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dontfeeltoohot · 2 years

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Whumptober 2nd - Nowhere to Run (Cornered) - Rockstar AU - Eddie TW: Mild Violence, Illusions to Cheating (Eddie's ex, not Eddie himself), Reference of Chrissy's death.

I forget that I haven't finished the actual (non-snz/whump) version of the rockstar AU. Quick backstory- Chrissy and Eddie were best friends. They had an apartment in Portland together. One night they were in a car accident and she died on impact, so at her funeral he got handsy with some paparazzi. Also he had an ex of 8 years who cheated on him a year prior to this fic.

They don’t play a lot of shows all one right after the other. Their usual limit is 3 before needing a day to rest, sometimes it happens to be 2 depending on where their next show is. 4 shows is pushing it for everyone, which is why, on their 4th day in a row, Eddie’s starting to feel worn thin and run down.

He loves performing, loves it more than anything else in the world, but the music they play is taxing on his vocal chords and every show depletes his energy. By now they should have had at least one day off if not two, but instead they’ve done Rochester, Philly, Richmond, Columbus, and now, they’re in Indianapolis. They’ll be here for two days, finally getting a day of rest before playing the Gainbridge Fieldhouse.

As they pull up to their hotel; thank god they get a hotel for the night instead of sleeping in the tour bus, Eddie can already see a few fans waiting outside. They don’t do hotels often just for this reason, but even Chelsea (their manager), had agreed that after the amount of shows they’d played everyone needed a real bed. The twenty six year old thinks maybe it’s just pure selfish want from the woman, but he’s not going to complain, a bed sounds like the closest thing to heaven he can get right now.

Rubbing his face, he watches as Jeff, Tim and Gareth all stand too, Chelsea still in the back of the bus, in the room they’d given her since she was the only female. Their bunks are on either side of the bus, built into the walls. Eddie’s is the top, on the right, Gareth underneath him, while Tim and Jeff mirror them on the left side. Playing with his rings as he waits for Tim to open the door, the curly haired man grabs his phone out of his pocket and pulls up Twitter

Scrolling through, he busies himself with reading through some article reviewing their concert. The door opens and the boys shuffle out, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Eddie slides his phone into his back pocket, smiling at the few people around as they make their way to the front of the Conrad Hotel.

“Damn, we haven’t been here before have we?” Jeff asks as they get closer to the door. It’s big and beautiful and obviously where the visiting celebrities and musicians stay.

“Don’t think so,” Gareth shakes his head, smiling at the fans. “We went to Fort Wayne last time I’m pretty sure.”

This isn’t their first big tour, or even their second. It’s their third in the states, and they’ve done a smaller European tour as well.

Tim nods in agreement. “Yep, last time was Fort Wayne, and before that we skipped Indiana,” the bassist recalls.

Eddie only half listens to the others, eyes moving around the handful of fans. There’s an age range that the guitarist enjoys to see, ranging from probably around 6 years old all the way to what he guesses is mid to late 60’s. Metal music is harder to come by now, even hard rock, and it’s hard to make it big, big like Metallica or Judas Priest or Dio did back in the day. Yet somehow, Corroded Coffin has managed to rival Slipknot and Rammstein.

Bending down, curls falling in his face, Eddie brushes them away and looks at the youngest kid there, who’s suddenly looking shocked and excited.

“Hey kid, what’s your name?” His voice is wrecked from the past four back to back shows but he ignores it, merely clearing his throat as the little boy beams, looking only a little nervous.

“A-Anthony.”

“Sick name,” Eddie grins, smiling at who he assumes is the kid's dad next to him. Pulling out two pieces of plastic from his leather jacket pocket, he hands them to the boy.

“These are for you, but you gotta hold onto’em real tight okay? Tomorrow, show up early to the show, and my friend Chelsea will bring you back along with a few other people. We can take photos and talk and stuff,” he explains.

Watching, Eddie stands back up and looks at the man, as the boy bounces up and down on his feet. “Those are some VIP passes. We only give out about 30. Come at 4 to the ticket center at the arena and they’ll direct you.”

“You guys are great, thank you so much. He’s been raised on your music.”

“It’s no problem man. I’ll see you tomorrow Tony.” He bends back down to hug the little boy, who whispers a ‘thank you’ to him.

Turning back around, he says hi to the others that Jeff, Tim and Gareth have already talked to, before finally following Chelsea; the lone survivor of his fan-time, into the hotel.

“You’re too sweet,” she smirks at him, which makes Eddie shrug, yawning.

“If Kirk Hammet or Lemmy or Rob Halford had come up to me at 6 and given me a VIP pass I probably would have peed my pants man. I wanna make sure this young generation still enjoys us, ya know?”

Chelsea hands him a key card and clicks an elevator button. “Like I said, too sweet. The other guys are in the rooms by now I’m sure. We need to get you tea or something, your voice sounds like shit.”

They ride up to the third floor, one that’s only accessible if you have the special key card, and get off, heading down three doors on their right. The place is massive, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at her as they step in.

“It was the only one they’d let us get, since it was on a private floor. I know it’s excessive,” the blonde shrugs it off. “Also the only one with three bedrooms.”

Exploring, Eddie finds Gareth in the bedroom closest to the kitchen area, sprawled out on one of the two beds.

“You’re in here with me. Jeff and Tim are in the other one on this side,” he mumbles, barely awake.

“Cool.”

It’s no secret that while all of them are incredibly close, they also have the person they’re closer to, just like any other friend group. Eddie and Gareth have grown up together since they were kids in the trailer park, going to the same school since third grade. Jeff joined the friend group in sixth grade, and by eighth grade Tim was the last person to complete both their group and Corroded Coffin.

“You okay? Your voice is-“

“Like it’s gone through a garbage disposal, I know. Chels said about as much. Just need to drink water and not talk much today.”

“Lord help us all, you not talking is basically impossible.”

Just to prove him wrong, he gives Gareth the finger, silent as he sets his bag down and sits on his bed, sighing. He can feel exhaustion permeating his bones, and knowing that it’s already late and they have an early as hell morning , he lays down on the bed and slowly copies his friend, drifting off to sleep.

XXX

It’s 8:23 AM, and Eddie’s tired, as they pull up to the large arena, coffee already wearing off. The other three are all talking about how the show is sold out, but he’s barely paying attention, as the van is driven around to the back doors. Most of their crew is already there, have been since the wee hours of the morning working on setting up their pyrotechnics and lights. Grabbing his backpack and guitar case, he hops out and starts making his way inside, not keen on getting drenched when it’s already cold.

The arena holds 20,000 people, and the show is sold out. It’s not their absolute biggest venue, but it’s close. One of the managers for…something comes up to them all, greeting them and showing them down a long hallway. Walking down a flight of stairs, the group then gets taken to a room with a long vanity that covers an entire wall, mirrors above it. There’s a couple of couches and chairs, as well as some of the food they always request- peanut m&m’s, popcorn, a couple of packs of water. The manager leaves after talking to them a bit about the schedule, and Eddie flops onto one side of a couch, Jeff taking the other. Playfully, the eldest flings a leg over Jeff’s, scooting closer, though he doesn’t react. They all know Eddie’s tactile and likes to be in close proximity to anyone he can.

“Okay, so we have some posters you guys need to sign while Greg and his team set up everyone’s stuff, and then we’ll head up to run through checks.” The guys all nod in understanding, while Jake starts getting his camera out.

Sound check, as always, is a slow and arduous task. Going through Gareth’s shit alone just for the man himself takes half an hour, so Eddie and Tim play on their skateboards while a high hat rings out over and over and over. It only takes five or so minutes for the rest of them to get themselves in their in-ears and patched into the mainframe, then they go through the whole band, letting each other's mixes get tweaked from the last arena. Eddie’s bright red in ears match the Warlock he’s holding, his pride and joy.

As they work through everything, Eddie can feel the headache, the one he’s had for the last few days, pulsing dimly, like it’s waiting for the best time to strike. He’s not told anyone about them, not really. Hasn’t told them that for the past week he’s had more time with one than without, and that it’s making him lose sleep, feel groggy and at times irritable. The lights shining down on them hit Eddie’s eyes and he winces. When they get the ok that they’re done, the musician jumps off the stage and finds Zack, shoving his hands in his leather jackets pockets. He’s got a hoodie on underneath, keeping him warm in the cold arena.

“Hey man, mind if I go take a quick smoke break?”

“Sure, if you do it right outside the back doors I’ll leave you alone.”

Eddie beams. It’s rare he gets to do anything without Zack these days, not since a girl had tried to get all over him during a song when he’d been out in the crowd last tour, along with a few other random encounters. Taking the opportunity, the long haired man heads to the back doors where it’s secluded, and opens one, checking to make sure it’s unlocked.

It’s still pouring rain, but there’s enough of an overhang from the roof that Eddie can step outside and light his cigarette with no problems. He stands there for a few minutes, enjoying the peace, the quiet without drums or the others joking around loudly. A noise catches him off guard, and he stiffens when he sees two guys wearing Corroded Coffin merch standing there, taking photos. He tries to ignore them at first, used to them by now, but then they get closer, and he gives them a tight smile.

“Hey guys, I’d really appreciate it if you'd let me have my space.”

“We’re not doing anything, we just wanted to talk, not like we’d ever get the chance again.”

Eddie swallows, smoke drifting past him.

“Yeah, I completely understand, but I’m looking to be alone right now. If you guys want something, I’ll be happy to give it, but I only get a few minutes out here.”

“We’re not looking for anything, we just wanted to talk to you, ask you questions.”

“I got that,” Eddie stubs out his cigarette and sets his jaw. “But I also explained I’d like to be alone, and not be around other people. I can autograph something for you, or we can get a photo, but that’s about it.”

The taller guy rolls his eyes, and the other scoffs.

“Come on man, we just have some questions. We’re not trying to be dicks. We’ll leave you alone after.”

Eddie goes to move, to go back into the venue, but the tall one shifts, blocking the door, and the blonde guy steps closer. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Alright, listen assholes, there’s a time and a place for this shit, and I’m not in the mood to play this game with you. Move.”

“He wants us to move,” the blonde laughed.

“What the fuck is your problem man?”

“Everyone says Jeremy cheated on you, but we know the truth. We know you cheated on him with that blonde little bitch.”

The world tilts at the name- Jeremy, his ex, the one that cheated on him. Then it registers the other person they’ve brought into the equation. Chrissy. Chrissy, his best friend, who’s dead because of the car accident they were in. A phantom pain shoots through his wrist, the one that had been broken from it. He’s unaware that other people, fans presumably, have somehow managed to see them, that people are watching, recording. A few people are making their way to them.

“You don’t know shit! Fucking move!”

Eddie tries to move past them, and then he’s being pushed against the brick building, wincing as his head collides with it.

“Look, he’s scared.”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Eddie yells and tries to shift when the taller one pins him where he is. The blonde gets in one one good punch to the musician's jaw, causing his head to bounce off the bricks again with a crack. Pain explodes everywhere, and as Eddie blinks, he feels his brain slow, feels time go hazy. One second he’s staring at the man, and the next he’s getting him pulled off.

A few guys who have Corroded Coffin shirts on are suddenly there, yanking the offenders off of him. One opens the back door and Eddie slips inside, all but slamming into Zack, who looks almost crazed, and moves past him, out the door. Yelling starts and Eddie blinks. Gareth, Jeff, Tim and Chelsea are there, Jake’s on the phone.

“Holy shit dude are you okay?”

“People started yelling-”

“Twitter went fucking crazy, kept telling us to find you-”

“Never seen Zack run so fast in my lif-”

“Eddie, honey, are you okay?”

Eddie swallows and nods mechanically, his head giving a throb where it collided with the brick wall. His jaw feels tight and sore. Wrapping his arms around himself, he lets out a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. He’s okay, he’s fine. He got manhandled by two jerks who obviously didn’t know shit.

“I’m fine.”

“No fuckin’ way-”

“Bro, I probably would have shit my pants if-”

“Don’t give us that shit Eddie-”

“I’m fucking fine! Just leave it okay? It’s over.”

“They fucking touched you man, you can press charges.”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, eyes burning.

“Can I please just have a second alone?”

It doesn’t happen. Instead, Zack and another man; one of the guys who’d helped get them off of him, come in with the two offenders, who look scared shitless. After that, it’s a blur. Eddie’s questioned by police, talked through with options. The venue’s paramedic shows up during all of this, then sits him down in a chair, asking what happened, so she can look him over.

“Okay, and what’s the pain, scale of 1 to 10?”

“Uh…seven,” Eddie says, though he’s got no real baseline for the pain in his head.

The woman grabs a pen and clicks it, making a bright light flash into Eddie’s eyes. He rears back, narrowly avoiding yet another head hit to the wall. He follows her finger with his eyes, then touches his nose while his eyes are closed. He hits his cheek instead.

“Mr. Munson, can we try that again?”

Eddie complies, doing what she asks. It’s no better the second time around.

As he opens his eyes, he watches his bandmates, Chelsea, Zack and Jake all look at each other.

“What?”

“With how you’re feeling and the reactions I’ve gotten, I’m going to advise to get you a CT scan. I’m not allowed to diagnose anything, but I’d say you’ve got a minor concussion.”

Eddie blinks. God his head hurts, and he feels like he could probably fall over if he wasn’t sitting. “I’m fine. My head hurts. It hurt before it hit the wall. It always hurts,” he swallows, suddenly angry. “I’m not going to cancel a show because of a headache. You said it yourself, you can’t diagnose anything. I’ll get checked out tomorrow by a real doctor,” Eddie frowns.

“Eddie!”

“Dude..”

“Jesus christ you’re fucking stupid.”

“No, we’re getting a CT scan tonight,” Chelsea shakes her head, and Eddie turns to look at her, eyes dark.

“I’m fine, Chelsea. We’re not canceli-” Eddie cuts himself off with a gasp.

Pain once again explodes in his head. It’s sharp, like someone’s taken an ice pick and driven it into his skull. Whimpering, he presses his hands to his face, and then he hears everything dim, before his eyes slip shut.

#my fic #autumnsnz22 #em #st #rockstarau

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tenaciouspostfun · 6 months

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Music Review

The Temptations, Four Tops In Concert.

The Mo Town Sound.

By Robert M Massimi.Published about an hour ago • 3 min read

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Robert M. Massimi.

The Temptations have been playing music for 61 years. Last night at the Morristown Performing Arts Center the band was extraordinary. Playing under the Mo Town label, like many of the great artists back in the 60's, The Temptations played feel good song amongst the nations most turbulent times. As the Vietnam war raged and protests were almost a daily occurrence, bands like The Temptations and the Four Tops would put forth music that wasn't so much political (some songs were), but songs about love, going about everyday life and the good things that life had to offer.

Mo Town in the 60's were a brand with many artists from the Detroit area. Not only did the bands under the label sing well, they could also dance and visually entertain their audience as well as play music and sing. The Temptations were no exception and last night was proof that this band can still perform!

As they took the stage last evening, the band would be the evenings second and last act. Showing gratitude to the sold out venue, the band belted out seven songs in a row at rapid speed. I don't know of a band that have such versatile voice; from deep baritone to high soprano and everything in between. As they opened with "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" you could hear this versatility right from the jump.

Where The Temptations succeed is that the many different songs that they produced over the years: "Just My Imagination", "My Girl", "Get Ready", "Lady Soul", "Shakey Ground", their rendition of "The Band Played On" are just a few that this wonderful band has played over the years.

After the mid 70's the band did not record an awful lot of songs; they would cut some more songs in the 80's such as: "Treat Her Like a Lady", "Lady Soul", "Soul to Soul", " Standing on the Top" and even "Stay" in the late 90's. Having released an album in the mid 2000's under the production of Smokey Robinson, the band would have it's final album.

Having completed so many great songs with much notoriety, The Temptations didn't so much lose their way, but, it was more that the Mo Town sound faded away, overtaken by hard rock and disco. Like all music genres Mo Town was becoming a memory of the 60's and lost its appeal to listeners. It would be the Funk scene that would ultimately seal the fate of Mo Town's top artists. Funk had the dancing as well as some great songs that would take the mostly black listeners into another direction.

......................................................................................................................

The Four Tops.

The Four Tops are also a Mo Town sound and they too have many great songs and are also a talented song and dance band. With such great songs as "Can't Help Myself", "Reach Out", "Baby I Need Your Loving", "Ain't No Woman", "When She Was My Girl" and "Shake Me Wake Me", this great band was backed by an orchestra last evening and for over 90 minutes the band was pure gold. Like The Temptations, The Four Tops sung feel good songs about love and the reality of falling in love. Grateful too for their accomplishments, the band would reminisce throughout their time on stage how lucky they are to still be playing and how music has taken them to their dreams in life.

Listening to these two groups makes a person realize just how many talented musicians have come our way from the 1960's and beyond. It is amazing just how many great acts came out of Mo Town alone. Listening to these two bands tonight makes you remember just how many songs both groups produced. I am very happy that I got to get the chance to see such talent all in one special night!

Temptations. The Four Tops, Mo Town, Detroit, Michigan, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Rock and Roll, Disco, Soul, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, AC/DC.

ENTERTAINMENT

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About the Creator

Robert M Massimi.

I have been writing on theater since 1982. A graduate from Manhattan College B.S. A member of Alpha Sigma Lambda, which recognizes excellence in both English and Science. I have produced 12 shows on and off Broadway. I've seen over700 shows

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rayne-storm · 10 months

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Dies Irae, Dies Angeli

AUgust 14. Angels and Demons

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera

Summary: Erik, the Opera Ghost, died a long, long time ago. His body did, at least. But there's obviously something haunting the Opera House. A demon has come back to play.

A/N: this is just a snippety bit that I've had on my mind for a while that I might do more with later!

****

The misshapen incubus glared from his seat atop the chandelier as the little people ran about with their manufactured emergencies. Always such haste for inconsequential problems. A wig not powdery enough, a music stand with a squeak, a shoelace too short, problems problems problems. It was all so tedious to observe, but was a necessary evil for his true love: music. Opera, musical theater, concerts, concertos… all were soothing to his fiery soul. It was all he needed to be happy.

Until he saw her.

"Miss Daee, is it? Like the Swedish violinist? Descended from the musicians and craftsmen?"

Christine nodded politely, hands clasped in front of her. "Yes. Gustave was my father, may his soul be at peace," she added, taking in their reactions. Glib sadness, the kind when one knows of the deceased but never met them. Good. They'd not pry into her past beyond the niceties, see nothing more than the stars.

"And why have you chosen the Paris Opera House for your first performance?"

"It holds a dear place in my heart. My parents always spoke fondly of it, the way the sound carries and the building seems to have a beautiful life all its own. It really is second to none…" she leaned in conspiratorially, "despite what Sydney may want the world to think."

The delighted, rather pompous agreement signaled she had succeeded in acquiring a short residence.

The managers spoke of rehearsal schedules, practice spaces, all things well and good, and of course she could stay within the building, yes it was fine to walk around for inspiration occasionally, perfectly safe, etcetera, etcetera.

She tuned out the blathering, polite smile never wavering, as she took in the building. Old, beautiful, full of character and dignity. She loved these places, not just for the architecture or history, but for the spirits they carried. Usually wholesome, delightful things, spectres of musicians or actors, the lingering memories of cherished performances, the emotional highs and lows imprinting the space with beautiful light.

Unfortunately, it was a spirit of an entirely nature that brought her. She felt the markings in her skin tingle slightly as she felt the air shift. Something was here. Something decidedly out of place with the musical crowd. With luck, she could remove it peacefully. If not, she'd drag it back where it belonged.

Christine Daee was, after all, the most gifted exorcist this side of Rome. When she wasn't busy maintaining her solo career, she was ridding the world of evil. It seemed a little cliche, maybe a little anime, opera singer by day, demon hunter by night, but it was her life and she loved it.

Her favorite part, however, was never the expulsion. It was when she could save someone or something from the darkness. She hoped she could do so here.

***

He watched the beautiful woman as she was escorted through his opera house, heart pounding as she effuses over the building and its charm. It seemed she would be performing, when rehearsals for the current project were through, and had chosen this place specifically for her grand season debut.

Erik hadn't felt stirrings like this in ages, but he knew well how vipers hid behind pretty faces. He tried to control the runaway feelings he had for this newcomer, at least until he could find out more. She could be terrible, after all.

But then they insisted she test out the stage. She stepped out, seeming sheepish and uncomfortable, but when she opened her mouth, it was like the host of heaven itself was singing through her. Her voice was divine, beautiful, otherworldly. Erik knew that she had to become his. His own Angel of Music.

#my writing #rayne writes #fanfiction #august 2023 #phantom of the opera #phan fic #erik the phantom #christine daae

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ryanhamiltonwalsh · 1 year

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MORE BOB DYLAN IN BOSTON IN ‘63 MATERIAL PART TWO –>

First, read the Boston Globe story, then PART ONE, and then you can come back here, champ. ABOVE: Sally Schoenfeld and Joy Kimball, who are about to throw a very important party at their apartment in Cambridge, perform music together on the banks of the Charles River.

MORE on CAFE YANA

Originally on Beacon Street, Yana moved to 50 Brookline Ave after construction of the Mass Pike forced them to abandon their first address.

At some point, Yana’s space became swallowed up into one larger lot, 62 Brookline Ave, where Oliver’s Bar was located—which is the scene of one of the final post-Lou Velvet Underground shows and a very interesting Gram Parsons appearance where a fan gave GP some original lyrics which, incredibly, turned out to be “Return of the Grievious Angel.”

WAS SUZE THERE OR WHAT?

In Clinton Heylin’s latest Bob Dylan book, he writes of the Yana dates, “So where was Suze? She was supposed to meet her beau in Boston, having written to her displaced friend...earlier that month, ‘we’ll probably be in boston (cafe yana) april 19-20 (definitely, not probably).' And yet she was nowhere to be seen.”

But after talking to Yana waitress Susan Bluttman, and considering Suze’s letter to her friend Sue Zuckerman, I think it’s most likely the case that, at the very least, Suze was there for the Friday show at Cafe Yana. Bluttman was insistent her memory was correct and her recall of other verifiable details checked out. I specifically asked if it was just “some woman” with Dylan or definitely Suze. She had zero hesitation: she recalls welcoming the couple to the club and showing them where to go before showtime.

PAUL CLAYTON

Also on the bill with Dylan at Yana was New Bedford native, Paul Clayton, a fascinating person and a musician whose recorded catalog was already quite large by the time he met Bob; check out his album Bay State Ballads or Sailing and Whaling Songs of the 19th Century. Although Clayton approached folk from a scholarly, traditionalist point of view—watch for shades of Clayton in Justin Timberlake’s character in the Cohen Brothers film Inside Llewyn Davis—he also had a wild side with a penchant for drugs, partying, and rambling, and at times, Dylan embraced those predilections with him.

By all accounts, the pair had different kinds of infatuations with each other; Dylan saw Clayton as “traditional song personified, speaking to him in mystic tongues,” as Paul’s biographer Bob Coltman put it, and Clayton not only saw Dylan as the next step forward in folk music, but also a forbidden romantic desire. Many friends who saw the two interact instantly recognized Clayton’s massive crush on Dylan. "His biggest problem,” Clayton friend Patrick Sky told the Globe in 2013, “was that he was gay at a time when it was pretty much illegal.”

At the time of the Yana concerts, Dylan was about a month away from releasing Freewheelin’, including the future classic “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right,” which as it turned out, heavily borrowed its melody and many of its lyrics from Paul Clayton’s 1959 song “Who’s Gonna Buy You Ribbons,” which in turn had been based on "Who's Gon Bring You Chickens”—a tune Clayton found collected in a 1923 book titled Eight Negro Songs. It was a similar chain of influence as “Baby, Let Me Follow You Down” except that this time, Clayton’s song publishers would sue Dylan’s publisher over the lift. The matter was settled out of court, but Clayton’s continued poverty compared with Dylan’s steady success and accumulation of wealth did not go unnoticed by the Greenwich Village folkies who knew how it had all gone down. More and more, it seemed that it didn’t matter who actually wrote a particular song, but more who first obtained a copyright.

Dylan and Clayton’s time together was not quite finished yet, though it appears that the two nights at Café Yana were the final live bills they would ever share together as performers.

After one more druggy cross-country trip together, Clayton was placed outside of the inner circle without an explanation. There is one theory that Clayton began to date Suze’s sister Carla in to get closer to Bob, and when Bob’s relationship with Suze ended, it meant that Carla and Clayton also needed to go as well.

Everyone agreed that Dylan’s 1965 song “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” was some kind of send-off letter to the folk music world, but select listeners believed it to include specific references to Clayton, including, at times, Paul himself. Tragically, less than two years after Dylan “went electric” at the Newport Folk Festival, Clayton electrocuted himself in his own bathtub. When his personal belongings were cataloged, it was noted that he no longer owned an acoustic guitar, but kept an electric guitar and drums, as he was working on a strange experimental, electric suite of music titled “Gingerbreadd Mindd” which has never been released. Clayton is spoken about reverently in Dylan’s 2011 memoir, but his suicide is not mentioned.

JFK

The following day, Saturday April 20th, President John F. Kennedy spoke at Boston College. Still grappling with the fall out of the Cuban Missile Crisis, Kennedy kept the speech light and focused on the importance of the nation’s higher education system, opening his remarks by declaring “it is good to come back to a city where my accent is considered normal.” I only mention this because a) with Dylan’s late career 20-minute opus “Murder Most Foul” choosing Kennedy’s assassination as its anchor, it’s almost worth noting anytime the two were in relative close proximity to each other (like the same city). Additionally—and this is a longshot—would news of Kennedy in town specifically bring Dylan’s mind back towards the missile crisis, and thus World War III, and perhaps to the point of inspiration for writing “Talking World War III” blues? I have no idea. I’m just spit-ballin’ here.

NOV 2, 1963 @ JORDAN HALL - BLOWN IN THE WIND

Bob Dylan came back for another show in Boston in the fall, and this time, all the listings in the Globe and elsewhere spelled his name right, but unfortunately, they were still struggling with the exact song titles.

SYMPHONY HALL, FREAKING OUT DAVID LYNCH

The following year, the Globe resets Dylan back to zero and claims his Symphony Hall show will be his first in the city. Oh well! In the audience at this show? Director David Lynch! Watch here.

More on Lynch living in Boston here. The Symphony Hall show setlist here.

JOAN BAEZ

This is a write-up and photo of Baez the night she headlined Donnelly Memorial Theater, Saturday April 20th, 1963, the night before the party in Cambridge where she and Dylan would finally crash into each other.

WAS MEL LYMAN AT THAT PARTY?

I don’t think so! I believe this all happens right before ol’ Mel rolls into town. From AW68 --->

And finally, photos from the post-Hoot party, by Rick Stafford, as printed in the book Baby, Let Me Follow You Down.

That’s all for now. Thanks for reading!

#Bob Dylan #Boston

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dooppooo · 2 years

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mdni - nsfw content, oral (f receiving), squirting, piercings, spitting, possessive behavior, breeding kink

Requests Open!

Prompt List

Some fan art I found on Pinterest inspired this, you're welcome.

(effectbitter on twitter)

rockstar!Geto who only lets his favorite groupie on the tour bus - you.

rockstar!Geto who took your advice to get a tongue piercing, claiming it would "add too his rockstar narrative"

rockstar!Geto also likes to keep you pampered and pretty in his changing room to use as he pleases before and after shows

rockstar!Geto swipes all the makeup on the vanity onto the floor and tosses you onto it, ripping down your panties barely hidden beneath your mini skirt

rockstar!Geto making you cum all over his face to get his adrenaline rushing instead of doing drugs like other musicians

rockstar!Geto who doesn't stop even when your trembling and overstimulated, because he wants to go out on stage with his chin neck and chest covered in your juices

rockstar!Geto eats pussy like it's his last meal and is always messy - his end goal to make you squirt

rockstar!Geto threatens to make you squirt when he comes back from preforming if you can't do it before, and he's a man of his word, securing his promise by spitting into your mouth with his hand around your throat

rockstar!Geto who smells like sex and sweat when he performs and during his VIP meet and greets

rockstar!Geto who gets asked about all the women he must sleep with to always be exuding the signs of filthy sex, only for him to honestly answer that just one special lady is in his life

rockstar!Geto who always has women throwing themselves at him, but simply kisses their foreheads before joining you either in the changing room or the tour bus and holding up to his promise

rockstar!Geto who also says in interviews that he's single and this 'special lady' isn't his girlfriend nor his wife - only to keep the sex more intense and your dynamic thrilling

rockstar!Geto would also wring your neck if you dared to even think of sleeping with any of the other band members or anyone else in general, you two weren't official, but you were Geto's groupie

rockstar!Geto who can also be soft at times too, like when he can tell you've had an exhausting day of getting your nails done and shopping for outfits curated by him, he'll take his time with you, reminding you how special you are and gently pulling orgasm after orgasm from you

rockstar!Geto shielding you from paparazzi and fans, because you didn't deserve to have your picture plastered all over the internet without your consent, the only photos of you that would be taken were ones of you bent over in your skirts or lingerie hidden in a folder on his phone

rockstar!Geto writing a song about you and playing it at every one of his concerts without fail

rockstar!Geto who finally crumbles under pressure from the media who demanded to find out who this mysterious woman was that gave him his signature scent and took up all his time between shows

rockstar!Geto posting pictures of you two basically making out and later booking a mini-photo shoot for you to reveal you in all your glory

rockstar!Geto who bought an engagement ring when he saw some of the photos from the modeling gigs you had gotten into, wanting to secure you before other super stars leapt after you

rockstar!Geto who ran back to the changing room just before the end of one of his concerts and pulling you out onto the stage, proposing to you in front of the crowd

rockstar!Geto takes a year off of touring to go on endless honey moon trips, and when you finally return from all your fancy destinations your swollen and round with his baby

rockstar!Geto occasionally bringing both you and your daughter out onto stage to show off how hot his wife is and his adorable daughter, who gets a chance to show how hard she's been practicing on guitar and hear some cheering from the crowd when she takes her ear piece out

rockstar!Geto who now fucks you before and after concerts, promising to fill you up with another baby, sometimes reverting back to the old days and going feral at the flavor you coated his tongue with

#jjk smut #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto suguru #getou suguru x y/n #suguru smut #getou suguru x reader

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part One)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Dreams turn into reality on smokey breaths. Inner turmoil melts away with the touch from warm skin. Promises make the evening decisions go from complicated to deliciously easy.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw soft drugs (marijuana)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 4421

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree @alina-exe @cherricola66

***

Soft skin against his fingers. A hand running down his chest to his pants. Heavy breathing filling the room. The flesh underneath him felt warm and welcoming, hot to the touch and begging for more. Her perfume filled his senses as she pulled him close. Nails running down his back. Whispers of "amore mio, just like that", "keep going,” “cara mia, vita mia, please".

A “Dami, fuck” leaving her lips as his hand started gripping her thighs. Running between them, as she threw her head back, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling on it. Biting her neck. Coaxing more moans out of him, on a mission to make him lose his mind. She was heaven on earth. Supple breasts moving with every breath as he let his mouth descend on them, one at a time, desperate to consume all of her. Kissing every inch of her, exploring her until he knew about every curve, every ridge, every little spot of her body. He wanted to know all the secrets she ever had. Drawing noises out of her that he wanted to keep hearing for the rest of his life. Her hands on his shoulders, on his back, on his arse. Pulling him further into her. Letting his mouth wander lower, getting wrapped up between her legs. She looked at him with dark eyes, nodding, and he was ready to suffocate in between her thighs.

Wait, was he actually suffocating on her thighs?

Damiano woke up with a start, face pressed deeply into the pillow, restricting his breathing in a way that was much less sexy than the one in his dream. A circle of drool had escaped his mouth and dropped onto the pillow. Well, that's embarrassing, he thought to himself.

He was in the middle of pushing himself up and out of bed, highly aware of the situation in his boxers - only to be interrupted when a knock on the door startled him. Trying to wrap the sheet around him, suddenly overly self-conscious of his state, he hastened to the door, almost tripping several times on the way. When he finally unlocked and opened it, he just about let his head appear in the opening, awkwardly hiding between the door still. Y/n’s face was painted in confusion. He forgot how stunning she really was, his brain not even coming close to painting her image in his dreams.

“Yes, hi, good morning, I’m up! I’ll be down in an hour!” He was rushing to finish his sentence, not giving her a chance to reply before he let the door fall back into its lock. A deep breath out. Her face instilled in his mind like a photograph, unable to be separated from the extremely vivid dream he’d just had. He felt bad. He had essentially slammed the door in her face while wrapped up in a bedsheet. Not a very good impression considering he liked the woman behind the door. This was going to be such a long day.

***

“Why are you so awkward?” Victoria nudged Damiano as they had settled on a couch on the bus. He had been looking off since she had first seen him that morning, which was odd. Especially considering he was usually more of an early bird than the rest of them. “Sleep badly? Bad dreams? Good dreams? Or did you scare Y/n away again with another morning wood incident.”

Damiano’s face burned up as if suddenly ignited, making Victoria gasp.

“Oh my god, did you?!” She smacked his chest with her hand as she let out a gasp.

“I wasn’t even aware you knew about the first time,” Damiano mumbled, slumping down deeper into the seat. Crawling into the shirt he was wearing. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Word travels fast on tour, you should know that by now,” she giggled, repositioning so she had her legs spread across his thighs. “So what happened?”

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” he scoffed. Victoria’s grin only spread further, though. She was loving this side of Damiano more than she would like to admit - shy, awkward, unsure of himself. He was one of the best people she knew, an amazing frontman, a talented musician, a loyal friend. Yet with one little addition to the team he had turned into a quivering mess.

“You know I’m just going to ask Y/n what happened, right?”

“Yeah good luck with that, she didn’t even notice. At least I hope not.”

“Wait - so you hid your boner from her? I mean, at least you didn’t traumatise her again. What happened though, did you have some good times before the wake-up call?” She once again nudged him obnoxiously, loving how uncomfortable she was making him. “Did you have a wet dream? Did- Oh my god, you’re blushing, you did have a wet dream! Tell me everything! Was it hot? Did she go down on you or something? Did you see her tits?”

“Fuck off Victoria, I’m not telling you anything, now stop! It’s no like-”

“Hi! Attention, everyone! I know it's early and everyone is probably still asleep. But - announcements! That includes you Thomas,” Y/n said pulling the curtain of the guitarist’s bunk back so he could listen too.

Victoria noticed how their assistant didn’t seem spooked by Damiano’s presence at all - it seemed like he had been right after all. She hadn’t noticed a thing. If only those two would stop playing cat and mouse and finally do something, anything, she thought.

"Now, I know we're all excited about going to Amsterdam today, and I'm not looking at anyone in particular here," she explained as she shot a pointed look at Damiano that no one missed. "But I have one ground rule: no weed before the show. You got tomorrow off, so whatever you do after the performance tonight is none of my business. But god help you if I find you with a joint in hand any time before that."

She smiled, but Victoria had no doubts she would be deadly serious if it came to it. Y/n passed out a map of the local area, highlighting the Leidseplein in the middle of town, and in red circles were the venue, the hotel they were staying at, restaurants, and several coffeeshops, all within easy walking distance.

“Do with that what you like,” she concluded. ”As long as you do it after the show.”

***

The band had gotten to the venue straight after lunch, excitedly discussing some new covers they were thinking about playing that night. Soundcheck consisted of a number of conversations all at once, trying to figure out how to change the setlist. Damiano found himself participating less, instead, staring down at Y/n sitting in the audience. She was busy writing in her notebook, the seats next to her taken up by her bag, folders, and laptop. He knew she needed a break. They all worked extremely hard all the time, so it wasn't difficult to spot the signs of a fellow overworked person. He made it his own personal mission to get her to go out with them that night. Spend some time outside of work, see the city, anything that made her put her phone down.

As day turned to night, the concert loomed on the horizon. As soon as they hit the stage, it was clear it was going to be a good night. Amsterdam was the best kind of crazy. Going from Zitti e Buoni into Billie Eilish's Bury a Friend, the crowd went wild. Damiano noticed with amusement that Y/n was absentmindedly dancing along from her spot on the side of the stage as well. His attention had only been diverted towards her for a second, he was sure, but it was enough to suddenly feel something hit his head. Soft, red fabric.

"Was wondering when the first of those would come around," Damiano chuckled into the microphone in between songs, swinging the bra around a few times, before draping it across his mic stand.

Yet as much as the energy of the audience rubbed off on the band, all of them felt like collapsing after the show, feeling like they'd given it more than their all. A perfect chance to unwind for the night, in a way only Amsterdam really knew how. It was legal, after all.

***

“I am absolutely not getting high with you lot.”

Everyone was gathered in Y/n’s hotel room more or less uninvited. It seemed like they were dying to drag her along on what was supposed to be one of the best nights out on that tour. After getting ready, they had simply stormed in as soon as she had opened her hotel door. Now they were perched on her bed, her desk, and her armchair, trying to convince her.

“I gave you all a map to see where you could go. I, for one, would like to stay in my room, just me and my bed, and sleep till my alarm in the morning. That sounds like a brilliant time in my book.”

“Boring!” Thomas shouted, hurling a pillow from the bed at her that she quickly caught and threw back with much less force.

“If you come out with us, we’ll be ready before your wake-up call for the rest of the week!” Victoria tried to bribe.

“If you come out with us, we’ll have breakfast ready for you every day!” Y/n shot a look at Thomas, knowing fully well this was not going to happen. The idea alone made her laugh.

“If you come out with us, you can keep me company while the other three go crazy?” Ethan finally offered. She knew she was close to giving in, no matter how wrong it seemed to blur the lines between working relationship and friendship. She barely even agreed to drinks when she was on the job, and technically, she considered herself to be on the job 24/7. Yet these four had grown close to her heart so much more than anticipated.

Out of nowhere Damiano appeared next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder. The way his fingertips brushed her neck as he did so left goosebumps. “Come on, darling, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

It turned out, that was all she had needed to hear.

***

The coffeeshop didn’t differ much from the usual pubs and bars; people stuffed in every corner, a low murmur of talk with the occasional loud laughter over the music playing in the background, tables full of glasses and bottles. Only the smoke lingering in the air, its distinct smell, and the relaxed atmosphere let on that it was a slightly different kind of place. Y/n made short work of weaseling through the crowd and securing a table at the far end of the place, just enough space to accommodate all of them, as the others went to order.

“Do you want one as well?” Damiano asked as soon as he had let himself fall onto the couch next to her, already preparing to roll a joint.

“I think I’m getting a second-hand high just sitting here. Maybe take a puff of one of yours, but I won't be able to finish one myself."

Damiano nodded, licking the inside of the blanks as he prepared his joint. Victoria came bouncing in like a tidal wave - her usual fashion - and crashing into the others already sitting down. As soon as Damiano was happy with his creation, she snatched it out of his hand, making short work of lighting it and taking a drag.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“Make another one,” she grinned, obnoxiously blowing the smoke into his face. Rolling his eyes, Damiano quickly prepared another one for himself, everyone now happy and content with their smokes, until only Y/n was left holding at a glass of water.

She preferred to observe the scene from her little advantage point in the corner like she so often did. The mellow music in the background was loud enough to underline the atmosphere but quiet enough to easily talk to everyone around you without having to shout. She liked this much better than loud bars in the evening. Most people were minding their own business, in small groups or pairs, some on their own. Victoria was quick to start chatting to a pair of girls sitting at the table next to them. She wasn’t going to lie - while not her usual spot, she didn’t exactly feel uncomfortable.

A hand appeared in front of her face, seemingly out of nowhere, and it took her a second to realise it was Damiano, trying to pass her his joint. She hesitated - still not convinced whether she should be smoking at all, but one look into his eyes only proved to her that she was weak to his suggestions. Parting her lips ever so slightly, she let him push the blunt between them, his fingertips grazing her. She took a drag, careful not to breathe in too much too quickly, before releasing the joint. Damiano pulled it back towards himself immediately, putting it back between his own lips, and she felt hypnotised. The moment came to an abrupt end when a cough took hold of her.

“Easy, easy,” Ethan soothed from the other side, his hand on her upper back. “Breathe.”

Everyone around the table seemed to be looking at her now, but she quickly got her composure back, holding up her hands in a gesture that was meant to signal she was fine.

“Fuck,” Y/n choked, taking a drink from her glass to wet her throat. “This is why I don’t smoke.”

“Wrong,” Thomas threw in. “This is because you don’t smoke!”

Y/n shook her head, giggling at the guitarist and the know-it-all look in his eyes.

“Up to try again?” Damiano whispered in her ear as the attention had finally ceased to be on her. She found herself staring into his eyes once again, a fluttery feeling erupting in her stomach at having him watch her so intently, at being able to capture his attention so easily.

The look on his face was enough to get her to try again. And again. And again.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but for once, she genuinely didn’t care. The people around them had changed, old ones leaving, new ones arriving, but the music stayed the same. She wasn’t quite sure what the joke Thomas was telling them was about, but she found herself giggling along nonetheless. This was the best she had felt in forever.

Unaware of what she was doing, she leaned back, finding Damiano’s arms carefully wrapping around her, holding her softly. To her own surprise, she was sinking into him.

“Having fun?” He asked in a voice so low she barely heard it. A voice so soft it made her heart melt. She nodded, slightly twisting around in his embrace to look at him again. She couldn’t get enough of his face. She’d stay and study it for all of eternity if he let her.

"Have you ever seen brown zircon?” She suddenly asked out of nowhere. “It's a gemstone that looks like they made sparkly salted caramel bonbons from rock. They mine it in Tanzania, I think? Your eyes sparkle just like that." She grinned at the man beside her. "I can attest to that from this angle at least. It’s like the one scene in Aladdin! 'She's got these eyes, and this hair and…’ Ah oh god, what am I doing?" She couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being. She found her face resting on his shoulder, completely content. His eyes never wavered from her face, listening closely to what she had to say.

Then Y/n watched her hand brush Damiano’s hair to the front, attempting to style it in a slightly different way. “Did you mean to look like Eren Yeager or was that some sort of subconscious coincidence? Not that it doesn’t look good, of course.”

“You watch Attack on Titan?” Dami looked down at her with surprise.

“No I don’t, but my friends do. So you learn the names of the people they yell at through the TV screen very quickly,” she laughed, remembering the way her friends would huddle in the living room, shouting at whatever the characters were doing wrong in their opinion.

“The more I get to know you, the more I’m convinced you’re my kinda woman, you know?” he mumbled, a smile grazing his lips. The more she looked at him, the more she felt her brain shutting off and her heart taking over. Or was it the high? She wasn’t interested in trying to differentiate.

Once again, he pushed the joint between her lips, holding the eye contact and it felt so much more intimate than it should have. It felt like her nerves were on fire. When he pulled his hand back again, she wanted to grab onto it, keep him in place, keep the moment.

I could stay in this forever, Y/n thought to herself.

"Also, I'm not religious by any means, but whatever God was responsible for creating you sure took their sweet time doing it…" The words spilled from her mouth before she realized she was talking, eyes flicking back and forth between his. "You know?"

She caught herself looking at his lips. A small blush grew on her face as she looked away. Staring out into the room, out at the people sitting next to them at other tables. Something distracting to take the rising heat off.

***

Damiano could feel his defenses wearing away. All ideas of staying away completely vanished into the smoke that lulled them in as he was holding her in his arms, her back leaning against his chest. He could feel her breathing, giggling at nothing at all, or maybe something Victoria had said but he hadn’t heard.

“If anyone’s been made by the angels, it’s you, amore,” he mumbled more to himself than anything, but she had heard him. Another chuckle running through her body. The atmosphere was fogging up his brain. He watched in amusement as he let a finger run up her arms, from her wrist to her upper arm where the fabric of her shirt began, and goosebumps appeared as if standing tall in a row. He tried it again on the other arm, getting the same result.

“What are you doing?”

She was turning around in his arms, just enough to look at him without removing herself from his embrace. He wondered if it was the dim light or if she was always this radiant. His hands travelled to the elastic that was holding her hair together and carefully removed it, eyes on her. Her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully in its typically wild manner.

“I…” Her eyes seemed to twinkle as the light of the bar reflected back at him through them. “I don’t know.”

He looked away, suddenly insecure. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, now less than ever. He wanted her. Wanted her all to himself. Wanted to keep holding her like this forever. There was no denying that.

“You’re sweet.”

Her voice took a second to get through to him, but as it did, he turned his head as if in slow motion. All he had wanted to do was look at her again, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her lips were on his.

***

All Y/n had done was lean forward to press a kiss against his cheek. Now their lips were meeting and she didn’t know how she had gotten there. She wanted to pull back - no, actually she didn’t. But she thought she should. Though the spirit was willin - to pull away, that was -, the flesh was weak. Delving deeper into his arms, she found herself kissing him like she meant it. Her hands found his chest, feeling the rising heat from his skin. Being closer to him than ever before was driving her crazy. His soft, warm lips against hers. Just the tiniest movements, as if he was afraid of breaking her. She let herself enjoy it. For a moment. That was all her brain allowed before switching back to the rational part. She pulled back in surprise.

She moved out of his embrace, stiffening at the contact. All of the twinkling lights of romance that had just appeared around them now popped as the kiss ended.

I just kissed my boss. I just fucking went and kissed Damiano! I am so, so fucked.

Yet, she couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss him again. And again, and again until they ran out of air to breathe. She looked back at him and the expression on his face said it all. His lids lowered, a small smile appearing on his face. Eyes twinkling in the soft light. He hadn’t wanted the kiss to end either. Either that or the weed was affecting him more than she had thought.

But as cold air started to seep in between them he blinked a couple of times, only now noticing that she had pulled away.

"Sorry - about that. I was trying to- I wasn't trying to kiss you. Well, I was - but not on the mouth. That would have been very forward of me. I would never. That's not me. I don't know how that happened - sorry." Y/n rambled on, unable to stop talking.

Damiano smirked, pecking her cheek. "Y/n, it's fine, you're fine. I turned my head and we kissed. It happens." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. As if this was some sort of common occurrence. As if she was panicking for nothing. Was she?

***

Damiano desperately tried to hide the turmoil inside of him. It happens?! Damiano, what the hell are you thinking! Not the right thing to say in this situation! Now it just looks like you’d kiss anyone, great. He looked down at his hands, fumbling with his rings. Trying to get his breathing back under control. He needed to be cool.

"I mean - not that I didn't enjoy it. You kiss good!"

You kiss good? What the? That wasn’t even English. He was well and truly losing his mind.

***

Y/n took a deep breath, sitting back in her seat, making sure not to be as close to Damiano as she had been before. Victoria and Thomas had migrated to get more drinks and Ethan was deeply entrenched in some conversation with a man next to him. Luckily the rest of the band hadn't seen what just happened. Grabbing her glass once more, the cold wet condensation gave a stark contrast to her warm skin.

The kiss still left a tingly feeling on her lips. Quickly looking at Damiano, she met his eyes. He had not looked away yet, it seemed. She watched as he bit his lip in contemplation. Whatever was playing on his mind, Y/n didn't know. His words left her believing he wasn’t quite as put together as he tried to pretend. He certainly wasn’t making much sense. Although, she wouldn’t dismiss his compliment of her kissing abilities. She wondered if he would think similarly if they did it again, or did more than that…

Her wandering thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud crash. The culprit was quickly spotted. The middle of the coffeeshop, which had been empty of people until then, now had Thomas lying on his front, surrounded by liquid and broken glass.

Y/n didn’t hesitate, jumping up to offer her aid. The worry only lasted for a second though, until Thomas turned on his back, giggling maniacally. She barely managed to kick some shards out of the way before he could roll onto them.

She let out a deep sigh at the state of the guitarist, before quickly apologizing to the people at the bar.

“Everyone help me grab Thomas, I think this is our sign to call it a night.”

***

Y/n thought she’d have an easy time going to sleep. The effects of the joint were lingering, plus, the day had just been plain exhausting. Yet, as her head hit the pillow, she felt restless. Her mind kept circling around Damiano. The way he had looked at her. The way he had looked in general. She had seen him basically naked at this point, but she still thought about how it would be different up close and personal. She wished she had been able to read his eyes more. Had he been thinking about the same things she had? Had he wanted to kiss her again and again, get lost in that bubbling excitement of finally being close, finally let his hands wander to new places? She wanted to pull his hair. See what kind of sound would leave his mouth when doing so.

She wanted his hands and his lips, all of him really, badly. She wanted to know what he felt like when he really kissed her. What his fingers would be able to do to her. Biting and moaning. She desperately needed some release, wishing it would come from him, but knowing there was no chance, at least not tonight. Her hand wandered between her legs as she let her mind run wild. Imagining it was him instead, letting his fingers run along the inside of her thighs, exploring every inch of her. How he would treat her just right, hit all the right spots, do so much better than her own fingers ever could. The words he’d whisper in her ear, seducing her with his mother tongue, breath fanning her skin. How he would kiss her senseless. Feeling the rhythm of their bodies take over. Watch his tattoos start to glisten with a sheen of sweat from what they would be doing.

She found her release almost embarrassingly quickly, burying her face in her pillow. Her body felt more at ease, although her heart was still craving something more. She had almost calmed down, getting her breathing back under control. In a moment of clarity, she checked her phone to see when she had to wake up the next day, when the sound of a moan caught her attention. One that definitely wasn’t her own, but seemed to come from the room next door.

Damiano’s room.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

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groovyzombiellama · 3 years

Text

Generation Swine

Title: Generation Swine

Requested? Yes.

Plot: You marry Nikki Sixx in 1990, have your daughter in 1992 and the two of you go on tour with the band in 1997.

Word count: 1471

---***---

1990---

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.“ It felt as if just yesterday that Nikki proposed to you, and here you were, at the altar, beginning your lives as husband and wife. You never saw Nikki as only a famous musician, he was first and foremost an amazing person you loved. This was the man who supported you through anything and who always looked after you no matter what, and the fact that he was famous was just a bonus to you. So you never looked at the hate comments of people who were claiming that you were marrying Nikki just for his money and fame, because you knew that it wasn’t true, but more importantly for you, Nikki knew that, and that was all you needed to brush away everyone who tried spreading false rumors about your life and love. You often wondered what would have happened if you had looked at every comment and believed them, and in the beginning you did, you read everything that people said about you, no matter how much it made you wish the earth would just eat you up. And a few times at the start of your relationship with Nikki, you wondered weather you should just quit.

Weather he would be happier if you weren’t in his life. Your head spinning as “what if’s“ and “buts“ filled your head to the point you swore it was going to explode. But then Nikki came in to the rescue and made you realise once again that you chose the right person for you. He could tell that those comments were bothering you, often times seeing your finger hover over the delete button, as you debated weather you should just delete all social media and throw your phone in the trash. And many times he wanted to talk to you, but he knew you. He knew you would not say anything unless you were ready to talk, and no matter how much he bugged you, you would continue claiming that you’re fine, so he waited for you to come to him. But after about two and a half weeks, he couldn’t take it anymore, as you were still pretending you were fine, so he snatched your phone from your hand one day as you two were sitting on the couch, your legs in his lap, a movie you were not even paying attention to playing on the tv, as the comments under your newest post were all you could focus on, and it annoyed Nikki because you two were supposed to have a cozy movie night before they had to leave for a few weeks to do some shows.

He grabbed your hands in his once he set your phone down on the table and finally got you to open up to him, and as only once you were done talking did you notice tears streaming down your face. Nikki raised his hand and wiped your tears, pulling you in his arms, reassuring you that none of those comments matter to him, because he knows you, and he knows you love him for who he is. “Do you really think of me as someone who can’t see when he’s being lied to, or manipulated? Give me some credit babe, come on!“ He said in the middle of affirming to you that you are the woman that he loves making you giggle, and his own lips curved into a smile at the sound. From then on you stopped reading comments and instead, focused on your life and the people who are important to you. And it gave you an interesting feeling, a sense of power to have those who claimed you two wouldn’t last, see that you’re now a married couple, and it made you want to prove it to them even more that you’re here to stay. The amount of love in Nikki’s eyes as he looked at you on the day of your wedding will forever stay burned in your mind.

1992---

“Mr and Mrs Feranna, congratulations, you’re now the parents of a very beautiful baby girl.“ Both you and Nikki couldn’t believe your eyes as you looked at your tiny human. She felt so small in your arms and you had to pinch yourself to be sure you were not dreaming. Her small fingers curling around her fathers much bigger one warmed your heart. Your little bundle of joy had no idea how loved she was and how cared for. Nikki pressed a gentle kiss on your head, thanking you for giving him this huge joy in the shape of your tiny bean. A few people told you how love fades between a couple with the birth of their child, and that you were both gonna love her more than each other, and you couldn’t understand that, as your love for your husband and his for you grew so much. You adored your little family and even though your daughter was the light in your life, your husband had a good grip on your heart too. And for Nikki, his two girls have made home in his heart, not planning to leave any time soon and that was completely okay with him.

It was pure magic to see your daughter grow. Her first step, her first word, (it was “dada“, but even when Nikki teased you about it, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be mad, since he was the best father any child could ever hope for) all of her firsts were, on one hand constant reminders that she’s growing way too fast for your liking, but on the other, beautiful moments that made you proud of being her mother. Tommy, Vince and Mick absolutely adored her too, and spoiled her rotten. They made sure she has everything she ever wanted and so many times they went overboard on sweets and toys. You loved hearing her tiny giggles as she ran around trying to catch one of them, or trying to run away. Shaking your head slightly, you laughed as Nikki pretended to fall while he was chasing her around, but your smile soon was replaced with a pout, as you melted at your daughter waddling over to her father with a worried face, hoping he wasn’t really injured. Nikki told her he was fine and held her in his arms for a while until she was assured he was okay, and soon enough it was back to playtime.

1997---

“Are you sure you two have enough pillows?“ Your husband asked, for what had to be the tenth time, as you were tucking your daughter, who was now five years old, into bed for the night. You smiled softly, cupping his cheek with your hand, telling him not to worry and that the two of you will be fine. The root of Nikki’s worry was in the fact that it was your daughter’s first time sleeping in a tourbus so he worried the curves and bumps in the road would disturb her sleep. But when he noticed that she was out like a light despite not being used to sleeping in a moving vehicle, he calmed down and was able to enjoy the ride with his bandmates. They were on tour to promote their album Generation Swine, but Nikki didn’t want to leave his girls for too long, so he asked if you wanted to come with him. Your daughter was extatic to be traveling with her father and uncles, since she always missed them when they were gone for a long time with tours and shows, so you couldn’t say no.

When they were not busy with shows and promotions, and had a little window of free time, they spent it with her, showing her around the venue before a concert, or taking her for ice cream at a local ice cream shop. You were both having the time of your life, and it meant the world to Nikki that his wife and daughter were there to support him. Even later on in your lives, he loved to recall that tour as near and dear to his heart, because it was the first time he had the two of you close to him throughout the whole tour. It made it even more fun to see your daughters tiny dance moves as her father and his bandmates performed on stage or at soundcheck, and it made the boys laugh so much at her cuteness. Even when some people looked your way, shocked that you had brought a child to a concert of a heavy metal band, it didn’t bother you, as you had your little family, consisting of your husband, your daughter, and her three uncles and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

---***---

here you go anon, sorry it took so long, I hope you like it :)

From now on, I will try to mostly post only on Fridays, and once I have less studying to do, I’ll post on some other days too :)

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x reader #motley crue #Vince Neil #vince neil imagine #vince neil x reader #Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #tommy lee x reader #Mick Mars #mick mars imagine #mick mars x reader #montley crue imagine #the dirt #the dirt movie #the dirt imagine

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 3 years

Text

Chaconne: Part 9 (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: With the first concert of the season approaching, you continue working as the personal assistant of Maestra Agatha Harkness, while attempting to juggle your relationship and future in the process.

Word Count: 5K Words

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCfDtxcFoyM

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to Part 9 of Chaconne. One quick thing...I have decided to extend this story by just a few parts, I really don’t want to rush through the ending and there are a few more things I want to write haha. Anyways, I included a link to the first movement of Dvorak Symphony No. 9, and it’s briefly mentioned throughout the story so if you feel inclined feel free to listen. I really hope all of you are still enjoying the story, and that you enjoy Part 9! As always, please feel free to leave a comment and my asks/messages are open if you have any questions :)

Tag List: @annie-mit-ie @celasteria @danvers97 @imthedoctorlove @mcfriggingonagall @meowsaidmissy @notsosecretlyalesbian @sarahp-stan @scarletwxtxh @scarletmeltstheice @shinkomiii @sxfwap @thestrangeundoing @teenwonder @upsidedowndanvers @venticalooks @vintagegoddess12 @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @thoroughly--confused

You weren’t sure how long you were frozen on stage, completely lost in your thoughts before the sound of Agatha’s heels came clicking from backstage. Just as you managed to clear your head of Wanda’s offer, the alluring scent of lavender invaded your senses. Even from a few feet away you could hear the conductor mumbling to herself about god knows what. As soon as she spotted you, however, the ramblings immediately stopped.

“Ah, there you are,” Agatha said, offering you a rare but genuine smile as she set her belongings down on the podium. “I see you set the stage.”

Nodding you motioned across the hall. “It didn’t take too long but I gave the winds extra room like you requested.”

The conductor nodded before curiously eyeing you. “Are you alright, dear? You seem distracted.”

Well you could tell her that her least favorite concert pianist had just suggested you move to Vienna. Or how Wanda was apparently aware that there was something going on between the two of you. A part of you did think it would be important to inform Agatha of that, but you also didn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already was.

You quickly nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

Agatha’s eyes searched yours for a moment before nodding and turning her attention to her Dvorak score. A few minutes later, various MSO musicians arrived and began unpacking on and off stage. You eventually headed out to sit in one of the front rows, and you realized you never told Monica that she would be getting a new stand partner.

Luckily it didn’t take long for the violinist to enter the hall, followed closely by Jimmy and Darcy. Her face lit up when she saw you, and went to set her violin down in the row you were sitting in.

“Hey Y/N,” Monica greeted you brightly, before frowning when she noticed something was amiss. “Where’s your violin?”

“I...I’m not playing with the MSO anymore,” you explained quietly, watching Agatha berate the second chair oboist on stage for the way she tuned. “Hayward had blind auditions to fill the chair and I didn’t get it.”

“That’s whack,” Darcy immediately replied, causing Jimmy and Monica to glare at her. “What? It is.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Monica said sincerely. “You’re really talented, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah and it’s only one audition,” Jimmy pointed out. “Hayward’s always been a bit hard headed when it comes to filling seats, especially if it’s someone he picked.”

“It’s okay,” you insisted. “And Monica you’ll be getting a new stand partner so I’m sure he’ll be really good.”

“Which one is he?” Darcy asked curiously as she scanned the hall.

You discreetly glanced around the room before you found him. He was already heading on stage, violin in hand. You hadn’t really paid him much mind before the audition, but now you seemed to notice every detail about him. The sure way he presented himself as he practically strutted up the stage. His rigid posture as he sat in his seat, as if that was a comfortable way to sit.

You motioned your head to the stage and Darcy let out a quiet snort. “Oh good. John Walker.”

Monica rolled her eyes at her friend. “You know this guy?”

“Of course I do,” Darcy replied. “I know everyone.”

“What’s his deal?” Jimmy asked curiously. “He seems a bit...”

“Like he has a stick up his ass?” Darcy guessed, and Jimmy laughed.

“I was going to say uptight, but sure.”

“Walker fancies himself to be a bit of a prodigy,” Darcy explained and shook her head. “He’s good, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not amazing. I played a few gigs with him last summer in the Hamptons and I dreaded every moment spent in his company.”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Monica argued before giving you a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I agree with you,” you reassured the violinist. “I’m going to go see if Ag- Maestra needs anything before rehearsal so I’ll see you guys later?”

Agatha was leaning against the podium, drinking her water when she saw you approach her. The conductor appeared exhausted again, and you made a mental note to make sure she went straight home after rehearsal.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

Agatha handed you her spare Dvorak score. “I’ll need you to tell me how the sound projects through the hall. We’ll be running the first movement today and I need to make sure the opening cello theme is clear enough.”

“Right, and if something isn’t clear what do you want me to do?”

“Well you could always throw something at Dottie,” Agatha suggested. “That would certainly get my attention.”

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I’m being serious.”

“As was I, dear. Dottie needs to look up from her music more. Perhaps that would encourage her to do so,” Agatha replied nonchalantly before sighing at the look you gave her. “Fine. I’ll ask you at the end of the movement what your notes are.”

“You mean my notes on sound projection, right?”

Agatha shrugged. “Or any suggestions you have on how to improve different sections. I...” the conductor paused and glanced around the hall to make sure no one else was listening in. “I do value your opinion.”

Your felt your heart sing at those words, and it took everything in you to not grab the older woman and kiss her senseless. Instead you gave her a bright smile. “Well I suppose I can try really hard to come up with a few meaningful suggestions.”

Rolling her eyes at your words, Agatha shook her head. “Try not to make me regret my decision, dear. Take a seat a few rows back, I’ll be starting rehearsal soon.”

Sure enough, just as you took your seat Agatha had the orchestra tuning before instructing them to start at the beginning of the first movement of the Dvorak. You loved every movement of Dvorak Symphony No. 9, and while you adored the fourth movement, there was something quite special about the first. There was this beautiful building intensity that started in the strings before slowly rising to include the entire ensemble. It was passionate, colorful, and left you eager for more.

As much as you loved performing, and you did more than anything, you found yourself enjoying getting to observe the rehearsal from your seat in the audience. It allowed you to focus on so much more than when you would be sitting in the first violin section. Before you never saw how Jimmy appears to have his entire part memorized since he usually has his eyes locked on Agatha the entire time. Or how talented Darcy was. You knew she had to be a good percussionist to be subbing for the MSO, but she performed with so much energy you found it hard to tear your eyes away from her.

Then there was Agatha. The conductor appeared lost in the music as she mindlessly conducted, but you swore you never saw anything more beautiful. Every single time you had the privilege of watching her conduct you swore she kept finding new ways to draw you in. How someone could make the simple movements with a baton and her hand so enticing. She had so much energy in her while conducting, and the love she had for the music was so clear in her eyes. What was even more fascinating to you was how easily the rest of the orchestra seemed to follow her. All of her cues were perfect, and she never missed a downbeat. She was by far the best conductor you had ever seen and you would never tire of getting to see this side of her.

The movement progressed and you turned your attention to the first violin section. Monica was was entirely in her element, and you immediately felt a slight pang at not being next to her on stage. You had a few stand partners who had been lovely over the years but Monica was better than all of them combined. She was so precise in her playing, and her technique was absolutely flawless. But what made Monica so unique was how genuinely kind she was. A lot of violinists were so focused on their craft it didn’t matter who they stepped on to get their way, but it was clear Monica didn’t play by those rules.

As you felt your eyes wander, they landed on the new violinist. John Walker. He was...good. The egomaniac violinist inside of you wanted to argue that you were better, but you shoved those comments away. For one thing he used far too much bow on his tremolos, and you were worried he was going to send his bow flying across the stage with the way he was holding it. Then there was his posture, he sat so rigid in his seat. After a few moments, you realized you were sounding more and more like Agatha.

Tearing your eyes away from the first violin section, you wrote down a few notes on sound quality throughout the movement and forced yourself to stay focused. The movement progressed and you couldn’t help but note how good the orchestra was sounding. Granted Agatha ran them hard, but it was clearly paying off. They were good before, but they were finally playing with more of a purpose. Unfortunately, you didn’t think Agatha felt the same was. As soon as the final chord rang out, the conductor whipped her baton on her stand, and you could tell she was angry.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Agatha spat out as she flipped through her score. “That was the saddest attempt of Dvorak I have ever heard in all my years of conducting. I’ve worked with youth symphonies who sounded better than all of you combined.”

Personally you felt Agatha was exaggerating a tad, but you watched her continue to rant.

“Woo, your projection is eons better than before but I still need more,” Agatha called out to the winds section, and you saw Jimmy shoot up in his seat as the conductor called his name. From the percussion section, Darcy also appeared to notice Jimmy’s change in posture and she glanced over and shook her head at you.

“If the rest of you could play as well as Woo I doubt we would be having this conversation but alas,” Agatha sighed, before tapping her baton on the stand. “Flutes, I’m starting to wonder if all of you are deaf or just enjoy the sound of my voice berating you, because what the hell was that? Jones, all of your solos are splitting my brain open. Either work on your intonation and have it fixed by tomorrow morning or I’ll be moving you to second chair.”

Dottie slouched in her seat and you bit your lip. Agatha had lost her temper before during rehearsal but this was slowly starting to get worse.

“I don’t have to time to rerun all of this because we have the idi-Miss Maximoff joining us shortly, but please turn your attention to measure seventy-five,” Agatha instructed the ensemble, before turning her attention to the first violins. “First violins, I need this melody to be sweet and light as we begin, don’t give me too much too soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the new violinist raise his bow to ask a question. Oh good. That would definitely end well...Agatha continued rambling on about vibrato and tone, seemingly unaware of the violinist and a part of you hoped perhaps he would simply move on and ask the question later. But it appeared he was the persistent type as he cleared his throat to get the conductor’s attention. Although you were positive Agatha heard him, you were a few rows back and the sound was clear as day, she continued her rant, ignoring him completely. At this point the rest of the orchestra seemed aware of what was going on and everyone seemed to be waiting for Agatha to acknowledge him.

“Maestra? I had a question,” The violinist’s voice boomed through the hall, and you internally winced as you watched Agatha whip her head to look at him.

“Ah yes, our new addition,” Agatha said briefly, as she eyed the violinist. “John Walker, is it?”

He nodded. “I hate to interrupt Maestra-“

Agatha cut him off, appearing to grow more uninterested with every word that came out of his mouth. “Yet you still proceed to act like a privileged toddler to get my attention, so please, Walker, what is it?”

“I merely wanted to suggest a different approach to measure seventy-five,” John explained and he had far too much cockiness for your liking. “I know you feel it’s best to take a softer approach, I was always told to start with a bigger sound then slowly decrescendo. It’s just a suggestion.”

There was another pause as Agatha stared at the violinist with a calculating and cold stare. A part of you wondered if this would be the day she finally snapped and whipped her baton at someone. You had heard rumors of a betting pool the interns had on when Agatha would inevitably strangle someone for making her too angry. You had thought they were being a bit drastic at the time, but seeing the way she was looking at Walker was making you reconsider that.

“Thank you for sharing your very generous suggestions with us, Mr. Walker,” Agatha replied, and there was emphasis on the word suggestions. “I’m not sure if you are aware of where you are, but this is my orchestra.”

John frowned at that, and once again unwisely opened his mouth. “Maestra, I wasn’t attempting to overstep. I just thought I would offer my opinion on how to make the section stronger.”

“Ah yes, my mistake. I must have forgot when I asked for your opinion,” Agatha retorted. her temper appearing to grow more and more heated. “Would you like to offer any other suggestions, Walker? I’m positive the entire orchestra is simply dying to hear your words of wisdom.”

This time John remained silent, but you saw how darker his appearance grew at being called out in front of the entire orchestra. Agatha appeared satisfied by that and she tapped her baton against the stand again. “Lovely to see the newbie catching on. Measure seventy-five.”

The rehearsal of Dvorak continued to drag, and you marked a few notes for suggestions like Agatha had asked you to. You would occasionally check the clock, wondering when Wanda would be arriving since the orchestra was set to rehearse Rachmaninoff at 8:30 sharp. Eventually the doors to the hall opened, but instead of Wanda entering the room it was one of the interns Agatha hadn’t managed to scare away during her early reign of terror. The intern appeared nervous about something, who knows what, and they quickly sought you out.

“Y/N, you have to tell Maestra Harkness that Miss Maximoff won’t be attending rehearsal this evening,” the intern told you, and it looked like they were going to pass out from the fear of having to tell Agatha.

“Wanda’s not coming to rehearsal?” You asked curiously.

The intern quickly nodded. “She’s sick.”

Sick? You had just seen the pianist a couple hours ago and she appeared fine, but maybe she just came down with something. Giving the intern a small smile, you stood up. “I’ll tell Maestra, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” the intern said sincerely. “I’m pretty sure if I tell her she’ll find a way to fire me.”

The intern hurried back out of the hall and you slowly made your way to the front of the stage, hoping Agatha would call for the orchestra to take a break so you could make your move. With there only being a few rehearsals left until opening night you knew the absence of a soloist would send the conductor over the edge. But hopefully her strong dislike of Wanda would lighten the blow. As if the two of you were telepathically connected, Agatha turned around as you approached the stage and signaled for the orchestra to stop.

“Let’s take ten,” Agatha instructed them. “Have Rachmaninoff ready by the time we come back.”

The musicians all but hurried off the stage, and said hello to the few you had gotten to know over the past few weeks. Darcy caught your eye as she walked down the stairs and motioned her head to where John Walker was standing by his case, rolling her eyes in the process. You swallowed the laughter that threatened to escape as you went to join Agatha on stage. It didn’t take the older woman long to realize something was wrong.

“If you’re going to say I was being too hard on Walker, don’t,” Agatha quietly warned you, and it was apparent she was still fuming.

“I need you to promise me that you’re not going to throw a temper tantrum after I tell you this,” you said, and your tone was light, but Agatha gave you a look.

“I do not throw temper tantrums,” the conductor hissed as you motioned for her to follow you backstage.

“Of course not, Maestra. Your outbursts are completely normal for a woman of your-“ you quickly paused as Agatha arched an eyebrow at you, clearly unamused.

“My what, darling?” Agatha questioned, giving you an unconvincing glare as you laughed.

“Your stature,” you corrected yourself.

“You’re on thin ice,” the conductor warned you. “I’m not sure I like how easily you tease me.”

“Coming from the woman who’s done nothing but tease me since we met I think it’s only fair,” you offered, and Agatha smirked. “But really, please don’t freak out.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I’ll have no choice but to tie you up and force the words out of you myself,” Agatha mused, causing you to blush, which made her smirk grow wider. “Ah, do you like the sound of that, darling?”

“The rest of the orchestra is only a few feet away,” you warned her as she took a step closer to you. “If our relationship is supposed to stay private wouldn’t it be a bit unwise to...”

“Oh no, dear, don’t stop using your words now,” Agatha practically purred, she closed the distance between you, lightly shoving you against the wall. “We’re just getting started.”

“Agatha, I really think maybe we should do this somewhere-“ you began to say, and you truly had every intention of trying to be the rational one here, but any remaining brain function you had left was erased as Agatha’s lips began trailing up your neck, occasionally stoping to nip at skin. “Agatha...”

“Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Agatha whispered against your ear, the warm air of her breath sending tingles down your spine. “Or do I need to encourage you a bit more?”

“I don’t know how you doing this is supposed to encourage me to talk,” you argued, and bit back a moan as the conductor bit down on your earlobe.

“I’m just trying to help, darling,” Agatha insisted, pulling you impossibly closer to her as you were pressed against the wall. “I can help even more if you would like.”

“Wanda’s not coming to rehearsal,” you finally managed to let out with a gasp, and Agatha paused her movements at that.

“Darling, I know I’m a bit distracted but I believe you just said the Sokovian dingbat won’t be at rehearsal,” Agatha said slowly, as if she was trying to wrap her brain around what you just said.

Unwrapping yourself from the conductor, you nodded, trying to gauge her reaction. “She’s sick so she won’t be in attendance today.”

Agatha scoffed, shaking her head at your words. “Wanda Maximoff doesn’t get sick and miss rehearsal. I was-I worked with her long enough to know that.”

“Well that’s what personnel told me, so I’m not sure what to tell you,” you said, and you found yourself stuck on what Agatha had almost said. What wasn’t she telling you?

The conductor took a moment to pull her phone out of her pocket and her frown deepened even more. “Oh for the love of...” Agatha trailed off before whipping her phone against the wall, shattering it in the process.

You jumped at the sound, but Agatha barely seemed to notice you as she was entirely too lost in her thoughts. “Agatha, what’s wrong?”

“Cancel the rest of rehearsal,” Agatha said dismissively as she straightened her sweater. “Those idiots are infuriating me far too much and without Wanda we won’t make any progress on the Rachmaninoff.”

Gaping at her, you took a moment to process what she said. “You’ve never cancelled rehearsal before. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Now, Y/N. I have something I need to do,” Agatha said before storming out of the room, leaving you alone.

To say the MSO musicians were relieved Agatha had cancelled the remaining two hours of rehearsal would have been a vast understatement. You swore you never saw half of them move so quickly when you gave them the okay to leave. Since Agatha had apparently left for the day, you took the liberty of grabbing her belongings and dropped them off in her office on your way out. It wasn’t out of character for Agatha to lose her temper, you had grown used to her yelling and ranting. But her outburst backstage was unlike anything you had ever seen before. There was something the conductor wasn’t telling you, and while you had no idea what it was there was a sinking feeling in your chest that it had something to do with Wanda. Regardless of how curious, and anxious, you were over Agatha’s abrupt exit, you knew there was no good in worrying. She would tell you what was wrong...right?

It had been two days since you heard from Agatha. You received a call from management personnel early Saturday morning informing you that the conductor had cancelled all weekend rehearsals due to a stomach bug, which made you immediately go to call her until you remembered she left her shattered phone backstage. It wasn’t unusual for you to go a day without hearing from Agatha, the conductor valued her privacy and you respected her enough to give her what she needed. But after the practical smothering you had received from the older woman since the blind audition, it left you with a gut feeling that you had done something wrong.

What were the odds that Agatha was sick mere hours after storming out of rehearsal? They were slim, and it didn’t take a genius to tell you that. You had told Sam and Bucky what happened, and while they thought it was suspicious they also agreed that giving Agatha space would be the smartest move. Rationally speaking you knew that everything was fine, it just would have been nice to have received confirmation from the woman you were worrying so much about.

It had been a long time since you last had a Saturday off, so you spent your weekend watching Disney movies and napping while trying your best to keep your mind off Agatha. In fact you had been so distracted with the radio silence from the conductor that you almost forgot about Natasha Romanov and Vienna. The keyword being almost. You knew you needed to make a decision on if you were going to meet with the violinist, and you needed to make one soon. There was no guarantee Natasha would even choose you for her group, but still you found yourself imagining a world where you were performing in Vienna and finally getting to live your dreams. Only those dreams seemed somewhat bittersweet at the prospect of having them without Agatha. It was cliche being this attached this soon, but you couldn’t help it. You had never felt this strongly for anyone you dated before, there was something so different about Agatha that kept drawing you in.

Would it be fair to her if you moved to another continent when you were just starting your relationship? You knew she was concerned you would leave the Symphony after not getting the chair placement. While she had never directly told you, it was what made the most sense when considering her recent behavior. You didn’t want to leave her, you really didn’t. Agatha had given you so much while asking for nothing in return.

But the voice in your head asked if it was fair for you to stay somewhere you wouldn’t be happy. Would you grow to resent your job, or Agatha by association by remaining on as her assistant? Sam had been right when he said there were other jobs in New York City, but you knew nothing here would compare to the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra. While quitting would allow the two of you to date publicly, maybe, it would also ruin any chance you still had of hoping to join the MSO. Was that something you were willing to sacrifice? You had a lot you needed to consider, you just wished Agatha was there to help you.

Monday morning came far too quickly for your liking. You were anxious to see Agatha, to make sure she was okay, but you also had to make up your mind on whether to meet with Natasha Romanov. Wanda had sent you a polite, but short, email late Sunday night asking if you made a decision or not. You were still just as torn as you had been all weekend, and sadly this was a decision only you could make for yourself. As you exited the coffee shop, you were slightly surprised to see Agatha’s car waiting for you. The rear window was rolled down and Agatha had her gaze fixated on yours. Giving her a small smile, you approached the car while balancing both coffees.

“Good morning Maestra. Fancy seeing you here.”

Agatha rolled her eyes before helping open the door. “Yes yes, good morning dear. Please hurry up and get in before I have Hank leave without you.”

“You’re in a mood today,” you said lightly after making yourself comfortable in the vehicle. “Rough weekend?”

Agatha grimaced at your choice of words before shrugging. “Oh it was fine. A lot better since I didn’t have to hear those morons butcher Dvorak on Saturday.”

You gave her a look as you motioned to your coffee. “Oh right, your stomach bug? Maybe this won’t sit well then, should I give it to Hank?”

The conductor all but snatched the coffee out of your hands, glaring at you. “Funny, as always darling. I’m feeling much better now.”

So she was sticking with the sick story. As much as you wanted to press and find out why she stormed out of rehearsal so suddenly, you thought it best to not start a possible argument this early in the morning. Besides, Agatha wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You decided to take the safe approach. “Well I should probably keep my distance in case you’re still contagious. Wouldn’t want to catch anything.”

“If that’s what you think best, dear,” Agatha replied. “I would hate to get you sick.”

That’s how things remained the rest of the day. Agatha was clearly not over whatever upset her on Friday, and it appeared she wasn’t willing to share her troubles with you. So you did what you did best, and ignored the persistent voice begging you to talk to her. You busied yourself with various tasks both in and out of the conductor’s office. Opening night was in two weeks and there was much to do still. Even though Agatha had promised to be nicer to the interns, it appeared her generosity had run out as you began counting the number of crying individuals sent running from her office since lunch. Her mood was only growing more and more unstable as the hours passed, and even you found being in her company to be slightly unbearable. Agatha was clearly stressed, and you understood she was under a lot of pressure, you just wish she thought of healthier outlets to relieve it.

Towards the end of the day you received yet another polite, yet persistent email from Wanda and you knew the time had come. On one hand you wanted to ask Agatha’s opinion on the potential job, for you valued her opinion over anyone else’s. But the fear of a fight, especially over something involving Wanda, was enough to make you realize now was not the right time to bring up a potential move to Vienna. Plus you were only meeting with Natasha, it wasn’t like she was going to offer you a job on sight. There would be little to no harm in setting up a meeting. Then you could talk to Agatha.

Satisfied with your decision, you sent a quick reply to Wanda stating you would be interested in meeting with Natasha before heading back to Agatha’s office. Hopefully the conductor had enough time to cool down to consider leaving work within the next few hours. However, when you opened the door you were surprised to find her hunched over her desk, eyes locked on her laptop. She didn’t appear to hear you enter, and a part of you wondered if you should leave and come back later. Ultimately deciding that you would stay, you lightly knocked on the door to attempt to draw her attention away from the screen. It worked, only when she finally looked at you, you saw something unfamiliar in her eyes. Fear.

“Y/N...” Agatha trailed off, and you could practically see the frown lines become embedded in her skin.

“Agatha?” You barely recognized the sound of your own voice as you approached the conductor. “What’s wrong?”

Before the conductor could reply, your phone began to repeatedly ding. Pulling it out of your pocket you felt your heart sink at the notification. You had several texts from Sam, Bucky, Monica, even Darcy, but what caught your eye was an article from The New York Times.

‘Agatha All Along? An Inside Scoop to the Alleged Affair Between MSO Conductor Agatha Harkness and Concert Pianist Wanda Maximoff’

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness #agatha wandavision #agatha harkness x you #wandavision #wandavision au

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tpwkay · 3 years

Text

Medicine (h.s.)

You’re finally given permission to cover the song you’ve wanted to perform for years and a special surprise during your performance sweeps you off of your feet.

Word count: 11.5k

Rating/warnings: NSFW - A lot of this is plot but there is smut as well. Contains explicit language and consensual sex acts between a man and woman. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! Author’s note can be found at the end!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for coming out tonight to listen to me and the band. We've got a couple more songs coming up for you but I just wanted to take a minute to tell y'all how much we appreciate you." You gesture to yourself and the band behind you as the lights on stage come up a bit. "We wouldn't be where we are without your support. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you!"

The crowd cheers and you can't help but experience an insurmountable feeling of joy. It never gets old. You'd been in the spotlight for a few years now, already at the end of touring your second album, though the size and scope of venues this time around was much, much larger. There was nothing that compared to being able to sing your own songs and have a crowd of thousands scream them right back at you.

Being an up-and-coming singer and songwriter in the genre of country music hadn't been easy. Girls your type had been a dime a dozen, hoards of Taylor Swift-wannabes covering "Teardrops on My Guitar" during open mic night. You held nothing against them; there was a path to success for everyone, but yours had been, well, different.

It was a karaoke cover of Brooks & Dunn's "Boot Scootin' Boogie", a song that you'd been singing since you were a toddler, that had gotten you noticed by a recording artist one night while out with your girlfriends, which led you to where you stand now, performing in front of thousands. You were liked for the range of your voice, with it's easy easy transitions from the sounds of pop to country and rock, in addition to the way you performed, and your take-no-shit attitude towards the entirety of the industry. People liked that you were forward and left nothing on the table, though you had to admit that it was mostly an act, a means of coping with the pressure of working your way to the top.

///

"It's refreshing!" Jax, your manager, had shouted one day, arms flailing as you had argued that maybe your attitude was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Aren't you, as, you know, my manager, supposed to be the one keeps me in line?"

"You aren't out doing coke, killing anyone, public indecency and all that," he had shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, you are in line. People talk about you because of your attitude. They like it! They like you. Why is that so hard for you to accept sometimes?"

"Maybe I just haven't been caught doing those things," you grinned, effectively dodging his question. Fame hadn't helped break down the walls that you'd long ago built around yourself. If anything, you had done some reinforcing, built a moat even, in an effort to ensure that you protected yourself from getting too close to anyone that would only end up using you in the end. You had seen the way people in life had been used, and what it ultimately led them to, and you had promised yourself long ago that even if it meant being known as the Boot Scootin' Bitch, you would protect yourself and your heart at all costs.

"Your momma would tan your hide for much less than any of those, you know. Hell, you should be more afraid of her than you are of me or anyone else… 'cept maybe God."

///

You shake your head, working the memories free from your mind as you grab a bottle of water from the platform on which the drum set rests.

There's one more song of yours to sing before you performed a new cover, the one you had been looking forward to for months. Although you'd gotten permission to perform it not long into the start of your tour, the set list had been rehearsed already and every other detail ironed out around it. You'd convinced Jax and the crew to let you slot it into the last concert of the tour, Austin, Texas. These folks knew their music and for some reason, they liked you so you were thrilled to be able to share something new with the crowd that had welcomed you to their city with open arms.

You grab your guitar off its stand and slide the strap over your shoulders, adjusting it as you step forwards to the mic stand. A shimmering blue shirt catches your eye in the crowd and you do a double take because surely it can't be Harry because he's—

And it's not him, of course, though the fashion of the gentleman in the pit area would surely catch his eye as well as it's right up his alley. It's not him - it can't be him - because you know exactly where he is right now and it's not in the pit of your Austin performance.

A grin stretches over your face as you think of him. You strum the first chord of the first song you'd ever written about him, although there had been many more since. He probably knew this one was about him, having come just after your first meeting.

///

A friend of yours was good friends with Kacey, who had been the guest artist that night. Her name had been added to the VIP list and in the summer of 2018, just as you were hitting your own stride in your career, you tagged along with her to Harry Styles' live tour performance in your hometown of Nashville.

If you were being honest, prior to his concert, you hadn't heard much of his solo work, apart from the various huge hits like his Kiwi or Watermelon Sugar and a few other ballads. You liked his sound, seemingly influenced heavily by rock stars of days past, but you'd had other influences to worry about in your own side of the industry.

Sure, he had country music connections through the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Cam, and legends like Stevie Nicks, but his pop and soft rock style was pretty far removed from most country playlists that you yourself had graced. Your genres just didn't cross paths and the two of you seemingly operated in different realms of the music industry, topping your own charts and breaking your own peer's records.

Of course, you hadn't been completely oblivious to The Harry Styles. One Direction had been too big of a deal to ignore and you'd often found yourself bopping along to their old hits, singing along as they played amongst the other nostalgic pop hits to which you listened.

The concert had been in June, a hot sunny day followed by a perfect breezy evening. Downtown Nashville was always busy, but that night the city seemed to buzz, bright with music and life. After meeting for drinks at Acme on the River, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in getting lost in the crowd that milled about on Broadway. It was a surprising thing to not be recognized in your hometown, but you weren't one to complain about it. It was one reason that you value your time in Nashville over other music-centric cities like Los Angeles - it seemed that people here respected the private lives of musicians. There was an odd fan here and there, but you'd lived a majority of your "famous" life in Nashville in relative peace.

You were early to the venue, your friend having wanted to have a chance to see Kacey backstage. You were excited to finally meet the star - though you'd been around the block of fame a bit already, there would always be people that you never had an opportunity to meet in passing. You had been greeted at will call and had been led backstage.

The arena was alive with excitement. At that point, you yourself had never toured a venue that large, so the experience of being backstage and seeing the operations first hand were thrilling and a bit overwhelming. In her dressing room, Kacey pulled you straight into a hug, gushing about how excited she was to watch your career take off. She insisted on sharing her personal cell phone number with you, urging you to call her to get together on a collaboration. You were in shock leaving her room, blown away by her kindness and the way the music industry worked in the most bizarre of ways, when you turned a corner and ran smack into a tall, solid, smiling Harry Styles. His arms had come out quickly to steady you on your heels boots.

"Fuck," you swore, shaking your head at your clumsiness. "I am so sorry. What a great way to introduce myself."

He laughed and the sound flowed through you, warm and sweet like a cup of tea with honey. "Y'alright?" His eyes looked you over, and you couldn't help but notice the way they lingered.

Your cheeks blushed and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm the one that should be asking you that. I don't think your adoring fans would be very happy if I took you out with a textbook tackle right before you're due to go on stage." You took a moment to give him the same appreciative glance he had already given you, admiring the way his deep blue custom-beaded suit jacket fell open to reveal a black dress shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

"Ah, 'm fine. Lil' thing like you couldn't do too much damage to me, even in those heels. Don't think they'd be very happy though," he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the already-rowdy crowd while offering his hand. "I'm Harry."

You laughed as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand.

"I've heard that name before, but I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you. You don't seem like one that's easy to forget."

"I sing, write music," you shrugged, not sure how to explain to a superstar that you were on the way up, yet still somewhere much farther down the fame totem pole than him. "Country, mostly. Not sure if that's on your radar."

"The new stuff's not, but I may have to change that." He was tapped by one of the event producers, needed for another pre-show procedure. "Where will you be tonight?"

"To your right, in the pit."

He smiled and you had almost immediately fallen in love with the crinkles that appeared under the corners of his eyes. "I'll look out for you. It was wonderful meeting you. Oh, shit, wait, just remembered— may I?" he gestured for the phone that was in your hand and you unlocked it before passing it to him.

You watched as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. He paused for a moment before he grinned. "Hi Harry, it's you from before the show. This is a message to remind you to text this number and ask the owner of it out on a date. She's the one with the beautiful smile and great tackling skills. You won"t have forgotten her. 'Kay, bye!"

You laughed at an almost embarrassing volume, blown away by his cheek.

"Why not ask 'her' out now?" you pondered to him as he handed the phone back.

"What, and risk getting shot down? Wouldn't want to be sad and disappointed through my whole show, now would I?"

"It would make the ballads a bit more emotional," you had reasoned with a grin.

"Ouch! They're already filled with emotion, love. You'll see, I'll sing 'em right to you if I have to. Gotta run, thank you for letting me use your phone, that was a very important message!"

You laughed again as he took off. "Harry!" you had shouted to get his attention in the busy hall. He turned quickly, a small smile on his face. "She definitely won't say no, but you can wait until later to ask if you want to."

His grin stretched wider and he'd pumped a fist in the air before turning and jogging down the hallway.

You liked to joke with anyone who knew the story that your life had changed that day all because you met Kacey. Which wasn't a complete lie - it had been her dressing room you'd come out of before slamming into Harry in the hallway.

///

Singing the last lines of one of your songs, your stomach began to flutter in a bit of nervousness and a lot of excitement. Performing the next cover was something you had been looking forward to for months, and the moment that you got to share it with your fans was finally here.

You retreat from the mic stand to pass your guitar off to a stagehand, taking another sip of water to settle yourself.

"Doing alright?" Wyatt, your drummer, shouts over the pounding bass drum and you give him a thumbs up before turning back to face the crowd.

"I've got one more cover to play for y'all tonight," you say, grasping the mic stand to keep your hands from shaking. "I've been working on getting permission to play this one for quite awhile now. I fell in love with it the first time I heard it played and now here I am, performing it for you all. It's an unreleased piece by a very, very good friend of mine, but his performances of it are all over the internet so some of you may know the words. This song is called Medicine."

The song starts out with a steady bass line and the rhythm centers you a bit, steadying any nerves that still linger. The intro gives you a minute to shake out your shoulders and get comfortable at the mic stand once more like Harry does at each performance. You catch yourself having fun mimicking him and feel thankful that you're able to perform one of your favorite songs of his. When the bass drops in pitch and the electric guitar riffs, you slide in close to the mic stand.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine," you sang the opening lines, already settling into the sexy rock sound of the song you and the band had rehearsed relentlessly over the last few weeks. No, the genre wasn't one you normally dabbled in, but part of the fun of performing was taking chances, risks. You had to admit, you liked the sound a lot. It tempted you to branch out a bit more on your upcoming album.

The opening lines of the first verse throw you back into thoughts of meeting Harry that first night. You hadn't imagined what would follow the concert, let alone have the foresight to see it bringing you to this very moment in time.

///

You had been standing outside the arena after the concert, ears buzzing and heart thumping still from the incredible show Harry had put on. As soon as he disappeared from the backstage hall earlier, you had immediately saved his number to your phone, still in disbelief over the night's events.

Your heart had soared when your phone began to vibrate, not in a text message but in a voice call. Harry's name appeared on the screen and your friend had nudged you, clearly approving of the night's turn of events.

"Harry," you answered, ready to praise him halfway to Sunday on his performance.

"Let me take you out," he interrupted you. "Right now. Please? Anywhere you want to go."

You laughed and paused. "Yeah, okay. I might know of a place."

There was a lot of shuffling on his end before his voice came back on the line. "Might've had to do another fist pump."

"Told you she wouldn't say no."

"Where are you?" You heard the smile in his voice, already familiar with it.

"Demonbreun and John Lewis, headed towards the park."

"Give me 10, I'll pick you up." He paused. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'll stick with the hoards of your fans milling about, maybe ask some of them for the hot gossip on you while I wait."

"Don't believe anything they say," he said, and you could tell he was still smiling as he hung up.

He and his driver arrived shortly after, Harry's hair damp and covered with a baseball cap, dressed down in black pants and a simple loose white shirt, tattoos peeking out everywhere you looked. He exited the car and opened the back door for you, helping you balance as you stepped up into the large Suburban.

"We'll go to Pecker's," you said to his driver, laughing as Harry snorted next to you. "Shut up, it's just a bar. Take a right up here onto 24 and it'll take us all the way to Fairfield. It'll be on the right."

He looked at you and smiled before reaching out to hold your hand in the middle seat between you.

Taking Harry to Pecker's had just felt right. It was where you'd been discovered, where all of your adventures had started, and you weren't sure why but you wanted to share that small part of you with him after watching him up on stage that night.

"Won't people recognize you? I looked you up before the show, you're apparently a pretty big deal around here." He had asked, smirking, sipping on the locally-brewed beer that Clint, the regular bartender, was serving that night.

"Locals are pretty good about not interrupting our normal lives. Pecker's isn't as well known to tourists either, so it's a good hideout. This is where a lot of producers, executives and all the other professionals come to unwind." You ignored his comment on your fame and had taken a sip of your margarita instead. "Unless, of course, there's a drag show scheduled, then it's a bit of a madhouse."

Harry laughs into his drink and you grin. "So," he started after a pause, twiddling with the rings on his right hand. "What'd you think?"

"It was incredible," you said without hesitation. "Truly one of the best live shows I've seen in a long time, country acts included. You've got such a magnetism about you that people can't help but want to watch." You blushed a bit, alcohol and the quick comfort of him loosening your lips. "The whole water spraying trick was hot," you admit, making him blush. "And don't tell Stevie, but I think I might prefer your version of The Chain."

"Sacrilege! That's some incredibly high praise," he said, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

"Earned and deserved," you said, tilting your glass to his. "Honestly, Harry, you're an incredible musician. There aren't many out there that have the whole package like that."

"What about you? You seem like the whole package."

"I don't know if I'd say that. If you looked me up, you've likely seen what they say about me. 'My attitude won't get me far' and all. But I don't think it's my attitude, so much as it is my willingness to take the risks that others won't. I'm not out here to make music that's just there to be sold. Hell, I couldn't care less about the money. All I want is to create music that makes me feel fulfilled, and I think that honesty scares them." You twirled your finger in the condensation of the glass in front of you. You glanced up to his face finding his eyes already on yours, holding your gaze steadily. "It doesn't scare you, does it?"

"It's the most refreshing thing I've heard in a while. Not many people in the industry are fearless in the face of failure like that."

"I'm definitely not fearless; I just refuse to change who I am to make a buck."

"Who are you then?" Harry had asked, and telling him your story was easy. You couldn't understand how it was so natural, opening up to a stranger, but as the conversation wore on, you realized how similar you and Harry were in terms of the way you conducted your professional lives and that was without apology.

And you also realized, as the evening continued and you and Harry crept your bar stools closer and closer to one another, feet and knees bumping, his fingers tracing the ridges of your knuckles as you shared life stories like long lost friends, that you didn't want it to end.

///

"He's acting like a gentleman," you continue, changing up the lyrics slightly as you finish the first verse. The line always made you smile and you let yourself briefly flash back into your reminiscing about the night you'd met Harry, and how, even though he had acted gentlemanly upon dropping you off for the evening, you wanted to be anything but a gentlewoman.

///

After enjoying drinks late into the evening at Pecker's, Harry had insisted on having his driver take you home rather than allowing you to call an Uber.

"Such a gentleman," you commented as he opened the car door for you once again.

"Maybe my gentlemanly actions have motives," he said, sliding his hand along your lower back as you step past him and into the car. Your grin matched his smirk as he shut the door and you decided that he'd been right - not calling an Uber was the right thing to do.

The car ride back to your apartment building was too quick and before you knew it, he was at your door again, offering a hand for you to hold for balance as you exited the car. Neither of you let go as you walked through the lobby towards the elevators.

"You're uh— You're welcome to come up, if you'd like," you said, suddenly shy but not wanting to chicken out on asking for what you wanted, asking for some continuation of this sweet but likely brief meeting between you two. "For a drink, I mean, or to keep chatting, you know."

Harry smiled and glanced around the empty lobby. His hand in yours smoothed up the length of your arm, over your shoulder, and came to rest at your jaw. "I'd love to, believe me. You have no idea how much I want to." He leaned towards you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and your skin burned at the contact of his lips. "But I want to do this the right way. Don't want you to get the wrong idea of me."

"What if I want the wrong idea of you?"

He laughed, the sound open and honest and it had given you hope. "You called me a gentleman earlier and I have to admit that I liked it, coming from you. Would like to keep up the facade that I am, even if it's just for a bit." His face searched yours, each of you trying to read the thoughts that were flying through one another's minds. "You have beautiful lips," he whispered suddenly, his accent thicker than it had been all night.

Your mouth quirked into a smile, unable to do anything but preen at his compliment. "You do too," you replied, just as softly.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes." Before the words had settled he was kissing you, slowly and with too much care, like you would break if he wasn't gentle enough. It was over much too quick but you knew you would remember every moment of it for the rest of your life.

"Christ, I'd wanted to do that all night." His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, smiling when you leaned into the touch. He glanced up as the elevator doors swung open and gently nudged you towards them. "Thank you, truly, for a wonderful evening. I promise to give you a call soon."

"I'll send Kacey after you if you don't!" you laughed, stepping into the lift.

"Good night darling." He winked and the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the delicious ghost of his lips on yours.

///

"Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with you," you finish the first verse as Ryann rips through the chords on her guitar. You loved that the song built slowly, and even though that meant a quieter beginning, it promised an explosive end.

Though the crowd had been hesitant at first, you can see that the first few rows of them are nodding along, countless phones out recording the performance. You know that somewhere out there at your request is a member of your press team, professionally filming the cover. You may only be doing it once, but you were determined to make sure you would never forget it.

///

You had enough time at home to check some of your social media accounts, shower and get comfortable in bed before your phone rang again. For the second time that day, your heart soared seeing Harry's name light up your screen.

"If you're going to say that you're downstairs because you've reconsidered my offer for that nightcap, I'll need a few moments to prepare as I'm currently in my pajamas," you said as a greeting and you were met with his warm laughter once again.

"No, no, I had to go back to the arena for a bit anyways, pack up and all of that," he said, still chuckling. "I just— I wanted to make sure you weren't offended by me declining your offer. Because I wanted to— I didn't want the night to end there. There's something about you that's… Transfixing. And I don't want to ruin that and make you think you're just a fling."

"That's quite a compliment," you said, a bit awed by his words.

"What was it you said earlier, "earned and deserved", yeah?" He said, quoting your toast to him at the bar, making you grin. "I want you to be more than that. I'd like to get to know you, the gentlemanly way."

"Okay. Will we have a chaperone at our next date then?" He laughed but didn't correct your referral to that evening as a date. You had snuggled a bit deeper into the sheets, still disbelieving that all of this had been the result of being dragged along to a concert.

"No chaperones," he chuckled, "but yes, I do want to take you out again, if you'd let me."

"Hmm," you jokingly pondered aloud, as if answering with anything other than a resounding "yes" was on your mind. "I suppose I could fit something into my schedule."

"I hope that's a yes."

"Of course it's a yes! I didn't want the night to end either. And don't you dare say that you just did another fist pump," you had laughed, hearing the familiar shuffling of the phone on his end of the line.

"Me? Never!"

"You're adorable," you had said, a smile stuck on your face.

"And you're beautiful. Two can play this game."

There had been a comforting silence between you for a moment before you had spoken up again. "Harry?"

"Yeah, love?"

You had blushed at the pet name but loved the way it sounded being directed your way. "Thank you," you had whispered.

"Should be me thanking you. Sleep well sweetheart." You'd fallen asleep with your phone in hand, hopeful that you wouldn't wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a dream.

///

It hadn't been a dream, and here you were, nearly two years later, performing one of the songs that Harry himself had sung the night that you'd begun falling for him.

The second verse continued quickly and you let the lyrics wash over you as you sang, loving the way the rock energy of the song sounded with a bit of your band's country influence.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips," you sang, holding your pointer finger in the air much like Harry did every time he performed the song before bringing it to your lips as you sang the next line. "Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out."

///

Beginning to date Harry - properly date him too, not just make FaceTime calls to one another from across the world and sending texts back and forth until the wee hours of the morning thanks to the differences in time zones, sharing everything and more with one another as best you could digitally - had been the most exhilarating experience of your life, and you had performed in front of sold out crowds and accepted awards on live television. His tour was due to stretch on for almost another month throughout North America and the next time you saw him was when you'd been invited as Harry's guest to his show in Chicago just a few weeks after you'd met.

While he had put on an incredible show for the United Center, there had been moments that felt like he was performing just for you, glancing over to where you stood in the Friends and Family area, meeting your eyes and grinning. By that point, you could sing along to every song of his and you knew he loved it, loved watching you dance along to the music that he had created and was performing.

In a moment where you were thankful for the differences between the genres in which you two performed, you hadn't been recognized at all by his fans. You'd both talked about wanting to keep things quiet as you got to know one another, and you hadn't wanted a relationship with him, an already incredibly famous artist, to somehow influence the trajectory of yours. While it had been easy when you were apart, being together without seemingly being together was difficult. Especially in that moment, when all you wanted to do was curl up into him and soak in the post-show bliss with him. Instead, you sat on the couch with him, a cushion apart from one another, holding his hand tightly while you chatted about the concert.

"Someone is gonna notice that you looked to my side of the pit constantly all night," you said and he grinned guiltily.

"I like knowing you're in the crowd," he shrugged. "Besides," he scooted closer and threw his arm around you before dragging you in close, "you look incredible, how could I not want to stare at you all night?"

"Anyone could walk in," you pointed out, watching as his eyes followed your lips.

"Just want a little taste," he said, moving in closer, "Haven't I earned a kiss from my girlfriend after all of that work up on stage?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked at him and he seemingly realized his slip-up.

"I mean— What I meant was— Shit," he scrubbed a hand over his face but you could tell he was hiding a grin. "Wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you, but… Will you officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, H. I'm all yours."

"Love it when you call me H." He pulled you in for a kiss that you both lost yourselves in, finally able to experience the feeling of one another after being denied it for so long. When a knock at the dressing room door came, Harry had to all but drag himself away from you, hair disheveled and lips swollen, scowling at the door.

You threw your head back and laughed as he stalked over and pulled it open with a flourish.

"What?"

"The hell's your issue?" you heard Mitch ask before Harry widened the door so he could see you laughing on the couch. You raised a hand in greeting and Harry's scowl deepened as Mitch chuckled, taking in both of your disheveled appearances. "Oh, shit, hey, sorry. Uh, car's ready when you are. See you tomorrow bud."

"Harry!" you chided once he'd closed the door in Mitch's face, giggles still bubbling out of your mouth. "He was just being polite."

"Interrupting arse is what he is," Harry said, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "Where were we?"

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body as close to his as possible, hoping that he'd thought to lock the door before returning to your embrace. "Right about here, I think." With a hand on your hip, sliding under your shirt to reach warm skin and one at the back of your neck, Harry kissed you until you were breathless and not only wanting more but very seriously needing it.

"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured against your lips as you ground your body down on him, reveling in the way the action made him throw his head against the back of the couch and exhale sharply.

"You sure?" Your hands smoothed over the chest of his skin, tracing the dark swallows with your fingertips as you rolled your hips.

He shuddered at the light touch and gripped your hips tightly, pressing his up as you pressed yours down and the action made you sigh, the pressure a delicious tease of what was hopefully to come. "Absolutely," he said, his grin telling you he was pleased with the noises he was causing you to make. "Want you so bad, like I won't be able to breathe right until I properly have you."

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, his shower-damp curls tickling your cheek. "The feeling is mutual. Adored watching you up on stage tonight. Have I told you yet how much I love seeing you perform?" You nuzzle at his neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther, exposing more of his skin to you.

"Yeah, you have, but tell me again," he sighed, his hands running up and down your back.

"It's like when you get on stage no one else before or after you matters," you said honestly, letting your lips against his skin hide how truthful you were really being, spilling all of your thoughts about seeing Harry up on stage. It was scary, feeling so deeply for him already. But you wanted him to know, at least in part, what it meant to be able to watch him perform. "Something about your live voice just makes my breath catch in my throat, I can't get enough of it."

Harry breathed deeply for a moment, working to center himself while you nosed at the curls around his ear and heaped praise upon him.

"It's like you connect with every person out in the crowd, like you're singing just for them. You can tell that you're having fun and people want to join you in that. They know you love the attention," you whispered and he hummed in appreciation (or agreement), the sound low in his throat. "They'd stay out there all night for if they could, screaming about how much they love you."

"And you feed into it, playing it up for them. You know exactly what you're doing when you get to act a little bit naughty up there, driving them all mad," you said with a smile.

He chuckled and you could hear and feel the sound rumble through him. "Played it up for you tonight. Did it work?"

"You mean did it make me want to jump your bones the second you came off stage? Yeah, it worked."

"Fucking hell," he said, holding you close with his hands on your butt as he stood up. "Our first time is not going to be in a dressing room so we need to go now."

He let you slide down his body and held you steady as you balanced on your legs. "Would be pretty fitting though, don't you think, given how we met and what we do?"

"Yeah, but then I'd think about it every time I was in one. You wanna torture me relentlessly?" He pulled you tight against him, kissing you once more before separating to grab his bags.

"Yeah, relentless torture sounds like something I might be into."

He glanced up at your words, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his lips. "Careful what you wish for, love."

///

The bass line increased behind the riff of Ryann's guitar and you leaned into the mic stand, eyes closing as you continued singing the first bridge. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted, and when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

There were a few fans of yours and Harry's who apparently knew the words as they helped you out, screaming the unwritten word that finished the sentence: "tasted."

///

Harry was quick to say goodbye to everyone on the team before pulling you quickly through back hallways and down quiet staircases, sneaking quick kisses when he was sure there was no one around. You were both out of breath when you finally climbed into the car, grinning like kids getting away with sneaking around.

The hotel ride was quick, mercifully, but Harry had been anything but patient, his hand at your knee creeping up slowly, closer and closer to the hem of your dress, toying with the hem while he chatted with the driver.

"I'm gonna head in first with Martin and Eric will loop around and drop you off at the side entrance. I would wait in the lobby for you but this hotel hasn't been the best in the past with uh— containing sensitive information, we'll say, so Martin will meet you on your floor to get your stuff, then bring you up. Is that okay?"

"You sound like you've done this before, Styles," you said with a wink, using humor to cover the nerves that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

He blushed and you loved knowing you got under his skin so easily. "The band used to stay here when we toured… and I was young and dumb once, yes."

"Just giving you a hard time, H."

His grin stretched as he leaned over to peck your lips once more. "See you in a minute, love."

Harry climbed out and the driver took off once again, slowly circling the block. "He's quite taken with you, you know," he said, glancing up in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the curb. He got out and opened the door for you in the empty street then used his keycard to unlock the heavy side door of the hotel.

"Thank you," you said, both for his actions and his omission about Harry. Sure, you had talked to him as often as possible over the last weeks and had yourself been on the receiving end of his attention, but it felt validating to hear that Harry's feelings for you may have gone a bit farther than just a small crush if people around him had also noticed his behavior.

Harry's bodyguard was waiting by the elevators and escorted you to your room to gather your luggage, then led you to Harry's door.

"Car'll be around about 9 tomorrow morning, H. Flight's at 10:30." He turned to you. "I understand you have business to continue here in Chicago?"

"Yes, meetings tomorrow and then I fly back to Nashville in the evening."

"There'll be a driver ready for you tomorrow as well. He's been instructed to take you wherever you need to go and he'll stay until you depart. Have a nice evening," he nodded at Harry, who was smiling in the doorway, before departing.

"You didn't have to do that for me, I could've managed by getting an Uber," you said, stepping into the room past Harry to set your bags down and kick your shoes off.

"I didn't, was Martin's idea; says he doesn't want anything to happen to the one thing that's made me so happy these last few weeks."

"Oh yeah? I'm the one thing, huh?"

"You're everything, honestly," he replied a bit sheepishly, taking your hands in his. "Think I might like you a bit more than I already should. Lettin' my heart get a bit ahead of my head, I suppose."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," you said softly and he beamed.

He moved his hands up to cup your face, pulling you close for a sweet kiss that quickly turned insistent, heat rising between the two of you. Harry slid his hands under the hem of your shirt to rest where your spin ended and yours wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to you as you stepped behind you towards the bed. His long legs tangled with yours and you tumbled backwards, laughing as you hit the plush bed and Harry collapsed on top of you.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you with a smile, pushing the hair that had fallen into your face aside. "Hi baby," he said softly.

"Hi."

"Missed you," he said, leaning down for another sweet kiss.

"We were apart for like, eight minutes," you giggled between his kisses, your laughter giving way to a sigh as he moved to press a kiss to your nose, your cheek, your chin.

"Doesn't matter," he breathed into the crook of your neck, pressing small open mouth kisses to the soft skin there, "Any time apart is too long."

"The two weeks left of the tour will fly by. You should enjoy them while you can."

"Wish you could come with me, love performing for you." He kissed his way across the base of your neck, collarbone to collarbone as his fingers trailed to the small straps on your shoulders. "Would you like to take this off?"

"Please," you sighed, desperate and aching for the feeling of his skin against yours.

Your first time sleeping with Harry had been exactly what you'd wanted and expected - hot and fast, admittedly over a bit more quickly than either of you had wanted, but worth the weeks of wait.

Harry's skill set hadn't ended at singing and playing instruments. If anything, his vast experience using his hands and mouth only helped him excel in other pastimes that also utilized those parts of his body. To both of your delights, he had proven his adeptness in all areas multiple times that night, and once again in the morning before he had to rush into the shower, dragging you along with him simply to get more time together before you were forced apart once again.

///

You had spent the next two months away from one another, Harry having wrapped his tour and immediately beginning work on his next album. You'd spent your own time mixed between writing and recording an upcoming single. You had already written a handful of songs that were inspired by him and you'd wondered, albeit a bit nervously, if the sentiment was shared. When he stopped in Nashville on a long layover, pushing his flight back even longer to stay with you for another night, you'd tried to pry the information out of him. Unfortunately, no amount of sexual teasing or denial had convinced him — he, however, had you singing like a canary almost immediately, teasing you in the best way about how easily you opened up for him, telling him all about the music that he had already inspired.

You had been FaceTiming him late one night weeks later, both tired from long days spent in the studio. He had suddenly gotten shy, biting at the skin around his fingernails.

"Hey, stop that. What's the matter H?"

"Wanna ask you something," he mumbled, but a smile was peeking through where his fingers were still at his lips. "Jus' don't know how to."

"Baby," you sighed, "you can ask me anything. Y'know that."

"I know, I know." He paused and took a deep breath before a wide smile stretched across his face. "Would you maybe want to come home with me this Christmas? To London? Wouldn't be for long, maybe just a couple nights, I just wanna introduce you to my mum already, she's been pestering me nonstop lately 'bout meetin' you and Gem's joined in on it now too, so it's two against one when they call and I've told them that—"

"Harry," you said chucking, trying to interrupt his nervous rambling.

"—and she actually called me Harold last time she told me to bring you 'round and that got me a bit worried so I—"

"Harry! Of course I'll come with you. I'd absolutely love to."

You met him at the airport weeks later, desperate to pull him close and kiss him silly in the confines of his darkly tinted car, but you refrained, knowing how seriously Harry took the protection of your relationship from the press. You may not have been able to see anyone straining to capture pictures of you two, but you knew there was always the chance.

It was an entirely different story, however, when he'd finally pulled the car past the mechanical gate and into his private drive. You both reached for each other immediately, arms tangled and shifter knob pressed uncomfortably against your side, but perfectly content so long as his lips were against yours.

"Fuck— I missed you— so much," he muttered between kisses. He pulled away, forehead resting against yours, sly smirk pulling at his lips. "Mum won't expect us for a few hours at least."

"What is it that you're insinuating, Mr. Styles?"

"That there's plenty of time to give you a tour around the house, that's all," he said innocently. He gave you a sweet smile before hopping out of the car and coming to the passenger side where he helped you out and picked up your bags.

You were eager to be given a house tour, more than keen to learn all of the things you could about his London life. The house was decorated in a way that made you smile - eclectic but with a definitive air of cohesive taste. It suited Harry to an absolute tee. From the artwork that decorated the walls to the mismatched but homey furniture, you could tell immediately that this was Harry's sanctuary - every inch of the home screamed his name.

"It's incredible," you said as he led you into the largest room, the master. He walked over to the dresser that sat under the window and pulled open the top two drawers.

"I know we won't be here long, this time around, but I cleaned out a few drawers for you here, if you want to unpack some things. And there's space in the closet for you too," he nodded towards the door on the other side of the room, dragging a hand through his hair as he talked, "I had too much in there anyways and some of it needed to go and I wanted you to be able to leave some things, if you felt comfortable, of if Mum drags us out shopping and you don't want to take it all home now you can leave it here and-"

"You- you cleared out a drawer for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "Made some space for you in the bathroom too, though I doubt it'll be enough, with all that you bring along to fix yourself up." He paused and thought for a moment. "I know how our lives are. I just wanted you to have some of your own space here; want you to feel as comfortable in my home as I do. Is that too much?"

"H," you said with a sigh, your lips curling into a smile, "it's perfect, and so thoughtful. I'm sorry I haven't done the same for you in Nashville yet."

"'s alright, love. I've already got a toothbrush there at least. I can take some time when we fly back to come and help if you'd like me to. As long as you don't end up wearing all the clothes that I leave there," he chuckled.

"You know me too well," you said, reaching for his hand. He lifted your entwined fingers to his lips to brush a kiss over your knuckles.

"You do look good in my clothes," he confessed, pulling you close to face him. "Look good in my house. But you always look good anyways."

"Said the pot to the kettle," you said with a smile. "I like being here already," you shrug, hands resting on his shoulders. "It feels like you, like home. Thank you for inviting me," you add, as though the measly voicing of your appreciation is enough to convey what you truly feel.

"You're welcome anytime, if I'm here or not."

"You trust me that much?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll get you a key and everything." He leaned down to kiss you slowly, relearning the map of your lips and mouth, before pulling away. He laughed when you made a noise of protest.

"The bathroom's over here if you'd like to freshen up." He had pulled at your hand, stepping towards the other open door in the room. "Figured a shower might sound nice after a long day in an airplane. Besides, I've gotta clean up before we go to Mum's anyways."

"Gonna join me?"

"Yeah, thought I might, if that's okay." His smirk had been wicked as he pushed you the rest of the way into the bathroom. He dropped your hand to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. As he reached for the buckle of his pants, he had met your staring eyes. "See something you like, love?"

You definitely had, though you didn't think your attraction — physically or emotionally — for Harry had stopped at something that was as weak as "like." Getting to know him over the last six months had made you worry that there wasn't ever going to be anyone else like him, anyone that made you feel like he did. You had fallen for him, desperately hard, and the realization of it as you stood in front of his half-naked self almost embarrassed you.

"Babe? You alright?" he asked as he stripped down to his boxers.

"Yeah, you just got me all distracted," you had grinned, pulling your sweatshirt and remaining clothes off quickly before joining Harry under the warm spray of the water.

Meeting Harry's mom that evening went better than you could've ever dreamt it would. The two of you got on like old friends, and Harry had stared, almost in wonder, at how easily you seemed to bond with her. And then he had stared in horror as Anne offered to pull out the photo albums filled with pictures from Harry's childhood, particularly when Anne offered up the album filled with photos from Harry's and Gemma's emo phases.

As the evening wore on, you caught Harry on more than one occasion glancing your way, cheeks bright from the red wine he was sipping on and eyes warmly reflecting the bright Christmas lights. He always looked like he was a split second away from saying something, only to shake his head and look away with a small smile.

Later, in bed, Harry pulled you close to him. He was laying on his back, you on your side, and you threw a leg over his waist, soaking in all of the cuddles you could get on this short trip together. The room was only illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the blinds.

"Mum liked you a lot," he murmured, gently stroking the skin at the base of your spine, "said I should hang onto you".

You returned the gesture, running your fingertips along the lines of ink that make up his many tattoos. "I liked her too. She's wonderful, I see where you get it from now."

"Hey now, 'm wonderful all on my own!" He tickled your side and you couldn"t help but arch towards him, shrieking and laughing at the touch.

"Stop that! You are an absolute pest, you know that?" you said, grinning up at him.

"Ah, you love me," he whispered, and his joking tone made you smile but the way he pulled you tighter as he said it made you brave.

You let the weight what you were about to say wash over you, aware that things were going to change forever with just a few words. "I do love you, Harry," you whispered, moving up his body to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank God," he had said, wrapping his arms back around you and pulling you on top of him. "Cause I love you too."

Leaving Harry after that had been even more difficult. All you wanted to do was be with him, but you had too much coming up with the future release of your album and Harry was still in the midst of doing his own writing and recording.

It was your professions, along with the desire to keep your relationship private, that kept you apart. You weren't sure how you did it, but your relationship had withstood the distance and odd-hours. The only step now would be deciding if, when, and how to confirm the suspicions to tabloids and fans alike that you were an item.

The wait was killing you. All you wanted was to show off to the world that Harry was yours.

///

The bridge of the song was followed quickly by the chorus and the heavy guitar and pounding drums had you rocking on your feet, body swaying into the mic stand as you let yourself get lost in the lyrics. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive."

The crowd was even more into the song now, many picking up on the words quickly and screaming them along with your singing. The rock and roll vibe of the song was coursing through you and the crowd, the arena electric with energy already.

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

You remove the mic from the stand and dance towards one end of the stage, singing as you move to the beat. "We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

///

You had been on the phone with Harry one day in July, nearly five months after the release of your album, having him help you decide what the setlist of your tour would be when it began in November.

"I wish I could cover one of your songs."

He had laughed and slurped his tea, the sounds comforting to you, even over the phone. "That'd be a bit obvious, wouldn't it love?"

"I don't mean cover Golden or Kiwi," you said, tapping your pen against the pad of paper in front of you. "What about one you wrote for 1D? What about Perfect? Or Stockholm Syndrome! That was always one of my favorites."

"Getting permission on those might be a bit more difficult, s'not just me that's gotta sign off on it. Besides, do you really wanna be the artist that covers a One Direction song on her own headlining tour?"

"Guess I'll stick with singing along to them in the shower then."

You were both quiet for a moment, lost in your own thoughts.

"What if I covered Medicine?" you asked suddenly, realizing it was the perfect compromise, not to mention your favorite song that Harry himself performed oh his own tour. The rock sound wasn't a far cry from the roots that country music had and you knew it would sound great. "Even if it was just for one stop!"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "It would sound great with the band, I'll give you that. But videos will go around, people will know it's my song you're singing and they'll connect the dots about us."

"H, I'm ready for that if you are. I love you, and I'm ready to be able to share that love that I have for you with the world. Sneaking around has been fun but I want people to know how proud of you I am and how much you're loved and appreciated. Half of our fans know already, it's just a matter of us confirming it. I think that we could really-"

Harry was laughing at your rambling on the other end of the line. "Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, love. I think you're right, maybe it is time we stopped sneaking around. I'll try, but Jax and everyone else still have to agree to it too. It might be easier to convince everyone if it's just a one time thing. Pick another cover, something you'd normally do, in case it takes some time to work things out."

"I'll ask him right now! Thank you Harry!"

"I just have one condition," he said, and you could hear the grin that was surely pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What's that?"

"I get to perform it with you," he had said, and the smile already on your face widened exponentially. "If we're finally gonna make "us" public, may as well do it with a bang."

///

In the moment after the chorus, an 8 count beat is carried by the drummer and guitarist. For this performance, and the only performance you'd put on of this song, you had rehearsed the 8 count repeating once between the chorus and the next verse, as you needed a bit of extra time to announce your guest performer.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you shout into the mic, grin wide and face beaming already at what was about to take place. "To help me finish this performance, please help me welcome my very good friend, Harry Styles!"

Harry emerges from behind the stage holding his own wireless mic as much of the crowd screams - he may not be a country artist, but he was absolutely known worldwide. You step back with a wave of your arm, smiling as he begins the next chorus. His performance is for the crowd but he's singing the words directly to you.

"Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones," he sings, voice smooth like whiskey, and the crowd adores him, eating out of the palm of his hand. "The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them, and I'm OK with it."

You can't help but dance as he sings, his voice and the energy of the crowd propelling you to move. He watches you, eyes no longer on the crowd, as he sings the next lines. Immediately, heat pools low in your belly at his glance and the words.

"I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it. And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

You gyrate your hips at the unsung line of "ride it", listening with a sly grin as some in the crowd scream the two words that go unsung.

///

After giving him a key, Harry had moved some of his clothes to your apartment in Nashville some time while you were away on the first leg of your tour. He had found the city to be incredibly welcoming and inspirational for his upcoming album and had decided to stay there for a spell while you continued to tour around the country.

You had scheduled a short break between your concerts over New Years, wanting to be able to grab at least one or two nights at home with him to celebrate the holiday before you were back on the road again.

"So fucking glad you're home," Harry panted, pulling your shirt over your head before attaching his lips to yours once again. "Missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too," you moaned as his lips moved downwards, across your neck and over your collarbones, down the valley between your breasts. Before he could reach around to unhook your bra, you reached for his shirt, as desperate as he was to see and touch what you'd been missing.

As he pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse over his head, you pulled your leggings off and reached for him, pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He unbuttoned his pants as he scooted up towards the middle of the bed, shoving them and his boxers off in one swoop.

You climbed on top of him, hurriedly reaching to kiss him as you rubbed your clothed center along the length of his hard cock.

"Fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back to allow you room to kiss his neck. "Desperate aren't you, darling?"

"Want you so bad it hurts," you whispered, sucking a bright hickey right where it would absolutely be seen by anyone.

You moved to continue kissing down his chest but he stopped you with a hand under your arm. "Not gonna last long, love. Wanna be inside you."

His cheeks and chest were flushed bright red, lips puffy and pupils blown wide. This was when you loved him most, being able to have him like no one else did. The same feeling always hit you at certain moments, particularly ones of domesticity, like when you watched him back the car out of the driveway or when he stood in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but socks, boxers, and his ratty old robe, singing along to old big band jazz as he waited for the coffee to brew. There was Harry Styles the musician, Harry Styles the actor, and Harry Styles the performer, but then there was your Harry.

"Yeah, okay," you sighed, moving off of him quickly to remove your bra and panties. You climbed back onto the bed and threw your leg over his hips, straddling him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you flush against his chest, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss.

You rocked your hips against him as he held you, your slick arousal gliding along his length, drawing a moan from both of you.

"Baby, please," he panted, and you could only mod in agreement, lost already to the sweeping feeling of your close release.

His hands rested on your hips as you positioned him at the entrance between your legs. You groaned in harmony as you worked down him slowly, the only sound in the room was your shared heavy breathing and gasps.

"Fuck me," he sighed as you set a slow pace, rocking on top of him to reach each spot that you know will get you there.

"Workin' on it," you grin. A quick swivel of your hips hit at just the right angle and you tossed your head back, repeating the movement over and over again until you shuddered with a final snap of tension, your orgasm rolling over you as Harry helped you move, hands tight on your hips, to wring all you could from the release.

"You look so beautiful right now, like a fuckin' angel," Harry said, voice low and gravely, accent thick with need.

"How's that line go?" you said as you slowed down, smirking when a harsh rock of your hips caused Harry to moan. "'Turns out she's a devil in between the sheets'?"

"Fuck," he groaned again, eyes closed tightly. "Can't just go reciting my own lyrics to me while I"m buried in ya like this, love."

"And there's nothing you can do about it," you continued, singing the line of his song this time, and his hips buck up into yours harshly.

"You're gonna pay for that," he had said, quoting another of his songs, before he had flipped you over onto your back and set his own brutal pace.

///

Like he can read your thoughts, Harry beams and wags a finger in your direction and the crowd screams at your chemistry together. You grab your mic from its stand and take a step towards Harry to sing the chorus together.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive." Harry dances off to the side of the stage, performing once again for the crowd.

You dance at center stage with your wireless mic, too excited about performing with Harry that you can't stand in one spot. The music and Harry's energy make you want to move. "You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

"We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da!" Harry throws his head back, singing along in his own world and you can't look away from him. He really was a rockstar and getting to share the stage with him like this was an experience you'd never forget.

"You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

There's a great pause in the lyrics where the guitar, keyboard, and drums play together, increasing the tension of the song. You and Harry take off towards opposite ends of the stage, both reveling in the performance for the crowd as you dance and stomp to the beat. Eventually, with a slide down the keys of the keyboard, the instrumental quiets into just the steady beat of the bass line joined by the hi-hats.

You and Harry urge the crowd to clap along as you both return to the middle of the stage to sing together once again. He always said that this portion of the song was one of his favorites to perform, the repeated line from the bridge ending abruptly with the lights going out before flashing back on, the added theatrics of the performance elevating the climax of the song completely. Having rehearsed that Harry would sing the following chorus alone, you let yourself get lost in his gaze as it settles on you.

You stand facing one another behind the mic stand, once again singing more to one another rather than to the crowd. You step closer towards him as the lyrics progress, nearly chest to chest now with your voices sharing one another's mics. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm—"

Before you can sing the last word of the line and the lights can blink out as rehearsed, Harry leans forwards and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. The crowd erupts with screams as the lights above the stage go dark.

You can feel rather than hear him say the words "I love you" against your lips and you have just enough time to repeat them back to him before the drums and guitar pick the beat up once again, the lights flashing back on brightly. He moves away and continues to sing the chorus that follows as if nothing had happened. You're a bit stunned, not having prepared for his relationship-revealing public display of affection to happen during your performance of his song but it was perfect and he knows it. Your smile is wide and you can't help but stand rooted where you are and laugh at what has just finally happened.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he sings, smirking at you while you blush across from him.

You join him in singing the last lines, your right hand joining his left hand where everyone can see your fingers entwine.

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it. We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh!"

You urge the crowd with a waving hand to join in and they do, singing along with you and Harry. "La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

The drums and guitar end the song on five quick beats and the crowd erupts once again in screams. You immediately jump towards Harry, throwing your arms around his neck in a close embrace. His hands wrap around your waist to hold you close, and you can feel him smile where his face is pressed close to your jaw.

"How was that?" he asks, chuckling against you.

"It was perfect, you're perfect. Thank you, H. For everything."

"Can take you on a proper date now, yeah? Wanna show my girl off to the world."

"Yes, please!" You can't wipe the smile from your face as he sets you down and Harry continues to beam at you as the crowd continues screaming, reeling from your shared performance.

Harry nudges you gently before turning back to them, lifting his and your arms high in the air and leading you in bending for a bow. He steps away from you and turns, opening his arms wide to you for the crowd to praise and you laugh, tearing up at his gesture and the overwhelming emotions of the performance while you take another bow just for yourself.

He pulls you into another hug and you can't help but angle your face up towards him, wordlessly asking for another very quick, very public kiss.

He glances down at you, smiling. "You're gonna love this now, aren't you?"

"Course I am. love showing them you're mine."

He leans down to peck your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips, as the crowd goes wild. "Love showing them you're mine. You've got a show to finish, love. Go kill it."

///

Ahh! So much fun! This has been such a joy to write and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! It’s my first (of hopefully many) Harry fics - reading all of the stories here has been immensely inspiring, and I’m so looking forward to writing more!

Tagging my love @morganlatte who is a wonderful hype woman and beta reader. Thanks buddy!

Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation (aka I have a praise kink) so leave me a comment here if you feel so inclined!

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #one direction fanfiction #harry styles x you #reader insert fic #my writing #wow!#that was so much fun #i'm so in love with it

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issaxcharlie · 3 years

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Spectacular!

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Inspired by Nickelodeon’s Spectacular! Luke Patterson needs the money for his bands demo, and miraculously, that same night he gets an offer to fix his problem. The catch? Rockstar boy has to join his school’s show choir and put up with their fearless Female Lead Singer. (don’t come here searching for accuracy remember it’s inspired by a movie)

Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, hope you like it! Oh and it’s a little long so keep it in mind +8k👀💜

Say this is not her scene would be to fall short, but she has to make sacrifices to find greatness. The first thing she notices when she walks into the little club, is that it's packed. The people look excited and somewhat desperate and she doesn't blame them. The pamphlet marked they were supposed to start at 8:00 p.m. and it's already 8:40. She makes her way carefully until she finds a perfect place in the middle of the room.

The musicians take the stage visibly anxious, especially Alex who cannot stop moving his hands trying to probably calm himself down. Reggie and the rhythm guitarist take their positions. They look at each other one last time before beginning to play the enveloping sound of the pop-rock song. The bass line sounds insane and she hasn't heard Alex play drums in years, he’s exceptional. They could both play without their singer all night and she wouldn't mind.

The space in the center of the stage that belongs to who she came to see today, completely empty. The bassist seems about to take the first verse when Sunset Curve lead guitarist and vocalist Luke Patterson appears on stage.

She has seen him multiple times in the hallways laughing with her childhood best friend, Alex Mercer and her lab partner, Reggie Peters, but she has never spoken directly to him. Still, it's hard not to notice how handsome he is and how much of a charismatic personality he has.

“I'm living my life just the way I like, they say I get a little too loud. Try to push me in a box, over analyze. But I'm never gunna turn it down”

His voice is enchanting and mesmerizing, a sound that immediately reminds her of the best rockers in history and his movements and energy are electrifying. In seconds the entire audience is jumping and dancing to the beat.

“They say never and I say right now!” Y/N analyzes him excitedly. The passion with which he sings and plays his guitar reminds her of when she is on stage, although the two of them dedicate themselves to totally different things, their love for music is the same. She definitely has a lot of work to do to polish him and make him the perfect performer she needs, but if there's anyone who can accomplish the impossible, it's her.

“No one's gonna stop me tonight! Thank you, we are Sunset Curve, tell your friends!” The presentation ends and Sunset Curve leaves the stage. The girl moves quickly to catch up with them at the back of the club, but when she finally arrives, screams can be heard from two of the members of the band.

“I know you don’t like me, Bobby. But trying to sabotage the show by giving me the wrong time is just the most stupidest thing you've ever done!” The guitarist looks furious, his muscles are really tense and Y/N can't help staring at his biceps way more than she probably should.

"This fight of egos between the two of you has to stop, we can no longer continue to be in the middle." The bassist cries out, tired of all the bickering.

“You no longer have to, Reggie. It’s time to decide. The lousy rocker or me. Remember that the money for the demo is mine before choosing... I'm not sure Patterson's lyrics can compete without the money to record them.”

The guitarist looks down at the ground, a mixture of anger and sadness on his face. Alex and Reggie turn to see each other for a second and then position themselves on either side of Luke, no sign of doubt on their faces.

“We’ll find a way without you. Let’s see If you find one without us.” Reggie declared with a little smirk. Bobby grabs his stuff and gets into his truck without looking back, completely furious.

"Some things Bobby was angry about are true and you have to improve them. You are not a solo artist, you are part of a band." Alex points to Luke as soon as the truck is out of sight, but before he can respond the blonde intercepts the girl at the door.

“Y/N?” The three of them turn to see her, Reggie smiles at her while Luke looks pissed off.

“Hey guys, I came to talk to Luke.” Luke frowns in surprise while the other two gape for a few seconds.

"Really?” Y/N turns with a murderous face towards her friend, who puts his hands in his pockets and begins to walk. “...Okay. Meanwhile Reg and I are going to figure out how to get the drums in Luke's car."

"If you come for an autograph please be quick, I don't feel like socializing." The guitarist declares to the wind, not wanting to pay attention to the stranger who approaches him in the middle of the alley, no matter how cute she looks.

“I’m not a fan.” She confesses in a firm voice, trying to measure the situation.

"Oh, then I'll go. See you later beautiful." He's about to leave when her voice stops him.

“Patterson, come back here!” There's something about her tone that makes Luke suddenly interested. He turns to see her carefully, her chin is up, her shoulders back. Her lips are press together and her eyes look determined and he can't help but admit that the confidence she projects is really doing something to him.

“2 minutes, firecracker.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L.” Faced with no comment from the guitarist, she decides to continue. “I need a male lead singer for my group and I think you might be the perfect fit, after I'm done with you, of course."

He’s unable to believe what he hears. “A band? I think you know pretty well I'm already in one.”

“It’s not a band, it’s a group. THE group If I can say so myself. Spectacular!” She affirms with the first smile he sees her that night, and he can't believe it is possible that she can look even more beautiful.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit with the spectacular thing? At least tell me the name or what kind of band is." She rolls her eyes and he chuckles in response, thinking it was adorable and hot at the same time.

“I already told you, Spectacular! It’s a show choir.”

“Is this a joke? Did Bobby sent you?”

“No and no. I know it’s not really your style, but I’m telling you I can make it work. I heard a bit of the conversation you had with the band, the prize of Nationals is 10,000 dollars. I'm willing to give you half for the demo, if we win, obviously. And I can assure you we will if you accept and do absolutely everything I say.”

“Firecracker, are you trying to tell me that all I have to do to raise the money is put on some stupid cowboy or tiger-print outfit and humiliate myself in front of an entire audience with my best jazz hands? Wow, sounds like a dream!” Maybe he got a bit too sarcastic, but meh, as pretty as she is, she's still a stranger.

“My name is Y/N, and I'm not appreciating your tone of voice.” By this moment the girl seems tired of the musician, who feels the frustration in her and tries to be more gentle.

“I- I’m sorry. Thanks for the offer, but I don't feel as desperate yet as to end my reputation in that way. I hope you find what you are looking for, but that’s just not me. I'm just a guitarist.” She nods, entwining her arms against her chest. He admires her for a few more seconds and turns to his car, where his friends are already waiting for him to help with the drums.

Before getting behind the wheel he turns to her one last time, but she is nowhere to be seen.

Fights between Luke and Bobby weren't new to the band. The big-headed attitude of both collided practically all the time and things had been getting worse in recent months with the more overconfident attitude of the guitarist, but they never imagined that they would end up in this situation.

The days go by and the boys are running out of time. They have to deliver the demo to the Orpheum offices in two months so that they can be taken into account for the great concert they will hold at the end of the year presenting the best new talents in the city. All they've heard from Bobby is that he's trying to build his own band but without much success. Still, he doesn’t fold his hands and continues to try on his own.

The three remaining members of Sunset Curve are in Alex's room lying on the floor with their instruments around trying to think of solutions, when Y/N's voice coming from outside refreshes the blonde's memory. “What did Y/N want to talk to you the other day?”

“Who?” Luke narrows his eyes in confusion.

“Y/N? The captain of the school’s show choir? She went to talk to you after Bobby left the band. Small, fire in her eyes, a lot of attitude.”

“OH, Firecracker! So that group is our school's choir? that's even worse. She tried to recruit me, even offered me the money for the demo if we win the competition in which they will participate.”

“What? She wants you in Spectacular? What did you said?” Alex heard that his friend's ex-boyfriend broke up with her and joined last year's national champions, but he never imagined that she would try to replace him with someone like Luke. Luke is distracted by a melody and doesn’t answer his friend's question.

"Why does your mom always leave her music on when she leaves to work?" The music is definitely not his style, they are always usually pop songs or even songs from musicals, but the singer's voice is one of the most beautiful he has ever heard so it never bothers him.

“It’s not her music, is Y/N.” Alex responds, wondering what the young woman is up to since she is never usually home at this hour.

“Who?” Alex's eyes widen, not able to believe his friend.

“Really? I already told you!” The guitarist tilts his head and shrugs. “Firecracker?”

“What does firecracker have to do with this?” Alex opens his balcony curtains and the silhouette of a young woman singing and dancing through her transparent pink ones comes to their visions.

“She’s so good bro, I thought it was a record too.” Reggie looks at her with a big smile as Alex rolls his eyes at Luke.

As soon as he sees her, the musician is in a trance, admiring the grace and energy with which she moves, wanting with all his might to remove the pink curtain that does not allow him to see her properly.

The song ends and a well-known melody begins to play with prominent bass and drums. “Guys, shut up! I’m trying to hear her sing.”

“It’s not us, man.” Reggie answers almost screaming with how loud the girl’s music is.

“What do you-” Luke turns around and sees his friends with their hands raised, the cables finally connecting in his brain. "She is listening our song?"

"Not just listening, she's also destroying your career, her vocals are amazing." The black-haired boy adds, smirking and running to connect his bass.

Luke excitedly opens the balcony window and sings the pre-chorus as loud as he can to get the singer's attention. “Call me in the morning to apologize, every little lie gives me butterflies.” She immediately turns around and smiles at the guitarist's cocky smile. She opens the curtain and the window and her sunset curve t-shirt is the first thing the band notices.

“Something in the way you're looking through my eyes, don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive.” Luke sings seductively towards her, each word fully dedicated to the woman in front of him.

Reggie accompanies them with his bass while Alex looks at his friends incredulously, an "Are you fucking kidding me." Comes out of the blonde almost like a whisper when he identifies the shirt that the girl wears as his.

Both sing the chorus together and the chemistry is unquestionable. Alex had never thought of this two together because at first glance they seem completely different, but thinking about it a little more deeply they couldn't be more similar. They are both passionate, headstrong, live for the stage, and are ridiculously talented and confident.

“Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet. Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth. Late night devil, put your hands on me. And never, never, never ever let go.”

The performance between the duo is playful, driving, sexy and intense and Alex and Reggie can't help but feel like they're interrupting a private moment. As soon as the song ends, the girl moves closer to the window, blows them a kiss and closes it.

"Where did that woman come from?" Luke whispers as he tries to catch his breath. Nobody had enchanted him so much just by singing, well, nobody had enchanted him, period. But she’s definitely something.

“She has been my neighbor since we were 6 years old, we used to be best friends but we both drifted apart when we entered high school. She’s amazing, the best performer in the city.” Alex informs him and then Reggie adds his own piece of valuable information. “She’s my lab partner. Fun, smart, beautiful, the whole deal. A true gem.”

“Answering your question, I said no to her offer. But I guess the group of someone this rad can't be that bad. And we really need the money." The drummer purses his lips and nods. His friend definitely took the hook.

"Honestly, I always wanted to audition, I guess the three of us could try in, to support you obviously."

“Of course man, she sounded desperate when she asked, and if the shirt and song is any indication she is definitely a huge Sunset Curve fan. She tried to fool me by saying she wasn't a groupie, as if that was possible after seeing us perform.”

His friends leave the house and Alex plays on the drums the secret signal he had with the girl when they were younger, a minute later the girl appears in her window with an amusing smile, dressed in her classic blue pajamas.

“Really?” The drummer chuckled and his friend’s smile grows even bigger, a little laugh leaving her lips. “The shirt was a nice touch. A little much, but that idiot must have fallen for it completely. I want it back by the way.”

“You can see right through me. You know the invitation is open, right? I would love nothing more than to have you there.” He has known her his whole life, and realized early on that she was just trying to get his friend's attention to reconsider her offer by raising his ego, and he honestly doesn't mind. It's about time Luke met someone of his caliber. Perhaps her influence could do him good.

“I- thank you. I guess we’ll see. See you tomorrow.” She blows him a kiss and closes the window. Tomorrow sure is going to be an interesting day, Sunset Curve joins Spectacular.

Having to face Spectacular! And telling them they still don't have a male lead singer who can compete against Damian was not easy. Her options are running out and she honestly doesn't know what to do to save them.

Damian on stage is the best, it pains her to admit that she has never seen anyone like him. At first she thought she could continue without him, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he is just impossible to replace.

Everyone continues to practice the routine, clearly discouraged after her bad news and it honestly breaks her heart. She knows how much the group means to everyone for different and personal reasons and she can't let them lose this. So whatever she has to do, she’ll do it so they can have the leader they deserve.

“I thought the children in the choir would have more energy, this is just sad, firecracker.” She hides her wide smile before turning to the owner of the voice, who is entering the auditorium with his best friends. Money really talks, otherwise she can't explain what would make him appear here.

“Dude, can you please play nice? This is important!” Reggie looks flustered and scolds Luke probably louder than he planned. The guitarist just ignores him and winks shamelessly at her. Seems her little plan from yesterday was successful, now she just has to play the situation in her favor.

“Mercer, Peters... Patterson. Can we help you with something?” The performer shows a perfect poker face, Spectacular continues to practice but they can't help but turn their attention to the rock band.

“I came to accept your proposal, but only If we can include Reggie and Alex in the deal. I guess as long as I’m in whatever I ask shouldn't be a problem." He crosses his arms and gives her a confident smile.

“I could actually do with a few more members, specially as talented as Reg and Alex. As for you, you've already turned down my offer Lucas, but if for some reason you don't graduate this year, make sure you audition the next one. Now, let’s start boys." Y/N moves within inches of Luke to gently close his open mouth with her index finger, and gives him a small wink before turning and taking the other two musicians each on each arm and pulling them closer to where the group is still practicing.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.” The skilled singer continues to ignore him as she explains to her new members something Luke can't quite hear.

The musician frustrates and walks until he is directly in front of her. “Y/N” He groans.

“I'm not firecracker anymore? That is just sad.” Luke looks upset, but she's determined to not let him have what he wants after what he said at the club, so if he wants the money that bad he's going to have to prove it.

“I’m going to explain you something quickly so you can go and stop wasting my time. I’ve seen your band play, I know how good these two are at singing, which means I don't need you anymore, nor do I have to put up with your rockstar wannabee attitude. I need someone that I can connect with and have the chemistry that leaves everyone forgetting how to breathe, and after yesterday, I just don't think that's you.” Right now she is grateful to be such a good actress because yesterday's act melted her legs, even though they were separated by the balconies. This man is unreal, totally unfair.

"I do, I wouldn't be surprised if they kissed at any moment." The bassist whispers as Alex looks at him with an incredulous face, he just slowly shakes his head from side to side and continues to see the leader of their band and their new leader in a starting contest, is kind of an amusing sight since Luke is definitely not used to having to face someone like him.

“It’s like you said, you are just a guitarist. Thinking you could handle something like this was ridiculous of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a group to direct."

Y/N hopes she hasn't pushed the rockstar too much, but remains firm in her tactics and turns to the others to continue with the rehearsal. She signals them to put the most similar song to the Sunset Curve sound that she can remember at the moment to make Alex and Reggie feel more calm and to see if she finishes catching Luke’s interest, who still doesn’t move from where he is with his eyes fixed on her, which she takes as as a good sign.

The moment the song start, both sunset curve members smile, and Luke's voice is heard from behind. “So you're the girl, I heard the rumor.” He sounds powerful and captivating and immediately sets everyone's eyes on him. She doesn’t give him the luxury of turning to see him, but he is not going to give up and in a quick and agile movement he turns her by the hand.

“Why don't you break my heart, make it hurt so bad. Come on give it your best, nothing less, I insist, I want it just like that.” The girl should have thought more about her choice before asking for a song like this. Every word that comes out of the musician's mouth is addressed directly to her with an intensity in his eyes and movements that should be illegal.

She tries to get out of his way but he makes it pretty clear that he's not singing to prove himself to the group, he's doing it to prove something to her. Specifically, to prove her wrong.

“Stare me down, intimidate me. Oh baby please you'll never break me.” He comes dangerously close to her, basically inches apart, his eyes fixed on her lips and smiling flirtatiously as he sings, his eyes glinting mischievously.

She enters the song so as not to make him feel like she’s defeated and starts dancing with him to the rhythm, their movements matching effortlessly as they move across the stage.

She pulls herself back as far as she can, but Luke surprises everyone by doing a body roll on the floor, his arms looking more gorgeous than ever in that sleeveless shirt as they take the full weight of his body without any problem, his eyes never losing contact with hers. All the girls start to do small screams while Y/N's cheeks turn red at her thoughts. He slides on his knees towards her and gets up as he puts his foot on her to make her lose balance and catch her right at the end of the song.

“Why don’t you break my heart.” They've been in a trance since the song started and it's like it's just the two of them in the auditorium. Their lips are almost touching, neither willing to give up eye contact or move from their current position, until the applause and shouts of excitement bring them back to reality.

“I have chemistry with everybody that I sing with, firecracker.” He whispers to her lips before shifting the girl's full weight to his right arm to raise his left one to her face and carefully close her mouth with his finger, winking with a cocky smile before lifting her up.

Immediately everyone begins to advocate for him with all kinds of arguments that ranged from how sensual he was to how much of a presence he had on stage. Her best friend’s comment is the one that catches his attention the most. "You have even more chemistry with him than Damian, I didn't think it was possible." That definitely sounds interesting.

Y/N pretends to listen to her teammates before saying Luke can enter the group. The truth is that she knew from the first moment she saw him perform with Sunset Curve that he was a star, but this facet without the guitar and irradiating passion from his pores was something that left her speechless.

Still, she knew all the work that would go into preparing the band and it really was exhausting. For them to understand that they couldn't just sing like they do at the club, that there are rules to follow, dance steps they have to learn, facial expressions they have to master, notes they have to hit perfectly, wasn’t easy but they succeeded.

Along the way, she regained her bond with Alexander, her friendship with Reggie grew stronger, and each day she felt closer to Luke. She has been practicing a duet with him for weeks now, and the chemistry that they have set to burn the stage more than once. It was hard for her to ignore how the guitarist's hands feel on her thighs as he lifts her or the way he wraps himself around her, breathing softly down her neck or brushing his lips teasingly over her cheekbone. Both are very physical to show affection so small contacts such as hugs or caresses, as well as small kisses on the cheek or hand were very recurrent. They had also gone out multiple times alone and with their friends, from the cinema, the park, to see them play, to small parties at home, to midnight talks.

Reggie was the one who had her alone the most because they were lab partners, but no matter how hard the bassist tried to get information from the girl, he never succeeded. The truth is that not even she knows what is happening with the guitarist, she is for the first time in her life letting herself be carried away and enjoying the moment, and she’s loving it.

Luke and Alex are in detention after the brown haired boy made a mess in the classroom by putting together a little concert with the help of the blonde, and as they die of boredom, his mind can’t help to go to her for the 14th time of the day. "How did she end up in the show choir?"

Alex is blank for a few seconds but analyzes the question and realizes who they are talking about. “Spectacular used to be the most important show choir in the country, led by her mother, may she rest in peace. Y/N always wanted to be a part of it and when she lost her, it became a goal. She suffered a lot to get to the perfect star we see today, especially because her father is rarely there since he works outside the country. She has practically had to face alone auditions, injuries, she had to learn to sew, comb her hair and put on makeup for the show, sing for hours her solos with no one to encourage her, without mention that the current director could not care less about the group and practically leaves all the work to her. That’s why she’s so be fearless, she kind of has to."

“I didn’t know.” The sight of Y/N as happy as ever with his mother when he took her home for lunch the week before appears in his memory. She looked radiant as she ate his mother's famous stew and listened to stories of little Luke as he gently stroked her thigh while songwriting with his other hand. When was the last time she got to experience something as homelike as that? Luke probably doesn’t want to know.

Alex's sad voice brings him back to the conversation.“I was supposed to be there, you know? At first I was. We were going to audition for Spectacular together, but that summer I met you and Sunset Curve was born, and I didn’t have the time anymore so I abandoned her. I knew how important it was for her to have me there, and I didn't even go to her audition. And do you know how many times she has reproached me? Not even one.”

Luke knows that Alex would never hurt her on purpose and that the situation was probably much more complicated than he expresses it, so he reassures him and lets him know that she loves him and is proud that he took his own path. As soon as the blonde calms down, he begins to tell him multiple stories about when he and the girl were kids, the songwriter takes out his journal and begins to add lyrics to the song he has been working on, more inspired than ever.

“You are falling so deeply for her, man. I’m happy for you both.” His friend comments to him while reading the verses written on the paper. He totally is.

“Bowling, nice. I'm going to finish you off, Patterson.”

“As sexy as your confidence sounds, I'm not going to let you win.”

“I'm pretty sure you've never gone bowling.” Alex adds with furrowed eyebrows.

“Your point is, Mercer?” She wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. Reggie chuckles amused.

"How can you be so sure that you are going to win?"

“Oh, my dear cute blonde. I’m good at everything.” She makes a slight remark on everything with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who chokes while blushing.

She smiles cheekily at him and confidently steps into the room, Sunset Curve behind as Alex and Reggie tease Luke for being completely whipped.

Happiness doesn't last long when the first thing they see inside is Damian Miller along with a couple of his new teammates. The moment their eyes meet, Y/N seems to melt, but not in the good way.

Her firm and perfect posture now all bent as she embraces herself with her arms and tries with the strength that has left to hold her gaze at the person who took everything from her without much more than an empty sorry.

When she feels the guitarist at her side again, she unconsciously stretches her hand to intertwine her fingers with him, who tilts his head to see their hands together and then to see her face.

She is not doing it to make Damian jealous, but to feel supported. And when Luke realizes it, he can't help not feeling angry at the boy in from of them. In the month that he has been with her, he has never seen her doubt, fear, or believe anything less than that she is unstoppable. And today for the first time ever he sees her intimidaded, and the fact that it's because of a jerk like this makes it even worse.

He rubbs her hand to make her feel less anxious and when she turns to meet his eyes, he brings his index finger to her chin and winks at her, hoping she gets the message. She seems to do it because she immediately smiles playfully and begins to look more relaxed.

The guitarist is aware that Damian was his firecracker's first boyfriend, and he also knows how much he betrayed her love and trust. No matter how strong the woman is, her reaction is completely normal and valid, and that she has the confidence to be vulnerable and let him be there for her means a lot to him.

“Princess.” Damian whispers as he moves closer to her, his eyes fixed on Y/N and Luke's clasped hands.

“I’m not your princess, Y/L is just fine. Listen, Damian. I could pretend this is not uncomfortable and boring but, I don't want to. So yeah, excuse us.”

She pulls the hand that joins her to Luke to make him walk and Alex and Reggie follow behind them, looking at her ex boyfriend with little smiles of pride. Alex knows how much Damian turned off Y/N’s spark and seeing her put him in his place makes him feel so proud.

"So someone is going to teach me bowling or what?"

“I’ll do it baby, but another day. Today we came here with a different purpose.” Luke points to the large Rock the World machine located in a comfortable corner space.

“Of course, is always about music with you, eh Patterson?” She smirks, getting a little closer to him.

“Pretty much, but I can tell that attracts you, Y/L.” He wrinkles his nose, his lips parting slightly.

“Hell yeah it does.” he smirks, not at all expecting her to admit it so openly but he definitely should have seen it coming.

“Good thing I’m into dominant firecrackers then.”

“Could you stop flirting for a second and start playing? I have plans to destroy Alex and your daily session of sexual tension is not going to ruin it.”

Both smile at Reggie while Y/N takes the games microphone and Luke the guitar. The song that Y/N chooses is She’s so gone by Naomi Scott, and it goes without saying that the boys have never played it in their lives but they love a challenge.

The mastery with which the girl interprets the song makes a good number of people come to see the round, including her ex-boyfriend and his new friends.

“Here I am, this is me, and I'm stronger than you ever thought I'd be. Are you shocked? Are you mad? That you're missing out on who I really am.”

The singer sings the verse directly towards Damian, as his friends start pointing out and teasing him. Reggie goes over to tell Luke he thought he would join her, but the guitarist only replies, "I want to see her shine."

She gets carried away with the music and draws Luke to her, jumping and twirling to the beat of the music. The guitarist hyping her up every single second og the song. At the end the night was incredible, the four of them spent it singing, dancing and even bowling, which Y/N ended up dominating from the second round.

Luke thought that there would be no better time than that night to show her what he had been working on, so after saying goodbye to her he went to Alex’s where he had left his journal.

Before he can say goodbye to the blond, screams are heard from the house next door. “I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Damian!”

“No? So what were you doing shaking your hips against the rock boy?”

“I don't have to explain anything to you, but I think it's pretty obvious why I wanted to be against that body, have you seen it?” She says it playfully with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who is walking with the blonde to her door, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dark. He chuckles, knowing it's the girl's way of reassure him and she smiles as she sees his expressions relax.

“Everything alright, firecracker?” Luke does not stand in front of her like a brave prince, he stops a meter from both of them and asks before intervening, and that makes her heart melt. Because he wants to hear her first, he trusts that she can take care of it and has the confidence to tell him if she needs help, which is also completely valid. And it's something she has to work on, know that there are also times when it's okay to trust someone. That you don't always have to carry the weight alone.

“Go away, punk. My girl and I are in the middle of something.” The three of them start laughing at the ex-boyfriend's intimidation attempt, who seems to get angrier with every laugh that comes out of their mouths.

“I’m fine baby, but you guys could show him the way out? I’m tired of his bullshit.” She asks the boy with a cute smile, and he would disintegrate over the nickname if her horrible ex-boyfriend and her best friend weren't there.

"Don't touch me, I’ll go. Right now the numbers are not working in my favor so we will fix this where it really matters, on stage. Let's see if this attempt at a singer can save you from total humiliation, because let's be honest Y/N, you are nothing without me."

The faces of both members of Sunset Curve begin to tense, Luke's fists completely white from how much he's clenching them. For her part, the singer, who is already used to that type of comments from her ex-boyfriend, only tells him "yes, yes, you're right. It was a pleasure Dami, never come back." while pushing him to the other side to make him go away.

The nickname comes off her tongue in the most natural way in the world, she doesn't even seem to notice it and Luke feels some annoyance hearing it. As if someone had hit him in the stomach. But immediately the discomfort goes away when the girl turns to them again with a big smile and runs to hug them excitedly.

“Thanks for coming to check me out, guys. Things can sometimes get out of control with him.”

"We will always be there for you when you need us, okay? I actually went into Alex's house to get something I wanted to show you but it's late, I’ll come back tomorrow." The blonde turns from his friend to the other, a tired smile appears on his lips as he passes Luke his journal to place his arm on his childhood friend and lean on her.

"No, don't go please. Damian was pretty mad and... I don't want to be alone." She can be very dramatic at times but the fear in her voice sounds sincere, and remembering the scream that brought them outside in the first place Alex imagines how scared she really was before seeing them show up and his heart clenches at the thought.

“O- Okay, sure.” He sounds nervous but the excitement is evident in the way his left leg keeps moving, just like when he's on stage.

“I do have to go in, you already know mom. Will you be alright with just Luke?” He already knows the answer from the girl's radiant gaze but it doesn't hurt to confirm. She hugs him tightly with her arms around his neck and whispers a "Yes, I love you but go away already." which makes the drummer laugh out loud while high-fiving his other friend goodbye.

The third wheel enters his house and finally they are alone. She smiles and takes him by the hand to enter the house. Luke takes a moment to admire it, everything is in place but there are several instruments throughout the living room. A keyboard on the couch, a guitar next to the TV, even a tambourine on the table.

"May l?" He walks over to the guitar and turns to see the girl nodding and pointing up the stairs for him to follow. Her room is quite similar to her style, white is the predominant color but there are many details in pink and gold, as well as multiple yellow lights giving a romantic tone to the room at midnight.

“Do you want to show me now?” she asks eagearly, with joined hands, closed eyes and pursed lips.

“Y- yeah... of course.” He sits on the rug and puts the guitar aside, then puts his notebook between his legs and when he finds the sheet he is looking for, he carefully tears it off. The girl looks at him adoringly, the happiness of having him with her making her heart beat louder in her chest. She sits across from him making sure to brush his legs and waits for him to speak.

“Here.” He looks nervous, his cheeks totally flushed as he avoids eye contact for the first time since they met.

Y/N takes the sheet in his hands and a huge warm smile appears on her face when he sees the guitarist's terrible lyrics. BRIGHT written and highlighted several times in the title.

“It’s for you.” Luke whispers while bringing his face closer to hers, making her shiver.

“You wrote me a song?” She doesn't know what to say. Since her mom, no one had done anything so beautiful, considerate, and selfless for her. Something so vulnerable and full of love.

“Don’t be mad, but Alex told me a little about how you ended up in show choir, your friendship with him, your mom.” He turns to see her looking for her reaction, she just nods to tell him it’s okay to continue. “A sweet story about a little girl with the voice of an angel who loved to sing love songs. And you know what was in my head all that night? That even though I've never written one, I would write millions of love songs for you.”

Some tears fall from the girl's face, she carefully places the lyrics on the guitar and throws herself on the guitarist, who falls in surprise against the carpet, making sure to grab her by the waist so that she falls safely on his chest. She rests her arms on either side of his head and brings her lips against Luke's, brushing them gently.

Luke doesn't move a muscle, not wanting to do something to make her uncomfortable, when he suddenly hears her talk. “And what about teeth? I mean is not the sweetest love story ever told but-”

The boy chuckles, Y/N's curious eyes a few inches away. “Alex wrote that one after his first breakup, Reggie and I did the melody.”

“Good. Guess we’ll have to start making some experiences to help you write all that songs.” At that moment she finally pushes her lips against his, both in a moment of euphoria at the taste of each other. She presses her body against him and he bites lightly with his teeth on her lower lip to shove his tongue against her mouth in response. Her little hands pulling his hair hard as his hands go down her butt. Both of them enjoying what they had been dreaming of for so long.

When the two finally separate they fall in a comfortable silence, she starts to admire his facial features, delicately running her fingers through his nose, his mouth, his cheekbones, until he interrumpts her. “I knew you want me from the beginning, I could see the lust in your eyes. Everything about the choir was a complex plan to get me under you.” Luke affirms with his best poker face, and sees clearly how her eyes fill with light while a pure laugh escapes from her now swollen lips.

“And as always, I achieved the goal. The hot local rockstar is sleeping on my bed tonight.” No matter how hard he tries, he can never catch her off guard and he always ends up being the one blushing. She kisses him softly before getting up and taking the song lyrics back. “Luke, do you mind if I sing a bit of the song?”

“Of course not, it's yours. I will accompany you with the guitar, from the pre-choir?”

She nods and begins to sing the words he wrote for her. “Life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on, let's run.”

She is reading the choir as she sings and the urge to cry reappears. He's basically telling her that she no longer has to go on living life alone, that she can lean on him, she can trust him to fight by her side. That it can be us instead of I.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together. Bright forever.”

As soon as they finish singing Luke puts the guitar aside and goes over to wipe the tears from the girl's face. “I know that at first glance it doesn't seem like a love song, but..."

“But it is. It’s perfect, thank you Luke.” She didn't know that someone other than her could make her feel so special, but he proved her wrong, again.

The night before was like a dream. Y/N sleeping with his shirt while he wrapped her completely in his arms, singing softly in her ear and leaving little kisses on her neck every few verses until she fell asleep. At this point there is no way to deny how completely in love he is with her.

“Man, we need to talk.” His blonde friend wakes him up from his daydream and starts pulling him down the hall to an empty table in the cafeteria, where Reggie is already waiting for them.

They both sit down and Alex takes a deep breath as he plays with his fingers, trying to form coherent sentences with the words in his head. “Bobby called last night.” Luke's gaze instantly shifted to disgust, while Reggie looks quite shocked.

“So? What did he want?” Luke whispers, trying to sound disinterested.

“He sent some of our videos to an important person at Destiny Management and they are interested in the band. He said that if we comply with certain requests he will give the money for us to record the demo this Friday so that it’s ready for the appointment."

“And I guess you told him we don't need him or his money. What did he answer you? He cried?" the guitarist asks with an amused face, but his friends just look at each other.

“Don't you think we should think more about it? What happens if we don't win nationals? We’ll have lost something as sure as Bobby's deal for nothing."

“She’s my friend and I love her but I have to agree, Luke. As difficult as it is, our priority has to be Sunset Curve, not Spectacular"

“But-”

“They are right, Luke.” All three look at the girl, as pale as If they had seen a ghost. “Spectacular is my dream, And I know I'd do anything for it. It would be unfair of me to get angry because you’re fighting for yours. Don't hesitate, if anyone can find a way out of this it's me.”

“But, the duet...”

“I’ll just have to be the melody and the words. I’ll be fine, and honestly I'm so proud of you guys, I know you will be rock legends one day.” All three feel guilty but don't know what to say or do to make it right. She goes over to hug the drummer and the bassist who take her in their arms with all their strength, a “I’m so sorry” from the blonde accompanied by an “I know” from the girl can be heard. Then she stands in front of the guitarist and kisses his lips intensely, but breaking away painfully fast. The guys leave lovers alone for a moment of privacy.

“I believe in you, baby. You are destined to be a star, forget everything else, even me. Take the moment and knock them off their feet.” She kisses him lightly on the lips and walks a few steps back. “This month was the happiest of my life in a long time, thank you. Guess I’ll see you guys around.”

“Why do you sound like you are saying goodbye? And a horrible one? I thought you were good at everything.” Luke walks over to her again and places his hands on her cheeks, rubbing them gently. His voice is shaky and his eyes are glassy, she snorts at his sudden taunt, a little smile covered with the tears.

“Once everyone gets back to their own business, do you think you'll still have time for me? Alex is my damn neighbor, and we couldn't keep in touch.” And Luke gets it. She is used to being alone, to people not being permanent in her life. Neither her parents, nor her best friend, nor her boyfriend, nor anyone else has stayed. So this time to protect herself she decided that he too was going to leave, that it would be foolish to think that he of all possible people would stay.

“I‘m not letting you go baby, you're the only one I would let to boss me around.” The girl laughs when she remembers the millions of times she had to correct him and how he always ended up making her blush in some way, especially when they danced. She can't remember telling him but dancing with him has been the most special thing she has ever experienced. She danced with Damian for years and it never felt like the first time Luke put her long, strong hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. She can only hope to feel that way again one day.

“You are my one and only, firecracker. We’ll find a way, neither of us is a quitter.”

They say that actions are worth a thousand words, and Luke had definitely missed his first chance to show Y/N that he was serious about them by not getting in time to wish her good luck before she left with the group to the city of the competition, a few hours from there. He couldn't help but feel more miserable when he returned to the studio and found a small yellow sheet in his journal.

“You got this, rockstar. I have so much faith in you, so go make me proud. And I don’t want you feeling guilty, okay? I always want to see you shine, baby, no matter what. Your firecracker, Y/N.” Luke laughs softly, dazzled by her attempt to be sweet. If she trusts him so much, why doesn't he return the favor? She assured him they could win and when she says something, she follows through.

Why ruin his life with all of Bobby's ridiculous demands while ditching his girl in the process when he can go sing with her and do band things their way, without selling their soul to the devil. He sits on the couch thinking about what to say to the boys when they both rush in and pick him up, one from his feet and the other from his arms.

“What the hell are you two planning this time?” Luke sounds annoyed but does nothing to stop them from moving him, they throw him into the back of the car and he hits his head, getting him to kick them before they close the door.

"I'm not going to let her down again, I can’t."

"Yeah, and surely we can win, the number is spectacular... do you understand what I did there?”

Alex rolls his eyes and Luke smiles. They drive at full speed to Luke’s for him to take all his things and when he returns to the car, stands thoughtfully by the window.

“What are you doing?!” Alex is not having it, looks like a vein is going to burst from stress any second now.

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Questioned the guitarist, clearly nervous.

“If you stop asking stupid as fuck questions and get in the car, maybe.” Luke pouts but listens and finishes loading everything in the trunk.

The road is full of music to try to calm all the nerves, there was also plenty of time to rehearse the number over and over again, Luke analyzing in his mind every move he had to make, from time to time his bossy girl correcting him in his head. The only difficult thing was probably changing into the costumes, especially for Alex.

They arrive directly to register and the band turns pale when they hear the powerful and breathtaking voice of the singer who is playing her solo right now, a heavenly version of 'Never enough’. By the time they are ready to go, the main number has already started, the imposing woman in the very center of the stage with one of the boys of the group, who although does not have the voice of the guitarist, is making a good effort. Damian is on the other side, staring at her with a superiority smirk and Luke can't help but want to punch him.

“I never realized how anyone could make everything so right, I was so sad, you brought me back.” Alex quickly indicates to him how to enter the stage from the back, and Luke prepares to jump in time for the chorus, taking care of not being seen as he climbs the platform. The song is an old pop-rock song from the 80s, specifically chosen to make the guitarist's voice shine. He and his firecracker sat listening to music for hours until they finally found it, the girl's eyes shining with excitement as she imagined all she could do with the potential of the melody.

“You give me something to believe in, after all that we've been through.” He appears on the platform just in time, the lights and smoke coming out right in his grand entrance. Y/N turns immediately upon hearing her voice and he dances his way towards her.

“The love you give, it all comes back to you. You give me something to believe in, you can see the real me. And here with you is where I'm meant to be.” both singing together the remainder of the chorus and dancing to the beat. The biggest smile he has seen in his girl since he met her on her beautiful face. With that he feels satisfied with his decision, whatever happens, win or lose, it was worth it.

“And here we are together side by side, and nothing seems impossible tonight.” the duet between them is electrifying as always, he puts his hands on her thighs and lifts her with ease, both of them moving and enjoying themselves as if they were the only ones in the place. The dance ends as the first time they danced in the auditorium when he showed her that he was the right option, he holds her with one arm, their lips inches from touching but holding the magnetism back for a few more seconds until finally leave the stage.

As soon as they are backstage Y/N throws herself at Luke, wrapping her legs around his hips and devouring his lips with hers. “Someone missed me.” Luke whispers catching his breath.

"I can't believe you guys did this for me." Expressed the girl as she turns to see her other two friends, still wrapped around Luke who has her tightly held with his huge arms around her butt.

“We trust you as much as you trust us. We know that you will win, you worked like nobody for this moment.” Affirmed the blonde, giving her a small kiss on the forehead.

“I feel like I won already.” And she did. She won the trophy, the money for the demo, friends, and a ridiculously gorgeous rockstar who drove her crazy in more ways than one. All this years working hard were finally worth it... and Damian throwing a tantrum in the middle of the stage felt good too, not gonna lie.

“When are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend? As much as I love you more than anything, a man has to have some pride, you know? We've been together for like 5 months and I'm getting desperate.” They are both lying together on the girl's bed, their legs intertwined as he makes little circles with his fingers on his girl's stomach.

She raises her head resting her hand on his bare chest, her thoughts impossible to read. What are you talking about? I'm waiting for you to ask me!” He chuckles, prepared to tease her. “Bu-”she interrumpts him, pushing the hand that is resting on him to sit down. “Ba-”

“Wait a second, Lucas!” He bites his lip, he never liked being called by his name but for some reason it sounds incredibly sensual when she says it. “Yeah, baby?”

“D- did you say you love me?”

“I did, and I do. Everybody knows you've got me trapped in your claws.” He jokes to make her laugh, and he succeeds.

“I love you too, so much.”

“I know baby.” He winks teasingly at her. “Returning to the topic, you are the most bossy and confident person I have ever met, and you want to tell me that you were waiting for me to take the first step? Doesn’t sound like my firecracker. You literally pretended to be a sunset curve super fan to get my attention.”

"I totally did, I was awesome, first thing next day you were at the auditorium.” She says proud while Luke rolls his eyes with a smile. “But if it makes you feel better, I'm 100% a fan now, and...You are completely right, for once.”

She takes a deep breath, intertwining her fingers with his. “Lucas Patterson, I want you, if we're being honest, probably from the first time I saw you at that Sunset Curve gig we met at. You are annoying, cocky, passionate, and I love you with all my heart. Be my boyfriend... please.”

“There it is, that’s my girlfriend.” His eyes full of lust after hearing that she wanted him from the first night, he draws her closer to him to push his lips against hers, his girlfriend's tongue quickly dancing with his.

"Oh my god, we already talked about this, close the damn window, I don't want to hear it!” The blonde cries from his balcony, the couple can't help but laugh before joining their lips again.

Thank you for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713 @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @txrii @tuttigunner @dpaccione @justalittleweirdoo @mrstodorooki @averyharrypotterlife

#luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp #luke patterson #luke patterson fanfic #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson imagines #jatp imagine #jatp fanfic #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp one shot #jatp luke #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine

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mmvalentine · 3 years

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The Pianist pt 1 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Okay so this is the first time I'm trying a Jurdan AU, dunno how's gonna go so don't get too excited okay?

*Update: Read part 2*

Jude had lived in the same apartment for years, and refused to leave. It was small, but rent controlled, and there was no way she could afford to stay in New York if she lived anywhere else. So despite the feeling that she was slowly going insane, she stayed.

The apartment building was not too far from the Juilliard school, and Jude both hated and loved this about her place. Of course all she had ever wanted to do was make music, but she was raised by a single father who remarried a woman who hated her, and a performing arts school was just never in the cards for her. She hadn’t even finished high school- left home young, went somewhere she could be surrounded art, and tried to be content living life among artists even if all she could do was wait tables for snotty rich conservatory students.

The worst of all of them was Cardan.

Cardan lived in the apartment above hers, and of course he was gorgeous and talented and stupid wealthy. From the titter around the local diner, Cardan was supposed to be some kind of wunderkind, even among the Juilliard crowd. This part, Jude did not dispute. She had listened to him practice on his grand piano at home, countless nights. What she despised was that he only seemed to play between the hours of 8pm and 4am, as if being skilled meant that one did not have to adhere to social rules of common courtesy.

What he did the rest of the day appeared, from the noises above her and from her not infrequent sightings of him around the building, was wake late, drink heavily, and sleep around. Jude was fairly sure his parents were bankrolling everything, from rent to booze, and it infuriated her.

Here she was, working three jobs just to exist near music. Sure, Cardan put the piano hours in. But if he was good now, what would he be like if he actually put effort in? What could he create if he wasn’t drunk or high all the time? How could his career fly if he was trying to make actual network connections instead of just talking girls into bed? Talent and money were wasted on Cardan and Jude hated him for it.

And then of course there was the fact that Cardan was just plain rude.

Jude told herself that this is the real reason she is typing out her eleventh email to the landlord, citing her tenant’s right to quiet enjoyment while half delirious at 2am. There were three and a half hours until she was supposed to be getting up for her first shift, and Cardan was playing like he’s got an extra pair of hands. Jude had tried to talk to other residents about this, but every time she brought up his name they just beamed and said “Yes, aren’t we lucky that Juilliard’s best student lives here, right in our apartment building!”

And so night after night, Jude lay in bed with a headache building between her eyes, composing letters of complaint in her head and only only very special occasions actually sending them.

On this particular night, Cardan played in bursts. Classical music that Jude didn’t recognise at a furious speed, then breaking off half way as if forgetting. Bright show tunes, then nothing again. Dramatic cinematic soundscapes, and then lapsing into silence. The jarring lurching was worse than when he played non-stop.

Jude found that the background light of her laptop hurt her eyes, and eventually she hit send and then went back to bed, where she pulled her pillow over her head. Every time Cardan stopped, she would just fall asleep only to be woken again, until he finally stopped altogether but Jude could no longer relax because she didn’t trust the silence.

In the end, she started doing what always helped her fall asleep. Sang her mother’s old lullabies quietly to herself, until she had calmed down enough to drift off.

///////

Cardan couldn’t sleep.

Cardan could never sleep, had had insomnia for as long as he could remember. When he was younger, it was sort of fun. He would stay up and read books under his covers with a flashlight, or write songs when everyone else was asleep.

As an adult, it just felt horrendous. All the time. He was always exhausted, his eyes always hurt, and when he tried to sleep he just lay in the dark with his thoughts running too fast around and around his head.

The alcohol used to help. A few glasses of wine before bed would make him drowsy, even if it did mean he woke up half way through the night feeling slightly dizzy. Now, it didn’t help him sleep as such, but being drunk was still better than being awake, and worse came to worse he would eventually pass out if he kept on drinking. Which was almost like sleep.

Tonight was particularly bad. His parents had let him know that they would be in town for the end of term concert, which was never good. His older siblings were all in high up and important roles- a senator, a partner in a law firm, a surgeon. And then there was him- the youngest and the dumbest and the novelty child of the family.

It didn’t actually matter that he was good and he knew it. Didn’t matter that he had started receiving media attention for his talent. He was still just playing at being musician and his parents were indulging him until he grew up and got a real job.

Cardan had tried to distract himself by spending the evening at Nicasia’s place, but she was smoking joints and he couldn’t stand the smell. So eventually he left and sat at the piano for a few hours, but nothing was coming together. Usually, his fingers remembered even if his brain didn’t, but today he was getting half way through pieces and then finding that he just… couldn’t be bothered.

Eventually, he dragged himself back to his infernal bed, with its tauntingly soft sheets but no rest to be found anywhere. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, and willing the hours away.

Until suddenly, his ears caught a whisper of a song so soft and sweet he was sure he was hallucinating. He did that sometimes, when he hadn’t slept in a few days.

But no, it was coming from somewhere below him.

Cardan got to the floor and peeled the rug back. Pressed his ear to the vent there and sure enough, he could hear a woman singing. He strained and couldn’t quite make out the words, but there was something sad and lovely about that voice.

Moving as little as possible, so as to not rustle over the sound, Cardan adjusted his position until he was lying more comfortably on the ground, and let himself relax into the song.

The next day, Cardan would not recall how long he lay there before he fell asleep, and it was a shock to be woken by the sun, still sprawled there on the carpet.

****

Literally nothing planned, no idea where this is going just thought I'd start and see where we end up! Then again, that's me almost all the time isn't it...

Also, I am Quite Stressed today so I apologise if a) I don’t make sense and b) if this story doesn’t progress as fast as we would like it to.

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish

#jurdan #jurdan fic #tfota #mine

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leiawritesstories · 3 years

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Piano for Relaxation

Happy Nessian Appreciation Week! I love these two together and I love writing them. Oh, this will be fun! *grins maniacally*

Prompt 3: Music

Warnings: Absolutely none

Word count: 1405

@nessianweek

Despite how much stress she was under, and as a pre-law student her default stress level was “high,” Nesta Archeron never failed to spend a spare bit of time at a piano. Some days, she was lucky enough to steal an hour with the University of Velaris’s prized Bösendorfer grand, which lived on the stage of the concert hall, some days she settled for the baby grand in the recording studio, and some days, she was relegated to one of the crappy and usually out-of-tune uprights in the practice rooms.

This Thursday evening, she’d managed to get into the performing arts hall before it “closed” for the night. She scoped out the practice rooms and recording studio, mentally scratching the studio off her list of pianos since the “recording in progress” light above the door glowed red. Daring a peek into the concert hall, she smothered a little squeal. The stage door was unlocked, and probably would be for the rest of the night, leaving her free to play the best quality piano on campus.

She carefully placed her messenger bag by the leg of the piano, retrieved her worn brown leather music portfolio, and set it on the piano’s smooth music rack. Going through her usual warm-up motions, she stretched her fingers and hands, shook out her wrists, and rolled her neck. Then, with a musician’s soft pre-performance exhale, she lowered her hands to the polished ivory keys and began.

With scales, of course. How else would a musician begin practicing? Fifteen years of piano had ingrained a set of warm-up exercises into Nesta’s muscle memory, and she played methodically through each, from scales to arpeggios to rhythmic exercises, chord progressions and exercises, and her old nemesis, octaves and tenths.

Now fully warmed up, Nesta opened her portfolio, closed her eyes, and leafed through the scores, opening her eyes after a brief moment. Her gaze landed on the page and swept to the top, seeking the piece’s title. As it happened, she’d passed the first page, so she flipped back a few pages to reach the beginning.

Rachmaminoff Piano Concerto no. 2 in C Minor, Op 18, II: Adagio sostenuto.

A favorite.

And an extra challenge to play solo, sans the orchestral cues.

Nesta debated pulling up a recording of the concerto for background, but decided against it. Using the cues and her knowledge of the concerto, she merely played the first few chords, then slipped gracefully into the floating melody, doing her best to make the music a true sostenuto.

Her whole focus shifted to her hands on the keys as she played, all sense of her surroundings lost to the lush concerto. Rachmaninoff might have been one of the banes of pianists’ existence, but damn her if she didn’t love playing him. Especially as her very favorite mid-movement run came up. Her fingers flew over the keys in an intricate dance, rolling out the spritely chords and arpeggios, trilling up to the top of the phrase, and slowly descending back into adagio. This movement, one of her comfort pieces, never failed to drive away the pressures of her degree, not even when she was playing bits of orchestral accompaniment with the piano solo.

So deeply lost in the music was she that she didn’t even register the footsteps that crossed the stage, or the presence of another person by the piano.

Her consciousness lifted from the piano as she played the final chords, letting them decrescendo into silence before opening her eyes. And then nearly slamming her knee into the underside of the keyboard as she started.

“God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” gushed the blonde woman standing by the back of the piano. “I just heard Rach II coming from the hall and had to listen, and then find out who was playing it so brilliantly.”

Nesta flushed. “I’m all right, and so is the Bösendorfer, and thank you so much but I’m definitely not brilliant.”

“Yes, yes you are. Or at least that was. I’ve played piano for fourteen years, myself, and never once have I been able to perform Rachmaninoff like that. Aelin Galathynius, by the way,” said Nesta’s audience.

“Nesta Archeron. Fifteen years, myself. And before you ask, no, I’m not a music major. That’d suck all the joy out of playing.”

Aelin nodded. “Amen to that, and nice to meet you, Nesta. I’m not in music either, but I do play sometimes, usually when I need an escape from the living hell that is cardiology. I’m hoping and planning to be a surgeon. Hooray for expensive schooling!”

“Good Lord, that sounds horrible. But as an aspiring lawyer, I’ll toast to years and years of expensive school and then more years of struggling to pay student loans on a crappy salary.”

“Ooh, a lawyer. Do you have a specialty in mind?”

“Civil, preferably business litigation. I want nothing more than to stop corruption and see that companies are receiving all of their rights, and this is my path to that goal.”

“Impressive. So is Rachmaninoff just a side hobby of yours, then?”

Nesta smirked. “Yes and no. Yes, it’s not my main focus, but no, it’s more than a hobby. It’s how I relieve the intense stress of my life.”

“Me, too,” grinned Aelin. “You know, there are currently two grands on this stage…”

Nesta looked across the stage, where the music department’s other grand, a mahogany Steinway, sat. “That there are. Care to join me? You pick the piece.”

Aelin’s grin turned devilish. “Good thing I warmed up in the recording studio, then.”

Nesta smothered the questions she longed to ask as Aelin carefully folded back the cover of the Steinway, sat down, and shook out her hands.

And launched into the opening chords of Saint-Saëns’s Danse Macabre.

With a smirk to match Aelin’s, Nesta took up the phrase. Fresh indeed was the memory of playing this very piece as a duet at age sixteen, with her teacher as the second pianist. Two skilled pianists plus two excellent-quality pianos plus one magnificent piece equaled the notes echoing through the dark, empty concert hall. The Danse wound down, final notes fading into silence, and Aelin and Nesta looked at each other and burst into a two-woman round of applause. Which somehow became a six-hand round of applause, causing both women to turn sharply toward the stage door and notice a broad male frame taking up most of the doorway. Nesta rolled her eyes.

“You know, most people would either walk away when the piece ended or make their presence known to the pianist,” she deadpanned.

Cassian Ilnair flicked on a backstage light, granting a view of the grin creeping across his face. “I’m not ‘most people,’ sweetheart.”

“That much is obvious.”

Observing the exchange between the two, Aelin smirked, closed and covered the Steinway, and headed for the door. “I’d better leave you lovebirds alone. Whatever you do next, don’t do it on the Bösendorfer!” Snickering, she left the concert hall, footsteps clicking off towards the dorms.”

“She seems delightful, who was that?” inquired Cassian.

“Aelin Galathynius, probably my new piano person,” was Nesta’s reply. “Now if you’re done gawking at a real instrument, I need to close up the piano, finish an argument and sleep, preferably in that order.”

“You won’t play for me?”

“Cass, I’m entirely sure you just listened to that whole duet and probably some of the Rach I played before that.”

Cassian widened his eyes in innocence. “But that wasn’t for me, Nes. And Aelin’s right, you are brilliant.” He placed a finger to Nesta’s lips. “No protesting, Lawyer Archeron, you and I both know I tell no lies.”

Nesta snorted. “Right. I am serious about the sleep, though.”

“I know, I know. Far be it from me to deny a chronic insomniac her precious sleep.”

“Uh huh. About as far as your bed is from your minifridge full of caffeine and alcohol.”

“Touché, sweetheart.”

Closing the stage door behind her, Nesta headed for the campus apartment buildings, Cassian at her side.

“I mean it, Nesta. You’re a brilliant pianist, whether or not you believe it. And you’re going to make an even more brilliant lawyer, sleep or no sleep.”

“Don’t be smarmy, Cass.” But she was smiling, softly, as her fingers tapped out a bit of Rachmaninoff on the soft, worn leather of her sheet music portfolio.

#nessianweek2021 #nesta archeron #cassian #my writing

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intoanothermind · 4 years

Text

Bright - Luke

Word Count: 1.3k

- Luke x reader

Synopsis: you are the shy sister of the drummer of Sunset Curve. You’re also a very talented musician, but are too shy to pursue it. But when your brother, your boyfriend and your friend die before their biggest concert, you decide to play music in their honour.

Masterlist

(This is my first time writing straight to English, instead of first in Portuguese and then translated, so a few sentences might not be written correctly. Make sure to check out my Reggie ones as well!)

Stand Tall - Reggie imagine

Flying Solo - Reggie imagine

Akai Ito - Reggie imagine (soulmate au)

—

Seeing her brother and his friends rehearsing for their big night was incredible. Y/N knew they were good, but was never really there when they performed, so she felt really proud when they invited her to see them on the stage of the Orpheum. They finished playing Now or Never and followed Bobby when he went to the tables to talk to a girl. Y/N raised an eyebrow and opened a small smile to that before looking back down to her journal. Bobby was never one to talk smoothly to girls.

“What are you doing?” Y/N jumped at the sudden voice in front of her.

It was Luke.

She smiled shyly, considering closing the journal, but it’s not like Luke haven’t seen her notes.

“Just a few lyrics thrown here and there.” she answered, leaning over to kiss his lips, not really caring if he was sweaty.

“I don’t think I’m okay with seeing my little sister kissing someone.” Alex interrupted them.

“I don’t think you have a choice anymore.” Reggie laughed.

Y/N smiled shyly at them and blushed. “You were incredible up there, boys.”

“Thank you, milady.” Reggie said, bowing to her and making her let out a small laugh.

“But I think you would be too if you played these songs.” Luke said, reading through her journal over her shoulder.

Alex hugged her slightly. “I agree, you write some pretty good songs.”

“No, no, no.” Y/N answered almost too quickly. “This is just... This is just a hobby, I would never have the courage to sing in front of people.”

“Well, I think you should at least consider it.” Reggie said. “Imagine how cool it would be if we opened each other concert!”

Y/N smiled at the scene playing on her mind, but she knew that probably would never happen. She was just too shy to try it.

“Who knows.” That was all she said.

“We’re going for some street dogs before the show, would you like to join?” offered Alex.

“Minus Bobby, he’s too busy flirting with the waitress.” Reggie pointed to the fourth part of the band on the other side of the room talking to a curly-haired girl.

“No, I’m good.” she said. “I’ll wait for you guys here.”

Alex and Reggie walked to the door, but Luke waited for a bit. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to wait for you guys in the VIP area.”

“Alright, we’ll be right back.”

Luke made sure to kiss her one more time before joining the boys. Y/N went back to working in her lyrics, not knowing this would be the last time she saw them.

~*~

“Now that we know the plan worked, we need to work on the set list for tonight.” Julie suggested. They just had the confirmation of they playing in the Orpheum that night, hopefully in time for the boys to solve their unfinished business and cross over. “I was thinking Stand Tall as the first song. It would vibe with Y/N’s songs as well.”

“Y/N?” asked Reggie, looking up from his bass. “I thought we were opening for Panic! At the Disco.”

“I thought so too, but apparently Panic is tomorrow and Y/N is today.” she explained.

“Who’s Y/N?” Alex got up from his drums and approached the girl, feeling his heart beating hard in his chest.

“You guys probably don’t know her, she started her career after your death. Let me google her.” Julie took her phone and searched for the singer. “Her songs are pretty good and she’s really famous nowadays, but she likes to play often at the Orpheum. She never said why, just that it was a special place for her. Here.”

The boys approached her and stood shocked when recognized the woman.

“That’s... That’s...” Reggie struggled to talk.

“That’s my little sister!” exclaimed Alex, still surprised.

“What?!”

“Yes, and she was Luke’s girlfriend.” Reggie said.

Luke took Julie’s phone to see the picture up close and opened a sad smile. “She still has the same soft eyes.”

“I never knew she knew you guys.” Julie said. “But thinking about it, she always dedicated her performances to her brothers and their friends. Said it was their dream to make music.”

“She was always a great musician as well.” Alex said, feeling nostalgic. “But she was always too shy to try.”

“Yeah, but she was always walking around with a journal full of lyrics.” Luke said.

“Do you guys think she’ll be okay if she sees you in the stage?”

The ghosts shared a hesitant look.

~*~

Y/N was excited to see this new hologram band. She never heard of it before, but she got curious over it when she heard they were opening her concert instead of Downside. Normally she would be in her dressing room until she had to go upstage, trying to calm her nerves and thinking about her lost brother and friends. That’s why she kicked her shyness to a dark room in her mind and pursued a career in the music industry. It was their dream to play music and connect with people. When she lost the most important people in her life, she decided not to let her nerves interfere, just like Luke always told her. If playing music was how she felt connected with them, so be it - she’ll do it.

But for some reason she felt like she should watch the opening performance. Call it a sixth sense, but this time, she didn’t stay in the dressing room. When she heard a girl starting a speech in the stage, Y/N walked out and stayed at the corner of the venue, listening.

The girl up in the stage was young. Probably had the age Y/N had when her friends died. But she sure did had a voice of a angel. And played the piano like a experienced professional. Y/N smiled, feeling the emotion in Julie’s voice rushing through her as well. But then something happened. At first Y/N got confused. The hologram drummer that appeared in the stage looked too similar to her brother. When bassist appeared though, Y/N got into a shocked state. And she started crying when the guitarist appeared as well. That wasn’t possible. As much as Y/N liked to think they were still there somehow, they couldn’t be there. But they seemed too real, running around while playing and interacting with Julie. When they walked on the bridge tough, Luke’s eyes caught her own. His eyes shined and his smile widened. Right before they disappeared, Luke pointed Alex in her direction and her brother smiled and waved discreetly.

Julie waved to the crowd even after the boys disappeared. But Y/N was still getting over state of shock. It wasn’t possible. Unless...

“Y/N, you’ll be up in the stage in ten minutes.” a crew member put her attention back to reality. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” her voice was a bit raspy. She coughed before speaking again. “Yeah, I’m alright. But I need a favour. It’s kinda of important.”

“Sure, what is it?” the man asked.

“Can you put me in contact with Julie and the Phantoms?”

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantom spoilers #julie #luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp reggie #jatp alex #jatp luke x reader #jatp alex x reader

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savorysatori · 3 years

Text

— FEATURING: ˗ˏˋ 𝘾𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙔 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇! ˎˊ-

“You gon’ meet a billion hands, ooh. She’s just like candy, she’s so sweet, but you know it ain’t real cherry.”

— SYNOPSIS. cutie pie were you? doting too. you stood out, he knew you. hinata adored you. his lil’ candy girl from his love-filled heart.

WARNINGS. car sex, creampie, full nelson. exhibitionism, lots of cum, unprotected sex. slight gagging, tiny bit of anal said, spit play. guitarist!hinata, a bit of cunt spanks, producer!reader. praise + suckin fingers, aheago face, oral. use of the pet name, “cherry”.

% WORD COUNT. 5.3k.

leader’s notes. HIIII! HELLO! before I say anything, big thanks to my lil cheri for letting me join this wonderful collab! ur the sweetest babe, and I hope you all enjoy this<3 pss- wanna listen to music while reading this? here’s a playlist!

✭ @loveatsutani, ROLLING LOUD COLLAB. MWAH!

You were both hazy under the buzzing of fluorescent lights. Flash after flash it drew you and him closer together, drowning out the cries of the crown from below. Starstruck. Heart eyes with adoration flooding through the both of you. “A lil’ dumb are we?”

“And, that’s it folks! Make your way to the exit of the building to your right. Amazing night wasn’t it everyone? Give props to Shoyo!”

The sound of the intercom fell deaf to Hinata's ears. His guitar slumped down against his chest, hot and sweaty with the tee sticking to him. He couldn't hear himself think. His fingers writhed along the strings as if the notes he plucked could somehow find him again. His eyes searched the crowd of musicians, trying to find one face in the sea of faces. Yet, as he looked at them all, there was nothing but blank stares and half-smiles. He didn't know what he was expecting; seeing you come in with a smile that lit up everyone’s gloomy mood. Maybe you would have congratulated him on his performance. Or maybe you would have given him some encouragement. Or maybe, just maybe, you would have laughed and teased him a bit. Didn't matter, he was glad to see you.

You were a lone woman in a long orange dress standing on the edge of the stage, fanning yourself. You waved to the crowd now and then, but your eyes were glued to him as you walked by.

"Don't get distracted, now." Swiftly your eyes moved down to the rows of empty seats before they darted back up to him. "I can only imagine how long this song took to learn."

His fingers strolled across the strings, creating a beautiful melody. His eyes looked up to the dimming lights now and then as if seeking divine guidance from above. "Most performers here can't play worth a damn," you heard him mutter, his eyes still on his fingers as they worked. He played for you as if you were the only one in the room. The only one who could hear the song he was composing. You sat in awe, watching his fingers dance across the strings. You knew he was capable of such skill, you've heard it all. Thou, freestyles like this could only make you grin in awe. But this was a private concert. You had no choice but to sit quietly and enjoy the performance. His fingers stopped on a string, catching in the middle, an echo of the melody ringing through the silence.

"The saddest sound," you heard him say as he slid his fingers off the strings.

You were about to clap, but he waved his hand for silence. "I'd rather have you hear the rest of that crap with you all bubbly." He sat up and began clapping softly to encourage you. You couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he was. At this time you could have left. With the way things were going, he'd compose more songs just for you. But then he wouldn't have to share this moment with you.

"Hinata, rolling loud is in a few days .. let's get to work." You pushed away the scatted papers of all the same lyrics, meaning the same thing. They were scattered all over the floor, on him and directly on you. You wiped the traces of sweat and some sort of strange fluid from your forehead. Still, he was smiling.

"I know, cherry. Ya don’t have to remind me every day.” You heard him chuckle as he turned back to his guitar, stringing it back up with familiarity. He sat there for what seemed like an eternity as the silence consumed you. Biding your time, you could finally talk to him at any moment. "Ahem… so what's that?" You pointed to the sheet of music in his hands.

You were much better at those games, but he won anyway.

"Do you want to hear it?" He stopped playing, waiting for your reply.

You gulped as you nodded slowly. Anything to hear his songs again. You weren't sure how long the silence lasted, but it seemed to stretch on forever. You felt his fingers running up and down the neck of his beloved guitar. He stopped, and you braced yourself for the upcoming melody. Slowly he began playing. It started as just a few notes, a gentle intro to the song. But those notes carried a feeling of their own, slowly building with every pass. His hands caressed the strings as he played, his face was scrunched up in concentration. He was playing just for you.

It felt as if the whole room was just you two. His fingers dancing across the strings, you swaying side to side as you rocked in your office chair. The song ended, as did your trance. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You looked back down, hoping he hadn't seen the wide-eyed expression you were sure you had on your face. You could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Do you like it?"

For a moment, you were transported to a place unknown to you. You felt free as if held by strong hands and transported through the skies. Lifting you, your stomach fluttering as you soared. It was beautiful.

But, it was a place never to be reached again. You knew that anywhere you looked, you would only see the world as it was now. Sadly, but it had to be like that. His fingers continued to pluck at the strings, keeping you from escaping through his music. You wanted to stay here, in this world he had created for you. But, you knew that place was only ever a memory. only ever a memory. Your thighs bouncing as his fingers ran across the last string. The song had come to an end, and you were left wanting more.

"Why don't you," reached over, hands sliding to tap against his slender fingers playing along the dainty strings. "Play that again?"

As if in a trance, Hinata faced you.

Holding your gaze, his thigh slipped between the gap of yours — pulling you closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as his eyes bore into yours. He slowly began playing the intro again, only this time before he had finished, his head was flush to yours. Your noses were less than an inch apart. His breath blew warm against your cheek, you could smell the sweet citrus from the tip of his tongue, the lollipop stayed laid against his cheek, his fingers running along the backs of your hands. His warm lips kissed you. Not on the cheek, but your mouth. His luscious, red lips brushed softly against yours. Your eyes widened before you closed them. His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, as he tilted your head.

His lips caressed yours. His tongue lightly teased the seam of your lips, before delving in. The lollipop being passed between both mouths, the nectar spilling down at the side of your lips. tongues dueled, as you tilted your own to caress his. Your other hand fell to his shoulder as you held him closer. He tilted his head further, and you matched it with a small tilt of your own. His hand ran through your hair, as his tongue dueled with yours. You could feel your heartbeat against his lips, the blood flowing through your body.

You wanted more of him.

His lip pulled at your lower lip, causing you to whimper in protest. He ignored it, pulling the trapped flesh between his front teeth. He bit down gently, a slight pain shooting through you in the most sweetest way. The sweet taste of his lips lingered on your tongue, as your mind was left awash with sweet colors. Hinata pulled away, a faint blush on his cheeks. He pulled the lollipop from your mouth, watching the string of spit slide with it. He held it between his fingers, before popping it back into his mouth with a beam.

"You taste sweet, cherry."

He smirked at you, as his fingers played along the strings of his beloved instrument. "And I bet you taste even sweeter down below, right under my fingertips."

His eyes never leaving the instrument, he slowly ran his hands up your legs. You knew what he was doing, he was trying to get you into a compromising position. But, you didn't care. Maybe it was the sweet taste of your lip that still lingered on your mind, or maybe it was because you never had these types of thoughts about someone you built from the bottom to the top. Whatever the reason, you didn't care, and you wanted him to continue. He slowly lifted your knee onto his thighs. The other leg followed suit, as he situated himself to be able to lie under the both of you. His fingers ran up the back of your calf, as his face came into close range with yours.

"Hinata," you barely above a whisper, “We should be..”

"Shh." he placed a finger against your lips. "Just enjoy the moment." His free hand reached between your shoulder blades, cradling you as he laid you down. His face moved forward just enough that his lips brushed against yours as he spoke. "Does it feel good?"

The wetness between your legs pulsed as his fingers lifted your shirt up and rubbed against your bare skin.

"Tell me when."

You couldn't speak, no more than you could move. You were overwhelmed with sensation that gripped at your stomach and threatened to make you weak. His fingers teased your stomach and slipped under your dress, as he dragged his face down to nuzzle into your neck.

"Can you feel that?" he murmured, as he ground his hips into yours. You couldn't answer him, your mouth wouldn't move. It just was a feeling that had taken over your whole body, clenching and releasing at intervals.

"Do you want to feel more of it?" You wanted to yell yes, but you were starstuck. you couldn't utter anything other than a pitifully small whimper. He bit down on your shoulder, as his fingers slipped the dress off of you, clicking to the band of your panties. “Answer me, cherry.”

"Ye- yes." You didn't want him to stop, not then.

The breeze night wind blew across your body, as it began to grow colder. You couldn't feel your limbs, couldn't move them. All you could do was feel, at that moment. He tore the panties off with his teeth, as they stuck to you like a second skin. He lifted his head for just a moment, as he pulled the shreds of clothing off your body. You were left bare before the moon and him, just your purity in the beauty of youth. "Hinata..."

He lifted your knee onto his shoulder. His hands wrapped around your waist as he dipped his head down, his lips running along the inside of your thigh. You couldn't hold back any longer, a strangled cry escaping your lips as you gripped onto his hair. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your most intimate flesh, and the vibrations that ran through it. He began to suckle on it, swirling his tongue around it and teasing the entrance with the tip of his tongue. You could feel the orgasm overtaking you, and you were helpless against it. Your body tensed up in another wave of shuddering before it finally passed, covered in a rash of wet heat. Afterward, you laid there pathetically weak in the aftermath of your pleasure. You felt limp as a ragdoll, as your body pulsed with waves of pleasure. You couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't speak.

He made his way back up your body, stopping to lick himself off as he went. When he reached your lips, he planted a chaste kiss on them before saying, "You taste good." He smiled at you, grinning as he stood up from the couch, taking the guitar as well but leaving you to collect each thought tapping against your skull. Hinata made your heart swell, for your body to thump when he was near. Tousled orange hair to gleam with his brown eyes, widened with surprise. Hands as pale as moonlight to grasp at air, body limp and weak from having had its will defied. But bright smile to row the crowds awake, his skill and his willpower.

He was sheer beauty. He was the sun. Hinata wooed you, as you swam in the emotion of his voice. You were entranced by his presence and his voice. With every note he plucked, you could feel the strings of your soul being strummed. Your own gentle, quiet voice reverberated at his concerts, as you felt the energy flood through you. He filled your chest with joy, your heart swelling as you heard him sing the songs you made him. You never wanted it to end, the two of you performing under candlelight.

All too soon, the end came.

The curtain fell, and you found your place among the workers backstage. On the stage, you could see him, in all his glory. His strong, slim arms weaved above his head as he pushed down, the strings of his electric guitar reverberating as he let out a long, slow breath through his white teeth. He stared into the crowd with a flinty gaze, as his hair fell into his eyes. When he looked to the side, pushing it aside with a smooth of the wrist, his eyes caught yours for a brief moment. He gave you a quick wink before returning to his stare into the crowd. Your chest swelled as he performed, his voice and the music lifting your mood. Your cheeks tinged with color as you watched his performance with a smile stretching from ear to ear.

He was pure energy, powerful, and sure of himself as he tore through the songs you knew and made you feel things for the first time. Electric guitar to scream the high notes of the songs, as he vibrated the strings into breaking. To pound the snare drum with a fury that could only be matched by your own. To tear through the notes of the songs with deadly accuracy, as he made you feel every emotion possible through music. He held you spellbound, as he moved with the music and changed before your eyes. He was a whirlwind, a breath of fresh air in a dreary world. It all felt so familiar to you, to see him there. But for him as well — to see you backstage watching his performance, just how doting you were. Hinata adored you, a girl he felt love struck from.

You, the only one who knew what his music meant to him. His beaming smile and twinkling eyes were just playacting for the crowd's eyes, but you knew what he was really like. The strumming from the guitar with the claps of the drums, the flashing of the lights, and the roar of the crowd all made you feel alive. He moved with the music, a single entity with the sound as it became one with him. You were part of that sound, as you let go of everything and drowned in the music.

With a sudden, unexpected burst of energy, he jumped off the stage and into the crowd. Hands raised in the air and screaming as the fans gave him around. The pounding of the music was all that filled your mind, all that aired on your lips. The world had lost its meaning, you were in heaven. The screams of the fans were all that reached your ears, their adoration and love for him making your smile. The screaming chorus of his name was the only thing that made you feel joy, as you waved your arms and danced in the throes of passion. The lights were bright, but you felt no pain. Your mind was set at ease, only filled with the drumming of the bass. Every single one of you stared hard, leaning forward to see Hinata strum the guitar, fingers twanging over the strings as he moved in time with the music, his head thrown back let out a loud laugh. He was alive, filling you with warm fuzzies inside. He was a part of the moment, moving with the music, lost in the crowd.

The lights flashed and the roar of the crowd was deafening, but you hardly noticed. All you could see was him, his shining mane of hair captured by the neon lights, creating a halo around his head. It was so beautiful, so fitting for the moment. It made you wanna be near him, to feel the ting between the both of you.

The sparklers shot up from the last note, the fans erupting in screams of joy. Applauding his performance widely, running onto the stage to see his sweet smile. His eyes met with yours and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. He took a long look at you, your body bathed in glittering stars. You were both hazy under the buzzing of fluorescent lights. Flash after flash it drew you and him closer together, drowning out the cries of the crown from below. Starstruck. Heart eyes with adoration flooding through the both of you.

You were in the spotlight. "A lil’ dazed, yeah?” he whispered, flashing a grin. You felt the blood rush through your ears, the beat of your heart pulsating through your veins.

"Let’s sneak away. For a bit.”

The curtains draped to hide you both, instruments placed down with padding of you and Hinata's feet, traveling from door to door till the crips breeze washed over you both. Slipping into the sleek car, staring into your eyes. The lights shined on your face, illuminating every feature of yours. You looked familiar under the lights, so beautiful. One might think you were an angel, sitting here next to him.

His hand rested on yours, sending your heart into a tailspin. You felt zero fear as he brushed his thumb softly over your skin. His fingertips grazed the base of your ring finger, a tingling sensation running through you. As he looked down at your hand, you saw his pupils dilate and flush as his breath caught in his throat. This, this was a moment. No chatter. No speaking. Only the sounds of gasps, desire from the both of you. Hands that span both of your faces, as he pulled you into him. His lips pressed against yours, strong and bold. Tasting sweet and sinfully delicious. Your eyes opened slowly, the haze cleared from your vision. Pulling apart, you stared deeply into the pools of brown that were his eyes. Passion filling them, you were at his mercy. You couldn't find it in you to resist, instead, you helped him dispose of his tee.

You heard his sharp inhale, but you made no sound. It was only the start. His hands drifted over your skin, fingers entwining with yours as he laced his fingers around your wrists. It was only as he tugged them over his head and pressed your arms back against the seat that you realized what he wanted. He kept your hands down, his mouth now working on your neck. Tongue swirling, teeth nipping, kissing all the right places. You couldn't find it in you to stop him. He had your full attention, and you couldn't fight him off, the haze of passion clouding your thoughts. The lights strobe and flicker, an anthem to the music his mouth was making as he sucked and licked, driving you into a mindless frenzy.

You want him, you can't get enough of him. His mouth was magic on your skin. Your heart raced as his tongue swirled around your fingers, the lights flashing strobe light after flash of white and yellow. You wanted more, you needed him. You were a puddle of liquid desire, a mess of lust that was on display for all to see. You wanted to be filled, he was only the one to do it. His mouth opened as he spoke your name, his lips brushing against your ear. You were at his mercy, and he wanted to give you bliss. Clothes shed, his hands running along your bare stomach, fingers clasping at the back of your neck, pulling your head back to expose your throat, the lacy ichor of your lingerings laying in a sweet crust upon your skin. The flair of his fingers moved to spread the lips of pussy, exposing the entrance but not touching it. His hands swept back, tilting your head and angling your mouth for his lips to cover.

"I want you to watch me, ’mmkay?"

You couldn't manage anything but a moan into the feverish air, the skillful fingers twisting into your slick warmth. He slid one finger into the tight ring of muscle, searching for the one spot that would make you see stars. Your head fell back as he found the spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You were nothing but a slack-jawed puppet as his fingers continued to dance upon your clit. He found it all too easy to make you shake and squirm, his name a mantra upon your lips. He moved the first one, then a second finger into your slick heat. Twisting his fingers in quick flicks and deliberate swirls that had you going wild.

He looked up, catching your eyes as he played upon your clit. He knew just how to get you going, he knew your body better than anyone. He curled his fingers into a circle, massaging the spot just inside your walls. Your body shook, your vision darkening as he continued to work you up into a frenzy, your whole body stiff and unmoving. His fingers vacated you, and were only replaced by the warmth of his lips as he pressed them against your ear.

"Keep makin' a mess, cherry." He admonished, glistening juices shined all around his fingers, slimy ichor trickling down the inside of your thigh as he waved it under your nose, his tongue snaking out to lick the sweet nectar off his fingers. You felt sick and weak at your knees, you could only watch as he maneuvered you to open your mouth. He wagged the fingers under your nose, the taste of your filth filling your nostrils as you wanted nothing more than to taste it. On instinct you let your tongue peek out, licking up the ichor that dripped from his fingers, taking up every bit of drop before it melted away.

Pleased with your efforts as you felt more of his fingers sliding into your mouth, your tongue licking and rolling around them. He withdrew his fingers, placing them to the side as he brought them closer to his face, wiggling his fingers. You couldn't speak, too stunned that he was playing with your mouth like a puppet as he inspected his fingers. You had felt shame to the fullest, cum and saliva coated your mouth, and yet, he was proud of you. His hands clasped around your waist, you were situated in his lap, cock turgid and up against your stomach, the head of him hot and slick in the soiled pants. You were all ready to take him inside you, and yet, the foreboding of his cold touch lit a fire under your skin.

"Look at you... so fuckin' pretty. So good though, yeah?" He asked as he began gently rubbing your stomach and hips, your skin hypersensitive from your earlier contact. The dirty talk, the emasculation, and the promise of pleasure if you said yes. It was too much, and you felt yourself nodding eagerly to nothing, but the wanting of him drove you desperate.

The kick of his legs was fast, the buckles coming down and his muscles tightened to keep you steady on his thighs. The other one trapped your hands against his shoulders, as you were forced into a vulnerable position. "Please, Hinata .. fuck me.” Had you gone mad? Begging for him fueled you to say more, dirty and disgusting things but not one ounce of shame had been seen from you. His hand slid down your body, palming your ass cheek and pulling you closer as he positioned his thick head just under your slit. Thick with bulging veins, long and purple with blood, the bulbous head rested against your lips, wet from your earlier efforts. It was a sight you were yearning for.

He held you close, the slow buildup of him pushing up against you, every bit of him rubbing your nether lips and sending shivers down your spine, your belly tingling. He held you close, as he slowly but surely sank into your body, descending into your pussy sublime. A long moan escaped your lips as his cock made you dizzy, your jaw, and his girth spread you open, a fire spiking up to your scalp as your teeth chattered. As he hilted himself in your body, his hand clasped around your throat, his fingers pressing against your windpipe as his thumb rested under your jaw. He held you still, your head trapped under his hand as you were fucked ruthlessly.

The sweet bliss of him filling you up, the pain that brought tears to your eyes as he withdrew only to slam back into you. Your mind became hazy, all pain wiped away as he relentlessly drilled you. Each thrust brought you to the height of pleasure, as he used your body for his blissful haze, taking you away into oblivion. His name became nothing but a whisper, as you were left breathless, your mind unable to comprehend anything other than his thrusts. Each time he pulled out, your mind screamed out at you. He was taking your mind with him, and there was nothing you could do about it. Hinata knew just how you felt, tasted, sweet just like candy. So sweet and he couldn't be deprived of it, your tightening sex eased him to a fucked out state. His brown eyes met yours and the only thing you could see there was satisfaction, and bliss as if you were a drug to him.

A drug he couldn't get enough of. "C'mon cherry, keep making me feel good."

You tried to say something back, some words of agreement or praise to show him how good he made you feel but all that escaped was a broken cry as his hand pressed down on your throat. With every iota of voice, you had was denied, nothing but a gasp could be coming out — your face heavy from the sweat. Your eyes crossed together, eyelashes downcast, and your mouth agape, tongue rolling out to show the complete blissed-out look.

"Give it to me, my sweet cherry. Scream all your pretty vocals to me." His hand disappeared from your throat, sliding to the tight hole below your soaked pussy. He prodded at it, slick and ready for his fingers to invade it. You panted, trying to push him off but he held you down, ready to finger your ass and make you feel good. It was a tight fit with the head of his cock buried to the brim in your pussy, the perception had made you feel something too good for your good.

Your cumming blinded you in pleasure, your walls tightening around him as it brought you to the edge of sanity. Globs of your fluids flooded out, dripping down his cock as he kissed you with every thrust. Wet, messy tongues entwined as the sweetest feeling of ecstasy came over you. His palm erupting a squeak from your bitten-on lips, colliding down onto your cunt. Every inch of your body twitched as you were left breathless, every muscle aching and exhausted. Your limbs were heavy, unable to do anything but be held down by him.

Both your eyes were stuck to the cum dribbling down, a ring-forming as it gathered the fluid. Breathing heavy, you panted, feeling the air stream hit your overheated skin. Everything felt sticky and hot, the sweaty bodies mixing with the cream staining to the seats of his car. And yet through the tension in the air, you both wanted more. And that's what Hinata adored of you, wanting more of the same thing. Needing it till you got it.

"Cherry, you've got me, addicted baby." Hinata's words strung a beat in your heart, a bass hammering in your head. His fingers tapping at each curve of your chin, alerting you to face up at him with need. Breathing came heavy, as he gazed into your eyes, an animalistic lust shining. You felt dirty, basked in the aura of his stare.

Dirtier, even more, when your jaw relaxed, opening up and feeling the texture of his saliva falling straight onto your tongue. The taste of him filled your mouth, and yet the aftertaste of his cock was just as sweet, making you want more. You were sweet, just like candy, that drove his teeth to cavities. Hinata liked it, either way, savored for you. His lil’ candy girl.

#hinata x reader #hinata smut #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader #rollingloud!collab🎸#cw exhibitionism #cw oral #cw spit #cw gagging #🤍.hinataa #shoyo hinata smut #shoyo hinata x reader #hinata haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut

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honeysorwell · 3 years

Text

You rush into my life, stay a little while (I know that we can have it all)

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x fem!Reader x Sally Mckenna

Word Count: 2,7k

Summary: A concert like any other was what joined the musician Sally Mckenna with Billie Dean and her girlfriend Y/N. Even when time passes and domesticity takes over the routine of the three women, Sally still feels that everything she is living with these two women is just another welcome adventure in her life, but her perspective changes, even if silently, after an unexpected gift and she ends up remembering of words said by a fortune teller decades ago.

[gif by @grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

[gif by @julianemilian0]

A/N: Hey @tltl !! I'm your Secret Santa! And I wish you the best for this holiday! I have no idea how things are in Italy, so if the situation is okay, I hope you can spend this holiday with the family you love. I promise I did my best to fulfill your wishes, and I honestly hope you like it!! Stay safe, and if you ever need a friend and feel comfortable with me, I'm here!

Warnings: I honestly believe that there is nothing that will trigger someone, but I think it's cool to warn that this is like an AU since Sally can leave the Hotel (even because she doesn't live in one) and she is absolutely NOT dead... and their relationship starts before Billie gets her television show.

Enjoy it!

When Sally’s younger self accepted a fortune teller's invitation for an experience with her, she expected nothing. Even in her teenage years, everyone in the town where she lived knew that the thing Sally wanted the most was to be a singer in the future, and even looking at the thought-provoking and incredibly flashy sign shining in shades of purple and gold, the phrase “I can tell you the greatest truth about you deeper desire”, the blonde one had some suspicious guesses about what she would hear.

Perhaps some absurd about an authorial song that would be heard on a world scale, or about a featuring with some world-renowned artists — just raw ideas that would momentarily cheer up her small, young, and a little pessimistic heart — but nothing was even close to what she received.

You will only find the love you want and wait for — intense, lifelong, and reciprocal — when you stop believing in its existence.

The blonde girl in the printed coat remembers cursing the lady before leaving the place without paying her, but the fortune teller did not seem to care and did not try to stop the teenager from escaping, and perhaps that made Sally's perception of the situation even vaguer.

She remembers thinking while she was going home with some friends, that maybe the city was too small and that was why the enigmatic woman had discovered about her recent breakup. She loved the bastard but after discovering that the boy who lived in her heart without worries was cheating her with a girl from the local religious choir, even with tears in her eyes, it was over.

The thought made sense at the time.

A teenager looking for love.

But time passed and she became an adult woman looking for love.

Sally doesn't know why she was graced by such a specific memory now, with Y/N's arms around her waist and her head lying in Billie's collarbone, who even just about to fall asleep, was still pressing her against Sally’s naked one.

It was a particularly pleasant and absolutely surprising arrangement.

In a particularly exhausting show, in which she also expected nothing from, Sally saw the two women in the audience. They seemed in love, always exchanging honest touches and sweet smiles, but even in all that passionate aura, the two pairs of eyes were always fixed on Sally.

The concert contracts offered to Sally was starting to grow significantly, as much as the price she received for each performance, as well as the size of the places that hired her, so she was rarely in the same stage two weeks in a row.

And something in her heart was happy about it.

Her social media were doing well with likes as followers growing each day, her covers had a nice number of views on digital platforms. And, more importantly, she finally stopped performing only in depressing bars — in addition to getting an audience that really paid attention to what comes out of her lips or the harmonies of her guitar — and this was very good, much more than she believed she could achieve in her early teenage days, but still, something inside Sally would like to see that couple again.

But in the following week, regardless of which bar the musician was playing in, they were there. And in the next one too. And the next one.

Only in the fifth week did one of them bought her a drink.

Y/N.

Her expression was sweet and bright, and every time she flicked her eyelashes, something inside Sally lit up. She looked a little uncertain, but still took a spare napkin and, taking a pen out of her bag, started writing on the paper.

The musician took advantage of the moment, traveling her own gaze at the pleasant woman beside her and silently wishing to use her fingers to make sure her hair is as soft as it looked, and if she smelled as good up close as it looks from a distance.

But something was wrong, especially because Y/N was alone. And even without planning to do so, Sally's focus was distracted with everything around her, looking for the owner of the blond hair who always accompanied the one beside her, and a forced breath escaped through her nose angrily and accidentally when she noticed that her search as unsuccessful since the blonde was not there. However, when a subtle introduction of herself jumped out of Y/N's tongue, and a sweet smile was directed at her... that was enough for Sally to smile back at her as she started a pleasant conversation.

Within minutes, when their cocktail party was almost over, Y/N made it clear what she intended by sharing a bar counter with the blonde musician, and Sally felt intoxicated. She always knew it was impossible for anyone not to feel intoxicated by a beautiful woman, especially when the words that slipped from her lips were so inviting, but that sounded like it was coming from another planet.

“You performed very well on stage. A true artist. No one in the audience could take their eyes off you.”, Y/N's voice was happy and loud because a new musician was performing on the stage. She was trying hard not to have her sentence drowned out by his voice, and Sally could only smile and get in her game.

"Interesting. Especially for someone who has heard me sing so many times.”, even with the dark, bluish light painting the entire surface of the entire bar, Sally was pretty sure she saw Y/N's cheeks flush.

“Oh... So... You saw us?”

No verbal response was made by the musician, she just shook her head positively before taking another sip of her own drink, patiently waiting for what Y/N would say next.

“I like to hear talented people.”, The phrase escapes her lips like nothing, and how genuine her voice sounds makes Sally's shoulders a little less tense, “And Billie believes that you have a beautiful face and talented hands. I told her that we only saw you play the guitar so we couldn't jump to conclusions.”

“I don’t know her, but I think Billie is quite a perception person, and I already like her.”, at the moment the words slip through Sally's tongue, she knew that she said something good because Y/N was smiling at her like if she was some huge and shiny toy she just won in some tough game at an amusement park.

"Billie and I would like to get to know you better... But if you are not interested in our arrangement, just know that we will continue to watch you because... you have so much talent, not because we are stalkers."

"Thank you... So, if Billie is also so interested as you said, why she is not here drinking with us?", Sally's voice sounded like all of her flirtations ones, answering the compliment with a sweet voice and asking the question with a dripping malicious amid curiosity, as she looked at the napkin Y / N had given her.

Two names and two phone numbers, but the blonde one just wanted to make sure it wasn't some kind of joke.

Some lost bet.

Some stolen kiss and a sinful night while the partner isn't looking.

"She's smoking outside, but believe me... Billie will be here in just a moment."

And, as if she knew she had been mentioned, the blonde one in question appears at the front door and walks towards the two women at the counter as if she owns the place. If the look wasn't enough to show Sally that Y/N wasn't kidding, the blonde woman's lack of subtlety in sliding her right hand over Sally's shoulder before sitting next to Y/N would show Sally that yes, she was interested too.

Billie Dean.

With her formal clothes and her sagacious desire for a television program. She was not like Y/N, stepping on eggs and sighing deeply before starting a conversation with a stranger she found attractive. Billie was quite the opposite. She knew exactly what she wanted and, when Sally accepted the invite to go on an actual date with the couple, the musician found that everything reflected in those brown eyes was pure malice, even if she was immersed in unexpected grace.

Unexpected.

And almost unexpectedly, Sally fell in love with the two women.

Unexpected loves were what ruled the life of the woman in printed clothes, but all with an expiration date. Her last love disappointment - with a tall and clear-eyed man that she forced herself for months to forget her name - was enough for the musician to stop believing in something good and permanent showing up.

So she let it go and forced herself to learn how to just take advantage of the incredible people who were going through her life for the time they here in her life.

But since Sally first laid eyes on that couple, while her fingers echoed the melody of her songs in a bar she had long since gone to, they have not stopped to surprise her.

Y/N and her apartment in pastel colors, which was the first place belonging to the couple that Sally met, almost 6 months ago. The apartment that nowadays was always full of Sally's grocery shopping. It happened in the second month when the three women went to the musician's house in search of a bottled sauce that was missing at Y/N's house for dinner, and when they stopped in a red traffic light, the suggestion flew between Billie Dean's lips automatically.

"You could just take things you like to eat at Y/N's apartment... So we would make sure that nothing you like is missing."

When the silence became thick inside the car, the medium lost the focus of her cell phone, focusing her eyes on Sally and Y/N, who was driving the car, to explain her thoughts, and so she received two heads producing affirmative nods and smiling before returning to the usual silence. After all, it is more practical for everyone to leave their groceries at the home of the person who cooked the most in the arrangement.

Two months later, Sally simply thought that bringing any groceries back to her home when she rarely spent any time there was senseless.

And that was new.

Different. Amazing. And new.

Because of all the things Sally didn't expect, the one at the top of the list was being silently presented with a new place to call home. Or rather, two new places.

Whenever Sally imagined a place that would be like her second home, her mind automatically painted the image of a studio. Large, with a few instruments, a matte wallpaper, and shiny pictures hanging on the walls. Everything in addition to a table full of paper with letters being finished.

But the present proved to be more and more surprising every day, mainly because the musician knows that she probably has more clothes in Billie Dean's house than in her own wardrobe. She also knows that her guitar and unfinished rhymes rest in the western part of Billie's office, next to the window.

It was good. New. Passionate.

But it probably has an expiration date. And for the first time, Sally believes she's okay with that.

She doesn't know why she thinks about it, and especially at that moment where the two women who live in her mind are lying and almost asleep in her arms, but still, she does.

Because she loves the simple and unique moments when she receives more affection and adoration than she imagined in a lifetime. Like when Y/N caress her hair absently after work while when she is laying down in her lap, looking for words that rhyme with the verses Sally writes. Or when Billie arrives tired of the recording studio, feeling that her energies are almost consumed and still gives her the most beautiful of all smiles when she readily accepts the musician's arms in a hug.

But her bubble of memories bursts when Billie starts to move, and then Sally needs to move away and consequently move away Y/N so that the older blonde can get up. And she does, but not before giving them an explanation.

"I forgot something, I bought it for you."

You.

It's a dangerous word, especially in their arrangement, which is why Sally remains silent as she watches Billie stagger towards the bag she used today. She is naked, with the marks of the dark lipstick that Sally's kisses painted on her legs, but the medium doesn't mind and absently rummages in her purse before, after just a few seconds, grabs a relatively large and thin velvet box in her hand, and goes back to the mattress.

Y/N is still rubbing her face, trying to dissipate the sleep that had almost taken the best of her, just to try to give Billie all of her attention, and the image is lovely even amid the marks of Sally's lipstick staining her neck. But the musician continues lying down, enjoying the view of Billie's body in front of her without even moving a muscle, until the medium opens the box and the contents of it are seen.

It is a set of jewels.

A pair of earrings and two more pieces that Sally can't quite see what they are because she doesn't catch her eye on the box. And the musician only knows that the first ones are earrings because Billie gently moves Y/N's hair out of the way before placing the jewelry gently on her ears.

It is beautiful, in gold and with only a small and delicate emerald.

A part of Sally is enchanted by Y/N's sweet smile while she thanks for the gift - which she now wears proudly - with a subtle kiss, but another part of her being almost forgotten would like the two to do it privately.

Because Sally knows that this happens - those sweet, domestic moments full of gentle kisses and loving touches that are shared only between the two woman - but since the arrangement between the three started seven months ago, the musician has never seen one of these moments and, a part of her just look away.

But fast enough, Billie has two fingers on Sally's chin, gently lifting her face until her brown eyes focus. But this intense exchange of looks quickly comes to an end, because the medium smiles and moves away, bringing the musician's line of sight into a necklace.

"I know you like your dark chokers, especially the one with the silver pendant that Y/N bought you." Billie's voice is sweet and smiling as she opens the necklace clasp.

Sally remains silent almost without blinking, like a deer caught by a car's headlights while trying to cross a highway, but everything becomes softer and easier to understand when S/N takes her hand and squeezes it while Billie continues to talk.

"So I looked for a set that had a necklace with a long, loose chain, even with a small stone because honestly, the rings with larger emerald stones were just dreadful...", at that moment the medium closed her eyes and for just one second she has a disgusted expression on her face as if the small mention of the jewels she didn’t like was something powerful enough to make her sick, but then her eyes open and her cheeks are painted a light pink before she continues, in a more whispery voice, "So you can use the necklace and your choker together."

Sally feels her body move in automatic as she sits on the bed and lets the medium put the necklace around her neck, and then Billie's lips are on hers in the sweetest way the musician has ever felt and for a second she feels tears starting to form in her eyes. But Sally doesn't spill them, she just smiles. And then she feels Billie smiling against her lips too before the medium moves away and finally puts a delicate ring with a small emerald on her own ring finger.

They don't say anything. There are no thank you, or questions about any motivation. Just incessant smiles as the three of them lie back between the covers in silence.

Sally believes that in a few hours her face will be in pain from smiling too much, but the musician hardly cares, because for the first time in almost twenty years she wants to go back in time and pay that fortune teller.

#spsecretsanta #billie dean howard x sally mckenna x reader #billie dean howard x reader #sally mckenna x reader #billie dean howard x sally mckenna #sally mckenna imagine #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard #sally mckenna #sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson

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