#knew he was lying when he said he wasn’t in the studio for himself

[alloutshirt]

EXCUSE ME??????????

#knew he was lying when he said he wasn’t in the studio for himself #louis #x

[chrollohearttags]

THEY DON’T KNOW | e. jaeger

synopsis: your life and relationship in the spotlight seemed nothing short of perfect..that was until everyone else convinced you otherwise.

content + themes: slight angst, engagement/proposal, musician eren x influencer reader ofc, fluff, drama, mentions of infidelity, kissing, brief mentions of suggestive things, nothing heavy, just a sweet story for my favorite ship

word count: 3.2K

📝: this is for my sweet @honeybleed ‘s 90-00’s R&B collab event! (I’m a little late to the party, I’m so sorry about that! 😭) Congratulations to you again on 600, my love. You deserve every bit and so much more!

SONG 🎧: They Don’t Know • Jon B.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•

noise…it all seemed so much louder than usual nowadays. Everything sounded so much more amplified now matter how hard you fought to drown it out. The music thudding from the speakers on stages that you danced on, the rain droplets splattering against your window pane and lately…the opinions of every envious naysayer and supposed friend alike.

Telling you that your relationship was a moot point. A mere sham and that in due time, it’d come crumbling to its core. Regardless how strong the foundation was between the two of you, outside forces could still cause it to shatter at any moment. But that was only if you allowed it. You couldn’t escape it either…every other scroll and headline on every media outlet was a photo of you two..some flashy shot of you two kissing and holding hands. Appearing happily in love, only to be followed by droves of comments full of negative and downright nasty things about you guys. Saying that it would never work and you were only a temporary thing who ‘just so happened to make it further than the rest..’ it certainly wasn’t a vote of confidence considering you were about to spend the rest of your life together. For the better part of three years, you had come to know and love the renowned artist, EJ the Don. A man who’s music transcended all of time and pushed boundaries..a generational talent with exceptional skill. At least those were the words used to describe him by a plethora of magazines over the years. On the contrary, others would acclaim that he was a bit of a playboy. That he hurt people at will with no regard for their feelings..sabotaging relationships purposefully so that he was no longer bound to them. He didn’t care about anyone other than himself.

However, you knew otherwise. EJ, as far as you were concerned, was an entirely different entity of itself. You had fallen for Eren..the man who’d leave the studio at night tired and exhausted but still managed to have fresh flowers and your favorite treats in hand. The man who’d curl up with you on rainy days and binge movies. The Eren you loved would comfort you relentlessly until you were far batter. Making you laugh and cheer up with the dumbest jokes..that’s the kind of person he was. So it came without question, when one night on the rooftop of a hotel in Greece; surrounded by fluorescent blue lights, a lavish table filled with wine and rose petals next to the serene pool waters where he asked you to be his wife, you’d immediately accept. Saying yes faster than he could get the proposal out. You were elated to not only spend the rest of your life with him but share the exciting news with the world and those you loved. To your surprise though, you weren’t met with the warm reception that you had pictured in your head.

once the announcement came, the rumors followed and there was no escaping them. Even so called friends were hesitant. Telling you that he used to go with this model and date this girl so it was best to watch out. Some even suggested calling the whole thing off to spare you from future heartache...and you’d be lying if you said that they hadn’t worn you down. That you hadn’t wondered if there was a bit of truth to them. But if there was anything he was dedicated to doing, it was setting your mind at ease and proving all of them wrong.

“…room for one more?”

the voice ringing from earshot and sending flutters throughout the pit of your belly. You’d flip over onto your side with a faint beam as your fiancé made his way over to you. “For you? Anytime..” Kneeling into the mattress as he brushes a hand along your bare shoulder blade, leaning forward to place a kiss on your temple. It seemed that the effects of the dreary, rainy day had taken its toll on him as well. Sporting a pair of sweats and a tank top, indicating that he was finished with his work for the day and ready to relax with the one person who brought him serenity. Ironically, there was something rather tranquil about weather like this..whereas most people saw it as something negative; a literal damper in their plans, some took it as an opportunity to purify themselves. Not so much in a literal regard but it was perfect to just lie here and let all of those feelings that normally wouldn’t make their way to the forefront be known. Coiling one of those toned, tattooed arms around (y/n)’s covered torso, Eren began to mumble into your skin..simultaneously leaving gentle pecks along your arm. “This rain kinda sucks, doesn’t it? It’s so depressing..” “..yeah..it is.” The dryness in your response caused an immediate alarm for your fiancé. That was the thing with Eren..even when it seemed as if he were completely nonchalant and not paying you much attention, he focused on the smallest details and kept note.

there were things about you that he had noticed early on in your relationship and still to this day, could remember them better than you could. “I see it’s already working on someone…” making an attempt at a light hearted joke and even smirking afterwards, hoping that his humor would bring at least a faint smile to your face. He hated seeing you like this..hated knowing that something was obviously bothering you and you wouldn’t tell him the cause. In fact, he picked up on it three days ago when he saw you sitting outside near the pool, glaring off into space at what seemed to be nothing. In the same regard, he wasn’t the type to pry..he knew how irksome he felt when someone pestered him so he figured it best to wait for an opportune moment to confront you. Now seemed like as good of a time as any. He never did well with communicating his feelings either so he used jokes and humor as a means to break the proverbial ice. But luckily, he wouldn’t need some awkward segway because you’d ask him something that would make his stomach turn.

“..do you think we did the right thing?”

admittedly and rightfully so, he was a little confused. What ‘right thing’ were you referring to exactly?

“As in what?”

“Getting engaged..moving in together. Are we really meant to be here?” The words seemed to be spilling from between your lips as if they had been sitting there for quite some time. It was a little insulting nonetheless. As if you had waited for this exact moment. But he’d be lying if he said that they hadn’t stung a bit. He figured the two of you were equally yoked and on the same page. Happy to be marrying your forever person. At least that’s what he felt..were you having doubts? Did you not love him as much as he loved you? What had he done wrong? Swallowing the hard lump that had instantly formed in his throat, Eren proceeded to ask questions, seeing if he could maybe get through to you to figure out what was wrong.

“Is there something that would make you think different? I mean, personally..I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real..”

for a moment, he began to reminisce on the moments leading up to the night he popped the question. Searching relentlessly for the perfect ring..enlisting the help of his best friends and even your girls to ensure that it was one that you’d love. He took extra special care to make the night unforgettable. Eren had even flown to go see his mom to ask for the gift she had given him years ago that he now wanted to give to you..if that wasn’t enough, he’d even taken you to your granny’s grave and asked for her blessing of sorts. He was a wreck, even crying because he was so happy and wanted her to know that he’d take care of you from now on..for the first time in his young twenty seven years, he was truly grateful and he wanted nothing more than to be the ideal man for you. A husband that you’d be proud of..one that you bragged to your friends about over lunch, one that you’d dip out on plans early to get back to. That was the type of relationship he had envisioned; one where nothing else mattered when you two were together. Now it seemed that you were having reservations..

“I’m so scared…” Just then, the sounds of your words were muddled by whimpers. He had no idea that you were this conflicted by the matter..and if so, why not say something?! Flipping you over, he’d be met with your beautiful brown eyes that always seemed to burst with love and excitement were welling with tears that were only moments from spilling. Brushing your cheek, Eren gazed upon you with a worried expression over taking his face. How could he have been so dumb?..here you were hurting and he hadn’t even clocked it. “Why, baby? I don’t understand..of what?” Truth was, you were afraid of marriage in general but even more so, if not being what you envisioned. You were afraid of things not being picturesque and perfect. That you’d wake up one day and end up just like the rest of the girls he’d supposedly dumped. Discarded to the wayside after he grew tired of them. You didn’t want everyone to be right about the two of you! Another passed around Instagram model with nothing of substance to offer, a philandering rapper with commitment issues..the headlines were certain to be brutal. But above all else..you only wanted to do this once. You only ever wanted to walk down that aisle one time in your life. You loved this man more than anything in this world so the last thing you wanted was to take his hand in marriage only to be sliding that ring off a few years down the road. It was a sacred thing and you never wanted to lose sight of that.

“Of this..of us not working out. I mean, I love you so much and there’s nothing I want more than to be your wife but everywhere I turn, it seems like somebody wants the opposite. As if we’re not meant to be. I thought everyone would’ve been as happy as we are. But it’s always something..”

granted, he was no stranger to the gossip either. Between his fangirls and the blogs, they wouldn’t give you a break. They were furious that someone had snatched up their precious EJ and it was some girl who seemingly came out of nowhere. According to them, you weren’t his type, you couldn’t possibly love him the way he deserved and there were at least ten other women who were more fit to take your position. It was insane. Although he was never much for social media and its sick antics, he’d done his fair share of defense for you. Which spoke volumes. After a while, he rid himself of all accounts and focused solely on you. Despite it being how you made your living, he wished you’d do the same. He couldn’t imagine petty accusations with zero basis being the reason that he lost you. It would crush him, truly. Even so, he’d done as he always had at times like these and pulled you close to his chest, swaddled you in those muscular arms and peppered your forehead with gentle kisses.

“Do you remember the first night we met? At the club?” It seemed like such an odd time to be going down memory lane but that’s how Eren was..he could tolerate a lot of things but seeing you cry was not one of them. So he wanted to try a different approach.

“I couldn’t forget. I had such a good time..”

“So did I..hell, I was so nervous around you, I almost messed up my whole performance that night.” The two of you break into a small fit of laughter as you look back on the antics of your earlier days together. The wild nights, the hookups, the tension leading up to you making things official..it was all a journey. You’d find yourself giggling as he held you close to him. You seemed far more comfortable and vulnerable now; able to express your feelings more freely. Which was a great thing for him.

“Please..I couldn’t even concentrate. You kept teasing me and shit. I don’t know how I made it through that without embarrassing myself.” But alas, he’d think it was cute. Watching you stumble over your words, seeing you squeeze your thighs together when he switched up those steamier lyrics to fit you and when he ran a finger underneath your chin, you nearly collapsed! Being on stage with your celebrity crush was not for the weak..

“Yeah, but you did and do you remember what everyone was saying after that? All the bullshit they said about us?” It was something you’d never forget, truthfully. For days after, the infamous photo of you guys hugged up on a lounge couch in the VIP section circulated the web for an entire week. There were countless headlines, alleging that you two were an item, that you were hooking up..the game of telephone had become so terrible that three days later, stan accounts and grown adults alike had concocted stories of you two having sex backstage and him doing inappropriate things right there in front of everyone. Even so called ‘witnesses’ backed up the claims. Naturally, all of it was false but it still didn’t stop people from running with whatever narrative they saw fit. Despite the fact that prior to that appearance, you’d never ever laid eyes on this man, less known did all of the things they accused you of. You were complete strangers..again, it stopped no one’s rumor mill from running!

“Yeah..I do. All of it just sounded like people had too much time on their hands.”

but his point wasn’t quite driven home yet..still clutching you, he’d chuckle once more and just nod. “Mhm..and what about when we first started dating? Remember the dumb shit they said then?” Once again, you’d answer his question, giggling when you recalled how stupid it all was. From the accusations of him being nothing more than a pay pig for some lavish lifestyle they claimed you were flexing online. Or that he wasn’t really faithful because he did a show with a former ‘partner’, who was nothing more than a PR stunt to begin with. Nevermind the fact that she was a lesbian! “Like when they said you were cheating on me with your ex? Trust me, I couldn’t escape that one even if I wanted to.” “Which was crazy because she was way more interested in you than me. Even asked me for your number..” seeing his expression furrow into a silly pout and you couldn’t hold it together another second. You’d burst into laughter at the thought. “I’m serious! She got mad because I didn’t bring you with me..must think I’m stupid or sum’. Little Miss Hoes always pulled more girls than I ever could.” The mental image of a one hundred thirty pound, five foot four blonde stealing his potential prospects had you rolling around and in much better spirits. “You’re a mess, you know that?” Which was his one and only goal.

“Well I’m glad somebody found my lack of game funny.” But truthfully, the only woman he wanted was right here. Which was the entire point of this little roundabout trip down memory lane..it didn’t matter what happened back then or what people claimed to know about him..he only cared about what was to come. The life, the future that he was building with you trumped over anything that they could say. They didn’t know how drastically he had changed for you. How he was hopelessly in love..how much softer and compassionate he had become so he was a better man for you. Even when you weren’t around, his beloved (y/n) was the topic of conversation..oftentimes, his boys would make fun of him for how much of a ‘simp’ he had grown to be. How his voice changed in pitch when you were on the phone, his eyes radiating whilst talking to you..it was the cutest thing! So if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he was all in. He had no regrets or doubts about asking you to marry him. He was ready. Anybody from his past was a mere afterthought and he wasn’t missing out. All he could do was pray that you felt the same. Turning your head towards him, EJ looked you directly in the eyes and began to speak.

“Listen, princess..I know it isn’t easy. Being with someone like me. I’m not perfect..not by a long shot. Truth is, I was really selfish back in the day. I wasn’t thinking about anybody but myself. Hell, until you came along, I still didn’t. I had always told myself I’d never let anyone get close to me just so I didn’t have to worry about another person. Marriage, dating..seemed like a foreign concept to me..” this was the first time in his life where he was able to be vulnerable..where he could lay all of his emotions bare. Intertwining your fingers together, Eren pulled them close and placed gentle kisses across your knuckles. A comforting tactic for the both of you.

“But right now...there’s nothing else I want more than to be your husband. To keep making more of these memories..(Y/N), I couldn’t imagine doing this without you. I can’t take back what I’ve done or who I was. And I’m so sorry that you’ve had to be on the receiving end of it. But I don’t care about what happened back then or what they say about us. I love you..I love you so damn much. Please believe me when I say that.” By this point, faint traces of tears began to stream once more. You were no longer sad, hurt or worried but rather..relieved. Relieved that his heart was equally devoted to this as yours. You’d do whatever it took to make this work. Outside interferences and opinions aside..

“And I love you more, Eren. I promise, I won’t let anything or anyone come between us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

No relationship was ideal and obviously, just like rainy days, bad ones were guaranteed as well but you could always weather the storm as long as you were together..

#aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #musician x influencer au #aot eren jaeger #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #aot eren #aot au #collab event #songfic #black fem reader #eren yeager #eren x reader #aot #cherry’s works 🍒✨ #black reader #aot fluff #eren x reader fluff #eren fluff #aot angst #eren aot #black fanfiction #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager fluff #snk drabble #aot drabbles #eren imagines #eren headcanons #eren #eren x y/n

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Steve comes home from his first post-injury workout drenched in sweat and throws himself onto the sofa on his back. Robin winces as she watches him go, raising an eyebrow. 

“That bad?” She asks, to which Steve groans in response.

“They want me to wear a bubble.” Steve responds, digs his hand around inside the gym bag still attached to his side and lifts out the full face mask.

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea, protect your face at least.” Robin observes, only to be met by a glare from Steve. His facial expressions are making a triumphant return as he regains more control over his face as the wound heals, and he’s taking full advantage of his bitchy looks whenever he can.

“Says the one not blowing hot air back into their own face as they work out.” He grumbles, flopping back and dropping the mask onto his stomach. “Everything hurts. You’d think I’ve been out for months, not just a few weeks.”

“How’s the headache?” Robin predicts, and Steve gives her another look before he sighs. 

“It’s not bad, don’t overreact. It’s not the concussion.” He insists, ignores the way her eyebrow rises again and instead pushes himself up again. “I’m going to shower,” Steve announces, making a quick escape from Robin.

It’s not exactly that he’s lying, because he’s not. He doesn’t think anything he’s feeling is concussion-related. The soreness in his muscles is from suddenly being weighed down with his hockey gear again, after weeks without. It’s a similar feeling to the first workout of the pre-season. The headache is a little trickier to convince everyone around, so he’d avoided mentioning it and done his best to hide it at the rink. It’s no surprise Robin can just tell he has one, though.

He lets steam fill the bathroom before he steps under water so hot his skin turns pink. He lets the shower spray target the middle of his back, shifts so it settles between his shoulder blades, and rests his forehead against the cool tiles in front of him.

Eventually, he emerges back into the apartment in sweatpants, his hair air drying. Robin is setting a cup of hot tea down on the coffee table, her own tucked onto an end table beside her on the sofa. Steve smiles softly and mumbles his appreciation as he sits and takes a sip.

As he drains the cup, the headache eases a bit and he feels a bit more human than he had after returning home from his workout. 

“You got mail from your parents today,” Robin eventually offers over the New Girl re-run neither of them are particularly paying attention to but have on for familiar background noise. Steve just grunts, uninterested, and instead busies himself checking any messages he may have missed from people he actually cares to give the time of day. 

Dustin had demanded a “family dinner,” which Steve agrees to and warns Robin when to expect a full house. Max, traveling with the Blackhawks for a game tomorrow night, had sent him a detailed threat to not push himself too hard while working out. He responds with a video clip the trainer had taken of Steve nailing a series of wrist shots.

Steve tries hard not to be too disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Eddie. They’d texted about their plans for the day, Steve knew Eddie had said he’d be spending the day in his studio working on a few new tracks he was putting together. Still, though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping he’d have found a text or two from the other in the time he hadn’t been looking at his phone, something that was quickly becoming a standard for the pair.

Biting back his pride, he decides to send the first text, figuring the other will answer whenever they’re wrapping up in the studio.

Steve: Hope you’re having a good studio session.

After a long few moments, Steve can’t help the little sigh he lets out as he buries himself into the throw pillows filling out the sofa beside him. Robin nudges him with a foot, eyebrow raised, and he shrugs back at her, turning his attention to the television. It isn’t long before he zones out, though, thinking and overthinking.

His injury has given him a lot of time to think about a lot of things; primarily what landed him off the ice. He’s only mentioned it to Robin, but he has been considering coming out to his coaching staff and league officials to give background on what seems like an otherwise unprovoked violent streak from Billy Hargrove. Steve learned, in the days he spent in LA after the attack on the ice, Billy had taken to calling him names and slurs with press and on social media. The trash talking had landed him another fine from the league, but it wasn’t slowing him down. It was more than enough to prove the attack was premeditated, if everyone who needed to know the background was read in on their history.

And while Billy was staying on the attack, his teammates were apparently squared up and ready to defend Steve in a way he probably should have expected but hadn’t seen coming. Each of the players who had gotten physically involved in fighting Billy after Steve had taken a stick to the face had made comments with press about how Hargrove plays dirty and mean. Several had also spoken out about Steve’s leadership and sportsmanship on and off the ice, throwing their support behind him through his recovery. 

Coming out to the league and his coaches also had the potential to alleviate some of the anxiety he was feeling around his personal life. There had always been concern about coming out, getting kicked off the ice and ending up without the one thing he knew best. Long before he’d joined the league, his father had impressed upon him that he would have to settle and make sacrifices if he wanted to stay with the sport, but Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep his sexuality bottled up and hidden away from the public.

In large part, it was easy to place blame on Eddie. The rockstar blew into his life and changed his perspective on what it was like to be a public figure, out and proud. Steve knew their status didn’t translate equally. Sports fans were different from fans of a band; Steve had joined a team with supporters who would cheer him on so long as he wore their colors and made them proud. Eddie’s fans had sought him out, decided to listen to his music and support him on their own. But for Steve to see Eddie carrying on with his life, not having to hide any part of himself or worry about not posting certain photos from their days in LA on social media (because what if they looked too suspicious and got people talking and asking questions?) was what Steve longed for. 

Chicago was a pretty open-minded town; it’s why he and Robin had first moved to the city to begin with. But it still wasn’t a guarantee that everyone would continue to support the team if he did publicly come out. And Steve was working to reconcile that in his mind; to gauge how much he should even care about it. A part of him knew the greater majority wouldn’t give a shit as long as he still scored goals and played a clean, fair and exciting game whenever he hit the ice. But the thought of those few who might push back too hard and how it could impact his teammates - his friends - in the long term is still what ate away at him.

“I can hear how loud you’re thinking over there.” Robin eventually says while he’s deep in thought, and he shoots her a small smile in response. “Look, Steve, you have to do what you think is best for you. Who gives a shit about anyone else.” She says.

He wishes it was that easy. He knows it could be, but he cares too much about the fallout to stop overthinking. They fall back into silence again, until Robin eventually closes her laptop and leans close to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s hair.

“You’re the best at what you do and if people can’t see that around the fact that you like guys, then that’s their loss.” She says, gently, before excusing herself off to bed.

Steve lounges around in the living room for a while longer, before he turns off the tv, grabs a blanket and makes his way out onto the terrace. He wraps the sherpa around his shoulders and drops into one of the loungers out there, looking out toward the skyline. It’s cold, but not as cold as it’s been, and he’s always found comfort in the winter weather, anyway.

His phone buzzes, catching his attention, and he smiles softly at Eddie’s name. When he answers FaceTime, he’s immediately met by chaos. It sounds like three voices are talking over each other, Eddie’s closest to the phone, making a loud ‘shhh’ sound until everyone around him is silenced.

“Did you mean to call me?” Steve asks around a smile, and watches as Eddie’s face lights up as he draws his attention.

“I did!” He insists, though Steve isn’t entirely convinced. “Want to hear what the track I’m mixing right now?”

Steve raised his eyebrow, only half sure he knows what Eddie’s talking about, before he nods. “Let’s hear it.” He agrees.

“Told you,” Eddie hisses at someone just out of the camera’s frame; probably one of the Corroded Coffin boys. Eddie taps a few buttons below the phone, then a soft guitar tune starts playing. It’s not like anything Steve has ever heard from the band before, gentler and softer. Other instruments crash in, in a more typical Corroded Coffin sound, for what Steve assumes will be a chorus once there’s a vocal track, but it slows back to just a guitar for the next verse. Eddie pauses the song and lifts the phone up again. “Thoughts and opinions are encouraged.”

“It’s different.” Steve says, still a little in awe.

“But not in a bad way!” He hears Gareth’s voice from somewhere in Eddie’s studio, and Steve nods in agreement.

“I don’t think it’s in a bad way, either. Just different. It still sounds like you guys in that middle part, when all the instruments join in. But the guitar, that’s… it’s soft and sweet and gentle. It works nicely, not that I know anything about music,” Steve laughs, and Eddie gives him a little smile.

“I appreciate your opinion,” he says, seeming to inspect the screen. “Your face looks a little less colorful. How was practice?”

“Fine, I’m sore now, though.” Steve admits, shifts and cracks his back.

“Gross!” Jeff cries from somewhere around Eddie, and Steve can’t help but laugh again.

“You should get back to working, I’m gonna head to bed soon anyway. We can talk tomorrow?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods. 

“Night, Stevie.”

~~~~

He hangs up the FaceTime, steals a pizza roll off Jeff’s plate, and re-opens the notes app on his phone. Scanning over the rambling notes he’d made himself about how he imagined the song would work out, he starts a new paragraph.

And he stares at the blank line before him.

“You’ve composed, like, 4 tracks and you can’t come up with a single lyric for any of them?” Freak asks, takes a pull from a joint burning in an ashtray near the sofa, and blows the smoke out away from the group.

“Very helpful insight,” Eddie grumbles, and Jeff leans forward. 

“Do you want us to help? Like, do you have a theme for the songs, or is this just going to be your own little pet project?” He asks.

“Well, I guess it depends. If you want to drop a surprise EP or double album after the one we’re putting out, I’m probably going to need help. But if you’re cool with letting me sit on it, I can probably figure it out on my own.” Eddie offers.

Gareth twirls a drumstick between his fingers. “I think we let Eddie handle the love songs about Steve Harrington, and if he comes up with enough to make into something to drop, we drop them whenever he’s ready, and if not, we throw them onto the next album or whatever when he’s ready to release them.” 

Eddie sighs and drops his head back against the rest of his swivel chair. “Can we stop calling them love songs about Steve?”

“Guess you have extra incentive to write lyrics to them, then,” Freak teases, and Eddie groans back, making the other boys laugh.

It isn’t much longer before they all excuse themselves to the rooms they claimed around the house. Eddie spends a few extra hours in the studio, working on as many lyrics as his brain allows and even sorts out bridge for the song he’d played for Steve before he heads off to bed.

He isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning to a text from Steve, who routinely gets up hours before Eddie and is always the first to send a text wishing him a good day ahead.

Eddie: Go easy on yourself on the ice today, you were up too late listening to headbanger music.

It’s a while before he gets a response, which isn’t uncommon. They both have their own lives which responsibilities to get up to. But Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting not-so-patiently for Steve’s next response. Freak flew out this afternoon, heading back to visit family in Ohio, leaving Gareth and Jeff at Eddie’s. They’re playing video games in the living room when Eddie’s phone rings with Steve’s name and ID photo.

“Hey, how was today?” Eddie asks immediately, launching himself off the sofa and away from the boys and the noise from the television.

“Well, that’s part of why I’m calling,” Steve says, sounding a little out of breath and hair damp with sweat, glancing off camera before he flashes a charming smile down at Eddie. “What are you doing Tuesday?”

His brain short-wires for a second, thrown off course by the response. Is this Steve, asking him out on a date? That can’t be it, right? There’s no way, not with the back-and-forth they have going on. There would be more to it than that, and Steve seems like the kind of guy to give more than 4 days notice for a date that requires at least one party to travel several states. So Eddie does his best to quickly calm and compose himself, hoping he hasn’t taken an alarmingly long time to answer, before he responds. “I don’t know, what am I doing Tuesday?”

“I think you’re coming to watch the Blackhawks play the Predators in Nashville. I’m allowed to travel and suit up, but I probably won’t play just yet.” Steve is grinning, and Eddie can’t help but smile back.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be there!” He agrees, already pulling up the link to buy tickets for the game. “If I get shamed for wearing my Harrington jersey to a Preds game, you get to take the blame for me rooting against my home away from home.” Eddie teases, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh.

“Bring it on,” he challenges, finally seems to Eddie like he’s caught up and gotten back the quick wit and sharp humor which had been on a slight delay since the injury. A sign of recovery, Eddie’s sure and it helps to see him returning to normal.

They catch one another up on their days, and Eddie lets Steve listen to a few more of the tracks they’ve been working on over the last few days, but stops before the lyrics start in the only one he and Jeff have crafted words to so far, not ready for Steve to hear it yet.

As they’re talking, Eddie gets a notification he almost swipes away without reading, but Steve’s name catches his attention, so he drags it down and reads over the words.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie realizes the face he must be making is ridiculous. 

“Oh, uh. I just got a notification about you?” he mumbles back, and texts the link to Steve.

Now it’s Steve’s turn to look confused as Eddie reads over the headline again.

Hockey Legacy Harringtons to Host Joint Fundraiser

Steve reads the words and seems to immediately understand them in a way Eddie can’t, and he closes his eyes in a heavy sigh. “I promise you, my life is not usually this dramatic.” 

Eddie hates how miserable Steve seems all of a sudden; regrets passing the link on but knows he would have found out eventually and gotten upset anyway. “Dude, really, I don’t even know what that means, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. This is my parents, deciding that I’m worthy of being their son again because I’m getting a bunch of positive press after the injury. So my name gets to be included in the gala invitation, which I have been excluded from since juniors, by the way.” It’s still piecemeal, the information Eddie is able to take away from Steve’s explanation, but it’s enough to get the general gist of the issue.

“Ah. So, the dad who convinced you to self-sabotage is now trying to take credit for your sportsmanship?”

“Something like that,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie can see how he’s holding the phone differently, typing out a text. “I think I have to get Robin and we need to figure this out, sorry to jump off like this. But, I’ll see you at the Preds game? We can grab dinner after?”

“It’s a date.”

Eddie physically can’t stop the words before they’re out of his mouth, and immediately waits for a hole in the ground to open up and suck him in and put him out of his misery. But Steve just raises an eyebrow, smiles and shrugs. “Not yet, but. Sure.”

Then, Eddie stares at himself in the reflection of his phone after Steve ends the FaceTime call and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do with Steve Harrington, who keeps finding new ways to catch him off guard.

#glitter & crimson #starkidmunson writes #it's a little longer as an apology for how long it's been #steddie #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #simultaneously the slowest of burns and the most obvious flirting #anti-steve's parents

[natspats]

“it was love at every sight.”

(quote: della hicks-wilson)

thank you ⁉️anon for the inspo for this story! ☺️

thank you for reading and enjoy! xx 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆

schlatt groaned.

he didn’t understand why they had to bring this random chick onto the podcast. why couldn’t they have someone on that they BOTH knew?

ted had known her for about a year and a half, and they were best friends. but schlatt would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit jealous of their relationship.

ted had always been close with schlatt, but when the name “y/n” started being thrown around, he felt a pang of jealousy.

he didn’t even know what she looked like, he didn’t bother to look her up on any social media. he didn’t care much for this “y/n” girl.

ted caught onto this attitude of course and had been on his ass about being nice to her. “fake it till you make it!”, is what he had kept telling him. and-

“i’m not fake, i’m the real deal!” is what schlatt dramatically scoffed in response.

however, he decided it wouldn’t look very good on him if he was being rude to a girl in front of thousands of people.

so, he shoved his protests deep down inside, put on his regular persona, and decided to just get the episode over with.

as schlatt sat in the booth of their studio, ted was hurrying around, making the final arrangements to begin the session, when he suddenly stopped in front of schlatt.

“she’ll be here soon, are you ready?” ted arched a brow and stuck his crossed arms in front of his chest.

“do we haveeee tooooo?” schlatt sunk into his seat like a 3 year old in protest over not getting a toy at the store.

“yes schlatt we do, it’s too late to back out.”

“BUT I TRIED TO BACK OUT AND YOU WOULDN’T LET ME!” schlatt cried whilst kicking his feet.

“i owe her, and it’ll be good publicity to have an up and coming on the pod.” ted drops his arms.

“what do you have against her anyways? you haven’t met her, no?”

schlatt would never admit to being jealous. thus, he contemplated the correct response.

“uh- well- i don’t know her. and uh- you know her so well, so i think it’ll be awkward.” schlatt mumbled.

“it won’t! i promise. she’s very easy to get on with.” ted smiles with a pat on his shoulder.

“and who knows, maybe you might like her!”

“yeah right.”

bzzz bzzz

ted jumps and picks his phone up from off the table, swiftly checking it.

“she’s here! be right back.” he walks to the exit before turning around and pointing a finger at the mutton chopped man.

“best behavior young man!”

schlatt puts his arms up in surrender. “relaxxxx. you have nothing to worry about.”

ted swings the door open and mumbles as he walks out, “you better be right about that.”

best behavior? best behavior??

yeah right.

he was going to have EXCELLENT behavior.

he was going to prove ted wrong.

schlatt absentmindedly scrolled through his phone until he heard voices approaching the door. and once the door opened, his eyes shot up.

“here we go.” he thought to himself as he sat up from his toddler-esque slump.

the door clicked open, and in walked ted with-

oh.

oh.

suddenly the whole world around schlatt stopped.

he felt his throat get tight.

his heart began to race.

his palms got all sweaty.

did he look ok?

everything around him got all fuzzy, and she was the only clear thing to him.

she.

who was she?

“earth to schlatt?” ted waved his hands in front of schlatts face.

suddenly he was taken out of his trance.

“yeah-sorry, what?”

ted looked at him with a look mixed with suspicion and confusion.

“this is y/n!” ted presents her to him.

y/n reaches her hand out for him to shake.

“hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you! ted has told me lots much about you.” she beamed at him. schlatt takes her hand and shakes it.

among all of the scattered, racing thoughts in his head, one of the only thoughts that were clear to him was that her hands were soft.

a beat of silence passed before schlatt realized he needed to respond. he looked into her eyes and the faintest, but most genuine smile appeared on his face.

“it’s nice to finally meet you too.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

about 45 minutes into the podcast, things were going great- at least in ted’s standards. he was worried schlatt was going to be a prick to her, but he actually had excellent behavior.

that was mainly because throughout the podcast, schlatt had been talking, but not as much be usually would be. and that’s because he was too busy taking in her all in.

it was like he was in a desert and she was his only water source.

he didn’t understand why he felt this way.

he hadn’t felt this was on any of the zoom calls full of girls on the love or host episodes.

he hadn’t felt this way for anyone, not even minx.

schlatt thought he was ok with not being in love or being in a relationship, but apparently he wasn’t?

not to mention, his behavior was unlike his usual self, so it was very noticeable during the recording.

schlatt was beginning to feel that pang of jealously, however, not of y/n. but of ted, and how close he was with her.

as schlatt sat there in his lovestruck trance, he was once again broken out of it by the sound of a soft voice.

“j?” she raised a bow with a confused smile.

J?

J?!?!??!?!

his heart beat faster at that nickname and his cheeks flushed red. why the fuck was he freaking out? it was literally just his name. but nobody has ever called him J before. and-

“sorry, what’s up?”

ted snorted at this, beginning to catch on to this behavior from his dear friend.

and she just let her brows fall into a worried position, all the while keeping a smile plastered across her face.

“i said,” a light blush spreading across her cheeks, “do you think you would ever go on another love or host episode? i was asked by austin recently to have a go at it.”

his heart stopped for a split second.

for some reason, he couldn’t bare the thought of other guys having a chance with her. but then again, what if he was a contestant? what if he had a chance to win her over? what if-

“hmmmmmmmm. i suppose it depends on who id be competing for.” schlatt leaned back in the booth, manspreading.

“i second that.” she points in schlatt’s direction.

ted grins. (mwahahaha type grin)

“you know,” ted leans towards y/n, “i’m sure if you went on, schlatt would be a contestant.” ted flashes a shit eating grin at schlatt.

schlatt turns red and flashes him a look of “oh my fucking god i’m going to fucking kill your fucking dumbass.”

quickly recovering, schlatt scoffs with a “yeahhh righttt. i barely know this broad!”

“yeah well, im sure you’ll know each other well enough soon.” ted smirks and busts out laughing by himself.

what was he doing??

twitter was going to go feral.

schlatt glances over and accidentally makes eye contact with her. but surprisingly, she holds it.

and in the midst of the ugly laughter from their shared best friend, a big, genuine smile, spreads across their cheeks.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

after the episode is wrapped up and everyone is getting ready to leave, schlatt is sitting back at the booth on his phone.

he looks up from his phone and immediately feels his heart beat hard again.

y/n had walked up to him.

“so uh- i was thinking.” she looks down at her feet, that are rocking back between her toes and heels, then back up at him.

“i was thinking we could make a good team to gang up on ted. y’know- get revenge for today.” she’s wearing a small smile, one that suggests that she’s nervous.

schlatt nervousness falters at this and pushes up his confidence to try to make her feels better.

“i was actually thinking the same thing.”

“great minds think alike.” she lets out a giggle.

“right right. well then, you’re going to have to give me your number toots so that we can have a constant source of communication. all good teams communicate after all, right?”

and with that, they exchanged numbers, a smile , and she went back to her hotel.

ted locked the studio, and the pair made their way out to schlatt’s corvette.

and finally.

finally, ted got something out of his system he’d been waiting alllllll day to get out.

“told ya you’d like her.”

#schlatt fluff #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n

[cpidsworld]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍? - ATSUMU MIYA

WORD COUNT - 2.9K

pairing: tattoo artist!atsumu miya x fem!reader

synopsis: your friend reccomended you a new tattoo artist. she said she adored his work ethic, and he was easy on the eyes. not that the latter part of her statement swayed you in any way, you made your way down to the foxy tattoo and piercing studio. you had gotten tattoo's before, that wasn't the problem, you didn't mind the pain aspect at all, or maybe you liked it a litte too much. the problem was, being stuck with your tattoo artist's hand on your waist as he tattooed on your ribcage.

warnings: semi-public sex, fingering in the tattoo chair, hair pulling, panties being used as a gag, rough sex, degradation, crying because of too much pleasure, breeding, overstim, praise, mentions of exhibitionism, orgasm control, atsumu fucks the reader while he's on the phone (lemme know if i missed any)

a/n: merry christmas ya filthy animals. was gonna post this earlier but family came over. i also rushed the end but i still think this is a good comeback for my blog. also i hope i tagged everyone correctly that commented and if you wanted to be tagged and just liked the post m'sorey and i hope the post makes it to you!! n e ways, happy reading <3

haikyuu masterlist | main masterlist

you've been going to the same tattoo studio for the past couple of years. you knew the owner so in your eyes, he was the safest bet to getting a good tattoo. that changed when your friend showed you the most recent work she had done. she sent you a picture of a gorgeous back tattoo she'd gotten done and a glowing review of the tattoo artist. 

"he was so polite and friendly, the service was amazing, and he's easy on the eyes." 

you didn’t really have a reason to try someone new, but here you were walking towards the foxy tattoo and piercing parlour. if you were being honest, you didn’t need to get a tattoo or change tattoo artists, but maybe a little change could be good.

as you walk through the glass tinted doors your eyes widen at the interior. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have much expectations for the inside, but you were proven wrong. there was a small desk in the front, while the rest of the loft-like area was filled with artwork. there were couches scattered around the work areas. It seemed as though the front area was where the piercings took place and in the back you could see the tattoo chair with all the equipment around it. 

while you were taking in your surroundings you hadn’t noticed a grey haired man walk behind the front desk. he clears his throat just a little to get your attention which instantly has you turning your head towards him.

“you okay? y’seem a little dumbstruck.”

he chuckles quietly to himself and you feel your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment. you’d probably looked like a kid who’s never set foot in a candy store, oogling at all the things their little eyes could see. he could see the pink on your cheeks before reassuring you that you’re fine.

“so, what brings ya here today?”

“i’ve got an appointment for a tattoo today, with an…atsumu miya?”

the grey haired man nods and checks on the computer to verify your appointment. he then gets up off the chair before yelling to who i assumed to be atsumu, to come out and do his job. not too long after a man who looked exactly like the one in front of you, except for the difference in hair colour. your mildly confused little brain put two and two together and figured out they were twins.

“twins, huh?”

“been stuck with him since the womb. i’m osamu by the way, and that over there as ya might already know is atsumu.”

your eyes trail up to the man infront of you as he introduces himself. he was wearing a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms, as well as the tattoos that adorned them. Your gaze tailed up to his face as he looked at you with his chocolate brown eyes. your friend wasn’t wrong when she said he was easy on the eyes.

“hi. i’m atsumu. nice ta meetcha.”

you greeted him back before he led you to the back area of the store where the he sat down, motioning you to sit on the tattoo chair.

“so, what are we doin’ for ya today?”

“i was thinking of getting a tattoo on my ribcage. barbed wire actually.”

he smiled a little, drawing something on the page in front of him. he was done, and he moved his chair closer to you and placed his clipboard on your lap. you looked at the drawing he had done, a slightly curved line of barbed wire that looked like it could fit perfectly on your body. he watched as you studied his drawing, his eyes searching for your approval. 

when you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you causing the heat from earlier to slowly creep onto your face again. you quickly averted your eyes and went back to looking at the drawing.

“it’s perfect.”

he smiled before asking you to sit up properly in the chair. your eyes were on him as he moved closer to you, as his hands ghosted over the side of your body. 

“right or left side.”

“right.”

he nodded as he moved to sit on the right side of you, hands on the chair next to you.

“may i?”

he asked as his hands were about to touch the side of your body, and you slowly nodded. his hands went to your ribcage,testing out possible placement of the tattoo. when his hands went a bit higher, just grazing the underside of your breast you let out a shaky breath. he glanced up at you and smirked a little.

after a few more changes you settled on a placement, and atsumu got straight into creating the stencil. not too long after that, osamu had announced he was going on a break and left to the back of the store, where atsumu had emerged earlier. 

once osamu was gone, you were acutely aware of how alone you two were in the store. you couldn't keep your eyes off atsumu as he worked. his muscles flexing slightly while he finished up the stencil. 

when he was done, he moved back towards you as he adjusted the chair you were sitting it to be horizontal for you to lay back in.

"if ya want you can lift yer shirt f'me, or if it's more comfortable, ya can take it off."

he said this nonchalantly as he was prepping the tools he needed for your tattoo, getting everything onto the silver table next to where he was going to work. you gulped slightly, not knowing whether to take your shirt off or not, so you ended up just taking the right arm out of your shirt, essentially having half of your shirt off, showing off the pretty lace bra you wore. 

when he turned back to you in order to place the stencil on, his eyes trailed over your exposed skin before mentally kicking himself for staring. he inched in closer as he asked you to raise your arm for him to get a better angle. he gently placed the stencil on the decided spot, massaging it with his right hand while his left hand rested on your waist, using it as leverage to help get the stencil on better. 

he didn’t realise his fingers were slightly caressing your side as he held you in place, but your body was suddenly hypersensitive and all you could feel were his fingers on your body. your thighs instinctively came together, unintentionally rubbing together. atsumu’s eyes trailed over your body down to your legs, where you were clenching your thighs, before looking up at you, without moving his hands an inch.

you avoided his gaze, unsure of how looking at him right now would affect your heart rate. you suddenly feel atsumu’s hand move higher up your waist, inching closer to your breast. your eyes snapped towards his, trying to gauge his reaction. you thought it was a bit cliche to have fantasies of fucking your tattoo artist, and if you were being honest, your previous tattoo artist wasn’t anything to write home about, moreover, he was your friend, but atsumu was a complete stranger. he was a sexy stranger who had his hand trailing up the side of your body, while maintaining eye contact with you.

you could feel the heat in your cheeks for the third time today, not sure how to deal with the situation. you weren’t opposed to it, but you were basically out in the open, where anyone could walk in.

“ya okay sweetheart? i can stop if yer not okay-”

“i’m okay. please don’t stop.”

and that’s all it took for atsumu to get up from his seat and push you back onto the tattoo chair, your back hitting the soft leather as atsumu’s arms were on either side of your head. his face was close to yours, his hot breath fanning over your face. your breath was hot and heavy, trying to wrap your head around the current situation. his eyes were scanning over your face, looking for any signs that you might not want this, but when he found none, he leaned down and kissed you, slow at first, getting to know and feel how your lips felt against his, before he picked up the pace, slowly licking your bottom lip and biting it a little to get access to your tongue. his hands found purchase on your hips as he grinds your body against his, eliciting a quiet moan from you, giving him just the access he needs to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. he kissed you so fervently, wanting to know every part of you, every crevice of your mouth, before pulling away slowly, your bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

one of atsumu’s hands trailed down from your hips to the waistband of the shorts you wore, before slipping past the threshold. his fingers lazily found their way to your puffy lips before he swiped them along your slit.

“already wet f’me? what a little slut.”

your body bucked into his hand, your hole clenching around nothing at the name. you were wet, soaking even, and he wasn’t helping. his middle finger prodded at your entrance before pushing inside you, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit. your hands made their way to his hair, gripping it slightly as his pace increased. you gasped as you felt him add a second finger, a shiver of pleasure running up your spine. you tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to risk getting caught, which definitely pissed atsumu off. he used his other hand to pull down your shorts and panties in one swift moment before adding a third finger to your tight hole.

“now i wanna hear ya. c’mon make some noise fer me.”

you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, your eyes screwed shut as you writhed underneath him.

“that’s my good girl. doin’ so well f’me.”

his fingers felt like heaven inside you, your back arching off the chair as you whined for more. his free hand came to your hair and he slowly grabbed hold of it, leaning down to kiss you once again, yet this kiss was filled with lust and greed. his fingers moved like pistons inside you, you felt the heat in your abdomen growing steadily. you knew you wouldn't last long, and atsumu could feel you clenching around his fingers. he pulled away from the kiss, smirking down at you.

"look at my pretty baby, about to fall apart on a stranger's fingers. anyone could see ya, looking like a slut sprawled out on my tattoo chair."

you whined, squirming under his touch. he leaned down, head buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings and praise in your ear. you couldn't help but come undone on his fingers, biting the skin on his neck, to hide your moans. your legs were weak, and tiredness was creeping into your bones slowly. he got up off the table and pulled your body to the edge, your ass hanging slightly off the end.

"nuh uh. we're not done yet sugar." 

he undid his pants and threw them where your shorts were and your eyes were transfixed on his cock, hard and red at the tip. you licked your lips, and looked up at him, knowing that he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. before he grabs your hips, he picks up your underwear and hands them to you.

"in yer mouth, sweetheart. need to keep that sweet voice down for me."

you take it and put it in your mouth, and his hands grip your hips. he rubs his cock up and down your folds, your juices and his pre-cum mixing, lubing him up. as he was about to push inside his phone rings. it shocks both of you as he bends down to pick it up. You shake your head violently, hoping he doesn’t answer it, but all he does is put a finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion as he answers the phone.

“oh hey ‘samu. whatcha need?”

you could feel atsumu rubbing against you again as you look at him, eyes wide, as his tip catches on your entrance every so now and again. he continues talking to his brother as he slowly began to sink inside you, biting his lip to hide his moans, and you throw your head back against the chair, biting back your moans, only a few small ones slipping past the panties between your lips. 

“nah i’m not busy. we haven’t started her tattoo yet. we had a small…setback”

he smirks as he starts to fuck into you, not allowing you to adjust to his size and still sensitive from your previous orgasm. your hand gripped his that was at your waist, nails digging into his wrist as you tried your best to be quiet, your body wanting to betray you and give in to the pleasure.

atsumu was in heaven. seeing your fucked out face in front of him, flushed and needy, holding back moans he desperately wanted to come out. in his eyes, you were perfection.

you could see on atsumu’s face he was feeling it too, his eyebrows were knitted together, sweat dripping from his brow, and his eyes never leaving yours. his eyes carried all the emotions he was feeling: lust, want, need. emotions you couldn’t help but feel as well. He leaned down over you, his face right over yours his jagged breaths and soft groans filling your senses. you were close again, and feeling him twitch inside you, you knew he was too.

“ya can get lunch for us, and the pretty girl too.”

he winked at you slyly.

“i’m coming..soon so just wait for us, yeah?”

you knew what he meant, the raspy tone of his voice and the slight stutter in his voice. he said his final goodbyes and finally put the phone down before bottoming out inside of you. you whine loudly, tears prickling at the sides of your eyes. you wanted to cum, no you needed to cum. You wiggled your hips as best you could against him, grinding on his cock. he groaned lowly into your neck before grabbing onto your hair.

“ya wanna cum? does my pretty girl wanna cum like a slut on my cock?”

Your body ached as he said that, your cunt fluttering around him.

“it seemed like ya enjoyed being fucked while i spoke to my brother. wanna have him come watch as you unravel in my tattoo studio?”

you audibly moaned at the idea, having his brother watch as you were fucked senseless. He slowly started moving his hips, his thrusts hard and deep, his pace quickening slowly.

“yeah ya like that idea, huh? well, sugar, you’ll cum when i cum, got it?”

you nodded quickly, your mind already numb. he started to pick up the pace, his cock just kissing your cervix so beautifully. the heat in your abdomen builds up quicker than before, and wants to be released, but not until atsumu was ready. you made sure to hold on, moans now cascading past the makeshift gag, not caring about who heard you. atsumu adored it. he revelled in the fact he could make you feel this way. he was getting close too, he couldn’t help it when you looked and sounded so exquisite beneath him. if he could keep you like this, he would.

he saw tears running down the side of your cheeks and kissed them away, as he whispered about how much of a good girl you are for him.

“...inside? can i cum inside?”

you heard him say, almost whimpering into your ear, and you nodded, hoping he got the message. he leaned his arm next to your head to keep him up, looking you in your eye.

“ya gonna cream on my cock before i cum, okay? need to feel you cum on me.”

you needed nothing more than to look into his eyes as you felt yourself let go, electricity flowing to all ends of your body as you came on his cock, clenching down on him so hard he couldn’t help but grip your hair tighter, fucking you through your orgasm. your poor overstimulated pussy was still being used to milk his cock, and you wanted nothing more than to have him cum inside you. you pulled him closer to you, your lips barely touching.

“please cum inside me ‘tsumu.”

he came right on the spot, his body spasming as he fucked his load into you, never breaking eye contact as he whimpered slightly, feeling you clench around his now sensitive cock. 

“fuck, you’re amazing.” 

he breathed out as he layed his head in your neck, trying to catch your breath. your hands trailed up his arms, slowly drawing shapes on them, trying to catch your breath as well. 

“you’re not to bad yourself ‘tsumu.”

you liked the way the nickname rolled off your tongue, and he enjoyed hearing you say it. He slowly leaned up, pulling out of you before quickly running to get something to clean you off with. he clean you off diligently, watching not to touch you too roughly and he cleaned himself off. you then both, got dressed and sat down for a second.

“so, do ya wanna schedule another appointment for the tattoo?”

you smirked as you leaned back on your arms.

“if it means seeing you again, i’ll make sure you’re fully booked.”

all works belong to @cpidsworld ! Do not claim as own or reupload without permission!!

tags: @tojiisadilfsposts @honeybuzzzzzz @lifeandtimesofpineapplehead @kuroosluthoe @aelrinv @justanothernpcartist @kvlfodusud @thisbicc @elavin @getwaves @loser1305 @sociopath0208 @alienvarmint @astennu @lomons @selfconcitedslut @malxoxo @mhasoftcore @azuremyst99 @str4wb3rrycaoke @heavnlyseraph @cloud-lyy @emotional-zebra @ranhlovebot @hornyafmovingon @vicksobus @hellvua-viper @celiniverse @thebrownemo @kenny5673 @kryzi @defextsblog @mobbbb1 @natriae @onlyitachiis @mpregandmore @t3ng3ns-s1ut @loumoon12 @honeyyy-vee @senpaisbadass @yung-usOpp @coffee-addict-32 @animerules-15 @honey-teaaaaaaaa

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq atsumu #miya atsumu #atsumu x female reader #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #miya astumu #atsumu miya #haikyuu atsumu #osamu miya #tw.breeding #tw.choking #tw.nsfw #smut #vex writes spicy

[luvsuperboard]

stranger

pairing: idol!hyunjin x photographer!f.reader

contains: smut, cursing, hyunjin being jealous of felix, orgasm denial, edging, pet names (darling, love, toy), unexpected end?? clue: it’s in the pictures.

note: don’t really like this but i wanted to post something T-T it’s also inspired in imagination because who doesn’t love the secret relationship trope?! btw sorry if there’s any spelling errors :(

—

the sounds of the way his hips collided with your skin and your moans were the only ones rumbling in the small room where the mess started. atrocities were the only things the stranger behind you would say every time he entered your pussy, every time he touched and felt you. is it weird that hearing him say such things makes you go crazy? your mind went blurry, the rhythm of his thrusts was getting faster and faster, rougher and more memorable. this moment will be tattooed in your mind for a long time now. let's hope it reminds you of the reason why you should behave when it comes to this stranger. “don't.” hyunjin felt how your walls began to suck his dick deeper into you, clenching and implying that your orgasm was close. he took his length out of your wet hole making you sigh, it frustrated you to feel empty after being so close.

his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and letting your back rest on the door where your cheek had been glued on. your chest felt heavy, he was edging you, you didn't even realize that his teasing did have an impact on you and your watery eyes were proof of it. he had always been like this, he knew he had you in his hand’s palm, he had involved you in his game, so it was not uncommon to see him try to cause your annoyance. after all, what were you going to do about it? “what happened, darling? don’t wanna play anymore?” it surprised you how he sounded so calm and relaxed. as if I hadn't been fucking you for what it felt like hours so now... oh right, he wasn’t the one being edged. the smirk on his face said everything; although, according to him, he was punishing you for “not behaving”, he was clearly enjoying it.

there was nothing better for him than to see how your back arched, how your body squirmed while being sensitive. seeing you cock drunk, sicking his touch and then take the pleasure away from you. he liked to make you dizzy, make you upset, see you beg and practically cry over his cock. wait, why do we call him a stranger though? ok so. your job is simple, you receive models or artists and take pictures of them for events, promotions, magazines, etc. that being said, it would be very rare to call him something else that wasn’t stranger, because if so, you’d get attached. after all, you weren’t lying, he was just one of the many celebrities you took pictures of, what special quality could he have for you to call him other way?

blah blah you know, let’s just call it a fuck buddies situation and “we ain’t official cuz you’re an idol and im a photographer and omg the world is against us and can’t be together” typa thing…… ?????? for example, did you wear a shorter skirt than usual to work? no problem! that stranger who carefully observed every move you made and who coincidentally always made excuses to go to the photography studio, will be there to tell you that you have limits—created by him.

jealous that someone other than him could have the privilege of seeing you wearing such a thing? pft of course not. what about all those times when a strange car would pick you up from work when, according to you, you weren't in anything or with anyone? well, maybe someone was making that a habit to get to know you better.

in a few words; hyunjin + you = confusing situation.

the guy was nothing to you, obviously there can’t be nothing between a simple photographer and an idol, right? well, that question was going through your mind now, but to think that you have nothing more and nothing less than hwang hyunjin himself destroying you, shook it somewhere else. “hyunjin... please” mhm, as if a dumb phrase like that one would make him take pity on you.

or will it work?

surprise! no.

although yes, hyunjin is and has always been the romantic and sweet type when it comes to having some kind of love relationships; that does not take away from the fact that he is quite ahem possessive. his chest went up and down as he breathed heavily, the veins on his neck popping out, jaw clenched, offended by your request. wasn't it enough for you? first you make him jealous then you have the guts to ask him for more? he didn't listen to you and attacked your neck with licks and bites, his warm breath tickling your skin. he noticed you started to play with his hair though “can’t control your hands neither?” he said and put your hands aside. his words were firm, voice deep, raspy.

you had no choice but to bite your fist, muffling the moans that escaped your lips unconsciously. “‘oh felix, there's no problem with this! oh felix, don't worry about that!’” hyunjin said, mocking how you were talking to felix earlier. "tsk, pathetic" he spat as his lips went down to your collarbone, hands firm on your hips, keeping you pinned to the door. just a few minutes ago he was inside you, length touching that sweet spot that made you lose your sanity. but you forgot you made him jealous, you had broken the rules –although the comment you made to felix was stupid and harmless– and hyunjin was going to make you feel like shit about it.

“should we open the door? show your cute little felix how desperate you are, hmm?” his tip had been in contact with your entrance, teasing your clit with just the tip, driving you crazy. if he continued you’d come right away “thought i didn’t see how you blushed? too bad, darling. i saw too much.”

what did he expect tho, for you to see the lee felix SHIRTLESS, and have no reaction? cmon now.

they were in the studio, the two boys mentioned before were getting ready for a photoshoot in collaboration with cosmopolitan, and since you saw them –especially felix for some reason– you didn't stop complimenting their outfits and style for the occasion. “really? ‘wow felix that looks so good on you!’”he imitated you mockingly and with an annoying tone. it was squeaky. you began to regret making him jealous, but you quickly reconsidered when he bit your neck once again, making you moan in pleasure “god, y/n. fucking embarrassing.” at this point you accepted you lowkey liked this side of him.

“shit- hyunjin, please!” you managed to talk after containing your breath, what you do when you’re nervous, especially when it comes to him. “please what, darling?” you felt him smirk against your neck, you were giving him what he liked the most, which was seeing you beg “if you want me to do something you must ask for it properly, don't you think?”

“please! hyunjin, i wont- it wont happen again” you didn't convince him, instead he growled against your skin, rolling his eyes. yes, you couldn't see his face clearly due the room being dark, but you still could tell he had that typical judgmental face. “i said, what do you want. go ahead and tell me, y/n” he said and continued to click his tongue, his jaw tense and eyes staring at your lips, waiting for the long-awaited phrase to come out of these.

looking up at him with watery eyes, you swallowed “fuck, hyunjin i need you inside me, i want you and only you right now, i need your cock, can you pleas-” and finally your requests worked before you could even finish the sentence. his cock made its way back to your core, you moaned at the feeling of him fucking you again, walls hugging him tightly. it shocked you how after all the times you had been like this with him, his cock’s size inside you was still surprising.

“there we go, look at you being nice. wasn’t that hard, was it?” he began with slow thrusts, finding that familiar spot that made you lose it all. he softly slapped your cheek after talking “respond before I get bored and leave, love. maybe felix could come and replace me...” he said it in order to blackmail you but actually, leave you? hell no, and even less when you had obeyed his orders. let's say he said it to add more tension into the situation, since he knew you would just give up and beg. “it was easy! it was easy h-hyunjin…” he was satisfied enough to now focus on your pleasure and planted a long kiss right behind your ear after hearing you.

how unpredictable, first he destroys you and then makes you feel like a queen... ok not so much like a queen because you're going to see what the guy is going to say next, but yea he was being nicer.

“my cute toy, letting me do whatever i want to you” he kept kissing you neck until he pulled away and looked at you “hope you've learned,” he said, warning you, “remember that this little thing saves everything we did here, okay?” he stroked your cheek while smiling. “but don't worry, love” he put the tiny camera in his back pocket to continue to thrust into you “i don’t think felix wants to see that i’m the only one allowed to fuck you, and fuck you this good” this guy's ego was incredible.

you we’re definitely going to make him jealous again, oh and you were definitely going to try to take a look at that video…

#hyunjin #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #skz #skz smut #stray kids smut

[gardenschedule]

Paul trying and sometimes failing to be chill about Yoko

“I told John on the phone the other day that at the beginning of last year I was annoyed with him. I was jealous because of Yoko, and afraid about the break-up of a great musical partnership.”

1970, Paul to Ray Connolly in the Evening Standard

I’d been able to accept Yoko in the studio, sitting on a blanket in front of my amp. I’d worked hard to come to terms with that. But then when we broke up and everyone was now flailing around, John turned nasty. I don’t really understand why. Maybe because we grew up in Liverpool, where it was always good to get in the first punch of a fight.

The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present

"It just became impossible for me to work with Yoko sitting there watching us," says Paul. "I wanted to write simple things like 'I love you girl' and every time I knew she was listening I felt I had to come out with someone clever and avant garde! "I'm not blaming Yoko -- I'm blaming me. It was no more John's fault for falling in love with Yoko than it was mine for falling in love with Linda. It just meant that we didn't work together anymore. We tried but it didn't work."

Paul McCartney, in his first magazine interview since the split, tells FLIP's Keith Altham... "THE BEATLES ARE FINISHED!"

We didn’t accept Yoko totally, but like I say, how many groups do you know, these days [who would]? I mean, it’s a joke. It’s like Spinal Tap! I mean, it’s Spinal Tap! A joke!

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

And in John’s thing, you know, when as – you obviously know – he was going through a lot of pain when he said a lot of that stuff. And he felt that we were, um, being kind of vindictive towards him and Yoko. In actual fact I just answered a question on an American TV thing – I think we were quite good, looking back on it, and knowing people in life. Many people would’ve just downed tools with a situation like that and just have said: “Look man, she’s not sitting on our amps while we’re making a film.” I mean, that wouldn’t be unheard of. I mean, Sean Penn... do you know what I mean? Most people would just say, “We’re not having this person here. Don’t care how much you love her.”

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

I’ve already mentioned how in September 1969 we were in a meeting and talking about future plans, and John said, ‘Well, I’m not doing it. I’m leaving. Bye.’ In the ensuing moments, he was giggling and saying how this felt really thrilling, like telling someone you’re going to divorce them and then laughing. At the time, obviously, that was wildly hurtful. Talk about a knockout blow. You’re lying on the canvas, and he’s giggling and telling you how good it feels to have just knocked you out. It took a while, but I suppose I eventually got with the programme. This was my best mate from my youth, the collaborator with whom I’d done some of the best work of the twentieth century (he said, modestly). If he fell in love with this woman, what did that have to do with me? Not only did I have to let him do it, but I had to admire him for doing it. That was the position I eventually reached. There was nothing else I could do but be cool with it.

Paul McCartney, on “Get Back”. In The Lyrics (2021).

MANSFIELD: But, you know, [after John showed me the pictures of himself and Yoko nude for the album cover of Two Virgins], I asked Paul about this. And this, to me, is indicative of their relationship, maybe as much as anything I [had] ever heard. I said, “Paul, you know, what do you think about this?” And Paul says, “I don’t know.” He said, “I don’t really agree with John. But I just am going to figure that John’s ahead of me on this, and that someday I’ll understand and I’ll catch up. So, you know, I’m okay.” ROSEN: And what did that reaction tell you about their relationship? MANSFIELD: That it was an extremely deep relationship.

Ken Mansfield (record label executive and Apple Records U.S. manager), interview w/ James Rosen for Fox News. (December 4th-5th, 2007)

John and Yoko had to visit Sir Joseph Lockwood of EMI with the nude photos to ensure that he would allow their use and there wouldn’t be any censorship problems. Although he personally didn’t like the album or photographs, Paul accompanied the two of them to their meeting. Sir Joseph thought that the fans would be outraged and the Beatles’ reputation would be damaged, but Yoko told him: ‘It’s art.’ Lockwood said: ‘Well, I should find some better bodies to put on the cover than your two. They’re not very attractive. Paul McCartney would look better naked than you.”

The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia by Bill Harry. (also... rekt lmao)

So that – I think, in order to kind of say to Yoko, “Look, my life is now yours,” he had to say things like, “The Beatles were bastards, we were total jerks, we never wrote anything good…” Which I think was rubbish, basically. And as I say, you have to realize that some of that time he was on heroin – so he’s not going to be just talking absolutely lucidly all the time, there. Some of the times, he was having other sorts of problems…

1989, Paul

And I think we would all have continued the Beatles, but Yoko came along, John fell wildly in love with her, he needed a big, big change in his life and he got it! He came to live in New York, he kind of threw over all his English [pause] contacts and everything. And, you know, can’t blame him! If that’s what he wants to do in his life! So we had to kind of, fade into the background to allow them to have their relationship. What were we gonna do, ringin’ him up? ‘Hey John, you know, hey, come and see me! Leave Yoko!’ No, that obviously never gonna happen. [pause] See, you had to let him do what he wanted, and he- he did you know… And he enjoyed it.

Paul McCartney on John’s early 70′s attacks as a sign of his feelings towards him. Interviewed by Bob Costa, 1991.

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

PAUL: ‘Cause she’s very much to do with it from John’s angle, that’s the thing, you know. And I – the thing is that I – there’s— Again, like, there’s always only two answers. One is to fight it, and fight her, and try and get The Beatles back to four people without Yoko, and sort of ask her to sit down at the board meetings. Or else, the other thing is to just realize that she’s there, you know. And he’s not gonna sort of – split with her, just for our sakes.

Twickenham, January 13th, 1969

PAUL: Yeah, see, that’s the thing. The only one time we’ve actually done it, she’s agreed. She really is alright. It’s like, it’s the thought of her being there when some of— [faltering] And then you don’t talk to John, so then he doesn’t talk to you, you know. And it’s like, you can screw it up just as much because she’s there, as – as John’s relying on her because she’s there. So that’s the thing. You know, but I mean, like, you’ll notice, if John – if you’re onto a beam with John about something, then he really isn’t, you know, he really won’t let Yoko talk about it. Because he knows when you’re on a beam, and he knows about it, and you’ll – you can talk straighter to him.

Twickenham, January 13th, 1969

‘All new wives don’t like their husband’s old friends or cronies,’ he replies. ‘I don’t think [Yoko] liked Paul. I think Paul was ready to like Yoko. Maybe she saw Paul as a threat. It was a partnership. The partnership should have been John and Yoko, not John and Paul. I am not saying it was a deliberate process, but it was a natural process. John had a new partner: she. Yoko Ono. It was going to be John and Yoko’s songs and not Paul and John’s songs.’

Don Short (newsman), c/o Sandra Shevey, The Other Side of Lennon.(1990)

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Michael Lindsay-Hogg (filmmaker), Luck and Circumstance: A Coming of Age in Hollywood, New York, and Points Beyond. (2011)

“Paul, in his usual way, tried to be the nice guy and was open-minded about John’s weird choice,” says Brown. “He invited them to stay at [his house in] Cavendish Avenue for a while.” The day after Cynthia’s return, they moved into the second-floor guest bedroom and made themselves at home. “But the problem was that Yoko wasn’t a very warm person—not even able to say thank you in response to anything Paul did for them. And he went miles out of his way to make them feel welcome, being a nice guy. So that didn’t last very long.”

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

Examples of failure to be chill:

PAUL: But it’s just funny to sort of realise that after this is all over, you’ll be off in a black bag somewhere – on the Albert Hall, you know. JOHN: Yes. PAUL: And sort of doing shows and stuff, and you know, digging— JOHN: Yeah, but I— PAUL: —digging that thing of it.

January 25th, 1969 (Apple Studios, London)

Yoko had evidently approached Paul McCartney about appearing in the film, as the Beatles' road manager Mal Evans penned in his diary: "PAUL HAS APPOINTMENT WITH JAPANESE LADY WHO WANTS TO PHOTOGRAPH HIS BOTTOM." Presumably Paul declined, and one must wonder if the same invitation might have been extended to John.

Chip Madinger, Lennonology Volume 1: Strange Days Indeed. (2015) (note: unforgivable rudeness on Paul's part to both Yoko and all of us who would have benefited from him featuring in "Bottoms")

“I was in India meditating about the album, when it suddenly hit me. I wrote Yoko telling her that I planned to have her in the nude on the cover. She was quite surprised, but nowhere near as much as George and Paul. “Paul gave me long lectures about it, and said ‘Is there really any need for this? ‘It took me five months to persuade them.

NEW MUSICAL EXPRESS, JUNE 7, 1969

He wasn’t happy. But the big things that were driving him mad were beyond me. He kept on working and writing, but when John came over, all he could talk about was how much he loved Yoko. That disturbed Paul. In spite of John’s obvious happiness, Paul stifled his jealousy with not-very-cute bursts of racist crap.

Francie Schwartz - Body Count

John & Yoko's perspective:

It’s the same. You can quote Paul, it’s probably in the papers, he said it many times at first he hated Yoko and then he got to like her. But, it’s too late for me. I’m for Yoko. Why should she take that kind of shit from those people? They were writing about her looking miserable in the Let It Be film, but you sit through 60 sessions with the most bigheaded, up-tight people on earth and see what its fuckin’ like and be insulted — just because you love someone — and George, shit, insulted her right to her face in the Apple office at the beginning, just being ‘straight-forward,’ you know that game of ‘I’m going to be up front,’ because this is what we’ve heard and Dylan and a few people said she’d got a lousy name in New York, and you give off bad vibes. That’s what George said to her! And we both sat through it. I didn’t hit him, I don’t know why.

I was always hoping that they would come around. I couldn’t believe it, and they all sat there with their wives, like a fucking jury and judged us and the only thing I did was write that piece (Rolling Stone, April 16th, 1970) about “some of our beast friends” in my usual way — because I was never honest enough, I always had to write in that gobbly-gook — and that’s what they did to us.

Ringo was all right, so was Maureen, but the other two really gave it to us. I’ll never forgive them, I don’t care what fuckin’ shit about Hare Krishna and God and Paul with his “Well, I’ve changed me mind.” I can’t forgive ’em for that, really. Although I can’t help still loving them either.

John Lennon: The Rolling Stone Interview, Part One

JOHN: But I understand how they felt, because if it had been Paul or George and Ringo that had fallen in love with somebody and gotten totally involved, suddenly… It wasn’t like, you know, somebody – George coming in and saying, “I’m going to work with Eric Clapton in a band now, and screw you.” It wasn’t that kind of thing at all. It was just suddenly this involvement.

December 6th, 1980: Andy Peebles talks to John and Yoko

“Lennon stated that “there’s some underlying thing about Yoko in [Get Back]”, saying that McCartney looked at Yoko Ono in the studio every time he sang “Get back to where you once belonged””

David Sheff, All We are Saying: The Last Major Interview with John Lennon and Yoko Ono

TRYNKA: ‘The Ballad of John And Yoko’, with Paul playing drums and bass, seemed like Paul’s tribute to you. Was that the case? YOKO: Yeah. I thought that was beautiful. Paul was trying to be diplomatic about the situation, try to make it well... He meant well. There were other instances where he’d do things that were meant well.

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Paul Trynka for MOJO. (May, 2003)

YOKO: Even now, I just read that Paul said, “I understand that he wants to be with her, but why does he have to be with her all the time?” JOHN: Yoko, do you still have to carry that cross? That was years ago. YOKO: No, no, no. He said it recently. I mean, what happened with John is that I sort of went to bed with this guy that I liked and suddenly the next morning I see these three guys standing there with resentful eyes. SHEFF: Do you think that kind of attitude from people was also jealousy? JOHN: It’s a kind of jealousy. People can’t stand people being in love. They absolutely can’t stand it. They want to pull you down in the hole they’re in.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

‘He wanted me to be part of the group,’ Yoko says. ‘He created the group, so he thought the others should accept that. I didn’t particularly want to be part of them… I couldn’t see how I would fit in, but John was certain I would. He kept saying, ‘They’re very sensitive … Paul is into Stockhausen… They can do your thing…’ He thought the other Beatles would go for it; he was trying to persuade me.’”

Philip Norman’s 2008 biography Lennon

After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Revolution Chaos Tape – Yoko Ono, June 4, 1968

"The line [the walrus was Paul] was put in partly because I was feeling guilty because I was with Yoko and I was leaving Paul. It's a very perverse way of saying to Paul: 'here, have this crumb, this illusion, this stroke - because I'm leaving.'" -John

Playboy, 1980

JOHN: And throwing in the line “the Walrus was Paul” just to confuse everybody a bit more. And because I felt slightly guilty because I’d got Yoko, and he’d got nothing, and I was gonna quit. [laughs; bleak] And so I thought ‘Walrus’ has now become [in] meaning, “I am the one.” It didn’t mean that in the song, originally. It just meant I’m the – it could have been I’m the – “I’m The Fox Terrier,” you know. I mean, it’s just a bit of poetry.

August, 1980: John talks to Playboy writer David Sheff about ‘Glass Onion’.

“Still, the real reason that people disliked Yoko was because she ordered them about and sent them on errands in a particularly rude way; she was brought up with servants, and that’s how she treated the staff of Apple. George found it particularly galling that she never gave the Beatles their definite article. He told me, ‘She would say, “Beatles do this” and “Beatles do that”, and we would say, “Uh, it’s the Beatles actually, love.” She’d look at you and say, “Beatles do this.”’ And he laughed and shrugged his shoulders. Whether Yoko was ever aware of the disruption her presence caused to the Beatles’ working practices I don’t know. Some people thought she was so involved in her own work and self-interest that she didn’t notice; others thought that it was a deliberate ploy to separate John off from the others.”

Barry Miles, The Zapple Diaries. (2015)

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #he could only play nice for so long #the bag thing pissed him off too much

[linos-luna]

This is what you like right? ❣️🔪

Dom! Lee Know x Fem!Reader (+switch!Bangchan)

Warnings: 18+ , d/s dynamic , oral(male receiving) , face fucking , hair pulling, pet names

Synopsis: Minho gets jealous easily and sees you hanging out with his close friend. He wants to make it very clear who you belong to, even if it means giving his friend more than what he asked for…

————————————————————————

It was a fairly slow day and you were hanging out in Chan’s studio. He had wanted to show you some music he was working on and at some point you both were having a little snack. You were drinking from a juice box he gave you and he was eating some crackers. You were also sitting on the desk while drinking, continuing to talk with Chan.

However, he wasn’t exactly focused on what you were saying. Chan has always had a little crush on you, even before you started dating Minho. Of course he’d never act on it; He’d never do that to his friend. Although sometimes he’d catch himself staring and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about you often. Sometimes he felt perverted for thinking like that. However, today was different.

You had on one of Minho’s hoodies and skinny jeans which really showed the figure of your thighs. As you were sipping away at the juice box and talking, he would nod at whatever you were saying and lightly touch your thigh, unable to help himself. You were completely oblivious to it. Chan rested his hand there and continued looking at you. To him, this wasn’t anything bad and you seemed okay with it. However, someone else wasn’t.

Your boyfriend had been watching. He was at the door. It wasn’t closed all the way and he was quiet to observe what was going on. He finally entered when he saw his friend lightly rub your thigh again, not enough to get your attention but still enough to make him mad.

Minho walked right up to you two with his arms crossed. Chan was facing away from the door so he didn’t even notice until you said something.

“Hi oppa.” You said with a sweet smile. This caused chan to spin around quickly.

“Hi baby… what are you up to?” He asked casually, looking to Chan. “And what are you up to, hyung?”

Minho raised his brow at Chan, clearly suspicious of him and chan knew exactly what his was getting at.

“I’m just talking to y/n” chan said with a shrug.

“Oh really?” Minho stood with his arms still crossed.

“Hey man… I’d never do that to you. Nothing’s going on.” Chan said with a shake of the head.

You were a bit confused and Minho suddenly pulled you to your feet.

“Not satisfied with looking at her anymore?” He said bluntly. “You just have to touch her?!”

Chan, still sitting on the desk chair was looking up at him, continuing to shake his head. He wasn’t really sure what to say.

“I know you’ve been watching her. I always catch you staring.” Minho made his way to the couch behind them and took a seat, motioning for you to come over. You went over a bit confused and Minho situated you on your knees between his legs.

“Oppa…? What- ?”

“Quiet!” Minho cut you off, not even looking at you but eyes firmly on his friend.

Chan got up from his seat, clearly wanting to leave. “Listen… I’m sorry if it looked that way but I really didn’t…”

“Sit down.” Minho said calmly, cutting his friend off.

“Minho-”

“I said.. Sit down!” Minho said more sternly.

Chan sat back down, not exactly sure why he just listened to his younger friend.

Minho looked down at you and got himself comfortable. “Go ahead.”

You looked back at Chan then at him confused. “Oppa, are you-?”

Before you could finish the sentence he grabbed you by the jaw, now making eye contact. “Do you want to be a little brat now? When I tell you to do something, you do it.” He said this in a stern tone, looking at you then back at Chan. “Besides, I think my hyung wants a front row seat…”

Chan sat there uncomfortably shuffling in his seat while your boyfriend let go of your jaw and you started undoing his pants zipper then lowering his pants and boxers before pulling out his hard dick.

Minho gave you a nod of approval and you started sucking on his tip, causing him to groan. Soon you took his whole length in your mouth. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily.

“I know you love the noises she makes…” Minho said with his eyes still closed, throwing his head back. “Oh hyung… I know you love my kitten’s sweet moans.”

Chan didn’t say anything but his pants grew uncomfortably tight, he touched himself over his pants but before he could go under his boxers Minho stopped him.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself!” He said suddenly, glaring at him. “You fuckin pervert… just watch like you always do. This is what you like right?!”

Minho was panting as you continued to suck him off while Chan was getting hot and frustrated, unable to touch himself as he watched you intently.

Minho decided to take it up a notch and grabbed onto your hair then thrusting, fucking your mouth to the point where you were nearly choking.

At this point chan was completely hard and even whining a bit as he watched you. You were so hot like this and he just wanted to touch himself but every time his hand went near his pants, Minho would shoot him a stern look.

“Min… Minho please…” Chan whined, knuckles white from gripping the seat.

Before he could finish, minho came in your mouth, letting out a nearly pornographic moan and you made sure to swallow.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Your boyfriend said breathing heavily.

“Minho… can I… can I please..” Chan wasn’t sure what to say. He just wanted some relief, he wanted to touch himself, or even you. He had to do something.

Your boyfriend gestured for you to go to Chan and you crawled over between his legs as he got up to walk behind his hyung.

Minho grabbed onto Chan’s shoulders, lowering himself to ear level. “You wanna touch her so bad, right hyung?”

Chan continued staring down at you, almost whimpering, while you just looked at him with a light smile.

“Maybe… I’ll let her help you out…” Minho said looking down at you.

You got the message and started undoing his zipper. Chan panicked a bit and Minho rubbed his shoulders. “Calm down hyung… I’m letting her help you. That’s what you wanted right? Right?!”

You pulled out his throbbing cock and rubbed it before giving light kitten licks. Chan started breathing heavily and your boyfriend gave you a nod of approval.

With that, you took his cock in your mouth. Chan started whimpering again then it turned into loud moaning before Minho covered his mouth. “Hyung, do you want to alert the whole building?!”

Chan closed his eyes trying to quiet himself but it was getting more and more difficult as you sucked and moaned.

Minho let go of Chan’s mouth and walked to his side as he noticed his hips lightly thrusting. “You like my girlfriend sucking you off?!” When he didn’t answer right away Minho grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. “Answer me!”

“Y-yes-“ Chan whimpered as it was obvious he was about to reach his high.

“You better fuckin enjoy that orgasam!” Your boyfriend said, still pulling him up by the hair. “Because that’s the only one you’re going to get. This is the only time you’ll ever have my girlfriend touch you! You’ll never touch her again! Got it?!”

Chan couldn’t say anything, he only nodded. He was too far gone. Minho gestured for you to stop and you did, pulling away quickly.

“N-no Min! Min please! Don’t do this!” His fucked out expression looking between the both of you, you had to admit he was very hot in this moment, cheeks flushed, lips rosy red and eyes glassy along with his messy curly hair that Minho finally let go of. And here he was, practically begging for more.

“Oh hyung… so pathetic.” Minho said with false sympathy. He was pretty satisfied and allowed you to take Chan’s cock back in your mouth. He was back to bucking his hips and Minho watched as he finally came in your mouth, causing you to choke.

Chan sat there with his head hanging low, tired and still feeling overwhelmed by the experience while Minho was helping you up from the floor. He then pulled his friend up by the hair again and got really close.

“Never ever touch my girlfriend again” he said this in a low growl. “After this I don’t even want you to look at her…”

Chan nodded while looking at Minho. Your boyfriend continued staring at him until he lead you out of the studio and to the bathroom, locking the door. He then pinned you to the wall and started kissing up your neck.

“Kitten, you were such a good girl.” he said as he reached under your his hoodie, groping your breasts. “Such a good girl deserves a reward yes?”

“Mmhm” you replied softly, your back arching as he continued kissing up your neck and hand now palming your crotch over your jeans.

He stopped for a moment and looked at you. “Baby… don’t worry about Chan. He shouldn’t have been touching you earlier.”

“It’s okay, oppa” you replied, smiling sweetly.

He loved hearing that and gave you a kiss on the lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good when we get home…”

#stray kids #kpop #kpop imagines #stray kids smut #kpop smut #stray kids yandere #skz x reader #fanfic #kpop x reader #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #bang chan x reader #skz bang chan #bang chan #lee minho #skz #skz smut #stray kids imagines #lee know x reader #skz minho

[plant-acts]

Note to Self: You Are Allowed to Cry on the Floor

Linked Universe College Theater Fic

(2,060 words)

Summary:

In two weeks, Wind will be done with his first semester of college. In two weeks, Wind will finally be able to have a weekend for himself without rehearsals or studying. In two weeks, Wind will go home to see his best friend.

Wind thinks he will go insane before then.

-

OR: Sometimes the best advice comes from 5 tech majors relaxing on the studio floor.

(Ao3)

--

In two weeks, Wind will be done with his first semester of college. In two weeks, Wind will finally be able to have a weekend for himself without rehearsals or studying. In two weeks, Wind will go home to see his best friend.

Wind thinks he will go insane before then.

Christmas break could not come sooner. Actually, thinking about it now, time might be going slow out of spite. It knows he’s at his wit’s end and wants to see how far it can push him.

How fucking rude.

Every day feels like a new hill to climb. Time was out sick for a week, which meant nothing tech-wise was done because apparently, he holds all their common sense. Now that tech was working double time, Wind had fallen behind on learning his lines for the upcoming show, meaning he was staying up every night memorizing and because he was staying up every night, his grades were slipping.

In conclusion, he’d rather fight monsters in some fantasy world than be dual majoring theater right now; but that is impossible, so he might as well suck it up.

No one else seemed to have this problem. They all knew exactly what they were doing. Legend could memorize two shows at once, Warriors balanced school with a job, and Hyrule kept track of every show with no issues.

It wasn’t fair.

Wind felt moments away from drowning. Maybe that’s why they treated him like a kid. They knew he was just floundering around like a fish out of water.

He walked on autopilot, making his way to the studio theater. The tech meeting had started five minutes ago, and he wasn’t looking forward to being chewed out by Twilight. Wind was too proud to admit it, but the older man scared him. Not his personality, no. He was, as Malon put it, sweet as pie. But he looked as though he could snap someone in half if they were to get on his bad side.

Wind was standing in front of the door all too soon. He had to remind himself to take a deep breath. They aren’t a pack of wolves; they weren’t going to tear him apart limb for limb because he was late…well they might make him clean the prop loft, which would be equally bad.

Slowly, and with great bravery because Wind was so cool, he opened the door. What he did not expect to see was Twilight, Wild, two of the quadruplets, and Hyrule lying on the floor, staring up at LED lights as they softly shifted through the colors of the rainbow. Yet that’s what greeted him.

Was this the sign of a mental break? Were they hallucinating? Did only eating microwave noodles finally take its toll on them? Warriors always said it would, but he never believed him.

Twilight waved him over. He didn’t seem mad, which was a good sign.

“What’s going on? Is this some theater cult thing?” Wind was pretty sure it was.

From the middle of the group, Hyrule spoke up, “We’re de-stressing.”

Ah, that made more sense.

“Lay down.” Twilight patted the space next to him.

Wind would never pass up a lazy day, so he walked over and lowered himself to the floor. Laying back, his hands rested on his stomach as he watched the shifting colors above him. They moved slowly, going from one side of the theater to the other. It was nice. The other’s soft breathing was the only sound in the room.

His mind wandered again. He didn’t have time to relax. He still had to finish learning lines and catch up on work, and the set was only half finished. A tight feeling formed in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t good enough to be lying here with people who have it all together? The bright colors seemed to mock him now. How dare they be so happy and warm when he felt like his spark was slowly dying.

Before he could stop himself, he interrupted the calm atmosphere.

“Does it always feel like this?”

Wild let out a small laugh. “The ground? Well yeah, it’s solid concrete.” He knocked next to him for emphasis.

“No.” Wind took a shaky breath. “This overwhelming. Does college always feel like it’s one step ahead of you? Like no matter what, you’ll never be as good as everyone else.”

The room felt suffocatingly quiet.

Gilt curled in his gut. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice gave a pathetic crack.

He just had to open his big mouth, huh? Everyone was trying to de-stress, and here Wind was putting his problems out in the open. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Was he really about to cry like a baby in front of the others?

Twilight turned over. He could feel the older boy’s eyes burning into the side of his head.

 “Are you ok?”

There it was. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Wind’s breathing stuttered as the tears flowed. “I’m trying my best. I promise.” Fuck being strong. All he wanted to do was cry until he fell asleep. So much was bottled up in only a few weeks that he felt like he was overflowing.

Someone grabbed his hand, rubbing small circles into his knuckles. “Take a breath, kiddo.” It was Hyrule. He recognized that strange accent anywhere.

Through his wet lashes and blurring colors, he could make out Wild walking over to sit next to him. “Do you want us to get Wars?”

Wind shook his head, probably a little too fast. Absolutely, in no world whatsoever, would he want his brother to see him crying on the theater floor. He would rather drink straight salt water, thank you very much.

“Alright, alright, we won’t get him, but do you want to talk about it?”

Did he? Would they think he’s weak? If he told them, would they see him as some irresponsible teen who shouldn’t be there? They would never trust him with anything important, but on the other hand, what if they could help? They might know the secret to surviving college.

Wind decided to trust them. “I just-I’m so tired.” He glanced at everyone. Hyrule was beside him, holding his hand with Twilight slightly behind him, while Wild was on the other side. The other two hung back. They had never been the best at comforting people. “You all seem to have it together, and I have no clue what I’m doing. I feel like every time I make progress on schoolwork something happens and I’m even more behind than I was. How do you do it? How are you able to do so much?”

Unsurprisingly, it was Twilight who spoke first, “Well, for one, we absolutely don’t have it together. We’re a theater department. We just know how to fake it till we make it.”

Hyrule nodded. “I know it’s rough right now, but eventually you will fall into a rhythm, and it will be second nature, kinda like high school. At first, you have no clue what’s going on, but after a year, you become a pro.”

He’s got a point. High school felt huge, and there were so many expectations. Freshman year was spent trying to figure out who you are, and more importantly, how to navigate the halls. The following years, although still challenging, slowly became easier.

“Yeah,” That was one of the quadruplets, Wind could never tell them apart. “The first semester of college is rough. Everything is new and confusing. Hell, I almost failed all my classes, so you’re not alone.” Scratch that, this was totally Vio. Blue would eat rocks before failing a class.

“You’ve gone your whole semester without almost dying. That’s already better than I did.”

He couldn’t help the watery chuckle that escaped at the others’ incredulous looks towards Wild.

Blue pat the younger boy’s shoulder, “Moving on. Give yourself some credit, dual majoring isn’t easy. It’s almost twice the classes. I’m surprised you weren’t burned out sooner.”

Wind shrugged. “What can I say? I’m just built different.”

“When was the last time you took some time for yourself?”

Uh oh, now Twilight was starting to sound like his parents. Time and Malon were very insistent that their students put their health before classes.

“Um, it’s been a busy few weeks.” Twilight opened his mouth, but Wind cut him off. “I know it’s not healthy, but I need to be in good standing with my teachers. I’m not going to be that actor or technician who never shows up and I’m sure as hell not going to get into the habit of skipping classes."

“There is a difference between not showing up because you’re lazy, and not showing up because you need to help yourself.” Hyrule gave him a stern look. “If you need a break, take one before your body makes you. Remember when Legend did two shows at the same time? He ended up getting sick right after closing night because he hadn’t been taking care of himself.” Why did Wind have to get stuck in a room with the mother hens of the group, even if they were completely right?

Twilight must have a third eye for people who don’t want to take a break because he just smiled. “You know what? This has been a productive meeting, and we all have been working hard lately. I’m going to let us head home early.”

Laying back, Wild put his hands behind his head. “Sounds good to me!”

“Guys please.” Now Wind was getting annoyed. They were treating him like a kid again. This is exactly what he was scared of happening. “I’m not stupid. The set needs to be finished and we’re already behind. We can’t all leave because I’m a little tired.”

“It’s not just about you, I know most of us haven’t gotten more than 5 hours of sleep in the past week. We’ll just come in during the weekend and do some work. I bet we can even get Time to fire up the grill and make hotdogs. It can be a theater major workday.” Curse Twilight for making coming to the college on an off-day sound fun.

“Um, won’t that defeat the entire purpose of rest?” Never mind, Blue just had to ruin the idea with his common sense.

“Maybe, but at least we can get some good sleep today, and then everyone will help over the weekend instead of just the techs.” Vio is the best quadruplet hands down, for the moment at least. That opinion is subject to change whenever convenient.

The others continued planning while Wind looked back up. The lights never stopped their colorful display. He was tired and stressed, but somehow felt more relieved than he had in months. No one judged him. Instead, they wanted to help. Who knew all he had to do was ask? Not all the worry was gone, and they were definitely going to be more watchful for the next few months, but at least he wasn’t alone. If his friends could figure college out, then he could too. Maybe his spark would even burn a little brighter.

Twilight pulled him from his thoughts. “Do you need a ride home?”

“Nah. War’s class should be ending soon and he can take me.” At least he thinks so. He had no clue how long he was lying on the floor having a pity party.

“Alright. Do you want to keep lying here until then?” Hyrule had a small smile, like he already knew the answer to the question.

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

Together, the tech majors laid back, lost in their own worlds as colors danced around the dark room. They were all exhausted and a mess, but at least no one was alone in feeling that way. It was just a theater kid thing.

-

It didn’t take longer than half an hour for Warriors to show up and the brothers to load into the car. Wind almost fell asleep against the window as they drove.

Damn everyone for being right that he needed sleep or something like that.

Neither talked for a long while until Wars glanced over and cleared his throat. “So, the boys tell me you’ve been stressed lately.”

Those fucking snitches.

#linked theater au #linked theater au fics #plants fics #linked universe #lu wind #lu twilight #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu blue #lu vio

[bratzforchris]

In your loving Luke headcanons post, you wrote that he gets stomach aches a lot. Can you write one where reader (gender neutral please) takes care of him :)? Thanks 💙

Stomach Aches

❃

Summary: Above

Pairing: Luke x gender neutral reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1004

A/N: thank you for the request!

❃

To say Luke had a sensitive stomach was an understatement. Just about everything gave the boy a tummy ache; stress, anxiety, too much coffee, traveling, eating something slightly different than usual, you name it. He knew it was more common for this to happen to autistic people, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him upset. 

“Ugh!” Luke huffed, frustrated tears coming to his eyes as he yanked off his headphones. 

He was currently sitting in his home studio, trying to work on a piano melody for Lie to Me, but it just wasn’t working the way he wanted. The chords sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now, and the whole song just seemed discordant and off. Luke had been in this room for over three hours, trying his best to get the song to work. 

Luke shook his hands, trying to shake the yucky feeling of being overstimulated from his body. it felt like the awful noises had sunken into his skin, settling deep inside his bones. Just as he was doing so, a sharp pain hit him just above his belly button and he whimpered. 

“Fuck.” he cried slightly, more from being overly frustrated than from the pain being unbearable. 

He needed to not overthink right now, so he pushed up from the piano bench and walked into the living room, rubbing his stomach softly. Luke curled up on the couch under a weighted blanket, flicking on the TV. The blond decided to watch Criminal Minds, both because it was his special interest show and would take his mind off the stress and because he needed something to distract him from the pain in his belly. 

One episode later, and Luke still wasn’t feeling better. If anything, the feeling had gone from just a belly ache to a sloshy, upset stomach. He groaned, tears pricking his eyes again. He wasn’t particularly sad, but he never handled pain well and he was already stressed to begin with. 

Luke slid a hair tie off his wrist and pulled his curls back, standing up with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. He trudged into the bathroom, looking in the medicine cabinet for some Pepto-Bismol. Much to his disappointment, he had run out last week and forgotten to get some more. Luke sat down on the bathroom floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, starting to cry. Everything was just building up today and it was becoming too much for him to handle alone. 

After fifteen minutes, the blond pulled himself off the floor and went into your shared connecting bedroom, grabbing his phone off the charger and his heating pad. He didn’t have the energy to go back downstairs, so he simply cuddled up in bed, pressing the heating pad to his tummy and sending you a quick text.

Luke: can you get more pepto on your way home please?

You tore your eyes away from the computer when your phone pinged at work, looking down at the message. You frowned when you saw it was Luke asking for meds. That couldn’t be good.

You: are you okay baby :(?

Luke: not really…

Luke: my stomach’s upset 

Your heart broke when you saw your boyfriend’s message. You knew how hard pain was for Luke, especially when he was by himself. You quickly gathered your things, sending him another text.

You: are you stressed love? or did you eat something that didn’t agree with you?

Luke: bad day

The last message was confirmation that you needed to go home to him. You could tell by Luke’s tone that he was starting to go nonverbal. You quickly made up a quick excuse about leaving work and dashed out to your car. You sped to the pharmacy and grabbed some Pepto-Bismol, as well as a ginger ale, for Luke. 

As soon as you were parked in your driveway, you ran into the house, looking for your boyfriend. The television was still on in the living room, but he was nowhere to be seen. You walked upstairs and into your bedroom, a sad sight meeting your eyes. 

Luke was curled up into a ball, hand resting on his stomach over the heating pad. “Hi.” he signed to you, telling you he was nonverbal. 

“Hi, honey, hi,” You cooed, sitting beside him on the bed. “Tummy bothering you again?”

The blond nodded pitifully, sniffling softly. “I feel yucky.” he told you, carefully tracing the letters into your palm. 

You kissed Luke’s forehead, running your hand through his curls. “I got you some medicine and a ginger ale if you’d like that.” You told him. 

Luke nodded, signing “please” to you. You could tell he felt absolutely awful by the way he was extremely quiet and cuddly, whining softly when you got up to fetch the pharmacy bag. You quickly poured him a little cup of the pink, viscous liquid and handed it to him. Luke threw his head back, taking the Pepto like a shot, before shuddering. 

“Want some ginger ale to wash it down?” You chuckled. 

Luke nodded gratefully, taking the bottle from your hands and taking a large swig. The blond paused, hiccuping and then belching, a strange look on his face. 

“Careful, honey. Small sips so you don’t get sick.” You told him. 

The blond handed the bottle back to you, patting the bed as an urge for you to come snuggle. You obliged, wrapping your arms around him so he could be the little spoon. Even though Luke wasn’t verbal at the moment, you knew him well enough to know what he needed at the moment. You snaked your arm over his waist, resting your hand on his soft little belly. 

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, love.” 

Luke whined, curling further into you. “Love you.” he signed into your skin. 

“I love you more, darling.” 

If you and Luke spent the rest of the afternoon with cuddles and tummy rubs, no one else had to know.

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfic #luke 5sos #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #5sos #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sos fanfic #calum hood #5sos fic #fanfic #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings fluff #calum 5sos #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sosfam #5sos x reader #5sos moodboard #5sos hq #the 5sos show tour #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos #5sos gifs

[parkerslatte]

Songbird || FIFTEEN

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: drug use

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Summary: The band begin their tour.

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•••

TRACK FIFTEEN;

SIP THE GOSSIP

…

: FOOTAGE FROM CAMILA DUNNE’S VIDEO CAMERA:

Camila: [gasps] Look, Jules, it’s Daddy. That’s so exciting. “Coming to a city near you this winter.”

…

KAREN SIRKO: Except it wasn’t true.

GRAHAM DUNNE: I mean, there was still no trace of her anywhere.

KAREN SIRKO: Didn’t show up for mixing, rehearsals…

Y/N L/N: I didn’t exactly know her really well at that point, but I tried to contact her, called around everywhere she had ever been, basically. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

WARREN ROJAS: Well, some of u couldn’t help but wonder if she was gone for good. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: And I think one of us was…probably hoping for that. 

…

The band were all sat together in the studio. Y/N sat with Karen, her guitar resting next to her. Eddie sat on the other side of Karen though he made no effort to be a part of the conversation. Y/N tried to convince herself that she didn’t care, but she was lying to herself. She was indeed a little happier; having some space from him to figure things out did her a lot of good. 

Eddie ignored her hurt in more ways than one, but what hurt her the most was Camila ignoring her. Every time she would try and talk, even now, she wouldn’t stick around the conversation long. Y/N missed her friend a lot. She missed the late-night talks they would have; she missed looking after Julia. Y/N just missed her best friend a lot. Warren did his best to keep her spirits up, but he wasn’t Camila; she couldn’t have the same conversations she had with Camila with Warren. But Y/N appreciated his efforts anyways. 

To the surprise of everyone, however, Daisy walked in the door. After disappearing off the face of the Earth for three weeks, everyone was surprised to see her. 

They all sat around together, laughing and enjoying their time until the laughter slowly died down as soon as Billy entered the room, his gaze locked on Daisy. Y/N looked between the two; you could cut the tension with a knife. Gently plucking at her guitar, Y/N looked down, not wanting to witness the argument that would surely break out. 

Billy stood by the microphone, “Let’s just run Aurora with that new intro we were kicking around.”

“So you want to start the set with ‘Aurora’?” Daisy questioned, looking at the setlist. 

“That’s what we decided, yeah.” Billy says.

“Interesting.” Daisy said. 

“Warren, when you’re ready.” Billy says, turning around.

“And these are the songs that you want to sing?” Daisy interrupted. 

“That’s right.” Billy says, annoyance lacing his tone.

“No ‘Regret Me’? No ‘Look at Us Now’?” 

“Well, if you wanted to weigh in the time for that was weeks ago, when we first stared rehearsing.” 

“Do you guys need a minute?” Karen asked.

“No,” Billy says forcefully, “Warren, count us in.”

“Yes, actually, we do.” Daisy says, spitting her gum onto the paper before walking out of the studio, Billy storming after her.

“You know what,” Y/N says, “I didn’t miss this.”

It wasn’t long before Billy stormed back into the studio, with Daisy following slowly behind him.

“It’s gonna be a long tour so if you’d prefer to sit this one out, please be my guest.” Billy says.

“There’s no tour without me, you dumb son of a bitch.” Daisy retorts before turning to the rest of the band, “We’re playing ‘Regret Me’.”

“Fine.” Billy says.

“And ‘Look at Us Now’.”

“No.” 

“Yes.”

“I said no, Daisy!” Billy exclaimed, “Warren, count us in, for the love of fucking God.”

Another person entered the studio before anyone had the chance to play. Y/N knew she didn’t like him immediately with how he presented himself, and everything about him was off.

“What’d I miss?” He asked. 

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Eddie asks on behalf of everyone.

“Everybody, this is Nicky,” Daisy introduces, “My husband.”

“Hi.” Nicky says.

“What the fuck?” Y/N exclaims. 

…

ROD REYES (tour manager): Managing The Six had somehow become the hottest gig in town. Billy never forgot what I’d done for him back in ‘71, so when he called me up, I jumped at the chance. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

Y/N L/N: Then we began the tour.

…

Y/N looked at the buses as she began walking to the front one. This was all she ever wanted; sure, her name wasn’t on the side of it, but she was still performing to thousands of people. Initially, Billy didn’t want Y/N’s song in the setlist, but after she fought him on it for weeks, the band pitching in to back her up, he finally caved. It was one song; it was never her favourite, but she still got to sing in front of a huge crowd. 

Camila stood, giving Warren a hug goodbye. Y/N slowed down her walking as she lingered around Camila. As Camila turned around, she looked at Y/N, and she smiled. That was all, she smiled. But Y/N wasn’t going to take that.

“Hey, Camila,” Y/N says, “What’s going on with you?”

“What?” Camia questions, “Nothing, I’ve just been tired with Julia and-”

“Camila, we haven’t spoken in weeks, I miss you.” Y/N says.

Camila looks down and pauses, “I’m sorry I’ve been distant but I’ve been dealing with some things.”

“You could have talked to me about it, Camila,” Y/N says, “You know I’m always here for you.”

Camila gripped Y/N’s hand, “I know.” Camila pulled Y/N into a hug, and Y/N gripped onto Camila. 

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” Camila says, pulling away from the hug. 

Y/N watched her walk away; nothing was really resolved between the two. As Y/N began to step up to the bus, she noticed Camila walk past Eddie with nothing more than a wave. Eddie’s eyes followed Camila as she walked away, and Y/N felt her heart drop. 

She continued the final steps on the bus, found a seat next to Warren, and rested her head on his shoulder. 

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” Y/N says. Warren didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push as Eddie stepped onto the bus taking a seat near Karen. 

Y/N didn’t notice, but his eyes were fixated on her the whole time before the bus pulled away, and his attention was drawn away.

…

WARREN ROJAS: Night one was in Albuquerque.

ROD REYES: See, you don’t start in New Your or LA, where the crowd is nothing but critics and suits. You want to start small, off-market, where you can get your sea legs under you, work out the kinks.

KAREN SIRKO: If I’m being honest, we were pretty sure Albuquerque would be a disaster…but it was fantastic.

Y/N L/N: That crowd was incredible; I was scared when I sang my song because it wasn’t the most popular on the album, but the crowd sang back with me; they sang to me. It was a feeling that I’d never experienced before, and it really made me forget about everything else.

…

Y/N slumped back after snorting a line from the table, and another drink was thrust into her hand. She laughed along with Graham as Daisy took the sunglasses from his face. Y/N never felt happier than she did at that moment. She danced as much as she could in the cramped tour bus, took many drugs, and drank more than she probably should have. Despite everything troubling her, Y/N felt happy and on top of the world. 

…

Y/N L/N: I don’t remember much from that night [laughs]. I just remember that it was a good night. 

ROD REYES: By Christmas, they had the number three song in the country and the number nine son in the country. We booked them on Bandstand, Midnight Special. There were rumours about Saturday Night Live. All the shows were selling out, new dates being added all the time.

…

As the bus began to come to a stop, Y/N looked out the window. People were crowing around the bus, holding up signs and yelling. Y/N even saw people holding signs dedicated to her, and her heart couldn’t feel fuller. The doors opened, and each member of the band walked out one by one. 

“All right, all right, take it easy,” Rod yells in the crowd, “Don’t make me bring out the big guns.”

“Y/N!” A girl yelled, holding out a piece of paper for her to sign. 

Taking the pen out of her hand, Y/N sighed the paper before moving on to the next person, then the next, then the next before her hand started to cramp. From around her, Y/N could hear many people trying to get her attention, and she was finding it hard to keep up. 

“She’s so pretty!” One voice shouted.

“I wouldn’t mind a piece of that.” A much deeper voice shouted, causing Y/N to grimace. 

“Y/N!” Another voice shouted, a much younger voice than the rest, and Y/N turned. 

A girl stood, and she couldn’t have been more than eleven. Y/N walked over to the girl. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Y/N says, ��What’s your name?”

“Sierra.” The girl says, obviously starstruck by her.

“Sierra,” Y/N repeated, “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” The girl said shyly. 

“Do you have anything you want me to sign?” Y/N says.

The girl shook her head, “No I just wanted to tell you that I look up to you and that I love your song In The Morning.”

Y/N smiled wide. No one had mentioned her music yet, which didn’t bother Y/N; she was on tour as a member of Daisy Jones and The Six, not a solo artist. But hearing the girl tell her that she loved her music made Y/N want to take over the stage at the next concert and perform alone. 

“That’s really kind of you to say,” Y/N says. 

“I want to be like you one day, I want to be a singer.” Sierra says.

“Really?” Y/N says, “Well, for starters the only thing you need to be is yourself and secondly, when you do make it, and that’s not an if, it’s a when, give me a call.”

Sierra smiled wide before she hugged Y/N. Security began to move forward, but Y/N shook her head. When Sierra pulled away, her smile bright, she stepped back into eh crowd, giving Y/N a wave. Y/N smiled as she watched the girl go. 

As Y/N turned back around, her heart stopped. Eddie was locking lips with a girl, and he looked like he had no intention of pulling away. Every happy emotion Y/N felt suddenly drained from her body.

“Eddie, come on get out of here.” Warren says, pulling Eddie away from the girl. 

As Eddie pulled away, he made eye contact with Y/N and looked away. The heartbreak on her face was something he would never get out of his mind. 

***

After the show that night, Y/N lounged on the bus with the band, minus Billy and Nicky and with every word that came out of his mouth, Y/N liked him less and less. 

“So, your face is like on money and shit?” Warren questioned.

Nicky chucked, “No, no, no.”

“So you’re not really a prince.” Eddie spoke. 

“It’s complicated.” Nicky says. 

“Well, do you have land or power?” Graham asked.

“Do you have a job?” Warren asked.

“I’m a student of life.” Nicky announces. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Y/N laughed. 

Everyone mocks Nicky, and Y/N can’t help but cackle as Nicky gets up and walks away.

“Bye professor.” Eddie calls out. 

“Fuck off.” Daisy says playfully.

“Do you have a degree?” Warren calls after him.

Once Nicky and Daisy were out of sight, Y/N’s laughter died down a little, “Okay it can’t only be me who hates him, right?”

“Nope, I agree.” Graham says, and everyone else begins to chime in with reasons why they don’t like Daisy’s husband.

…

ROD REYES: Let me tell you what it’s like to manage a rock band. We’re driving all over hell and creation, city to city, roadies and crew, the whole nine, and not one person -not one - ever asks how we’re always stocked up on gas. Or beery. Or the special tea Daisy likes that you can only get shipped in from Thailand. No one says ‘thank you’; no one notices a goddamn thing until something goes wrong.

…

The next night Y/N couldn’t sleep; she had been tossing and turning all night, and nothing would send her to sleep. Getting out of the cramped bunk, she tiptoed through the bus and opened the doors letting the cold air fill the bus. 

She stepped outside, the gravel digging into her feet. She lit a cigarette and took a long drag, sighing. The tour life had been a lot more tiring than she originally anticipated. Show to show, journey to journey, there was always something happening to distract Y/N from her feelings and thoughts plaguing her brain. 

As she stood alone in the dark, Y/N had a chance to think about everything she wished she could stop thinking about. She wanted the thoughts to disappear from her head completely. 

When Y/N was young, she swore to herself that she would never get caught up over a guy. She always believed that if she got caught up over a guy, she would realise that they just weren’t worth her time. But with Eddie, it was different. Eddie got her in a way no one else did. 

She missed his smile, she missed his laugh, she missed his touch. Everything about him, she missed. 

When Eddie tried to kiss her that night, Y/N’s emotions went into overdrive. She was drunk, high and full of adrenaline. While she was in that state, there was no way she could believe that Eddie liked her; there was no possible way he could have any woman he wanted with a flash of his smile. 

When Y/N suggested they just break off their friendship completely, she believed it would do her some good. She thought she could finally move on; if anything, it made her feel worse, especially when he was avoiding her. 

When she finally had this time to herself, Y/N began to put things into perspective and see the bigger picture. Everything with Eddie and Camila avoiding her couldn’t be a coincidence, but Y/N didn’t want to admit it to herself; it would only make her spiral more. 

As Y/N threw the butt of the cigarette to the floor, she let out a yawn. Climbing back aboard the bus and shutting the door, she silently returned to her bunk - directly above Eddie’s. As she lay down and shut her eyes, Y/N drifted into a dreamless sleep. 

***

The performance the following day, Y/N was highly ready for. She had taken more drugs before the show than usual and was excited to get out there. Her song was third in the setlist, and when the intro started, Y/N walked up to her microphone at the front of the stage. 

As she opened her mouth to begin singing, Billy’s voice echoed through the stadium. Y/N’s head snapped in his direction, shock clearly shown on her face. What the fuck? She thought. 

…

Y/N L/N: He sang my fucking song. The prick. 

GRAHAM DUNNE: None of us knew what to do, so we continued to play. I mean, the show must go on.

KAREN SIRKO: Y/N left the stage and didn’t return for the following few songs. 

Y/N L/N: Billy was angry at me for not performing two songs. He had nothing to be fucking angry about; he sang my song. 

…

“Y/N you have to get back out there.” Rod says to Y/N as she seethes in anger. 

“I’m not fucking sharing the stage with him.” Y/N yelled, “That’s my song, Rod! I am meant to be singing it with Daisy, not him. The entire show is basically about him.”

Rod sighed, “You have to go back out there.”

…

DAISY JONES: I don’t know what Billy was doing that night, but he sang Y/N’s song, and she was heartbroken about it. So I did all I could to fix the problem. 

…

The band walked off the stage, having their moment to breathe before Daisy and Eddie walked back on for ‘Two Against Three’. Y/N’s arms were folded as she glared daggers into the side of Billy’s head; she was beyond angry. 

“Y/N…” Karen says, trying to get her attention, but she ignores her; she ignores everything happening around her. 

“This song is usually a solo,” Daisy announced to the crowd, the crowd continuing to cheer, “And it still is, but it won’t be sang by me.”

The crowd silenced and waited in anticipation. 

“Please give a huge round of applause to our very own rhythm guitarist, Y/N L/N.” Daisy announced, and the crowd cheered. 

Y/N was stunned and didn’t start walking onto the stage until Karen gave her a slight push. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N mumbled into Daisy’s ear.

“Sing.” Was all Daisy said before leaving the stage.

Y/N stood up to the microphone as Eddie began to play the guitar. Y/N looked out to the crowd; usually, she was in the back. All the attention was mainly focused on Daisy and Billy, but now all the attention was focused on her. Closing her eyes, Y/N began to sing. 

Eddie watched Y/N the whole time, a smile pulling at his lips. She was in her element, and he couldn’t look away. Everything about Y/N was addicting. The sound of her voice was something he had always loved since the moment he had first heard her sing. 

Sensing that Eddie was looking at her, Y/N turned to face him, and she was surprised to find him smiling. Taking the microphone from the stand, Y/N fully turned her body to face him and continued to sing. The crowd faded away; it was only Y/N and Eddie. 

As the song ended, the arena erupted into cheers and shouts. Tearing her eyes away from Eddie, Y/N turned and faced the crowd, all sorts of emotions filling her body. The two walked to the centre of the stage; Eddie gripped Y/N’s hand, entwining their fingers as they bowed. His thumb gently brushed across the back of her hand. It was a small reassurance. You did it. Y/N looked at Eddie and smiled as they bowed once more.

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[b4tracha]

Date? (Stray Kids x Male! Reader)

This is Stray Kids being asked out, or them asking (M/N) out. If you want an alternative version of the opposite happening, inbox me!!

Bang Chan: The both of you were in his studio, and you watched him work on a new beat he recently has been thinking about. It was nice lying down on the couch while you watched the man work on his craft. His serious and focused work face was one of your favorite Chan looks. He was so gorgeous doing what he loved. You have been thinking about asking him out for a while but didn’t know when it was best to bring it up.

“Chan.” He hummed, acknowledging that you said something without turning around. He did that quite often. He never knew when to quit. “Do you want to go out with me?”

You should have known he wasn’t truly paying attention to what you were saying, because he absent mindedly agreed without putting much thought into it. “Chan, I meant like a date.”

That was what got his attention. He froze and didn’t turn around yet, but you could see his ears start to burn a bright red. You smiled softly at the small detail as you waited for his proper response to your proposal. Chan slowly turned his head, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. 

“A date?” He squeaked, starting to play with his fingers and looking around the room like it was going to decided for him. “I..yes?” 

Bang Chan was never more cuter than that moment. 

Lee Know: For once, Stray Kids was on an extended break while everyone relaxed and recovered from constantly being at work. Minho immediately went to Gimpo, so he could come bother you for a little bit. He sometimes stayed over in your apartment, leaving clothes there as a “just incase.” He hasn’t seen you in months and you haven’t been able to talk as frequently due to his long, dragging schedules.

Minho opened the door with the spare key you gifted him a while back. You didn’t mind him coming in at random as he was usually harmless. The first thing he noticed was your cat running around. His smiled grew big as he noticed that you were playing with him, shining a laser at random. You giggled, watching the feline jump and pounce, trying to catch the uncatchable light. Eventually you noticed Minho watching from the opening of the room, shocked.

“Oh, we were just having a little play date. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were here.” You spoke, slightly embarrassed. Minho brushed it off, “It’s fine. We should have a play date of our own though.”

“What?” “What?” “Okay, Minho..”

Changbin: You both were again at a restaurant, eating something for lunch. He had the day off and decided instead of working out, he would see you. Messages weren’t the same as seeing you in real life like before. You were talking about your week while he listened intently. He couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker at your lips or your eyes. Your eyes would always shine when you were excited and you had a habit of biting your lip. He enjoyed watching those little habits of yours.

“Changbin. Is there something wrong?” He snapped out of the small trance you put him in and looked right into your eyes and smiled. 

“Aww, were you worried about me?” He started to speak in a whiny voice that always made you roll your eyes yet giggle at the same time. He pulled himself closer to you and thought for a second. “I am fine, just thinking and zoned out for a small bit.”

“Come on, tell meee” You whined back and leaned your head back in the chair. He hummed and watched you. Should he do it? Was it worth the risk? He scoffed at the thought. He had jutdae, he will say what he means and mean it with confidence. 

“When we go out like this, it feels like we are on a date. I want to know if you want to go on a proper one?”

Hyunjin: You were on your shift, bored. It was a slow day and only a handful of people have came through the store and even then only a single person actually purchased anything. Usually, you would try to find something to do however your new manger has been stricting down on staying on task and doing what you were paid to do. You couldn’t even have your phone out at all during shift.

As you were about to fall asleep standing up, the bell above the door rung. You wiped the small amount of drool from your mouth and stood up straight to greet the customer. You came face to face with Hyunjin.

You haven’t seen much of him as being an idol sometimes left him unavailable. Hyunjin waved softly, mask hiding the probable smile on his face. You walked over and started to follow him around, manager be damned. You enjoyed watching him try to find new paints and oils to use while you both spoke about whatever that came to mind at the moment. 

“There is this art gallery that’s having a special event next week. I am planning on going.” He mentioned, glancing away from you. You found it odd, but brushed it off as him being his weird self. 

“Oh, I heard about it. I wanted to go, but I couldn’t afford a ticket.” You pouted, folding your arms. Hyunjin licked his lips and thought for a second before blurting out that he could take you.

“Like a date?” He paused before confirming what you said. “Like a date.”

HAN: He was at your place for once, trying to get away from the dorms and studio. Jisung doesn’t come there as often as he was usually busy and trying to work on new projects. You had a “no work” rule while he was there. If only you knew how hard that rule was when he wrote every little sappy love song with the thought of you behind it all. 

The two of you were watching Howl’s Moving Castle per Jisung’s request. He would quote the movie as the scene was currently playing and even had the movements of the characters down. It was cute watching. After the movie ended, you put on a random anime that you have been meaning to rewatch. Although, none of that didn’t matter when Jisung was cuddled into your side. He got cold and decided to snuggle into you since the blanket wasn’t enough for him anymore. 

You asked him to come over for a reason and yet each time you wanted to say it, you immediately backed out. Why was asking someone out so hard to do? It’s Jisung, it always easy to talk to him, why can’t you talk to him now?

“There’s going to be a new Ghibli movie. You should see it with me. You know, like a movie date.” The words fumbled out of your mouth, it was a miracle Jisung could actually understand what you’re sayin to him.

Felix: He was waiting for you at the airport. He had to do quite a bit of lying and even disguising to able to pull this off. He was shocked he made it this far without being noticed by people. After over a year, you’re finally moving to South Korea due to a job offer as a model. You never told him anything until the deal was finalized and you were ready to officially move over there.

For once, you were also not swarmed by fans and paparazzi wanting to get a photo of you or some comments that would most likely be taken out of context. You also bought a disguise. You didn’t want anyone to know that you were here and out and about. 

Felix stood with a big sign that said the nickname that he tended to use for you. Once you were off the plane and saw the sign, you almost dropped your bags. Luckily your manager just took them for you as you ran to the male, hugging him tightly. Felix’s smile was bright and big as he hugged you back just as tight. You were so warm. He was glad that this was his first hug with you. 

“Since I live here now, I have been meaning to ask you. Do you want to go to dinner with me sometime?”

Seungmin: Eventually his coffee ban was over and he was allowed back into the shop. First thing in the morning, he was ready to see you. Once the bell rung above him, he noticed you look up with a slight moment of shock before starting to make his favorite drink at the shop. Before he spoke even a word to you, you rung him up and then pushed it into his hands. Seungmin blinking slowly, frowning before you immediately ran into the back due to a “break.”

Seungmin didn’t know how to feel at that moment. Why were you acting all weird all of a sudden? You didn’t act like this over messages. Maybe you were just good at masking your feelings while texting someone? He brushed it off and kept sipping on the bitter drink. Usually, he enjoyed the taste, but not when you were acting so oddly.

“Coffee again?” Jeongin teased as he slide next to him, bored. Practice didn’t start for a while, so all they could do was stretch and relax until everyone was there. Seungmin hummed and kept drinking from the hot cup. “Hey, what’s that on your drink?”

Seungmin frowned and looked at where Jeongin was pointing at.

Date?

Seungmin’s heart almost jumped in his throat at the implication that you wanted to go on a date with him. He knew you were flirting when you first met, but you both became quick friends as well. He thought you had lost interest.

He fished his phone from his pocket and sent you a message with the exactly response you wanted: yes.

I.N: After promotions was done for the new era, Jeongin immediately set up mall trips with you on your off days. If you had to work anyways, he would then pop into the store and talk to you. He could spend hours within the store just talking about anything if he could. You both just had an amazing bond that he couldn’t explain.

That was until he accidentally got you fired. He was visiting you at work once again and he didn’t realize that your boss was there. He didn’t come to the store much, but when he did it wasn’t fun to be on shift. He hides and watches the customers and employees. He watched you and Jeongin crack jokes while on shift and decided that you needed to be replace due to your incompetence and childish behavior. 

Jeongin immediately felt bad, watching his best friend lose his job because he decided to come in and mess around. You didn’t seem to care that much and shrugged it off. You were planning on quitting anyways. The pay wasn’t good enough and it was miserable working there unless Jeongin found the time to come in. 

“M/N, what can I do to make it up to you?” He asked for the nth time. It was starting to get on your nerves how much Jeongin wanted to apologize to you. Like you kept saying, you didn’t care about the job enough to be mad at him.

“Eat with me? A date?” You shrugged it off like it was nothing. Jeongin, though, paused and watched you. How did you say that so casually?

“Oh..” He started to play with his burning ears. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

#bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmim #yang jeongin #skz #stray kids #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff

[harlowsbby]

Sorrows

"You don't miss me Jack, I don't know why you're trying to convince me that.”

You were out and having fun with your friends Chloe and Halle they had invited you to tag along with them for the Grammy's after party and you knew there was going to be a 50/50 chance that you'd run into Jack and gosh you wished you hadn't.

Instead you were trapped in a corner with your newly ex trying his best to win you back.

The love both of you had for one another was very strong but there was so much troublesome in your relationship with Jack. He acted as if he reciprocated the same energy as you but he did and there was so much unfaithfulness that you knew you had to end it.

You were lying if you said you weren't yearning for his touch some nights.

"Come on Y/N stop acting like that. You know you miss me just as much as I miss you, let's stop playing this cat and dog game and just kiss and makeup."

He slurred his words, you scrunch your nose up in disgust. Jack was never a drinker but the smell of beer and tequila reeked all over him.

"Jack just move so I can go home we're done and we've been over this many times." You tried to squeeze past him but he was budging.

The two of you were so deeply and madly in love you had a strong relationship and connection right from the start but somewhere in there things started to crumble and end badly on

Jack's end of course. You were lying if you didn't say there was still some underlying love there.

"Please Y/N one more chance that's all l'm asking for and if I don't prove you wrong then WIlleave you alone." You sighed heavily, looking up at him you smiled faintly as he smirked down at you. You hated the way he had you wrapped around his finger.

"Fine, but this is your last chance Jack and if you fuck this up l'm don-.?

"Done with me for good I know I know, I'll text you later baby, I love youuuu." He song sang before removing himself from you and walking away. You watched as he walked away and sighed. Things could either be changing for the better or for the worse.

The next day

“Wait hold up so you took him back? Y/N I thought we were leaving all these weirdo dudes behind this year.” It was the following morning you had spent the night at Chloe’s and of course she was nagging and going on and on about Jack.

“What was I supposed to do Chloe? He had me cornered and I mean I sort of kinda miss him.” You mumbled.

“Are you being serious? Are you hearing everything that’s coming out of your mouth right now. He played you like a violin and you’re taking him back like nothing.” Chloe had a point Jack made you look like a fool on the internet he played you many many times but you went back to him every time.

“It is what it is Chloe just please be nice when he comes to pick me up later please. For my sake at least.” Chloe thought about it for a second with a stone cold look on her face before giving you a half smile.

“For you I’ll let it go but if he acts weird or if I catch him doing something shady I’ll kill him myself.” She joked and went back to stuffing her mouth with pancakes. “Oh I know you will Chloe.”

Later that night

You honestly didn’t even feel like going out tonight all you wanted to do was stay inside and stay warm, winter just started in Louisville and you hated how cold it always got. But staying inside wasn’t an option when it came to Chloe.

You got up and started getting ready for the party is wasn’t anything fancy just a little gathering so you decided on some leggings and a pink hoodie, Jack had gifted you awhile back. After you finished you sat in-front of your vanity and started on your makeup.

You were about to apply your lashes when you got a message. Looking down you noticed it was Jack. You quickly opened the message and rolled your eyes when you read it.

Jack 💗

- sorry baby I can’t make it tonight.. I’m stuck in the studio but I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow 💕

You were about to give him shit because it was always something when it came to him but you realized he was getting more popular now and hanging out with you came came second to everything.

You had a gut feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth but you couldn’t help it. He was a liar and a damn good one at that. You always questioned everything that came out of his mouth nowadays.

You quickly texted him back saying it was fine and you’d love to meet up with him tomorrow to which he responded by leaving you on read.

“Figures.” You mumbled but you weren’t about to let this bring you down.

“Who are you over there texting?” “It’s Y/N.” Urban spit out his drink he never thought in a million years he’d be hearing your name coming out of Jack’s mouth again.

“Wait you two are back together or something?! when did this happen.” Jack put his phone down before giving his attention to Urban.

“Yesterday, I followed her to the bathroom and basically cornered her and asked if she’d take me back.”

“So you’re together again?” Jack shrugged his shoulders “I mean I wouldn’t exactly say that but whatever floats your boat.” Urban was confused now and wasn’t understanding anything Jack was saying.

“What does that mean exactly?” Jack sighed. “I mean come on Urban I’m Jack Harlow you know how many girls will die to have a night with me.”

Urban didn’t wanna hear anything else Jack even had to say mainly because he knew a bunch of bullshit was about to come out his mouth.

“Y/N is a good fuck and that’s all.”

Urban didn’t like that one bit even though Urban was use to Jack using girls he didn’t think Jack would ever talk about you that way. You were one in a million and ever dude in Louisville knew that.

Instead of arguing with Jack, Urban suggested they go check out the party you were going to tonight.

“We can’t go there Y/N is going to be there.” The last thing Jack wanted to do was run into you especially after he told you he’d be in the studio. “We can go to Sunni’s party then?” “Yeah that sounds good.”

“Y/N are you almost ready? I hope not because plans got changed we’re going to Sunni’s party. So you might wanna dress down a bit.” Chloe yelled from downstairs.

“What? for what? I was excited for the little get together.” You pouted and put on you all white new balances.

“I guess Ella got sick last minute so Sunni’s party it is.” Your nose scrunched up to the sound of Sunni’s name it isn’t that you didn’t like Sunni he was just one of the main reasons for Jack’s not so loyal ways.

On the way to Sunni’s house Jack was the only thing on your mind you twiddled and turned the ring he had gifted you on your anniversary and smiled weakly at it. It was a promise ring with your birthstone in the middle.

“You know I lied I’m glad you’re back with lover boy I guess.” Chloe joked making you smile at her. “What happened to wanting to kill him earlier?”

“I know you really love him Y/N, I can see how happy he makes you.” Jack made you very happy you just really wished this time around was really different.

Once you pulled up to Sunni’s house you noticed the familiar black Range Rover parked in the driveway.

“Is that Jack’s car? Or am I delusional.” “I’m not sure but didn’t you say he was at the studio?” Chloe said.

You looked back at the car one last time before shrugging your shoulders and letting it go, maybe it was someone else’s car.

The minute you entered Sunni’s house you wish you hadn’t. There was people making out on the couch a few people throwing up outside but what caught your eye was a familiar long haired kentuckian on the couch.

“Urban is that you?” Urban cursed when he heard your voice but he couldn’t let it show that something was up. “Y/N? What are you doing here.” He said with a tight smile, Urban wasn’t that great when under pressure.

“The other party got canceled so we decided to tag along here, I’m surprised you’re here I thought you would’ve been at the studio with Jack.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“At the studio?” “Yeah that’s where Jack said he’d be tonight.” You watched him intensely as he fiddled with his fingers.

“Oh right yeah no I didn’t wanna go you know I’m always with Jack I just needed some me time.” Urban laughed nervously before turning his attention to anything other than you.

“Are you okay Urban? You seem a bit off.” You noticed the way his chest started to rise and fall and the way his hands clenched around the shot.

“I’m good Y/N, I just need some air so if you don’t mind I’m just gonna step outside for a bit.” He quickly got up and stepped around you. Before you could say anything he was dashing through the crowd of sweaty bodies.

“Well that wasn’t weird at all.” You flopped on the couch and just leaned back watching everyone dance and sing. Man how you wished Jack was here or something you missed him so much being in his arms was some place you’d rather be.

Eventually the many shots of tequila got to you and the only thing calling your name was the nearest bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Chloe removed herself from the guy she was making out with.

“I gotta go pee or else I’m gonna go right here and right now.” You squealed as you did the potty dance. “You want me to come with? I don’t want you to go alone.” By the look of the guys facial expression he didn’t want Chloe going with you.

“No, I’ll be real quick.” She was hesitant but let you go.

Urban eventually came back inside and that’s when he noticed you weren’t on the black leather couch anymore. His eyes widened as he scanned the room, that’s when he saw the back of Chloe’s head.

“Where is Y/N?” Urban asked Chloe, the guy groaned as Chloe pulled away again. “In the bathroom.” Urban’s eyes widened. He knew Jack was upstairs probably deep in some random chick.

Chloe raised her eyebrows. “What’s that face for? Is she not allowed to use the bathroom.”

“I mean she is like she can I just fuck I’ll be back.” Urban quickly dashed up the stairs and after you.

“Hello?! Is somebody in there I have to use the bathroom.” You sighed and banged on the door all you wanted to do was pee.

“Just a minute.” Some girl yelled from behind the door. “Please hurry I have a really weak bladder and I have to go.” You cried out as you began to shift from one leg to another.

“Y/N.” You turned around seeing it was Urban. “Hey Urban.” “Whatcha doing? You know there’s another bathroom downstairs.” Urban knew he had to try and get you downstairs before Jack came out of the bathroom.

“I don’t think I’ll make it downstairs besides she’s almost done.” His eyes grew twice the size. “She?!” Urban yelled which startled you because you weren’t sure what his issue was or why he was yelling. “Yeah she? As in a girl.” You said slowly trying to make sure he understands.

“Well I’m sure if you just run you’d make it.” He tried taking your hand and leading you to the other bathroom but you weren’t nudging.

“Urban can you stop what’s your issue? You’ve been acting weird ever since I got here.” You placed your hands on your hips.

“Are you hiding something from me? If you are tell me what it is.”

“What?” He huffed and laughed.

“You know I’d never hide anything from you Y/N.” You weren’t falling for it and just as you were about to press him to tell you more the bathroom door opened revealing the girl.

“That was so much fun I’m definitely giving you my number so we can have a round two or three, thank you again Jack.” She giggled and placed a big sloppy kiss to his freckled nose.

“Jack?” You said and turned around slowly watching as some red haired chick gave you a look of disgust before brushing past Urban and You.

Jack’s smirk was quickly gone once he saw you standing there.

“Y/N?! What are you doing here.” He said nervously. “I could ask you the same thing Jack, this definitely doesn’t seem like the studio.” You mumbled.

“Uh I got out early and I ended up just coming here to kick it for a bit.”

“Right you just came here to kick it but it seems like the hickey on your neck says otherwise.”

You felt like a fool because once again he had played you but there wasn’t going to be any second chances this time.

“I’m done with you Jack all you do is play in my face I’ve given you chances after chances and you just love to make me look like a fool.” He watched how your eyes begun to get teary. “I hate you so much Jack and I mean that.”

He went to step closer to you but you stepped back. “Please let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anything to talk about we’re over with Jack.” He tried to grab you but you pulled away and quickly ran away.

Urban clapped his hands slowly which gained Jack’s attention. “I hope you’re happy Jack.”

“Oh fuck off Urban you know she’ll come running back.” Urban chucked. “I don’t think so Jack but if you don’t mind I have a friend to find.”

Jack watched as Urban ran after you, Jack didn’t feel any type of sorrow at first until it finally hit him maybe you were really done with him but he didn’t just lose you that night he also lost his best friend.

“Y/N! Stop running please.” Urban cried out. He sighed in relief when you finally stopped running and leaned against his cry. When he was close enough you just cried in his chest and Urban just let you cry it out.

“Let me take you home please?” You sniffled and nodded and got into the car. You were exhausted mentally and physically.

The entire ride home Jack was the only thing on your mind. Maybe this was how things were supposed to be all along maybe he wasn’t the one for you. Maybe things were never going to be the way you painted them out to be. But something in you so badly wanted things to be different this way but boy were you wrong.

taglist

@hoodharlow @heavyhitterheaux

@jackmans-poison @jackharloww

@lcandothisallday @mortirolo

@a-moment-captured @jacksmoviestar

@nattinatalia @pianoisland

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow blurbs

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dionysus xii, m | jjk x ♂wiyllt x myg

pairing(s): jungkook x male wiyllt x yoongi — important: contains m/m pairing— male OC is male whatifyoulivelikethat aka me, the author ;)

summary: The following events are extremely gay. Jeon Jungkook puts himself in a dick 69 (and likes it). Min Yoongi puts himself in a maid outfit (kinda). Also, they share a boyfriend. Not that any of them are gonna admit that straight up. That would just be embarrassing. (They will in their head though, heh.)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; important! male OC and Yoongi are pansexual and Jungkook is bisexual; I'm warning you: everyone's dick is out; in love and none of them will admit it out loud, classic; JK is a lil insecure and gets his reassurance ofc; Yoongi is just a slut kidding but also not; domestic, tbh; D/s smut (hyung kink, praise kink, spit kink, mild restraints, 69, choking, m-masturbation, cumming on each other, cum eating, crossdressing - maid Yoongi + leather body harness + butt plug, pain kink, m-receiving oral, edging, handjob, hair pulling, unprotected anal sex, cowgirl (cowboy? eh, you get it), missionary anal, creampie); non-idol!BTS - sub!Jungkook x dom!male OC x sub!Yoongi; switches between Yoongi’s POV and JK's POV; for the few people who read this series, um, why? my male self has dirty, filthy sex, smh

-

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi

--

“Fuck me. I’m so damn tired of humanity. Does no one have a backbone or ears these days? I don’t get paid enough. Ugh. Patience is a virtue and all that shit. Fuck virtue. I’ve used my last fuck and I just want a damn nap. What about you? You’ve been sitting here all day. I know, aren’t you much comfier since I put you back in the couch?”

Min Yoongi cocked his head.

Commotion? Checked the time. Oh, shit. Did that many hours fly by? He removed the headset from his ears and stood up. Fluttering RBG lighting tried to call him back to the white desktop, but instead he headed to cracked-open bedroom door, past dark gray sheets and a folded black blanket that weren’t his. Yoongi had, however, made the bed. Simply because he had seen the mess.

“I know, bro. You’ve been with me too long to be dumped on the floor like that.”

Yoongi pressed two fingers to the door and pushed it open a little more, craning his head and giving himself a clear view of the living room.

He saw a head of black hair, naked broad shoulders, and a deep scarlet dress shirt halfway off.

what if you

“I’d talk to Jungkook but that guy doesn’t listen to me.”

He could only see half of the back tattoo.

He called out.

“Why are you stripping for the giant plush bear?”

The black hair whipped in a sharp arc, exposing white gold earrings and angular jaw, followed by dark, dark eyes and plush mauve lips in a soft ‘o’ shape. The dress shirt slid down, caught by a flighty hand, but Yoongi didn’t need to see the rest of the tattoo. He knew exactly what it said. He had, after all, run his fingers over it and kissed each letter for many nights.

And that chest.

Fuck, he wanted to make out with it.

The man known to many as Dionysus, but to Yoongi by given name, gawked at him.

“How long you have you been here?” the other male sputtered.

Yoongi caught himself smiling. He usually hated that but, in this case, it added to the teasing. He wasn’t given many chances to tease when it came to his favorite person so Yoongi made sure to take every chance he got. “Couple hours. I wasn’t getting anywhere in the studio today so I figured I would take a break and play Diablo. You said I could use your setup.” He made sure to keep his voice very calm and even despite wanting to burst into laughter.

Those impossibly dark eyes shifted from side to side very rapidly. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since you started talking to the bear.” It wasn’t true but Yoongi wasn’t above lying when it was for his own amusement. One more sin to add to his already hefty list.

The other man made a pained expression and threw his dress shirt onto the black leather couch. It wasn’t aimed to be sexual but Yoongi appreciated what he was seeing all the same. “Great.” Ah, he really did it enjoy the way irritation made that familiar husky voice even deeper. “Now you think I’m even crazier than I already am because I talk to my plushies. I’ll have you know Mr. Bear has seen some shit.”

“Is that his name?”

“Not really. He doesn’t have a name. I just use him as a backrest when I’m alone and watching television.”

Somehow Yoongi found himself a bit jealous of the two-meter-tall café-au-lait-colored plush bear sitting floppily on the couch. It looked back at him with a partway-open stitched smile. Don’t look at me like that. I won’t say anything when Jungkook inevitably dumps you on the ground again, Yoongi thought to the bear.

The bear, understandably, continued smiling.

Ominous.

The currently shirtless man was going through his black leather briefcase with an annoyed click of his tongue, muttering something along the lines of, “Don’t you fucking tell me that I lost my hair tie too, for fuck’s sake,” with dark waves of black falling past his cheeks. It was longer than how he usually had it, huh? The sides had been shaved as usual, but it seemed that he had left it longer this time, similarly to how Yoongi had his hair now.

Speaking of.

Yoongi carefully tugged the black hair tie out of his hair and put it in the pocket of the sweatpants.

For no reason at all.

The rest of his black hair fell around his neck, the curtain bangs wisping against his cheeks. A step closer to the coffee table, and the other male looked up, defeated, and was about to say something, mauve lips parting and all, giving Yoongi about two seconds to fully appreciate those decadent prominent collarbones and dark nipples and crisp black slacks clinging to delicious hips.

Then the front door burst open.

“Yo, hyung!”

Yoongi twitched in annoyance.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

Really? As if surprise was needed. Actually, that tone was probably more akin to seeing an unexpected visitor. Jeon Jungkook had a one-track mind. He also hardly used honorifics – except when he wanted to make it very clear that he was the youngest and seeking attention right now. Now Jungkook closed the door.

“Whoa! You’re naked! Wait. Why are you naked? And in front of Yoongi-hyung? That’s not fair!”

Yoongi stuck his tongue in his cheek and turned to see the doe-eyed, playfully pleading expression of Jeon Jungkook. His black hair was a little shorter now, but neatly parted for once. Surprisingly, he had yet another piercing on the right side of his lip. Half of his arm tattoos were exposed and there was the shadow of the full sleeve under the baggy black t-shirt. Those slate-blue jeans were so shredded that Yoongi was surprised that the denim was still holding on. There was so much leg showing that Jungkook might as well have worn shorts. Or nothing.

“I literally just got home. I was going to change.”

Instant complaint from the younger man. “Why? You look better like that.”

Yoongi felt the directness of those dark, dark eyes asking to provide some confirmational logic. He avoided them and said nothing, staring at the wall next to Jungkook’s head instead. Was that framed print of Jhin from League of Legends always there? Huh.

“I can’t stay naked.”

“You always say that, but you’re wrong,” Jungkook protested, kicking off his sneakers and pushing them against Yoongi’s as he crossed over.

“Don’t tell me you came here to get me to make you dinner again.”

“But, hyung–”

“I was going to make dinner,” Yoongi cut in. “I found black sea bass on sale.”

“I can’t make you cook in my own home,” that deep sigh replied, gazing at him under soft black tresses while one arm was outstretched and holding Jungkook’s chest back. True to his nature, Jungkook flailed about and played along. “I’ll change and help you.”

Oh, really now.

“Your home?”

Yoongi glanced at Jungkook and back to those dark, dark eyes, openly smirking.

“It’s our home now.”

-

“Is there any fantasy you’ve always wanted but never got to do?”

“Me?” The folding of laundry paused as those dark eyebrows knitted in confusion. “My horny ass? Yoongi, come on. You think I wouldn’t attempt the literal second I had a plausible impulse?”

Hmm. That wasn’t really the answer Min Yoongi wanted. He reached over to try and help but had the back of his hand promptly smacked away once again. He didn’t like feeling useless, but the man who called himself Dionysus at times might have a control problem. Or, rather, with one glance to those dark, dark eyes, he may be feeling a bit guilty still about Yoongi doing random housework as he saw fit.

But that was how Yoongi showed…

Anyway.

With how much time he was spending over here, Yoongi figured he might as well. He didn’t like a messy environment either. Three guys spending too much time in one small apartment were bound to get out of control if they didn’t all work together to keep the place clean.

Still, his host was not letting him get into his business (just his mouth and occasionally his asshole, heh). At least when he was home. Therefore, Yoongi had attempted to distract. And failed, but he knew he would. He still wanted to know though. Mostly because he wanted to be special.

He didn’t just think that.

Ahem.

“Do you mean you only attempt to do things that you know the other person will say yes to, or have you actually tried everything you want to do?”

The other male made a neat stack of folded boxer briefs and frowned. His dark hair curled over his forehead in the most delicious, rolled-out-of-bed way. Mmmm. “Well, no one can try everything. I can’t grow tits to try tit-fucking or switch to a vagina to try triple penetration. Sigh.”

Yoongi jerked his head back. “What?”

“I would have to try and find three guys who can stand to see each other naked and that’s a stretch considering you’re still weird around Jungkook,” he continued, opening dresser drawers to put articles of clothing in their respective places. “Which you never have to get used to, by the way. I am only giving an example.”

“I’m fine with seeing him naked.”

Side eye.

Yoongi shrugged, acknowledging he said that a bit too quickly. “He’s usually without a shirt in your apartment.”

“He’s not the most subtle,” the other man agreed.

A short silence. Yoongi found he enjoyed watching him doing such home tasks. When the taller male got dressed for work, he usually wore tailored pieces such as dress shirts and pants. But at home he wore a loose black t-shirt with a graphic of a grim reaper watching television and fitted track pants from the professional League of Legends team T1. Simple, but showed off his slightly eccentric personality. It was a step down from when he dressed to go out where he tended to be much sexier. This type of comfort meant that they were close.

Well, they were also fucking, but Yoongi knew this was different than the physicality of it all.

“What about crossdressing?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked up and found dark, dark eyes staring at him, hands frozen in mid-action.

“Me? I don’t own highly feminine clothing currently, but I guess I could find something…”

“No,” Yoongi corrected. “Me. Cross-dress for you. I know you don’t only like men.”

A sudden thrill coursed through him upon seeing the intrigued expression. He maintained his casual, calm demeanor. His boyfriend still hadn’t moved, not a centimeter, but was instead surveying him curiously, as if he was trying to figure out the seriousness of the suggestion.

“You don’t only like men,” the deep voice countered.

“That doesn’t answer the question of whether or not you would be turned on if I wore more feminine clothing.” Yoongi paused for effect. He, too, could be enticing when he wanted to. “If you want to fuck me in a skirt or dress.”

This was supposed to be a shocking kinky proposal but it was backfiring slightly. Yoongi lifted his thighs slightly and thanked his past self for wearing these baggier sweatpants. He shrugged as leisurely as he could.

“You know, bend me over and violate me.”

Those plush mauve lips parted.

“Could be fun.”

Ever quick and always witty response. “Is that why you grew your hair out?”

Yoongi almost snorted. At least his dick stopped perking up. “No. Come to think of it, helps though.”

An open-mouthed smirk.

“And here I thought you were only a musical genius, but you continue to amaze me.”

-

Past Jeon Jungkook would have never predicted that he would also be deep throating dick when partaking in a sixty-nine, but life had a strange way of making the impossible possible. He probably would have predicted being in handcuffs at the same time though. His porn history was quite telling even if he hadn’t yet had the guts to explore it back then.

If he had thought he couldn’t breathe that well with pussy in his face, well, now Jungkook was beginning to appreciate what other women had done for him in the past when he was the one on top.

This was a lot more difficult than he thought.

Not that he had much time to think about it. Currently, Jungkook was struggling to focus on sucking dick because there was too much going on between his legs. Large hands gripping his tense thighs and pinning them down. Wet. Tongue roughly sliding down the topside of his cock while the underside rubbed against the roof of that talented mouth, the back of that throat squeezing the head with every descent. Tight. He could even feel the measured, warm breath against his balls every time he was swallowed, adding winding sparks to the constant rollercoaster of pleasure. Hot. Jungkook was embarrassed to feel that he was only able to get three-fourths of that hard length into his own mouth but he blamed it on the angle.

His wrists were handcuffed together, but Jungkook could still reach up and run his fingertips over the other male’s lower torso, aching to touch skin on skin.

Well, he had a whole dick down his throat, but you know what he means.

The one above him shifted and the hips rose, giving him some breathing room. Then slowly descended, pressing deep into his throat and mildly suffocating him with his balls. Not that Jungkook minded at this point because the mouth was tightening, changing the expanse of sensation to all over his length, the tongue spreading out and curling around his girth. Little flicks of wet muscle building the ecstasy, heightening the impending apex, making his core tense and his eyes roll up into his head as his hyung thrust slowly into his mouth, using him like the hole he always wanted to be. He did feel bad, just laying there as the other man fucked his throat and sucked him off.

Strong fingers dug into his thighs, hopefully leaving bruises.

He did feel a little guilty.

Mostly, though, Jungkook was so far gone that he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Dionysus.

It really was a fitting alias for someone so excessive.

A deep chuckle resonated around his jerking, shivering cock, bleeding into the blinding haze of orgasm, sending another wave soaring through him. Slight shame, sure, but mostly pride at hearing the clear satisfaction. He could feel it too, the swallowing and the hands that gripped his shaking inner thighs, kneading his flesh. Those full lips floated around the base of the still-engorged head of his cock, rubbing back and forth. Fuck. Fuck, it was hard to explain. A suspension of sensation, not the fleeting high of release but a constant bliss that made him want to cry.

Fuuuuuuuck.

The hips rose. Hard, wet cock fell out of his mouth, slapping him in the face and smearing his own spit on his lips and cheek. He gasped, choking on his own saliva, moaning deeper when that mouth went down on him again, keeping him hard, coaxing his want. Jungkook didn’t care. He didn’t care what was right or wrong. Didn’t care what was happening, even as fingers laced around his slippery balls and locked them in a cage. Didn’t care, reaching up and grazing his fingertips over that dripping length, pressing it to his cheek and rubbing it against his jaw. His saliva stuck to his face. His neck. Whimpers bubbling in his chest as nails scratched down his inner thigh, forcing him to spread his legs open more.

The mouth retreated.

And then tongue cupped around his balls, teeth nicking, leaving him a gasping mess of whines as it travelled all over accompanied by a palm closing in around the throbbing head of his cock, gliding saliva over the sensitive skin.

His entire body tensed, succumbing to the wicked rush of sparks and arousal spreading all over.

“Heh, let me get off you,” the husky voice above him mused.

Jungkook had a fleeting thought of, no, crush me, but then it was flood of air and light invading his senses. Ack! He recoiled into the pillows even though it wasn’t even that bright. Just RGB lighting from the computer and the ghost-shaped lamp on the nightstand still aglow. Didn’t matter though, because now he had to face…

Dark, dark eyes looked down at him.

Paired with an amused smirk.

Jungkook wanted to hide behind his hands but they were handcuffed together. He couldn’t exactly be super subtle brushing back his sweaty hair or anything. The other male continued watching him, his black hair curling around his left cheek and ear. Jungkook found himself staring at those shoulder lines and collarbones, finding himself a bit jealous of the natural beauty of them.

The other male leaned down.

Expression dangerous.

“H… Hyung…?”

“Hm?”

Then Jungkook yelped as he felt his right leg was raised, pressed against the other man’s chest. He briefly hated himself for not working on flexibility more, but then Jungkook has no more room to think as his boyfriend’s left hand wrapped around his throat, that smirk turning wicked.

Wait.

His what?

Jungkook choked and it wasn’t because of the hand around his neck.

“Look at you,” that hazy, low voice continued. “How cute.”

He suddenly became vaguely aware that the deep breathing and sound of hand on flesh was not him, but the older male jacking himself off right above Jungkook’s aching, untouched length. Hey! But he couldn’t say it, whimpering, inhale shorting when the hold around his throat tightened, cutting off more blood. His brain felt fuzzy, his tongue thick and unmovable.

“H-Hyung, please…”

“Please what, my darling?”

He couldn’t feel the pre-cum wasn’t leaking all over his inner thigh right now but Jungkook was pretty damn sure it was happening, and his cheeks were heating up, burning, my darling, sputtering, unable to say anything to the rhythmic slapping sound and calm sighs of physical pleasure. He could feel the cool metal on his skin as he crawled his hands down, down.

Fingertips brushing against dried spit and cum.

“Can I… Can I touch myself, p... please, hyung?”

Jungkook could see that self-satisfied smile through his blurred vision and it made his heart race faster, made his core coil tighter, made his mind slip deeper, deeper into service.

“Of course. Such a good boy for asking.”

Maybe he should have been afraid on how easy it was, afraid of how willing he was to fall into this depravity and be this vulnerable, afraid of how that little praise made him lose his mind, but Jungkook couldn’t think about anything. He could only feel. Feel his thoughts bleed out with the lack of blood. Feel his arousal spiking when he touched himself, stroking his length below that moving hand. Feel the whine escaping him as he teased the swollen head of his cock, rubbing his thumb over the thin skin. Blood rushing, muscles twitching, his legs pinned open by another man’s body, and the man who called himself Dionysus when he wanted to be in the shadows grinned at him, like the devil, bringing him unbreakable heaven amidst all this sin.

“You want me to cum on you?” the other man teased, running his index finger over Jungkook’s jaw as he choked him. “Want me all over your pretty cock so you can get off using my cum as lube?”

Jungkook could only moan in affirmation, both because he was being choked and because he couldn’t think straight – as expected with this dick-on-dick action – at such an obscene, arousing suggestion, excitement and exhilaration burning his veins as he saw the tension ripple across his hyung’s chest, jaw tightening, dark eyes darker, biting his lower lip hard.

Messy black hair was hanging down.

The only foreshadowing was one of his eyebrows cocking deviously.

Then Jungkook gasped as the other male leaned forward and shot hot strings all over his hands, his cock, his burning skin, his eyes rolling back as he felt the thick head press down on his shaft and dribble cum down in a painted streak. The grip on his throat loosened, shooting him into a different rise, oxygen swarming into his lungs. His vision reeled, blurry. Controlled, calm exhales washing onto his shaking chest. No remorse. His gaze snapped back, feeling the twitching head burying into his balls, staining them with orgasm.

Those dark, dark eyes dared him.

“Go on. Your turn.”

Couldn’t look away.

Locked gazes, mouth open, gasping for air, gripping himself tightly. No, tighter. The whimpers growing in his throat, jacking himself off hard and fast, pushing for the climax, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself, slippery, wet, drenched in the heavy scent of sex and the cologne of green tea and marshmallow, herbal and warm, drowning, so good, s-spit on me, hyung, and that little smirk before he did. The splat so visceral, all over his punishing grip and sliding over the pulsing head of his cock, glistening purple-red, and Jungkook threw his head back, unable to look anymore, the hot flush of his cheeks spreading all over, guilty, guilty of being in love.

He came all over his hands and stomach, gasping out that forbidden name.

“Mmmm…”

The hand on his neck left him cold.

His right leg fell, no longer suspended in the air.

Darkness.

Each breath rattling his lungs. His nerves still singing. Movement, but Jungkook didn’t dare open his eyes to know. Then he sucked in a breath, feeling a soft, warm tongue lick around his fingers. His palms. His cock. His crotch. Sucking up the mixture of their cum and spit, feathering kisses and hot breath over his tingling skin.

Oh…

The sweetness was killing him.

My darling.

Jungkook was pretty sure he was insane and making up everything in his head. He didn’t want to do anything but feel this moment. Hands slipped under his. Sticky, wet, and yet those fingertips traced his palms, laying them down against his abs as that mouth kissed up and down his cock, small licks curling around to flick his balls gently. He wasn’t even hard.

It felt so good.

So good.

He didn’t try to fight it. Couldn’t even if he wanted to. Jungkook let himself get lifted, the forearm against his lower back, kisses up his trembling chest, and then those dark, dark eyes observing him under shadowy lashes, amused. Those plush lips grazed Jungkook’s two lip piercings.

“You gonna get up, lazy bones?”

Jungkook made a noise of disagreement.

He had to be forced to clean up, but secretly (or not-so-secretly) Jungkook enjoyed that.

Hehe.

Apparently, he had tugged on the handcuffs a little too much because there was an indent left on the back of his wrists when they were removed. Oops. He hadn’t meant to do that. He didn’t want to get scolded, so he kept his wrists out of sight the best he could so his hyung wouldn’t notice. He received a silent side-eye, but no comment. Warning him to be careful but not wanting to make it a nagging. His hyung always warned him not to overdo it. Jungkook just… got lost in the moment.

Often.

Ahem.

Anyway.

“You okay?”

“Uh?”

It was hard to describe the feeling he got when Jungkook looked up to the other man. Maybe embarrassed, feeling disheveled compared to the confident spark in those dark, dark eyes surveying him with amusement. Maybe confused at the butterflies dancing in his chest, envious that the older male seemed so calm shirtless, messy hair, black boxer briefs, drying his hands on a towel before tossing it onto his shoulder like a goddamn movie main character. Maybe…

Those mauve lips curved into a smile.

Jungkook couldn’t define in words what love was, but love was definitely the feeling he felt in this moment, witnessing that smile.

“Did you enjoy that? Anything you didn’t?”

“O… Oh?” It finally clicked in his brain what was being asked. His cheeks seared with warmth. “Um…?!”

Instead of sitting beside him, the man who called himself Dionysus at times smiled wider, giving him the appearance of an endearing trickster. He remained standing in front of Jungkook sitting on the side of the bed. Too close to be mistaken as friends. “I thought I did a pretty good job. You came harder than usual, or what it because I was watching you this time? Guess I can’t tell if I’m too busy swallowing, hm?” Why was he talking about this so calmly? But there was nowhere to run either, caught between a piercing gaze and devious smirk, graceful fingers fanned over one hip like an underwear model.

“I… w-wha… hyung was amazing, I–”

And then Jungkook froze.

Words dead in his throat.

That was right.

Me.

The other man bent down and brushed hair out of his vision, but Jungkook was freezing up. Right. Now that the adrenaline was gone, the scent of green tea and marshmallow was as comforting as it was a remainder. Hyung is amazing. Every time, without fail, thinking about every touch and every kiss and Jungkook was only along for the ride.

“Was… Was I okay, hyung?”

“Hm?” Movement, and Jungkook shifted his gaze to see that familiar head tilt teasing him. “What do you mean, were you okay? Did I not show my appreciation well?” A fingertip traced across his cheek.

Chills shimmering all over his shoulders and yet.

“But you only came once.”

A light chuckle. “Uh huh.”

Jungkook felt his vision blur. Shit. Why was he getting teary? He blinked hard, biting his lower lip tensely, the swift pain fighting back the tears. The other man noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He knew everything about everyone. He could read body language like a children’s book, and Jungkook was simply not on that level.

“You didn’t cum in my mouth…” he mumbled, looking away, ashamed. “I’m not good enough.”

“Hah?”

Jungkook had been trying not to think about it too much. Everything was already complicated, from how they met to the not-so-straight sexual relationship to the pit-a-pat feeling in his chest at wanting to be called my darling over and over again, but certain rain-cloud thoughts had been persistent, overshadowing everything else. The feeling of not good enough. When it had only been their isolated interactions, Jungkook didn’t think about how the other male slept with other people. Honestly, Jungkook didn’t even care since it was so obvious his hyung made him a priority.

But then there was Min Yoongi.

Watching them together was just…

“Hey.”

He felt hands on his shoulders, but Jungkook shut his eyes, shaking his head quickly, the whirlwind thoughts pouring through him. He had no right to be upset. No place to make demands, no idea what were the right words to say, no, he needed to shut up and appreciate that he could even be in this position. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder next time, I’m sor–”

“Stop saying silly things.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice choked up, cracking in his chest. “I can do better.”

Thwack.

“Ow!”

A sharp pain shot over his forehead. It took Jungkook a moment to realize he had been flicked. His eyes snapped open, snapping his head up to gawk, slack-jawed. The older man looked annoyed, looking down at him with a hand still on Jungkook’s right shoulder. He lowered his right hand, shaking his head with a sigh, wave of black hair drifting over his left eye.

“Jungkook, please, can you listen to me for once in your life?”

Rubbing his forehead with his left hand. Less ow but still ow. “What?” Didn’t he listen pretty well? Er, sometimes. But hyung liked the bratty thing!

“You really think I give a shit about quantity over quality?” Even being scolded in that husky voice wasn’t that bad. Those dark, dark eyes narrowed and Jungkook instinctively felt his spine stiffen. Ahem. Right. Listening. “Bro, I’m not keeping count. Every once in a while, I like to discuss about how the sex was and what you liked about it. Me, I don’t stop unless I’m satisfied. It isn’t the number of orgasms or what exactly happens that is the satisfying part for me. The satisfying part is you.”

“But if I was better… wait, what?”

You.

Jungkook pointed to himself, eyes widening. “Me?”

Eye roll. “Yeah, you, idiot.”

And then that face was close, suddenly dropping down. Green tea. Marshmallow. Herbal and warm. Soft black hair, even darker eyes, plush mauve lips in a small smirk. The shine in that gaze, the solidness of that hand on his shoulder, and that expression absolutely not having any of Jungkook’s bullshit.

“I chose you.”

Pause.

Half-smile.

“Is this about Yoongi?”

Jungkook found he couldn’t say anything but he didn’t have to.

Silence was telling.

His hyung nodded. “Whether it is or not. Whether you believe me or not… I’m not comparing. I don’t compare you to him or anyone else. I don’t like people near me. I don’t like doing things I don’t like doing. But I like being near you. I like learning the things you like and I like doing them for you. Are there things you do that aggravate me? Yeah, like this stubbornness you have about not telling me what’s bothering you sooner so I can set you straight. But I chose you. I’m stubborn too, and you’re not going to change my mind.”

Closing the distance.

His left hand slipped away and now they were forehead to forehead, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I… I can do better for you…” Jungkook whispered to the darkness.

 “You’re already loads better than the first time. Couple more loads and we’ll reevaluate.”

“Hey!”

The darkness sparkled.

The pause that followed, not uncomfortable but substantial.

A fleeting kiss and lingering words.

“You’re mine. And don’t you forget it.”

-

“Do you need help in there?”

“No. Shut up.”

Did he have to pull up the listing on his phone to figure out the strap situation? Yeah, maybe. Perhaps he shouldn’t wear the harness? Well, he had already gotten it halfway on. Sigh. Okay, zip this up, straighten this out, lace up these hook-and-eyes, turn it around, put the damn frilly ass apron on, and…

Min Yoongi looked at himself in the mirror.

What the fuck am I doing?

He couldn’t walk out like this.

It had been a stupid idea and now the stupid had gone too far. Was all this really worth the bit? Fuck, he couldn’t even look himself in the eye. Yoongi spied the white ruffled headband by the sink and crammed it on. Ack. Pulled it off and readjusted the front of his black hair to frame his face and then rest the headband behind. Should he tie his hair back? He reached up and collected some of his hair back. It didn’t give a “pretty” look. He left it down, pulling more of it forward. Smoothed out the mid-thigh length black skirt. It was made of a thicker material that had more body and swish to it. He hadn’t liked any of the cheap costume options when he searched around, so instead Yoongi had selected clothing pieces that matched and made his own outfit.

Flowy white blouse with a high collar and large black velvet bow.

Fitted black corset over it.

Black skirt with the added touch of a white ruffled apron and sheer black thigh-highs.

And, under it all, a surprise.

He had thought about buying an easy costume. Trashy and slutty and fuckable. He had even looked into the latex options but reading up on the meticulous preparation and the sweaty aftermath (and the smell, ew), uh, nah. Besides, if he other male had done as he asked, with the silver rings and all, Yoongi would have felt silly in a costume. No, he wanted it to be obvious that some thought had been put into this. He had wanted it to be a conscious effort.

Okay, and also Yoongi wanted to look somewhat hot.

He wanted to be able to pick styles that looked good on him, not throw on some poorly-made get-up. Not that he knew if this was a sexy outfit or not. He didn’t mind seeing himself in a more feminine silhouette. Dare he say his slender frame worked in his favor here? Well, anyway, it was more the implications of why he was wearing it. And what he was going to do in it.

Um.

Should he have brought makeup? Shit.

You’re stalling.

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbled under his breath, snatching his cologne from the counter and dousing his neck. Who cared about makeup? He was still a man. He was only wearing different clothes that he usually did. Yoongi was just trying a different look. His boyfriend didn’t want a different person.

His.

What?

Yoongi abruptly spun around and yanked open the bathroom door. His face felt like it was on fire.

“Oh, good, I was beginning to think you fell in the toilet–”

Dead silence.

Damn, the man who sometimes called himself Dionysus looked good. Sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread open. Dressier than usual, just as Yoongi had asked. Black slacks. Black brocade dress shirt with embroidered white flowers. Pressed, fitted black vest. Long fingers spread out on the bed, each one adorned with sterling silver rings. Black hair swept to the left, longer than usual, brushing against his jaw, exposing his right ear and the thin silver chain connecting one of the helix piercings to the lobe.

Yoongi managed to push his hand away from the doorframe, breathing out slowly.

“Hello… Master.”

The other man was malfunctioning.

“H… Hah?”

Staring at him with a stunned look. Wide eyes and slack jaw included. It actually helped Yoongi stand a little straighter and relax a little bit. At least he wasn’t being laughed at. He frowned and held onto his left elbow with this right hand, unsure what to do now. The pressure of his right forearm over his corseted waist helped ease the nervousness a bit.

He didn’t plan a whole maid roleplay or anything.

The other male sat up attentively. “You didn’t say it was a maid outfit.”

“Well.” Yoongi looked away, feeling his cheeks flush hotter. “It is the most classic S-and-M costume, right?”

“Hmmmm, I’ve never seen this set before. Did you pick the pieces individually and plan the outfit?”

Weird that he noticed so fast. But nice. “Y… Yeah…”

“Oh? How thoughtful.”

Ack, what was this? Yoongi was suddenly hyperaware of the air between his legs and the effect of words. And tone. And… shit. He was doing that thing. He let go of his arm and stuck his hands by his thighs, hiding his balled-up fists in the swish of the skirt. He didn’t notice that the other man was standing right in front of him until it was too late, freezing up as the shadow appeared. Snapping his head up to a familiar smirk on mauve lips, sparkling dark orbs watching his every move with amusement.

“How do you feel?”

Like my ribcage is gonna explode! Just fuck me so I don’t have to say anything!

“F-Fine.”

Racing sparks shot up his spine as an exploring fingertip traced his chin. Yoongi realized he had gotten used to the stripped-down version of his lover. He had gotten used to the t-shirts, the comfy pants, the lack of rings, the messy hair, and the natural sexiness of every move. The other man was mindful of how he held himself, but at home there wasn’t an air of showmanship nor a sharp outfit to hide behind. He didn’t believe in giving it all away at once. After all, this was a man who chose an alias for most of the general public to address him.

But.

Yoongi could tell right away when people were perfectly comfortable in their appearance reflecting who they were inside. He was witnessing it right now. Those fingertips slid down his neck, caressing the velvet bow. Their eyes locked. Darkness to anticipation. Their colognes mixed together at their close proximity. His, citrus, sharp, dark. Melding with green tea, marshmallow, and intoxication.

They called him Dionysus.

But Yoongi called him…

“What did you call me again?”

Love.

“Master.”

A half-smile. “You’re taking this pretty seriously, hm?”

Instead of his usual witty response, Yoongi remained calm, aiming to shift the mood into their respective headspaces.

“I always take serving you seriously, Master.”

The playful expression remained, but the air was different now. Hotter. The taller male raised his hands, backing off slightly, looking up and down unashamedly. It was less objectifying than it was a detailed overview.

“You look good in a skirt.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Raised eyebrow.

Yoongi shrugged. “My legs are as nice as any girl group member. Nicer, even.”

A mirthful laugh. Movement. He was unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them back, exposing his wrists and forearms. A heavy silver chain bracelet on his left wrist. “I do like your legs wrapped around me, so maybe you’re onto something.” There was a peek of silver chain around his neck too. That’s right. He had shown Yoongi a necklace he had purchased recently, a heavy sterling silver pendant that could hold a guitar pick, so, naturally.

He had asked for one of Yoongi’s.

“W-What are you doing?”

Small smirk. “Preparing.”

“For what?” he snapped back. Yoongi hadn’t meant his voice to bristle but what how the hell was he supposed to react? He was in a skirt, for fuck’s sake! And an apron! And a damn frilly headband and they were going to–

He froze as a heavily ringed hand gripped his chin.

Insatiable dark, dark eyes.

“For you.”

He couldn’t move as that head tilted, smirk turning into the grin of a devil, and then those lips were on his. Dangerously soft and to the pattern of a pulse, keeping an infuriating distance between them. Yoongi felt himself reach up, but another hand stopped him, tight grip around his wrist, silver rings cutting into his skin and making him gasp. The hand on his chin slipped away, stalking around his shoulder and around his neck, pressing his trapped hand against his chest.

His body tensed.

The leather harness cut into his torso. A breath too tight.

He whimpered into the kiss.

A pause.

Yoongi could feel the taller male staring at him but he didn’t dare open his eyes.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” he muttered immediately.

“No as in yes or no as in I’m not supposed to know yet?” the gentle, stern voice pressed.

Yoongi opened his eyes slowly, not making eye contact but appreciating the shape of those perfect lips instead.

“No as in shut the fuck up and let me do my job.”

He glanced up with a glare.

Playful amusement and deliciously intrigued.

“You know, you’re a really bossy maid.”

Yeah, well, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself do the whole helpless schtick they did in porn movies because that shit would be way too embarrassing, not to mention not his personality at all. Besides, Yoongi knew him well enough. There was no fun in dominating a helpless creature. No satisfaction unless there was resistance.

Also, his boyfriend was obsessed with Jungkook, so he must love fucking a freaking annoying brat.

“And you’re not going anywhere dressed like that,” Yoongi snapped, lifting his hands towards the vest.

Only to get slapped away.

“Oh? Why not?”

Bro, do you wanna fuck or what? He tried not to let his frustration show. “Then where would you be going?” Okay, fine, he would play along. For now.

Casual shrug. “A date.”

Are you serious? His annoyance must have shown, because that relaxed expression became subtly arrogant. “Why would you need to go on a date–” When I’m literally right here! The fuck I put all this on for?!

“Are you implying that I don’t need someone else to touch me?”

Hook, line, sinker.

Yoongi gawked at him, dumbstruck.

The other male raised a finger and toyed with the edge of the velvet bow along his neck. “I can’t say I like the idea either, but masters and maids are supposed to be professional. Lines can’t be crossed. It is better if I leave right now.”

Wait, what the fuck was going on? Where they actually being themselves or roleplaying? How deep were they getting into this? This was a joke, right? There was no way he was just going to up and leave Yoongi in his cute maid outfit with blue balls and go off sucking somebody else’s face. The fuck was that? The anger flared up hot. I’m not your actual maid, you fuckin’ idi–

But before jealousy cloud his vision, a ringed hand covered his mouth.

Swift and with one yank, the velvet ribbon was undone.

“Lines can’t be crossed.”

Why did it feel as if the other man towered over him? He wasn’t so much taller, but there was such an obvious difference between the calm and the fury. A curtain of black hair trapped Yoongi in shadow.

“But there are no rules in this unbreakable heaven, right?” that husky voice whispered, low and dark.

Yoongi couldn’t say anything.

He just nodded, his blood racing in his veins.

Those dark, dark eyes seemed satisfied.

“Hold out your hands, my darling.”

His legs turned to jelly. What? The world was an electric haze. The fuck he just say? His hands raised automatically, gasp tittering in his throat as he felt the velvet wind around his wrists, then pivot perpendicular to tie around itself in the center, knowing exactly that it was the other male doing it with a smile, acting as if he didn’t just create a whole rollercoaster of emotions in less than five minutes.

But Yoongi could do nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing but listen.

“Kneel down for me.”

Obediently, tucking his calves under him, being careful and proper about it. The skirt flared out, covering his legs and feet entirely. Yoongi straightened his back, not wanting to look sloppy. It was impossible to slouch in the corset anyway. He didn’t feel like a different person but there was a strange exhilaration at the wrongness of it all. He settled his bound hands in his lap and looked up.

The other man stood above him, smiling, thumbs in the edge of his slacks.

“I like it.”

His cheeks warmed but Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to say anything because, fuck, he found himself enjoying it too. His fingers curled in the thick fabric of the skirt. Tightness in his core. Desire swirling, radiating. He didn’t break eye contact.

“You don’t like the idea of someone else touching me?” the other male asked again.

Yoongi frowned. “Why would you want that anyway?” he countered sharply. “They wouldn’t be able to satisfy you.”

That piercing gaze narrowed. A heavy hand on his head, tilting it back.

It made his entire body shiver with delight.

“They could learn.”

“He doesn’t count.”

Pause.

Raised eyebrow.

Now who the fuck are you referring to, Min Yoongi? But he told his brain to shut up, shut up.

“Jungkook wouldn’t do this for you,” he breathed out, shuddering with need.

A penetrating gaze. “It’s not a competition, Yoongi.”

Yeah, it wasn’t.

“Different people are capable of different things.”

Oh, he knew. He could see it. He did see it. And he definitely didn’t mean for it to come out that way, because he didn’t hate watching their entangled bodies. The roughness. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. There was something wrong with him, surely. It wasn’t a competition but Yoongi did love the intense competitive surge he felt whenever he witnessed them together. It made him want to do more.

Be more.

Be his.

“Look at me.”

He didn’t want to look anywhere else.

“L... Let me serve you, Master.”

So calm it was beautiful. The hand on his head left, sending a tingle trickling down his spine as he adjusted the headband to complete the image. Appreciating it. He nodded. Reached down, silver rings flashing in the light, unbuttoning his slacks. It was only then that Yoongi noticed the subtle tent.

Two fingers beckoning him forward.

“Unzip me.”

Under the skirt, Yoongi squeezed his thighs together. Bit his lip and raised his tied hands. He had done this action enough times but this time felt different. Like he had to be better. More subservient. Maybe it was all in his head. He gripped the thin zipper pull, tugging it away from the body to avoid catching onto anything. The prickling of his skin intensified as he realized the other man wasn’t wearing underwear.

He darted his gaze up.

The devil’s smirk shrugged nonchalantly. “Why bother when we were clearly going to get naked anyway?”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Besides, there was an important task in front of him. He ran his fingers over the swelling length, the familiar velvety skin under his fingertips. Fuck, he had such a pretty cock. Due to his hands being bound together, he ended up bracing his palms along the underside and wrapping his fingers around the girth, inhaling sharply as he felt it twitch in his hands.

His own cock was mirroring, but Yoongi couldn’t touch it.

Yoongi looked up again.

His Master was disturbingly collected at being caressed like this. He kept his hands behind his back, not interfering. A regal stance. Must have also collected the hem of his dress shirt as well to hold it up and out of the way.

“Ah uh, no hands. That’s cheating. Back on your knees they go.”

He lingered a moment before obeying. Dancing along the fine line of punishment. Breathe in. Breathe out. The base of his palms touched his knees. It wasn’t that different from their normal sex, but the tension… It was impossible to explain. As if the possibilities that had suddenly expanded became a feeling, a thrill unmatched due to the lack of fear.

Yoongi opened his mouth.

Tongue sliding out.

Heat.

The strong taste made him moan, closing his lips around the hard length.

This? This he was good at. This was familiar hardness against his tongue, pushing it up to the roof of his mouth, sliding down deep to take it all. Slow, especially against the head, curling lips around it and rubbing slickness to velvet before choking himself again on the thick tip. Fuck, he could die like this. It was wrong on so many levels, the whole scene, and yet it was so right, opening his eyes to see himself being admired from above, the top few buttons of the brocade shirt undone to reveal those prominent collarbones and sterling silver guitar pick necklace. Heavy, weighted.

Always keeping a piece of me with him.

Those mauve lips curved upwards.

“Your mouth is the fucking best, Yoongi.”

One of those ringed hands lowered and skimmed across, following the top of those thighs that the slacks were still trapped around. There was something additionally arousing about still being in their clothes. Their roles still maintained. Yoongi felt something press against his lower lip.

Ah.

He tipped his head back and flicked his tongue over the other man’s balls, stimulating them each time he went down, heart beating fast as he saw the tension ripple out. It was a real effort to loosen enough to sweep his tongue out and then back to tightness around the head, but a challenge was a turn-on and Yoongi was no quitter, rising a bit on his knees to take in that cock deeper. Paid close attention to his throat muscles and his lip movement, keeping the pressure consistent and forceful, not giving up.

How could he?

Ugh, he was addicted to those low, soft moans. Addicted to the subtle twitch against his tongue, addicted to the hardness and the way that girth stretched out his throat, shivering, feeling pre-cum drip down his own thighs, but he couldn’t touch himself, no, not unless instructed. No hands. He slowed down a bit, wanting to make it last longer, tucking his tongue around each of those balls pressed against his lower lip and chin, strings of saliva dripping down his chin. Didn’t care. Yoongi knew the other man liked it. The cock in his mouth was so damn hard that his jaw ached. He kind of wanted it in his ass right now, but Yoongi was confident that he could get his Master hard again.

After all, his mouth was the best.

The man of excess would know.

He looked up again, intensifying the pace.

He watched those broad shoulders shudder, open-mouthed smirk watching him.

“Fuck, I love your eyes.”

Yoongi could say the same thing, but his mouth was currently full of dick.

He stopped teasing the balls and completely focused on the shaft. Molding it against tongue and lips, wet friction, slick and firm. No hands, so of course he had to be extra careful to use the force of his torso rather than his neck that needed to stay relaxed so he could swallow it all as deep as possible. Closing his eyes, basking in the attention, becoming the pleasure he wanted to give – tight, wet, deep – fast enough to not be ignored but steady enough to build up that inevitable orgasm, close, desperate for the taste, his fingers twisting into the hem of his skirt, whimpering in the back of his throat, craving it, the leather body harness under his clothes digging in to his rapidly rising and falling chest.

So close.

“Don’t choke, my darling,” that husky voice murmured above him.

Then he felt the sudden grasp of his head and the force of hips pushing down his throat. He sure as hell wasn’t going to choke at the rapidly expanding pocket of cum jammed down his throat but, um, hello, did Yoongi just hear that correctly? He was so startled that he griped the bottom of the pants, shivering as he swallowed, gripping tightly. Fire raced over his skin. His nerves singed, alight. Again with the ‘my darling’?! He was delusional. He was hearing shit he wanted to hear. Yeah, that was the only explanation. He kept his mouth closed, swallowing again, shuddering as he felt those hips roll, pushing in and out, remaining hard against his tongue.

Using him.

Yes, this was the safe space, being used.

“Stand up for me.”

Oh, shit.

He stumbled a little, wincing at the pins and needles, but strong hands helped him up. Pulled him closer. Yoongi looked away, busying himself with wiping his chin and straightening his outfit. His headband was somewhere on the floor. Welp. It was the cheapest part of the outfit. He let himself be dragged towards the bed, not saying anything. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Ah he was overthinking this, but how could he not? Was he supposed to act like a girl? A maid? Himself as a maid? Uh.

“H-Hey, what are you doing–?”

“Stand still.”

Yoongi suddenly found his legs sandwiched between two very strong thighs as his Master untied the velvet knot. Oh. He kept his silence as the knot was carefully deconstructed and undone, not making a sound at it was tossed aside. He liked watching those hands work. They were meticulous, treating him with care.

Then, those hands disappeared.

Yoongi raised his head.

Then froze as dark, dark eyes captured him along with ringed fingers closing in around his thighs.

“Uh.”

The sharp tone interrupted him.

“My title?”

Up his skirt. Fingertips traced the tops of the sheer, thigh-high stockings. Flicking the elastic, almost making him flinch as it snapped back into place. His hands had involuntarily found their way to those shoulders, gripping them for balance. He didn’t really want to say it so close. The other male waited patiently, squeezing the backs of his thighs but not going higher or more towards the center.

Yoongi swallowed.

The butterflies in his ribcage threatened to explode.

“Yes… Master?”

A devil’s smile.

“You know why I like skirts, Yoongi?”

“… No?”

They were sitting on the edge of the bed, until they weren’t. The other man scooted back a little and then Yoongi nearly yelped when he was grabbed by his bare ass and lifted. Thankfully, he was able to compose himself and not yell, even when the other male forced his knees in between Yoongi’s and made him straddle his lap. Yoongi’s knees now on the bed and he was fully clutching onto the taller male’s shoulders to avoid toppling over.

“Wait, I’m nak–”

“I can touch everything and you still look pretty,” his Master laughed, tickling warm breath against Yoongi’s neck. “Oh, looks like you had the same idea I did. Great minds think alike.”

This ass! “You can’t just violate–”

Yoongi stopped dead mid-sentence.

Those dark, dark eyes sparkled.

“I can’t what?”

But Yoongi couldn’t say anything because he already did.

He simply froze as those hands kneaded him, ring bands indenting his skin, gasping softly as he felt fingertips brush up against the straps along his legs. The bottom of the chest harness connected to straps around the tops of his thighs so it didn’t ride up. Well, it did, but only in the most delicious of ways. There was another strap around his waist and ones decorating around his chest and back, but for right now the leather below was all that was revealed. The issue was that Yoongi hadn’t really figured out if he was meant to wear underwear or not, because he didn’t want to have to take off the harness during sex and he didn’t want to wear boxer briefs over it. That would be fucking weird.

So, he just figured to go commando.

Of course, that also meant his cock had leaked pre-cum all over his inner thighs and the butt plug in his ass was now being played with since it was easily discovered.

“Ah… d-don’t…”

“Don’t?”

His Master clicked his tongue, disapproving and sensual all at once. He was tugging and pushing the flared base of the metal but plug in and out, creating a slow, maddening pace. Yoongi had picked a medium-sized one. Didn’t know how long he was going to have it in, but wanted to be prepared and all that.

“I do what I want with you, Yoongi. I am your Master, and you are my plaything.”

Fuck, he was so damn cocky but the pleasure was immense, breaking him down. Yoongi hadn’t even realized how the need to be touched had heightened and now the sudden devoted attention was making his jaw clench and his eyelids flutter, a gasping moan escaping him as warm fingers closed around his neglected cock, immediately becoming stiffer at the coaxing strokes.

“I… o-oh, fuck…”

Somehow his arms had slid around to the other man’s back and his head dipped down, forehead against shoulder, his hands splaying over the vest. The corset prevented him from bending over any further, but he couldn’t really see anything due to the skirt anyway. Probably for the best, because if Yoongi saw that hand covered in those rings, he would want to cover them with his cum immediately.

“Our clothes… f-fuck… You’re going to ruin our clothes,” he mumbled, biting back a moan as his cock was choked and the butt plug was fully shoved into his ass with deliberate force.

“You mean you’re going to ruin our clothes.”

Yoongi bit his lower lip and hissed behind his teeth, locking his arms around the other man and trying very hard not to orgasm as the persistent strokes started up again. There was no logic in holding himself back other than his own stubbornness and, of course, prompting his Master to edge him, which he did so happily. Too happily, first driving him so close that Yoongi buried his lips into the other man’s neck and almost screamed, only to be cut off with a firm squeeze to the head, causing his whole body to spasm with need, and then building the second orgasm by dropping his cock completely to toy with the butt plug instead. Holding his ass open with one hand, rings leaving indecent indents, and using his right hand to pull out the plug completely, circling the exposed, shivering hole with the tip, and then shoving it back in, creating a mortifying wet sucking sound that was a combination of lube and his tight ass.

Yoongi was determined not to embarrass himself with begging.

He deserved a reward for merely mewling for release, feeling his cock bob and smack his inner thighs, so close but not close enough.

“What’s that?”

Fuck, don’t make me say it.

Yoongi whimpered under his breath.

“P… Please…”

The response was sweet venom.

“Please what?”

He should have known. This sadist. Yoongi had half a mind to use his real name but he resisted and remained a good little maid.

“Please fuck me, Master.”

It was worth it.

He still had to be patient, of course. Honestly, Yoongi was beginning to enjoy being dragged along a little, held close by the waist as he was placed firmly on top of the other man on the bed. The apron was tossed aside. He held onto the other male’s shoulders as the hook-and-eyes were undone, not quite looking him in the face. Probably had something to do with how hot his cheeks felt right now. The corset was tugged out of the skirt. His blouse fell out with it, covering them in a curtain of white chiffon.

They undressed each other.

Usually, it was faster and with voracious greed. But this time, it was button by button. Dismantling his vest, chancing a moment to raise his gaze and see himself being observed. Not in a discerning way. No, more in a…

Dare he believe it?

Adored way.

I am so fucked.

“I enjoyed the packaging, but you look better naked, Yoongi.”

“… Shut up.”

He leaned down as the zipper of his skirt was undone, pressing his lips to exposed skin. He felt a racing heartbeat under his kiss, heard the soft sigh of contentment above him. There was only a single stray button holding the blouse together, but Yoongi didn’t let the other man access it, instead skimming his lips down that torso, inhaling the scent of cologne and warm skin. He took the skirt with him, untangling it from his legs and pushing it down the bottom edge of the bed. The stockings were loose too, so he got rid of them as well, tugging down the slacks in his descent. The other man got the hint and helped him out, shedding the rest of their lower clothes.

He closed his mouth around his Master’s cock.

“Yoongi… ah…”

He was soft but only for a moment. It was the perfect opportunity to loop his tongue around those balls as he worked that length to its hardest, running his tongue along the underside of the head, popping his lips softly at the ridge, kneading those thighs under his hands. Blowjobs on the bed were a different story. He had the most control here and the help of gravity, pushing all the way down into his throat until he couldn’t breathe and then, again, moaning as fingers tangled into his hair and locked his head in place, those hips rising into his mouth instead, fucking his throat slow and hard.

“That’s enough. Come up here and show me what’s hiding under your shirt.”

Heat rushed into his face. Shit. He tried to resist. Kept his lips locked around that hard cock, but a sharp pull of his hair sent a flare of pain that could not be ignored and he winced, gasping and clawing up the bed as he was decisively dragged up by his head. Saliva dripped down his chin, his mouth open, panting hard as he rose by force, his palms struggling to find footing in the sheets, meeting a cocked eyebrow and impassive expression.

Yoongi was above, but he felt below this dominant energy.

Fingertips touched his stomach.

The inhale caught in his throat.

Those dark, dark eyes did not look away.

No words exchanged. The touch traveled up. Up. Stopping at the leather straps, snapping each one against Yoongi’s skin. He whimpered, still held by his hair, shuddering. He could feel the onyx stones of some of those sterling silver rings. His blouse still held a single button, but it was rising with the forearm sliding up under it. And then.

The buttonhole was a little too big for the small mother-of-pearl button.

The shirt popped open.

For a moment, the darkness remained locked in gaze.

And then the man who called himself Dionysus at times looked down.

Yoongi shut his eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep down his neck. It wasn’t so much the leather harness itself but rather the obviousness of how fucking down bad he was. Fuck, I need to get a grip– but any more thoughts were gone in a snap, his eyes shooting open at the sharp pain, his shoulders flexing to tighten the tension of the leather. Looking down, watching and feeling a thumb rub into his hard nipple, and then, snap! Gasping as the strap smacked back against his skin, excitement pooling down his stomach as another long finger pulled back on another strap, taking it as far as it would go, and moaning as it hit him in the recoil of being let go.

Holy.

Fuck.

His back was arched so the straps along the front were all taut. His damn ass in the air and all. Fuck. The white blouse had slipped down his shoulders, his torso jerking at the inflicted pain, his hair falling into his face, sweat breaking out along his forehead, his inner muscles clenching around the butt plug.

Fuck it.

Yoongi couldn’t wait any longer.

He reached past the other male and grabbed the towel on the nightstand. Didn’t bother to ask. Threw aside his shirt and reached back, jaw tightening as he gripped the base of the anal plug. It was a little slippery from the lube but, as he always prepared beforehand, it was clean. He was almost lightheaded with hunger as he pulled it out, whimpering at the loss, rolling it into the towel and placing the bundle back onto the nightstand.

Leaving the black leather body harness on.

Naturally, Yoongi wanted to be fucked in it.

“Aw, I wanted to bend you over and make you lift your skirt to show me.”

“Next time,” Yoongi growled back, twitching at the thought. “What position?”

The devil’s smile returned.

“How else? Ride me.”

Yoongi felt the color drain from his face. This sadist really wants to hammer it home, huh. “F… Fine.”

He was already in position. There wasn’t far to move. He just had to position his hips and lift his hard cock to look down and see the other man gripping his girth with his right hand, slowly stroking himself, white pre-cum beading against the dark purple head.

The silver rings gleamed under him.

“Want a condom?”

He shook his head. “I prepped. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not. Asking for your comfort.”

Yoongi glanced up.

Fuck, he was so damn hot. The guitar pick necklace was bunched up, the pendant stuck in between his collarbones. Shirt and vest still clinging around his upper arms. Didn’t seem bothered by it. Yoongi swallowed, lowering himself.

“Not too slow,” that throaty voice hummed. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

Normally Yoongi would tell him to go fuck himself but presently he was too horny and too subservient to care, which was precisely why he held open his own ass, relaxed, and sank down. The other male held himself steady, exhaling deeply as he slid in. Still bigger than a plug, fuck, and Yoongi snapped his head back, gasping at the fullness, letting go of his own cock and gripping his thighs, trying to get used to the size. He figured he had enough experience with anal by now but, fuck, he was so damn hard and thick.

Fuck.

He was given a moment to adjust.

Then Yoongi felt a hand close around his leaking cock.

“W-What…?”

This sadist had the audacity to raise his free left hand and press his index finger to his full lips.

“Less talking. More moving.”

You…

Yoongi felt the stiff length twitch inside him and he groaned, rocking his hips into it. Their clothes on the floor. The skirt. The stockings. The apron. The blouse. The pleasure mounting with him, filling himself again and again, using gravity and lust to his advantage, tightening his core to make the pleasure radiate. Gripping the sheets next to his calves, feeling the leather straps cut into his chest, his nipples getting hard at the pain, watching himself get jacked off with that hand covered in silver rings, inescapable ecstasy radiating up his spine.

“I… I’m going to… cum all over your stomach…” Yoongi gasped, whining as he hit his favorite spot, fuck, so deep and so full, relishing in being used like a plaything for pleasure while being pushed to his own limit.

His boyfriend grinned like the devil.

“Mhm, that’s the goal.”

It was an obscene scene.

In retrospect, Yoongi couldn’t outline all the details of it. He was too far gone, too turned on and too many sensations deep to remember how long it lasted. Tipping his head back, thrusting that cock deep into his ass, moaning as he felt the strap at his waist being caught, pulled, digging the straps into his back instead of his chest, feeling the tightness around his upper thighs, violent pleasure building between his spread-open legs, his cock throbbing in a punishing grip, closer, gasping.

Closer.

“F-Fuck!”

He tucked his chin down in dismay, groaning while he watched his hips flinch and felt his cock pulse, dripping out a stream of white across the other man’s lower belly. The hand stopped but his climax didn’t, searing him with blinding pleasure as more cum shot out and smeared everywhere, staining the air with the scent of semen. Yoongi gasped, reeling, and then whined. Two hands clasped around his hips and the other male thrust up into him, hard, again, again, sending Yoongi’s eyes rolling back at the roughness, pitching forward and catching himself with his palms, losing himself to the fucking from below, trying to assist, but the orgasm was too fresh and his body was still limp, forcing him to merely hold on and take it, again, again, deep, hard, used like a plaything.

My darling.

Yoongi moaned as he felt the jerking cock spill into him, pumping him full of cum.

The forbidden name escaped his lips, pleading.

Yoongi could never explain how the other male had the strength. Maybe it was some kind of freakish adrenaline. One moment he was on top, still disoriented from the brutality, the next, he was on his back, his own cum sticking to his lower stomach and crotch, arms and hands around his back and ass to hold him in place when he was lifted. The fuck? And the cock was still inside his ass by some miracle.

Wait.

He…

His Master was still hard.

Yoongi gasped, feeling the cum inside him squish as the other male clenched his jaw and slid back in, slow and deliberate. Pleasuring himself. Instinctively, Yoongi pressed his thighs to the other male’s sides, surprised to feel the brocade shirt was somehow still on. In fact, there was sweat sliding down that chest, which almost never happened. He was usually never hot.

Well, also, Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time he had been creampied and continuously fucked.

He wasn’t complaining though.

He couldn’t say anything at all, desperately panting, the pleasure too much to worry about silly things like breathing, grabbing onto the shirt collar and thrusting up to meet those hips. Both of them moaned in unison, cum sticking between them, lost in lust, forgetting responsibilities and fucking instead, so close, so full, the squishing, slapping sound getting louder and louder.

A low growl.

“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.”

His words jumbled together and barely made any sense.

“Fuck, yes, in me, fuck, cum in me.”

The hips smacked together.

The rising lust burst, pumping him full of cum again, his eyes cracking open to witness. Lashes lowered, mauve lips parted, the tip of pink tongue over white teeth, carnal satisfaction melting over his features. Weighted exhale drifting out. Warmth spreading over Yoongi’s arms.

Yoongi gripped onto the shirt collar, staring up at him.

There’s no one else for me.

Those dark, dark orbs shifted and looked down at him.

“Happy?” the husky voice panted, smirking slightly.

He had a witty response prepared but he promptly forgot it. “Yeah. That was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

The smirk widened, pleased. “You’ve said that before.”

“It’s true every time. You get better.”

A wink. “Helps when you’ve got a tight virgin ass.”

Yoongi felt his eyebrow twitch. He regretted being honest. “Shut up. Get off me.”

“Um, you seem to forget I pumped your ass full of cum.”

“Sounds like your problem.”

“This is our home, remember, which makes it our problem.”

Yes, it was, but Min Yoongi took a leaf out of Jeon Jungkook’s book and remained a brat. His boyfriend liked that shit, as evidenced by the bickering, and the later not-so-punishing punishment of being bent over in the shower to get his ass fucked again because he was being freaking annoying. Ah, love.

What?

Yoongi didn’t just think that. Nope.

--

masterpost

#bts smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jungkook x male wiyllt #yoongi x male wiyllt #jungkook x male oc #yoongi x male oc

[illneverrecover]

make it right - epilogue | kth & knj (M)

➛pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader  ft. Kim Namjoon x reader ➛summary: He had offered to be there with you when you read it, which you had considered. He has always been supportive of you and your emotions, and you knew you could rely on him to be your rock through this, too, should you need it. But there was a little piece of you that felt it was important to be willing to face this alone; willing to face the consequences and fallout of your actions without the crutch of your current love.  ➛genre: starting out musician!AU, smut, angst. SMANGST. ➛word count: 5327 ➛rating: explicit/mature ➛warnings: mentions of previous infidelity, mentions of mature situations, a lot of talk about healing and self reflection, also about self growth, cursing, previous installments contain smut.  ➛notes: Well this was a long, long time coming. If you’ve stuck around this long - I appreciate you more than you will know!  Many apologies for the wait, but damn, was life being a bitch for a hot minute. This was very cathartic for me to write for many reasons, and I hope you enjoy! Just to be clear, this series isn’t here to romanticize infidelity, or make light of it -- but instead show how things aren’t always so black and white in real life. In reality, there are numerous, messy shades of grey, and things can become complicated very easily. This is barely edited and completely unbeta’ed, as I’m trying to be more authentic and less of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing as a personal goal in 2023. It’s been holding me back for far too long, and I’ve missed being creative. Be gentle, and let me know what you think! (P.S. - if you pick up on the TS reference, pls know I’m giving you a forehead kiss)  ➛song: everythinggoes (with Nell) - RM, NELL & Girl of My Dreams (with SUGA) - Juice WRLD, SUGA, BTS  ➛tagging: @jimins-ass-eater, @thatlongspringnight​ ➛Chapter 1 ➛ Chapter 2  ➛ Chapter 3

Everything, everything, everything goes 

Time passes. Despite change, despite everything moving and falling apart and rebuilding again, time always passes. It is unavoidable, it is necessary. It is healing simply in its existence.  

Namjoon sees that now more than anything. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year – a year since you walked out, since everything changed. Since his actions and inactions had finally caught up to him, and so had the consequences. 

He wanted to blame you. It would be easier to do so, he thought in the beginning, considering how everything fell apart. But it wouldn’t be honest, and it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He thought himself a good man, after all, and good men accept the fallout from their misdeeds. They dig deep and do some introspection and maybe see a therapist, and they try to be better.

He wanted to be better. 

It wasn’t easy. Looking into the depths of his mind and soul and inspecting his worst flaws is a raw, painful thing at any time, but especially after what had happened. He meditated more, channeled his feelings into his writing in the studio, and continued to work on himself. His relationship with the new producer, Mina, continued to blossom, but this time without the tainting of his indiscretions, without the shame and guilt. Namjoon found what grew between them was more beautiful this way; tending to the soil and ensuring proper watering allowed him to be his sincere, natural self, giving way to a love that came easy. 

It was hard when Yoongi left the studio, though Namjoon would be lying if he said he didn’t see it coming. It was on good terms, thanks to both of them being pragmatic despite their friendship, but it still stung. Another consequence to his transgressions, another person affected by his shortcomings. Yoongi had told him he was thinking of opening his own studio for a while, but Namjoon was almost positive the incident (and the aftermath) is what accelerated his timeline and had him leaving a few months later. 

Taehyung’s resignation had been less surprising, though equally professional. He offered to finish out his contract or to leave immediately – not wanting to leave the studio hanging, but also knowing the position this was putting Namjoon in. Namjoon could appreciate the gesture, even through the betrayal, and allowed the younger man to finish up some tracks and part ways amicably. It wasn’t long before Taehyung’s name was being released as Yoongi’s first talent, and though it felt like someone had punched him in the chest, Namjoon couldn’t help but be proud. 

He would always support them, even if they didn’t know it.

He poured himself into his work,  into his music. His first passion, his first love. She always welcomed him with warm arms, always gave him confidence and solitude to work through whatever melodies and cacophonies were clouding his mind. And as he worked through self reflection and discovery, she was there to help him work through the tougher emotions, the painful feelings, until he had a full fledged album. A raw and new piece of his soul, ready to share with the world, whenever Namjoon was ready to be vulnerable. 

So much had changed in a year. He isn’t sure if this present version of himself would even recognize the Namjoon from before, the person that he was. But he knows he wants to continue to impress that version of himself, and make him proud. 

He was ready to share his music — and himself — with the world,  but before he could, he needed to do one last thing. 

Taehyung wasn’t sure why Namjoon had wanted to see him.

His mind began racing the minute he received the text, saw the name that he hadn’t had the guts to ever delete or block from his phone. It had been almost a year since he had last been in communication with the man, when he had put in his notice at the studio.

So much had changed in a year. He had signed with Yoongi, worked extremely hard in the new studio,  and was making music he was really, really proud of. And to top it all off, he was doing it with you by his side, out in the open, for the world to see. No longer having to hide his love was one of the best things to ever happen to Taehyung, and he’d never tire of basking you in it. 

But Namjoon had asked to meet for coffee, and Taehyung couldn’t think of a reason to say no. If anything, he felt like he owed his old friend - his hyung, his brother - the time and space to say whatever it was he wanted to him. It was the least he could do, considering. 

Taehyung doesn’t regret loving you, but the guilt still gnaws at him from time to time over how things went down with Namjoon. It was you who would always reassure him that if anyone was to blame, it was you, and would help him work through his feelings. 

He had thought about reaching out to Namjoon in the months following the aftermath – to apologize, to explain where he was coming from, how genuine his feelings were for you, that he never meant to hurt him – but realized that this would only be to assuage his own shame and guilt, not because it would be anything that Namjoon actually needed to hear. That didn’t seem fair to put on him, after everything else, and so he vowed to keep his apologies to his journal for the time being. Resolved that if Namjoon wanted closure, he would let him know. 

Taehyung  hopes that’s what this meeting is about, if he’s being honest with himself. He has run this scenario through his head a million times, and out of all the conclusions he could reach, it would be the ideal one. Certainly, Namjoon would have every right to ask him to meet up if only to have a chance to give him a solid sucker punch in the face, and Taehyung wouldn’t be able to fault him for that. 

But despite knowing that things will never be the same, he would at least like for there to be peace between the two of them, for your sake if nothing else.

The coffee shop is spacious, well lit by the copious windows adorning the front of the building, and fairly quiet, considering its size. Mismatched plush couches and chairs decorated the room alongside coffee tables of varying shapes and forms, surrounded by walls lined with bookshelves stuffed to the brim. It is a very Namjoon place to pick, Taehyung thinks, deciding to peruse the menu and order before searching for his friend. 

He finds Namjoon in a back corner, tucked in an alcove that is built into the bookshelves, the only booth in the entire shop. He has one hand cupped around a mug of hot liquid, the other scrolling his phone, not seeing Taehyung approach.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung slides himself into the booth opposite him. 

“Hey,”

Namjoon’s eyes flick up, surprise on his face quickly melting into a familiar grin. “Hey, Taehyung. How are you? You look well,”

Taehyung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders relaxing at the elder’s tone. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m doing well. How about you? You look great,” he compliments, realizing that he means it. Namjoon has more life and color in his face than Taehyung remembered seeing in years, a new softness in his eyes that makes him seem lighter, more free. “You look happy.”

“Thank you, I’m getting there,” Namjoon chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “It’s been a lot of work, but it’s been worth it.”

For a moment, they just smile and nod at each other, a comfortable and familiar silence stretching between them. There’s  so much that Taehyung wants to ask, that he wants to say, but he follows Namjoon’s lead, instead sipping on his hot chocolate while he waits for the other man to speak.

“So, there’s some things that I need to say to you. And it might be a lot, and I’ll probably talk for a stupid amount of time, but I’m asking for you to listen ‘til the end, if you could,” Namjoon pauses then, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he winces. “If it’s too much, or if you don’t have the time for this, then I understand completely, but–”

“No, of course I have time, it’s okay. I want to hear what you have to say.” Taehyung reassures, giving him a nod. “Whatever you need.”

Namjoon smiles, taking a deep breath. 

“When I first met Y/N, she was… the brightest light,” he looks down at his drink, face softening. “So bright that she drew everyone to her like moths to flame. I was so drawn to her, so attracted to her light. That first night at the karaoke bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She was shining so bright, and everyone was watching. I normally wouldn’t approach someone in a bar, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. I knew I’d kick myself if I didn’t go over, or if someone else did first, so I finally went up to her. Told her some corny joke, and she laughed hysterically.” He laughs to himself, and Taehyung smiles. That sounds like the you he knows, too. “And the moment she laughed, I was instantly hooked. I asked for her number, about floating out of that bar when she kissed me. We became inseparable. Spent all of our time together, and the rest happened quickly. I’m sure you know how she is – it’s so easy to get wrapped up in her warmth, her fire.”

Taehyung dips his chin, his lips curling  into a smirk against his volition. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

Namjoon’s jaw flexes at those words, otherwise he seems to have no reaction, swallowing before he continues. 

“After she moved in, things were good – comfortable, a little predictable, but good. I felt safe and confident,  knowing that she was always there, always around when I needed a bit of that light. And eventually, that comfort became complacency.” Namjoon shakes his head, drawing another breath. “I started taking advantage of the fact that she would be there when I needed. I got wrapped up in my music, and instead of trying to bring her into that with me, or share that piece of myself, I shut her out. Told myself she wouldn’t understand. Convinced myself that it would be okay once my hard work paid off and she could see the final product. But looking back, it was all excuses to be selfish and to do whatever I wanted, knowing that she loved me enough to put up with it.” 

“I’m not proud of myself for that. There’s thousands, millions of different ways that you can kill the person you love. The slowest way is not loving them enough, not giving them enough of your time – but not having the strength to let them go. She tried talking to me, telling me what she needed from me, begging me to spend time with her, and instead of being strong enough to let her go, I kept making promises I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep. It was fucked up, what I did. I just- I wasn’t ready to lose that fire,”

Taehyung didn’t trust his voice, so instead he nods, easily empathizing with the older man. He intimately knows that fire that Namjoon spoke of, understood its siren call, the unbelievable warmth it is to be loved by you. But at the same time, he realizes how much Namjoon’s admission gets under his skin – knowing that you were in that much pain, remembering seeing you suffer, watching you fall apart and try to hide it from everyone – it angers him, hearing Namjoon own to the fact that he knew he was hurting you, but didn’t walk away.

He must not be schooling  his face as well as he thinks,  because Namjoon sighs as he rubs his face with his hand. “I get it. Trust me, I know it wasn’t okay. But when you’ve been in the dark for so long, finding someone like Y/N – you want to be loved by her, want just a piece of that for yourself. I’m not justifying my actions, but hopefully explaining where my mind was at the time,” he continues, taking a sip of his drink. “I was already not being the man she needed, already not meeting her expectations. And when Mina started at the studio, and started helping me with some of the tracks… I hate to say it, but it was easy to let myself get distracted. I was so wrapped up in myself and what was going on with me, I didn’t see just how far away she had slipped - not only emotionally, but physically, intimately. It seemed like it went from incessant texts about when I was coming home, begging to spend time with me, to… nothing at all. She went radio silent, started going out of the house more, started hanging around you guys more.  I remember thinking to myself, ‘Well at least it seems like she’s found something to entertain herself, now she won’t always worry about me’. How clueless could I be? So fucking stupid, and selfish.” 

Namjoon gives the younger man a moment to process his words before he continues. “After everything went down, I… I’m not proud of this, but I got drunk one night, and I kinda begged some information off of Jimin,” Namjoon winces again, casting his eyes down. “It’s not Jimin’s fault, I think he honestly just felt bad for me, so please don’t be upset with him. He really didn’t tell me much, but he confirmed that… the two of you,” he gestures with his hands towards Taehyung, “ started… being together on her birthday.”

Taehyung feels his heart drop in his chest, his pulse racing at the admission, unsure of why the fact that Namjoon now knew this piece of information makes him feel a bit more ashamed. 

“Which means, it started way after she had ‘the talk’ with me,  way after she began to pull away and I just let her go – hell, encouraged it, even.  When she showed up at the apartment the day I found out, Y/N kept telling me it didn’t matter what happened, or who’s fault it was… that we had both done hurtful things and it was time to move on. And I think even with her saying that, even as she was breaking things off with me, she was still trying to protect me in a way. Still trying to shoulder all of the blame, especially because of the affair. But the truth is, I don’t blame her for any of it. I blame myself.”

He meets Taehyung’s gaze straight on. “I may not have physically cheated, and sure, she may have been the first to step out, but what choice did I leave her? I abandoned her long before she got together with you. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I woke up one day and I stopped choosing her, and started only choosing myself. And the worst part is, she fought to try and fix things between us, and it was like I had blinders on.  I still couldn’t stop choosing myself. I was so damn cocky, so sure of myself…” He swallows thickly. “She still fought, still chose me over and over, so it never crossed my mind that she would cheat. But honestly, I don’t blame her. She wasn’t being taken care of the way she should, the way she deserved.”

Taehyung is surprised to see tears welling in Namjoon’s eyes; the sheer amount of emotion he is willing to share in front of him shocking overall. Namjoon always keeps things so close to the chest.

“And then you swooped in and saved the day,” Namjoon continues, giving the younger man a wry grin. “Again, I get it. I can understand why you were drawn to her, why you were drawn to each other. I was mad, at first. Jealous mostly, if I was being honest with myself, but that’s because I’ve always been a bit possessive. But the more I sat with my thoughts, the more I realized that I was… relieved. Relieved to know that she had someone during that time, that she was being taken care of in all the ways that I failed to. Relieved to know that it was with someone that I know and trust to truly have her best interest at heart. That if it was anyone, it was you.”

Now it’s Taehyung’s turn to have his smile turn watery and soft. “Namjoon, I-”

“No, you promised to let me finish, remember?”

He doesn’t wait for confirmation before speaking again. “I know it sounds crazy, but that's why I asked you to come here. I wanted..” he trails away, hands fidgeting in his lap until his eyes snap to Taehyung. “I wanted to thank you, for taking care of her, for loving her. The way she should be… the way I couldn’t.” He doesn’t hide his tears this time, instead letting one trail down his cheek. “And if it’s alright with you, I have basically written down what we spoke about today, and I would like to give this letter to her - along with the offer of a meet up, if she’d like. Before the album comes out.” 

That gets Taehyung’s attention. “What do you mean? Is there something she should be worried about, or-?”

“N-No! No, not at all, nothing like that,” Namjoon waves off the concern with a hand. “But there are some emotional songs that I worked on after the break up, and it feels like the right thing to do would be to give her the chance to hear them first, before everyone else.”

There is nothing that comes  to Taehyung’s mind that would be a good argument against that - Namjoon is right, it is the courteous thing to do, to allow her the privacy of that moment before the rest of the world had a chance to dissect it into a million pieces. 

“And I didn’t want to reach out without talking to you first, out of respect for you both. It didn’t feel right approaching her directly… again, I want to give her time to process, you know?” 

Taehyung nods in agreement, appreciating the foresight. “Thank you for that, I think that will mean a lot to her.” 

“So you’ll give it to her? The letter?”

There is a part of Taehyung that didn’t want to, if he was being honest, didn’t know if it’s worth reopening the old wounds that you had worked so hard to close. That chapter of your life was something you worked hard to move past, and though you made it clear you wished Namjoon well, you hadn’t asked to meet up with him in the year since the split. There really hasn’t been a need to, once you got your things out of the apartment and moved into Taehyung’s place. 

But if he makes that choice for you, would it be any better than what Namjoon had done? Would he be any better? 

“Of course. I can’t promise she’ll want to meet, but – I’ll give it to her, I promise.” 

Relief sags Namjoon’s shoulders, and he lowers his head in gratitude. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. And thank you again, for meeting with me today. I promise my only intention here is closure, and respect.” 

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say something now?”

“Taehyung, you really don’t have to, there isn’t anything to say–”

“Just let me get this off my chest, please,” Taehyung begs, a hint of desperation in his gaze. “I know this probably doesn’t mean much, and I completely understand why… but for the record, I am so sorry that I hurt you. I wish it hadn’t come to that.” 

“Come on, Tae, like I said-”

“Let me finish.” Taehyung raises his voice slightly, just enough that Namjoon knows he’s serious. “I sincerely mean that. I don’t regret being with Y/N, and I won’t pretend to. I really do love her, and your words and… approval,” he chokes on the word, as if the marvel of it isn’t lost on him, “mean more to me than I think you can understand. But I really hate that you were hurt in the process, regardless of what was going on at the time.”

Namjoon waits, taking another sip of his drink to ensure Taehyung is finished before speaking again. 

“Apology accepted. I appreciate you saying that, really. But I mean… what would you have done differently? No matter what choices were made, the outcome was inevitable. She was never going to tolerate my shit forever, and it was the catalyst. Considering I wasn’t exactly innocent in my behaviors, either, I get it. It wasn’t okay, what any of us did, but I get it.” 

The world is never as black and white as we would like it to be, never as quickly and neatly explained as the human brain would prefer. There are many shades of the foggy grays and dark misty blacks and every level of fading ink in between, a messy cacophony of varying gradients. If anyone can understand that, it’s Taehyung. 

“That’s probably the best way to put it. It wasn’t okay, but I get it. What you did, what we all did. But I do think people are capable of change, if they truly want it. And it sounds like you’ve come a long way,” Taehyung gives a wide grin then, feeling the lightest he has in a long time. “ I wish you nothing but luck and success in your journey - both with your love life and with your music. I genuinely mean that, Joon. We’ll always be rooting for you.” 

Namjoon matches the younger man's carefree smile, any remaining tension easing away from his posture. “Thanks, bro. I’m always rooting for you guys, too. All of you - Yoongi included. If you ever need anything, even just some ears or a hype man, I’m here.”

More pleasantries and gratitudes are exchanged before Namjoon is standing, pulling Taehyung into a quick embrace before gearing up to  leave the coffee shop, holding up a buzzing phone in explanation. “Sorry, I gotta take this - thanks again!”

Everything changes, and everything stays the same.

You aren’t sure how long you stare at the letter before you decide to open it. It must be a few hours at least, because Taehyung had given it to you in the bright light of early afternoon, and now the sky was turning faded pinks and oranges, sun ready to rest for the day. 

He had offered to be there with you when you read it, which you had considered. He has always been supportive of you and your emotions, and you knew you could rely on him to be your rock through this, too, should you need it. 

But there was a little piece of you that felt it was important to be willing to face this alone; willing to face the consequences and fallout of your actions without the crutch of your current love. 

Your friends had rallied around you after the initial fallout, surprisingly, and though you weren’t sure you had deserved that, you certainly appreciated them for it. They gave you the confidence to keep moving forward, to battle with your demons, and you would always be grateful to them for showing up in your time of need. 

You are stronger now, more healed than you were when you had last seen Namjoon a year ago. Not fully healed, because healing isn’t linear, but you are working on it and yourself. An excellent therapist had been the start of the self love journey, and it was with her help that you were able to confront some difficult truths and soothe old wounds, feeling more secure in your skin than you had in years. 

You had even started working on your music again, though you could say that was Yoongi’s fault if anything, since he kept saying he was tired of you lounging around his studio for free. He had practically shoved you into the booth one day, asking for you to warm up and lay a raw track for some backing vocals to earn your keep, and you had complied easily. It wasn’t the worst thing he could have you doing there, and it soothed you to be able to work with music, even in a small capacity.

And Taehyung.

Taehyung had been amazing through it all;  your grounding peace during the storm, your home in the form of a person. His devotion and endless understanding and love was more than you could dream of, more than you ever thought you would know, and you can’t help but to feel like the luckiest person in the world to get to experience it.

Picking up the letter, you take a deep breath, centering yourself before folding it open, eyes quickly scanning the words awaiting you. 

He wasn’t mad, wasn’t angry. Instead, he was apologizing, giving explanations for his actions while telling you  not to blame yourself, offering to meet up to talk things out if you’d like. Or if you didn’t want to talk, to at least get a copy of his new album so that you could listen to it before it dropped, since there were some personal songs included that he thought you may want to hear in private.

Overall, it was a short note; but kind, considerate. A softer side of the Namjoon you used to remember, from the early days. 

You didn’t need to think about how you wanted to proceed, instead picking up your phone and sending a text to your ex-fiancé.

It had been you that insisted on meeting some place outside, wanting to keep the encounter quick and pleasant. You weren’t sure how he was going to reply to your text letting him know that you were willing to meet for the album, but not to talk, but in standard Namjoon style, he didn’t seem bothered. Taehyung told you he supported your decision no matter what, which you knew would be his response, but you truly didn’t feel the need to continue to hash this out. You had both apologized and moved on, and the past was in the past. 

You certainly appreciate his dedication to his own healing, and can empathize with the need of writing a letter for closure, but that was enough for you. You didn’t need anything else in order to forgive him. 

You had forgiven him long ago. 

You and Taehyung made plans to listen to the album together, knowing that you would want his warmth and comfort both physically and emotionally during, and you let that thought comfort you as you walk towards the meeting point, eyes scanning the park for the taller man. 

A tap on your shoulder has you turning, peering up at a dimpled grin. 

“Hey,”

You give him a shy smile. “Hi, Joon.”

He has a small manila envelope in his hands, your name scrolled in black sharpie on the front, and his fingers tap against the material a few times before he thrusts it towards you. 

“Well, here it is. It’s a USB, but it has all the songs plus the album concept art. I hope you like it, but uh, even if you don’t, I thought it was only right to let you hear it before everyone else does.”

His awkwardness makes you want to giggle, but you stifle the urge, not wanting to make him feel self conscious. Taking the parcel from his hands, you slide it in your bag before glancing back up at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate that. I’m sure I will like it. Your music has always been amazing.”

The tips of Namjoon’s ears start to redden, and he scoffs bashfully. “Ahh, you gotta warn me before you say nice things to me, I’m not prepared.”

You laugh then, his deeper chuckle joining in after a few moments, and it felt good to laugh so carefree with him again. Something you didn’t think you would ever have the chance to do. 

“Well, it was good to see you, Joon. Thanks for this,” you tap your bag twice, “I’m excited to listen.” 

“Thanks. It was good to see you as well, you look great. Really h-happy,” Namjoon stutters over his words, the sentiment rushing out, “It’s what you deserve - to be happy.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, a piece of your soul healed by the words you didn’t know you needed to hear out loud. 

“I am really happy,” you confirm, unable to hide your smile. “Like, almost disgustingly happy, it’s pretty annoying.” 

You laugh, but this time he doesn’t join you.

“Good.”

And before you can think of how to reply, he’s gone, faded back into the bustle of the crowd like he was never there.

Taehyung already has your favorite wine opened by the time you arrive home, a glass placed in your hand once you walk through the door. He’s all easy smiles, nonchalant as he asks about the meeting, steadfast and attentive as he listens while putting the finishing touches on dinner. 

He’s made one of your comfort meals, and you spoon it into bowls before carrying them into his office-slash-studio, cozying up on his lounger before putting the thumb drive into the computer. He queues it up, sliding the mouse closer to his reach as he settles beside you, pulling a blanket to cover your laps. 

You hand him his bowl, and he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s quick, but there’s heat underneath the gentle pressure of his mouth. 

“Are you ready?”

You look into his warm gaze, the affection evident in the soft way he drinks you in. He has one hand cupped around his bowl, the other on your thigh under the blanket, giving reassuring squeezes as the silence ebbs on. 

It’s not that you were afraid of what you would hear, or that you thought Namjoon would do anything to hurt you. But you know hearing your previous relationship's downfall from his point of view could bring up some lingering pain, and you wanted to be able to process and work through it so you could continue to heal.

It’s what he deserved, what you all deserved.

The old version of you wouldn’t be able to handle this, certainly not next to someone like Taehyung. Wouldn’t be able to bear the vulnerability, or having a witness to the potential flood of emotions that could come at any moment. But over this past year, you’ve learned that you are worthy of a love that makes you feel safe enough to be your authentic self - and in turn to allow your true self to be loved. 

You knew that you were safe, here under the blanket on the loveseat in Taehyung’s cozy little studio, next to the man you love. 

“I’m ready.” 

Just like the night leaves and the morning comes The spring leaves and summer comes, but Just like the flowers and summer sunshine Everything must be hurt Breathe the world The air in my lungs is full of cold air I want to run away From long hours of pain and dullness

 Everyday I pray (everyday I pray) That I may become a slightly better adult And everyday I stay (everyday I stay) People die with their pain one day We can not be eternity in dream Words like "Cheer up" can not be real Instead of plausible words It hope it goes like a wind (Everything, everything, everything goes Everything everything else goes)

#taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenario #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #taehyung fanfic #my writing #fic: make it right #fic: mir #fic: make it right epilogue #overly affectionate demon #bamjoon

[theflyingfeeling]

Ninth Day of Gift-Giving: Nice Compliments

Prompt: "You definitely have a talent for this. It’s awesome."

Resuming the sappy with this piece of the cuties making some music together (Rilla helped, of course, even if it's not explicitly implied; you just know she did 😌). Read the previous part here (yesterday's story was another horny standalone)

~

A pair of hands wrapped Olli in an embrace from behind as he was loading the coffee maker. Immediately he lost count of how many spoonfuls of coffee grounds he had already measured – and suddenly he didn’t really care either. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Aleksi asked, his tone as soft as the kisses he was leaving on Olli’s neck, so Olli knew he wasn’t actually upset. 

“Didn’t have the heart.” Olli thought back to waking up to fluffy-haired Aleksi sleeping peacefully beside him, offering Olli a chance to study his each and every feature until he couldn’t procrastinate going to the bathroom any longer. To make up for his absence, Olli had lifted Rilla on the bed and nearly awwed out loud at the dog slithering under Aleksi’s arm. Olli had only barely been able to keep himself from joining them, but he really did need to pee, and while he was up he thought he might as well start their breakfast preparations, like any good host would.

Aleksi kept holding him while he started the coffee routine again from the top; Olli had had enough of kitchen disasters in the past few days, and messing up something as simple as making coffee would be the cherry on the top of that cake. With Aleksi’s hands caressing Olli’s stomach and his lips sliding along Olli’s jawline, focusing on counting the spoonfuls wasn’t an easy task.

“I was thinking–” Olli started, pausing just to collect himself when Aleksi’s fingers momentarily slipped under the waistband of Olli’s sweatpants. He cleared his throat and continued: “Would you like to work on some music stuff today? Not for the band, just…”

For us, he wanted to say, but swallowed the words; he was still a little unsure of how sappy he was allowed to get at this point of their… whatever it was they were currently doing. 

(Indeed, maybe there was another reason for Olli to make his silent escape before Aleksi would awake: at times, despite all that had happened these past few days, there was a small voice in Olli’s head that still managed to trigger his self-doubt if he stopped to listen for too long. This voice, although much more quiet now than it used to be, kept trying to convince Olli that he was being too eager, too hopeful about it all and that all Aleksi was in for was just a bit of fun between friends. Alas, Olli was yet to gather the courage to bring it up with Aleksi properly, to sit down with him and make sure they were on the same page, because Olli for one was more than ready and willing to see if something real would come out of this, his fears and worries aside.)

“Could be fun,” Aleksi said. He had abandoned his task of peppering Olli’s jaw with kisses and was now in the middle of burying his nose in Olli’s hair. “It’s not like Rilla’s gonna want to spend much time outside anyway, not in this weather. So a day in sounds nice actually. Cosy.”

“Day in it is then,” Olli hummed. When Aleksi began leaving small kisses on Olli’s earleaf and temple, Olli closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep a blissful sigh from escaping his mouth. Then, when Aleksi simply laid his chin on Olli’s shoulder, his hands still petting Olli’s tummy, he decided to let the sigh out after all: with Aleksi’s touch so loving and gentle, how could Olli ever doubt his affection?

~*~

If someone asked Olli what the two of them had been working on in his home studio all day, he’d tell them they had finished a song. Mind you, he wouldn’t even be lying, merely stretching the truth a little; they had, very much indeed, finished a jazzy little tune on Aleksi’s laptop, with Olli providing the guitar riff and Aleksi, well, everything else more or less, with Olli’s enthusiastic help and commentary. However, it was only one minute long, and it had, in fact, taken them the whole day to finish, not because they had been polishing it to perfection for that long, but rather because they had constantly been distracted by each other. In Olli’s defence, where else was Olli supposed to sit when his legs got tired of crouching by the desk if not on Aleksi’s lap, since he was occupying Olli’s only office chair (fetching a kitchen stool for Olli had somehow not crossed their minds)? How else was Olli supposed to react to Aleksi sneaking his hand under Olli’s shirt if not by grinding his ass against Aleksi’s crotch, feeling his slight bulge? What else was Olli supposed to do when Aleksi’s mouth kept searching for his own if not turn around and hold Aleksi by the back of his neck, guiding their lips together over and over and over again? 

It was unreasonable to expect anything else, if Olli was being honest.

At around nine in the evening, with just a couple of snack breaks and walkies to interrupt their long slog, they were finally listening to the finished product. Olli was standing behind Aleksi, his fingers playing with his fluffy hair, and Rilla, having lazed around the whole day due to the low pressure weather, was sitting on Aleksi’s lap, as if she, too, wanted to be part of the premiere of their music project. 

From the first notes sounding from the speakers, Olli was in love. Even though he did have a music degree of his own and was more than familiar with the processes of music production, he was still blown away by how something that had started off with a few simple chords played on his old, slightly-off tune acoustic guitar could be turned into an actual song with just some clicks from Aleksi’s mouse, in just a few hours (excluding the time they had spent focusing more on each other than the song).

It had to be some kind of magic.

"Have I ever told you you really have a talent for this kinda stuff? It’s so awesome."

Aleksi didn’t say anything for a while, and Olli almost forgot about it as they listened to their little creation on loop. When Aleksi finally spoke, his voice sounded small all of a sudden.

“Thank you.” 

If Olli hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought Aleksi had been moved by Olli’s praise for him. In truth, he was probably just tired.

Nevertheless, Olli decided to say nothing of the quiet sniff he heard a moment later, almost inaudible from under the music. Instead he planted a kiss on the top of Aleksi’s hair and took his sweet time nuzzling the soft hair there.

Olli was in love, and maybe not just with the song.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #ollixallu #so so sappy and fluffy it's getting almost ridiculous at this point 🥰 #i promise there'll be some good ol' heartwrenching pining in tomorrow's story! 🖤