#EVERYONE GO FOLLOW THIS INCREDIBLE ARTIST!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alexiroflife · 3 months

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"red"

MDNI, very suggestive content

satoru gojo x singer!reader

Synopsis: utahime brings satoru and shoko to a bar to watch her friend perform, and satoru is immediately whipped for you the moment you step on stage. utahime warns him, however, not to get close to you, but how could he refuse the way you look at him?

to sum it up: you have a strong effect on men, satoru included, and despite the stories utahime tells him about you, you match other's freak

WC: 15,482

Warning(s): smut smut smut, unprotected sex, dom/switch, vulgar language,

happy 500 followers!! thank you all so much for your love and support, you're all amazing. i can't believe there are already half a thousand of you. here is my gift to you and i hope you enjoy <3

The moment Utahime proposed going out to see her friend perform at a grungy bar smack in the middle of the city, Satoru was incredibly skeptical. Normally, the white haired sorcerer was left in charge of staff outings since, according to him, he had the most creativity out of the group of professors that trekked out into the late night after long, grueling weeks of training their students.

It was a good thing he took charge of their activities, too, since everyone else’s suggestions were always so boring. Nanami’s idea of an entertaining night out wasn’t even to actually go out, but to stay indoors with a cup of tea and a newspaper cracked open over his lap. Yaga tended to lean toward artistic outings, such as pottery barns or knitting classes, solely due to the bias of his cursed technique. Ichiji hardly ever even made any suggestions himself, often allowing other opinions to overpower his own to the point where he didn’t even want to bother chiming in. Shoko only really wanted to visit anywhere that allowed her to drink and smoke, so she wasn’t much of a problem. And Mei Mei, well, Satoru hardly knew what the hell motivated Mei Mei’s interests aside from some means to winning money, and he was never too keen on allowing her rather questionable interests to lead the group out.

While everyone liked to complain when Satoru dragged them along to engage in the things he wanted to do, they normally all ended up enjoying themselves by the time the night was over. Even Utahime, who would have stepped freely into oncoming traffic before admitting that Satoru’s suggestion that she would initially turn her nose up at the beginning of the night brought a smile to her face by the middle of the evening. He had a knack for these kinds of things, bringing his colleagues together socially in the best ways he deemed how.

Nevertheless, the indigo haired woman pushed her luck enough to finally let Satoru relent his control for one single evening when she groaned on and on about how she refused to miss the performance of some woman she hadn’t even bothered to mention until now. Satoru only did so for the sake of gloating purposes in case this so-called friend of hers turned out to be far less engaging than Utahime claimed. He determined that she wouldn’t hear the end of it for as long as the two of them kept in contact from this night going forward.

Tonight, the group had narrowed down to a select few as well. Mei Mei thankfully had duties to attend to elsewhere, Ichiji had to babysit his niece, and Nanami downright turned down the evening completely, leaving only him, Shoko, and Utahime alone to attend this mystery friend’s show.

Utahime had in fact begged Satoru not to tag along once she realized that so few people would be coming and she was not entirely fond of him impeding on what could have been girl time with Ieiri, but he persisted, assuring her that he would be delighted to tag along to see what all the fuss was about. Utahime was horrified, to say the least, but she knew that once Satoru had decided upon involving himself in something, there was no way of turning him elsewhere.

So the three professors trekked on that Friday evening, pushing through busy crowds of people until they approached what Satoru could only describe as a hole in the wall smack in the middle of a row of shops and restaurants. It was a small brick building with a hazy led sign spelling out what he assumed to be the name of the establishment with narrow black doors and the scent of liquor tingling the air as people walked in and out. It was clearly a busy and popular place, well worn by the years and buzzing with visitors. He could hear the overlapping chatter of hundreds through the walls from the outside, loud laughter, the scraping of seats against hardwood floors, and the clinking of beer bottles and flasks.

This wasn’t exactly the type of place he had expected Utahime to take interest in, leading him to only grow more curious about who exactly they were about to see inside this enticing little building.

“This is it?” Shoko asked coolly, twisting her cigarette over to the other side of her mouth as her brown eyes examined the outside.

Utahime hummed, double checking her phone screen displaying a text bubble with an address that she had been following. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she nodded, looking back up.

“Huh,” Satoru said, scratching the back of his head as he examined the spot along with the two women beside him. “Didn’t peg you for the grungy type, Utahime,” he teased. The said woman gritted her teeth, tossing a glare over her shoulder through the side of her eye.

“What the hell do you know about my interests?” she hissed.

Satoru smiled, shrugging. He took the first steps toward the door, grinning smugly at Utahime as he brushed past her. “Enough to know that you’ve always been too much of a goody-two-shoes to come somewhere like here all by yourself.”

Utahime growled, clenching her phone tighter within her grasp as Satoru pushed the door open, the noisiness of the inside immediately blaring out into the atmosphere.

“After you,” he smirked, her eyes twitching.

Shoko patted the woman’s shoulder softly before making her way inside. “Don’t let this idiot sway you with his nonsense, Hime,” she advised with a light smile. “You don’t want him to win, do you?”

That question was enough to get Utahime to straighten herself up, following suit behind the brunette. “Like hell I do,” she grumbled. Satoru snickered, letting the door swing closed behind him once they all made it inside.

Satoru had been right about his earlier observation. It was absolutely packed inside, the space much larger than it looked from standing before the exterior. A series of occupied tables took up the majority of the space, where customers sat and talked vividly, surfaces cluttered by bottles of finished and unfinished alcohol. On the left side of the room, the bar resided with crowds swarming the countertops.

The atmosphere was so dark. If Satoru hadn’t been gifted with his six eyes, he likely would have had to squint to find his way through the dimness. The space was illuminated in a lazy, red glow, specs of golden spouting from the bar for the sake of the bartenders and low hanging lamps swinging over the tables.

At the very front of the room was a small stage, concealed by a thick velvet curtain. A few men dressed in black stood at the floor chattering amongst themselves and gesturing above, likely in charge of managing the performers or the stage functions.

“Well, look at you, Utahime,” Shoko patted the woman on the back enthusiastically, the trio standing at the entrance. “You got some spunk in you.”

“It’s not me, it's (Y/n),” the hazelnut eyed woman rolled her eyes. “She’s the one performing at these places.”

“Then you must have some sick friends we don’t know about.”

“And to think, I had no idea you had any friends outside of your colleagues,” Satoru chimed in, inspiring a vein to bulge in Utahime’s forehead. “So, where is this ‘friend’ of yours? I’m starting to think she isn’t even real.”

“Shut up, Gojo! She’s real!” the sorcerer barked. “She told me her performance slot was at ten. That’s in five minutes.”

“We’d better grab a seat then, huh?”

“She said she had the manager save us one up front. I guess we should go check it out.”

“You guys go ahead,” Ieiri waved her hand. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want?”

“Nah. You know how I get, so no alcohol for Satoru. But here,” Satoru stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. He dug into the pocket of his pants and handed her his wallet. “Go crazy. The black one’s unlimited.”

Shoko quirked a mischievous brow, snatching the leather wallet between her index and middle finger. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Satoru,” she said. “Utahime? Anything?”

“Just surprise me. I’ll need something to get through being out with this idiot.”

Satoru grinned playfully and Shoko nodded before walking off.

Utahime clicked her tongue, dissatisfied with the fact that she was left alone with the man next to her. Satoru immediately detected her displeasure and smiled, leaning over her shoulder and gesturing his arm forward. “Lead the way.”

“Get away from me.”

Upon spotting a vacant table to the far left in front of the stage, Utahime took the lead as she shuffled awkwardly through the cramped pathways to make her way to the seat. Once the two made it, she spoke shortly with the man standing guard nearby to tell him that she was the expected visitor in which this seat had been reserved for. The man backed off accordingly, recognizing her face from the description he must have been given beforehand.

The two sorcerers sat down across from each other, Satoru leaning back in his wooden seat with a contented exhalation. “This is a nice change of pace,” he said.

“If you’re mocking me, quit it. (Y/n) is very talented and I wouldn’t come here if I didn’t think it would be worth it.”

“About that. I’ve been meaning to ask. Why are we hearing about this (Y/n) person now, all of a sudden? You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Because she’s a human being with her own line of work separate from sorcery. There’s no need to bring her up when we’re on duty. We all have personal lives,” Utahime spoke flatly, fiddling with her purse with her gaze down and brows angled with irritation.

“But she’s human and she knows about you somehow?” Satoru tilted his head.

“She has an idea of the weird things that go on around this country, if that’s what you mean,” Iori sighed. “Even so, none of it concerns her. She’s got nothing to do with any of this stuff.”

“Where do you know her from?”

“God, you’re so nosy,” Utahime scrunched her nose. She hung her bag by its strap over the back of her chair and leaned back. “We’re old friends, that’s all.”

“‘Old friends?’ Why so vague, Utahime?” the blue eyed man pried, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m just curious to know about who we’ll be watching, that’s all.”

“Your motives are never that simple. You can shut up and watch without knowing her entire life’s story.”

“Okay. Touchy.”

Utahime grinded her teeth together. “So help me, Gojo, if you don’t behave tonight I’m ripping your hair out in your sleep, strand by strand.”

Satoru gasped dramatically, hands flying to his snowing locks fuzzy with misty dust of red casted down upon him by the ambience. “What?! No! Not my beautiful hair,” he pouted. “You’re so mean to me…”

“I’d hope so.”

Satoru threw his arm over the back of his seat. The lights suddenly flared lethargically, blinking between darkness and red to signify the commencement of a performance. Satoru noticed the way Utahime shifted in her seat immediately, turning her attention upward with a gentle smile reaching her features. Satoru followed her gaze and looked up, supposing that he’d see for himself what all the fuss was about.

The lights finally melted into darkness, blocking out the sea of tables in inky blackness with the only light provided now by the stage. Footsteps came into Satoru’s earshot, and he turned to find Shoko squeezing her way over to them, two drinks and his wallet somehow cradled in her arms. She plopped into the empty seat between Utahime and Satoru with a huff, leaning her body over to set the drinks down carefully. The brunette slid Satoru’s wallet over to him across the table.

“I’ll come back for that later,” she whispered, and Gojo snorted, tucking it away.

A short man with a scruffy beard climbed his way onto the stage from the steps on the far right, a microphone in hand. He stood before the curtain at the edge of the platform, waiting for the chatter to completely die down before he spoke.

“Good evenin’, everyone. Hope we’re all havin’ a good night.”

A few straggling hollers of excitement and a symphony of claps resounded throughout the space in response. Satoru took the opportunity to clap loudly along with everyone else, Utahime shielding her face with her hand in embarrassment.

“Alright, that’s what I like to hear,” the man nodded, grin widening. “Now, I ain’t gonna stand here long. I know what you’re all here for. So just remember to keep your damn ringers off during the performance. That shit gets distracting for our singer. And if you’re already wasted, which I can already tell most of you are-” a few laughs jump out from the crowd. “-don’t go tryin’ to climb onto stage to join her either. I know how some of you can get. Yeah, I’m lookin’ at you in the back.”

Satoru found the statement strange, to say the least. Utahime’s friend must have been incredibly popular within this establishment to spark the kind of attention that inspired men to try to get onto stage with her. Then again, looking around at the crowd, he couldn’t say that he expected much decorum from them.

“Alright, I’m done talkin’. Here she comes folks. You know her, you love her, she makes you wanna risk leavin’ the wife, our very own (Y/n) (L/n)!”

The crowd roared, the very mention of your name enough to bring a few intoxicated stragglers to their feet, cupping their hands around their mouths to whistle and shout for your entrance.

Satoru watched carefully as the announcer left the stage, admittedly intrigued. The overhead stage lights softened, isolating a single spotlight that glared against the ridges in the curtain. The surrounding atmosphere up there mellowed into sultry hues of purple and blue, complementing the recurring overarching red that sank over the space.

The curtains pulled back with a squeak, and there you were.

The white haired man’s brows lifted slowly, subconsciously, when the sight of you revealed itself like a gift on display after a tauntingly slow drag of a satin ribbon between pinched fingers.

You stood beneath the light, fingers clutching the handle of the microphone stand. Your shoulders curved with passion, body hunched into the circular ring around the speaker as though you were drawn to it like it was a piece of you. Your eyes were closed, dark lashes coated with tiny specs of gold from your eyeshadow dusting your smooth cheeks. Your lips, glossed sinfully red, grazed your mic as you took in deep breaths that expanded your bare chest, sweat or glitter glimmering over the shiny (s/c) skin of your collarbone and shoulders, twinkling beneath the overhead beam.

Adorned over your figure was a tight satin dress that accentuated every detail of your body, gliding over the curves of your hips and hugging your waist generously, cutting off over your thighs. Incredibly sheer tights ran over your smooth legs and down to your feet, snug in a pair of shiny heels you wore all too comfortably.

“Holy shit,” Satoru heard Shoko whisper. “That’s (Y/n)?”

Utahime hummed in affirmation. “Yes, it is.”

“She’s fucking hot.”

Satoru couldn’t have agreed more. You were more than hot, you were unnaturally, criminally gorgeous. You stood on that stage, soaking in the all the praise that this dive had to offer as if you had done so a million times over, your air of confidence capturing you in a sultry glow complemented by the way those red lights submerged into your aura like smooth molasses milking into cake batter.

Delicately, you opened your eyes, revealing the maroon glint of your (e/c) irises as they danced over the room warmly. Your lips pressed together into a smooth, seductive smile, reading the room and your audience and what they wanted from you, and you catered simply with the look in your eye and the smallest tilt of your enticing, blood red lips.

Satoru couldn’t look away. You had grabbed his attention, fully, easily.

The warbled blare of a saxophone brought Satoru’s attention to the small band of instruments he had failed to register behind you when the curtains first pulled away. A large man worked his fingers over the instrument beside a sleek black piano that eventually trickled with a flirtatious flutter into the saxophone’s accompaniment. The commotion within the crowd died down as the music rose gradually, tenderly.

You swayed slowly to the lazy melody, tapping your fingers against the mic handle. Your heel tapped against the floor and your hips, fuck your hips, swung gently with the will of the music. All the amusement Satoru once harbored had completely drained from his body. He felt suddenly earnest, consumed by the sight of you complemented by the symphony that followed, and he watched eagerly in anticipation for your lips to part, for sound to fly from your mouth. He awaited your voice with a sense of severity, face blank, eyes slightly wide.

As though he had summoned it, a rich note dragged through the air, deep, earthy, vibrating with soul and captivating ardor. The tune ripped through his ears, floating into the atmosphere like a dove gliding its wings through the air, touching the surface of water and rippling waves. It took several moments before Satoru realized that this blissful sound was coming from you. Your lips puckered ever so gently, brows angling as the space between your lips released the most hypnotizing vibrato he had ever heard in his life.

Chills crawled down his spine from the back of his neck as your voice nearly blended into the glide of the saxophone, slippery yet controlled and achingly sensual. You sang so effortlessly, tone mature and impassioned by your engrossed facial contortions and the subtle movements of your body. Whoops jumped into the air, followed by more claps from stunned listeners, and Satoru couldn’t decide whether he wanted to join them in rejoicing over you or turn around to tell them all to shut the fuck up so he could hear you more clearly.

He was lucky to be so close, watching you within near proximity as your lids lowered over your eyes then lifted with each note and lyric you sang, head turning and face scrunching accordingly. You were so physically reactive to your own voice, to the words that left you, to the people watching and the space you resided. You filled the room with your presence, capturing the building with your intoxicating charm. Your voice was as sexy as you were, and you sang and moved slowly enough for Satoru to take note of every detail.

The sorcerer sat there hypnotized, dizzy from you. He couldn’t even be bothered with turning to look at Shoko or Utahime to see what they were thinking, but due to their rather stiff silence, he assumed that they were in the exact same boat as him and everyone else within the room.

After a minute or so of sluggish bliss, the pianist shifted the tone of the music and played something bright and mischievous. The saxophone quickly adapted, slurring into the uplifted beat. The crowd reacted swiftly and your crimson lips spread to reveal your shiny white teeth, a grin devilish enough to feel as though Satoru wasn’t supposed to be looking.

Your jaw dropped to ease out a loud, booming note that sparked the bar into an uproar, your leg lifting and curving over the mic stand. You leaned forward, pressed the bar into your figure as you allowed that inhumane note to drift yourself forward with a tilted chin as you gaze over the crowd over your nose with those feline, hazy eyes.

Satoru’s eyes gawked over the shimmer of your thin stalkings when you raised your thigh up, the hem of your dress teasing the lace cutoff that cupped over the upper flesh.

Then, you stood back upward, yanking the mic from the stand to strut downstage, wiring dragging in your wake. You crouched down, voice fluttering handsomely through the speakers with your simultaneous and sudden engagement with those below center. You sang as though you were speaking to individual audience members, knees bent and arm dangled over them, head craning as your eyes isolated everyone, face by face.

A shout of your name jumped out as you looked around, and you loved it, responding with a playful wink as you maneuvered yourself into a seated position. Your legs dangled over the ledge, ankle crossing over the other and weight leaning on one hand.

“She’s so good, isn’t she?” Satoru heard Utahime whisper excitedly into Shoko’s direction.

Good was an understatement. You were flawless. A gem. A fucking masterpiece hidden within the confined walls of this establishment.

You were so smooth, shifting about languidly like your body was melting into all the right positions. You were like a drug to survey, seeping through Satoru’s veins and numbing his senses, leaving you to be the only thing within this space that he was perceptually aware of.

He watched you turn to look all around, finally drifting your face into the direction of his table. Your eyes found Utahime first, a glimpse of amiable excitement flickering through your gaze with a twitch in your smile. The said woman waved enthusiastically with a beam. Your smile brightened as you continued singing, (e/c) eyes dancing over Shoko and then finally onto Satoru.

The white haired man stilled under the spotlight of your gaze, your piercing eyes far more intense now that they had connected with him. His skin tingled, sapphire eyes holding your own as something within you sparked, eyes jumping ever so subtly as you took in his frame.

Satoru wasn’t normally easily swayed into speechlessness, let alone nervousness, but damn. Your eyes were practically devouring him whole as they shamelessly roamed over his body, hungrily, as if you were going to pounce on him.

Satoru grew hyper aware of his physical reaction to you in that moment. His heart was pumping steadily yet loudly within his ears and his throat had run dry, Adam’s apple bobbing whilst he tried to appear unfazed by you to no avail. A battle of dominance transpired between your shared eye contact, and he couldn’t deny the fact that you were winning. Your voice floating on in compliance with your gaze wrapped him into a chokehold, burned his peach skin, and for the first time in his life he felt rivaled by a human woman’s natural power outside of his ordinary world of sorcery and chaos.

Your hand supporting your body weight slid out, your figure leaning along with it and your eyes failing to leave Satoru’s even for a second. Your hand carried you until you were laying on your side, hand propping up your cheek and left leg crossed over the other. The blue eyed man’s eyes widened as he took in the manner in which you presented yourself before him, for him. The mic pressed into your soft lips, your gloss grazing the speaker, corners of your mouth curving with sensual delight.

You looked so edible like this, mesmerizing him with your voice like a siren out of sea. Your beautiful legs, your jutted hip, those gorgeous lashes, and lord help him, those juicy red lips that had him seeing stars. Red, Satoru observed, was your color as its shade cradled you and illuminated the frame of your body. He drank in your artistry in awe, the room growing warmer around him with each bat of your lashes and gliding of your fingers down your dress.

Cheers surrounded, but all Satoru could focus on was your face and the sudden ache arousing from his crotch. He glanced down momentarily and caught sight of the growing bulge stretching his nice pants and exhaled heavily. He rested his elbow on the table and slid his hand over his mouth, peering back up at you with blown pupils.

It was going to be a long night.

Your grin twinged with an air of satisfaction when you noticed Satoru’s response to your rather blatant flirting, and you pushed yourself back up. You tilted your head over into the opposite direction slowly, eyes trained on his until the very last second, and then they broke away.

Satoru’s daze shattered when a balled up napkin bounced off of his infinity shield. He turned rigidly to find Utahime glaring at him angrily, lips curled into a disapproving frown. “Don’t even think about it,” she seethed.

Gojo examined her for a moment before a devious smirk crept its way back on his lips. He shifted, crossing his legs to attempt to hide the current problem poking into his pants, and grinned. “No promises,” he mouthed and Utahime groaned, ripping her eyes away from him as if the sight of his face disgusted her.

Your performance ended far too soon for Satoru’s liking. When he looked back up, the accompaniment was dwindling down into the slow pace that it had begun with. You were back on your feet, turning your back to the audience to saunter over to the mic stand. You carefully slid the handle back into its holder, voice soothing into a low, conclusive note that fluttered regally off into a momentary stunned silence.

You stilled, inhaling sharply as the song reached its end. You blinked your eyes, as though reawakening from a daze, and looked up contentedly. Your hands fell to your sides and you awaited applause that came as rapidly as you had aroused the entire room.

Gojo made sure that he was the first to jump to his feet, clapping wildly with a ridiculous grin. Everyone else followed, showering you in praise, compliments, a standing ovation well deserved. Shoko ‘whooped’ next to him, joining in on Satoru’s boisterousness while Utahime clapped a bit more politely with a proud smile.

You gave a little bow, your smile radiant enough to put the sun to shame. You looked over everyone in grateful acknowledgement before turning your attention back to your friend’s table. You took the opportunity to return Utahime’s wave merrily, bringing your fingers to your lips and blowing a kiss to the brown eyed woman.

Satoru and Shoko’s cheers picked up in volume, and your eyes brought themselves back to them. Your shoulders jerked with a soft chuckle, giving the two of them an introductory wave. Satoru brightened when you looked at him again, gazes exchanging an internal, mutual address of one another’s tension.

You drew your top lip down, suppressing a bigger smile as you stared at him. Your gaze traveled downward for half a second and your eyes went big. You were quick to brush a hand over your amused expression and lower your gaze the moment the curtains drew over you and shut, concealing your beauty once more.

Satoru jutted out his bottom lip in momentary befuddlement, looking down to be reminded by his… problem. He was lucky that he was wearing pants that were tighter around his lower waist and crotch area, keeping the print of his dick somewhat compressed, but you had still managed to notice from your view upstage.

Well, more accurately, you had been looking.

Satoru grew ecstatic at the notion.

“You!” Utahime pointed an accusatory finger at the blue eyed man once the applause had died down and chatter arose once more. People began to leave after your show had ended, having only come to watch you sing, and hell, Satoru couldn’t blame them.

Satoru lowered his hands and pointed an innocent finger to his chest. “Me?”

“If you sleep with (Y/n), so help me-”

“Woah, hold on now,” Satoru stopped her. “What makes you think I’m the kind of guy to go around sleeping with strangers?”

“Oh don’t play coy, I saw the way you two were looking at each other earlier,” she rolled her eyes. “I hardly care what you do in your free time- frankly it makes me gag to think about it- but please just leave (Y/n) out of it.”

“Oh come on, it’s not my fault she was looking at me. What’s a guy to do in that situation?” Satoru shrugged. “I’m sorry I can't help my incredibly good looks.”

“I mean it, Gojo.”

“Utahime, let’s be real. She’s your friend. I wouldn’t do anything to mess with her. I’m not the horrible guy you take me for.”

“I don’t think you’re horrible, I think you’re an idiot whose arrogance is going to get you in a world of trouble one day. And I’m not even talking about how you’d affect her, I’m talking about her.”

“Hm? How do you mean?”

“She will eat you alive.”

“Eat me alive?” he repeated curiously. The prospect had only further piqued his interest. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you… I’m just thinking maybe I should see for myself.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Shoko laughed. “Think of it this way, Utahime. If Satoru sleeps with your friend, he’ll be admitting that you chose a great place for us to hang out tonight. After he doubted you, and all.”

Utahime paused, a noble grin reaching her features with the touch of her finger to her chin. “That’s right! He’d have to admit that he was wrong about me. Looks like you’re not the only one who knows how to plan a fun night out, huh?”

Satoru watched the woman gloat in her newfound honor with a blank face. “Jeez, Utahime. I didn’t think you were so obsessed with trivial things like proving me wrong. I was just playing around earlier,” he badgered, successfully rousing her agitation and disrupting her temporary air of victory.

“I can’t stand you!”

“So,” Shoko sighed, turning to observe the flow of people exiting the space as the lights rose once more overhead. “Are we gonna get to meet this girl, or what? She put on a hell of a show.”

“Oh… yeah, hold on,” Utahime pulled out her phone. “She told me before to just wait for her to text saying that we can head backstage. I think she’s in the dressing room.”

Satoru buzzed with the anticipation of seeing you up close. Something about the way you stood up there, the way you presented yourself, the way you looked at him made every fiber in his being tremble with excitement as though you were a celebrity he had only dreamed about gaining the privilege to encounter in person until this very moment.

He looked over his shoulder at all the drunken men who had been hollering your name and brimmed with vanity. Those poor idiots could only ever ponder about speaking with you one on one and seeing you up close, when he was able to saunter his way back to you with absolutely no obstacles in his way. It was foolish of him to sneer down at these non-sorcerers, who had been established as far beneath him the moment he was born, but he couldn’t help the pride that swarmed his chest when he thought about the advantage that he already had with you in comparison.

“Ah, there it is,” Utahime smiled upon seeing your name pop up on her screen. “Alright let’s go. Gojo, keep it together.”

“When have I ever done anything but that,” he grinned.

The three found themselves being led up the stage and behind the curtain by the same guy who had presented your performance. They walked through the narrow right wing and toward a door at the end of the room. The man knocked loudly upon it, announcing to you through the barrier that you had visitors before walking off. Another shiver wracked Satoru’s body when your honey-like voice called out that the door was open.

Utahime turned the knob slowly, peering into the room hesitantly. “(Y/n)?”

The door opened widely, revealing you sitting at a foggy mirror and a beaten leather chair. The surrounding clutter of storage and clothing was enough to show that you had been in this space often despite its rugged, vintage look.

The light of your vanity illuminated the brick space. You looked up when the door fully opened, and that jaw dropping smile graced your red lips again.

“Utahime,” you greeted happily. Iori beamed, rushing into the room to wrap you up in a hug the moment you stood. You let out a surprised huff, easing into her arms and chuckling. “I’m so glad you made it,” you said, rubbing her back.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world! The second I knew you were performing here, I came running,” Utahime replied, pulling away to look at you. “You were so amazing out there.”

“Aw, you think so?” you raised your brows, serene grin broadening.

“Absolutely! You made everyone go crazy.”

“I try my best,” you shrugged, eyes darting over to the brunette and the white haired man standing at the doorway. You raised a brow. “I see you brought some friends with you.”

“Ah,” Utahime recalled, releasing you from her grip. “Yes, these are my colleagues. This is Ieiri Shoko and… Gojo Satoru,” she grumbled the latter bitterly, slimming her eyes at his cocky gaze.

You hummed. “Oh yeah?” those eyes of yours flickered over Satoru rather noticeably. “Well, nice to meet you both. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“Enjoyed it?” Shoko echoed, crossing her arms with a tipsy grin. “We loved it. You’ve got a crazy set of pipes on you. And that dress? Fucking incredible.”

You accepted the compliment genuinely. “Thank you, you’re sweet.”

“How long have you been performing?”

You followed the owner of that voice and found yourself staring into captivating blue hues once more. A small smile rested on his lips and his hands were tucked into his pockets as he looked at you.

You sharpened your gaze and lowered your lids. “Do you mean here or in general?”

He shrugged, glossy lips puckering as if in thought. “Both.”

A glint flickered through your eyes when you responded, leg crossing over the other. “Been performing for ten years, here for one.”

Satoru lifted his chin and parted his lips, humming in understanding. “So you’re a real professional then.”

“I don’t know, what do you think I am?” you asked him.

Gojo immediately picked up on the light banter that you were encouraging, therefore he, so taken by the sight of you, could do nothing but play along. Especially when you proceeded to check him out with absolutely no remorse.

“I think you’re good enough to be with the stars somewhere. On a big stage with a big crowd. Bigger than any of us could imagine.”

Flattery, though common, still seemed to have a rather carnal effect on you. You tilted your head over your shoulder, eyes glistening with intrigue. “Who says I haven’t been?”

You clearly liked to challenge, to push your limits and see if your words and responses were strong enough to make the man before you falter or stumble over his words. If Satoru Gojo were anyone else in this world, he internally conceded that he would have, but he liked this daring persona you harbored. He liked the way that you were aware of the fact that you could bring a man to his knees with a look alone, the way you could shift your words to chip away at someone’s resolve and make them a mess at your feet.

He thought it was so hot.

If Utahime had been right about you earlier, that you would eat him alive if he had been presented the chance to make a proper move on you, he would have let you consume him blissfully.

He wanted you to consume him.

“You’re right,” Satoru chuckled lowly. “If you have, you’d be right where you should be. In the limelight.”

Your smile spread as your locked gaze soaked him in, and Satoru knew that he was set.

“Alright,” Utahime’s voice cut through the thick air. Her expression was bored, having very clearly witnessed what was slowly unveiling before her. While she didn’t approve of it in the slightest, she was hardly the least bit surprised.

Shoko had kept quiet as well, looking between you and Satoru with knowing widened eyes and a tight laugh-suppressing smile.

“(Y/n)? When’s your next show?” Iori asked you, clenching her jaw when her eyes cut through Satoru threateningly. The said man hardly cared, for you were initiating far more of the tension rising between the two of you than he was. After all, Satoru hadn’t been bluffing before when he had questioned the accusation thrown about regarding his sex life. He was a busy man with very little to no free time aside from the few hour block he took out of his Friday evenings to spend time with his fellow sorcerers.

Of course, women were drawn to him, but he found very little interest in entertaining their efforts. In his mind, the act would have been like poking fun at forgotten admirers for the sake of entertainment. It was beneath him, sleeping around, and he hardly trusted anyone enough with his powerful mind and body to be vulnerable with them. Consequently, he kept to himself, flirting around every now and then but never crossing the line between pretty words and physical intimacy.

So to be dragged into your will with little effort had stunned him, more so because he was not opposed to your unspoken invitation in comparison to how he would have normally reacted to someone’s advances. You looked like you were trouble, conniving, gaining control of a room with the tricks of your beauty and your talent. You knew full well that you were an unfathomable treasure, a sex symbol amongst the little world that you had built for yourself, and that alone was dangerous. Satoru knew so because he himself was just as dangerous for the same reasons and far more.

You weren’t even intimidated by his presence, like most human women were. He was abnormally tall with prominent features that stood out like a sore thumb; snowy white locks that glowed blindingly in the sunlight and eyes as vast and blue as the sky above. Normally, people shivered under his gaze, cowered in his wake, but you demanded his submission as though he was just another man, and hell, he couldn’t even be offended because he wanted you just like any other man.

“Usually I perform every Friday,” you started, pulling your eyes from Gojo to look back at Utahime. “But next week they’ve got another guest performing in my place ‘cause I want off. Sometimes I do stuff at the bar in one city over too, but during the weekends. You’re welcome to come check it out whenever. All of you.”

“We’ll definitely have to stop by more often. I can’t believe I’ve been missing you all this time.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it. I can only imagine how swamped you are with work and everything, being a professor and all. Just come when you can, no hard feelings.”

“Do you have a social media handle?” Ieiri asked. You nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s my full name pushed together. You follow me, and I’ll follow you. I love making new friends.”

The brunette immediately exchanged information with you, and just like that, the night was over.

Utahime was the first to bid farewell, claiming that she had to get up early the following morning for some business to attend to that Satoru and Shoko knew as a quick mission orchestrated by Tokyo Jujutsu High. She gave you another tight hug and Shoko followed, telling you that it was great meeting before turning to the door with Utahime. Satoru was the last to leave the room, turning over his shoulder to casually part with you.

You watched him closely, leaning your hip against your vanity with your hand on upon the other. Your red lips pressed together in a stiff smile, desiring eyes watching as you said goodbye, though you knew deep in your gut that this wouldn’t be your last time seeing Satoru Gojo.

On the way out, Satoru stopped in his tracks on the stage steps, standing over the now completely vacant building. Utahime and Shoko walked with their arms linked to the exit, Shoko stopping first when she realized that Satoru was not directly behind them. The women turned, catching sight of him looking around the room calmly.

“Satoru!” Shoko called out. “You coming or what?”

He smiled, lowering his head to look at the brunette from across the room. “Nah,” he sighed contentedly. “I think I’ll take in the ambience a bit more and… ponder over the performance we just watched. Why end the night so early, you know?”

Utahime’s expression fell flat. “It’s a quarter past midnight,” she deadpanned.

“And yet, there’s still so much the night has to offer.”

Shoko snorted, turning back around and waving her hand over her head. “Whatever you say. Text me after you get laid.”

“Like I said, Shoko, you know I’m not that kind of guy!”

Utahime huffed, shaking her head in disdain. “You’re playing with fire, Gojo. We all know you’re the strongest, but you shouldn’t underestimate that woman’s control. She will break you.”

Satoru scoffed, waving the indigo haired woman off. “Please. I’m unbreakable.”

Utahime rolled her eyes and turned her back to the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. “It’s your funeral.”

His funeral, huh?

Satoru never knew himself to be the masochistic type, but somehow, the thought of you metaphorically killing him only made him harder.

You emerged from behind the velvet curtain about ten minutes after Shoko and Utahime left. You were rifling through your purse for the keys to lock up, which the owner usually entrusted you to do when you performed because you were close personal friends.

Your heels clicked and echoed throughout the vacant space, no signs of life aside from the sound of your footsteps. Even so, you knew you weren’t alone before you had even rounded that corner to exit backstage. You could sense the overwhelming presence of that friend of Iori’s who had been ogling over, and you hadn’t been surprised. When you looked up from your bag and saw his tall figure sitting patiently at the same table he had occupied earlier that night, chin propped in his fist and eyes glowing through the dim space to find yours, you lowered your arms knowingly.

“Hate to break it to you, but the show’s over, pretty boy,” you said smugly. “You’ll be waiting in the dark forever until my next one.”

“That’s okay. I was actually waiting for you,” Satoru replied suavely.

“Is that so?” you stepped down the stairs slowly to make your way over to him. “I don’t give autographs, if that’s what you’re looking for. I haven’t made it that big yet.”

“Whattt? No way. I thought you said you’ve been with all kinds of stars before.”

You walked up to the table, slinging your purse off of your arm and tossing it carelessly on the surface. “Don’t get me wrong. One day I will be,” you sighed. “Just not yet.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” Satoru grinned, watching in the dim light as you slid into the seat across from him. “I’ve never seen anyone perform the way you did.”

“You must not get out much,” you teased. “I’m really not all that special in places like these.”

“Okay, we both know that’s bullshit,” Satoru cocked a brow, giving you a look as your grin widened. “You’re unreal on that stage. I’ve been around enough to know that.”

“Clearly,” you chuckled. “I appreciate the flattery, Gojo.”

Your laugh was heavenly, and holy shit, you remembered his name.

“Satoru,” he corrected you, quickly ridding the both of you of any formalities that could have gotten in the way. Your lips parted slightly with fascination, and you caught the way Satoru’s eyes jumped to the motion.

“Right. Satoru,” you tested his first name on your lips, and Satoru thought that he would have combusted right then and there.

If that hadn’t been enough to blow a fuse in his brain, sitting so close to you and taking in your features within your proximity was a gift within itself. You were even prettier up close, the details he couldn’t quite admire from when you were on stage fully displaying themselves before him exquisitely.

Your eyes were so heavy, lined with a coat of black liner that deepened, accentuated the rich hue of your alluring eyes and your skin so smooth beneath the expertly applied coat of makeup you wore for your performance. You still had on that dress too, only it was concealed by a leather coat that reached your thighs, hiding what Satoru so desperately wanted to see now that he was mere feet away from you.

“So, a colleague of Utahime’s, huh?” you prodded, seeking further information from him. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a teacher.”

Satoru laughed lightly at the sentiment, momentarily forgetting that you had no clue about what his profession could have possibly entailed. “I get that a lot,” he elected to say.

“And at a religious school no less?”

You were testing the water.

“It’s just work,” Satoru shrugged. “I never thought about it as religious or non-religious, which I know is probably weird to say since I am a professor there.”

“No, I get what you mean,” you said. “Work is just work,” you repeated his words, and Satoru smiled.

“Exactly.”

“Then you come to these kinds of bars for, what, a break from all the sanctity?” you mused.

“Not really. I’m actually not much of a drinker. I only came here for the entertainment. Per Utahime’s suggestion, of course.”

“Right,” you smiled. “Speaking of, Utahime doesn’t seem to like you very much. I only got that from the way she introduced you like she wanted your head on a silver platter,” you observed smugly, Satoru releasing an amused breath.

“She acts like she hates me, but I’ve known her for years. She’s just always been easy to mess with and she lets me pick on her.”

You laughed, clearly understanding what he meant. “So you’re that kind of guy, huh? Picking on poor Utahime. No wonder she hates you.”

“Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like some kinda monster,” Satoru sulked slightly, much to your amusement.

“I wouldn’t mind it if you were. I could take it.”

Satoru’s cock twitched, your words alone enough to further stimulate his lust for you.

You could take it.

The phrase had so many different possible connotations, and you knew it. Your eyes said it all as they melted over his face, surveying his facial reaction to the way you lifted a nail between your teeth to bite down on it mid sentence.

It drove him crazy.

“You don’t seem like the type though,” you countered your previous statement. Satoru leaned forward slightly, inquisitive.

“No?”

“Nah, you seem too nice.”

The blue eyed man snorted. “You think I’m nice?”

“Or maybe that’s not the right word,” your painted finger tapped against your bottom lip, the flesh so plush beneath your touch.

He wanted to feel that softness against him. He wanted your lipstick to stain his body. To stain his life. He wanted you so bad.

“I mean, I guess I do consider myself to be generous,” Satoru played along, a laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Mmmm,” you pressed your lips together, slimming your eyes and setting your elbows onto the table. You leaned into him, eying him closely, studying his cunning smile and pressing your chest into the table. “I take it back.”

“Damn, you don’t think I’m nice anymore?”

“You’re more… extroverted,” you decided. “You know how to talk to people, and it comes off as generosity. Sometimes. But in reality, it’s just you being lighthearted.”

“So lightheartedness and generosity aren’t the same thing?”

“Hell no,” you smirked. “You could be a dickhead and still be spirited.”

He chuckled again. You were so forward. “You’ve got a point.”

“You’re also a little flirty, you know that?” you specified. “I think that’s a part of your ‘lightheartedness.’”

“Oh really?” the strongest sorcerer shifted to open his fist and lean his cheek over in his palm, peering down at you through his lashes. “Pretty, if I’m flirty, then you must be in love with me.”

You were momentarily stunned by the comment, your pleasure with the conversation only growing as Satoru grew more brazen. “Wow. That’s a new one,” you grinned, pretty teeth on display again, and Gojo found himself mirroring the sun before him.

“I’m just saying, I’m not the only one who’s been flirting. You can’t tell me otherwise.”

“I never said I wasn’t,” you admitted freely, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Satoru sucked in a heavy breath as his pants only grew tighter. “Hate to break it to you, though, I don’t do love if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not. Somehow I didn’t peg you as the type.”

“What did you peg me for?”

Satoru took a few seconds to reply, staring at you. “As a woman who your friend told me would eat me alive.”

“What?” you released a real laugh this time. It was a loud, bright sound that boomed through the empty space and left Satoru’s cheeks aching and dimples popping from how hard he was smiling in reaction to it. He watched the way your head tilted back and your eyes scrunched closed, your expression displaying true thrill.

You were so beautiful, he couldn’t stand it.

“Why’s that so funny?” he asked in the midst of his idiotic simpering.

You swiped a finger under your eye as you calmed, shaking your head with lingering giggles. “Because Utahime would say something like that about me,” you exhaled.

“Can I ask if she was wrong?”

You interlocked your fingers, elbows on the table, and rested your chin atop them. “No, she’s not,” you said, softly. “But you know that anyway, don’t you? You look pretty smart.”

“Aw, thanks for noticing,” Satoru cooed. “You’re right. I knew that the second I saw you.”

You hummed, dragging your eyes over his face, then down to his hands. “Then why are you here, Satoru? To get eaten alive?”

There went Satoru dick for the third time that night, jumping excitedly within the confines of his pants. The predicament began to grow rather uncomfortable, and you were quick to notice when he shifted in his seat in an attempt to be subtle and his dark pupils expanded amidst the pools of sapphire beneath his messy hair.

Your perfectly plucked brow arched as you looked down when he shifted. “Problem?” you asked knowingly, sensually, and god, you were only making his situation worse. Your lips bounced apart with the end of your question, your mouth now slightly agape.

Satoru could feel his skin burn, your presence unbearably intoxicating.

A muscle in Gojo’s brow twitched as you lowered your palms flat to the table and pushed, your chair scooting loudly across the floor. Blue pools of desire followed your figure as you rose from your chair slowly, rounding the table with your fingers dragging along the surface. Satoru’s heart was hammering, entirely fixated on you as you approached and stood over him.

Suddenly, you kicked your foot out and knocked it against the front leg of his chair. Hooking the point of your heel over it, you dragged the furniture away from the table to face you. You broke your eyes from his to look down, the image of his throbbing hardon meeting your eyes kindly.

“Looks like it,” you answered for yourself.

Satoru instinctively released his technique when he saw you coming into him. You leaned over and pressed onto his shoulder, throwing your leg around him to straddle his lap. Satoru hissed, corner of his lips twirling up as his eyes flew to where your thighs crowded around his crotch, tights stretching perfectly over the way the fat of your thighs expanded when you sat.

You pouted, sliding your arms around his neck and tilting your head down to meet his lowered eyes. “What’s wrong? Got no more talk in you?”

The white haired man trembled under you, wordlessly taking you in. You smelled so good, your scent invading every one of his heightened senses as your gentle fingers dragged over the nape of his neck. You leaned in closer, brushing your wine red lips over his glossy ones as he exhaled shakily, warm breath fanning against your skin.

“Am I making you nervous, pretty boy?” you whispered into him, and he fucking shuddered. “I thought you wanted this…”

Your fingers tangled up and into his hair, pushing his locks from his forehead and tilting his head back. You looked over him, marveling at his beauty as his cheeks reddened and his hands cupped over your waist. His lashes fluttered with the brush of your fingers through his silky strands, eyes inky pools as he looked up at you desperately.

“Funny, your dick may be making all the moves for you,” you teased, words vulgar as they dripped from your tongue.

Satoru’s length jumped against your inner thigh, hardening beneath your weight. He clenched his jaw and drew his brows together, digging his fingers into your hips under your coat. You hummed, drawing your lips to his ear. “See? All of a sudden he’s more talkative than you are.”

“Fuck,” Gojo hissed, your voice in his ear snapping something deep within him. “Baby, you’re something else.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” your fingers curved down the side of his jaw and over his throat. “You gonna let me ruin you?”

Satoru smiled breathlessly, his grip around you tightening. “I should be asking you the same thing, pretty…” his heavy hands smoothed down over your ass, pushing you further up against him. You raised your brows, pulling away to look down at him daringly.

“That’s pretty cocky for a guy who lost his words for a second, there,” you licked your lips.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea how cocky I can be.”

You grabbed a fist full of his shirt, tugging harshly. “Then prove it.”

Your mouths were clashing into each other’s before Satoru could even process his next thought, which only would have been something about you. Your lips were so soft, plush as a cloud as they mashed into his own, your red gloss smearing over his lips and chin, painting him red, and Satoru knew then that he could die happy.

Satoru reached up blindly and pushed your jacket off your shoulders. You swiftly shimmied out of the fabric, letting it drop to the floor whilst your lips remained locked hungrily in a primal, hot, greedy battle. The white haired man immediately snatched the opportunity to feel over your body, memorizing the curves that followed his hands beneath the smooth fabric of your tight dress. His legs spread beneath you, feet pressing into the floor to hump up into your hips as your body curved into him like the trickle of water smoothing down a pipe.

He grunted into your mouth as you nipped and bit, curling your tongue into his mouth to fight for your authority. Satoru welcomed your dominance, floating into a twisted heaven as your hand curled over his throat and your tits pressed into his shirt through your dress, thighs rubbing over his sides and nails dragging down his chest to rip open the buttons of his shirt.

“That shirt was expensive,” he breathed heatedly into you between the swift seconds your lips broke apart. Wet smacking filled your ears as you pressed back in, pushing your body flush against his large frame and licking your tongue along his lip.

“I don’t care,” you purred. Satoru released a shaky moan, slamming his lips back into yours, eager to taste every bit of your lipstick and the slick of your tongue.

You jumped back to stretch the material of his shirt further apart, buttons popping with the revelation of his flushed, bare pecs and the hint of his well-sculpted upper abdomen. You dragged the shirt from his shoulders, Satoru yanking his arms free to grab your cheeks and press you harder into him. “Your lips feel so good,” he huffed mindlessly, a string of saliva pulling from the two of you as you parted.

“All I did was kiss you,” you breathed.

“So kiss me more,” he demanded. “Everywhere. Wherever. I don’t give a fuck.”

“So bossy,” you groaned, teeth grazing his jaw as you slid your hands down his exposed skin, feeling over the ridges of his abdominals. Satoru jerked, breath releasing with a vocalized sigh as your touch smoothed over his stomach. You popped open the last button of his shirt and ripped it out from under him, throwing it over your shoulder with a pretty smirk, lipstick smudged messily over your cheek. “I’ll kiss you when I want to kiss you, where I want to kiss you.”

“Don’t be like tha-mmm…”

Your hand slid over the bulge of his pants as you pressed yourself up above it to free the space for your access. Satoru clenched his jaw and watched intensely as your fingers traced over the outline of his hard on teasingly, teeth sinking into your lip as you monitored his reaction. “You feel big, Toru,” you observed sweetly. “Can I call you that? Toru? You like that, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” he heaved, eyes blurry. “Call me whatever the fuck you want.”

“Atta boy,” you praised, pressing your lips to his cheek as his cock jerked beneath your hand. “Ohhh, look at that. Someone likes praise…”

“You’re- killing me, baby,” he looked up at you, jaw hanging as stuttered breaths escaped him. “Need you to take care of my cock, pretty, can’t handle the way you’re touching me.”

“You must be so used to getting what you want,” you sighed. You leaned to place your finger at the base of his balls, watching the way his body jumped. You slid your finger all the way up his concealed shaft slowly before ripping it away with a sweet smile. Satoru made a noise like a dissatisfied whine in his throat. “I already told you, I’ll do what I want when I want it.”

He tossed his head back, brows curling. “(Y/n),” he whimpered.

“Ooo, don’t say my name like that,” you pushed your hips back down to roll against his cock, a pretty moan fluttering from his muscular throat. “You’ll get me even wetter than I already am.”

Satoru’s hands clutched down onto your thighs, squeezing harshly with aching want.

“Relax,” you ordered, and he did, sinking back into the chair as your hands climbed over him and your lips touched the crook of his jaw. “Good boy.”

You slid your tongue along his skin, sinking your teeth into his neck like a damn vampire, smoothing your open mouth over the stinging bites, marking his skin redder than that makeup you wore. Satoru breathed heavily, twitching beneath you uncontrollably. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, and he was already a mess at your will. His moans strained in his throat as you sucked circles on his neck mercilessly, capturing any piece of his perfect skin you could find.

He needed you to free his cock so badly. It was causing him pain, at this point, how achingly hard he was. He could feel precum already staining his underwear and soaking through his slacks, but you kept him waiting, pressing you clothed mound to his bulge as his grasping hands pulled your dress over your legs and scrunched it around your waist.

Your lace cut offs and string panties unveiled themselves to him and he almost came then and there beneath you. You were so bad, dressing like this to perform as though you were asking to get fucked afterward. As though you knew Satoru had walked through those doors and would melt into putty the moment you laid your hand on his chest.

“Uh uh,” you whispered, feeling Satoru press his dick up into you again. He could feel the slipperiness between your thighs, soaking your thin underwear and threatening to pool through to touch his clothes. “Stop that,” you said firmly, glaring up at him from where you had begun nipping at his chest.

Your back was arched, your ass sticking out over his lap, and oh, you were just begging to be fucked, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to do anything but what you told him. Not yet at least. He got off on the way you dominated him, the way you took control with no idea that if he wanted to he could have snapped you in half.

Only, if he wanted to.

“Pretty, I want you so bad,” Satoru said through gritted teeth, gazing longingly at you through the mess of his hair. He involuntarily bucked up into you again and you gasped, gripping his shoulder tightly with one hand and onto the hand that gripped your waist with the other.

There you were. He had finally gotten a reaction from you.

Your face darkened, your eyes hard. You looked back up at him with eyes that could kill, expression falling into intensified hunger. Satoru gulped.

You lifted your hips and grinded them forward, pressing them down and swiveling your lower body with rapid pressure. Gojo inhaled sharply, eying the way you slithered across his dick like a goddamn snake, movements glossy and abrupt. His fingers dug into the skin of your waist, curling into the waistband of your panties and stretching at them eagerly.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” you growled, rolling your hips over him again and moaning softly when his bulge rubbed against your clit. “Shit, how fucking big are you, Toru?”

“You would- hah- know if you took my f-fucking cock out, princess,” Satoru moaned, pulling at your hips to keep them in motion. You finally complied, rocking your sopping cunt against him slowly, the friction against your heat sparking waves of pleasure to your brain.

“Mmm, fuck,” you whispered. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Baby, come on,” Satoru begged, encouraging you to keep going. You began to get yourself off, using his hardon to stroke against you dripping pussy as humped his pants, pulling back and pushing in, back and in. “There you go, pretty, grind that pussy onto me. Make yourself feel good…”

“I said- ah- s-shut up!” You pushed him back by his shoulders harshly, holding him still against the back of the chair as you rode him out through your pants, brows furrowed and mouth hanging open. Your pace quickened, your clit throbbing with each grind it took against his length. “Why do you feel like this with fucking pants on?” you breathed out, confounded by howquickly he was making you feel this good.

“Take them-ngh, fuck- o-off, and it’ll feel better.”

You fumed, slapping a hand over Satoru’s mouth as you glided your throbbing pussy into him hard. A muffled groan escaped Satoru’s mouth, eyes threatening to roll back as a string of curses fled your lips.

You wanted him to shut up. No man had ever spoken to you this much, in such a manner that Gojo was encouraging you with that sweet, needy desperation lacing his deep voice. It was only dragging more arousal from your cunt, and you weren’t used to this. You weren’t used to responding to a man’s body and mouth this way.

You usually did all the talking. You were normally the one watching in amusement as a man shook like a leaf underneath you. You were usually the one experiencing less pleasure, but hell, you had only dry humped Satoru for five minutes and your pussy was already pathetically crying for him. And his mouth, god, he just wouldn’t be quiet, and his inability to do so was threatening to weaken you.

You truly did not want to comply with his desires, but you could no longer deny that the both of you longed for the same thing.

You kept your hand secure over Satoru’s mouth, his fucked out gaze drinking you in as you hurriedly unbuckled his belt, fumbling over the straps and leaning away from him momentarily to do so. Satoru’s hands moved to help you, but you pushed them away, pressing against his mouth harder.

“Don’t touch,” you ordered. His groan of frustration and want vibrated against your palm, his hands grabbing immediately into the plush of your exposed ass beneath you bunched dress.

You scooted further down Satoru’s legs so that you could tug his pants down once you got his belt out of the way. You hadn’t even bothered to stand to pull them all the way down, for you were in far too much of a rush to free his dick to care.

Your fingers found the hem of his boxers, ripping them down quickly. Your lips curved back into a smile, your frustration fading, when his gorgeous cock flew free and smacked angrily against Satoru’s abdomen. A smear of shiny precum spread over his skin in his tip’s wake, the pink head oozing generously. Your eyes grew, internally and temporarily stunned by Satoru’s size. He was long, unnaturally so, with bulging veins wrapped around his shaft and trailing upward. A soft tuft of white hair resided above his dick at the end of a teased happy trail.

Your (e/c) eyes admired his entire figure once more, his heaving breathing, sweaty brawny chest, the love bites you left behind, littering his collarbone and either side of his neck within circles of your lipsticks stains that trailed up to his nose behind your hand, his flushed skin, and sex dazed sapphire pools.

“You’re such a pretty boy, Toru,” you praised. A glimmer of light flickered through his pupils in reaction to your gentle words, a stark contrast to the way harshly you pushed into him.

Gradually, you wrapped your free digits around his base. Satoru moaned, broken voice rumbling into your hand. Your tongue touched the top row of your teeth as you reveled in the feeling of his dick in your hand. It twitched within your soft palm, fluttering toward you with a mind of it’s own.

“You wanna do me a favor, baby?” you asked, and Satoru nodded eagerly. “You wanna move my panties to the side so I can slide your pretty dick inside me?”

Satoru trembled, nodding again with fervor. You leaned down and kissed his cheek again.

“Go ahead,” you spurred him on.

The white haired sorcerer wasted no time in reaching under you to rip his fingers into the thin strap of your thong. He stretched the band out desperately before feeling his way further down, freezing when he touched a cool patch of slick dripping from the cloth hiding your pussy from him.

He pushed the fabric aside as you had advised him to and experimentally slid his fingers over your slit, collecting your sticky fluid as it seeped down his palm. His chest jumped with another muffled moan, eyes hardening when your dark lashes flickered and your thighs jerked over him. You were so wet for him, and you were trying not to show it on your face, but Satoru could tell that you were deprived of him, of real, attentive, passionate doting. He could tell that you needed him as much as he needed you.

Satoru allowed his mind to wander as he sank his index finger past your lips and into your warm, gooey walls. You mewled, hips bucking downward. “Satoru,” you warned, but your voice lacked your previous grit. The blue eyed man smirked behind your palm just seconds prior to your removal of it from his mouth. Your lids grew heavy over your eyes as he dragged his finger out and pushed it back in slowly, swirling around your gummy insides. “Ahhh, shit- f-fuck you!” you moaned, the sounds you released so pretty.

“Don’t fight it, gorgeous,” Satoru coaxed, finding his voice again. He plunged his finger deeper inside you, twisting and twirling so slowly that you almost saw stars. “Fucking hell, this pussy is so greedy. She’s sucking in my finger like it’s nothing. Such a perfect cunt for me.”

“St-Stop with that c-cocky shit, oohhh god,” you gasped, lowering yourself back down and ducking your head into Satoru’s shoulder as he worked another finger into you slowly, your juices squelching loudly with their lazy pump in and out.

“So you can be cocky, but I can’t, hm?” he turned to murmur into your hair, listening to the sinful sounds your needy pussy made around his fingers. Your arousal proceeded to flood over him like a pool, drenching his wrist and dripping onto his balls and the wooden chair. “Mmmm, you really like this, baby. You’re drenching me so good, almost like you’ve never been fingered before.”

“This’s exactly-y why I covered y’r mouth,” you mumbled, breath hot against his neck. “You talk too goddamn muchhh, fuck, Toru, right there! Right fucking there, like thattt…”

“Hm? Like this?” he curled the tips of his fingers against your walls and you yelped, notifying him that he had discovered your sweet spot. “Right there, right pretty?”

“I already told you, yes,” you moaned, gripping the back of his chair. “Yes, yes,” you murmured, and Satoru hissed.

“Enjoy it, baby. So pretty. Such a gorgeous girl, such a gorgeous little pussy…”

“Fuck, Satoru,” you exhaled raggedly. The said man made a noise of acknowledgement, hypnotized by the steady stroke of his fingers into you. With your hand still wrapped over his cock, you slid your it up his shaft slowly, squeezing softly. Satoru’s fingers froze inside you, his face burying into your hair.

“Oh my god…” he grunted, closing his eyes. “Your hands are so perfect.”

“You’re whipped,” you teased, lifting your hips up into the air so that his fingers could reluctantly leave.

Satoru studied the stretch of slick that connected his fingers to your cunt as they left your walls. Before he could protest, you were guiding his tip toward you and sliding your sloppy cunt overtop of it.

“(Y/n), fuckkkk,” Satoru drawled, jaw slack while he watched you ease your way down over him. The tip of his puffy dick slowly disappeared within your slimy walls, and his eyes rolled into the back of his skull with the toss of his head backward. His fingernails imprinted into your sides as you sank down, swallowing his girth and taking him into you.

You huffed out, moaning loudly with your hands now pressed into Satoru’s bare chest. His girth was quick to stretch you before you had even made it halfway. A whine caught in the back of your throat as your face tightened. You had never taken someone so big before, and he was filling you up so deliciously. You could feel every twitch, every curve, every ridge and vein of his heavy, lengthy cock as it slipped further into you, your walls tightening instinctively around him the further down you went.

“Oh, baby,” you purred. “Your dick’so… nghhh, shittt!”

“She’s soakin’ me,” Satoru choked out, assisting your glide down with the drag of your hips to his own. “So tight, god, pretty, you can’t be fucking real. You- this fucking pussy, hahhh, that’s it, baby. That’s it, keeping going. All the way. Please, baby, please. Want to fill you up. Need to be all inside this messy cunt.”

“So big,” you mused, watching as he sank into you halfway, and for the first time in your life, you paused. “Fuck, you’re in my stomach!”

“Take it all, honey, take fucking all of it. You got it, pretty girl. Keep going.”

“Don’t- hah- need your help, fucking- fuck!” You sank down further, pushing with the pull of Satoru’s desperate hands. Your breath left your lungs momentarily, Satoru’s long dick sliding up to the hilt of your pussy and stretching you absolutely full. You could feel him everywhere, your bum reaching his balls the moment you saddled onto him completely.

Satoru’s face stilled into blissful emptiness, staring down at where you were connected and the bulge that prodded against your lower tummy. “That’a girl, fuck, you’re so good,” he babbled, hands sliding up your back. His fingers blindly grabbing for a zipper. He peeled it down once he pinched it, curving his hands under your slipping dress as he exposed your bare skin to the empty space.

The straps of your dress fell down your shoulders accordingly, revealing the plush of your pretty tits that peaked over the fabric. Satoru was overwhelmed, struck by your entire being as you warmed his trembling dick, perky nipples pressing into his line of sight as your dress fell around your waist.

Satoru pushed in, pressing his hands to your lower back and arching you into him as he touched his lips to the center of your tits. His dick nudged your insides with the motion and you inhaled sharply, holding onto him tightly.

“Could you be any more fucking perfect,” he grumbled, catching your perky nimble between his lips.

Your body leaned back and he craned forward along with you, hands supporting your weight to him as he teased your nipple between his teeth. His tongue followed swiftly, lapping over your bud and sucking hungrily off your tit, spit drooling from his mouth as he made out with the plush fat. Your moans carried just as your singing had, lifting melodically into the space and bouncing regally off of the confined walls and casting Satoru deeper under your trance.

“Smell s’good, taste so good, feel so, so good. Can’t get enough of you baby, can’t.”

“You’re so sappy,” you whispered, head rolling on your shoulders and eyes closing as your cunt clenched around him in pleasure.

Satoru moaned into your chest, marking up your boobs as you had his neck. “C’mon, baby,” he grunted. “Kill me.”

You were quick to carefully lift your hips, Satoru’s length sliding along your gummy walls. You were slow at first with the withdrawal before lowering yourself down heavily, his cock slamming back into your aching pussy.

You both moaned in unison, and you wasted no more time. You set a steady pace, pushing up and pushing back down to sink over Satoru’s dick, juices leaking and mixing into his precum as you clenched repeatedly around him. You rode him out carefully, nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it,” Satoru purred, peering up at you from under your other tit, eyes dark enough to sink into. “Ride me out, gorgeous, use my cock.”

“Fuck, Toru, you’ve got such a good dick,” you whimpered, reaching up to tug into his hair. Gojo’s eyes rolled, skin slapping lewdly with the collision of your ass rippling against his thighs. The slimy sound of his rock hard cock sliding from your drenched heat was like music to your ears, better than any song you had ever sung, better than any cheers you had ever received.

“Ah-ngh, baby, baby,” Satoru blabbered, already fucked out. “So fucking wet, dripping all over me. Pussy feels so good, so so good…”

“Yeah? You like when I ride your dick, baby? You like being the only one I get to fuck after my show? You like being my toy, tonight?”

“Fuck yes, love it so much. Fucking love the way you fuck this cock, pretty, don’t fucking stop.”

“That’s a good boy, Toru,” you purred, sitting fully onto him mid bounce to roll your hips into his. Satoru moaned loudly, uncaring of his volume. His mouth found your tit again, sucking like a madman as you rode him deeply, ensuring that he felt every corner of your pussy around him and that you felt every glide of his slender cock into your wet heat. “You’re so good, taking my pussy, yeah?”

His cock jerked inside you and he nodded dumbly, tongue swirling desperately over your reddened nipple. You hummed in ecstasy, pushing into him once more and pressing him back as you threw your ass down onto him, slick and pre melting between your connection and stretching with the rapid slaps of your hips into his. You moaned, brows pinching as you brought your lips to Satoru’s parted ones, his groans and whines sliding into your mouth with the insertion of your tongue against his.

“Yessss,” you cooed into him. “So big, you’re filling me up so good.”

“I ca- nghhah,” Gojo was a mess, moaning helplessly as you bounced mercilessly onto his cock, trapping him against you so that neither of you had anywhere to go. “Sl-Slow down, pretty, fuckkk, shit, slow down,” he begged, but you ignored his pleas, bouncing faster as he held your hips shakily.

“Can’t take it, Toru? Hm?”

“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum already, baby, please…”

“So soon?” you nudged, lifting your hips up to roll slowly over his tip before slamming back down, continuing you pace. Satoru choked over his own voice, leaning his head back and slumping into the chair as it rocked angrily beneath your weight, attempting to support your angry thrusts. “Mmm, not surprised, baby. Saw the way you- shit, were looking at me earlier. Saw… saw your pretty hard on from onstage. You wanted my pussy so bad, didn’t you? You wanted to be snug inside me the second you saw me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whimpered, eyes screwed shut. “Needed you. Needed to fuck you in this pretty little slutty dress. Needed my dick in this pussy the moment you laid there in front of me. Fuck, wanted to take you right there,” he whined. His hands slid back to your thighs, pressing and clawing and squeezing.

“I know, pretty boy, I know…”

“S’much better than I imagined. F-Fuck, fucking perfect. You’re so perfect. Fucking me just right, pretty.”

“You’ve got such a filthy mouth,” you groaned, head tossing back when Satoru’s dick brushed against your cervix, veins rubbing against your g-spot as you switched to rocking back and forth over him. Satoru’s hands grabbed your ass, his eyes flickering between the way your tits jiggled with your body and his dick bulged against your lower stomach with your grinding.

You knew just how to treat his dick, keeping him snug within your wet cavern and massaging it with the fluidity of your hips. “Nghmm, right there, Toru. Right thereee,” you sighed, face contorting with pleasure.

“Don’t stop, honey,” he reached a hand up to your face. “Don’t stop, keep going. Make yourself cum on my dick.”

“Fuck!”

“Yeahhhh,” he smoothed his thumb over your cheek. “Gorgeous baby, you look gorgeous.”

“Stop that,” you whimpered through broken moans, attempting to shift away from the warmth of his palm.

“Nuh-uh, pretty, let me look at you,” Satoru laced his fingers into the back of your hair, holding your face steady and your eyes to his. “Need to see those pretty eyes, they make me so hard.”

You couldn’t fight the moan that caught you, eyes swimming into his as you rolled your hips over his cock, eyes growing heavier and heavier as a knot built in your lower abdomen and your cunt clenched more frequently.

“Mhmmm,” Satoru hummed in satisfaction. “Keep looking at me, baby.”

“I said stop the sappy shit,” you gritted out through clenched teeth. You didn’t have time to pull his hand away, however, when his feet planted into the floor and he pushed up into you, throwing his arms around your lower waist to hold you to him. You cried out, curling against his chest as Satoru thrusted up into you desperately, balls slapping up against your skin as his hazy eyes peered over your shoulder to watch the connection.

“Come on, baby,” he grumbled into your ear. “Don’t give me that, let me admire you like you deserve.”

“Aghhhh, fuckkk,” you sobbed, your body rocking wildly with the force of Satoru’s thrusts. “God, m’fucking close.”

“Me too, pretty, me too,” Satoru’s voice dipped down ruggedly, an animalistic hoarseness to his tone. He couldn’t stop, fucking into you like a rabbit as if it was the very last thing on earth he was going to do.

You whined, cunt drooling over him as it prepared you for your orgasm. Your clit rubbed against his rigid abdomen, stimulating your nerves further as you quickly approached.

“Give it to me, princess. Milk my fucking cock.”

“Cum inside, Toru,” you demanded, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. “Want your cum in me…”

“Fuck, baby, fuckkkk- mmmm, shit!”

Like an ocean crashing down onto the shore, your orgasms met each other simultaneously, juices drenching his cock with slippery white cream and sticky fluid. Satoru’s arms tightened around you, his seed splurging into your cunt endlessly, his hips rocking with the continual stream of his hot cum into your aching pussy.

Your moans mixed into each other’s loudly, building into a symphony as you rode out your high, grinding weakly into him as your vision went white.

Satoru’s legs twitched, your own practically numb around his waist. His cum proceeded to leak into you, dripping down your legs and onto the floor. The two of you sat there in your breathless aftermath for a moment, Satoru tucking his nose into your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss there. He felt you sink against him, his hands smoothing gently over your back.

The moment you twitched against him, however, his cock jolted with continuous life. Satoru grunted, pushing himself up into you carefully to ease the remaining ache in his dick. You made a low noise, shifting your hips around him.

“Baby,” Satoru sighed. “Let me bring another one out of you.”

You twisted your head to the side, peeling back to look down at him curiously, slowly. Your eyes were tired, yet still dripping with lust, a soft smile playing at your lips. “Another one?” you repeated, somewhat shocked by his persistence.

“Please,” he whispered. “Need to feel you cum around me again.”

Before you could even respond, he was gripping you tight and standing from his now sticky seat. You kept your legs wrapped around him as he carefully laid you on the table, pushing your purse out of the way.

Satoru leaned over you, kissing your lips hungrily then pulling back to peck down your chest and stomach. He was suddenly so soft, caressing you and kissing you, and you watched suspiciously, unfamiliar and normally opposing this kind of contact.

Yet, you allowed Satoru to proceed.

His hands smoothed over your waist, his pants falling to his ankles. He yanked your bunched dress up and over your head, ridding your waist of the clothing article and throwing it carelessly to the side. He yanked your panties down further and slid a thumb over your clit, rubbing gentle, soothing circles over your sensitive, sopping bundle of nerves.

You jolted, feeling his cock harden inside you again as he locked your lips together. He kept his finger rolling over your soaked clit, swallowing your mewls and soft moans into his mouth.

Your hands flew to his shoulders as he pushed into you gently, his cum dripping from your entrance and squishing back up into your cunt with his soft thrust. You broke your lips from his and moaned against him, angling your brows as your pleasure built back up in an instant.

“Let me take care of this pretty pussy,” Satoru mumbled gently. “Seems like y’always take care of everyone else.”

“Satoru-“

“Shhh,” he hushed you as a broken moan fanned over his lips. He pulled back and thrusted back into you again, watching how your mouth froze open cutely and your eyes hardened. “Wanna keep feeling you. Let me keep feeling you.”

“Oh godddd…”

“Yeah, baby, yeah,” Satoru mumbled against you, pussy-drunk. He slid in and out of you with ease, pressing between your legs and pushing fully into you, ensuring that you felt every inch of him gliding back into your pretty cunt, stuffing your cunt back up with his cum. “Could stay in this pussy forever. Shit, she’s so loud. Such a good pussy. My good pussy.”

“Y-gonna split me in h-half,” you stammered, and Satoru grinned a dopey fucked out smile as he gazed at you.

“Look at you, baby,” he cooed, setting a slow pace that gradually picked up speed, rocking into you with the continuous swift caress of your clit. Your body was twitching, brows furling into the sky. “God, fucking look at you. M’so lucky, so lucky I got to have you tonight and not those other- f-fucking, ngh- bastards staring you up and down. Tonight, this pussy is for me. She’s treating me so good.., ruining me for any other pussy.”

“Uhhh, Toru,” you quivered. Satoru responded swiftly, bucking his hips and plowing into you rapidly, watching as your chest stuttered with shattered breaths and your legs writhed around him the quicker he moved circles over your puffy clit. “Gonna- fuck, what the fuckkk, gonna cum againnn…”

“Fuck, can’t get enough of you. Want you to come undone, baby, let go. Let gooo.”

You clawed at his arms, watching his fingers work over your clit and his dick spear into your quivering walls. You dragged your nails down his bicep, leaving bright red scratches, but Satoru couldn’t have cared less.

You came again without warning, liquid gushing around his dick with your stunning cries. Satoru’s eyes glazed over, hand ripping from your clit so that he could cage over you, pressing his body down into yours as he demolished your pussy, squirt sprouting over his skin and with each pull away before he thrusted back in. Your fluids flew everywhere, and Satoru kept going.

“Fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, give it to me, baby, fuck meeee, fuck me harder, Toru!”

You were fucking insatiable. You clawed at his back as his inhumane strength kicked in, his hips snapping against yours with feral aggression, grunting and crying out into your ear.

“Keep squirting on my dick, baby, just fucking like that. You’re so fucking good, love this sloppy cunt. It’s all for me, pretty, all for me.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Satoru wasn’t far behind you. He snapped himself into you three more times before stilling with a hefty groan, ropes more of his cum pooling into you and spilling onto the ground. He kept his body locked on top of yours, legs kicking around his torso as he fed you his seed, moaning pathetically into your skin. If you weren’t on birth control, you were absolutely sure that Satoru Gojo would have gotten you pregnant.

You huffed heavily, closing your eyes to catch your breath and soak in the silence. Never in your life had you been fucked the way this man had just fucked you at your place of work, and never in your life had you been worshipped or handled the way he had done so to you, despite your understanding of your impact on men.

You laughed suddenly once recovered, body jumping with your amusement. Satoru lifted his head from you, peering down at you, dazed, with his own gentle smile on his lips.

“What’s funny?” he murmured, eyes taking you in like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Nothing, I just- don’t know what I expected from you,” you sighe.

Satoru tilted his head. “In a good or bad way?”

“A fucking good way.”

Your response was enough to have Satoru beaming, lowering his forehead to rest on your chest momentarily. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he breathed. “You really are something else, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“No, really,” he lifted his head for a final time to lock eyes. “I mean it.”

Your face fell slightly as he looked at you. You sucked your teeth, pushing him away the moment your cheeks tingled. “You’re still too sappy.”

Satoru laughed softly. “How could I not be when you’re talented, gorgeous, and you have the best pussy I’ve ever felt in my life?”

“You’re telling me stuff I already know, honey. I’ve heard it all before..”

“Guess I’ll just tell you again and again,” Satoru grinned, stealing a swift kiss from your nose before sitting up carefully, looking down at where the two of you were still connected. “Uhhh… you wouldn’t happen to have a towel around here, do you?”

You grimaced, sitting up on your shoulders to survey the mess that kept the two of you united. You looked up at him, corners of your lips twitching.

“How about we give each other head, lick it up, and call it a night?”

Satoru whipped his head back up to stare at you with wide eyes. You knew you had steered into the right direction when you felt his length harden inside you again.

“Sounds good to me,” he smirked.

•

The following day, Satoru dialed Utahime’s at around one pm. The line rang for a bit before it finally picked up.

“What?” the woman growled into the mic.

“Utahimeee,” Satoru greeted cheerfully, instantly feeling the aggravation wave off of the brown eyed women from the other end of the line. “How are you today?”

“Fine, Gojo. What do you want?”

“Nothing, really. I just wanted to call to tell you that you were right all along. I’m humble enough to admit that. Last night was undoubtedly the best staff outing that we’ve ever had, and it was all thanks to you. I’ll let you plan the things we do more often now,” he beamed.

“…”

Satoru could envision her pinching the bridge of her nose while her other hand pressed the phone to her ear.

Satoru’s lips tugged downward as he tried to hold back the amused laugh that was threatening to leave him. “You there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Oh. Did you hear what I said?”

“You two had sex, didn’t you?”

“Whatttt?” Satoru scoffed. “Me and who?”

“WHO ELSE, IDIOT?!”

The blue eyed man chuckled slightly. “Look, I never kiss and tell.”

“Then why did you call me?!”

“To thank you for your evening suggestion, obviously,” he said. “Oh, and to tell you that I put your little inquiry to the test.”

“What inquiry?”

“That (Y/n) would break me.”

Utahime exhaled loudly. “I really don’t want to hear about that details-“

“I told you already. I don’t kiss and tell,” Satoru reassured. “But, I will say, she’s really not all that evil.”

“I never said she was evil.”

“You said something along those lines.”

“Yes, I meant she schemes. You had sex with her once, Gojo. As long as it stays that way, it’ll be fine. But the longer you spend time with her, the deeper you’ll fall, and the faster you’ll be torn to shreds. She’s my friend and I love her, but I know very well how she gets with men. I’ve seen it a hundred times over.”

Satoru pursed his lips, thinking back to the two of you exchanging numbers after he had walked you home.

“Utahime, let’s not forget who’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern age here. I’ll be fine. I don’t risk falling for anyone.”

“…yeah, that’s what they all say.”

Satoru didn’t take Utahime’s warning seriously, of course. You were too pretty for him to turn away from you so quickly, and if you were willing to keep a casual relationship that didn’t interfere with his line of work or your separation from so, he didn’t see any harm in the matter.

Satoru Gojo was the strongest to roam this planet, yes, but you had still somehow managed to bring the strongest to a point of vulnerability, to a place where he was willing to release his technique for you effortlessly, which he never did in the presence of anyone outside of his students, let alone for a non-sorcerer.

Satoru could absolutely understand and physically see where Utahime was coming from, for your impact on him was strangely inhumane despite you being one yourself but hell, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get you out of his head if he didn’t at least stop by to see you perform and feel himself inside you one more time, if anything.

After all, what could have been the harm in that?

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eumppattv · 10 months

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OOPS, IV’E FALLEN IN LOVE | enha ft. hybe game caterers

enhypen falling in love with you during hybe game caterers

pairing ot7 x idol!reader genre ᩍ fluff, love at first sight warnings ꕁ none ➜ masterlist enha permanent taglist here! a/n: requests are open :)

heeseung ☆ ⊹ ๑

you stepped up, handing heeseung the microphone. you had expressed how you admired him as a vocalist, and that was enough for him to join you in the duet. the goal was for you to get a perfect score in the karaoke machine, and he was determined to make it happen. he was so focused on his part, until he heard your voice. it was like a siren, pulling him in until he couldn’t remember where he was standing. after you finished your line, he just started at you. the mc said something about heeseung forgetting his line, but he was too focused on you to hear. he just wanted to hear your voice again.

jay ☆ ⊹ ๑

jay was totally messing up. he had a song blasting in his ears, and was desperately trying to concentrate on your lips. you were saying something, but he couldn’t decipher it. then it happened; you smiled at him. let’s just say he forgot about the game right then and there. you were laughing because no matter how much you slowed down you speech, he still could not guess the word. but now your laughing had him flustered, the tips of his ears turning red. he didn’t care how long the game would take because of his confusion- he just wanted to see you smile at him again.

jake ☆ ⊹ ๑

jake had never met anyone as competitive as him. you were on the field for the soccer portion of the day. you ran up on the field, cheering your team on. then you were called as team captain to walk up to enhypen captain, jake. now face to face, you were asked about your strategy for the game. you replied that there was no strategy because you were just that good. that made jake laugh, and he gave a cocky reply back. throughout the game, there was some banter between you two, until finally your team came out victorious. you stuck your tongue out at jake, and he laughed. he did not stop talking about you to the boys when they returned to their table.

sunghoon ☆ ⊹ ๑

we all know the moment in the last game caterers, where sunghoon forgot eunchae’s name and had to look at her name tag. so this year, they decided to make a game specifically for him: name that idol. there were 5 idols in line, with you being at the end. your name tags were off, the goal being for sunghoon to go down the line and name each one of you. of course he went down the line, giving them different names or just simply giving up on even giving them names. then he got to you, and to everyone surprise- he knew your name. truth is he had been watching you throughout the day, and had learned your name easily. you were definitely special in his eyes.

sunoo ☆ ⊹ ๑

sunoo was tired, and incredibly hungry. as he ran the last lap, he felt a breeze pass by- followed by high pitch cheering. you had won, which meant you would be getting all the food for your team, including the mint chocolate ice cream. he quietly made his way back to the members, sitting down in his chair. his stomach growled, as he put his head down on the table. suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he sprung up in surprise. there you were, with a plate of food and a sweet smile. and there he was, heart full, eating his food while staring at you from across the field.

jungwon ☆ ⊹ ๑

they wanted to do a martial arts segment in this years game caterers. of course jungwon was a part of the event, but little did he know he would go up another martial artist turned idol; you. at first he was a little hesitant, talking to the host about how he didn’t want to hurt you. well, one thing to to another, and here he was. flipped onto the ground, you on top of him with the biggest smirk playing on your face. he was shocked to say the least, but seeing you beat him sparked his interest in you. by the end of the day, he was head over heels. he liked that you were strong, and he was looking forward to seeing you around.

ni-ki ☆ ⊹ ๑

it was the last round of random play dance. only two idols remained, both being the main dancers in their groups. you and ni-ki stepped up, your bodies moving to the familiar beat. suddenly, ni-ki froze up, forgetting the next move. he glanced over to you, hoping you hadn’t made the same mistake. instead he found you dancing your heart out, as if the song belonged to your group. anyone could see the hearts in his eyes. he hadn’t paid much attention to you or anyone during the day, but now he couldn’t look away from you. he had never seen anyone move so elegantly, and look so beautiful.

🝮 taglist open!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ eumppattv #kflixnet #kfilms #en web #enhypen headcanons #enha #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen yang jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunoo #enhypen sunghoon #enha headcanons #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader

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saintslewis · 4 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: tattoo artist!lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: in which reader needs a good tattoo artist to help her vision come to life and lewis, a mutual friend, is recommended and is more than happy to help you out.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, mentions of tattoo needles, mentions of w33d, smut (18+ mdni), pet names, just read 🫵🏽 (buckle in, frens) sorry for typos!

saint’s team radio 🎀: heyyyy! this spawned in my mind in the middle of the night and my super talented fren @mauvecherie-writes came up with this masterpiece. hope you all enjoy 🤭. (anon i hope this does your request justice!)

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @httpsserene @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @peyiswriting @purplelewlew @alika-4466 @arshiyuh @yeea-nah @louvrepool @motheroffae @lorarri

pls like, reblog and comment! 🫶🏽

pls note, the lady in the header does not represent the reader! 🫶🏽

“You’ve been sitting there thinking so hard, I could see steam comin’ out your head.” Marie laughed as she walked close to you with two mimosas in her hand, handing one to you. The get-together she occasionally hosts with all of your mutual friends was in full swing, everyone in different corners of the huge house.

Giving her an eye roll, you sipped on the drink before answering. “Girl, fuck you.” You cussed, hearing her laugh. Following close behind her was another one of your friends, Lani. Her kitten heels clacked against the tiled floor as she sat next to you on the light blue couch.

“What’s going on, what’s the tea?” She sipped on her drink and held onto it and she looked at you. “Well my lovely friends, I’ve been thinking about getting a back tattoo for a good minute now.” You replied, leaning back into your seat as your friends gasped with excitement.

Marie held your manicured hand in excitement, “Girl oh my god, it’s going to look so good on you!”. Lani then put her drink down then sat up to look at you properly. “What you gonna get? How big?” She asked.

“A red dragon maybe. Covering the whole thing, It’s been on my mind.” You answered, looking between your excited friends. “Anddd you’re wearing a backless dress right now! Y/n, you better get this damn tattoo.” Marie said, still very much holding onto your hand.

“Anddd it’s going to look great during backshots.” Lani smiled and that earned her a smack on her arm from you.

“Stop thinkin nasty. I just want it because I think it’ll look good with all those backless clothes I got.” You admitted although the thought of it made your skin a little warm. “So what’s stopping you from getting it, bae? ‘Cause I’m excited like I’m getting it.” Marie gushed. “Can’t find a good artist around here who caters red ink for black people.” You shrugged.

It was tough trying to find tattoo artists in your city, much less those who work well with red ink. Most were extremely pricey, others worked with complicated pieces and only wanted pieces like portraits or lions or they just left you on read after attempting to make an appointment.

A moment passed by and Lani smacked your leg repeatedly as she came to a realisation. The look of unspoken excitement travelled between your friends and soon enough, you knew they were plotting something.

“Y/n, oh my goodness you genius!” Marie exclaimed and that made your eyebrows furrow even more with confusion.

“Okay, I am very confused by what is happening so I’m just going to grab another snack.” You voiced out and you couldn’t even move because both women held you down as they smiled like maniacs.

Lani nodded first then turned her head to look at you. “Okay okay. Y/n, we’ve got the perfect artist for you. D’you remember Lewis?” She grinned and you tried to think about it fully.

Lewis, Lewis…oh god, that Lewis. The incredibly beautiful man you met through your clearly unhinged friends at a housewarming party two years ago. He was that type of distant crush that would never go away even if you tried and it didn’t help that he was the quiet type who would hang out with your large friend group every now and then.

“…uh huh. What about him?” You replied, hoping that no one heard your voice almost falter at the mention of him. “He’s a tattoo artist! I don’t know how I forgot but that man just keeps to himself for real.” Lani chuckled before continuing. “But yeah anyways, he could do it for you!”

Never in a million years would you think that he would be a tattoo artist and funnily enough, his arm is filled with them. You actually had no clue what he did, always curious whenever you saw the G Wagon that he would hop into after any get-together was over.

“I don’t know, you guys. I’d have to talk to him first about everything and that seems like a lot. I don’t wanna bother the guy to squeeze in someone who has no clue what they’re doing-” You stopped your ramble once you realised that your friends were just staring at you.

“Girl, you never ramble like that unless you find a dude cute.” Marie teased as she watched you avoid eye contact with her. Smacking your lips, you shook your head and tried to appear like this news didn’t phase you.

So focused on the subject at hand, you didn’t notice that Lani was gone. Finally hearing the familiar clack of her heels, you looked up and your breath hitched. You had just denied even thinking about him but there stood Lewis, quietly chewing on his gum with a glint in his eyes as he looked at you.

With your hand still in Marie’s hold, she squeezed it as she stood up and moved to stand next to Lani. “Lewis, you remember Y/n, right? An absolute beaut.” Lani started. “Anywho, my good sis wants a tattoo and obviously, you came to my mind. Aight, see y’all later.” She continued and just like that, her and Marie disappeared.

“I’m sorry for them, they can get a lil crazy.” You spoke, offering your hand to him and he gently shook your hand with both of his large ones. “They’ve also had some green gummies so I get it.” He smiled and that alone, just sent you to another dimension.

He’s British. You made sure to make little notes along the way.

And he dressed incredibly well. Sleeveless white shirt, white cargos, air force ones and his huge tattooed arms on display. The jewellery making the outfit look all the more good.

It also didn’t help that your dress was the same shade of white as his entire outfit.

“Although we’ve briefly met before, I’m Lewis. Nice seeing you again.” He introduced himself, not breaking any eye contact with you and he could tell you weren’t expecting to see him. “Y/n. I’m sure those two already told you why they dragged you here,” You nervously smiled. “Didn’t wanna waste your time with my questions.”

“You’re good, love. Wanna sit down and talk about it?” Lewis asked, pointing to the couch you were just sitting on. This area of the house wasn’t crowded so you could hear each other clearly.

The nickname he called you by threw you into a loop, nodding at him as a response because you couldn’t come up with one on the spot.

The two of you went on to speak on everything revolving around the tattoo. Your experiences trying to find a good enough artist that you wanted to feel comfortable with, the placement of it and the design. There were all types of jokes thrown into the conversation, making you feel comfortable. He also listened, nodding and replying after you spoke.

“So I’ve got two options if I decide to chicken out of the dragon one.” You said, twiddling your fingers as you still avoided eye contact with Lewis. “Alright even though my favourite would have to be the dragon.” He winked, chewing his gum.

You flushed hearing him say that. You couldn’t imagine being naked in front of him, letting your body be a canvas he gets to work on. Of course you would like to be naked in another way but that couldn’t happen. He definitely has to have someone in his life. Would he though if he just winked at you? Or was he just playing with you because he can sense you’re shy-

“Y/n, love, you still with me?” Lewis worried a tad bit as he watched you zone out on him. Shaking yourself out of it, you were grounded by his eyes boring into yours. Clearing your throat slightly, you asked a different question. “Uh if I do go ahead with it, where will we be?”

“Right now, my studio is under renovations so I’ve got my home studio. Hope that’s okay with you, anything to help you be comfortable.” He reassured, sitting back and the sight of him just sitting so confidently had you squirming in your seat, having to cross your legs.

“That’s fine,” your voice reaching an octave higher than normal. “What was the other design, sweetie? Haven’t done a tattoo on a client in a while so I’m grateful that I’ll be the one who gets to work on this.” Lewis mentioned, watching you lose your train of thought everytime you two locked eyes and he found it quite endearing.

“…A lower back tattoo, preferably a word or a heart.” You muttered, Lani’s words running through your mind. Stop, you can’t think about that right now. “That’s a nice one.” He commented, tilting his head and admired your shyness.

Ever since he laid his eyes on you, Lewis had made it his mission to find a way to get with you. He was in awe everytime you would show at one of the many games nights or celebrations, looking effortlessly beautiful yet timid as well. He hadn’t known if you were single until a mutual friend mentioned you and blind dates in the same sentence.

Lewis thanked the universe for giving him the chance to do his favourite thing with the woman he had fancied.

After a bit more conversation, you had managed to get his number and bid goodbye to him, a very warm hug from him to you, and you hurried to your car to take several deep breaths afterwards. After not being intimate with anyone for a long while, you were embarrassed that a single conversation left you in a puddle with an all too familiar feeling in your stomach.

Consoling yourself whilst driving, you grew excited for the week ahead for the tattoo, of course.

Darting your eyes between your phone and the house you were currently parked outside of, you felt confused although your gps led you to the correct address.

“Sis c’mon, he wore a cartier bracelet like it was nothing.” You joked to yourself, trying to keep yourself at ease with the fact that your entire back will be filled with ink very soon.

Clearly the camera right by the gate was able to see you and the gate opened up for you. Finally parking next to the car you were familiar with, you fixed up your outfit. You tried walking to the front door with an excruciatingly slow pace to try and calm your nerves but as soon as Lewis opened the door, that all went out the window. His gaze was piercing as he leaned on the door frame, watching you twiddle with your nails and walk over to him with the same shy energy you held the other day.

“You can’t be lookin at people like that, Lewis.” You spoke with a slight smile, being welcomed into his large home. “Like how, Y/n?” He smiled as he closed the front door behind him, admiring every inch of your body.

“Like you wanna eat me alive.” You chuckled, choosing to not feel his glare on you after you said that. He chuckled as well, deciding to not comment and wanting you to be comfortable first.

“Anything you need before we start, love? You seem nervous.” Lewis asked, placing his hand on your back and lead you towards his home tattoo studio. An incredibly large room with decor that screamed Architectural Digest, the tattoo chair stitched with his initials ‘LH’ and a candle was lit, a ocean-like scent wafting through the air. You had told him that you liked that candle scent all those days ago and the fact that he remembered made you blush.

Low rnb music was playing and a calm atmosphere washed over you as soon as you entered the room.

“It’s my first big tattoo, of course i’m nervous about it.” You replied with a sigh, plopping down on the soft couch and placed your phone on the record player stand.

Playing with the band of your shorts, you knew he was looking at you from the doorway. “Also it’s a lil silly but I don’t even know if this shit will look good on me, y’know? I wanted this but i guess it’s just the nerves.” You continued.

Not even hearing him move from his spot, you lifted your head to see him crouched down in front of you. His tattooed hands landed on your thighs without breaking eye contact with you. “Can I tell you what I think?” He asked. All you could do was nod. He hadn’t touched you in the way you wanted but in an instant, you could feel a puddle forming.

“On you, it will be the best piece I’ve done because it was made to sit on your body. A canvas that people will get to admire, a canvas that you’ve given me the honour to work on.” He continued, hands barely moving from your legs.

Taking a breath, you finally got the strength to respond to what he said. “Are you always this poetic to your clients?” You tried to joke but his eyes were glued to yours, the same way he looked at you at the housewarming.

“It took me a while to garner the confidence to talk to you, to just be in your presence. Every time I had the luck to see you, I would cherish it because we wouldn’t be in the same room all the time. I want the time we have here to be meaningful. And before you make that adorable timid face, yes, I have always found you attractive.” He spoke and you were just speechless.

“Are you serious?” You managed to speak, your voice becoming softer the more you accepted everything he was saying.

“Would you like me to show you how serious I am about you?” Lewis shifted his legs so that he could kneel in front of you. You could see the truth in his eyes as he spoke, darting between your eyes and lips.

You whimpered and you couldn’t control it, his hold on you was so strong.

“I need your words, princess.”

“Please. Please show me, Lewis.” You whined out.

That was all it took for him to begin to reach for the band of your shorts but you put your hands on his to stop. His eyebrows furrowed and before he spoke, you went for it. “Kiss me.” You breathed out. Lewis stood to his full height then sat on the couch next to you, pulling you onto his lap.

You made the first move and leaned in, your lips moving together in sync as he kissed you passionately. His hand held the back of your neck, bringing even closer while his other hand trailed down your arched back.

Your whimpers echoed throughout his home studio as he pulled away from the kiss, watching you try and grind to get some sort of pleasure in. Gently putting his hands on your waist, he guided you and you gasped as you felt his length, long and hard. Just waiting for you.

It felt unbearable, a knot in your stomach needed to be released and you threw you head back, just wanting to wash over the arousal. Lewis watched how you pleasured yourself on him, your denim clothes restricting the both of you from connecting skin to skin. “You enjoying yourself, darling?” He licked his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes clouded with lust.

You wanted to respond, desperately, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. The warmth from the two of you became stronger, him leaning up to begin peppering kisses on your necks and not wanting to create any marks just yet. “..Yes.” You managed to breathe out and you loved the feeling of his large hands roaming around your body, not able to get enough of you.

Lewis held your hips firmly, halting your movement and that made you want to cry out of not getting a release. “Lewis, please.” You whined and he chuckled against your neck. “Take your clothes off and lie down, princess.” He said, looking at your cute angry face with a slight pout evident.

Instead of doing what he said, you just looked at him in the eyes clearly wanting to start a challenge. However, he knew his gaze made you weak. It was one of his many charms. All he had to do was slightly tilt his head and it had you standing up and slowly taking your clothes off, him following suit. You oggled at him, his tattoos gracefully placed on his skin making your mouth water.

With you laid down on the couch, he crawled up your body and crashed his lips into yours. He held your neck so gently as he kissed your jawline then your neck all the way down to where you needed him the most. Lewis laid between your legs to admire your clothed core, giving praise to your thighs and ass as he planted a kiss on your inner thighs.

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he started licking all around your clit until he planted his mouth on it, your moans bouncing off the walls as Lewis devoured you like you were his dinner. Sticking his tongue in and fucking you with it was really the cherry on top, your hand flying to his head to keep it in place and you ground into his face.

Screaming as he entered two fingers in your pussy, you felt a tear slide down at the immense pleasure he was giving you. It had been a very long time since someone had gone down on you but never had you orgasmed from head before. Until now.

Lewis licked you clean as he climbed up and kissed you so that you could taste yourself. You could tell he wanted to say something but you reached your hand to palm him through his pants, watching the different expressions on his face. Slapping the side of your thigh, he held your face.

“Bend over for me, princess.” With a smile on his face and you knew you were going to be here a while.

The buzzing of the tattoo gun sounded out through the room, Lewis wiped the dripping ink from his canvas. He was doing the last bit of work to fully complete his piece on you, the ink contrasting beautifully with your skin.

Finally switching it off and clearing his station to prepare for the clean up and to place the plastic cover on, he lightly smacked your ass to wake you up. “Darling, we’re finally done.” Lewis softly said, already focused on the clean up.

You hummed, “That’s amazing, baby. Thank you.” You spoke all drowsy from the nap you took earlier and the buzzing feeling of your body even after the tattooing gun isn’t touching your skin. Not to mention the sativa joint you smoked together before the final session.

You and Lewis kept this arrangement going, him saying that once he finished his artwork on your back, he’d take you on a date to wherever you want to go and you agreed. The mutual crush you had on each other transcended to a different level, becoming almost domestic every moment you spent together.

“Can I see it?” You asked, rising up from the chair and you looked at him while batting your eyelashes. “Of course you can, princess.” Lewis leaned down to peck your lips then led you to the mirror. You gasped when you saw your dream tattoo, sitting perfectly on your back and your mind was running wild with thoughts already.

“The backshots with this tattoo are going to be amazing.” You giggled and he just rolled his eyes. “Okay that’s enough weed for you, baby.” Lewis chuckled then lightly tapped your ass.

“You were thinking it though!”

saint’s notes 🪩: mind you this has been sitting here since feb 🧍🏽‍♀️. this is dedicated to @mauvecherie-writes , thank you for your patience fren 🤭 and yes the monaco fit made me go feral.

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #saint writes #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smut

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thewritetofreespeech · 5 months

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Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.

He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.

It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.

With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”

He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”

“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”

He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.

“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”

“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”

“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”

‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”

“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”

Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”

They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”

“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”

He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.

“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”

They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”

He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#castlevania #alucard castlevania #castlevania alucard #castlevania scenarios #castlevania imagine #alucard x reader #castlevania alucard x reader #castlevania x reader #imagine #scenarios #castlevania imagines #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes

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gucciwins · 1 year

Text

don't know where we're going

Harry invites Y/N on tour as his opening artist...he wasn't expecting to fall in love

Word count: 26,709

A/N: hola mis amores 💜 here is this new story for you. it might have been a long time but I promise I will always come back. come talk to me about the new story

Warnings: smut (female pleasure)

Love on Tour had come to an end. The final show was here tonight in Italy, and Y/N was excited. Her band had shared they couldn’t sleep or eat from their nerves, but Y/N felt at ease. She had always felt at home on stage. Tonight would be no different.

When Y/N’s mother realized her daughter loved to sing, she put on even more musicals for her to watch and sing along to. Y/N’s mother, Reina, never got tired of her daughter’s voice, and with her encouragement, Y/N began to play in bars, anywhere that would give her the time and space. A producer one day approached her after doing two songs in a coffee shop, telling her she had a chance to make it. He handed her a card and made her promise she’d call. She almost didn’t.

Her mother gave her the courage to call, and her life changed. They got her time in the studio, where she got to present her ideas and songs. The team supported her, and from then on, Y/N Y/LN became a person to be on the lookout for. She had writing sessions with Julia Michaels that allowed her to learn that not only did she have the liberty to write everything she felt but that with experience comes inspiration. As she began to record, she knew she had to think about the future of a tour. Not soon after, she met her guitarist Felix at a sports bar, where they bonded over their mutual love for Formula One. Felix introduced her to June, who became her drummer, and their bassist is Quinn, June’s brother.

The venues Y/N had booked out always surprised her because, despite its small capacity, every show was always sold out. Her first single blew through the charts; it got her name out there. Her first tour around the UK was a success and allowed her to begin playing festivals. Y/N was happy with how her life turned out and had no idea it could improve.

Y/N loved her job. She loved being on stage and connecting with fans. She loved touring with her favorite people. She lived a comfortable life doing what she loved. Y/N had a large fanbase, not popstar sensation fame, but it’s not what she was searching for. It was why she had to think about her answer when she found out the biggest pop star of her generation wanted her to open up for his final leg in Europe. It didn’t make sense because Y/N clearly knew about Harry Styles. She didn’t know he knew about her.

He’s a big fan.

Zane Lowe played him a song, and he was hooked.

Harry saw you play one night and has followed you ever since.

The exposure would be good for you.

Harry would like to meet with you before you make a choice.

The choice was clear for everyone but Y/N. She had never met the man, and while the pay would be incredible, she wasn’t willing to go on tour with someone she did not get on with. The meeting with Harry turns out to be a success. He comes in full of smiles, a bit bashful when his manager points out how big a fan he is. Harry doesn’t deny it; it makes her trust him because he’s genuinely a fan of her music, and she admires that. Y/N returns the compliment, stating that she learned to play “Fine Line” on the piano because it was her favorite. Her manager Zahra shared that she cried when she first heard it because she wished she had written the song. Harry blushed at the compliment while Y/N tried to brush past it. Thankfully, Harry was polite and thanked her. While everyone got to work on paperwork, it gave Y/N a moment to speak with Harry alone. Y/N started the conversation because Harry sat there quietly, simply enjoying observing her.

“Thank you for the opportunity. My band and I are excited,” she expressed.

Harry grins, “thank you for agreeing.”

“I hear stadiums are what you’ll likely be sticking to.”

“Scared,” he teased.

Y/N shrugs, “I never imagined singing in front of that capacity if I’m honest. I think it’s easier because no one will be there for me.”

“I will be. Will watch every night,” he promises.

Y/N waves him off, “wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”

“Didn’t think you were. I hope we share the stage one day, maybe sing a song together.”

“If we make it to the end of this, you can come out during my set,” she teases.

“It would be my honor.”

That was the start of Harry and Y/N’s friendship.

Y/N loved playing dress up. On stage, she got to wear whatever she wanted. It’s a big reason she enjoyed seeing what Harry would pick each night. Y/N loved spinning, and the perfect accessory to do so was a skirt, specifically a mini skirt. She remembers thrifting in a little shop in Dublin, where she found the perfect pink mini, and from there, it became part of who she was. From baby tees to oversized cargo pants to skirts, the one constant was the platforms that always gave her that extra height.

Y/N knew she had to honor her mother each night she was on stage, and because the earliest memory Y/N has is sitting in front of the mirror as her mother tied ribbons and bows in her hair, she made it a tradition to keep them in. Y/N swore she had one that fit all of her outfits, and if it didn’t, she didn’t mind getting her scissors and cutting up a bit of clothing.

She is now a few shows in and is having the time of her life. Y/N gets to play her music every night and enjoys seeing Harry perform. Then, she ends each night by discussing her favorite parts with Harry. Y/N doesn’t remember how it happened, but Y/N doesn’t go to sleep unless she has spoken to Harry; by now, it’s part of her routine. The friendship she is building with him makes her feel at ease on stage each night. One night, they talked about their inspiration, and Y/N told him she was inspired by all around her. From her friends to movies to even books she has read. She wrote “Another Love” based on Gus and January, a couple from a book she read. It’s easy to be inspired because she lets every bit of emotion change her.

“Your music is sad,” Harry tells her one night.

Y/N frowns, “excuse me.”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I’m leaving,” she goes to stand up, but he stops her by holding onto her wrist.

“Hear me out,” he pleads. She settles deeper into her seat. “I enjoy it. I think it’s the best music I have ever heard, and it’s so sad because it’s your real emotions and reactions. You’re putting your heart out there; sometimes the sadness wins out.”

Y/N knows he’s right, but that doesn’t mean she has to say that. “Well, you’re always horny.”

Harry burst out laughing, “fair.”

“I’d never sing about watermelons with you,” she fakes disgust.

Harry’s interest has now peaked. “What would you sing?”

“Fine line, but not with you. I’d add it to my setlist if I was on tour now.”

Harry didn’t know she really loved a song like that. “That’s–wow. Thank you.”

“Realistically, I’d do Daylight. She's a bop.”

Y/N laughs when she sees Harry nodding. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he promises.

At the following show, Y/N kept thinking back to what Harry said about how her music carries a sadness. She doesn’t mean to, but it’s the type of melodies that soothe her. It’s clear from the fanbase she has created that her fans also like it.

“Mr. Styles says I have sad music as if he didn’t write Matilda,” she teases. “Kidding, we all know Cherry is his saddest song. While some songs are sad, you can still dance to them, so this is “Sorry.” Please sing if you know it. If not, that’s okay too.”

Harry greets her when she walks off stage. “Did you enjoy that, boss man?” Y/N’s running on a high; all she wants to do is spend time with Harry, but he has to get ready.

“You’re my favorite part of every show,” he tells her genuinely.

Y/N feels her face heat up, but she knows where this could head and decides to stay clear. She pats his shoulder and walks away. “Good luck, Harry,” she calls out as she turns the corner, leaving Harry standing alone, wondering how he’d work up the courage to ask Y/N out.

Another day, another show. Except today, Y/N saw a familiar face and had to bring it up.

“I’ve seen you before. You look very pretty.” Y/N compliments the fan with a black baby tee with bedazzled cherries and glitter pants. “You’re coming to the shows because of me,” Y/N repeated, shocked. “But it’s the Harry Styles show!” Y/N leans closer, listening to the fan share that she’s their favorite artist. The fan had traveled from Iceland to be here tonight because it’s the only place she managed to get tickets. Then, she decided to try attending as many shows as possible before returning home. Y/N felt so much gratitude, making her want to hug this person. While Y/N couldn’t jump down, she thought of the next best thing. “Do you want to sing this one with me? Can we do that?” Y/N looks side-stage at her tour manager, and she’s shaking her head in disappointment, but no one is stopping her. “Come on up.” The fan is helped over the barricade and guided upstairs to meet her. Y/N hugs the fan tightly, thanking her for everything, and Y/N tells her she hopes to see her in the crowd again. “Everyone, this is Sasha! She’s part of the band tonight. Now, Sasha, do you know ‘The Band and I,’” Y/N checks.

“Word for word,” Sasha assures her.

“Wonderful, you’re all in for a treat. Hit it, Junie!” Y/N shouts.

Walking off the stage that night, Y/N is flying on a high. She smiles with the band; she sees Harry leaning against a wall with a smirk. “Breaking all the rules, huh, almost gave Jeff a heart attack.”

Y/N grimaces, “am I in trouble?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “I enjoyed it, and I'm the boss. So no.”

She sighs in relief, “I-I just felt grateful. This is your tour,” she emphasizes. “And for the fan to enjoy my music and know the lyrics to a song I wrote, which I haven’t officially released yet, overwhelmed me. Playing in front of an audience has always been my dream, but having my lyrics sung back to me is not something I ever let myself imagine.”

Harry smiles, and she knows he understands. He doesn’t have to say a word. His eyes say it all for her. Y/N is thankful she joined this tour, and while she admires Harry, she knows she can’t forget to keep her boundaries up because she knows they will only begin to fall with time.

It was early March when Harry changed their relationship. Y/N enjoyed time with her band, but sometimes she needed to be alone. She used the time to write or simply enjoy the silence, even for a few minutes. Harry offered her a private space where he kept his piano. He traveled everywhere with it, and while Y/N thought it was a hassle, she was grateful because it allowed her to play with melodies she had stuck in her head.

Today was no different. She had spent an hour alone when Harry walked in on her, seemingly just as lost in his head. He was startled when he looked up and found her sitting in an old hoodie of her first merch ever created.

“Cute,” he comments.

Y/N shrugs, “I know you want one.”

“Desperately.”

She doesn’t know if he’s continuing the bit but decides she will have her mother bring one to her at Wembley for him. It would be her home show, so her mother would be in attendance.

“Anything new?” He gestures to the piano and her open notebook. Y/N hands it to him, allowing him to have a look inside. There are more music notes than there are lyrics. She has the perfect melody, but words seem hard to find right now. “Care to play it for me?”

Y/N loves that he always asks. They both know how private the writing process can be, but with Harry, it’s clear they have built a level of trust. Y/N starts slow on the keys before building up until, by the end reaches the slow start. Harry grins at her, and Y/N can see he likes it. She knows he plays the piano, but she’s never had the chance to watch him play; he’s more reserved compared to her. It’s not something she minds. It just means they both have boundaries they won’t cross and respects that.

“It was beautiful,” he tells her after a few seconds. She thanks him softly, shutting her notebook and knows she has to head out to get ready.

“Y/N, I-I really like having you on tour.”

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s truly an amazing environment to work in. Even if you do need a few more ladies in your crew.”

Harry laughs but agrees. He knows she speaks from experience where most of his technicians are men. Y/N has a more diverse crew. It is an industry that works to break down women. It's nice to see how she always lifts everyone up. He didn’t realize how, over time, his feelings grew for Y/N. He went from seeing her every few days to speaking to her every night before bed. She brings him a comfort he did not know he was missing. Y/N had become the best part of his day, from watching her perform on stage to their nightly talks. He wanted to spend all his free time with her, so he chose to be honest with her about his feelings.

“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” Harry asked softly.

Y/N turned to him, a gentle smile on her face that helped calm his nerves the tiniest bit. He was worried it would not go his way because there were times he gave her a compliment, and she always brushed it away. He always greeted her with a hug, but she always turned it into a one-second side hug. He didn’t know if that was because he made her nervous or she simply didn’t like hugs, although he’d seen her hug her bandmates. Heck, he’s seen them all squished on a couch together.

Harry takes a deep breath; he wants to look away from her, her gaze making him nervous, but the comfort he finds in her gorgeous orbs allows him to push forward. “I-I like you, Y/N.”

Y/N thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She did not expect a confession of this kind from Harry. It leaves her frozen for a second because while Y/N reciprocates those feelings, she’s not at liberty to act on them, not when working on the largest tour of her life. Y/N doesn’t care what people think. It’s a big reason she doesn’t look at tabloids or use her social media accounts, but this–thinking of pursuing a relationship with Harry is not something she can allow herself to give in.

“You’re sweet, Harry. I think you’re great too.”

Harry grimaces because he realizes she doesn’t understand what he is saying. Before he can explain what he means, June, Y/N’s drummer, rushes in, telling her Felix was having an issue and it was bad. Y/N patted his shoulder and excused herself.

Well, it went nothing like he expected. Harry held out for her to say she felt the same, but she clearly didn’t. Harry knows many would tell him to move on, but he knows Y/N is special. While he wouldn’t pursue her, he knew he still wanted her in his life.

As much as Y/N hated to admit it, after Harry’s confession, there has been an awkwardness in their conversations. It’s been too much because they no longer spend time alone. Y/N decided to treat their relationship the same, but when she went to his room that night, she found Mitch with him. Y/N knew that she messed up. She also knew she was being selfish by wanting to keep it all the same when he had put himself out there only for her to brush him off.

A few shows go by, and Y/N feels better because Harry still seeks her out to have lunch together. He invites her to join his workouts, which she regrets because Brad is honestly insane. Brad had promised to make a routine that best fit her needs. Harry did not change much; he kept flirting, offering her compliments and daily hugs. A rush went through her each night, knowing he was watching her.

Tonight was no different. He offered her a short hug, and off she went to play to his fans. Y/N felt off from the moment she got on stage but had no idea why. Quinn stepped close, wanting to know if she was feeling okay, but Y/N couldn’t describe it other than a pit in her stomach. It was as if she sensed something was coming. Y/N promised she was fine and pushed through.

Halfway through the set, Y/N looked over and saw Harry staring at her with a fond smile. Y/N didn’t want to look away but had a show to play. Her feelings were winning, and Y/N knew she wouldn’t care about the aftermath if she decided to date Harry. She wanted to bask in the feeling of liking him and hopefully loving him one day. So, she decided to do something different to let him know she was ready to have that conversation.

“Right, this is a little different tonight. I-I have a friend who loves this song, and we haven’t played it in some time, but I thought they might enjoy it and hopefully you as well. This is ‘Crystal Clear.’”

This song is one she wrote when she was wishing for a happy future with a partner who loves and respects her, showing them that she won’t give in to her fears and wants to be together. It was one of Quinn’s favorites to play, but all collectively agreed it didn’t fit the setlist. Y/N knew she’d get endless questions for adding it so suddenly, but she’d deal with that after speaking with Harry. They played a few more songs, and once she gave her final bow, she hurried off stage. Y/N expected to find Harry waiting for her there but instead ran into Mitch, who looked at her, startled.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N asked impatiently.

“Piano room, but–”

She hurried down the hall, ignoring Mitch, who tried telling her to stop. She didn’t realize he was following her down.

“Y/N don’t–” She walks into the piano room even as Mitch tries to stop her to find Harry hugging a woman. Y/N knew it wasn’t a friend because the grip the woman had on Harry was one of possession. Harry was looking at her, but his face was hard to read. It was as if all the walls she had broken down were now standing higher and stronger. Y/N didn’t move her eyes away from him; her eyes landed on his swollen lips. It’s clear she interrupted a private moment. Y/N grimaces because she knows she would never be able to think about this piano without the tainted memory of Harry wrapped in the arms of another.

“I’m sorry,” she sends them a grim look and walks out, closing the door behind her. She finds Mitch and Sarah staring at her, unsure what to do; they must be aware of the situation between her and Harry.

“Is that his…” She couldn’t even say the word.

Sarah frowned, “she’s uh kind of friend.”

Y/N didn’t need to hear anymore. Sure, Harry said he liked her, but when she didn’t give him the answer he wanted, what did she want him to do, beg and make her open her eyes. No, she needed to figure it out on her own, and now that she did, it was too late.

It’s not like she had a reason to be jealous. She never told Harry she liked him. All she did was pat his shoulder and move on like nothing had ever been said. Y/N bid Mitch and Sarah good luck for the night and walked to her green room. Y/N’s tears began to fall as soon as the door closed behind her. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Nothing was going on between them, yet why did she feel like nothing would be the same anymore. Maybe it was hurting because he had promised to watch her set each night, and she sang a different song tonight because he had said it was his favorite. Y/N knew she wasn’t being fair, sending him mixed signals, but Y/N didn’t deserve to feel this either. It made her feel as if his feelings weren’t even real. She was blinded by her tears to notice June was on the couch, book in hand, but was thankful she was there because she got to break down in the comfort of arms she was familiar with.

Y/N wasn’t okay, but she would be. It was only a crush.

Y/N could not sleep that night. She tossed and turned until she gave up and decided to go to her balcony to watch the sunrise. Time moved slowly, and it allowed her to regroup. By eight o’clock, she was all packed up and waiting in the lobby. Y/N rode to the airport with her friends, where they would all get on separate flights and reunite in May for rehearsals and more love on tour. Y/N was ready to go home and enjoy a home-cooked meal with her mother. She had said goodbye to everyone except for one person. He was quieter today; it allowed him to blend in. Harry had a “Damn” sweater on, the hood up, and a claw clip in the jumper's pocket. Y/N starts walking his way before she can change her mind.

“Harry,” she calls out softly.

He looks up, offering her the tiniest smile. “Y/N.”

“Have a good break.” She offers awkwardly.

He nods. They make no move, and Y/N knows they have no idea where they stand, but Y/N would never start something if Harry had someone else, so she knew she had to come back from the break clear-headed and with these feelings gone and, if not at least tucked away.

Y/N opened her arms and shrugged, telling him it was up to him. Harry didn’t even have to think about it; he wrapped her in a tight hug, breathing her in for one last time.

“Have a safe flight,” he whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

She walks away with a heavy heart and hopes a month and a half is enough to lose these feelings.

While home, Y/N tries to deal with her feelings, and for the most part, it works. Y/N got in the routine of going on morning walks followed by an hour of yoga. She found it helpful in clearing her thoughts and starting her day without a clouded mind. Y/N had not talked to Harry since that morning in the airport; he had sent texts, but they had all gone unread. Her mother tried to convince her to answer him, but she knew it would only hurt more if she found out he was dating that person. The only good thing about this is that Y/N had written five new songs. It seemed heartbreak and love were always a good sign of inspiration. Y/N played her favorite to her mum, and she was told it was okay. Felix told her that the new song was the heart of the new album she was working on. Through the years, she had learned to take what her mother says with a grain of salt.

Her mother was also tired of her moping. Y/N, when on break, would go to her own flat and visit her mother occasionally but so far spent her entire holiday there. Her mother assured Y/N she enjoyed having her home, but it did worry her that she had not left the house. So, as any mother would do, she set Y/N up for a blind date. Y/N said no, time and time again, but Reina promised it would only be coffee. Y/N knew she didn’t have to go, but some of her was tempted because while she knew she had friends to call up, this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Going out and talking with a stranger would be awkward but would be a change in topic.

Y/N was told he’d find her as he received a photo of her. She got there early, deciding to use the time to read a book. Quinn told her “One Last Stop” would change her life and, so far, hadn’t disappointed. Y/N was lost in the story that she jumped up when someone lightly touched her shoulder.

“Shit, sorry,” she looked up, hoping the person hadn’t spilled any coffee, and to her surprise, they were empty-handed. His chocolate eyes were filled with concern, but Y/N brushed it off by offering him a timid smile. “Hi, are you Miles?”

“Yes, and you’re Y/N,” he stated.

“Mhm…it’s nice to meet you.”

Miles nods, “you’re prettier than the picture I was sent.”

Y/N feels her face warm in embarrassment and doesn’t even dare ask to see the photo they showed him. If she knew her mother, it had to be the time she jumped into Glacier Lake and came out looking like a wet dog. Her mother always made sure to keep her humble. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

He gestures for her to sit down and follows after her. She tucks her book back into her bag, ready to give him her full attention. “Do you want something to drink? Heard they have an amazing lavender latte.”

Y/N gestures to her cup before her, “already got something.”

Miles nods, “a pastry, then?”

Now that she would never say no to. “I’ll take a muffin please.”

“You got it.”

Miles walks over to the counter, and while he’s away, she allows herself to look him over. He’s cute, wearing black trousers and a baby blue cardigan. It’s clear he’s comfortable with his style by how he carries himself. Y/N knows if she wasn’t trying to get over her feelings, she would have given him a chance, but with her going back on tour, she isn’t ready for that.

When Miles returns to the table with his drink and two muffins, she asks him about his work and family. She discovers he’s an art curator and is working on his next collection. He shares he has two older siblings and two younger, making him the middle child. His mother tries to make it up by having lunch with him each week, but it’s easy to be overlooked as a middle child. Y/N is intrigued with him and knows Miles would be a good friend; if anything, she thinks Felix would get on with him better than she did.

Y/N realized it was her turn to talk about herself, but she didn’t really like stating her job. Sometimes, people judged her, and she honestly didn’t want things to get worse with Miles, but it seemed Y/N’s luck would not improve because when the door opened, a familiar face walked in. Familiar brown curls sticking out from his trucker hat, Harry’s casual wear had always been comfortable but stylish. He always tended to run cold, so he wore an oversized green coat that reminded her of the time he threw it over her when he saw she fell asleep in his green room after his soundcheck. Y/N looked away before he could see her, but Y/N was right by an open space, easy to view by the counter. Harry could spot anything and everyone, and he was never one to be rude and ignore someone, but she hoped that would change today.

She turned back to her conversation, but in the corner of her eye, she saw someone approaching. Y/N held her breath, hoping he would walk past her, but stopped right in front of her.

“Y/N.” Oh, how she missed hearing her name falling from his lips.

She looks up and finds him staring at her with a timid smile. Y/N gets up and offers him a hug that he quickly accepts. They keep it short, though she feels his hand linger at the small of her back, almost like he didn’t want her to move away, but she wasn’t alone.

“Harry, this is uh…Miles. Miles, this is Harry.”

Harry doesn’t ask anything. He simply tells Miles it’s great to meet him. Miles looks at Y/N in confusion, but she brushes him off. “How’d you meet?” Harry asks, intrigued.

“Our mum’s set us up on a date,” Miles explains for her. “It’s actually our first time meeting.”

Y/N isn’t sure why Miles shared that with Harry, but she can’t blame it. Harry has this trusting aura that makes people want to tell him all their darkest secrets. Y/N would know, seeing as she has shared parts of herself with Harry that no one else has seen, not even her best friends.

Harry nods. She can’t seem to read him at all. His pseudonym name is called, and he uses that as his exit. “Well, it was good to see you.”

“You too, H. I’ll see you soon.”

He nods, giving his goodbye to Miles as well. Y/N watches him until he’s out of the coffee shop and no longer in her view from the mirrors. She finds Miles studying her and knows he might have been able to pick up on the tension between her and Harry.

“Do you want to tell me about that? You don’t have to.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “To start, I kinda have a crush on him, but he’s my boss.”

Miles' eyes widened in shock, “Harry Styles is your boss!” He was not expecting that, but she could tell he was intrigued. His response sends her into a laughing fit, and knows that while she won’t be dating Miles, he will make a good friend.

Y/N felt her break was long and too short at the same time. While she was able to use the time to re-energize, she also wrote a few more songs she wanted to share with her band before booking time for studio sessions. Y/N knew studio time would be hard to find, but she was determined to do it between breaks, even if all she got was two hours.

They had been rehearsing on the stage when she heard a clap from their final song for the set. Y/N turned and spotted the Love Band. She set down her guitar and rushed into Pauli’s arms. They spun her around, laughing as she blubbered on how she missed them. Pauli set her down, giving everyone a chance to say hello. Hanging in the back of the group were Mitch and Harry. Y/N knew she would need to have a conversation with Harry soon, but for now, she would bask in the joy of being back on tour and sharing the stage with him.

“Harry! Mitch!”

Harry looked surprised to see her look happy, calling for him. He sent her a small wave, but Y/N was going in for the hug. He basked in the warmth she had to share with him. Being back in the same space with Y/N was comforting after seeing her out on a date a few weeks ago. It made him feel awful, and he couldn’t help that he made Y/N feel the same with his last fling.

She let go of him, moving on to Mitch. Y/N was chatting away, telling them she had gotten a new guitar and was excited to play it tonight. Soon enough, Mitch and her were lost in their own conversation about lyrics she had written and how she was stuck on finding a melody that would work. Mitch promised to have a look and give her any ideas that would come up.

“You’re still welcome to use the piano, Y/N. I know how much that helped before,” Harry offered.

Y/N fell quiet because while she knew Harry was still there, she didn’t feel overwhelmed because she wasn’t conversing with him, but now all his attention was on her. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” she mumbles, knowing she wouldn’t take him up on it.

Harry nods, and he thinks better of it while he’s about to excuse himself. “Y/N, do you—would it be okay if we talked in private.”

Mitch excuses himself, leaving it all up to Y/N. She has no idea what this conversation will entail but owes it to herself to hear him out. “Lead the way, boss.”

Harry looks pleased and walks off the stage, leading them down some stairs and into the pit, but he doesn’t stop there. He makes her climb a few more stairs, landing them in tonight's lower bowl section of the venue.

Y/N whistles, taking in the view from the distance. “Quite a view. I might have to watch the show from here one night.”

He laughs, “you let me know, and we can make it happen. We’ll make sure you’re not mobbed.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please, your fans wouldn’t be able to recognize me.”

“Beg to differ. There are more signs for you each night.” Y/N waves him off. “They’ve started to make Tik Tok edits about you.” Harry doesn’t share how he knows, but some nights over the break, he spent time watching them. It made him miss her more, seeing her running around the stage like it was hers. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t even know it.

“Please, stop!” Y/N laughs. “My ego can only take so much.”

Y/N had forgotten how easy it was with Harry, but being with him now made her wish things hadn’t changed. She had to go an entire month without hearing from him because her feelings were hurt over something that should not have bothered her.

“Y/N, I am sorry for how we left things in Japan.”

She grimaces, “me too.” Harry quickly disagrees, but Y/N reminds him of all his unanswered texts.

“You’re forgiven,” he tells her.

While Y/N appreciates it, a big topic needs to be addressed.

Harry takes a deep breath before turning his body to look at her. “I know my actions and words might have confused you, but I’m here to be honest. I won’t lie to you, not now, not ever. Do you understand?”

She nods.

“Words Y/N. I need to hear you say it.”

“I understand. You won’t lie to me. I trust you,” Y/N truly believes her words.

He dips his head in acknowledgment. “I like you, and I went on to do something stupid. The girl you saw me with is named Victoria. She–well, to put it lightly, she was a hookup, and she’d join me from time to time. When you saw me that night, she was surprising me because she was going through a breakup and needed comfort, and well–I felt rejected and fell into her. I’m not blaming you–I know I could have said no, but I was too overwhelmed that I preferred to do something to disappoint myself and you. My therapist said if I had talked about it with someone–anyone, this wouldn’t have happened, but I’m not too good with words most times.”

Y/N offers him a smile, “doing pretty good now.”

Harry reaches for her hand, and Y/N lets him take it. She can see he needs the support. “I got a lot to work through, but I’m better and want to be a better partner and person. I want to be someone worthy of you.”

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out. “That's–you’re…that’s not why I didn’t confess my feelings. You’re amazing. I would be so lucky to explore a relationship with you.”

He looks at her, confused, “then what is it?”

“You’re my boss. You can say under technicalities you aren’t, but this is your sold-out world tour. I’m making a name for myself, doing what I love. While being an opening act for you has been a dream come true, being tied to you as your girlfriend will put my name out there, but not how I want. Do you understand?” Y/N hopes she got her point across, never wanting Harry to think he wasn’t enough.

Harry sighs because he knows where she is coming from. He wished he didn’t; he wished he could beg her to say yes to dating him to see where it could lead, but Harry knows how much she loves being on stage, and he would never dare threaten to take that from her or anything that comes with it.

“I understand. I do. I like you, I do. While it sucked seeing you dating someone else, I respect you. I still want to be your friend.” Harry rubs a hand under his scuffed jaw. “I miss talking with you about each show at night.”

Y/N squeezes his hands. “Friends, we’re friends. I hope you’re okay with me being in your life, even as a friend.”

Harry stands up, bringing her with him, and wraps her in a tight hug. He breathes her in. She has a distinct smell of roses and vanilla. It’s perfectly her. He wished he could bottle up the scent and take it with him wherever he went so that it hopefully would make missing her easier.

“I’ll always be your friend,” he assures her.

He can be friends with her. Harry knows it could lead him to heartbreak, but it would be worth it for Y/N.

The next few shows fly by, and Y/N and Harry easily fall into a routine again. Y/N joins Harry for his morning workouts, but Brad made her a workout to suit her likes. While Harry loves intense core workout, Y/N loves to stretch. There are days when all three go off to do a Pilates class. Mainly, Y/N does her yoga in a corner and joins Harry for his core sets.

From there, they’ll do breakfast with their bandmates, sometimes together, and sometimes go their separate ways. They have limited their time together alone because Y/N knows her feelings for Harry are only growing, and Harry wants to respect Y/N and her boundaries. Y/N shared with her bandmates how she felt, and they understood, except Quinn, who told her she should go for it. Everyone looked at Quinn, shocked, but he just shook his head, telling her to really think about this because, from his point of view, Y/N and Harry were perfect for each other. Y/N let Quinn’s words ring through her mind for some time, but Y/N was nervous about taking that next step. She wasn’t sure how it would work. She loves working with Harry, and she knows he’s taking a break after, but what if he doesn’t like that his partner is never home, just like him. Y/N loves being with her family, but she’s never happier than when she is on stage. Y/N can’t seem to take that step just yet.

In Scotland, Y/N finally decided to return to using Harry’s piano. She initially felt strange but realized she had been missing it for some time. Y/N walks in and is happy to find it open. Y/N runs a hand over the smooth wood before taking a seat. She sets down her old journal and opens it up to the last page she wrote.

Y/N lets her hands rest on the keys before going into C major. She repeats it a few times until she feels ready. It was a slow melody that went hand in hand with her lyrics. She began to sing in the room with only the sound of the piano.

Look at me. I feel homesick

Want my dog in the door

And the light in the kitchen

A creek behind her made her jump up suddenly, hands shooting out to grab her notebook to her chest. Harry steps back, hands up in defense. There is an apologetic look on his face.

“I knocked, but don’t think you heard.”

Y/N feels her face heat up and knows she tends to get lost in her music. “Sorry, it was empty when I came in. Did not expect you to come in. I can leave if you are planning to use the space. It is yours, after all.”

Harry brushes her off, walks into the room, and gestures for her to sit back on the bench with him. He scoots in close, wanting no space between them. “What did you play just now? I’ve never heard a tune so mellow yet sad.”

“Think I wrote my album closer,” she confesses.

The joy on Harry’s face is apparent. “Shit, really! That’s wonderful.”

“It’s--gosh, how I explain it. I felt like floating, and this melody really carried me through. You can find an underlying of it through a few of the other songs,” she can’t help but express to him

Harry sits back, impressed, “is the album complete?”

“Think so. I need to go into the studio and finish a few, maybe decide on one or two. Then, all good to go. Think all that’s missing is a name.”

“Y/N’s house,” he jokes.

“Ah, wouldn’t that be nice. I have an idea, but I need to be sure.”

“Will you play it for me?”

Y/N knows what he’s asking, and part of her wants to say no, but no one has heard the song. Not her bandmates, not her co-writers, not her producer, and certainly not her mother. Y/N knows if she shares this with Harry, it will change the entire album for her. When she thinks back on this song, it will now have a whole new meaning.

“It’s six minutes.”

“I have all the time in the world,” he promises her.

While they both know it’s not true, she appreciates the sentiment as they’re both set to perform tonight. Y/N takes a deep breath and, with trembling hands, begins to play her song for him. Y/N drags the intro out for a little longer before letting herself sing these lyrics she’s been carrying around for weeks. Y/N has her eyes closed, swaying as she lets herself tell this story of being exhausted and lonely for being away from everything she loves while feeling at home and her most genuine self. It tells the story of how she can grow even when experiencing so much change while being entirely on her own.

I feel like myself right now.

I feel like myself right now

Mmm.

Y/N opens her eyes, looks at Harry, and finds him crying. She sits up straight, practically pushing herself to sit in his lap as she wipes away his tears. “No, no, what are you doing? Please don’t cry.”

“You made me cry,” he mumbles while Y/N keeps her hands on his cheeks, brushing away his tears with her thumbs. “It was a fucking brilliant song.”

Y/N feels her face warm, “you think so?”

He nods, “think my tears say enough.”

“You could have cried because it was awful.”

Harry bursts out laughing, “absolutely not.”

Y/N wants to lean in and kiss him to thank him for his kind words, but he doesn’t deserve her confusion. “It’s the perfect way to end my album.”

“I agree.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “you haven’t heard the whole thing.”

Harry shrugs, “don’t have to.” The flattery is becoming too much, but she doesn’t want to move away from him. “You’ll remember this moment when you win album of the year next awards season.”

“Shut up, those are stupid.”

“Hey now! I happen to own a few.”

Her hands are still on his face, his tears now dried up, but she doesn’t move away. Y/N is enjoying this too much, and a part of her knows Harry is, too. “I don’t do it for the awards. Music is something I’ve always had, and if I can share it with a few others and they find some type of meaning from it, then it means I’ve done a job well done.”

“Fucking well said, Y/N.”

Y/N giggles, “You can open for me on my tour after I win my Grammy,” she teases.

Harry places a hand over his heart, “it would be my greatest honor.”

“Shut up, you dork.”

Y/N finally lets her hands drop, and Harry takes a second to hide his disappointment.

“Does this mean we can hang out with a buffer now?”

Y/N furrows her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “Sorry?”

Harry pinches her thigh lightly, making her jump closer to him, almost losing her balance. He wraps his hand around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Come on, we’ve been hanging out together, but someone always seems to be with us. If it’s not Brad, it’s Anthony; if it’s not Pauli, it’s Quinn. It’s been never-ending.”

They didn’t mean to do it, but Y/N knows she’s missed their inside jokes and private late-night talks when Harry tells everyone he goes to bed early when, in reality, he’s chatting Y/N’s ear off.

“I guess we can go back to late-night pillow talks.”

“And exploring the city?”

“Course, I missed your Google facts.”

“Heey,” he yells, offended.

“Can’t deny it. I saw you do it many times.”

“Trying to impress you,” he mutters. “Clearly, all I do is fail.”

“Stick to music. You’ll go far in life,” Y/N laughs as he rolls his eyes at her.

“Haha, it means we start right now. Found this old thrift shop nearby.” He pulls her with him as he drags her out, careful to ensure they aren’t caught because if word is out Harry has gone without security, it could be madness.

“We’ve got a show in a few hours.”

“They’ve got beautiful skirts. I called and got pictures sent over.”

Y/N sighs. He knows her too well. “Lead the way, H.”

Harry shoots her a charming smile, and Y/N knows she would have followed him wherever he asked her to without a second thought. She knew she was in safe hands with him.

Harry and Y/N had fun exploring Amsterdam for a few days before heading to Ireland. They had each planned an activity and a place they wanted to eat. Sometimes, they disagreed on food because of Harry’s eating choices, while Y/N would eat anything and everything as long as dessert was always included. Harry thought it was too much, but when he found out how much Y/N enjoyed it, he said yes and ensured she had something sweet, even if he didn’t get anything.

Jeff would tell Harry off for going without security or someone for the team but brushed him off because he didn’t need anyone intruding on his time with Y/N. He loved spending hours with her uninterrupted, touring cities he had never once had the chance to explore. While he enjoyed those days, Harry also loved show days because he got to see Y/N dance around on stage. She went from singing in sweats to her favorite mini skirts for showtime, and when Y/N decided to pair it with a baby tee, Harry had to think of world hunger and puppies to make his hard-on go away. He knows he should look away, but she captivates him every time she’s on stage, dancing and spinning around to sitting on the edge of the stage. Y/N occasionally brought fans on stage, but when that happened, he would be taken further backstage for his safety; he knew those fans were there for her at that time while he was forgotten.

Tonight was a big night. Harry would be playing at Slane Castle. Harry knew it would be special because not everyone is asked to perform here. Harry had spent most of his time today with his crew, psyching Mitch up for his debut performance. Many didn’t know Mitch had created an album and were even more surprised when he was announced as another opener for tonight. Y/N was still at the forefront of his mind, knowing he had to wish her luck for tonight. He’d be deeper in the audience tonight to watch all his friends open this monumental show for him.

Y/N would be a fool to not know what it means to be playing Slane Castle in Ireland today. Y/N’s nerves were insane today. She knew she wasn’t nervous. No, she was anxious. When she was younger, her biggest fear was disappointing her mother. Y/N hated failing others, while her mom did an excellent job of assuring she didn’t have to carry all that pressure on her shoulders. Sometimes, it came back, and she couldn’t shake it.

She had spent thirty minutes on the phone with her mother, and nothing helped. Y/N wasn’t worried about disappointing herself. No, this–tonight was bigger than her. Quinn and Felix could tell something was up, but they couldn’t help, not when June kept taking off a piece of clothing when she saw the time move closer to when they were meant to take the stage.

June was on a clothes removal band and couldn’t go to the restroom alone or even for a snack. It was honestly quite funny. It allowed Y/N to momentarily take her mind off the anxiety lingering in her body. When Y/N saw she had half an hour and her handshake got worse, she felt her throat swell up and excused herself. Y/N had no idea where to go or where to hide. She simply walked and ended up in a secluded corner where she tried to center herself before going on stage.

Harry walks into Y/N’s green room excited to see her, but all he finds are her three bandmates playing cards while June sits in a robe. He doesn’t bother questioning it and instead asks for Y/N.

They all turn to look at each other before Quinn answers. “She left like ten minutes ago. She said she needed a breather.”

That makes sense; he hates that he doesn’t know where exactly she went. Felix pulls her phone out and airdrops a location to Harry. “That’s her exact location. You should have her share her location with you. We can always see where she is.”

Not a bad idea at all. He wouldn’t mind Y/N knowing where he was, especially if seeing where she was on a map could bring him the smallest of comfort. Harry thanks them and walks back out. He walks for around ten minutes until he reaches a secluded corner in the grass. Y/N is sitting on an oversized denim jacket while she stares at her hands.

“Y/N,” he calls out softly to not startle her. She lifts her head and offers him a shaky grin. He can instantly tell something’s wrong. “Hi, love. Been looking for you.”

She shrugs as if to say she’s here. Harry steps closer but is careful not to invade her space. “Came by to wish you luck.”

Harry regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth because Y/N looked away from him, burying her face in her hands. He heard her cries, hurried to sit down, and scooped her in his lap. He rocked her back and forth as he tried to get her to stop. He hated seeing her upset. Y/N was always the epitome of strength, and this had him worried. Y/N expressed that she had a hard time going on stage, but she said it was ages ago.

He whispered sweet nothings, hoping to calm her down, but it wasn’t working. “Please tell me how I can help. Please,” he begged.

“I-I-I don’t w-want to disappoint you,” she cries out. Her tears keep falling, and seeing her like this breaks his heart.

“Hey, hey. I got you.” Harry brings her close, letting her rest her head on his chest. “You’re okay. I got you.”

“It’s a big night for you, and I want to make you proud. I-I can’t disappoint you,” she repeats.

Harry hates that she thinks she can do anything to disappoint him. He pulls her away from his chest because he needs her to understand that she can do no wrong in his eyes. “Love, will you look at me?”

Y/N lifts her head, and her teary eyes meet his warm ones. He hates that she’s doubting herself. “Tonight is the same as any other.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not. No–”

“Shh—yes, it is. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?” She mumbles.

Harry brushes her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Because I’ll still be watching. I will be cheering you on as I do every night. You make every night special, and I know tonight will be no different.”

“You have too much faith in me,” she mutters against his shirt.

“I always will. I’m a big fan of you, Y/N, not only as a person but also as an artist. I’ve seen how hard you work. How you constantly want to improve each song and each set. You want everyone in that audience to have fun even if they aren’t here for you. This is a large crowd, but if you close your eyes, it’s just you and the band. That is what you can control. So, tonight, when you get on stage, whether you sing one song or five or if you mess up a guitar note or you change your setlist. I can promise you I will be proud.”

Y/N sniffles; her tears have dried up. “Harry,” she whines. Y/N can’t find any words and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Harry wraps his arms around her waist and holds her tight. It’s a comfort they have been both seeking all day. Y/N then realized that all the anxiety she faced was because of Harry. She admires and respects him and wouldn’t dare want to mess up his big night.

“Every night is special. Tonight is slightly different only because Mitch is also performing,” Harry teases, hoping to make her laugh, and it works. He feels her laugh move through his chest and settle deep in his heart. “It’s another stop of Love on Tour, and then it’s home shows. Now that should scare you,” he jokes. “My family will be there.”

Y/N knows those words should frighten her, but if anything, it brings her comfort. Harry’s family and hers will meet for the first time, which she had been looking forward to. Honestly, if her mum gives the seal of approval to Harry, it might indeed be over for her. Although that’s something to worry about in a few days, for now, her focus is on putting on a show to remember the thousands of people at Slane Castle.

“Do you want to pick my outfit tonight?” Y/N offers, in exchange for him helping her avoid a panic attack, her hands playing with the ends of his hair.

Harry lights up, “you mean it?”

Y/N laughs, “it’s got to match my ribbons for tonight.”

Harry pouts, “what do you take me for?”

She shrugs.

“I’ll have you know I co-hosted the Met Gala.”

Y/N wags her eyebrows, “fancy.”

“Shoes?”

“Not up for debate.”

Harry waves her off, “good enough for me.”

They walk back together, hand in hand, as Harry goes over possible outfit combinations he has in mind for her. He really wants to see her in leather pants because he knows it will hug her nicely. Her black bows sit nicely in her hair as she does her makeup. June made her do an eye mask for ten minutes to bring down the puffiness in her eyes. It worked, mostly. Y/N did a shimmery eyeshadow and her eyeliner. All that was left was her outfit.

Y/N walked into the bathroom, where Harry told her it was all laid out. She shimmied into her sequined flares and slipped on the simple black baby tee. She ruffled her hair a bit, and overall, Y/N was happy with the look for tonight. She walked out to find everyone waiting for her. She did a spin and got lots of whistles and claps. Y/N told them all to shut up and to get to the stage. She lingered behind with Harry. The look he was giving her was anything but friendly.

“You look beautiful.”

“Might have to hire you as my stylist,” she jokes.

“No, I’d have you wear skirts every night.”

“But not tonight?” Y/N asks confused.

“Wanted something different tonight.”

Y/N doesn’t argue with him. She did give him a full range of her clothes. Y/N hears her name being called and knows she needs to get her mic pack.

“I’ll see you after?” Y/N checks.

“Of course.”

They stand there staring at each other. Y/N, for a moment, thinks Harry will kiss her, and she knows she will let him. Instead, he does something that makes her catch her breath. He steps close and leans down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Good luck, Y/N.”

It’s a simple gesture, but it has her heart racing. “Thank you, H.”

Y/N hurries off after and thanks her engineer for her mic. They hook it to the side of her pants, and Y/N jumps to test its security. So far, so good. Y/N looks behind her one last time and finds Harry giving her a thumbs-up. She could do this. Y/N would go on stage and have fun.

From the moment Y/N got on stage to when she got off, Y/N could not stop smiling. The crowd was incredible, singing her most popular songs back to her. She could not stop thanking them for a fantastic night.

“Before I play you one last song and finally leave this stage, there is one last thank you. To Harry, thank you for asking me to be a part of such a special day. It’s one I will never forget. Thank you for the kindness, but most importantly, thank you for sharing your fans. They have been the best crowds to play to. This one's for you.”

Y/N had never done a dedication before, but it felt right tonight.

In the crowd, Harry was watching Y/N’s set, and while he didn’t need a thank you, it meant a lot coming from Y/N. Harry had no idea Brad was recording him or that he caught Harry blushing as Y/N dedicated the night's final song to him. His friends knew teasing was always okay with Harry, but he looked transfixed, staring at Y/N serenading the crowd they knew could wait until later.

Y/N had the time of her life dancing with Felix, Quinn, and June to Harry’s set. She laughed loudly when he got called a slag, cheered when he thanked his band, tried to hide when he thanked her and the other openers and cried as he played “Fine Line.” It was a perfect show, everything Harry deserved.

While it was late, Y/N and Harry still hung out, talking about their favorite bits when they reached their hotel rooms. Y/N loved it when a fan shouted they loved her during a song transition. Harry thought “Kiwi” went insane tonight. Y/N recounted the slag story, and Harry let her laugh it up. He teased her, saying he noticed when she tripped over her words when introducing her band. It was every moment that made the night special. While they had a few days off before Wembley, Y/N knew it was time to head for bed as it would be a travel day. Y/N couldn’t wait to hug her mum and knew Harry felt the same.

Harry lingered outside her door as if he didn’t want to leave. Y/N wanted him to stay, but it would be crossing the boundaries they set for each other. Y/N knew she had a lot to figure out, but day by day, everything became more apparent.

“Good night, Y/N love.”

Y/N steps on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, H.” Harry walked away from her with a cheesy grin on her face. As Y/N closed the door, she knew one thing: that she liked Harry.

She is head over heels for him. Y/N knew the ball was in her court. She had to make a move if she wanted anything to happen. It seemed the hometown shows were about to get interesting.

Y/N had dreamed about playing at Wembley Stadium. While it technically wasn’t for her, she would play in a sold-out stadium. Y/N would open the show for four nights. She’d get to play here and dream of a future where she sold out her favorite stadium in her hometown.

She was in the middle of the walkway, where Harry sings “Matilda” each night. Y/N doesn’t hear the camera shutter or the footsteps approaching her. Y/N is simply taking it all in, wanting to remember the stadium empty before she sees it filled up.

“Do you still dream about nights like tonight?” Y/N turns her head when she hears her mother’s gentle voice.

“Mum!” Y/N shoots up from where she’s sitting and runs into her open arms. Y/N stands taller than her mother but never feels smaller than being wrapped tightly in her familiar embrace. “Thought you were coming until later.”

Reina laughed, “Wanted to spend the day with you, oh, and Quinn promised we’d catch up on gossip.”

Y/N shook her head, “did he bring you out here?”

“Sure did. I needed to say hi to my girl before gossiping my life away.”

“Is it book club?”

Reina sighs dramatically, “it always is.”

Y/N and her mum chatter as they make their way backstage. She’s got family members and friends coming over the four days, but her mum promised to be at all four. Her childhood best friends, Tiffany and Elena. Her cousins and nephews were coming, even her Aunt and Uncles. Y/N reminded everyone she was simply the opening act, but no one cared; they were all proud of her.

She had introduced her mother to nearly everyone except her favorite person. Y/N found Harry with his headphones in but took them off when he noticed her.

“Y/N,” he greets with a cheerful smile. He quickly notices the woman beside her and introduces himself as Harry, a friend of Y/N’s.

“My mum, Reina,” Y/N tells him.

Harry grins, “I see the resemblance. We know Y/N will look just as amazing as you in the future.”

Reina can’t stop smiling, “dear, you didn’t tell me how cheeky this one is.”

“He’s a flirt, Mumma. Nothing is stopping him.”

“Oi, you see what I have to deal with,” Harry teases. “I only flirt with pretty girls named Y/N.”

“And who’s from London,” her mum adds.

Harry points a finger at Reina before turning to look at Y/N, “I like her. I really do.”

“Keep her,” Y/N tells him. “I can only take so much teasing.”

“Oh, darling. You can never get rid of me.”

Harry throws a hand over her shoulder, bringing her close to his side. “Like you too much to go through life without you.” Y/N rolls her eyes, but her Mumma can see how flustered she has become. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet my Mum and sister. They were set to arrive any minute now.”

It’s Y/N's turn to perk up, “your Mum’s here.”

Harry feels his heart swell at her excitement to meet his mother. He has no idea what he and Y/N are, but they’re certainly more than friends.

Y/N spent the entire afternoon chatting with Anne and Gemma. She didn’t mean to monopolize her time, but Anne would keep the conversation going, and Y/N was enjoying it too much to remember she had a different job to do.

“Y/N, babe, we’ve got sound check,” Felix interrupted, apologizing to Anne.

Harry slipped into the spot next to Anne, “yeah, Y/N, leave my mum alone and go work.”

Before Y/N could rebuttal, Anne slapped his knee lightly, chastising him to be polite. Harry winked in Y/N’s direction. She excused herself and promised Anne she’d see her around for the next few days. Y/N walked out to find the band waiting for her. Y/N looked back one last time to check in on her mother and was happy to see her wrapped up in a conversation with Pauli and Mitch.

Quinn smirked when she made her way towards them. “Take it your mother-in-law likes you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She slapped his shoulder, telling him to shut up.

“Wembley, Wembley, I don’t know if you know this, but London is where I grew up. So, boss man, these are all my hometown shows, too.” Y/N laughed when the crowd cheered. “My mom took me to concerts with her because she preferred to take me with her to create these beautiful memories together instead of me staying home with a relative. So, if you enjoy my music and are happy I pursued this dream, you can thank Reina. Mum, you’re my best friend and my number one supporter. Thank you for everything. I love you.”

Y/N turned to see the screens where her mother was shown wiping her tears and blowing kisses to the screen. Y/N saw Tiffany reach over and give her a cuddle and knew she’d be in trouble for making her cry, but it was worth it.

“My name is Y/N, and it’s been a pleasure playing for you. Here’s one last song. Good night, Wembley. You’re in for a hell of a show with Harry Styles, I promise.”

Y/N ran off stage and straight into the arms of the first person she saw, which happened to be Harry. While she didn’t see him before going on stage because he had been out cheering on Madi, he was now looking at her proudly. Harry spun her around, and all Y/N wanted to do was reach down and give him a kiss. It took everything in her not to do it, especially when surrounded by hundreds of people.

“You were amazing,” he breathed as he set her down.

“They’re fucking amazing,” Y/N told him, pointing out to the crowd. Y/N rambled on about how the crowd was like no other, that the energy they brought was nothing she had ever felt. “I didn’t want to leave the stage.”

Harry laughs loudly, “should have stayed there think I could have watched you all night.”

“Awe, afraid you can’t surpass my amazingness,” she playfully mocks, knowing very well he’d knock this out of the park. Harry made a sold-out stadium feel like the most intimate show each night.

Harry can’t stop looking away from her beaming face. It brings him so much joy to see her like this each night. All he wants to do is celebrate with her, showering her with kisses and telling her how proud he is of her. Instead, he lets her go and tells her he'll see her at the end of the night. There would be no late-night talks tonight as they’d be going to their respective home. “Best of luck, H.”

He watches her walk away and mentally prepares for his first night of four in Wembley.

Wembley had been perfect each night. His family and Y/N are getting on swimmingly. He hoped for it, but seeing it in person gave him hope that he and Y/N could pursue something. With a day off in between, he was back. He knew the end of the tour was nearing, and his time with Y/N was limited, but watching her on stage each night stopped him from doing anything because he preferred to have her as a friend rather than nothing at all.

Y/N was in a red skirt tonight with a white top with embezzled cherries scattered around. He remembered her mentioning it was his saddest song. It’s not one he would sing again, but he wondered if she was ever in his show's audience to hear it live. The ribbons were cherry red and long. Slowly, as she danced around, they were coming undone. One moment, she was in front of the stage, and the next, she was dancing her way down his long catwalk. She usually kept to the stage but used more and more over time. Tonight, she sang an entire song to his fans, who sang her songs right back to her. Harry knew having Y/N as an opener would be nice, but it’s nothing he ever imagined.

“Wembley, I know you didn’t come here to see me, but thank you to those who sang along. I have one last song, and soon enough, the man of the hour will grace you with his presence. A thank you to my wonderful band. They truly are my best friends. Give it up for Quinny Quinn Quinn on bass. He truly loves all the edits you’ve tagged him in. There is Felix on guitar and the occasional tambourine. Felix always has a new hair color and keeps us whole. Lastly, this band’s hero is Junie. Junie loves the drums and loves me the most,” Y/N teases as Quinn rolls his eyes at her. “Alright, this is–for me?” Y/N asks confused. She bends down, and the security hands her the bouquet of flowers. It’s a mix of pinks and yellows. It makes her tear up. “You sure?” The fan nods, telling her she brought them specially for her. Y/N holds them close to her chest. “I love you. This has made my entire night.” Y/N shows them off to her bandmates, who are all awed by the kind gesture. She places them by her water so she doesn’t forget them. “Alright, one last thank you to you all. This is the Band and I. Good night, Wembley. I love you!”

She hurries off stage with her bouquet in hand. June commented it was a kind gesture. It reminded Y/N how fans travel to see their artist live in concert. Y/N knows she had a sold-out tour when she finished Love on tour, and while it won’t start for a few months, this time is something she won’t ever forget. She’s grateful for the experience, grateful she gets to observe how the crew is treated, and how much comradery there is on this tour. She’s heard the stories of friendship blossoming. It’s beautiful, and now that she’s gotten a glimpse, she’s happy to be a part of but something she wants to take forward with her.

Y/N drops off her flowers and goes in search of Harry.

Y/N likes Harry.

She likes spending time with him and likes to sit in silence with him, but mostly, she likes hearing him talk and tell stories. Y/N has never felt at peace with a partner or felt the infamous belly full of butterflies, but she feels them both with Harry. She doesn’t even know when she began falling. All she knows is that she’s ready to tell Harry.

While she wants to share how she feels, she’s mostly dying to kiss him. Their tension is thick, and Y/N is ready to cut through it. She did not think Love on Tour would bring her love, but after hearing Mitch and Sarah’s story, she knows anything is possible and that Harry loves playing matchmaker. He’s a big romantic, which is something everyone has told her.

She finds him in the piano room, playing an all too familiar melody. “You know, some would call that plagiarism.”

Harry’s hands fall away from the keys, but he doesn’t turn to look at her. “It’s my favorite song.”

“Not even released. I barely named it,” she tells him truthfully.

He shrugs, “special enough to me.”

“Should have named it Harry’s song instead.”

That gets him a look; his cheeks are red from her comment, and it settles Y/N’s nerves. Harry stands up, and she knows he wants to hug her. While she usually is eager to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she didn’t change coming off stage today and fears she might smell. “Think I might stink.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “stop it and get in here.”

It is no use fighting it when she only wants to be in his arms. Y/N let herself melt against him, her hands resting around his waist.

“Quite incredible out there. Almost got jealous when you got handed those flowers.”

Y/N smirks and pulls back the tiniest bit to see the pout on his lips. “Almost?”

Harry huffs out a sigh. “Fine, I did.”

She grins, “There’s no need to.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re the only person who’s got my eye,” she tells him honestly.

Harry’s face turns red, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he pulls her in closer, resting his chin on her head. Y/N struggles to work up the courage to say those three words. She didn’t realize that the fear of rejection could win out when she really liked someone.

She decides to go for it.

“Harry, will you do something for me if I ask?”

“Only if you ask nicely,” he rebuttals.

Y/N pulls away from him, and he lets her. Her hands stay rooted on his waist, letting him know she doesn’t want him to go far.

“Kiss me, please,” Y/N whispers out into the room. Harry was shocked at her request. He stayed staring at her, unsure if he had misheard, but Y/N repeated herself one more time. “Will you please kiss me?”

He had been waiting for this moment when everything would shift for them, and now that it was here, he was overwhelmed. Harry wanted to kiss her but didn’t know what it would mean for her because he knew what it meant to him. There was a part of him that knew how she felt, but he was dying to hear it.

Instead of questioning it, Harry decides to lean in Y/N, lifting her head to allow their lips to touch, but Harry keeps just enough distance between them to see if she really wants this. Harry lets their lips brush, leaving the ball in her court. He was tempted to go all in but needed to know she wanted him. Y/N was in a daze; she had never felt like she could pass out from a simple touch, but with Harry, it had been like that from the start, from small touches to holding hands. Y/N knew precisely what he was doing and knew exactly what she wanted.

Y/N connected their lips, and she felt fireworks go off. She doesn’t know why she stayed away for so long. Now, she never wants to go without him. Harry raises his hands to cup her face, taking control of the kiss. It is gentle and full of care. She never wanted it to end, and it seemed neither did Harry. Harry was getting lost in the taste of Y/N. He knew he didn’t care what happened as long as he got to keep her in the end.

He pulled away breathless, but Y/N pulled him back in for another kiss before he could say anything. It went on for what felt like hours but could have only been a few minutes. There was a loud pounding on the door that made the spring apart. Y/N gazed at his swollen lips and knew she must look the same, if not worse.

“Y/N–” He shakes his head, not able to wrap everything around his head

“Shh…” Y/N doesn’t want this moment to end, although she knows it must. “We’ll talk later, I promise.”

Harry frowns. He doesn’t want to give her the chance to change her mind and reject him. He wants her, simple as that. “But–”

“I promise I won’t change my mind. I’d tell you right now, but I wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night if I did.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he confesses.

Y/N chuckles and presses a final kiss to his lips. “I’ll be cheering you on, popstar.”

Harry smirks, “dedicating tonight to you.”

“Menace.”

The show is a beautiful success. Harry spots Y/N in the crowd tonight and spends too much time singing to her. Not that many fans pick up on it. He wouldn’t mind anyone finding out, but she’s all his right now. He runs off stage and straight into his dressing room. He’s got a car waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Y/N. His mom trails in, followed by Jeff and a few others. Harry keeps his door open to keep an eye on her. Harry packs up a few of his belongings, knowing he’ll return tomorrow for a final night. Harry is listening to Jeff drone on about tomorrow and the surprises he has planned when he catches sight of Y/N’s purple bow breezing by. He doesn’t even apologize to Jeff; he runs out after her.

“Y/N!” He calls out.

Y/N stops and smiles. “Hi you! Nice job out there.”

Harry blushes because, as confident as he was on stage dancing for her, there’s a difference between being dressed down and having his crush tell him he did amazing on stage. It means everything knowing she enjoys the shows each night. Harry loves seeing her sing on stage each night and is thankful he gets to enjoy it for a few more weeks.

“I–I’ve got to get going but wanted to see you.”

Y/N reaches up and cups his cheek. Harry leans into her touch, neither caring if someone spots them nor knowing they are in safe hands with the crew around them. “I hope you have a good night. I’ll see you here tomorrow, ready for one final show. I hear it’s going to be the best one yet.”

“Is there something you want to see me play?”

Y/N offers him a soft smile, shaking her head. “All I want is to see you happy on stage.”

While the sentiment is appreciated, Harry knows her words will be on repeat as he falls asleep tonight. He wants to give her something special tomorrow. “I’ll find out your favorite song,” he promises.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “H, I mean it. You being happy on stage is all I could ask for.”

Harry turns his head and kisses the palm of her hand. “I’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

She stares at him lovingly, knowing they both have to go and get a good night's rest. They’ll be apart for a few hours, and tomorrow, be back together to share a few more kisses.

“Good night, you.”

Harry leans in and kisses her cheek. “Night, sweetheart.”

The final night at Wembley had arrived, and she was ready. Y/N knew Harry had most of his family and friends here, which made her slightly nervous because she knew he would want her to meet them but also knew most of them wouldn’t show up for lil ol’ her as an opener. Y/N, when she arrived at the arena, was separated from her band and found at Harry’s side. Harry selfishly wanted her to stay with him; he even sneaked them off to a hidden corner of the stadium, where he kissed her breathless. He promised only a few minutes, which turned out to be thirty. Y/N showed up to her soundcheck with bruised lips and a wide smile. The band decided to tease her later when Harry wasn’t around, seeing they also had lots of questions.

“Yo–you look gorgeous,” Harry expressed as he walked into her dressing room and saw her dressed in a black maxi dress with embroidered flowers instead of her signature mini skirt.

Y/N did a twirl for him, “you like? My mum found it at this shop we love to visit together. Altered it to perfection. The extra fabric she used for my bows,” Y/N points out. Harry admires her loose curls, a massive bow holding half up in a messy updo. She looked effortlessly beautiful.

“It’s wonderful.”

“I got a wardrobe upgrade for the next few weeks. Leaving a lot at home and packing a ton of new outfits. Think it’s time to play dress up,” Y/N laughs, knowing she will have a fun time and lots of new looks to explore.

“Can you dance in it?”

Y/N smirks, “don’t worry, Felix made me practice shaking my ass already.”

“Oh darn,” he jokes. “Have a lovely show.”

Harry brings her in for a hug, and Y/N sags against him, loving the comfort he brings her. As she goes to pull away, Harry leans in for a kiss but waits for her permission; with a simple nod, he connects their lips and captures her heart. The kiss is perfect. It’s slow and gentle but filled with passion and yearning. Yearning for more time together, longing for all they have yet to explore. Harry backs away, his lips shining from her strawberry lip gloss.

With a final wave, he’s gone, and Y/N takes the stage.

“Welcome to the final night of Wembley! Promise you’re in for a hell of a show. I-I’ve never been happier.” Y/N thinks back to minutes before she walked on stage and knows her words have never been more accurate. “Let’s dance!”

The show passes in a breeze, and before she knows it, she’s reached the end of her set, having one final song left to perform. She never seems to feel time passing when she’s on stage. While Y/N loves playing for Harry’s fans, she’s excited to get back on the road for herself soon enough.

“Wembley, Wembley. You are a beautiful crowd. I’ve got one last song for you.” The crowd cheers. “Ouch,” she feigns hurt, placing a hand over her heart. “I won’t take offense only because I’m also excited for Harry.” Y/N steps towards the stage with her microphone. “Thank you for receiving me with open arms, Wembley. I love performing and singing all my songs for you. I hope you come out to a show of mine in the future. It would be lovely to see familiar faces in the crowd. Before I continue, there are some people I need to thank. My mum Reina is in the crowd.” Y/N cheers when the crowd screams and chants for her mother. “She’s going to love that. There is someone special who is not here but has a special place in my heart and made me fall in love with singing: my Dad. While it feels like it has always been my mum and I, he’s never forgotten. My mom gave me all his records and always played music he loved. It led me to finding my dream and making it come true. Mumma, thank you for everything. I love you. Lastly, Harry Styles, it has been my greatest honor to join you on tour, but tonight, I feel extra thankful to be here with you. You’ve become a great inspiration throughout this tour, and I’m grateful for you.”

Y/N wipes her tears, laughing to herself for getting emotional. One last song to sing. She looks at the sky and whispers, “this is for you, Pops.” When she finishes, Y/N blows kisses to the crowd and rushes off stage and straight into her mother’s waiting arms.

“He would be so proud,” Reina whispers, making Y/N shed a few more tears. “I’m proud of you, my angel.”

Y/N squeezes her mother tighter. “Thanks, Mumma.” After her mother finishes showering her in kisses, Y/N heads to her dressing room, wanting to change and shower, except when she walks in, she finds Harry reading her lyric journal.

“Harry?” She looks at him, confused.

He stands up quickly, setting the book down on the couch. “I-I didn’t mean to. But it was flipped open to

‘Right Now’ it’s the song you played me on the piano. I still shouldn’t have done it, but I was curious. I–I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Y/N wishes he wasn’t so panicked. “It’s okay. I think you’ve heard all about these songs. Very comfortable with you reading it. Only June gets a kick at reading the notebook. Think she left it out.”

Harry sighs. She opens her arms for him, and he falls right in. “You were wonderful! Love seeing you so happy,” he mutters.

“Special crowd. Don’t know if it’s possible, but it feels like there's more people than the other nights,” she confesses. She wouldn't be surprised if that was the truth; fans sneaking into the pit are much more common when workers are distracted, even if they try their best.

He laughs, “guess we’ll see, all I know is tonight will be special.”

Y/N enjoyed this downtime with Harry. While they knew a conversation was waiting to happen, they simply chose to enjoy this final night in London before continuing on the road for the next few weeks. Y/N knew how she felt, but this was not the time or place to have this discussion. It’s one she would be waiting for in the days to come.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Got a surprise for tonight.” Harry stole a kiss and backed away from her. Y/N could see a twinkle in his eye and knew he had found her favorite song. Y/N knows he went to her Mum. She was the only one who knew. While ‘Fine Line’ was special and he played it every night, she wondered if he would play it for her.

Y/N doesn’t always watch the show in the audience; sometimes, she is side-stage dancing with Felix and playing air guitar. Then there are times they’re in the green room eating while watching Harry play through the TV in their room, but tonight, Y/N joins his family and watches from the right side of the stage. Anne said they’re close enough that he can spot them but not enough to distract him. For the last week here, Y/N had met most of his friends and family; there would even be a celebration at the end of the night where more people would attend. Y/N knew Harry would be the man of the hour and had decided she’d hang for an hour before heading home. While she selfishly wanted to monopolize all his time, Y/N knew she couldn’t. She’d see him on their flight to Wales in a few days.

“He’s got quite a big crush on you,” Gemma nudges her shoulder. “I would know I’m his older sister.”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Then I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“My brother’s a shy guy. When he’s onstage, he shines so bright, but when he walks off, he’s back to being my shy brother who, for the life of me, is awful at starting conversations. He cares so much for everyone in his life. Once you’re in, you have a friend with him for life.” Gemma tells Y/N, and she knows it’s as much a welcoming as it is a warning.

“I-I think he’s amazing. Fuck, I’ve kept a distance for a while only because I wasn’t certain if he was genuine. But repeatedly, he proves to go above and beyond for anyone. Being home puts many things in perspective for me,” Y/N sighs and offers Gemma a timid smile. “I’d be lucky to be given any relationship with Harry.”

Gemma’s laugh rings loud, causing their mums to look over at them, but Gemma waves them off. Gemma links her arm with Y/N and declares them dance partners for the night. “You’re a good person, I can tell. And even if I couldn't, my mum could, she adores you already. Think she plays your music more than Harry.”

Y/N gasps in surprise, “please tell me Harry knows!” Gemma shakes her head. “Oh my gosh, he said I write sad music.”

“Well, he writes horny pop songs,” Gemma chips in.

Y/N falls into a fit of giggles, “he does!”

“You write rock mixed with sadness and a few pop influences.”

Y/N feels her face heat up, knowing Gemma is clearly a fan of her music. It always overwhelms her, but knowing that Gemma, Harry’s sister, enjoys her music is a big win for her. It brings her a lot of joy. Y/N always had an easy time conversing with people, but she feared making relationships and connections. It’s a reason her circle is tight-knit, but chatting with Gemma makes her hope that a new friendship could start here.

The night is spent dancing and singing at the top of their lungs or as loud as Y/N knows she’s allowed without messing up her voice. After Mitch’s incredible solo for ‘She,’ Harry walked to the middle of the catwalk with the ladies of his band. It seemed as if every fan knew what song was coming as Y/N saw friends embrace each other. Y/N walked over to her mother, knowing her Mumma related a little too closely to the song. However, the familiar notes to ‘Matilda didn’t start; instead, it was a soft guitar intro. Reina pulled Y/N tight into her arms. This was the surprise Harry had mentioned.

Harry finds his mum and sister hugging as he sings, but he keeps searching until his eyes land on Y/N, who is being embraced by her mother as she sings along to every word of “Sweet Creature” while Harry has no idea what this song means to her, she knows what it means to him and his sister. There are many ways to interpret his songs, and he’s glad Y/N connected with this one. He’s happy he could give Y/N and her mother this moment for it to become theirs.

It’s hard keeping his emotions under control for the entire show, but he does his best. He remembers to thank his family and promises Wembley he’ll see them soon. When Harry runs off the stage that night, he knows he left his heart out there for every single person. It’s something he knows he is going to get back with a lot more love-filled into it.

There is a celebration that Jeff hosted for everyone wanting a perfect end to four sold-out nights in the city that changed his life and has now become his home. Harry sees his crew mingling. He sees Y/N’s band mixing with his band. It’s nice to see how connected everyone has become over the last few months. The person he is searching for is talking to Glenne. He sees them laughing, and as he makes his way over to them, he is intercepted by Ben, a long-time friend. Harry bounces around the room, converses with everyone, and occasionally drinks with them. Harry had managed to keep an eye on Y/N all night until he was saying goodbye to someone, and when he turned back, he could no longer spot Y/N. Harry knows he’ll see her soon and has her number to call her, but he really wanted to hear her thoughts about tonight’s show.

Harry pulls out his phone to call her when he finds a text from her.

Y/N

Thank you for the surprise. Tonight truly was magical.

Did you enjoy the rain? Think the heavens opened up from how emotional you made everyone. I’ll see you soon. Give me a call tomorrow. xx

He pockets his phone with a smile and knows what he has with Y/N is good, and he’ll do everything in his power to make her happy for a long time.

In Wales, Y/N and Harry did not go a moment apart as if they had become each other’s shadows. Where one went, the other followed. No one questioned it because it was bound for something to happen, but what happened? No one knew. Y/N and Harry shared kisses behind closed doors, and it was theirs. It was the time to brush everything away and simply be together.

Belgium came much too soon, and there is something Harry has been meaning to ask. He’s lying on Y/N’s hotel bed, knowing they have a few days before their show, and Harry’s dying to take Y/N out on a date.

“Sweetheart,” Harry calls out for her.

“In a minute.”

She walks out of the bathroom a minute later, her skincare finished for the night. They had arrived a few hours ago, and Harry quickly approached her.

“Beautiful.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t stop her face from heating up at the compliment. “Sweet talker.”

“Only yours,” Harry sing-songs.

She lies down with him. “Any big plans in Belgium, H?”

“A sold-out show,” he teases.

“Well, obviously.” She plays with a loose thread on her shirt. “Meant sightseeing.”

Harry shrugs and scoots closer, reaching down to take her hand in his. “Not really sure. Thought sleeping would be a good start.”

“Don’t be silly. You and Brad love an early morning workout.”

Harry reaches out and pokes her nose, making her scrunch her face in surprise. “No need to be jealous. Early days with Brad mean free days with you, sweets.”

He had a point. Y/N deflates because while Belgium is famously known for its waffles, she doesn’t want to explore alone. She also knows it is harder for Harry to simply be out. “It’s simply we have time to explore cities I’ve never visited before, and while I selfishly want to ask you to roam the city with me, I know it’s not possible.”

“Hey,” he speaks softly. Her hand stays cradled to his chest, all his attention Y/N. His eyes say everything he hasn’t voiced yet. “We can walk around any city aimlessly. You don’t have to worry about anything else.”

“Harry,” she breathes out. “You–”

“Why can’t I? Simply because others will look or because I’m this big name. Don’t I deserve the same respect as others to simply be.”

“You do. Of course, you do.”

“Then, don’t worry about anything else. I promise I will be there if you ask me to be somewhere or want to go to a chocolate-making class.” Harry’s words fill her with hope. Hope that whatever this is will turn into something more, something special.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I-I don’t want to go to a chocolate class.”

Harry falls into a fit of giggles, leaning in close to press kisses to her cheeks, not caring that she tries to push him away because he knows she likes it, knows she craves his touch as much as he does hers. “Would you go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Y/N freezes, not having expected him to ask her. She always kept it at the back of her mind, but now he’s here asking for more. “A date?” She repeats. “With me?”

Harry’s laugh rings loud, “you’re kind of who I’m asking.”

She wants to blurt out yes, it’s on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it back. Instead, he thinks about it for a second, wanting to make Harry sweat for a second. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow? I can plan a whole day out for us.”

Y/N breaks out a huge smile; dates usually last an hour or two, but she has Harry wanting to spend the entire day with her. She knows this is unconventional and that they have already spent so much time together that it will now only be outside the four walls of a hotel room.

“Tomorrow is perfect,” she agrees.

Harry bids her goodnight and promises to be here at eight with a coffee for her to start the day.

True to his word, the following morning, Harry is there with two cups of coffee and a paper bag. The smell of fresh bread reaches her, and Y/N knows this is a fantastic start. Harry leads them out of the hotel room and onto the street, promising walking would be better.

Making it to their first destination, it’s a Botanical Garden, and Y/N practically shines with happiness. From the moment they walk in, they are met with blooming plants. They find out it’s pretty empty, not many people picking a garden for their first visit of the day. Y/N roams around, with Harry trailing close behind. She doesn’t realize Harry is taking photos of her every few minutes. Harry wanted to capture the entire day, and seeing her beauty through his eyes was something to behold.

“H, come on!” Y/N turns to him with a stretched-out hand, and he’d be a fool not to take it. They spend a few hours roaming around, stopping to take pictures and sitting on benches as they take in all the beauty, never letting go of each other’s hands.

Y/N knew it was always easy with Harry, but she let every touch linger a bit longer in this new context of being on a date. Harry told her it was time for the next destination, and while she didn’t know what it was, she knew the day would only get better.

“Did you know fries are actually Belgian and not French?” Harry tells Y/N as they share a small plate outside a shop.

Y/N chews a fry, tilting her head, thinking his words over. “Weird to call them French.”

It turns out Harry had no real plan for them besides the gardens, but was too worried to tell Y/N. She laughed and promised him she didn’t mind. Spending time with him was more than enough. Aimlessly walking is her favorite pastime when she’s in a new city, but doing it here with Harry, she knows it will never be the same again.

They walked in and out of shops for the next few hours, laughing at shared stories and buying knickknacks for family members. Harry dragged Y/N into a chocolate shop, where the worker was kind enough to offer them samples. After buying too much, Y/N promised to share it with the crew. It was too good for them not to share.

After some time, Harry pulled Y/N to sit on a bench with him. It gave them a beautiful view of the sun that was beginning to set. They sat in silence for a while, comfortable enough to enjoy each other’s company without saying anything.

“Did you know I once wrote a song about Rapunzel?”

“The princess?” Harry asks.

“Mhm…I loved the film, and I thought Rapunzel had lost so much time being trapped that, being free, she didn’t know where to start. It was not my best.”

Harry nudges her shoulder, “doubt that.”

She shrugs, “who knows, maybe it was amazing, but I’ll never know, never thought to record it.”

“What made you want to pursue music?” Harry asks. He has her hand in his lap, twisting the ring she wears on her pinky finger with her father’s initials.

Her father comes to mind, “I was really young when we lost my dad. He loved music; he was the type to love it all, from Metal to pop to Spanish. He worked as a producer exclusively in London and with close artists, he had never wanted anything to take him from home. He loved my mum too much to ever want to part with her for long. My dad always had music playing. My mum said it was the first thing I reacted to when she was pregnant with me. By the time I was born, music lulled me to sleep and was the first thing I heard when I woke up. By the time we lost him, my Mumma played his records to keep his memory alive. She only bought new ones on his birthday and anniversary. I didn’t realize until I was much older that it also connected them.” Y/N pauses to send Harry a smile, and he answers by squeezing her hand. “My mum knew I had a good pair of lungs during my theater days and pushed me to pursue more if I wanted. I taught myself guitar and took piano lessons because I wanted to improve. It wasn’t always easy, but I loved learning, so it only motivated me. I wanted to share music because I wanted to connect with others and proudly say I’m doing that.” Y/N feels overwhelmed but is happy she shared this with Harry. She can’t remember the last time she was this honest with anyone.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Harry kisses her cheek. “I-I love seeing you on stage. You radiate this energy that—” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but it makes you want to be part of it. I think you’re one of the most amazing songwriters we have in our generation.”

“Harry,” she shakes her head to get him to stop, but it urges him on.

“I mean it. You’re incredible, and I’ll forever scream it from the rooftops if you want me to.”

Y/N feels her face flush and turns to pull Harry in for a hug. She breathes him in for a long moment, “I–thank you.”

After the sunset, they walk back to their hotel. They linger outside Y/N’s door, not ready to say goodbye even after a long day together.

“We–”

“I–”

“You first,” they reply in unison.

Harry gestures for her to go first.

“I was going to say if you want, we can freshen up and have dinner in my room, maybe watch a movie,” she asks nervously.

He nods eagerly, “yes, please.”

“Good, good. Say an hour?”

“Perfect.”

Harry lets her open her hotel room, but before she can wave goodbye, he pushes her against the entrance and leans in to kiss her. Y/N sighs against his lips. She has wanted to do all this all day. His hands hold her waist firmly while Y/N fists his shirt to keep him close.

Y/N pulls back to catch her breath, “been wanting to do that all day.”

Harry smirks, “well, here’s another one.”

His lips are soft, but the kiss is fast and needy. There has been a build-up to this moment all day. Y/N lets him guide her as he explores her mouth. She moans as he nips her bottom lip. Y/N pulls him closer, needing to feel him against her. She’s so lost in the kiss she jumps back in surprise when the door slams shut. Harry rests his forehead against hers, his breath heavy. “Maybe not the smartest thing we’ve done.”

Y/N bites her lip, “probably not.”

Harry thumbs at her bottom lip, and she releases it. “Please stop, or I’m going to kiss you again.”

“I don’t mind,” she confesses.

“Y/N,” Harry groans. “I’m going to go.”

“But you’ll be back?” She asks softly.

“In an hour,” he assures her. “Pick a movie for us.”

“Bye Harry.”

Harry kisses her cheek, knowing that if he gets another taste of her, it will lead to more kissing, which they clearly do not want to rush. “Bye, sweetheart.”

Y/N shuts the door behind him, a large grin on her face. She’s falling hard, and she’s falling fast.

“Vienna is probably one of the most beautiful songs ever created,” June tells Y/N, who’s lying on the floor of Harry’s stage. “The beauty of getting older.”

“June, you hated that song when you were younger,” Quinn chimes in.

“Am I not allowed to change my opinion?” She yells. Quinn simply puts his hands up, deciding it is not worth defending.

“City of Music is nothing I thought it would be,” Felix shares.

“What were you expecting?” Y/N asks curiously.

Felix laughs, “definitely fewer parks.”

“Oi, is this what we pay you to do?” Harry shouts as he walks over to them dressed in blue jeans and a “Pleasing” sweater.

“Y/N, save us, please!” They all collectively yell.

Harry snickers at her, knowing they might not have told anyone about the dates they’ve been having in every city that usually end in one of them staying the night in the other’s room. It started off with neither of them wanting to say goodnight. Harry laid on her blankets while she tucked herself, holding hands; they dozed off to sleep. It was a no-brainer after that because they both enjoyed waking up to one another. Nothing goes on except a bit of kissing. She can’t say she hasn’t been craving something more but knows there is no need to rush her time with Harry.

“It’s chisme time,” Y/N tells him. “Anything to share.”

“I love Gossip.” Harry takes a seat next to Y/N, leaving not a single space between them. “Did you know we’re not having soup for lunch?”

Everyone collectively groans, “banished, you’re no longer welcome,” Quinn shooed him away.

“Hey now, I got a better one,” Harry leans in closer. He glances at Y/N before telling the others to get close, leaving Y/N out of their makeshift circle.

Y/N sits back, relaxed; with Harry, there is no need to worry about anything. June and Felix lean back, “Oh,” at the news while Quinn looks confused. He looks at Y/N, then back to Harry, then again to Y/N.

“Lies. Not real. She doesn’t have the game,” Quinn says while looking at her.

While Y/N has no idea what Harry whispered to them, June’s grin says it all. She knows it has to do with the dates they’ve been going on. Y/N had mentioned she liked Harry, but they all assumed she would do nothing about it.

“H, what did you do? It seems like they’re broken now.” Y/N points out to her two loudest bandmates, who have not said a single word, and Quinn, who has started to pace around on stage.

Harry leans back on his arms as he takes in the scene before him. “Simply told them I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Had no idea you were keeping me as your dirty little secret.”

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “no, never, it’s ju—” she cuts herself off, seeing that his dimples are on display and not an ounce of sadness or pain. “You’re annoying.”

“But you like me!”

“Whatever.”

“You brushed of my question.”

“More like a statement,” she rebuttals. “Clearly not how you’re going to ask me.”

Harry sends her a cheeky wink, “course not.”

“Then you’ll have to wait for my answer until then. Now shoo, I’ve got to rehearse and answer all their dumb questions.”

Harry kissed her cheek with a loud “muah” and promised to head to her room tonight.

There was a sense of anxiety that had been with Y/N all day. Harry had made a bold statement tonight, and she wondered if he did it to give her the time to see if that was what she wanted. Harry was not like someone she had ever been with. She never had to speak on her emotions; she always went with the flow, but Harry is giving her the choice here. Y/N is nowhere near ready for the conversation, and it seems Harry knows because when he arrives in her room and sees the stress in her eyes, he takes her in his arms and tells her it’s time for bed.

Harry takes a shower while Y/N changes into an old tour shirt and boxers. Harry enters the bedroom to find her lying in the middle of the king-sized bed.

“You look adorable.”

“Cute enough for cuddles?”

Harry laughs, “always.”

He makes his way to her after double-checking the lock on her door and ensuring his phone is off. He lifts the blankets and settles behind Y/N, his hands slipping under her shirt and pulling her towards him. Y/N sighs and melts against him.

“There’s no pressure to have this conversation. I want you to know where I stand. I know I might not have gone about it the best way, but I want you to know you have as much control over this relationship as I do.”

With Harry’s reassuring words, Y/N felt at ease. She knew she was overthinking everything, but Harry understood her like no one else had.

“I like you, Harry,” she confessed. “I like you a lot. I-I-how you manage to always have the right words escapes me, but I’m thankful. I like you, and I like where this is going.”

Harry squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I like you too. Promise, I’m sticking around.”

Y/N knows she’s lucky to have Harry.

“¡Hola Barcelona! Yo me llamo Y/N, gracias por acompañarnos esta noche.” The crowd cheers after hearing her Spanish. “I know, right, pretty good. My grandpa taught me a living legend he still is. Think he’ll be proud. Let’s have some fun tonight.”

Y/N, as soon as she gets off stage, feels a heaviness in her heart because, after tonight, there are only three shows left. It means not seeing her friends and the new friends she has made for a long time. Y/N is jumping straight into a tour in two months, meaning she’s got to start rehearsals in a month. While she doesn’t know what comes next, she does hope to finish her album before she heads out on tour. Harry had accompanied her to the studio, and even Mitch had tagged along, wanting to see her process. It led to them playing guitar in a few of her songs. These memories she’s made throughout this tour will live within her new album.

Y/N didn’t know how much her life would change by accepting to be Harry’s opening act. She knows she should bask in the happiness while she can, but the reminder lingers in her mind. Y/N finds Harry and is not surprised to find him with Mitch. They’re speaking about Mitch’s album while Sarah is lying on the couch with her son, who’s napping. There has been so much to happen since this tour started, and Y/N never gets tired of hearing the stories.

“Dinner?” Harry raises his head when he hears her voice. Mitch waves at her but doesn’t offer her a word; instead focuses on Sarah.

Harry rushes over to her, wrapping her in a hug. “Promise I watched. Mitch stole me away quickly.”

Y/N laughs. Harry not watching didn’t even cross her mind. “You’re fine. Wouldn’t blame you, boring for you with the same ol’ setlist each night.”

“Hey now,” Harry defends. “That’s my favorite singer, you're insulting.”

“Oh, Stevie Nicks is not going to like that,” Mitch comments.

“Wanker!” Harry gives Mitch the middle finger and guides them to get soup, Harry’s favorite food, before a show. It’s known to settle his nerves.

“That’s okay, Hozier is mine,” Y/N chirps, sharing a laugh with Mitch.

“Irish tend to be superior,” Mitch agrees.

Harry walks out with Y/N, sending Mitch a wave. Harry walked them to his green room, requesting his soup and Y/N’s sandwich to be sent. She told him she’d pick it up, but Harry shared he wanted a minute alone with her. Y/N hadn’t technically been with Harry long; it’s only been two weeks, give or take a few hours, but she’d known him for months. There was no need to talk as Y/N settled on the couch with him. She felt tired after her set, all the adrenaline gone. Harry asked her for dinner, and then she’d watch Harry from her dressing room with the rest of her band. The final days were approaching, and Y/N knew she’d prepare to say goodbye to them, too, even if it was for a few weeks.

They settled in the silence, no need for conversation. Y/N was content to be wrapped in Harry’s arms as he closed his eyes, breathing her in. Y/N had not let herself think about the end of the tour because she wanted to enjoy every moment, and now, with the end so close, she honestly never pictured herself falling in love with Harry. She knows she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She had him and would protect this relationship for as long as she was allowed to have him and even long after.

After a successful show, Harry came to sleep in Y/N’s room with the promise he wanted to be close to her. Y/N was not one to deny him of any request, not when he kept her safe. Y/N woke up feeling too warm with Harry’s hand flat against her warm skin. He loved physical touch and kept his hold on her even in his sleep. Y/N shimmied behind him but stopped when she felt how hard he was. She knew it was normal, but a part of her wanted to take care of it and take the next step with him.

“Baby, you got to stop moving,” Harry groaned in her ear. Y/N paused, thinking he might not be on the same page but as if he could read her mind, “unless you want me to take care of you.”

Y/N stayed frozen because her mind was running wild on the possibilities that could happen. She had dreamed about Harry taking care of her, but now, making it happen, Y/N was at a loss for words.

Harry turned Y/N, making her lay on her back, and he shifted above her with a gentle smile. “Morning, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” she breathed out.

Y/N knew she didn’t look her best, with tired eyes and crazy hair, not even mentioning she hadn’t brushed her teeth, but by the way, Harry was gazing at her, it was clear he wasn’t thinking the same.

“You’re beautiful. Thought you were a figment of my imagination, but here you are, spread out under me.”

She feels her face heat up, loving how warm his words make her feel.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll give you whatever you ask for.” She knows he means it. He’s a giver. It’s what brings him the most joy.

“Want you to touch me,” she spoke softly.

Harry kneeled over her, careful not to let his entire body sit on her. He ran his fingers up her arm, biting back a smile at the goosebumps that raised over her body. Y/N’s breathing slowed down as her eyes never left his. “Where, baby?”

Y/N shimmied, her face burning. She couldn’t, but she knew he’d continue to play with her if she didn't. His hands now tracing over her stomach and up to her breast. Y/N pushed against his hand, but he pulled away, tutting at her greediness.

She didn’t have the words, but Y/N guided his hand, resting on her stomach to her wet pussy. Harry moaned when he felt how ready she was for him. “Here, baby. Need me here?”

“Please, Harry. Need you to take care of me,” she begs.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Consent had never felt so sexy.

“Yes, please, Harry.”

“You’re not wearing panties.”

Y/N has to hold back a laugh because she is begging him to make her come, and he is focused on her having no panties. “I run hot, you know that.”

He glided his fingers around her pussy, spreading around her wetness. She let out a needy moan when he slid his fingers inside her. The feel of her clenching around his fingers made him eager to add another. Harry loved seeing her like this. It made him want to give her everything. In and out, he moved his fingers inside her, rubbing and stroking her swollen lips. She laid their legs spread out, head back, taking it all. Harry knew she was close, but he was greedy for a taste.

Harry lowered his mouth to her stomach, pushing her shirt up, allowing him to kiss her breasts before continuing down the path calling for him. He kissed along her thighs, and Y/N felt her breathing slow down. He continued with his slow kisses along her hips up to her belly and back down again. Sliding his hands under her ass, he pulled her closer.

“Oh baby, I need to taste you.” His warm breath tickled my skin as he lowered his mouth and bit into the inside of her thigh. Y/N let out a loud moan, urging him to continue. He kissed her repeatedly, knowing it would bruise. He was glad to mark her his.

Y/N let out a soft cry as his tongue licked up her thigh. She needed everything as he moved closer to where she was ready for him. He slowly dragged his tongue through her folds.

Fuck.

“Harry, Harry,” she chanted his name.

Y/N could only beg for more as Harry muttered something about how delicious she tasted. As he licked into her, he slid one finger into her as his thumb rubbed against her clit. In seconds, Y/N was lifting to meet each thrust of his finger.

“You sound so beautiful with my name on your lips,” he dived back in. “Want me to make you mine?”

“Yes,” Y/N moaned. “All yours. Only yours.”

Y/N was writhing and wiggling anything to keep him pressed against her clit as his tongue thrust inside her. Everything was on fire; every nerve in her body was firing off. He slipped another finger, and Y/N exploded. It all became so much, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as she felt her orgasm rip through her. Y/N felt Harry slow down, lazily moving away from her, with no apparent rush in wanting to leave her. Harry slowly sits up; she sees hooded eyes, her eyes focused on the mess she’d made on his face. Harry raised his hand and slipped his wet fingers in his mouth, cleaning the last of her juices. Y/N knows they’d get going for a second round if he's not careful.

“Let me kiss you,” she begged, her voice rough.

Harry ran a tongue over his lips, making a show of cleaning her off him, “not ready to share yet.”

“Nasty,” she chastised before she leaned up, placing her hand on the back of his neck and pulling him for a heated kiss. “Will you come for me, Harry?” She mumbled against his lips.

She pushed away, removing her shirt, throwing it to the side, and lying back, allowing him the view of her breasts, her nipples hard as she begged him to come. Harry slid down his briefs, and Y/N gasped at how beautiful he looked hard and thick because of her. Y/N reached for him, but Harry shook his head, a clear sign this would be quick. Harry wet his hand, moving it steadily up and down his base. Y/N was mesmerized. She played with her tits as he stroked himself, knowing he loved the show.

“Come for me, Harry,” she purred. “Show me how good I helped make you feel. Show me how much you loved making me come. The feel of your tongue is something I never want to forget. How well you take care of me.”

“Fuck, baby. Didn’t know you could be so dirty.”

“Promise to take you down my throat next time. Let you use me any way you want. Please, Harry, come for me.”

That was all he needed for him to come on her skin.

“You’re a dirty girl,” he comments.

Y/N winks, “only for you.”

As they settled down from the high, Harry cleaned her up with an old shirt of his. They stayed cuddled on the large bed, sitting in silence. There was so much said between them, but they both knew they meant every word. It would be only up from here, even if only a few days were left.

Y/N has enjoyed meeting new people, but this tour introduced her to new friends. Harry’s band is lovely and quite large; he has his main band, but during the disco medley, as he likes to call it, he brings out the horns. She found herself overtime making her way to their dressing room, watching them get ready for the night. Throughout her time on the tour, she earned her spot in their room as she watched them get ready before her set or after.

Tonight was no different. Y/N was talking with Lorren and Parris about their plans after the tour. They shared they had shows lined up, but a break was the first thing they were looking forward to, and Y/N had to agree.

“Lorren, can I ask you something?”

Lorren turned to Y/N with a bright smile, “well, of course.”

“Well, I was wondering if you could add stars to my face. Quite good at my eyeliner but shit at anything else,” Y/N confessed.

Lorren looked thrilled. “Yes, please, yes. Thank you for asking.” Lorren stood up from her chair, giving it a pat for Y/N to make her way over. Lorren complimented Y/N’s skin and makeup, stating it was flawless. Y/N thought it better be she was religious with her skincare. She learned over time less was more and stuck with it. Sometimes, not even Y/N could escape her eyebags when she worked too long in the studio.

She sat perfectly still for Lorren, continuing to talk to Kalia about her new musical release. It was something everyone had been waiting for; they were all incredibly proud. They segway to talking about Pauli, who, thanks to him, had brought them all on from the North America tour to right here in Lisbon and a final show in Italy.

Y/N soon felt the room fall quiet. She got lost in her thoughts when a shutter made her snap her eyes open. It was only Georgia, her photographer, taking photos. “Scared me, Georgie.”

Georgie laughed, “sorry, but you did tell me to capture everything.”

Y/N wondered what she meant by that; before she could ask, Lorren declared her finished. She looked in the mirror and gasped at how perfectly they blended with the purple eyeshadow she used today. Y/N noticed Lorren added glitter to give it that extra glimmer.

She hugged Lorren, thanking her over and over again. She would have continued if Georgie didn’t remind her she had to change. Y/N wished the room luck and rushed to her dressing room, where her outfit was laid out.

One final look in the mirror, and Y/N’s ready to go. She walks out, happy to find Zahara, who came to celebrate the end of tour with her. “You made it!” Y/N cheers.

Zahara wraps her in a hug. “No thanks to stupid United. Canceled my flight twice.”

Y/N winces, “don’t even want to imagine the conversation you had.”

“It was not pretty,” Zahara shares.

Y/N stands side stage with Zahara, chatting while Ash helps secure her mic pack while Zahara makes her promise not to do anything she wouldn’t do. Zahara doesn’t even know what she’s asking of her, especially because she has no idea who Y/N has been kissing behind closed doors.

She rushes on stage; her signature mini skirt is back tonight, paired with a baby tee Harry ordered for her. It’s black and has bedazzled constellations all around, a big reason she asked Lorren for stars on her face. Y/N spent a large portion of her morning with Harry, thanking him for the gift.

Harry watches Y/N sing her heart out to the crowd. This song Harry knows Y/N wrote when she was going through a bad breakup. While it hurts him to think about her with anyone else, he also knows he’s started to write endless songs about her and knows she’s done the same. Zahara greets him courtly, and he wonders if she knows.

“Listen, Harry.” He steps closer, but Zahara never looks at him. “If you do anything–and I mean anything to smear her image, I’ll make you regret it. This girl has fought tooth and nail to be where she is.” Harry sees the fire in her eyes. “Y/N doesn’t open up easily, and I know you wormed your way in. You’re a good guy, but even a good person can break a heart. You know what it’s like to be talked about.”

Harry knows first hand how ruthless the media is. “I would never want that for her.”

Zahara sighs, “I know. She’s special, and I think she’s proved that even more because of this opportunity you gave her.”

“I-I- didn’t expect to fall for her,” Harry defends because he hadn’t, but one conversation with her, and there was no stopping it.

“She’s got that charm,” Zahara laughs. “Look at me here to watch her finish a tour when I’ve got so much to do. You’d do anything knowing you put that smile on her face.”

Harry knows Zahara is right and goes back to watching Y/N. He can’t help it when he takes out his phone to record her because he wants to remember these moments of her on stage. He knows her setlist by heart and knows she’s got three songs left. What he doesn’t expect is for her to shoot a wink towards Zahara, and then they watch her jump off the stage. She makes it look effortless, but he’s worried and moves forward to try to stop her. Zahara shoots her arm out to stop him. “Slow down, rockstar. She’s got this.”

“You’re okay with this?”

“Oh, I’m furious,” she confesses, “but she did it with me in the audience, knowing I’d keep her safe.”

Y/N walks through the barricade, serenading fans and security in front and behind her. It’s the only thing that brings him a bit of comfort. The cameras follow her around, showing her on the large screen, making him laugh because he can see how much she enjoys it. She walks the entire catwalk, hugging fans who are clearly there for her as much as they are for him. She reads a few signs, and by the time she returns to the stage, she has friendship bracelets lining her wrist, a shirt on her shoulder, and two bouquets of flowers. Y/N laughs in their direction, clearly noting the disbelief on both their faces. Y/N continues the show, giving 100% energy until she sings her final note.

She hurries off straight into Zahara’s open arms. While he can’t hear what Zahara is whispering to Y/N, he knows it has to be about him for her face to look flushed and not from her hour-long performance. Zahara pushed her towards Harry, who was waiting for his turn. Y/N settles in his embrace as he kisses her head repeatedly. “You’re mental, absolutely insane.”

Y/N giggles against his chest, “how rude.”

Harry puts his hands on her cheeks, pulling her back the slightest bit to get her to look at him. “You were brilliant! A shining star, you have the crowd in the palm of your hand.” Y/N’s smile shines at his words.

“You’ve got lovely fans. They make it easy.”

He holds back from kissing her but promises to see her later.

Y/N watches him go, not caring that Zahara and the band will tease her endlessly for it. She doesn’t mind one bit.

“I’ve been on tour with one of my favorite artists, Y/N Y/LN.” Harry lets the crowd cheer for her, knowing Y/N is waiting for him to call her onstage. “She’s got amazing songs, and lucky for you all, I asked her to sing a song with me for you all. So everyone welcome Y/N to the stage.” In her outfit from earlier, Y/N walks out, guitar strapped to her chest, waving to the fans. She sees hundreds of phones in the air as she stands at her mic stand. They had rehearsed today, with Harry promising he was ready. He seemed to know the entire song by heart and had his band learn it. “Let’s go!”

Y/N never imagined being on stage singing her dirtiest song with Harry to a sold-out stadium. Y/N can’t seem to look away from him; it has her bringing out all her sensual dance moves when she plays this song. It’s a reason she cut it from her setlist tonight to play it specifically with him. When it comes to an end, Y/N turns to the Love band, giving them a round of applause.

“How about one more?” Harry asks Y/N into the microphone.

She smirks, “I'd be honored.”

Y/N hands off her guitar to Chloe, waiting to pack it away for her. Then, he prances back over as Harry begins ‘Daylight.’ Y/N had always enjoyed this song, the sweetness packed in the lyrics. It's a song about a lover coming and going. While they’re home, he’s happy and full of joy, but once they’re gone, the mood falls, and he’s left missing them. It’s a feeling she’s familiar with, and she knows that Harry has lost a person due to being away for so long. It does make her think about her finished album and how it was influenced by everyone around her, romantical or not.

As she comes over to sing into Harry’s mic, not minding the closeness, the cheers get louder as they stay together. She feels Harry’s eyes burning into the side of her head, and she dances away, letting him continue. When it’s her turn again, she returns to his mic, looking straight at him. She smirks, singing his lyrics. She sees his eyes darken and knows she’s in for a fun night.

Once the song ends, Harry lets the crowd give Y/N a long applause. Harry pulls her in for a tight hug, “thank you for doing this with me.”

Y/N gives him a light kiss on the cheek, thankful her face is hidden from the crowd, “thank you for inviting me.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

Y/N laughs because she feels the same way. “Promise, I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. Go have fun, rockstar.”

She runs off stage straight into June’s teasing arms. Y/N doesn’t even mind not when her thoughts are running wild watching Harry continue with the show.

“Babes, we’ve got to spend the show down there,” Felix begs, pointing to the crowd of fans leaning against the barrier.

Y/N’s eyes widen, “in the pit?”

They nod. Y/N knows they won’t stop until they do, so she compromises with them. They’ll go in between the catwalk and barricade for the last songs.

“I’m down,” Quinn quickly says.

“Can you get Harry to wet us?” June asks seriously.

Dear God. What is she going to do with them?

Once they’re down watching Harry prance around, he changes it up and plays a surprise song that makes them all lose their mind. Followed by screaming their lungs to ‘As It Was,’ nothing better than yelling “Leave America” with a sold-out crowd. By the time Kiwi rolls around, Harry has spotted them and jokes for Y/N to give him her number. There are many oohs in response, but Y/N sends him a wink. The band got what they wished for, and Harry gave them a good splash, one Y/N avoided by hiding under Quinn’s jacket. Harry is about to do his signature exit when he freezes and spots the cup of beer in her hand. She offers it to him as a joke but complies when he signals for her to pass it over. He mouths, “thank you, baby,” and the next thing she knows, he’s doing the whale with her beer. Fuck, if she didn’t want to get him naked now more than ever, as she saw the beer run down his neck and bare chest.

“Fuck me, I’m glad one of us is fucking him,” June mutters to her.

Y/N doesn’t bother correcting her friend. As her friends walk her back, she’s lost in her head because she enjoys being with Harry. Y/N knows she took her time discovering her feelings and allowing herself to fall for Harry; now that she has, it’s all-consuming. She is filled with so much safety and love; she’s used to being overwhelmed, but Harry makes her feel at peace. Having these conversations about what they are to each other is stupid, but she knows she owes it to Harry to tell him how she’s feeling.

She walks to his dressing room to find him changed and has his bag swung on his shoulder, meaning he’s leaving. “Heading out?”

He turns his head when he hears her voice. “Yeah, beat traffic.”

Y/N nods and stays quiet. She knows she’ll see him back at the hotel but feels like this can’t wait.

“Harry, I—”

“H, we got to go,” Jeff interrupts, rushing in behind her.

Harry frowns but doesn’t argue. He stands in front of her, reaching for her hand. He intertwines her fingers between his and pulls her along with him. “Come with me,” he begs.

Y/N begins to tell him she can’t when Quinn swings her bag at her, telling her she’s good to go. Harry gives her a deadpan stare, waiting for her to try to provide him with a reason why she can’t, but decides to give in. “Lead the way, H.”

The car ride to their hotel is quiet. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder as Harry comes down from the night's adrenaline. Her hand rests on his lap. She knows they will leave for Italy tomorrow. While excited for the last show, she’s sad it’s all ending. Y/N and Harry walk in together through a private entrance and say goodnight to Jeff as they head into Harry’s room. Her stuff never made it to her room, and it won’t in Italy either.

Harry heads to the shower while Y/N heads to the sink to remove all her makeup. This all feels domestic to her, doing this routine with Harry as if they’ve done it for years.

“You taking my beer was pretty bold,” Y/N comments when she hears the water shut off.

He dries off before exiting. She sees a towel wrapped around his waist and laughs when she sees it fits him a bit too small. “Thought you were offering it.”

“Ever heard of a cheers,” she teases.

Harry kisses her cheek and promises to warm her side of the bed. While Y//N showers and does her skincare, she thinks of what she will say to Harry. Her mind is going crazy, and she wants to get it in order before she just spills it all to him.

“Baby, you coming?”

Y/N replies to give her a second. She finds Harry sitting in bed, his book on his lap and the blanket untucked, waiting for her to settle in. Y/N kneels on the covers facing Harry, knowing she has to get the words out tonight.

“Need to tell you something,” she breathes out.

Harry looks at her concerned but gives her his undivided attention. “Course, love.”

“I-I like you. I know I’ve said that, but I like waking up with you. I love going on dates with you. Holding hands brings the biggest smile to my face. Your hugs bring me so much love and safety. I enjoy having conversations about everything and nothing, but I also love sitting in silence with you.”

“Y/N,” Harry begins, but she shakes her head. He reaches for her hand and holds it tight.

“I feel like it’s so soon to say these words, but I hope you feel it in every action and touch. I’m head over heels for you, Harry. I-I know I made you wait; I had to figure out my feelings, but I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you. Will you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asks. Once those words are out, she sinks her face in her hands. “God, that’s so fucking cheesy.”

“Hey, hey,” she hears Harry moving, then feels his hands pulling her hands away. He’s careful not to pressure her but lets him see her. “There’s my pretty girl.”

Y/N shakes her head; she really said all that.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I appreciate it. I like knowing where you stand. Do you want to know how I feel?” Y/N nods her head. “Well, love. I’m crazy about you, too. I like sitting with you and watching you play the piano. I love trading books we’ve finished reading because yours always have different annotations for me to find. I like seeing you watching me perform. I love watching you perform for an audience, and I can’t wait to see a show soon where the entire audience is there for you. I’m falling in love, and I know you’ll be there to catch me.”

She feels her eyes well up with tears because Y/N has never been good at expressing her emotions, but with Harry, she’d conquer every fear to make sure she can make him feel loved and seen. She presses her lips against his and melts against the familiar taste. With a soft moan, she shifted close as his mouth opened over hers, and his tongue slid between her lips. She might have initiated the kiss, but Harry seems to be the one who always takes control. She was always okay with that. She tilted her head so he could kiss her more deeply. He didn’t need more encouragement. The kiss became intense; heat flashed through her, making her thighs clench, and while she would love to take this further, she knew they needed to rest.

His hands trailed up her nightshirt, and she broke away to let out a loud moan when she felt him squeeze her ass. “H-h-harry, not tonight,” she managed to make out.

Harry slows his hands, bringing them back to her waist. “But we can kiss,” he asks against her lips.

“All night if you want.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he teases.

Harry pats her ass and helps her get under the covers. Y/N laughs when he turns her to be facing him. He wedges himself between her legs to be close; there’s no way of knowing where she begins, and he ends.

It’s a perfect night.

Italy has always been perfect to Y/N, from the people to the food to the views. While Y/N knows enough Italian to get around and understand it, Harry is basically fluent. He’d been practicing his speech all morning. His only break was to give Y/N one last wake-up call that had her screaming his name.

Y/N and Harry spent a few days roaming Italy together. They were officially a couple and were enjoying it. Harry kissed her every chance he could get. Y/N always had a hold of Harry, whether it be his hand or at the small of his back. It’s clear everyone knows they’re together, not that they made an announcement but because they are always spending time together. Where one goes, the other follows.

June, Quinn, Felix, and Y/N sit together in the green room, discussing their favorite moments from the tour. Quinn said in Amsterdam, some strangers let him join their bar hopping. He ended up finding he could not hold his liquor like they could. Felix shared it was playing at Slane Castle. They heard stories of never thinking it would be them on that stage. June made them all cry by stating that every moment on stage with them was special to her. June is going on a break after this, needing to go home and be with her family, while Y/N accepted that she would miss her best friend. Y/N shared it was exploring new studios while writing her new album.

“You have to play it for us soon!” Felix expresses.

Y/N nudges her friend, “who else would I show first?”

Quinn nudges her. “Someone named Harry.”

“Promise it’s almost done. Think I’m just missing an album name,” she shares, knowing she finished recording most songs.

Before the band can start throwing names at her, there’s a knock on the door, and Harry comes in with the Love band, all holding something behind their back. June narrows her eyes at Harry, not one for surprises, but Y/N knows this will be good.

“Y/N and band, thank you for joining us on an amazing, successful tour this year. I enjoyed listening to you every night,” Harry tells them honestly. Everyone echoes his words. “That being said, we got you a gift.”

They were all presented with a bag, and June and Quinn were quick to rip into it while Felix made sure not to make a mess. Y/N held the gift close to her chest but watched her friends open their presents first. June held a black sweater to her chest. It had her name embroidered on one side and Love on tour on the other. “Shit, we get some too!” June exclaims. “I was so jealous of y’all.”

Quinn pulls out a pair of shoes, “satellite stompers,” to be exact. His smile is wide, and he quickly bounces over to pull Harry in for a hug. “Thanks, man.”

Y/N doesn’t open hers because she was the one to give Harry their sizes, so she’s not expecting anything else.

June turns to Y/N, pointing a finger, “how did he know our sizes?” Y/N grins while June gasps accusingly. “I bitched and moaned about not having one. Is this a pity gift?”

Harry quickly assures her he wanted to give them to all of them in private. Everyone in the crew got some; he meant everyone from the band to Y/N’s photographer. Every person was necessary on this tour, and Harry wanted to make it known with a gift. Harry stepped close to Y/N and gestured for her to open hers. She gives him a suspicious look but does as he asks. She removes the jacket quickly, slipping it on when she spots a bow at the bottom. Y/N looks at him surprised because when she pulls it out, she sees it’s one she had shown him a few weeks ago. It’s an intricate bow with wildflowers embroidered on it. It has unique beading to create this delicate bow.

“The meadow bow,” she whispers, delicately touching the ends.

Harry’s cheeks warm when he sees her expression. Y/N blinks away her tears because it’s unreasonable to cry, but the fact that Harry listened to her when she went on about something as silly as her bows and ribbons. Y/N doesn’t think about what she’s about to do; she only knows she wants to thank Harry. Y/N hugs Harry, but she pulls away quickly, connecting their lips in a kiss. Harry is frozen for a second but promptly responds, both easily sinking into each other. The hollers and cheers make her break away, leaning her head on his chest.

“Sorry, H,” she sighs.

“Don’t mind. Think you should do it again.”

“Not again,” June yells. “You cute together, but I don’t want to see that.”

Harry promises to let them get ready.

“Will you be watching?” Quinn asks.

Harry nods, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

“The entire family is watching,” Gemma chimes in. Harry gasped, not knowing she had arrived.

“Gems!” Harry rushes over to scoop his older sister in a hug. Y/N knows when Gemma says the entire family, she means it. They all promised to sing their hearts out for him. Y/N had met most of them during the few shows in Wembley, but she was merely an opener, and now she is Harry’s girlfriend.

“Come on, Y/N. Mum wants to say hello,” Gemma calls for her as she drags Harry out. Y/N promises not to be long, but the band brushes her off, telling her they already have good company.

Y/N has the best time with Harry and his family. They share laughs about young Harry being nervous to sing in front of a crowd and now ending a tour with over 90,000 people. Anne can’t stop her tears, which makes Harry emotional, too. He stays cuddled at her side. Anne asks Y/N about her tour, and Y/N invites them to opening night. “Don’t know if you’d be able to make it, but it’d be lovely to have you there. My mum and a few cousins are attending.”

Anne reaches over Harry to squeeze her hand, promising to be there. “Course we’ll come. Your mum is lovely. Can’t wait to catch up.”

Starting off a tour in London was the right choice for her because she wants to be in her own bed before she sleeps in a different one each night again. Y/N excused herself, needing to prepare for one final Love on Tour show.

Y/N huddled her band before going on stage. “You are my favorite people. I feel so lucky to do this with you every night. One last night with June, let’s make it unforgettable.”

“I love you,” Felix shouts. They laugh, squeezing each other tight, echoing the words to each other. And with that, Y/N and the band take the stage one final time.

“Italy, you have been an absolute dream. Each night, every crowd welcomed us with open arms, and when you sing back my lyrics, that is something I will never forget. I couldn’t do it alone, though. My amazing, amazing band. Felix, June, and Quinn are my family. Without them, I would not be where I am, and I will never forget that. June is actually taking a break after this tour. She’s going away, but she’ll be back. The spot is open if Sarah Jones is looking for a job.” The crowd laughs while June shakes her head in disbelief but also knows Y/N would never pass up a chance to work with someone at the caliber that Sarah Jones is at. “Most importantly, thank you to Harry Styles for inviting me out on tour. It’s the best choice I could have ever made. You have shown me kindness from the first moment we met. Thank you for allowing me to use your stage each night, but most importantly, thank you for showing me how music inspires you to do good and always do better. This last song is dedicated to you, H.”

Y/N hurries off stage after playing “The Last Man on Earth” and runs straight to the dressing room, where she cries into June’s shoulder. This tour has her saying goodbye to her best friends but opening new opportunities because she knows there is a conversation she’s been dodging for some time now and knowing Harry today won’t end until he gets his way.

“That was beautiful. Every night, honestly.” Y/N steps away from June, wipes away her tears and is thankful she decided not to do her eyeliner tonight, or she’d look worse than she feels. Harry had come to see them all but mostly knew his girlfriend would need a bit of comfort.

“Harry, my man. Thank you,” Quinn answers, pulling him into a hug. Everyone does the same, but Y/N stands frozen. It seems everyone can pick up on the tension and give her a moment alone with him.

Harry hurries over and takes her in his arms. Y/N relaxes in his hold because he’s always had that calming effect on her. “You were wonderful. Had me in tears.”

Y/N giggles against his chest, “stop it.”

“Seriously,” he laughs, and Y/N feels it go through her. “Jeff was recording me, laughing at my tears.”

“Thank you, H. I know you said you’d watch, but knowing you were in the crowd made tonight even more special.”

Harry kisses the top of her head. “It was all you. Don’t know how I will survive without seeing you every day.”

“You can follow me on tour,” Y/N offers.

“Now that’s a thought.”

They settle in silence, neither one having anything to say. Simply enjoying their time together. Y/N doesn’t know how much time passes, but she knows he’s got to get dressed.

“I really like you, Y/N,” Harry whispers into the quiet of the room.

“Harry,” Y/N pulls back to look at him. Those emerald eyes are full of love, and Y/N knows it for her. She has to let herself be happy, and it’s clear Harry is a big part of bringing that joy to her life.

“I like you,” he repeats. “And I’ll keep liking you tomorrow and every day that is to come. I’m letting you know how I feel. We’ve discussed it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t remind you. Will forever be crazy about you.”

“I’m crazy about you, too,” Y/N breathes out. “You fill me with so much happiness.”

Harry smirks, “enough to join me on holiday for a few more days?”

She looks at him, confused.

“My family and a few friends are spending time in my home here. If you’d like to join us–join me,” he offers timidly.

“You mean it?”

Harry nods, “nothing better than you in a bikini,” he teases.

She slaps his shoulder, “I’m there.”

“Good.”

Harry kisses Y/N. She is quick to soften beneath him and eagerly reciprocates the kiss. Y/N loves his touch, and with each kiss, she feels herself heat up and knows where this could lead, but there is just no time. “Harry,” she mutters against him. “You’ve got to get ready.”

He sighs against her, “one more.”

Y/N happily agrees.

Y/N can’t stop her hands from shaking. She’s done everything she could think of, from doing math problems in her head to focusing on her breathing, yet nothing is working as she waits for Harry to introduce her.

“I don’t know if many of you know, but I personally requested for Y/N to join us on tour. I didn’t know if she would be available, but my manager told me to have hope, and here we are now. I-I-honestly know she’s one of our generation's best writers and singers. I feel fortunate to have shared this time with her. Something none of you know is that Y/N loves playing my piano. She’s written a lot of her second album on it. So I thought it would be fitting to bring it out and sing with her. Everyone, please welcome Y/N!”

She walks out from behind the stage. Y/N waves at the crowd she had greeted an hour earlier. Y/N feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest. It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with; it was something she told the crowd.

“Feel special. Y/N is the definition of calm and collected,” Harry teases. “Now, this is Y/N’s song, and I thought maybe you’d want to hear a bit.”

“It’s called ‘Right Now’. I hope you enjoy.” They had planned this: Harry would play the keys, and Y/N would sing, but for some reason, her nerves were getting the best of her, and Harry started the song for her. Hearing Harry sing her lyrics comforted her because he genuinely enjoyed her music. Her voice blended in with Harry’s before it was her all alone. Y/N stayed on the bench with Harry, feeling too vulnerable to go out to the crowd. It was insane debuting a song to a crowd that maybe wouldn’t relate to her words, but she sang with every emotion she could pour out for the odd chance that someone did. Y/N felt Harry’s eyes on her and turned to smile at him. Thanks to Harry, she finished this album and finished this song. These songs weren’t written about him; they have him intertwined in the stories she’ll share about this album.

Before she knows it, she’s singing the final lyric, and Harry plays the last note. “Everyone, Y/N!” The applause is thunderous, making Y/N tear up. She tries to imprint this moment in her mind because she never wants to forget it. Harry walks her off as the piano is taken away, though none of the fans know it will return by the night's end. Harry leaves her backstage, wiping away the few tears that escaped her.

“Thank you, that was beautiful,” he kissed her cheek.

He goes to walk away, but Y/N pulls him back in by his vest and kisses him. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, holding her to him as he devoured her mouth. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she breathes out.

Harry is tempted to kiss her again, but he knows if he does, he’ll get lost in her and can’t do that when he has a show to return to. “It’s me. I’m the lucky one. ” He runs back, asking the crowd if they’re ready to do some dancing. The cheers are enough for him to continue on.

The show goes on, and Y/N has the time of her life. She goes out after her song to dance and sing with his family in the crowd. Harry finds them all easily, but the tears don’t stop when he takes his time to thank his mum and sister. To thank his friends who have been there from the start, Y/N knows he’s including her in the thank you’s because he reminds her time and time again that she changed his life in a way he never expected.

Y/N knew about the ballad he would be playing on the piano. It’s something they worked on together, but something she didn’t expect was the quietness of the crowd. There is no sound except a few people crying as this lovely melody fills the area.

Harry walks off the stage in tears, and the band soon follows. Y/N knew she’d be emotional, but she can’t seem to stop crying. She walks hand in hand with June backstage, where she sees Harry hugging his mother and moving on to his sister. They all huddle in Harry’s dressing room as they erupt in cheers, celebrating the end of the tour. Y/N knows she’ll find a minute with him alone but, for now observes Harry being showered in the love he deserves. The room slowly began to filter out, giving Harry a moment to shower and change out of his clothes, but before she could leave, she felt someone grab her wrist, and the door shut behind her. Harry stood in front of her dimpled smile on his face. His emerald eyes were shining bright.

Happiness looked good on him.

“Congrats on a successful tour, Harry!” Y/N wrapped him in a hug, aware of his bare chest.

His arms held her tight as he swayed her side to side. “Thank you for writing that song with me.”

“Our first of many,” she promises.

Harry breathes her in, letting them stand in silence, soaking in the moment. This is a day they both would look back at fondly. It’s a story they’ll tell their future children.

“Thank you for bringing love to me,” Harry whispers. He loved touring and, at times, found it lonely, but ever since Y/N joined, it’s like he found his missing half. He never felt alone because he knew she was always close by.

Y/N shakes her head, “think it was all you.”

Harry ponders for a second. He was the one with the idea to bring her on as a tour opener. “Think it was.”

He connects his mouth with hers in a passionate kiss. She feels him grin against her as he pushes her against the door. His hands roam her back before resting on her waist while hers find a home in his hair. Y/N had been craving him since he kissed her halfway through his show. She kissed him, hoping her mouth said everything she hadn’t spoken aloud.

Y/N knows this is the next part of her story. It’s not ending or starting; she’s simply turning the page to create a new chapter. Y/N has no idea where she’ll be in one year, let alone five, but one thing she does know for certain is that she loves Harry.

thank you for reading 💜💜💜 please feel free to send me a message of what you loved from the story

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles stories #harry story #harry fluff #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry angst #harry styles fic rec

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onlyjaeyun · 1 year

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𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

⁂ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⁂ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭; 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩!𝐀𝐔, 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐣𝐚𝐲

⁂ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟖𝐤

⁂ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯 𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐠 (𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐦— 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥) 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐣𝐚𝐲, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝-𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐣𝐚𝐲, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡), 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥

⁂ 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝟑-𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐭𝐰! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐣𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! 𝐱𝐱 𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞)

⁂ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧…

You don‘t know what it is, but something about your boyfriend‘s workplace never fails to excite you.

There are definitely a few things you can think of but one of the main reasons is the heavy contrast between your own and the tattoo shop‘s aesthetic build, which makes you even more nervous and excited to be there.

With all the black and gray, the few dark green and blue shades, everything about it reminds you of your lover and just how fascinating the two of you must look to outstanders.

And despite looking more than just out of place the second you step your foot through the front door, you know no one‘s going to make you feel uncomfortable simply because Jongseong won‘t let them.

As the owner and one of the best artists of the shop, everyone, including the regular customers, pretty much know about you. You don‘t know how Jay had managed it, but you also never bothered questioning it. After all he‘s the boss and you‘ve been with him even before he opened the now incredibly successful studio, so it just seems to make sense.

You approach the big glass door with a big smile and patiently wait for your boyfriend‘s best friend and fellow tattoo artist to see you.

“Damn, Y/N”, Jake chuckles and takes the bags with food from you, his lips stretched into a handsome grin as he gives you a quick hug, “I thought this would take you another hour, to be really honest. You‘re awesome, thank you, little one.”

You follow the blonde male to the big counter at the very right of the shop, your eyes quickly grazing over the dark lines on his arms, waiting for him to set the bags down before you shift your attention back to his handsome face.

“Jongie left the house without breakfast again and I hate it when he only has one meal a day so I was already on my way to that place when I texted you to ask the others for their orders”, you explain to him, a soft pout on your lips at the mention of your boyfriend‘s bad habit.

“That guy”, Jake sighs, taking a sip from his RedBull and shaking his head as he looks at you just as disappointed, “he loves to live off of cigarettes and if it wasn‘t for you, he‘d be a walking nicotine addiction.”

You chuckle and let your eyes roam the beautiful interior of the tattoo studio, your boyfriend‘s love for minimalism rather obvious in every little detail, starting from the furniture all up to the decorations.

“Oh, my God! Miss Y/N, I fucking love you”, the raspy yet excited sound of Yunjin’s voice makes you smile and with a small chuckle, you watch the blonde almost brutally push Jake away from the bags of food.

“Yours and Jihyo’s is in the bag with the napkins, Jen!”, you say and start giggling at the way she looks at you with literal love gleaming in her pretty eyes.

“How much was this, little one?”, Jaeyun asks and plops down on one of the big armchairs on the other side of the room before he pushes half of his cheeseburger into his mouth and takes a bite.

You furrow your brows at his question and roll your eyes before you ignore him, your gaze slowly wandering to the door of your boyfriend‘s workplace.

“I‘m going to rat you out to Jay, I literally don‘t give a fuck, Y/N”, Jake huffs and angrily continues to munch on his burger.

You just shrug his threat off, watch Jen take a seat next to her coworker with her mouth stuffed to the brim and yet a content smile on her lips.

The sudden sound of deep laughter manages to get your attention and at the realization that you only know two of the three voices, you curiously let your eyes wander to the hallway behind the counter.

Sunghoon and Jungwon are quick to spot you, both of them shooting you a genuine smile and a small wave as they listen to the tall brunette standing in between them.

You smile and wave back happily, trying your best not to stare at the stranger too much but for some reason your head is trying to make out his handsome features, as if you knew him from somewhere but couldn‘t pinpoint where exactly.

“But seriously, the girls over there are a whole new level when it comes to that and-”, the tall guy suddenly stops in his tracks, his cat-like eyes roaming your body shamelessly and for the first time in what feels like forever the feeling of slight discomfort overcomes you.

“And who is this pretty girl in the cute little dress?”, he says, nudging Sunghoon’s arm with his elbow as he never once averts his prying gaze from you.

In some kind of twisted way, you enjoy the way he so obviously seems to like what he sees but the disgusting feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine is what slowly drives you crazy.

You stare at your shoes like your whole life is depending on it; and nervously fumble with your fingers as you begin to regret your wardrobe choice yet again.

“Back off, Jaemin”, Jake grunts and suddenly gets onto his feet before he approaches you, “remember the doll Jay kept talking about? That‘s her. So you better not even think about it”, he adds and comes to stand right next to you, tattooed arms crossed in front of his chest as the two males stare at each other.

“Jaeyun”, the stranger cooes and breaks into a big smile, his astonishingly pretty features almost blinding you and if it wasn‘t for him running his inked hand through his thick hair, you would have stared at him for another good minute, “at least let me introduce myself to her, hm? I don‘t want her to think that I‘m impolite or rude.”

“It‘s okay”, you say and place your hand on Jake’s arm, smiling at him rather confidently to make sure he knows that you‘ve got this.

“There we go. I‘m Jaemin”, the stranger begins and holds up his hand, “Na Jaemin.”

And at the sound of his name, it finally clicks.

You can‘t even remember the amount of times you‘ve heard his name; the boys talking about him so much, you couldn‘t help but get curious as to who he is, yet never once having the chance to meet him in all those years of dating Jongseong .

Never once did he say anything negative about him despite the male’s annoying habit of natural pettiness and that‘s probably why you‘ve been so eager to give a face to the name. You definitely remember seeing pictures of him with the boys from High School since they were all somehow connected with each other through their sports clubs, which is why he probably seemed so familiar at the first glance.

And to say that you‘re positively surprised at the actual face would be an understatement.

“I‘m Y/N”, you say and shake his hand, gulping harshly as you try your best to maintain eye contact but feeling yourself fail miserably.

“No wonder grumpy Jong never stops talking about you when we go out for drinks”, Jaemin chuckles, a row of loud sighs coming from the boys and leaving you even more overwhelmed, “I wouldn’t shut the fuck up either if I had doll as pretty as you.”

“Back the fuck off, Jaemin”, Jungwon hisses and rolls his eyes, Sunghoon shooting you an apologetic smile since he knows – everyone knows – just how anxious you get when someone flirts with you, which you like to blame on your lack of experience with the opposite gender as well as your social anxiety.

“Oh, calm the fuck down, guys”, Jaemin laughs and tilts his head to the side, “you know I can‘t hold myself back when I see a pretty girl.”

“That‘s enough, Jaems”, the sudden resounding of your boyfriend‘s incredibly deep and slightly raspy voice calms you down in almost an instant; the familiarity and feeling of being absolutely safe puts you at ease just like that.

You turn around with a big smile on your face before you finally meet the gaze of your lover.

Without even thinking about it, you let your gaze roam over his broad shoulders and his strong torso, the fabric of his black shirt clinging to his skin in just the right places. You shamelessly ignore the customer right next to Jay as your eyes fall to his thick thighs; the smooth leather of his pants and the chains dangling from his belt just emphasizing the beauty of them even more.

Just when you finally come to look at his heavy boots, Jongseong starts speaking again; this time a lot less strict and rather relaxed.

“And again, if you‘re worried or anything like that, just give us a call or come to the studio and one of us will have a look at it, yeah?”, he says, his lips stretched into a genuine smile and you feel your chest growing warmer and warmer the longer you watch him.

Everyone says their goodbyes to the customer before the boys grab the other bags and go to join Jennifer on the couch.

You nervously wait for Jay to say anything; his eyes just strictly staring Jaemin down who easily holds the stare; not really caring about the intimidating aura of your boyfriend.

“Da- uhm I mean, Jay?”, you mumble and look at him with needy eyes, your whole body craving his presence but for some reason you‘re still a bit too shy to go up to him with everyone so close.

You softly grip his shirt, hoping to get his attention that way and as he continues to keep his focus on the tall guy, the heavier the feeling of disappointment fills your chest. The thought of him not being happy to see you upsets you a lot more than you would have expected it to.

“You‘re one of my dearest friends and I‘d do a lot for you but I will actually break your kneecaps if I have to. I have even less shame and decency than usual when it comes to my doll”, Jongseong mumbles, rubbing the sides of his pierced nose with his thumb before he runs his inked hand through his freshly dyed, black hair.

“Jay, it‘s okay-”

“Oh, come on, Jong”, Jaemin scoffs and raises one of his eyebrows at your boyfriend, making the tattoo artist tilt his chin even further up as his whole body tenses up in one go, “you know I can go even further, I‘m actually holding myself back because of you.”

“Stop it, you two”, the soft, calming and almost motherly voice of Jihyo, the other female tattoo artist of the studio, cuts through the tension in the right moment and with a soft sigh you let go of your boyfriend‘s shirt and look at her with a little smile.

“I‘m just fucking with you, J-”, “Don‘t. Not when it involves her”, Jay interrupts his friend, pressing the words through gritted teeth as he obviously tries to remain calm.

“Calm down, champ”, Jaemin spits back now as your boyfriend’s behavior obviously seems to irritate him, “we both know I would have fucked her already if I wanted to.”

“Have some respect, you piece of shit”, Jongseong suddenly yells and pushes the brunette away, the sudden action making you gasp in shock and an instant wave of discomfort overwhelm you.

You watch the two of them continue their now slightly physical argument with your heart pounding in your chest and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes the heavier the feeling of your anxiety becomes.

Thousands of thoughts rush through your mind, ideas on how to separate them by yourself and calm at least Jay down only to be quite quick to remember that he hadn‘t even spared you a simple look.

Jungwon and Sunghoon come to pull the two males away from each other; obviously used to their bickerings since they‘ve been friends for so long and even though you want to shrug it off and blame it on your boyfriend‘s short temper and protectiveness, you can‘t help but start crying at the sight of him so angry and upset.

You know it‘s not just because of you; after all it was Jaemin who pushed his buttons. However, you still feel responsible and guilty and in combination with the heaviness on your chest, you can’t hold yourself back anymore. Your body craving him, his presence, his touch and his reassurance in an unbearable way.

With shaky legs you walk up to him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nervously try to stop yourself from crying too hard.

“Daddy”, you whisper and look up at your boyfriend with teary eye. Jay furrows his brows even more before your voice finally seems to get through the heavy cloud of anger as he takes a deep breath and averts his gaze to meet yours.

It‘s the sight of your tears and the scared expression in your beautiful eyes which pull him back to reality completely.

“Baby”, he replies and takes your face into his inked, ring clad hands, his touch calming you down almost instantly.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your arms tightly wrapped around his strong waist as you let yourself enjoy the feeling of safety and security in his embrace.

“It‘s okay, baby”, Jay sighs and places a soft kiss on your temple before he looks at his friend and shakes his head in annoyance, “Daddy‘s got you. I didn‘t mean to scare you, I‘m sorry”, he continues, his eyes never once leaving Jaemin’s who seems to be slightly taken aback by the sudden usage of a word so forbidden yet so powerful.

“She calls him-”, “Yes.”, Jungwon quickly cuts his brunette friend off with an answer, knowing how weird it is to process information like that since he still quite vividly remembers the day he had heard you call Jay ‘daddy’ for the first time.

“I‘m sorry, Y/N”, Jaemin says, “I was being disrespectful and disgusting, I hope you can forgive me.”

You pull away from Jay and turn around to look at the handsome giant, a soft smile on your lips before you simply nod and quietly thank him for his apology.

“Jong-”, “It‘s fine, Nana”, your boyfriend sighs and lets out a tensed chuckle, “I tend to get extra protective and even less patient when someone talks about her”, he explains and lets his eyes roam over your face, enjoying the intensity of your love-filled gaze.

The atmosphere in the studio returns back to normal and comfortable rather quickly, everyone enjoying the joined lunch break while talking about random things.

As usual, you find yourself listening and talking to the girls a little more than to the boys, who are currently busy trying to figure out a bar to go to later and since you‘d rather not hear your boyfriend planning a night out without you, you put your whole focus on Jihyo and Jennifer.

It‘s not that you don‘t want him to have fun or go out with his boys but you know that usually those nights end with him coming home rather drunk and – or high at five in the morning and you can‘t help but get worried.

On top of that you like to get a tiny bit jealous, especially when Jongseong dresses up and goes out looking like a Goddamn runway model.

But the longer you watch the excitement in his eyes grow, the easier it is for you to just let every doubt and worried thought in your head go and be happy for him.

By the time everyone is done eating, the four males are ready to leave; Jaemin apologizes to you yet again before he gives you a soft hug and tells your boyfriend to treat you well.

Jihyo and Jen both welcome their last customers of the day, handing over the front of the shop to you just as usual before you and Jay finally get a bit of time to yourselves.

You can‘t deny just how impatiently you‘ve been waiting for this exact moment. For different reasons Jongie has been coming home a lot later than usual, which wouldn‘t have been a problem if he also didn‘t leave the house way earlier than on his regular days. However, with the new tattoo studio opening soon and him being the most requested artist, he‘s been extra busy and the two of you have barely gotten a minute to yourselves.

You can‘t even remember the last time you‘ve had breakfast with your boyfriend, despite living with him. It took you a lot to get used to him being away from home more, your anxiety using dark and mean thoughts as a weapon to keep you up at night even though you haven‘t been sleeping at all in the past few weeks.

“Thank you for bringing us lunch, baby”, Jay whispers and wraps his strong, tattoo covered arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I‘ll leave my card to you tomorrow so you can go and get yourself some nice things while I‘m at work, hm?”, he sighs and with an almost audible roll of your eyes you turn around to look at your boyfriend with your lips pressed into a straight line.

“I have my own money, Daddy”, you begin and let your fingers graze over the little metal in his brow as well as the ones on both sides of his nose, “and I keep telling you that you can‘t spend so much on me.”

Jongseong scoffs, tilting his head to the side before he pushes his hands underneath the fabric of your dress and shamelessly starts groping the soft flesh of your ass.

You let out a gasp and look at him with a pout on your lips, loving the way he pulls you even closer to his strong body and easily sends soft jolts of arousal straight into your cunt.

“But now that I actually have the money, I want to spoil you, baby”, he explains to you and is quick to lift you onto the counter, spreading your legs and coming to stand in between them, “let me give you the world.”

“I already have everything I need, Daddy”, you sigh and pull him into a quick, sloppy kiss; the taste of cigarettes and mint quickly capturing your taste buds and making you hum against his lips.

“You‘re so cheesy, baby”, he chuckles; the sound making your smile grow even bigger and it‘s the way the soft brown of his eyes is filled with nothing but love and affection that has you gasping softly.

“But seriously”, Jay mumbles and nudges your nose with his as his eyes flutter shut, “with the new studio opening next month and the new deals settling in, I can finally offer you the life you deserve, my love. Please, let me.”

“No”, you smile and shake your head softly, chuckling at the way your boyfriend dramatically throws his head back with a groan.

“You‘re a hopeless case when it comes to this”, he grunts and sits down on the little chair behind the counter, pushing himself to find his position in between your legs again.

“How is it healing, baby?”, Jongie suddenly says, pushing your thighs even further apart to reveal your clothed cunt to his curious eyes before he lets his fingers graze over the dark lines of your new tattoo.

You shudder at the feeling of him so close to where you‘ve been craving him the whole day.

“I don‘t know”, you whimper and cringe at the feeling of your arousal gushing out of your clenching pussy right into the fabric of your panties, “y-you tell me.”

Jay smirks at your reaction, his eyes roaming the number ‘20’ engraved into the skin at the very top of your inner thigh before a calming jolt of warmth finds its way through his veins at the memory how you had asked him to give you your first tattoo and the meaning behind it.

The smell of your arousal and your squirming easily manages to distract the tattoo artist and you whimper softly when he suddenly presses his face into your clothed cunt.

“Fuck, baby”, Jay groans and pulls your legs over his broad shoulders, “I want to eat this pretty pussy right now, right here. You‘re so fucking ready for me, I don‘t think I can wait any longer.”

“Y-You have two more customers– one of them coming in a few minutes, Daddy”, you whine and pull his face even closer into your pussy.

“Let me just get a quick taste, princess”, he grunts, pulling your panties to the side and revealing your drenched cunt to his hungry eyes, “after all this pussy is mine anyway and I‘m just taking what rightfully belongs to me”, his deep, raspy voice sends vibrations through your body, eliciting another row of moans from you.

Jongseong doesn‘t even hesitate as he pushes his tongue into your tight hole, lapping up every bit of your juices to make sure nothing goes to waste. You subconsciously start moving your hips to meet the movements of his hot muscle, the pleasure easily clouding your mind and leaving you craving for more.

“F-Fuck!”, you whimper and try your best to keep your sounds down, which is basically impossible because of the way he’s fucking you with his strong tongue.

“My baby has the sweetest pussy, f-fuck”, Jay groans into your folds, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as your essence coats his tongue and pushes him deeper and deeper into the haze of his own arousal.

“Daddy, please…”, you beg, not knowing if you‘re asking him to stop or keep going because of the way you slowly but surely are losing yourself in the delicious feeling of pure pleasure.

Jong pulls his head away with a soft moan before he lets a thick drop of spit fall right onto your hot flesh at the same time he pushes one of his fingers into your spasming cunt.

You arch your back, desperately looking for a way to hold onto something, your grip on the edge of the counter painfully tight before your hands find home in his thick hair.

Jay slowly starts thrusting his finger into you, making sure to hit the right spot as he sucks your clit into his mouth and takes in the sound of your little whimpers and high pitched moans.

“I‘m c-cumming…”, you whisper into the air and throw your head back, “s-so close, Daddy.”

You feel your relief creep up your spine, the taste thickly coating the inside of your mouth, you know you only need another thrust of his fingers and the tiniest bit of pressure against your throbbing clit to fall over the edge.

However, as if he had it all planned out, the loud ringing of Jay's phone brutally pulls you out of your lust-filled haze; the sudden lack of any form of stimulation and penetration leaves you completely breathless.

You gasp for air like crazy, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes the more your cunt clenches around nothing and for a good second, a thick black veil falls over your eyes as your body struggles to handle the denial of relief.

“Alright, buddy”, Jay says and pushes his slick coated finger into his mouth, his eyes roaming your helpless form with pure amusement whereas all you do is sob in despair.

You slowly start calming down again, your cries dying down and your body finally finding its balance again after falling into emptiness just like that.

Once you’re all okay again, you get down from the counter, your legs still shaky as you adjust your panties and your little dress before you try to make yourself look a little bit more presentable again.

By the time you‘re not shaking anymore, Jay’s next customer enters the shop; the tall guy‘s face hidden behind a black face mask, soft, black curls falling into his handsome face as he comes to stand in front of the counter.

You shoot him a soft smile, welcoming him calmly and offering him some of the hand sanitizer you like to keep in one of the drawers, which he accepts with literal relief gleaming in his eyes and words of appreciation leaving his lips.

“Hey, Seung”, Jay greets the tall male, nodding at him while trying to stay focused on the things the person on his phone is saying.

The following three hours pass by rather quickly. A couple of customers coming to get new appointments with one of the boys, as well as a few either canceling or postponing the ones they‘ve already had and by the time the last one of the day enters your boyfriend‘s studio, everyone else has left already and you try to kill some time by cleaning up and watching a few videos on Youtube.

Your boyfriend makes sure to give you a quick visit to check if everything‘s fine; a habit he‘s come to develop after some random guys had tried too hard when they realized that you were all alone in the studio a few months ago.

However, nothing like that had happened again after that day and you‘ve been trying to get your boyfriend to be a little more relaxed whenever you took over for the girls.

But you can‘t deny that you‘ve been feeling a little bit more nervous.

After he sends his last customer away, Jay gets comfortable on one of the big chairs, positioning himself right behind you to watch every single one of your movements with hungry eyes.

You love the way you can feel his gaze dripping in arousal and want, the intensity something you‘ve grown oh so used to and have always been obsessed with.

No one has ever made you feel as beautiful and loved as Park Jongseong and that‘s something you won‘t ever take for granted.

However, despite his hungry eyes basically devouring you alive, you still manage to focus on putting all the appointments on the little post-its into the digital as well as the normal calendar, not wanting to fuck up anything.

“Baby”, he suddenly sighs, one of his big, ring clad hands grabbing your thigh before he lets it wander to your waist, “enough of that, want you to come and sit on my cock, please.”

And just like that, you gulp at his words; your whole body slowly starts to heat up the more you think about his delicious request.

“I’ve missed you so much, pretty girl”, Jay continues, pushing his hand underneath your dress for the nth time today before he hooks his thumb into the waistband of your panties and casually pulls the fabric down your legs, “couldn’t stop thinking about you and your perfect pussy, especially after I got to taste you earlier today.”

“P-Please, Daddy”, you choke out, throwing your head back while grinding your cunt against the hard bulge in his leather pants, “need you to fill me up. Want your cum inside of me”, the words leave your lips just like that and even though you’re still consciously present, you’re already way too deep in your heavy haze of pleasure to properly register anything.

“Anything for my pretty girl”, he grunts, taking your chin into his tattooed hands before he pulls it down, making you part your lips and casually letting a thick drop of his spit fall onto your tongue.

As soon as the taste of his saliva coats the hot muscle in your mouth, you grind your cunt even harder against his clothed cock, a high pitched moan falling past your lips.

“So needy for Daddy’s cum, angel girl”, Jay chuckles and leans back to take in just how desperate you seem to be for him and his touch; something he won’t ever get tired of.

You know he’s mocking you, the shit eating grin on his pretty lips and amusement sparkling in the darkness of his eyes giving it away rather easily, yet you still can’t get yourself to be a little less subtle about your arousal.

“No teasing, Daddy”, you pout and look at him with big eyes, your cunt clenching like crazy as your relief slowly but surely climbs up your spine, “been so good for you after all.”

Jong lets out a loud chuckle at your words, the sound making you whimper even louder before you pout harder at him, yet your hips never once halting their movements.

“Don’t fuck with me, angel”, he suddenly hisses and digs his painted nails into the soft skin of your ass, making sure you’re not able to grind even further against him and basically taking away your high from you for the second time today, “no matter how good you’ve been, if I don’t like your behavior, you’re not getting D-D-Daddy’s cock or his cum, you know that”, the mocking of your little stutters has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you look at him, whispering a soft response of approval.

“But I am going to reward you for being such a good little slut for your Daddy”, Jay sighs and pulls the top of your little dress down to expose your tits to his hungry eyes, “gonna let you choose the position but if you fuck around, I’m gonna put the tip in and cum inside of you without fucking your little hole, understood?”

You’re quick to start nodding like your life’s depending on it, excitement mixing with pleasure inside your veins as you try your best to stay composed.

“Good girl”, your boyfriend grunts with a playful smile on his lips and you know he’s not done teasing you just yet but unfortunately you’re way too far gone to even care; the thought of having his cock fill you up to the brim just how you’ve been craving it, the only thing on your mind.

“From behind, please”, you say, trying your best not to look away yet failing when the last word falls past your lips, “want you to fuck me from behind.”

“Look at my pretty little whore, using her words for me like a big girl”, Jay praises you, followed by a firm spank on your left ass cheek which sends the sweetest jolt of pain through your body and right into your cunt.

“M-More, Daddy, please”, you beg, your body literally craving the mixture of pain and pleasure in a way you simply cannot put into words.

“Sometimes, when you stutter and squirm and whine the way you do, I forget what a cockhungry little slut you are, do you know that?”, he presses through gritted teeth, wrapping his big hand around your throat just when he lands another harsh slap on your skin.

“But then you ask to have your cunt fucked from behind and stuffed full of cum or your cute little ass spanked and I remember just how much of a fucking whore you actually are”, you listen to his words attentively, but the light lack of oxygen makes your head spinning and focusing on him a lot more difficult than expected.

“Only for you, Daddy”, you whisper breathlessly, “only want you to fuck and stuff my pussy, I promise.”

“I sure fucking hope you do, pretty girl”, Jay’s response is harsh and doesn't leave any room for arguments, his strong gaze reflecting his natural possessiveness in response to your words, “because that fucking cunt belongs to me and me only.”

He doesn’t give you the time to respond, pushing you from his lap before he tells you to get into the position you had asked for.

You’re quick to obey his order; the thought of finally feeling him inside of you again overwhelming you in the sweetest way possible.

It’s not like Jongseong hasn’t been fucking you the past few weeks, despite his busy schedule; but for the first time in a while, you don’t have to rush things and you can’t help but get excited.

However, as soon as you get rid of your dress and put yourself back into your original position on all fours, you hear the clicking of his tongue, followed by a deep chuckle which easily sends another jolt of arousal straight through your veins.

“Aren’t you a little too eager to have your cunt stuffed, little one?”, the artist grunts, followed by the delicious sound of his belt being unbuckled and shortly afterwards his chains and pants hitting the cold floor.

“Been waiting all day, Daddy”, you reply softly, your thighs shaking slightly and the feeling of your juices slowly running down your inner thigh becoming uncomfortable the more you start clenching around nothing like crazy.

“I know, baby”, you hear him chuckle coldly, his big, ring clad hand feeling like ice cubes against your heated body as he softly starts groping your ass with his palms, “my cock and cum are all you think about after all, am I right? You sit at home, thinking about getting your little whore-hole ruined all day long, hm?”

You know he’s expecting an answer and you want to give him just that, but the harsh sting from an unexpected spank on your sensitive ass followed by the breathtaking feeling of his tip grazing your spasming hole makes it impossible for you to respond.

“F-Fuck, Daddy…”, you whisper breathlessly, burying your face in your arm and whining when he slowly pushes a little of his tip in, “need you so badly, please just fuck me”, you’re not really sure if he can hear your muffled words but you mumble them regardlessly in hopes of finally getting what you’ve been waiting for.

“Cut the fucking whining, angel girl.” Jong lands another hard spank on your sore ass cheek, the sting making your cunt clench even harder around his sensitive tip and you feel your heart picking up its pace at the sound of his deep groan.

“I’m s-sorry, Daddy..”, you reply, your voice hoarse and still barely audible but no matter how hard you try, the feeling of his tip stretching you out has clouded your brain with a thick haze of want and the disgusting need to feel more.

“You’re s-s-sorry, huh? If you’re that fucking sorry then why is your sloppy little cunt clenching like that, princess?”, Jong presses through gritted teeth, his thick fingers find their way around your throat before he pulls you flush against his chest.

And at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you, a row of whimpers and whines falls past your lips; your body craving the feeling of being filled without even getting a proper taste.

Jongseong, however, can’t help but chuckle at you.

The vibrations of his chest and the comforting yet humiliating sound of his laughter has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and as you wrap your fingers around his tattooed wrist, you subconsciously start moving your hips in hopes of getting some kind of stimulation.

“I asked you a fucking question, you desperate cockwhore”, Jay spits, tigheting his grip around your throat before he lifts his other hand and harshly spanks your sopping wet cunt; the metal of his rings hitting your clit in just the right way.

The delicious combination of pain and pleasure elicit a loud sob from you, the first few tears finding their way down your cheeks.

“And now you’re crying? Oh, goodness-”, he scoffs, rolling his eyes and letting you go to watch you fall back onto the couch, burying your face in one of the pillows.

“D-Daddy..”, you manage to lift your head up, sobbing and whimpering when you finally realize the lack of his touch, “please, fuck me. I’m n-nothing but a stupid little whore for you.”

You can sense his next move coming, you can see the way he lifts his arm from the corner of your eye, yet the second Jay's big palm meets the sore skin of your ass, you still can’t prepare your body for the beautiful pain it comes with.

A loud mewl leaves your lips, your hands gripping the pillow underneath you even tighter as your cunt spasms in response to the pain you’re so familiar with.

“You’re such a fucking crybaby”, Jay replies, his voice even deeper than before, building a bittersweet contrast to the way he’s caressing your burning skin oh so softly, “you know what I do to slutty little crybabies, don’t you, baby?”

And suddenly, at his words, you feel a cold shiver run down your spine and without even missing a beat, you get yourself to stand on your knees, trying your best to look back at him with tears blurring your sight.

“No-”, you whimper, your heart thrumming in your throat when you turn around and take the soft fabric of Jay’s shirt into your fists, “no, no, no, no- please, Daddy- I want more than the tip. I promise I’m gonna be a good girl- gonna stop being a crybaby”, you don’t really know what you’re saying, the thought of being denied takes up every bit of your rational thinking.

You look up at Jongseong with big, tear filled eyes, your breath hitching in your throat as you try your best to stay composed and be good for him but as soon as his pretty lips stretch into a teasing smirk, you can’t help but let out another sob because you know what’s about to happen.

“God, you’re so fucking pathetic, did you know that?”, without missing another moment, you start nodding, your cunt spadming in despair every single time his cock twitches right against your tummy.

Jong’s sudden grip on your face has you gasping for air, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, “you love being treated like this, don’t you? You love it when your precious, precious D-Daddy plays with you like the fucking toy you are, don’t you?”, you struggle to comprehend every single one of his degrading words but just the tone of derogatory in his deep voice pushes you deeper into the sweet haze of submission.

You look up at him, the sudden urge to get the familiar sense of reassurance from his pretty eyes overwhelming you and as soon as his gaze finds yours, you smile softly when you’re met with just what you were longing for.

His soft eyes are still filled with the same warmth and love you’re oh so used to and you feel yourself calming down even further, despite all the mean things he’s been saying to you.

“Mhm”, you hum and feel your lids grow heavier, “of course I love being treated like this, Daddy. You always fuck me so well- how could I not?”, your reply is calm and from the way you’re looking at him, Jay can tell that he’s got you right where he wanted you.

“Oh? So you do remember how to use your manners, baby? That’s good because I really wasn’t feeling like fucking some into your bratty brain”, he grunts and rubs his cock against your cunt, making sure to not touch your little clit at all before he moves to position himself in between your thighs.

“Spit”, is the only thing you manage to reply with as your brain only comprehends the way your boyfriend runs his tongue over his plump lips, a sheer layer of saliva coating the skin in the most alluring way possible, “please, Daddy- want it so bad.”

Jay cocks his head to the side, stilling the subtle movements of his hips before he tightens his grip on your chin again, pulling you even closer to his handsome, flushed face.

“At least you’re asking properly for it now”, he growls, his dark eyes attentively roaming your fucked out expression, “but this is the last thing you’re gonna get, princess. It’s not like you’ve been anything but a needy little crybaby to deserve any more than this.”

His words echo in your head and you feel your juices ooze out of your sensitive cunt, sending shivers down your spine before you mumble a quick response of gratitude and part your lips in anticipation.

You whimper almost instantly at the way his saliva coats the hot muscle yet again, your lids fluttering shut and just when you’re about to close your mouth, he lets another thick drop of spit fall right onto the back of your tongue.

He doesn’t give you a second to swallow properly, just eagerly pulling you into a sloppy kiss, groaning and moaning into your mouth like a man gone mad.

“Enough of this”, Jay suddenly growls, running a tattoo clad hand through his messy curls as he pulls away, “turn around and get on all fours, now. If you make me wait any longer you won’t get a drop of my cum- got it?”

You’re quick to obey, nodding at his words, doing as you’re told and getting into your original position from earlier with your cunt spasming in excitement.

“Please, D-Daddy”, you whimper and bury your face in the pillow, your whole body tensing up at the feeling of his leaking tip lining up with your entrance, “fuck your baby into my belly- I need it so bad.”

Those are the words which elicit the deepest, almost animalistic groan from Jay as the thought of stuffing you with his cum to the point where it’s impossible for you to not be pregnant cloud his brain.

“Fuck, baby”, he moans and slowly pushes into your tiny cunt; the stretch from his impressive size, especially in girth, should be something you’re already used to yet you still find yourself gasping for air before he’s even halfway inside of you.

You don’t even realize how close you are until you feel Jay grazing your sweetest spot deep inside of you for just a mere second and that’s the moment you start begging.

Usually he loves to hear you beg; his only goal is to have you a sobbing, begging and cum stuffed little mess on most nights.

But not this time.

He simply ignores the row of begs and pleas falling past your lips like a goddamn mantra; the feeling of your tight walls gripping his hard cock in just the right way easily becomes the only thing on his mind.

Jay doesn’t give you time to adjust to his size; not when you’re both this worked up because he knows you can take that little sting and the pinches of pain from your pussy being stretched out. He makes sure to set a fast, merciless rhythm from the very beginning; pulling his cock all the way out of your tiny hole just to quickly ram it all the way back inside with one thrust. The emptiness of the studio is filled with the lewd noises of skin meeting skin, deep grunts and muffled whimpers as well as a few sobbed out pleas every now and it doesn’t take long for either of you to get drunk on the atmosphere those exact noises seemed to create.

“There you fucking go, pretty girl”, your boyfriend groans, burying his cock deeper and harder into your sensitive hole, shoving your face even further into the pillow with each thrust and easily pushing as close to the edge as possible.

“I’m gonna stuff you full of my fucking cum”, he continues when all you manage to respond with are a bunch of sobs and high pitched, muffled moans, “gotta make sure you are nicely bred, right?”

You start nodding like crazy before Jongie easily manhandles you, lifting you up to have you flush against his chest yet again, his thrusts never once slowing down as he buries his teeth in the sensitive skin of your neck and tightens his grip on the flesh of your hips.

You feel yourself getting closer with every second passing by, your clit throbbing as you lose yourself in the delicious feeling of being stuffed so, so full by the one you love oh so much and you know he’s just as close as you are. His sloppy thrusts, heavy breathing and increasing moans giving him away just as usual.

“Daddy”, you sob, tears streaming down your spit and drool stained face, leaving a burning trail behind as they find their way down your neck, “so close – fuck – please...make me cum. I need it so bad-”, your words are slurred, barely coherent and you have no idea if you even said or just thought them but once your boyfriend wraps his pretty, ring and tattoo clad hand around your neck while the other one moves in between your legs to rub your clit, you know he understood every single one of them.

“Come on then, angel”, he presses through gritted teeth, tightening his grip around your throat to make you gasp for air as the pleasure slowly becomes overwhelming right when you’re about to cum.“I want you to cum all over my cock so I can fill you up. And since we both want the whole world to see who the fuck you belong to I have make sure you’re pregnant by the time I’m done with you, right baby?”

“Yes, D-Daddy... mhm, yes yes yes-”, your whimpers grow louder and louder every time Jay hits your sweet spot with his big cock, the tip grazing the entrance to your womb in the best way possible.

“That’s my good...fuck-”, he groans in response, not able to finish his praise.

And just when you’re about to cum, he tightens his grip on your waist, his fingers rubbing harsh circles into your clit and pushing his cock as deep as possible into your tight cunt with one last, sloppy yet hard thrust before the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you finally pushes you over the edge.

The waves of your high break down onto you in the best yet most suffocating way possible and if it wasn’t for Jay’s perfect timing, you would have passed out from being overwhelmed like this. For a good second everything around you disappears in a complete blur and you feel yourself getting more and more lightheaded; your cunt clenching and creaming around your boyfriend’s cock as you start sobbing even harder.

You have no idea what either of you are saying; Jay’s praises and words of encouragement as well as reassurance passing by without your brain getting a single chance to proceed the meaning of them yet you still manage to snap back into reality right when he cums inside of your tight cunt with a row of loud moans falling past his lips.

He buries his face in your neck, lazily thrusting his cock into you to make sure not one drop of his precious cum goes to waste and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling of being stuffed to the brim.

You have no idea how much time passes; both of you way too busy to calm down and catch your breaths, Jongie firmly holding you in his arms and keeping his cock buried inside of your tight cunt because he doesn’t want to make a mess.

The last thing he wants or needs is another lecture from Jen about why fucking in the studio is a no-go.

“Baby”, he suddenly whispers, his voice still raspy and hoarse, “wanna get dressed and cleaned so we can head home? Wanna spoil my pretty girl with a nice bath, some wine and movies?”

You can’t even giggle as the exhaustion takes over every bit of your being, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips before you let out a hum of approval, placing a sweet kiss on his palm.

“You can take a nap while I bathe you but I wanna fuck you all night, baby...feels like I haven’t stuffed you in weeks”, Jongseong casually adds and lets go of your upper body, gently helping you to lay on the couch again; his big hands constantly caressing the sore skin of your ass.

“Don’t pull out..”, you whimper, not quite ready to feel empty just yet, “let’s stay like this for a little longer, please.”

“My good girl…”, Jay sighs softly, his eyes attentively roaming over your fucked out figure, focusing the way your lips are pushed into a pout, “how about this: I’m gonna pull out now and then I’ll have you cockwarm me all night, hm? Wanna take you home, pretty girl. ’s way cozier anyway.”

“But-”

However – you don’t get to finish that sentence.

The loud knocks on the front door of the shop easily startling the both of you, Jay almost automatically digging his nails into your ass as his head shoots to look at whoever the hell is trying to come inside at this time of the day.

“Jong? Y/N? Are you guys- Oh, my God”, as soon as the sound of Jake Sim’s voice finds your ears, you both let out a loud groan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head before you chuckle at just how dramatic he’s being.

Jay doesn’t immediately reply to his best friend, his hands gently caressing your ass before he lets you know that he’s about to pull out, eliciting a row of hisses from the two of you as he does just that.

He’s quick to turn you on your back, pulling you into a deep kiss and then getting himself dressed again.

You hear Jake’s ranting from outside, two more voices joining in not long after and it doesn’t take you long to figure out that Sunghoon and Jungwon are with him too.

“Park Jongseong, open the fucking-”, “Shut the fuck up, I gotta get her dressed, you piece of human garbage”, your boyfriend eventully spits back at his best friend, quickly growing tired of his whining.

You don’t really know how long it takes Jay to put you back into your little panties and your dress, your head still cloudy and eyes feeling extra heavy from exhaustion.

The next thing you know is a soft kiss on your forehead, followed by the sound of keys turning in a door and loud, deep voices filling the emptiness of the studio.

“You did it on the...couch? First the counter, then the bathroom, then the office and now the couch? I fucking hate you two”, Sunghoon’s gentle voice is filled with a mixture of disgust, mockery and humor yet easily gives away that he’s not fully serious.

“What the fuck do you guys want?”, Jay just replies, rolling his eyes at the sight of Jake putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in disappointment.

“I forgot my phone in the office and we were gonna have drinks at the bar around the corner”, Jungwon explains calmly, his eyes finding your fucked out figure on the couch before he chuckles and winks at you before looking back at Jay.

“Great job, Ace”, he chuckles deeply before giving your boyfriend a quick fistbump only to have Jake interrupt them.

“I will tell Jihyo everything, I don’t give a fuck. You deserve her lectures-”, he says and eventually averts his strong gaze from Jay to you.

“Finally”, the blonde groans and lifts his hand to give you a high five before he runs his tattoo clad fingers through his hair, “you’ve been getting way too desperate, best friend. You really needed this.”

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