#it’s my boy band hours leave me alone

[rizsu]

the aftermath of being turned into an ex jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru.

gojo's a man of commitment. if rounding up a ‘band’ to serenade you into taking him back is what'll do the trick, then he'll organize it.

+ extra. this is meant to be unserious dont attack me for mischaracterization n shi 😞

“we're done.”

“we are not!”

in the end, he got kicked out. due to the shame he felt by being kicked out of a house he once lived in, satoru actually leaves. don't party too soon though, he's going to come back within five hours.

the plan he had in mind was simple: go to the department store, buy some roses, a poster, led lights, a table, some chocolates, and hire a band. for this the budget will be endless.

you thought you got rid of satoru but little did you know that he still has his share of keys. with that trick up his sleeve, he unlocks the gate, sneaking in everyone and the props.

satoru wasn't able to hire a band, but he was able to get a substitute. you see, todo, inumaki, and yuuji have hidden talents. they can all play instruments and one can sing! he always knew there was a reason why he's proud of his students.

quietly, the four men set the stage that's actually your front yard. in the center holds the white table with a black satin cloth delicately placed on it. the three bouquets of roses sit beautifully on the table. some petals were picked out and carefully spotted as well. on the table's center held the chocolate and wine — your favourite wine, to be exact. the finishing touch is the led lights. they're circling the ground, illuminating it with a soft yellow glow.

at the right and left sides of the table are inumaki and yuuji. inumaki's holding a wooden guitar while yuuji holds the hand drum. todo's position is in front of the table but a little off-center. he's holding the microphone, ready to pour his heart out on the song.

the star, satoru, is the one in the center. one hand hides behind his back. it's holding another rose bouquet with hundred-dollar bills wrapped with the roses. his free hand holds his phone. as soon as the clock strikes 7:00PM, he's going to call you. everything should play out perfectly.

anxiously watching his wristwatch switch from 6:59 to 7:00, he immediately calls you. one, two, three, six rings later you answered.

“you. i forgot to block you.”

“excuse me?” satoru scoffs, “whatever, i'm not calling for that.”

“chop chop then. i don't have all night.”

“can you come outside?”

“no. i will be calling the police.”

“OH C'MON,” he whines, getting desperate. “please? after this i'll leave you alone. promise.”

“...”

yuuji painfully watches. he feels incredibly sorry for his teacher. he doesn't deserve this!

“i don't think this is going good,” yuuji whispers to the boys, moving his head side-to-side.

todo raises his fist, gesturing to the boys to have some faith. “let's put our hopes high.”

they watch satoru closely. his hand that held the phone dramatically dropped to his side. slowly, he turns his head to face the boys behind him. his face breaks their hearts. he's pouting with eyes nearing tears — a pain only males like them can understand!

before satoru can say something, the front door clicks open. as it swings open aggressively, you made yourself tonight's main star unwillingly. you were not dressed for whatever this occasion is. your front yard has been ruined, your ex is there, three of his students you've met a few times, and while they're in suits, you're in a fancy robe with fluffy indoor slippers.

your eyebrows crease together, just when did they do all of this?! maybe it's time to install cameras.

“satoru, what the fuck did you do to my—”

“shh, tonight it's just you and him,” todo cuts you off, switching the mic on and beginning his performance. inumaki tunes the guitar and starts stringing random strings in hopes that they sound good. yuuji follows by tapping a simple “dun-da-da-dun-dun” beat on the drums.

your mouth's now opened. baffled by the sight, you stood there motionless.

“i have died every day waiting for you~”

as todo sings, satoru walks up to you, cheekily smiling at your shocked expression.

you back away from him, eyebrows still furrowed at whatever's going on.

“darling, don't be afraid~”

at this lyric, satoru takes the opportunity to shove his phone back into his pocket and grab your wrist. although you attempted to wriggle free, you are no match for his strength. gently, he pulls you into the yard.

both your eyes lock on each other. you search his eyes for emotions, he searches yours for any signs of longing. it's not there, he thinks. he feels a pinch in his heart, but it won't stop him. sending you a wink, he pulls you closer to the table.

“i have loved you for a thousand years (ooh)~”

“seriously, what's all this bullshit?!” you whisper-yelled at him, using your other hand to point at the table.

satoru simply shrugs.

“i'll love you for a thou-sand more (ooh, yeah)~”

todo ends his singing, clapping along with the other two to end the performance. it was the most touching thing he's ever done besides gifting yuuji and his idol a trio matching keychains set.

satoru coughs three times in attempts to hide his laugh. this has probably been the most unserious yet serious he's ever been, but his perfomance doesn't end there. he still has something else to whip out.

“baby—”

“that's not my name,” you cut him off.

“anyway. as i was saying,” he stops, revealing the rose bouquet with multiple hundred-dollar bills. “all of these are yours.”

your eyes bulge, but you quickly regain yourself.

“i'm not going to be won over with some roses and money.”

“there's wine and chocolates too,” yuuji says, immediately shutting up after you shot him a look.

inumaki stands awkwardly. he feels immense second-hand embarrassment. to counter such feelings, he starts playing the guitar again.

satoru cups the side of your face with his hand. his thumb caresses your cheek as he locks his eyes on yours again.

“i was serious about not breaking up, y'know,” he softly speaks, “i know i'm pushing it and all that stuff but i don't think i can leave you.”

it's once again your turn to be speechless. at this point, you're sure that there's no way all of this is happening in one night.

since you won't take hold of the bouquet, satoru places it in your hand. to solidify it even more, he lifts your other hand to place a kiss on it.

“what level of romance is this?” again, yuuji speaks. this time, it's satoru who gestures him to quiet down.

inumaki's still playing the out-of-tune guitar, enjoying the way the wind gently blows. it's truly a beautiful night. under the full moon's light, you and satoru glow together.

todo gears up for another round of singing. he immediately does a dragged-out “ooh~” adlib. this, however, wasn't going to last as long as his previous one did.

“NO — no more, please. you have a wonderful voice but i've heard enough. please.” you turned around to todo, begging him to mute the mic and possibly himself.

“and you,” you turn back to face satoru, “clean this up, get the boys home safely, and then come back.”

after that, you walked back to inside your house with the bouquet, making it satoru's turn to be left speechless. he still didn't win you over with some roses and money (wine and chocolates too) but his stupid commitment to keeping the relationship is what did.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jjk scenarios #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #gojo satoru scenario #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk oneshot #gojo oneshot

[luvyeni]

❛AFTER-PARTY❜ (h. jisung )

p. rockstar!jisung x fem!reader w. 1.5k

warnings? strangers to potential lovers , oral (m. receiving) , cumming on tits , unprotected sex , riding , handjob

— 𖦹 ( jisung had his eyes set on you ) !

jisungs eyes scanned the room , landing on you for like the 9th time , he'd been watching you ever since he spotted you in your crowd at his show , you had attended with your friend who was currently "dating" one of his members.

"hyunjin said that she is single , doesn't go out much." lee know sat next to her. "don't you like them like that?" han rolled his eyes. "why are you telling me this?" his eyes never leaving you. "because you've been staring at her for the past hour , just go talk to her." the older boy said. "before someone else does."

listening to his friend , he made his way over to you , you were sitting on the couch , drink in your , ready to go home. "hello." he said , you looked up from your drink , eyes widening. "oh hi." you waved. "han , right?" he loved the way you said his name. "that's my stage name , everyone else calls me jisung." you nodded. "well hi jisung."

he was cute , his long wavy hair framing his face nicely , you weren't that familiar with the band , only what your friend told you , but he was definitely working his way to being your favorite member. "can i sit down?" you nodded , moving over patting the seat next to you. "here." he sat down next to you , his leg pressed against yours. "thank you."

"so you know my name , what's yours?" he was cheeky , it made you smile. "(name)." you responded. "cute name , did you enjoy the show (name)?" you nodded. "yes i did you guys are super talented , i didn't know much about your group , but i'll make sure to look further into you guys."

"well i hope i'll be your favorite." he said. "i don't want to lose such a pretty fan to any of the other fan." your face heated up , but you still decided to play along. "i don't know seungmin is pretty cute too , his voice is amazing." he pouted. "im kidding." your laugh was like a new song stuck in his head. "we'll see." you said. "i'll take it."

the night went on , and you and jisung got closer , literally, the more you talk , the closer you got. you drank the rest of your drink , sitting the cup down. "ah , do you want me to get you another one?" you shook your head. "im almost certain my friend is going home with your band member , and i have to get in a cab alone , i'd rather not be drunk."

he didn't want you to go , he never took girls home , opting to be alone , taking care of himself — but he can't help it , you were beautiful , and you actually were interesting , you loved to stay home and watch movies , everything he liked.

and he couldn't even kid himself , your body was a dream , he prayed to meet a girl like you — your plus thighs , the tight miniskirt extenuating them , your boobs which he couldn't keep his eyes off since he saw you at the show were basically on display , being held by the shirt barely covered anything , your side boob protruding from the shirt — you were his dream girl.

"what if don't go home." he said. "what if you come with me?" you quirked your eyebrow up. "you trying to take me home jisung?" he smirked , the drink giving him a boost of confidence. "it's all up to you princess."

you didn't even bother telling your friend , she was safe with hyunjin , you and jisung making your exit. the cab ride to jisungs apartment was nothing but you sensational touching , and flirty comments in each others ear.

by time you make it to his elevator his arms are wrapping around your waist silently , you both get on the elevator and make it to his apartment , he opens the door , letting you walk in , and take a look. "you have a nice apartment." you took your heels off , sighing in delight when your feet hit the ground. "thank you." he closed the door , following behind you. "i don't normally bring girls home."

"why?" you questioned. "you're a handsome man , you mean to tell me girls aren't throwing themselves at you?" he laughed. "of course they are." it was your turn to laugh. "but i'd rather not stress about it knowing i'd probably never see again." you turned around , facing him confused. "but you invited me here?"

"yeah i did." he smirked. "you plan on seeing me again." he hummed. "depending on how this night goes , i plan on seeing you many times." his confidence was definitely a turn on for you , you chuckled , rubbing your neck where the string dug into your skin in pain. "stupid shirt."

he wrapped his arms around your waist. "does it hurt?" he toyed with the string. "s-so much." you breathed , his lips came up to your cheek right to your ear whispering , pulling at the string. "then take it off." he grabbed your jaw , pulling you into a passionate kiss.

your lips moved perfectly in sync , he took the grabber the other string , pulling at it , stepping back , letting your shirt fall to the floor , your boobs falling their natural state. "fu-fuck." he groaned , cock twitching in his jeans. "so fucking pretty."

you grabbed his hand , guiding him to his couch , pushing him down on the couch , spreading his legs , slotting your body into between them. "you look so pretty in between my legs like that." he caressed your face. "gonna suck my cock like a good girl?" you nodded , batting your eyelashes. "then take it out princess."

you got straight to work , undoing his jeans , pulling them down to his ankles , kissing his clothed cock. "sh-shit , no teasing baby , take it out." his demanding voice made you clench your thighs.

you pulled his cock out , his tip bright red. "you're so big." you kissed his tip , precum sticking to your lips. "yeah? but you can it , i know you can." you stroked his cock , bringing your lips to his mushroom head sucking on it. "oh fuck , there you go." he sighed. "suck my cock like a good girl."

you took him all the way in your , pulling out a long whine from his pouty lips. "your mouth feels so good." he grabbed the back of your head , guiding you up and down his shaft. "fu-fuck im gonna cum , wanna cum on your tits." he groaned. "fuck please let me cum on your tits."

you pulled off his cock , spit trailing behind as you took him back into your hand , stroking him. "wanna cover my tits in your cum." you looked so hot , lips swollen and red. "cum for me sungie." the way you called him that in that tone , sent him into overdrive , he groaned , cumming all over your tits , some getting on your chin , you gasp. "you came so much."

he had a lazy smirk on his face as he caught his breath , watching his cum drip from your chin to your tits , his cock hardening against , twitching against his stomach. "fuck get up here." he helped you off the floor , stripping you of your skirt and underwear. "want you to ride my cock."

he grabbed the base of his cock , letting you climb into his lap , his tip pressed against your hole. "wanna see your tits bounce while you're bouncing on my cock." you both moaned out as you sunk down on his cock. "fuck you're pussy is tight." you sat all the way down on him , he slapped your ass , grabbing the flesh. "come on , bounce on my cock."

he threw his head back against the couch , groaning as you moved up and down , his cock stretching you out. "god damn , you're so fucking good at this." he said. "fucking yourself on my cock like that."

"fu-fuck jisung." you moaned , your hands on his shoulders as you moved up and down. "you feel so good." he slapped your ass , making you jump forward. "faster bun , fuck yourself faster." you moved faster , moaning even louder. "sh-shit princess , gonna cum." he panted. "me too."

he reached in between your bodies rubbing your clit. "fuck jisung m'gonna cum!" you scream. "fuck im cumming!" you cursed , cumming around his cock. "sh-shit baby you gotta get off." he felt his orgasm approaching. "fuck." he sighed , as you climbed off his cock , sitting in his lap , stroking his cock until he came into your hand. "shit."

you brought your fingers to your mouth , licking the cum off. "fuck baby you're nasty." he grabbed your jaw , smashing his lips against yours.

you both sat there for a few minutes before getting up to shower together , spending another hour in there because jisung initiated round two , before you actually got clean.

"our tour ended yesterday , so i'll be home for a while." he spoke up , a anime playing on the tv. "huh?" you said. "i want to see you again." he said. "we don't have to go out or anything , we can have a home date or something." you nodded , kissing his cheek.

"sure , lets do it."

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #skz smut #han jisung headcanons #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung hard hours #han jisung scenarios

[matchaelette]

when exhausted jungkook is equal to a cranky jungkook but you’re just a simple girl

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, both ash and jungkook are working very hard and they’re exhausted to the point where it feels like they might drop dead soon. kook gets frustrated because ash won’t pay him enough attention but soon she ends up pampering his majesty’s ass anyways. also, there’s a backdrop on ash’s life; she is a musician and a part of iu’s band

genre: pure fluff.

warning: none. go crazy children

word count: 4.5k

notes: I know I know, like, a part of iu’s band? isn’t that a bit too much? nah it’s not. I have enough reality chasing me irl, let me have my fun here. also, I hope ya’ll are doing okay. a new year comes with a lot of expectations and responsibilities so don’t be too hard on yourselves <3 happy 2024 peeps :D

“what. do you want. jeon jungkook.”

“ooh she used the full name, have I been a bad boy?”, the words tumble down your boyfriend’s lips with a dramatic flare, followed by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, unfazed by the sheer force of your previous sentence, “what do you mean what do I want? attention and affection, of course.”

not that you’re counting, but what you assume to be the nineteenth sigh tonight, leaves your lips. your eyelids were so heavy that you doubted if even a fire in the building could wake you up. exhaustion tore at your limbs and you didn’t have the power to lift your eyelids to shoot a glare at your golden retriever boyfriend, let alone muster enough energy to face him and provide him... what did he say again? attention and affection.

you’ve been tirelessly working throughout the week, barely having time to eat or sleep. almost every day you’re coming back home at four in the morning, when jungkook is sound asleep, and leaving again in three hours, when he is yet to wake up. it’s the first time in quite a few days that you came home at a reasonable hour and were tangled in the bed with a very much awake jungkook. but as much as you want to entertain him, your body does not seem willing to cooperate.

you’re a musician, and boy when you pursued a music career, you never thought it could ever make you tired. music has been your love and your life since you could remember and a very fundamental part of your life. whether it was humming random strings of sounds while having your diaper changed as a baby (your parents’ word) or singing meaningless lyrics to any tune you heard when you started talking (again, your parents’ word), your love for music has always just grown. you’re now a full-blown musician, having the privilege to work with all the a-rated musicians of the world. you are pretty much a regular member of iu’s band— iu being the living legend of korea and the forever-long crush of jungkook’s life— but you still worked with other artists from time to time, sometimes as a producer, sometimes as a composer.

throughout your high school years, you developed a reputation as the person who would randomly start humming during examinations, writing lyrics on her exam papers, and always playing instruments or plainly singing in every single school function. and if that wasn’t a wake-up call, getting scouted as a musician through your personal instagram was certainly one. it happened right during the end of high school when you were preparing for uni, and the single event changed everything in your life. you were scouted by an agency called bighit, and they convinced you to audition, intriguing you enough to skip school one day and show up in a rusty building in the gangnam district of seoul with a guitar hanging on your shoulder. impressed by your skills, they signed you up as a trainee.

it was one of the best things that happened in your life.

ironically, it was also where you met your boyfriend for the first time.

saying your parents weren’t happy when you decided to completely backtrack from uni and focus solely on music would be an understatement. you were always an exceptional student— part of the reason your teachers would always overlook you humming in class or using your projects as a canvas for your musical colors— and were supposed to major in business studies as your parents’ wishes. while it was never something you hated— in fact, you always thought that you’d rather be a super successful businesswoman if you couldn’t be a musician— but having your first choice being handed to you on a silver platter, you'd be a fool not to take it. your parents were enraged, they cut you off from the family entirely, but you were nothing if not stubborn. determined to make it, alone if you have to, you've worked your ass off for all these years to get into the position you’re in now, a place where your name is gold-plated in the music industry.

but success was never truly your goal. your goal was to simply stay immersed in a world of music and you can’t help but take pride of how far all alone. but working like your life depended on it became sort of a habit, sometimes to the point where a singular musical note could make you groan. you don’t sing as much as you used to back in high school, instead, you use up all your time to compose music and play the guitars for iu.

said idol is supposed to be having a comeback very soon, somewhere your boyfriend’s bandmate was also going to star— kim taehyung— and so work has been extra draining lately, with everyone trying to master every single detail and point.

“kook, stoooop”, you whine, burying your face in the soft pillow, waterfalls of hair obscuring your vision as you make a feeble attempt to wriggle out of jungkook’s grasp. but he is relentless. he rolls his eyes and manhandles you back into his arms, causing you to let out a small yelp as your back presses against his chest.

jungkook, himself, was tired as hell. while you were coming back at four in the morning, he was coming back at three, working equally hard as you. jungkook is always driven by his passions and he never hesitates to work hard for it, but despite that fact, this week has been particularly challenging, especially with the pressure of working on his own solo album. the lack of food and sleep was almost getting to him, leaving him irritable to the point where he almost snapped at the choreographer. although he apologized quickly, he noticed that he was in the mood where people pick up fights for no reason. he decided to just come back home and get some rest before something else could provoke him, but when he discovered you were at home as well, he couldn’t help but get clingy. after all, you guys haven’t properly talked for weeks.

and he missed you.

“c’mon, I can’t even see your face”, jungkook props himself up on his elbow, his breath gently fanning your face.

“we’ve already established the fact i’m pretty. let me sleep, kook.”

“aren’t pretty faces meant to be looked at?”

jungkook furrows his brows when he gets no answer from you. he blinks furiously to keep his own exhaustion at bay and studies your face to see if you’ve already drifted off to sleep. your eyes are closed, and he can feel the steady rhythm of your heart inside the hoodie of his that you’re wearing. he can also sense you’re not asleep though. not yet anyway.

“babeee”, jungkook lets out a high-pitched whimper and immediately yelps when you elbow him in the ribs but he isn’t sure which one strikes a nerve, the elbow or the words that follow.

“dude, would you please let me sleep? I am tired as fuck and I have to wake up early”, you grit your teeth in clear annoyance, not even bothering to open your eyes, “unlike some people”

jungkook feels a twinge of guilt, but he can also feel a surge of a new emotion. anger? before he can fully comprehend what is going on, inconsiderate words escape his mouth.

“so am I. but you don't see me complaining all the time.”

your eyes fly open. before you can fully discern their meaning of jungkook’s words, he moves away from you, retreating completely to his side of the bed and putting as much space between your bodies as possible. you use your last fragments of remaining energy to prop yourself up into a half-seated position to face him, but jungkook has already turned his back on you.

“what is that supposed to mean?”

silence.

“jungkook, what the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“go to sleep, okay?”, his quiet voice makes you falter and you immediately understand that he is angry. though for what, you don’t quite understand.

“jungkook, i’m sleepy, okay? and—”

“then sleep! no one’s stopping you now.”

“but you’re mad at me for being tired! how is that fair? i’ve been working like crazy—”

“geez, sorry for being unfair, ash”, sarcasm drips from jungkook’s voice and you don’t like that in the slightest, “I also have to wake up early, earlier than you in fact, so please let me sleep.”

an uncomfortable silence follows his sentence.

“alright”, you sigh and drop it after staring at his back for a few seconds. you don’t want to get into an argument now, not when both of you are on the verge of collapsing, prone to say things you don’t mean at all. you’d rather sleep and deal with it in the morning when both of you are well rested and not running on two hours of sleep and a shit ton of caffeine.

it’s not always you get to see this side of jungkook. anyone who knows him knows that the boy is crafted from starry skies and honeyed galaxies alone, always smiling a bit too easily and lighting everyone around him as bright as the evening star.

however, every time you see a crack at his easy, carefree demeanor, you can’t help but feel a sense of helplessness within. jungkook doesn’t get irritated often and certainly not easily, but when he does, his behavior takes a different turn. he doesn’t shout or scream or take his anger out on inanimate objects as you tend to do. instead, he completely shuts himself out of the world. every curt answer feels like a form of silent treatment, every word spoken laces itself with sarcasm, always hitting where it hurts the most. even though he never takes his anger out on you, you don’t like seeing him like this.

if you knew he would react like this, you would have given a little more effort to remain awake in his company. jungkook may be childish but he rarely behaves like this. and you’re just a simple girl, hopelessly in love with the boy who has his back turned to you.

“goodnight”, you draw closer to him and drape an arm around his waist hesitantly. when he doesn’t stir or reply, a dejected sigh escapes your lips. nonetheless, you tenderly wrap the blanket around him and nestle your face at the nape of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh linen and mint.

despite the fatigue draping your limbs, despite jungkook starting to softly snore within minutes, it takes you an entire hour to fall asleep.

you let out yet another groan as memories from last night come flooding back into your mind. it has been like that all day, the memories coming and going as they pleased, striking you with a sense of disappointment every time they do. jungkook was already gone when you woke up in the morning and despite knowing he had an early schedule, you couldn't help but feel downhearted.

you immediately checked your phone back then, hoping to find a message from him but much to your disappointment, there was none. both you and jungkook had quite hectic schedules, but it became an unspoken agreement in the house to update each other about your days ever since you moved in together. jungkook would always leave little neon post-its on the fridge with messages— reminder to eat something before you get coffee!!! and call me after you wake up, let’s get lunch together??? — whenever he left the house before you were up and vice versa. soon, the post-its turned into text messages because it was always easier in the rush of the mornings. jungkook would always wake up to texts from you— before you get mad, I did kiss you before leaving but you wouldn’t budge— and he would instantly call you to check if your schedules aligned and if he could pick you up after work.

but having no text from jungkook this morning could mean only one thing.

he is still mad.

despite being agitated because of your lack of basic human activities, you pushed aside those emotions and called him immediately. you got more worried when jungkook didn’t pick the phone up because you knew he wasn’t one to hold petty grudges. you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed then, brushing and getting ready to face the day. now that you’ve had gained a few hours of rest, you realized how tired jungkook looked last night. you could almost hear the constant grumbles from his stomach that pointed out how hungry he was. But he kept saying that he didn’t have the energy to eat. you could see the swollen eyelids and the purple hue outlining it more clearly, how he walked unsteadily as if he was drunk.

jungkook called you back while you were on your way to work. you weren’t really surprised but it still dissipated some of your nerves. he explained that his phone was on silent and he didn’t see your call but his voice still sounded distant and his responses were short. he also mentioned that he might not come home tonight, hoping to squeeze in some extra practice hours.

he didn’t call you once for the rest of the day.

very un-jungkook of him.

and you were too busy to call him.

it is nearly midnight now. you find yourself inside your car, driving through the dimly lit streets of seoul. despite the hour, the city is bustling, alive with people and emotions. driving through the city always puts you at ease; you hated crowds but you loved observing people, the multitudes of emotions they go through every moment, making every one so much different than another but still intricately woven within love and life.

after the long day, you yearned for the warmth and comfort of your bed, considering skipping the shower part because that’s how drained you were. you didn’t eat anything all day, something that has become a routine now, save for the apple you grabbed while leaving the house in the morning. minus the seven-something cups of coffee.

yet you find yourself driving in the direction of the hybe studios.

you’re almost near the building when a sudden realization makes you click your tongue in annoyance. should have gotten some flowers. why did I not think of that before?

you park your car and make your way inside the extravagant building. the staff knew you well by now, both from your days as a trainee and your frequent visits to your boyfriend and his bandmates. you ascend to the top floor of the establishment, going straight toward one of the empty practice rooms jungkook loves to use whenever he is rehearsing on his own.

pushing the door open, you enter the room. the space is slightly dark, only illuminated with neon purple lights, ridiculously confirming your boyfriend’s presence to you. call it jungkook being jungkook, but your boyfriend hates harsh lights. you don’t doubt that he would happily reside in the darkness for the rest of his life if he was asked to.

you spot jungkook in the farthest corner of the room— hybe practice rooms are scarily huge— a blur of black sweats and bobbing hair, vigorously throwing hooks and uppercuts at the gray punching bag hanging in front of him. even from a distance you can see that he is completely absorbed in his own world, a side of him that you have come to know well over the years. this jungkook is full of energy and passion. this jungkook is the golden maknae of bts, putting his heart and soul into whatever he was working on, squeezing every last drop of capability, and surpassing every single one of his limits every minute. this is the boy who keeps on giving birth to beauty, elegance, and unparalleled talent.

you didn’t like to disrupt jungkook’s concentration when he was working so you decide to sit silently until he noticed your himself. however, concern washes over you when you see the lack of gloves in his hand. instead, his hands are wrapped with gauze and tape as he mercilessly throws jabs at the punching bag, and you can notice the blood seeping through the rips of the cloth around his knuckles.

“are you trying to piss me off on purpose?”, you hiss softly, walking towards him and putting your palm on his shoulder so as not to scare him. but jungkook yelps in shock anyways, bambi eyes wide and startled like a deer caught in front of headlights.

“ash?”

“why are you not wearing gloves?”, you take his hands into your own, flinching when you get a good look at it. his knuckles were visible through the torn cloth, red and angry, blood seeping through the gashes on his skin.

“sorry—”, jungkook throws you a sheepish glance, recovering from the initial shock, “—when did you come here? wait, why are you here?”

“to kick your ass”, you say, exasperated, “seriously jungkook, how hard is it to wear a glove? you just take the damn thing and squeeze your hand insi—”

“I did! but then it tore somehow”

you scowled.

“it’s true! look! I threw it on the ground when it ripped. it’s still there!”

“then don’t punch so hard!”

“but I have to train!”, jungkook pouted, hoping his cute facial expression would calm you down. you scowled more.

you huff, releasing his hands and making your way toward the line of closets in the back of the room. it’s where the first aid kits are usually kept. you know every practice room in the entire building has one or two of these because this is where most of the accidents happens. you can sense jungkook’s gaze following you but he remains mute.

getting what you need, you take a seat on the furnished floor and pat it, urging jungkook to do the same. he falls silent once again, any surprise from your unexpected arrival which urged him to talk normally wore off and the tension was back.

jungkook complies and sits down in front of you. he takes a good few seconds to stare at your outstretched palms before sighing in defeat and offering you his hands when he notices your enraged glare. He doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of your rage. and doesn’t matter he says, he would be lying if he said his hands didn’t throb from the pain.

you carefully remove the white gauges from his hands, wincing when more blood oozes out. looking at red cuts and bruises across his skin almost physically pains you, but jungkook stays completely silent, eyes drinking you in. he recalls being mad at you but he can’t quite recall the reason. it’s not because he can't remember now, especially with you here, tending to his wounds in such a delicate manner that you fear you would hurt him. as if something as gentle as your touch could ever cause him harm. not because you look like you were put on this earth to solely heal his hands. and not because you showed up here unannounced. because he genuinely can’t remember what made him so mad at you last night, literally out of thin air, and now he feels embarrassed at his own immaturity.

he just couldn’t figure out how to approach you after being a total jerk.

weird how humans tend to hurt the ones they love the most, almost always for no particular reason at all.

you finish your work wordlessly, putting band-aids around his knuckles and ointment on the cuts peppering his fingers. letting his hands fall onto his lap, you gather the bloodied materials from the floor and rise up to throw them in the waste paper box. jungkook follows your suit, standing up cluelessly.

“you’re gonna start throwing punches again?”

“hmm? uh no— I think I will practice the choreographies now”

“okay”, you sigh.

jungkook looks like hell, you realize. his messy hair is messier than usual, sticking out wildly at all angles, eyes droopy and rimmed with circles darker than you remember seeing last night. sweat glistened on his hunched figure tired from the physical exertion, soaking his sweatshirt.

you know you look just as worn out as him. you can feel it by the way he looks at you.

“uh so— are you gonna drive ho—”

“come with me.”

jungkook’s eyes widen as you wrap your arms around his torso, hiding your head on his chest. while a sweaty jungkook usually makes you giggle out a gross and maneuver far away, you hug him with gentle ardor, more so than usual.

you just want him to come home tonight.

“ash, sweetheart, i’m sweating”, jungkook tries to pry himself away from you but you just hold him tighter.

“don’t care. please come home.”

jungkook goes limp in your clutch for a few seconds before he’s softly hugging you back. of course, he would go home if you wanted him to, you didn’t need to ask him twice. who the heck is he to deny you? always a prisoner to your wishes, always prisoner to your love, and gladly so. how could he not? he rests his chin on your head and sways your body from side to side in a rhythm.

“okay”

“really?”

“really.”

the drive back home was short.

you drove, as jungkook was all out of it. he didn’t have the physical and mental coordination to walk down the building to the car, how the boy was gonna rehearse overnight, you had no idea.

“whoops, babe how were you gonna dance?” you supported his weight leaning down on you while you were walking, steading yourself before both of you fell on the ground, one arm wrapped around his torso, his figure hunched and head resting on your neck.

“I can walk. I am just choosing not to since you’re here”, he flashed you a grin with his eyes closed.

after arriving home, jungkook went straight to the shower and for a few seconds, you contemplated joining him. however, recalling how jungkook’s grumbling tummy throughout the whole ride, made you change your decision. he mentioned that he didn’t eat anything fulfilling all day. that is why you told him to freshen up and made a beeline towards the kitchen to make some instant ramen, not very healthy but quick and easy, and always gratifying.

so here you are now, serving ramen into two bowls with the leftover kimchi you guys had in the fridge. sleepiness makes your eyelids droop and you feel like prying them open with scotch tapes.

like tom, you snort to yourself, from tom and jerry.

man, you loved that cartoon during your childhood.

after all these years, you still don’t know if you’re team tom or team jerry.

hearing a faint clicking sound, you turn around and see jungkook approaching you, shirtless and clad in sweatpants. the shower had done marvels because he looks as attractive as he always does, with the water dripping down his damp hair onto the well-defined muscles in his chest. feeling a blush creep in, you quickly avert your eyes.

both of you are tired enough without resorting to er— any other activities for the night.

“what are you doing in the kitchen?” jungkook stares at you with confused doe eyes.

“putting food on the table like the dutiful girlfriend I am.”

“pretty sure that’s wife material”, jungkook whispers as he works his way into your arms, tugging your waist flushed with his.

“kook, you need to dry your hair properly! you’ll catch a cold”, you scold him softly, feeling greasy when you see him so fresh and glowy. you card a hand through his locks, feeling it to be more sopping than it seemed. you break free from his grasp to grab a towel from the washroom, ignoring the loud protests.

“sit”, you command, gesturing for jungkook to sit on one of the stools lining the kitchen island. when he complies, you gently massage his head with the towel, squeezing every last drop of remaining water from his hair. jungkook prefers to air dry his hair when he is at home, allowing it to get some rest from all the heat and styling he has to do on a regular basis, but he also religiously manages to forget at least soaking the water out.

he grabs you closer by pulling your waist. you stand between his thighs and continue massaging his scalp while he muffles his face on your chest, desperately seeking your warmth and comfort. a smile stretches across your face watching jungkook moan in satisfaction.

“how are the hands?”

“mmm good. need to put more band-aids”, his voice comes out hoarse being squished in your chest, “you didn’t need to cook. I know you are tired.”

“but i’m hungry too”

“oh. let’s eat then! it smells so fucking good!”

and jungkook’s sudden burst of enthusiasm prompts a hearty laugh from you, endeared to your core, just as you always find yourself enamored by his every action.

“what. do you want. jeon jungkook.”

jungkook’s soft laughter echoes inside the room in response to the aggression in your tone. he pulls you closer to himself, wrapping an arm tightly around your torso once your back is secured against his chest. after finishing your meal, jungkook volunteered to clean the dishes while we waited for you to take a shower. now that both of you are clean and full, you find yourselves tangled together in bed once again; your usual routine, you trying to sleep and jungkook trying to keep you awake.

“I want you to eat well. I want you to sleep well. you. I want you. always you”, he presses his face in your hair, taking in the aroma of wood and wild berries.

“and I am sorry”, he adds quietly.

you stir when you hear his words, turning around in his hold to face him. you know what he is apologizing for.

“well, you should be.”

“I really am.”

“i'm kidding, kook. you don’t need to be sorry. you were tired and—”

“but see, that’s the thing! every time I tell you that i’m tired and just want to sleep, you make damn sure I get some actual rest but I—”, he gestures at himself, looking at you with utmost concentration, “start acting like a spoiled child when I don’t get absolutely one hundred percent of your attention.”

“can't really disagree with that.”

“hey!”

“your words, not mine!”, you let out a squeal as jungkook tries to tickle you, holding him tighter in an attempt to make him stop, “love, that’s a part of you. and I adore that. that you feel comfortable enough to get mad at me for nothing. I don’t want you all smiley and cheery, without the bad things. I love you. and I want you as... you.”

“however annoying you may be”, you add as an afterthought.

jungkook scrunches his nose, “I am pretty annoying from time to time, aren’t I?”

“oh boy, you have no idea.”

“wow. am I imagining things or does everyone feel like you’re in a mood to constantly attack me tonight?”, he hugs you tighter if possible, shrugging, “my fault for loving you so much, I guess.”

“well, I am very lovable.”

“...oh boy, you have no idea.”

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bangtan boys #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts army #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts fanfction #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fluff

[zepskies]

Love Actually - Part 1

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.  

AN: Here’s my last entry for the TGWRC: Christmas in July event! It’s set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Theme: Christmas movies Prompt: “That’s a poor excuse for a tree.” 

Word Count: 3,100 Tags/Warnings: SB being himself, wee bit of angst, potential fluff overload! 

Part 1: "Humbug"

He was late. 

It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late. 

With a large bowl of popcorn in your lap, you sunk further into your favorite corner of the couch, drumming your nails on its arm. 

Your favorite Christmas movie played on the ridiculously large flatscreen Ben had insisted on when you two moved into this apartment. But you couldn’t get into the story like you normally would.

It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA. In fact, he was on an extended mission—hunting down a rogue supe in Idaho, of all places.

Freakin’ Idaho. Goddamn potatoes, you thought irrationally, shoving another handful of popcorn into your mouth.  

While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias. You’d even found a nice little tree that fit in the only free corner of the living room.

Well, you’d had to rearrange some furniture to make that happen, but in the end you’d succeeded. It felt like you were living at the bottom of a snow globe.

You hadn’t heard from Ben at all in over two weeks. The day he left you outside your office in the Surveillance department replayed often in your mind.

Two weeks ago…

“Don’t give me that face, baby doll.” 

Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.  

You knew he had to go. Butcher and the rest of the guys were waiting outside the S.A. office. And you were proud of him for what he was doing, genuinely trying to put in the work on this “hero” thing. But you didn’t have to like the timing. It was only two weeks until Christmas.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Just get this guy quick. I don’t want to hear my aunt’s shady-ass sniping. Every time I show up to a family gathering by myself, she starts plotting my arranged marriage to her fucking pediatrist, her divorce attorney—mind the irony there—or even the guy who packages meat at the grocery store—” 

“All right, Christ. I’ll be back in fucking time,” said Ben. He grabbed your arms to stop your verbal flapping. Then with a grin, his hands moved to the curve of your waist, down to get a healthy grip of your ass. 

“’Sides, I’m the only one flingin’ meat around here,” he said with a deepening smirk. 

You rolled your eyes, but a smile threatened to take over your frown as he pulled you flush against him, trapping your hands against his broad chest. You found purchase on the hard fabric of his uniform. 

“You’re so gross,” you said. But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment. 

And it seemed your boyfriend felt the same way; his arms wrapped around your frame like steel bands. Your fingers swept through his hair as your tongue slipped into his mouth, making his grip on you tighten with a pleased hum. 

“Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”

Ben broke away from you, just enough to frown in irritation over your head. 

“Calm your fucking tits, Churchill. I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready.”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his chest.

Now, it was quite literally hours away from Christmas Day. 

You would be seeing your family tomorrow, regardless. You and Ben were supposed to go to your mother’s house for dinner. But you were starting to think that he might not make it tonight, let alone tomorrow. 

And if you had to deal with your aunt nosing into your personal business again, your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.

Sighing, you continued munching on some popcorn while you focused on one of your favorite parts of Love Actually. Hugh Grant was shaking his ass to “Jump In” by the Pointer Sisters.

The music was infectious, and you found yourself doing a little shimmy yourself on the couch in time with one of your favorite rom-com Brits. 

With the TV volume as loud as it was, not even the door of your apartment unlocking could stop your mini-jam session. 

And the door soon opened, revealing a dusty, soot-covered Benjamin, still in his supe suit and tactical gear. He took a small step back when the gaudy Christmas décor assaulted his eyes, but he blinked through it as he turned his head. 

His lips curved at the familiar sight of you—bundled up in your pajamas and a fuzzy blanket on the couch, bopping to the beat of some shitty ‘80s song he actually recognized. You were alternatively mouthing the words and eating fistfuls of popcorn. 

Shaking his head, Ben stepped into the apartment and shut the door with some force. You finally perked up at the sound, your smile alight with happiness when you realized he was home. That alone made him soften a bit. 

“Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss.  

He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms. 

“Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.

Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.  

“You okay? How did it go?” you asked, wiping off some soot from his cheek. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ben offered you a cocky smile. “We smoked that pyro bitch.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You what?”

“Relax, the supe’s alive,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if it grated him to admit it. He wouldn’t tell you that the supe had two broken arms and probably a crack in his skull. “Being shipped off to prison as we speak.”

You nodded with a smile. “Good. I’m proud of you.” 

His lips pulled at a grin. But then you took his face between your hands with a hard slap (though it didn’t even sting, the point was made in your annoyed frown). 

“You’re late,” you said. Ben raised a brow. 

“Excuse me?” he said. 

“You heard me. You’re fucking late,” you repeated. “Go take a shower. I already started the first movie without you.” 

You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom. 

Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately. 

“Christ, I just got home. All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a more than suggestive smirk. He turned around and pulled you into his firm chest. His hands smoothed down your back and squeezed your hips, with his thumbs dragging under the hem of your pajama top.

While your lips threatened a smile, you had to wonder how he had enough energy for reunion sex, but not enough to watch a simple movie. 

Still, his offer was all-too tempting, making heat prickle along your skin wherever he touched. Nonetheless, you managed to remain stubborn and pushed gently against his chest.

“Down, boy,” you said. “If I let you get your hands on me now, I’ll never get through my list.”

First it was Love Actually, then Christmas Vacation, followed swiftly by Home Alone and its sequel, Lost In New York. 

Ben frowned at you. “So? Watch ‘em tomorrow.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You gestured to all your hard work in the form of the decorated apartment.

“Tomorrow, we have dinner at my mom’s house. So tonight, you’re gonna go shower," you said, pointing at him. "I’m going to make some more hot chocolate, and we’re watching all manner of cheesy, romantic, and downright silly Christmas movies until your Grinch-ass gets some holiday spirit.”

Ben released a tired sigh and dropped his hands away from you.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days," he said. "I’m not staying up all night again for some corny bullshit.”

You frowned in disappointment. 

“Ben, come on. Please?” you tried, but he just waved a dismissive hand and continued his way to the bedroom.

For a moment, you watched him go in disbelief. Was he really going to be like that? 

With a flash of hot annoyance, you huffed and decided that you weren’t going to let him ruin the night for you. 

So you went into the kitchen and whipped up some hot cocoa, breaking out the actual Godiva chocolate bars you bought just for this moment. You poured out one mug initially. But you listened to the old water pipes working, knowing that Ben must’ve been taking a shower. 

You knew he wasn’t just tired. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to tomorrow either, and  was going along with it for your sake. Which, to be fair, could just mean he still wasn’t totally comfortable around your family. (Your sister Luisa still hadn’t totally warmed up to him.)

You also had a feeling that he just wasn’t into Christmas.

The question was why… 

But you poured a mug for him anyway, adding some mini marshmallows into each one. You brought both mugs with you back to the living room and set them down on the coffee table. 

Getting comfortable on the couch again, complete with your blanket, mug, and the popcorn bowl, you pressed “play” and continued watching the movie…even though you felt just a bit lonelier. 

But then, a weight dropped on the other end of the couch. You flinched and looked over at your now clean and pajama-clad boyfriend, who eyed you begrudgingly with his arms crossed over a soft plain shirt. 

You smiled at him warmly. “Hey, baby.”

His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” Biting your lip, you set down the popcorn on the coffee table and handed him the spare cup of hot chocolate. 

“I made some for you,” you said. He gave you a brief nod and took a dutiful sip. But not even rich, chocolatey goodness could curb his sour mood as he stared blandly at the screen. 

You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face. 

When he stifled a yawn, you knew that he hadn’t been lying. He really was tired. Sometimes you forgot that while Ben was all but indestructible, even he had his limits. Chasing that rogue supe across the country must’ve taken it out of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

So you reached over and plucked the mug out of his hand. His brows knit together as he watched you set it down on the coffee table with yours. Then you grabbed his hand. 

“Come ‘ere,” you said, tugging him toward you. 

“What now?” he groused. 

“Just come on. Don’t bitch,” you teased. You guided him to lay across the couch, with his head pillowed in your lap. You grabbed an extra throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him, making sure that it covered him up to his chest. 

“What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek. 

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh through his nose. The movie continued to play, but you were no longer paying much attention. This was more important. 

When he opened his eyes again, they were drawn to the small, four-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, next to the TV. 

“That’s a poor fucking excuse for a tree,” he said. 

You frowned and followed his gaze. 

“I think it’s adorable,” you replied. And it was the only one you thought would fit in this cozy, but very narrow apartment. 

Ben’s arms crossed over his blanket.

“I’ll go tomorrow, find us a real fucking tree,” he said. 

Your frown deepened a little. “But I already decorated this one. All by myself, I might add.”

He eyed you then, a bit softer.

“All right, we’ll get a second one for the dining room,” he grumbled. “Getting the tree up is a man’s job anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at that. But you tried to see if there was anything deeper to read in his words. Not for the first time, you wondered how he’d spent his holidays in the past. No doubt with a lot of fanfare and celebrity parties during his hay day as Soldier Boy. You were more interested in his life before that.   

“I remember, my mom would run the show at Christmas,” Ben said.

You blinked down at him in surprise. Without knowing, he’d opened up on your exact curiosity. 

Or maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

“She’d have all the help in a damn tear around the house. Cooking, decorating, the whole nine yards. It was a perfect scene, like something out of a catalogue,” said Ben. “But getting the tree was always my dad’s job. His only job, really.”

You smiled and continued to listen with rapt attention. Your thumb continued to stroke along his neck. 

“One year, he got this massive one. Must’ve been…I don’t know, twenty feet. I don’t even know how he got it through the door, but he was mighty fucking proud of himself,” Ben said.

His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm. 

“Who decorated it?” you asked. Your voice drew his attention back. 

“Me and him,” Ben admitted, surprising you yet again. “Meanwhile, Mom baked up a storm for the Christmas party they threw every year…”

It was a rare moment where Ben recalled what seemed to be a nice memory of his father. But soon enough, the nostalgia dimmed from his eyes.

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his mouth, as if that could erase his moment of vulnerability. 

Then he turned to face the TV screen. 

“So what’s even happening here? Seems like there’s four goddamn movies playing at once.”

You cracked a smile and continued brushing your fingers through his hair. You also rewinded the movie so he could actually follow the story.

“Yeah, that’s what makes this movie so classic. See, there’s Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. They’re married, kids, the perfect life, right? But he’s actually cheating on her with a younger, sluttier woman.”

“…And this is a fucking Christmas movie?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Then there’s Liam Neeson.”

Ben perked up at that. “The Taken guy?” 

You nodded. “Yep! He’s a widower, but he has a stepson who’s got a sweet little crush. So he’s gonna try and help the kid impress the girl by helping him learn the drums.”

Your boyfriend nodded. 

“Musicians get plenty of pussy, that’s for damn sure,” he said. And with a knowing grin, “Actors get more though.”

You snorted and pointed to Hugh Grant next. “He’s my favorite. He’s playing the Prime Minister, who falls in love with his assistant, Natalie. That’s her right there.”

Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men. 

But he smirked when Natalie kept verbally fumbling in Hugh’s presence, then stared along with the Prime Minister at the woman’s ass when she walked away at the end of the scene.  

“Hmm, I’ll admit. She’s got a juicy peach,” Ben remarked. You laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. It worked an amused smile onto his face. 

He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face. 

He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist. 

So you proceeded to explain the various angles of the movie until he was all caught up. 

You two watched the rest of it together. Like always, you cried when Colin Firth poured his heart out to his housekeeper, Aurélia, half in his mangled Portuguese and half in English. You cried again when Emma’s character finally confronted her cheating bastard husband. 

And you held your breath when Hugh and Natalie kissed as the stage curtain fell down, revealing their relationship to the world. 

By the time the credits rolled, you were an emotional mess. You were happy though. Typically you’d watch this movie with your sister, but it was nice to share the holidays with someone… 

Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa. 

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was asleep. He had turned onto his stomach. His head still rested in your lap, his cheek pillowed by your thigh, and he had a hand curled around your leg. Your big, growling bear of a man had a gooey center that sometimes surprised even you. 

For one mischievous moment, you considered sticking a piece of popcorn up his nose. 

He looked so damn peaceful that you didn’t want to ruin it…yet now you couldn’t get up either. 

Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.

You queued up Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation next in your movie marathon and settled in. You laid a gentle hand on Ben’s back, between his broad shoulders. 

And his story about his parents returned to the forefront of your mind.

Maybe he didn’t hate Christmas. Maybe it was just difficult for him to remember the genuinely good ones. Maybe he missed his parents; both of them, despite how contentious it had been between him and his father. 

You could certainly understand that. But now, you would make sure he would remember this one for the “good” column.

You only startled a little when your cell phone chimed on the coffee table. The screen read 12:00 a.m. It was officially December 25th. 

You then felt Ben’s warm hand squeeze your leg. His eyes were still shut though, his breathing deep and even in sleep. 

With a smile, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

AN: Yay! I hope you liked this fluffy one for SB. 🎄❤️

Did you like Ben's little day trip down memory lane? Let me know in the comments! 😘

**Note: There will be two more parts to this due to popular request!

Keep Reading: PART 2

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#Love Actually #Part 1 #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy x you #tgwrcjulyevent #dw's witch events #Christmas in July! #TGWRC #break me down verse #Christmas fic #fluff #zepskies writes

[ohmtoff]

Shots, shots, shots (Part 1)

Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC

Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)

WC: 4.8k

Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, drinking games, making out

Disclaimer: no smut yet, smut is in the next part. not an american, idk anything ab frat culture and the american college system in general, so there’s gna be some inaccuracies. this is just based on the frat fics ive read and my own college experiences.

a/n: was supposed to be a one-shot but i suddenly wrote 10k words💀 although i know nothing ab frat culture, how my american friends describe it is basically like any faculty organization in an indonesian uni lmao so hope my knowledge of how those orgs work help this a slight bit. anyways hope you enjoyyy <333

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Nick is most definitely not having fun.

He frowns as he feels the bitter burn of his fifth (or was it sixth?) shot going down, tipping his head back to get it to go down easily, well and truly smashed at this point. Madi would be proud. Speaking of… he hasn’t seen his best friend since they arrived at the party, the girl pestering him for hours earlier in the day to come party with her. Madi is tired of listening about The Breakup, and to be honest, Nick is too, but he didn’t agree to come with Madi only to have his supposedly best friend ditch him at the door, leaving him alone at a frat party where he knows absolutely no one. Especially not just so she can run off and suck face with some junior.

Nick spies his best friend making out with a boy he doesn’t know, back to him through the haze of the crowd, barely visible in the shitty purple LED lighting, especially with everyone packed into the house like sardines, the place filled to over capacity so that no one can move without being pressed up against someone or another. Well, unless they are sticking to the wall like Nick currently is. And he’s about to go give his friend a piece of his goddamn mind when he hears the voice beside him, his irritation still visible on his face as he turns to look.

“Hey.” The boy is staring at him with an intensity that is disarming, dark eyes set in an intense unwavering gaze as he looks, just enough light to make out the half-smile on the other boy’s face, only one corner of his mouth upturned slightly. The boy’s hair is half in his face, looking damp and mussed like he’s just stepped out of the shower. And Nick trails his gaze downwards, appreciating the other boy’s outfit, a black t-shirt with some obscure band logo, sleeves cut-off hastily, clearly homemade, the edges ragged, showing off the nice curves of the boy’s shoulders, the definition of his upper arms from hitting the gym obvious. All thrown over a pair of oversized black jeans.

The other boy is looking at him like he wants him, and Nick is too far gone to stop the delicious pit of arousal churning in his stomach, the euphoria going straight to his head, making him dizzy with desire. He’s not the type Nick usually goes for, in fact, the boy is the exact opposite of his ex, but that doesn’t stop his body from screaming fuck me now. “I haven’t seen you around before. Transfer or something?”

The question makes Nick give out a little snort of laughter. “No, not at all. Just not my scene.”

“Oh?” The boy raises an eyebrow questioningly, his tone clearly teasing as he slides in closer to avoid another boy trying to make his way past the two of them squeezed into the corner. Nick inhales sharply as the boy moves in closer, trapping him, his back pressed up against the wall with no room to go back further, the other boy bringing his arms up to brace against the wall, forming a makeshift barrier around Nick, casually caging him in. As he does, the smell of beer hits his nose, a smell he normally despises, but it’s mixing with something the boy is wearing underneath, something sweet and woody, and the combination is fucking intoxicating. “And what would be your scene then?”

He ignores the question, not wanting to say that maybe his scene is in his room, pitifully stuffing himself with fast food and crying into Madi’s shoulder about his ex months after the breakup, choosing instead to shift the topic, mumbling.  “You smell like shitty ass beer.”

“Shit, sorry.” The boy relaxes his arms, his face softening into a sheepish apologetic look that Nick finds almost endearing, backing up a step so that he’s not so deep into Nick’s personal space, and Nick takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartrate. “Got doused with beer earlier when they were spraying it into the crowd.”

“Seems like a waste of alcohol if you ask me.” The unexpected response makes the other boy’s eyes go wide, a moment of silence before he bursts out into raucous laughter.

“Yeah, shit, it probably is.” Nick hates that his breath hitches automatically as the other boy runs his hand through his black hair, shaking his head in apparent exasperation, looking unfortunately all too attractive in the process. “Imagine how many people could be more drunk than they already are if they hadn’t wasted all that beer.” The boy shoots him a grin, which he finds himself returning, or at least he hopes he is.

“So how did you get here?”

“My best friend, Madi. She dragged me here.” Nick admits, a slight eye-roll accompanying the statement. “Otherwise there’s no way I would come to a party in a dump like this. Complete shithole. Floor is disgusting, and the whole place looks like it’s going to collapse in on itself if they throw another couple of parties.” He finds himself having to yell to be heard, the music playing far too loud, the bass turned up so that he can quite literally feel the floorboards vibrating underneath his feet.

To Nick’s surprise and appreciation, the other boy appears to take an interest in listening to him, craning in closer and cocking his head to the side to hear better. His ex was an asshole that wouldn’t bother to make sure he was comfortable at parties, even after knowing Nick didn’t love large crowds, preferring to hang out with small groups of people instead. Plus points.  “Oh, I know Madi, met her at a general ed class last semester. She’s also friends with one of the frat bros here, I think. Nate. Anyways, enough about your friend. I haven’t even gotten your name yet.”

“It’s Nick.”

“Nick.” The other boy repeats it, long and drawn out as he rolls the sound around in his mouth, and the thought of the other boy saying his name as encouragement flashes in his head, mentally kicking himself for even thinking about blowing this complete stranger already within ten minutes of meeting. It’s the alcohol talking, definitely the alcohol. He desperately tries to repeat it to himself and believe it as he watches the other boy bite his lower lip in thought. Fuck. Yeah, so maybe it isn’t the alcohol making him want this boy. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t been fucked since The Breakup. Which was 3 months ago. Nick scowls. Fuck Madi for telling him he needs to get laid, and double fuck Madi for being right.

“And yours?”

“Evan. My name’s Evan.” The name sounds familiar, but Nick can’t quite place it, putting aside the feeling for now, instead choosing to concentrate on his plan of perhaps getting laid tonight. Which shouldn’t be hard considering the way Evan is looking at him right now. Like he wants to ravish Nick. With maybe a touch of possessiveness. Nick doesn’t mind the possessiveness, as long as they don’t go overboard. Possessive makes for a good fuck.

He gives in.

I’m here already, might as well have a good time.

He turns on the flirtiest smile he has, his lips curling into a natural irresistible pout as he keeps talking, his hand coming up to brush Evan’s arm, his fingertips lightly grazing the other boy’s bicep. Very obvious, very forward. No one would ever accuse Nick of being subtle, especially when it comes to getting what or who he wants. “Well, Evan, since this does seem to be your scene and not mine, what would you say to being responsible for me having a fun time tonight?” The words have the desired effect, Nick tracing the tightening of the other boy’s jaw with his eyes, pleased at the barely veiled show of restraint.

Nick feels a shiver of anticipation run up his spine as Evan leans forwards, tilting his head downwards as he speaks, the other boy’s hot breath against his earlobe, pressed in so close that Nick can feel the ghost of a touch from Evan’s lips. He isn’t able to prevent the gasp from escaping when he feels the other boy’s tongue, teeth giving him a quick nip. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby. I am at your service. For anything you want.”

The words make Nick bristle, bringing both palms up to push at the other boy’s chest, startling Evan into stepping back off-balanced. “I don’t like being called baby.” He mutters. “Don’t do that.” His ex had called him baby, as an insult, somehow managing to insinuate every time that Nick was too demanding, too high maintenance, turning the word into a mocking reprimand each time. “My ex used to use that.” He pauses a beat. “Not in a good way.”

“Oh, shit.” Evan frowns, his eyebrows drawn together giving almost a menacing look, and Nick feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Evan losing interest. Maybe I came off too strong. “Your ex sounds like an asshole.” He lets out the breath he doesn’t even realize he was holding, a ripple of relief running through him. “And all I meant…” Nick’s breath catches as the other boy slides his hand underneath his chin, tilting it upwards as he speaks. “…is that you look pretty. Delicate. Like someone who deserves to get everything they want.”

Everything they want.

The words make Nick flush, the heat crawling up the base of his neck, stinging his cheeks. I want you. And his first instinct is to throw all caution to the wind and regret his decisions tomorrow morning after the alcohol has worn off, when there isn’t a buzz in his veins making him want to throw himself at this boy. And he desperately wants it to be just a physical thing, after all, he doesn’t really know this guy. He could turn out to be some weirdo psychopath for all he knows, but damn it if it doesn’t make him feel good that this boy thinks he deserves everything. But before he can open his mouth and resign himself to his fate, a hand appears on Evan’s shoulder, accompanied by the loud voice of another boy.

“Hey, bro.” The hand on Evan’s shoulder becomes an arm pulling the taller boy into a half-headlock of sorts. “Not like you to hide away in the corner for so long. Don’t you miss being the life of our party?” The boy turns slightly, catching a glimpse of him, and Nick becomes acutely aware that he’s probably gaping. “Oh, I see now.” The boy gives him a salacious and knowing wink, casting a sidelong glance at Evan. “You must be the reason our leader here is hiding instead of greeting the guests.”

Leader?

The new boy smiles at him, bringing his free hand up in a little wave of acknowledgment. “I’m Nate, by the way.” Nate squints, giving him a careful once-over, and Nick feels like squirming, getting the distinct feeling that he is being sized up though he doesn’t know for what. “You’re Nick, aren’t you?” Nate grins excitedly at the realization. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Madi.”

Nick furrows his brows thinking how does he know Madi and why Madi’s talking about him, getting more lost within the conversation by the second. “Madi said he’d be your type, and it looks like he was right. Fuck.” Nate lets out a string of profanity, “Fuck me, Evan. That means I owe her fifty bucks. So really, fuck you.” Nate narrows his eyes at Evan, who isn’t even trying to hide his mirth, chortling at his friend’s distressed expression. “Unless, you two dickwads set me up.”

Evan shakes his head. “No, man, I didn’t even know who he was until he gave me his name.”

“Fuck.” Nate lets out one last swear in a drawn out sigh, smiling fondly at Evan. “Well, I hate to interrupt the overwhelming sexual tension between you two, but I do think our new president should give a speech at our first party of the year.”

“President?” Nick echoes the word without meaning to, the sound of loud buzzing in his ears drowning out the sound of everything else around them, noting the shit-eating grin on Evan’s face that is getting wider by the minute.

“Yeah, president of Chi Alpha Omega. You know, the ones hosting this party right now.”

Nick can feel the color draining from his face, accompanied by some wooziness in his head. Madi had told him about the president of ΧΑΩ before, about how he “got around” quite frequently, always with someone new every other weekend. And apparently in no short supply of people who want to casually hook-up with him. In short, a player through and through. And Nick can’t tell whether he’s disappointed that Evan is probably not interested in any type of relationship or just excited that the boy is likely a really good fuck. Or both.

But none of that really even matters because he had literally called Evan’s house a shithole.

Fuck.

Evan winks at him before turning to Nate. “Yeah, I can definitely say a few words. And by the way, Nick here thinks we should probably stop spraying beer into the crowd to hype up the party.” He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the overly serious and solemn expression on Evan’s face as he says that. “Apparently we’ve been wasting alcohol when we could be using it to get everyone even more drunk.” Nick wants to sink into the floor at the other boy’s next words, hoping desperately that the ground can swallow him up.

“And he’s also made me aware of the fact that apparently, we live in a shithole.”

Nate’s eyes go wide. Nick wants to kill himself.

“Well, not exactly a lie.” Nate laughs, clearly bemused by his worried expression. “We’ve been trying to get administration to move us out of this shithole for ages. They just won’t do it. So we figure if we throw a few extra ragers this year, and this dumpster fire of a house finally breaks, maybe they’ll consider letting us have a different building for the frat house.”

“Wait, so…” Nick says the words slowly, his head slow to catch up, not quite believing what he’s hearing. “…you all actually want to break this house. Like that’s your actual plan, and I’m not stuck in some weird-ass twilight zone time warp imagining this.”

“Correct.” Evan nods.

“You all are fucking crazy.”

“Correct.”

“Sooo, about that speech Evan?” Nate asks, stealing another glance at Nick. “Any time soon? Or am I assuming that you’re gonna be busy for the next hour or so?”

The implication makes him half-cringe on the inside. Is it that obvious?

“Yeah, of course, now is fine.” And then Nick feels the other boy’s hand around his, Evan’s fingers settling to interlock with his naturally as if they belong there, warm and inviting. A little overly warm, probably the alcohol. But it feels nice, gives him the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest for the first time in a long time. “You’re coming with me, baby.” Nick wants to protest the nickname, but he isn’t given the opportunity to, finding himself being dragged along by the taller boy, weaving through the crowd of people deftly, trying to keep close to the other boy’s back, his free hand reaching out to grab the untucked edge of Evan’s t-shirt. The other boy heads to the kitchen, passing by the crowd that is busy dancing, flirting, and Nick reminds himself to yell at Madi tomorrow, spotting his best friend out of the corner of his eye still attached to the face of a guy.

The kitchen is slightly less crowded, the only people slipping in and out to grab more beer or shots, the entire kitchen counter covered with half empty alcohol—rum, vodka, gin, whiskey. God, how much booze do they have?  Evan doesn’t let go of his hand as he opens the fridge, rummaging around before finally coming up with another handle of vodka. The taller boy just shakes his head as Nate gives him a questioning look. And then Nick follows as he is dragged along again, making their way back to the living room, heading straight towards the epicenter of all the noise in the house. Evan finally lets go of his hand, and Nick feels a twinge of concern as he watches the other boy climb up onto the ping pong table, ignoring the cry of protests from the people playing beer pong. No way he’s sober enough for this.  Somehow Evan’s voice is louder than the music, his voice floating above the noise.

“Hey, we having fun tonight?” The cheers and hoots rise up from the crowd, Evan clearly reveling in the attention, waving his arms to tell everyone to pump up the noise, and they do. After a minute or so of cheering, the other boy puts his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, quieting the crowd.

“Here’s to the first party of many this year for Chi Alpha Omega. As the president for this year, hope to see all of you underclassmen at rush in the spring.” Evan grins, and Nick hates that the other boy is so charismatic, everyone in the room turning to hang on to his every word. “And to kick off a good night, how about yours truly start off a round of body shots?” The crowd hoots and hollers. “First up, my newest friend, Nick.” He feels himself outright blushing this time, Evan looking downwards to wink at him, some of the people in the front of the crowd turning to stare.

He startles as Evan jumps down from the ping pong table, landing unevenly, grabbing on to his shoulder for balance before scooting back on to the table to take a seat, his legs hanging off the edge. “How about it, baby?”

And he’s about to object, but his mind goes completely blank as Evan crosses his arms over his chest, gripping the hem of his t-shirt in order to pull it up over his head, the other boy’s arm muscles tightening. The skin above Evan’s jeans comes into view first, the white band of the other boy’s Calvin Klein boxers just peeking out from the top, a sharp contrast from the smooth tan of Evan’s skin on top and the black of his jeans on the bottom. Nick can see a glimpse of the other boy’s hip bones, sharp and defined, and his gaze trails further upward to his belly button, abs slightly visible as Evan moves, and all the way up to the other boy’s chest.

But it’s the tattoo that makes Nick stop breathing.

It’s intricate, clearly well done and by a tattoo artist that cares about how the finished product looks, a revolver with its barrel pointing downwards, the tip disappearing under the white of the other boy’s boxers. And Nick doesn’t think he’s ever had a specific thing for guns. But fuck. Because he wants to think that he’s better than this, better than having the only thought running through his head being it’s pointing to his cock. And the overwhelming urge to find out just exactly how true it is.

“You’re up, baby.” The words make Nick snap his glance upwards, tearing his gaze away from the ink on the other boy’s skin, the embarrassment flitting through him as he realizes how long he had been staring, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Evan, who is grinning at him, definitely amused. He’s already poured the shot, messily spilling at least two shot’s worth of vodka on the ping pong table, and Nick experiences a stroke of utter insanity, the words coming out before he can stop them.

“You should probably clean that up.”

“Hmm, maybe later.”

“It’s going to get sticky.”

“Maybe I like sticky.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that the whole scene is probably bizarre as fuck, talking about cleaning while the whole room is waiting for him to take a shot off a boy he doesn’t even know. But Nick feels as if he’s in a haze, entirely blocking out the rest of the room as Evan crooks a finger at him, motioning for him to get closer, the other boy’s legs parting on the table, stretching apart to give him room to fit in between, and Nick is uncomfortably aware of Evan’s jeans, the material stretching over the other’s boy’s thighs, even tighter now that Evan is sitting.

“Come.”

He comes.

The shiver of arousal runs through him as he gets closer, coming up to the edge of the table, Evan winking at him as he squeezes Nick’s sides slightly with his thighs, making the feeling curl deliciously in his groin. And the other boy lies down slowly, not breaking eye contact with Nick as he does, and god help him, because it only makes the outline of the other boy’s abs deepen. Fuck. The shot glass is placed right over Evan’s belly button, wobbling as the other boy breathes in and out, and Nick winces as Evan starts off a chant of encouragement.

“Drink, drink, drink.”

Fuck it, it’s just one shot.

He doesn’t try to overthink it, leaning down with his head to clumsily grasp the shot glass with his mouth, intending on throwing his head back and downing the vodka all at once. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything as he braces his palms against the other boy’s thighs, enjoying the feeling of muscle underneath his hands. But he’s not used to the motion, not able to use his hands, and he ends up spilling half of it, feeling Evan’s thighs tense around his waist as the cold liquid hits the other boy’s bare skin, some of the vodka settling into the crevices of Evan’s abs, already starting to slide off his body.

Nick doesn’t know why he does it.

But the next instant, his tongue is on Evan’s skin, feeling the other boy tense as he does it, licking the rest of the vodka off of the other boy, the feeling of burning still in the back of his throat from the half he does drink, dipping his tongue in to run along the grooves of Evan’s abs, the slight saltiness of the other boy’s sweat mixing with the taste of alcohol. And he’s pressing half-kisses, half sloppy licks against the other boy’s skin, the tips of his fingers reaching upwards from where they’re resting against Evan’s thighs to brush against the boy’s sharp hipbones, an inch or so above his jeans.

As he dips his tongue into his belly button, Evan bucks his hips upwards, the wanting movement making the arousal go straight to his cock. And he tells himself it’s because he’s trying to clean every last bit of vodka off of Evan’s body, but it isn’t the alcohol giving him a high as he runs the tip of his tongue slowly down the barrel of the gun tattoo that Evan has, the thought of going further and further down until he reaches the other boy’s cock making him hot and dizzy. The thought of Evan holding his head down and tugging on his hair as he gives the other boy a blowjob. Further, further. Evan squirms as he licks his way downwards over the exposed skin, and Nick wonders if it tickles, his nose already nudging the edge of the other boy’s boxers.

A bad fucking idea.

And he’s just about to pull away, the feeling of regret mixed with horror hitting him as he surfaces from his reckless decision, half-aware that they’re still in a very public room for the first time since Evan had told him Come, when he feels it. Evan half-hard against his palm, his hand accidentally brushing too close to the other boy’s inner thighs as he tries to move back, and before he can process that fact, everything around him moves.

Nick yelps as he feels Evan’s hands on the back of his thighs, dangerously close to his ass, and he’s suddenly being lifted up into the air, his legs coming up to wrap themselves around the other boy’s waist, his hands grabbing at Evan’s shoulders to balance himself. He vaguely hears the sound of catcalls coming from the crowd, his head falling forward, his face buried into the crook of the other boy’s neck, the smell of beer in Evan’s hair and that smell of wood and vanilla. A few quick strides, and Nick finds his back up against the wall for the second time tonight, Evan’s hips pressed into him, grinding him up against the wall as he plants kisses against Nick’s neck.

The other boy is definitely completely hard now, the feeling against his thigh each time Evan moves his hips making the arousal tighten in Nick’s groin. And it’s a fleeting thought, that he is grateful for wearing a white tank top, giving Evan free access, the other boy’s tongue darting out to run itself along the top of Nick’s collarbones, sucking likely-to-be-hickeys into his skin hungrily.

His fingers curl themselves into the other boy’s hair for purchase, needing something to grab onto as he writhes in Evan’s embrace, his eyes closed, his breath coming out ragged. An unbidden moan comes forth as he feels Evan sneak his hands underneath his tank top, the other boy’s fingers splayed against the skin at his waist, his thumbs digging into the spot just above his hipbones. Evan’s hands feel hot against his skin, burning into him more than he thought possible, and Nick’s eyes flutter open only to remember that everyone is still there, that they’re not alone.

“W-wait,” The words come out weakly in between little pants and far too soft for Evan to hear anyway, and Nick wonders if the idea of the other boy fucking him against the wall in front of a crowd of people should turn him on as much as it does. Fuck.

“Get a fucking room!”

The loud jeer seems to snap Evan out of it, the other boy stopping his attack against Nick’s neck long enough for him to catch his breath. Most of the room has gone back to whatever they were doing before, and it’s nearly impossible to pick out whoever had yelled it. “Don’t mind if I do.” Evan grins at him, not waiting for a proper response. “Hold on.” Nick just manages to get his arms around Evan’s shoulders before the other boy starts moving, hoisting him up slightly to get a better grip on the underside of his thighs, Evan’s chin nestled into his shoulder, the other boy’s breathing hot on his neck.

The sounds of the party slowly start to fade away as they ascend the stairs to the second floor, the stairway narrow and not lit, and Nick winces as he is jostled against the wall a few times on their way up, Evan’s steps not as steady he would have hoped. All he can hear now is the other boy’s breathing, slow and deep, the sound comforting, and Nick breathes in and out to match the other boy’s. I wonder if Madi was right, and I’m his type.  And he’s sure that he’s Evan’s type physically, the whole display downstairs has convinced him of that, but for the first (okay, maybe second or third) time tonight, he has the niggling suspicion that he might like it if he is Evan’s type for more, the way the other boy puts him at ease so naturally and effortlessly perhaps giving him more butterflies than he’d care to admit.

His mind unwillingly flashes him scenes on what it would be like dating Evan. Would he like his eggs scrambled or poached? What shows would they binge together? Would Evan show him off to his frat brothers?

Evan licks a stripe behind his ear where he’s most sensitive. Ah, fuck it. Who cares about dating? Nick knows he’s going to get fucked till he forgets his own name tonight.  

tags: @thenickgirl @mybelovednick @sukiipjs

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x oc #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo fanfiction

[oneforthemunny]

take it to the end of the line |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 11

prompt: a guilt trip, a lapse of judgement, a blow up. or you and eddie's first fight.

contains: age gap relationship. eddie is 42 and reader is 26. angst. make up will be in part 2 of this but angst for now :(

"Why would you do this?"

Eddie's eyes were hard, cold, stern, an unfamiliar look to you. Normally he looked at you with nothing short of adoration. Even when he was frustrated with you, his muddy eyes always held a flicker of light. Not now.

He was furious. You couldn't blame him. You would be mad too given the circumstances.

"Ed, please, I just-"

"You put my daughter in danger." Eddie's voice was cold and cutting, brows furrowing so deep, eyes sharp and boring right through you, slicing you down the middle and leaving you shivering and exposed.

"I didn't-"

"You did." Eddie hisses, jaw flexing. The vein on his neck stood prominent, protruding against his reddened neck and chest. There was no room for argument with his tone, it was final.

"Eddie, please, just-just..." Your lip wobbled. Taking a cleansing breath to keep that familiar burn from rising in your chest, you looked at him, pleading and pitiful. "I swear I didn't... I just wanted Brielle to-to like me." You admitted with a shuddering breath.

Eddie didn't falter, face staying ever stoic and hard. "Like you?" He asked, unbothered by your cringe at his tone. "You wanted Brielle to like you, so you deliberately went against something I said no to, and took her two hours away and put her in danger?"

Your stomach twisted and dropped in uncomfortable guilt. When he put it like that, it sounded so bad.

It wasn't that bad, really.

Well, maybe it was.

Brielle and Madeline had came to you three days ago, begging you to take them to a concert in Indianapolis. Some Indie band playing at a hole in the wall bar, and they needed an adult to take them. Eddie had said no, of course, a bar and a band and his underage daughter was not mixing. It was Eddie's weekend so Gina couldn't save Brielle either.

"Please, it would be cool of you." Brielle pleaded alongside your own little sister. "You know my dad will listen to you. He totally won't care that we went. He doesn't even have to know."

"Yeah, c'mon, you fuckin' owe us." Madeline added, giving you a less than impressed pointed look, one only a little sister could produce. "You're banging' Brie's dad. You put a strain on our friendship. This is us bonding, you have to help us."

You rolled your eyes because you knew she was just being dramatic, a little shit like she'd always been. Yet you worried that her statement held some truth, disguised under sarcastic, dramatic tones and eye rolls, you were with Eddie and it had shifted their relationship. You held some regret about that, some anxieties that appeared every time Brielle would cut her eyes at you.

You held so much anxiety about it, that you opted to take them. Declaring it a girl's day- a bonding night at your apartment to Eddie. You felt nauseous with guilt at how excited he had been, eyes lighting up and dimples deep in a grin when Brielle bobbed her head in excitement.

Then, Friday came around, and you were taking the girls to Indianapolis to some sketchy club you would never go to alone, watching as the bouncer at the door didn't even check IDs. It was noisy, smoky, and they served to everyone. You had drawn the line at them drinking, knowing Eddie and your own parents would have you six foot under if they found out. If. You clung to that if, praying things would go your way.

It never did.

Your cell phone buzzed, Eddie's name flashing across the screen, your face dropping slightly. You decided to decline, texting him something about 'it's a girls night! brie says no boys allowed lol!'.

You were smug in your cleverness over your boyfriend. He'd be none the wiser, then it rang again. You let it ring. Again. You let it go to voicemail, tummy twisting in knots.

From: Eddie

'I'm at your apartment now. Where r u?'

Your heart plummeted, hands shaking when you scrambled for the phone. You scanned the audience, finding the two girls easily near the front, dragging them out frantically.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dad's gonna kill me, oh my god." Brielle whined, looking down at her own phone to see a string of calls from her father and mother.

Your hands shook, unlocking the door to let the girls in, before standing outside the car to call Eddie.

He was angry, furious, fuming at you. Voice dripping in venom and anger through the line. He yelled at you. Eddie never yelled at you.

"Eddie, I-I was with them!" You tried, throwing your hands out in exasperation. You were scrambling for reason here, to sway him, a scrap of some understanding or a glimmer of his usual affection.

Eddie's brows shot up in challenge. "I wasn't going to let anything happen to them, ok? That's why I went with them!"

"That was fuckin' careless."

"No," You shot back. "If I was careless, I would've just made the lie, and let them go by themselves. Let them buy alcohol when we got there, or-"

Eddie's hand slammed down on the coffee table in front of the two of you, the wood shaking and smack echoing into the room. You jumped, wide eyed with a small gasp looking up at him.

Eddie stood, pinching the bridge of his nose, breathing in slow, letting it out in shaky, harsh puffs. "You need to leave." Eddie gritted.

Your heart plummeted. "W-What?"

"You need to leave." Eddie hissed, eyes flashing at you with so much anger it made your heart drop. "Leave. Now. I don't want to see you right fucking now. I'm gonna say some shit I regret."

Your lip wobbled, stammering around broken breaths and words. "Eddie, please, I-I really didn't-"

"Brielle is not your child, ok?" Eddie roared. "That was not your call to make whether it was ok or not. That is my child, and you are my girlfriend. I said no, and you fuckin' disrespected me. You hurt me. Me." He shoved a finger into his chest, eyes wild and electric when they scorched down at you.

You were frozen in spot, stammering and sputtering for words, chilled from his icy, mean tone. "I already went through this shit with Gina, and I'm not going through that again." Eddie snapped. "I thought you'd actually care about me-"

"-Don't say that." Your voice cracked, head shaking furiously. "I do care about you, Eddie. I'm sorry. I just, I wanted Brielle to-"

"I don't give a shit if you wanted Brielle to like you or not." Eddie growled. "You shouldn't be trying to get Brielle to like you at the expense of disrespecting me. Putting my baby in danger. I mean, fuck, what if Gina found out?" Eddie roared, throwing his hand out.

"Do you realize what she'd do to me? She'd take my ass to court and say I let my girlfriend take my underage daughter to a bar and-and she'd get Brielle taken away from me." Eddie's face crumbled, brows furrowing and lips pressing together to keep himself from wavering.

Your heart shattered, breaking and sinking deep into the pit of your tummy. You hadn't thought of that, truthfully.

"I-I'm so, so sorry." You shuddered out in a quiet whisper, tears streaming down you cheeks, dripping under your chin and down to your lap.

Eddie looked at you, eyes glassy and red rimmed of his own. He looked so upset, so hurt. You felt sick.

"You need to leave." Eddie said firmly, jaw locking and shoulders rolling to straighten his posture. "I can't... I need some time to cool off."

Some time. It was a haunting ring in your ears that left you dizzy, overwhelmed with fear and dread and guilt.

You nodded, swallowing to hold back your own tears. Shaky hands reached for your purse, walking to the door on numb legs. Eddie still held the door open for you, still walked you to the porch. The gesture made you sob, a strangled cry ripping from your throat.

"Eddie, I-I really am so sorry. Really." You sniffled, turning to him before you got into your car.

Eddie nodded, curtly but didn't speak. Didn't tell you to drive safe or that he loved you. Didn't tap on the window and point for you to roll it down, before leaning in to smooch you sloppy and sweet, your head pressed back into the head rest.

Not this time.

Eddie simply crossed his arms over his chest, not aggressive but protective, shielding himself from you. You crumbled, a shaky, pathetic sob breaking through you while you slammed the door.

You couldn't see, vision clouded with tears, but you couldn't sit there and watch Eddie look at you, so sad and hurt, knowing you were to blame. You and your stupid actions. You parked on the next street over, sobbing angrily, fists slamming and punching the wheel while you screamed, hurt and angry. Anguished cries and screams that ripped through your body, racking your frame with hard sobs until you were hiccuping.

You'd hurt Eddie.

He'd compared you to Gina... Gina. You felt physically ill at the revelation, shaking your head before starting on the main road. Your heart felt heavy, stomach a pit of knots and nerves. You knew you'd fucked up. You knew it was over, and the worse part is you had no one to blame but yourself. No, this time it wasn't him, wasn't another girl, wasn't communication issues, or Gina, or distance, or even the age. There was no excuses you could use this time, no face to save, because this was all on you.

This was all your fault.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #funsonmunson #older!dilf!eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader angst #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson

[saey707]

Hello ! Is it possible to request an heartsteel kayn x reader ?

Reader has own band they're the funder and leader off and they're comforting kayn after he got kicked out from his group ? (Ofc they're lovers your honor)

I just want to see your takes on this one tbh

✿ Prompt: Kayn gets kicked out of his old band ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: I'm not going to lie anon, I skipped over a bunch of requests the minute yours popped up tbh (⸝⸝ᴗ﹏ᴗ⸝⸝) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 I got super inspired by your prompt and had to do it immediately before I forgot some of my ideas! So I hope you enjoy!

Rarely were there things that bothered Kayn. He has always been well known for his "I don't give a damn attitude" and being the infamous rule breaker that always gets what he wants!

But lately, you can tell a recent predicament left him crushed.

Even though Kayn refuses to outwardly show his deeper and innermost feelings, you can tell how upset he has been about his band kicking him out.

The indefinite solos, stage dives, narcissistic talks about his superiority over the others, and toxic publicity Kayn gave them had grown to be too much... So much so that they had to make the hard decision to let him go.

"They just didn't have what it takes to be flawless like me!" "They just were going to hold me back!" "Can you believe they called me toxic? I swear, they just suck!" Despite all the excuses Kayn makes you know deep down he is hurting inside. How could he not be? They were together for so long and they just let him go!

Kayn's grief comes in waves, but he'll never let anyone see him cry. Instead, he'll lash out on Twitter, screaming and starting petty fights so he can stay the least bit relevant. And boy does his long-time fans eat it up!

"you'll never catch up to me but i'd love to see you try" "you cant handle me? that's ur problem" "U CANT EVEN TOUCH ME"

You might have to take his phone and laptop away for a couple of hours so he doesn't continue to make things worse for himself...

He is truly one to stress eat and then lay under the covers for extensive periods of time when you aren't at his side to comfort him, let alone show him some attention!

It comes to a point where the most you can do is just give him a long, comforting hug. Despite how busy you are managing your own band, you aren't going to neglect your boyfriend's feelings.

For the first time ever, Kayn will find himself sinking into your touch... To him, just one gentle hug alone made him feel like the tension and weight he was carrying were slipping from his shoulders.

It will be the first time you'll ever see Kayn cry. But maybe one good cry is all he'll need to pick himself back up and continue to push forward.

The last thing you can ever hope to make Kayn believe is someone else is going to leave him. That was the last thing he needed right now. No, you weren't going anywhere- you were going to always be by his side...

#saeybaewrites #request #short #headcanons #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #kayn #heartsteel x reader #kayn lol #heartsteel kayn x reader #kayn shieda #shieda kayn #kayn league of legends #kayn league of legends x reader #kayn lol x reader #x reader #kayn shieda x reader #shieda kayn x reader #lol x reader #league of legends x reader

[ughkat]

one shot idea: luke had a crush on fem!reader and she catches him masterbaiting and then she tops him 🫡

wordcount: 1866

fantasy -l.r.h

smut- kissing, masturbation, riding, handjob

not proofread

-

"Thanks for having me over. I like this a lot better than some big production." Ashton spoke to Luke with a cheery tone. His band mates had hosted a small gathering of friends for his birthday at Luke's house, and in being Ashton's best friend, they let me tag along.

I was great friends with the boys after Ashton introduced me to them, often times going out to eat or watch movies. However, I couldn't help but find myself uncontrollably becoming drawn to the frontman. Luke was one I was least close with, being he was fairly quiet—at least when I was around, and we never had a chance to bond. I found myself in delusional thought, thinking the intimidatingly handsome boy's stares and silence were a showing of attraction. I cringed at my own fantasies, certain that Luke had no eyes for me.

We sat lazily across a long black sofa in Luke's living space. I was fit snugly between him and Ashton, our closeness not to anyones concern.

"We should host all our parties at Luke's from now on." Michael joked at Luke, nudging Calum with his elbow. Luke let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

"Absolutely not." He took a sip from his beer, his thigh brushed against mine as he leaned forward to place his drink on the coffee table in front of us. Ashton looked down at my empty hands before offering me a drink.

"Want another drink?" He chirped, motioning to the kitchen.

"Please." I smiled. Ashton set off to gather our drinks, leaving Luke and I alone on one sofa together. I immediately noticed his energy tense, his thigh against mine instantly becoming still. I brushed it off, going to remove my hoodie to get more comfortable. I was left in a black tank top and gray sweat pants, the 5 of us all following the "just got out of bed" dress code for tonight's events.

I felt my shoulder briefly brush against Luke's arm as Ashton returned, Luke's head quickly turning to look at me at the contact. I glanced at him briefly, his eyes meeting mine, then down to my almost exposed chest, back to his drink in his hands. I looked down to his drink, which had been empty. I looked back up at him before speaking.

"Do you want another drink?" I asked, tilting my head. He flinched at my words as if i'd appeared from thin air, stuttering as he spoke.

"Huh- What?" He stumbled over his words as his eyes studied my face frantically. I furrowed my eyebrows at his new behavior, repeating myself slowly.

"Your drink? It's empty... Do you want another one?". Luke's eyes darted down to his drink, his cup being slightly crushed by his tight grip.

"Oh." He stuttered, "No, yeah. No, I'm okay for now." He muttered. I nodded suspiciously, turning back to my drink and noting Luke's odd behavior.

I had almost forgotten about Luke's suspicious energy as the night got later, the five of us staying up debating about shows, sharing scandalous stories and more. Luke's unnerving behavior only worsened as the hours passed.

I was too face deep in Ashton's laptop, along with the other boys, to notice Luke's disappearance. I glanced away from the one of one hundred's of random videos we had been binging to check for a bathroom, and noticed Luke was no where to be seen. Brushing it off, I asked Ashton to lead me to my destination.

"Hey. Where's the bathroom?" I poked Ashton's shoulder to get his attention. His eyes were glued to the screen, using his hands to speak.

"Upstairs, on the left." He muttered. I rolled my eyes, brushing off Ashton's screen slavery and heading up the stairs. The giggles and shouts of the boys began to muffle as I reached Luke's top floor, leaving me stumped.

Upstairs and on the left, there were three doors, all shut, and the same color. I scoffed at how comical my predicament was. I reassured myself that Luke lived alone, and the chances of walking in on something I shouldn't would be low. Choosing the farthest door to the right, I put my ear to the door briefly before turning the knob slowly and entering.

My eyes widened slightly as I froze. I opened the door slowly and silently to reveal Luke sitting facing away from the door, fully clothed and a blurred fist pumping his half exposed lower half. My heart picked up its pace as I watched, I felt as though I was intruding, but I couldn't look away. He pumped his fist quickly and vigorously, his head tossed back in pleasure. I felt my stomach flutter at the sight of Luke making a mess of himself in front of me.

Feeling morally obligated, I intentionally cleared my throat to catch his attention to my presence. Luke umped from his seat, shouting a shocked curse as I entered the room.

"Y/n, fuck. What are you-" He stuttered from the bed frantically, struggling to hide his still throbbing member. I entered the room cautiously, closing the door behind me. I let my impulse and lust for the blond take the wheel.

"Why'd you stop?" I spoke softly, interrupting him. I watched as he slowly calmed down, his breath catching itself. I made my way slowly to the bed, watching Luke's hands try to hide his erection and failing.

"What are you..." He stuttered quietly as he watched me move closer, his nerves taking over.

"Do you want me to leave?" I cooed, taking a seat behind him, speaking softly close to is ear. I watched the hair on his neck stand at my breath against his skin. He shook his head slightly, his breathing shaking.

I felt the pool in my panties grow as I watched the boy in front of me melt as my presence, wishing I had acted on things sooner. I slowly brought my hands to his shoulders, caressing him over his shirt gently. His eyes fluttered as he exhaled a breath, swallowing a lump in his throat. He moved his hands to his sides behind him, supporting himself on his arms.

"Take this off." I spoke softly, tugging the the hem of his shirt. Luke swiftly threw his shirt off, inviting my wandering hands to his skin. I quickly connected my lips to Luke's skin, planting soft kissing down his neck. His breath hitched and he rolled his head back lazily as my lips played on his skin. I trailed my soft hands over his shoulders, adjusting my seat to sit on my knees and resting my chest against his back. Luke sighed deeply as I trailed my hands over his chest, slightly digging my nails in as I ran long strokes in his skin.

"Did I do this, love?" I pouted sarcastically, moving my hand down and palming Luke's attempt to poorly cover his shaft. Luke gasped slightly, bucking his hips into my hand. I giggled softly, my hand continued taunting Luke's solid bulge as he left of a small whine at my teasing.

"Please, Y/n.". He whimpered in between breaths. I smirked at his pleading, pulling his shaft from his boxers. I reached my hand around to my mouth then back to Luke's member, beginning to stroke slowly.

"Like that?" I cooed, tilting my head. Luke rolled his head back onto my shoulder, light pants leaving his lips.

"Fuck." He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips slowly back into my fist. I squirmed in my seat at the feeling of Luke melting in my hand, desperate to take him over completely. I sped up my hands pace, Luke matching his hips to my fist. His eyes fluttered closed slowly as his head laid lazily on my shoulder, his fists gripping the sheets beside us tightly.

"You been fantasizing about my hands?" I spoke softly, teasing him gently as my hand continued its work. Luke let out a groan at me words, bucking his hips into my fist.

I kept up my hands pace, moving my other hand to pull down my seats. I moved around to face Luke, keeping my hand moving on his slick member. Luke looked at me sluggishly, his mouth open slightly at the overwhelming event. I straddled him swiftly, pulling my tank top off swiftly and my underwear to the side. Luke groaned softly as i sat my folds against his cock, teasing him as I glided my hips back and forth, running my slit along his shaft.

"Fuck, Y/n." Luke cursed under his breath, moving to hands to my hips. I focused my hips at his tip, giggling at his eagerness.

"Is this what you wanted?" I teased, lining him up with my entrance. I sat down onto his member slowly, gasping at his size. I gripped his shoulders tightly as I sat still for a moment to adjust to him. I slowly began to pick up my pace. Luke's mouth dropped to an "O" as he trailed a hand up to my breast, gripping tightly as I began to find a vigorous rhythm riding his shaft.

"You feel so fuckin' good." Luke growled, gripping my hip tightly with a hand. I placed to hands on Luke's chest, pushing him to land on his back. He smirked slightly at my minor aggression. I kept my hands on his chest as I bounced hastily, my bare cheeks on his thighs clapping loudly.

My eyes met Luke's deeply, his face was filled with euphoria, sweat beading at his forehead. His arms laid lazily at the sides on his head.

I tossed my head back, concealing a whine as my pace quickened.

"You look so pretty riding my cock." Luke spoke smugly, bringing a hand down to grip my hip. I quickly brought a hand to Luke's wrists, pinning them aggressively to the sides of his head. I leaned down to his face as I spoke.

"I know." I smirked. Luke licked his lips before leaning his head up, connecting our lips for a sloppy kiss. Our mouths danced lazily as Luke's hips fucked back into mine, bringing him close to his end.

I felt Luke twitch inside me, indicating his finish. I smirked against his lips, determined to make him cum. I ground my hips deeper, Luke gripping the sheets above him.

"Fuck, Y/n. I'm gonna cum." He stuttered between breaths, his eyes fluttering shut slowly. I leaned in close to Luke's face, finding the pace that seemed to bring Luke close.

"Cum for me, Lu." I spoke softly in Luke's ear. I quickly sat up, Luke's pulsating member slipping from my entrance, shooting his load on my bare rear.

I sat lazily back onto Luke's lap, collapsing onto his chest. I listened to his heartbeat as we caught our breath, both of us seemingly remembering the 3 boys left uninformed downstairs.

"They definitely know what just happened." Luke broke the silence. I glanced up to him, he looked down to meet my eyes with a cheeky smile. A giggle escaped me, unsure of how to go about the walk of shame downstairs plus explanation to the boys. I buried my face in my hands in shame.

"Did you cum?" Luke asked unexpectedly. I looked back up to him. Though I hadn't, I didn't really mind.

"...No." I shook my head. Luke tilted his head slightly.

"Do you want to?"

#5sos #5sos fanfic #calum 5sos #luke 5sos #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos #5sos fanfiction #luke hemmings #luke hemmings 5sos #luke hemmings au #luke hemming imagines #5sos luke #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings blurb #luke x reader #luke smut #ashton 5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer smut #5sos smut #5sos au #5 second of summer imagines

[louisupdates]

By Marcelo Fernández Bitar [translated from Spanish]

In just over 24 hours, Louis Tomlinson passed through Buenos Aires and caused a commotion, with hundreds of fans crowding at the door of his hotel singing and shouting his name, and also occupying almost the entire block where there is a FM radio station where he went to give an interview.

The fanaticism generated with his solo career by the former singer of One Direction in Argentina is so great that in fact he will give a recital in the same stadium where he was in 2014 with the mega-boy band. It will be on May 18 in Vélez Sarsfield.

Louis Tomlinson already has two solo albums and is touring the world presenting the most recent, Faith in the Future. It came out in November 2022 and surprised with his most rocky sound, close to the Brit-pop of his beloved Oasis, and less pop. It was number one in England and three singles came out, Bigger Than Me, Out of My System and Silver Tongues.

Hurricane Louis

The visit was really fleeting with the purpose of promoting his show next month, the old-fashioned way, when the artists toured the countries to advertise albums or tours, something they currently do on Zoom or with posts on their official accounts.

Louis arrived on Friday night and spent Saturday fulfilling an intense schedule of activities, to leave early the next day.

First he went to the Vélez football field for a television interview which will be televised later by TN, and then he went to the radio station Los 40 Principales, where his fans filled the entire Gorriti street, between Ravignani and Arévalo, to witness an interview where eight listeners joined to ask him a question each.

He finally arrived at 4 p.m. at the Four Seasons hotel, where hundreds of other fans were screaming for him. There he gave a series of reports and chatted with Clarín in a room equipped as a small television set, with lights and a set with his name and the cover of the disc.

"Never, not for a second, did I think I would be going through some of the same experiences," he said, "that I was lucky enough to live in the band. I thought that was something unique. So being able to come here and feel the level of love and the incredible reaction on today's radio station, means a lot to me. When I imagined what my solo career would be like, I really didn't know what to expect.

Re-filling stadiums

At 32-years-old, Louis Tomlinson has the experience of having been part of one of the greatest pop phenomena of the last 20 years, with sales records and sold-out shows in stadiums around the world. And now he is repeating the fury alone, just as it happened just a little earlier with his ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

In Louis’ case, he first sold out the closed Movistar Arena stadium in 2022 and now he goes through a huge soccer field like Vélez.

Q: Did you think that being a soloist you had to start from below and sing in smaller places?

Louis: Yes, exactly. But it turns out that I can still play in big places, so it's great.

Q: Can we really talk about a mania of a "louistomlinson-mania"? Does it happen everywhere or is it special in Latin America?

Louis: I think that in terms of the level of similar intensity, and seeing what happened a moment ago on the radio station, that certainly doesn't happen to me everywhere. Let me put it this way: it's incredible to be so far from home and feel that level of love. I'm very excited to think about what the show will be like here.

Q: It's incredible that almost exactly ten years have passed since the last time you filled Vélez. How do you feel when you return to the same stadium?

Louis: I feel very lucky to be able to play in those places again on my own. I also feel very, very proud of myself and my fans. I feel like we have created something that is quite special and we did it together. With them as listeners, but also as facilitators. That really helped my confidence and made me feel good on stage. It's a lovely relationship and I'm very proud of it.

Q: This tour started almost a year ago, how did it evolve with respect to the first shows?

Louis: I definitely feel in a good place right now with the show. Anyway, in advance I was excited about this tour because this album was designed for the live show. So I was excited to see how the songs would work. And the energy is great. I am very excited to show Faith in the Future to Latin America.

Q: How did the idea of making a live cover of Arctic Monkeys come about?

Louis: Arctic Monkeys grew up about 20 minutes from where I live. It was something very close, very fresh in the mind and obviously huge. I was growing up and I'm also a big fan. I usually do the song 505 because it's very pretty.

Often, with the versions, I probably think more about what I would like to sing than about what I imagine that everyone else would like to hear, which may be misjudged, but I'm enjoying it.

Q: When you were a teenager you sang Oasis songs and now you have a rock band that sounds very Brit-pop, almost closing a circle.

Louis: Thank you. I am very, very fortunate to have the band I have, but they also perform sonically and visually, everything that is really important to me. They sound absolutely incredible. I don't think I would be able to do this without my band.

Q: Live you also perform songs from One Direction. Did you feel that kind of shadow at the beginning of your solo career and now you are more comfortable looking back?

Louis: I think a bit about both things. I think that at the beginning of my career I would have been a little more worried about putting too many One Direction songs in the repertoire. What I wanted most was to spread my wings and show who I was. But I think that as time went by, the nostalgic moments are really charming. So it's like a beautiful mixture of nostalgia and it's very nice to do it.

Ping-pong

Q: This is the third time you have visited our country. If you had to describe your Argentine fans in three words, which one would you choose?

Louis: Passionate. Loyal. Affectionate. That’s okay, isn't it?

Q: The soccer player Kun Agüero said that there is a lot of talk to you through Instagram or Twitter. Have you ever met him in person?

Louis: Actually, we have never seen each other in person. Over the years we've talked a little here and there, but I never found time. I have a kind of crazy hope that he can come to the show.

Q: If you had to choose one of your songs, either from Walls or Faith in the Future, that reflects how you feel right now in your life, what would it be?

Louis: I would say that the name of the album (Faith in the future) represents where I am right now, but I think that in the future I would like to always be optimistic.

Q: And if all the One Direction discography was deleted and a song had to be saved. Which one would you save?

Louis: It's interesting... I would probably say Story Of My Life. That seemed like a real milestone. I would say it's a little more serious. And I also think it's a bit of a crazy song.

Q: You are a big soccer fan, do you have any preference for an Argentine club?

Louis: I'm very afraid to say something wrong... I'd better say that I love you all. (laughs)

Photos

Links

#louis press #louis tomlinson #fitfwt24: buenos aires #6.4.2024 #clarin

[cosmonabo]

(Un)Broken

Synopis: In which Chifuyu reunites with the one he shattered countless school years ago, seeking redemption, but perhaps it's just too late to apologize." Pairing: Chifuyu Matsuno + Fem!Reader. Genders: Angst, Drama and Tragedy, Farce. Content Warnings: mentions of tryte of suicides, bullying and autodepressed.

Prologue: Broken Bones

"Broken"; Adjective, masculine Definitions: Made into pieces; fragmented, fractured. Examples: Me and you.

'Ah, yes... You remember? You put gum in my hair in sixth grade. After everyone started laughing at me, you thought you were the sovereign of the class; did you find it funny? Was it funny to see me running desperately to the bathroom to hide from the shrill laughter?

Freak.

Yes... Then I became your little pet, right? Because of you, my shoes are fraying. You threw them into the school pool and then hurled them from the rooftop. And why? Because I filled your notebooks with glue. And then you had to redo the homework all over again.

Now it wasn't so funny, was it?'

The few off-beat seconds seemed to last hours in Chifuyu's mind, who could do nothing as the girl passed a few meters ahead. The cold weather seemed to distort her image, who constantly let out sighs in the cold winter air. Even after three years, he could still recognize her. However, after the wearying misfortunes of the past, her striking and bright eyes seemed to have lost their shine over the years. As if her world had become grayer, darker.

He imagined she was living in a "faded coloring." Where the walls of her mind had gone from vivid and cheerful colors to cold and icy tones. The walls of her memories were peeled and trampled like the old paint that falls from the walls and crumbles, commonly without any value.

And amidst all those students, who quickly passed through the crowd in haste, Matsuno did not take another step. [Name] Tsubaki seemed so close, yet at the same time, so distant and alone. He wanted to go up to her and say some words of regret, which had been stuck in the boy's throat for a long time. But he couldn't. Why couldn't he? It was so simple.

As he wandered in his bitter thoughts, some intuition from the randomness of the mind made her turn her head to face the one who was devouring her with his eyes. That's when he saw. On the side of her cheek, there were some band-aids, and her right arm - hidden inside the coat thrown over her shoulders - was covered by a white cast. Broken. Who did that? And why did she seem not to care?

Indifferently, she glanced at him sideways, the blond wondered how many curses she had cast on him in that brief moment of eye contact. And whether she cast any curse or not, she wasn’t wrong, she had every right to hate him to the depths of her being.

And as quickly as she looked, she looked away. For some reason, he got the impression that as she walked, her steps only increased in speed and the rhythm of her light strides through the crowd. Soon, disappearing among the masses of uniforms.

Leaving him desolate with his thoughts, those that he had buried a long time ago in the back of his mind. In that dark and lonely corner, where the image of the girl drenched in dirty water with disinfectant was still vividly memorable, unfortunately memorable.

"Huh? " the thoughtful blond murmured, lifting his gaze to face Takemichi who was standing in front of him.

As he leaned his own weight on the stairs leading to the temple. It hardly mattered to him whether he was dirtying the Toman uniform or not.

"What the hell happened to you? You look all depressed " Hanagaki ventured to ask, needing to clear his doubt or he would lose sleep over it tonight.

And he didn't wish to make a call to Chifuyu in the middle of the night.

"Oh, that... " he murmured, glancing away, trying to dodge the question "nothing happened. Just remembered some embarrassing stuff ".

Takemichi made a point of sitting next to Chifuyu, soon giving the downcast boy a sympathetic smile.

"You can talk ".

Surprised, Matsuno thought over the offer. Soon, he agreed. After all, he had nothing to lose.

"Well... There's someone..." he searched for words to soften the subject, but everything seemed too confusing.

"Ah, I see. You've got a crush on someone!"

"No! Not at all! " he denied, stammering. But somehow Takemichi's deduction helped to lessen his nervousness "it's just that... Let's say you have the opportunity to apologize to the person you bullied, what would you say?"

"That was very specific " he commented, a bit shocked by the statement "and well... I don't know. I've never bullied anyone, i think".

"I kind of expected that... " he admitted, sighing in frustration, but now feeling less burdened.

It was like diving into a sea of regrets and for the first time feeling your lungs being refilled with fresh air. It was liberating.

"Well, continuing... " he cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to himself "this person came back to school, after three years. We had never seen each other again, nor had I had the opportunity to apologize. And also, I don't know how to do it."

Constantly, Takemichi watched the boy with blond locks tighten his fingers repeatedly; restless. Drawing in air forcefully, trying to sound uninterrupted and unshakable, when in fact he was just gathering strength to finish the story. But he was afraid. Afraid of judgment and what Takemichi would say when he finished pouring his heart out.

Then, Takemichi delivered a slap on the back of his friend's neck. The one who let out a grunt of pain, since he was caught off guard at such a vulnerable moment. Dragging his hand to his neck.

"What the fuck, what was that!? "

"Don't worry " Takemichi said, standing back up, extending his hand in a comforting gesture "if you're as sorry as you seem, then that person will surely understand."

"Takemichi... " he murmured in surprise, massaging the affected area.

"You're human. Everyone's an asshole sometimes " he considered.

"When did you become like this? "

"I don't know. Saw it in a comic."

Behind the wall, both blonds watched her water the school garden's flowers, while the watering can poured water on the dry flowers, [Name] watched the birds flapping their wings flying far away. Startled by the rustling of the tree leaves.

Chifuyu was not surprised. The girl had always had an affection for botany. And it reminded him of when he buried her cardigan in the soil of the small garden at the back of school.

Which didn't help much with what little determination he had left inside.

He shook his head, pushing away the thoughts. He didn't expect to see her working with a broken arm, although that effort wasn't enough to tire her or affect her recovery.

"Is it her? " Takemichi dispelled the pessimistic thoughts from the guy with just the tone of voice with which he spoke those words.

Matsuno looked in the direction of his crouched friend, hidden behind the wall, who couldn't take his eyes off the girl. She, who cared little about the environment around her, not even realizing the presence of the two.

"Yeah... " he answered in the same low voice.

"And what are you waiting for? Go there! " he encouraged, seeing a reluctant grimace forming on the other's face.

He didn't feel like giving in at the crucial moment of the situation. But he was apprehensive. His eyes glowed with determination, but this confident and resolute look hid fear. A suppressed feeling of being ignored or having his apologies denied – rightfully so, of course.

He peeled his legs off the ground and began to walk towards the girl, who was now crouched trimming the flowers and tossing the small branches into the basket. Slowly, he approached with his hands in his pockets, as if he were getting close to a skittish cat.

And when [Name] noticed the presence of the blond, she rolled her eyes, looking at him standing at the entrance of the garden. She couldn't avoid the surprise in her gaze, but shortly after, she stood up and put away the gardening tools.

Chifuyu felt a lump forming in his throat.

As he was about to start the dialogue, he was interrupted by [Name]'s velvety voice.

"Do you want something? "

He hadn't heard her voice in a long time, so much so that he couldn't even remember the tone and how her words used to be light and kind.

"Ah, yes... No! i mean no! " he declined, searching for words "are you about to leave?"

"Yes, I have a violin test today " she lied, holding the backpack between her free arm and turning to leave. She didn't plan to prolong the conversation more than necessary.

But before the young woman could take a final step towards the ring of plants - a.k.a. the entrance to the garden - she felt a hand on her shoulder, not with brutality, but rather a touch filled with patience and gentleness. However, it wasn't enough to prevent the shock. [Name] felt so much fear that she didn't even bother hiding the trembling of her hands.

Anxious. The feeling of uncertainty.

"Please, wait " he pleaded, softly "I'm sorry."

If she were in a favorable position, she would certainly raise an eyebrow. Unfortunately, as she was not in a position to do so, she simply waited for him to continue.

"Just know that I regret it. A lot! I wouldn't even be able to see you every day without saying this first."

She stayed silent, thinking about what she had just heard. The usual calmness that surrounded [Name]'s face didn't vanish for a second.

"And is this just for you to feel good about yourself? " she dared to poke where it hurt.

Although she was terrified, it was the only opportunity to be honest and let go of the docile demeanor she had adopted for Matsuno over the years.

"Don't feel bad, it's been a long time " she said, brushing her fingers on the basket handle, releasing the anxiety "it's not like you or I care. I don't want to be your friend or anything, just... leave me alone. " she added, swallowing hard, while he patiently waited for her to finish speaking "So... Please! Don't look for me anymore!"

She mumbled the last words. Summoning courage from where she didn't have it, she quickly moved away from the boy.

And as soon as she finished speaking, she dropped the basket and ran away in a hurry, without any direction. She just wanted to distance herself from Chifuyu as much as possible.

He failed.

#chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #tokyo revengers chifuyu #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers #toman x reader #angst #chifuyu x you #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x fem!reader

[beebotea]

Hewllo!! Id like to drop a msg, i read ur heartsteel kayn's college boy and i adore the little details of his actions u put in ♡!! Id definitely like to see more stories on college boi kayn from you!! ♡

☁️ ˖⁺ academic misfortunes — kayn (heartsteel)

pairing: heartsteel!kayn x f/gn!reader genre: fluff, crack, college!au cw: idk probably ooc, not proofread :0 i.e.: adventures of collegeboy!kayn and his classmate/tutor!reader

aahhh! im so glad you enjoyed it <333 i might do a mini series/collection of drabbles for collegeboy!kayn. please send in any requests or ideas you may have or just thoughts to chat about :DD

spinoff of this post

Kayn isn’t what you’d thought he’d be, to be completely honest. Going off of fancams, fanfics, and the general perception of his character to the public eye, you expected Heartsteel’s lead rapper to be a bit more… cool? Well, at least he certainly tries to come off that way.

However, you quickly learn that Kayn is really just a really, really closeted softie loser boy at best trying to compensate with a big attitude because he thinks edgy is cool or whatever. Of course, he would definitely attempt to murder you if you were to speak of these musings out loud but you couldn’t help but find his off-putting demeanour a bit endearing after a while… something akin to a hyperaggressive chihuahua or a rabid raccoon. But of course, there are other times where you’d wish he’d just fuck off and leave you alone.

“Hey loser.” He calls you from the steps, walking up to where you sit in the lecture hall. “Did you do the homework? Let me copy off of you.” He slides into his usual spot next to yours, throwing his backpack haphazardly on the ground beside him.

“You’re not copying my shit. Fuck off, Kayn.” You roll your eyes at him and continue to read through the slides for today’s class.

“C’mon, have some empathy, yeah? The boys and I had practice all day yesterday.” He was a decent enough liar, but he could have been better if he hadn’t texted you to postpone your tutoring session with a picture of him and Aphelios playing with a random pit bull yesterday instead of attending band practice or completing his homework.

“Kayn, this worksheet was assigned like two weeks ago.”

“So? I had stuff to do two weeks ago!” That part was a bit true; Alune always gave you a copy of the band’s promotion and practice schedule for the month to keep you updated.

It was difficult to refer to him as your friend. You saw him often enough—every day in almost every class. And you’ve worked with him on countless partnered projects by now—he’s only ever able to do work with you (in other words, he scares off anyone who tries to ask you to be in their group or be their partner). But he was always a complete pain in the ass.

When you first became acquainted with Heartsteel’s resident delinquent, you were assigned to be his tutor by one of the department heads at the request of Yone. Begrudgingly accepting the role in exchange for “VIP tickets to all concerts, all inclusive backstage passes at events and shoots, and first dibs to new merch releases,” you began your new job as Kayn’s personal tutor for the various courses he was performing horrendously in. It was by no means smooth sailing when you started. Trying to make plans around his schedule, finding places he wasn’t already banned from to study, getting kicked out of establishments because of his hissy fits at minor inconveniences, and then ultimately agreeing to work at his dorm every weekend instead so you don’t have to hide your face in public. What surprised you the most was how hardworking he actually was when he put his mind to it, even paying attention to your explanations for hours until he could grasp the concept at an intermediate level—or got hungry. What was more was that he even showed rapid improvement, bringing back marks higher than a C- and occasionally reaching the mid to high 70s after a month and a half of beginning his tutoring sessions.

“Okay fine. Just this once, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise.” He flashed you a snarky grin as you pushed your papers towards him, pointing out which ones were a bit more difficult to understand and summarising what should’ve been an explanation done during one of your tutoring sessions.

“You really should start focusing up on your work though, you know. Finals is coming up soon and these exercises are really good for preparation.”

When the professor finally dismissed the class, you found yourself waiting behind for the bright haired rapper.

“Aw you waited! That’s cute.” He sent a quick wink your way as he caught up to you.

“Well you said you were gonna give me a ride to your place so.”

“Just had to ruin the moment didn’t you.” He chuckled, ushering you to follow him. “I hope you’re not scared of motorcycles or anything because I finally got Yone to let me ride it.”

“Huh?”

“Now where did I park it… hm let’s see… Oh! Here!” He grabbed you by the wrist to pull you towards a red and black motorcycle decorated on its sides with white flames. “Sooo whatd’ya think?” He nudged your sides as he grinned at you.

“You are not driving me in that.”

“Oh come on, of course I am! I have a license for it and everything!”

“Kayn you’re literally gonna get us killed.”

“Will not! C’mon, don’t you trust me? After everything we’ve been through? When have I ever let you down?”

“Like literally this morning when you cheated off of my worksheets instead of completing them before hand like you said you would.” You rolled your eyes at him, missing the way he pouted at your words.

“I promised it was a one time mistake!” He took two helmets from a storage compartment in the vehicle and shook them in front of your face, hoping that his attempt to show you his knowledge of roadside safety would sway you in the right direction. “So? How about it?”

With a defeated sigh, you agree with a mumbled “fine” as he threw you your helmet and instructed you to get on behind him. He even took the time to emphasize the importance of ‘holding on [to him] really really really tight.’

“See? ‘wasnt so bad was it?” He said as he helped you off the motorbike, lifting you off the seat by the waist. He helped you steady yourself when your feet finally touched the ground. His hand never seeming to leave its place on your hip.

“It was… fine. I guess.” You couldn’t help but give him a small grin, having enjoyed the ride and being so close to him. Kayn seemed to want to say something else until he was interrupted by a voice calling from the window above you.

“Hey! Kayn’s back!” Ezreal’s green head could be seen poking out from one of Heartsteel HQ’s many windows, waving to the two of you below him. “Hurry up inside! Yone made ramen!”

Before he knew it, you bolted past him and through the front door at the promise of Yone’s homemade cooking.

a/n: def down to write more abt this lovesick loser bad boy (please give me more excuses to)

#beebotea*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ writes #beebotea*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ replies #league of legends kayn #kayn #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #kayn x reader #kayn x you #heartsteel drabbles #heartsteel imagines

[writingsfromhome]

Shedding Memories

A/N: just a quick fic of running into Harry when you both need a friend. I wrote this p quickly so ignore any mistakes. Happy holidays everyone :)

———————————

The part I liked about getting the closing shift was that I could put on my music and completely zone out.

Dealing with the public was a shitty job, no matter the capacity, and zoning out let me compose myself before heading home.

But tonight, a customer stays hunched in the corner seat. I had called out to everyone 15 minutes ago that we were closing in a half hour and by now nearly everyone was gone. The last few people pack up, yet corner guy remains.

“Hi,” I say from behind him. “We’re closing very soon just wanted to let you know.”

“Yep. I’ll be off soon,” he says. His voice is rough and low, a slight accent to it. But he kinda mumbles so I could be imagining it.

But he’s not off soon. I put up all the chairs, lock the doors to anyone new, and wipe down the tables. It’s officially 10pm but the guy’s ass is as glued as it was when he first sat down.

I don’t know how long he’d been here for actually. I got in at 5 and he’d been there with a steaming cup of something. But he just stayed there save for one refill, all evening.

Was he homeless? I examine his hoodie and baggy jeans. They seemed more stylish than survival.

“Hi s’cuse me sir,” I drop the customer service voice a notch and stand next to him. He was really putting a wrench in my evening plans. “I’m sorry to kick you out but it is 10 which is when we close. So I do have to ask you to leave.”

God I hated this shit. Why couldn’t he just leave like a normal person!? And tonight of all nights I’d told my closing partner he could leave early for a date night. I wish I hadn’t. It would’ve felt safer kicking this guy out with another dude around.

“Sorry,” the guy says. His face is mostly covered by his hoodie and he turns away to pull something from his pocket. I watch wearily but it’s just his phone. He sighs and puts it face down. “Is there any chance I can stay here while you clean up?”

“I’m sorry no.” I wasn’t allowed to do that. “Is your phone dead? You can use ours if you need to call for someone?”

He sighs again, like he alone was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and I just wasn’t being understanding enough.

Stop judging so much, I chide myself. Maybe he has a tough life.

“Look, I…” I stop mid-sentence and my mouth stays in the shape of the vowel as he lifts his head up. Is it just me or did he look like global pop-sensation and former boy band member Harry Styles!?

He notices my expression and grimaces.

Okay, it had to be him. And I was acting like a total freak right now.

“Sorry.” I take a step back and bump into the broom I’d balanced on the chair behind me. It clatters to the floor and I jump.

“It’s alright,” he leans down and picks it up for me. Harry Styles was handing me the broom I was meant to close with. I was dreaming. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Are you…in trouble?” I couldn’t wrap my head around why a guy like him would spend the whole evening in the corner of a coffee shop, staring at the wall. And then ask to stay while I closed.

He looks at me for a beat, his eyes are every bit intense as I assumed they would be. In real life, his beauty is a lot more breathtaking than photos. Or maybe I was just having some sort of breakdown. And he’s at least 7 inches taller than me, so he towers over me and I feel nothing but intimidated.

“Fuck. Sorry. Wait.” I shake my head. I have to look away from him. I had to clear my head!

I walk with the broom to the register. “Stop acting like a weirdo!” I whisper to myself.

Harry Styles was in my coffee shop. I was alone with Harry Styles in my coffee shop. What the hell was this? Wattpad?

I turn back around, but he’s looking out the window.

“Sorry. I’m being super weird right now but I wasn’t expecting…you. To be the guy I’m trying to kick out!”

“It’s fine.” He turns back to me.

“I don’t want to be nosy and pry but um, is everything okay? Did you need…help?”

His face loosens a bit with a small smile. I look past him so I can continue having this conversation and not require an inhaler for the first time in my life.

“It would help if I can stay here while you clean up actually.”

“Yeah! Okay…I mean I’m not supposed to but you’re like, Harry Styles? I’m sure my manager would not mind a single bit. She plays your songs all the time it’s basically part of onboarding. By the time we know all the drinks on the menu we also know all your lyrics and I….I’m gonna shut up.”

I turn back with the broom and start sweeping. Was I too awkward? Was I even sweeping like a normal person? Oh god was I being too stiff. Did I forget how to sweep???

I pause.

Maybe I should ask him another question. Maybe-

“I don’t want to get you in trouble uhm-,” I turn and he’s speaking to me 10 feet away. He squints at my name tag.

“Y/N.” I say it for him.

“Y/N. I can leave if I’m gonna get you in trouble-“

“No. No it’s okay! Seriously just sit wherever. But I will put on my own music while I close up, and you’ll have to suffer through it.”

“I don’t consider listening to music suffering.” He jokes. He makes a joke! With me!

“Well then you’ll love Baby Shark,” I joke back. He tilts his head—the joke doesn’t land. “Bad joke. Nevermind. I’m a Phoebe Bridgers fan so just prepare to be in your feelings!”

“I love her,” Harry nods approvingly. “Play on.”

As Phoebe’s distinct voice plays through the speakers I find myself relaxing, mouthing the words, and getting lost in the closing up routine. Of course, I never forget Harry Styles was sitting in the corner. If I did I would be belting the songs out loud. But it starts to feels less dreamy and the randomness begins to flatline to normal.

“Okay, I’m just gonna toss these out.” I shake the unglamorous bags of trash in my hands a half hour later. “And then I’m kicking both of us out.”

“Let me give you a hand.” Before I could protest Harry freaking Styles takes the trashbag from my hand and walks to the back door.

“Whaaaat,” I whisper to myself before scurrying behind him.

He tosses it with ease. I’m sure he had amazing arms under that baggy hoodie of his. He could probably toss me as easily—

I needed to chill.

“Do you have a ride?” I ask as we wash hands. “I can give you a lift somewhere? Unless your car’s outside? Um. Yeah. You probably have your own car nevermind.”

He’s silent, maybe I needed to shut up and stop blabbering.

“I take it you haven’t seen the news.” He leans back against the counter, drying his hands.

“News? Do people still watch that?” Bad joke. Stop talking.

“Uh,” his eyes crinkle slightly. “Social media. Whatever.”

“Nope. Been a busy day.”

“Right…”

“Something happened right? That’s why you’re hiding out here.”

“Yep,” he nods.

“Did your nudes leak or something?”

He looks at me, one brow raised. Fuck! I feel the blood rush to my face.

“Sorry! I am so out of my depth right now and I don’t know why I said that! That was bad. It’s just the worst thing that came to mind I-“

I register his shoulders shaking at first and then he’s doubling over laughing. I stare at first but then I chuckle with him. I’m too nervous to actually laugh at whatever’s happening even though I know looking back I definitely will.

“That’s alright,” he’s grinning when he looks back up. I would be mesmerized by it if his hood hadn’t slipped back to reveal no fucking hair.

“What…is that…?”

“What?” When I point to his head he touches it. He seems to remember himself. “Oh. I forgot I’d done that.”

“That’s new? Is that what’s out there? Is that why you’re hiding?”

“It’s not really new. I cut it all off yesterday-“

“I think you did more than cut it.” It was basically buzzed.

He laughs again and I feel bubbly inside. The bubbles fill me with a weird energy—just as long as it didn’t bubble up out of my mouth and come out in babbling I didn’t have to worry. I cover my mouth to contain any nervous words just in case.

“Why are you covering your mouth? Is it that bad?”

He looks into the warped reflection on the coffee machine. It didn’t look bad.

“It’s different. You’re known for your hair y’know? It’s not bad…just wow. Different.”

“Different’s not bad?”

“No! We’ll just need to get used to it. Honestly you kind of pull the whole buzzed look off. I bet if you grew out like a proper moustache it could be really…”

Thank god I stop myself this time. Because I was going to say a word I would definitely be mortified by.

“Really?” He smirks.

“Cool.” I finish lamely. “So um. Anyway. Are you good or should I drive you somewhere? Are you in trouble with the police or something?”

“I could use a ride…” He says with a slight cringe. “Is that something you’re alright doing?”

“Yeah! I was just gonna go home and stuff my face with leftovers before falling asleep in front of like, Gilmore Girls or something.”

“That’s a good show. That sounds like a nice time actually.”

“Does it? Because I regretted saying it as soon as it came out of my mouth.”

“Do you have a filter?” He asks but he smiles, he wasn’t annoyed. Not yet at least.

“Usually. But I also don’t normally have casual conversations with people I only ever see on the news or on my phone.”

“Do people still watch the news?”

It dawns on me slowly, he was making fun of me and repeating the question I asked earlier. I cover my face with my hands and he laughs. It’s such an intoxicating sound. And I really want to stop feeling like an idiot.

“I’m just bothering you,” hands come down on my wrist and oh my fuck he was touching me! He tugs at my hands and I drop them, still unable to meet his eyes.

I stuff my hands in my pocket. “I know. I’m probably going to lie awake for hours tonight thinking about every embarrassing thing that’s come out of my mouth.”

“No look,” he steps in front of me. He puts his hands on his chest and I notice the rings on his fingers, his tattoos. This was really Harry Styles in front of me.

“No look at me.” He tries to get my attention again. “See, I’m just a person. Just like you. Yeah I sing and shit but I’m just a guy.”

“You say that like I don’t have the world’s worst history with guys.” I finally make the push to look up into his face. I had an even worse history with attractive guys. “But I understand what you’re trying to achieve. And I appreciate it. You’re just shmegular and I can stop being a weirdo.”

“My phone works.” He says suddenly. “I just turned it off because I have a million people calling and texting me for some sort of response.”

I don’t reply, unsure where he was going.

He didn’t really have to make all this effort to make me comfortable but I recognize why he’s doing it; trying to bring himself down to earth for me. And it’s sweet and endearing and I want to tell him he didn’t have to do that. That I would help him out even if he wrote me a note, simply because he was Harry freaking Styles. But I just stay quiet for the first time tonight.

“Someone leaked pap photos of my girlfriend cheating on me.”

I gasp, I can’t help it. “I’m sorry. Harry. I-That’s an awful fucking way to find out.”

“It…” he glances around as if we weren’t the only two people around. “I shouldn’t be saying this but. It was just for show. The relationship, I mean. The guy in the photo’s her actual boyfriend so I don’t really care. Never wanted to do this fake shite in the first place but I was kinda forced to by my management. It promoted my new single, and her new show or whatever.”

“Oh.” I guess that’s the way his world worked. My world was begging my coworker to change shifts with me so I could have my weekly mental breakdown in private.

“Yep. So everyone is expecting me to give a statement, play the part of jilted boyfriend, but I can’t be arsed by any of it. I just want everyone to leave me alone.”

“So you holed up in the corner of this coffee shop, and stared at that wall for the last like…how many hours?”

“I lost count.” He shrugs. “And I did have a book I was reading. I wasn’t just staring at the wall.”

I shrug, “I’m not judging. I stare at the wall a lot. Especially on my breaks.”

He laughs again, and it breaks the serious air around his story.

“So where am I taking you if you’re avoiding everyone? Do you have a hotel room or?”

“It’s probably swimming in paps.” He sighs.

“So wild idea. I have a couple roommates who are supposed to be out tonight. Do you want to stay at my place until you feel like answering your phone?”

His face looks so hopeful for a second. “No. I can’t do that to you.”

“Remember when I detailed my evening plans? It’s honestly nothing.”

He gets all broody as he shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to drag you into it-“

“Look you’re in disguise. I live far away from whatever hotel you can afford that no one will see you. And I can drop you off on a street corner tomorrow morning whenever you want.”

“Like a hooker?”

“Yeah. We can play reverse pretty woman.”

He smiles. I stare.

“Fine. Yeah. Alright.”

“Alright! Let me turn out the light and we’ll go.”

So that’s how I find myself driving Harry Styles to my apartment, realizing the closer we get to home how filthy I had left my room.

“Don’t judge please,” I say in the elevator up. “But our apartment is not magazine worthy. It’s just home.”

“Home sounds nice,” he says. His hoodie’s back up and covering most of his face. It feels silly talking to him like this.

“Stay here,” I instruct him when we walk in. I zip into my room, it’s not as bad as it could be but I move all the dirty laundry to the hamper, gather the papers on my desk in one pile, shove my makeup back into a drawer, and gather as many empty cans and glasses into my hands to take back to the kitchen.

When I go back to him he’s standing exactly where I left him.

“Okay. So I only have leftovers. Chinese. Are you hungry? I can order us something else or-“

“No that sounds perfect.”

“Does it?” I tell him to come in and he follows me to the kitchen, sitting down at the island as I pull plates and containers out. “Okay just fill your plate and I’ll heat it up. Are you sure this is alright?”

“You’ll be surprised at my diet when I’m on tour. It starts out good but by the end of it I want to get my stomach pumped for all the shite I put into it. This looks delicious.”

I dish out dinner for us and decline his request to help. I try not to be hyperaware of him watching me move around our small kitchen, and focus on thinking of him as a guest. That’s it.

“So um, why the haircut?” I ask as I carry the plates to my room. I had the biggest room in the house and by biggest that simply meant I could afford a queen sized bed and my closet could fit all my clothes. I’d been living here for the last year and a half with my two roommates.

“Eh,” he runs his hand over his head. I was really tempted to do it, see what it felt like. But I refrain. Obviously. “Turning over a new leaf? In a lot of cultures, hair symbolizes a lot. I felt like starting fresh, and getting rid of all of it would just help.”

“Yeah I’ve heard of that. Like the hair that’s grown has witnessed everything over the last few years—at least if you grow it long enough to last a few years.”

“Hm yeah,” he says between bites. I can’t believe Harry Styles was eating last night’s leftovers with me. “Exactly.”

“Maybe I should chop most of my hair off.” I muse. “I could use that new leaf shit.”

“Why?” Harry asks bluntly. I nearly choke on a piece of broccoli. “Sorry. I’m being the nosy one aren’t I?”

“No,” I clear my throat. “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

“You don’t have to answer.” He smiles, god did he have to look so charming? “But I’d love to know what memories your hair holds.”

Damn. He had a way with words.

He’s an artist, I think. Duh.

“Let’s see.” I hold the bottom few inches. “Quitting my fancy job because I was burnt out and going through an existential crisis.” I climb higher and hold the next few inches. “Traumatic breakup with my long-term guy. How could a lawyer date a barista after she’d been a doctor y’know? A power couple can’t include a lowly job like a barista.” I roll my eyes like I wasn’t going to cry all over again, and hold another inch. “And this here is me grieving everything I thought my life was going to be.”

He’s silent for a bit. I think I’ve actually shocked him into silence. I almost laugh.

He puts his plate down and leans over, topping the top of my head. “This?”

The spot where he touched my head thrums. I think about the last year of my life. “Realizing my identity isn’t my career. And that for the first time in my life I can pursue my passions.”

“Hm.” He nods. “That’s a good realization.”

“Yeah, it really was for me.”

“I don’t have any boundaries between my identity and my life…” he goes silent again. I know he’s thinking so it doesn’t feel awkward. I go back to my dinner.

“So what’s the passion you’re pursuing?” He asks. Probably to change the subject.

“Well…” I put my plate down and walk to my closet, sliding open the door. I point to the floor. His face scrunches and he gets up to get a closer look.

“Do you sing or something?” He asks.

“God no!” I laugh. I guess he would think that seeing the blanket, laptop table, and microphone. “I started a podcast and it’s soundproof in here. I love this little space actually.”

“A podcast?!” He looks at me, impressed. I try not to blush. “What about?”

“Um, well I do know my medical shit—studied it for years and all. But it’s about taking care of ourselves, giving advice to people, burnout, identities, everything I learned leaving my job. All that.”

“Wow.” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s amazing.”

I shrug and go back to sitting on my bed, taking another bite of my dinner.

“Do you get a lot of listens?”

“I have a couple hundred listeners.” I tell him. “Actually. At first I was obsessive over the numbers. I’d spent the last couple decades obsessed over numbers—grades and all that. It was a habit.”

“And now?”

“Well I had to force myself to never look at my numbers for the first while and it helped me focus on the content itself. Make sure I was making something I put my heart behind, not just something I thought would do well. It’s been half a year now, and I’m just starting to look at them again.”

“Wow. Half a year that’s amazing. Good for you. I know we barely know each other but…I’m proud of you for figuring that all out. It’s inspiring.”

He was right, we barely knew each other. Yet somehow I knew he was genuine about what he was saying. I feel a warm tingling sensation in my stomach. “Thank you Harry.”

“Yeah. Wow.” His eyes flicker over my hair. “There is a lot of memories in that hair of yours.”

“Yeah it’s like, was it Mean Girls? My hair isn’t big, but it’s so long because it’s filled with secrets.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “That’s a good line.”

“Maybe I should cut it off,” the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. Why was I keeping it this long? “I should cut it off.”

“Uh I don’t know…”

“No!” I get up again, firm in what I wanted. The only reason my hair was always long was because my ex had told me once he liked it long. And now that I thought about it, I’d unconsciously kept it that way since. Fuck that! I wanted to get rid of these memories, “I want to turn a new leaf and all that bullshit.”

“I feel like I’ve been a bad influence.” Harry says softly.

“You’re cutting my hair Styles-“

“I don’t know how to!”

“C’mon we’ll watch a youtube video. You play guitar I’m sure you’re good with your hands.”

An awkward silence stretches and he coughs out a laugh.

“Oh my god not like that!” I take his hand and try not to think of whatever image he had just thought of. “Bathroom, scissors, phone. Let’s go.”

I queue up a video as he follows me. I shut the door and shove the video in his hands. Meanwhile, I turn the bathtub tap on and dunk my hair in it to get it wet so it would be easier to cut. Like the video said.

“Y/N,” Harry says wearily. Hearing my name out of his mouth is weird.

“Did you watch it?” I rummage through the drawers and come up with a pair. “Here.”

“They use an electric-“

“Just do it with the scissors!” I encourage him. “If it’s uneven that’s okay! I can get it fixed later in the week.”

I turn back to the mirror and everything slows down as I take the scene in. Harry Styles in my bathroom, standing behind me and eyeing me nervously. Me, with my too-long hair, flushed and determined to get this all over with, to shed the memories I’d been holding on for too long.

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking me dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Yep! I’m 100% sure.”

“Don’t kill me if you wake up tomorrow and regret this.”

“Just cut it.”

“So bossy,” he smiles and begins combing my hair down like the video had. I watch him, it’s endearing how much concentration he has as he perfects my strands and begins to measure. He’s slow, and deliberate, and I know I picked the right dude because I’d guessed correctly—he was a perfectionist.

When the first big chunk is removed and he deposits it in the sink I tear up. I feel the weight of it removed and it makes me think of everything it witnessed.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” I reach out and touch the hair that was attached to me seconds ago. It was just hair, but it also wasn’t. “Continue.”

His hand brushes my neck again and I try not to lean into his touch. Try not to think about how close we were. This was Harry Styles, not just a random dude. Get it together. Nothing was going to happen here as intoxicating as his touch was and whatever cologne he wore.

When he finishes my hair, it barely brushes my shoulders.

“I.” I turn around and face him. “Love it!”

“Really?”

“Really!” I turn back to look at myself again and I see his shoulder settle down. He watches me turn my head every way in the mirror.

“It looks good on you. The short hair.”

It did. My ex never saw me with short hair. It was like I was a new woman.

“I feel brand new.”

He smiles behind me. “That’s how I felt yesterday”

I turn back to face him, forcing myself not to think too hard about the foot of space between us. “Thank you. I know this isn’t how you thought your evening was going to go. But I needed this. So…thank you.”

Something flickers past his face. His smile grows smaller. “Yeah. This actually made me forget all about what’s waiting for me. So I should say thank you for distracting me.”

“No moping,” I open the door to the bathroom, grateful to get more space. “There are drinks in the fridge if you’d like. I’m going to wash out my hair quickly and then you and I are watching Gilmore Girls.

“I’ve only watched the first season.” He backs out into the hall.

“Perfect. We’ll start at season 2!”

When I get back to my room, jammies on and ready for a cozy night in, Harry’s already looking half asleep.

I tell him where to sit—I’d set up my room so that my bed is against the wall and the set of pillows turns it into a day bed. On the opposite wall I’d left it blank to allow my projector to play anything from my laptop. He settles onto one side and I sit beside him, making sure to leave a foot of space between us.

As I navigate my laptop to pull up the show, I feel fingers on my hair. I turn to him.

“It actually suits you. Look really nice.”

He rubs a strand between his fingers.

“I feel lighter.”

He drops his hand and rubs it over his own head.

“Me too.”

We smile at each other, a bond tying me to him. I hoped doing this could be like a last step before I can fully move on from the last chapter of my life. I’d already done so much of my healing but I still found myself crying at 2ams and staring at my bedroom ceiling at 2pms. I needed this—talking to a stranger about it all, and shedding the weight physically.

Now all that was left was to cozy up and watch my favourite show.

“So how many Gilmore girls are there?” Harry whispers as I press play.

“You did not just ask that question. Are you sure you watched season 1?”

“A couple years ago yeah.”

“Then just watch.” I pull my blanket up and feel Harry shift slightly, our shoulders touch.

“Thanks Y/N,” he whispers after a while.

“Thank you,” I tell him. Whatever we did for each other tonight felt like fate had put us in a blender and pressed power. I mean, me and Harry freaking Styles were together on my bed at 1am, watching Gilmore Girls and falling asleep halfway. I guess we’d both needed a fresh perspective and a friend, and this was a good a way as any to make some new memories.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles hair #this fic is qd #baldrry #lmao at these being tags

[f1letters]

maroon | cs55

"how the hell did we lose sight of us again? sobbing with your head in your hands, ain't that the way shit always ends?"

summary: they both knew their relationship would ruin them both, but they couldn't stop themselves from running back to each other every goddamn time

warning: angst, toxic relationship, mentions of a vicious cycle of breaking up and making up, right person wrong time, suggestive language, swearing, a bunch of references to older classic rock bands and albums (and CAS because they are my fav band of all time haha), open ending

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

word count: 4.3k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

spanish words used: hermosa = beautiful; corazón = heart

hey everybody! honestly, this song is the one I've been looking forward to writing the most since the beginning... I worked so hard and I gave everything I had in me to this story (hence the story being the longest so far, something about writing for Carlos just makes me write so much more every time, haha), I couldn't be more proud of what I did! haha, hopefully, you guys love it as much as I do! happy holidays to everyone! 💜

masterlist

When the morning came

We were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf

'Cause we lost track of time again

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Like you were my closest friend

Dozens of voices echoed through the crowded room, engaged in different conversations and dialogues.

The crowd seemed to have a life of its own. Old friends catching up on the latest news in their lives. New friends being made unexpectedly. The sharing of the latest gossip and rumours among the most curious souls. The sound of endless, genuine laughter through the halls.

In the middle of the glowing lights, the shiny clothes and the loud music, hidden in the shadows, there she was.

Y/N had escaped the huddled bodies until she found refuge in an empty room. With the door closed, the noise of the party was now muffled, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts as she searched through a vinyl shelf she found there.

Led Zeppelin. Pink Floyd. Radiohead. The Clash. Their owner had taste, she thought, fascinated by their timeless records. The young woman also appreciated these older classic albums, although she couldn't find many people like her.

With her hands roaming over the vinyl without much care for the party happening, Y/N nearly dropped a Nirvana album on the floor when the bedroom door burst open.

"Oh." The unknown man said, stopping in his track when he came face to face with her. "Sorry, but do I know you?"

"Hmm, I don't think so." The girl frowned in doubt. Her eyes widened as she realized she was clearly breaking into someone's room. "Oh my god, is this your room? It is, isn't it? What was I thinking going in like that-"

"Hey, don't worry! It's okay! I just wasn't expecting to see anyone in here." He chuckled softly, extending his hand to the girl. "I'm Carlos, and you are...?"

"Y/N, nice to meet you!" She shook his hand back. The girl could have sworn she felt a spark run through her veins as soon as she felt his touch.

"Hmm, sorry for going through your stuff. I- I'm a huge music lover and I- Just couldn't help myself." The girl continued, half choking up, half laughing at herself, lifting the album in her hand to show Carlos what she was doing.

"I don't mind." The driver responded, approaching her and taking the vinyl from her hold. The warm skin of his hand contrasted with her cool one, letting his touch linger. "So, are you a Nevermind fan?"

"More of a Bleach girl myself." Y/N said smugly, her eyes glazing over the boy's charming figure before returning to the shelf. "You have an incredible collection. I wish I had this many records."

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" you say

"Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how"

I see you every day now

Hours passed, and both lost track of time as they talked about everything and anything. 

Y/N and Carlos were instantly attracted to each other, bonded not just by their shared love of music but by a soul connection neither could explain.

It was profound in ways that were beyond physical attraction, it had to be experienced to be truly understood.

Almost like their souls knew each other from the past.

The couple stood there, only a few hours after they met, sitting on the floor of his bedroom. They laughed with her feet in his lap, with a cheap-ass screw-top bottle of rosé beside them.

It was like an enchanting enigma how much they felt like each other's closest friends, like they had been part of each other's lives forever.

A Fleetwood Mac song was playing from Carlos's red vinyl record player when the woman spoke. "Isn't it crazy that I ended up at your house party and didn't even know who you were until you walked into this room?"

The two chuckled softly as their eyes locked and the driver's hand ran along the top of her thigh. "A bit maybe." He bit his bottom lip, a little unsure and nervous. Deciding to take risks that night, he continued. "But it was totally worth sneaking in here and skipping the party just to meet you."

Y/N could feel her cheeks heat up as they flushed. The girl tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and looked away from him to the floor.

"I don't know about you," Carlos again captured the attention of the girl beside him, approaching her little by little. "But I don't think I've ever felt this chemistry with anyone in my entire life, hermosa."

Driven by her impulsiveness and by the tension that hung in the air, the young woman made the first move and closed the space between them, letting her lips rest on his in a much-desired kiss. 

It started out soft and slow, their hearts beating faster and faster as the adrenaline grew. Y/N let her mouth open a little, and the driver took that as a sign to let his tongue swirl in her mouth. Her hands found their place among the brown locks of his wild hair, as he pulled her body towards him until she was on top of him.

Y/N was never one for one-night stands or sex on the first date, but that moment felt different for her. None of it felt sudden, ill-considered, or a mistake.

In fact, Y/N had never felt like anything was so right as pulling the Spaniard onto his bed mattress that night.

And I chose you

The one I was dancing with

In New York, no shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

For the next six months, Y/N and Carlos were inseparable.

Their feelings for each other continued to grow stronger and stronger with every passing day. However, the two kept them secret from each other, hidden in the privacy of their own minds.

During those magical months since the night they'd met, they'd given themselves to each other, body and soul. But they both knew there was something more between them: something impossible to ignore, something special.

So special that the two feared they would ruin it by putting a title on their relationship.

They were… Friends with benefits, lovers, soulmates? All options were honest and sincere, but they were only attempts to escape the term "boyfriend and girlfriend".

Painting New York City white, snowflakes fell from the skies while shimmering under the lights like jewels bestowed by winter.

The couple could already see their destination, such was the way the girl's maroon apartment building stood out among the snow-covered sidewalks.

Carlos hugged her waist from behind, squeezing the girl's body and picking her up off the ground.

"Carlos, stop! You're going to drop me, you idiot!" Y/N squealed playfully, being immediately put down again in front of her door.

The driver placed a tender kiss on her forehead and then adjusted the black beanie that covered the top of her head. "I would never let you fall, corazón."

Except I already fell for you, she thought to herself, making her heart ache.

The two hurriedly climbed the building's stairs, eager to return to the warmth of her home. They had barely passed the front door when the two started taking off their cold and damp shoes in search of some relief from the discomfort in their feet.

The Cigarettes After Sex album that they were listening to before leaving her living room continued to echo through the walls of the apartment. Immediately, Carlos grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, wrapping her shoulders with his arms as he started to sway their connected bodies gently to the music.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked, caught off guard by the driver's movements.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Carlos asked playfully, running his hand through the young woman's long hair. "I'm dancing with you to your favourite band."

Just when she thought it wasn't possible for her feelings to grow any further, Carlos seemed to challenge her, proving her wrong all over again. Her heart could explode at any second with how much love for the Spaniard she kept in it.

"Carlos?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yes, hermosa?" He replied in the same tone.

"I'm so glad I chose you."

In the end, what mattered to them was seizing the moment before it was over, being happy with each other before the inevitable end came.

Both Y/N and Carlos couldn't help sensing that they were doomed to end sooner or later.

The burgundy on my t-shirt

When you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks

So scarlet, it was

Eventually, the first signs of the end of their honeymoon phase began to appear.

Their flaws seemed more noticeable, their patience thinner, and their problems more difficult to solve.

All of a sudden, the illusion that their relationship was perfect started to fade with time.

The two began to see themselves as opponents with their backs turned to each other instead of the hopelessly in love souls they were in the beginning.

On a random spring night, the two were getting ready for another one of their dates, in the privacy of his house, like they did so many times before.

The two naturally assumed their tasks without much dialogue at this point: Y/N was leaning over the stove as she finished cooking dinner for them, while Carlos was in the dining room setting the table.

After completing what he had to do, the driver went to the kitchen in search of a wine to serve with the pasta that his lover was preparing. He opened the pantry and took out his favourite red wine from one of the bottom shelves.

Carlos walked to one of the drawers, removing his corkscrew from it, and opened the bottle without knowing that Y/N was moving dangerously close to him. 

By accident, his sudden movement caused the bottle to splash onto the once-white t-shirt the young woman wore, now leaving a huge burgundy mark on it.

"Are you fucking serious?" Y/N complained, disgusted with the state of her outfit. "This t-shirt is new, Carlos. For fuck's sake, this stain is never coming off."

"Calm down, it's not like someone died. It's just a fucking t-shirt, Y/N." Carlos replied, in the same aggressive tone. "I'll buy you a new one. Don't let this night be ruined for something so small."

"You'll buy it?! You always think that your money solves everything, don't you?" The girl spat, starting her way to her room to change her clothes. "I just wish you would be careful for once in your life and not be so fucking clumsy."

"It's a piece of fabric, oh my God." Carlos followed her, not ready to give up. "Get over it!"

"You know what? Enjoy your dinner alone. I'm out of here."

And so their new routine began: they argued, they fucked, they made up, they repeated.

The rooms they'd once set on fire with their burning, sizzling passion were now left in ashes, burned by the flame that brought them back to each other's arms, time after time.

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

Fight after fight, the two kept finding their way to each other every single time, like two individuals relapsing on their favourite addiction.

The young woman had been dragged by the Spaniard to another one of his races, though as a very discreet and unknown guest.

Nobody knew her in that world, not even his closest colleagues, and Y/N couldn't help but feel hurt by all of Carlos' secrecy.

Okay, they weren't together-together, but the fact that she wasn't even mentioned to his best friends still seemed like a red flag to her.

Y/N had managed to escape to his room without anyone noticing, coming face to face with the shirtless figure with his back to her.

"Hey, handsome." The girl approached him, placing her hands on his chest as she leaned against his naked back.

"Corazón, you are here." The driver turned towards her, placing a kiss on her lips and down along the side of her neck. "I missed you so much. These weeks without you have driven me crazy."

"Hmm... Were you missing me or having me?" Y/N questioned, trying to pretend to be unaffected by the way his mouth sucked on her collarbone so sensually.

The boy turned his eyes to her gaze and cupped her face gently in his hands. "You, hermosa. You."

Their moment was interrupted by a member of Ferrari knocking on the door, warning Carlos that he would have to prepare for the driver's parade. Both of them slipped from his room and the motorhome, coming across two other drivers she recognized from watching other races.

"Well, well, well," Lando announced, messing with Carlos and his mystery companion. "What do we have here? Sainz, you don't even introduce your 'friend' here to your boys"

"Pfff, friend." The Spaniard's teammate, Charles, replied, also joking. "At least her fresh hickey tells me otherwise."

The girl immediately looked down at the neckline of her shirt, where she noticed the love bite near her neck.

And when her gaze rested on her lover's annoyed face, she realized how unhappy he was that they got caught.

When the silence came

We were shaking, blind and hazy

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

Sobbing with your head in your hands

Ain't that the way shit always ends?

"Since this muppet here doesn't want to introduce us, I'll do the honours. I'm Lando, this is Charles." The McLaren driver said, pointing to his Ferrari friend, followed by his outstretched hand towards the girl.

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/N." She greeted the British, and then the Monegasque.

"So why are you hiding your beautiful girlfriend from us, Sainz?" Charles asked curiously.

"She's not my girlfriend, I have to go." Carlos replied, turning away and leaving behind two shocked friends, a hurt girl and her heart broken into little pieces.

After hearing a thousand apologies from the two nice guys for meddling in matters that weren't theirs, Y/N decided to walk to the exit of the circuit and skip the race altogether.

Hours passed and only silence came to her hotel room, with no sign of Carlos.

The girl sat on the floor, back against the bed covered with a maroon duvet, shaking, blind and hazy, until he eventually appeared.

How the hell did we lose sight of us again, she thought to herself over and over again.

The driver entered the room, shoulders slumped in regret, expecting to find an upset Y/N he had to apologize to.

Never did he expect to find the girl he loved sobbing with her head in her hands.

Carlos knelt down in front of the young woman, placing his hands on her knees, which provoked her to look at him with eyes smudged with mascara.

"Sorry, hermosa." The boy apologized, letting his forehead rest against her knee.

"Sorry for what, Carlos?" Y/N asked, determined to get the truth out of him.

"I shouldn't have turned away and left you alone with Lando and Charles." The Spaniard confessed. "I understand that you didn't see the race, but it's done now, you don't need to be like that..."

"The discussion is over, yes." The girl spoke, getting up from the floor and looking at the image of him still kneeling. "But us, this, whatever it is, that is over too."

"Stop, Y/N!" The driver also got to his feet, trying to stop her from leaving. "This is just another argument. We always come back to each other, that's the way shit always ends."

The woman released her wrist from his hold, opened the door and glanced at him over her shoulder before walking away.

"Not this time."

You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway

Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

I feel you, no matter what

The rubies that I gave up

A day passed. Then two days. Three days.

On the fourth day, the doorbell to her New York apartment rang and her heart just knew that he was going to be the person behind the door.

Y/N opened the entrance to her house and there he was as expected: Carlos, standing there, hollow-eyed in the hallway, flowers in hand.

"Before you interrupt me, I beg you: please, listen to what I have to say. Then you can send me away if you want and I'll go." Carlos begged her, his hands gripping the red flowers more tightly. "I love you. I'm sorry I came to that conclusion so late but I do, I love you. So much my chest hurts whenever I'm not with you. And I know I've been an asshole to you, especially on this last race, and I know I don't deserve you but I'm not ready to give up on you, on us."

The young woman remained silent, listening to the words she'd been waiting to hear all these months.

But they were too late.

"These roses are for you, corazón. I know they are your favourite flowers." The driver held the flowers out to her.

"Carnations," Y/N replied, leaving the Spaniard more confused than ever. "These are carnations, not roses."

The two kept their eyes together until a tear ran down the girl's eyes. And both of them knew.

"I'm sorry, Carlos, but you should leave." Y/N sobbed. "I loved you all this time but I had enough."

And I lost you

The one I was dancing with

In New York, no shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

Maroon

It took six months for them to end their perfect, magical honeymoon phase. 

Followed by another six months of endless fighting and pain inflicted on each other.

Perhaps in some poetic way, six months passed from Y/N losing him until they saw each other again.

Nothing hurt more than being away from the one person she loved more than anyone. Especially when she knew the passion and the love between them were still there.

She couldn't help feeling that they were two cursed souls destined to suffer for their love.

Without Carlos, even music seemed to sound different. 

Since the day she saw the boy walk out the door, her vinyl had remained exactly in the same place, gathering dust, as she didn't have the courage to listen to them again without being consumed by memories of them.

Trapped in her thoughts on yet another sleepless night, Y/N looked up at the sky and thought to herself: I can't die from a broken heart, but I can't help but feel like a part of me did that day.

The burgundy on my t-shirt

When you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks

So scarlet, it was

Maroon

Tired of brooding over the excruciating time away from the driver, Y/N relented and agreed to leave the comfort of her home to go to a party for the first time in a long time.

Dressed to the nines, the girl found herself in a crowd in the middle of an unfamiliar house.

It was the same as always: old friends, new friends, gossip, rumours, laughter, shining lights, loud music.

The young woman simply couldn't enjoy that life as she did before. All she wanted was to go home, lay under the covers, with the fire burning on her fireplace... But the memories that place held of him began to feel like they were too much for her to bear.

Alcohol in her hand, as usual, Y/N escaped the noise to a random room in the house, much like the night she met Carlos. 

This time, the girl found herself in the middle of a guest room, with nothing more than a bed and some basic furniture, where she sat enjoying a sweet drink.

Mirroring that night even further, Y/N was stunned when the white bedroom door opened to let in the tanned, handsome boy who was consuming her head.

"Oh," Carlos said, unable to contain his feelings when he saw the woman again after so long. "Hey, I- I was just looking for the bathroom. I- I'm going to go."

"No, wait!" Unconsciously, Y/N stood up, grabbing the driver's wrist without giving it much thought until she felt the blood rush into her cheeks. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. I just- I don't know... I miss you."

The Spaniard let her words sink in, all emotions on the surface. "Y/N... Please, don't do this. I don't know if I can survive another heartbreak."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Forget this ever happened." Y/N got ready to walk out the door until it was the boy's turn to grab her arm.

Carlos pulled her towards him, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a so-desired kiss filled with longing, pain, and lust.

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

His lips brushed hers, allowing him to inhale her breath and feel the warmth of her mouth, until he let his lips mash against hers in a rough, heated kiss.

She opened her mouth quickly, pushing her tongue past his teeth and meeting him in an electric and passionate battle. 

Both lay on the bed, her straddling his body like she did a million other times, her lips still glued to the ones she used to call home.

They both pull away, panting with their gazes focused on each other almost as if they were afraid the moment would suddenly be over.

"I still love you, hermosa." Carlos confessed, letting the words slip out. "There wasn't a day that I didn't think of you, or that I didn't want your body next to mine just like this."

For one more night, Y/N gave in to her most intimate desires and allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of belonging in the arms of the man she loved again, as she removed her dress and her lips returned to where they belonged - his.

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy, legacy

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

Such was the girl's amazement when hours later she woke up in the same bed, alone with only his memory over her.

The wrinkled sheets on the right side of the mattress were the only sign that the driver had been in that room the night before. 

Not a note, a discarded piece of clothing, a stray hair.

Just crumpled linens and the marks of his love smeared across her soft skin.

Once again, Y/N was left with only her regrets and her sorrows for being so weak and so naive to think this time would be different.

That was the legacy he left every time: his touch on her remained, as did his absence.

The burgundy on my t-shirt

When you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks

So scarlet, it was maroon

Back at home, the girl went straight to her room, wanting nothing more than to get out of her dirty clothes from the night before. 

Her hands started their work of removing the dress, until she stopped in her tracks, naked in front of her bathroom mirror, when she saw the marks left by Carlos all over her for the first time.

She swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, as she stepped into the shower.

The hot water ran through her hair, over her shoulders, and down her back, until loneliness overcame her and her eyes wept and wept away all the hurt she felt.

How could I have been stupid enough to fall again, she wondered.

After a few minutes of crying and showering, Y/N left the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, and went to her dresser in search of an old t-shirt to wear.

Among the dozens of her neutral shirts, one stood out. It was scarlet, and it was his.

Without thinking twice, she grabbed the t-shirt and draped it over her body, ready to give in to the sadness. Her arms hugged her own torso, seeking physical comfort in a place where she was the only person left.

Or so she thought until she heard the familiar doorbell ring later that night.

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

The only light on the dark street that night was the street light that lit up the star-crossed lovers ever so slightly.

There he was, standing outside of the door of her maroon building, red roses in hand this time, face pleading for forgiveness. 

Although their lives might not have fit together, they were just two broken souls who had found solace in each other's hearts, unwilling to give up on the greatest love they had ever known.

And just like that, pulled back into their vicious cycle, all she had consuming her mind was him all over again.

"Hey, corazón."

It was maroon

It was maroon

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[dellalyra]

Figure You Out 𓇊 Choso Kamo x Reader

Band AU!Choso 𓇊 friends to lovers 𓇊 7k

CW: smut, lots of it, filthy, swearing, fluff, p-in-v sex, fem reader, pining, mentions of alcohol, oral f!receiving, creampie, possessive choso, acc really sweet

A/N: My first AU! Also my first Choso writing! Based off and song included is Figure You Out by Vóila - I don’t own the song or anything I just love it and it gave me brainrot for this. Tonssss of requests coming up for family formations so stay tuned and also always if ur under 18 go away

When he met you, aged 5 – you were a ball of sunshine. A radiant angel that oozed love and warmth from every pore. The moment you sat beside him in the schoolyard, both too shy to join the other groups playing on your first day and offered him an animal cracker with nothing but a shy smile – he thinks it was then.

He’s pretty sure, because he can’t think of a moment since then that he hasn’t been hopelessly in love with you. You stayed glued to each other for the next 15 years, you practically moved in when his grandpa died – leaving him to care for a 10-year-old Yuuji alone – hell, you’d helped him forge the guardianship documents since he was only 15 himself.

Every teenage romance, every test, every class, your first kiss with the guy from your history class, his first kiss with the girl from his music class - you’d dealt with everything side by side.

It wasn’t your typical unreciprocated love though, not like he thought.

You pined for him equally. Every girl that passed his way, every hardship with raising Yuuji, every empty gig - you’d been there. Hell, you’d sat beside him as he got the tattoo on the bridge of his nose and applied ointment every day after to help the healing.

You remember being terrified on your first day of school. All of the other kids seemed bigger, louder, more frightening. Then you saw a boy sitting on the bench, legs hanging off with his dark, shaggy hair falling over his face. You decided to listen to your mom,

“I know it’s hard baby, but even if you can make one friend today - you’re doing amazing.”

So, you chose him.

You sat beside him quietly, thinking of what you’d want as an offer of friendship – something yummy.

So, you popped open your transformers lunchbox and silently tapped him on the shoulder, smiling – and offered him an animal cracker.

He had looked up at you, and your 5-year-old mind had never seen eyes so dark – eyes which soon crinkled in a gentle smile and a soft little ‘thank you.’

You think it was then.

That must have been the moment, because a day hasn’t passed since that you haven’t been in love with him.

If an omniscient outsider had been looking in on you both, they’d have seen identical trains of thought. Around 13, all of ‘those’ thoughts began. Yours always seemed to encompass dark eyes and dark hair and gentle hands. His always seemed to feature a sunshine smile, H/C glinting in the lamplight of his room and your soft, rose scented skin.

Not that either of you would say anything.

Things only got worse from there.

When you were about 14, you both realised you were in love with the other. But how could you ruin 9 years of friendship for something as silly as love?

At 16, you both realised that love wasn’t silly. Not when you worked in tandem to get you, him and Yuuji ready for school. Not when he smoked his first joint and got the munchies but only for your cookies. Not when he held back your hair when you got drunk and vomited for the first time. But how could you ruin a friendship like that, at the risk of losing the other.

So, nobody said anything.

Everyone knew.

Yuuji even knew, and he’s only 15 now.

At 18, after graduation, Choso’s big brain got him an internship at a lab, flexible hours so he could still care for his brother but decent pay. You took over your family's florist, the only think you ever wanted to do. Around that time, Choso’s true passion took flight too. His band, Death Paintings, began to book some small local shows. His songs, along with his band mates Eso and Chez – had started to try write some songs too, along with the alt rock covers the usually played.

Then, at 19 – you met him. Geto Suguru. Tall, dark and handsome (not that you had a type). You liked him, he liked you – you started dating. He was charming, smooth as fuck, fun to be around and smart.

Choso didn’t mind Geto a huge amount. He wasn’t a terrible guy, didn’t get pissy about your best friend being a guy like other guys had (probably because he and his best friend, Gojo, had a preternatural kind of ‘friendship’). He was pretty chill, nice to you. You didn’t laugh as much around him, but that was okay, he’d fill in the gaps. He hadn’t stayed completely celibate either, he’d dated a few people – one girl Yuki who was really cool and you ended up staying in contact with, but she left to travel the world with a parting message for Choso to tell you he loved you – fuck, she’d kick his ass if she knew he was still being a wuss. He’d hooked up with some people after some gigs too, frequently on nights you went home with a date too.

He remembers you rang him one night, saying Geto was taking you away for the weekend – he said that was awesome, and questioned why you felt panicked.

“Yeah, it’s great. But Cho, the Airbnb - it’s…” You flustered down the line.

“It’s what?” He replied, smirking at the sounds of you fighting to shut your suitcase in the background.

“It’s on the goddamn 50th floor of a skyscraper with panoramic views of the goddamn fucking city.” You huffed.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit!”

“Ya tell him?” He asked, flicking the pencil across the desk from where he’d been hitting down lyric ideas.

“And say what? ‘Oh, hello Geto thank you for this surprise trip to a ridiculously expensive penthouse for the weekend – sadly, you gotta shove your plans in the fucking trash because I’m terrified of heights, bye!’”

“Maybe word it differently, but yeah, that’s the gist.”

I’d never forget shit like that, he thinks.

Stop being a pick-me, Jesus Christ Choso. He also thinks.

“Right, we’ll – I gotta go psych myself up to spend 2 days sleeping in a collapse waiting to happen. Love ya, Cho.”

I love you too.

Fuck, he should just say it. Maybe it wouldn’t go as bad as he thinks.

But he never does. He just stays quiet. He won’t lose you, he’ll take you however he can have you in his life.

He brought you on a date one weekend too – you told him about it over ramen on Sunday night, a picnic in a cute park where you and Choso had tried tandem biking when you were younger – but Geto had driven you there in his Benz. Flashing wealth wouldn’t steal a heart like yours. He remembers the glow on your face as you both failed miserable at the biking for about an hour until you both got the hang of it – he swears your giggles and peals of laughter that day has to be the sound you hear when you get to heaven.

He introduced you to some new people, who you were going for drinks with one Friday night too – you didn’t really want to go, but Geto seemed to really want you to meet them. They were successful people, he thought you could get contacts to expand your floristry business to an international level by hanging around them. You told Choso you weren’t going to do that over your dead body, your shop was yours. It was quiet, it was peaceful, it was a family business. It did pretty well financially, making enough to make you pretty comfortable for a girl in her early twenties – but you worked hard, and you were damn good at your job.

“Then why are you going?” He shrugged as you watched him pluck at the strings of his guitar aimlessly.

“Geto seems excited. Gotta hang out with your man’s friends, right?”

His friends love you. They plead with him daily to confess to you. They actually already have a scrapbook on how they want to split best man duties at the wedding.

He was unloading a delivery of flowers one day into your shop with you, he had a free day and offered to help you out with some stuff around the place. You immediately jumped at the chance to spend time with him, seeing him – your favourite person – there, in your favourite place. The boy you loved helping you run the life you loved – shit, you thought, I’m dating Suguru, I can’t say shit like that anymore. You have to get over him. It was hot that day, your breezy light blue sundress even feeling too hot, so Choso was boiling in his black cargo pants and black T-shirt and was completely unaided by the weight of the buckets of fresh cut flowers he was carting back and forth. He paused for a moment in the back room of your store as you began to organise the delivery. Chugging his water, you noticed a bead of condensation running down the slope of his throat.

I wanna lick it off. Shut the fuck up, inner Y/N.

It was like having an angel and a devil on your shoulders.

But Choso only made it worse.

The heat was obviously too much in his all black ensemble – and so he could continue comfortably, he pulled his black T-shirt over his head by the back of the neck and left it on the counter.

Thank heavens to anyone who was listening – that he didn’t spare a glance at you.

You eyes widened and jaw fell as the sight before you. Muscled, thick arms and broad shoulders – scattered with tattoos, including the one on his bicep of a small daisy that you drew – fell into a chiselled chest, and abs that would make Adonis weep for their beauty. The sweat made his pale skin glisten and all you wanted in that moment was to feel his solid planes up against your skin – feel his heat seeping into you, into every single crevice. Your eyes flicked up, and the action of removing his shirt had caused some of the hair from his twin buns atop his head to fall loose – they fell and framed his face, drawing focus to the eyes you fell in love with. You didn’t really need the help today, you just needed to see him. To be near him, to hear his voice and see his smile. He’s so perfect, you think, you’d never met someone with a heart as big as Choso.

You heard a cough behind you, and you spun around.

“Oh my god! Suguru! I thought you were working today!” You hoped he didn’t notice your ogling, as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Suguru really was gorgeous, like model beautiful. You’re lucky to have him, you repeat to yourself, and it’s true but he’s not - don’t finish that thought.

“Hi baby, I am. I’m just on my lunch break but I had a surprise for you I wanted to drop off.” He says as he kisses your cheek and hands you an envelope, then notices Choso.

“Hey Choso, how you doing, man? How was your show last weekend?” He asks him.

Stop being such a good guy and let me hate you.

“Hey man, yeah it was a good turnout – got a couple more coming up soon so come along if you get a chance.”

Why am I inviting him? Shut up, Choso.

Their conversation is interrupted by your gasp.

“Suguru! Wow! This, these must have been really hard to get, thank you so much – I can’t wait to go with you.” You smile, but Choso can see it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s no problem, you said you like him when I was playing him in the car a while back, so I got us front row.” He said, and Choso quietly excused himself, not before sneaking a peak at the concert tickets in your hand.

Your favourite artist was playing next month one city over, how did he not get you tickets for that instead? I’m on six waiting lists for them.

When he gets home that night - he’s pent up. He’s not angry, or frustrated. He’s not sad or resigned. Maybe he is, maybe he’s all of those things. He’s just feeling so fucking much right now that after saying goodnight to his brother and his boyfriend, Megumi he makes his wait into his makeshift studio in the back of the house.

The second he sits down, and pen meets paper, the words fall out like a fucking tsunami. After the words, come the notes. After the notes, comes the riff and it snowballs. Soon enough, he’s got a whole fucking song on his hands.

The next day, he rings Eso and Chez and they come running over to listen to what he’s come up with.

When he plays it for them, jaws fall slack.

“Holy fuck bro.”

“Fuck – I’m gonna try fall in love with my best friend if I get to be able to write shit that good.” Chez muses.

“Please fucking don’t, that’s me. I see enough of you as it is.” Eso cringes.

That afternoon and evening and well into the night, the drums and bass are added and it’s perfect.

“We’re playing this next weekend at The Tech, no questions.” Eso announces.

Choso clenches his jaw, this song – you can’t hear it. It would ruin everything, this perfect balance he’s so carefully curated.

But they were right, his soul went into that song and it’s fucking amazing.

“Fine. But absolutely – Y/N cannot know. Nobody tells her about the gig, she can’t come and she sure as shit can’t hear this song.”

Yuuji heard all this, because he’s eavesdropping. Megumi smacks him across the head, but he doesn’t listen. He knows what he has to do, and he whips out his phone.

Yuuji: Heyyyyyyyyy so IDEA Cho is playin a gig next weekend and he’s all shy about it n shit bc he’s dumb and won’t tell anyone but u should totally not say anything and surprise him!!! He won’t tell u abt it but it wld be a fun surprise for him!!!! Besties and all that wooohoooo

Your phone pinged with a message, and you smiled at the message. Choso had always been bashful about his talents, and you usually had to hound him to get the details of his gigs – but Yuuji was your little spy, and surprising him was a great idea, so after replying in the affirmative, you set your phone back down and continued dinner with Suguru.

The week came and went, and Saturday soon arrived. The gig was at 10pm, so at 6pm when your doorbell rang you were surprised.

Behind the door, stood Geto. His pretty face seemed uneasy in place of its usual languid smirk.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Oh, shit he did see; he saw me basically salivating over choso in the store last week. Gigs up.

“Eh, sure. This sounds ominous.” You awkwardly giggle as he walks in, hands in his pockets and sits at your kitchen island.

There’s silence for a minute, as you pour some coffee.

“Neither of us are being honest. With ourselves, or each other.” He shrugs, a small smile on his face.

You cock your head, a motion for him to continue.

“You’re in love with Choso.” He sighs, but still smiles.

You freeze. You were right, gigs up. You lean on the counter and look at the ceiling. There was no point in acting anymore, and you didn’t think you had the energy to pretend otherwise anymore.

“I’m sorry Suguru.” Your tears well up now, guilt overtaking you.

“Don’t be, I’m not.” He shrugs, sipping the coffee.

“What?” Your head whips to him.

“You’re in love with Choso, I’m in love with Satoru.” He smiles.

You’re actually… not shocked. It makes sense. Everything does. It all makes sense.

There’s a beat of silence before you catch each other's gaze, and you both begin to softly laugh.

“We’re fucking idiots, Suguru.” You say, running to wrap him in a hug.

“You’re an idiot. It’s just you now. Satoru told me he loved me last night, I told him I loved him too, have done since high school. You’re probably gonna hate me but – it was the best night of my life.” His lazy smirk has returned.

Despite just hearing you were technically just cheated on – you feel elated.

“Suguru, truly – I am so happy for you. You’re a good man – and I’m – I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the get-go. Truth is I’ve always been in love with Choso and, I’ve been trying to get over him for years.” The tears are back again. You try to will them away, but Suguru swipes them off your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“I know.”

“You’re still going to his gig tonight, right?” He asks.

You nod.

“Go get ready. I gotta go, but – I am sorry too. For how things worked out, but I’m glad I met you. Tell him tonight, Y/N. I think you’ll be surprised.” Suguru says, waltzing toward the door with that easy confidence that only he has.

“I’m sorry too, Suguru. I’m happy for you, really.” You shrug, smiling.

He opens the door and just before he leaves, he turns.

“Wear that baby blue set under your outfit - it’s fucking sexy as hell.” He says, winking at you as he closes the door and your jaw drops.

You’re left alone and as you stand there; you break into laughter.

That might have been the weirdest break up in history.

But – maybe, this was your sign.

If things could work out for Satoru and Suguru – maybe you could get your happy ending too.

By 10.15pm, you were walking in the door of the bar. The place was packed like a tin of sardines, and the first thing you heard was the Smokey tones of Choso’s voice mingled in with cheers and drunken singing from the audience, people were clamouring to the front to get a better view and place to enjoy the gig. The place must have been completely sold out, by the looks of things. You went to the bar and ordered a Gin and Tonic and sang along under your breath to the songs you’ve heard thousands of times as you sat in on practice sessions as the guy's test audience.

After about 15 minutes, you found a nice spot to lean against a pillar far enough away from the stage that you won’t be seen. You just want to enjoy the view for a while, he looks so beautiful under the lights. Signature buns gleaming with sweat under the lights and guitar hanging loosely off of his shoulder, another all-black outfit – tight black long-sleeved shirt with rips around the collar and black cargo’s again – your favourite on him. They make his ass look damn good.

You could hear murmurs in the audience as people passed, everything ranging from “Damn, I’d climb that front man like a tree,” to “the things I’d let their lead singer do to me would have me sent to hell,” and it make your skin crawl. Not that you disagreed, actually the opposite. You never used to feel such jealousy, hell you had set him up with some people but sometimes it reared its ugly head and tonight it was raging – pulsing through your veins like it was making its home there. You shake your head, looking back up at him. He looks so at home, so peaceful on the stage – that usual tension and awkwardness in his shoulders are gone when he’s on stage. You think happy Choso is the most beautiful Choso.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Choso’s words.

“Um – next songs a new one.” He murmurs into the mic and is met with cheers and applause.

The beat starts up, and you don’t recognise it. You always heard the songs first, before the other band members sometimes. You let yourself relax; he’s probably just forgotten. You take a swig of your drink.

I heard he got you a penthouse

on the westside when will he learn

That you're afraid of heights?

Choso’s voice croons through the room and you blink – wait, like that weekend Geto took you on? Did he take inspiration from your situation? That’s cool!

I heard he got you a new Benz

with the white wheels when will he learn

That you like to tandem bike?

Like the picnic weekend? He really had! That’s cool that your slightly mismatched relationship had been fodder for this song. No wonder he hadn’t told you, he was probably worried you’d be mad.

Mm mmh and I hate that

Wait, what?

His voice begins to swell, and the passion in his voice is something you’ve never heard in his covers of other artists, or in songs written by the other boys. This was new, the pain, the raw emotion seeping into his chords was so powerful it felt like the energy of the room changed completely.

And then, you heard the lyrics.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold

Figure you out (mm mmh)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

To figure you out

Your heart stops, you drop the glass you’re holding but the sound is swallowed by the rasping delight of Choso’s voice booming through the speakers as he holds the mic and you stare at his face, eyes closed, and you could swear you can see his very soul in his body at that moment.

Because it hits you,

This song.

You weren’t just some inspirations.

You were the song.

He wrote it.

About you. For you.

He loved you.

Holy shit.

I heard he got you some new friends

with some big dreams when will he learn

That you already got your own? (Mm mmh)

Oh, I heard he got you the front row

at the rap show when will he learn

That you like The Rolling Stones?

You began to walk forward, still near the back of the crowd but close enough now that you’re within range for him to see you.

The chorus finishes, and he opens his eyes and his heart nearly drops from his body and his blood runs icey. You were there, standing, slack jawed and staring him in the eyes. You’ve heard the fucking song and you fucking know. It’s not hard to figure out when you hear it. How did you know? How were you here? He locks eyes with you, and sees tears glinting even from this distance but then – the corners of your lips, they quirk up into a smile. Wide, and so beautiful his breath almost catches. Your hands fly up to your mouth in surprise. He hopes to whatever power there is that’s a good reaction, because fuck, this is make it or break it. This could be 15 years of friendship and the love of his life gone.

Fuck it, damage is done now.

Might as well make it a good show.

And I've been thinking

Of all the little things

That you've been missing

When will you learn?

He wants you to understand, he needs you to feel what he’s telling you in this song. So, he pulls every fibre of himself, every ounce of love he’s ever had for you and spills it onto his guitar and down the mic.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold

Figure you out (mm mmh)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

to figure you out.

His eyes never leave yours, and your hand drops from your mouth and he almost missed the moment of your mouth.

Four tiny words. He can’t even hear them over his own voice and music, or the cacophonous crowd.

But he sees them.

You see them on your lips.

I love you too.

He can’t help it. The smile takes over his body as he holds one of his hands in a fist to his heart as he stares at you through the crowd. Eso and Chez have seen what’s going on now too, and the drums and bass get some extra oomph poured into them at the sight.

I could treat you so much better

I've known you forever figured you out

You throw your hands up into the air, he saw you. He heard you; he knows. He knows you love him.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you too.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold, yeah

Figure you out (Figure you out, yeah)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

To figure you out

With a final cheer, the song comes to a close and without even a goodbye to the crowd, Choso’s guitar is left abandoned on the stage as he pushes through the room toward you and then you feel large, warm, calloused and oh so sweaty hands grip your waist and your feet leave the ground as you notice you’ve been hauled by Choso onto his shoulder and he’s walking toward the backstage area with you.

Privacy.

How very Choso.

The sound dies down but you can’t even find your footing when your feet touch the ground because before you even open your eyes, you’re pinned against a wall – and you’re suddenly engulfed in the smell of sweat, smoke and sandalwood cologne. Hands are on your cheeks and then lips are on yours and this might be heaven. You meet Choso’s lips with equal passion and ferocity – years of longing and desire and love spilling into a kiss because words just won’t be enough right now, and he just has to taste you.

He tastes like rum and coke, his favourite drink to have before a show and with a hint of spearmint gum and his lips just slot so perfectly against yours you think that they were puzzle pieces destined to fit like this forever. One hand finds its way into your hair, and the other to your waist to pull you flush against his chest and yours find purchase in his raven hair, wild from the show. You vaguely hear a door open and close – as if someone came in then very quickly left, but you couldn’t care less. Not when right now Choso was everywhere. His hands clutched you tight against him and you’ve never felt more on fire than you did in that moment.

The need for oxygen soon overtakes your need for Choso and you pull your lips away. You rest your forehead against his, both pairs of eyes still closed, but you can see the small smile on his flushed face.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers.

“Every word.”

“Me too.”

“I’d hope so – you just sang a whole song about it.” You laugh and he follows suit.

He kisses you softly, almost chaste.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids, since you gave me an animal cracker to buy my friendship.” He says, and you feel his lips move as he speaks.

“I’ve love you too Cho – since you let me buy your friendship with an animal cracker.”

You can feel him smiling into the kiss now, it grows messy – all teeth and giggles and shaking hands.

He stills.

And pulls away.

“Oh my god – we can’t, you’ve a boyfriend. What about Geto?” His eyes look panicked.

“In love with Satoru. We broke up earlier – he knew I was in love with you, told me to come and get my man.” You lean into him, cupping his cheeks so he looks straight down at you and his gaze softens.

“I’m all yours, Cho. I always have been.”

And that’s the final straw. You hear a sound you never thought the man capable of making as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in by your hip and fucking growls into your ear. You shiver.

“We’re leaving.” He says, grasping your hand and dragging you out the back door. Before you can think he’s lifted you onto the back of his motorcycle and plopped a helmet on your head, then he’s swinging a leg over and you wrap your arms around his stomach – as he revs the engine to life and takes off. You know he’s going back to your place – but you can’t focus when you can see his thick thighs flexing as he straddles the motorcycle and the purring of the engine does little to quell the heat between your thighs. As he parks up, he lifts you off the bike and once again throws you over his shoulder as you squeak in delight – he was so much larger than you, and the feeling of being manhandled like this was making you weak in the knees.

He takes your keys from your purse and opens the door, slamming it shut behind him and not even pausing as he strides straight for your room.

You’re unceremoniously tossed onto the bed and you love it and you squeeze your thighs together in the hopes of some form of friction where you need it most. He stands at the edge of your mattress and rips his shirt over his head before he falls down on top of you. Arms caging around your head and one thigh slotted between yours, the kiss that follows is all consuming. Devouring. You place your hands through his hair, pulling his silky raven hair from its buns and you tug slightly, and he bucks his hips into yours with a groan.

“Angel – please. Later, tomorrow, whenever you want - I’ll make love to you, properly. Show you how much I love you but right now, I gotta fuck you. I need’ta feel you, alright?” He growls into your ear, restraint quavering.

His words send a flush of wetness into your already ruined panties. That’s what you want, no - that’s what you need.

“Cho – look at me.”

And he does, the fire in his eyes is scorching and you stare right into it.

“I want you to fucking ruin me. Please, Cho.” You whine, and he can’t take it anymore.

Your shirt is being tugged over your head, and you can see him being so gentle - he’s trying to be, as least. You reach around and unclip your bra, flinging it across the room as he shimmy’s your jeans and panties down your legs. Had had worn the baby blue lingerie set – not that it mattered how in a heap on your bedroom floor.

Your senses clicked back into place and you were brought back down to reality. You were bare, naked as the day you were born, laying on your bed and about to have sex with Choso. Your Choso. Your best friend, your other half. The man you have always sworn you were destined for. You can’t help the tears that well up as you look at him. The light from your lamp behind him illuminated him in the most beautiful light and your breath hitches with a sob which startles him.

“Fuck, angel - what’s going on? Am I taking it too fast? We can stop – I don’t expect anything. Just talk to me.” He sits beside you now and you don’t even let him finish his sentence.

“I’m just happy, Choso. I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.” You say as you flip you both around so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Fuck angel, you’ve no idea. Always had me so fucking hard from doing nothing, have me feeling like a virgin all over again.” He says as you unbuckle his trousers and start pulling them down his thighs, as he finishes the job for you.

He pauses for a moment, his turn for a reality check.

His eyes scan your naked figure, no art could do this justice. No dream of what you looked like under your clothes, no wet dream could come close.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. How are you even real?” He says, gripping your hips and sitting up to capture your lips once more.

“You’re one to talk.” You tease as you gasp, feeling his desire clearer now with just his black boxers between you.

All softness was gone now.

He laid you on your back, laid a big hand over your lower stomach to keep you still and spread your thighs with his other.

“Gotta fuckin taste you. God, such a pretty pussy. Knew you’d be just as perfect down here.” He’s not even talking to you now, just rambling.

And he wastes no time in getting what he wants, face diving into your slickness and tongue exploring your folds like a man parched. The feeling of his wet mouth on your most sensitive parts makes you whine and gasp as he laps at you like an ice cream cone – once he wraps his pretty pink lips around your little Pearl of nerves you know you’re done for. You were already so worked up, you know you won’t last long. You didn’t even realise he’d slid a finger inside until he thrust in a second and curled them up into your squishy spot inside making you gasp out a stuttered version of his name and he groans into you – the sound of his name on your lips being said with such pleasure could almost make him cum on the spot, and he realises she’s grinding his hips into the mattress like a horny teenager. He’s ready for use his trump card now, he knows your close – can feel you clenching your thighs around his head. He stops suckling on your clip and you protest the lack of stimulation until you feel it – oh my god, how had you forgotten? The small, solid, metal nub laving against your clit was his fucking tongue piercing and within seconds, he had you gushing all over his face and fingers and moaning out like you never have before – vision completely white as you body shakes and waves of pleasure control your movements. He lets you ride out your high on his face before lifts away, reaching for his pants pocket before a tiny shaking hand is stopping him.

“Cho - I’m clean, and I’ve a coil, and I know you’re clean too. You don’t gotta wear one.” Your lashes flutter at him as his heart stutters.

“Angel, are you asking me to fuck you raw?” He asks, incredulous as your wide eyes blink innocently as if you don’t know what you’re doing, and you nod up at him.

He lifts his head to look at the ceiling to try and regulate his breathing, so he doesn’t just finish then and there. He must have done something really good in another life.

Your eyes scour his body, and you land on the bulge in his boxers, it looks big, heavy straining against the fabric, and you can see the wet patch where his tip has been leaking arousal this whole time. You wrap your fingers into the waistband and pull them down to free him. His pretty pick cock slaps up against his abs, spreading shiny pre across the sweaty skin there and oh he’s big. You always thought he would be, from outlines you’ve seen in swimming trunks and sweatpants. He’s perfect, 7.5 inches or so – and girthy, so deliciously girthy that you know the stretch will send you to heaven. You wanna taste him, but you need him inside you like, yesterday.

He hissed when you grip his length and spit into your hand to allow you to pump him a few times before you lay back and open your legs, inviting him into you. In the blink of an eye, your hand darts into your bedside drawer and a bottle of lube appears, no matter how prepped and wet you are you know you’ll need it to take him.

He takes it from you and exhales a breath as he squeezes some onto his cock and spreads it around and the sight is glorious. You always had a thing for guys jacking off, and seeing Choso palm and tug at his own dick was peak dream-fuel.

He spreads your folds with deft, nimble guitarists fingers and you hook your ankles around his back as he begins to push in and you both hiss at the feeling, the first taste of your union.

“You good, angel?” He asks, always such a sweet boy.

You bite your lip and nod at him, clutching at his back to pull him deeper and he obliges by filling you the rest of the way with one smooth thrust and when he bottoms out a string of profanities from both of you fills the air of the room. You lust addled brains pause for a second.

���I love you, Cho.”

“I love you too, angel. Please, be mine?”

“I’ve always been yours. All yours Cho. Make me yours, claim me.” You whimper and with that he pulls out only to slam his hips back into yours and he begins to barrel his hips into yours with the speed and force of a jackhammer and your breath is taken from your body.

“You want me to claim you? Fuck, such a perfect cunt. Made for me, you were made for me. I’m all yours, forever – angel. Jesus, squeezing me so tight. Cock’s all yours, angel. I love you.” He groans as he watches himself thrusting into your wetness.

He hooks your ankles over his shoulders and you can see the bulge in your tummy from how deep he is and you wordlessly grab his hand and press it to your tummy so he can feel himself in you. He’s possessive, that much is clear – so you know it’ll drive him wild.

He actually fucking whimpers and you’ve never heard anything hotter and you attach your lips to his neck and suck a dark bruise onto the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he bites down on your throat leaving clear indication of where he’d been. You feel your peak approaching fast and he does too, he pulls down to watch your face as you cum.

“Cum for me pretty, I’m so close – where can I – fuck, where can I cum?” He whimpers into your skin.

“Inside Cho. Please.” You reply, sounding so fucked out that his hips grow sloppy and he twitches into your magic spot and you clench around him, and the fluttering feeling of your tight walls as you cum around his cock sends him over the cliff with the most powerful orgasm of his life.

He thrusts a few more times, savouring the feeling of your heat. As he pulls out, his eyes are drawn to the sight of your mixed spends leaking from your clenching hole and he swears he’d immediately hard again.

You grab his shoulders and pull him beside you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re incredible.” You whisper.

“No more than you, angel.” He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as you giggle.

He relaxes and clutches you into him.

“So, ehm – are we like, yaknow – do you wanna… maybe?” His eyes dart around the room and you struggle to connect the lustful, dominant, possessive man who’s just fucked you into your mattress with the shy, kind boy trying to talk to you now.

“Yes Cho. We’re dating. I’m your girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” You giggle, swinging your legs from the bed and waltzing to the en suite door.

“That’s the best sentence I ever heard.” He says, with a hazy, fucked out smile.

You whisper sweet nothings into the night as you clean up together, and find time for another round before you finally drift off in each others arms, limbs entwined. No more separate beds at sleepovers, just wrapped up in each other.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

A 15 year old boy, curled up watching a film with his boyfriend jumped when his phone buzzed.

Big Bro: I know it was u little shit that told her abt the gig. She heard the song.

Yuuji: idk what ur talking about 😇😇😇😇😇

Big bro: idiot. But I’m not coming home tonight - I’m staying at hers. So, thank you – even if ur a menace to society. Megumi can stay, u can stay w ur bf bc I’m stayin w my gf.

And the boyfriend in question jumps out of his skin when Yuuji jumps up cheering.

“They got together! ‘Gumi! Look, Y/N’s his girlfriend! YES!” Yuuji is jumping in the air like he just won the lottery.

Megumi rolls his eyes, but mutters.

“Fucking finally.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso smut #choso kamo #choso imagine #choso au #band au #jjk smut

[elsplaything]

touch me\ellie williams

toxic!ellie x fem!reader

ellie cheated on u & this is the breakup sex angst, smut, oral (r!recieving), strap usage (r!recieving), crying (both r! and ellie), ANGST!!!!!!! cheating, etcetc a/n: this is my first fanfic so feeling a lil nervous... hope you enjoy :) (a little death - the neighbourhood inspired this)

you and ellie had been broken up for almost two months. you were the one to do it, as you caught ellie with a girl at a party, whom she said to ‘not to worry about.' her fingers were down that girls throat on that couch and you saw it with your own eyes. she was a fucking liar.

ellie had always been popular with the girls on campus, but you never worried about it because you were hers, as she would say, and she made you believe you were enough. boy was she wrong.

she begged and begged for days after you broke up, so much that eventually you had to block her number. "i messed up so badly baby, please, i cant go on without you." she was helpless, couldn't eat or sleep after you left her. she was a complete mess, dina told you that she couldn't even get out of her bed to shower for two straight weeks. all of her soaps smelled like you, her bedsheets did too, that's why she couldn't leave them.

you loved ellie more than anyone ever could. she was your entire world.. until she wasnt.

all of the trust you had for that woman was shattered.

you jolted out of your thoughts as your apartment door was being slammed on. it was two a.m., you were sitting in one of ellie's old band tees on your bed, just about to fall asleep...

bang bang bang

"fuck.." you muttered as you got up quietly, grabbing your lamp from the side table as a weapon. you had no idea who could be psychotically banging on your door at this hour..

you quickly turned the knob, opening the door and about to swing on the unsuspecting mass murder, but

you're met with ellie. a very disheveled ellie; hair cut in a very messy shag, her sweatshirt hanging off her skinny frame, sweat glistening on her forehead. she was panting like a dog, maybe because she ran all the way here…

"ellie- what the fuck are you doing?!" you dropped the lamp at your surprise, growing angry at her for being here when you specifically told her you never wanted to see her again.

"i-i'm sorry, fuck. can i come in?" her voice was raspy and low, and you noticed how her eyes were sunken in and the color was drained from her face. she looked awful.

against your better judgement, you let her in and sat her down on your couch.

you stood in front of her, making her look up to you. she looked at you with a certain yearning that you've never seen from her before.

your eyebrows quirked up, waiting for ellie to tell you why she was here.

"i cant do this anymore." she said bluntly, eyebrows furrowing as she chewed on her bottom lip as she always did when she was nervous. "i cant live like this, knowing you hate me because of what i did. it's my fault, i know, and i never should've let that girl climb on top of me like that..." she looked down at her hands which were fiddling on her lap.

she took a deep breath, "i just needed to look at you one more time. to hear you one more time…”

your heart pained as you saw your ellie, broken in front of you. she was never like this, always cracking jokes and getting all cheeky around you. she would never show this side to you, even when you asked how she really felt. this felt so surreal, she was actually being honest for once.

tears brimmed her eyes once she finally looked back up to your standing form. "one last time. then i'll leave you alone, i promise."

you brought your hand up to cup her cheek, a tear rolled down her freckled skin as she shut her eyes and leaned into your touch.

"touch me," she whispered, "please."

you knew this would be the last time with ellie. you didn't seem to have enough time, it felt, as you slammed your lips onto hers harshly while pulling her up off the couch. she moaned into your mouth as her hands clung to your hips, pushing you back into your bedroom. she knew your apartment like the back of her hand.

your hands strung into her short hair, pulling at her roots as she pushed you against the wall.

you pulled at her sweatshirt, making her pull her head back and ask "are you sure?" breathlessly. her eyebrows furrowed with worry as she didnt want to do anything for you to regret. you already regretted so much with her..

you nodded and kissed her again, not wanting to think about anything except her lips and the ache between your legs.

she began to take your her shirt off, sighing at your body underneath. god, she loved every curve of your stomach, every mark on your skin. she had your entire body memorized, every soft spot and every tick.

ellie bent and started to kiss down your stomach, not stopping until she got to your inner thighs. she kissed your clothed cunt, earning a whimper from you from above. her favorite fucking sound.

her fingers slowly dragged your panties down to the floor, she kissed all the way back up in an attempt to savor the moment, which was going by way too fast for her liking.

"els.. please-" you whined as you grew impatient, wanting her to satisfy you as she was the only one who knew how.

"right here, baby, im right here." she said, moving her mouth onto your ache. her tongue swirled throughout your folds, finally making its way to your clit. she sucked harshly on the bud, making your hands move to her hair to pull harshly. you knew it always turned her on when you pulled her hair-- she moaned into your pussy at the action.

her entire body was tingling. she needed to be inside you, to feel your inner walls that she loved so much.

your moans grew louder as she worked her tongue into you, and soon enough you both moved to the bed with her on top of you. "god, you're so fucking pretty." she said while looking down at your pretty flushed face.

her hands roamed your body, never getting enough. your eyes brimmed with tears as you recalled your first time with her, she was so nervous. she kept asking 'is this okay?' 'can i touch you here?' 'am i going too hard?'

it was hard to keep your composure as the love of your life was no longer yours.

ellie kissed away your tears as she fucked into you, whispering her sweet nothings like she always did. your face was buried in the crook of her neck as her strap thrusted deep inside; she hit your soft spot with every single thrust every. single. time.

your orgasm was creeping up, and she knew. "not yet baby-- need you to hold on just a little longer." she kissed your head and fucked harder, making you scream out into her shoulder.

"let me see you." she breathed out. you lifted your head from her shoulder, looking up at her with your glassy, red eyes. your lips were red and swollen from the crying, making them perfectly kissable to her. you really were so fucking pretty, even in your fucked-out-crying state. you always looked beautiful under her, she thought.

your eyes clamped shut and your mouth fell open, indicating your release. loud moans and harsh thrusting was all ellie could hear. you yelled out her name in a tone so pornographic that ellie almost came just from your voice.

"fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckellieohmygodFUCK"

"shh pretty girl. i got you." she calmed you down, stroking your head as she moved you on top of her so she could hold you fully. she was about to pull out, but you whined, "nono, stay inside. please." ellie didnt move an inch. you didnt want her to leave, didnt want to feel that emptiness from before.

her head leaned up against your headboard as she held you, just admiring your sleepy state. she too felt exhausted, for it seemed that she could only get fully rested when you were holding her. she hadnt slept comfortably in more than two months.

she held onto you tightly because she knew this wouldnt last. that, in the morning, she would be gone before you wake up. her girl, fast asleep on her chest, looking so peaceful. she watched your head rise and fall with her chest, and she's never felt more in love with you then in that moment.

god, she fucked up so bad.

#ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #x reader

[leelei1980]

Bar Room Blitz

Eddie sees a guy bothering you during one of his shows and when the loud mouth frat boy doesn’t leave his girlfriend alone, Eddie takes matters into his own hands..

Authors note-This One-Shot was inspired by this string of re-blogs that had me absolutely FERAL https://www.tumblr.com/eddiemunsons-missingnipple/738968147033538560

Wrote this this baby in the wee hours of the night in about an hour, didn’t proofread so there could be mistakes, I will go back and proof read it later..

TW: 🛑Smut Warning-Mature Content- 18+- Minors DNI🛑 Violence(fistfights,brawling) and of course a little smut.

" What part of she's my girlfriend, stay the fuck away from her, did you not comprehend? "

Eddie asks walking up to the arrogant frat boy asshole that had been harassing you all night while he was up on stage. "I told you to leave her the fuck alone."

You grab onto Eddies arm and try to pull him away but he doesn't budge. " It's not worth your breath or bloodshed baby, let's just go."

" Yeah, why don't you just go? She's not even worth it." The Frat boy laughed, giving you a dirty look.

That's when you saw Eddie snap. In all the time that you had known Eddie you had seen him brawl just a few times, usually it was because of some loudmouth drunk being disrespectful to you or one of your friends. Let's face it , the Hideout was a dive bar that drew in a rough crowd, and sometimes stupid college kids that thought they were better than everyone else. But because Eddie's band played there you knew a lot of the regulars and they never gave you a problem.

" Baby, let's just go."

" Yeah, baby, just fucking go." College Boy said crowding into Eddies personal space.

You watched a cocky smile spread across your boyfriends face. " No Sweetheart, we aren't going anywhere. You just sit back , finish your drink and keep lookin pretty. You've got nothing to worry about."

The guy looked Eddie over and smirked, talking over his shoulder to his friend. " I think this long haired freak is trying to pick a fight with me."

" I'm not the one who started this Asshole, but I can be the one that finishes it." Eddie crossed his arms in front of his chest.

The Frat boy laughed. "Oooo, I'm so scared."

Big fucking mistake. It was amazing how often people would look at Eddie and underestimate his strength. He wasn't a huge muscular guy, but he was quick and tough and knew how to fight, mostly because he had been bullied his most of his life.

Eddie laughed right back at him. " I'll tell you what Fuckhead, I'll even let you take the first swing. Go ahead." Eddie smirked and pointed to his jaw." Try to fucking hit me, I fucking dare you."

You looked at Neil, who was supposed to be tending bar but at the moment he was leaning forward ready to watch the show." Hey Neil, I think you should call Hopper."

" Good call, this could get messy."

Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the man take the first swing, but Eddie was fast and ducked then countered , punching the guy right in the fucking eye.

The bar patrons all let out an " Oof," then went back to drinking their beer.

" You son of a bitch!" Frat boy shouted, than began swinging wildly, being drunk and only being able to see out of one eye was certainly doing him no favors.

Unfortunately one of his wild punches hit Eddie in the mouth and he stumbled back a moment , wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand but then quickly regrouped. He smirked "Damn, that's it? That's all you got? No wonder you haven't got a girlfriend, you're a fucking pussy."

That's when the place erupted. Curses were spewed, fist were flying and you did your best to keep track of your boyfriend. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you watched the crowd gather around them. God you hoped Hops would show up soon. It shouldn't be too long, it was a Saturday night and there was nothing else for the people of this town to do other than come out and drink, he had to be close, waiting on people to leave then pulling them over to do field sobriety tests.

Almost on cue you heard his husky , loud voice getting closer as he made his way through the crowd of onlookers. " Alright , that's enough, break it up boys." Hawkins Chief of Police Jim Hopper barreled his way in, his large frame looming as he grabbed the two fighting men, thankfully avoiding any misplaced punches that were being thrown. "Enough!" He pulled them apart. It was then that you saw Eddie, breathing hard, still running on pure adrenaline, with a split lip and a puffy eye, but looking much better than his opponent.

You ran to him as quickly as you could and threw your arms around him, as Hopper wrestled Frat boy to the ground.

He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head."Pretty sure I won that one, wouldn't you say Dollface?" He smirked, blood smearing his teeth.

" Is it really winning if you walk away with a busted face Eds? " You grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and dabbed at the cut on his lip.

" I had to defend my Princess's honor."

" As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I wish you wouldn't fight for me. I hate seeing you get hurt."

" Oh come on Darlin, you and I both know that you think I look sexy with a fat lip."

You shook your head and smiled at him." Your incorrigible. Come on Rocky, let's go get you cleaned up and assess the damage." You would never in a million years admit it or encourage it, but watching him fight, god it made you hot.

You dragged him off to the ladies bathroom and locked the door. " God baby your a mess." You closed the lid on the toilet and motioned for him to sit down as you washed your hands and wet some paper towels. You watched as he carefully brought his shaky hand up to his lip and touched it.

" Does it hurt baby?"

" It's fine Sweetheart, I'm still fucking pumped up and not feeling anything yet."

You brushed his hair back from his face and kissed his forehead before dabbing at the cuts on his lip. " You fucking destroyed him Eds. " You carefully washed away the blood, and as you did you felt his big brown eyes watching you.

" To be fair , I fucking warned him."

" You did." You sighed." I just hate that your bloody and bruised because of me."

" I would do it again too." He took your face in his battered hands." I would fight to the fucking death for you."

Your heart skipped a beat." I know you would Baby -"

In an instant his mouth was crashing into yours, kissing you hungrily, greedily, despite his injuries. You knew what would come next. Hot, wild sex. The man fucked with the same intensity and ferocity as he fought.

His hands grabbed at you as he stood, tugging at your clothing and quickly disrobing you as he pushed you up against the wall.

" I fucking need you right fucking now." He growled in your ear as you frantically worked at his belt buckle and finally tugged down his jeans.

His cock sprung out, standing at attention, ready to be buried in your hot, wet core.

" Fuck me, Eddie, please." You whined as he pinned you against the wall and lifted you up. You wrapped yourself around him and held on for dear life as he thrusted up into you, making you gasp.

He groaned as he fucked you into the wall," So fucking good Sweetheart, this, this, is worth fighting for. "

" Your my fucking hero." You murmured into his neck causing him to pound into you even harder. " F-feels so good baby, don't stop-"

" Munson, are you in there?" There was a knock,Hopper was just outside the door.

You pursed your lips together trying to hold in the cries of pleasure that wanted to slip past your lips as he continued to fuck you at an unrelenting pace. You were so close, and at this moment you could care less if the Chief of police was standing outside the door.

" Munson? I have a few questions for you-"

" This isn't a good time Hops-" he said through gritted teeth, never stopping or slowing down one bit.

You quietly whimpered as he repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside you and you felt the spring inside you snap. A wave of pleasure washed over you and Eddie closed his mouth over yours , muffling the sounds of your cries. You felt his body shutter and you held him tightly as he finally let himself go.

" Eddie? "Hopper knocked again."  Hey kid, are you alright in there?"

Eddie smiled as he leaned his forehead to yours, "Never fucking better. I just, I just need a minute."

You held his face in your hands and kissed him again. This time he winced, his lips puffy and even more swollen from the feverish kissing. You mouthed, " Sorry." And he just smiled as you untangled your body from his and he carefully set your feet back down on the ground.

" Just uh cleaning myself up a little-". Well he wasn't lying.

" And why aren't you cleaning yourself up in the men's bathroom-"

" Because it's fucking disgusting in there Sir. I don't want to get a disease-"

" Good point."

Eddie tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt, then winked at you before opening up the door just enough to slip out. " You have questions Chief?"

" Jesus kid, your probably going to have a shiner in the morning."

" Isn't the first time, won't be the last. The guy wouldn't leave my girl alone-"

" That checks out with the story that I've heard from the other customers."

You carefully , quietly cleaned yourself up and put yourself back together as the Chief questioned Eddie in the hallway outside the door.

" Well the good news is Kid, that your not getting into any trouble- this time. Next time try to avoid confrontation if at all possible."

" Just trying to liven up your Saturday night Chief."

You listened, ear at the door for your chance to escape.

" I prefer taking a nap in the patrol car to taking a punch to the gut."

" I'll keep that in mind."

" Oh, and Munson, can you tell your girlfriend when she decides to sneak  out of  the ladies room that I need to question her about the incident? Thanks."

" Shit." You muttered and on the other side of the door Eddie laughed.

" You got it chief."

******************************

As always thank you for reading! Comments and re-blogs are everything❤️

Taglist Lovlies:

Taglist: @tlclick73 @fairymunson @micheledawn1975 @elegantkoalapaper @goth-cowgirl-03 @bmunson86 @retrorage86 @hideoutside @veemoon @emmyshortcake @oneforthemunny @erinekc @babyloutattoo89 @amberolivia666 @eddiesxangel @eddiesacousticguitar @munsons-mayhem28 @munsonsmullet @imyourdaninow @skyline4446 @maskofmirrors @blainetiberiuswinchester @bexreadstoomuch

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #fighting Eddie makes me feral #bar room brawler Eddie Munson #but I was just defending her honor