#and lip syncing the music to her performance

[abimee]

when i was in highschool around age 16 i was offered the chance to audition for a play at a local playhouse, and the way in which it was described to me i had thought the playhouse was putting on a play where they wanted disabled people to come and perform, an all-disabled performance to give us a chance at something that other playhouses probably wouldnt allow us

but when i got there with my friend we were the only two there, and when i was lead into the place we did a quick audition at the piano and then shown to the stage, where the picture became clear; this was not an audition for disabled kids to come and perform, it was an audition where they wanted two disabled kids to come play two one-scene roles that had a combined total of 8 lines, no song performance, and of which were two henchmen. the entire rest of the cast was a group of abled adults, and we would be the only disabled people performing at all

i promptly left the stage and out of the playhouse before we even finished the tour and i told my friends mother to tell them i am not going to participate and to throw my audition out, and then went home and made an original oc story called "The Lipsync Orchestra" and wrote it about a group of disabled highschoolers who all get accepted into a strange new production in town head by a retired performer, where they would be given full reigns of a production warehouse-turned-theatre to perform their own all-disabled plays, shoot and performance music videos, and be given the ability to seek out their performance dreams that they would not be otherwise given by other playhouses or theatres in their area. because i was so fucking mad LOL

[myspacelolit4]

life asks for so much from me and the only thing i want to do is to watch already which lip sync songs they’ll have for drag race méxico

[xtra7s]

𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟 (𝗪𝗟𝗪) ──── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and Y/N got casted as lovers in a new show

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, G!P!Renee, penatration sex, alcohol

Word Count: 1.5k

masterlist | part 2

In the bustling city of Los Angeles, two talented individuals were about to embark on a thrilling journey that would forever change their lives. Renee Rapp, a celebrated popstar and actor, was known for her enchanting performances that captivated audiences worldwide. Y/N, a rising starlet, had recently made a name for herself with her remarkable acting skills.

Fate had brought them together unexpectedly as they were cast as co-stars in a groundbreaking lesbian show, “Unveiling Hearts.” The series aimed to celebrate diverse love stories and break barriers, resonating deeply with a very gay fanbase.

From the moment they met during the first script reading, sparks flew between Renee and Y/N. However, their connection wasn’t just limited to their on-screen chemistry. They both sensed an undeniable tension that lingered beneath the surface, threatening to unravel even the most composed of scenes.

As the filming progressed, the tension between the two actresses grew more palpable. Their characters’ love story mirrored the intensity of their own hidden desires, making it increasingly challenging to distinguish fiction from reality. The lines between acting and genuine emotions began to blur.

One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Renee invited Y/N to her trailer to practice a moment they were about to film the next day. The air was thick with unspoken desires as they found themselves slightly drunk on boxed wine, alone in the intimate space. The trailer’s dim lighting and the sound of raindrops against the windows added to the charged atmosphere.

The soft hum of distant music filled the air as they settled onto a plush couch, both feeling a subtle excitement hanging in the atmosphere.

The two had been practicing for quite some time, deciding to chill out for a bit. However, there was an unspoken tension lingering between them. A connection that had subtly shifted, leaving a delicate anticipation in its wake.

As they sat side by side, Renee couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N. The gentle flicker of the candles played on Y/N's face, casting a soft glow that highlighted their features. Renee's heart raced as she felt a magnetic pull towards Y/N, a longing that had been building over time.

Y/N, sensing the shift in the air, turned to meet Renee's gaze. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt as if the world around them had faded away. The conversation paused, replaced by a silent understanding that something was about to change.

Renee's hand found its way to Y/N's, fingers intertwining as they shared a shy smile. The touch sent a wave of warmth through both of them, breaking down the barriers that had kept their feelings hidden.

The room seemed to shrink as they inched closer, drawn by an invisible force. Renee's hot breathe lingering on Y/Ns lips, creating a delicate dance of shared anticipation. It was a moment suspended in time, filled with the unspoken promise of something beautiful.

And then, with a soft and genuine tenderness, their lips met. It was a gentle kiss, filled with the unspoken emotions that had lingered between them for so long. Time seemed to stand still as they explored the sweetness of that shared connection.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and their inhibitions melted away. Their bodies moved in sync, fueled by a passion that had long been suppressed.

The initial kiss ignited a spark between Renee and Y/N, and as they pulled away, there was a shared, unspoken agreement that they both wanted more. The atmosphere in the room shifted, charged with a newfound intensity that neither of them could ignore.

Without breaking eye contact, Renee cupped Y/N's face with a gentle touch, her thumb tracing soft circles on Y/N's cheek. Y/N reciprocated by running their fingers through Renee's hair, a silent encouragement that spoke volumes. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and desire as they closed the gap between them once again.

Their second kiss was more rough, a testament to the emotions that had been building up between them. Lips moved in sync, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It was a dance of passion and vulnerability, a language only they understood.

Renee's heart raced, feeling the warmth of Y/N's body pressed against hers. The couch beneath them became a haven, a place where time seemed to slow down as they lost themselves in the shared rhythm of their kisses. The soft sounds of their breaths, the gentle sighs, and the occasional quiet giggle filled the room.

As the intensity of their embrace deepened, Renee's hands traced the contours of Y/N's back, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Y/N, in turn, explored the landscape of Renee's shoulders, fingers dancing delicately along her skin. Every touch communicated a depth of connection that went beyond mere physicality.

The world outside seemed to fade away as they continued their intimate exchange, wrapped up in the blissful cocoon of their shared affection. Time became irrelevant as they surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing them closer.

Y/N's hand rested on top of Renee's thigh, squeezing gently before slowly sliding upward towards her inner thigh. Their fingers traced delicate circles around the hem of her shorts, teasingly brushing against her sensitive skin. Renee bit her lower lip nervously, squirming slightly in anticipation of what was coming next.

"Are you sure about this?" she whispered out, her voice trembling with uncertainty mixed with excitement. Y/N nodded reassuringly, their thumb rubbing circles on the exposed flesh above her knee.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Y/N replied confidently, her eyes locked onto hers. Their lips crashed together hungrily, tongues dancing wildly in each other's mouths as they became more bold in their movements. Their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring every curve and dip until finally, Y/N reached beneath Renee's shirt and pushed it upwards, exposing her boobs to the cool air.

Renee gasped softly as Y/N cupped one breast in her palm, massaging it gently while sucking on her neck and chest. Her nipples hardened instantly under the attention, standing erect and begging for more stimulation. Y/N's fingers fumbled with the clasp holding her bra in place, finally freeing both breasts from their confines. They began to knead and tweak them roughly, causing Renee to arch her back into the touch.

"Oh fuck, Y/N" she moaned, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Renee's hands found their way beneath Y/N's tank top, running upwards along their torso until reaching her navel. She circled it slowly at first, savoring the sensation of skin on skin before working her way upwards to cup Y/N's breasts as well.

Their bodies continued to move together rhythmically, their hips grinding against each other in sync with their passionate kisses. Y/N's hand reached down between them, her hand leading between Renee's thigh. With a grin against Renee's lips, She pushed her hand under Renee's shorts, gasping into Renee's mouth when she feels her hard cock and the precum covering the tip.

"Is this all for me, pretty?"

Y/N worked off Renee's shorts and boxers, taking off the rest of her clothes after Renee. Between Renee's legs, Her erect member rubbing against Y/Ns thigh as she sits on Renee's lap. "Tell me you want this too," Renee panted, her breath hot against her ear lobe.

"Please, Renee" Y/N managed to choke out as she kisses Y/N, her voice hoarse with desire. Renee kissed Y/N passionately, "Tell me if you want to stop" She whispers, before slowly pushing inside Y/N, sinking inside of her and stretching her out to fit her cock. Y/N moaned out in both pain and pleasure as Renee continued to move deeper inside her, filling every inch of her up.

Once fully inside, Renee began to thrust her hips rhythmically, hitting all the right spots within Y/N's body. Their hips rocked in unison, generating a wet slapping sound that reverberated throughout the room. Their bodies were now covered in sweat, evidence of their intense fucking.

Y/N gripped onto Renee's shoulders tightly, her nails digging into their skin as she struggled to find a stable place to put her hands amidst the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. Her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as orgasm after orgasm washed over her, leaving Y/N's body shaking uncontrollably.

Renee, also feeling her own climax rapidly approaching, picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder than before. Their breathing became more labored, their bodies slapping against each other in sync with each powerful thrust.

Y/N leaned up, kissing Renee sloppily as she pounds into her, "I'm close... I'm cumming..." Renee moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. At the same time, Y/N yelled out her own release, her juices coating both of them liberally. Renee pulled out, cumming on Y/N's thigh as they continued to move together until their orgasms subsided, panting heavily as they came down from their shared high.

Finally, they collapsed on top of each other, their bodies entwined in a mess of sweat and fluids. "you're something special," Renee smiled, leaning up as she left soft kisses on Y/N's neck, smiling up at her as they held each other.

[honeykaes]

the mashup

punkrocker!wriothesley x reader II 2.7k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, music! au, modern au, punkrocker!wriothesley, r&b!singer!reader, semi-public sex, consensual filming, creamipes, fingering, riding, piercings, unedited

synopsis: your record label insists that the next phase of your career needs to require you to branch out to other genres and collaborate with an artist. After a long time of searching, to your surprise a punk rocker seems interested not only in the music, but yourself too.

Music is an avenue of expression, at least that’s what you always told yourself. You always felt yourself escaping into the vibrations and notes, amplifying your emotions and imagination as easily as putting two earbuds in.

There were many genres to which people escaped, and yours was the slow, sultry tones of R&B. With its elements of pop, gospel, blues, and jazz with a strong backbeat, you found yourself as one of the top performers in the genre. Your name was associated with the top streamers of Spotify and Apple Music. You even had trending songs on TikTok, people would dance or lip-sync too.

As a child, you never imagined the pitchy singing of your idols would bring you here among the hottest stars.

Despite the success, your record label was craving something different from you—eager to break into the “next phase of your career”, or so they say. They insisted you branch out into new genres and collaborate with some trending artists to give you a push towards winning a Grammy.

You were naturally hesitant, wanting to stay true to your craft and tune but their silvery words and promises of popularity caused your position to falter. Still, you wouldn’t just be collaborating with anyone your managers would send your way, you’d make sure of that.

The first one your label brought to your attention was Childe, a popular alternative singer from Russia. He was making waves in the Western market. His music was…alright and his personality was okay. Something about him irked you though, so you ended up passing on that opportunity to your label's dismay.

The second person they introduced you to was a pop singer by the name of Focalars. Furina was her real name though and she was as eccentric as ever. She was a bit vain and her slight condescension tried your patience a little too much, so you ended up passing on that opportunity as well.

Finally to your shock, a punk rocker reached out about a collaboration. No one would imagine R&B and Punk Rock could mess well, yet his label insisted otherwise. You recognized the name before, Wriothesley. He had been away from the spotlight for a while, only having small shows in London after an incident.

You heard he had punched out some hotshot producer for creeping on his subordinates at a party one night. Wriothesley ended up getting blacklisted for a while as a result. You weren’t sure why he was blacklisted, the creep Wriothesley punched out had it coming, but you knew the music industry was the music industry. Perhaps people were fearful that other cockroaches like that producer would get squashed by Wriothelesy as well.

Nevertheless, his label team things with your image and reputation could help mitigate his own in the community. 

When you first met Wriothelsey was interesting as well. Your labels had just finished the contracts, agreeing to a collaboration between your team and his. He would be singing a cover of one of your popular songs; ”everyone loves a rock cover”, your manager said. 

In addition, the two of you will be working on a new song for an upcoming film, your labels salivating at the thought of getting a Grammy and Oscar nomination.

Needing a break from the paperwork and discussing business, you headed out to the balcony to get some fresh air only to see him smoking there instead. His ears were decorated in silver piercings and a hoop loomed on his bottom lip. He took a drag out of his cigarette, letting the smoke blow out and dissipate in the cool air.

His eyes seemed tired, but his icy irises locked onto your own as he began to cough in surprise. He balled his fist up hitting his chest, to try to help him breathe as he tried to sputter apologies.

“Sorry there, I didn’t see you. I try to make it a habit for people not to catch me indulging in my vices,” he chuckled, still coughing from his surprise. You softly chuckled as well, walking up to him to admire the skyline. London was as gloomy as ever, and it seemed you would be remaining here for the time being.

“I didn’t think you were much of a smoker,” you hummed. The man playfully rolled his eyes, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and looking at it. His gaze seemed nostalgic admiring the soft ambers of one end of the rolled nicotine.

” It was a bit of a bad habit when I was younger. I usually just drink a cuppa’ whenever I get a craving but didn’t have an opportunity to so I caved,” he admitted. He threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with his large black combat boots tied up in yellow and purple laces. You chuckled and nodded.

“I get it. No judgment here. Had to stop drinking coffee for a while. One day I drank about 4 drinks and could see my hand shaking when I was trying to write lyrics. Told myself to never get that far again,” you recalled. Wriothesley let out a hearty laugh at your story.

“See, we all got our vices,” he replied.

There was a soft pause between you two as you two looked at the towering buildings below you. The smell of rain on asphalt was prevalent. It must’ve been raining earlier when you were in your meeting, finalizing the collaboration. 

“I’m curious, why did you specifically ask to collaborate with me? Your managers at the meeting informed me that it wasn’t just their idea but yours,” you asked. Wriothesley simply shrugged before lifting his arms nonchalantly as he placed his hands on his jet-black hair with gray streaks. 

”I like your music, what can I say,” Wriothesley replied. You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. Why on earth would someone like him enjoy music from you? Wriothesley must’ve sensed your confusion before a lazy smirk made its way onto his pale face.

“What? Do you think I only listen to one specific genre? Should never judge a book by its cover” he murmured, tutting. You bit your lip, gaze darting from him in slight embarrassment. It was true. You didn’t only listen to R&B after all, you enjoyed a plethora of genres regardless of if it was the genre of music you made yourself.

”Besides, I see all the time people taking different genres and finding a way to mesh them together,” he added. Wriothesley moved so his back rested on the balcony as he crossed his arms and a more genuine smile fell.

“It would be an honor to do that with someone’s music I admire,” he finished.

Recording soon began after that. It was always interesting to see his fingers glide along his electric guitar, strumming and musing as if he were on another plane of existence. He would often flash you winks at these sessions. Banter turned to flirting to the point rumors began circulating in the office, but the two of you didn’t care. It was fun having him in your life and hard to fight off the smile whenever his callous hands would brush against yours when he got the chance.

A few months passed and it was finally time for the last recording session. As everyone left the studio for the night, you decided to stay back to fine-tune things on your end until you felt satisfied yourself. When you walked out, you noticed Wriothesley sitting on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone and looked up, hearing the heavy door of the recording studio open and close.

“Seems you finally got out. Took you long enough, love. I did want to celebrate with you,” he mused as he rose from the couch. You couldn’t fight the smile creeping on your lips seeing his presence right in front of you.

“Celebrate what exactly? Done being in this stuffy room together for now,” you retorted. Wriothesley simply smirked and shrugged.

“Perhaps I could take you to a pub and celebrate that way. Get a few drinks, I can show you the sights of London before you jet back to LA tomorrow,” he suggested. You took a sigh. You truly weren’t in the mood to socialize in a dark tavern tonight. 

“I don’t know about that….Why? Are you trying to take me out on a date?” you chimed back. Wriothesley chuckled and walked closer to you. 

”Maybe. Think I can be lucky enough?” he asks, hands reaching up for their chin. Your eyes widened slightly, shocked at his nonchalant confession before your expression softened. Your hands reach up, placing themselves on his firm chest. 

“We can always celebrate here…too…y’know…” you suggested. Wriothesley expressions darkened, a grin forming on his face. His hand left your chin, making its way towards your waist to bring you in closer to him.

”Didn’t think someone with a reputation like yours would be so naughty,” he hummed, deep in your ear.

”Don’t judge a book by its cover, I think you were the one who said that, no?” you retorted. 

Wriothesley leaned down, capturing your lips. His lips were sweet, tasting faintly of chapstick he must’ve applied earlier. His hands wandered up and down the curves of your body as the two of you made wait onto the couch.

As your form plopped down on the expensive leather couch, Wriothesley crawled on top of you. His hand cupped your clothed cunt, watching you grind onto his hand desperate to get any bit of friction you could. He sucked his caine as he smiled at the scene before letting his hand dip between the waistband on your pants and cup your now bare cunt.

“Already drooling for me…” he murmured, fondling your soft cunt. You rolled your hips, whining as his fingers brushed against your clit. Growing impatient, Wriothelesy, took his hand out before tugging on the waistband of your pants, bringing them and your panties down with it. Your bottoms were thrown aside on the rug, shielding itself from falling on the cool tile ground.

His icy eyes finally gazed at your cunt bare to him. He pressed his finger against one of your puffy folds, pushing it to the side to spread you out further and watching your hole convulse at the mere thought of having him inside of you. 

Clicking his tongue is satisfaction, he slowly sinks his finger inside of you. You whined, feeling the cool touch of his silver rings decorating his fingers as he slowly pumped them. His other hand goes beneath your shirt, moving towards the valley of your breasts.

He grabbed a mound—rolling your pebbling nipple with the side of his thumb while his lips pressed against your neck—nipping and sucking the sensitive skin. His fingers curled as he continued to thrust while the calloused pad of his thumb massaged your clit.

You writhe under his touch, soft moans falling from your lips. He shifted, his hips slightly bucking as his own erection pressed in his tight pants satisfied by the music falling from your mouth. His fingers drilled inside of you faster as the sloshes and lewd noises of your cunt echoed in the room. 

“That’s it…that’s it…you’re almost there, love. C’mon and give me a show,” Wriothesley grunted. A loud moan is ripped from you as you throw your head back. Your body twitched trying to come down from your high as Wriothesley whistled in amused, satisfied by the way your cunt squeezed and pulsated on his fingers. He dug his free hand into his jeans pockets, revealing his phone.

“Mind if I memorialize this,” he asked, flashing his phone to your tired gaze. You furrowed your eyebrows but whined feeling him pump his fingers slowly in your overly sensitive hole. 

“...If you show anyone and I mean anyone, Wriothesley—” you threatened albeit agreed. Wriothesley chuckled, moving to click on the camera app.

“And risk losing a person like you? Never. Besides, I don’t like the idea of anyone else seeing you like this…whining and crying just on my fingers. Y’know if you made a face like that then I wonder how you’ll look with my cock inside of you, hm?”

Wriothesley began recording as he continued to slowly pump his fingers inside of you before slowly dipping them off. He chuckled, admiring his digits coated in your slick before smacking down your clit as you jolted. You scoffed and grabbed his phone, filming the camera in his direction. 

”Well then why don’t you also give me a show,” you suggested, quirking an eyebrow up with an amused expression. Wriothesley chuckled and nodded. He slowly took his shirt off revealing his fit form, tattoos adorned his arms. His nipples were flushed and pierced as well.

”My eyes are up here, love,” he joked. You fought the urge to roll your eyes before you shifted the camera towards his crotch. He played with the waistband of his pants before slowly letting them fall, his cock immediately smacking to his lower stomach, pulsating eagerly.

He pumped his cock a few times, you could see precum budding at the tip along with his Prince Albert piercing. His moans are light and airy, clearly teasing you as you rub your thighs together.

He leaned over and claimed your lips as he grabbed the phone from you. His tongue dragged against your bottom lip as you moaned in the kiss. He shifted you on top of him so that he was lounging in the chair instead. You could feel how hard and thick he was as his cock pressed against your leg

”Well then, I can’t do all the work…Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat” he suggested, patting his upper thigh. You took their shirt off, hovering above their cock. You grabbed onto his member as Wriothesley sucked a breath in before you slowly sank down it.

As you slowly moved down on it, you could feel how much he was stretching you out. The dull burn as you inched closer was getting to you. Wriothesley offered a sympathetic smile reaching out with one hand to rub your clit to encourage you to sink down further. Although it was a tight fit, you eventually bottomed out. Your body shuttered feeling the foreign coolness of his piercing pressed against your gummy walls. 

His hand eventually leaves your clit before trailing towards your thighs and resting on your ass, where he gives it a tender squeeze.

”Don’t keep me waiting, lovely,” he cooed. With a grunt, you slid up before sliding back down continuously, pressing your hands against his chest as you bounced on his cock. Wriothesley bit his lip, zooming in as he reached out to fondle your tits before drifting the camera back down to where his cock was disappearing inside of you.

He could feel how tight you were, etching him to reach deeper inside. He starts to thrust up causing you to moan. You weave your own hand down to play with your sensitive clit to get more friction.

Wriothesley clicked his tongue noticing, before throwing his phone on the ground without a care. His large palms grabbed onto the globes of your ass before his pace grew faster. You could barely think as he pistoned himself inside of you, legs quivering as you didn’t bounce on him anymore.

His cock continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you as you shifted and gyrated your hips— drool dripping from your lips. You rub tight circles on your clit faster.

“There! There! There!!” you yelped out. Your back arched, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head finally reaching your high. Wriothesley grunted nails harpooned in the plush of your ass as his lower half bucks up, spilling cum inside of you. 

He continued to thrust inside of you, pushing it deeper while he groaned. Your voice quivered, feeling his warmth completely coat you as thick globs of cum smeared on your folds and thighs. You let your upper half lean down to rest as Wriothesley patted your ass gently, red from how tight he was clinging onto it.

His lips pressed against your shoulders for a tender kiss, heavy pants echoing in the recording studio.

“This’ll be a night to remember…” Wriothsley chuckled before kissing your sweaty forehead. His gaze softened at your tired panting one.

“I say it’s a good thing we will be working quite closely together for the upcoming year, wouldn’t you say, love?”

[writerblue275]

How Heartsteel would react catching their S/O singing/dancing to “Paranoia” (to their part if applicable)

Inspiration: Me being a dancing/singing/lip syncing fool every time I listen to the damn song, especially while I’m cleaning my apartment.

Genre: Headcanon

Category: FLUFF

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader

TW: Swearing

^^(How did they get this GIF of me dancing?? 😂)

General things:

Setting the scene, let’s say it’s the first time they’re coming home after the song has released so they’re really getting your reaction to the finished song for the first time.

Ok let’s be clear, all of them would be so flattered and would love this.

Having a supportive partner means EVERYTHING TO THEM.

So even if I don’t put “it means a lot to them to catch you doing this, etc…etc…, it’s still implied.

Aphelios:

He’s had a long day in the studio working with Yone on the next album’s instrumentals after doing a debut music show, so he’s very ready to be home with you and to take it easy tonight.

Grins under his mask as he opens the door and hears “Paranoia” blasting on the Bluetooth speaker he got you for your birthday. He knows how much you love to jam to music!

Sneaks to wherever you are, not wanting to disrupt you and absolutely wanting to grab a photo he can send to Alune (after swearing her to secrecy [not that she would send the photo of you to anyone anyway! You and her are good friends too]).

Manages to get an excellent photo of you using the duster as a microphone, a smidge of dust on your cheek.

You’re so absorbed in your “performance” you don’t notice him at all.

Right after you mime the *ding ding ding* of the bell in Sett’s verse, your smart watch buzzes with a text message.

“I hate to disrupt your award-worthy performance, but what would you like for dinner? (Also you have a little dust on your cheek, cutie.)”

When you spin around and finally see him, he’s spinning his mask on his finger and giving you a sly grin, winking as you gasp in surprise and blush at being caught.

He grabs a tissue and gently wipes off your cheek before giving you a gentle kiss hello.

(I have a headcanon that he would primarily communicate to his partner using sign language)

*Signing* “I’m glad you enjoy our work, love!”

Seeing you love something he put so much effort and time into really brings him a LOT of pride and will continue to motivate him.

He helps you clean and asks you more about your thoughts on the song.

You were in the studio while he worked so you’ve heard parts of it, but you and him agreed that you shouldn’t hear the finished song until it released to the public. It was your suggestion actually. He was ready to let you listen to it early but you wanted to experience the full excitement of waiting for their debut just like everyone else.

Which he LOVED.

Ezreal:

This litTLE SHIT (said lovingly)!

Smug man #1

He will NEVER LET YOU FORGET THIS.

The SMIRK he has when he walks through the front door and hears the all-too-familiar intro to the song.

And when he hears you RAPPING along with Kayn’s part??

NO WAY is he missing this!!

He immediately makes his way to wherever you are and positions himself so he can see you without you seeing him.

Phone camera is at the ready.

Starts recording a video right before the pre-chorus begins and his part starts.

He can’t help but smile as you switch to lip syncing, clearly wanting to hear/focus on his voice.

You’ve told him many times how much you adore his singing voice.

(And he’ll never admit to anyone how much hearing you say that means to him but that’s a different story)

It takes every fiber of his being to not reveal himself while he’s recording.

He’s about two seconds from giggling.

Records through the end of the chorus before stopping the recording and immediately sending the video to the Heartsteel group chat with all the members and Alune. They all love you so he knows they’ll love seeing the video.

He puts his phone away and plans to sneak up on you. (Lmao sneak up? I mean flash.)

This man is an EXPERT at surprising you.

Flashes right behind you before the second pre-chorus starts and starts singing, bursting into laughter as you let out a surprised scream.

He gets a well deserved pillow to the face for that.

Later Yone texts you and tells you that he’s “glad you like the song enough to sing and dance to it throughout your daily tasks.”

And Aphelios hits you with the “:)”

And Ez gets another pillow to the face before bed.

Followed by a kiss because he is POUTING.

Kayn:

This SMUG motherfucker!! (Again, said lovingly!!!)

Smug man #2!!

Comes home to you cooking dinner for you and him, using the spatula as a mic.

Does THE shoulder lean against the door frame (y’all know what I mean, especially if you read romance novels) and just watches you with the biggest shit-eating smirk on his face.

That smirk only get bigger as the song ends and restarts and you don’t change it, telling him you’ve had their song on repeat for who knows how long!

If anything, you’re getting even more into it, starting to dance a little more now and adding some little ad libs while he raps.

Ex: “If you try to step to me, it’ll be the last time” You *in rhythm*: “FUCK YEAH”

He absolutely loves it.

Honestly you’re making him fall in love with you all over again.

Also gives him the idea to ask Alune if you can help make up the fan chants (although he’s sad because he knows they’ll have to be a bit more PG)

Can’t help himself as he lets out a chuckle, giving himself away in the process.

Holds his hands up peacefully as you spin around, ready to throw the spatula if needed.

“Sorry baby, I’m afraid you can’t use me for target practice.”

“God Damnit, Kayn, you know I scare easily! How long have you been home?”

“There’s a reason I stayed over here instead of startling you over there where there are a bunch more kitchen utensils you could have reacted with. And to answer your question, enough time for me to understand how much you seem to enjoy our song.”

You playfully, roll your eyes, shake your head, and smile as he comes over and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you hello.

He’d definitely tell the guys what he saw, but he wouldn’t film or photograph you (this time 😉).

K’Sante:

I get such immaculate vibes from Heartsteel K’Sante.

Like I’m a BTS fan (woot woot ARMY) and I get very very similar energy/vibes from K’Sante and RM.

Like I do not know what it is, but I would trust K’Sante with holding/watching my drink at a club if I needed to run to the restroom. He has that sort of good energy.

I suppose it’s the…safe? energy??

Absolutely hilarious to use that word considering the batshit things they did in that movie studio.😂

But you know what I mean!

And being in a relationship with someone who has this sort of energy would be A++++.

(I know this is a bit of a tangent but I swear it’s relevant to the topic)

K’Sante’s part in “Paranoia” has that same sort of energy to it. (It’s so hard to explain what I meannnn)

And when he catches you singing and dancing along to his part, the bridge of the song, while you’re folding/putting away laundry, I think he’d watch you for a couple moments.

But only a couple.

He’d make his presence known a bit earlier

Because then I think he’d come join you! ☺️

He’d start singing with you and encourage you to keep singing with him.

He’d gently pull you a little closer to him.

And obviously the slower paced part of bridge doesn’t last forever, but even then I think he’d still dance with you once the song ramped up with you (hard to explain but think casual dancing with a partner at a club/bar).

It would be so FUN??? Such a fun sweet moment between the two of you.

He’d of course then help you fold the laundry.

“It’s only fair since I distracted you from it for a bit!”

You’d keep listening to music with him as you both get some chores done around the house.

Definitely making sure to take time for more dance breaks (duhhhh).

Sett:

(A/N: I love the entirety of “Paranoia” but something about Sett’s verse makes me absolutely FERAL!! THE LYRICS. THE VIBE. THE INSTRUMENTALS. PerFECTION! ØZI fucking nailed it.)

When I first started thinking about this, I thought that Sett would be smug guy #3.

Now I’m not quite so stuck to that idea.

Oh don’t get me wrong, he’d definitely hug you and tease you once you saw him watching you and blushed a deep red.

But they would mainly be half-hearted teases.

And internally? You know this man is melting about you and how lucky he is to have you as his partner and how much he loves you.

Sett clearly has such a soft side for the people he truly loves and cares about.

Have you seen how much he adores his Mama???

You are like the only other person who can really bring that soft side out of him.

And catching you already having the lyrics to his verse down 100% is something that would bring that out of him.

Speaking of his Mama…

Sett would absolutely take photos or videos of you.

But they’re only going to one person.

That’s right, to Mama.

We’re going to assume that his mother really likes you and you really like her. (You think this man is going to be with someone his mother doesn’t get along with? BFFR)

Though let me say I think she’d be very easy to get along with.

Like I definitely don’t think she’s the mother-in-law from hell I keep seeing stories about on TikTok.

But anyway, he just wants to show off his favorite person to his other favorite person (who also adores his favorite person).

And little do you and Sett know but that just inspired Mama to knit you a sweater that matches the beanie she made that he wore in the MV. As like a holiday present!

(I’m so sorry this one was admittedly a little self-indulgent but I think it’s so cute!)

Yone:

Oh this man.

Obviously everyone has worked extremely hard so that Heartsteel can debut. Everyone has had late nights and long days on little sleep.

But as Heartsteel’s main producer…

(Not to mention band mom!!)

Yone really had a record number of late nights at the studio.

Reworking a passage over and over and over….

And OVER

Until it’s right (or until Aphelios/Alune drag him out of the studio at 3am telling him to work on it tomorrow with fresh ears).

And he’d never tell you, but you know he’s felt really bad about all those late nights. All those nights he wasn’t with you.

Potential dates missed because of deadlines.

Not that you were angry with him or anything.

You love him and you know how much pressure he’s put on himself.

And the last thing you want to do is potentially add more pressure on him.

In fact, you and him made a routine the past couple months. Whenever he’d have to work on the weekends, you’d come over to his studio each night during the weekend and bring a movie/couple episodes of a show and takeout.

And he gladly lets you pull his attention away from work for other media and cuddles.

(I feel like in private Yone would be more cuddly than one might expect of a stoic man like him.)

But during these media breaks??

This tall man was like a damn koala the way he cuddled you (not that you were complaining).

So seeing you sing and dance to the song he produced…

Even though the production of this song meant you often went to bed alone….

Was so fucking cathartic for him.

It made him feel like every sacrifice was worth it. Just to see how happy you were to dance and sing to the song he put so much of himself into.

His expression would be so soft as he watched you.

And after you noticed him and gave him a smile, he’d come over and give you a hug, burying his face against your neck.

You are his MUSE, and don’t you forget it.

Ahh thank you for reading! This is my first bit of creative writing in over 5 years, so apologies if it’s not great!

Shout out to @coco6420 for telling me on my main account to not stop myself when I talked about being tempted to post headcanons for Arcane/Heartsteel. Well here we go. 😂

[avocado-writing]

hiii your bg3 writing is so *chefs kiss*

I was hoping you'd be able to write the companions' reactions to a bard!tav, giving them a private serenade one night. like they lead them to a clearing away from camp one night and there's a picnic set up and tav sings a song they wrote specifically for their love?

if all the companions is too many, could you please specifically do Halsin, Astarion, Minthara and Wyll?

oh, cute! going to give you a lute, as I think that’s easiest!

Astarion

he makes a comment about how he feels the picnic was a bit unnecessary as he can’t eat it, but you mention you’re his snack later ;)

you sit him down, pour him a glass of wine, and pull out your lute

you ask, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, if you can play him something.

he cocks his head to the side and nods.

your fingers dance across strings, and when you start to sing, he realises it’s a song about him.

you once offered to be his mirror, and tonight you repeat that. your song is about how lovely he is, in every way. how he’s handsome but kinder than he wants to admit. brave. fierce.

its the most sincere celebration of his character he’s ever heard, and by the end of it, he’s left shocked.

“oh…” “did you like it?” chewing your lip, nervous.

“it’s… you’re…” he really doesn’t have the words to convey how you’ve made him feel. so he gently takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

the kiss gets deeper. the lute is abandoned. so, really, is the picnic. the music the two of you make then is of a different kind.

later, when he has time to come up with a suitable review, he will tell you how much it meant to him. you are his favourite musician, and he has a new favourite song.

Halsin

oh, he’s been around for a long time, but this is the first time someone’s done something like this for him.

he’s just sat in bowled-over silence as you play for him, and it is amazing. an epic ode to his life and kindness, how strong and handsome you think he is.

he comes closer as you sing, sitting right next to you. studying every inch of your face as you perform.

when you’re done, he tells you that it was the loveliest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’ve heard pods of whales singing as they meet up with their lost family… until now, it was the sweetest sound to have graced my ears.”

he gets you to repeat the song and turns into different animals to enjoy it, be it via vibrations or different ways of hearing. either way he wants to be surrounded by your music, and you.

Minthara

absolutely no idea how to respond.

she was brought up in a cutthroat world. this softness is new to her.

she remains quiet for a while as she tries to work out if you’re trying to get anything from her. is this a trick?

”oh, I’m sorry,” you say after a while when she’s just been staring. “did you not like it?”

”no. no, it was… play it again.”

you do, and she really listens to the lyrics. they’re about her beauty. how glad you are to have met her. her strength in battle and soul.

she’s exceptionally moved.

“this is… a priceless gift that you’ve given me. I have no way to repay you.” “I don’t need repayment. it was freely given.”

she kisses you, for she has no way else to thank you. you have moved her more than she thought possible.

Wyll

you play and he listens. his eyes and smile go wide.

absolutely enraptured. claps when you’re done, and cheers your performance. you laugh and bow for him.

he tells you how much you mean to him, what a sweet gift this is. how your love is his most treasured possession.

he reaches into his pocket… and takes out some paper.

“I… I know this is incredible timing but actually… I wrote you something, myself.”

and he starts to read out a poem.

oh, it is lovely. full of flowery verse, and sweet appreciations of you. all the little things which make him love you. you pick up your lute and play along eventually, and he gets into the rhythm too.

the two of you laugh at the fact that you both had the same idea! you’re so alike, so in sync.

he holds you tenderly, kisses you softly.

you end up writing many songs about your Blade. he is your perfect muse.

bonus:

Karlach bursts into tears when she hears it, and scoops you up into a big hug at the end. she’s so emotional. she can’t stop saying she loves you, she loves your song, all of it. lots of wet kisses for you.

Gale is rendered speechless for the first time he can remember. he just stares at you in adoration. he’s never had anyone love him enough to write a song about him before, and he full force of his affection for you hits him in that moment. he is smitten.

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter nineteen. the gig cw. some slight anxiety + alcohol mentions ↝ wc. 1.5k + 2 SS

It was about thirty minutes before 3RACHA were scheduled to perform when you arrived at the bar. Thankfully it wasn’t too crowded but there was still a decent amount of people around, the place was nice and spacious so you were still very impressed. You were sitting directly at the bar, some fruity cocktail in front of you as you chatted with Ryujin and Yeji though the two girls were a little busy with each other. You didn’t mind at all, you found the two absolutely adorable. Besides you were a little distracted yourself, eyes fluttering across the growing crowd. 

On the left you could see the boy you had met just yesterday who was with Hyunjin and the pretty fairy boy. Ryujin had told you his name was Felix and he was famous on campus for his brownies. You had to admit, it was probably the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth. The cat-like boy then looks over at you, your cheeks flushing as you quickly turn away, downing your whole drink in pure embarrassment. The alcohol burns down your throat but you could care less - you might need to be a little intoxicated if you were getting out of this evening alive. Soon enough the lights are dimming and three boys are walking onto the stage. You turn around in your seat, content staying all the way in the back to watch the performance. 

They each take a moment to introduce themselves, the one on the right was Bangchan and you noticed he had his own set of devastated dimples. The one on the left was Changbin, who was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off his muscled arms. Of course they were both perfect, all eight of your soulmates seemed to be almost inhumanly gorgeous. It didn’t make sense to you. How did you of all people end up with these men? Fate was either fucking with you or trying to make up for the fact that she had given you the worlds shittiest parents and brother. 

Either way you don’t have much time to contemplate what Fate had in store for you as they began their performance. You had heard most of these songs already, what with you having been playing their songs on repeat for a few days. You couldn’t be blamed, they made such good music. You bobbed your head to the beat, a smile on your face as you watched them on stage. It looked like they belonged there, moving and interacting with the crowd that screamed for them. Unknownst to you, seven eyes were watching you carefully as you enjoyed the songs.

They had even played their solo songs, your body sitting up as soon as you hear the familiar tune of Alien playing. Your eyes practically sparkle as Jisung sings your favorite song and it doesn’t help that he looks so good, a few strands of hair in his eyes and black nail polish. You were convinced that he was trying to kill you. Little did you know that Jisung had begged his other bandmates to put Alien on the setlist, he desperately wanted to perform your favorite song for you. 

The others that couldn’t take their eyes off on you found it extremely endearing as you lip synced with Jisung. The fact that you had memorized the lyrics had definitely pulled at their heartstrings. Especially with a song that meant a lot to Jisung. 

They play for about an hour before their time is up, thanking the crowd for coming and to look out for some more solo songs being released in the next coming weeks. Soon after there’s another group coming up but you’re not paying much attention anymore. You order another cocktail, bracing yourself for what was going to happen next. “They’re good huh?” Ryujin asks as she leans into you, a smile on her face. You nod your head, happily accepting the drink before downing it. “Woah- you good?” She questions with furrowed eyebrows, slightly concerned but slightly impressed on how fast you swallowed the liquid. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You mumble, letting the alcohol infect your veins. 

Ryujin gives you another glance at you but doesn’t question it anymore. She had always been fairly good at reading you, knowing when not to push you. “If you say so. Me and Yeji are gonna dance for a bit ok? Come find us when you wanna go home,” She gives you another smile before she’s pulling Yeji by the arm, the latter giggling as she follows her soulmate into the crowd. 

You’re thankful to get the moment alone to try to ground yourself. Your heart is already pounding in your ribcage at the prospect of meeting your last soulmates. How much worse is the ache in your chest gonna be after finding all your soulmates? The unbearable pull you felt towards them, your heart angry at the weak strings that threatened to snap at any moment. All of this happening because you had yet to solidify the bond, something you weren’t sure you were ever gonna do. 

“Mio!!!” A voice cuts through your thoughts and you turn around to see Jisung, that adorable gummy smile as he walks over to you, his two other soulmates behind him. 

“Hi Sung” You reply back, trying to will yourself to calm down. He falters for just a second at the nickname before shaking out of it, pulling you into a hug. You’re terrified he can feel your heart pounding against his chest but you still reciprocate the brief embrace, thankful they probably can’t see your flustered cheeks in the dim bar. 

“Mio! This is Chan hyung and Changbin hyung. Hyungs, this is Mio!” 

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Chan greets you first, holding out his hand. Once again you’re pretending you don’t feel that zap of electricity when you slide your palm into his. 

“Likewise,” 

“Nice to finally put a face to your name,” Changbin also holds out his hand and you repeat the process. You force a smile on your face as they make small talk, awkwardness seeping into your bones. Oh how badly you want to run away. 

“Hey! There you are!” You look over at the voice and you find Hyunjin who is throwing himself into Jisung’s embrace, giving him a quick kiss. “You did so good Hannie,” The latter is blushing. It’s rather interesting to watch the two interact - you hadn’t had the opportunity to really see how the other soulmates were with each other. It both makes you wanna coo at how cute they were and maybe slightly jealous. But you push it down, trying to convince yourself that you don’t care.

Soon enough the other soulmates are coming over, greeting their lovers and commenting on how they enjoyed the show. While it’s endearing to see all of them together, the sudden realization that all your soulmates were in front of you sends pure panic into your stomach. Some of them greet you and you do your best to wave back, hoping your smile doesn’t look as strained as it feels. 

It’s like they know though, reading your thoughts as they keep the convo light, not forcing you to talk if you don’t want to. But it’s all too much. It feels so overwhelming, the feeling that’s pulling in your chest and you don’t know if you want to scream or cry. Nor do you know if it’s in a good or a bad way. Suddenly you really regret the two cocktails you had downed, your head starting to pound and you thought that you might be sick. 

“Mio? Are you okay?” It’s Jeongin who asks, noticing your face getting pale even in dim lights. 

“I’m. I’m fine,” You manage to mutter out, pulling out your phone to pretend to look at the time. “Oh man, I need to get home,” 

“Oh! Do you have a ride? We could-” You cut Jisung off quickly. 

“I came with Ryujin and Yeji, it’s ok. Bye! It was nice to meet you again!” The words spill from your lips as fast as you possibly can and you all but jump out of your seat, running into the crowd. Desperately you look for Ryujin or Yeji, eyes already burning with tears and your chest aching with a need you’re not sure you could ever give it. 

When you find the girls you’re a little out of breath purely from the fact that you’re trying to not have a panic attack right now. Ryujin looks over at you with concern, lips pulled into a frown at how distressed you look. 

“Are you-” “I’m fine. I’m fine,” It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself even though you didn’t believe it. “Can we go? Please,” You strain the last word in desperation and all Ryujin does is nod.

“Of course. Come on, let’s go,” She puts a reassuring hand on your lower back, helping you through the sea of people, exchanging a small look with Yeji.

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[adore-laur]

RENDEZVOUS

— a steamy flashback from the dadrry universe about harry as your fiancé 💍

——

After another shot of vodka went down the hatch, you still didn't qualify yourself as drunk. Tipsy was the more accurate feeling since every shot you had taken in the last ten minutes hadn't quite affected your bloodstream yet. The fifth one was being poured already. Or maybe the sixth. It didn't really matter since letting loose was what bachelorette parties were made for.

The event was being held in a small theatre in downtown San Francisco, occupied by you and your friends to celebrate the last few weeks before you officially became a married woman. A drag show was the extravaganza for the evening, and it was currently the intermission, so everyone was out of their seats drinking and catching up with each other.

You and Harry had needed a getaway amid the final phase of wedding planning. The both of you were staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the weekend, and it was nice to take a breather from the stress of the big day coming up. In the weeks leading up to the mini vacation, you had decided it would be perfect to have your bachelorette party in the scenic city. Most of your friends lived in surrounding areas, so you had sent the invites out and hoped everything worked out. It clearly did because everyone was buzzed and having the time of their life. 

Your throat hurt from loudly cheering on the drag queens who had just performed. The tiara on your head with a tiny veil attached was slipping off, and the bride-to-be sash across your body was getting wrinkled, but you couldn't care less. Happiness and love exuded from your friends who had come to carouse with you.

Harry had proposed a little over a year ago after he cooked a fancy New Year's Eve dinner and led you to the backyard at midnight to get down on one knee, popping the question with shaky hands and watery eyes. You were incredibly thankful it hadn't been a grand display in public. It had been just you and him at home under the string lights, butterflies breaking loose in your stomach.

In planning the wedding, you had vowed to him that you wouldn't be a bridezilla. You'd allow him to have equal insight and let him completely take the reins regarding the food that will be served since it was his forte. Overall, the process hadn't been too draining. You worked well as a team, and he was always open to suggestions and last-minute changes of plans. The final touches would be put together once you came home from the trip. Then, it would finally be time to marry him.

"Did you leave Harry alone in the hotel room?" asked your friend, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he'll find something to do," you said. "He can never sit still for too long."

She carefully fixed your tiara. "When's his bachelor party?"

"Next weekend. He's having it at the restaurant he works at."

"Not at the strip club?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed. "He's mature enough to understand that I find it suspicious when guys go there for their bachelor party. Some call it their last night of freedom. How weird is that?"

You had nothing against strippers, but you thought it was reasonable that you'd rather have Harry spend his night somewhere else to celebrate his, you know, commitment to you.

"You're marrying such a gentleman. It makes me jealous," she said with a playful nudge. She wasn't wrong, so you just shrugged smugly and sipped your fruity cocktail.

Gasps and excited clapping suddenly stole your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the stage, watching the red velvet curtains draw back once again. Shuffling to your table, you smoothed down the back of your dress and sat.

The lights dimmed as people who worked at the venue began rolling a black piano onto the stage. You wondered what it would be used for since the drag queens earlier had strictly danced and lip-synced to music booming from the speakers. Other instruments were also being brought out — guitars, drums, and even a saxophone.

Growing more confused by the second, you turned around and stared at your friends around the room to see if they knew what was happening. All you received was mischievous smiles.

Before you could ask questions, you were abruptly pulled out of your seat and led to the front of the stage as people situated themselves by their respective instruments. You leaned into your friend and asked, "What's going on? This doesn't look like a drag show is about to happen."

She smirked and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Let's find out."

You didn't reply because the band started playing jazzy music as the stage lights turned on, revealing quite a modern setup for what you knew was definitely not a drag performance. A spotlight shone, and it began to move toward the left wings, where a silhouette of someone was waiting.

"Please give a warm welcome to Harry Styles!" introduced the saxophonist.

You just about choked on your Mai Tai.

Your vision finally focused on Harry as he strutted out wearing yellow trousers and a button-up under a suit jacket. A small mic was clipped to his collar, and you couldn't even begin to guess what he had planned tonight. He gave you no inclination that he'd be here. No subtle hints had been dropped in conversations with him, and no sneaky clues had been given by your friends. It was actually shocking, considering he was usually awful at keeping secrets.

Everyone cheered for him, whistles and encouraging hollers thrown his way as he held his arms out and walked toward center stage. You were too taken aback to join in as you watched him cut the band off with a gesture before facing the room with his hands behind his back.

Was his hair parted down the middle?

"Thank you, thank you," Harry greeted with a bow, his deep voice echoing throughout the theatre. "It is so great to be here hosting a bachelorette party for the first time."

Wow. He had jokes up his sleeve, apparently. Was he about to do a stand-up routine?

The applauding and praise continued as you shook your head in disbelief, letting a huge smile take over your face at the unexpected surprise.

"This is new territory for me," he said. I'm very excited to step back from my chef duties and do some comedy tonight."

There was no way he was going to do a comedy bit. You couldn't believe he crashed your party with a fancy suit and a routine ready to go. He was talking to your friend group in the audience like he was giving a Saturday Night Live monologue. You were going to lose it if he started playing the piano.

"You see, my fiancée and I go way back. We met about three years ago at a bar." He finally looked at you. "I ordered a lemon drop martini, and she ordered a strawberry margarita."

A stagehand brought out a clear martini and set it on the piano, and another one came down the stairs and placed a pink-colored margarita on your table. Your face heated at the simple yet thoughtful act.

"We talked for hours until I drunkenly asked her on a date. You know what she told me?" A plethora of whats were screamed from the crowd. "She said: Ask me when again you're sober!"

Everyone laughed, and you hid your face in your hands. That wasn't even a joke; you had genuinely said that to him. You were blown away he remembered such a tiny detail.

"Ultimately, I'm a very serious partner," Harry continued as he began sauntering toward the piano, "and nothing says serious partner like learning how to play the piano to impress my fiancée."

Taking a sip of your margarita, you glanced behind you. Some of your friends were recording him with their phones, and you were glad this could be something you could watch repeatedly.

Harry sat on the bench and exhaled. "Ooh, that feels good."

You had to wave one of the fans the drag queens gave out to cool down. He looked unfairly handsome, he was playing the goddamn piano, and he kept giving you secret looks that made you sweat.

"Now... I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not a boyfriend anymore." He stared straight at you. "I'm a fiancé now." Whistles from your friends caused him to proudly smile. "I'm also going to be dad," he casually blurted. "We're going to have a baby."

The entire room gasped, and you gaped at him with wide eyes. "We're not," Harry added after a short pause. "Wouldn't it be crazy if we were, though?" Your friends were now shaking you and battering you with questions. Harry smiled before his face dropped comically. "We're not."

He teasingly raised eyebrows and smirked at you as if to signify that you actually were pregnant, albeit you were drinking alcohol. Hopefully, everyone knew that you'd never be that stupid. 

The girls were gawking at you, but Harry rolled his lips in and shook his head to remove the confusion. He continued playing the piano, and your cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He was doing such a great job, and you were genuinely trying to figure out how he had pulled all of this off.

"I love my fiancée; she's my best friend," he said smoothly. "She's hilarious, honest, caring, fuckin' beautiful" — he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows — "and, uh... good in bed." You rolled your eyes as he puckered his lips at you, more cheers filling the room.

"Yeah, that's right." He blew out a relieved breath. "I'm so grateful she doesn't live with her mother anymore."

"Oh my God, Harry!" you yelled with a surprised laugh.

It was a more private joke that no one understood fully, but it was funny nonetheless. You had used to live with your mother when you started dating Harry, and you always had to be quiet when he'd come over because his early twenties testosterone needed to be having sex with you at the most inconvenient of times.

He winked at you before resuming. "However, for me, it's not about how my fiancée is in bed, even though I'd consider myself very lucky in that department. It's about her soul and her heart. And in all seriousness," he added as the laughter died, "I truly believe her soul is my love language."

Coos and squeals echoed at his statement, and you shyly smiled. You were the one who had taught him about all the different love languages; he had told you once that he thought your entire soul was what his was.

"Maybe some of you aren't convinced I'm a serious partner. You may be asking yourself: Did he really take secret piano lessons to do this? Well, if in doubt, just ask the maid of honor."

Your head whipped toward your maid of honor, sitting several tables behind you. She waved with a proud smile, and you gasped when you realized he must've done piano lessons with her since you knew she had played the instrument for several years.

Harry hummed loudly while closing his eyes, bringing your attention back to him. "I love being here in San Francisco. So much history."

The band behind him cheered as Harry dramatically sipped his martini. You'd never seen him so in his element with something besides his job. The confidence in the delivery of his jokes, the comedic timing, the professional stage setup — it was something you'd never forget.

"I've learned so much this week. Here's a few secrets about the hotel we're staying at," he said gaily. "Did you know they gave us the haunted room because of how pale I am?" He shook his head with a boyish smile. "That is funny."

You chuckled at the awful joke because he actually was paler than usual. It was the end of January, and he hadn't gone outside much since it'd been cold and gloomy by the coast where both of you lived.

"The bed in there is so creaky that it sounded like that one night in Mexico!" 

Shocked gasps and bursts of laughter rippled throughout your friends in the audience. It was a harmless joke about how you had all gone on a couples trip a while ago, and your friends had heard you and Harry getting down with it in the hotel room. It'd been terribly embarrassing.

Harry laughed. "Everybody thinks we're a couple that has a lot of sex. We don't; that's why she sleeps in a different bed than me at home."

Okay, now that wasn't true.

"Except tonight!" he shouted cheekily while pointing at you. "I mean, I think I'm just about ready to take her home with how she looks right now."

The girls at your table nudged you, and you began to get flustered. He was giving you that look again.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped playing the piano. "All jokes aside, thank you so much to everyone for celebrating with her tonight. You've all been wonderful friends over the years, and I can't wait to see you all at the wedding. It'll be terrifying, but I'm so ready. Also, thank you for bearing with my terrible jokes. Have a good rest of the night!"

You applauded along with your friends, some of them throwing leftover confetti from the drag performance earlier toward him. He brought his hands together and bowed politely as the band played a closing song.

Harry's cheeks were as pink as your strawberry margarita when he walked down the stairs with one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his suit jacket. He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile. Everyone stood from their seats to greet him, and the band came down holding bouquets of white iris flowers, passing them out to each of your friends.

You met Harry halfway and instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he tilted your head up for a messy kiss on the lips. He coaxed and smacked kiss after kiss out of you until your friends started making fake gagging noises from behind. He eventually pulled away and removed his hand behind his back to hold out a bountiful bouquet of red roses that matched the color of your dress.

"For my lovely fiancée." He gave you the bouquet and then turned your head so his mouth was by your ear. "I've got a taxi picking you up after this is done."

You nodded and ran your fingers across his stomach. "Sounds perfect. That was so incredible, Harry. And the piano? I'm impressed."

"It wasn't too much?" he asked, shyly rubbing a knuckle under his eyebrow. "Didn't know if you'd appreciate me crashing your girls night."

"Are you kidding? That was the best thing I've ever seen. I'm so proud of you."

Harry blushed, and you lovingly pinched his cheek. "Thanks. I was nervous because your friends always make fun of my jokes. I thought they wouldn't laugh."

"We were cracking up. You did so good," you complimented. "How did you keep it a secret from me? I had no idea."

"I'll never tell," he said with a cute shrug.

You lightly slapped his chest. "I'll get it out of you one day. Are you staying for the rest of the show?"

"It's your night, baby. Go enjoy it with your friends," he said. "I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You should stop by for a little rendezvous."

Your tipsy mind missed his attempt at a joke entirely. "We're staying in the same room, though."

"Bloody hell," he said with a laugh. "How much alcohol have you had?"

"Excuse me, not even a lot. Mind your business. I'm having a great time."

"I'm glad you're having fun. That makes me happy." Harry adjusted your tiara and then softly pecked the corner of your mouth three times. "I'll see you back in the room, okay?"

"For our rendezvous?"

"Our top secret rendezvous," he murmured against your temple. "Don't go around telling anyone, all right?"

"Sure thing," you replied while squeezing his sides. "You can go now."

An offended scoff escaped him, and he cradled the back of your head and leaned in. "Watch your mouth. I expect you to behave when you get back."

You puckered your lips and hummed contemplatively. "But it's my special day; you said so yourself. I can say whatever I—"

Harry cut you off by pressing his lips to your bottom one, biting it with his teeth before pulling back. "I love you so much, but that attitude isn't going to fly with me tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, dad."

"I'm leaving before this gets weird," he said with a smile. "Be safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything."

"Now you literally sound like a dad."

"Shush," he said. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

You pecked his lips one last time, tasting the sour lemon residue from his martini. "Love you."

"Have fun, ladies," he called out to your friends. "Take care of her, yeah?"

They all nodded, and Harry hugged you before heading to the stage to shake hands with the band. Soon after he was gone, the lights in the theatre dimmed again, and the curtains opened for the final portion of the show. You headed back to your seat feeling exceptionally giddy.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. Wigs, pop songs, and glitter invaded your brain, and now you were ready to return to the hotel. The tone he'd used earlier had made a shiver run down your spine. Low, insinuative, and almost impatient.

It was a tone that suggested you were in for a treat when you got back.

——

The key card swiftly slid into the slot. Two chirp-like beeps sounded, indicating that it was unlocked. Opening the heavy door, you stumbled inside the hotel room on the black heels you had already started to unclasp in the back of the taxi. There was confetti stuck to the bottom of them, and it nearly made you slip on the hardwood floors. That, and there was also a trail of rose petals and tea light candles weaving throughout the presidential suite that you didn't remember seeing when you had left earlier. 

You giggled to yourself as you followed the trail to the bedroom. Oh, Harry. You had almost forgotten he was here.

When you walked through the doorway, the king-size bed came into view. So did your fiancé. Harry was sitting pretty on the silk sheets with a flute of champagne in his left hand as he looked out the window at the San Francisco skyline. He was wearing the same outfit from his surprise act not too long ago, but his hair had become messier, and his eyes were glassy from the bubbly liquid you noticed was already half gone from the bottle on the nightstand.

You crawled toward him on the bed, setting your bouquet down. "Hi. I'm back."

His gaze focused on you. He granted no response as his lips took a sip of the pale and fizzy drink he held so delicately, the gold engagement band on his ring finger gleaming from the moonlight illuminating the room. A low groan escaped his mouth when you straddled his thighs and applied pressure to his already hard cock. He wasn't saying anything, but you knew exactly what would get him to speak.

"What's got you so hard, baby?" you asked softly, tutting. "Were you thinking about me?"

His lips twitched as he finished the champagne and set it on the ground beside the bed. "Like you don't fuckin' know. Look at yourself, darling. It's honestly a shock that I wasn't on my knees for you at the theatre."

Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs. "I had a feeling you'd like this little number."

It had been a struggle to get through the door to leave since his touch had been all over you the second you put on the red satin slip dress.

"What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

Such a narcissist, you thought to yourself. You ground against him, and he let out a breathy moan. "I do. Apparently, no boxers are part of the get-up."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked. "I might have no boxers on, but there's something else you might find. Went and did some quick shopping while you were gone."

Your slowed thoughts tried to catch up to what he could have been hinting at. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?"

His large hands kneaded your ass. "Take a look."

He leaned forward and guided your hand to the button of his trousers. You quickly flicked it undone as he removed his suit jacket and began undoing the button-up. His body lifted on the bed so you could slide the garment off easier, and he hissed when it brushed past his cock.

Slowly but surely, his legs underneath were revealed, and your face heated to a thousand degrees.

Fishnet tights.

His leg hair and tiger tattoo peeked out from under the crosshatch material stretched tight against his skin. The redness of his cock looked painful from its restraint under them.

"I might've bought a little something too," you admitted as you scratched his skin through the thin fabric.

"Yeah?" He jerked his hips when your fingers grazed the head of his cock. "Show me, then. Go on."

You sat on your knees and lifted your dress to reveal the baby pink garter around your upper thigh. "It's your favorite color."

Harry licked his lips as his fingers delicately rubbed the lace. "I see that, sweetheart. Anyone particular on your mind when you bought it?"

"Was there anyone on your mind" — you snapped the waistband of his fishnets — "when you bought these?"

He bit his lip. "You're the only one I think of. The only one I would wear these for. I would crawl on my knees to you wearing them if that's what you wanted."

"Is that so? Quite the visual."

"I'll do it if you want me to." He paused, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "We can practice the garter toss for our wedding."

You made a noise of protest. "We are absolutely not doing that in front of our families. It'll be so humiliating."

"Don't have to because we can do it right now," he suggested. A nip was given to your neck before he climbed off the bed and grabbed a chair.

Your eyebrows arched. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing this the traditional way," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "Have to go under your dress and take it off."

"Will you be nice, or will you tease me?"

"Which do you prefer?"

You swung your legs over the bed and sat in the chair. "I prefer the way that gets you inside me as soon as possible."

"Well, I'll let you know once I'm between your thighs," he said, kneeling on the carpeted floor and gesturing his hands for you to spread open for him.

"No tickling, or I'm staying in another room," you warned as you slid off your heels and parted your legs.

Harry started crawling toward you with his tousled hair and day-old stubble, only wearing his fishnets and unbuttoned dress shirt. He never broke eye contact with you until he reached where you sat.

Your satin dress was then lifted over his head. You could instantly feel his hot breath against your legs, his lips grazing every patch of skin he could find. He left an open-mouthed kiss over your underwear that was already damp, and you moaned when his facial hair rubbed against your inner thigh.

You suddenly felt his teeth grab the garter as he pulled it down to your ankle. He took it off the rest of the way with his hand, bringing it over your shoe and moving out from under your dress. He stuck it between his teeth again and removed his button-up. Green eyes stared at you, and you clenched your legs under his intense stare. His tattooed torso was on full display. He was so, so beautiful.

Harry grabbed the garter and slid it on his bicep before saying, "Stand up."

You got up and switched spots with him, standing in front of him while he sat in the chair. He crossed his legs, thighs thickening even more under the fishnets. You walked over and parted them so you could straddle him. The chair was thankfully wide enough to where both of your knees fit on either side of him. You could almost feel his cock throb as you started desperately grinding against him to offer relief.

"Baby, slow down— shit, slow down," he said quickly, hands gripping your waist. "I need to last. You'll make me come right now if you keep doing that."

Slowing down, you took your time with each grind on his thigh. The pressure of the muscle felt like heaven as your core clenched around nothing. "Is that better?" you asked, raising your dress to see how his body reacted underneath you.

"Yes," he choked out, his neck straining. "Need to be inside you so bad."

"How bad?"

"So bad. I'm fuckin' throbbing for you. Please get on the bed."

You squeezed one of his balls through the fishnets, his hips bucking. "Where does it ache? Tell me how to make it better."

"Get on the bed," he gritted. "I'm not gonna ask again."

There was the dominance you wanted. You nipped his earlobe and crawled off his legs. He immediately stood, hissing as he palmed himself through his tights. You helped him take them off.

"Top or bottom?" he asked while closing the curtains. "My fiancée's choice."

"Neither. I want it from behind."

"Say less." He turned around, gripping his cock and squeezing it once. "On the bed. Now."

You quickly slipped your dress and underwear off and knelt on the bed, facing the headboard. Harry got in position behind you, his cock resting on your lower back. He moved your hair to one side and whispered, "On all fours."

You placed your forearms on the bed and arched your back so he had a good angle. "Open your mouth," he commanded. You tilted your head up and to the side as he leaned in to spit in your awaiting mouth. His saliva pooled on your tongue, and you swallowed it down willingly. "Good girl."

Harry then reached his arm out to hold onto the headboard. The engagement ring on his finger caught your eyes, as did his veiny hand that tightly gripped the burgundy wood.

The first thrust was divine. Searing pressure filled your walls, and Harry whimpered into your neck at your instant clench around his cock. He continued deeply thrusting into you as he took the garter off his arm and put it around your wrists so that they were restrained in front of you. Your hips burned. Harry's other hand squeezed your breast.

"Go faster," you said as his hand trailed down to your stomach, his long middle finger lightly grazing your clit.

He pounded harder, skin slapping as the headboard l creaked from the force. He was hitting all the deep spots, his pelvis meeting your ass each time. Your hands gripped the sheets when he glided his fingers up and down your dripping core. His head was nestled in your neck, muffled groans and pants leaving him when you pushed up your hips with each new thrust.

He removed his fingers that were coated with your arousal and spread his palm on your lower stomach. "Can you feel me there?"

You nodded fervently, crying out when a deep trust had you literally feeling him in your stomach. "Holy shit, Harry. I feel you. Please don't stop."

He pressed down and rubbed your stomach, the knot from your orgasm growing and bubbling up quickly. In one swift movement, he brought you to a sitting position as his cock continued stretching your wet walls. His thighs were touching yours, and you could feel them tense and tremble as you got closer, clenching hard around him.

"I'm gonna get your name tattooed on my thigh right here," he said, taking the garter off your wrists and moving one of your hands to touch his right thigh. 

You were too submerged in ecstasy to reply to his random confession. A couple more thrusts had you blindly reaching back to grab his hand so you could come. He held it tightly as you unraveled, arching against him from the pleasure leaving you.

"That's my girl," he praised in your ear. "My love, my love, my love. So gorgeous, coming for me like this."

Your ears were ringing, and Harry eventually spilled inside you while you still clenched from your remaining orgasm. You felt his warm release shoot inside you, his hand still holding yours and his body falling on top of you as he groaned hotly against your cheek. Heavy breathing was coming from both of you. Harry finished coming but kept his cock inside you, throbs and twitches happening every so often.

"If we weren't engaged already," he started, "I'd propose to you right now because that... that was the best I've ever felt. Wow. My body feels all tingly."

You groaned, his dead weight on top of you making it hard to breathe. "Get off me. You're sweaty."

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach. The dim light illuminating the room and the perspiration glistening on his skin accentuated the carved outline of his abs, and you couldn't help but trace them with your fingertips.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Please."

He got up and carried you toward the bathroom. Everything in there was white marble, and the brightness hurt your eyes. The shower was small but comfortable enough to fit both of you. You already had taken one in the morning, but it would feel nice after a long, eventful night. It would also help you sober up as much as possible so you don't suffer through a terrible hangover tomorrow.

After laying down a towel and setting you atop the sink, Harry turned on the shower. He took off both of your engagement rings and then stood in front of the mirror. He inspected his stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

"Should I shave?"

"Why?" you asked with a sharp tone that had him immediately raising his hands in surrender.

"All right," he mumbled with a teasing smile. "Blimey, woman. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"What are you even saying?" you asked languidly. "I hate it when you speak old-timey British to me."

"Are you cheesed off at me now?"

"You're literally speaking gibberish." You hopped off the counter. "I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye."

Harry followed you and ducked under the hot water, trapping you in a hug from behind. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The soft skin of his stomach against your back had you melting into him.

"I don't want you to divorce me before we get married," he explained, kissing your jaw. "I'm just playing it safe."

"Harry, you're the only person who can annoy me and make me endeared at the same time."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," you replied, picking up the shampoo bottle you brought and handing it to him. "It makes me want to marry you right now."

He spurted a dollop of shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into your scalp with gentle and soothing motions. "I can't wait to marry you, either. Gonna treat you like a gentleman."

You lulled your head back, resting it on his collarbone. "You already do."

"I'll do it even more when I'm your husband, though. Make dinner for you every night and take you out on the town." He gravitated one hand to your stomach. "Give you so many babies."

"Not so fast," you interjected with a dreamlike smile. "No babies anytime soon."

Harry filled the shower cup with water and poured it over your sudsy hair. "I hear you. Just know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's get married first. I want you all to myself for a while."

"You always have me. That'll never change."

You turned him around so you could wash his hair next, opting for the same shampoo since he liked to steal it for himself anyway. After a prolonged yet comfortable silence, you asked, "Were you serious about tattooing my name on your thigh?"

"I'm dead serious," he replied. "I might even do it at my bachelor party. I work with a guy who's coming, and he does tattoos in his free time."

"But why on your thigh? Seems like a risqué place for it."

Harry turned his head and gave you a blank stare. "Would you rather me get it in a corny place like over my heart?"

You laughed, lathering shampoo in his curly hair. "No, not really. I guess you're right. It's kind of a secret spot for only us to know."

"Not unless I wear shorts all the time."

"Yeah, but thankfully, you wear pants every day at work. I don't want your coworkers to see that."

"Why not? I can't show you off anymore?" he teased, reaching back to pinch your side. "Wow, you propose to a woman, and suddenly she wants to be anonymous."

"Shut up," you muttered through a smile. "I honestly don't care. Just please don't get it inked in an ugly font."

Harry moved under the shower head, closing his eyes and slicking his hair back. "Well, it's a good thing I was going to ask if you'd write it out for me."

"Seriously?"

"No," he said in a deadpan manner, spitting out some water that had got in his mouth. "I'm thinking Comic Sans."

Poking the soft skin under his belly button, you said, "You think you're so funny now because you did a five-minute comedy routine."

He didn't provide a retort, but you saw him grin as he washed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. His nose was scrunched while he scratched his scalp and cleaned the foamy residue off his face.

After a peaceful moment of nothing but the sound of the shower water beating down, Harry opened his arms and brought you in for a hug. "I love you. You know that?"

You kissed his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and cradled your head with his hands. "It hit me that we're getting married in a month."

It had been hitting you as well. You'd been waiting so patiently for the special day to arrive. "I love you," you said quietly. Thank you for tonight and every night. You make life worth living."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

It fell silent as you stared longingly at each other with growing smiles. Harry slowly started getting closer to your face, his dimples carving deeper until his eyes crossed from how near he was. His forehead dropped against yours, and you rolled your lips in when he attempted to steal a kiss from you.

"How about another rendezvous, but this time we get in bed and fall asleep?" you suggested, reaching around him and shutting the shower off. Sporadic drips and exiting warmth greeted you.

He pouted. "Only if you kiss me."

"We've done enough of that today."

"You're really not gonna kiss your fiancé after I just told you I'd give you babies? That's dire."

You laughed and admired a water droplet cascade from his pointed nose. "If you blow dry my hair for me, I'll reconsider."

Flinging the shower curtain open, Harry yanked a fluffy towel from the hook on the wall, then gently wrapped it around your body before grabbing one for himself and tying it low on his hips. The blow dryer next to the mirror didn't have a long cord, so you sat on the counter for easier access and squeezed any remaining wetness from your hair into the sink. Meanwhile, Harry covered the top of his head with a towel. He looked like the Virgin Mary.

You gave him a comb, and he took the blow dryer with his other hand, turning it on and gesturing at you to ensure it wasn't too hot on your skin. For the next ten minutes, the sound of the loud dryer filled the space. It would have been a stressful sound in any other situation — trying to dry soaking wet hair from the pool before dinner reservations or untangling knots from yesterday's sleep. This time, it was relaxing. Domestic. A moment in time.

The soothing scratches Harry gave to your head as he combed through every citrus-scented strand could have put you to sleep. The hotel room's air conditioner was cold and crisp, but occasionally, he'd lower the dryer so it blew warm air on your arms.

Before you knew it, the dryer clicked off, and peaceful quietness surrounded you. Harry's hair dried much quicker than yours, so he took off the towel on his head and tied some of his damp curls up in a ponytail for the night.

His hands planted themselves on either side of your legs. "Kiss time," he whispered, his arms taut.

You slid off the counter, finding yourself trapped by his body—not that you minded. Grabbing his left hand, you raised it to your lips to kiss his ring finger, then put his gold engagement band back on.

"My mouth is up here."

You grinned. "And? What about it?" Harry annoyingly pushed his forehead into your cheek, grumbling something incoherently. You pushed it away and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," he repeated dramatically.

"What kind of kiss do you want?"

He once told you that he had favorites for different situations: a nip, tug, peck, tongue, or the type where you both smile so big that the kisses become messy and mixed with giggles. The latter was your personal favorite.

He hummed, his nose wrinkling as he pondered. "The one where you do all the work."

You laughed softly. It wasn't necessarily a joke he was making; he genuinely enjoyed it when your lips moved against his. Sometimes, he just wanted to be kissed silly. It was never awkward, nor did it feel like a chore. He was the most kissable person to roam the earth, so resisting was hard.

"Okay," you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Only for a little bit, though. I'm exhausted."

Harry nodded and lifted you, setting you on the counter again. Your legs circled around his hips. "I'll return the favor tomorrow," he said.

The towel on his waist was hanging on for dear life. His eyelids were lazily drooping from tiredness, and his skin was flushed from the steam. How could someone look so pretty in hotel bathroom lighting?

Your hand on his cheek gently guided him to your mouth. His lips were damp and plush from the shower, parting naturally with each of your doting kisses. With his nose nudged against yours, pleased hums came from his throat as you alternated between his top and bottom lip. Kissing him never got old. It could be soft or rough, long or short, brought about by love or annoyance. It was a cure all the same.

After a slow and innocent onslaught of kisses, you pulled away before you ended up making out with him until morning. Bruised, aching lips could wait.

Harry whined in protest. "That was only, like, five seconds."

"Guess what?" You trailed your fingertips along his neck. "You have the rest of your life to kiss me."

He yawned while shaking his head. "That's not enough time. Give me forever."

"I'll try," you said fondly, sliding your engagement ring back on.

You would until children of your own were born and required you to share that love. Until your children's children withdrew even more of it. Yet, despite that, Harry would always be the first person you had given your heart to completely. He had never taken advantage of it. He had never made you doubt his love for you. It was the kind of love that was immortal. It would never die out and would remain the greatest feeling you'd ever felt in this life and the next.

If evermore was attainable, you liked to believe it was made possible by loving him.

——

[kairiscorner]

miles x reader gn! or fem! idrc 🪿

can write one where reader is peaceful baking/cooking something in her apartment, but while she is baking she's dancing or singing to the music (it can be sunflower 🔥🔥🔥). Then Miles decided to visit her and caught her dancing/singing.

I'd really appreciate if you can write this 🥺🥺🥺

HELLO 🦆 omggg this is so cute WHAT hope ya like it anon :>

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

it was a slow weekend for you, and with no chores, no homework, and nothing else to catch up on and do right away, you decided to brush up on a hobby you loved–baking. your parents weren't exactly opposed to your hobby, they were just opposed to the messiness that resulted from your efforts.

however, those efforts ceaselessly yielded wonderful results; they would know, they were always your default taste-testers. however, your parents were both out of the house today, each running errands of their own. that didn't deter you from wanting to bake, though. if anything, it encouraged you to bake while they were away, to surprise them with goodies of your own at the end of the day once they came home.

you readied all the materials and ingredients you needed, and instead of a recipe, you readied a playlist of yours that was approximately three hours long. you never really used recipes, the only recipe you needed was your intuition, your gut; and your gut knew exactly what was absolutely delicious for the treats you were going to make.

you hit the shuffle button on the playlist, and as soon as the music played, you got to work immediately. it didn't take long for the music to whisk you away into your own little world, this small place for just you and your craft.

you didn't mind getting flour on yourself, spilling some milk, putting too much sugar in the bowl or accidentally adding a few bits of eggshell in the batter–these were all little mistakes that, though nobody really says it out loud, is always part of the process.

you found yourself practically skipping and dancing a few moves boldly, confidently–which were things you never usually did when there were people who would stare, who would look. but you were in the comfort of your own home, no one could possibly interrupt you now. at least... not with you realizing that someone was about to interrupt you from your dancing trance.

you were finishing up the last batch you could make for your baked goods, and as soon as you worked on that last batch, the opening beat to your favorite song–sunflower by post malone and swae lee–came on. when you heard the singer's vocalization and the rhythm you were far too familiar with, you soon lost all control and restraint that you never realized you were inflicting upon yourself and just–danced.

you danced, and that dancing soon was coupled with singing. not lip syncing, not humming, but full on singing. you were a little conscious of your voice, you were no full-fledged singer, but you were a professional shower singer--to yourself, of course. but what did it matter? you felt so free in your own space, making a mess as you waited patiently for your treats to bake and performing a whole musical number on your own; missing a few notes and mixing up the lyrics with a smile on your face and laugh escaping your throat--you were so beautiful like this.

as the song finished up and the timer on the oven dinged, you heard a faint clapping noise from the window nearby. you swiftly turned your head to that very window, and your expression became one of embarrassment as you saw--right outside your window, hanging upside down--was spider man, who was also your boyfriend, miles morales.

"man, this is one of the reasons why i love you." he said with a slight chuckle as he took off his mask and as you walked closer to him, sheepish as you didn't know how long he was there--or if you even wanted to know how long he was there. "you saw everything?" you asked with an awkward chuckle. he took off his mask and smiled at you. "every bit of it, well, when sunflower came on. now, i know it's kinda creepy, but can you blame me? i love it when you don't hold back how you feel, i never wanna interrupt you when you're happy being so... you." he confessed as you opened the window a little wider, a small gust of air came in and blew a breeze into both of your faces.

"and the other reason?" you asked as you looked into his brown, hazel eyes. he smiled up at you and put a hand to your cheek. "it's also because you make the best darn treats i've ever tasted, and will ever taste." he complimented you as his smile became a smirk, trying to get you flustered in a more gallant than cute way, but he just ended up looking cuter to you. "so... those treats..." he prompted, to which you crossed your arms and raised and eyebrow at him with a grin. "what about them?" you asked. "care to spare some for your favorite friendly, neighborhood spider man?" he asked, hopeful for your answer.

"hmm, maybe..." you said as you scrolled through your playlist on your phone and pressed the song sunflower again. "but come in here, you aren't eating outside. and besides..." you said as you pulled him closer to your face. "...i wanna dance with you, miles." you admitted as you pulled away, leaving him in awe at just how bewitching and gorgeous you looked up close. "ah, hey! you can't just tease me like that!" he called out after you with a flustered face after he snapped out of his brief daze as he climbed in to follow you as the song played in the background, fading into the banter you two were sharing in your own little world--only with each other to think about as the rest of the world passed you two by.

a/n: i wanna bake now 🧁

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fictarian @zalayni

[firewalkzwit]

submission // hobie brown x reader (one-shot)

reader is a messy rockstars gf vibe groupie that goes to see hobie's band and catches a ride with them hihi :> also in this story hobie lives in a musty apartment instead of his boat just for the 70s punk appeal

warnings: 18+, everyone in this fic is gross, blood and violence, mentions of drugs, smut, hints of dom reader??

word count: 1.9k

AO3

Pushing and tackling your way into the front row was something you had learnt to do as an experienced band follower. Nothing gave you more rush than finally reaching the artists by inches, merely separed by the height of the stage. You were a sucker for the dopamine rush whenever they would crouch and offer their microphones so you could sing with them, or when they would gift you a smile or a wink.

It was one of those days, your friends had invited you to see an emergent band playing downtown, in a nasty cramped pub just like you liked it, as the best and noisiest bands always came from those.

Their performance was loud, chaotic and frenzic, the pogoing pushing you and your friends in and out of different circles and strategically taking advantage of the agitation, you pushed and jumped your way to the front row.

You'd watch perplexed as you yelled incomprehended words trying to follow their choruses, hyped holding your hand up in frantic gestures. Your eye makeup had smudged all around your face, and the sweat glistened on your forehead as the lights illuminated you.

Despite the mess in your face, you couldn't care less, your focus nailed on the piercing gaze of one of the members. Your eyes had paced around the band as if picking an objective, they were all pretty fit as your friends would describe them, motivated to make your way backstage or catch a ride from the crew.

His fingers swiftly pressed and slid on the guitar's chords syncing their movement in inconsistent coordination. His head would ocasionally tilt down to look at his instrument, and whenever he'd look up, his gaze would point over to you.

Neglecting his guitar and falling out of tune, he distracted himself gifting her a wink and sticking his tongue out at her. The band would often insult and provoke the audience, jumping and name-calling, exhacerbating the agitation in the crowd. The public was naturally growing violent, pogo was agitating further and people were tossing and breaking things. A particularly upset individual triggered by the guitarist's slowed pace aimed a smashed bottle at him, hitting hard against his face.

He snarled a muffled curse as he laughed erratically, wobbling in his place clearly under the influence. Blood gushed down his cut lip and nose, to which he'd spit and rub his face on his shoulder, smearing the gory scene on his face.

He'd play faster and would often fall out of tune, just to spite the growing anger in the audience. You on the other hand thought the show to be incredibly amusing. The agitation and adrenaline inducing rise in conflict and the music morphing into sheer noise as you observed from both perspectives in the front row enlivened you.

His blood dripped drawing a trail down his sharp chin and through his neck, drops splattering the stage and his limbs whenever he'd shake his head. Although bloody, sweaty and on drugs, to you he could not possibly look more attractive, and he had long noticed you staring, gifting you a smile with red teeth as the blood filtered into his mouth.

Once the show was done, you got dragged out by your friends before you could do anything to try making it backstage. The police were likely to soon show up given the disturbances and attacks, but as you walked away, a strange arm wrapped around your shoulder and pressed you tightly against an unknown torso.

To your surprise, one of the band members was holding you and one of your friends on each of his sides, looking back and forth between you and her with a grin.

"You ladies need a ride? Where are you from?"

Being honest, from around. Responding to your objectives, from out of town. You exchanged looks of conviction with your friend before lying.

"We're from out of town." Your friend responded with a grin.

"Ah I see, 'got a place to stay? We got plenty of room to accomodate you girls if you fancy a place yea?"

And before you could even catch a taxi back home, you and your friends were in the back of a black van carried between instruments and cramped against other band members. They would chat small talk lively with your friends, but you remained quiet, exchanging looks with the bleeding gutiarrist who grazed his hand over his bloody nose as it kept spurting down.

He smiled, and asked for your name in a deep voice with a cockney accent, before continuing to silently wipe his nose and resting his blood-stained hand on his thigh, legs spread occupying precious space as he leaned against the surface of the van.

Making a sudden stop, the band members hopped down from the vehicle agitating eachother to get down as the driver scolded them off. Your friends looked back at you and waved as they were guided across the street with the rest of the band, leaving you and the guitarist completely alone in a dark street.

He stared at you for a long second, seemingly zoned out before his bloody hand gripped your wrist, taking you into his apartment in silence. You walked behind him, dusty untied boots stomping as you struggled to clumsily follow his pace. His trembly hand erratically unlocked the door before letting her in to a messy scene.

He kicked cans and trash out of the way and crouched to clear up the mattress on the floor, apologizing for the mess you couldn't care less about. As he stood back up, he turned to find you shockinlgy close to him, your warm hands sliding underneath his tee and caressing his bare torso.

Goosebumps rushed up his arms without you noticing, indecisively wrapping them around your waist to pull you closer, hips colliding against his spinky belts and his groin. Your thumb traced down his cheekbone before pulling him in for a kiss, the iron smell and salty taste of his drying blood on your lips inviting you to clean him up with your damp kisses.

Your heated bodies followed eachother lumbering towards the mattress, as he fell on his butt with your thighs wrapping around his hips, sitting on his lap. He pulled out from his pocket a capsule with pills, popping one into his mouth.

As his hand offered you one, you looked around and at who was in front of you, realizing as anecdotic the situation would be for the future, you couldn't do this as sober as you were. He placed the pill on his tongue before pulling you in for another kiss, the pill wobbling in and out of eachother's mouths before you swallowed it.

You quickly noticed his inside lip also had a cut and often bled inside his mouth, mixing with your saliva as your tongue tangled with his in an uncoordinated make out session, his lip ring pressing against your lips everytime you kissed and sucked.

As you made out, you rocked your hips slightly on his lap, feeling him grow under you in excitement as you provoked him with your graze.

"Stand up." You whispered into his ear as your hand caressed his face, his kisses softly staining you with blood on your cheek and neck. He questioned nothing, getting up as he held your hips, looking at you up and down with temptation.

You bent down on your knees as you released his tight pants from his belts and gifting him a smirk as you unbuttoned and pulled down the zipper with a tempting slow pace. His hands fidgetted on their place and his gaze switched between you and his surroundings; he was nervous.

"You've ever done this before?" You interrogated with intrigue.

"Do what?"

"You know..." Your hands holding his hips traced down to his pelvic area, stroking his cock underneath the boxers. He gasped slightly as he twitched, you rapidly caught on to what you were handling.

"Oh my God.. You're a virign." You teased with a smirk, to which he chuckled lightly as a grin drew on the side of his face awkwardly. You were obviously more experienced than he was, contrary to what you would expect given the musicians you had slept with before were usually very gifted in the art of fucking.

Contrary from turning you off, it flattered you to be the first to him, knowing you'd signify an important stage of his life. Pulling his boxers down to reveal his hard cock pulsating in desire, you smiled in temptation. Although an inexperienced virgin, he was still hungry for you.

Your lips wrapped around his fat dick, the sheer contact of your warm mouth against his member making him sigh off a muffled moan. He tried to keep to himself the noises he wanted to make as he felt the pleasure of your damp mouth suck on him, gripping his hips.

His body twitched, and eventually he stopped trying to contain his moans, huffing in satisfaction. Suddenly and to his surprise, you stopped. Getting up, you begun to pull your shorts down and rid yourself from your boots, pulling him down to you and inviting his hands to free your chest from your tight top.

As he helped you naked, revealing your breasts, you wrapped your arm around his neck as you layed down with him on top, heated kissing as your other hand accomodated his salivated cock into your wet pussy.

The first feeling of your tightness tightly wrap around his dick sent him into a spiral, his hands gripping her hair instinctively in a rush of excitement. He felt so good, and the lewd noise that came out of your mouth when he entered you caused him a frenzy. He pulled in and out slowly and trying to get ahold of the rhythm, speeding up progressively as your cunt stretched to fit him.

"Fuck-" He murmured under his breath, feeling the warmth of your breath right under his ear. He ocasionally leaned to lower his head and kiss your neck, twitching as he felt he was about to come.

He moaned progressively louder, trying to ram you as best as he could to please you, your thighs wrapped around his waist. Before he could dump his load in you, your legs let go of him and you pulled away, his cock sliding out of you as he incorporated himself in confusion.

"Not in me." You sat up and pushed him up, himself kneeling up to receive your mouth again. This time was only faster than the first one, quickly re-setting the climax that allowed him to finally cum. His warm sticky load filling your mouth.

As you backed up and got up to spit, he rested on the bed naked as he watched your figure walk into the small bathroom. It was his very first time, and although guided completely by you, his experience had been orgasmic, pleasured by the range of balmy sensations experienced through the different parts of your body.

As he watched you approach and sit beside him, he leaned his head on your shoulder as his arm rested on your torso, feeling you grab his hand and rest it on your chest.

"You think you'll write a song about me? This being your first shag and all..." You teased as his hand massaged the fullness of your breast.

"I just might."

i’d like to believe hobie wrote a song like submission after his experience w y/n

[kiatheinsomniac]

.・✫・゜・。. ｡⋆ʚ[ 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐏! ]♡⃛ɞ

──── 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: jul. top supporter: @ghostofpolaris 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x mother of three! Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cigarettes, suggestive

You lay resting upon Alcina in a grand bay window as music fills the air around you. The doors to the opera hall are open and out pour the duet of violin strings and piano keys. The melody is performed by Alcina’s eldest and your middle child. They’ve been getting on wonderfully, even if they were a bit unsure of what to make of each other at first. 

Compared to Alcina’s height and frame, you’re tiny as you lay upon her sprawled out body, your head set upon her soft, voluminous chest. One of her large hands pets your head, smoothing down your hair rhythmically in time with the music. For a moment, you consider that it’s coincidence, that she has just so happened to fall into sync with the performance going on in the next room over. But you know Alcina better, know that this is her nature. She’s a singer at her heart – it’s why she had this hall annexed onto her castle. 

With her other hand, she holds the long, narrow pipe of her cigarette, taking in deep inhales and then puffing it out of the open window in which the two of you are seated beside. A smile paints Alcina’s red-tinted lips as she looks down at you fondly, a serene expression upon your visage. Given the uncommon structure of her family and the small population of the village, this particular one of four Lords assumed she would never find another mother like herself, that her daughters may well feel a sense of outsiderness or isolation given that no other family was like theirs. The girls had power to shield them, yes, but Alcina always worried that any negativity might come from within them, from that burning question of why is no one else like us? 

And then along came you. Protecting your girls fiercely as you tried to navigate your way through the village. Your little family reminded Alcina so much of herself and her own girls and so it felt almost instinctual for her to leap to your defence, to shelter you in the home of her castle where blood and death were usually resident and yet now there was only love between you instead of the terror that any guest might otherwise be filled with in Castle Dimitrescu. 

The scent of tobacco fills the air, swirling into the melody and warmth that your other senses are absorbing from your surroundings. Alcina leans down to press her lips against the top of your head, inhaling your scent. She then glances out of the window to where Cassandra is currently giving your youngest a demonstration in wielding a sickle. The Castle might be safe but the village is far from being such. Daniela and your eldest are somewhere currently unbeknownst to the two of you but you trust that they’re not getting themselves into too much trouble wherever they are. 

Alcina holds you in her powerful arms as though you’re the most precious thing in the world and she swears to herself that she’ll protect her new family with all her might, that you’ll forever be kept separate from her duties as a lord of the village. She’ll keep you out of harm’s way with all she has. 

Alcina sets her cigarette down in order to remove her gloves, revealing her blackened fingertips. The black leathery gloves are set down on the window sill and she retakes her cigarette in one hand while the other begins combing through your hair, large palm smoothing over the curve of your head. 

Her fingers gently brush beneath your chin in order to gently coax you to look up at her. When your gaze meets her own grey-hazel one, she feels the world stop. She had always thought that she’d be alone, that it would always just be her and her daughters for an immortal life in this little village, that they would never see the outside world. 

But now Alcina does see the world and she’s holding it in her arms and it’s looking up at her with the same enamour. She can’t help but tilt her head as she takes in the sight of you, so small on her chest. She leans in to kiss your forehead and cannot help but smile at the red lip print it leaves behind. You look like hers. You jut your chin up a little more, a silent request for her to continue with her kisses. Alcina is quick to take up your offer, peppering your forehead, cheeks, nose and jaw in kisses, always leaving your mouth. 

Your visage is now printed in lipstick marks, covering your skin and you’re smiling up at her like an angel, like something far too precious to be in his place. You lean in a little closer and pout when your lover doesn’t close the distance. She’s kissed everywhere on your face now except your mouth and so now it appears that you seek a real kiss. A low laugh rumbling in her throat, she does as you wish once more and revels in the little sigh you let out when you taste the tobacco and remnants of makeup on her mouth. Her arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer, feeling the intimate press of your body against hers. 

Your thighs slide against her hips as you move from being laid between her legs to straddling her pelvis, leaning down over her and deepening the kiss. She feels your hands slide over her ribs but stop before going any further. Yours and her daughters are nearby and the last thing either of you want is to get caught doing anything inappropriate for this not-quite private space in the balcony above the opera hall, sitting in the bay window overlooking the courtyard. 

“Y/n…” She murmurs between kisses as your tongue slides against hers. “Y/n, draga mea (my darling)...” But you persist in her kisses, making it difficult for her to say what she wants to. She takes charge then, fingers pressing into your cheeks to pull you away. Her eyes are lidded as she looks down at how her hold has squished your lips into a cute pout. “Let’s continue this in our room, hm?” 

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[shiro-00s]

heaven on earth

17. face-to-face .. ✮

[ genshin impact smau / idol!xiao x fem!reader ]

As you switch your gaze back and forth between your phone and the performers on stage, you struggled to find anything that could ease the boredom you’re currently drowning in. Although the songs, performances, and artists were the best you’ve ever seen, you’ve just been stuck in the same seat for over an hour now.

The seats weren’t uncomfortable, it was the contrary. The VIP tickets Ayato bought were so close to the stage you could snap a photo of the performances without any interruptions from the rest of the audience if you really tried.

You looked over at Hutao, who really seemed to be enjoying herself at the concert. You were glad that your friend could have some fun and momentarily forget the dreadful assignments waiting for her back at home.

It’d be better not to interrupt the brown-haired girl, so you decided you’d just suck it up for a while longer. Looking back at the stage, the group whose name you forgot the name of, seemed to have finished their performance, bowing and stylishly walking away to the back of the stage to cry about their unnoticed mistakes.

You could hear the sound effects being played by the massive speakers, notifying the audience of the upcoming group. "Brace yourselves for the upcoming performance that'll leave your heart thumping in its cage! Let's give it up for the one and only '5wirls' to deliver a performance that'll set the bar for all others!"

Seriously, who came up with that name?

The stadium echoed with the sound of clapping and whistling as the audience continues cheering for the group. Then comes the silence. The stadium lights dimmed and the light sound of footsteps in sync can be heard if you pay close attention.

The lights that were previously closed, flickered to life, flashing in various directions with different colored lights and it came down to look like art, a genius way to hype up the crowd. Uproars from the once-quiet audience resurfaced as the light fell to the figures of the said group along with the start of the music that seemed to be coordinated with the perfection of timing.

A sudden impulse ignited within you to look up at the faces that could've caused such a reaction from the audience. Tilting your head and allowing your gaze to wander, your eyes fixed on a particular face that you recognized too well. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but even as though you blinked repeatedly, trying to decipher whether perhaps, your mind was playing tricks on you. You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to wipe away the familiar image from your vision.

A band involving five individuals stood tall on the stage. While four of them blended into the background, their sounds gradually faded away from your thoughts. Your attention was fixated on one person you knew all too well. A face you had seen illuminated in the night as he walked you home. A face so remarkable that it made an effort to befriend it. A face that etched itself into your memory the moment you gazed upon its mere beauty. A face that looked back at you in disbelief despite the huge horde of people, as if it couldn't believe what it saw.

A moment of connection was shared among the two of you, a mutual recognition.

Just as suddenly, it was over.

A blink from him interrupted the moment, causing the both of you to snap out of your trance. Quickly looking away from you to focus on his task at hand, he thanked himself for being able to play the song on muscle memory or he would've fucked up, badly. Distracted and flustered, and in front of an audience as well? This was so unlike him it frustrated the man himself.

Your gaze lingered on the man for a bit longer before shifting your attention to the brown-haired girl, glaring holes into her face. As if she knew what had happened, her head turned to yours in sync. A guilty awkward smile settled on her lips as she looked away, preparing herself to offer an explanation and an excuse for what she did.

“Listen, [name]...” Hu tao hurried after you the moment the concert ended. You sighed at her attempts to explain as you’ve already put the dots together and figured out why she went out of her way to bring you to the concert. “I wasn’t sure myself! And I didn’t know if you knew or not. But I wanted to let you know about it somehow.”

You turned to her and your gaze softened at her frown. Well, her intentions were pure I guess, it was just the way she acted on them. You let out a sigh and decided to hear her out. Scarlet eyes lit up at your mercy, smiling before catching up with you and began explaining her reasons behind her not-so-smart plan. As she spoke, she mentioned Xiao - a name that carried a mixture of emotions.

On that note, you were furious that your new friend never mentioned his career to you at all. You felt a sense of annoyance wash over you. Sure, it wouldn’t have made a difference if you knew, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hurt that he hadn't told you. At the very least, it would've been considerate of him to let you know.

Well, you didn’t really ask either, did you? Perhaps it was the familiar feeling of frustration that stung the most, reminiscent of the past. You were just upset by how familiar this whole situation felt.

You shook your head, it was too much of a hassle to think about. As if some god had heard your struggle and frustration, a voice reached your ear. “They’re holding a mini fan sign right after the concert?” Eavesdropping isn’t a crime. “Didn’t you listen? It’s why most people came to the concert to get autographs and whatever.”

You soon found out you weren’t the only one listening in. “[name]!”, settling your gaze upon Ayaka and Lumine, you waved at the duo. With the crowd of people who came to the concert, the group had gotten separated after the concert ended. “I heard there’s a fan sign. Could you get this shirt signed for me by 5wirls? Ayato’s request.” As Ayaka's words finally sunk in, dread filled your system. You couldn’t decide whether this was an opportunity given to you by god or if it was karma for everything you’ve ever done.

Before you could say anything back, Hutao had taken hold of the shirt, giving them a thumbs up and dragging you away to the 5wirls block of the fan sign as you flailed around in her grasp.

Meanwhile, Xiao looked lifeless as he gazed blankly ahead, unable to focus on one thought amidst the flurry of thoughts swirling around in his mind. He felt clueless on what to do. Regret consumed him, tilting his head back to wipe away his thoughts. He jolted from the sound of soft laughter behind him, footsteps closing in on his limp. Mouthing a what? to the ginger who looked like he was having the time of his life staring back at him with a face of I told you so.

Xiao groaned in annoyance, too prideful to admit Childe was right - for once that is. The chair beside him screeched against the floor as Childe sat on it. “Saw her here?” The ginger questioned the man beside him, who only let out a drawn-out sigh, he’ll take that as a yes then. In a quick motion, Xiao turned towards Childe to ask him something that had been plaguing his mind for days, “How did you find out who she was?”.

The said man could only huff dramatically, “A magician never reveals his secret.” Annoyed with the answer, Xiao remarked back “You mean a stalker?”. This time Childe finally looked back at him with an offended look as he finally gave Xiao what he wanted, “Kaeya said he saw the two of you walking back towards the same direction, and I asked the landlord for her name but it was just a hunch.” He shrugged.

What did he really expect from Childe? He parted his lips to respond, only for him to shut them again when he saw a familiar face approaching. Perhaps he should’ve masked his reaction because Childe was as observant as he was. Whistling casually, the ginger reassuringly patted his shoulders, attempting to comfort the dark-haired male. Xiao would’ve been grateful if it weren’t for Childe's next actions. With a sudden burst of strength, Childe pushed the sulking man towards the table for the fan signs and snatched away the chair that Xiao was previously sitting on. Golden irises could only stare back at Childe in a look of betrayal before being startled out of it by a voice he recognized.

“Hey, I need you to sign this for a friend.” He almost flinched at the cold undertone of your voice, the opposite of what he was used to. His eyes furrowed in guilt, too afraid to meet your eyes as he solely focused on the shirt. Taking hold of the pen on the table, he moved so flawlessly that you couldn't help but admire his skill. It was a relief that the rest of the members were busy, allowing you to appreciate his skills.

Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you decided that as soon as he was done, you were gonna grab the shirt and run like your life depended on it. It wasn’t your choice to be here but even though you tried to bribe Hutao into coming with you, she mumbled some excuse about oh actually I need to pee, real bad. The male in front of you lifted the pen from the shirt slowly, as if he was scared you’d leave as soon as he finished - well he was right. Reaching a hand out to snatch the shirt, a hand that didn’t belong to you had wrapped around your wrist as you tried to leave. A look of desperation etched itself on Xiao’s face as he opened his mouth to speak.

Click!

Amidst the silence, the only audible sound was the click of a camera and a flash of light following it.

heaven on earth - 17. face-to-face

previous | masterlist | next

synopsis ; 🗝️ — in which you befriend your next door neighbour who, unbeknownst to you, was apart of a soon-to-be one of the most popular bands throughout liyue. you're unable to tell if cupid was helping you or not when things with xiao keept going up and down. will he continue to keep his secret from yours truly?

NOTES — the texting and smau stuff will be uploaded after this, seperated them so that its better to read ❣️ i need opinions on the writing tho cos the blood sweat and tears i put into this 😣 hopefully i didnt dissapoint

TAGLIST [OPEN] — @mikctp @ghostlysyntaxed @kazemiya @nnasv @gojoandelsalovechilde @candy-purple-cyanide @kissingkzuha @zyilas @lunaavity @luminescent-light @mave-in @rizakari @riikyu @kokoscutie @starsxnight @sketcheeee @softlie @izakyun @xiaxilia @the-sweet-madame @rifran @milkwithspiceyicecubes @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @rxkan7 @goodthingimsam @pomeiu @fogturtle @farelady-fate @tzu-scara143 @wonderful-worlds @cianalikesbeans @h3xi2g0n3 @jasxiao2317 @rosaryia @proserpinarom4 @offeliaswonderland @ynverse

(ask to be added or removed)

[oftenwantedafton]

Pas de Deux - William Afton x Female Ballerina Reader ~ A Ballora Origin Story

Chapter Two

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - none for this chapter

Also available on AO3

On a Friday afternoon you find yourself tucked into a corner booth at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

A double shift your mother picked up at the last minute has you waiting for a ride to the studio after the Aftons have agreed to provide transportation. You imagine Mrs. Afton scowling when she’d received the phone call, beginning to think you were more trouble than you were worth, while her husband murmured in the background he’d do it, it wasn’t any trouble, he didn’t mind an extra trip back and forth.

You consider your backpack and wonder if you could get some homework done but instantly dismiss the idea; between the noise of the arcade machines, the excited yelling and talking among the children gathered around two long tables pushed together to accommodate the guests of a birthday party, and the performance of the trio of animatronics onstage, moving jerkily in time to the music to mimic dancing, mouths moving to lip sync the lyrics to the song, the sheer volume of cacophony would make it impossible to try to block out and concentrate.

After a time William emerges from a hallway leading to the dining room. He’s different here, you notice; the environment has clearly affected him. A young girl struggles with the paper wrapping around a yellow crayon and he graciously stops to peel it for her, exposing the waxen tip. A woman nearby murmurs something to him and he smiles. It’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely happy and you feel something flutter in your stomach. A latex balloon grazes him arm and he playfully bats it back to the sender, another young guest at the party.

William’s eyes find yours staring at him and he gestures for you to follow him back into the office area, long fingers curling in an invitation. You grab your things and slide out of the padded yellow seat, weaving your way between the clusters of children and adults and find yourself in a part of the restaurant you’ve never seen.

He’s still ahead of you, holding up a hand to halt your progress and then he dips inside an open doorway. There’s a faint clicking sound as ceramic plates are shifted and he emerges with a pair balancing on top of a white pizza box with the Freddy Fazbear logo printed in red ink.

“Perks of being the boss. Unlimited fresh pizza. Let’s eat in here.” He leads you to a room with a frosted glass door eased open slightly with the word Manager printed on it. He shoves it open further with one shoe and unloads everything onto a large steel desk, inviting you to sit down as the door closes with a soft click behind you.

You tuck your bag underneath the steel folding chair as best you can and sit, watching him remove a pair of slices from the box and set one onto each plate. It looks like it’s loaded with cheese, perfectly toasted, and your stomach grumbles. You duck your head in embarrassment and he laughs softly, handing a portion to you. The edges of his slice fold together as he lifts it to his mouth and he takes a large bite, sighing in contentment.

“We’re on a health kick at home and it’s killing me. I needed something with grease and carbs.” He takes another bite and then eases back in his office chair, swiveling until he’s facing a small mini refrigerator. “Is Coke okay?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You try the pizza and find it’s as delicious as it looks. He hands you a can and a napkin and you wipe your fingers off before cracking open the top of the soda can. “It’s really good.”

“Damn right.” The older man takes a long swallow of carbonated beverage and watches you as you eat, an unreadable expression on his features.

“You’re really good with the kids,” you say before taking a sip of your drink. “I get why you opened this place now.”

William nods but says nothing, demolishing what’s left of the first slice before lifting the lid of the box and sneaking another piece free. His eyebrows raise but you shake your head.

”I have to watch what I eat.”

”Your figure is perfect.”

You blush, feeling as if he’s waiting for something, but you don’t recognize the cue. You trace a random pattern in the gathering condensation on the scarlet and white patterned aluminum. “Listen. About what happened the other night…”

His hand freezes mid swipe of napkin. “What did happen the other night?”

“You kissed me,” you say softly, nudging at the remnants of crust on your plate.

“It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes lift to find his. “I’m not. You really think it was a mistake?”

“No. I lied.” He pushes back from the desk slightly and adjusts his tie before inhaling deeply. “I’m married—”

“I’m aware,” you interrupt.

“—and you’re still in high school—” he continues to argue. You think he’s been struggling with these thoughts in his own head long before he’s voiced them out loud.

“In my senior year. And I’m eighteen,” you counter.

“Thank God for that,” he mutters.

You set your plate down on the desk and lean forward. “Do you…do you love your wife?”

“Of course. I mean. Things are different now. She’s got the studio to run and I have this place. It’s complicated.” He sighs, worrying at the tab on the soda can until it snaps free with a sharp metallic click. “That sounds cliche, doesn’t it? I’m not putting all the blame on her. I think we’ve both let our careers lead us away from one another.”

“Do you ever talk to her about it?”

“I wouldn’t use the word talk. Argue is more accurate.”

“Ouch. Maybe counseling?”

“She won’t. She finds it…distasteful to air out grievances to a complete stranger.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know.” He crumples up his tomato sauce stained napkin and drops it onto his plate. You notice a new cut on his hand and he sees you staring. “A drawback to this job. Out there on stage it’s all wonder and magic. Behind the scenes you have to work with a lot of mechanics and circuitry. It’s dangerous,” he warns, stroking a thumb over the injury, his eyes locking with yours.

You think he means more than just his labor and you signal your understanding with a nod, watching him gather up the remnants of your shared meal. He drops the dishes off in the kitchen while you retrieve your school bag and then you follow him to the car.

It feels strange being in the passenger seat in the front of the sedan. Mrs. Afton’s imagined displeasure at this intrusion into the space she always occupies is almost tangible. It makes you fumble with the seatbelt and William leans over to assist, sliding the metal into place and adjusting the shoulder strap. Every touch lingers longer than necessary. Impulsively you cup his cheek, and he traps your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist gently.

“You’re going to be the ruin of me,” he says, reluctantly releasing his grasp so he can turn the key in the ignition.

***

Your arrival to the ballet studio is early, a good hour before class is scheduled to begin.

You tell William you have to get changed, heading to the dressing room to shed your school uniform in exchange for a black leotard and white tights. You’ve just sat on the carpeted bench and begun lacing your first slipper when he taps on the door.

“Are you decent?”

“What if I say I’m not?” You challenge playfully.

“Then I can’t enter.”

You huff in exasperation. “I’m dressed, you can come in.”

The door cracks open slightly and William’s face appears. He watches you wind the satin in a criss cross pattern around one ankle and he pushes the door open the remainder of the way. “Let me help you with that.”

“I can manage.” You shake your head, about to finish tying the knot in the divot between ankle and Achilles tendon when he kneels down, interrupting your movements.

“I want to do it,” he says, his low tone setting something humming inside of you. “I want to touch you.”

You swallow thickly, surrendering your efforts, the ribbons falling loosely. His fingers massage the muscles of your lower leg as he winds them once again, moving past the knot and caressing your calf. He kisses your knee softly and you feel on fire. He repeats the process for the opposite limb, hesitating, reluctant to stop touching you. You thread your fingers through the raven’s wing of hair falling across his forehead and his grasp reflexively tightens.

“William…” You've never called him by his first name and it seems to ignite something feral within him. He lunges to his feet, pulling you into a standing position in one smooth motion. Your back strikes the mirror on the wall as he shoves you against it. His fingers wrap around your throat, exerting a faint pressure, teasing out a silent question.

You try to swallow, find it difficult with the sudden compression of cartilage. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you nod. He kisses them, captures the salted liquid with his lips, steals the heavy breath you try to inhale when he releases his grip on your windpipe at last. His tongue slides against yours, lips crushing as your mouths collide roughly.

“Hello? Are you in here?”

The muffled voice immediately halts the kiss. William abruptly releases you, his breath still coming in soft pants. “Fuck, she’s early,” he whispers.

“Yes, I’m just…just getting changed, Mrs. Afton,” you manage, struggling to recover your composure.

“Where’s William?”

“Uh…I think he went out back to smoke.”

“I’ll bet he did.” Her disapproving voice trails off as she moves away from the changing room.

William rakes a hand through his dark tresses and adjusts the knot of his tie while you crouch down, relacing the satin ties of your slippers.

“I told her to take the other car today. So when I take you home tonight, it’ll just be us.”

“Okay.” You rise, smoothing out the spandex material until the clinging black fabric is adequately placed. William gathers the hair at the nape of your neck and kisses that vacant spot softly, at odds with his rough demands moments before.

Then he’s gone, leaving you to tame and secure your tousled hair into a bun. You stare at your reflection, thinking your lips look slightly swollen, noting a blotch of red staining your cheeks and throat where his stubble had scratched against you. You touch your neck gingerly and wonder if there will be bruises later.

William was right. This was dangerous.

[redriotinggg]

Ivankov's Drag Race

I watch a lot of RuPaul's Drag Race 'cause I love drag and reality TV and I'm queer as fuck. So here's the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written for day 4 of @sanusoweek, presented 100% on-time :P

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Welcome to season 12 of Ivankov's Drag Race; a reality show where a group of drag artists compete to snatch the crown and win a prize of $150,000!

JUDGES: Ivankov (Host & Main Judge), Bon Clay, and Inazuma. Every week they are joined by famous drag artists, fashion icons, musicians, and queer allies, who share their opinions and provide feedback.

COMPETITORS: Sanji, Usopp, Brook, Doll, Caesar Clown, Pudding, Chuu, Helmeppo, Izo, Bartolomeo, Buggy the Clown, Catarina, and Perona.

WEEK ONE: The first episodes of the season are a double premiere where the performers show off their talents, personalities, and personal styles. No eliminations.

WEEK TWO: This week the competitors are participating in a scripted acting challenge. As the top two performers during the talent show, Brook and Izo are appointed team captains and choose their teams.

Team Brook includes Sanji, Usopp, Pudding, Bartolomeo, and Perona. Team Izo has Buggy, Caesar, Helmeppo, Doll, Catarina, and Chuu. The winner of the week is Usopp!

The audience gets their first glimpse of the Sanji-Pudding-Usopp love triangle as both Usopp and Pudding bond with Sanji during the challenge.

Chuu and Doll are in the bottom and lip sync for their lives, ultimately resulting in Chuu being eliminated.

WEEK THREE: This week, the contestants are challenged to design and create a runway outfit that represents their drag persona. Sanji is stressed because he wears pretty looks, he doesn't sew them. He sidles over to his new friend Usopp and doesn't hesitate to flirt with him in hopes of getting some help creating his look. Usopp flirts back and is more than happy to provide some assistance. In the confessionals, Pudding reveals that she isn't happy that Sanji went to Usopp for help when her style is so much better than his.

Perona wins the challenge and Bartolomeo absolutely demolishes Helmeppo in the lip sync and sends him home.

WEEK FOUR: The contestants are split into teams to pitch a television show of their creation. (Sanji & Pudding, Buggy & Usopp, Izo & Catarina, Barto & Perona, and Doll, Brook, & Caesar).

Buggy and Usopp share a win after they deliver a hilarious performance. Doll and Caesar have a massive disagreement which affects their performance in the challenge and lands them in the bottom. Their argument in Untucked goes down in Drag Race herstory. Doll is sent home after lipsyncing against Caesar.

WEEK FIVE: This week is the much-anticipated girl group challenge! Sanji, Usopp, Barto, Perona, and Izo perform a high-energy pop number while Buggy, Brook, Catarina, Caesar, and Pudding dance to sultry, seductive choreo.

Sanji is this week's winner and after battling Buggy, Caesar is sent home.

WEEK SIX: In the second of the season's design challenge, the contestants must create a runway look worthy of royalty. Once again, Sanji finds his way over to Usopp for assistance and a round of flirting. A jealous Pudding comments that Sanji should ask for help from someone who actually has a good sense of style since Usopp's taste level has come into question in the past. Cue passive-aggressive comments from both of them throughout the rest of the episode.

Izo is this week's winner and Catarina is sent home after losing to Buggy in the lip sync.

WEEK SEVEN: At the halfway point of the competition, the girls do celebrity impersonations for the infamous Snatch Game challenge.

Usopp's amazing impersonations gain him another challenge win. There is a sweet moment between him and Sanji in Untucked when he encourages a stressed-out Sanji who landed in the bottom three.

Izo is sent home after an emotional lip sync with Sanji.

WEEK EIGHT: This week, the remaining competitors perform in a musical! As last week's winner, Usopp is given the power to assign roles, which doesn't bode well for Pudding, who has been planting seeds of doubt in the mind of an anxious Usopp.

Brook wins the challenge after his spectacular performance as the lead in the musical. Pudding wins against Perona in a lipsync that many fans think should've been a double shantay.

WEEK NINE: The competitors show off three runway looks for the Grand Line Ball! The first look is Marine Madness and the second is Pirate Couture, both brought from home. The third look, Devil Fruitiness, must be created in the workroom and to no one's surprise, Sanji is over by Usopp's workstation. He seems to have learned a lot from his lessons from Usopp though, so they spend their time laughing and flirting as they create their looks.

Pudding wins the challenge and Buggy wins his lipsync over Bartolomeo.

WEEK TEN: The top five queens give makeovers to young queers, putting them in drag and creating a family resemblance between them.

After getting negative critiques, Pudding has a bit of a breakdown in Untucked this week, taking her frustrations out on Usopp and resulting in a heated argument. Brook calms down Usopp and Sanji reels in Pudding.

Sanji wins his second challenge and Buggy is sent home after an intense lipsync against Pudding.

WEEK ELEVEN: In the last challenge before the finale, the remaining four competitors are prompted to write, record, and perform a verse to Ivankov's original song, Revolution.

Brook wins the challenge with one of the best verses and performances in Drag Race herstory. Usopp and Pudding land in the bottom and perform an iconic lipsync that ultimately sends Pudding home.

WEEK TWELVE: Before the finale, all of the competitors return for a reunion episode hosted by Ivankov going over all of the season's drama. Pudding is called out by Perona and Bartolomeo for being two-faced and treating Usopp poorly. Ivankov puts the spotlight on Sanji, who is in the middle of the drama between Pudding and Usopp. The Doll vs. Caesar altercation is also re-hashed and goes unresolved.

WEEK THIRTEEN: In front of a live audience, the top three competitors Sanji, Brook, and Usopp do a performance of their choice in a final bid for the crown, which ultimately goes to............ BROOK!!!!!!

---

To the delight of audiences everywhere, Sanji and Usopp enter into a romantic relationship after the show had finished filming (so by the time the season aired, they'd been dating for about a year!). The fanfiction that is written about them is insane and Sanji is begging Usopp to stop reading it, damn it! They have also resolved the issue between themselves and Pudding and are now very close friends.

Sanji and Usopp go on to star in several other reality shows, their popularity growing with each appearance they make. They become one of the most iconic couples in television history and go down as queer icons.

[a-girl-must-have-a-new-name]

All of the Times Naruto Knew She Danced and the One Time He Didn't

Part Four

The fourth time was after the couple moved in together. While he had noticed Hinata dancing in the apartment from time to time, it was more of an unconscious movement. Hinata gliding and turning elegantly around the apartment came as simply and naturally as breathing.  

No, whatever this type of dance was, was  very… consciousable.  If that was even a word. Naruto thought to himself,  as he watched Hinata push their couch up against a wall, while Kiba lifted the dining table up over his head and casually walked past Naruto. A stupid smirk on his face as he plopped the table onto the couple’s bed. 

“Excuse me, Naruto, where can I put this?” Naruto jumped from the close proximity of Shino. Turning his head slightly away from the man. In order to avoid being cheek to cheek, Naruto felt a vein throbbing and his annoyance rising. Before Naruto could even figure out a nice way to tell Shino exactly where he could put his tv. Hinata’s sweet melodic voice crashed over him, calming Naruto.

“Shino-kun please bring the tv this way.”

Shino nodded as he moved around Naruto. Plopping the tv onto the coffee table that Kiba had also commandeered and moved towards the opposite wall. Naruto watched from his safe spot in the kitchen  as team eight continued to rearrange the apartment.

It was Tuesday night, and like his standing sparring session with Hinata, it seemed team eight had a routine all of their own. Hinata had asked Naruto a few nights ago  if he would mind if the boys came over.( It was her week to host the event.) Naruto was quick to remind her that this was her apartment now too, and she could do whatever she wanted. Hinata beamed and kissed him on the cheek. Promising him that they wouldn’t cause too much of a disturbance as she began to give detail of the night. Still focusing on the warmth of her lips, Naruto grabbed her. Effectively cutting her off and preventing her from moving away, as he pulled both of them onto the couch. The rest of the conversation was quickly forgotten.

But now, as he watched Kiba and Shino begin to stretch in his small apartment he thought maybe he should have listened a little more thoroughly. Surely they weren’t about to spar in here right? Looking over the small apartment he realized how cramped they all truly were. So much so that Akamaru was also banished to the kitchen as it was the only space left for the dog. Just as he was about to let his concerns be known Kiba turned the tv on and flipped to a station that played music videos. 

“Guys they’re on!”   The gasp of excitement that came from Hinata, was way too adorable as she scrambled up from the floor crowding the tv with her other two members. However, once he saw what was happening in front of him Naruto almost choked on the cup of ramen he had made. As the music video was starting Kiba, Shino, and Hinata all three got into their places and as the members of the boybands began to move, so did each member of team eight. 

Naruto could only think to cover his mouth as Shino started the dance by slowly walking out towards the middle of what was now apparent their makeshift “stage” and posed for just a moment before the music went into an upbeat tempo and suddenly Shino was moving. Arm for arm. Leg for leg, Shino matched the choreography perfectly. Then suddenly Shino and Kiba switched places as Kiba and his designated dancer took center stage. Both were powerhouses as they swung their bodies in all different directions and did hand movements. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought Kiba was going through hand signals for a  jutsu.

Suddenly the chorus of the song rose and with it the three team members in complete sync did the full routine together. It was quite silly to see these three moving forward towards the tv arms wiggling before all skipping backwards, arms windmilling behind them. On and on they kept going, as a new member would perform a solo so would one of team eight. It was only as the final beat of the chorus ended  and the team in front of him hit their final poses that Naruto finally couldn’t contain it anymore and let out a chuckle. 

Three pairs of eyes (Four if he was counting Akamaru) turned to him. A smile on Hinata’s face, while Kiba looked unimpressed and Shino, well he really couldn’t tell what Shino was thinking.

“Got a problem, buddy?” Kiba demanded, still in his final pose. That caused Naruto to outright laugh. Clutching his stomach as he did so.

“I’m sorry-I really am not trying to be rude, I just didn’t expect that!” 

“Why not? Routine dances are a good form of exercise and a valuable training tool.” Shino spoke up as the group moved out of their pose to face Naruto.

“Training tool?” Naruto’s interest peaked as the three nodded vigorously.  

“Come join us, Naruto-kun!” Hinata urged, suddenly excited over the idea.

“I don’t know Hinata I-

“Please!” she begged, her eye’s big and wide with hope. Naruto couldn’t deny her. With a resigned sigh he made his way over to the three, choosing to ignore the sound Akamaru made as he passed (which sounded suspiciously like a laugh.) Once he was in front of the tv.  Hinata very seriously began to explain. 

“When on the field you need to be able to assess a situation in a moment's notice. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“ So you must be able to adapt quickly and move almost without thinking in order to counter an attack.”

“Yes?” 

“So here’s what you are going to do. Whatever song comes up next, you are going to pick a person to focus on. You’ll have a few seconds to figure out how they move and then you are going to copy their movements to the best of your ability. The goal is to be able to calculate your opponent or in this case your dancer’s  moves almost before they even know what they will do. Ok, Naruto-kun?”  Suddenly this didn’t seem nearly as silly as it had been a few seconds ago. It actually did sound like serious and useful training.  Excitement pumped through Naruto’s veins as he moved to the front of the tv. 

“Yeah! Let’s do this!” Naruto shouted, hyper focused, and ready to take on whatever came his way. 

“Wait, what?” Naruto fumbled as the very next video was a girl group.  He looked at all of the girls in the video, a very different concept from the fast paced energetic one that had previously played on the screen. Maybe he could try the next video.

“Quickly, Naruto-kun, get in position!”  Hinata exclaimed. Naruto jumped, nodding as he quickly scanned the girl group and made to move to the center spot.

“No way! That's my spot!” Kiba barked as he yanked Naruto behind him. Naruto was about to strangle the man but the music had already started. Giving Kiba one last glare he moved into the same starting pose as the girl standing behind Kiba’s. Naruto had less than a second to question what he was even doing before the girls started to move. 

If anyone outside of his living room had asked him how he did, he would have said it was a piece of cake.  However, the truth of it was a very different story entirely. The poor man stumbled around for what felt like the longest four minutes of his life.  At some point he just stood rigidly still, only offering late hand gestures. It took Hinata’s encouragement for him to keep going, and so he powered through running in tempo to his positions, swaying and moving his body, most notably his hips, in ways he was not all that used to. A fact that Kiba felt the need to yell out from across the room.

“For someone who used to change into a sexy babe for fun, you sure have no feminine grace about you!” Kiba mocked as he himself shimmied slowly towards the ground before moving back up and jutting a hip out. The jab was the insult it seemed Naruto needed to up his own ante.

“Fuck off Kiba! I’ve got twice the feminine grace you do!” Naruto shouted as he aggressively snapped his fingers to the beat. Determined to prove himself, Naruto brought his arms in toward his chest before  throwing them up towards the ceiling. From there Naruto rotated his wrist as seductively as possible. Grinning to himself in victory when he caught Hinata blushing as she unabashedly watched the movement . Feeling encouraged and storing that information away for later, Naruto hit every move after it was only when the video ended that he allowed himself to drop to the floor gasping for air. 

“How..huff..was..that?!” Naruto gasped out as he laid on the floor.

“Terrific Naruto-kun!” Hinata beamed at him giving him a thumbs up.

“Very promising. Why? Because even though you have no rhythm, you have the will to work hard.”  Shino murmured.

“I’ve seen better.”  Kiba huffed as he turned his head away.  Naruto ignored the other two ‘s comments and jabs as he smiled up at Hinata as she bent over him smiling radiantly as she offered her hand. Naruto took it without hesitation as he got up.

The rest of the night was spent much of the same. New groups came on and Naruto would dance. Some groups were better than others and at least three videos from that first male group played throughout the night and judging by the excitement on team eight’s face as they danced, it seemed they were a crowd favorite. Though as the videos kept playing Naruto had to admit the girl group was his favorite and when by pure luck the first song he’d danced to came back on a second time Naruto made sure he hit every move. It was one of the best workouts of his life. So much so that as the group began rearranging the apartment back into it’s usual state. Naruto confessed his enjoyment and said he’d like to mention this to all of the teams and maybe have a large group training exercise.

 At that Kiba burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he bellowed. Shino feigned a coughing fit though Naruto noted the grin he was trying to hide, while Hinata looked mortified. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“You-You really thought  we were training?!” Kiba gasped out in between laughs. 

“Kiba!” Hinata admonished her long time friend before taking Naruto’s hand.

“Naruto-kun, I must apologize, we  might not have been entirely truthful. This isn’t a training session, this is just a… Fun session…”

“A fun session?” 

“A hobby.”

“So you guys just meet up every week to dance?”

“Not every week. Why? Because some weeks we do karaoke.” Naruto whipped his head around to look at Shino who had calmed down enough to speak. Naruto gave him a hard look trying to decide if he was tricking him again. The image of Shino standing in front of a crowd singing seemed even more ridiculous than the idea of him dancing. He turned back to Hinata as she stood fidgeting, a look of shame on her face.

“We just wanted to include you, but didn’t want you to think it was silly!”  Hinata said earnestly which melted any indignation Naruto might have felt away. Coming up to her he pulled her into a big hug.

“It’s okay Hinata! I probably wouldn’t have joined in as willingly had you not spun it as training. But I really enjoyed it!” Naruto knew an innocent prank when he saw one. And while he was annoyed that he let Shino and Kiba get the best of him, he couldn’t be prouder of Hinata for keeping a straight face as long as she did.

In fact, the thought of Hinata pranking him kinda turned him on. So without hesitation he brought his head down and captured her lips using the surprised gasp from her to the fullest extent as he deepened the kiss. Ignoring the cries of disgust from their two friends Naruto pulled her closer and felt victory and satisfaction when he felt Hinata’s hands gently tugging at his hair and the telltale sound of his door slamming shut as the rest of team eight fled.

The door alerted Hinata  to pull away just enough so that she could look him in the eyes as a giggle of their own erupted out of the two of them. Pulling her towards their bedroom. A mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Come on Hinata, it's time for us to have a fun session of our own!” 

“N-Naruto!” Hinata gasped but quickly followed the man into their bedroom. Clothes being chucked as they go. It was much closer towards morning when Hinata and Naruto had finally settled down into bed intending to get at least a few hours of sleep. As they cuddled into each other Naruto thought back on Hinata’s dancing that night. Every time he thought he had Hinata figured out. Every time he thought he had her every step, every pattern, every movement memorized deep in his soul, she would surprise him. Naruto squeezed her tightly, daring to break the silence one final time.

“You know, I still think we should make it a big group training session. Maybe not on a Tuesday night though, maybe on a weekend.” Naruto pondered out loud.

“Sure, Naruto-Kun. I think that would be fun.” Hinata murmured groggily as she nestled even further into his warmth.

“Yeah definitely not Tuesday nights, keep those for team eight.”

“That would be nice.” Hinata replied with a yawn. 

“I would still be allowed to come though-right?” Naruto asked thoughtfully.

“Of course, love” Hinata gave him the most earnest bleary eyed smile as she pulled the covers up tighter around them, her eyes drifting shut.

“Awesome! Because if you're so sexy when you dance I can only imagine how sexy it will be to hear you sing!” Naruto quipped as he kissed her cheek goodnight and quickly fell asleep.

“Thank you, Naru- Wait what?!” Hinata’s eyes shot open as she bolted up, leaning on her elbow to look at her boyfriend who was snoring rather loudly, a suspicious grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.  

“Naruto-kun!” Hinata tried  again, as she shook the “slumbering blonde”  but all she was meet with was another playful snore.

[warningsine]

The funniest show on television is Girls5Eva, which transplanted from the backwoods of Peacock to the mires of Netflix for its third season. While a lot of shows have taken off after landing on Netflix — You, for instance — Girls5Eva, from the data available publicly, didn’t get many viewers on the platform. I’m no expert on the mechanics of streaming, but I have one radical explanation for why this is happening: There are simply not enough episodes of Girls5Eva available to watch. On Peacock, the show had two eight-episode seasons. Netflix has given it an additional six. That means that Girls5Eva has aired, in total, only 22 episodes, about the same number as a full-season order of an old-fashioned network sitcom like 30 Rock, to which Meredith Scardino’s series is deeply indebted (Scardino wrote on 30 Rock; Tina Fey is a Girls5Eva executive producer). Over a three-year period? This is simply not enough!

Sitcoms are built for mass production and consumption, with dynamics between characters designed to generate an endless stream of story lines, and it can take a season or two to fully gel. Girls5Eva is lucky enough to have a distinct sensibility and a strong cast from the start, but it hasn’t had the space to work through all the possible material. There’s so much to mine in flashbacks to the girl group’s checkered early-aughts past, in Wickie’s failed solo career, in Summer’s wackadoo Christian upbringing, in Gloria’s fraught lesbian drama, and in Dawn’s attempts to find her own way as a songwriter (plus the larger meta arc of Sara Bareilles coming into her own as a comedic actor). Season three, in which the crew goes on tour around the country, tries to cover so much ground it’s like a distance runner sprinting at her vO2 max. The overarching plot — they want to perform at Radio City Music Hall — encroaches on all the fun along the way, rushing past a guest appearance from Cat Cohen, the reveal of Wickie’s real backstory, and an intricate Harry Styles parody. Sitcoms should be about all the fun everyone is having along the way, and we’ve lost that.

But there is another and perhaps more important reason that we need longer seasons of Girls5Eva: holidays. Network sitcoms, airing on a traditional schedule, have the opportunity to set episodes around the holidays near which they would air; think of the Thanksgiving episodes of Friends, The Office’s Christmas episodes, 30 Rock’s impeccable use of Leap Day. In my ideal universe where Girls5Eva has 22-episode seasons, Netflix would also abandon the binge strategy and air those episodes weekly, but that’s not a necessity. You could still drop them all at once, which gives me the opportunity to revisit the holiday episodes as those holidays occur throughout the year. If you need convincing, here are my suggestions for some holidays the Girls5Eva might celebrate:

Christmas (duh): Dawn tries to write a Christmas song; Wickie reveals a longstanding feud with Mariah Carey (she claims one of the items from her riff rolodex appears in “All I Want for Christmas Is You”; Mariah does not know her).

Thanksgiving: The girls try to book a gig at the Macy’s Parade (as Peacock actually had the stars do, to the confusion of my parents watching at home) while also atoning for their past sins at the event (revealed in flashback).

Valentine’s Day: Gloria revisits a past relationship with Taylor Lautner (she was his dentist).

Tax season: Summer reveals she hasn’t been paying taxes for years (thought you were covered if you already paid your church).

Presidents’ Day: Dawn tries to write a song about Lincoln being sexy, inadvertently offends a gay activist group.

Pride month: Return of Bowen Yang’s lip-sync influencer.

Cuffing season: Big for Gloria.

The Feast of San Gennaro: Big for Dawn (why is the show so all-in on Sara Bareilles being Italian??).

V-E Day: Wickie and Dawn’s husband, Scott, discover their mutual fascination with the Eastern Front: “I spent a lot of time touring post-Soviet states, okay!”

Casimir Pulaski Day: Gloria has beef with Sufjan Stevens.