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ybklix · 13 days

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𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ lee felix

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / idol!felix / felix x fem reader / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

one shoot (masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going greate for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

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blueparadis · 10 months

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꒰ STUCK ON YOU ꒱ ⋮ JING YUAN [ CONTENT & TAGS ] — » f!reader x jing yuan, fluff, angst, undertones of smut, established relationship//word count — 1.2k// blog navigation.

Jing Yuan saunters across the chambers in his loose trousers, a serape wrapped from his back to his chest just to safeguard himself from catching a cold. The enormous windows connecting the chambers to the sundeck are still open letting the cold gusts of wind enter. The world is slowly sinking into darkness while he grows restless with each passing second. How could have this happened? This is the first time it went down this way, after his marriage with you. The general is earnest about what he does, and what he has been doing. He is one of the seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights and one of the Six Charioteers of the Xianzhou Luofu. How could he let it happen? Wait, was he really at fault for this?

The approaching footsteps reach his ears and he stares at the door of this sleeping chamber. Is it really you?

“What’re you doing here?” he grabs you by the shoulders as you walk into the room. His grip is firm enough to bruise you but you are used to it. It has been a few months since the marriage, and most of it went away in learning various rituals and traditions of post-marriage. However, when he had you all to himself he drained every bit of love from him into you that his fingertips could ever offer on the shores of your skin. But this has never happened before; you, away from home, away from him when he is about to come back from a warzone.

“I could ask you the same—-” You steadied yourself from the sudden disbalance caused by his hold on you. “What’re you doing here?” you deadpanned without flinching. Your husband cocks his face, seeing the ache in your eyes and deliberately mistaking it as a challenge or a mere tantrum. After all, you are the wife of the greatest general of all time. Not only him but everyone except the fire underneath your soul and a spark in your eyes yet here you are: caged by the man you took vows to be bound to him by life, death, and afterlife. You do not resist it. You never do. He knows that.

Jing Yuan knows how keen you are for him, how hungry your soul is for him because of all those stealing glances in between meetings, all those sneaky moments with you, taking tours in the town in the guise of common people, him buying you the prettiest flowers and the brightest gems, you kissing him under the oak tree where there was no soul to be seen; just you and him against the world—- were all those just a fever dream? Was he just your plaything and not the other way around ? Could it really be possible? What went wrong?

“What am I doing here?” He leans towards you enough to let his breath fan against your mouth but not to touch your lips with his. “I’m here for you. Can’t you tell?” He murmurs against your ears, deeply inhales your scent. He has missed you direly in times of war but he had never imagined that he would not see his wife when he comes home after winning the war. Whenever he came home, especially after wars you were there to greet him, to tend to his wounds and needs. He would search for you like a wounded predator seeking refuge but this time when he came home and you were nowhere to be found in his palace, he felt like he did not win at war. All those lives that he protects, all those lives that he just saved seemed useless. It is a wasted victory.

His grip loosens eventually. He still has not discarded the armor and changed into normal clothes. The sword is still tucked in its sheath, he could kill you if he wanted. After all, you defied so many things by coming here to your father’s home. You defied not only his dignity but also your morals, and went against all the rules and rituals that make you the wife of the general. But it was just too hard to keep up, too suffocating to breathe. You could not just take it—- the time apart that you have to spend every time he prepares for war.

No letters. No news. You can not even accompany him to the battle site. All you can do is wait and pray to the Gods while he fights. Jing Yaun will never understand how hard it is to hold on to hope when the grim reaper is banging at the door. He will never know how many sleepless nights you have spent thinking about him. He will never since he is always bestowed with your presence whenever he comes home; be it war or a mere chore. He would never fathom the agony of longing for you. But you can not possibly tell him that. He might be furious, he might get hurt, he might think it is childish and he might not take you home with him. There are so many things that could happen but you still had to risk it to see it for yourself, to let him feel what you have felt during the times of war.

“There are certain matters that need my attention. So, I had to come here. It was urgent.” You finally stated. The maids who were standing outside for your order entered the room for preparing a bath for him. It is dark outside. You can not let him go with a wounded heart and body. It is not right. Jing Yuan is standing at an arm's length from you, his glacial eyes boring at you while the maids fade into the adjacent room.

“Tell me. Tell me why. . . why are you doing this?” his voice is firm and loud. It is not of someone who is not a fertile thinker enough to put two and two together to get four.

“You know why. . .” that was barely a whisper but Jing Yuan’s heart never ached like this before. He has been through countless deaths, and he has witnessed his beloved turn into a ghost but being at arm's length from you and being unable to take away your pain is a salt to his wounds. He knows he had pained you enough. He can see it. He can see it now; when you look down with eyes so full of tears all he wishes is to make everything disappear, the maids, the rules, the customs that keep you apart from him; have you in his arms and the world aside enough not to disturb his time with you.

“Then, I shall stay here until you settle things here.” He exclaims as if he did not just break eons of traditions. After marriage, the husband never stays at his wife’s house, they never can especially someone with such a high rank as Jing Yuan but he has been earnest about what he does. He has been stubborn like a child obsessed with a particular toy since he met you and he shall not leave this place without his plaything. “I could assist you in work” he remarks as he swiftly closes the gulf between you two having you in arms crashing his lips on to yours.

The maids are still here. They could come out at any minute now but Jing Yuan does not budge. His hand slips under your robes, pulling them up and grabbing your thigh. His kiss grows hungry while you arch. Oh! How he has missed this scent. The sound of water ceases declaring that their work is done.

“more like distracting me . . .” you rasp pulling away from his fervent kiss. He rests his mouth against the column of your neck, breathing hard before draging his nose down your throat and finally freeing you from his hold. The maids inform and leave after doing the nesessities. You undress yourself while staring at your husband. He watches you as the dresses hit the floor one by one.

Jing Yuan's lips form a crescent, so full of thrill and joy. That's the spirit. That's the lioness Jing Yuan remembers falling for.

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chronically-ghosted · 3 months

Text

i'm swingin' blind and you're stunning me without any gloves

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 9K

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

summary: the night continues while the two of you dance around the inevitable. dieter's restraint is foiled by dreams of a water bed.

warnings/tags: depictions of drugs, age gap, cum eating, piv sex, not actually incest but close, concerns about getting old, reader is at least 18 (by how much is up to you), no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), hand jobs (m & f receiving), unprotected piv, squirting, the barest hint of overstimulation, oh and SMUT.

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“Do all movie stars have six empty bedrooms they don’t use?”

“They’re not always empty . . . I mean, it’s good for parties. Gives people space to get out of the chaos if they want, or if they need a place to crash. Keeps the energy, uh, flowing. Keeps the vibes good.”

He uses the joint to take the place of having to explain that the room you just passed was in fact used as a revolving door for anyone who wanted a bump only two weeks ago. The second floor stretches out into the darkness, the nasty weather outside beating against the windows. He keeps a slow steady pace, the high making his insides comfortably warm as you wander in and out of rooms, like a less frantic, totally-fuckable version of that Scooby Doo gag. He’s quite sure he’ll never be able to watch Saturday morning cartoons the same way.

So far, you’ve been content with asking rather inane questions, filler questions that he suspects you’re hoping reveal more than he’s giving. The response to the question being more important than the answer itself.

So no one lives in these rooms? No.

Do you ever use these as anything else other than bedrooms? No.

What’s outside by the pool? A gym.

A gym with full length mirrors that he used to adore snapping selfies in, in his younger cop show days, and without much prompting, would admit to masterbating to on occasion.

You’ll always be your own greatest critic so fuck ‘em.

You come out of the last bedroom, smirking faintly as though someone had told you a particularly naughty secret, humming faintly to yourself. He never much cared for giving tours but given that you walked ahead of him and gave him adequate time to ogle the backs of your thighs, he could think of worse ways to spend time with you.

“Mhm hmm,” you mutter to no one in particular. The carpet is plush, but that is the only thing you could say you really enjoyed about the style of the house. Everything else, especially the almost clinically clean air to it, makes it feel like a hotel, as if Dieter is mold growing in someone else’s house. Again, these are filed as things that helped fill out the picture of the man your uncle had become, if not the man he wanted to portray.

“So where do you sleep?”

He had been lulled into such a stupor of quiet fantasy fueled by his warm high that he didn’t even think twice when he pointed down the hall.

“God, it just keeps going, doesn’t it?”

Turns out the path to moral degradation isn’t a straight line, but a curved slope. One he finds himself on, going down round and round and round, the longer he watches your legs, the curve of your ass, the bright smile as you quite obviously tried to get a glimpse of the old Dee. But that's the thing about drugs that he finds he so actively craved – of course there is the euphoria, the chemical sensations, the wires of your brain plugged into different outlets and restarting the whole system. But he's found that’s when people tended to be their most honest, most unpolished and they weren’t afraid to be like that.

There was a lot of talk around the ego and the ID in his early acting classes. Who was your character when their ego had been pulled back like strips of skin?

But as he got older, the question he became more obsessed with was, who were the people around him when they weren’t being paid to like him?

You, of course, are different from all that. You hadn’t built up an ego quite yet. You hadn’t built up the mechanisms required to survive the world because you hadn’t needed to. Sure, you could deflect and get what you wanted by batting your eyelashes, but there are times he felt ugly in the skin he had built. Like somewhere along the way, he had tried on all these hats and now they had all attached themselves to his head and he couldn’t tear them off if he tried. His costume didn’t fit– his face wasn’t even visible any more.

And who exactly had spent the last fifteen minutes trailing after his beautiful, carefree niece, a single breath away from getting so hard it hurt, in this massively empty mansion? What version of himself wants to snake a hand into those shorts and effectively ruin you for anyone else – wanted to grip you so hard there’d be bruises and tears in your eyes when you came?

Which one of them is he willing to show you?

All of them. None of him. The ID.

You glance over your shoulder, curious that he hadn’t answered you.

“Yeah,” he sighs, smoking between his two fingers again. “Could get lost in a place like this.”

You pause in your inspection, eyes soft because of the drugs or the low lighting or something else, and take his hand. “Lucky I’ve got you then.”

His mouth is instantly dry in a way that has nothing to do with the weed. He offers you the joint and you smoke too, eyelids drooping, allowing him another second of looking.

And then another smile breaks across your face.

“Fuck,” your laugh turns into a cough. “Did you ever get that stupid fucking waterbed you wouldn’t shut up about? I remember you swearing the first thing you’d buy when you were rich and famous was a waterbed – which I thought was so fucking cool because I’d never heard of a waterbed before because I was seven and it sounded like something totally made up — so of course, someone rich and famous could have one.”

You’re still holding hands, your palm dry and warm, when he laughs too. He takes the joint back from you, eyes narrowing as he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes.

Turns out moral degradation is a fucking cannon ball.

“Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

You squeeze his hand, eyes bright, before almost sprinting down the hall to the room on the right. He follows you, struck by the notion this is the first and last time you’ll ever enter his bedroom. This has to be the end of something.

He hears a grunt and a groan and he can’t help but smile. He saunters into the room, leaning up against the door frame with his hands in the pockets of his robe. You are face down on the mattress, hands under your chest.

“This is not a water bed,” you grumble, the sound muffled.

Once again, Maria deserved a raise just for making his bed.

“No, it’s not,” he says slowly, as he edges a teasing tone into his next words. “Look, I did get a fucking water bed, alright? Just about a century ago when they were still a thing.”

You ease up onto your elbows and glare at him. “Can’t believe you got rid of it. What a waste.”

And then you’re sliding back onto your knees, hands planted on the covers, and for just a second, he swears he can see the outline of your cunt through the material that could hardly be called shorts.

His knees actually buckle for a second before he stands up right and physically has to close his eyes. Looking away wouldn’t have been enough.

But you don’t see all of this. You’re frowning down, as if glaring hard enough will bypass physics and liquidate the mattress.

“What happened to it? The water bed, I mean.”

Just as he’s gotten his heart rate back under control, your question throws everything into a spiral again.

Do not fucking tell her about the hookers and the brass pasties. Or the cock ring. Definitely do not mention the cock ring.

“It, uh, popped.”

You smirk over your shoulder. “It was a sex thing, wasn’t it?”

The question lingers, Dieter unable to make a coherent word that didn’t sound like take your pants off right fucking now, so he swallows and shakes his head. By some minor miracle, you shrug and don’t push it, sliding off the bed and completing your assessment of his life by regarding the book collection against the opposite wall.

It’s bigger than you expect someone like Dieter to have, but its placement in the house – almost hidden in his private bedroom – suggests that its volume is not there to impress. It’s his personal collection and, judging by the bent spines, books he’s actually read, perhaps several times. There’s a small desk next to it, crouching in the corner and littered with sheets of paper that look like they were torn from a sketchbook.

He couldn’t decide which version of himself he wanted you to see less: Dieter, full of vices, or Dieter, bratty actor who only acted in the first place because he couldn’t cut it as a real artist.

Your hands run over the sketches, eyes annoyingly unreadable, and just as he’s about to leap forward and scoop all of the sketches into the trash, you move on. Your interest is caught by some of the books. You make noises that are both outside of the realm of approval or disgust and he finds himself nervous. Book reading is about the last thing on anyone’s mind once they’ve reached the final destination of The Bedroom, so he’s never worried about what someone might think. But this isn’t just someone, it’s you.

His mouth opens to make some quippy remark, when you gasp and lunge forward, grabbing something at the back of the shelf.

“Holy shit, that’s you!”

You hold up a picture of his high school’s production of Othello and there he is fifteen and smack dab in the middle of the cast.

“Oh fuck, I forgot that was there,” he groans, dropping the nearly gone joint into an ashtray by the side of the bed. You’re practically glowing with excitement and he rolls his eyes as he takes it from you.

“Jesus Christ, look at that kid. Has no idea what kind of dumbass he’s going to grow up to be.”

Three years after that photo was taken, he had left in the middle of the night for Hollywood. Of course, just as he had finished packing up his piece-of-shit Chevy, Enrico caught him. Exploded in his face and scolded him in his old man ways for leaving without saying nothing.

He kept this photo because it was the last thing that reminded him of home and yet so distant it didn’t hurt as bad any more.

“I think he did spectacular for himself,” you grin at him. “Who knew The Dieter Bravo was such a softie for the old days?”

He smirks at you, finally sick of you kicking his ass all night. There is a line between fucking you and out sassing you, one he could live with. You aren't fucking ready for that Dieter.

“No way,” he rubs the bottom of his lip with his thumb, artfully contemplative, and purposefully distractingly hot. “Just keep it around for the spank bank. Ms. Lemons was a babe.”

You narrow your eyes at him as he leans across you to put the photo back. “Oh yeah? I gave my first blow job in that blackbox.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.”

“Yes I did!”

“What was his name?”

“Jeremy.”

“Jeremy what?”

“Jeremy . . . Barnes.”

“Pssh, fake name, fake boyfriend, fake story.”

“He was real! I just . . . can’t remember his last name right now.”

“Blurs together with all the other guys you’ve blown, right?”

You bite the corner of your mouth, your smirk so tight he can almost picture your toes curling. Not that he’d dare break eye contact with you now. Now that he’s got you practically pinned to the bookshelf, photo forgotten and something that’s been slinking around for the past three hours finally rolling on its back and exposing its belly.

He knows The Look, he practically invented it, and he can’t quite remember why it’s not okay to get that from your niece and someone twenty years younger than him. Right now, the portion of his brain that can sort that’s fucked up and it’s not that hard to refrain from being a fucking creep is filled with smoke, a sort of hissing sound there that is not unlike a shaken soda begging for release.

And dear God does he want release. But he’s willing to edge it just a bit longer, scrape that muscle as gingerly as he can before touching it where it needs to be touched.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you say softly, meekly being cowed for the first time all night. Fuck, do you have to make it so easy?

“That’s right. You don’t. Because if it were any good, you’d remember it.”

He puts a hand above your shoulder to stop himself from sinking into you. Weed made the world feel plushy, moldable – and he just wants to lounge in the dip of your bottom lip. You look so different from the girl who showed up soaking wet at his front door.

Your breathing hitches the closer he comes, your eyes fluttering as you watch his fingers dig into the spines of the books.

“What’s his first name again, darling? Do you still remember that?”

You gasp, loudly, as if his itching fingers had finally sunk in between your legs, but you’re sliding away from him and pulling out something from the shelf. Something white and something he should have fucking hidden better.

“Oh my God, is this my senior yearbook?”

You’re wandering over to his bed, leaving Dieter reeling, his own spell so alarmingly effective he is caught beneath it too. It takes him a moment to blink as he realizes maybe this is where you reneg and decide you don’t want to fuck him after all.

“It’s not as weird as it sounds –,” he begins, heart in his throat, and hands safely in his pockets as he joins you near the bed. You still haven’t looked up as you flip through the glossy pages.

“Sure, sure.”

“Look, your dad sent it to me and I didn’t even open it,” he says honestly. The package was delivered on the Tuesday afternoon when he woke up so hungover he actually thought he might die, and couldn’t bear the thought of not recognizing you in the class photo.

Funny how that all fucking worked out.

You hadn’t leapt off the bed, called him a dirty old man, and ran away to call the police. Which are probably good signs. So, slowly, he sits down next to you, halfway on the bed and halfway off.

“He sent it just a few weeks ago. I didn’t really think much of it at the time,” he says quietly. So you had been on the high school’s newspaper staff, as well as being the captain of the journalism club and ran the book club. You were on the volleyball team and co-Secretary of the student body government. Here, he spent all night trying to find out what kind of person you are when half your life is waiting for him upstairs. “But maybe he sent it as, like, some sort of . . . fond reminder.”

You snort, your thumb tucked under your chin as your hand touches the memories on the page.

“No, it fucking wasn’t. He was guilt-tripping you.”

So your dad definitely still remembered the fight all those years ago. Dieter grimaces. His gaze slides from the stock pages, to your knee, down the crease of your thigh.

“You know, he would have made me your godfather if–,”

“If you weren’t such a fuck up. Yeah, he told me that too.”

You finally look at him and find him nearly out of breath, eyes wide as though he had been struck by a sledgehammer right to the chest.

“Actually, he told me if I came around more.”

Your face crumples, the flippancy gone.

“Fuck, Dee, I’m sorry.” You cup the back of his neck with your palm in a soothing gesture and it stirs something within him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It is what it is.” Deflection, distraction, escape.

You smile gently, thumbing his curls as your eyes roam his face, seeing right through his bullshit.

“You know, you kinda became the cautionary tale around us growing up,” you murmur, gaze searching his face. “Not sure why, though. Since you’re, like, a gazillionaire.”

Not worth it. None of it’s worth it.

“I get that. I get why he didn’t want me around. Probably best that I fucked off and never looked back.”

The corners of your eyes crinkle, as though he had said something that didn’t make sense. You stop combing his hair and run your thumb over his ear.

“But I don’t think you are,” you say slowly, as though you didn’t need to explain. “A cautionary tale, I mean. I think you’re . . . an inspiration. No one in our town ever fucking leaves, but you did. You got the fuck out and lived your dreams. And that’s pretty cool.”

There’s not any hope for me, not if you knew all the fucked up shit I want to do to you.

Don’t look at me like that.

When he looks around for some self control, something to pull himself out of the pit he’s dragging you both in, there’s nothing. All eroded.

Moral degradation is a smooth fucking shot.

The yearbook drops from your lap, clatters to the ground as he takes your face with both his hands, his rings pressing into your cheeks, and kisses you so hard his lips knock against your teeth. The force of it rocks you flat against the mattress, your fingers wrapping around his wrists, grounding you to him – don’t take this back, don’t let go – and his tongue runs against your bottom lip once before your mouth opens without hesitation. He can feel that, that desperation, that eagerness to let him in, and he groans into the hollow of your mouth and you take it, you match it, just like everything else he'd given you this night.

Your tongue rises to catch him, to guide him, to show him the places you need to be touched. He’ll get there, you little thing, so he nips your upper lip and you gasp, your body tightening beneath him. He grins – there’s so much you have to learn.

His palm drifts away from your jaw, thumb gentle as it coaxes your cheek to the side, before he latches his lips to your neck, sucking and then a quick bite– all eased by his tongue. Your fingers dig up into his hair, clutching him to your chest as there is anything, anywhere else he’d rather be in the world. As if anyone could pry him off you.

He dives back into your mouth, air rushing out of your nose in a silent moan, and your knee hooks out around his hips, pulling him into the cradle of your lap. You jerk back –

“Dee, you’re – holy shit –,”

Your hips brush up as if you had somehow gotten it all wrong the first time. As if he isn’t rock hard above you. Your eyes widen as he smirks down at you.

“Yeah, baby, that’s all you. All you do to me.”

He chuckles, dropping his head to your chest, breathing deeply, head spinning from kissing you so thoroughly. He inhales, nose rubbing against the soft material of your shirt, ideas of peeling it off you with his teeth. Your scent, it’s all at once intoxicating, mesmerizing, and . . . familiar.

He groans, almost nuzzling your chest.

“Fuck, this smells like that nasty deodorant from 711 I used to buy ‘cause I couldn’t afford anything else.”

You slowly open your eyes up at him, a distantly embarrassed smile curling up the corners of your mouth. You look hazy, blurred, lips flushed and pink from getting them sucked and bitten. Had he not just licked your entire mouth clean from spit, you might have blushed.

Your fingers curl gingerly around the back of his neck. “Well, you never forget your first.”

His mouth falls open. You had successfully knocked him back on his ass for a second time that night.

“Shut the fuck up,” he husks, a grin breaking across his lips as the hand at your shoulder pulls gently at the sleeve. “This is my shirt? This has got to be older than you are.”

A small part of his brain, the part that definitely would object to fucking his pseudo-niece, goes warm at the thought that some part of him still lived in that neighborhood, was still there for all the important moments of your life.

That is until the very active part of his brain lumbers in, quashes all gentle feelings and promptly wrestles for control of his mouth to ask you flat out if you ever touched yourself while wearing it. Not that he didn’t want to know, but if you said yes, he would have come right there on the spot, perhaps so hard his dick popped off. So he did not ask you that, but he did satisfy that part of his brain by molding his hand around your hip, so he could feel the cool fabric on the back of his hand, and your warm, plush skin against his palm.

You like her being drenched in you, don’t you?

You swat at his chest, rolling your eyes, oblivious to his rapidly darkening thoughts. “It is not older than me, but if it was . . . would that be a problem?”

You pick at imaginary lint on his shoulder, hips rolling just enough to indicate it better not be a fucking problem, and a smirk on your face that reads innocent and filthy all at once.

Dieter shakes his head, grinning as he inches his wide palm up your hip, across the thin flesh of your ribs and –

Does not find a bra.

You had not been wearing a bra the entire night.

Your smirk deepens, your back arching into his palm, as his thumb brushes the underside of your breast, then over your tightening nipple. You moan softly, eyes fluttering, when he pinches it deftly. His jaw ticks, teeth grinding from the pleasure of watching your mouth arch open.

It’s like you had been given a list of all the things that turned him on and you are crossing them off one by one. Like you had skinned him and read all his little nasty thoughts written on his ribs and made them your own.

Like you were made for him.

He leans forward, the bristles of his beard and mustache rough like matches against the shell of your ear, his voice so weighty it could have been another physical thing he intended to drive into you, intended to rub against you to make you keen with pleasure.

“It’s not a fucking problem, you little brat. Only problem is gonna be if it keeps me from watching those pretty tits bounce while I fuck you.”

There it is. Out in the open. As if all his flirting and touching and tongue between his teeth hinted at something else besides you spread out under him. Half delirious from being so hard, he grins as he bites the bottom of the shirt – his shirt, Jesus Christ – and pulls it up and he ducks his head under the material and presses a sucking kiss into the valley of your tits.

He likes giving head from underneath the sheets because, yes, it was hard to breathe. It was hot and stifling and everything smelled of sweat and sex and eventually his brain was forced to make a decision about what motor functions to hold onto and he made it focus on sensations until he was sure he’d be swallowed up by the cunt under his mouth or impaled by the cock in the back of his throat and if that’s how they found him dead, he’d be absolutely fine with all of it.

Dieter Bravo – died doing what he loved. Giving immaculate, delicious head.

The heat under the shirt is nowhere near as intense but it’s enough to make him flush with want. He licks the sweat gathering underneath your right tit, holds it on his tongue before he lathers both his spit and your sweat over your clearly-painfully tight nipple. Every touch of his makes you stutter and he can feel you unconsciously rubbing your hips up against him.

“This isn’t going to end up on Youtube or some shit, right?” You ask above him, your voice rough as though your throat is dry. “You don’t have cameras filming this, right, Dee?”

He chuckles with his nose rimming your left nipple. Do you have a voyeur kink? He muses vaguely.

Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have gotten rid of that mirror.

“No, baby, it’s not going on Youtube.” He runs his warm palms up the curves of your side as he tugs his head out from underneath the shirt. “All the videos go directly to a password-protected server in the Cloud.”

“Dee–,” you groan as he lunges forward and kisses you hopefully so hard it knocks those silly thoughts from your brain before pulling back to grin helplessly at you.

You cannot physically describe how impishly adorable he looks with his hair mussed, his lips pink and twisted in a smirk – you cannot really do anything at all, really – but your hand slides up from his shoulder, across his warm neck and settles into his cheek. The last bit of brown is swallowed by a swelling blackness as you rub your thumb across the bottom of his lip. This thing that has been eating at you the longer you’re around him edges you on, daring you to push him just a bit further because it knows you’d just love what he’ll do. It knows more than you, but it’s not exactly smarter than you. It’s just simply fascinated by Dieter Bravo.

Your own mouth parts, your eyelids growing heavy, as you swipe across his lips one more time before sliding your thumb into the warmth of his mouth. Eyes never leaving yours, his tongue greets your thumb, massaging the pad before licking around it like he’d swirl off the top of an ice cream cone. He sucks gently and you can’t fight the noise that comes out of you. Almost shocked, surprised that you can feel this aroused with all your clothes on and just his tongue. He drags his tongue across the back of your knuckle and the groan is louder now – you want to bite into him – and he pushes his hips into the mattress.

“C’mere, baby girl–,”

Dropping your thumb, he dives in again for your mouth, this time the back of his hand grasping your neck. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you as if forgetting there was another way to relieve the tension in his gut, the spark that's fanning smoke like a brushfire into every place your skin, your spit, touches his.

“Take– this– off–,” He pants between the hot presses of his mouth to your jaw, your neck, the spot beneath your ear that makes you keen in a new way. His hands are scrambling over yours to get the shirt up and over your head, desire almost making him panic that everything is going too fast but not fast enough – he wants to be inside of you in every way that matter – he wants you to smell like him – to breath his same air –

He’s not so much kissing as opening his mouth over your skin, his teeth and tongue and lips fighting over themselves to get to you first. He wants to linger, wants to take his time but the pressure – he deliriously thinks he can smell you – and only when his fingers clamp down on the waistband of your shorts – he has half a mind to punish you for walking around in these things, making his sanity unwind in the hallways of this fucking place, until the only truly sane thing to do is fuck you and fuck you good – the thought is so strong, almost violent he pauses.

He looks up to the devastation he’s left in his wake – bright, purple spots on the inside of your breasts, under your ribs, the small swell of your stomach, your chest heaving – and he watches your face. You realize he’s stopped moving, slowed in his volcanic thunderous roll down to the clutch of your cunt, and you meet his gaze. You swallow, mouth too dry to form words, so you splat a hand on his shoulder.

"No robe. I’m not – not going to let you f-fuck me in a bathrobe.”

He grins. Of course, you would sass him after a make out session so intense he doesn’t even care if he comes in his pants. But he obliges, pretty much willing to cut off a finger if you continue to purr at him like you are.

“Excuse you, this is lounge wear.” He leans back onto his knees and shrugs himself out of the green robe. Your eyes flash to the triangle on his forearm and he’d be fucked to admit he didn’t get it entirely for the look in your eyes right now. Chicks always dug the tattoos. Your tits bounce as your breathing hitches.

Not Daddy’s girl, his smoke-heavy, lust-soaked brain chants at him, not Daddy’s girl.

God, he’s so hard it hurts.

He goes back down, dropping himself between your legs, arms tucked up under the backs of your thighs. He mouths the inside of your thigh – a distraction as his hand, like some sort of fucked up, horny magician performs a slight-of-hand, “iiiis this your clit?” – rubs you over your shorts. You are soaking wet and he’s fighting the urge to just dig in there, suckle you through the wet spot. He hadn’t actually made someone come that way before, but now seemed like an excellent opportunity to try.

“You know, for someone who has to couch-surf, you talk a lot.”

He noses the rim of the bottom of your shorts, allowing a full gaze down to your ass.

“Sorry if I’m sick of fucking boys who look like their mom dressed them.” You are breathless, shaky, unwinding at the seams and you know exactly what to say to dig right into him.

He bites the soft place at the back of your thigh and you groan.

“I thought you couldn’t remember any of them before me,” he purrs, watching that damp spot grow darker the longer he talks, the longer he holds off on touching you where you and him and the entire fucking world knows you need to be touched.

Maybe you ran your mouth too, when you were nervous, overwhelmed. Maybe you laughed too loud when you didn’t know what else to do, and maybe you gave him shit because the second words stopped coming out of your mouth, you’d have to sink into whatever he was giving you. You’d have to kneel to the white lighting between your legs. Maybe you were afraid there wouldn’t be white lightning at all.

Families share similar insecurities, after all.

He waits until you open your mouth again before hooking his fingers under the band of your shorts.

“Hmm, there’s actually a fairly long list of guys before you. Guys who–,”

He sucks the skin just an inch to the right of your hip bone, just before the patch of curly hair, he sucks it into his mouth and bites so gently he knows that your brain nearly splits in half from the hairline fracture between pleasure and pain.

You gasp and you’re already arching off the bed. He breathes across those coarse, damp curls and inhales.

Girlsex.

Girlsweat.

It’s like there’s acid corroding his brain, eating away at the clamps holding his sanity together and he’s gonna go fucking ballistic if the acid doesn’t get to him first. But he wants the burn. He wants the chemical smell.

He wants . . . to put his dick into something.

But first –

You’re pliable. Easy to move as he scoops your shorts off your ass – Oh, fucking Christ, there’s her entire backside, isn’t there? – over your thighs and he hurls the shorts over his shoulder. He inhales–

God, this pussy is going to kill me, he thinks or maybe says out loud before he tips forward into that black, fluttering hole. When he licks you, you both moan.

He remembers specifically doing planks for as long as he could to build up the upper body strength to languish here for hours.

Well, at the time, here wasn’t here here, but if everything before this was practice, then he was ready for the Olympics, dick as hard as a goddamn gold medal.

He swipes up with his tongue, licking and sucking and swirling like frosting was going out of style. Frosting, that’s it. That’s what you reminded him of. Fat, sweating, sweet frosting. And there was the cherry on top.

He guides your clit into his mouth, his fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as if to pull himself deeper into the wettest goddamn pool at the fucking YMCA. He sucks once and your hands fly into his hair. You’re making sounds that somewhat resemble his name, but they’re too high, too pitchy, too airless to be anything coherent.

He wants to tease you about all the boys you mentioned. Wants you to go back on your word, beg for him to believe that there was no one else before him. If there was, it didn’t matter because this is it. This is the best you’d ever have.

Even when you left him, you’d never forget –

Disgustingly, he slurps up one lip of yours into his mouth and you cry out, fingernails digging into his scalp so hard that it hurts and sends another rush of blood into his weeping cock. He mouths up before teasing your clit again – around it but never on it – before diving back down and lapping up your other lip.

“Dieter–,” you garble as if you know it’s filthy. He can hear your breathing tighten in your chest, feel your thighs clench around his ears, and he swears if he gets out of this with hair in tact, that’s the most he’s going to ask for –

And he french-kisses your clit.

You come, gasping, writhing, back arching off the mattress and he bares his forearm across your stomach, reaching up to pinch your nipple.

Settle down. We’re only just getting started.

He’s got to control himself but staring up at you, your face flushed with pleasure, he can’t quite remember what he’s supposed to do next.

You are naked underneath him. Naked and heaving and he licks the dampness staining his mattress just to have your taste in his mouth again. This is going to be a problem, if he can’t think straight without his mouth on you.

Oh my God, duh, fingers.

He pulls himself up the length of your body, and his hands sink into your hair. His fingers curl around your ear as he makes you look at him.

“How are you feeling?” It’s an echo of what he asked earlier. You’re still warm but your breathing has slowed. Your eyes are open, even if they’re fighting to stay open as if you are concussed.

“Good. Great.” You mutter, hand falling to his chest and tangling with his shirt.

“You wanna keep going?”

Your eyes open wider as if someone rang a dinner bell and you’d been walking on hands and knees, starving for weeks. You swallow thickly, nodding frantically, and the hand leaves his chest, winding down between you and, before he can stop you, slides under the material of his sweats and strokes him.

Your hands are like velvet.

Fuck, then what’s your cunt gonna feel like–

Do not fucking come right now.

“Oh, I see,” you huff, a smirk curling your mouth up, as if you had won some unnamed battle. You roll your shoulder to go aaall the way down his cock and stroke him. You think about licking your hand, but the precum leaking out of the tip of his head at a truly flattering rate is enough lubricant to keep your hand from sticking. “I can’t walk around without a bra on, but you can walk around in these thin fucking sweatpants and no underwear.”

He grits his teeth, dropping his head to his chest, trying to breath through the freightcar rattling down his spine.

“It’s my house, you little cocktease,” he pants, gasping as you run your thumb against the vein underneath his shaft. You pump him again and again and he groans low, with his eyes shut to keep them from rolling back in his head. “I can– yeah, right there – do whatever I want. Move your hand. I want to stick my fingers in you.”

His words aren’t so crass they make your ears red, but it’s the unrestrained need in his voice. You slowly withdraw your hands and you go wipe the threads of him on the mattress as he sits up to take his shirt off.

“Don’t. Just– gimme a second.”

He yanks the tank shirt over his head, setting down in between your legs again and blinking like he’d forgotten where he was. He takes your hand, licks your palm as clean as something as dirty as this could ever get, and then penetrates your hole with his middle finger. His tongue slides in the crevice between your ring finger and your pinkie and when he adds a second finger below, you both can feel the moment your brain is wiped blank and your body twitches along with it.

“Mhmm, good.” He pulls you down closer to him, fingers plucking your strings like the finest guitar. Your knees are spread wider than when he had half his body down there. He’s watching you practically drown his hand in the wetness seeping out, his other hand holding or balancing your knee.

He hovers above you, watching you roll and writhe and beg. His forearm is strained, his hand must be soaking, and he thinks your face contorted in pleasure might be permanently burned into his brain. There is still some part of him that knows that’s wrong. He shouldn’t have the faintest idea of what you looked like, high and blissed out of your mind, while his fingers stroke and dig and pluck and rub to drag you higher and higher –

The pad of his middle finger brushes something spongy and you nearly slam your legs shut over his arm, if it weren’t for his free hand pinning you open.

“Dee,” you croak, head shaking, “that was – you can’t–,”

His eyes flutter at the sound of your voice so wrecked. He needs to memorize that exact spot, save it for when you don’t have enough sanity left to push back. It’s scary, he knows, but you must be out of your goddamn mind if you thought he was going to let anything bad happen to you.

“Look at my thumb. Baby, look down.”

You wrench your eyes open, past your quivering chest, down his long forearm, down to where the black bullseye on the meat of the space between his thumb and palm is winking at you.

He’s stroking you with his thumb on your clit and the bullseye winking up at you. It’s eye-fucking you and that’s enough to break you. He wants to drink whatever drips out of you as your body locks up, head thrown back, and you come. You break through and his hand curls around your knee, gently, as he watches your body crescendo for the second time that night. He sucks his fingers, almost pensively, as if he is going to carve something out of you. Remake you. Split apart your atoms and rebuild you whole. Sex as an act of re-creation.

He kneels his way out of his pants, cock pounding red, leaking, the hot center of where his want for you is infecting him like a sickness.

Slowly, he drags one of your knees over his shoulder, half of your body hovering just above the mattress.

He wants to ask if you need it rough or slow. He can’t be gentle right now but he does have enough awareness to keep from hurting you. But maybe you, like him, like a little bit of pain.

He wants you on top, wants to see you sing for him, but he knows your legs are jelly. He knows there’s a white static hum in your brain and he’s so grateful for the pleasure of it.

He rubs the top of your thigh and noses the back of your ankle up by his ear.

“Do you want me to put a condom on?” he asks quietly, before kissing that spot below your ankle.

“Are you clean?” He’s so fucking broad and his rings pinch your skin when he pushes too hard and he’s asking for your comfort. You also want to feel every inch of his cock and you beg him to say yes.

He nods, suddenly irrationally thankful of Paul’s monthly mandated screenings. You get the clap once, and your fucking manager never lets you forget it.

You huff, realizing you’re so close your cunt can almost taste it. “I-I’m on the pill. A-a-and I’m clean too.”

As if he had ever denied you anything, as if his willpower hadn’t barely lasted four hours, you tense at the anticipation of his cock.

He’s just as warm, just as ready, so he grabs your other ankle and draws it next to your other one against the back of his neck. He sinks back just a bit on his ankles, fingers spreading you and grabbing himself and then–

It’s like getting the wind knocked out of you and getting sprayed with a hose of fire all at once.

“JesusfuckingChrist, you’re tight.”

He edges deeper as he sits up right, going slow not because he hadn’t unwound you properly but because if he went any faster, he’d obsess over the idea of getting rug burns on his dick.

“Dieter, oh God–,”

Hands leaving your ankles to wrap around your thighs, he rocks his hips back and drags out his cock just as much as the both of you can handle before thrusting forward. Again.

Again. He can’t seem to fill you enough. He wants to be bigger, thicker, girthier, if only to plug you up more.

But, fuck, your cunt is better than your hands but only because it’s so warm and wet and throbbing and he swears his heartbeat is in his ears.

He thrusts almost lazily, dipping his head to kiss your shin before dropping it back, your toes brushing his hair. His hands greedily squeeze your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles.

It’s like he has to recover from the shock and sensation of fucking you. It’s too good. It’s too much.

He’s inside of you.

If there’s a relief fund for grilled cheese, he’s going to have to donate every red cent he’s ever owned.

Your hands clench the sheets, mouth open and, yes, beautiful tits bouncing with every thrust. It’s not them hovering above him, begging to be bitten, but it’s close and he smooths his hand down from your thigh over his chest, down your hip and he kneads your breast.

“Oh, fuck, Dee, fuck . . . you feel so fucking good.”

I want to die in this cunt.

“So good, baby.”

It’s back, that pressure that connects the backs of his eyes, to the back of his gut, all the way to his pussy-soaked cock. This time he lets it build, lets it dangle out of reach, and his thrusts become faster, hurried. You jerk beneath him and let out a full whine as if he had spanked you.

He fucks you some more this way, just to feel that tightening in his gut, before he pulls your legs off his shoulders and you whine again, this time out of annoyance.

He has the where-with-all to smirk.

“What, baby doesn’t like it when I take away her toys?” He pants, almost feeling light-headed. You scowl at him but don’t push back in the least as he turns you onto your hands and knees.

“It was just starting to feel good, you a-ahh–ss–,”

He jerks his hips into you without warning, fully seating you on his cock and your head drops between your shoulders.

“If you weren’t such a brat, you’d be kind of cute,” he murmurs as he rubs his thumb over the knots in your spine, the sensation of your cunt sucking him in almost detaching him from this plane of existence. He knows you like to be teased, with his words, with his fingers, his mouth. He wants to give you everything – anything – he’s so pussy-obsessed he can feel it like ozone in his mouth.

He never wants to stop fucking you. He’s being unstable about it.

“You like that I’m a brat,” you say and push back with your hips. The sensation does make him stutter and you take it as a win. His rings sting as they squeeze your hips.

He’s sliding down that pressure, winding himself up so tightly in it he wants to stop breathing –

He starts pumping faster. The sounds that echo in that room are like music to his ears.

The sheets ruffling as your hands clench around them. The jolt of the bed as it lurches back and forth.

Your moans as he fucks every thought out of your head. “Fuck, you’re so big. It’s not fair.”

The wet slap of his thighs meeting yours.

And it all narrows down, the universe closing to a single focal point– all of it runs right to his cock rubbing up inside your cunt like it owns the place.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, head down. “Please – please fuck me harder, Uncle Dieter.”

With a growl that surprised even him, he drops forward, one hand anchoring himself to your hip and the other coming up around your throat. You gasp as his fingers dig painfully into your skin. He pulls you both up right, nose in your ear and teeth tight in his jaw.

He punctuates every word with a particularly brutal thrust that gnaws at something truly devastating inside you.

“Don’t – fucking – call me that – while – I’m inside – you–,”

You turn your head, flush with his and the hand that’s on your throat slides up to your cheek and he holds you there, pins you there as his cock pounds the daylights out of you.

“Say my name.” He husks. There’s something cataclysmic happening inside your cunt and he has the launch codes.

You can’t remember feeling so full before. So up your eyes and your mouth and your ears and your heart – God, maybe there really hadn’t been anyone before him.

“Oh, fuck, Dieter,”

“No, honey, my real name.”

Your eyes flicker open and something in his chest roars. He’ll kiss you after this. He’ll kiss you so hard you end up on another fucking planet.

“David.”

The sweat on his temples mixes with yours and he wants to smear himself in your fluids. This close, his beard and mustache rub roughly against your skin and you wonder how long the burn will last after all this. You’re clenching his arm, clenching his lower back to you, you think you’ll make him bleed in half-moon cuts of blood.

“All of it. All of it, baby girl,” he whispers to your cheek, your jaw. “Say it. I need to hear it. I need to hear it from you.”

Your fucked-out mind spins, clutching at the memories of the past, to a name you hadn’t heard in a decade, while the man you’ve known all your life threatens to undo your sanity. You lock eyes with him, the precipice of something so large and looming, you can’t wait to be crushed by it.

“Davíd Moralés.”

And that bastard’s cock intentionally pushes against that spongy spot and you shriek. Honest to God, yell, as you come, with Dieter wrapped up against your back, sweat streaking both of you.

“Get down,” he hisses suddenly and almost throws you off him. You land on your back, your entire body pulsing as one single organism, and he grabs his cock in time to aim it at your chest.

He comes, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, as he sprays you with white ropes. It’s warm on your tits and you shudder through your aftershocks. You feel like you’re sinking into warmth as he keeps coming, your inner thighs drenched and dripping, and finally, he leans away and collapses on the bed next to you.

There’s ringing in your ears.

You feel swollen all over, your nerve centers humming and firing and crackling as though someone whapped you over the head with a 500 volt electric baton. You want to keep sinking, keep drifting, keep existing in this warm, non-corporeal form. Everything feels so good here.

You had no idea you, or anyone else for that matter, could come that hard.

“Holy shit.”

You can’t help but grin through the short huffs of breath you swallow down in gasps.

You want to sass him but it feels a bit like spitting in the face of God. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

He sits up on his elbows, glancing over his side at you, the begrudgingly fantastic cock between his legs as deflated as you are.

“Are you okay? Fuck, sorry, I got a little crazy there at the end.”

You shake your fist loosely, with your thumb and pinky finger extended. “I don’t hear customer service calling. In fact, I think the line has been permanently disconnected.”

You both laugh softly and his eyes roam over your face. This is why he only saw vampy women. It was easier to wake up to something almost over-the-top hot, than this. Than you, with your beautifully flushed cheeks, plump lips, and eyes that searched only for him.

His gut twisted painfully. Okay, you nutted so hard you’re pretty sure your dick isn’t going to work for a week, now wake up. Wake up and smell the fucking arrest warrant.

Uncle Dieter. You're his niece.

What the fuck were you thinking? Where could this possibly go?

Instead of inspecting the small-starting-to-grow painful throbbing in his chest, he sits up and pleasantly inspects the mess you both made all over you. You follow his gaze, smirking as he intentionally smears his cum over your skin with his thumb.

“Oh, and that thing you did at the end, where you made me–,”

“Yeah?” He grinned wickedly, almost begging you to use your words, but you had been so good for him. He’d save that for later. “You liked that?”

“At the risk of sounding desperate, yes. A thousand times yes. But totally unfair and totally cheating.”

He snickers and leans down to your thighs. “Yeah, okay, Ms. I’m Not Wearing a Bra.”

The smell of you is intoxicating and it’s drenching your thighs, the sheets below you. Maybe he could strip the bed before Maria came – oh, fuck, what if it’s in the mattress?

He hauls those thoughts out of his mind, his dick twitching uncomfortably, as he bends forward and licks the inside of your thigh.

“Oh my God, Dee, you can’t possibly be –,”

“Relax. I’m not. Just wanted to clean you up.”

He licks the drying liquid from your skin – you hiss, so very overstimulated – dragging his tongue up, never breaking eye contact with you as he slinks up your body, shoulders rolling – “Dee, wait, you’re gonna–,” and licks the cum off your chest. His own cum.

“Oh, fuck, that’s nasty,” you murmur, eyes transfixed on his mouth as he swallows. He chuckles, finally deciding you’ve had enough for one night, and he leans forward and presses his lips on your temple.

“I’m not ready, but it sounds like you might be.”

He reaches back to the floor where his shirt was so casually discarded. He gingerly wipes your thighs, your hips, your stomach and chest. There’d be time for a proper wash later, but right now he thinks he’s going to pitch forward into unconsciousness in less than thirty seconds. His limbs are heavy, his eyelids are heavy but he can’t stop smiling.

You grin at him as he tosses the very used shirt back onto the ground and gets up from the bed to disappear into the bathroom. You roll onto your side, after unpeeling the bedsheets like you had done it a thousand times. When he comes back, you rub your face against his pillows and he realizes if he’s going to hoard the sheets, then he’s going to have to do the same to the pillowcase.

“I’m not gonna wake up and find you mouthing that shirt, am I?” You ask, a smirk already cradling your lips. He huffs at you as he hands you a glass of water. You take it, gratefully, only vaguely aware that he probably did that kind of thing all the time with his other conquests.

That thought threatens to sour your good mood so you put the glass back onto the bedside table and curl deeper into the sheets.

He climbs in behind you, and rubs his nose over your shoulder and up into your ear, his hand spread across your hip.

“Only if I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t mouth your tits.”

He’s purposefully being sexy, being teasing, but there’s a question there. A request. A quiet ask that for all his thick dick swinging, doesn’t have the cojones to verbalize.

You smirk at him and roll back slightly to catch his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and squeeze once.

“Baby, I couldn’t stand up right if I fucking tried.”

He grins, eyes warm. “Wow. Even if you fucking tried?”

God, this is such a bad idea.

“Even if I fuck-in’ tried.”

But despite all his not-at-all begging, he wakes up alone.

He wakes up in broad daylight – the storm had passed. Too bright light streams in from between the gray curtains, illuminating the one thing he never wanted to see: your side of the bed empty.

His heart clenches so fast he thinks he might be sick. There’s real nausea as he stumbles to his feet and pulls his pants on from last night. He’s about to rush down the stairs, frantically flipping over everything in hopes of finding a note, even if it told him to fuck off.

You’re twenty years older than me, you fucking creep.

Just wait until my dad hears about this.

I never want to see you again.

Just as his mouth dries up till his lips crack, he sees something on the other side of the bed that makes him freeze in his tracks. It’s your phone, plugged into the wall. He goes over and taps the screen. The battery has only 15%.

And then a post-storm breeze rattles the patio door handle and it opens slightly. He sees your barefoot through the cut in the door frame.

Holy fuck, you’re still here, just outside.

Heart now jettisoning into his throat, he opens the door to a truly spectacular morning. His patio looks down to the freshly-washed Los Angeles, the sky a cobalt blue, the air cool and faintly smelling of rain. People run and lead their dogs through the streets and for a minute he thinks he can hear the ocean.

But what makes it truly spectacular is you. Curled up at the small table in one of his white shirts and those sanctimonious shorts. You’ve got a cup of coffee in your hand and you’ve got his favorite book, Eco’s The Name of the Rose, lying flat beneath your fingertips. But you aren’t reading. You’re looking at him.

“Well, hi there. Did you dream you missed a flight?”

He blinks. “What?”

“You just, sort of, rushed out here, looking like you forgot something.” You frown. “Is everything okay?”

He swallows and it’s all he can do to keep from dropping to his knees and pressing his face into your lap.

“Yeah, fine, fine. All good. Fine.”

You turn back to the book, staring at it as if it was giving you a pep talk. Then you shut it and turn back to him.

“So, um, last night . . .”

Here it comes. I regret it, all of it. You drugged me and took advantage of me. I can’t believe that you would–

“Was great.”

He swears he hears his blood rushing in his ears. You smile at him, but clearly uneasy. As if you are the one second-guessing it all.

Fuck, Bravo, put on your big boy pants.

He pulls out the other patio chair and sits down next to you. He clasps his hands, leaning forward on his elbows. His rings clink together. He nods, trying to catch your eyes.

“Yeah. It was fucking fantastic. I mean it. One for the books.”

He waits for you to say but.

You wait for him to say but.

Neither of you do. You grin and put your coffee on the table.

“So, in the events of last night . . . surprisingly, I forgot to charge my phone.”

He doesn’t want to touch you because he thinks it might spook you so he runs his gaze over your lovely knuckles, your wrist.

“Sounds like, then, you might need to stay awhile.”

You swallow, unable to contain the growing smile on your face. You duck your head and he follows you and your breath fans his face.

“Guess so.”

If he tells it, he says he kissed you.

If you tell it, you say you kissed him.

Doesn’t matter though. Doesn’t matter that the coffee grows cold and he ignites something in you that you didn’t know existed.

When he finally pulls away, he’s still smiling.

“This might be a bit weird, but . . . wanna see my other kitchen?”

The End

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #f!reader #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfic

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stylesnews · 10 months

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To each and every single one of you here tonight, I say: thank you, from the bottom of my heart. The last 2 years of my life, the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for. It has been an honour playing for the most wonderful, emotionally generous, group of people - the future that I see standing before me. I know you wanted to make it special for me, you make it special to me every night. Whatever this feeling is that you feel in this crowd tonight, I feel it. What you create together, it is the most inspiring thing I’ve ever seen in my life. The atmosphere you have created, the family you have created, the safe space you have created. Thank you for everything. I know feeling so incredibly small in this world can be really really difficult sometimes but you can do anything, I see it all the time in the little things you do, the way you treat each other in the crowd, how it affected all the people around me, how it affected people out there… it is so much bigger, it does not end when this tour ends. and doesn't end with this tour. Put this love out in the world. I'm gonna miss you.

in the way that you treat you too,

H in Reggio Emilia thanking fans

#i LOST IT #IM CRYING #harry styles #jul23 #lot23 #reggio23

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 7 months

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We Could Be The Greatest Team.

(Y/N) JENNER, best known for being on the reality tv show ‘keeping up with the kardashians.’ She’s also known to be the gorgeous fiancé of pop sensation, the one and only Mr. Harry Styles.

With her growing up with five sisters, that made her a very family oriented person, and Harry likes to think that trait is what got him to initially ask her to be his in the first place.

There first proper date took place in 2013, the two of them being only nineteen at the time, they didn’t want everyone getting involved in there relationship because it was there private life, that was until they chose to go to her older sister, Kim’s wedding where the two were pictured together, very very, close.

2017 was a very big year for the two of them. The year they got engaged to each other. Harry got down on one knee in his Italian villa, there first proper house together that they brought, because in his eyes he knew they would spend forever together.

(Y/N) has been there through it all, so there was no doubt he wanted her to be his wife. On the tours, when One Direction went on there hiatus, when his solo album was released and when he won his Grammy’s she was there to hold his hand and would always be able to ground him if he was having a slightly bad day. Never wanting to go to bed without saying those three simple words.

There wedding was supposed to be in the summer of 2020, but so many obstacles got in there way, COVID, stress from cancelled tours and well a baby. A bouncing baby boy who came screaming into the world in September, 2021.

Sonny Harry Robin Styles.

There journey was a love story like no other, and nothing could ever break them apart. They were a team, two peas in a pod, the yin to her yang, the bestest of friends.

authors note: this isn’t really a series per say, in my opinion it’s more a trope then anything else. when inspiration strikes or i get a certain request, they will get published and tagged here for you all to see:)

if a tag list is something you would like me to set up, let me know <3

real life:

instagram concepts:

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bloomries · 11 months

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COUPLES VACATION

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : the seven demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor.)

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : going on a sweet, romantic couple get-a-away!

﹙ ✿ ﹚── warnings : 2nd person pov. gn! reader. pet name ("love" in satan's). suggestive (lucifer/asmodeus).

﹙ ✿ ﹚── blossom's note : are you a planner or go with the flow kind of person when it comes to vacations? (￣︶￣;) i'm definitely a planner!

LUCIFER

he needs this, a nice and calm vacation with you? it's exactly what he needs- that said, good luck getting him to actually leave the house

(he afraid the whole place will fall apart without him, thankfully you're very convincing~)

lucifer will plan every little detail for however long your vacation is- from what time to finish brushing your teeth to when you should arrive at the factory tour. he takes everything into account and comes up with the best plan.

don't worry, he's made sure to make reservations at a few romantic spots too!

"This is why it says to be ready by 7:45pm." Lucifer sighs, shaking his head, "Why did I give you your own copy only for you to not follow it?" He asks, leaning back in the chair as he watches you finish getting ready. You roll your eyes at his words.

"Because it's ridiculous to schedule each segment of a shower- and you know it is." You say, turning to point at him in an accusatory manner before turning back around and adding the finishing details. "Besides, the reservation is at 9, isn't it? We have plenty of time." Lucifer can only huff in a pouty manner.

Standing from his seat, he makes his way over to you. His hands on your shoulders and look at you throw the vanity mirror the hotel provided. He leans down, his face in the crook of your neck. You chuckle, ruffling his hair at his clingy behavior before you still at the feeling of a kiss. He pulls back with a small, mischievous grin.

"Since we're already behind schedule for tonight, what's a few more minutes, right?"

MAMMON

don't be surprised if you get kicked out of a few places- what do you mean the reservation was two hours ago? no, he's sure it was this time! well can ya still get a table or- oh, they're escorting him out.

definitely likes collecting little souvenirs, either you're getting matching keychains or matching accessories that have the location of your vacation on it.

he falls for all those couple scams; a person claiming they can see the future of your relationship? he has to check it out! roses that are 'on sale'? well how could you go on further without roses really?

sweet and spontaneous romantic detours!

he doesn't want the vacation to end :(

Mammon has a small pout on his lips as he looks at the bracelet around his wrist, a matching couple one he bought at a small street shop you two passed. He smiled a little at it when he remembered you were wearing the other one- but then he pouted because he remembered you were the only currently trying to drag his ass out of the hotel.

"I don't wanna go," He clings on to the bed, shaking his head, "Let's just pay for another night!" Your eyebrow twitches, and you shake your head, pulling on his leg.

"We don't have the funds," You remind him, your bulging suitcases being a big reminder of all the money you two spent on souvenirs and romantic gifts. You sigh, letting go of his leg, putting your hands on your hips.

"Mammon, we'll go on lots more vacations, but we have to go home now." You crawl into the plush bed beside him, guiding his face to look at you. "So lets go home, yeah?"

Mammon's heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn't want to go back to sharing your attention with his brothers just yet.

"Fine... But can we take the scenic route back?"

LEVIATHAN

a cruise! of course if you're going to go on a fun vacation it's gotta be close to the water!

spares no expense on room service- you two will have the greatest damn room service ever (and yes, he will make sure you two go on a cruise with the greatest rating)

please hype him up when you two go out, tell him he looks handsome, give him lots of kisses, etc. bc he's really going out of his comfort zone here!

have at least one "night in" where you two just watch whatever movies/shows are available and eat lots of junk! maybe you two can jump on the bed or have a pillow fight or just be childish in your room!

You had to hold back your giggles at Leviathan's childlike wonder when he saw just how big the cruise ship was. "This is amazing!" He gasps, looking back at you with a grin. You agree, the ship was impressive- but you didn't expect anything less, after all Levi did a lot of research into finding the best cruise!

Boarding the boat, and after a long tour of all the lovely activities, you find yourself sitting on a beach chair and watching your boyfriend play in the water. Swimming, splashing around, you've never seen him so in his element out in public before.

"Ah, b-babe! Come here!" Levi motions for you to come over to the edge of the pool, so you do, bending down to hear him better. With flushed cheeks, he presses a kiss to your cheek. "I was- I was just thinking about how happy I am," He says, "Thank you."

Ah, your heart! Holding back the urge to tease him about how cute he is, you instead decide to get into the water with him and have some fun before he inevitably drags you to the room later for some movies and room service.

SATAN

you two will most definitely be checking out every café within the nearby radius. later sharing juicy drama you two happened to overhear and your thoughts on the coffee/tea & treats!

surprisingly (or unsurprisingly) master of spontaneous romantic moments. musicians in the street? pulls you along to dance with him. starts raining? gotta have that iconic rain kiss. a park? what better than a moonlit walk with romantic whispers~

purposely does things to fluster you while out on vacation, like if you two go to the beach he's flexing, if you two go to a museum he's showing off his knowledge, if you two go to a romantic spot he's a subtle pda expert.

groggy hotel bedhead satan pls imagine i beg of you

Hand-in-hand, you two walked down cobblestone streets and were doing some window shopping when Satan's ears caught a familiar tune— an old love song. An idea came to his head, and that's when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning your attention to Satan, your surprised to see he's bowing a bit, hand outstretched towards you.

"May I have this dance?" He glances up at you, adoring the way your expression grows more and more flustered with each passing second. Shyly, you take his hand, and he pulls you in close.

Satan can sense your nervousness, especially with the way several people pass by staring. "Keep your eyes on me," He whispers, "Just me." Ah, you're not sure if that makes you more nervous or not. You nod, though, and allow him to lead you along in a simple dance.

Old couples and young romantics can't help but whisper about how cute the two of you are, or stare in awe at the pure love you two ooze. When the song ends, he pulls away first, chuckling at your dazed expression. "Are you good, love?" It's your choice if you continue shopping, or dancing the night away, as another old love song begins to play.

ASMODEUS

packs a giant suitcase with like a thousand outfits even if you two will only be gone for a day or two. and even then, he usually will steal your shirt/hoodie to sleep in bc he likes to tease you smh

takes so many pics for devilgram- food shots, selfies, couple photos, etc. he's taking pics of everything!

asmo will drag you to a club at least one night because nothing like dancing on a night out in a new place with your beloved partner!

probably also planned a spa day where you two will basically be pampered all day by professionals.

"I'm telling you, this is just what we needed." Asmodeus hums, his hand squeezing yours lightly. You two were currently in the middle of letting your face masks work their magic, sitting in a comfy chair with cucumbers over your eyes.

"Mmhm," You hum, giving a light squeeze back. You were honestly about to fall asleep with how peaceful was. Asmo giggles, taking a little peak at you- you looked ready to start snoring!

"I think we should check out the saunas next." Although it wouldn't be nearly as hot as the ones in the Devildom, it would still be relaxing. "And if one's empty maybe we can-" Asmo is cut off when a lady walks into the room to check on you both. He giggles at the way you had stiffen, laying back down.

"Well, think it over it and let me know~" Asmo coos, as the lady begins to gently remove Asmo's face mask. Truth is, you're very much awake now, and ready to get this face mask off! Sauna's here you come!

BEELZEBUB

best believe beelzebub is taking advantage of all couple discounts at restaurants and pop-ups. he gets all blushy if you try to feed him or vise versa.

the amount of times you catch him staring at you whilst on vacation is insane. he just really likes seeing this side of you- well, he likes every side of you but this side is new so he's taking his time admiring it~

if you two are in a nearby park and u go to get ice cream, beel will sit on a bench and begin talking to anyone who listens about how much he loves you- many hopeless romantics will gather around him!

buys cheesy shirts like 'if lost return to ____' and wears them without a hint of shame. not like you'll see any of these people ever again?

Your little couples vacation had been going good so far! There was just one little problem; "Where did Beel go now!?" You panic. You swore he was just behind you, but now you can't spot him anywhere- which is an impressive feat since he's giant! Grabbing the worlds tallest pairs of ice creams, you desperately search for him, only time find him feeding pigeons with an elderly man.

You relax, chuckling to yourself when Beel eats a little of the bird seeds. Approaching you, you still when you overhear their conversation- this was the same conversation you had heard the last time, and the last. You can't help but smile and grow bashful.

"This is our first vacation together," Beel says, the older man humming. "It's kind of strange not being in a house filled with the others but I also really like being with just them." Beel tosses a handful of seeds to the birds. "Also, I'm learning a lot more about them, which makes me happy. I hope they're having fun too." He then grows silent with a dopey little smile on his lips.

"Beel," You finally call, and he lifts his head- his smile only widening. "I got the ice creams- they're kind of melting now though," You say as you hand him his. "Another new friend of yours?" You nod the elderly man, and Beel nods.

"What were you two talking about?" You tease, enjoying the way his cheeks grow rosy.

BELPHEGOR

when can you two go back home your bed is soooo much comfier than this hotel bed ugh he wants to throw tantrum but he won't bc he likes seeing you happy but just know he'll be stubborn throughout the vacation

snickers as he buys you two the ugliest matching souvenirs/shirts.

going to a fun little movie in the park (bring a blanket, some snacks, belphie cuddled up next to you) or the beach (with an umbrella to keep the sun out of his eyes) are your best bets to get belphie out of the hotel

secretly has a lot of fun, and is happy he managed to stay awake for most of the vacation- bc seeing you enjoy yourself is worth every second!

"I'm not going unless you put it on." Belphegor pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. You huff, glancing at the ugly matching tourist shirt he bought you. He was wearing his, snickering evilly. What he didn't expect was for you actually put it on.

"There. Happy? Let's go now." Belphie stares at you for a minute, before bursting out into laughter. You're beginning to get annoyed- you're about to just throw him over your shoulder and force him to come with you.

"Wow, that shirt really is ugly. Okay, okay, we don't have to wear it no-"

"Too late." You say, surprisingly both himself and yourself by picking him up and carrying him out of the hotel room. "We get to match now." His eyes widen and he begins thrashing in your arms like a feral cat. Whatever, it'll be dark out anyways, no one will see you two wearing the ugliest damn shirts ever.

﹙ ✿ ﹚thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

#obey me x reader #omswd x reader #om x reader #obey me imagines #omswd imagines #om imagines #obey me headcanons #omswd headcanons #om headcanons #omswd fluff #obey me fluff #om fluff #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

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sant-riley · 8 months

Note

AAAAAAA IDEAAAAAAAAAH

Hi! I'm new here! I've come to bombard you with the idea of a parent of the reader's(most likely dad) showing up to the base out of nowhere.

Secret admirer,

-🐍

Omg I have my first ever emoji anon, Hi!! And yes absolutely I love this. I'm gonna try and be neutral with the parent in question so it's open to anyone :)

P.S idk how I used to format this shit I'm not checking Lmfao

[Task force 141 reacting to your parent/s showing up out of nowhere to visit]

If we're taking into account that this Simon and the og Simon have the same backstory,, its safe to say he doesn't have fond memories of his dad, though he has some for his mother.

Depending on your relationship between you and your parent/s, Ghost is either gonna point blank tell them they're not welcomed here. While Price IS above him, he isn't afraid to pull the intimidation and rank card to get them to get the hell out of there. Ghost was abused by his dad, God fucking forbid you were EVER treated poorly and he finds out.

However, even if your parent is kind, he still is uncomfortable by them being there. It makes his chest feel heavy watching you interact and it just brings up bitter memories he much rather not think of, so he won't linger around and instead go to the gun range and wait it out. He cares for you, and unfortunately, it won't ever really transfer over to your parents. Best he'd do is a stern nod and be on his way.

Soap, however, is very happy to introduce themselves and your parent swoons over his accent and likes him immediately, even if they're not the greatest of parents, Soap will make it a point to put his best foot forward and ask them if they'd want a tour.

If your mom is present she immediately likes him and isn't afraid to give you a look with an eyebrow raise saying "why aren't you dating him?". Don't get me wrong, though. He's not afraid to make smart comments and then joke it off. He's protective but not in your face kinda way.

He's definitely the type to sigh with relief when they're gone, complaining about small things he disliked about them to you openly (a lil bit of a hater but his mom raised him to not be rude to his elders okay.)

Doesn't matter who your parents are, Price intimidates them. He's the captain, and from what you've told them, he is extremely good at his job and he's a no nonsense leader, but you also mention that he's kind and he'd never leave one of his own behind.

Price talks EXTREMELY highly of you, he isn't afraid to clasp a hand on your shoulder and smile that stupid smile of his while he looks down at you in admiration.

It'd be most likely that he himself would have invited your parents without your know how, he has the ties and the authority but trust and believe if you expressed any discomfort with it, he'd rectify it and send them on their way.

Your parents may not like how particularly you close you are with such an older man but it's obvious he cares so much for you and your safety, so they take peace in that.

Gaz is probably the most easy going out of the 4, casually making conversation and if your parents are the type to play match maker, he's their #1 choice I'm not sorry, it's the truth.

Gaz sings your praises, mentioning time and time again that you've been such a good help on base and a good comrade and friend and he will thank your parents for raising you. (Imagine him taking off his hat and holding it to his chest or tipping it what if I swooned)

You KNOW he's invited to family dinners if he's ever in the area, or if he has no plans for the holidays, he's welcome at the family home. (You tell him later that he doesn't need to feel pressured but he just ruffles your hair and asks what kind of alcohol your family prefers)

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mr-styles · 10 months

Text

"I will remember this evening and all of this for the rest of my life.

Thank you for letting me be a part of this. Thank you for being amazing. Thank you for everything.

I have people here tonight who have supported me in so many ways over the past 13 years in which you can only imagine. I would not be on this stage without them and their love and support.

My family are here tonight. My friends are here tonight. Thank you for my family! I was doing so well! Thank you for the support. Thank you for loving me the way that you have. My friends are here tonight: thank you for having my back, always. I love you all so much - thank you. I have a lot of things to feel incredibly lucky for in life, but I feel the luckiest with my friends' support. It allows me to do this. I am so full right now: I have never been happier in my entire life.

Secondly [faces band] - to you all. Thank you so much for doing this with me. That you trust me. Thank you for giving your time, your energy - this show is what it is because of everything you've done every night.

The last two years of my life....the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for. It has been an honour playing for the most wonderful, emotionally generous group of people. The future that I see standing before me. I don't get to do this if you guys don't come - thank you for being here to nigh. I know you want to make it special for me, but you make it special every night. Whatever this feeling is that you feel in this crowd tonight, I feel it. What you create together is the most inspiring thing I've ever seen in my life. The atmosphere you have created, the family you have created - the safe space you have created.

Thank you for everything. I know feeling so incredibly small in this world can be really, really difficult sometimes but you can do anything. I see it all the time in the little things you do, the way you treat each other in the crowd.

I see it - the love - in how its affected all the people around me. Continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour. It doesn't end when this tour ends. Put some love into the world: it really needs it right now. I love you and I'll miss you.

Not only have you changed my life, you have made me the happiest. I am so thrilled. I am so happy. There's lots of emotions tonight - it's been a long time and I just wanna thank you very seriously for what this has been to me. You've changed my life.

None of you are alone. Look around. Look at how many people there are here. We're all the same. I love you. Thank you so, so much."

#harry styles #love on tour

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in1-nutshell · 5 months

Note

I want to request for Buddy to be a Shatter glass Megatron long lost twin but has the original Megatron personality, i understand if you don't want to tho.

Ooooh! Haven't done one of these before! My knowledge of the Shattered Glass universe is a bit rusty, but I think this ended up pretty good for the knowledge. I did only 3 mechs this time around since these were the best I knew. Let me know if this isn't what you wanted.

Hope you enjoy!

Con’s reaction to Megatron’s twin with OG Megatron’s personality

SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

SG!

Megatron

He loves Twin really.

But sometimes he worries about his more… physical side. It’s a bit rougher than what he’d like it, but its perfect for the battle ahead.

“We need a plan!”--Starscream

“Anyone have any ideas?”--Megatron

Twin raising his servo.

“One that doesn’t involve with a frontal attack.”--Megatron

Twin lowers his servo.

Without a doubt Twin is one of the best fighters in his army. An excellent strategist on most days. But sometimes when things get a little too heated, the lines tend to blur.

Twin raising their mace over Sideswipe helm.

“Wait! Stop! He’s on our side!”--Megatron

“And how do you know that?”--Twin

“I was left for dead by the Autobots. I gave you the attack plans yesterday?!”--Sideswipe

“Oh… Now I remember. Sorry Sideswipe, please let me help you back to the medbay.”--Twin

“… Spinister and Bombshell aren’t going to like this.”--Sideswipe

“… I know…” –Twin

Which leads to a question many Decepticons had asked.

Why wasn’t Twin second in Command?

It was a simple answer. He didn’t want to be second in Command. He was a soldier and would follow Megatron and his superiors into battle without hesitation.

Megatron misses the days when they would just listen to Twins poetry and manifestos about the corrupt government. A part of him which was now buried under years of pain and suffering from this blasted war.

He is glad that his twin remained loyal to the Decepticon cause and did not move to the power hungry Autobot side.

Megatron has had multiple spark attacks as Twin will fight any of his greatest enemies on sight. No joke.

“It’s over Megatron. Time to meet your—”—Optimus Prime

“OPTIMUS!”--Twin

“Stay back!”--Megatron

“STAY THE PIT AWAY FROM MY BROTHER, YOU SPAWN OF A—”--Twin

“Finally, a real fight.”--Optimus

Starscream

They both met when the war was starting. Megatron himself gave him the introduction, which was interesting.

“Starscream, this is Twin, he is my brother.”--Megatron

“Hello.”--Twin

“Well hello to you too. I look forward in working with you and the others.”—Starscream

“Likewise, Starscream.”--Twin

Despite some clash in morals and personality, the two worked well. Starscream had told him many tales of him and Skyfire before the war had happened. Twin is protective of Starscream after hearing how Starscream was nearly captured. It is on sight if Twin ever sees Skyfire.

“Skyfire, please reconsider!”--Starscream

“Enough traitor!”--Skyfire

“You’re the traitor!”--Starscream

“AND I’M YOU’RE EXECUTIONER!”--Twin

“AHHH!”--Skyfire

“BUDDY STOP! WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS!”--Starscream

Yes, they do argue, but it never escalates too much. Twin protects his friend.

Soundwave

They met through Megatron on a tour of their new base.

“Soundwave, this is my brother.”--Megatron

“Oh, Hi there! It’s nice to meet you! Wow you too look a like but I’m getting a different vibe from you than Megatron. How was the say? Looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill you? No, looks like they can kill you but is a cinnamon roll. Oh—I’m rambling again. Sorry about that, sometimes I do—”--Soundwave

Inside Twin’s helm

‘I’m going to befriend this mech so hard.’

He still doesn’t know if this was a good idea or not. Twin knows things just as quickly as Megatron because they are so close.

Twin sometimes looks after the cassettes if Soundwave needs to be somewhere else.

It’s rare but it happens.

“Hey, I’m bac—What happened here?”--Soundwave

Twin laying down with the mini’s napping all over his frame.

“This is how I die… leave me here.”--Twin

Like Starscream, soundwave has told twin about Blaster. And like Skyfire, it is on sight for Blaster.

Twin is fiercely protectively over his friends.

“Its current time you second class scum!”--Blaster

“That’s what you think!”--Soundwave

“That’s what I know. You ain’t got no cassettes and you’re weapons jammed. What else do—”--Blaster

SMASH!

“BLASTER!”--Twin

“I’m outta here!”--Blaster

“GET BACK HERE YOU, SORRY EXCUSE OF A BOOMBOX!”--Twin

“Hey now, we’ve talked about the deep breathing exercises. Come on 1,2,3..”--Soundwave

“… 4,5,6…”--Twin

He does agree too much with the levels of violence Twin can get to, and there have been arguments about this. It usually gets resolved quickly though.

Faster than the others fight.

Has accidentally read his thoughts on the inner poet inside. Soundwave actively tries to get Twin to pick back the hobby. They sometimes share their hobbies on slower days.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers shattered glass #maccadam #bot buddy #transformers shattered glass x platonic reader

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 2 months

Text

to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!

word count: almost 2000!!!

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.

inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you.

So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another.

Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”

Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!”

“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.

“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!”

Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.

You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”

“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly.

“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”

Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”

Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”

You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said.

“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.

“I-I don’t-”

Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage. “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!”

You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.

“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.

MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy.

One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.

As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.

Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you.

Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.

Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard.

You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright.

Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now?

The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed.

As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?”

It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.”

Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.

Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”

You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!”

A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”

“Finally someone said it!”

“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”

Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.

Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it.

Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.”

You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.

“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.

As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”

“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.

“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.”

Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.

“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.

“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.

Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”

Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away.

Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.

The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.

#julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #julien baker fanfic #julien baker fluff #jj writes #julien baker one shot #julien baker au #julien baker x singer!reader #julien baker x lacy!reader #muna x reader #julien baker angst

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omar-bb · 11 days

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notes & quotes from omar's live today

he wanted to release Red Light sooner but he and his team wanted to get it right

he's excited to headline at Gröna Lund - gonna be playing a new song there and at his other shows this summer!

"one of my favorite songs. i'm telling you, you will fucking choke when you hear that one. it's dark, it's dirty, it's groovy..."

"should I leak some of it? it would be fun for you to be able to sing along..."

"i hope it's fine by my team that I just leaked that"

"maybe it'll be the next single after Red Light. only maybe. I'm not promising anything"

someone asked about an Asia tour - "I cannot be live bc I'm gonna leak a lot of shit. But you wanna know something funny? This song .... it is actually a k-pop pitch song from start. it was made with k-pop in mind. it is not fully k-pop and now that i've been doing my touch on it, it is a little less k-pop but.. they actually wrote the song k-pop in mind."

teased doing a tour in the future

another "leak" - "I was actually meant to go to korea like right now or a month ago, like after the oscars ... i was supposed to go to korea. but it never happened. i was very sad. but maybe one day.

he had a scared moment where music started playing in the other room and he thought it was an unreleased song but it was just his alejandro tiktok lol

inspo for red light? "I didn't write the song ... it was a demo that got sent to me. at first ... it was a girl singing red light, and when i heard it the first time i was like yo this sounds like fucking rihanna ... i was like is this a long lost rihanna song? this is the greatest thing i've ever heard. and then i just fucking took it. i was like this is my song before rihanna takes it from me. and now it's my song."

Red Light music video when? "we shot a visualizer, so it's not a music video ... it's very beautiful. very stunning. i've never done anything like that. ... it's not a real music video. it's more visuals for the song."

will be doing red light on 25 may and also a new song

"you'll hear a whole new omar when you hear that song"

he has been replying to messages in his community on whatsapp and sms. they'll be leaking more stuff through there

new OMR Beauty product when? "....................... stay tuned"

"you will die when you see the next launch of OMR Beauty. that's all I'm saying. Next!!!"

will he start a fashion brand? "i don't really have the time for that unfortunately. ... not for now"

thinks he is not gonna bleach his hair

Someone asked red light spanish version when? and he sang a bit of it in spanish

omar backflip when? "when i'm in heaven"

is he going to act again?"i'm actually reading some scripts right now. just reading, it's not anything happening really yet, just testing the waters. we'll see, i would love to act. i actually miss acting, it was a fun time ... nothing will ever be like YR obviously, but just the thought of meeting new ppl, new friends, being together for a few weeks or a few months, and filming smth very special, that would be so much fun. ... i'm actually reading a really cool script right now" but more focusing on music right now

he has 40-50 new songs from the last year apparently??? Maybe i misunderstood this

album when? "don't know, we'll see" - he has a lot of songs and could drop an album but he wants it to be perfect so it'll be awhile

there will be red light merch this summer

he and edvin hang out sometimes

not doing Rix FM this year

there will not be 12 red light remixes lol "but maybe a few"

Eurovision 2025? "absolutely not. sorry not sorry." something about always being thrown out of the competition

he's stopped drinking coffee regularly and drinks matcha instead

someone suggested hoemars as the fandom name and he laughed lol

a lot is happening in May he says !! "y'all better eat good, sleep well" lolol

he said he might do another live next week once Red Light is out

#finally caught one of these!!!!#he's so funny #no word on the project with edvin #omar live on tiktok #omar on tiktok #omar rudberg

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blessedwithabadomen · 1 month

Text

in love with the mess - day twelve

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, some degradation), angst, fluff, Yungblug appearance lol

length : 8.3k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny

a/n : time to find out what you've been craving to know for a week! enjoy and leave a comment 💕💕

•••

day twelve

Spending the whole night talking after an exhausting show, knowing fully well we had an early bus call, a four-hour drive to London, soundcheck and another show, wasn’t the wisest decision Oli and I had ever made, but it was a completely necessary one.

It started with a lot of confusion and reassurances that I’d heard correctly.

“Say that again,” I whispered. I didn’t care that he was still inside of me or that our sweaty bodies were sticking together or that my thighs were in danger of cramping as they wrapped around him that little bit tighter. Right now, it was just Oli, his eyes, more beautiful than I’d ever seen them, and those words hanging between us. “Please.”

“I love you, Aubrey,” he repeated. Something in his face changed. Like a weight being lifted. Like there was a new lightness in his being from having said those words out loud. He was earnest. Everything about him screamed honesty. But believing it was another thing. After pining for him for so long. After wondering whether I should let him know about my feelings just this morning.

“You mean that?” I asked, unable to keep the worry to myself. I needed to know. If not now, I’d question it forever. “You’re not just saying that because you just came in me, right?”

“Fucking hell, Aubrey,” Oli laughed. Taking hold of my thighs, he removed them from his waist, then pulled out slowly, discarding the condom. He didn’t hand me a tissue or a wipe but I couldn’t care less about possibly leaking on his sheets. There were more important things. When he lied down next to me, his hands found my body again, holding me close, bringing our foreheads together once more. “I didn’t mean to tell you that way, yeah? But I mean it. I might as well admit it now. I love you.”

I was convinced I was going to wake up from this dream any minute now. Things like these didn’t happen. Wishes didn’t come true like this. But Oli felt nothing short of real in my arms.

“Again,” I demanded.

“I love you.”

I had to bask in the delight for a while. Giggles and smiles and soft kisses peppered all over his face followed. Then, more questions.

“How long have you known?” I whispered, still, as if we were discussing a secret that was just ours, just for now, before the rest of the world was allowed to listen in. Now that the seal on his secret was broken though, I wanted to learn every single thing about it.

“Well, once upon a time, many, many years ago, I entered my tour bus and the first thing I laid my eyes across was the greatest ass in the world in the tiniest pair of hot pants sticking out from my bunk because someone had gotten mixed up on where they were supposed to sleep-”

Oli avoided the playful slap coming his way, catching onto my wrist and pressing a kiss on it before letting go again. I could feel him smile on my skin.

“You absolutely did not fall in love with me from seeing my ass before you saw my face.”

He sighed in mock annoyance. “You’re really going to make me go all sappy here, aren’t you.”

“I’m not letting you out of this bed until you do.”

“That’s not as much of a threat as you think it is.”

I allowed him to press a kiss to my forehead but pulled back quickly. He wasn’t going to get away with not answering, not now. I was desperate for every tiny sliver of truth I could get from him.

“I happened gradually, you know?” Oli explained and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever seen him this serious, this sincere. “I think it’s been in the making for a while. But when we didn’t see each other for, like, a year, it just hit me differently. So me inviting you on this tour might just have been a tad selfish.”

I couldn’t even blame him. Not for this. I knew he hadn’t expected anything of me when he offered to get me a job on this tour. And realistically, none of us could have seen coming what had transpired in the past days. But suddenly I was more thankful than ever for that fateful phonecall just a few months back.

“I’ve been in love for you for a while,” he admitted. “But now I also know that I love you.”

He got buried under a plethora of kisses for that alone.

The kissing distracted us for a while. Every time I looked at him and those eyes that suddenly shone so clearly with love, I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing his face and pulling him close again. It was like a drug whose dosage had just increased tenfold and I wanted more and more and more. Only when he finally separated from me for a moment, his eyes not quite shining the way mine did, did I realise.

“You don’t need to say it back,” he mumbled, stroking my hair in such a delicate manner that I wished I could purr to convey just how perfectly comfortable I was. He was trying to be brave. As if it was okay for him that he’d just bared his soul and I’d simply taken it all with open arms and a smile. As if he didn’t need to hear those words just as badly. That he could accept if I didn’t feel the same.

In reality, I’d simply been so caught up in this utopia that had just opened up for me that I’d not even noticed I hadn’t said it. Those three words that had been swimming in my brain for longer than I’d consciously been aware of.

“Oli,” I whispered, laying both of my hands on his cheeks so I could direct his face back toward me. I needed to make sure he was looking at me, really looking at me. I knew he would have trouble believing it otherwise. “Oliver. I love you.”

“Are you-”

“Yes. I love you. And I’ll tell you a thousand times if you let me. I’ve been thinking about telling you I’m in love with you so many times, you have no idea. Just going over it in my head again and again. I was so scared to say it and ruin everything. But if I’m being honest with myself, I couldn’t have held it in for much longer. You simply had the guts to say it first.”

“Aubrey-”

“No. Shush. I love you.”

I couldn’t tell how many times we repeated those words to each other. Neither of us seemed to be quite able to grasp the novelty of the situation. How everything between us had changed now, officially. No more backing away. No pretending that we were just having fun, no strange friends-with-benefits situation that kept crossing lines. It was terrifying as much as it was absolutely exhilarating.

When night slowly started giving way to morning though, our ridiculous happiness experienced a bit of a damper. It wasn’t just the fact that a new day was starting, throwing us into new chaos and questions on how to navigate whatever we now were. It was also the knowledge that this mess didn’t just include the two of us.

“What about Noah?” I unhelpfully threw in. I didn’t even know where to start that discussion. I didn’t even know what needed to be discussed after all.

“I don’t… I don’t want to stop. Whatever we’re doing with him. It’s just…”

“Me neither.”

A sigh rattled through Oli’s chest, so deep and full of worries that I couldn’t help pulling him a little closer, as if that would alleviate his stress or somehow make the situation better.

“I’m not sure what I want. In the long term.”

I let the silence fall for a moment. He was so deep in thoughts I almost felt bad about pulling him back to reality. But he was in danger of going into overthinking territory again.

“Do you know what you feel for him?”

Maybe it was the darkness embracing us that made it a little easier for Oli to talk about it. Maybe it was the euphoria still coursing through his veins. Maybe we’d managed to elevate outselves to a new level of trust between us.

“I think…” He paused for a moment. I didn’t say anything. I simply allowed him to take the time to sort his thoughts as much as he was able to. “I think I know. Somehow. I’m just not sure if I can put it in words yet. And Noah…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. Even if he hadn’t said it out loud, I had an idea of where his train of thought was taking him. “He’s… I think he needs some more time.”

“Do we tell him?”

“Tell him what? That we said ‘I love you’ to each other?”

“That you’re my girlfriend.”

The blush came so abruptly and with such heat, even before I’d fully registered his words. Suddenly, my heart was beating with the insane intensity of being in love once again. I didn’t know if I wanted to throw up or laugh until my body gave up, just to alleviate the feeling.

“Am I?” I giggled, much more high-pitched than I usually sounded, but my voice was beyond control. “Is that what we are now? Girlfriend and boyfriend?”

“Fuck off,” he exclaimed, but he was sporting a smile so big I could see his sharp canines. In an instant, his hands moved, suddenly tickling my stomach and all I could do was cry out attempts of ‘no’ and ‘stop’ while gasping for air and struggling to get away. “This is not funny.”

He was laughing out loud anyway. When he stopped, fingers still hovering in dangerous places, my breathing quick and hectic, he stared down at me with a grin.

“Say you’ll be my girl or I’ll keep this up until bus call.”

I had no fight in me and no energy to survive another attack.

“I already am. I’m your girl, Oli.”

I could have stayed in our little bubble of love forever, doing nothing but staring at Oli and reminding myself that this was real. That he loved me. That he wanted me. Even with the nagging feeling in both of our beings that we hadn’t quite figured it out yet. Not with the third puzzle piece missing.

I wondered how Noah’s night had been. If the guys had managed to talk to him. How he felt. If his bed had seemed as empty as ours.

The ever-increasing alarm on my phone, still somewhere in a bag in Oli’s living room but rising in crescendo to the point where we easily heard it still, reminded me that I was waiting for some sort of information from Nicky. It was enough motivation to get up and get ready for the day. Just about.

Kicking Oli out of bed with me (under loud protest about his lack of sleep which I really couldn’t undo), I quickly made my way to my phone, caring much less about being completely naked than the sound that was starting to grind my gears. Two messages were waiting for me. I swiped away the one from my roommate, who unfortunately now possessed my number after I’d called her, deciding that her question about when I’d pick up my stuff could wait another day. The other one was more interesting anyway.

Unknown number Barely got anything out of Noah last night but I think he’s open to talk to you if you have some time. Maybe hop on our bus for the ride to London? I’d made sure the two of you get some space. Let me know so we don’t drive off without you. Nicholas Ruffilo

I chuckled at the way he signed the goddamn text with his whole name as if this was a business transaction, then added his number to my phone.

“Oli!” I shouted for him. His head poked around the corner almost immediately. “Mind if I drive to London with Bad Omens? Nicholas said Noah might talk.”

“You’re my girl for, what, four hours and you already leave me for another band!” He exclaimed, approaching me with long strides, hands immediately on my bare ass. He had only just managed to put on a pair of clean boxershorts and I repaid the gesture by letting my fingers trail down his chest. “Unbelievable.”

“I’ll make sure to make it up to you when we get there.” My fingers ghosted over his bulge, just for a second, before I pulled away completely. As much as I wanted to play him, I knew we had no time and several people waiting for us. “You can decide how.”

“That’ll do,” he chuckled, pulling me in for a kiss so bruising and passionate it almost knocked me off my feet. “I kind of need to run an errand before bus call anyway.”

“An errand?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you a cab to drop you off there and then I’ll see you in London, yeah?”

I worried about it immensely but there was no chance he was going to tell me anything so I nodded instead. I needed to get dressed and leave soon anyway if I was going to make it on time. Oli had already pressed his phone to his ear, the ringing loud enough for me to hear, but even with the other person picking up any minute, he couldn’t seem to help himself as he started at me and mouthed another I love you.

I couldn’t blame him. I wanted to tell him the same words for the rest of my life.

•••

Nick greeted me with a hug when I found him in the car park which felt new but not entirely unwelcome. He looked pretty fresh and awake which I took as a good sign. I hoped it would mean no one got terribly drunk last night. And that it ended on a good note, without any fights or insane stress to either party of the band.

“How was last night then? And this is not a small-talk question.”

Nick chuckled as he let me through the parked cars and busses. “Not terrible, which seems like a win. We let him know we were worried about him and he basically apologised which was unnecessary. There’s… a lot going on in his brain I think. But toward the end of the night he kept babbling about how he just wanted to talk to you, again and again.”

Nick caught my worried look immediately as we came to a half in front of the bus.

“He wasn’t drunk, don’t worry. He had like, two beers. I think he was just overly tired and… well, stressed. We got him into bed as early as possible but he’s a bit beat with the early start.”

“I think we all are,” I laughed, more to myself than anything else. I’d not gotten a single minute of sleep after Oli’s confession and neither had he. Which was why he was under strict instructions to spend the drive sleeping to at least have some sort of energy for tonight. I didn’t need to be responsible for him falling asleep on stage.

Nick agreed with a smile, unlocking the door. I was halfway to entering the bus when his hand on my arm stopped me.

“I think you could be good for him, you know. Both of you.”

I willed the blush to keep at bay. “Even Oli?”

Nick laughed, loudly bur earnestly. “Even Oli.”

•••

I found Noah in the lounge at the back, on his own, playing with his phone. He seemed surprised to see me there for a split second but then opened up his arms in a silent plea for comfort. Who was I to deny him. Leaving my bag right where I stood, I walked up to him, dropping down on the couch and pulling him into my arms. If they were anywhere close to being a safe place for him as his and Oli’s arms were for me, it was truly the least I could do.

He was so warm and comfortable against me that I silently hoped we would stay like this all the way until London. The motor of the bus had started, rumbling through the whole vehicle as we exited the car park, and I had to fight against the monotone lull that threatened to make me fall asleep. I wanted to talk to Noah first. Even if my eyelids were heavily protesting.

“Did you have fun with the guys last night?” I carefully asked.

Noah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he proceeded to sink lower and lower, shuffle in his seat until he was basically horizontal, and then put his head in my lap. I slid a little further as well, trying to make my thighs a comfortable pillow for him, and started combing through his hair with my fingers. I figured he was a little bit like Oli - even if he was ready to talk, sometimes it was simply easier to do so without having to look at the other person.

“I missed you,” he mumbled. “And Oli.”

“That’s very sweet, but not answering my question,” I chuckled, enjoying the softness of his strands on my palm. “I hope they didn’t stress you out too much?”

“No.” A sigh. “If anything I’ve been stressing them out. I’ve been a little irate with them for no good reason.”

“Disregarding your judgement of it, there was a reason for it though, right?”

“I guess so.”

I poked his shoulder, unsatisfied with the answer, which took him by surprise because he twitched so heavily that he almost rolled off my lap and the couch. I slung one of my arms around his middle, keeping him in position.

“I’ve just been thinking about what we’re doing, a lot,” he admitted. “And every time the guys teased me about some shit regarding you or Oli, it just hit a nerve because I wasn’t figuring it out and it reminded me of the fact that I had no idea where this was going. I shouldn’t have taken my moods out on them.”

“I think they understand.”

“I think they can’t risk losing their frontman,” Noah commented, but even he couldn’t stay serious at the idea, a light and airy giggle erupting his throat that I couldn’t help but join. “I apologized to them. And I’ll make sure to… talk to people instead of figuring it out on my own. And tell them if they’re crossing my boundaries.”

“Well done, Noah.” I grabbed one of his hands, briefly bringing it up to my mouth to press a kiss on it before dropping it again, then resumed to comb through his hair. “Have you… have your figured out some stuff, though? About… about what you want? I know we had that talk in the pub a while ago where we agreed on just fun but…”

I let the question linger in the air. Truth be told, I was terrified of being any more direct. Of asking him straight out. I had literally just figured some things out with Oli mere hours before, now I was in the eye of the storm of another deeply emotional conversation and it left me exhausted and on edge. The idea of being the first one to speak up about what I was feeling proved to be a little too much right now.

“I lied.”

The short statement caught me off guard. I didn’t realise the hand in his hair had stilled until he patted at it with his own, trying to get me to continue. Only when I did, did he resume speaking.

“I lied when I said that. I… I never really wanted to just have fun. But the idea of anything more than that terrifies me.”

I wanted to ask him if it wasn’t a bit late for that. If he thought going out on dates, spending day and night with us, learning all about each other, sharing so much more than kisses still meant he was in safe territory. If he believed that he could be in the middle of this without catching feelings. But I didn’t.

“What is it about it that terrifies you?” I asked instead.

“What doesn’t.”

The urgency to prod further, force him to explain was burning inside of me, but I knew it wasn’t fair. Noah was already being more honest with me than he had been in days. The least I could do was have some more patience.

“I think I need some more time,” he finally said. “I want- I want to figure this out. Can you give me some time? All these new things in my head at the moment. I’d never even kissed a man before and now-”

“Now what, Noah? You can say it, you know. I won’t judge.”

“Now I can’t stop thinking about being on my knees for him all the time and letting him do whatever he wants with me.”

The heat between my legs erupted as suddenly as it did forcefully. Whatever I had expected, it wasn’t a confession of this sort. Of this level of honesty. And now that the idea was planted in my head, I knew I’d have the utmost trouble thinking about anything else.

But this wasn’t about me and my arousal, not right now.

“I’m pretty sure Oli would love to do that for you, darling. All you have to do is ask.”

“Maybe you could tell him,” he replied, so quietly I was barely sure I’d heard it at all. “And… and I’d like you to be there too.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want? For me to tell Oli to do you however he pleases? That you… want to be a good boy for him? Be told what to do? And you’d let me watch, too? Maybe get a little involved?”

He squirmed a little underneath my hands, but ultimately nodded.

“I’ll let him know, love. We have a lot of time tomorrow before the show. A lot of time to explore whatever you want, okay? Maybe…” I took a deep breath. “Maybe it’ll help you figure out what you want a little more.”

I could only pray it would.

•••

“Do you know if Dom’s here yet?”

Oli was walking half next to me, half behind me as I made my way onto the floor of the arena, awkwardly trying to rub my sore neck that had been through hell after accidentally falling asleep on the bus with Noah for… a while. I shook him off when Becky waved me in to the sound booth, feeling strangely awkward about his public display of affection when we hadn’t quite told anyone about this new development in our relationship.

It was weird, really. Just yesterday, I wouldn’t have minded, knowing that people would talk and gossip if they wanted either way. Now that I knew he loved me, wanted me to be his and that we hadn’t let Noah, who was fumbling around with his mic on stage, know anything about it yet, I felt a lot more nervous about how everything could be interpreted.

“Who’s Dom?”

“Dominic Harrison. Yungblud.”

“Right,” I sighed. Apparently my brain was so full of questions about my bloody love life that I’d completely forgotten about the fact that Oli was going to perform Obey with him today. I attempted to visualise the agenda I’d double-checked just before, knowing Oli would have to fend for himself a little more now that I was helping Becky out. “No, not as far as I know. He’s scheduled to come in for soundcheck.”

“Ah, boring,” Oli complained. “Well, I’ll leave you to… whatever you two need to be doing here then.”

“Wait,” I called after him after he had already turned away. “What was that errand about? Everything go alright?”

“Everything went perfectly. You’ll find out later.”

He left me with a smug look on his face and an undefinable feeling in my stomach. Asshole. He knew very well I was going to be thinking about this for the foreseeable future.

At least work actually distracted me sufficiently enough that it wasn’t quite as torturous. Becky did her best to dumb down everything she was explaining to me to a level that my brain could at least somewhat process and I was very thankful for it. I could tell she wanted to throw all the technical jargon at me, but that would have simply ended up in even more chaos. It didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to learn - anytime we had a small break in between things that actually needed immediate attention, she explained every single step, every decision, every reasoning behind it in as much detail as she could and I soaked it all up like a sponge.

We successfully made it through Bad Omens’ soundcheck with minimal problems. Bring Me The Horizon went almost as perfectly, minus the fact that we now had to adjust Dom’s mic as well and Dom was so bloody excited about everything that he kept ignoring our questions and orders alike. Him and Oli were an explosive combination, but Oli looked so ridiculously happy that I couldn’t even be mad at them for slacking off.

“Alright, we’re done here for now,” Becky announced after we’d finally, somehow, managed to get both Dom and Oli in check enough to make sure they’d sound perfect on stage later. “You can take the next two hours off and then I’ll meet you back here?”

“Sounds perfect. Actually, I could very much do with a nap, maybe-”

“Aubrey!” Oli’s voice cut through the whole arena now that it was mostly quiet again. “Dinner with Dom and Noah! Come!”

I turned back to Becky with a sigh.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.”

•••

If I’d thought having dinner at our hotel right next to the arena meant that we might finish quickly enough and give me time for some shut eye, I was solely mistaken. Noah and Oli were quite chaotic as it was - but with Dom added into the mix, I was surprised we didn’t get kicked out for the ruckus caused. Every now and then, Dom and Oli would get into ridiculously specific anecdotes from their respective hometowns, their accents growing thicker and thicker until all Noah could do was stare at them in utter confusion and amazement.

“So, who here is fucking because I’m getting mad sexual energy from all of you guys.”

On top of it, he seriously lacked a filter. I watched Noah closely, waiting for the awkward blush to appear on his face, but it didn’t happen. He looked mildly uncomfortable at worst and he was definitely not going to be the one to speak up, but it was a world’s different to the last time someone had insinuated the three of us were more than friends.

Oli, on the other hand, was more comfortable than ever. Maybe it was that Dom was a close friend and he simply didn’t mind sharing with him. Maybe it was down to the fact that at least he and I had gotten closer to officially defining our relationship. I embraced it either way.

“Can you blame me? Look at these two!”

Now it was my turn to blush, caused entirely by the way Dom was eyeing me up and down, one eyebrow raised suggestively, the look in his eyes unmistakable. He gave Noah the same treatment which simply ended up with him fixating very hard on what was left on his plate, randomly shuffling some food around, just to avoid the stare. Apparently, Oli treating him like eye candy was one thing, an essential stranger a very different one.

“It’s pretty hard to escape Oli’s charms,” I mused, playfully kicking him under the table.

“Is that what you call his dick?”

Oli erupted in laughter as Noah sank deeper into his plate, but even that didn’t fully hide the grin emerging on his face. “Fucking hell, Dom, I’m gonna have to pay off the waitress to keep quiet if you don’t stop shouting through the place.”

“What, you didn’t do that before I came? Bad planning on your part, pal,” Dom chuckled, heavily hitting Oli’s shoulder. “Right, gimme the details though. You three hooking up or are we talking something more? Because you know I love me a good threesome. For sex and anything else. From experience.”

“Wait, you’ve been in poly relationships?” I couldn’t help but ask. I’d never personally had the chance to meet Dom, so most of my knowledge came from interviews or social media or whatever escapade Oli decided to tell me about. This was new.

“Sure! The more the merrier, I say! Well, up to a point, after that you just kinda lose track, ya know?”

“Was jealousy ever a problem?” Noah spoke up out of nowhere. He’d been so quiet I’d almost forgotten he was part of this conversation at all. And now he wasn’t just joining it but posing relevant questions. It was hard to keep my mind at bay when it came to the possible implications of it.

“In which way?” Dom asked, suddenly more serious than he had been all day. As if knew how badly Noah might need some answers. Some clarifications. Some reassurance. I didn’t want to be too hopeful, but it seemed like a good sign.

“What if…” He swallowed, hard, as if on the edge of pulling back, making a stupid joke, get his shield back up so we wouldn’t see his vulnerable side. So we wouldn’t know. But, to my utmost surprise, he didn’t. “What if there’s just a different familiarity between two of them because… because they’ve known each other longer and they live closer together and… yeah.”

Oli really didn’t need to kick me but he still did, as if there was any chance in hell I’d not understood what exactly Noah was referring to. I tried desperately to make sense of it before Dom would start speaking again. Did this mean he actually wanted this? Us? Were the insecurities holding him back? Did he think he wouldn’t be a full part of this relationship if he agreed to it? That Oli and I, somehow, had something between us he’d never get to the level of? I had a million things to say but I knew it wasn’t my turn.

“Nah mate, you gotta let go of that kinda thinking,” Dom said. He had pushed his plate away and was now leaning on his elbows, on the table, staring at Noah so intently that the latter had no choice but to listen. “History doesn’t matter like that when you get into a relationship and neither does distance. So what if they’ve known each other for years? Unless you’re joining an existent romantic relationship, this is new for all of you and you gotta figure out how the three of you work together.”

Noah nodded, gravely, before going back to playing with the scraps on his plate, as Oli and I exchanged worried looks. Or were they hopeful? It was hard to differentiate all the emotions coursing through me. I wanted to know more, figure out what else had been plaguing Noah’s mind, but it was clear his moment of bravery had run out.

“Any more tips for the newly polyamorous then?” Oli asked with a giggle in his voice. Noah briefly looked back up at him with something akin to shock but hid it quickly enough that I wasn’t sure if anyone but me had noticed at all.

“Get to know each other as much as you can and never take anyone for granted. Make the distance work for you. Get everyone as involved as you can, but remember that when someone feels left out because of things like being far away, it’s not a matter of the other two loving them any less.”

“I think that’s the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say, mate,” Oli laughed, causing a ripple of chuckles around the table as the tension fell off.

“And it’s gonna stay the wisest thing I’ll say tonight because as soon as I’m off that stage, I’ll get myself drunk, watch me.”

“Dom, you’ve already had two drinks,” I remarked, pointing at the empty glasses on the table.

“I never said I was staying sober until then.”

•••

The show went more than well. I had less time than ever to actually watch what the bands were doing on stage and just get myself lost in it, but now it felt like being involved, being part of it, in a whole different way. I was trying hard to keep up with Becky and her orders, but she kept enough of an eye on me that any mistakes were quickly spotted and fixed. It felt exhilarating. Even more so when I got showered in praise about how well I’d done for essentially my first ever life show afterwards.

Understandably, I was riding a high when I was picking up my stuff backstage, trying to figure out where everyone was. My phone quickly answered the question.

Oli You got a key to my room? Come round Got a surprise

Suspicious. Suspicious as hell, actually. Still, I did have that keycard and I couldn’t resist a good surprise. And with Oli behind it, there was no doubt I was going to like it. The walk to the hotel was quick, as was the ride up to the correct floor. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was expecting. Right now, it could truly be anything from Oli lying naked on his bed with whipped cream all over himself to a cosy movie night with my favourite hot chocolate.

Apparently, the surprise wasn’t a visual one though, because the only thing I saw when I opened the door to his room was Oli and Noah on the couch kissing so softly that it almost made my heart ache. They were fully intertwined, limbs entangled and all over each other and it gave me hope like nothing before ever had. That wasn’t making out or fucking for the fun of it. This was both of them pouring the emotions they couldn’t vocalise just yet into every single movement.

I briefly contemplated leaving, giving them some space and time, but I knew Oli had specifically asked for me and it simply felt too good to be alone with both of them once again. So, instead, I let the door fall back into the frame very, very gently, locking it for good measure. It was enough to get their attention. When they looked in my direction, both of them had glazed eyes and lips they’d kissed red and all I could think about was taking a picture to keep this image in my mind forever.

“Aubrey!” Oli called out, sounding as ecstatic to see me as ever. I was relieved to see Noah send a serene smile my way too. “First things first, your surprise.”

He was on his feet in an instant, rummaging through his bag. I shot Noah a look, but he simply shrugged his shoulders.

When Oli turned around again, his hands were behind his back, hiding whatever he had just located in his luggage.

“I know you’re not a fan of handouts, so I want you to know that this isn’t one, yeah?” Oli explained. “But I wanted to help out and I could, so I did.”

“Oli,” I whined. “Just tell me.”

“Just- before I give it to you, one more thing: This is completely on your terms and you decide how we do this, but… yeah.”

I didn’t immediately realise what I was seeing when Oli opened up his hand to me and revealed the item in his palm. In fact, I spotted the keychain first - the missing, beloved Powerpuff keychain I’d already assumed I would never see again, but here it was being offered back to me, now attached to-

Keys.

A pair of keys.

“Is that-”

“The keys to my place. Again, we can handle this any way you like, we can be roommates, I have a spare room I can empty out or you can just… stay with me. In my bed. And all. Up to you. But you have a place to stay, always. Temporarily until you find something new or… permanently. Okay?”

I wasn’t sure how I managed to let him finish his awkward and slightly jumbled speech before I all but jumped on him, arms wrapped around his neck, hanging on for dear life as I willed the tears to disappear. I buried my face in his shirt, hoping I wouldn’t leave a stain and I whispered words of gratefulness.

It didn’t feel like a handout. Not with him. Not when I knew he wouldn’t do this out of anything but love for me, never pity. And with the words we’d exchanged just that morning, it meant even more.

“Is that the errand you needed to run this morning?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, almost as if a little embarrassed. “I’d been planning to get copies made for you for a while but that was the only time I could fit it in.”

“I can’t believe you had the fucking keychain all along and I almost cried on Lee’s shoulder.”

The kiss I pressed to his lips through my giggles, with so much force that I almost toppled both of us over, said more than I could in words. It was only when I let go of him and caught sight of Noah out of the corner of my eye that I realised how awfully quiet he was. He smiled up at us from where he still sat on the couch, but it wasn’t the honest kind of smile he’d graced us with earlier. It was stilted and forced and I knew exactly why.

Luckily, so did Oli.

“And now, for the sad-looking doe eyes over there.” Oli made a little spectacle out of pulling another pair of keys from his luggage, dangling them in the air like a prized possession. “I really tried to steal your keychain too but it was fucking impossible because I couldn’t figure out where you had it, but you get a set too. If you want. I know you have a place and all that but… You’re welcome at mine any time, no asking or prior notifications needed. It’s yours to turn up to anytime.”

If anything, Noah now looked a little embarrassed, possibly at Oli so easily realising what he was battling with and fixing it so brilliantly. I could just imagine Noah’s head spinning thinking Oli wouldn’t care for him like that, only for him to turn it around completely and proving he had, in fact, thought about this situation long before Noah had even known it would exist.

Noah sheepishly took the keys, letting himself be pulled into another kiss by Oli.

“So pretty when you blush like that,” Oli mused, which only deepend the colour on Noah’s cheeks, but even he had to chuckle then. Another kiss ended up on Noah’s nose, then on mine, and it was so unexpected and unfamiliar that it had all of us erupting in giggles.

It continued like that. There was no need to discuss what we were doing as clothes started dropping on the floor, all of us overly tired but needy and touch-starved and willing to push sleeping just a little further back to finally be reunited as the three of us. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in a while and even though we all knew that there were things left to figure out and things left to say, just for the moment we let ourselves fall into the idea that this could be easy.

The clumsiness that came with it only spurred on the mood, Oli stumbling as he got stuck in his trousers, Noah throwing his own away and then immediately retrieving it to get the condoms from his wallet, neither of them succeeding in unhooking my bra until I swatted their hands away and did it myself.

I kicked my panties off without any further help, fearing we’d risk injury if we continued having any garments at all around us, and crawled up the bed, leaning back on my elbows, watching as Oli pushed Noah down next to me to kiss him again, their growing erections touching and letting moans erupt between them. I silently reminded myself to talk to Oli about what Noah had said earlier. Just seeing them together now manifested my wish to be there when they took their next step, if they let me.

“How about we get our girl here ready for us?” I heard Oli whisper against Noah's lips. “I get her nice and wet on my dick and then you finish her off.”

My breath audibly hitched, much to the amusement of both men next to me. In an instant, Oli moved from Noah to me, hovering over my body but denying me the kiss I was hoping for. Instead, his lips found my neck, leaving little love bites all the way down until they settled on my breast, eagerly lapping at my nipple until I was arching my back toward him, a hand tangled in his hair, quietly gasping for more. I didn't realise Noah was moving until I felt his mouth on my other breast. The pleasure was intense, shooting straight down my body as I wriggle under Oli. Both of them kept switching between sweet licks and kisses and teasing bites until I was sure I could feel the wetness drip from between my legs.

“One day, we'll make you come just from this, but tonight we've got other plans,” Oli grinned, pinching my nipple so hard that I cried out in surprise, briefly taken aback by how much I enjoyed the roughness of it.

I didn't have enough time to think about it when Oli and Noah removed their mouths from me, only for the former to descend on my pussy, leaving long, teasing licks on it before plunging it inside me. My hands immediately flew back to his head, but he only needed to look up and shoot a stare at Noah for the other man to understand. Immediately, my hands were removed, a tight grip on my wrists as Noah lifted them above my head, heavily pressing them into the mattress without any wriggle room.

“Come on, Aubrey, be a good girl for Oli. He's prepping you so nicely for our cocks. Doesn't have to do that, you know? We could just fuck you like this, see how much you stretch around us, how well you take us without any help.” I moaned so loudly at Noah's words that even Oli briefly lifted his head. “You want that, don't you? You want us to push your limits.”

Oli didn't give me a chance to confirm or deny as his strong arms flipped my body over on my front without any effort at all. Noah threw a condom at him, so perfectly in sync that I wondered just how much they had discussed beforehand. Oli pulled my hips up to meet his, his hard cock pressing against my arse while Noah grabbed onto my chin.

“How about you give me that mouth again while Oli fucks you good, hm? And don't you dare come until it's my turn.”

I complied willingly. Oli entered me slowly but in one single stroke until he was fully buried in me and my head dropped at the welcome intrusion, sweat prickling on my skin as I tried to accommodate his size. Noah didn't have any pity on me though as he sat down in front of my face, easily leading my mouth to his dick, forcing me to take it straight away. I moaned around his length as Oli started finding his rhythm.

“Fuck,” Noah moaned as he pushed my down a little further. “I've made some bad decisions but thank fuck they led me right here.”

“Yeah?” Oli piped up from behind me, briefly slowly down. “Some bad, bad decisions, Noah?”

The laugh ripped from my throat so harshly that I accidentally choked on Noah's cock before I freed my mouth, sputtering with giggles.

“Oh, come on,” Noah groaned, absentmindedly petting my head as he shot daggers at Oli.

“I'm just saying, you have a lot more sexy lyrics to choose from. Like the way you fuck, the way you taste and all that.”

I felt another bout of laughter rise up, but Noah obviously thought it was time to stuff my mouth again and pushed me back onto him.

“Why don't you stick to your own lyrics,” he mumbled, already getting distracted again by my tongue running along his length as I willed myself to take a little more every time.

“You know I might,” Oli remarked, resuming a hard rhythm that left me completely at his mercy. “I'm quite partial to I love the way you choke.”

The next thrust was even harsher, forcing me to indeed choke on Noah as Oli was now fully in charge of the way my body moved. Every time he almost pulled out, he dragged me back with him to the point where I barely managed to keep my lips on Noah's tip, then he pushed back in so doing that I came close to deepthroating him.

I loved it.

I loved being brainless, losing all my agency, being treated as nothing more than a little toy for them to play with. It had never been so incredibly obvious to me but I already knew I'd be begging on my knees asking for more soon.

Now, however, Oli was getting close, his moans getting louder and his movements a little sloppier and much too soon he was pulling out, wrecking me away from Noah and pushing me onto my back again. I watched, utterly restless and impatient and empty, as he shed the condom and started stroking himself. I'd expected him to ask to come on me, my tits, maybe my face but instead he was looking at Noah.

With a small nod, their communication completely silent, Noah moved toward him, slowly palming his own erection and within moments, Oli's eyes never leaving his, Oli came, covering Noah's chest and abdomen in beautiful streaks.

Oli fell onto the bed, utterly spent and showcasing a satisfied smile, but Noah was more hungry than ever. Fumbling with the night stand, he made quick work of putting on a condom, hissing at every touch as his thick cock immediately bounced against his stomach as he let go, before roughly spreading my legs and without any further warning pushed into me.

He was rougher than Oli, hovering over me as his arms caged me in, pressing his forehead to mine as he pounded into me so hard that I knew I'd feel sore tomorrow, but I welcomed it with open arms. I could feel the remains of Oli dripping on me, coating us both in it further. I let him push my legs backward, bent at the knees, almost folding me in half and the change of angle almost brought tears to my eyes. He felt even larger like this, moving against every single spot I craved with every thrust.

“Such a good little whore for us, letting both of us fuck you and just taking it all,” Noah groaned roughly. I was close to unravelling. “Can't fucking get enough, can you? Perfect little pussy that's just made for us. Come on, touch yourself, squeeze around me, I wanna feel you.”

It barely took a moment when I touched my clit, and when he gave me particularly hard thrust I all but screamed, grinding into him and against my hard, the whole world quieting down for a moment as my orgasm took me, prolonged by the way he sounded when he came too, nothing but bliss left in my body.

Oli welcomed me with open arms as Noah pulled out carefully, kissing my hair and whispering words of praise. A bottle of water was handed to me, then Noah appeared with a towel to clean me up. I hissed when he reached down between my legs, his rough treatment still tingling.

“Did I go too hard on you?” he immediately asked, halting his movements, worry in his eyes.

“No!” I immediately rejected his fears. “No, I loved it, honestly. Just a little sore now.”

He pressed a loving kiss to the inside of my thigh, then cleaned me up as quickly as possible. When he came back from the bathroom, he slid into bed next to us and I couldn't back bite a smile at the realisation that he'd chosen to lie down on Oli's other side instead of mine. He didn't hesitate as he moulded himself to Oli's back, looking so relaxed and comfortable. I crawled into Oli's arms too, noting that he looked just as happy about Noah's affections.

There were a million things running through my mind still. Questions about our relationship, about Oli’s and Noah's feelings for each other. A reminder I needed to speak to Oli about Noah's wish. A nagging desire to tell them I was realising just how roughly I liked it with them. But none of them made their way out of my brain as sleep took over all three of us, letting us fall asleep in a puddle of post-orgasmic haze and at least temporary happiness.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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updownlately · 1 year

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make me yours my love (cause you’re nobody to me, yet somebody to me)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff (tooth-rotting fluff) | 4.5k | a/n: heard a song from another language, got obsessed with it, translated it to english, and wrote a fic. ended up losing the plot half way through and bs-ed the rest over the course of a week. anyways, i hate it, here you go.

~~~

You had never thought you’d leave North America. It was where you grew up. Where you’d had your best and worst times. It was home.

And when you had moved to Seattle from Vancouver to join the OL Reign, you thought that playing in the NWSL would be your greatest achievement, never expecting anything outrageous to occur, never daring to entertain the idea that you would ever venture any farther away from home. Thus, you clearly didn’t account for your hard work to actually pay off and for you to attract the attention of European clubs with the likes of Manchester City, Aston Villa, or Manchester United.

Even with your hesitance on leaving the continent, you had accepted United's offer almost as soon as it had come through, only waiting to double check with Sue and Megan on what their thoughts were. Of course the two women you saw as parental figures had freaked out on your behalf. They didn’t need to say it verbally but with the way they supported you as you virtually signed the contract and got ready to move showed you how incredibly proud they were of you for not only continuing to rise to a higher level in your career, but for pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

But when the offer to extend your single year contract into a three year came, however, it wasn’t Sue, Megan, or anyone else back home who played a role in your decision. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly as some of the training staff would say, it was your United teammates that unknowingly convinced you to stay.

In the single year you had spent with them, they had welcomed you with open arms, taking you in as one of their own.

Zelem and Mary had become your unofficial team moms, making sure you never got into too much trouble whilst Tooney, Millie, Leah, and the other girls had practically become your sisters. And of course, you had Alessia. Sweet, clumsy, back heel queen Alessia had become one of your closest friends in the new city, her being one of the only few people your introverted self had felt fully comfortable around.

You never understood why or how you were able to so quickly feel so relaxed around the tall girl, you typically being quite shy and reserved with new people, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

Moving countries, much less continents, was never easy, but with Alessia beside you since day one, it had never been too difficult.

Since the day that you had awkwardly waved hi to the United girls and attended your first official WSL practice, Alessia hadn’t left your side once. In fact, within the first few weeks of you being in England, the rest of the girls had established that wherever Alessia was, you were and vice versa, one rarely being found without the other.

Through the homesickness, loneliness, anxiety, and at one point, even depression, she had been there next to you. Be it picking you up and dropping you off from practice, bringing over home cooked meals, or tours around the city, she’d been your rock as you struggled but finally adjusted to being alone again.

And when city tours turned into trying new restaurants together and her dropping off home cooked meals led to bi-weekly movie nights with Alessia’s heavenly dinners or take out, you both never acknowledged how much you cared for each other. Really though, you didn’t have to. A blind person could feel the love that you both radiated for each other.

It was spoken through the way Alessia had become less clumsy over the months, with you now there to catch her. To pull her aside before she could crash into a defensive training dummy. To ensure that her laces were tied and she was aware every time the ground was raised or there was a kerb to watch out for.

Alessia told you she cared when she’d hold you tightly against her chest, after every hard game, practice, or just day. The height difference between your 5’3'' and her 5’9'' was near comical but neither of you minded. If anything, in your opinion, it just made the hugs better since you could bury your face in her neck and block out the world for a few minutes. If Alessia minded, she surely didn’t say a word to you. You didn’t know it but if Alessia was completely honest to herself, she truly loved when you’d hug her. She absolutely adored the way you’d hide your face as you’d hug her, you standing on your tiptoes to comfortably rest your head in the crook of her neck, letting only her see you break, trusting her so easily, warming her heart each time.

You’d whisper the depths of your care when you’d let her lean on you during your movie nights, carding your fingers through her hair when you knew she was on the brink of sleep. In the way you’d slowly manoeuvre both yourself and her into a more comfortable position, her often ending up curled up on top of you, not that you minded at all, welcoming her warmth. How you’d ignore the inevitable stiff neck you would always wake up with since you’d always watch movies in the living room. In your eyes, the pain was always going to be worth seeing the blonde hugging you tightly whilst she slept on your chest.

The star striker would whisper her care ever so softly, staying on call with you during the nights where you missed Seattle a bit too much. When she’d bring you your favourite coffee the next morning, knowing that you’d be tired from your mind running the night before. When she’d drive you to practise, putting on your favourite playlists for the fatigue ridden ride, without you so much as having to ask, her knowing you almost as well as she knew herself.

You both had eventually become so close that even Tooney joked that she should move out and retire from being Alessia's best friend now that you were here for the title. You had simply laughed in response, knowing that at the end of the day, at the end of the month, at the end of the season, even though she was just your teammate at United, she was also simply your favourite person in Manchester (and possibly England, and maybe, just maybe, even in the whole world).

You weren’t someone to really believe in love, having had to witness almost every romantic relationship around you crash and burn, save for Binoe (bless them). So when Alessia clumsily toppled into your life, you didn’t expect that she’d make a home in the cracks of your broken heart. You didn’t expect for her to line the streets of your heart with cosy buildings of every delightful colour known to mankind. You didn’t expect for your heart to flutter like a butterfly each time she was near, the euphoria of having her close nearly causing your feet to grow wings, placing you on cloud nine.

She had your heart and you had no idea when she had taken or how she had taken it, but she had. The way her eyes would crinkle as she laughed had wrapped its threads around your soul. The way she’d have to lean down to hug most of her teammates, you included, and she’d never complain, doing so without being asked, restored your faith in the world. The way her smile would rival the warmth and brightness of the morning sun on your worst days had you smiling softly by yourself as you couldn’t help but stare at her, the only star that you would gladly let damage your eyesight.

While to everyone else she was just your teammate and friend, to you she was so much more. She wasn’t yours but she was something to you, somebody to you, and you hoped to god that you’d never lose her.

It’s funny looking back at when you first realised you were in love with the blonde. It had taken you almost half a year to register that you wanted more than a friendly relationship with her. You remember the exact moment so vividly, having replayed it over and over again in your mind as you lay on your bed, gently begging whatever higher deity existed to make your dreams a reality.

You both, as well as the rest of the team, had just finished a gruelling late training session and Alessia had somehow managed to convince you to let her come around so both of you could make pasta from scratch. You were unbearably tired, not having slept well the night before and the request to postpone the plan was on the tip of your tongue. However, you had made the mistake of looking up from your training bag and right into the bright blue eyes of the taller girl just as you were about to say no, and instead, you (embarrassingly easily, might you add) were persuaded to do nothing but hum in agreement to Alessia’s request.

So once she had picked up the necessary ingredients whilst you waited, trying and failing to nap in the car, and you both had made it to your flat, she had begun flitting around your kitchen, already at home in your house.

You were sitting on the counter, banned from helping due to your tiredness, contentedly watching the partially-Italian woman as she stirred the pasta sauce she had made, that the thought of this scene being ever-present for the rest of your life had briefly crossed your mind. However, you had waved it off at that time, blaming the exhaustion in your bones for your delusional feelings. It had worked and you had forgotten about your yearning for a few seconds, until Alessia had switched the stove off, turned to you, and had taken in your drowsy appearance.

Wordlessly, she had bridged the gap of a few feet between you and gently pulled you towards the edge of the island, pushing apart your legs and bringing her arms to gently wrap around your midsection. It was as she slotted herself perfectly in the space she had created, nudging your head to rest comfortably in the crook of her neck, that you inhaled a deep sigh and let yourself relax, sinking into the hug. As your mind finally began to slow down, the circles Alessia was rubbing on your back calming you quickly, the whole situation hit you.

Here you were, in the arms of your best friend, after she had just finished cooking you dinner, and was holding you so gently, reading you like a book, providing you with the comfort you needed to finally rest. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Alessia was currently peak girlfriend material - hell even possibly wifey material. Tired and relaxed, this time when the thought of being the only one who Alessia would treat so perfectly like this for the rest of her life came across your heart, you let it warm you, indulging in the loveliness of being cared for.

You had known then, that the blonde irrevocably had your heart, and you were helpless to do anything about it. You were nothing but putty in her hands, your fate lying in hers.

From that point on, you had made it your goal to love Alessia the best you could, regardless of whether she loved you back or not.

As days and months went on, you two got even closer, if that was even possible. If you had thought that both of you were close before, the present put the past to incredulous shame. Your morning routine now definitively consisted of picking up Alessia before morning training and other team events and driving the proud ‘passenger princess’, as you liked to call her, to grab breakfast and head to practice, Tooney joining you two once in a blue moon. Bi-weekly movie nights had become weekly occurrences, and her dropping off home cooked meals turned into you both cooking together in your tiny kitchen most nights.

Telling Alessia you had extended your contract had been one of your favourite moments of the postseason. With her due to play for United another two years too (totally not a deciding factor in your renewal at all), the idea of her getting to spend the remainder of her contract playing not only with Tooney, Mary, and many of the other close friends she’d made, but with you as well excited her unfathomably. The blonde hadn’t stopped smiling for a week straight, and you had a feeling that if she had gone even a single day longer than she had, her face would’ve frozen with her blinding smile stuck permanently.

You knew then, you were a goner for her, for that smile, for the comfort she gave you, her hugs that healed you. You knew you’d give her all of you without taking anything in return, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care either. You’d give her the world if she asked, all it would take for you to do so is her saying the words, no qualms on your end. You knew that be it as a friend or a lover, you wanted to be the cause of her smiles, her laughs at everything stupid, and the reason her eyes would sparkle with joy. You knew that you wanted her, you just didn’t know she wanted you too.

So caught up in your own head, in your own yearning for the taller girl, you never noticed the longing stares or the blush that would coat her cheeks each time you were near. You never questioned why she’d hug you significantly longer than anyone else, even Tooney or her own mother. You completely, almost idiotically obliviously missed the way she’d go out of her way to make you comfortable, how she had made it her priority as much as you had made it to ensure that her smile would stay.

The two of you danced around each other for months without knowing, two threads dangling from the sky, tangling so effortlessly, yet making no move to separate. You two were bound together unknowingly, without a title, without it being something, without a label. You both were each other's nobody’s, the “no-one special”, yet both of you were silently craving to be each other’s somebody. All you needed really was for the other to make you theirs, the pair of you too scared to accidentally overstep and risk losing the other completely.

At the end, it only took the two of you just over a year and a half before the two of you made any move towards dating.

It was a chilly mid February day. You had gotten injured that morning, hurting your ankle quite severely and Alessia had so graciously offered to crash with you for a few nights to help you out. You had once again, familiarly, found yourself situated by your island, slumped on the counter, painkillers from the hospital coursing you through your veins, as Alessia cooked for you.

While the sight had become more common to you over the past handful of months, it never got old. The way she’d (for once) gracefully move around, opening your cabinets and rummaging through your pantry and fridge with familiarity and ease, in her element, swaying gently to yours and hers shared playlist you had playing on your speaker. The way her hair was tied back yet a few strands always seemed to spill through, framing her face perfectly. How the heat from the stoves had her cheeks tinted, ever so slightly strawberry red. How absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous she looked bathed in the soft golden lighting of your house, a house that turned into a home whenever she was there.

This time, instead of shying away from watching her as you usually would, you let yourself indulge, eyes tracing the way her arms would flex as she chopped the necessary ingredients, as she used the bench scraper to toss everything into the sizzling pan. You admired the way your old oversized hoodie fit her absolutely perfectly, your last name sitting prettily on her back, as if that sweatshirt was meant to be hers.

You’d been so caught up in your unabashed staring that you didn’t realise Alessia had turned to face you, ladle in hand, the other on her hip, a single eyebrow raised in amusement.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” she teased.

“Definitely did. Something about dinner and it being ready?” You jested, hoping that your obvious guess was at least somewhat close.

“You’re lucky you’re attractive, and half a decent defender…otherwise I wouldn’t be cooking for you y’know.” The way Alessia smirked as your cheeks heated up told you that the striker knew exactly what she was doing, winking at you before laughing and turning around. “Anyways, like I was saying, the doc said you’re probably going to feel really drowsy once the meds wear off, though the pain should definitely be gone. I’m thinking once dinner’s done, we can just go crash in your room, put on a movie or something so I don’t have to carry you around when you knock out? I’m clumsy enough on my own, I don’t need to be holding another person to test it,” she continued.

“Good with me. Plus, at least you’re self-aware enough to know that you are a walking Bambi. It’s honestly a miracle that you aren’t constantly wrapped in bubble wrap at this point.”

“Okay just for that comment, I’m picking the movie and I’m not giving you my hoodie.”

“That’s not fair, I’m drugged up right now. If anything, that’s abuse. You’re torturing a helpless individual,” you mumble as you lay your head on the cool surface of the island.

“Definitely torturing you by cooking you supper and not giving you my hoodie… and as I let you rest since you’re injured and doped up, right?” You could only groan in response to her logic, pouting at not being able to come up with a response.

As Alessia continued to move around your kitchen, finishing up on dinner and plating the food, you went back to observing her. You studied the way she tried the stir fry, taking a bite before scrunching her face adorably and adding more ingredients to fix whatever she thought was lacking. You watched her as she finally decided everything was ready, as she sweetly plated food for you first, handing it to you, before doing so for herself. You smiled, fascinated with the way her body moved as grabbed waters for the both of you, entranced by the ease in her movement.

You were distracted throughout the whole dinner, mumbling responses, missing questions. You blamed it on the medications and fatigue when the forward beside you asked if you were okay, but in actuality your mind couldn’t help but constantly wander to imagining what it would be like if this was your life. If dinners with Alessia could be your future. If movie nights in your bed, you in her hoodie could be a regular occurrence. You knew you’d thought it before, the ideas were nothing new to you, but you had never craved it this bad before, never wanted it more than right now.

You’d been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Alessia grabbing your dishes or her own, nor her loading the dishwasher. It was only when she had stepped in front of you that you snapped out of your reverie.

“You sure you’re okay? You seem really out of it…you know I’ve got you right?”

When you fail to meet her eyes immediately, she cradles your face in her hands, one on either side of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet her eyes. Her worried eyes scan your face and then the rest of your body, trying to pinpoint something, anything that could have been the cause of your dip in mood.

“Seriously, what’s going on? You were fine just a little while ago. Is it your ankle? Is the pain back? The doctor said the medication would wear off around midnight but if it’s wearing off right now we can call the hospi-”

Shaking your head amusedly at her worried rambling, you cut her off before she forgot how to breathe. “Less I’m fine.”

“Bull. You haven’t said more than 5 words ever since I asked about watching a movie. Oh my gosh, is this about how I said I’m picking the movie? ‘Cause if so, you can totally pick, I swear. I was just teasing. And… and of course you can have my hoodie too. I promise I was just joking. I didn’t mean t-”

“Alessia,” you stated firmly, a slight frown returning to your face when it was her who now couldn’t look at you.

Sensing her anxiety, you reach out for the blonde, hands finding home on her hips, squeezing gently, just enough to get her to finally stop scanning your body for injuries and instead look at you.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just been thinking, that’s all.”

“About? What’s got you so distracted? If it’s the injury, we both know you’ll be back in no time. I don’t mind sticking around to help around while you’re recovering. I’d be happy to help you know? I don’t mind. Plus-”

“Less, it’s not the injury. I don’t care about the recovery. I’ve already accepted that I won’t be playing for a few weeks. Stop worrying, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal, yeah right…” she scoffs, her hands moving to your shoulders. “Are you actually not going to tell me what’s going on? What’s bothering you? Was it something I did? Is that why you’re not telling me? If I messed up I’ll fix it okay? I'd rather fix it than lose you. Please. Please tell me what’s going on so I can fix it.”

It was in the next few moments that you contemplated whether it would be worth it. Whether potentially destroying your friendship with the blonde that you’ve been in love with since you met her over a year and half ago would be worth the risk of telling her and outing yourself. You considered pretending everything was fine, to make up some excuse using your newly acquired injury or something about the fans and the pressure, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t lie to her. You couldn’t be dishonest. Not when you looked up and saw the care and concern etched in her face, wrinkles scattered across, creases from distress that you had caused.

You figured that if anything, if, no when, when she told you she didn’t feel the same, you could take the next few weeks you had off for healing and rehab to get over her. It wouldn’t be so bad right? You could take those three weeks to heal your ankle and your heart, and then you could go back to being Alessia’s best friend again.

“Hey, I promise I won’t judge alright? Whatever it is, it’s safe with me, I swear on football,” came the gentle voice from the girl towering above you.

You waited a second before looking up, taking a deep sigh in, revelling in the peace before the chaos that you knew was going to come after. Looking in her eyes, you audibly swallowed, before closing your own.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for ages now, and it’s killing me. It’s killing me to see you in my kitchen, at my house, making it a home. It’s killing me to have you cuddle into me when I know I can’t pull you closer at every chance. It’s physically breaking me when I can’t walk up to you in my kitchen and kiss you to thank you for cooking for me, for taking care of me. It’s hurting me when I know that there’s probably going to come a day where you find someone else and I’m left here with your ghost. It terrifies me that I’m nobody to you but you’re somebody to me.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence and you pray to whatever God existed that she couldn’t hear your heart quietly cracking too.

When a minute passes in complete silence, and then another, you dare to open your eyes. Taking a shaky breath in, you don’t know what to make of the sight in front of you. There, Alessia stands, in all her glory, your hands still on her hips, her head tilted back, eyes glazed over, on the verge of tears.

Your heart’s breaking further with each second that passes and you mentally prepare yourself for the rejection that’s incoming.

“Please say something. Please…”

A beat passes. Then two, before Alessia finally looks back down at you, a lone tear falling from her eyes, one that she quickly wipes away, a smile on her face. “Took you long enough to catch up.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The possibility of your dreams becoming a reality never seemed plausible to you. “Less, don't play. Please,” you beg.

“You were never nobody to me idiot. You weren’t ever nothing to me. You’ve been somebody to me since I met you y’know? You’ve had my heart since you walked onto the training pitch, looking like a lost kid.”

“Honest?” You asked, just to make sure you weren’t hearing things, that she actually liked you back, that you weren’t dreaming. When Alessia nodded in return, you couldn’t help but smile, your grin stretching from ear to ear.

Wiping the few tears that had made their way down your face, you moved your hands to wrap around the other girl, pulling her close to you, hugging her tightly. You tucked your head into the chest, her arms wrapping around your neck, your beaming smile hidden in the cloth of her sweatshirt.

“Let me make you mine? Go on a date with me?” The blonde quietly asked, kissing the top of your head.

This time, it was your turn to nod. You did so energetically, practically vibrating with happiness, twin grins adorning both yours and Alessia’s face.

You couldn’t ever fathom the idea of leaving Canada as a child, yet now, all grown up, on your own, you’d never been more glad you had left. That you had allowed yourself the opportunity to find a new home, one that you found here, in the arms of Alessia Russo.

You’d spent months thinking you weren’t anybody to her, and now? Now you knew you were somebody to her. That you weren’t alone this whole time. That she wanted to make you hers all along.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #fluff #x reader #reader insert #my writing #fic #mmyml #alessia russo

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