes from.

“Sorry about the mess,” Harry speaks out from behind you, shrugging out of his usual denim jacket and throwing it over the couch arm, looking back at you with his hands on his hips.

“It’s alright.” Your teeth sink on your bottom lip as you take in the sight of him. Without his jacket, he’s left with just a wine-colored half-buttoned blouse, sleeves rolled up to his elbows so some of his tattoos are exposed. Part of the hem is tucked inside his low waist jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly it makes you want to grip your nails on it. Shaking your head, lightly, you let your eyes wander around the room once more, so he doesn’t notice you gawking at him. “Was expecting worse, to be honest.”

“Do you think that little of me?” He feigns offense.

You giggle, taking a lazy step towards him, shrugging. “I just don’t expect two young men to know the basic of cleaning, that’s all.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, taking a moment to just look at you. When a silence settles between the two of you, you raise your brows at him, waiting for him to make the first move. He clears his throat, running his hand through his hair. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Sure!” You nod. “Do you have, like, beer or…”

“Yes, yes I--” he stops, face lighting up in realization. “No wait, I have something better.” He strides towards a door to where you assume the kitchen is, calling over his shoulder, “make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you pull your purse off your shoulder, letting it rest beside Harry’s jacket on the couch. Glancing over your shoulder, there are no signs of him coming back, so you take the opportunity to snoop around the area. 

There’s a small center table in front of the couch, probably the messiest part of the room so far, a few movie magazines splattered around with another ashtray lying on top of it, a few butts of cigarettes long forgotten along with their ashes. Next to it, is a VHS cover of </i> Ghostbusters, a rental receipt paper scrambled on top of it. What calls your attention is a couple of cassette tapes, some with titles you recognize from being Harry’s songs scribbled on top of them but others don’t have a label, which leads you to assume they must be blank. 

You walk around the table, gazing to the tv stand, where a poster of Freud is stuck on the wall behind it -- and breathing out a laugh as you notice someone had drawn glasses and colored his beard with a red sharpie. A bookshelf stands next to it, completely filled with records (apart from a single succulent that has a piece of paper with the name “Ziggy” glued to it). Your curiosity gets the best of you, picking up some LPs on random and what does surprise you, is the lack of a common theme between them. Finding a bit of everything, from some very recognizable names you’ve seen Harry rock to, like Billy Joel and The Clash, to some you’d never even heard him speak of like Culture Club and even a brand new Madonna record.

You have just picked up the cover of Ladies of the Canyon when his voice startles you from behind. “Mitchell, huh?”

Turning back with the record still in hands, you look down at it. “I love her.” You glance up, taking notice of the glasses in his hand, filled with a liquid of a yellow so bright it reminds you of a highlighter. “What’s this?”

“This,” he hands you a glass. “Is a drink we made.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You made this?”

 “I’m a man of many talents, bunny.”

“It looks like poison.” You bring the glass up to your nostrils, taking in the strong scent of alcohol. “Am I going to be poisoned? Is this a big plan to get rid of your rival’s bassist?”

“Stop being silly.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s mainly pineapple and vodka, takes weeks to be done, proper fancy stuff, you know?”

“Oh yeah super fancy.” You tease, chewing on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.“Pineapple and vodka.”

“Shut up and drink it.” He says, watching you carefully as you slowly bring the brim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of it. An instant sweet taste of pineapple invading your tastebuds, but the vodka is so present it makes you scrunch your nose. Harry gives you a small smile, eyes trained on you as he waits for your verdict, “so…”

“It’s strong.” Your face is still a bit rumpled from the alcohol, but you relax it eventually taking another sip of it, this time quite more prepared for it. “But it’s good, tastes like pineapple and vodka, who would say?”

“Shut up.” He chuckles, taking a step back and propping himself down on the couch.

With the record still in hands, you turn to put it back where you found it, admiring the full bookshelf once more. “Got a nice collection here, Styles, I gotta admit.”

He sips on his drink. “Found something you fancy in there?”

“A couple.”

“Put on something you like.” He motions to the record player standing next to the shelf. You look through the vast collection again, picking some at random and putting it back once you realize it’s not what you’re looking for. After going through a few, you finally stumble upon Elton John’ Madman Across The Water, holding it up to show it to Harry. “Oh, so we’re in one of those moods?”

You pull the vinyl from the sleeve, carefully placing it on the player and adjusting the needle over it. As the beginning note of Tiny Dancer float through the room, you look back at him. “What mood?”

 “Like, a happy-sad kind of mood.”

You nod, setting yourself on the couch next to him. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

As the first few songs swim in the air around there’s a light chatter that settles between the two of you. Nothing out of your ordinary conversations, mainly consisting of you gushing over John Taylor as Harry rolls his eyes and sips on his drink to mask the drop of jealousy that grows on his chest -- “He’s not that good looking, you lot should have better standards” he said with a huff, making you giggle at his antics and pinch his cheeks. But it doesn’t take long, barely going halfway through the record, until the two of you begin to feel more lightheaded, eyes glossy and tongues getting looser. You should’ve expected that from the very first sip of the drink in your hand, knowing it wouldn’t take much more than a glass of it to get you right boozed up. And it doesn’t help that which each sip of it the sweetness of the pineapple takes over the strong taste of the alcohol, and in a matter of a few songs, you already feel your mind soaring away.

Harry is not much different, you realize, becoming quite a bit of a giggly drunk as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes and slurred words coming out of his mouth (which only makes him laugh more at himself). From what he told you, it hasn’t been the first time he and Mitch attempted on making the drink themselves. They tried it at a cramped bar right outside a Tears For Fears concert and it had gotten them so knackered so quickly they went back the next day to ask the barman (who also happened to be the owner) what was it in. Turns out it was just watermelon and vodka, but the man also explained that the technique he used that took about two weeks for the drink to be ready. From the man’s explanation, it seemed simple enough so they decided to try it for themselves, except they replaced the watermelon with pineapple.

“Just to add a bit of fun to it.” He shimmies his body.

“Is it like the original, though?” 

“‘S close, but not quite his.” He hiccups. “I’m convinced he left out some of the details, the bastard, didn’t want to go around giving out the secret formula of it.”

You giggle, biting into the brim of your glass. “I’m curious to try it with watermelon, now that you’ve mentioned.”

“You have to, bunny!” His head falls back on the couch, dimples so deep you want to bite into them, his hand strokes lazily on your thigh, every now and then moving up to rub at the hem of your playsuit. “I’ll take you there sometime, we can get baked and crash into a concert at the music house that’s right in front of it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When the blue of the sky outside begins to fade into a golden glow, ribbons of pink and orange cutting through it, you’re already completely far gone. The record player is now only letting out a faint buzz from the lack of sound now that the LP is over. Your head is filled with clouds and you don’t register when Harry reaches back for the guitar, only really registering it once he’s stringing out a familiar melody. He stumbles with the lyrics but as soon as you recognize the beginning line of </i> Big Yellow Taxi you’re joining him, your voices tangling in a high pitch as you more of scream the lines than really bother to sing it. Harry gets completely lost in it, and you let him take over every so often just to watch him, mimicking Joni Mitchell's voice and even enacting her laugh, which makes you laugh until your belly hurts and your cheeks get flushed.

It’s one of those moments you want to get locked in, to live in it forever. Watching him stumbling the lyrics of different songs, the words tumbling out of his mouth between giggles, fingers stroking the cord of the guitar maybe a bit too harshly as you join him without a care in the world to who may be bothered by it. You feel so free with him, it’s a feeling that takes over your whole body, a warmth of knowing you don’t have to filter yourself or fit any type of expectation. And as he ends another cover with violent strokes on the guitar you laugh along with him for a moment before letting the room quiet down. Crossing your arms over the back of the couch and resting your cheek against it, you just look at him.

His bloodshot green meets yours, his chest rising as he catches his breath from the frantic songs, teeth sinking on his bottom lip as he smiles at you. “Gonna slow down a bit fo’ you.”

You raise your brows at him, smiling in anticipation as he begins to smooth his fingers through the cords much more gently than he had been previously. His head moves along to the beat as he gazes down at the instrument, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows in concentration. It’s a complete contrast from the playful demeanor that had taken over the room just minutes ago.

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me.” He begins, and your ears instantly perk up as you identify the same song you’d heard him play months ago at the pub, the one that made you enter it to watch him for the first time. “You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me.”

It’s much different now, however, not just from the fact that he’s singing it on his own without the band backing him up. But it’s the meaning behind it, the rawness of his voice, low and slightly raspy, the words still come out a bit mumbled but you couldn’t care less about it, only focusing on the emotion he puts to them. 

“Love of my life, can’t you see?” His eyes are still set on the guitar and you search for them almost desperately, shifting closer to him and cupping his cheek, guiding him to meet your gaze. “Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.”

The swell in your heart is overwhelming to an extent, his glossy eyes looking into your with such sincerity it makes you want to jump on him, but you hold back as he keeps going, feeling nearly hypnotized by his voice.

“Because you don’t know, what it means to me.” He leans into your touch, turning to press a quick kiss on your palm as he keeps stroking the chords in a quiet melody. “Love of my life, don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but shake your head slightly as he sings the lyric almost like a plea. “You’ve stolen my love, and now desert me.” He looks back down at the guitar, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. “Love of my life, can’t you see?”

“Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.” Peeking under his lashes, he grins up at you, and you can only imagine how you must look to him. Mouth slightly agape, barely blinking as you’re scared if you do this will all turn out to be nothing but a dream. His voice comes out next a bit lower, stretching out the words, “Because you don’t knoow.”

He strokes the chords a bit mindlessly now, playing with the sound of the melody, and he does it so effortlessly you almost hold your breath as not to miss it. “What it means to me.”

When he stops, you don’t really think before latching yourself on him, throwing one leg on each side of his thighs, and cupping his face before meeting his mouth with yours. He immediately wraps an arm around your back, his other hand taking the guitar off his lap and blindly placing it against the wall next to the couch. Once the instrument is no longer a barrier, he places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You can taste the memory of a pineapple still lingering on his tongue as you lick into his mouth. The kiss is hungry, maybe a bit sloppy thanks to the substance still very much present in your bloodstreams, but you don’t mind, only moving a hand to tangle on his hair, scratching at his scalp before pulling at his roots. 

A whimper escapes from his mouth, getting lost inside your throat, his grip on your thighs tightens, nails digging in it and you know will leave crescent shapes on your skin. It only makes you do it again, this time his head tilting backward with a small groan, disconnecting your lips, but you’re soon to connect it again, splattering kisses along his jawline until it meets his neck. When you suck on his pulse point, running your tongue over it, his skin vibrates on your lips as he lets out a whine. His hands are now running all over your thighs before resting on top of your ass, bringing your hips to grind against his.

Even with your hazed mind, it’s still hard to miss the very prominent bulge under his jeans. It makes you pull back, looking down to see it straining against his zipper. There’s a flip of a switch inside of you when you realize how much he’s yearning for it, it’s the desire you’ve been pushing back for months now, crashing into you like a wave and you can barely contain a small mewl at the sight.

“Bunny.” He breathes out. When you look back to him, you notice his eyes have darkened considerably. “We don’t have to--”

“Please.” You let your forehead fall against his, rolling your hips again, stealing another whimper from him. “If you want to, I want to.”

“I do -- fuck, I do.” He nods as you keep grinding on him, his hand disappearing on your back pocket, trying to get as closer to you as possible.

When you meet his lips again, the kiss is somehow eager than before. The longing is evident as you grab onto each other. Your hands travel down his chest, nails digging softly on his exposed skin, and once you feel the fabric of his shirt, you’re quickly to undo the rest of the buttons, not disconnecting from him as you do so. Smoothing your hands back up to his shoulders, you help him shrug off the material, letting it fall to the couch without paying mind to it.

“Wait,” he sneaks between kisses, hands coming up to your waist you push you off gently.

You watch with your brows narrowed as he gets up from the couch, walking to his shelf and standing in front of it, looking for something. Leaning to your side, you let yourself admire the muscles of his back as his fingers run through the edges of the records. It’s impressive how even though his collection takes over the whole furniture, he still seems to know exactly where to look for it, focusing on a small section right at the top. He quickly finds what he’s looking for, pulling it with a ‘Aha!’ before turning back to you. 

He holds up a very familiar black cover, the imprint of Queen’s Greatest Hits instantly calling your attention. Doing the same as you’d done earlier, he takes out the disk, placing it on the player before adjusting the needle over it. You watch it with a smile teasing on your lips, finding oddly endearing how he made you pull away from him with the sole purpose of putting on a soundtrack -- making notice to put on something you’d like, as well. He cranks up the volume as the first words of Bohemian Rhapsody start to swallow your thoughts, turning back to you and offering his hand with a cheeky grin painted on his face.

Taking his hold, you let him pull you up from the couch and, before you can really register it, he’s guiding you through the hallway. You stumble on your footing as he rushes a bit to fast for you to really wrap your head around it, the walls of the corridor passing by almost in a blur as it takes your mind a beat too long to catch up with your eyes. Still, your giggles dance along with his all the way to his door at the end of it, making you feel like a couple of teens sneaking out for the first time.

He doesn’t give you a single minute to take notice of his room -- not that you would at this moment, your arousal pooling at your underwear only enhancing the haziness of your mind. In just a speck of a second, he’s already pushing the door closed, your body being pressed against it not long after. His arms find their place on each side of your head, his lips searching hungrily for yours as your fingers find their home between the strands of his hair once more. 

“Shit, need you so bad, baby.” he presses his hips against yours, mouth hot as he sucks in the skin of your jaw, all the way down your neck, finding a spot that makes you whine under his touch. “That’s it, darling, let me hear you again.”

“Harry,” you mewl as his teeth sink on your skin gently, his tongue swiping quickly over the spot before he trails back to your cheek. You melt under his touch when his hands find their way back on your body, one of them caressing the side of your breast softly, thumb poking out to rub the spot where you nipple pebbles under your layers of clothing. This brings out a desperate whimper from your throat, your head falling back on the door as you close your eyes, trying to savor every slight touch of his. “Please.”

“Look so fucking pretty in this piece, bunny.” The sound of his voice is right below your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin making the hairs on your neck rise. “Look gorgeous in anythin”” he turns his head to bite at your earlobe. “But I really need it gone right now.”

Your eyes snapback open when you feel him pull back from you, his hands finding the front buttons of your playsuit, fiddling them open so easily you barely register it. His lips are back on yours, this time slower, letting his desire be known at every brush of his tongue. Smoothing his hands on your shoulders, he helps you out of the sleeves of the top. As soon as your back is disconnected from the wooden door, you start moving forward before you can really think about it, pushing him back gently until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s sitting back on the bed.

There’s hardly a speck of green left on his darkened irises when he looks up at you, watching your every move as you shift the material down your body, letting it pool on your feet before you kick it to the side. Taking a slow step towards him, his hands holding onto your hips almost unconsciously, you reach back to find the hook of your bra, but he stops you before you can even quite grasp it. “Wait,” he pulls you closer, making you fall a bit awkwardly on his lap, your hands moving to grip on his shoulder for support. “Let me.”

You adjust your position on top of him, your knees resting next to his thighs, as he handily unhooks your bra, removing it quickly from your arms and tossing it to the side. A gasp escapes your mouth as he wastes no time before attaching his mouth to your breast, tongue circling on your nipple before sucking in. His hand tries to give the same attention to the other one, grasping onto it as his thumb caresses the pebbled nub.

The crescendo of the song comes muffled in the background and it’s as if it’s echoing inside your head while you mindlessly roll your hips against his. The motion makes the lining of his zipper rub deliciously against your clit under the thin fabric of your underwear, and it reminds you of his hardening length pressing on his jeans. It seems to remind him as well, as his mouth parts from your chest in a groan, his lips licking at the space between your breast, kissing all the way back to your neck, where he hides his face with a strangled moan when you grind down a bit harder.

“Can’t take the tease, baby.” He pants. “Need you right fucking now.”

You pull back from him, gazing down at the tent on his pants and bringing your hands to fiddle with his belt. It takes you a bit longer to manage to pull it out, as his eager lips attack your neck once again. At this point, you can only imagine the marks he’s made on your skin, knowing the reddened spots will soon come to a purple shade, but it’s the least of your worries as you pop the button of his jeans, opening up the zipper. 

“Stand up just for a sec, darling.” He taps on your hip and you do as he asks, stepping back to plant your feet on the floor.

He shifts out of his pants, bringing his briefs along with it and you watch the way his cock all but jumps out of its restrains, slapping back on his stomach. The tip is a reddened shade darker, a trace of precum already oozing out of it, dripping down his length and making you rub your thighs for some sort of relief as you feel your mouth watering. You want to reach for it, grasp it as you feel it throb on your palm. You want to trace the prominent veins adorning it with your tongue and discover all the sounds he makes when he’s all but begging for you to wrap you mouth around it already. But more than anything, and what speaks louder to you at the moment, is how you want to feel it deep in your belly, rubbing against your walls until your legs shake.

“My eyes are up here, love.” You look up at him, a smug grin on his face as he draws you in by your hips.

“Can’t help it.” You watch his fingers play with the waistband of your cherry colored underwear, meeting his eyes as you let yourself mess with him a bit. “Just have such a beautiful cock.”

“Christ.” He groans, yanking your panties down your leg, making your arousal drip down your thighs. His lips immediately trace on your pubic bone, hands travelling to grip on your ass as his teeth sink into your skin slowly. “Didn’t know you were this filthy, bunny.”

You enlace your fingers on his strands, pushing his fringe away from his forehead as you mount him again. “Only for you.”

“All for me? What did I do to deserve you?” He smiles, pecking your lips and pulling your closer so you can feel his cock poking at your stomach. “Why don’t you lie down for me?”

You shake your head, pushing his shoulders back gently until his back hits the mattress. “You lie down.”

“Shit, baby, gonna sit on my cock?” He shifts back just slightly, watching you sit back on his thigh as you grab his length, giving it an experimental pump that makes his breath audibly hitch. “Fuck-- such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You chew on your bottom lip, flickering your palm over the tip and collecting a bit of the precum before rubbing it once more. He lets out a strangled moan, head tilting back on the mattress, his curls splattered around him like a halo. Which is an ironical contrast to what you’re doing to him. 

His voice comes out in a breathy, chest moving frantically as he peeks down at you when you give him another slow pump. “Please, darling, don’t torture me right now, need you so bad.”

If it were another occasion you wouldn’t listen to him, simply continuing your teasing as if he hadn’t said anything at all. But right now you can feel your wetness pooling where you sit on his thigh as you all but throb for him at the sight of his angry cock in your hand. It’s just as much torture to you as it is to him to keep this going any longer, so you just shift up, gabbing his base and rubbing it along your folds one, two, three times, before finally aligning it with your entrance.

His nails dig on your thighs in anticipation, his eyes watching with barely a blink as you slowly sink down. Your mouth hangs open but nothing except a choked gasp comes out of it. There’s a delicious burn that comes with him slowly spreading you open for him, and when you fully sit down your eyes are teary and can’t help but clench around him, earning a full moan in response.

“So fucking tight.” He pants, chest moving up as he takes a sharp inhale when you clench again. “So wet too, baby, drenching me.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You lean forward, hands lying on each side of his torso as you pull up the tiniest bit just to sink down again.

You want to start slow, gradually fastening your pace but you can’t seem to hold yourself back. As his hands grasp on your hips you start to bounce on him at a hard pace, your moans meshing together as well as the faint vocals blasting outside the closed door. Rolling your hips on his, he hits spot that makes you sit on your heels again as you throw your head back, crying out his name. 

It’s hard to keep focus as you mind is blurry from the pleasure that takes over every cell of your body as well as the alcohol still running freely on your bloodstream. All you can focus on right now is Harry. It’s his hands gripping on your skin, helping you fasten your pace. It’s the sound of his voice pitching on a needy whimper, telling you how good you feel around him. It’s the sight of his face creased in pleasure when you look down at him, the veins staining his neck and his locks sticking to his damp forehead, cheeks rosy and lips plump. He’s the only thing in your mind as you chant his name under your breath like a quiet prayer.

“Is my cock that good, bunny?” He meets your thrusts with his hips, making you sob out a moan. His lips tug on a smirk, “Look at you helping you helping yourself out on my cock -- fuck, look like a proper dream.”

There’s a familiar tightness in your stomach, one that makes your toes curl and your rhythm falters. “I’m almost there, shit.”

“Won’t last much longer too, baby, feel too good.” He groans holding your hips in place when you stumble on your pace again, deciding to thrust upwards, your pelvis meeting in loud smacks. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me see you looking all pretty when you cum all over my cock?”

“Harry, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, your eyes closing as you roll back your head. A trifling cramp is starting to set on the back of your thighs but you barely pay any mind to it as the bliss takes over your whole body. You’re so close to your high you can almost reach it, just needing a small push.

“C’mon, baby.” Harry urges you, hand reaching where you’re connected to rub at your clit harshly.

And that’s all you needed, opening your eyes as a couple tears fall down your face when you feel your orgasm taking over you body, the white ceiling feeling far away like an imagine you watch on the television. You’re not exactly sure when Killer Queen started playing, but as the waves of euphoria hit your body, you can hear the guitar solo ringing in your ears, the crescendo of the song only enhancing the thrill of your high as you ride your orgasm along with it.

You practically collapse  down on his chest, his hot skin sticking to your body. He’s still panting under you, warm breath hitting your neck as he holds onto your ass, his thrusts coming sloppier as he comes right after you. The sensitivity of your center makes you whine along with his strangled moans when he holds his hips to yours,burying himself in you as he paints your walls white.

For a moment you just stay like this, cheek resting on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down by the minute blending with the music coming from outside the closed door. His fingertips trace patterns on your bare arm that’s hugging his torso and keeping him close. You can feel your mind getting clearer, not just from the alcohol but from the high of your orgasm. And as the sound of the soft wind knocks against the window glass, you’re almost lulled to sleep just like this. 

Harry shifts slightly, you feel his lips pressing on your head before he carefully moves to sit up, letting you fall back on the bed gently. “Mind if I have a smoke, bunny?”

You give him a lazy smile, shaking your head as you look up at him, reaching for his locks that poke wildly on his head. Leaning down, he gives you a quick peck before getting up. Turning to your side, you watch as he looks around the room, finding his briefs thrown by the end of the bed and quickly putting them back on. He grabs the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter and heads towards the window.

Opening up the window, allowing the evening breeze to slip through the crack and dance around the room, he pulls a chair leaning on the wall to sit directly by it. The chair is stacked with colored cushions on top of it - one yellow, one red, and one blue - he throws two of them thoughtlessly on the floor next to it, adjusting the remaining one on his back as he leans down to sit on it. The stool is low enough so he can relax his feet on it comfortably, fingers fiddling with the lighter for a second before rising it to meet the end of the cigarette resting between his lips. Freddie Mercury still sings loudly in the living room, the sound coming a bit muffled thanks to the closed door, but making it as background noise as you come quiet to admire his figure against the last creeks of sunlight hitting the side of his profile.

You chew on your lip at the scene, wishing you could record it somehow and play it every night before falling asleep. There’s something inherently erotic about having him smoke a cigar just on his underwear, humming along to the tune of the song, right after having you scream his name into his pillow. 

The light streak of wind coming from the window breaks you out of your thoughts, making goosebumps rise on your skin as you come to the realization that you’re still sitting naked in his bed. It doesn’t take long for you to find your panties hanging from the edge of the mattress, picking them up to quickly slide them up your legs before you get up to search for your other articles of clothing. You can see the colorful pattern of your playsuit lying next to the closed door, but as you crouch to pick it up something else catches your attention in the pile of clothes thrown around mindlessly on top of a wooden chest

It’s the pink shirt. The same one he wore on the day you first saw him play.

A grin takes over your face as you pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders and sliding your hand on the sleeves. It has the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of cigarettes, something you’ve come to associate with him. You don’t bother to button up the material, letting it hug your body as you take a quick look at yourself in the full-body mirror leaning on the wall in front of you. You turn to him, his eyes still focused on the view outside, a thin coat of smoke leaving his lips and getting lost in the breeze, so you clear your throat as to get his attention.

He looks at you, eyes shamelessly scanning down your body and you’re afraid the cig will fall from his lips as they grow on a smug smirk. 

“Look at you,” he lets his feet fall from the stool, fixing them on the floor as he motions for you to get close. You approach him without a second thought, climbing on his lap as his hands hold onto your hips. He takes another look at you, grasping the cigarette with his fingers and taking out of his lips. Reaching for your face, his thumb caresses the side of your eyelid gently. “Looking like a proper rockstar now, even got the smudged makeup.”

You giggle. “That’s more your fault than mine.”

“I guess it is.” He taps the butt of the cig on an ashtray prompted on the stool of the window, eyes still trained on you. “Should do it more often then, s’fucking hot.”

You smile at the connotation, picking at the hem of the shirt and gazing at him from under your lashes. “Guess I might be starting to like pink, that’s also your fault.”

“Look way too good in pink not to like it, bunny.”

“Stop that.” You hide your face on the crook of his shoulder.

“Telling the truth.” His free hand grips on your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head to kiss at your neck. “Looks good in everything.”

“Could tell you the same thing.” You pull back to look at him, teeth sinking on your bottom lip as you smooth your hands down his bare chest.  “But I do prefer this fit on you, really brings out your eyes.”

“Naughty.”

You lean to connect your lips, hugging him close with your arms wrapped around his neck and enjoying the tender moment as you distribute kisses around his face just to hear him giggle. And when you bring your mouth to his again, you barely feel the softness of his lips before he all but jumps on his skin. You pull back, furrowing your brows, ready to question it but he beats you. “Forgot I got something for you.”

“For me?” You blink. “What is it?”

“Go sit on the bed while I fetch, will be just a minute.” He gives you a quick peck before you’re pulling away.

You do as he asks, sitting back on the bed, right next to the wrinkled spot where you lied just  minutes ago. He walks across the room, opening the door where you came from and disappearing in the hallway. The record is still blasting through the apartment walls, sound coming louder now that there’s no barrier between you.

While he’s gone, you take a moment to look around his room, something you didn’t get a chance to do when you first came in tangled on his arms. It’s not much messier than the living room, really, only the small piles of clothes you’ve spotted earlier that give the illusion of an untidy room. There’s a light wooden dresser that sits next to the chest, and from where you sit you can see two candles standing alone on top of it, similar to the ones on the piano. 

You swing your feet on the edge of the bed, letting them brush along a blue fluffy mat that hugs the floor underneath it. And as you run your hands on along his mattress, you notice the soft superficie, making you look down at a knitted blanket spreaded across the bed. It’s made of different colored squared stuck together in an oddly comforting pattern. You want to lie down on it, and let yourself be swallowed by the cozyness of the material against your skin, but before you can do so, Harry appears back in the room, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to you.

“This blanket is so nice.” You run your hands through it, smiling at him.

“Thanks, I knitted it.” The information makes your eyes bulge out, you open your mouth to inquire further but he’s already talking again. “This is-- uhm, I dunno, just something I thought you’d like it.”

The small box in his hand catches your attention as he hands it to you, his eyes looking down at it and even with just the moonlight illuminating the room you can see the blush on his cheeks. He props himself down on the spot next to you, watching your fingers turn the rectangular box around. It’s a cassette tape case, you quickly realize.

When you gaze at the back of it, there’s names of songs scribbled behind it. Not many, but a good collection of them, from Fleetwood Mac to The Bangles, and even Billy Joel. And it doesn’t take you long to find a pattern with the song chosen for the tape. Their all love songs. It makes your heart swell even more, if that’s even possible at this point.

“These are so cheesy,” you bite your lip, barely able to contain your smile.

He rolls his eyes. “They’re romantic, bunny.”

You keep examining the titles written neatly in his handwriting, raising your brows when you land on a specific one. “Every breath you take?” You tease, “That’s an interesting take on romance.”

“Shut up.” He giggles, eyes watching you carefully. “Do you like it?” His voice is adorably hesitant, it makes your heart stumble on a beat.

“I love it.” You say in just above a whisper, feeling the butterflies in your stomach get a little more vivid once your eyes land on the last song scribbled in the back of the tape. Somebody to Love. Brushing your thumb over the words softly, careful not to smudge the paint, you look up at him to find his green irises glistening at you. You shake your head almost in disbelief at the tenderness behind the gift. “Did you record this just for me?”

“Uhm yeah some of them I did but—” He looks down, focusing on his fingers as they pick a loose string from the blanket under his leg. “Some of them I just... Sang”

“You sang?” It takes you by surprise, how you thought there was no way he could make you feel warmer.

“Yeah… All of them, actually.” His dimples dig deep on his cheeks as he quickly peeks his eyes at you. “It’s just… The quality is shit when you record it from the radio and the dj keeps interrupting and stuff.” He shrugs, “Thought if I sang it could be more, personal? I guess.”

“I love it.” You repeat.

“You do?” 

“I do.” You chew on your lip, watching his eyes glimmering on the dim light of the room. “Is there a reason for this sudden present?”

“Kind of I--” He clears his throat, fully glancing at you. There’s an expectation behind his eyes, you can tell from the way he takes a sharp inhale that he’s nervous. “Thought I make you-- ask you, actually, if you’d be mine?”

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable he looks, your eyes getting a bit glossy as you nod without a blink of a thought. “Of course I’m yours, Harry.”

“Yeah?” His smile grows. “As like, m’girlfriend?”

Throwing your arms around him, you press your lips against his cheek, careful not to drop the tape in your hand still. You pull back, tilting your head as giving him a fond smile. “As in your girlfriend, yes.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #80s!harry #harry styles writing

[issaxcharlie]

We say we're friends, we play pretend (2/2 )You're more to me, we're everything

PART 1 HERE

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem reader

Summary: Charlie and Y/N were best friends and a couple as teens, after their breakup they meet again 4 years later on JATP and have to work together. Will they be able to recover more than their friendship?

If Charlie knew anything in life, it was that he had to take things carefully. Especially with such strong feelings involved. In general, when you like someone, the least you want is for that person to see you as a friend, but particularly for them, recovering their friendship bond was the most important step.

“You were so cute!” Tori and Owen are looking at photos of the guitarist's childhood on his phone. A photo of little Charlie in a suit grinning from ear to ear while holding a girl as if he is spinning her around shows up.

That memory is one of his favorites. He was always a very loved boy with many friends, but in the case of girls he was not the most popular. His best friend on the other hand was, at least for him, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and boys were always around her. He knew he needed to find a partner for the dance so that she wouldn't feel guilty or he wouldn't feel humiliated by not having someone to go with.

However, he was rejected, quite a few times. He didn’t want to say anything about the dance to his best friend that week because he knew that she would stay home with him without hesitation. But that day half an hour before, he arrived in a suit and flowers for her, so at least he could have a picture of such an important moment with the person he loves the most, and he was the one surprised.

“It was about time Char, we have to take about 30 pictures before we go. Mom bought you a tie so we can match." She is up and down looking for one of her shoes, not even turning to see her friend who doesn’t know if he understood correctly.

At that moment she finally turns to see him and runs for a hug, Charlie barely had time to raise his arm with the flowers.

“You look so handsome, and the flowers are perfect. Best partner ever, I love you so much C! I’ll be ready in a second.”

She had planned to go with him from the beginning, and thought it was an implicit pact. That realization made Charlie's heart beat a lot faster that day. No matter how many people invited her, she wanted to go with him. He spent the night with his favorite person dancing and singing, feeling grateful for her, this light who always chooses him of all people.

“I looked pretty good in those clothes.” Y/N says as she and Madison sit at the table.

“You always look amazing, but yeah that night was special.” It's also the night that he realized that he was feeling more than friendship for his best friend, but this is not the time to talk about it.

He decides to continue preparing his waffles, than even though it already has like 5 ingredients, it seems something is missing.

Y/N blushes a little and smiles. “Here, handsome.” She hands him a can of pringles that she grabbed from the cafeteria when she saw him making eggo’s.

“Perfect, Y/N Y/L teaching everyone why she's my soulmate.” Everyone at the table begins to complain about what they qualify as the most disgusting thing they have ever seen, while the former couple smiles happily as they secretly link their legs under the table and continue their breakfast.

Little details like that one, or as removing all the products that she would take with milk from her hands because she seems to forget every morning that she is allergic can make a difference.

“You are 22 years old and you are still as careless as when we were children, I do not understand how you have survived these 4 years."

“You were always the one who cared about it and kept me safe, I guess unconsciously having you close my brain says, ‘no worries, Char will take care of it.’ So I’m sorry, I'll be more careful.”

A seriously ill 10-year Y/N on the way to the hospital invaded Charlie's mind, whom quickly shook off the bad memory.

“It’s all good, bright star.”

“What did you say?” Madison asks.

“Bright star. I know Kenny calls her ‘golden star’, but he’s the copycat. I've been calling her like that all my life.”

Y/N just smiles, enjoying the moment. She had not heard those words from his lips for years, and honestly Kenny also calling her a star even If it was sweet, made her remember Charles practically every day, and that didn’t help at all to get over the guitarist.

“You are my brightest burning star.” Madison replies, looking at Charlie with amusement in her eyes.

At that moment the actor understands what is going through his co-star's head and panics.

“So this queen is the one who has you so inspired, I should have realized it before.”

“She’s always my inspiration, period.” Y/N starts to laugh while blushing, and Madison’s attention falls completely on her.

“And I guess ‘Bright’ is a coincidence? And rise through the night, you and I, We will fight to shine together...Bright forever.” The songwriter wants to disappear at that precise moment while everyone turns to see her as if she had a third eye on her forehead.

“But you wrote bright long before you even knew Charlie was part of the proyect.” Owen adds, smirking.

“If you are asking me if I draw inspiration from the people I love, to write... the answer is yes. And yes, of course I love him.” How is it possible for the guitarist to slow things down when she says things like that in front of everyone? All he wants right now is to kiss her. This discovery means that despite the time she still had him in mind, the song cannot have been written for long. Hope is flooding his body.

“Ok but they inspiring each other is the sweetest thing in the world, goals right there.” Tori adds excited, her friends blushing.

All those teasing moments helped them to be more transparent with their feelings, hugging, touching, and basically staying close each time they finished their work obligations, almost as if they were afraid that the other would disappear or as if they were trying to make up for lost time.

“We need a lot more energy, especially from Charlie. Luke lives for music, nothing can give him more joy than being on stage."

"They have been working for 17 hours straight and at least 15 attempts with this musical." Paul tries to reason with Kenny mid-recording of Now or Never, which still does not come out as the director was expecting.

“What was in the recording studio that is not here now? I thought they would show an even greater energy than there after they stepped on stage."

They both turn to each other, as if the light had been turned on at the same time, and Paul takes his phone.

A few minutes later Y/N walks on set, Sunset Curve smiles upon seeing her.

“I wanted to make sure that we are fulfilling the vision of our beloved songwriter. Let's not disappoint her, okay? Let's try it one more time." Kenny shouts before starting to record again.

Instantly the energy is seen a thousand times higher, Charlie more radiant than ever, while Y/N replicates his energy behind the cameras, flooding him with sass and attitude. The young singer also motivates her now friends and unknowingly gave Sunset Curve that extra thing they needed to finally achieve the perfect performance. Kenny and Paul doing a fist bump behind the screens.

Soon their chemistry and energy turned into open conversation. The way they made everyone on set cry the first time they practiced Unsaid Emily or how connected and dreamy they were while dancing to Perfect Harmony when Madison wasn't on set.

But they still weren’t together, at least officialy.

If Charlie was honest, the fear of throwing himself all over and losing her again terrified him. The industry they love so much and decided to work in doesn't let having a relationship be easy, and if things go wrong again, they don't know if it might be possible to fix it again. It was basically a leap of faith.

Nonetheless, he knows he's willing, but what about her?

That morning he enters the set overwhelmed with his situation when he sees an even more overwhelmed Y/N walk by without even turning around, almost running to the recording studio.

“I advise you to give her some space for a few hours. Let's say she’s going to have a pretty difficult day."

"Why? What happened?" Jeremy asks as he and Owen stand next to the director.

“She got a call from the people at Netflix, they have already approved almost all the music except ‘Stand Tall’, the closing song, and her favorite. They will come in an hour to hear her presentation and convince them that it is good enough."

At that moment Charlie has an idea. There is no way that he will leave her alone, if he has the opportunity to help her he will do it and he’ll drag along all the people he needs to achieve it.

"Kenny, do you happen to have the music sheets for the song?"

“Don’t tell me-” Owen tries to ask but Charlie interrumpts him.

“Yes, let’s get to work boys.”

An hour later Y/N is freaking out, and she can't help but wish Charlie was around. Of all the days he could choose to disappear, he chose today.

She walks towards the auditorium, where to her surprise way more people than she expected are present, including most of the cast. But there is no sign of her lover boy anywhere.

Now or never. She takes a deep breath and start playing the keyboard. Her voice is the only thing that accompanies the keys. Everything is going as planned, but she can't help but feel distracted, nervous, and overwhelmed.

She is about to give up this fight internally when a drum before the second verse gives her the strength to continue singing, Owen smiles and winks at her to give her some peace of mind, and just a few seconds later Jeremy begins to accompany them with the bass. She knows whose idea it is and she just waits for him to come out from wherever he is hidden.

"I’m going out of my mind, Whatever happens, even if I'm the last standing I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall." His voice finishes waking her up and she accompanies him in the chorus, their chemistry electrifying everyone until every single person is standing, the cast supporting, dancing and clapping while the couple continues to focus on each other, separating out of obligation every so often but taking the opportunity to sing along with Jeremy and Owen who were doing an amazing job too, impacting with their solos.

The song ends and the boys disappear while Y/N talks to the people who came to evaluate her work, who finally approve the last song on the soundtrack that she has been working on for so long and to which she put all her soul.

The very second people outside the cast leave, Y/N looks for who has always been the boy of her life, the one who has proven that even though the years go by, they only need a few seconds to be themselves again, to be everything again. And as soon as she finds him hanging around only with the other 3 members of JATP she runs and jumps on him, entwining her legs at his hips and hugging him from the neck with all her strength, he immediately secures her by putting his arms around her waist.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The band starts screaming “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” hoping that one of the two will already dare to take the next step, and Y/N stamps her lips against Charlie's, who reacts almost automatically and kisses her back hard, deciding quickly this is the happiest moment of his life. He finally got the girl, or with what just happened, her fierce girl got him.

Hours later both are in Y/N's apartment curled up on a sofa, enjoying being together again.

“Yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.”

Charlie chuckles at her random declaration. “What was that?”

“I’m practicing, and I wanted to say it aloud. I’m just so happy right now.”

His heart melts, she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His brightest burning star.

His girlfriend doesn't give him time to reply, devouring his lips again. After all, she has four years to recover, and as always, he is more than willing to help her.

Thank you so much for reading!

NEXT PART HERE

Tag list:

@siennanoelle01

@reblogserpent

@kiss-themoongoodbye

@writerinlearning

@rachelle3musicals

#jatp luke #luke patterson fanfiction #luke x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #jatp imagine #charlie gillespie

[outivv]

So I wondering if I could have headcannon's for a Kaeya x Reader.

Specifically in Jean's chapter, when an abyss mage was sent to kill her. This prompt assumes two things; A. Kaeya sent the mage, and B. he was monitoring from a distance.

While the mage was supposed to go for Jean, it also for the reader. Promptly he's forced to chew out and/or dispose of the mage, thus revealing his true loyalties.

I'd imagine the reader would be conflicted to say the least. Not to mention Jean. Naturally this is slightly angsty. so handle it how you wish.

Thanks for your time!

Synopsis: when the abyss mage was sent (by kaeya) to kill Jean they attack the reader as well, causing kaeya to intervene.

Warnings: spoilers for jeans story quest, angst that kinda has a cliffhanger/ no distinct happy ending, minor mentions of death, and mentions of crying... So there’s a lot.

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Background information: the reader is friends with Jean, and has an established relationship with kaeya.

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: oh my god... I was so excited to get this request! I love the idea of villain kaeya, and I’ve been wanting to write some angst for a while. So this is just *mwah* amazing idea! I hope you enjoy because I really like this one, and have an amazing day/afternoon/ night! (Also I just realized this isn’t headcanons and it’s a fic sorry!!!)

“I think the title of dandelion knight suits you better.” You said with a considerate smile towards Jean. You’ve known her for years, and in a time where she was ill you felt the need to reassure her, and take some weight of all the work she had off her shoulders. Her eyes turned glossy looking at her friend who she’s known for quite some time. You could tell that your words really hit her deep, and she took them to heart.

The wind blew the leaves of “the symbol of vannessa” tree as Jean spoke, “Thank you...” Her eyes met yours for a moment before looking to what appears to be over your shoulder. He face turned to one of anger, as she spoke “who’s there.” Her voice sharp. Suddenly a pyro abyss mage came out of the bushes saying “hmph caught red-handed” its voice sent shivers down your spine “finally when I have a opportunity to be rid of the master in a moment of weakness” it turned to you “you two show up to ruin things.”

“What?! How’d they know about Jeans condition?!” Paimon spoke concern and shock in their voice. The abyss mage seemed to contemplate for a moment before saying, “hmm, well since I have you both here might as well use this opportunity to the fullest.” They said before attacking both you and Jean.

Sudden bursts of fire tried to strike you and Jean, but missing by hair. Suddenly someone jumped down from the tree striking the abyss mage. You looked over from Jean to see kaeya. What was he doing here? Why was he in the tree? Why was he watching you. You had so many questions.

“Kaeya... what the hell are you doing here?!” You said your voice shaky from the sheer amounts of adrenaline running through your veins. “I... um...” Kaeya said unsure of what words he would, or better yet should say next. The abyss mage spoke, on the brink of death “why would you stop me?! You were the one who wanted to take the risk and end the acting grand master now!”

Your face turned pale, and to one of shock. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Kaeya... the man you’ve known forever... the man that you’ve fallen in love with, and have been in a relationship with for so long... tried to kill your best friend... or made someone else kill her. Made someone else do his dirty work. “You... you what.” You said your voice small, yet sharp.

“No... they... it... no. I wouldn’t do that. You know I respect Jean, and I love you why would I want to kill either of you?” Kaeya said trying to save himself, and come up with an excuse. Now that you think about it... how much do you really know about kaeya? Where is he from? How’d he get his vision? Why has he never talked about his past.

“Why would an abyss mage know you.” You said sharply your eyes shooting daggers at the man you love. Jean finally spoke up, “Kaeya. As acting grand master I demand that you explain what is going on, and what your affiliation is with this abyss mage.” Her voice was as sharp as yours and she had a sudden intimating aura to her.

Kaeya confessed. There was no way back now. Once he explained everything, tears stating to roll down your face. For you had to choose between the two people you loved most. Better yet, you had to choose between an entire nation that is thriving, and that you’ve spent your whole life in. And another that was robbed of everything that they ever had, ever dreamed of.

“I... I don’t know what to say... I... I need some time.” You said excusing yourself. When you were trying to leave you felt a hand grab your wrist, and when you turned around kaeya was looking at you scared, and hopeless. “Please... let me explain myself.” He spoke his voice soft and shaky. He took your hand in his and brought it up to kiss. “Please...” he spoke, now more hopeful.

“You don’t need to explain. I just want to be alone, and think.” You said on the brink of tears. You brought your hand back to your side and walked back to mondstadt. When you arrived home you felt as though you wanted to cry, and scream at kaeya. But you still loved him. But you loved mondstadt. You loved your job, you loved your friends, you loved the singing of bards from all across teyvat as you walked down the streets of mondstadt. But if felt wrong to love it all.

It felt wrong because a nation was robbed of that. People were robbed of all of that. All of the things that could’ve been. And now that was all put on kaeyas shoulders. You stayed awake contemplating what you should choose, who you should choose.

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin headers #genshin kaeya #kaeya headers #kaeya drabble #kaeya headcanons #kaeya imagines #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #kaeya x traveler #kaeya x lumine #kaeya x aether #Kaeya theory #kaeya angst #jean angst #genshin jean #genshin angst #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines #genshin fic

[alch3mic]

Could. Could I request SOFT TM SWAPAROO!BEAST/KING FLUFF??? aa??

The job you had was rather... peculiar one.

It certainly wasn’t the strangest job you’ve ever had in this crazy city, not by a long shot, but it was perhaps the most interesting you've had yet.

You were a personal maid.

That in itself was a pretty ordinary job title, which is why you didn't hesitate to apply for the job when you saw it online one day.

It was described simply as a live-in kind of gig with some rather long hours attached and a rather strange set of requirements, but the pay was way too good for you to pass up.

So you applied.

You were met the very next morning with a very strange phone call from a very callous individual who asked you some very bizarre questions.

The kind of questions you very much never asked for a job interview.

...Which made the whole thing seem very suspicious to you.

Still the money was very tempting so you decided to... very much continue with the job application anyways.

After what felt like more of an interrogation than a proper interview, the voice on the phone had told you to come down to the 'estate' for a face to face, and from there they would decide if you really got the job or not.

At this point you had expected a couple of things.

Like, maybe this was just some kind of prank and you'd show up to an empty lot, or... maybe it was a really elaborate ruse to rope you into some kinda weird pyramid scheme?

Wouldn't have been the first time that kinda stuff happened with all the different jobs you've applied to over the years.

Well, what you hadn't expected was to show up to the most ominous looking mansions you could've ever imagined; complete with deep dark colors, thorny rose bushes and several tacky gothic ornaments that made the whole thing look like it popped straight out of a storybook for a villain.

To top the whole affair off you met the owner of said villainous mansion; one very tall, very intimidating skeleton, who held the same callous tone as the one who spoke to you over the phone.

...A Fell...

And that's when your heart sank.

Seems like your bad feeling was right.

.......Until it wasn't.

The exchange you ended up having with him was actually rather pleasant, and he seemed to warm up to you rather quickly when you made an unexpected friend out of his cat. His sour expression ended up turning.. well.. less sour at the very least, and from there the two of you really seemed to hit it off.

Your job, as he described, would be easy.

Take care of his recluse brother.

......And that was it...?

Alright, you said.

And really, that was it.

You were given a rather cool looking (although also kinda tacky) uniform which completely matched the whole dark and gothic interior of the house, a tour of the place, and a small list of duties you were expected to perform daily along with anything else his brother asked of you.

Anything else, Papyrus took care of.

Cool.

Great.

Stellar, really.

What your new boss failed to mention was how much of a recluse his brother really was.

Like, the guy didn't even leave his room the first few days you were there.

You exchanged very few words with him through a large set of double doors on occasion, and you eventually managed to work out a bit of a schedule where he'd leave his room for a few hours and you'd tidy his space up.

You still ended up never seeing him.

He'd always miraculously disappear before you came in, even the few times you'd shown up just a few minutes early in hopes that'd you catch a glimpse of this guy.

But, no luck.

The whole affair just left you feeling rather curious about who exactly it was you were taking care of. You could tell from picking up his room that he was tall, much like his brother, but also kinda wide.

Built more like a square than a rectangle.

You could also tell he had a variety of interests from the books always messily littering his room. Anything from astronomy to zoology, all of the pages meticulous marked with sticky notes and papers with hastily scribbled notes on them. There was also an assortment of crafty things, like fabrics and chains always hastily thrown together on a desk that he apparently used to make things, such as outfits for himself.

It was cute, in a way.

He even eventually made something for you.

A gold bracelet, decorated with most delicate porcelain red roses who's petals were also trimmed in gold.

A thank you, he said, for taking care of him... and for filling the halls of this home with your singing.

You absolutely adored it, which is why it made you all the more determined to finally meet with him face to face.

Of course though, just like with everything else in your life, none of your plans ever worked out. Every opportunity to catch a peek at him was missed, even on the days where you would slide him things like meals through his door. He was always shadowed by the light in his room, so you could never see his face, and he always closed the door so quickly so your eyes could never adjust.

It was.. a little frustrating but, really it wasn't your place to push why he hid away.

You did happen to ask Papyrus one day when you were helping him tend to the rose bushes, but he all he told you was that his brother was shy around other people.

...Shy your fuckin' ass.

Sure, he was sweet. You could tell that from not only the gift he gave you, but also from the extended conversations you'd have with him on the other side of the door. He was a bit quiet in your first few exchanges but eventually warmed up a lot more to you the more you tried to strike up friendly conversations. He ended up becoming a little more cheeky, and seemed to have a certain skill for making you bust your butt laughing with his otherwise raunchy humor.

Really.. with that kind of smoother talker personality you really had to wonder what he went through to make him so cautious around others.

But.. again it just wasn't your place to ask.

You were here to make a paycheck, not invest yourself into the problems and lives of others... despite how much you enjoyed working for your employers.

Both of the brothers ended up treating you very well.

You were paid handsomely and never felt yourself being overworked. They never asked anything outrageous of you, gave you a rather lovely living quarters all to yourself on the estate grounds and even gave you adequate days off.

The whole thing almost really felt like some kind of fairy tale.

So here you were again, living in a small piece of your own world as you wandered the halls of the estate in the late hour, technically past your shift.

The rain pitter pattered against the window as you traveled with a laundry basket in hand, your last chore for the day. It had taken a while to dry thanks to the damp weather, and even though you were technically due to be off you wanted to have this finished before retiring for the evening.

Just needed to drop it off in front of Sans' room and away you'd g-

"mrow?"

You inhaled quickly at the sound, jumping a bit before turning back to look down the hall at a familiar white cat in the distance.

"Oh stars above, it's just you Doomy," you breathed out, placing a hand to your chest.

The cat meowed again as it trotted closer to you, so you carefully set down the laundry basket to scoop up the white cat in your arms.

"You scared the hell out of me! Didn't Papyrus ever teach you it's bad manners to sneak up on others you silly little cat?" you whispered softly as she purred in your arms.

Oh you could never stay mad at Doomfanger for too long.

She was just too cute, and always liked to keep you company on nights like this when Papyrus had to attend to business in town. Certainly made you feel a lot less lonely, even though you knew someone else was technically in this house too-

CREAK.

You froze again, hearing nothing but silence until the floors creak again underneath someone's footstep.

Then another.

And another.

Closer and closer.

......

Alright well you were armed with nothing but your two fists, some laundry and a cat, but Papyrus had left the whole estate in your care tonight and you would be damned before you disappointed him!

So, you turned confidently to face whoever was stalking these halls before being met with...

"...Sans?"

You're not exactly sure what compelled you to call out his name, considering whoever you were looking at had a blanket covering their shoulders and head, but apparently your guess was right as he froze on the spot.

"...Jeez, both you and Doomfanger are apparently determined to scare me out of my wits tonight," you finally sighed, letting the cat go as she gracefully landed and sauntered her way over to Sans before rubbing up on to his leg.

He still seemed frozen in place, his head tilted ever so slightly in your direction but the blanket he wore over his head still casted him into shadows thanks to the dim lighting of the halls. The only thing you could properly see were a pair of eyelights burrowing into you, one red and one white.

"Is.. everything ok?" you asked, picking up the laundry basket and carefully approaching closer.

Clearly it wasn't considering he was out of his room when you were here but...

"....left.."

"Huh?" you asked, still trying to at least keep some respectable distance between you both but also taking a step in to catch what he was saying.

"i...i-i thought you.. already.. so i......... snack..."

He was fumbling with his words, seeming to shrink in a bit on himself almost in fear or some kind of embarrassment.

"Oh! No, sorry!" you explained with a quick wave of your hand. "I just had this last load to finish but it took forever to dry so I stuck around a little longer to get it done!"

You did your best to smile warmly at him, which you hoped would ease a bit of the tension he was holding, but it didn't.

Instead he became... really...

Red.

Very, very red in fact.

So much so that it actually lit up his face, and for once you could actually see him as he stared back at you, seeming transfixed upon your features. There were harsh cracks and scratches splintered over his face, and just the faintest hint of gold where a tooth would have been.

"...Huh.."

Your words seemed to snap him out of whatever kind of trance he was in and he quickly covered his face with a clawed hand.

"n-no! this...! i.. didn't...! mean to... scare..."

He seemed to be scrambling for words again, but you were still dazzled by what you just saw, unable to keep the sparkle down in your own eyes.

"You've...."

He continued to cover his face with his other hand.

"......got some crumbs on your face."

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

He carefully peeked at you between his claws, that red eyelight of his slightly enlarged and looking.. incredibly confused.

"Here," you said, tapping your own cheek.

Sans seemed to pause again, carefully removing once of his hands to rather quickly wipe his face.

"Nope, other one!" you giggled, unable to resist the smile climbing over your face once again.

Another attempt and another miss.

You could feel his eyelight bore into you some more when you laughed a bit more loudly this time, shaking your head and setting down the laundry basket once more.

"Oh my gosh, just..! C'mere!" you finally said, taking a few more steps while pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket.

He stared again for a few more moments, hesitating only slightly before carefully bending down to your level and slowly moving his hands from his face.

You lightly placed a hand on one of his rather tense cheeks before gently wiping the other, making note of the kind of crumbs he still had clinging to his face thanks to the red glow that still illuminated his cheekbones.

Slowly you felt the tension he held melt away and soon enough it felt like he was resting his head in the palm of his hand while a gentle rumbling noise made itself present to your ears.

"....Did you eat the last of the cookies?" you asked, glancing back up him only to see him quickly look away from you.

".........maybe," he said softly, letting out a small gruff laugh.

"Ooooh, Papyrus is going to have an absolute fit when he gets back," you snickered.

"...yeah i know..s'fine," he mumbled softly. "..just gonna blame it on you."

"Hey!!"

"...or doomfanger.."

"Oh my stars, do not blame the cat you goober!"

"what? i'm pretty sure you'd both get in less trouble than i would!"

"That's not the point you jerk, haha!"

"..heh.."

Yeah.. this... really was quite the peculiar job, wasn't it?

Strangely though, you liked it.

A lot.

Especially now that you got to see just how cute the skeleton beyond the door really was.

check out my other writings | feel free to drop me a ko-fi!

#why did this become so long? #because i just love setting up a premise and building a world for a story #I CANNOT HELP MYSELF OK #so please take this drabble #of our beastly king and his hard working beauty #he shy ok #beast!sans #underfell #underfell sans #sans x reader #reader insert #drabble #swaparoo!au #alch!writes

[we-love-imagines]

Hi! Can you do a one shot college au Jotaro x reader? The idea is: all Joestars are brothers and they create a playlist for Jotaro that he'll have to make the reader listen to as a way to confess. All the songs are romantic, except the last one which is an addition from Joseph, Josuke and Jolyne and which would be "E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE", just to embarrass him in front of the reader and also to make a funny moment lolol You are a very talented writer! I'm happy that I found you on tumblr:D

This anon has my heart, you’re so sweet!!! I’m so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing and lots of fluff!

I Should Have Never Asked For Help

It is a well-known fact among the Joestars that Jotaro is bad with words. Comically so. The only way he’d ever say “I love you,” to the rest of them would be through gritted teeth, pulling his signature black cap over his eyes. They loved him all the same, knowing how he cared for his family deep down, but they all acknowledged how affection was never his strong-suit.

That’s why when Joseph claimed Jotaro had the hots for someone, nobody believed him. Joseph and Jotaro shared a math class at university, and Joseph was picking up on the lingering stares he sent your way during lectures. When you started a study group before finals, he was the first to sign up. Joseph was taken aback when you greeted Jotaro before class, and he didn’t tell you to fuck off. He knew something was up with his little brother, and having no respect for boundaries, he couldn’t help but tease.

Usually huffing in response, Jotaro would brush off his older brother’s teasing. While he did feel something towards you, he certainly didn’t have the means to act on it. Jotaro wasn’t entirely used to the feeling, and he was happy with how things were. As Joseph’s teasing grew more bold and incessant, making kissy faces whenever you were around, Jotaro started to get pissy. Even the lightest of teasing while you were nearby really pushed Jotaro’s buttons.

One day, when Joseph made a comment about catching Jotaro staring at you while you were within earshot, it all boiled over. Jotaro ushered his brother away from you, hiding his blushing face under his hat as he finally admitted to Joseph that he did have a thing for you. Ecstatic, Joseph insisted Jotaro ask you out. Jotaro had thought about it, for sure, but he admitted to his brother he didn’t know how. While girls tended to gravitate towards Jotaro in highschool, he’d never asked anyone out on a proper date before.

Thinking back on how he won Suzie Q over with a mixtape, Joseph got an idea to help his brother. When the pair got home, Joseph pulled out his phone and asked each Joestar sibling their favorite love song, hoping someone’s music taste would overlap with yours. There was a good variety in there, too; some slow, sweet songs picked out by Jonathan and Giorno, some light pop picked out by Josuke, and some fun additions from Jolyne and Joseph himself.

When Jolyne asked what this was for, Joseph confided with her that this was to help Jotaro ask someone out. A mischievous glint appeared in her eye, never missing an opportunity to mess with her older brother. Being pretty active online, Jolyne had become very familiar with Corpse Husband and the millions of fangirls raving about him 24/7, and she’d heard his signature song a handful of times. The edgy, deep-voiced Internet personality kind of reminded her of her brother, so she couldn’t resist pulling his leg a little bit.

Getting a notification on his phone, Jotaro saw that Joseph had sent him the completed playlist. He let out a deep sigh, too nervous to look at the songs they had picked out, and even more nervous to show them to you. Trusting his siblings, just this once, he put his phone down and went to bed.

~

The next day, Jotaro got up early to meet with you before classes started. He took extra care to get himself ready, brushing his teeth for an extra few seconds and applying slightly more cologne than usual. He was nervous beyond belief, leaving the house without a word to an excited Joseph to find you.

You usually met him inside the library, which housed your study room, but he was surprised to see you standing outside the building. Smiling and waving as you saw him, you motioned for him to follow you inside. Had you been waiting for him?

“How are you, Jojo?” you hum, making your way into the study room and taking your normal seat at the table. Jotaro made a huffing noise and shrugged in response. Warm, morning sunlight poured into the room as you pulled the textbooks from your bag, quickly glancing at your phone to see the other few members of your group couldn’t make it today.

“Looks like it’s just us today,” you sigh to him, opening up your textbook to the bookmarked page, “We left off here last time-”

“-Wait, before we start,” he cut you off, capturing your attention as you readied your materials, “You’re into music, right?”

You chuckled lightly in response, “Who isn’t?”

He gulped, pulling his phone from his pocket as he fiddled around to find where he had saved the playlist. Thank god he had a good poker face, his body a bundle of nerves as he hoped it didn’t show. His only tell were the few beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he turned to face you, showing you his device.

“I made you a playlist,” he stated in almost monotone, trying to hide how his cheeks pinked when your smile widened at his words. Truly taken aback, you couldn’t hide your own blush as you took the phone from his hands, adjusting the screen to see it better in the morning light. The playlist was titled simply, ‘For (y/n)’, but it still made your heart flutter.

“Thank you Jotaro, this is really sweet!” You chime at him, Jotaro only nodding in response, “May I play it?”

Jotaro gulped again. This was it.

“You may.”

You hit play, placing the phone on the table as you quietly thanked Jotaro once again. Slow notes began playing, Jotaro’s nervous ticks showing more, his foot anxiously tapping against the carpet. This song was a cheesy classic, surely a pick by Jonathan: Elvis’s I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You. It was a little on-the-nose for his taste, but he watched as you got an excited glint in your eyes as you recognized the first few bars.

“I love this song!” you chirp, happily grooving along as you begin moving your attention back to your textbook. He nervously wondered if the meaning of the playlist was lost on you. It released the tension in his body, the thought of rejection flying out the window, but he was left with a bit of disappointment in his gut. Ideally, you would have caught on and returned his affections, but that gratification would never come.

You continued to enjoy the music as you worked, quietly singing along as you two quizzed each other on the various concepts. You enjoyed the varied music, some songs slower and others more upbeat. As you continued to listen, you paid more attention to the words- were these songs all romantic?

“I didn’t take you for a sap, Jojo,” you jested, “These are all pretty lovey-dovey!”

“-That’s the point.”

He was surprised with his own boldness, all his nerves returning as he saw your eyes go wide in realization. Quickly going tomato red, your heart thumped in your chest as you put it together that Jotaro was asking you out. While you had developed a little crush on him yourself, you never thought he would ever reciprocate your feelings, let alone make the first move.

“Oh!” you shakily breathe, “This is- wow, this is out of left field!”

“Is this weird?” he hesitantly asked, letting slip a little anxiousness in his voice. Touching his hand, you reach out to him.

“Oh no no no-” you hurriedly reassure, “No! I really like it, Jojo!”

You take a deep breath as you finish your thought.

“I really like you, Jojo!”

With that, he lets slip a breathy sigh from his lips, giving you a rare smile as he reciprocates your touch. He places his thumb over the back of your palm, rubbing a little circle on it as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“That’s a relief,” he jokingly murmured, sharing a little laugh with you as the song that was playing ended. You both were caught off guard as a new, louder song filled the room.

CHOKE ME LIKE YOU HATE ME BUT YOU LOVE ME-

Immediately he went red again, whispering his annoyed catchphrase to himself as he put his hand to his cap. You couldn’t hold your laughter as the filthy Corpse song filled your ears.

“Now this is more your style!” you tease him, nudging him lightly.

“I didn’t make it alone,” he confesses, giving you a small smile as the shock wore off, “But this is the last time I ask for help.”

I Hope you enjoyed! I also made a playlist based off this fic for my sweet anon:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06A7aN1LtLYWCDNQs04rGa?si=sYaMp0B4RWK3N3zc62gZow

#jjba x reader #jjba #Jotaro x reader #Jotaro kujo x reader #joestar siblings au #inbox is open! #inbox reply #corpse

[catradoramma]

how about a fic of Adora noticing being the jealous one after noticing other women give Catra attention.

i have been getting prompts like this since Mine, and honestly, hell yea. i deadass started working on this in 2019 and well. its finally finished. this is who i am folks. thanks so much to @kittens-and-foxes, @magicchalkdust, and lunatica (ao3) for the prompts! prompts are still open! i’m just a slave to writers block. evidently

Oh, How the Turntables

|  Rated: T  |  Words: 2,604  |  Chapter: 1/1  |

Adora was not a jealous person. She was confident with where she was in her life and always had been. Trying her best and being proud of that was something that was basically sewn into her DNA.

Adora was not jealous. Never had been, and never would be.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was just…a little upset.

Or how Adora handles being jealous. A significantly less fun sequel to Mine. 

| ao3 | buy me a kofi |

Adora was not a jealous person. She was confident with where she was in her life and always had been. Trying her best and being proud of that was something that was basically sewn into her DNA.

Adora was not jealous. Never had been, and never would be.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was just…a little upset.

It wasn’t really that big of a deal. Honestly it wasn’t a big deal at all. In fact it wasn’t even a deal at all. Catra was just making friends. Which Adora, for the record, was extremely happy about.

Catra was making friends with some of the people in the Royal Guard at Bright Moon and it was awesome! People were accepting her! And, like, treating her with respect like she obviously deserves as a literal war hero! So naturally, Adora was happy to hear this. Adora was enthused!

Obviously, okay?

It’s just that Catra had recently become closer with a few of her friends in the Royal Guard which meant they were out all day training and running drills, and then out all night getting drinks and singing bar shanties or whatever soldiers did together. Adora was so glad that Catra was fitting in and being accepted. That goes without saying.

But.

Adora also really, really, really missed her girlfriend.

Like.

Adora missed her a lot.

As simple as that.

Although, it didn’t help that one of Catra’s new friends was the totally smart, pretty and badass Captain Kassandra. And it also didn’t help that Captain Kassandra was definitely Catra’s best friend in the guard which meant Catra and Captain Kassandra were spending the majority of their days together.

Alone.

And it’s not like Adora thought anything would happen! Catra would never cheat, okay? She wouldn’t! She just might...you know. Realize that Captain Kassandra was so, so much better, and smarter, and stronger, and prettier, and cooler than Adora.

And Catra might want to break up.

Which Adora definitely didn’t want.

— . —

“Hey, Catra?” Adora called as she was pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

“Yeah?” Catra called from the closet where she was trying to decide between two identical burgundy sports bras.

“I was, uh,” Adora paused as she grabbed her hair tie with her teeth off her wrist. “I was thinking that it might be fun if we went out tonight? Go into town and grab dinner or something? Have a little date?” She asked with a tentative smile as she finished tying off her hair.

Catra turned to face her properly, lowering both sports bras. “Tonight?” She asked, not sounding excited like Adora had thought she’d be.

The lack of enthusiasm made Adora a little nervous. She licked her lips and continued. “Yeah. We’ve both been really busy lately, and I finally have a night off from--you know--She-Ra stuff. So I was, you know, just wondering if we could, I don’t know. Go on a date,” Adora bumbled, her nerves getting to her the longer she went without an answer.

“Shit, tonight?” Catra asked, her shoulders slumping alongside Adora’s heart. “I can’t. I have a game tonight.”

“Wait, you have a what tonight?” Adora asked, immediately confused.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I meant to tell you. Me and the Guard started up a Softball team. Bright Moon Royal Guard against Entrapta’s Robot Army,” Catra explained, a little smile curling up her lips which Adora knew meant that Catra had really been enjoying playing Softball.

Adora was, admittedly, a little hurt by the fact that Catra hadn’t even thought to tell her about this. Adora was always super supportive of everything Catra did and would have loved the opportunity to cheer her on in a very literal and vocal way.

But, Adora supposed, she had been really busy with She-Ra stuff lately so it made sense that Catra forgot to mention things. Especially when they really only saw each other at dinner and when they got in and out of bed everyday.  

Adora pushed down her hurt feelings and pressed on. “Alright, well. When’s the game? I’ll come and maybe we could grab a bite or something after,” she suggested.

Catra winced. “After games, C.K. usually buys everyone a burger,” Catra explained. C.K. So we’re calling Captain Kassandra C.K. now. Adora suddenly craved physical violence.

Catra continued, not noticing Adora’s mounting frustration. “It’s like--I don’t know--a team bonding thing,” Catra explained with a shrug. “You could come to the game though! I’ll hit a homer for you,” she added, sending Adora a deliciously wicked grin that Adora couldn’t even enjoy due to the slowly mounting rage within her.

Adora took a deep breath, suppressing the anger for the time being, and forced a smile. “That sounds awesome, babe. I’ll….be there for the game then.”

Catra grinned at that and darted over to press a kiss to Adora’s cheek. “I’ll look for you in the stands,” she said, practically glowing with happiness, and just like that, all of Adora’s rage and jealousy melted away. This was something Catra enjoyed. Having friends and maintaining them was important to Catra. So it was important to Adora.

Adora turned and stole a proper kiss from Catra. “Leave your alternate jersey for me and I’ll wear it,” she suggested with a soft smile.

Catra nodded eagerly before she disappeared back into the closet. She came back out wearing one of Adora’s white and blue sports bras, and, honestly, that made everything a little better.

— . —

Adora had no idea how Softball worked, but Gods, was she becoming a fan quickly. Everything from the tight white pants Catra wore, to the slashed up cap she wore to let her ears through was doing things for Adora. Adora was pretty sure she was actually learning less about Softball the longer she spent in the stands. Probably because she was happily staring at Catra’s ass instead of the game.

The whole experience probably would have been a net positive if it wasn’t for what happened at the very end of the game. Catra must’ve hit a particularly impressive ball (Adora wasn't exactly paying attention to the ball or where it was going as much as she was focusing on where the hitter was going and doing) because as she dashed around the diamond, everyone around her was cheering and freaking out. The Bright Mood Guard left the make-shift dugout and ran onto the pitch. They swarmed Catra as she passed home. They all wrapped her in a hug before Captain Kassandra tossed her up into the air and then sat Catra on her shoulder.

Jealousy burned inside of Adora. That was Adora’s move! Adora was absolutely the only one allowed to toss Catra into the air and catch her on her shoulder! Why the hell was someone else doing that?! Was this a common thing? Did Captain Kassandra toss Catra all the time?

Adora was about three seconds away from going full-on beast mode on the Captain. The only thing that stopped her was the way Catra pulled her cap off in celebration, waving it excitedly in Adora’s direction. The elation on Catra’s face—the pure joy that was clear from whatever game-winning hit she’d made—was entirely enough to cool Adora’s temper.

Catra looked radiant out there. And she deserved to be praised like that. She deserved to be celebrated and loved by her friends. Adora wanted that for Catra so badly, and if it wasn’t for the ugly jealous monster that was living rent free inside of her for whatever reason, Adora was sure she’d 100% be just as happy as Catra was in that moment.

So, with her mind made up, Adora grinned and waved back. She cupped her hands around her mouth and cheered loudly. She made a heart with her hands and held it up above her head for Catra to see. Catra must’ve seen it because she blushed a little darker and bit her lip in a way that made Adora’s blood burn in a very different way.

If only Adora wouldn’t have to go home alone after the game.

— . —

Adora decided to wait up for Catra. She wanted to show Catra exactly how proud of her game-winning home-run she was. Adora lit candles around their room while she waited, and even changed into some of the more frilly underwear she owned for nights exactly like this. She kept Catra’s jersey on, though, and made herself comfortable in bed to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Adora waited long after the sun went down behind the back hills, long after the candles burned down to nubs, and long after the lacey bra she wore became too uncomfortable to continue wearing. Adora didn’t want to admit defeat, but eventually the mood was lost, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

It was with a new level of bitterness, and a little heartbreak, that Adora cleaned up the candles, slipped into pyjamas, and put Catra’s jersey away. This time when Adora curled up into bed, she didn’t wait. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

If the smell of candle smoke was still in the air when Catra got back, then so what.

— . —

Adora felt very off for the rest of that week. She hadn’t even heard Catra come in that night, and when she woke up, Catra was curled up into a ball on her own side of the bed. Something about not even waking up in Catra’s arms left a sour taste in her mouth.

Adora knew, logically, that Catra hadn’t made her any promises to come back early that night. She had said that she’d be out with the team, and Adora had agreed to that. It was just that...after a game like that, the first one Adora had gone to, shouldn’t Catra have wanted to come home and celebrate with Adora? Shouldn’t she have at least come back at a decent hour? Catra had only said that she’d be getting dinner with her team. Did getting burgers really take that long?

What else had Catra been doing out there?

That thought alone was enough to leave Adora in a horrible mood for the rest of the week.

She destroyed many straw filled dummies, and snapped at anyone who so much as thought about asking her what was wrong, including Catra.

Especially Catra.

Adora hadn’t been in this bad of a mood since the war--since the time she hadn’t slept for weeks at a time.

And the worst part? Adora knew she was being unreasonable. She knew she was being dramatic and was definitely blowing things out of proportion. It was just that—

The jealous little monster that lived in her mind rent free was slowly taking over.

— . —

Adora was lounging in the bath, trying to make herself feel better though aggressive self-care, when she heard Catra come in. It was already late into the evening. Adora would usually be in bed this time of night, and Adora was beginning to think (unreasonably) that Catra was coming back late on purpose.

“Adora?” Catra called as she noticed the bed was empty. She sounded a little afraid and suddenly Adora was just tired. And sad. And frustrated. She was so, so frustrated with herself and this stupid situation. She didn’t want to be upset at Catra anymore.

“In here!” Adore called back as she moved her hands a little anxiously through the bubbles still floating on the surface.

Catra appeared in the doorway and smiled tentatively. She looked concerned and tired.

“Hey,” Adora said softly.

“Hey,” Catra repeated, her voice just as soft.

“How was your night?” Adora asked. “I missed you at dinner.”

Catra’s shoulders dropped a little and she nodded. She stepped into the bathroom and sat down on the floor right next to the tub, her knees pulled up to her chest as she looked at Adora. Catra looked small like that. Small and afraid.

“Missed you too,” Catra said back, her voice just above a whisper.

Adora bit her lip a little anxiously and had to look away. She couldn’t look at Catra knowing she was the one who made her feel uncertain like this. But...wasn’t it because Adora herself felt uncertain that this whole thing had happened?

Adora pulled in a deep breath and forced herself to look back at Catra. “I’m sorry I’ve been...rough this week,” she said.

Catra leaned her head onto the side of the tub. “Are you gonna tell me what I did?” Catra asked, her voice soft and non-judgemental.

“Catra you didn’t...do anything,” Adora said. “And...well. That’s the problem. I feel like we never see each other anymore. I feel like we don’t talk.”

Catra straightened up, her shoulders coming up in a defensive stance. It was clear she was afraid of what else was coming from this conversation. Adora reached out and placed her hand on top of one of Catra’s knee.

“I just really miss you Catra. All the time, even when I wake up next to you,” Adora admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Catra said immediately, her ears pressing back flat onto her head. “I…”

“Hey, no, I should have said something—” Adora said but Catra cut her off, her eyes wide in realization.

“Oh my gods,” Catra breathed. “You did say something. You wanted—and I totally just brushed you off to hang out with the Guard. Adora—” Catra spoke frantically, and it was Adora who cut her off this time.

“Catra, hey, no,” Adora said as she moved closer. “No, you didn’t brush me off. You just. You’ve never had a really solid group of friends before. Of course you got caught up. I like that you have these people who like you and want to hang out with you. I’ve been so busy lately and I’ve been so thankful that you’ve found these people to keep you company when I can’t,” Adora said honestly.

“It’s just that...I’m not used to having to share your attention. And it’s...it’s making me feel a little insecure—which I hate. I don’t want to be jealous of your friends. I don’t want to keep you away from them,” she admitted, looking at her hands now, ashamed of how she was feeling.

Catra reached out and threaded their fingers. “Adora…” she breathed softly as she squeezed Adora’s hand. “You should have said something, dummy,” she said affectionately, reaching out with her free hand to smooth Adora’s hair back and turn her face up.

“I’ve only been spending so much time with those idiots because I’ve been wanting to give you space to relax,” Catra admitted. “I thought that having me around, wanting your attention after you’d had to listen to people bitch and complain all day would just cause you more stress.” She leaned forward some more to press a kiss to Adora’s lips softly. “I’ve been missing you too, Adora.”

Adora let out a sigh of relief, and then a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. She shot forward and wrapped her arms around Catra in a hug, holding her tight. “You’re sure you’re not unhappy with me? You wouldn’t rather be with C.K.?” Adora asked, finally voicing her deepest concerns.

“What?” Catra asked softly as she held Adora tighter, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that she was getting soaked by the bath. “Adora, Captain Kass is married. To a man. And besides that, I don’t want anyone but you. You make me happier than anything.”

Adora let out another sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m so glad,” she breathed as she pressed her face into Catra’s neck.

— . —

That little jealous monster was finally evicted.

#catradora #catra shera #she ra adora #shera #spop #karleecatradorafics #tumblr prompt #sequel #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #jealous!adora #talking out your feelings #like an adult

[pastelwitchling]

It’s that time of year again, folks. Goodness, that feels odd to say after so long. Watching this episode, I realized that I truly do not care about anyone except Alex, and occasionally the pod squad 😂 I’ve watched each of Alex’s scenes at least three times at this point, and watched Isobel mention Alex to Michael twice, but I did also watch the rest of the episode, so without further ado, grab a nice cup of tea, maybe a snack, because here are my (mostly Alex) thoughts on last night’s season 3 premiere.

I was bored watching everyone else 😅 I think a lot of it stemmed from frustration. I still cannot get over the fact that this whole narrative is treating Max like the one in the wrong when it’s undoubtedly Liz. I’m also not a fan of the storyline where the female character is just constantly fawned over by every handsome guy she meets. It seems like wherever Liz is, whoever she’s working with, they’re always so in love with her, singing her praises and doing everything for her. I just dislike it because it feels very much like pandering, like the woman would never survive if there was someone who acted like, you know, a human around her as oppose to a worshipper. It wasn’t a big thing, I just had to roll my eyes quite a bit.

Kyle. That man needs a break. Thank God, they were going with what I hoped, and ended his relationship with Steph in a throwaway line. That moment he shared with Isobel was so touching, I couldn’t stand it. Huh. Scratch that, I only care about Alex, malex, forlex, the pod squad, and Kyle. That kylex moment - I can’t. Please, God, let this season have so many more kylex moments. I also love kybel, I love their relationship. More Kyle, Alex, and Isobel please.

I don’t like Maria with Gregory. I want redemption for her, but I don’t think she can get that if they have her with another Manes. Just... keep her away from the Manes men. I do not want her near the Manes men. I’m not mortified by it, per say, but I do strongly dislike it right now. It might grow on me later, depending on how she acts.

I will say though I did appreciate the, “You know, Alex is back. Are you here to invite me to the wedding?” This was what I’d hoped from her from the beginning, supporting malex getting together! So long as they don’t mention an “ex” again throughout the show, I’ll be happy. The best thing they can do at this point is pretend the tragedy of season 2 never happened.

(Side note: I’d really love it if Maria stopped taking every chance she got to insult Michael. That’d be nice. Or if they’re going to do it, let someone call her out on it. Like, it’s okay if you scold a woman or give her a genuine flaw that people acknowledge. She’s not made of glass.)

Max looked so cute, I could die. Isn’t he just gorgeous when he’s all tortured? 😂😍❤ I love him. That moment when he listened to Liz’s recording had me near tears. He’s just so tired and so frightened and I think Nathan Dean really nailed the emotion. Have I said I love him yet? I love him. 

I enjoyed the pod squad moments, I love Michael and Max’s relationship, I love seeing Isobel and Michael work together to save Max, I love the family of it, it’s so heartwarming.

Now. Malex. Y’all. Words cannot express how I felt when Michael stopped in front of that shop window to fix his hair. That is some fanfic stuff I would write, my heart jumped, I had to hide my smile I felt so bashful, like I was suddenly intruding on a private moment. And then the way Michael reacted to Maria? I love how they showed he didn’t want nor could take any comfort in her. Not in animosity towards Maria (well, maybe a little), but in the fact that you just know she could never do that for him like Alex could and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise anymore. I thought it was a bit of a missed opportunity with malex, as they could’ve had Michael show that he wanted and needed that comfort from Alex, but hopefully they’re just waiting to have a big scene with them in 3x03, since Alex isn’t in 3x02.

Forlex. The kisses, the moment in bed, Alex’s smirk when Forrest asked him if he got in okay (😱), my heart was thrashing. And, well, I won’t pretend my heart isn’t broken that it’s already over. I freaking love forlex, I love Forrest so much, hats off to Christian Antidormi who came in and really just knocked it out of the park. I think the show was made all the better, and Alex all the happier, for having had him. I’m not angry or too upset about it though, because I’ll still be writing the forlex merman  au bonus story, I’ll still love them together, and I’ll keep Forrest in my heart forever. Also, the missed opportunities with Wyatt Long they could’ve had, really emphasizing how both Alex and Forrest are the black sheep of their families -- it would’ve been brilliant.

Not to mention, as a storyteller myself, I do think it was a little rushed the way Deep Sky was explained and then Forrest leaving, but in truth, I guess I’ve just lived with forlex over the whole hiatus, I’ve written about them so often, that I feel like I spent the past year with them so the scene is very emotionally heavy to me, and I could feel and understand Alex’s tears at seeing this one man who had allowed him so much freedom to just be leaving like that for good.

I am, however, very hopeful for malex’s friendship this season. I do think, realistically, it would be much easier for them to get closer without Forrest there, but at the same time -- again, missed opportunity. The way Alex was already being given E Clearance, like the badass he is, I got goosebumps 🤩😍

I am feeling emotional, hopeful, inspired. I want to write like crazy, which -- as anyone who’s been following me lately and read about my mental breakdown may know -- is the greatest gift anyone could give me. And it all came from Alex, Forrest, and Malex. Who’s shocked? Not me.

I genuinely can’t wait to see what happens the rest of the episodes. I am ready for the (hopefully) wonderful and heartwarming surprises. Already, this season looks promising.

#rnm thoughts #alex manes #michael guerin #forrest long #forlex #malex #kylex #kyle valenti #max evans #gregory manes #isobel evans #anti maria deluca #I guess? #though I do feel like this is pretty ambivalent #but just in case #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico s3 #rnm 3x01