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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 15 days

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You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)

absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: rockstar au !! fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: drummer reader, some real 'where does the performance end and you begin' vibes, reader smokes, it's inferred that they're also drinking, y'all will have to pry bestie peter from my cold dead hands

a/n: oh uuuuuh more pining more yearning more I'm in love with you but I'm too afraid to make it real. like what if you were all in a band and you were all in love and you were all too scared of fucking it all up to say anything

"You're looking awful glum tonight," James points out as he leans against the railing of the balcony you're on. He doesn't reprimand you for sitting on the railing, but he does frown as he glances down to where the ground is, inching closer to you to place a firm hand on your thigh.

"I called the car around - I'm going back to the hotel. You can let the others know if they notice," you respond in a sigh, the smoke leaving your lungs on the exhale as you bring your cigarette to your lips for another drag.

"…Are you sober right now, love?" James asks, eyeing you carefully. You look at him bemusedly.

"You think I came to a party after our show and… didn't have a single drink?"

"Well…" he says carefully. You narrow your eyes and James grips your thigh a little tighter - a plead for you to hear him out. "You weren't exactly the life of the party tonight, lovely. You disappeared pretty quick. If you have been drinking, that means you've been doing it out here - alone, sitting very precariously on a very high balcony, with no one looking out for you." You've stopped looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the expansive driveway out front of whoever's house this is. When you see your car pull up, you put out your cigarette easily on the railing before sliding off of it, letting James keep a hand firmly on you, sliding from your thigh up to your waist.

"I don't need a babysitter, James," you say bluntly, but you can't help but soften a bit at the wide, sad eyes he gives you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. You wonder idly if he realizes he looks at you so often like he's a puppy you've just kicked. "I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsals," you offer gently before you slip away.

In the safety of the backseat of your car, tinted windows blocking out the gaze of the outside world, you let your head lean back against the seat, sighing and closing your eyes as you rub at your temples. The relief is short-lived, however, as the car door is pulled open and James slides into the seat next to you, grinning despite the glare you sent him.

"Didn't really think I'd let you go sit at the hotel sulking all night, did you?" He quips. You bristle.

"I don't sulk," you huff. His smile widens as the car pulls away.

"Sure you don't, sweetheart." He throws an arm around your shoulders and you let him, sighing as you lean against him, resting your head against his chest. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.

"Nothing," is your quick reply. He hums thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair gently.

"Wanna try again?" He's still gentle, a patience seeping from him into you that lulls you as you relax further against him.

"It's just a lot sometimes. I'm tired is all," you admit. James presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your heart does something funny in your chest.

"You're allowed to take a break every now and then, love," he offers. You tense.

"I don't need -"

"No, but you still can," he placates, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he silently coaxes you into relaxing once more. "I know you don't need to. God knows you'll run on fumes forever and never say a thing about it. But you don't need to - not here, not with us."

James, in all his mother-hen nature, continues to reprimand you in that gentle, caring way of his all the way up to your hotel room, only stopping when you shut yourself in the bathroom and turn the tap on so that you can't hear him. By the time you come out in clothes that are decidedly much more comfortable than what you'd been wearing at the party, he's lounging in your bed and flipping idly through TV channels.

"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you quip as you flop onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard. James grins in that beaming way that he's so fond of, turning the TV volume down to a low, background hum.

"Thanks, love." You scoff at his words.

"Are you planning on staying here all night?" You ask wearily. He pretends to think about it.

"What will you do if I leave?" You shrug, sliding further down in bed and crossing your arms. James opens his mouth to speak and you know he's going to say something about you sulking, so you make a point to wack him with a pillow before he can. He laughs good-naturedly about it, though, so you're not so sure what you've accomplished.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you don't have time to ponder it further before your hotel room door is swinging open and Sirius is flouncing into the room, Remus trailing in after him. You sigh and look at Remus imploringly, but he only shrugs, leaning towards you to squeeze your shoulder in what you're sure is supposed to be comforting before he settles in the armchair next to the bed. Sirius, on the other hand, takes to flopping directly across the bottom of the bed, landing on James's legs and causing some sort of friendly tussle between the two of them.

"This is actually my hotel room, you know," you point out dryly. "How did you even get in here?"

"You gave Peter your spare key," Remus points out.

"Peter doesn't come in unannounced," you shoot back. Sirius and James stop whatever roughhousing they're caught up in so that Sirius can lean over and press a sweaty kiss to your cheek. You click your tongue in annoyance and hope it hides the way your heart flips.

"Cheer up, doll," Sirius says, unperturbed by your scowl. "What were you playing at, anyway? Leaving without telling any of us and thinking we wouldn't notice? Like we wouldn't miss our favourite drummer." You shoot James a look that says you shouldn't have told them and he smiles disarmingly.

"Just because I'm staying in tonight doesn't mean you all have to - and I'm your only drummer, Sirius, in case you've forgotten," you say icily. Sirius smiles, but it's more honest than you're used to, and he reaches across James to smooth a thumb over your cheek quickly before pulling back.

"Could never forget you, love. Not even if I tried." You stare at him, his tone heavier than normal, as Remus shifts and clears his throat.

"Anyway, dove… we just want to make sure you're alright, yea?" He says, and you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding as the tension dissipates.

"Everything's fine," you say stubbornly. "I just didn't really feel like being there tonight."

"Well, we can see that," James chimes in. "But you always go to these things. You -"

"I know, I know, ok? I won't - it won't happen like that again, all right?" You huff. "I won't leave like that."

"No, see, I'm not sure you're understanding what Jamie's saying, love," Sirius says, the softness in his voice making your heart drop. It takes a lot for Sirius to be gentle, and he only does it when he thinks he really needs it. "What we're saying is that you don't have to. Pete never goes to the parties - we haven't kicked him out of the band yet, have we?"

"But that's different," you sigh, sitting up straighter. "Pete and I… are different kinds of performers. You know that." Remus leans forward in his chair to put a hand on your knee and you will yourself not to flinch at the contact, not to shy away from the kindness in his eyes that you know he reserves for the people he really loves.

"You don't have to perform here, love," Remus says gently. "You don't have to do that. Not here, not when it's just us." Your bottom lip trembles and you bunch the covers of the bed in your hands.

"Sometimes I think, for you lot, this life is fun… and for me, it's still work. I just can't make myself see it the way you guys do."

"But that's what we're here for," James offers, his voice kind. "Let us help you out. We decided to do this together for a reason, right? You decided to stick with us for a reason."

"I… I did, yea," you say.

"Yea," Sirius repeats. "So let us be here, alright?" Remus rubs his thumb across your knee as the other two look at you expectantly. You smile, a terse, small sort of thing - but it works nonetheless.

"Alright," you sigh. "Together, then."

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azrielbrainrot · 3 months

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Darling, I'd Wait for You, Even If You Didn't Ask Me To

Band!member!Azriel x College!Student!Reader

Description: You have a really bad day and Azriel is there to help you through it.

Warnings: A little angst

Word Count: 4328

Notes: I don't know how I feel about this one but this is an important moment in their relationship. Hope you enjoy!

this story is part of the band universe

It feels like you are running on autopilot as you climb the steps to Azriel's apartment floor, not even waiting for the elevator. The only thing your body seems to be concerned with is delivering you to your destination before it gives out, whatever it takes. You and Azriel got really close ever since you met him almost two months ago, still, this might be too much to drop on him. You're not even sure why you decided to come to him instead of Viviane but it had been your first thought, your only thought in fact.

Your mind only starts catching up to you after you knock on his door too hard with your cold hands, the pain giving you a moment of clarity long enough to realize the voice you hear behind the door isn't Azriel's but his roommate's. This makes you take notice of yourself. You must look like a trainwreck with your tear streaked face and damp clothes from the rain, holding onto your duffel bag like it's your last lifeline.

However, you don't have time to try to make yourself more presentable before Cassian opens the door. The smile that seems to always be glued to his face drops as soon as he takes you in, saying your name in question. You're not sure if it's because of the emotional overload you're going through or if it's just surprise and embarrassment at being caught like this, but you just stare at him, unable to move your body or form any words in response.

He's quick to pull you into the apartment, closing the door behind you. Cassian is a lovely guy but the truth is you don't know him that well, only met him a couple of times, you feel guilty that he had to see you like this. When you decided to come here you didn't remember he and Azriel lived together, didn't even think of the possibility of running into anyone besides him. It might have not even been a conscious decision, your heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces and by the time your mind thought of going to Azriel, your body seemed to already be taking you his way.

“Are you okay?” He grabs your shoulders and looks you up and down, making sure you're not physically injured. You can't be sure but you're positive you didn't do anything besides look at him wide eyed.

He takes the heavy duffel bag off your shoulder and it's only then your arm feels the effort it took to carry it for the entire way, it was surely going to be sore the next day. You vaguely hear him call Azriel's name but it only registers when you see him come out of his bedroom, looking scared and confused.

As if your previous impression hadn't been bad enough, you run to him and wrap your arms around his waist as soon as you see him, burying your face in his chest and letting your tears finally fall freely. He's frozen for a second, not sure of what is happening, but he wraps his arms around you promptly. Unfortunately, this only makes you sob and shake harder into him.

Azriel was having a hard time trying to figure out what to do, it isn't every day that his friends run to him in tears, holding onto him like their life depends on it. He hasn't known you for that long either, doesn't really know how to best console you so he decides it's best to let you cry it out before trying to talk to you and it seems like you intend to do it into his shirt.

Your sobs were getting louder and you were shaking so much with each one that he's convinced your body wouldn't be able to keep you upright if it wasn't for him. Nodding at a wide eyed Cassian, he pretty much picks you up off the floor and takes you to the privacy of his room. Sitting down on the bed with you on his lap and just stroking your head, hoping it helps you at least a little.

After what must have been close to an hour, you start coming to little by little, vaguely aware that Azriel had moved you and was murmuring softly that it's going to be okay, finally letting yourself think back on what happened. You've been dreading break all semester for this exact reason. You knew the moment you stepped foot back in your hometown, you wouldn't be able to push the situation to the back of your mind anymore.

As soon as you left the train station, you got in an uber directly to Eleanor's house, not even stopping by your parent's house to greet them or drop off your bag. Even before arriving you knew the conversation was only going to hurt you but you couldn't have predicted how much. You only faintly remember her cries for forgiveness as you left her house in a rush, you remember the anger you felt as you heard her begging as if she wasn't the one who hurt you.

Eventually the sobs shaking your body subside and you're left holding onto Azriel. Your body was starting to scream at you for being in the same position for so long so you move your hands from where they were clinging to his shirt, pull your face back from the now damp fabric, cringing softly at the feeling and darker patch you leave behind, and move to wrap your arms around his neck instead, straightening your back and leaning your head on his shoulder. Letting out a soft sigh when his hand moves with you, stroking your back comfortingly.

“Do you feel better now?” You can feel him talking with how close you're pressing to him. You're a bit embarrassed by the position, sitting on his lap and clinging to him so much, but the comfort it's giving you far outweighs it and, in this moment, you just can't bring yourself to care. You just nod in response to his question.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He squeezes a little harder when he feels you tense up slightly. It's not that you don't want to tell him but talking about everything just makes it even more real. “You don't have to. I can just keep holding you for as long as you need me to.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. Azriel has a beautiful voice, one you're currently hearing whispering softly in your ear, and a way with words, you'd expect nothing less from a songwriter really. Still, sometimes it made your body all tingly and you were left wondering if you were reading too much into things or if there was more at play between you two. You can't deny that your relationship is different from any other you've ever had, you've never felt this comfortable with someone so quickly.

Letting out another sigh, you pull away from him enough to see his face. Regardless of what he says, you can't actually stay wrapped in his arms and ignore the truth forever. You catch his eyes for the first time tonight and the concern you see in them has you trying to pull yourself together. You don't want to worry him too much, you'd hate to think he was sad because of you. It's bad enough you ruined his night. And Cassian's. You'll have to apologize to his roommate the next time you see him.

It takes you a lot more effort than it should, but you move away from him, unwrapping your arms from around him and sliding off his lap. He lets you, not moving from his position against the headboard, only flexing his hands as if he wanted to reach out when he takes a look at you. You run your hand over your face trying to catch any lingering tears and over your hair, it's still damp from the rain. Gods, you don't know what you were thinking.

“Did I ever tell you about Eleanor?” You know the answer already. Before this whole situation you probably would have found a way to mention her with any new friend you made, she was such an integral part of your life, but now you avoided even saying her name out loud. He shakes his head, straightening himself and staring into your eyes, listening intently.

“Me and Eleanor met when we were kids, we've been friends ever since,” you have to clench your eyes to avoid any more tears at the thought, “She was my best friend. I never thought it would get to this.” You would have believed almost anything over this actually.

“I had this boyfriend through the last years of high school - Parker. I broke up with him right after graduation. I was moving here for university and, honestly, I think I was dating him out of habit at that point. The breakup didn't really affect me much, I was excited to start over in Velaris so I wasn't thinking about it.” You look down at your hands, this is the first time you're telling anyone all of this. “But a few months ago, I got a call from my mom telling me Eleanor and Parker were dating. I was confused because me and El were still talking almost every day and a little hurt that out of everyone she chose him, without at least warning me. I thought it had to be a lie or misunderstanding.”

“I called her asking about it and she confirmed it. That was the last time we talked until today.” You look back up at him, almost forgetting he was there. Actually saying these things out loud was strangely cathartic. “I've been ignoring it the whole semester, I knew knowing more was going to be more painful but I had no more excuses when I went home for break,” you let out a weak sigh, “I went to her house and she told me they only started dating after we broke up,” you can't help the pathetic tremble in your voice, “she said they've been in love since we were dating but they didn't want to hurt me so they didn't say anything. She almost made it sound like they were doing me a favor.”

You get up from the bed, your sadness turning into anger. “I'm not even sure how long they've been fucking behind my back. She told me they only kissed at a couple parties when they were drunk but she was hiding this whole thing from me for months at least so who knows what else she lied about. And if they were in love with each other the whole time me and Parker were together then they must have at least talked about it. I can't even trust her. She was my best friend and I can't even trust her.” You're probably pacing like a crazy person around his room but with everything he's seen in the last hour, you can't even be bothered by it. “Gods, I'm such an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot.” You look back at him. His voice had an edge you've never heard on him before, his words coming out clipped behind a tense jaw. He was angry. “You didn't do anything wrong. She's a bad friend.” Something tells you he had to choose his words and ended up at the least offensive one, not the one he would have prefered to use.

You have to swallow down the instinct to defend her. Azriel was right. What she did to you was awful. She shouldn't have treated you like this, shouldn't have helped your boyfriend cheat on you, even if nothing had happened physically, and definitely shouldn't have pushed you aside so easily, ignoring your almost two decades of friendship over a boy.

You feel your shoulders sag a little, your angry outburst had burned the rest of your energy. It seems Azriel noticed it too because he gets up from the bed and walks over to where you're standing in the middle of his room, reaching out to grab your hand.

“You need to forget about it. They're not worth your tears.” The feeling of his rough skin playing your fingers distracts you momentarily.

“That's easier said than done.” Forgetting Eleanor would be impossible, she's part of your history, and, as much you hate to admit it, so would be forgetting Parker, he was your first boyfriend after all.

“Trust me, I know,” he looks down at your intertwined hands, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, “But lingering in the past doesn't help with anything. You need to let yourself feel it and then move on.” He looks back up at you and touches your cheek softly, wiping at the tears still staining your face. “And it feels like you've felt it enough for today.”

“You're right. It's late I should-”

“I'm not kicking you out,” his face breaks out in a tentative smile, “I'll go get your bag so you can change, your clothes are still damp. Don't want you to get sick. Then we'll get you some food, alright?” You can only nod. Coming here was the right decision, he was being incredibly gentle and caring with you.

He brings you your bag and takes you to the bathroom, telling you to change and clean yourself off a little, disappearing back into his room right after. As soon as you see your face in the mirror you realize he was being nice in his assessment, your entire face was puffy. Even after giving it a good wash you still looked like a mess. It truly looked like you cried your heart out, you suppose you did.

You also use this time to call your mom quickly and let her know you'll be coming home the next day instead. She had probably heard that you had come and gone already because she doesn't even question your decision or the way your voice cracks, small towns are both a blessing and a curse. You wonder what everyone in town was saying now that your ex boyfriend was dating your best friend. You gather your things to move back to Azriel's bedroom before your thoughts catch up to you. He's right, you've cried enough for today, cried a lot more than those two deserve as well.

Looking at yourself in the mirror one more time, you take a deep breath before joining him in his room again. Now that you've settled down more you're not really sure what to do or say. He drops his phone and stands up as soon as he sees you, walking over to take your bag from you and placing it on top of a chair. He changed out of the shirt you covered in tears and snot, you barely noticed since it was the same color as before but this one is tighter, it strains against his back and biceps enough that you have to look away.

With everything going on, you hadn't even looked around his room before. It was fairly simple and organized, the dark furniture and paintings fit his aesthetic in general and the navy comforter and curtains combo contrasted beautifully with the white walls. The low lights cast shadows around, making the room feel cozier too, you could see yourself spending days in here. You notice a couple notebooks sitting on his desk that you suspect he might use to write songs but his bass is missing.

“What?” Your confusion must have shown on your face because he looked more than amused at your obvious snooping.

“Your bass isn't here.”

“We practice upstairs in Rhys' penthouse so I just leave it there most times.” He says walking to the door. “Let's find you something to eat.” You nod before following him.

“You all live close to each other then.” You haven't seen them interact too much but it's obvious how close and comfortable they are with each other, brotherly even.

“Rhys' father owns the whole building,” he chuckles a little at your wide eyed expression, “he rented us this apartment for probably half what everyone else pays.” You look around on your way to what you can see now is the kitchen. It's a big space with high ceilings and lots of windows. You don't even want to think how rich Rhysand's father must be to own such a building.

“It's a really nice apartment.” You take a seat at one of the tall chairs around the kitchen table. The kitchen alone was probably bigger than your own bedroom, even the furniture felt expensive not to mention the marble countertops.

Thinking about it now, it makes sense that Azriel and Cassian couldn't really afford this big of an apartment in such a nice place in the city with their jobs at the record store and the gym, especially with how much you know they invest in their band.

“Yeah.” He opens his fridge and looks inside, trying to find anything to eat. Your stomach finally makes itself known at the thought, you haven't eaten since before the train ride to your hometown. “You should see the view from the top of the building though. It's the best part, I'll take you there sometime.” You watch him give up on his search and open the freezer instead.

“Is this okay?” He holds up a frozen pizza and you nod immediately. You have the same one sitting in your own freezer right now. You do find it cute how it seems like he's a little disappointed that this is the only thing he has to feed you right now. He looks like he was ready to cook you a five course meal.

“More than okay,” you give him a smile and keep talking as he moves to get it prepared, feeling the tension leave your body bit by bit the more you talk to him, “Did Cassian leave?”

“He's probably with Rhys up in his apartment.”

“I feel like I should apologize to him.” You can't imagine the emotions going through him at seeing a girl he barely knows show up crying at his doorstep. “I think I almost gave him a heart attack.”

“You don't have to worry about it,” he comes and sits across from you. “I told him you were feeling better before he left.” That had to have happened while you were in the bathroom. You don't know how good the soundproofing is around the house since you didn't even hear him leave but you hope he at least didn't hear you sobbing for an hour and the short outburst that followed. It's enough that Azriel witnessed it first hand.

“Maybe I should apologize to you too,” you find yourself twirling your thumbs to avoid his gaze, “that was… a lot,” you finish sheepishly.

“You don't have to thank me for anything.” Your eyes find his again, you've found it's hard to look away from him for long, especially if he's talking to you. Azriel is incredibly captivating, even under these fluorescent lights.

“I showed up at your doorstep out of nowhere and just cried my eyes out for over an hour,” you look over to the pizza getting ready in the oven, “and now you're even making me dinner.”

“You can show up at my door every day if you want. I'd rather you weren't crying but if that's what you need then I’ll be here,” the smile he gives you should be illegal, it's almost tempting you to do exactly as he says. “And I'll make you dinner as many times as you want me to,” he looks over to the oven just like you had done before, “I'm not sure this counts as cooking anyway.”

You want to tell him you don't remember the last time someone took care of you so attentively and effortlessly, that not everyone is this compassionate, but decide against it. After dinner comes out of the oven, you busy yourself with eating while Azriel tells you more about the band and their next concert, he's letting you take a breather and leads the conversation, something you're not sure he's used to doing and appreciate immensely.

When you're done and he's cleaning up things, you watch him awkwardly. You didn't have a plan when you came here at all but you definitely didn't expect to stay so long, don't really know what to do or say now after everything is done. It's getting late too so you should really leave and make your way back to your apartment. You cringe softly at the thought of having to go back there after telling your roommate that you wouldn't be back for another couple weeks, she probably took the chance to bring her boyfriend over.

“Come on,” Azriel says as he pats your shoulder softly, telling you to follow him to his bedroom. He probably has work tomorrow as well, you're being a nuisance. You speak up when you get to his bedroom, looking at his comfortable looking bed wistfully.

“I should go home now,” you look over at your bag, not looking forward to carrying it again, “It's getting late.”

“You can stay here,” he looks a little confused, like he had expected you to stay already.

“No, it's fine.” You'd love to stay with him, at least so you knew you wouldn't end up crying in your bed alone while trying not to listen to your roommate and her boyfriend. “My apartment isn't far.”

“I'm not letting you go anywhere.” He reaches up to stroke your cheek, examining your face with a slight pained expression. You hadn't stopped to think about it yet but it seems it's going to take some time before he forgets you sobbing in his arms, these soft touches and worried looks might linger a little. You wonder how your heart is going to handle them, you already have to tell yourself not to let these things get to you too much, that he's only doing them out of friendship, on a regular basis.

“If you think it's not a bother.”

“You could never be a bother.” When his band makes it big there are probably going to be thousands of people that will put up posters of this same smile in their room, you feel blessed to be able to witness it in real time and so intimately.

“We have a guest room but it's full of stuff,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck and looks over in what you assume is the direction of the room he's talking about. He looks a little embarrassed and it makes you wonder just how much and what kind of stuff he's talking about. “I'll stay there so you can sleep here. It's more comfortable anyway.”

“No,” you can't make him sleep in the guest room in his own house after everything he has done for you today, “You stay here, it's your room. I can even stay on the couch, I can sleep anywhere.” After this whole day, you think you could even sleep on the floor.

“I want you to stay here. You need to rest properly.”

“Then…” You let your words trail off. You've already asked so much of him but the way he's looking at you patiently has you working up the courage to make one more request, possibly the biggest one. “Can we both stay here? I'd rather not be alone honestly,” something you can't identify shifts in his eyes and it makes you rush to assure him, “only if you're comfortable that is.”

“I should be the one asking you that.” Did his voice get deeper? It feels like it.

“I don't mind.” You feel more than comfortable with him, you would trust him with your life really.

The problem is trying not to get flustered at just the thought of sleeping next to him. You had spent a good while cuddling up to him, sitting on his lap, but it had been the last thing on your mind. Now, as soon as you feel him lay down next to you and pull the covers over the both of you, laying facing you, he's the only thing in your mind.

He watches you for a second, studying your reactions to him, before reaching out to you and holding your waist softly. You nod instantly, but it's only after he pulls you closer to him that you realize this is what he meant. He lays down on his back and you lay your head down on his chest, letting your hand rest on his torso tentatively.

The moon and the few lights filtering through the window cast a bluish glow around his room and the soft beat of his heart starts lulling you to sleep almost immediately. It makes you relax further in his hold, shifting slightly to find the perfect spot against him.

“You're warm,” you mumble sleepily. He only hums in response, tucking you better in his sheets. It makes you smile against his chest.

You want to tell him it would be impossible to get cold when he's as warm as a furnace, that you usually don't wear sweatpants to bed either but, by the way he had awkwardly looked for clothes to sleep in earlier, you think he probably would be wearing a lot less if it weren't for you too. You really wouldn't mind feeling his skin on yours but you appreciate the thought.

“Sleep now, princess,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss your forehead softly. Princess? Your heart stutters in your chest but you're so tired that your body obeys him almost immediately, not giving you time to linger on the kiss or the nickname. And as you're laying in his arms, you don't feel so lost anymore.

taglist: @bookishbroadwaybish

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #divider by saradika #band au

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xirayn · 1 year

Text

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal)

Read Ch 1 of the full fic here

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Eddie is not too proud to admit that his singing isn't great. He can carry a tune, sure, but he doesn't have the control or confidence that he has with the guitar. There have also been times he has gotten lost in his playing and completely forgotten vocals. The rest of the band isn't much better. Gareth yells more than anything, Grant is notoriously pitchy, and Jeff's voice didn't work with the music they played.

It is a definite weak spot for the band, but Eddie has a plan.

The current song they are rehearsing comes to an abrupt stop when Steve starts down the driveway with his hands in his pockets. Eddie glances at the clock. His van is in the shop, so he is temporarily reliant on the Harrington Taxi Service the Party uses. Sure enough, it's his designated pickup time.

Eddie's eyes meet Steve’s. He smirks before launching into Master of Puppets. There is a beat before the band joins in. Steve rolls his eyes as the heavy rift growls through the air, but amusement tugs at the corner of his mouth.

They've listened to Metallica in the car as part of Eddie's attempts at improving Steve’s musical tastes. Other bands, as well, but Metallica is significant to both of them for obvious reasons. In return, Eddie has had to endure Steve's collection of new wave music. Considering he's getting rides for free, he doesn't complain more than the expected amount. 'Take on Me' also sounds a lot better to him in Steve's husky tenor.

Eddie steps back from the mic with his eyes sparkling with a dare. Steve accepts by walking up to the mic and Eddie practically vibrates as the first verse leaves Steve's lips. Eddie leans in to sing the echoes of the chorus into the mic with him. Electricity sparks and flashes between them; crackles through their skin as their hearts beat in time with the drums.

Eddie widens his stance. His hair flies as he gets fully into his performance. It takes him a moment to realize the rest of the band has stopped. They are staring at Steve with raw wonder.

"Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this, but can Harrington join the band?" Gareth says it as a joke, only he is looking at the others as if to gauge their reactions.

Steve simply laughs it off. "Sure, I'll have my people call your people. Come on, Eds. Get your stuff." He gestures vaguely in no direction at all and heads back to the car.

The band speaks in low murmurs as Eddie packs up. When he waves and starts to leave, Jeff ducks forward to grab his elbow.

"Hey, talk to him about it," he says, glancing over Eddie's shoulder at where Steve is leaning against the driver side door waiting. "Our vocals are weak and that was- We need that chemistry, man."

The plan is going as Eddie had planned before the word 'chemistry'. It rolls around his head; gathers thoughts and memories to become too large to ignore. A skipped heartbeat at the crinkle of Steve's smile or a look lingering on the curve of his jaw combines with times Eddie's mind had drifted to the other man to become a realization.

"Huh." Eddie looks back at Steve for a moment too long. He turns back to Jeff with a laugh in his eyes and a grin that is all teeth. This will be interesting. "Yeah, I'll talk to him."

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #steddie fic #Let Steve be in the band #stranger things au #steddie au

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neochan · 8 months

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RULE BREAKER (M)

PAIRING: rockstar!mark lee & fem!reader

GENRE: rockstar au! band au! pwop

SUMMARY: another city, another girl, another broken rule.

WC: 3.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & drugs, cursing, explicit sexual content, fingering, pretty tame smut ngl, spanking, choking, hair pulling

NOTE: this was just to get me back in the groove of smut writing since it's been a couple months. this is also a submission for @nctpromptmeme . this is prompt 1 of this list!

mark lee knows it’s against the rules to take a fan backstage.

it’s not the venues rules. staff members barely spare a glance when he tangles his fingers in yours and pulls you down the nearly abandoned hallways just left of the stage. he doesn’t get a second look from a wandering sound engineer when he escorts you through the jungle of metal rails supporting the stage from beneath. and no one bats an eye when he slips past security to an empty green room nearing the back of the building.

it’s not his own personal rule either. mark has done this plenty of times; choosing someone within the first few rows at his concert, playing up the eye contact, having a security guard slip them a note telling them to wait up after the concert — and it almost never fails. after the band bids goodnight, and fans filter out on the street, mark hops back on stage to greet his lucky winner.

and they’re always there, eyes aglow with excitement and shock when they realize that yes, this was real. mark lee wants them for the night. leader of pop punk band parasocial wants to meet…y/n.

the taste of your name rolls off his tongue so beautifully, so intoxicatingly, he has to repeat it a few more times once the green room door is locked and the curtains are drawn — not too loudly though.

because while it might not be the venues rules, and it certainly isn’t his own, he promised his band mates this couldn’t happen. he swore up and down they wouldn’t become those kinds of rockstars. everyone knows the type — scandal starters, excessive partiers, seen with a bottle of alcohol or tightly wrapped blunt in hand, escorting fans backstage at every show to....well, to do exactly what he was doing right now.

but mark isn't stupid, so he hides it from his bandmates; despite them breaking the rules so brazenly. jaemin stacks up scandals like spare drum sticks, jeno gets off on the attention & fame, renjun self medicates with alcohol, and haechan couldn't be labeled as anything other than a junkie. but he can't be like that, because mark is the leader. the one that has to walk a straight line — at least in public.

so when he's finally locked away in private with his lucky hit, he let's go. there's no need to be an upstanding, careful leader — he can shake off the tension, relax his shoulders, and focus on what's right in front of him.

which, at the moment, just so happened to be you.

"you're gorgeous, you know that?" a tender hand tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear, "couldn't keep my eyes off you tonight."

you can't believe mark lee is right in front of you, touching you, praising you. it's every fantasy you've had of him rolled into one. so when his hands wash over your top, fitting themselves so perfectly on your waist, you giggle and take a little step forward. his body is warm, and he smells smoky with a tinge of bourbon, but what's catching you off guard is how much prettier he is up close. eyeliner is smudged underneath his lashes, and there's blue hair dye running down the side of his neck, on par with rivulets of sweat. the metal bar through his eyebrow is real, and when he flicks his tongue out to lick at his lips, you find a matching tongue piercing.

he loves this.

the wide eyes, taking him all in. the giddiness. the oh my god mark lee is touching me; and while he might not get off on it as much as jeno, he can't help the feeling rushing straight to his cock.

after a few beats of becoming completely starstruck by him, you respond, clasping tightly onto the front of his shirt, "i mean i'm not all that special, but you...." a blush warms your cheeks, "you're out of this world."

it's a reference to one of the songs he sang tonight, so he let's out a forced chuckle and mumbles the rest of the line, "if galileo could see you, he would fall to his knees." he catches himself by surprise when he slowly sinks down onto the floor, the cold tile seeping through the rips in his jeans. his fist curls around the waistband of your skirt, eyes raking your figure. hunger clouds his eyes, but you don't care.

you want this.

he almost thinks you're backing out when you clamp a hand around his arm, but then you say something that makes his head spin on it's shoulders, "you don't have to be gentle...."

it's the desire in your eye, the same glint that matches his own, that permisses him to yank the flimsy skirt down around your ankles, nearly throwing you off balance in the process. "pretty girl wants it rough, huh?" mark pulls himself back up to his feet, one hand winding through your hair, the other knocking your thighs apart, "don't worry, i'll make you scream." his fingers open you up, just the tips of them pushing into you. already you're stretched on your tip toes, trying to run from the warming sensation below your navel. but mark catches this and gives a harsh tug on the roots of your hair, "feet down."

you're basically sinking down on his fingers when you settle on the balls of your feet, the stretch welcoming yet too intense for your body, "f-fuck." you curse.

"baby," he coos, "if you're drooling over two fingers, i don't think you'll be able to take my cock."

"i can, i promise." you mumble, face burning with embarrassment. not because you were under the rough hand of your favorite singer, not because he was teasing you about how tight you were, but because he was peering so fucking deep into your eyes, like he was searching for your soul.

"oh she promises," he mocks, pushing his fingers deeper. he can feel your walls fluttering around his digits; pulsing when they curl and brush the sweet spot he knows all too well.

you're out of breath, eyelids drooping with the weight of having to keep them open, "s-stop toying with me." you plead, nails raking the arm that's holding your body against the cinder block walls.

theres no snarky comment that follows. instead, he leans forward and captures your trembling lips with his own, and you see stars. it's exactly like you imagined it be — feverish, rough and demanding, exhausting every bit of willpower from you. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and his piercing clacks against your teeth, forcing a shiver down your spine. he smirks, that much you register, before bullying his tongue into your mouth, the hand between your legs matching.

too many sensations cloud your head — his hot tongue swirling around your own, forcing you to open up and taste each other, the metal ball on his tongue sticking against your teeth, and his fingers culling you into a head high. your eyes drift shut and you push your hips into his hands, all but grinding down.

mark lee might not have been a guitarist, but he sure did know how to use those hands of his. he sets back and licks his lips, letting out a shaky breath. the wet heat of you was drawing him in; he eases two fingers back inside until his knuckles pressed against your folds, and you sighed his name again. he was hard and aching now; listening to the soft pants that fell heavy as he thrust his fingers in and out. the hand that was threaded through your hair finds home on the sides of your throat, squeezing just enough to get your eyes fluttering open.

"whaddya doing sweetheart? sleeping?" he teases, his voice a drawn out purr in the quiet room, "i can't be that boring now, can i?"

when you try to shake your head no, this was far from boring, you find yourself stuck in his grip.

"maybe you want my cock instead?" marks eyes go soft, melting with the way you try to squeak out a response, "what was that?"

"p-please," you cry out hoarsely, his fingers finding that sweet spot again — but, only for the last time. just as fast as he was in you, he was pulling out.

"look at how wet you were for me," he groans, showing off your arousal that dripped from his fingers. he doesn't hesitate when he sticks them both between his lips, the most vulgar sound emanating from his throat, "you taste good as fuck."

warmth returns to your face at his remark, and it's only then that you realize your state. he was still covered head to toe in his stage outfit; metal chains and dark black alt pieces of clothing hung off his body, but you....you only had your top on. from the waist down, you were completely exposed.

mark seems to realize this too. "take this off for me?" he asks, fingering the strap of your top. "don't worry, i'll do the same." the grin you'd seen splashed across magazines and album covers lights up his face when you do as he asked. and true to his word, his shirt was on the ground in a matter of seconds - right next to yours. dark spills of ink swirl up and around his torso, nearly becoming a second shirt, but you see the muscles. the abs everyone goes crazy for, and with a tentative hand, you reach out to touch them.

"aw, don't be shy baby, i won't bite." he grabs your wrist and makes contact for you. another wave of arousal rushes down your spine when the hard lines of his stomach flex in response to your graze. "you like that, huh?" furiously nodding your head, he chuckles,

"alright, let me give you what you want," he says it like his cock wasn't nearly bursting from his pants, swiftly aching at the mere thought of sinking into you. his gaze darts from yours to the couch to the wall to the table shoved in the corner of the room. where did he want to fuck tonight... "come here," his hand tugs you away from the cinder block walls, over to the soft looking leather couch, "let me see you bend that pretty body over...." he purrs, a wide sweeping gesture to indicate that he knew exactly how he wanted you.

face down, ass up...wasn't that the saying?

and you don't mind, gleefully shimmying across the arm of the couch, cold leather nipping at your skin.

"fuck, man...look at you," you can't see him, but you bet his gaze is hungry again, soft, but visibly desperate, "you really are out of this world."

a chuckle passes your lips at the joke, and for a fleeting second you wonder if you weren't the first girl to hear the phrase. but the thought is swept clean from your mind once you hear his pants slipping on the ground, his metal pocket chains scraping the linoleum.

"stop taking your time and fuck me."

he cocks his head to the side...did he just hear that right? a harsh smack lands on your ass cheek, the throbbing, searing pain causing you to lurch forward and cry out. marks hand rubs over the spot immediately, trying to soothe the sting.

"now come on baby, i just need you to be patient with me." you mewl out an incoherent acknowledgment. "here," he grins, "is this what you want?"

a gasp is pulled from your chest at the feeling of him dragging the head of his cock between your folds. "mark please, fuck." slowly, he pushes into you. one hand guides himself, the other is lazily wrapped around your hip. but you can't even think of that right now, because he was filling you to the brim. you've never felt this type of stretch before. it was mind-numbingly delicious,"you're so big."

both of you share a shuddered breath of air when he pulls out and pushes back into you, "damn." he swats at your ass again, this time not bothering to rub his hand over the sting, "you just keep getting tighter...."

his eyes flutter close for a second, lost in the wet heat of you. he's never felt this before — the mutuality of getting off. every other time it's felt forced from the other end; the overdramatic moans were always a turn off but you... you take it like it's real. like it's truly the best cock you'd ever sat on.

mark loves that the most.

"feel good?" the question is drawn out, too focused on keeping his pace even and sharp so that you wouldn't go face first into the couch cushions. you babble out some sort of response that mark can't quiet understand, "words baby..use your words."

"so f-fucking good," you choke on a gasp, "oh god, please don't stop." each word feels like it's ripped from your throat as mark works behind you, thrusting so deep you're left on your tiptoes again.

mark lets out a dark chuckle, fingers digging into your side so he can keep leverage, "be careful what you pray for baby, the devil might hear." it's another musical reference, one that you catch immediately, but you're too cock drunk to form a coherent thought much less a sentence. he feels the way your pussy clenches at his words though, "you liked that, hm?"

you shake your head, arms stretching out in front of you to keep yourself from slipping further down the arm of the couch before a squeal is wrenched from your throat. "you're so deep!"

before he can tease you about going deeper, a loud buzzing sound goes off on the coffee table next to you. it's his phone, lit up with someones caller ID. your eyes are glazed over and blurry, too unfocused to see who the hell was interrupting this. but it didn't matter, because mark ignores it and keeps fucking into you — a little more enthusiastic than before. his fingers still dig into your waist, yet this time, they pull you back to meet his cock. essentially you were bouncing on him without having to do most of the work, "look at that ass bounce."

the buzzing finally stops, replaced with another harsh smack to your ass. you cry out in pain, quickly drowned out by a moan as mark swivels his hips so that he was hitting your sweet spot. white hot pleasure courses through your entire body, and you all but thrash against the leather. "almost there, fuck, keep going. gonna c-cum."

the words are like music to his ears. "just a little longer," mark typically had great stamina, but after the performance tonight, and the way your pussy was sucking him in right now, his willpower was melting away. he was edging himself within your walls at this very second. he needed release. "you're so fucking wet, i can't... oh fuck." his phone starts buzzing again, and this time he glances at the name flashing across the screen and groans, "be quiet okay baby? i need to take this."

furiously, mark jabs the green button on the screen of his phone, "what do you want." through gritted teeth, he keeps his pace, thrusting into your warm cunt. it's difficult, but you manage to stuff your fist in your mouth and bite down, stifling any sound that threatened to come out. hot electricity was still running through every nerve in your body, but as mark mindlessly slows to concentrate on not moaning into the phones receiver, it slowly dwindles.

"i'm..." he glances down at the way your waist curved in, the jiggle of your ass when his hips met yours, "i'm outside. why."

you can't hear who's on the other end of the line. maybe it was his manager, or another member of the band. the only thing you knew for certain was they wanted to know where the fuck he was at.

"don't you dare talk sideways to me." the warning in his voice nearly makes you moan out loud. this side of mark lee was something to marvel at. but you don't. you just push your hips backwards onto him.

a breath of air rushes past his lips, "shit." he mumbles.

"i wasn't-" he grits his teeth, "i wasn't cursing at you......because i dropped my cig on the ground, i don't know jaemin."

ah so it was na jaemin - drummer of parasocial. hot head. scandal starter. covered in more ink than you thought possible.

"okay..." mark sighs, his pace slowing, "okay, i'm coming....yeah whatever." he presses the end call button on the screen and tosses the phone on to the couch in front of you.

"baby..." he warns, now lazily fucking you, "i gotta go..."

"why?" you whine, hips pushing back against him in an attempt to get his pace started again. you so desperately wanted him to keep bullying his cock into you.

"they said the vans packed up... if i don't go now, they're gonna leave me behind." he pulls out and helps you flip over to face him, hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, "i'm sorry," he breathes.

"it's okay."

maybe you didn't get to orgasm, but mark lee between your thighs was enough of a treat. as long as he felt good, it didn't matter. so it doesn't irk you when he says, "i'm sorry this couldn't be more..i'm worn out from the show, and...." his voice trails off into a sheepish shrug, his wrist flicking towards his phone.

"i know." it wasn't your job to reassure him, but you knew what this was. what his life entailed, even if it was from an outsiders perspective.

mark sighs, settling back against the couch while he watches you hurriedly throw your clothes on. there's something different about you.

"i can walk you to your car if you want," he offered, his voice tinged with a mix of earnestness and hesitation. he knew he couldn't, not really. the risk of being seen outside the venue with a fan was far too great — jaemin learned that the hard way. but still, there was something about your presence, something that made him want to break the rules just a bit more.

you responded with a wry smile, "nah, i'm good. appreciate it though."

he returned the smile, though a hint of disappointment flickered across his features, swiftly masked by indifference. "alright then, take care."

as you turned to walk away, his gaze lingered, a mixture of longing and apprehension in his eyes. the echo of the performance still reverberated in the air, and the cacophony of the crowd faded into the background. the isolation that often accompanied the applause and adoration settled around him—a sense of detachment despite the proximity to his admirers; to you.

"hey, wait up!" his voice rings out, more desperate than he intends. you stop and turn back to him, a questioning look on your face. "here." he thrusts a piece of paper into your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a moment. in messy scrawl, a ten-digit number is scratched across the paper. he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the stage persona melting away to reveal the vulnerability underneath. "call me when you get where you're headed."

you take the paper, feeling surprise and curiosity bloom in your chest. "sure, i will." a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as you tuck the slip of paper into the pocket of your skirt, a secret kept close to your heart. "have a good night, rockstar."

his eyes meet yours, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. in that moment, no other words are needed to understand that this is a fleeting connection, a chapter in a story that will continue for him in different cities, with different faces. another show, another night, another girl.

another fake number.

A. NOTE: this can be read as a standalone, but it is also part of a bigger series i've yet to release. so if you like this one shot, please let me know! you can send in an ask, or comment, reblog, or like <3

TAGLIST: @peachjaem00 @mrkis @downtonbabyah @vangoes @cutiepeas @yujuvly @nuttie-nv-blog @seuomo @mrkleelvr @kazuhateez @chardonnayyyy @hyuckiegirlfriend @jwijii @meowniee @leep0ems @hibye02 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire

#nct dream smut #mark lee smut #nct mark lee x reader #mark lee x reader #nct mark lee smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream band au #nct dream fic #mark lee fic #nctpromptmemedone #nct dream mark

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average-hua-cheng-fan · 5 months

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another reason i think that xie lian felt an instant connection on the ox cart is because he and hua cheng both grew up in xianle.

there are maybe 4 people still alive that grew up in that culture. based on my own experience, you can pick up on things like accent, cadence, references, and humor that suggest a person is from the same place as you without consciously noticing it. that sense of comfort and similarity probably played into their instant chemistry.

#thinking about how they are bonded together by being the only people who remember their dead culture... augh it kind of makes me want to cr #as much fighting as fengqing do they are really the only people who will EVER understand each other's childhoods #which. aughhhh #there's a lovely modern au fic by heavensturtle called ''i'm just there to admire you.'' where they talk about chinese diaspora go read it #fics that mention paradise manor being in the xianle style also make me want to bawl. especially when fxmq notice it #other people that remember xianle: qi rong. jun wu. mei nianqing. yeah. none of those people are easy to talk to #buried deep in the xianle quartets heads are things like xianxia silly bands and xianxia nickelodeon and xianxia hi chew that LITERALLY #NOBODY ELSE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD REMEMBERS. DOES THAT NOT MAKE YOU FEEL INSANE #the immortality in tgcf and how it affects memory and sense of self and relationships. ourgh #i speak #tgcf meta #tgcf #tgcf spoilers #i guess?#tian guan ci fu #tgcf books #heaven official's blessing #hob #xie lian #hua cheng #hualian #feng xin #mu qing #fengqing #xianle trio #xianle quartet

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blurakun · 1 month

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🌲The Neverglade Trails🧊

More Below 🎉 Poppy meets John Dory??? Fic update as the adventure continues ✨️ EVERYONE forgets about Poppy's master manipulator skills? She knows just how to press Branchs every button and you KNOW that stuff would correlate directly onto the brothers, especially John >:3

I included a snipit from the fic of this scene >:3 enjoy!!

Not wanting to leave the pink troll to fend for herself in the approaching storm, John Dory hesitated on inviting her onboard. Poppy tore through the contents of her bag, taking out Branch's vest she had stashed in the knapsack.

She sharply inhaled as she held back tears, her ears folding back completely against her skull. She threw the garment aside, grabbing the thick leather book she had been carrying as well. She opened Branch's journal to the page she had turned to last: John Dory. Her eyes widened as she remembered the red ink that had scribbled out the page, scrawling “Do Not Contact” in Branch’s pristine handwriting.

“He was right.” Poppy croaked out, but it was loud enough for John Dory to catch on the wind. “You abandoned him. I don't know why I expected anything else…” Her ears stayed folded, her heart swelling with emotion. She couldn't let Branch down. She couldn't fail him. She let tears spill from her face as she started to sob, clutching the book and leafy vest in her hands as she folded over herself.

“I didn't abandon him.” John Dory sounded, alerting Poppy. She jolted, not having heard him approach. The wind had picked up quite a lot more, Poppy’s hair now beginning to blow into her face. “I went back to the Troll Tree. Everyone was gone.” John Dory pulled at his shirt collar, reliving his traumatic experience with this Troll he had met only minutes prior.

Poppy stared up at the older Troll, tears colliding with raindrops as they started to spill from the sky. John Dory’s hair and tail blew against the wind, giving him a more menacing presence than Poppy was ready for.

Lighting turned the sky white behind John Dory, reflecting off of Poppy's eyes as she didn't look away from the man above her. Her face stayed trained on a stare, unwavering from eye contact with the oldest of Branch’s brothers.

“That's what he said to Floyd.” Poppy’s voice strangely held no emotion. “That you abandoned him first.”

She could see that struck a nerve with John Dory, watching his brow furrow at the Pink Troll. Poppy pressed on the nerve. “And he’ll die still believing it.”

You can find her on AO 3 under "Finnylemon" OR "Alone Together (Floyd & Branch Trapped AU)"

#i hate this man #trollsalonetogether #trolls au #dreamworks trolls #trolls with tails #trolls band together #trolls fic #trolls poppy #trolls rhonda #trolls john dory

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ellecdc · 25 days

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Hey elle :)

requesting poly!marauders x reader (or any of them individually if you prefer) where they're at some sort of big event with cameras and press, and she feels a bit overwhelmed but sticking with the boys helps her relax? especially once they're inside the event and past all the craziness it's quite enjoyable

love ALL your writing! and feel free to ignore this if it isn't something you'd enjoy writing, all my love <3

hi sweets! thanks for your request - I opted to go wolfstar if that's alright? thanks for being here with me 🫶

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader modern band AU

CW: references to alcohol, weed, someone being 'good in bed'

You think it might have been the fifty-seventh time that your name was shouted that did you in. All of the noise turned into a steady hum and barely registered in your ears anymore.

You weren’t even quite sure why you were here. One minute you were playing in a garage band with your college friends in shitty pubs near campus, the next thing you know, you were on the red carpet at the fucking Vanity Fair Oscar’s After Party.

Though you biasedly agreed that your band was indeed quite good, you weren’t so sure that it earned you, Marlene, Sirius, James, and Remus VIP invitations to such an event. You were watching the likes of Margot Robbie, Issa Rae, Paris Hilton and other A-List celebs walk past you and Jesus Fucking Christ was that a Kardashian?

“Y/N! Over here!” Another voice infiltrated your senses, and you were reminded of the many flashing lights pointing at you.

You weren’t invited to the Oscar’s and you weren’t even an actor; surely this event didn’t require your attendance?

But you couldn’t deny that James, and particularly Marlene and Sirius were thriving in their roles as rockstars. Admittedly, it was Sirius that made this all worth it for you.

You and Remus were more understated than the rest of the group – both here for the love of music and for the love of your friends and very little else. James, being a child of two celebrities, was very accustomed to events such as these, and Marlene and Sirius were both the absolute definition of rockstars; intense, bold, fun and vivacious. You knew exactly why the crowds loved them.

You couldn’t blame them either; it was what drew you and Remus to Sirius as well.

He had the ability to make every person in the room feel like they had 100% of his attention and devotion; he was here for you. No doubt when it was his turn on this carpet, each photographer and journalist currently standing in front of you had felt very the same way.

Your relationship with your two bandmates wasn’t public knowledge, though it was absolutely public speculation that something was up with you three.

You’d like to blame it on Sirius; he was always the least likely to control his urges to ogle you or Remus or indulge in lingering touches whether everyone was watching or not. But you also knew it was in part Marlene and James’ fault – both of whom were very public with their relationships to the band manager Dorcas Meadows and a well-known photographer Lily Evans, respectively.

And finally, it was a little bit your own faults, refusing to speak on your relationship status when your fellow bandmates were far more open.

But you liked having these boys to yourself without having to share them with the public; there was the version of them that the public got and then there was the version of them that you got, and you didn’t want the line between those versions to blur.

The unfortunate consequence of that decision was having to do some of this on your own.

This, being shouted at to ‘look this way!’, ‘over here!’ or ‘turn around for us’, the last one making you very uncomfortable because you were quite sure none of the boys were asked to turn around for the camera’s.

The band had taken their group photos and horrifyingly, you were all asked to pose separately as well.

If you’d wanted to be photographed alone, perhaps you would have gone into this industry alone and not with the support of a group.

Stop complaining, you chided yourself, do you know how many people dream of a moment like this?

You were finally thanked for your time and effectively dismissed as – fucking hell – Ariana Grande stepped onto the carpet to take your place.

Your personal assistant - because you had things like personal assistant’s now – met you behind the curtains of the carpet to hand you a bottle of water.

“Okay, now they just want a quick shot of you all at the Glambot and then you’re free to enter the event.” She explained hastily as she took the water bottle back and put it in her purse.

“Great.” You muttered, trying to give yourself a little pep talk as you began to make your way to the line for the Glambot. Your dress felt too tight, your heels too high, and the various stage lighting too hot, but you found that your heart rate began to drop dramatically when you saw the likes of your two boyfriends and James and Marlene already in line.

Sirius and James cheered as they saw you approaching, causing the few people who weren’t already looking in their direction to turn.

You were sure your cheeks had the majority of your blood flow by now, and silently hoped that your makeup didn’t completely melt off from the heat radiating there.

“There you are gorgeous!” Sirius called over as Marlene wolf whistled at you.

“You guys are horrid, you know that?” You muttered as you stepped into line with them and James threw a protective arm over your shoulder.

Sirius laughed like a good sport, though you noticed that his eyes were far more sincere than his somewhat performative smile.

“I think we all ought to stick together, huh dollface? I’ve grown entirely too codependent on you lot to last more than five minutes out of your vicinity.” He commented, throwing a wink over at Remus who offered him a fond eyeroll in return.

But both of you heard it for what he was really trying to say in front of all the reporters; “I missed you, thank you both for doing this, I’m so happy to be here with you.”

“Yeah! What’s the fun of starting a band with your best friends when you have to do half of the fun stuff without them?!” Marlene agreed, gently nudging you with her elbow.

“My sentiments exactly.” You agreed.

By the time the group of you made it to the front of the Glambot line, Sirius and Marlene quickly stepped up to be the one’s talking to Cole Walliser and deciding on the group’s pose.

“Honestly, I know I was raised for this, but it’s like he was born for this.” James commented, leaning in to whisper to you and Remus.

“Never say that to him, his ego is already massive.” Remus responded, and though Sirius was in the middle of a sentence with Cole, his eyes darted over and he considered the three of you skeptically. He’d always said he had a sixth sense when it came to you and Remus, and it appeared he was right in that regard.

“I’m so sorry Cole, I think they’re talking smack. Oi! Are you guys taking the piss back there?” He said, throwing the three of you a cheeky smirk.

Marlene scoffed, adding “of course they are, Sirius.”

James quickly shook his head. “Nope! We were just talking about how good you look tonight, Pads, and how we can’t wait to take you back to the hotel and ravish you.”

Cole let out a hearty laugh and more camera’s flashed as the group of you chuckled.

“This is not helping with the rumours.” Remus muttered with a head shake, though his smile belittled any chagrin he may have been going for.

“Who said it was a rumour?” You joked, offering him a flirty wink.

The group of you had realized that playing into the rumours and joking about it was the best way to field questions and speculation. Somehow, it had grown to the point that there were theories that all five of you were in a polyamorous relationship.

“You guys are so funny.” Cole said, collecting himself from his laughter; you didn’t know if he truly meant that or if he was just doing his job as the lovely host, but you appreciated his encouragement, nonetheless.

The Glambot went well, you think. You hoped. You wouldn’t know until it was all over social media tomorrow so opted not to worry about it as the four of you migrated into the event space.

The event didn’t turn out half bad if you were honest. You got to eat and drink and chit-chat with some of the biggest celebrities of your time, you took an astronomical number of selfies, and danced the night away with your friends and boyfriends.

But if you were being super honest - the best part of the night was getting back to the hotel with Remus and Sirius.

Sirius was catching his breath like he’d run a marathon and you were sure his cheeks hurt from smiling so damn hard all night, but he was still riding his high as he fussed around the hotel room.

Remus looked just as delighted at Sirius’ obvious joy as you did but was nearly dead on his feet, exhaustion weighing down his movements as he all but melted into a wingback chair.

“Oi! What’re you doing, gorgeous? That’s my job.” Sirius chided as he swatted at your hands which were in the process of attempting (and failing) to undo the zipper of your dress.

You didn’t put up much of a fuss as he undid your dress and gently kissed your shoulders; massaging the skin and muscles along your back that the gown had been digging into.

You stepped out of the dress and caught the tshirt Remus had tossed to you before throwing it over your form and falling backwards haphazardly onto the bed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired.” You moaned, relishing in the luxurious sensation of the downy duvet enveloping you in a hug.

You heard both boys chuckle through their nose as you felt someone - Sirius - start fiddling with the buckles of your shoes where your feet hung over the edge of the bed.

Sirius pressed a kiss to your knee as he stood and disposed of your shoes near your suitcase before moving to Remus.

Remus groaned petulantly and went no bones when Sirius tried to help him up. “No.”

“Rem. Get up.” Sirius chuckled.

“Go away.”

“Moons, you cannot sleep in a chair, and you cannot sleep in a tuxedo.”

“Watch me.”

“Leave him there to die, Siri.” You commiserated from your own place of death.

“Yeah. Leave me here to die, Siri.” Remus repeated sardonically. “Take care of our sweet girl, yeah? Tell her I love her.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that and though Remus kept up the ruse of being ‘asleep’ - you felt your heart swell at the smile that adorned his lips at the sound of your laugh.

“You wanker.” Sirius chided lovingly through his own laughter as he pecked a kiss to your boyfriend’s head and started helping him strip from his place in the chair.

You must’ve drifted off momentarily, as by the time you opened your eyes next, Sirius had just convinced Remus to stand long enough to pull a pair of pajama bottoms up his legs as Remus rubbed at his eyes like a giant overtired toddler.

“How’d you end up falling in love with two eighty-something twenty-something-year-old’s, Sirius?” You asked sleepily from your place on the bed.

Remus chuckled as he sat back down in his chair by the sliding doors, opening it up to light a joint before bed.

“I have no clue, but I’m so glad they love me back.” Sirius said as he started to change out of his own formal attire.

You could tell that the night was starting to wear on him slightly, but there were still notes of excitement and adrenaline pumping through his veins as he went about his bedtime routine.

“You’re phenomenal at this; you know that, right?” You commented, causing Sirius to pause what he was doing to look over at you, expression softening into something hopeful.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agreed readily. “The best, really.”

He quickly finished up what he was doing and hurried over to the bed, laying down on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbow so he could look down at you.

“Thank you baby.” He said quietly, using one of his hands to rub absentmindedly on your thigh. “I couldn’t do it without you two.”

Remus scoffed as he made his way over to the bed, having locked up the sliding door and matching Sirius’ position from your otherside.

You both loved and hated when they did this; it felt as though they were ganging up on you, exposing all your feelings and flaws. But you also felt undeniably worshiped under their loving gazes.

“I think you’d do just fine without us there, love.” Remus spoke, gently squeezing Sirius’ hand before resting his hand on top of your sleep shirt over your ribs, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“Nope. Not a chance.” Sirius denied quickly.

“You were born for the stage, Sirius. For the flashing lights and cameras and talking.” You pressed.

“Only thing I was born to do was love the two of you.” He contended.

Remus breathed a laugh through his nose as you made a cooing sound.

“This just in,” Remus started, imitating a newscaster. “Renowned rockstar Sirius Black has gone soft.”

Sirius scoffed in faux contempt as he reached over to pinch Remus’ side.

“I am trying to thank you guys.” Sirius chided, his sarcastic smile turning soft as you and Remus relented and turned to face him. “I’m so grateful to have you guys by my side through all of this, I know it’s not really either of your things. And I know you’d both likely be just as happy if we called this all off tomorrow, but…”

He seemed to trail off as he looked over your forms towards the windows. “But….” You pressed, nudging him to continue.

“Don’t go shy on us now, Black.” Remus teased.

Sirius rolled his eyes but a smile broke out across his face. “But I’m so incredibly gone for both of you. I love you, I love this. All of it.”

“I love you too, Sirius.” You offered simply, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips and ignoring the stiffness in your joints.

Remus, never one to pass up on an opportunity to take the piss, rolled his eyes as he let his elbow fall to lay flat on his back beside you.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too, I guess. You’re just lucky you’re both so good in bed, otherwise I’d have split up the band ages ago.”You started to cackle, overwhelmed with exhaustion, love, and probably some of the alcohol still in your system as Sirius threw himself onto Remus demanding he “take it back or so help him, God.”

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kaleidos-copia · 1 month

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I just rewatched one of my favorite films, The Princess Bride, for the first time since becoming obsessed with Ghost, and now I can't stop thinking about Copia as Westley. All black outfit, gloves, mask, and even a little moustache... it's so Copia coded.

Not to mention Copia is witty and agile, just like Westley. He would scale the Cliffs of Insanity, duel strangers, and sprint great distances to rescue you, all because you're his true love.

The quote, "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while," is also very Copia, isn't it? And just imagine Buttercup and Westley's reunion as you and Copia...

Need I say more?

#we need a princess bride/ghost au !!#cardinal copia #Westley #the princess bride #the band ghost #the dread pirate roberts #papa emeritus iv #copia #ghost band #ghost band headcanons #ghost band alternate universe #ghost band fic #the princess bride au #Spyre's thoughts #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader

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not-rab · 25 days

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part five of Music and Memories, a Marauders band AU

———————————————————————

part four | part six

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strange-birb · 7 months

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Jason🫡 my bb

Jason Todd design for secret band AU. Honestly not too different from typical Jason design. I have him as the guitar player.

Most changes for all of them is on stage lol

His hair I love his hair and playing with the ways to style it!!

He unlike Tim and Steph is going to be in pretty much the same clothing per show(keeps it simple….kinda)

Anywayy I love Jason so much and I just picture him screaming and shredding. I’m placing him at a dimebag level for my own personal satisfaction and amusement……

Part 1. Part2.

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ladyveronikawrites · 2 months

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DOMINATE THE GAME

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

CW: 18+ MNDI, Coach/athlete au, coach athlete sexual relationship [all parties regardless of being fiction are of legal age of consent]

The National Women’s Soccer League Anti-Harassment Policy: This policy prohibits the use of coercion, force, intimidation, or Power Imbalance to pursue sexual contact or an intimate relationship of any sort.

The story includes: oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, mentions of contraceptives. If I missed anything please let me know💜

This is real person fiction; Fiction based on real people in fictitious situations.

A/N: Huge shout out to @nerdraging4point0 for helping me with this fic, holding my hand every step of the way as I venture into new waters. Coach Davis caused a bit of a frenzy in my server and well here we are. Also, check out her coach au, Underdog 🥎

word count: 2.5k

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It’s your third lap around the track and you see him talking with your coach on the sidelines. Coach Davis is back for his third week of observation. Whatever that means. He hasn’t said a single word to you or the other players. You barely remember his voice since he only whispers from the sidelines at your coach and has only addressed the team to introduce himself on the first day. Not even a “congratulations” when we won our last game last week.

Nothing.

You huff as you pass the pair slowing your pace just enough to roll your eyes at Coach Davis in his stupid sunglasses, boring varsity hoodie-from a rival college no less, and his fucking lame ass dad baseball cap.

“You’re going to regret that.” Suddenly the air expels from your lungs, leaving you wheezing and coughing. Easing your pace to a steady jog, you gather your breath as you close the distance between you and your best friend Kate.

“You ok? I saw you having a fit over there after you passed Coach Davis.” This time you fake a coughing fit to cover up the burning in your cheeks and the strange feeling in your stomach as his name rolls around in your brain like a terrible game of racquetball.

“Yeah, fine,” you say between forced coughs before ending your charade by clearing your throat and then spitting into the grass field beside you.

“Yeah, ok whatever you say,” your best friend rolls her eyes as you grin back at her. Just then, Coach Chris blows his whistle and you and Kate pick up the pace, joining the team at the benches. Folding your arms to match him, you narrow your eyes at the to-be-assistant coach.

“Coach Davis will be leading practice today as I have a club meeting right now. He will take good care of you, I have faith in him. Remember we have an away game Saturday morning, be at the field at 7 am for warm up before we commute.”

“Yes Coach,” we all respond in unison. Coach Chris nods at you knowingly, the captain of the team, before sauntering off the track.

“We are going to do things a little differently today,” his voice is low and soft as he scans over the team but you can feel his intense gaze land on yours through his tinted sunglasses. He speaks straight into your soul “You all have great potential, I want to see it. I want to feel it!”

Your heart jumps into your throat as you wait for what comes next. Coach Davis drags the whistle from around his neck to press against his plump lips. Instantly, your mouth goes dry, and something strange stirs in your belly as you stare just a moment longer. You don’t hear the tinging of the whistle, lost in thought about what his lips would feel like pressed against yours.

Transfixed, you don’t recognize the flurry of bodies surrounding you until you hear your name being screamed into your ear. “Hello!? Don’t make me repeat myself!” Coach Davis towers over you glaring, “Get out onto the field, now!” You bow your head slightly, balling your hands into fists as you swallow down the humiliation. Your stomach bubbles with rage and your shoulders tense. You've been playing soccer since you were 6 and this prick dares to tell you how to play.

“Yes, Coach,” you say through gritted teeth, jogging to Kate but she isn't in her usual spot. Fucking Bastard. He has us set up for the ‘Drill from Hell’ as we call it. We never do it with Coach Chris because it just doesn't work for our team.

“I see some concerned eyes and whispers. If you don't like the way I coach you can get the FUCK OFF MY FIELD!”

My Field. Your knuckles turn white as you grind your teeth. No one breathes. No one moves a muscle. The only sound is the high-pitched shrill of the whistle.

We run this drill three more times before Jessie faints, abruptly ending the practice. “She'll be fine. Sydney get her water and a protein bar.” Coach nonchalantly before stalking off the field.

What the fuck.

When you make your way to check on Jessie, she's alert and drinking water. “How are you?” You ask, looking between her and Sydney. Syd looks rattled and Jessie has some color back into her face.

“Yeah, I'll be ok. There was a party last night-”

“Alright, I get it,” you raise your hand cutting her off before giving Syd a sympathetic smile. When Jessie gets this way, Coach Chris just lets her sit out of practice. But this practice was far from normal. You follow Jess and Syd into the locker room to find it deserted. Figures Kate would bail.

Sighing, you open your locker to check your phone. You get a poor excuse from Kate as to why she abandoned you and as you sling your bag over your shoulder your phone chimes. Your jaw drops to the floor. It's Coach Davis, but in a tight white tank top and his short hair slicked back. He's covered in tattoos. Mother fuck.

<Kate: God, he's hot

I can't do this right now. You slam the locker shut and collapse against it. Groaning, you screw your eyes shut tight and pinch the bridge of your nose in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. You hope you never see Coach Davis again. Who died and made him God, like the fuck. Has he even coached a day in his life?

You push off the locker and say goodbye to Jessie and Syndey before heading out the door. Somehow you find yourself at Coach Chris' office just a few doors away from the locker room. Your hand hovers over the doorknob as your brain battles between running away and giving Coach Davis a mouthful, you are the captain of the team after all, and Coach Chris has supported you since day one.

“Coach I need to-” Your hasty demand dies instantly and your feet turn into cement when you spot Coach Davis doing push-ups in front of Coach Chris’ desk.

“99, 100!” Coach Davis grunts as he jumps up from the ground when he turns to face you, all of your pent-up tenacity and wit plummets to your stomach. “I knew you’d come,” Coach Davis smirks as he wipes himself off with a towel. His glistening muscles flex with every minute movement. How could something so simple be so arousing?

“I- uh,” your brain short circuits as you track his flexing back muscles when he turns to throw the used towel into the corner of the room. He leans back against the coach’s desk and crosses his legs at the ankles, folding his arms around his chest.

“Spit it out already,” he barks. You try to swallow down the words you know will get you in trouble, but the lump in your throat gets in the way. His annoyed gaze spikes your anxiety. It’s all too much- his deep voice and damp hair sticking to the side of his face….

Wait, is that a scar from a dermal piercing? Fuck me.

The words tumble from your parted lips before you can shove them away and bury the thoughts of a pierced and tatted Coach Davis.

“Fuck me-” Before the last syllable echoes through the silent room, your eyes go wide and your hands instantly cover your mouth as you begin to retreat. Your eyes go wide when your back hits the wall with a thud. Your shoulders tense and breathing shallows as you wait for your harsh discipline. His features stay neutral except for a small curl of his pouty lip. Did he just smile?

“I’msosorrycoach-” you stammer out an apology when he pushes himself from the desk. Your heartbeat skyrockets as he takes a step closer to you. “I should go.”

Your cheeks flame red as you turn to leave. Your hand is just about to make contact with the doorknob when you find yourself being harshly spun around. Slamming to a solid chest, all of the air expels from your lungs, leaving you stunned and breathless. He doesn’t give you time to adjust your stance before pushing you against the wall, leaning over to lock the door and close the blinds before caging you in his toned tattooed arms.

“Come on now, where’s the fight?” Your blood boils as a smug smirk spreads across his face. “You are the captain of the team? Aren’t you?” He sneers, flashing his canines right in your face.

I want to wipe that smug smile off of his face, your thoughts turn dark. You know he is your superior and you’d lose your scholarship in an instant if someone found out. But there’s something about this moment, it’s exhilarating and you think he wants it too.

Coach Davis leans in to inhale your scent before stepping back. You force your expression neutral as he casually cracks his neck before clearing his throat. “Let’s try this again,” he huffs. “You are the captain of the team? Aren’t you?” He all but screams in your face.

“Yes, Coach.” Your usual confidence springs back into your voice as you stare intensely back at him. If he wants to play, then game fucking on.

“Then lead!” His voice booms loud in your ears as he closes the distance. You suck in a breath as he leans down at nips at your earlobe.

“Lead. Me.” He bites out through clenched teeth.

Lead me. He wants me to do what?!

Then it hits you like a freight train; him- his pheromones mixed with a bite of bergamot that is softened by vanilla. When you take another breath to calm your mind, your system is bombarded by him. The ache between your thighs is answer enough.

“Don’t make me-”

“Kiss me!” Before you have a chance to take it back and ruminate on the consequences of your actions, large hands clasp around your face in a vice grip as full lips crash into yours. At first, your body tenses to his touch, but when he moans into your open mouth, you melt like putty in his hands. It’s all tongue and teeth as you both fight for air, fight for dominance- and this time you aren’t giving up so easily. You shove him in the chest breaking your heated kiss and you laugh at his shocked expression.

“Fiesty little on-”

“Pants off. Now,” you demand.

In an instant, his pants and boxers are pooling at his ankles, his hard cock springing to life. Goddamn, he’s covered in tattoos. Your pussy flutters around nothing as you bite down on your lip hard, tasting copper.

“I wanna hear you,” you say cooly as you sink onto your knees. You spit on your hands before wrapping them around the base of his shaft, jerking him a few times. Peering up at him through your thick lashes you add, “I wanna feel you come undone.”

Coach Davis groans as you take him in your mouth. You dig your nails into his thick thigh muscles earning a hiss and a curse as you take him deeper until you gag. Wrapping your hands around the rest of him, you hollow your cheeks sucking him harder. Bobbing your head up and down, he curses your name. You know he’s close so you double your efforts. Suddenly, pain shoots through your scalp as fingers grip your hair pulling you off him.

“As much…” Coach Davis pants. “I want you to keep going, I-” Coach Davis grips the back of your neck pulling you up to him. He latches his lips to yours, all-consuming. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you snake your hands under his shirt, using your fingernails to claw at his back.

“Fuck,” he groans against your lips. Coach Davis leans back to drag his hands over the desk knocking papers and folders to the ground before gripping you by the hips and hoisting you onto the edge of the desk. You squeal when your feet lift from the ground but it instantly melts into a moan when he spreads your legs apart and slides your panties to the slide before shoving a slender finger inside your slick walls.

“That all you got Coach?!… oh fuck!” he sinks another finger in without warning. He finger fucks you until your legs start to tremble and then he pulls out.

“I’m on the pill!” you blurt out as you watch him line up his red angry cock against your entrance. “I’m clean too, I just got tested last week.” You don’t know why you tell him this as your heart pounds in your chest. Maybe it’s to help calm your nerves or to urge him on. His eyes turn dark at your confession.

“Good. Girl.” He punctuates each word with a shove of his thick member.

The little support your propped-up elbows give out almost instantly as he drills into rough and relentless. You lay back and shut your eyes, giving into the sensations as the coil in your core winds up tighter. A loud groan rumbles from your throat and suddenly a hand clamps over your lips.

“Only quiet girls get to come, got it?” Your breathing becomes labored but you manage to move your head slightly in understanding.

Coach Davis grips your hips tighter, skin slapping, bringing you closer to the edge when he hits the spongy sweet spot. Instantly, your fingernails find purchase on his tattoos forearms.

“Oh my god, you’re close, aren’t you…God you feel so good… come on, let go and co-”

All of a sudden the doorknob giggles. “Fuck,” Coach Davis curses under his breath as he pulls out of you. “Under the desk, quick.” You dive under the desk just as his footsteps cross the room.

“Coach Cerulli,” there’s a rasp in Coach Davis’ voice when he answers the door.

“I was ju-” There’s a pause when Coach Chris clears his throat. “Never mind, I’ll…uh come back later.”

“What do yo-” is the last thing you hear before the door shuts, leaving you alone in Coach Chris’ office.

A few heartbeats pass and you muster the courage to leave. You stroll from Coach Chris's office, looking both ways down the hall to ensure you aren't caught. Walking down the hall with a stupid grin on your face you stop in your tracks when a pair of angry voices carries to your ears, echoing off the walls of the empty hall.

“I’m not stupid, Davis, your ruffled clothes, the papers on the floor… for fucks sake.” Coach Chris's voice is stern and loud. “You need to end this now before it gets out of control.” You hear the shuffling of feet and incoherent grumbles.

“What did you say?” Coach Davis asks.

Chris sighs, “There was this player on a softball team I coached..” his voice trembles a little bit. You cover your mouth turning on your heel quickly to head down the opposite hall.

Back at your off-campus apartment, you scroll through your texts to find that Kate will be out late despite an early game tomorrow. Relief floods your system as you plop down on your bed, knowing you won’t be faced with an unwanted interrogation. You are about to put your phone on dnd for the night when a text from an unknown number pops up. Your stomach tightens, he got the note you left in the mess of papers on the floor… but what if it’s not Coach Davis?

<Since I got you nice and warmed up, ready for practice?

Coach Davis?>

<Of course, my good girl

How can I be sure?>

<Would Coach Cerulli send you this?

Your mouth drops to the floor at the picture, the size of him. Arousal heats your core as the memory of him and your unfinished business.

Fuck it.

Yes, Coach, I’m ready for practice.>

#bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x female reader #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens au #sports au #coach au #ladyveronikawrites

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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Down in Flames ~ Masterlist

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Aemond x Reader

chapters: 10/10 COMPLETED

summary: Dracarys is the next big thing, and you have followed the band to the top. But tensions rise as the band grows into fame. Will you make it out in one piece, or are you destined to go down in flames?

rating: mature/explicit/18+

tropes: ex-boyfriends brother, enemies to lovers, he fell first

❤️‍🔥 listen along with the playlist ❤️‍🔥

Main Story

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Oneshots

The Christmas Party Prequel Daylight (Aegon's Happy Ending)

Headcanons

Aemond's Dream

Moodboard

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azrielbrainrot · 4 months

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Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something

Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.

Word Count: 3294

Warnings: none

Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!

part of the band au

You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.

She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.

This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.

The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.

You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.

“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.

Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.

“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.

“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”

“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.

You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.

Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.

“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.

You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.

The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.

As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.

They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.

You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.

You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.

Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.

“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.

“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.

“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.

“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”

“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.

“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.

“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.

“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.

As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.

You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.

You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.

Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.

You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.

“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.

“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.

“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.

“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”

“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.

“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.

“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.

“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”

“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.

“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.

“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”

“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”

“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.

You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”

“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”

“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.

“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.

“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”

“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.

You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.

“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”

“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”

“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.

You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.

You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #divider by saradika #band au

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