#like the muscles in my throat feel like every night I’m screaming at a concert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moral-turpitudes · 3 years

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Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years

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Reckless (Dark Fic)

Summary: Waking home at night after a concert with her best friend she didn’t notice the police car standing on the other side of the street. Or the man following her in the middle of the night on her short way home. She could already see her house when she was pressed with her back against the wall, her hands handcuffed over her head. She should have listenend to her husband earlier who wanted to pick her up…

Warnings: Explicit, con noncon, mentions of stalking, obsession, breeding kink

Pairing: Dark!Walter Marshall x Nameless OFC

Wordcount: 2.8k

A/N: Okay so here it is. It’s something completely different to the stuff I write usually, but it’s been on my mind for weeks. Please read the warnings. I don’t want anyone coming in my ask box complaining about how sick I am. Thank you to @ladyreapermc who edited the shit out of it. Love you x

Masterlist

Humming to herself she walked down the dark road after attending a concert of her favorite band The taxi dropped her and her friend off at her house, where she had a beer before making her way home. It was only a five minute walk, so she declined someone bringing her home.It was a small town and it was almost midnight, on a school night. The only thing that would scare her along the way would probably be a stray cat.

With her headphones on, she fought the urge to sing along. She had to go out more. Between her job, the house, the man... She smiled to herself as she thought of him, probably still at work, trying to stay awake. When she met her husband almost 6 years ago, him being her knight in shining armour when her card was declined at the gas station, she thought he was just being nice, when he paid for her fill of gas. They got married two years after they met.

She didn’t notice the man following her as she took the shortcut through the dark alley to the right, already seeing her house in the dark just across the street.

Walter had watched her ever since she and her drunk friend got out of the taxi. She didn’t know that he had been watching her at every opportunity he got when he was free. No one would ever suspect a police officer being a creep.

He stayed seated in his unmarked police car, across the house she disappeared in. He wondered if she would be walking home by herself. As it turned out she was. He watched her say goodbye to her friend before she put her headphones on and all but danced down the street.

He waited until she was almost out of sight before he got out of his car and followed her. He knew that she lived only a couple minutes away. He knew there had been a concert in town and had seen her as he drove by the location hours ago. She was wearing that light blue summer dress. He loved how it looked on her. How it clung to the volume of her breasts and barely reached her knees.

He shook his head in disbelief when she took the shortcut through the dark alley. The light there went out months ago and nobody bothered to fix it, leaving that stretch of street completely in darkness,the light from the lamp post outside barely doing anything to help. It was the perfect place for what he had in mind.

She still had no clue that someone was following her, too lost in her music, too distracted to care and it gave Walter even more time to plan his move, to keep his identity concealed for a few more moments because she knew who he was, of course. He earned himself quite the fame after the killer twins a couple of years ago. He was the famous Detective Walter Marshall, the one who made everyone feel safe. No one would ever suspect that he could do the same things he arrested people for.

She was just about to step out of the alley, when she felt a strong hand around her left wrist, her back being pushed almost violently into the wall. A scream died on her lips when another hand covered her mouth.

“Don’t even think about it…” A gruff deep voice startled her as she pulled her hands up against his broad chest.

She didn’t even notice that she had started crying, slowly blinking her eyes as she tried to make out the face of the man who held her with his body against the wall. Once again, she tried to push him off, still not being able to see just who it was, though she knew the voice.

“If you want it the hard way…” He growled, the hand over her mouth moving to her neck, holding her still in a choke as he seemed to search for something. Her fingers scraped and slapped the strong forearm connected to the hand holding her still, but her struggles barely fazed him. He was so much bigger than her, so much stronger. Her resistance was futile.

Once he found what he was looking for, Walter grabbed one of her wrists, watching as her eyes widened in surprise at the familiar click and the cold metal surrounding her wrist tightly. He tugged her arm up, releasing her throat long enough to grab her other arm and pull it up, handcuffing her to the rusty metal railing of a fire escape stairs hanging right above her.

“No… No No No No no…” She shook her head as panic started to set in. Why didn’t she stay at her friend’s house?

“What brings you here in the middle of the night, sweetheart? Look at me.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Det… Detective Marshall?” She asked. She would recognize the eyes of the handsome Detective anywhere.

Marshall might just be the most handsome man in the small town they lived. Always polite and helpful, even if somewhat grumpy, but right now there was also something animalistic about him that she found highly attractive.

“How many times did I tell you not to wander alone through the night, hm?” He asked.

“But.. It’s safe around here…” She managed.

“Clearly not.” He grinned down at her and she shivered.

“What… What are you going to do to me?” She whispered.

“Oh… Nothing you’re not going to enjoy.”

His hand ran down her side, pausing at the bare skin of her thigh and she finally realized what was about to happen.

“Please… Please don’t. You’re better than that…” She whimpered, tears escaping her eyes.

“Oh hush… I’ve seen how you look at me. Don’t pretend you haven’t fantasised about how it would feel….” His hand forced itself between her legs. “if I’d touch you right here.”

She pressed her eyes close. Imagining being everywhere but here. Her arms above her head felt heavy. How was this happening?

“Stop struggling. You’re clearly enjoying this…” He hummed, feeling her warm and damp core with his fingers.

“You could have had this the easy way. Without forcing me…” She cried.

“Where would be the fun in that, hm?” He asked. “I see you around all day, wearing all these sexy clothes, and you don’t even notice that everyone is staring at you, don’t you?”

She looked at him, noticing how his dark gaze watched her every move. He was so handsome. Would probably be even more handsome with a new haircut, yet the dark curly hair that screamed to be touched made him appear even more… beastlike.

She had always been fascinated by his eyes. How they seemed to hold all the answers in the world. She never would have thought that a deep inside he caged a monster that he now was ready to unleash on her.

“Just get it over with then…” She said, suddenly feeling very tired. He pushed his groin against her pelvis, making her hiss. She could feel his hard cock, as he brought his face so close his breath tickled her skin and she could smell the coffee he must have had earlier that night.

“Oh no… I want you to enjoy this….” His lips crashed down on hers, all teeth and tongue, his hips rolling against hers. “And I want you to scream my name every time I make you cum.” He whispered into her ear, biting her earlobe as his fingers ripped her panties off, making her gasp.

Why was this happening to her? And why on Earth did she start to enjoy this?Anywhere his hands touched her body seemed to be on fire. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter everytime his hand wandered down her body, despite her best attempts to keep her legs closed. But if to deny him accept or to offer herself some blessed friction, she didn’t quite know.,. However, Marshall was undeniably stronger and pried her thighs open, pushing his clothed thigh in between them. The whimper that escaped her lips, she didn’t know if it was of fear or relief from having the supple muscle pressing against her aching flesh.

“I wonder if you taste as good as you look…” His grin was more a bearing of teeth of a hungry predator as he cupped her breasts, squeezing them harshly, making her whimper once again.“Like they were made for my hands…” He yanked the neckline of her dress down, the noise of ripping fabric filling her ears and exposing her hard nipples to him.

“And wearing no bra… It almost seemed like you wanted this….” He whispered in a mocking tone, before he leaned down and bit onto one of her nipples, making her cry out.

She struggled against the handcuffs, wanting nothing more than to escape, yet at the same time she didn’t want him to stop. She hated herself for enjoying the way he sucked on her nipple, hard. She would have marks from him for days.

“Everytime I see these tits I’m hard as fuck. Do you feel that?” He pushed himself closer against her. “Sometimes I think about you when I’m alone. How you feel. But fuck the real thing is better than I imagined.”

Gasping she threw her head back against the wall as she felt his other hand on her pussy. He pushed one finger in, making her cry out, while his other hand pinched her other nipple.

“So tight and wet.” He groaned, looking up at her. He brought his finger up, licking it.

“Better than I imagined. Tell me how many men fucked this pretty pussy?” He asked, taking a step away from her. He looked at her, so helpless, her arms over her head, her lips flushed and swollen from his kisses.

He couldn’t believe his luck. Having her here. Where she couldn’t run. At his mercy.

She didn’t answer him as she watched him open the fly of his pants. She could see his gun on his holster, making her gulp. Feeling herself shivering as he pulled his cock out, she closed her eyes. He was big. Probably too big for her. She could only hope that he would prepare her a little. Otherwise this would be even more painful than it already would be.

“Aww don’t close your eyes. Look at what you did.” He hummed. Breathing in deep she opened her eyes, looking into his.

“Like what you see?” He asked. In one last effort to stop him she brought her knee up as he stepped closer. It didn’t do anything.

“You fucking slut.” He growled, slapping her across the face, making her cry out.

“I was going to go gently on you, but you don’t want it gentle, do you?” He pushed the remains of her dress up, spitting into his hand rubbing his hard and throbbing cock.

“You want to be treated like the whore you are…” He grabbed one of her legs under her knee, pulling it up around his waist, his cock at her entrance.

“No… No don’t.” She cried.

“Oh shut up. I can feel you dripping on my cock already. Want me to cum inside you, huh?” He chuckled. She shook her head, a million scenarios going through her mind. She could end up pregnant from this.

“At least use a condom…” She pleaded. He stopped, looking down at her.

“No. I think I want to risk you ending up pregnant with my baby. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson.” He said, before she felt him push inside of her.

All breath seemed to be pushed out of her body. She must have been wetter than she thought because it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. He hissed, pulling out of her before he thrusted his cock inside of her in one motion making her scream.

“There you go.” He hummed. He could see the tears in her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” He groaned as he bottomed out, only to slam back in, making her moan. He grabbed her other leg, pushing her against the wall as he began to thrust into her almost violently.

She whimpered, the feeling of his hands grabbing her legs so hard it would leave marks as he fucked into her, making her cry more.

“Even better than I imagined. I think I wanna make you cum…” He whispered. She felt one of his hands leave her legs, that she unintentionally crossed behind his back, as his fingers found her clit.

“You like that?” He rubbed her nub, swallowing her cries as he kissed her hard. She bit into his lip, making him groan.

“Fuck you Walter.” She hissed. She could see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he looked at her. Two of his fingers rolled her clit in between them, making her cry out.

“Cum for me you fucking slut.” He growled, thrusting harder into her.

“No…” She cried, even though she could feel herself getting close.

“If you don’t cum, I won’t stop.” He threatened. “We’ll be here until you cum, no matter how long and how often I cum inside of you.”

“No.. Please….” She cried, turning her head away from him.

“Look at me.” He growled. She swallowed the lump of shame and arousal clogging her throat, turning her head towards him. “I want to look into your eyes when you cum. I can already feel you tightening around my cock. And you better scream my name when you cum.”

He marked every word with a hard thrust making her cry out. Hot tears burned tracks down her cheeks as she tried to fight him off, but her movements seemed to be meeting his thrusts, sending spikes of pleasure up her body.

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making her cum, but the way he was fucking her, the way he was touching her, pushed all of her buttons. With every thrust, every flick at her clit she felt herself growing closer. He brought his other hand to her neck.

“You better cum now…”

His movements grew harder, faster as his hand closed around her neck, choking her. The knot inside of her exploded, leaving her breathless as she cried out his name, her orgasm taking over her body. She shivered against his body, not even noticing as his hand left her neck, landing on her ass as he pushed her into him with every thrust. She didn’t feel the handcuffs around her wrists, the metal biting into her skin, leaving a bracelet of bruises. She only felt overwhelming pleasure, riding out the longest and probably most intense orgasm she ever had in her life.

“Fuck. Yes. Just like that. You ready for my cum, slut?” Walter growled. She only whimpered in his response, caught between pleasure and disgust as she felt him still inside of her, his cock pumping his seed to where she least wanted it. Silently crying, she felt his forehead on her shoulder as they both tried to catch her breath.

She heard the rattle of keys, before his hands opened the handcuffs.

“Slowly.” He shushed, as she groaned. He put her arms around her shoulders, as he picked her up, her gentleness such a contrast to the brutality of moments before. She breathed in deep.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. She blinked her eyes open, looking at him. The dark gaze, the monster was gone, and left was only her Walter. He rubbed his hands over her wrists where she slowly got the feeling back.

“I’m perfect.” She sighed blissfully. He didn’t set her down, instead picking her up, but not before he made sure that she was fully covered. When did he pull up his pants?

“Was that good?” He asked. She finally opened her eyes, looking at him, as he slowly walked towards their home.

“I didn’t know you would really do it.” She said. Even in the dark she could see him blush.

“You trusted me with your fantasy and I was kinda curious.”

“It was just like I imagined.” She said, kissing him softly. “And it was kinda hot seeing you so… dominant.”

“Really?” He asked with a grin. She only nodded, playing with the soft curls on the back of his head as he searched for the keys to their house.

“How about a long hot bath and then we go to bed?” He asked as he unlocked the door.

“Sounds perfect.” She smiled tiredly. “I love you, Walter.”

“I love you too, baby.” He smiled back, before he kissed her forehead.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #Walter marshall #henry cavill #Walter Marshall x reader #Walter Marshall x ofc #dark fic

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thirstystarkey · 4 years

Text

Bass Players 🦋 Rudy Pankow AU

Prompt: Y/N is forced by her best friends to attend the most desired underground rock band, against her will she goes. But what happens when she gets stuck with one of the band members? Will she discover the why they say bass players have the best fingers or will she just ignore him?

Warnings: mention of drugs and alcohol, sex, various kinks including choking, overstimulation, public sex, this is just another script for pornhub tbh

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN, IF YOU WANT TO SEND ME ANY BLURB OR PROMPT ABOUT THIS TROPE (y/n x rockstar!rudy) IM MORE THAN WILLING TO DO IT, LOVE YOU ALL 🥰💞✨

It all started when her roommates, who were also Y/N’s best friends, decided it was a perfect idea to attend a sweaty dirty concert just to droll over some dumbasses with good voices and cute faces. Y/N wasn’t in the mood to be stuck all night in the middle of drunk young adults but it was too late now, since her friends had already dragged her to the venue, the least she could do now was to enjoy herself as much as she possible could.

That of course until something went wrong, Y/N got separated from her friends during the last two songs and with the crazy crowd it was nearly impossible to find them again so she decided she was more than done for today. Her feet hurted from being stepped on and her head was killing her beside she smelled like a mixture of her own perfume and smoke.

As Y/N walked away from the crowd she could still hear them scream for the other band in line who was almost ready to enter the stage. Honestly she had absolutely no idea where she was going but it didn’t stopped her from trying to escape.

Y/N found a dark corridor, lighted up with blue lights where a few poster and guitars where hanged up on the walls so she followed it, in hopes it would lead her to the main exit, but when she was just passing by the middle something hit her head with such force that she fell backwards into the ground.

“What the fuck.” That was the first thing that came out of her annoyed mouth, both brows frown together as her head spinned.

“Oh my god, oh no oh shit.” Y/N heard a male voice speak, in panic, assuming it was the cause of her fall but she couldn’t bother in opening her eyes.

Once Y/N opened her eyes and saw the famous bassist Rudy Pankow in front of her, her the first reaction was to roll her eyes. He had changed into a black tshirt and his hair was wet all over the place, probably he showered after his show. Which made her think, was she roaming for that long? The night couldn’t get worse.

“Are you okay?” He asked, kneeling in front of her. Y/N was supporting her body in her forearms. When she opened her mouth to speak Rudy panicked again and placed his hand over her mouth, in fear she would scream and bring attention to him. “Please don’t scream!” He begged in a yell whisper.

“Get your disgusting hands off my face, I’m not going to scream you conceited ass.” Y/N chided pushing him off of her.

“Feisty one I see.” Rudy looked at her, up and down but before he could say anything loud screams interrupted him.

Out of other option the bassist grabbed Y/N’s hands pulling her back on her feet as he entered a room, that a few seconds later Y/N recognized as the males bathroom. She was more than done with the situation, rage was visible on her pupils as the screams pierced her ears.

“Ugh, fuck me.” Y/N whispered to herself, banging her head in the wall. At least it didn’t smelled like piss.

“Let me at least buy you dinner first.” Rudy joked and Y/N glared at him.

“This isn’t funny.” The girl sighed very frustrated. “And can you please give me room to breath?” She added while she pushed him away.

“Oh I’m so sorry miss, I think I forgot we are in a bathroom stall, next time I’ll find us a luxurious suite.” Rudy ironized.

“You aren’t funny and I don’t give a single fuck about your crazy fans so I’m leaving.” Snorted Y/N unlocking the door from the bathroom stall.

“You can’t leave. If anyone sees you leave and I follow I’m fucking dead with rumors and questions about “this mystery girl” He said with a loud frustrated groan. “Do you want to be that mystery girl?”

“I wanna go back to my normal life, so if you excuse me, I’m leaving.”

The moment Y/N tried to step outside the other door opened up and three blonde girls walked in like they were looking for something, or better, they looked like they were looking for water in the middle of the dessert and by dessert it reads the band members.

Rudy quickly pulled Y/N back into the stall with him before the other girls could find them, this time trapping her between his muscly arms back against the door, their luck was that the doors were long enough that from that outside no one could tell how many people where inside, because even if Y/N thought that the other girls looked dumb as hell they sure knew how to count until 4.

Y/N tried to speak but again Rudy placed his hand over her mouth tightly, making her stay silent until it was safe, but this time it was different. Their bodies were pressed so firmly against each other that Y/N could feel all of his muscles against her body and her breasts where pressed against his chest and her legs were trapped between his.

They both glared at each other, madly, Rudy just wanted her to stay quiet but every atom in her wanted to scream from the top of her lungs about how he thought he was the shit, sure Y/N couldn’t deny he was hot and that having his hand so close to her throat did made her wonder about other things but still he was an arrogant piece of shit and she was beyond mad and worried about her friends and how she would get home.

She tried to speak but everything came muffled due to his hand so she decided to bite his fingers, he immediately moaned in pain waving his hand trying to ease the stinging pain.

“You can’t stay quiet can’t you?” He whispered, done with her, in Y/N’s ear as he watched the skin of her neck shiver.

“Fuck you.” Y/N said looking straight at his eyes.

As they could hear the girls talk perfectly about the band Y/N made disgusted faces at their comments, especially the ones about Rudy, which made him boil he just didn’t understood why she didn’t like him. Everyone did.

“You know what they say about bass players right? Oh my god I just wish he did the same to me, fucking ruin me.” One of the girls said as they walked to the exist, Y/N cheeks automatically turned red as she tried to play it off by sticking her tongue out as if she was vomiting.

When the girls finally left Rudy pressed her even more to the bathroom stall door, he looked down at her, taking in her beautiful features.

“Can I go now?” Y/N questioned tapping her toe. Talking with him so close to her was difficult.

“Why don’t you like me?” He ignored her question.

“Oh for fucks sakes.” Y/N whined pushing him off, he sat in he toilet waiting for an answer. “Look it’s not like I hate you or something, your band is kinda good but I don’t know you so I can’t like you nor be obsessed over someone I don’t know!” Y/N explained to him like Rudy was a little child as she maneuver her hands in the her frenetically.

“So what you’re saying is if you knew me you would be crazy about me?” He teased her.

“In your dreams rockstar.” Y/N rolled her eyes trying to to laugh while she turned on her back to unlock the door but to her surprise it didn’t do anything. “Oh no.” She cried out in a whisper. “The door is locked.” Y/N stated looking at him. Rudy stood up quickly and in one small step his body was already closer to hers.

“Yes smartass, you just unlock it.” He said, without a doubt. “Or maybe not.” Rudy added after doing the same thing she did.

Great. Now she was stuck in a bathroom stall with a famous bassist, a very good looking one.

“Do something!” She order looking over her shoulder to see his face, realizing her back as pressed against his chest and their mouths were millimeters apart.

“I will just call someone.” He said, looking at her plump lips.

“Do it then idiot.” Y/N rolled her eyes trying to avoid the obvious tension as she pushed his chest.

Rudy quickly dialed some random number and after a couple seconds someone picked up.

“Yo man, I need your help. Where are you guys?” Rudy asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Y/N was fast to realize that by the looks on his face he didn’t had good news. Rudy looked at her and sat down again while he placed his phone back into his pocket.

“We are fucked. Drew said it would take them about an hour to come get us out.” He explained.

“What am I going to do in an hour? This is totally torture.” Y/N ramble.

“I hope you know a lot do girls would kill to be in your position.” He said, getting up with arms crossed around his chest.

“And what is exactly my position?” Y/N placed one hand over her hip as she spoke.

“Well, you are here, stuck with me. All alone. In this small bathroom stall. I can imagine a lot of scenarios in my head.” Rudy spoke slowly, taking his time with every words to take in all of her little reactions while he with just two steps got closer to her face.

“And what those scenarios include?” Y/N decided to play along, now not leaning into the door she almost closed the space between them.

“They include you and I and much less clothing.” He whispered in the shell of her ear.

“You know what, for someone who has so many girls dropping to their feet you are pretty stupid.” Y/N whispered back into his ear, laughing.

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heartofsnark · 3 years

Text

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Nine): Lazarus Rises

Notes: I’m on a roll with writing this. I’m honestly, a little nervous with sharing this chapter since i go more into Johnny’s backstory and like...my headcanon of it since CDPR gave us nothing. But hopefully it works. I also haven't written Johnny's voice in a while, so ahhhh.

Word Count: 12098

Chapter Warnings: Death, brief mentions of child abuse, drug use, alcohol, war, ableism, pov switches but not in the usual way.

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

Oblivion wraps around her like a blanket.

There is no existence.

No pain.

No world.

No V.

No Aidan.

Every anxious little thought, every guilt soaked burden; swept away with the reaper’s scythe. Years of running and death has finally caught her.

Then all at once it seems to let her go.

It's a flicker at first, neurons firing up again, rewriting and rebuilding themselves. No true sensation or senses; just existence. World still dark and lost to her, but not she is not lost to it, or some version of her isn’t.

Pain hits her before anything else, a crack in her skull, or where her skull should be. She has no sense of her body, only the vague notion she exists and is in pain. And when every sense returns, the world coming back….

It’s not her own.

There’s a fog around her, a fuzzy filter muting it all. Like trying to recall a memory from too long ago. And she sees and she hears, in a body that isn’t hers. She’s smaller, the world seeming to tower around her. A blazing sun burning overhead in the bright blue of the sky. Playing outside on a sweltering day with bruised knees and grass stains on cheap children’s jeans. A mothers voice calling for Robbie to come home for lunch. She catches a reflection in a puddle, there’s a blur to it, but the dirt smeared face of a dark haired boy looks back at her...at himself… for a moment.

The world shifts and with it comes a pain she can’t truly feel, a belt whipping through the air and welting a back that isn’t her own. Vision blocked by skinny arms marked with cigarette burns, hiding a face from the next lash. A boot gnashing into his side, the thick fog protecting V from the pain he feels. When he clambers to his feet, spitting blood she can’t taste, despite seeing vignettes through his eyes. He walks through a musty home, where the floorboards creak and threaten to break under his feet. A mirror showing a dark eyed boy with a split lip.

Then she’s watching the hands of this boy she doesn’t know, playing guitar. He plucks and strums at strings until they bite into his fingers, until he leaves them speckled with blood. And then he plays more. Gifted an acoustic, stole his first electric but forgot to klep the amp alongside it.

Playing in a musty crowded garage with a young boy with olive skin. Each playing away on instruments, the sounds and words all muffled to V. The pair play badly until they play great, she doesn’t hear, but she knows…

Tequila and cigarettes before he’s old enough to buy them. V can faintly feel the burn of the booze and the warmth of the smoke.

Stealing anything that can be tucked away in his pockets. Spray painting every wall he sees. Cherry bombs in mailboxes, picking a fight with anyone who sets him off and most people do. The faint burning of anger in his chest, she can feel it as if it’s her own. In and out of detention centers, a system that can put him away for petty theft, but never lift a hand to stop his father...

Military reps scouting out young, poor troubled boys, seeing nothing but canon fodder when they look at him.

Knocking on the door and that same olive-skinned, dark haired friend answering. She can hear the words but knows what’s being said without them. Both fog and clarity. ‘Robbie’ is enlisting, off to say his final goodbye to Kerry, a name she doesn’t know how she knows. He comes running down the street after him, before ‘Robbie’ can get too far away. Neither old enough, children. One made of lank and the other with baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. But the military knows boys can take bullets just as well as men. They need bodies, age irrelevant. Forged documents with Robert John Linder scratched across it. That name...

Blurs of training, a mop of dark hair shaved from his head. Separated from Kerry, stationed in different platoons, finding another friend who sticks by his side; both hardened by the military. Lank becoming muscle. Give optics, interface plugs, tech he doesn’t want, but they pry open his skin and put it in anyway. Anything to make him a better soldier.

Then they’re in combat, muffled gunfire. People brutalized; shot, blown apart and chrome shoved into whatever remains; treated cruelly both by the enemy and the corps that shipped them out there. The heat of Mexico and the smell of gunpowder. Enemy ambush, the faint ting of a grenade hitting the ground. Then Robert is on the ground, shoved there and the body of a friend draped over his own. A heavy boom, shrapnel tearing through his left arm and size, burns across the skin. But nothing compared to his friend… A grenade meant for him is taken by another, the pair rushed away to medical attention when the air clears.

He wakes up without a left arm and scars across his torso, pulling tight at his skin. His friend gone, remains thrown out and tags offered to Johnny, the man who died for him nothing but a number, canon fodder in the corp’s war. Not even a day passes before they’re shoving chrome onto what’s left of Robert’s shoulder, eager to give him another chance to die for them.

So, he runs, deserting and heading to a Night City that V has never seen. He climbs into a dirty motel bed and refuses to crawl back out, watching a ceiling fan turn until Kerry pulls him out. Older, more weathered, still young but neither of them quite the children they were before they saw the war.

And music becomes his life. Kerry and him scream their words into any microphone they can find. Blaring concerts, they sound as if they’re coming from three rooms over to the merc, but she can feel the energy through the memory. Long nights writing lyrics and melodies. A band forming around them, three more members coming into the fold. Grimy smoke filled clubs and a cramped pathetic excuse of a tour bus. Shows that turn into riots.

Cigarettes and tequila aren’t enough anymore. He pops pills like candy, snorts anything that will go up his nose, drinks everything but vodka, and fucks any pretty thing that looks his way.

A woman with freckles and blue mohawk kicks his ass when she catches him balls deep inside a groupie.

A blonde thrown into the back of a van.

An anger and rage burning like wildfire in his chest.

It all blurs and rushes; V never fully feeling what’s going on. All senses are fogged, seeing the snapshots of someone’s life through his own eyes. But she doesn’t feel linked, still distanced from it all. Barely able to think or decipher what she sees through the haze of it all. Just watching blips of a life not her own flickering by, with knowledge she shouldn’t have.

Its the feeling of graffiti covered steel pressing against hands that first pushes through the fog. Hands that feel like they’re hers, but aren’t. One inked flesh and the other chrome. V can feel the body move as if it’s her own, but she has no command of it, muscles flexing to open double doors. Surrounded by the halls of a grimy little club. She can smell smoke and sweat, she’d gag but she can’t seem too.

There’s music somewhere, muffled by distance but nothing else now.

Fog lifted, she's both connected enough to it to feel everything, but separate enough to question what the hell is going on? There’s a tangled mess of emotions in her...his…. Their head. Her own fear, anxiety, mingled with a burning rage pitting in his core.

There’s a girl leaning against the dirty wall of the club, watching V...or whoever she’s stuck inside of as they walk down the hell. A little smile playing on her lips. Thoughts flitter around V, in a voice that’s not her own. Chick’s cute enough, might of been worth a quick fuck, if he wasn’t rushin’ for time.

“Hey…”

V wants to ask her what’s going on, if the girl has any idea, what the girl sees when she looks at her. But her hands don’t move to sign and when she feels her mouth move, a different voice, different words, come out. The same rough voice that thought of fucking the girl in a dressing room.

“Hey.”

“You all right?”

No, none of this is alright. V screams inside a head not her own, but she can feel the pride rolling in his chest, a smirk on his face. There’s an anger mixed with it, he’s going to settle a score, leave a mark. Those thoughts and feelings rattling around.

“Never been better.”

“Sure don't look it…’

There’s a scoff in his throat, she’s got no idea what he’s got planned. He continues around the corner, a man at the end of the hall standing before a set of double doors. The letters above say its backstage. Green hued fluorescent lights only draw attention to the grime as his boots click over the floor. That smell of cigarettes and sweat still hangs heavy around her, she thinks it may be coming from him, the man she’s playing passenger in. Oh god, that smell is him, isn’t it…

What the hell is even happening? Dex killed her, didn’t he?

“I can't let you on!” The man yells out at him.

The fuck he can’t. His anger flares, a sliver left arm brought up, slammed into the guy's throat as he’s shoved into a wall, a gun held in chrome fingers. There’s a mirror against it and V can see the man she’s living life through now. And those foggy vignettes press at her, he’s much older now. Face angry and with a scruffy beard, dark hair grown to his shoulders.

His name was Robbie..? Robert.. ? Something, like that.

“Hey hey, we're chill,” the man begs ‘Robert’. He certainly looks too old to be a Robbie.

‘Robert’ lets the guy go with sneer, furious the guy would ever try to get in his way as he marches towards the doors. Abandoned music equipment and the music shoots in volume, a man blocking ‘Robert’ from getting up to a stage. Where four people play what sounds like older dad punk rock.

‘That smack, drag drunken roll

Chips are bashin' in my top

Ridin' high, my slots are shot

Metal burnin' beneath my skin

I'm chippin' in, chippin' in’

V would wince if she had control of her face, his face, does she even have a face anymore? The music is good, but painfully loud, something she could enjoy if only she could lower the volume. Phantom limbs she no longer has urge to turn the volume down on hearing aids that don’t exist.

“Heh… 'course you're high.” The bouncer in front of the stairs rolls his eyes at ‘Robert’ then steps aside.

‘Robert’ climbs up the short staircase, music painfully loud to V but exactly where he feels at him, bright lights down on him. A familiar face, Kerry from ‘Robert’s’ memories, is the one who sings.

Until he’s pushed out of the way, gun still in ‘Robert’s’ hand as he grabs the microphone. Looking out into a crowd of people who stare up at him, an entire club room of people cheering and yelling for him. Shirts with tha bright red demon symbol, Samurai across it. Adoring fans, hearing his words, people who know his message, heard it loud and clear. Common men and women beaten down by the corps that rule their lives, that tear them all down for the chance to make an eddie. And tonight he’ll show them all there’s a bite to his bark; he’ll make his mark, topple Arasaka and do what he should have done years ago.

“Tonight I'm…” he pauses, leaving that mark may be the death of him, he’s damn near sure it will be, “I'm here to say goodbye to all of you.

And he begins to play to the cheering crowd, a final show before he changes the world. V would cry out if she had the mouth to do it. Music shakes the venue, ‘Robert’ playing guitar and screaming lyrics into a mic, completely taking the show from Kerry. He channels his anger, his fury, into his music. Screams his rage into the mic. And it's a cacophony for the merc tucked in the back of his skull. She can feel her own stress and pain, but she also feels his energy, his love of this. Even through the anger, he knows that this is the place he belongs.

This is hell, she thinks as he sings. The idea that every hell is tailored to an individual, everyone has their own personal idea of torment. This is her’s. She died and now she’s doomed to live in the head of some foul smelling rocker who plays nothing but music her sort of ex liked. Surrounded by loud sounds, foul smells, and no control. This is hell, her own special little hell. And she’ll be stuck here forever, for being an atheist or bi or a whore or a murderer… one of those did it.

After an agonizing hour, the show closes down. More sweat is now clinging to her current vessel’s body and V mentally screams at him to take a shower, but no panicked thoughts seem to reach him. He’s completely unaware of her...presence… in his head. Sweat slick, ‘Robert’ puts away his axe and lights up a cigarette; smoke settles in his lungs, the cloying taste of tar sticking to his mouth. But there’s a relief in him, a tension leaving him, nicotine soothing him if only for a moment.

Two women are settled down on the steps of the stage, in clinging tacky clothes. Groupies there to claw their way into the pants of anyone who’ll have them, entire fucking lives dedicated to riding the dick of someone more important than them. Because playing fleshlight to a rockerboy is the closest they’ll ever get to making a difference in this world.

“You're wastin' your lives, followin' us around like dogs.”

If she had hands she’d hit him. The women scowl at him, obviously taken back at the rockerboy talking down to them, like he hadn’t been thinking of fucking a girl just before the show. Like his eyes didn’t look over the curve of their asses and cleavage. If one of them asked he’d be inside of them in a moment, just has to make them feel like shit first.

“What crawled up your ass?’

‘Robert’ sneers and rolls his eyes, walking past the stage. His fingers wrapping around the door handle, he was thinking about something he was going to do, toppling Arasaka. There’s a determination in his walk, a goal he’s marching off too, still hints of a soldier in his steadfast gait. The hell is he planning? How could some rockerboy take down a mega corp? There’s a faint but steady sound past the door, a whirring sound.

“Johnny, wait up!”

He turns, answering to the name she hasn’t heard until now and it’s Kerry running towards him; chasing after him like he did all those years ago, when he followed ‘Robbie’ right to war. She’s not sure if it’s her or ‘Johnny’ remembering it.

Kerry is older now than he was in the memories, though he looks younger than Johnny. A tall fluffy mullet of dark hair, a scraggly mustache, and a half finished sleeve of ink on his left arm. His hand wraps around Johnny’s wrist, pulling him the rocker closer.

“Don't do this,” Kerry warns, “You can still change your mind.”

“Get over here man,” Johnny pulls Kerry in closer, a hand cupped to his friend’s face,“Fuck this band. Not your crowd, not your noise, do your own thing.’

They’re close enough to see the scar above Kerry’s lip and the freckles that dot his neck. Johnny taps his finger against Kerry’s chest as he brings his hand from the shorter man’s face. Kerry’s always cared more for the music than the message, more about fame than impact, Samurai more Johnny’s baby then his. But fears kept Kerry from chasing that solo dream as much as he wants, dipping his toes but never taking the chance to fully dive in. Kerry always needed a good kick in the ass to get where he needs to be, might be the last one Johnny can ever give him.

“Bastard. Tsh… Gonna miss you something awful.”

There’s a softness in Kerry’s voice and smile, a fondness that only comes from lifelong friends. A soft warmth nestles in Johnny’s chest as well, for the first time she feels his lips pull into something she can almost call a smile.

“See ya in the next life, friend.”

With that Johnny puffs on his cigarette and turns, leaving out the door, the whirring growing louder. The source of it shown; a helicopter landed outside the club, blades spinning and whipping up dust. A woman stands nearby, a wild teal mohawk, someone Johnny knows, fuzzy memories of a tumultuous past.

“You're late,” she yells out over the sound of the chopper. Hands on her hips, eyes glaring at him. Always tries to play like she’s pissed, but never could resist him.

“Love it when you're mad. Gets my southern blood pumpin',” he teases with a grin and V can feel the reality of his words, a throb in his dick behind his leather pants. And she doesn’t like that, her discomfort at feeling what it’s like to have a dick oddly mingling with his lust.

“Get in. 'Fore I change my mind.”

Johnny makes his way to the helicopter, climbing inside, blades achingly loud. Two people already sit in the chopper. A man with chromed skin and fatigues, a woman fiddling with a computer. Her face is obscured by a helmet and visor, only black painted lips showing.

“Silverhand,” the man greets him.

Johnny...Silverhand…

“Hey, Shaitan,” he greets as gears start to turn in V’s head, a head she no longer has.

Johnny’s ex, Rogue, comes walking towards the helicopter as he turns back to the open doorway. Her name only known through Johnny’s thoughts skittering around her, but it sounds strangely familiar to V as well. Johnny extends a hand to help Rogue into the chopper, but she ignores him. Prideful bitch, he rolls his eyes.

“Get us in the air,” Rogue yells to the unseen pilot, shoving a headset into Johnny’s hands, “here, put this on, and it stays on, got it?”

Johnny pulls it on and the helicopter starts to take off, the world falling further and further below them. The sign at the top of the club comes into view; The Hammer, Johnny taking another drag on his cigarette as Kerry steps out the back door. Silverhand flicks the out onto the cement as his friend watches the chopper fly off.

As the helicopter flies through skyscrapers and towers, V struggles to take in where they are. Night City, but not. Towering buildings and screens blasting ads, par for the course in the city of broken dreams. But the ads are for products she hasn’t heard of or ones discontinued and no longer sold. The buildings look rougher, not quite the same slick clean look of the city she’s come to know.

A city consumed by corps, a vile cesspit with ads as far as the eye can see, each desperate to wring out one last eddie from the masses. The entire system designed to crush people too apathetic to do a damn thing about it. Exploited, violated, used for a profit, and thrown out the second the corps get what they wanted. And the people just take it. No longer questioning why there’s no more farms, only land stripped for profits and nomads forced to abandon their homes. No longer questioning why real food is a rarity, why the priciest drink on the market is filth free water. No longer questioning why someone like saburo is pushing a hundred and the average Night City citizen won’t see forty. Corruption and apathy, best friends united to create the city of broken dreams. He’d burn it all down if he could, but truthfully can’t imagine himself anywhere else…

So… he’ll burn it all down, die for it if he must, and something better can be built in it’s ashes.

A building in City Center holds a large holo-display showing the time and date; August 20, 2023… Fifty years in the past, the day Arasaka Tower was destroyed. And given his thoughts, she knows where Johnny is headed. That name, Johnny Silverhead, rattles through her. She’s heard it before, a few times. Half listened to conversations with Ava about music, where V would just nod and hope it earned her pity kiss. A name brought up by Jackie when discussing the tower being blown up, shots thrown back in… Rogue’s bar. The older woman with gray hair and the young adult with a wild teal mullet are one in the same.

V is in the foul smelling, cigarette smoking body of a rockerboy turned wannabe terrorist on his way to set off a nuke that will kill over a quarter million people.

“Piers're on fire. Pacifica's cut off, shut down. APCs on the streets of Watson,” Shaitan explains, stationed at the machine gun turret beside Johnny.

“Sons of bitches.”

“Skull-crackin' out there… that us?” A voice, the pilot maybe, asks over the headset.

“Johnny's idea. Weyland's drawing Arasaka's attention away from the tower.”

“Collateral damage part of the plan, too?”

“This isn't the cub scouts, Thompson, Chew it up, spit it out,” Rogue tells him, no hint of fear or remorse in her voice as the chopper starts to come around a tower.

A pillar of black metal with the Arasaka logo emblazoned at the top of it in silver. Levels of the tower get smaller towards the roof, from the distance there’s the bright red flash of holo warning signs forbidding entry. As they ascend higher and higher, the barrage of Arasaka soldiers and turrets atop the tower come into view.

“Target range acquired.”

“Make it rain,” Rogue commands and Shaitan begins shooting off the machine gun turret.

Gunfire rings through the air, Arasaka soldiers yelling out as they fire back, automated turrets beginning to fire at Shaitan. The chopper stays rotating, hovering but never still, to avoid being shot out of the air as the chromed sniper works to clear the roof. Blood painting across the metal as Shaitan blasts through them.

“Fuck!”

Enemy fire, Arasaka fire, blasts through, Pinging against chrome and metal, practically sparking. A lucky shot, or three, ripping through Shaitan’s shoulder and he screams in pain, falling onto his back. Rogue yelling out as she kneels down to check on him, Shaitan convulsing in pain.

“Taking over!”

Johnny takes over the machine gun, optics connecting with the turret sights. Arasaka soldiers flood the roof, nearly impossible to keep track of them; not even a moment passes before Johnny is firing off the gun. It's rapid and brutal, an onslaught as the reverberation of it shakes his body. But there is a hint of strategy beneath, taking out the automatic turrets first, blasting each one until they explode into shrapnel. Only when the final one is in sparks does he turn to the soldiers, Their sidearms can’t compare to the heavy fire. Blasted full of hole at rapid fire, blood and brains spraying.

A body of corpses and shrapnel left across the roof. He pulls away from the gun, unzipping a duffle bag. A white constructed mechanism, wire, switches, and a giant nuclear energy warning across it. He’s about to plant a nuke in Arasaka. Fucking stop it, you idiot, all you do is cause more harm than good. She tries to scream inside his head, but nothing comes of it. The helicopter lowers down closer to the tower roof.

“Murphy?” Rogue calls out.

“Found our access point. Get moving.”

“Johnny, remember the plan?” Rogue asks as Johnny zips the duffle bag and slings it over his shoulder.

“Get the payload on the elevator,” he jumps from the helicopter, “arm it, let gravity do its thing. Explosion rocks the foundation, tower crumbles - chaos, screaming, roll credits.”

He pulls out a gun, a heavy duty pistol, Malorian Arms 3516, Last True Friend etched in it.He spins it between his silver fingers, flourishing and completely unneeded. It’s smartlink tech, synching with his cybernetic arm. And she can feel a sort of dampening of his feelings and emotions, that rage burning in his chest starting to simmer down, a colder more calculated anger taking over.

Rogue and Murphy run ahead of him, across the roof, through the piles of bodies. Johnny follows behind them down a flight of stairs on the side of the building.

“Exit window's gonna be tight,” Rogue tells him, brandishing her own side arm as she comes to wait by a door.

“Jacking in,” Murphy connects a small computer into an interface, “Is grass green, do birds fly, do cats eat bats, do rats shit gnats?”

“Mainframe's not your playground, Murphy, c'mon. Evac announcement - broadcast it across all frequencies and let's get movin’.”

“Sheesh, who wrote this manifesto?”

“Really need me to answer that question?”

“Jesus, Johnny, you've gone of the deep end. And that's comin' from chairjock,” Murphy tells him, interface with a spider avatar drifting across the door, before it slides open.

Johnny rushes through and down a flight of stairs as Arasaka guards running to meet him. He shoots the first in the head, point blank, brains splattering. The gun is powerful, devastating, sending a reverberation through Johnny’s silver arm. Enough that bone would have broken in the recoil. The guard no longer recognizable.

The second guard stays further back, at the bottom of the second step. Johnny slams a trigger on the back of his gun, shooting flames out towards the guard. The man screams and staggers back, flesh burning as Johnny follows up with a shot through his chest.

A third one follow, stumbling over burning remains, when three shots go through his skull, Rogue taking him down. The two continue down the spiraling stairs, stepping through blood and ash. The meet another guard at the end, who fires off his hand gun rapid fire.

“Shred the whole fuckin' lot!”

The pair take cover behind the corner banister, Johnny reloading his gun with another twirl, before jumping back up. He shoots twice through the guards chest, watching the man fall in a bloody heap as they reach the end of the staircase.

They go through a doorway and two more guards greet them, gun’s trained on the two edgerunners.

“End him already! That’s an or-”

The guard's yell is cut off by a bullet ripping through his shoulder, a second through his chest. His underling going down a mere moment later, with a headshot from Rogue; room cleared. Blood soaking into silver and marble floors. Johnny’s eyes focusing on the elevator across the room.

“Murph?” Rogue calls out the netrunner’s name, her avatar showing on Johnny’s optics as she starts to hack the elevator.

“She sought it with thimbles, she sought it with care, pursued it with forks and hope…” Poem finished, the elevator doors open.

“Johnny payload.” Rogue yells out, but Johnny’s already across the room, making his way to the elevator. He brings the bag down off his shoulder, placing it down, crouching, and unzipping it.

“Bushido II - bomb's name was what?” He asks, in a slow sly voice, entertaining at least himself if no one else.

“Wrap it up, we gotta delta!”

“The ‘Demolitron’,” he sets the charges with a light hand, “we're good to blow.”

He stands up and leaves the elevator, no hurry, only determination in him as he walks back towards Rogue. Like this is just a regular Thursday night.

“'Saka elites incoming! Run for it!”

“Get the fuck out of there, Johnny,” Rogue yells as he steps away, “shoot the cables!”

He does just that, blasting through the elevator cables, the carriage with the bomb dropping down through the lower levels.

“Get the rotors spinning! We're on our way!” Rogue yells out to their pilot, but there’s something rattling around in Johnny’s chest. He’s got to save her. It’s his only chance.

“Not done yet still need to feed this to their subnet,” he waves a small handheld computer in the air. Rogue’s face twists and grimaces, infuriated.

“I fucking knew it!” she swings her hand through the air, fingers clenched like she could strangle him, “This was never about "corporate colonialism" - this was about your groupie output wasn't it?!”

“Nah, you wouldn’t understand, Rogue.”

“Givin' you four fuckin' minutes. Chopper's not gonna wait one sec longer.”

“Door lock breached. Arasaka sons-a-bitches incoming,”

“Love you, Spider,” he jokes as he pushes through double doors, the woodwork of a lobby greeting him a moment before an armed guard can.

“Whole world loves me.’

“Fuuuck!” He yells out, something between a frustration and excitement as he blasts a hole through a guard's chest.

Johnny reloads before stepping out further, quickly having to pull back into the doorway for cover through the marble passageway. Two guards coming from a corridor on the left, a third from the right. The tower is made of rectangular balconies wrapping around, corners and curves to hide around. He fires around the corner at the guard on the left, taking a leg before a second shot takes their hide.

A bullet whips past his head and he pulls back, guard coming to him, in front of the passageway. He slams his hand on the trigger, a plume of flames engulfing his enemy, before finishing them off with another shot. He rounds the corner and slams forwards into the third guard, knocking them off balance for a moment. Johnny swings his fist out, rings colliding against their jaw, they hit the ground. He fires a shot point blank into their head, continuing on his way.

A staircase in the left of the room, across from the stone garden in the midst of the balonied section. He rushes up two sets of stairs, reloading along the way. It brings him to the upper level of the stacked balconies, a guard directly across the gap on the other side. The first shot Johnny fires splits the banister in front of the guard, the second shot rips through them.

Three guards rush out from another room and Johnny pulls back, stepping down some steps, reloading. The movement forces the guards to come through the doorway, one at a time, letting him line up a shot that blasts through two at once, the third gagging as his friends' brains splatter and cling to his face. But he barely gets a moment to process before he’s dead too.

Johnny runs up the stairs, stomping over corpses, as he goes around the corner. There’s a doorway that leads down to what looks to be a board room. One more guard down with a quick clean headshot, brains now sprayed across a vase of flowers on the table. He walks over them around the corner and towards a paneled wall.

“Closing in on the access point,” he tells Murphy and the panel opens up, revealing a main frame.

“Slot in.”

Johnny pulls out a little computer, stickers across the top of it. He flips it open and plugs it into the terminal. A little interface coming across his optics, Uploading Virus: Liberator.

“Sweet ICE-breaker,” the runner speaks up again, “Foreign, right? Just, wonder if we know anyone who can switch the subnet protocol…”

“Hilarious. You gonna help or not?”

“Do spiders spin webs? It's time we caught some flies.”

“Thanks, Murph.”

“Now, just for good measure…”Murphy trails off for just a moment, “Holy cybercow, we’re on TV! Take a look.”

A large TV mounted on the wall pings on, tuned to a news cast. Johnny shifts to the side to watch it. Brief clips of chaos flashing by in snapshots as the anchor talks over them.

“And we turn now to Arasaka Tower, its evacuation ongoing after an unidentified terrorist organization released a manifesto threatening violence. The terrorists stating their desire to, quote-unquote, "topple a monument to corporate colonialism." Night City's mayor, Mbole Ebunike, has issued a statement declaring that he will bring the full force of the law to bear in response to any act of terrorism. Going now to our reporter on the scene at Arasaka Tower. Hopefully, he can shed some light on this situation as events unfold.”

People might finally wake up. There’s a swell of pride in Johnny’s chest, that this will finally send his message, finally change the world for the better. And V thinks of the rebuilt tower, now with remembrance monuments, but rebuilt and still standing proud fifty years later. The virus finishes uploading, Johnny unplugging his computer and tucking it back in his pocket.

Took too long, but better than never. Stay safe, Alt.

“All set. Now get outta there. They're movin' up! Hit the roof, quick!”

Johnny rushes through the board room and around the bends of the squared balcony, heading straight to the double doors on the other side. Just as he reaches it there’s a heavy blast, wood and metal shredding as Johnny is forced backwards.

Pain shoots through his back as it collides with the floor, looking up where the door was blown through. A man stands in the destroyed remains of it. A tall man in heavily armored Arasaka garb, wielding a heavy duty shotgun. Cybernetic arms, a black cyberware jawed, and adornments of metal across his forehead.

“Shit! That's Adam Smasher!”

Adam Smasher, the same borged out man protecting Yorinobu? He jumps down from the ledge, hitting the floor in front of Johnny with a heavy thud. He’s different than in 2077, more human, a healthy more flesh colored face behind the cyberware. Fuck, Johnny curses mentally and starts firing shots at Adam. The devastation of his Malorian doing nothing as they fire into Adam’s cybernetic arms, the top of the line chrome holding up under each fire.

“Johnny, run!”

He wants to fight, wants to teach Smasher a lesson the borged fucker won’t ever forget. Every fiber of his being screaming at him to stand and fight. But there’s a nuke on a timer, falling down to the depths of the tower. There’s a helicopter getting ready to fly off. And while he doesn’t mind dying today, expects he just might, Rogue and Spider are waiting on him. He doesn’t need the last thing he hears to be their nagging… or for Rogue to make the chopper wait on him. So, he swallows his pride, as foul as it tastes, and makes a run for it.

Johnny pistol whips and shoots an Arasaka soldier on his way out the door, reaching the stairs back out to the roof. The door shuts behind him before any more soldiers can come after him.

“Murphy!?”

“Door's sealed, but it won't hold for long. Run, Johnny. Like the wind.”

He can see Rogue ahead of him running up the stairs. She should have been back in the chopper by now, she waited on Johnny. Rogue will bitch him out and nag until she’s blue in the face, but she’d never leave him behind. Wrapped around his finger, no matter what he’s done. Johnny runs quickly up the stairs, to the roof, three steps behind Rogue as she jumps into the chopper, as it starts to lift off without him.

“Johnny! Move!”

He jumps, grabbing Rogue’s outstretched arm, fingers wrapping tight around her forearm. Rogue tries to pull him inside to safety, when his fingers begin to slip. Something fires in the background a whistling noise, as his hand catches in Rouge’s, fingers twisting tightly together as she pulls. A boom rings out, hitting against the chopper with a spark and a shake, he slips right from Rogue’s grip, world going out from under him as she plummets back down to the tower roof. His back hits the metal with a crash, head bouncing against the cement, pain shooting through his body. Pain blurs his vision as the helicopter spins overhead, watching as the pilot regains control and they’re forced to fly off without the ill-fated rockerboy.

Boots thunder against the floor around him, Smasher coming into view. Johnny’s silver arm shakes as he tries to reach for his gun, nerves on fire after the fall. Smasher throws down his heavy shot gun, kicking the gun away from Johnny’s fingers.

“Smasher.”

“Told ya, Johnny boy. Told you I'd end you someday,” Smasher all but snarls, a compartment in his cybernetic arm opening, Johnny’s staring down the barrel of the hidden weapon.

Johnny holds his arm out, only for it to be shot, chrome sparking as it’s blasted. Vision going out as he passes out. It only feels like a moment, a blink and the world returns.

The rattling of wheels against cement, strapped to a gurney. Bright and silver, a moon hangs high above the skyscrapers. Dirt and dust fly through the air, dancing around him like confetti. Faintly he hears sirens, hears screaming, hears cries. And when he shifts his head, to look further back, he can see the plumes of fire and smoke.

“Yes, he’s still alive,” the Arasaka doctor wheeling him says, spoken in Japanese, but understood by Johnny...and by extension the merc tucked in the corner of his mind. Everything hurts, no other memory so sharp, so clear. Able to feel every bruise and cut, like she’s truly him.

“Understood. We're en route,” the worker says above his head.

And Johnny falls back into darkness again, unable to keep conscious, the sound of explosions and chaos erupting around him as he passes out. It’s impossible to know how long, black void blanketing it all, time losing its meaning and grip on them.

It's a sharp slap across his face that wakes him back up, blood clinging to his lips. Blinking as he tries to take in his surroundings. He’s tied down to a chair, two guards standing before him. In a slick little room, a stretch of windows across the back wall, a bright mushroom cloud of destruction going off in the distance. Charge should have finished going off by now…

“Your associates - who are they? How did you acquire fissile material?” The guard questions him.

“Gonna give good cop over there a chance to say something? C'mooon…” Johnny sasses his interrogator, looking at the second quiet guard.

Then the guard sucker punches him, knuckles slamming into Johnny’s gut with a sharp crushing pain.

“Which terrorist organization do you belong to? How did you acquire fissile material?”

Another slap, backhanded and harsh against his face. His head forced to the side where he sees a man walking into the room; an older Japanese man, Saburo Arasaka. The corporate leader walks with his hands behind his back, a younger woman in all black following closely behind.

“Old man don’t look too impressed with your efforts,” Johnny taunts.

Saburo and the guards bow to each other, the old man speaking in Japanese, “leave us. I wish to look him in the eye.”

“Hot damn,” Johnny rolls his eyes, “done and gone.”

Saburo keeps his back turned to Johnny as the guards leave. The woman sets up a tech station by his chair. Her flingers click against a keyboard, looking at a screen before she finally speaks in a soft voice.

“My husband died in that tower.”

And Johnny’s stomach drops, pits with something akin to guilt. He can still see the burning clouds, the explosions in the distance through the window. Something went wrong, charges weren’t meant to be that strong. An evac announcement, charges just meant for the tower, a message. Not this. Casualties sure, everyone knew that was inevitable, but…

“But there are fates worse than death,” the woman tells him, fixing a metal wreath over his head. Wires connecting it back to her computer system.

“I… didn’t want him to die.”

“Why did you do this?” Saburo asks in his native tongue.

“To bring an end to the madness you wreak.”

“I have found that people lie, most often deceiving themselves. Not So the dead…”

Saburo finally turns to face Silverhand walking closer, stalking closer. And Johnny spits at him, blood and saliva now sticking to Saburo’s face, red staining the wrinkled skin. There’s barely a twitch to the old man’s face as he wipes the spittle and blood from his face. Disgusted but not stopped.

“Fuck you!” Johnny yells out for good measure, voice rough in his throat.

“The dead are so very, very loud,” Saburo scowls, “And yet, lying is not in their nature. It is so… humbling - to listen to the dead speak… Begin.”

The techie turns a switch and Johnny’s optics start to glitch, distort. Cyan fuzz piercing through the world as a UI screen appears. Soulkiller Primed: Commencing Engram Transfer. An crackle of electricity starts to course through him, a scream leaving him as his body convulses, Neurons cracking and frying as the world around his shakes, trembles, then finally cracks apart.

And V dies, not for the first time.

Darkness overtakes him, near oblivion. Only the vaguest notion of existence, suspended in time and reality. In a cold black choking void. Enough awareness, just enough, to know fear. Overwhelming fear, terror, trapped under the thumb of Arasaka. Never knowing when, if, there’s an escape. Never knowing what can, will, or has happened.

Time loses all meaning in digital purgatory.

And then sunlight starts to breach through. A haze over his vision, like watching sunlight through fogged glass. He can see the sunlight but he can’t feel it, maybe it’s an Arasaka trick. Trying to convince him he’s free, that he’ll ever see the sun again, just to rip it away before he can ever feel it’s warmth on his skin.

Then the view shifts, like someone turning their head, seeing the world through someone’s eyes. The sun beating down on a campsite, nomads, but their cuts and colors unlike any he’s seen. Not the Aldecaldos for sure, that much he knows. Might be some sort of experiment? Corps have never been above testing shit on people, nomads seen as less than human by most folks in the city, means they get away with it.

Someone calls the name Aidan, a mother calling for her child, the girl...he’s seeing the world through That feeling that knowledge seeping into him. A tent with an older woman and a young girl, a mirror in the tent catches a reflection, showing him Aidan. A young sunburnt nomad child with dark hair and gray eyes Nearly identical to the other child he’d just seen.

And in a blink, like a slide changing, the world changes again. Training sessions for the nomad kids. Taught to be strong. The kids made to fight each other, to spar, and losing meant going without food for the rest of the day if they were lucky. A beating if they were considered particularly pathetic. Some nights she won. Other nights watching other kids eat. The worst nights spent in a tent, mother rubbing salve on her injuries.

She’s taught how to load a gun, repair an engine, and kill without shaking before she’s seen her seventh birthday.

Members of the ‘family’ culled before everyone. Because they were sick. Because they were weak. Because they were a burden. They could drag the rest of the family down, The Herd must be culled so that they can stay strong. For the best of the family.

Gareth, an older man of the nomad family, gets sick. cancer running rampant in his body, treatment available but timely… expensive. He’d sneak toasted marshmallows to Aidan on nights she’d be made to go without anything….

He begs to die on his feet rather than his knees like most cullings.

His wish is denied.

Aidan’s father forces a dying man to his knees, pressing a captive bolt pistol to the back of his skull and killing him in front of the family. For their own good.

And one day, Aidan gets sick too. Johnny can’t feel it through her, through the snapshots, too disconnected. But he gets a rumbling of it through her. Body aching, head in agony, world constantly spinning enough to make her puke.

She tells no one. Refuses to be the next one culled, no doubt her father’s rules apply to her. Her sister, the same age and near a picture perfect copy, frets over her as they go to pick through a landfill. Instructed to spend evenings in search of anything useful to the family, to earn their keep. A ringing in her ears, world spinning as the noise builds and builds until silence strikes and she drops to the ground.

The world has gone silent. She wakes up in a med tent, but can hear nothing. A world of noises and chaos now silent.

And a stone faced father comes barging in, he’s saying something, but she doesn’t know what. Flinching in threadbare sheets, knowing the signs of his cold anger, but not what’s driving it, not how to fix it. Nails dig into her shoulder, dragged from the medical tent and out into the midst of the camp sigh. Vision blurred by tears. She yells out what’s happening, but can’t hear the words.

But she knows the press of the barrel against her head, the touch of the captive bolt pistol, how they cull the herd. She was weak, defective, broken. Nomad family gathered around, watching her cry and scream, unable to hear herself. Weak and pathetic before them all.

Then a pair of hands grab her, save her, pull her away and into a hug. Her mother holds her tight, crying, screaming, then kissing the top of her daughter’s head. Whispering words she knows won’t reach her. Aidan is saved, she doesn’t know what’s said. What spared her life. But she’s allowed to live on.

Her mother and sister learn ASL with her; the only two who never shun her, protecting her too much if anything. The implication clear whether in kindness or anger, she’s weak now. Defected. But her father expects her to work harder, to prove his mercy wasn’t a mistake. That this child earned her right to live.

She earns hearing aids years later[ and cries when she first puts them in; the world is too loud, too painful. Aidan keeps them low and continues using ASL.

A homeless teenage girl in a town they ransack; long dark hair and heavy makeup. Calls herself Avarice, they call her Ava. She tries to sign to Aidan and the young nomad girl is in love that easy, desperate for someone who cares enough to meet her even halfway. Despite it all, she begs Ava to join The Herd. Because maybe hell is more bearable when you’re in love.

She’s dragged to the med tent one night, told she needs a checkup, no rhyme or reason. Knowing better than to fight her father when he’s barking orders. They sedate her, clan doctor holding her down and forcing her into unconsciousness. She awakes with a scar across her lower stomach. Sterilized. So, she’ll never pass along defective genes.

The next snapshot doesn’t feel much longer after, older but not by much, a year maybe. When The Herd is swarmed by an rival nomad clan, one they’ve fucked over one time too many. Aidan trying to drive one of the cars to get her sister and mother away from the ambush. When a rival vehicle slams into them, a screech of tires, the gnash of metal. Eira and Aidan safe, but their mother is pinned between a caved-in door and the center console, bleeding where shrapnel pierces deep into her legs.

Trapped until Aidan’s father and a group from the family find them, The three women pulled from a crushed vehicle, the mother the only one gravely injured. Aidan follows as she’s dragged to an emergency medical set up.

Legs too damaged, it'd require a double amputation, prosthetics or cyberware. Easily doable. Nowhere near beyond saving if they’d act in time, take the time. But they never do, never truly will. Aidan begs for her mother’s life, like her mother did for her. For her father to have mercy just one more time.

And the bolt pistol is put in her hands. She’s told to do it. To cull her mother, to be strong, to put the family above the individual. A test of her strength.

She refuses, screams, and points the gun at him. And he mocks her tears, mocks the way her hands shake. He rips the pistol from her hands, she fights and pulls with him. But he’s over a foot taller, stronger, leaves her black and blue; crying on the ground with his boot on her back as he takes the gun and kills her mother.

And once her mother’s body is burned to ash, she runs.

Years of traveling, towns across NUSA, some faces are kinder than others. Eira and Ava sent to track her down, to kill the traitor.

Eventually she finds herself in Night City, but not the one Johnny knows. Newer, slicker, brighter. But the corruption and apathy remain, chrome even more common place than it was before. Folks more metal than flesh, every ripper doc with back alley tech.

She meets a friend, Jackie, Johnny knows his name despite never hearing it. A big ‘tino fucker covered in gaudy gold chains who helps her settle in. Taken into his home. Merc work, scummy nothing jobs, merc janitors at best. Jackie pulls her into a tight hug, the nomad unsure of what to do as his arms wrap around her, face pressed into his chest.

Then there’s a sharp pain, nerves and neurons firing off as everything is suddenly real. No haze or glass between him and her memories. Face tucked in against fabric, a chest, but there’s no warmth. No heartbeat. Arms wrapped tight around a body that’s cold and limp, one hurting like it’s been ripped open. They feel like his own, it feels like it’s his body.

He can feel the movement of muscles, the beat of the body’s heart. How the face is twisted up with tears running wet and hot down the cheeks. It feels like him, but it's not. Smaller, thinner.

No more ‘chicas’, ‘jainas’, or the odd ‘mija’. No more smiles that outshine the sun. No more nagging her to look on the bright side. No more bear hugs or hands the size of her head ruffling through her hair. No more Jackie….

Thoughts not his own swim around his head, the voice feminine. What the hell is Arasaka playing at? Playing someone else’s memories, trying to make him sit in the backseat of someone else's life? An experiment, they going to try to twist him, fuck with his head?

“Mr. Welles has passed. Where shall I take his remains?” An AI voice asks, in some tech cab with a bleached digital butler staring at her.

He’s got to find a way out, there’s got to be a way? But how do you leave someone’s head?

The body, her body, moves without his permission. Able to feel it like it’s his own and he can see just who’s corpse she was clinging to. Jackie… The same guy who took her in, now dead in the back of a cab. There’s a pit in her stomach, a tightness in her chest; he can feel her pain…

He’s both separate and intrinsically connected, his thoughts and feelings distinct enough, but her own still overwhelming.

”W-what?” She says...what was her name Aidan, Brayden, Hayden, some shit... Frat boy name on a nomad brat.

She stumbles over her words, sounds like she barely knows how to talk, might be the blubbering. Fuck if he knows or cares. Her grief, while he can feel it around him, surrounding him from where he sits in her head, is her own. He’s got bigger worries, bigger fish to fry. Former nomad, now a merc, but that doesn’t meant she can’t be with Arasaka. Corps hire mercs, use nomads as scapegoats, all sorts of shit. She could be in on whatever the fuck this is.

He’s just got to figure out what exactly the fuck this is, what Arasaka’s plan is. A way to get intel from him? Prodding at memories by seeing if someone else’s sparks something?

“The Excelsior package provides for the disposal of passenger remains free of charge. I merely require a destination.”

“I…he-he’d want to be with his family.”

“Mr. Welles' closest blood relative is Guadalupe Alejandra Welles, proprietress of the El Coyote Cojo bar. I will make sure to deliver him safely. Mr. DeShawn awaits you in room number two-oh-four. ”

Her hands are stained with blood, her forearm has a gash down it. He can see the traces of Mantis Blades, one ripped out. Something happened, flashes of dangling off an Arasaka branded hotel, holding her friend up. Red everywhere, fighting Arasaka guards. Doesn’t mean she didn’t work with them, how else would they somehow plant him in her head, in her memories.

She squeezes her friend’s shoulders and presses her forehead to his, feeling the cold of his corpse.

“See ya in the major leagues, Jack…”

She gets out of the back of the cab, she’s dressed like a corpo, he realizes when her eyesight catches her body. White blouse, stained red with blood, black slacks. Rain is pouring down on her, as she walks through a dirty alley. She doesn’t seem to notice Johnny’s existence, his presence in her head. Everything he thinks, tries to scream without a mouth, doesn’t earn him a response.

Then again, if she is with Arasaka, might be told to ignore him. He’d be pulling his hair out if he had a body, if he existed beyond some former tarmac rat’s mind. She walks through a door into a filthy excuse for a motel, the No-Tell. There's chatter around them and he catches the rambling of a tv, something about Saburo Arasaka. But she doesn’t stay to linger, doesn’t let him fully hear it. Something about the old fucker’s life.

But she’s at the door of a hotel room before he can hear much, bloodied knuckles knocking against the door.

“It's V,” She says, knocking again when there’s no answer. V? Since when is she V? Where the fuck did she get V from?

The door opens and a guy comes out, giant fucker around a foot or so taller than her, so was her newly departed friend. Which begs the question, how tall is she?

God, he’s stuck in the skull of some munchkin merc, isn’t he?

Everyone, everything is… bigger. A hand on her shoulder, nearly the size of her head stops her from stepping forward. And he hates it, someone putting hands on him, controlling him so easily, he tries to force her hands to punch the ugly fucker. But it doesn’t happen, hands clenched at her side. How the hell does she fight anyone like this anyway, she’s half the height of everyone she meets.

“He waiting.”

V, Aidan; whatever dumb fuck name she has is allowed into the motel room. A man inside, puffing away on a cigar, watching the news. He can feel her worry swelling inside of her as she clears her throat, the man doesn’t look Arasaka. But the little runt of a merc has to be attached to them somehow. He’s not one to give Arasaka too much credit, be none if he had his way, but they’re not dumb enough to put his engram in any klepto punk’s head.

Arasaka uploaded his engram, scorching him with Soukiller, he remembers that. Mikoshi is where they store them, digital souls tucked away, where they got the tech to play with the human mind. If she made it there, they had to have trusted her.

“WNS… N54… Even the pirate networks… You blowin' up everywhere! And the Jackster? He out in the car?”

“He’s...dead.” Having to say it, having to hear it from her own lips. Stuck in the whiny mind of an Arasaka asslicker, wonderful.

“Condolences friend and the relic?”

The relic? Arasaka’s ultimate project, what they needed Soulkiller before. There’s always been a constant murmur about it, Arasaka looking to commodify the human soul. Must have finally rolled it out after they fried him.

“Here,” she explains by tapping her chipslot, is that how he’s here?

“Hmm, I was afraid of that…”

“What?!”

But the relic, they advertised it like imaginary friends, or some shit. If he was on that, she’d be able to see and hear him right? Unless Arasaka fucked up…

“Saburo Arasaka,” the man, Dex, paces, “Dead…?! You got any notion of the shit you pulled me into?! You offed the fuckin' emperor! His majesty! Anyone with so much as a pinky toe dipped in this mess is as good as dead!”

Saburo’s dead, old sack of shit finally kicked it… and Johnny’s in the killer’s head. Memories, her’s, creep up. Ones he didn’t get in the brief glitches of memories before. Saburo’s body, dead limp and collapsed on a hotel floor. Ripping the dogtags from his bruised neck. Means Johnny won’t get the satisfaction of offing the bastard himself.

“I didn’t kill Saburo! I- I-”

She stumbles and trips over every word; can she act like she didn’t fuck up any of this? Like she has no role in Jackie and Bug’s deaths… He’d gag on her feelings if he could, a blubbering child, those memories may be a mystery to him right now. But he buys it, if he couldn’t manage to kill Saburo, he doubts some miserable little half pint could, chick can barely get a sentence out. Which means he very well may still be tripping around in the neurons of some shitty nomad turned bootlicker.

"No shit?l Tell that to the ‘Saka ninjas they send after you!”

“We...we got to leave Night City.”

“You don’t say.”

“Call Parker, we close the deal, collect our eddies, and go off the radar.”

“A’ight, settle down, Gotta be tactical about this. Parker, eddies, then we leave the city limits behind. But first… Your face… got blood all over it. Bathroom's there. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

She nods and makes her, their, way to the bathroom. Dex is going to trick her, pull some shit, Johnny can see it a mile away. Chick’s outnumbered, outstrength, if they think she’s a risk and Dex made it clear he does, he’ll drop her. But she doesn’t see it, walking into the bathroom and settling at the sink. The mirror lights up, showing her face, giving him the first good look at her since those foggy memories of childhood.

He sees traces of that kid; gray eyes and her face is soft. Young, delicate, but with a heavy layer of blood coating iit.

Her blood and Jackie’s.

He can taste the bile in her throat, as if his own, can feel the burn of it and the churn of her gut as she pukes into the sink. It's not the first time he’s ended up with the taste of someone elses puke in his mouth, though it’s her mouth, he supposes. She pushes her bleached blonde hair off her face as she retches, streaking blood through it.

If she would have refused the job.

If she had gotten them up the ladder.

If she had been stronger.

If she had been stealthier.

If she had gotten them through the lobby quicker.

If she could have convinced Delamain to get him to a doc.

If she knew better first aid.

He tries to shut it out, the knots in her guts, the ache in her chest. Her thoughts spinning around her head and what feels like his. Surrounded by the feelings of another, he can’t fucking live like this, there’s got to be a way out.

She washes the blood from her hands and face; Jackie wanted this for her, one of the only people who ever wanted anything good for her. If only for him, she owes it to him to finish this job.

Can she fucking hear him? He tries to mentally scream at her, he’s going to find a way out of this, if he has to claw his way out of her damn head! Slamming him in the head of some grieving merc, that Saburo’s idea of a sick final joke? Making him feel someone else’s pain meant to make him talk? Meant to give everything away? If hell exists, Saburo better be burning or Johnny will set the son of a bitch on fire himself.

Nothing works, nothing seems to draw her attention. Johnny thinking to a void as she leaves the bathroom.

She’s punched clean in the head as soon as she steps out the door, to the surprise of no one but her, the rattling of her skull and shock of pain hitting Johnny like it’s his own head. The merc is knocked to the floor and a boot kicks into her gut for good measure. Her head stomped on, beaten to the ground like all five feet of her is a truly dangerous threat.

“Can’t risk it, V,” Dex levels a pistol with her temple as she writhes on the ground, “‘Member our first convo?”

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Seems I've chosen the quiet life, after all. No blaze o' glory for me.”

And Dex pulls the trigger, a bang in the dirty motel room as he fires a shot into the merc’s head. Agony and terror, gagging on blood, darkness, cold, and fear… then nothing.

And Johnny dies, not for the first time.

Death relived, but through the eyes of another. The bullet hits. Soulkiller scorches. And the world around the two rewrites at the moment of their second deaths. Reconstructs and digitizes. A liminal space within the net. Structures like the squared mazes of balconies and stairs within Arasaka Tower of 2023.

But everything made up of digital matter, pixels of color collected loosely to form the shapes against a black backdrop. Nearly everything a shade of blue, but hints of red bleeding through.

Nothing moves or feels like reality, floatier, less certain. And it all moves, pixels twitching, it all shifts, all seems… alive.

That where V finds herself, dying again but through Johnny, an echo of the pain from his torture still seeming to stick to her. But when she looks down, it’s her, but not. Like the world around her she knows seems to be constructed of these pixels, data, a bright red hue to her But it all forms to be her. Her arms, her painted nails, her freckles, her scars. They move with her permission, no one else’s.

But what is happening?

The biochip, maybe? But it’s meant to show someone like an imaginary friend, not put you in their lives, then send you to the net. At least she thinks this is the net, remembering descriptions Bug had given her. And by all intents and purposes, she should be dead.

Data around her shakes, reverberates, brightens and stretches across the hall around her. There’s a thrum to it all, that she can hear, no physical limitation in the net… Then it stops only to reveal something new. A flash of bright red, standing out in a sea of blue data. It forms the shape of a person, composed of red data and negative space, their back to her as they lean forward on the banister.

V signs from instinct, but finds no translator, forcing her to speak, “Hey!”

She rushes towards the figure, they don’t answer her call, maybe they know what’s happening? But as she gets close, they push off the banister and turn. Their figure blurs as they move away from her, but she sees a closer glimpse.

It’s a man, not as tall as Jackie, but still over a foot taller than her. Shoulder length dark hair and what looks to be the outline of sunglasses on his digital form. Even in the strange form, she recognizes him. The man’s who’s death she just lived, moment after her own. Johnny Silverhand. He blips away as he turns.

The flash of red, his form, now further away, on the stairs of the lobby.

“Hey, sir!” she calls out again, trying to sound vaguely polite as she rushes towards the stairs, he has to know what’s going on. He stands from the stairs and blips away just as she reaches them.

She runs up that first set of steps seeing his form sitting on the second, “Johnny!”

And he’s gone as soon as she reaches him, like they’re playing some sort of game, does he not hear her? She knows damn well he’s not deaf, if she can hear in this place, he should be able to. She reaches the top of the stairs, reaching another balcony railing, him around the corner on the adjacent side of the square floor. His back is to the banister, hands on it. Paying her no mind.

“Robert!” She yells his full first name, remembering seeing it scrawled in chicken scratch across an enlistment form. But she turns the corner and he’s gone.

But when she turns her head she sees his back again, down a narrow passageway made of more negative space than blue data. She walks across the negative space, hands skimming the data that forms it’s walls, each step taking her closer to him. She heard three different names, unsure of which may earn her an answer.

“Robbie! Robert!”

Neither name spurs a reaction, he doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak. Only stands at the end of hall, shifting in pace, as she continues her way to him. And she stops when she’s within arm’s reach, he hasn’t blipped away, hasn’t ran off. Able to see fully now, the red data particles that form a bullet proof vest, the cyberware left arm. V reaches out and taps a finger against his shoulder.

“Johnny?”

He turns to face her and she doesn’t know if she should feel relieved, or terrified.

“And you? Who are you?”

Her answer catches in her throat, mouth half open when it hits. White hot blinding pain ripping through every nerve, head and world shattering as she screams. Like she’s been torn open, every part of her stripped raw and set on fire. Everything vanishes from her sight as she cries out.

V’s contact UI blips, blurry as data fills it, system reboot. Her senses return to her, slowly and steadily as systems reload. The arm her blade was ripped from burns, open nerves exposed to the air. Her head feels shattered, aching as if it’s been broken apart. There’s a stench of trash and filth around her. There’s a weight on top of her, heavy, firm, crushing down onto her lungs. The warmth and stick mess of blood clings to everything. Caked across her skull, down her neck, her arm.

The diagnostics flicker away, but her vision still struggles. A cyan fuzz clings around and distorts it all. Her depth of field is cut off, half her vision seemingly gone. Not aided by the fact that it’s dark, looking around she can see trash thrown atop her. a cold sheet of metal lays on top of her. Metal and plastic of discarded goods lay beneath and around her, jabbing uncomfortably into her flesh.

A landfill, if she were to wager a guess, Dex tossed her out like trash. How is she not dead? How hasn’t she bled out?

She doesn’t know the answer, but she knows if she doesn’t do something, she’ll die anyway. Favoring her left arm, the right still damaged, she pushes up on the sheet of metal. Muscles scream in protest, pain shooting through them as she forces herself to put her weight into it. And she rolls it off of her and she can breathe a little easier, move a little better. A bit more light allowed on her. But she still can’t see very well, like her right eye is closed.

Tempting fate, she presses her hand to it, sees nothing, when she closes her left. The world goes black. She touches the lid, feeling the blood that mats her eyelashes, she pries her eyelid open with her fingers. Nothing. Down a blade and an eye, she needs to move. Vik can fix those, he can fix this.

She shoves a TV off of her legs, twists up s to see the sky. Silver and orange light color the world, moonlight and fire, plumes of dark smoke coming from somewhere she’s in some sort of pit or ravine within the landfill, a wall of dirt and trash around her. An upward climb to save herself.

V forces her body to move even as it aches and screams in pain, forces her shredded arm to grip even as she can see the tendons twitching through the mangled remains of it. She forces blood soaked fingernails to dig into dirt and grip abandoned pizza boxes for traction, slips her aching feet in between wires and appliances for foot holds.

“Fuck!” she screams out loud, but can’t hear it, as she loses her traction and starts to slip. She extends her left blade, sinking it into the wall of muck and trash. Her right arm stings, throbs, begs to release a tool it no longer has.

She uses her blade to help pulls herself, dragging herself up and up with every sink of it into the muck. V’s thankful she’s lost her hearing aids in the process, hell maybe Dex stole them back to recoup some losses, but it means she can’t hear her own curses, her own groans of pain, her own rattling breaths with bruised lungs

And she reaches the surface. Rusted remains of god knows what surrounds her and a trashcan fire burns not far away, but she’s out of the pit. She pulls her feet under her and she tries to stand, body shaking, swaying, trembling with blood loss and pain.

But for a moment, she rises.

She stands, looking out across the landfill of trash, cyan fuzz still glitching around her, and for a moment...maybe she’s okay. Maybe she can walk out of this, find Vik, maybe she can be okay.

V collapses with the next step, body all at once going out from under her, mocking her hope. Mocking her moment of stupid fucking hope as her back meets the mud. It mingles with blood, collides with her gore, and sticks to her open wounds. She lays there in muck, just breathing, her lungs ache with the strength needed just to do that. Each one feels fainter than the last. Her eyes start to close, feel too heavy, her right one might very well already be shut… she wouldn’t know. A mangled mess of who she once was, now laying in filth, surrounded by trash.

Maybe she’ll not move again… maybe this is a fitting end. A childhood of scavenging landfills, thrown in a dumpster her first night in the city, and dying in a landfill; maybe the world has been trying to tell her something all along. She’d never have to face Mama Welles, Misty, or Vik; never have to tell them she failed Jackie. Maybe she’ll just let all go, never even have time to grieve, maybe it’s best to just let it all go…

“Wake the fuck up, Samurai. We got a city to burn.”

A rasp of a voice rings out and she gasps, opening her eyes. A man kneeled over her, one she knows well, but he’s no longer digitized and she’s not looking through his eyes. Silver fingers pull his aviators off of his face, dark brown eyes scrutinizing her. His form isn’t solid, glitches like old vhs footage.

But...

She heard him.

#cyberpunk 2077 #silverv #johnny silverhand #cp2077 #fem v #aidan v becker #aidan becker

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misfit-among-the-angels · 3 years

Text

Adventures in Prague

Word count:6105 Genre: Smut, but with like plot and romantic stuff. Pairing: Tobias Sammet x Reader Warnings: Smut Summary: Reader is a photographer for Avantasia and also Tobi's gf and the band has a concert and then a day off in Prague. And there are some adventures and fun stuff to be had.

You also can find this on Archive of our own.

A/N:I think that this fanfic is like my come back to writing fanfics lol. It took me like 3 months to write it and it's really different from the other ones I've written. This one was proofread by my friend ♥♥ P.S. I've never played Fifa so if it's incorrect I'm so sorry.

Another night, another concert. Usually it’s like that, but not this time. This time we’re anticipating an off day in the beautiful city of Prague. Just one more concert night.

I don’t dare whine even a tad bit to Tobi because I know that his job is harder and is more tiring than mine, but I can’t help showing how excited I am that we’ll have an off day exactly in this city.

My camera’s battery is fully charged and ready, lenses that I’ll need are unpacked, and I am ready for another three and a half hours of work. Tonight, Tobi seems to be in an extra good mood, probably because he loves performing in Czech Republic so much. I know that my job is to capture the best moments of the concert, but I can’t help smiling when Tobi or one of the other guys tells a joke. I mainly stay by the stage, but a few times I go to the backstage to rest a bit or to capture some moments from a different perspective. I don’t forget the fans either. I know, I’m mainly a band photographer, but capturing emotions of the fans is a good thing as well. Tobi seems to have upped his posing game for this show, or maybe it’s just me. I haven’t had more intimate moments with him for a while. Kissing or hugging doesn’t count. But enough whining. Every time Tobi spots me or comes to one side of the stage where I am and starts his silly poses, I can’t help but feel a bit hot. I smile as I take pictures. A few times he lets his tongue out for a picture, and I hear some fans screaming louder. Yes, fans do love that. Of course, I also take pictures of the other Avantasia guys. They pose less, but that’s okay for me. It makes my job more interesting.

Finally, the show is almost over. I go up on stage and take pictures of the band and the fans. Then my job for today is over, and I can go back to the hotel. Sometimes I hang around the backstage to take more pictures, but today I am done. All I want is a hot shower and bed. And Tobi of course, ehehe. I get to the hotel first. It’s a public secret between the band that I am with Tobi, so of course we share a room. I take all my clothes off except for my underwear, then turn on my laptop and let all my pictures be transferred to it. Then I jump in the shower.

Later, Tobi comes in and finds me all comfortable in bed with my laptop, quickly editing pictures. We smile at each other. I can see that he is tired. He surely gave his all tonight, and I’m not surprised that he goes for the shower straight away. After a good thirty minutes he comes out and flops beside me on the bed. I look at him and suddenly I get this strong craving. I think I know where it came from. I also know that he won't fall asleep right away, no matter how tired he is. Adrenaline from the show hasn't worn off just yet. So I put down my laptop and get closer to him. He finally opens his eyes and looks at me. “Want cuddles?”

“Always.” I giggle a bit. “But first, let me take care of you. Let me do something that will make you feel good.”

I see him wanting to protest and quickly put my finger on his lips. “I know, it's not what you think it is, and like I said, please, let me take care of you. You won't need to do anything. Just lie here, relax, and enjoy.”

He knows me, and he knows my sex drive, which can be high, and, sadly, when he is touring he is usually too tired to have some intimate time, even if we are in a hotel. Of course, his sex drive acts up too, but he can ignore it. I, on the other hand, really struggle with that, and sometimes I have to take care of it myself if I'm not fast asleep. It's kinda frustrating, but tour life is tour life - he warned me about this. Probably that's why the other guys leave their significant others at home. Of course, Tobi could have decided to choose someone else as a band photographer, but I guess his emotions got the better of him, and he chose me. And I was glad to be included into this happy family on the road. I don’t wait for his response, but I know that even though he is tired, he is also curious about what I'll do. I straddle him and start kissing his face. Nose, cheeks, forehead, and finally his lips. He giggles and smiles at the kisses. I let myself kiss him for some time. I always love kissing him, and lucky for me he loves kissing just as much. I break the kiss, then kiss down his jaw to his neck. I give his neck so many kisses until I am down to his shoulders. Then I move to his chest and keep slowly moving downwards. He sighs and makes some quiet noises. I feel his relaxed heartbeat and smile against his skin. I feel myself getting aroused even though I didn't do anything yet. I smell the shower gel, but also his natural scent comes through it, and it makes my head spin. So I have to remind myself that it's all about him. I move down to his stomach and feel his stomach muscles flex at my kisses. He has a towel around his hips, and I take it away and continue to kiss his body even lower. I kiss his thighs, then stop and just run my hands down his body. I look up, and from his face I can see that he is relaxed and content. I briefly wonder what he is thinking about. Probably me. I slightly smirk. I was soft, but now the urge to make him moan and come is taking over. I’m not taking my eyes off his face as I lightly run my fingers up and down his cock. I know he wasn’t expecting this, and his surprise is clear on his face. Without any pressure, I rub his tip with my thumb a bit. He makes a sound. I stroke him more, but after a few minutes I can’t help myself and lean down, taking his tip into my mouth and just sucking on it as my hand slowly strokes him.

“Oh, yesss!” he moans lightly and smiles. I keep my eyes on him, and his sexy reaction makes me smile internally as well. I swirl my tongue all around and listen to his sounds. This is one of the most effective ways to make him hard pretty quickly. And it seems it’s working magic. That’s the advantage I can take because I know that he hasn’t been sexually active for a few weeks. So he’ll be desperate to come, and oh, if it would be a different situation, I’d tease him long and hard. But now, I got him almost all hard already. His hips twitch a bit and I know it’s time for something he always loves so much. I take my hand away and slowly take him all in and as deep as I can.

“Ohhh, fuckkk..,” he moans louder and I feel goosebumps appearing on my skin. He looks so sexy like this – mouth a bit open, his head leaning back on the pillow. I moan too. When I’m sure I have him all the way I stop a bit, letting myself drool a bit too. I feel one of his hands tangling in my hair. Oh, this is perfect! I slowly move my head back up, creating this slow rhythm. Now he moans more often, though not as loud. I think he keeps in mind that we are in a hotel and the walls are thin. I close my eyes, not noticing him actually opening his eyes and looking at me. I hear him murmur something in German, probably some endearments or so. I smile internally at that. I moan a couple of times too, both to create some nice vibrations for him and, of course, because I enjoy this just as much as he is.

After some time, I move my head faster and now he tugs my hair more. I hollow my cheeks and hum a bit to give him the best experience and oh, that pays off wonderfully. “Oh, you are such a good girl,” he praises me and caresses my hair. I really can't help but moan. He knows how much I like being called that. I feel his hand that’s in my hair shiver a bit, and I can tell that he won't last long. I slow down again and every time I move my head up, I run my tongue over his tip and then slowly take him deep. I open my eyes to look at him, and he is biting his arm to not be so loud. But I can still hear noises and moans, and I wish I could hear them all normally. But of course we don't want any weird looks or complaints. One of these times when I take him deep, I feel his hand pushing down on me, then I hear him moan wordlessly and feel him coming down my throat. I swallow it all. After a few seconds, I feel his body and hand relax, and I slowly take him out. I look at him. He is breathing hard and has a happy smile on his face.

“That was amazing,” he says, sounding sleepy.

I smile. “I told ya. I just wanted to take care of you, and I'm glad you enjoyed it so much”. I kinda wonder if I should bring up that I'm hella aroused now. But seeing him so sleepy looking, I just can't bring that up. He needs to rest, and I can always get off on my own or just wait for tomorrow. I crawl up to him, give him a little peck on his lips, and get both of us under the covers. We cuddle up, and unsurprisingly Tobi falls asleep after about five minutes. I feel his relaxed body close to me and his arms around me, and I smile. The ache between my legs is almost unbearable, but soon I feel tired too. I force myself to calm down, and soon I follow him into the dream realm.

It's an off day, and we are definitely catching up on sleep, but just a bit. I had an alarm set from yesterday and it goes off at 10am. I wake up immediately to turn it off and yawn. I hear sleepy noises from Tobi and smile. I hate mornings, and even though we had a really nice and long sleep, I could still use some more hours of sleep. “Morning, lovebird.” I hear his sleepy voice in my ear and giggle. Then I turn around to see his totally cute face.

“Morrrrrrrning,” I intentionally roll my r's and giggle more. He hugs me close to him and kisses me. Looks like someone's in a good and loving mood. I wonder why… I kiss him back and run my hands on him. This really wakes me up and my body as well. Oh, how I wish I could have some intimacy now, but that impossible. In thirty minutes we’ll have breakfast, and then who knows what we'll think of. I feel his hand playing with my hair, and I smile between kisses. After we satisfy our kiss needs, I just smush my face into his chest and hug him more. He giggles and starts drawing patterns on my back with his fingers. I feel goosebumps on my skin and shiver a bit. By now he knows me and my body so well that he can tell what I crave and want. After a few minutes though he pokes my side which makes me twitch a bit.

“I know what you want, but we have breakfast to attend to, and we don’t wanna be late”.

I look up at him and pout, but he gives me a kiss on my cheek as a silent apology. I sigh and disentangle from him. As he is getting up, I can’t help myself and give his ass a slap. He giggles and shows me his tongue. I giggle too. We are happy because we love each other and because we can be silly. I stretch and then get up too.

On band off days I usually get an off day too. Sometimes I go and take some pictures of the other guys, and sometimes I just go explore by myself if Tobi feels too tired or wants to hang out with others. This time though I’m spending it with Tobi. After breakfast, we decide to have a walk. I promised to take him to a few cool places, and I also agreed that we won’t take too long because he wants to rest at the hotel and play some video games. I am more than okay with this because I love video games as well.

Of course, I’m bringing my camera with us. It’s such a good opportunity to take some pictures of the city. And of Tobi, too.

It’s a nice and warm spring day, and we find ourselves in the city centre.

“Can we keep away from the main streets and go somewhere with fewer people? I don’t really want to meet any fans, you know”.

“Oh, sure,” I smile to him. “I know this little nice pub that we have to visit, and then I want to take you to another really cool place”. I take my phone out to see where we actually are and how we can get to where I want us to be. We walk away from the centre, and Tobi seems happy and looks around when we turn onto a small unknown street. I point out interesting houses or pretty architecture. A few times we stop because I see something cool and want to take a picture, and then we stop some more because Tobi wants me to photograph him near this house or that one. It’s nice like this. A few times he insists on taking a selfie or two with me. We don’t really talk too much, but that’s okay because I'm taking in the vibe of the city. As for him, I think his coffee still hasn’t kicked in. I look at him and can't help but smile. My heart is full of joy and love and happiness. So I "secretly" take some pictures of him when he isn't looking my way. I want to freeze this moment so I can always look at these pictures and remember how I was feeling, and of course to show him how lovely he looks when he isn't posing for the picture.

My knowledge of the city and the ability to orient myself in it finally lets us arrive at the cute little pub. I stop and wait until he comes to me and says “well then, show me around. You know this place better than I do”.

I smile and lead him into the pub. Inside there isn't much room to sit. We greet the bartender, and then I lead Tobi out to this nice backyard where there are more tables to sit at. We choose one that's closest to us and sit down. “This place is also a hotel. I've stayed here once. It's a nice, quiet place”.

Tobi looks around. I see him opening his mouth to say something, but then the waitress comes to us and gives us a menu. We both love Czech beer, so we choose the same one, and as a snack we get ourselves some nachos. As we wait for our food and beer, we both get on our phones, not because we don't enjoy each other's company, but because it's the first time today we both get to check on things. Soon our beer arrives followed by the nachos, and we dig in.

“You know, after this tour is over, we need to come back here for vacation,” I’m taking the last pieces of nachos. “I understand that you might want to be at home and get some rest, but I’m sure a week spent here won’t hurt”.

Tobi takes a few sips of his beer. “I guess you are right. I like it here. I like the atmosphere and the feeling this city has”. I smile when he talks and drink my beer.

We talk more about things that we’re gonna do after the tour ends. I’ve been planning to move to live with him, so we talk about that as well. Talking about all things except our jobs is good.

We finish our beers and pay for everything. “Now where to? Our hotel?” Tobi asks.

“Nah, I wanna show you this amazing church and the park outside of it, and I just want to spend some time there with you.”

“Church you say, huh? Is this a hint about you wanting to marry me?” he grins.

I can’t help but giggle. “Well, maybe it is” — I show him my tongue — “but you know, you have to propose to me first.” As an answer he just wiggles his eyebrows. Being silly like this is the best.

After a good half hour we reach one of many bridges. As we are crossing it, I point to my right. “See, that’s the church I was talking about. It looks badass.”

He looks that way, and I can tell he likes what he sees. “It looks a bit sinister, but I like it!”

I smile and sneak my over hand to his and take it. At first, I can tell he is hesitant, but then he takes my hand too and oh, I’m sooo happy. He loves holding hands, but usually does it when we are in private or somewhere without many people, and on tour it’s just a no-no. But it seems he gave in this time, maybe because nobody is really paying attention to us. I love holding hands and this thing of his kinda makes me sad, but I understand him.

We cross the bridge and choose to walk on the quay. So peaceful, so nice. A few times I have to take my hand away because I want to take some pictures of the Vltava river. A few other times I ask him to sit down and take some great shots of him. Once I sit beside him, and after I take the pictures, I just can’t help myself and kiss him. He’s surprised but pleased. I don’t know why, but after that kiss I giggle and blush and feel more in love with him than ever.

Finally, we reach the hill and the church on top of it. I speak. “Ready? It’s not gonna be so hard because it’s not so hot”.

He gives me a nod, and we start climbing up. It’s a nice place, some sort of park, and as we’re going up the noises of the city slowly go away. We see some park benches, and I take a mental note to sit here when we’re going back.

We are at the top, looking at this beautiful church. I kinda wanna go inside as I’ve never been inside it, but then we hear some sounds from the inside and decide to just look around. I take some pictures and then point to the cemetery next to the church. “This cemetery is really pretty. C’mon, let’s look around”.

But Tobi shakes his head and says “maybe next time. If we can’t go inside that church, then let’s go back”. I pout a little but say nothing and follow him downhill. As we are halfway, I spot a bench and run to it and sit. “Come here! It’s a nice place to chill!”

I really picked a good spot because the city panorama is before our eyes as we sit. I place my head on his shoulder and say nothing, just enjoying this little moment. Tobi looks at me and smiles. We both look at the beautiful city before our eyes for some time, and then I take one of his hands and start playing with his fingers. Eventually he leans his head on mine.

“You know, I’m so glad to have you in my life, and I know I say this a lot to you, but really, you mean so much to me, and I can honestly imagine being with you for all of eternity…” I’m almost whispering, but I know he hears me perfectly. “I know that sometimes you struggle with voicing out your feelings, but you make me happy, and you always make me find more reasons to be in love with you even more. Even if it’s your stupid jokes or random noises or anything else.”

I pause for a bit because, damn, I’m feeling a bit emotional, but I know that he is smiling and he is listening, so I sigh and continue, “I know that maybe it’s a bit too early to talk about marriage, but let me just tell you that when we’ll be ready for that I’ll gladly say yes to you.” This is actually important because he knows that I don’t really like marriage, but if I’m saying this it means that he and me together is a big thing. He moves, and now we are looking at each other. I can see in his eyes that he is looking for the right words to voice out things he wants to say, but his eyes also tell me a lot.

He takes my hands in his. “I’m so happy to be reassured that this, us, is serious, and I’m also happy that somehow I changed your views on marriage. You make me happy, and I love you with my whole heart.” Then he leans in, and we kiss. And we kiss for a long time until we are both out of breath, and still our lips search out the way to kiss each other again. Moments like these are always my favourite. It doesn’t need words. We both feel the same, and we make it feel either through kissing or when we make love. It’s something I only discovered when I met him. Magical stuff. We kiss again, but it’s a shorter kiss this time. As we break away, we giggle as we both feel the same. We go back to the hotel holding hands all the way. I think this was the first time Tobi didn’t care if anyone might see.

Back in our hotel room, I change into more comfortable clothes while Tobi sets up the game. Of course it’s Fifa, his favourite game. I sit on the bed near him and take my controller.

He picks the team first and of course he picks Bayern. I poke him. “Hey, ladies first, you know.”

He looks at me with a grin. “Oops, I forgot that. But hey, it’s your turn now.”

I show him my tongue and pick Manchester United. I’m not as good at this game as he is, but I’ve beaten him a few times before, and now I’ll do the same.

“I’m tempted to let you win this time and you know why.”

“That would be soooo boring, but I’m sure I’ll beat you anyway.” I put on a confident look on my face. Tobi giggles, and the game starts, and his focus and mine are on it.

I’m not particularly competitive at the moment, but Tobi seems to be really into it even though it’s not even five minutes past when we started. He swears in German when the character he is playing fails to get the ball, and I can’t help but giggle. My focus shifts onto him, and I just admire how cute he looks when he is so into the game. I’m not even noticing that I’m basically just looking at him, so when he suddenly shouts “YES!” I jump a bit and look at the screen. He got the first goal.

Tobi looks at me. “Why didn’t you try to stop me? You could’ve tried at least.”

“Sorry, I got distracted a bit.”

“Distracted? By what? OH!” he looks at me again but with a grin now. “You got distracted by me, didn’t you?”

I roll my eyes a bit and blush but don’t say anything. The game progresses, and I get my first goal too. Bit by bit, my focus on the game is back. Soon I’m into the game just like Tobi is.

Three minutes left of this match, and we are both shouting at our characters, aaaaand “YESSSS!” I shout as my team gets another goal and wins the match.

I put down the controller and poke him. “Told ya that I’ll win.”

Tobi pouts for a second, but then he puts his controller down as well and launches at me and tackles me down on the bed. I wasn’t ready for this, so I only made a surprised sound as I found myself being down on the bed with him on top of me. He giggles and grins. “I might not be able to win that game this time, but I know another game which I’ll definitely win!”

I have no time to think what he has in mind because he starts to tickle me, going right for my weakest place, which is my sides. I laugh and squirm and wiggle. Trying my best to get out of it but failing. I grab one of his hands and try to take it away, but he is of course stronger than me. He takes my hand instead and pins it to the bed. I whine and squirm more. We look at each other as we know that we both have one free arm. I’m quicker and pull him into a kiss. Tobi is surprised maybe for a second, but then he relaxes and releases my hand as he kisses me back. I hug him immediately. This kiss is different from the last one though. This one is more passionate and communicates my need without me having to use words. But it seems he isn’t getting the hint because his hands just go to my hair. Usually when he understands what I want, he does something, like his hands starting to wander. I break the kiss, and I roll us to the side so now I’m on top of him. I know I wouldn’t be able to do this in any other situation, but now he is all relaxed and so easy to move. He looks at me with surprise and opens his mouth to say something, but I lean down and kiss him again. He immediately hugs me and just lets me do what I want. Soon, I break this kiss to kiss down his jaw and his neck. I ABSOLUTELY love giving his neck attention, and he loves it just as much. I kiss his neck all slowly and hear him sigh and make quiet noises. I smile against him. But how can I leave his neck without some marks? His neck looks wonderful with my marks. So I bite his neck in a few places, making sure to make pretty marks. He moans at the biting. His moans are such a big turn on that I can’t help but whine as I feel myself getting more and more aroused.

“I need you so much right now, my love,” I manage to say between all my whining and biting.

His response is his hands, moving them to the hem of my shirt. I get what he wants to do, so I straighten up and let him take it. My bra goes next. Then both his hands go to my breasts, massaging them and pinching the nipples. My whole body shivers and I can’t help but make noises. I try to grind but realize that we both still have our pants on, and I whine. He gets why I’m whining and fiddles with my pants’ buttons, and then his hands are back on my breasts. I smile at him and run my hands under his shirt, slightly scratching him when he pinches my nipples. But he gets the hint, and soon his hands leave my body to take off his shirt. I roll off of him and wrestle off my pants but leave my panties on. Then it’s time for his pants to go, and I help him with that. Finally, I straddle him once again. I am so turned on that I can’t help but shiver. I start grinding on him, and we both moan at the same time. I lean over to kiss him as I move my hands to his hair. I feel his hands moving to my ass and squeezing it and pushing it down on him. We go on like this for a bit, exchanging kisses and little moans and breaths.

“Fuck, I really need you inside me,” I whisper against his lips. I feel him shiver at my words.

“Yes, yes! I want it too.” His voice changes when he is aroused. It gets sexier. I smile and straighten up and move a bit lower and slide his underwear lower too. He takes his cock and holds it for me. I pull my panties to the side and sink down on him. We both moan loudly at this. We both needed it so much. When he is all the way in, I keep still for a minute enjoying how perfect he feels. He is doing the same.

“You are so beautiful, so hot when you are like this,” I hear Tobi say and then feel his hands on my hips, moving to my belly and then back up until he cups my breasts again. I smile so big. I’d blush, but my cheeks are already red.

I finally open my eyes and look at him with a smile. “You look hot and pretty like this too.” I find his hands and hold them as I start to move up and down. His hips thrust too, helping me. I look him in the eyes as we both create this slow pace. I moan a few times feeling how I’m falling into this realm where only this pleasure and the look in his eyes exist. He makes noises and moans too, and they are oh so delicious. Eventually we let go of each other’s hands, and mine rests on his chest, both as support and because I like feeling his skin and heartbeat. He moves his hands all over me, not really resting them anywhere for too long, and I love that. I move a tad bit faster and my head falls back a bit as I breathe out a moan.

“I wanna make you come so bad!” he says as one of his hands is already moving downwards.

“Oh, yes! Please…” I look at him, but then moan when his fingers touch my clit and start to slowly rub it. I close my eyes again. I’m noisier now, and with his fingers rubbing at me I can feel it coming faster.

“Oh, Tobi…” That’s all I manage as I feel it coming. He still keeps rubbing slowly, and I’m moving at the same pace too. The orgasm starts washing over me, and I arch my back and don’t hold back any moans or noises that escape my mouth. I stop moving too and just shiver. I slowly start to relax, and my hips twitch, and he finally stops rubbing me. I make quieter noises now and slowly open my eyes. I’m realizing that my nails dig a bit into his chest, so he’ll have some nail marks too. Finally, my eyes make the way up to his face, and I’m greeted with a smile.

“You were so beautiful. And so hot that you almost made me come too!” Our eyes meet, and we both know that this isn’t the end.

I smile and lean down and kiss him. The kiss communicates all the words I wanted to say. After a bit, he slowly moves his hips in small thrusts. I’m still sensitive and break the kiss to moan lightly, and I just rest my forehead on his. I feel his hands going up and down my back and sometimes squeezing my ass. He moans a lot more now, and I feel that he wants to go faster, but he is being gentle for me.

“I love you so much, Tobi,” I whisper and caress his hair.

He smiles big, and I feel his hands going around me in a hug. “Love you so much too. You feel so perfect. I missed this feeling…”

I kiss his lips briefly again and then settle for his neck. His hips snap faster and harder now, making me bite him and making him moan more.

“I am ready when you are ready”, I whisper in his ear and also buck my hips to match his thrusts. That makes him throw his head back more on the pillows.

“I’m close, my love”, he manages to say between all his noises and breathing. I raise my head to his, then bring my hand down between our bodies and start rubbing my clit again. Soon we are both moaning out each other’s names. I feel him squeezing me tight and coming in me which just makes me shiver more. Everything starts to wind down, and we both go limp. My head is in the crook of his neck, and his hands are loose but still around me. I don’t even care that I still have an arm in between us, and it’s not really comfortable. We both breathe heavily, and when he shivers feeling the afterglow, I shiver too.

I don’t know how long we stayed like this, but both of our senses start to come back to us and we almost simultaneously start giggling.

Tobi tries to speak first in between giggles. “I wonder if we’ll get away with how loud we were…” I bring my other arm back and then finally raise my head.

“Ah, who cares about that. This was AMAZING, and that’s all that matters.” I give him a giggly kiss.

After some more time, we finally disentangle. I still refuse to leave the bed so Tobi gets up first. I'm all satisfied and happy and even more happy seeing him strut around all naked. Finally he gets back from the bathroom.

"How and when did you manage to mark me up like this? Now I'll have to wear my scarfs even more," he pouts playfully.

I giggle before I can respond. "I'm not gonna be sorry for this. Your neck looks even prettier with all the marks. And besides, you wear your scarfs almost always anyway."

He only shows me his tongue, but doesn't say anything more. He knows I'm right, and secretly he likes that now his scarfs will hide a little secret of ours.

I use the bathroom too. We get dressed up and go to dinner with the other Avantasia guys. No one really questions why Tobi wears his scarf and no one says anything about what happened earlier. Either they don't know, or they know but don't say anything.

After the dinner, I leave Tobi hanging out with the guys, and I go back to the room as I feel really tired. This is the last day in Prague, so I pack my luggage. Before I go to bed, I look through the window at the lights of the city and daydream a bit. Suddenly I feel very familiar arms going around me, and I smile. Tobi's here. He hugs me from behind, and we stand like this for some time.

Back in bed and just before I fall asleep, I think about all that happened, and my heart once again fills up with love and joy. Then I cuddle up with him even more and fall asleep. Tomorrow we'll go back to Germany. The tour continues, but we both will remember Prague for a bit longer this time.

#fanfiction #smut fanfiction #fanfic #Tobias Sammet #Avantasia #smut fanfic #smutty smut #Tobiuas Sammet fanfiction #mine

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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years

Text

Part 11 | Fringe & Change | 7.2k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Masterlist

a/n: 6 weeks later & we’re finally back !!!! thank you all for your patience & thanks to gwen for listening to me complain about writers block week after week. I’m very excited to get back to sharing this story with y’all.

as always, reblogging helps a ton & comments & feedback are ALWAYS WELCOME !!!!

Warnings: brief mentions of anxiety & panic attacks

Here’s part 11 !

Aurora’s standing next to Harry, a drink in her hand when Niall launches into “Drag Me Down.” She flashes Harry the biggest grin before singing along, just as she has with every song. Harry smiles back at her, she doesn’t see it but he doesn’t care. He finds himself singing along to a song he used to sing night after night on stage. It’s strange to watch Niall sing his own version and Harry figures Niall felt the same when he sang his own arrangement of their old tunes back in Dublin. Harry looks back to Aurora. She can feel his eyes on her but waits for the song to end before turning to him.

Her fingers are delicate and barely touch Harry’s neck as she reaches up to him. Her lips brush against his ear before she speaks. “I miss your bit at the end,” Aurora shares and Harry chuckles lowly. She doesn’t pull away though and Harry takes the opportunity to pull her into him with an arm around her waist. His fingers find where the hem of Aurora’s shirt meets the top of her jeans. As Aurora presses her lips to the warm skin of Harry’s neck she can feel his calloused fingertips press into her skin.

“Havin’ fun, love?” Harry assures. Aurora doesn’t have to verbally respond because the smile on her face after pressing another lingering kiss to the base of his neck says it all.

Aurora feels warm and it’s not just because of the hot humid air of Buenos Aires. It’s the heat that's radiating from where Harry’s hand is pressed against her skin. The heat that flushes the tops of her cheeks from the cheap alcohol. The heat in her jaw because she hasn't stopped smiling for the better part of 2 hours. She gets to see Harry perform live almost daily, she gets that concert feeling every night, but to share it with him is something different. To share this experience in the traditional way for the first time is another one of those moments she’ll look back on forever.

Many things are similar to the aftermath of Harry’s shows - showing their passes to the security guard at the gate near the stage, the ringing in Aurora’s ears from the screams, the scratchy feeling in her throat from singing (badly, at that), the buzzing feeling that lingers in her body from the music. The difference is the feeling of Harry’s hand in hers as they slide backstage to find Niall.

Aurora also notices the striking difference between Niall’s backstage post show and Harry’s. Niall and Harry may have done this together years ago, running off stage together and onto a crammed tour bus but they’ve both found their own way on their own. It's a different kind of loud and chaotic after Niall’s show. Niall’s band is following him to a large green room that is equally as rowdy as a group of guys headed into a party. They’re high off the show and honestly so are Aurora and Harry.

“So how’d ya enjoy the show?” Niall asks, his Irish accent thick, before taking a chug of water.

“Rory enjoyed it the most I think. Belted out every single word,” Harry answers as he tucks Aurora into his side. Aurora crosses her arms in front of her in lieu of wrapping one around his waist.

Niall’s dropped to the couch, his chest still heaving from the performance.

“Hey,” Aurora whines as Harry and Niall laugh together. “You didn’t miss too many lyrics yourself, Har,” she playfully bites back.

“Know all the words to my album, Haz? That’s what I like to hear.”

“Don’t trust a thing she says,” Harry jokes before kissing the top of Aurora’s head. Niall’s laughter echoes off the walls.

“Hey, I’d be a bit nicer to Aurora. I like her quite a bit. Don’t want you to chase her away so soon,” Niall advises with a wink to Harry.

“Unfortunately, I think it’d take a lot more than that to chase me away,” Aurora tells Niall. “Anyways, who else is gonna get him dressed?” Niall’s laughing again and his band joins in, Aurora as well. Harry rolls his eyes trying to subside his own laugh but eventually joins in.

Aurora relaxes into one of the leather covered chairs and Harry sits on the wide arm rest when Niall asks them if they want to stay for a bit and have beer or 2. Aurora leans forward to rest her elbows on Harry’s knees, her chest falling against his thigh. Harry presses the cold bottle of beer to the back of Aurora’s bare neck making her jump from the sudden change in temperature. He switches the bottle to the opposite and lightly digs his fingers into the muscles in Aurora's shoulders. Bending down he kisses her temple before whispering, “We can go whenever you want,” softly, reassuringly.

Aurora’s extent of her anxiety had been brought up in conversation a few nights ago, Harry wanting to be able to help or at least do what he can to subside it if possible. Nobody had ever asked her how they could help or understood enough to want to know more. Her parents tried to understand, they really did, but something to do with the generational gap made it hard for them to really get it, to believe it even. So when Harry asked about it out of nowhere Aurora was shocked.

She explained what it's like in different ways and how it comes about. The social anxiety aspect of new people and new places is what triggered Harry’s question just now. She told him about how she’ll feel trapped like she can’t go anywhere and she doesn’t want to create a scene, doesn’t want to offend anyone by leaving. She talked about the anxiety she had from the thought of a new hotel room and new arena every day before she left New York. But she was pleasantly surprised when it felt okay, that the faces became familiar and even though they were new arena’s daily, the pink flowers and TPWK signs became comforting. Harry’s heart swelled when Aurora shared the last bit. After she answered all his questions and told him about how she copes and what he can do that would make it easier, better even, Aurora thanked him. She thanked him over and over again when she crawled into his lap. She thanked him as she pulled off his shirt and kissed the swallow tattoos on his chest. She thanked him when she sank down on him. She shared everything that night, her mind, her body, all of it. She had never felt so understood, so safe.

Harry can tell Aurora’s in another world, squeezing her shoulder, he says her name softly. She looks up to him, a hint of worry in his eyes. She smiles, the memory of nights prior still floating in her head. The worry washes away when Aurora takes his hand that’s on her shoulder and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“I’m good right now,” she reassures him. “Thanks for asking.”

“What're you thinking ‘bout?”

“I’ll tell ya later.”

She does tell him later, after they’ve said their goodbyes to Niall, after the car ride back to the hotel, after they get into Harry’s hotel room. She tells him between kisses. She tells him how nobody has ever said “we can go whenever you want” in any way and meant it. She tells him how she was thinking about how she thanked him and how she couldn't stop thinking about it.

It doesn’t take them long to rid each other of their clothes. It was early morning by the time they fell asleep, their bodies sticky with sweat but too tired to shower now.

Morning comes too fast and Harry groans into the back of Aurora’s neck when the alarm goes off. He turns away from her, his arm sliding from her waist to call room service. Aurora only pays enough attention to make sure he orders plenty of coffee and then lets herself succumb to sleep again.

She wakes up only a little bit later when there’s a knock on the door. Harry’s curls hang heavy from his shower and Aurora can’t help but giggle as he tries to blow some of the curls from his forehead as he sets her coffee on the bedside table nearest her.

After Harry and her eat breakfast, Harry has to jump on a call and Aurora decides to shower back in her own hotel room where her suitcase still is. Considering they had spent most of the past 10 days together, the morning and afternoon apart is nice. She takes a nap and catches up on a few shows, somewhat of a normal day for her.

Aurora is excited to get back to the shows. To get back to seeing Harry on stage, to seeing Helene, to tour life again. It may have only been just over a week but she misses it. She gets it now, when Harry talks about touring being his favourite part. Aurora’s surprised how much she loves it.

| | | | |

Aurora’s in the middle of sending a text message when Harry comes from nowhere and pulls her along with a tight grip on her hand. Aurora’s eyebrows furrow as a giggle leaves her mouth after his name does. When she gets a good look at him she smiles. He’s preemptively put on his black St Laurent trousers for his show tonight in Santiago but instead of the green glittery shirt he’s meant to be wearing, he has a white Treat People With Kindness t-shirt tucked in.

“Come on, Angel,” he says with a smile as he walks them through the hall. The music and noise from the audience grows.

“Harry, where’re we going?” Aurora almost shouts so he can hear her over the ever growing music. He flashes her a smirk, a dimple showing up.

He nods his head at one of the security guards at a double door and they open a door for them. Aurora thanks the guard with a smile before getting pulled along behind Harry. He slows his pace so she can catch up with him. Once she’s standing by his side, his hand drops from hers and throws his arm around her shoulders. He leads Aurora the rest of the way to where a set of metal stairs lead to the stage. Aurora smiles up at Harry when they stop. He quickly kisses her cheek and his arm slides further over her shoulders, his hand hanging off casually. Harry hums along to ‘Shy’ as Leon Bridges performs on stage.

Though a moment like this isn’t deemed normal by most, it feels completely and utterly normal for Harry and Aurora. Both loving the time spent together at Niall’s show, they grasp onto that feeling - the feeling of music making them closer, reaching a new spot in their souls. He continues to hum and sing along throughout Leon’s set and Aurora finds herself closing her eyes, soothed by the live music and his low humming near her ear.

Harry moves to stand directly behind Aurora, his hands sliding up and down Aurora’s arms while kissing the back of her neck as “Bet Ain’t Worth the Hand” finishes. As the audience cheers for Leon, his hands pause at her shoulders before falling forward, hovering over the front of Aurora casually. He sneaks a kiss behind Aurora’s ear and she giggles at the soft touch, her hands reaching up to settle on his forearms. Aurora turns her head just enough to leave a light kiss at the hinge of Harry’s jaw as “River” begins.

She sighs, remembering the night in Harry's car in London, her body relaxing completely into his. She can still remember the sparkle in his eye, even in the dark of the car, and the small smile when Aurora mentioned loving this specific song and her excitement to hear it live.

There’s a warmth radiating off of Harry’s chest and spreading across Aurora’s back. She can feel the rattle of his chest from the vibrations of the speakers mixed with his quiet singing. His lips are centimeters from her ear. Every couple of words they brush against the shell of her ear, sending continuous shivers down Aurora’s spine. Aurora settles a kiss on his arm, on his bicep near his anatomical heart tattoo. Aurora lets her lips graze there for a moment, completely caught up in the music and the incredibly safe feeling she’s overwhelmed with being wrapped in Harry’s arms. The broadness of his shoulders and his height allows for him to completely envelope her when he crosses his arms over her chest, pulling her into his chest even more. Aurora continues to sink into his chest, melting into his t-shirt and feeling like there is no end to how far she can fall into him. Aurora can feel his slight scruff rub against her cheek every so often. The roughness mixed with the softness of his voice is a feeling that she can’t describe but it makes her heart beat a little faster.

Harry sways every so often, perfectly in time with the strum of the guitar and rattle of the tambourine. The song is nearing the end and the audience is singing along with Leon, the lyrics echo through the arena. Aurora lets her hands drop from his arms and twists around to face him. She wraps her arms around his neck as his wrap around her waist, hands clasping his opposite elbows to pull her in closer. Her hips are square on his, a place she finds herself more often than not. Careful not to ruin the curls Ayae has already set in place, Aurora barely weaves her fingers in the hair at his neck. Harry brushes his nose against hers before he looks her in the eyes. The vocals coming from stage are just as vulnerable as they feel right now. Not a single person in the crew that is bustling around backstage is relevant to them right now. Aurora and Harry feel as if they are the only people standing there in the dark, Leon singing to them and only them. They meet in the middle, Harry’s lips taking in Aurora’s bottom one first. The kiss is slow and deep. When Harry pulls away barely a millimeter it’s only to tilt his head to deepen the kiss.

A 4 minute song. A moment for just the 2 of them. A memory from weeks ago. Aurora wishes somehow that there was a way that she could have 2 Harry’s - one to perform his show on stage and one to love on as she enjoyed the show. Show him how much she loves him. How much she loves listening to him, watching him perform. She’ll have to think of more ways to show how much moments like these mean to her. Ways to show him how she wishes she could hold him as he sang has heart out. Show him how he really is that shining light.

And that’s when the opening lyrics of “River” hit Aurora. Lyrics she’s heard a million times.

“Been traveling these wide roads for so long

My heart's been far from you

Ten-thousand miles gone”

It may be a spiritually inspired song, but for Aurora, especially in this moment with Harry's lips on hers, it's all about them. Coming from miles away from each other, only to travel thousands and thousands of miles together. Hearts finally feeling safe again.

| | | | |

The stage set up is different for the South American leg. Without the rising screen, Harry walks on stage in full view as the opening of ‘Only Angel’ begins. The second he’s on the stage, the minimal lights that are shining on the stage catch the sparkle of the rhinestones that cover each strip of fringe. He faces Sarah’s drum kit, takes a swig of water then raises his arms out to the side showcasing the beautiful detail of his jacket - fringe hanging down from his arms and a row across his back. . Aurora can’t help but smile and the second he turns around as the music kicks off there’s a giant smile on Harry’s face as well.

Aurora’s standing off to the side of the pit, leaning against the wall of the tunnel that leads you in and out of the arena. She sinks her hands into the pockets of her pants as a sigh leaves her lips. Subconsciously, she sings along, song after song. She admires the way he almost saunters across the stage, how he effortlessly draps his hands on the mic stand, the way his hair, even when completely disheveled, is always just so, how he exudes confidence and inclusion, how his voice transports the entire audience to a new place.

During ‘Ever Since New York’ he has to stop singing a few times because he can’t avoid the smile that appears on his face. It makes it impossible to sing the lyrics and Aurora smiles too. She knows that smile. He’s explained it before, it’s like he can’t believe what he’s seeing in front of him, can’t believe it’s real.

Aurora’s heart feels heavy in her chest every time he slows down and sings ‘Meet Me In The Hallway’. The care and focus that goes into every note. The pained look on his face that she wants nothing more than to erase. The softness of his closed eyes contradict the tension in his jaw when the words “you left me in the hallway” come floating out of his mouth and echo through the arena.

He’s back on the main stage, guitar slung over his shoulder after running back from the Bstage. Laughter rumbles through the audience every so often during ‘Anna” as the fringe on his sleeve gets stuck on the pins at the bridge, then again on the strings. It doesn’t faze him though, he keeps going like it really didn’t happen. He does laugh at himself after the song ends, trying to talk with the audience but his habit of talking with his hands fires back at him. The fringe becomes somewhat of a spectacle after he has to yank it from the opening of the guitar when he eventually takes it off.

The fringe really adds to the chaos of Harry’s dancing during ‘What Makes You Beautiful.’ The rhinestones catch every light and just like many times before, he’s his own disco ball it seems. He tries to clip the mic back into its stand while he sings the chorus again, but the fringe flies and gets trapped before the mic fits in it’s home. He shakes his head as he messes with it and continues singing. The smile that’s become permanent on his face only grows bigger.

It’s during ‘The Chain’ and ‘Kiwi’ that she starts to see a few red strips of fabric fall to the floor. Aurora laughs for a bit as she watches Harry on stage but then it turns to a groan when she realises that she’ll have to fix the jacket for tomorrow.

“Guess fringe on your sleeves wasn’t the most functional thing,” Aurora says to Harry as she takes the jacket off his shoulders. “Looks like you shredded a few and ripped some off when they got stuck on your guitar strings,” she laughs.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes.

“No worries, I’ll just fix 'em tomorrow.” Aurora takes a closer look at the sleeves once it’s back on the hanger. “I could adjust it a bit if the fringey bits were annoying, just move them away from the cuff,” Aurora offers.

“Didn’t really notice ‘em until they got snagged, but even then it didn’t bother me.”

“Okay, let me know if you change your mind before I work on it tomorrow.” Harry hums.

“You did really great tonight, feel like I don’t say it enough,” Aurora compliments, a feeling of guilt at the bottom of her stomach. She takes the trousers from Harry, hanging them up besides the jacket. “You always do great,” she adds. Harry doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Aurora can see in the mirror off to the side, his dimple sinking in and a smirk coming across his face. “Didn’t realise how much I truly love watching you on stage until this past week.”

It wasn’t until Harry got back up on stage in Buenos Aires that Aurora realised how much she missed seeing him on stage. It wasn’t until then that she realised they’d be traveling back to the US and that they’re more than halfway through the tour. It’s not that she hadn’t been enjoying it. Aurora always gets this way when something is nearing the end. Like in the last semester of college and during the last few weeks of high school, she had gotten this weird feeling in her chest, something that almost resembled regret but she didn’t have too many regrets from high school or college. The same feeling appeared at the end of her internship with Harry Lambert, but there were absolutely no regrets then. She finally put it into words what this almost regretful, sad, deep feeling was. It was simply her not wanting change, not wanting to lose the familiarity of her current life. Why should things end when you’re enjoying them? Living in the moment, as cliche as it is, is what Aurora has to remind herself--remind herself to enjoy what’s happening right now rather than what will come later. So here she is, after watching him perform on stage, a range of emotions flowing through her, all interrupting what she’s trying to get out. How does she tell the rockstar in front of her that she loves him in every sense of the word. That she loves him on and off stage. How does she explain that she thinks she’s scared of what the end of the tour will bring. And at the end of the day, how does she, Aurora Marie Del Gatto from a small suburb in New York, get to love the rockstar that performs on stage every night to thousands of people and the man that is so inherently down to earth and loving?

Aurora takes his sweaty white button down from him and hangs that up as well and instead of bringing up what’s actually running through her head she says, “Should wear the black button down tomorrow, I’ll get the white one dry cleaned when we get to the US.”

She turns to Harry as he’s pulling down a black t-shirt over his stomach. He runs a hand through the mess of hair on his head, a soft smile on his relaxed face. The look he gives her organizes her brain in an instant it feels like.“I always knew I loved watching you on stage, but seeing you back up there-” she pauses and shakes her head. “Being with you is one thing,” she continues as she steps closer to him, a light touch of her hand along his jaw, “but seeing you up there… it’s something else.” Aurora’s other hand reaches for his face before she speaks again. “I’m- I’m- I don’t even know if I have the word to explain it properly.” A shake of her head like she’s rattling her unorganized thoughts around in her head. “Proud of you,” she says simply before she presses her lips to his. Harry’s arms wrap around Aurora’s waist tightly, simultaneously bringing her closer to him and opening his mouth up to kiss her more. It’s Aurora who pulls away first, both of their chest rising and falling more than before. Her hands move from his face, then scratch at his back before she’s properly hugging him. Aurora’s arms are heavy on his shoulders and she feels his jaw move slightly as she noses at the vein in his neck.

It could be 2 minutes or 2 hours later when Harry loosens his grip on Aurora, pulling away from her, his smile bright but tired. Harry hums as he kisses her temple.

“I’m gonna make the rounds, quick,” he says, his voice gravelly and tired.

“I promised Issac, I’d call him tonight.” Aurora’s mentioned Issac, her best friend from childhood, a few times to Harry. “He’s 2 hours behind us so it’s kind of a perfect time for him,” she explains. Besides her sister, Issac knows absolutely everything, maybe even more. He wasn’t the best with advice but he always listened. Issac and Aurora always joked about how they are pretty much the same person while they were growing up and even in adulthood not much has changed.

“Oh yeah,” he says, remembering Aurora mentioning it earlier. “I’m sorry, just tired.”

Aurora’s eyebrows furrow, “no need to be sorry.” She lifts a hand to his face, “get some rest, okay? and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she assures him.

“Ror, thanks for uh-” he doesn’t know how to thank her for what she said earlier. “Thanks for-”

“No need to thank me,” she cuts him off, shaking her head. She reaches up to kiss him one last time for the night. “I love you, Harry.”

“Love you too,” he whispers with a squeeze to her waist then a hand through her hair.

Aurora waves to everyone in the arena saying goodnight and see ya tomorrow’s to everyone see passes. It's pretty much perfect timing when her phone rings as she unlocks her hotel room door no more than 15 minutes later.

“Issac!” she greets him when his face shows up on her phone. His hair is hidden by one of the many national park hats he owns and his face is covered by his thick beard.

“Roo!” he says excitedly. When they first met when they were 5, ‘Aurora’ wasn’t the easy name to pronounce and Issac being Issac came up with his own nickname for her and ‘Roo’ was it.

“How are you?” she asks, setting the phone down on the bathroom counter.

“I’m great! My last trip was amazing. The dogs loved it and I got some really good photos.” Issac is a photographer for the National Park Service which means lots of camping trip and lots of traveling. “I’ll have to send you some photos tomorrow when I edit them.”

“Yes please! Where are the pups?”

Issac turns his facetime to the back camera. His 2 Australian shepards are passed out next to each other on the rug. “They’re always so tired when we get back,” Issac comments as he flips the camera back to him. Aurora aw’s as his dogs as she wipes the makeup off her face. “How was the show tonight?”

“Really good.”

“I know that look,” Issac comments. “Tell me more.”

Issac reads her better than anyone, Aurora didn’t even know she had a specific look on her face. “I don’t know,” she says, drying off her face and then moving to drop herself on the bed. “Adult feelings are hard,” Aurora says with a laugh.

“You guys already said ‘I love you’ and are sleeping together… what else could there be?”

Aurora groans. “Him being an international rockstar messes with my head sometimes and tour is almost over.”

“Ohhhh,” Issac says realising what’s happening. He’s been there for every single ‘existential dread of change’ conversation--his name for it, not hers. “Roo, you’ve got a full month of tour in front of you and if you think Harry’s gonna drop you the second that last show ends you’ve got something coming.”

“You don’t know that,” she says with a frown. “Roo, do you not think he actually loves you?”

“No!” she says quickly. “I’m not questioning that!”

“If you’re not questioning that then why would you even think anything is going to change?”

“Things always change and touring is a different world. Once tour is over, everything changes.”

“Not everything will change. He’ll still love you after that last show and you’ll both start something new. He’ll make more music, you’ll keep styling him and maybe your boss will get you some other jobs in the meantime.” Aurora lets out a heavy sigh. “And he’ll tour again and you’ll do it again.”

“I know you’re right. You always are with these things,” she sighs again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Thanks for talking me down,”

“Always.”

“Now, shall we drink and talk or drink and watch a movie?”

Issac gets a cold beer from his fridge and Aurora orders wine via room service. They decide on a movie they’ve both seen a million times because without a doubt they’ll end up talking through it anyways. When the movie ends they continue chatting through the credits.

“Okay, you compare the tour dates with your calendar and then let me know which one works for you,” Aurora confirms.

“Maybe I'll just tag along on the rest of the tour,” he jokes.

They’re both laughing despite their tiredness but they eventually stop and say goodnight.

Aurora snuggles into the hotel bed after messing with the sheets and tossing the extra pillows to the floor. She falls asleep fast now that her head is clear, the feeling in her chest is not so heavy--the magic effects of a facetime with her best friend.

| | | | |

Aurora’s sat on the worn down couch in Harry’s dressing room, Harry’s fringe covered jacket that he wore the night before sprawled across her lap, those random Gucci pillows to her left. In front of her on the coffee table, her laptop is propped open, her mother’s smiling face looking back at her.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta reattach the ones we still have and then I’m making some makeshift ones to fill any other empty space.”

“You know better than anyone that you should always do a dress rehearsal,” Aurora’s mom reminds her.

“Mom,” she groans, “yes, I know that, but that’s kinda hard when there’s almost 100 looks. We didn’t have much time before the tour started.”

“Doesn’t he rehearse or something before each show?” Aurora rolls her eyes. She is more annoyed with herself than her mother right now.

“Soundcheck, yeah.” She lets out a sigh. “I should’ve had him wear the jacket for soundcheck at least.” Aurora threads a needle with red thread that matches the fringe. “Didn’t really cross my mind. Everything was already designed and made with him performing on stage and everything, but I didn’t think about things getting stuck in his guitar. I was only thinking about how amazing the fringe would look as he danced around.”

“Rory, sweetie, it’s okay, this is your job anyways, yeah? Making sure he looks good on stage, making repairs and all. I saw a few videos and you were right about how amazing it looks.”

“Yeah it’s fine. I just can’t believe it didn’t cross my mind.” Aurora shakes her head with a laugh. “Anyways, how’ve you been doing?”

“Busy at work but Leila came to visit last weekend. She tells me you’re pretty smitten,” her mom shares.

“Leila,” Aurora hisses. “What on earth did she tell you?” She asks with her eyes narrowed. She does a quick look at the door and it’s still only ajar like she left it. She’d prefer not to have this conversation with everyone being in earshot but this is the best she could do now.

“More than you have.”

“Mom, come on! You can’t expect me to tell you everything or that I tell you everything I tell Leila!” Aurora drops her head back and it lands on the back of the couch. “Leila has something else coming for her when I see her.”

“Aurora Marie,” her mother scolds. Aurora groans. “If it makes you feel better I don’t think she told me everything, but it was still more than you’ve shared.” Aurora looks at her mom through the webcam on her laptop. “She said you stayed at his house in London,” her mother’s eyes soften, trying to relay that she's concerned and skeptical before she continues, “and that he also acted extremely jealous-”

“Do not,” Aurora warns her mother. “Do not pretend like you know anything.”

“Aurora, I’m just worried,” she pleads.

“Harry is not Adrian.” Aurora can’t believe she even has to say that sentence out loud. She can feel her chest tighten up. She catches a glimpse of what she looks like in the small rectangle at the top of the screen and she’s met with her own scowl. Aurora closes her eyes and lets out a breath through her nose. “It was nowhere near the same situation, Mom. I can promise you that.” She can’t believe her mom had the audacity to even think about comparing Harry to her ex boyfriend, Adrian.

“It’s hard not to make those conclusions if you’re keeping things from me.”

“Can you see why I didn’t tell you?”

“Rory, please, you have to understand that I worry, it’s my job.” Aurora can see her mother is trying to apologize.

“Mom, you have to trust me. Yes, Adrian was a jealous asshole and it ruined me. You don’t have to remind me, I was the one in the relationship.” Aurora doesn’t want to go through this. At this point she’d rather Leila told their mother about her sex life. “But this is not Adrian, it’s Harry and the situation was completely different.”

“A jealous man is a jealous man,” her mother says with what seems to be an all knowing tone.

“Mom, stop, please. It was so far from anything that I have ever dealt with before,” Aurora’s growing frustration is boiling in her chest now. Neither of them speak for a minute. Aurora is running through her thoughts trying to find a way to explain this in a way her mother will understand. “Harry’s different. The whole situation was completely different.” A memory sparks and Aurora takes a deep breath. “Okay, look at it this way. You know how I used to get during dance competitions? When I was overly exhausted and stressed? All my emotions at an all time high? That’s what tour is like, but times 10. Harry’s on stage almost every night and add in the traveling and sprinkle in the stress of our new relationship, which at the time was not official. I was stressed over the last part. I had just met his mom and sister and all his friends and I won’t go into it but there was a lot going on. There was a lot going on for both of us and in the midst of the exhaustion and stress and all the other emotions that were floating around, Harry jumped to conclusions. His brain played tricks on him.” Aurora pauses for a moment, her mom nodding along with the explanation. “My brain did the same to me during competitions. You know what that looks like, you know exactly what happened all of those times. I always needed a reasoning voice to calm me down, to explain to me what was really going on. You had to be tough on me sometimes, but you did it because you love me. I dealt with Harry the same way, with love and care but didn’t take any bullshit.” Aurora’s mother sighs then purses her lips together in thought. “Harry did not act on his jealousy like Adrian did. He came to me, we talked it out. I made him apologize.”

Okay is all her mom says so Aurora goes on.

“Mom, you’ve gotta trust me. I’ve learned from the past. I’ve grown up. I’m doing good. and god, I’ve never been happier.”

“I can see that,” her mom says with a smile. “I don’t know how much I have to say this, but I will always worry about you.”

“Please just try to not worry so much.” They look at each other through the screen. “I love you,” Aurora reminds her mother with a smile.

“I love you too, sweetie.”

“Any other burning concerns?” Aurora jokes. Her mother shakes her head with a soft laugh. “Good, anyways, not long till I’ll see you and you’ll get to meet him.”

“Can’t wait!” Her mother beams.

“Well, I called ‘cause I missed ya but also ‘cause I had a question.” Aurora hears the door creak and she turns her head to see it open and Harry come through. He’s wearing an old red t-shirt and black workout shorts. It’s clear he’s just finished training with the sweat clinging to his curls, the water bottle in his hand and his headphones in his ears.

“What was the question?” Aurora’s mother’s voice brings her attention back to the screen and the jacket in her lap.

“Yeah, so I have to make a few more fringe pieces to replace the missing ones and I couldn’t decide which fabric would match best,” Aurora reaches to the side of her for the few pieces of fabric she pulled from her case earlier.

“Hiya, Ror,” Harry says softly as he rounds the back of the couch. “Oh hello,” he says surprisingly when he sees an older woman on the screen. “You must be Rory’s mum,” he concludes. “Ror, looks just like you.” The eyes that stare at him through the computer screen are familiar and her hair is just like Aurora’s only with some flecks of grey throughout the dark dark brown strands.

“Well hello, Harry,” Aurora’s mom responds with a smile.

“Don’t want to interrupt,” he comments quickly, “just grabbing a quick kiss and then off to shower.” Aurora’s cheeks heat up quickly as she lets out a disbelieving huff. And with a promise on his word, Harry bends down, tilts Aurora’s chin with his free hand, lands a fleeting kiss on her lips and walks out of frame. Aurora’s mom has a bright smile on her face.

“What is that look for?” Aurora asks her mom through a giggle she can’t suppress.

“He’s sweet.”

“Shush, now help me decide which fabric to use so I can get back to work,” Aurora begs.

“My mom thinks you’re sweet,” Aurora says as she stands in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the hotel room. Harry’s ears perk up and he follows her voice. When he leans against the door frame of the bathroom he smiles at the sight in front of him.

The pair of cotton cut off shorts Aurora is wearing are rolled at the waistband to make up for the fact that they’ve stretched out over the years she’s had them. One of the few tour t-shirts she’s acquired over the past few months hangs loose off her shoulders and is tucked into the waistband of her shorts. Hot pink fuzzy socks cover her feet.

“Does she?” Harry asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. Aurora’s face is covered in soap now. She reaches for a clean washcloth to wet and wipe the soap from her face. She smiles at him through the mirror as she hums back to him. “and why’s that?”

“Well we were talking about you, had to clear some things up but then you came in and said Hi to her and then she didn’t question a thing.” Harry’s eyebrows furrow at the answer. He decides to walk into the bathroom and leans against the counter, his back to the mirror and head turned towards Aurora. She’s applying a new product from a blue bottle to her face, Harry doesn’t pay much attention to what it is, more interested in Aurora’s admission.

“What d’ya mean clear things up?”

“Oh,” Aurora says softly. She reaches out a hand to one of his forearms that’s crossed over his chest. She squeezes it before dropping her hand and grabbing another beauty product from her makeup back. “Nothing you have to worry about. She brought up my ex from a few years ago. He wasn’t-” Aurora pauses and looks to Harry, “he wasn’t the greatest.” She applies moisturize before she continues, Harry's eye’s not moving from her face. She takes a deep breath then turns her whole body so she can comfortably look at him. “My mother worries that every guy I meet is going to be like him. No need for me to go into detail but, he was obscenely jealous. No matter what I did he got upset over it. I thought I loved him at the time and didn’t really see how bad it was. Took a lot of convincing from my friend and Leila and my mom that he was bad news. He really messed with my head for awhile.” Aurora sighs as she searches Harry’s face. She can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but his brows are furrowed, a crease in his forehead and there’s tension in his arms that wasn’t there before. “But I learned from it, know how I deserve to be treated now.”

“You deserve the world,” Harry says and it surprises Aurora. “Just hope I can give you it.”

Aurora’s eyebrows raise in the middle of her face and her lips part. Never has anyone said something like that to her. She releases a breath before a small smile creeps up on her face.

“Think you might deserve even more than the world,” Harry adds.

Not even a full second passes before Aurora is cradling Harry’s face and placing a bruising kiss to his lips. Just as fast, Harry’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her body into his. “I’m gonna try my damndest to give you it though,” he says against her mouth when they pull apart momentarily. Twisting them around, he grips her waist tighter and lifts her onto the empty space on the bathroom counter.

“I hope to do the same for you, ya know,” Aurora whispers back to him. Their foreheads are pressed together and they just look at each other for a moment. They end up giggling and Aurora can’t help but kiss each and every crinkle that appears on Harry's face as he smiles that smile, the one she’s pretty sure he saves just for her. She starts at his dimples, which are so deep that they seem never ending. She kisses high on his cheek, leading to the creases at his eyes. It’s here she can see the brightness of the green in his eyes even through the squint he has right now. Her kisses land on the bridge of his nose and travel down following the lines that appear as he scrunches his nose, giggles still leaving his mouth. She gives up on trying to land a kiss on every single crease and line and divot and decides to kiss every square inch of his face before she finds his lips again. They’re both giggling lightly still and thought it makes it hard to kiss properly, they don’t stop. Their teeth knock together several times, kisses barely landing on each other's lips but they don’t care.

It’s long past midnight but neither of them care to move from where they are. Tomorrow’s a travel day, they can catch up on sleep thenn. And anyways, standing in the crappy fluorescent lighting of the hotel bathroom Harry can’t help but think about how he’s falling more in love by the second.

Her laughter mixes with his and it echoes off the tiled walls and it sounds just like a song.

__________

thanks for reading !!! I hope you enjoyed !!!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

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kerwritesthings · 4 years

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27, 54 :)

I wasn’t going to post this today. Last story I posted yesterday I’m still trying to push on since it’s still hanging out there in the wind & wasn’t feeling too motivated after that. But I had a really bad fuck of a moment at the end of the day and then this adorable bean decided to insta story pretty much at the same time. So, et voila we’re going with it.

This took a TURN, dear anon. I know it’s soft & fluffy prompts, and we’ll get to it. There’s a bit up at the front, it’s just a little bit of a journey to get to it at the end. I also didn’t expect this to be almost 2.8k. Ooopsies?

Prompts: “You have me to protect you, always.” AND “I will protect you with my life.”

Being on tour with Shawn is one thing. Being on tour with Shawn overseas though is another. It’s always an experience, but for this run it’s especially more than it’s ever been before. You’ve yet to experience a swing outside Canada, the States and Europe. With the last album already exceeding expectations and touring blowing up across the board, the tour went wider and longer than he’s ever done before. Which means in some cities, it’s multiple dates and even more so, graduating to stadiums.

“Excuse me what?!” you yell, looking at the “tickets” he’s placed in your hand. The sentimental fluff he is, had mockup concert tickets made to give you when he told you about Tokyo.

“Me, you, Japan. Gyoza, ramen, carousel sushi, mochi, bubble tea, and yeah playing what they’re telling me should be a sold-out Tokyo Dome,” he replies with a coy smile.

“Holy shit Shawn,” you exclaim as you tackle hug him. “That’s like what 50,000 plus? Sweetie, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

It was months away, but you both take to sending each other links to places you’d want to try, or photos of what Tokyo looks like in the spring. You specifically asking for photos of the two of you wandering through the cherry blossoms. You were meeting him there this go. He’s coming into town off the Australia and southeast Asian swing, with Tokyo being the final show to wrap things up before a break. And it wasn’t one show, he sold out two. There was still Latin and South America, but that was after the holidays and nothing to worry about yet.

The energy in the Dome is intense, electric and nothing like you have experienced at any of his shows before. Everything was a glow, every single one of the fans in the seats singing along. You head side stage to where you’ve grown to watching most shows you’re on the road for.

“Something else, eh?” Cez asks loudly to get over the crowd, throwing an arm around your shoulders and drawing you into his side.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat. You’re fighting back being this emotional, but this is unbelievable and that Rockstar up on stage? You get to call him yours.

Cez squeezes you tighter, “I know kiddo, I know. I still get that way even after being with him for this long. Come on, let’s go to the pit for the run.”

You follow, making sure your earplugs are securely in place. The roar is going to be deafening when he hits the straightaway. What you didn’t expect was for him to stop at the end, snag you around the waist, twirl you with a kiss before his usual heading back up for the rest of the finale.

“That’s so going to end up on Tumblr,” you scream at him as he sets you down, and you spy Connor laughing from behind the camera. He caught it all.

“Good, gifs abound showing how much I fucking love you,” he yells back, kissing you one more time before dashing back up to stage.

It takes forever to get through the folks who needed to say hello after the show, you saw him starting to wane after the third massive group that was being ushered into the green room. You caught Cez’s eye, nodding over towards Shawn.

He mouths on it to you and bless him, makes the group filter through quickly. As soon as they’re gone and the door is closing behind them, he collapses on the couch pulling you down next to him, head tipping into your shoulder.

“Hey Rockstar,” you whisper, kissing his temple.

“Mmmm, hi baby. Thank you for being here for here. Means everything,” he sighs, cuddling down into you.

“Always. It’s me and you versus the world, right? Hasn’t changed. Won’t change,” you reply, pressing a longer lingering kiss to his skin. “Go shower. Go change. I’ll even wait in your room for you. Then we’ll head back. Me, you, room service and that pretty piece of silk we found at the night market.”

“Yes please,” he murmurs, kissing you slowly, sweetly like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

“Off with you,” you nudge him up and push him towards the door. His hand reaches for yours immediately, lacing his fingers in tightly with yours.

Finally, when he is done and his team has been told that things have seem to be a bit calmer outside, you start to make your way towards the sprinter van.

“I need you two to hold on to each other, and to me if you can. More importantly to stay close to us,” Jake explains seriously pointing between him and Big Eddie, who was here in Tokyo for the last few days with the team. “We have to do a straight shot to the car. Still too many folks to stop kid, I’m sorry but I can’t risk it. Not with the missus with you.”

You’re not even engaged yet, but since moment one of meeting Jake, he’s taken to calling you the missus. You both nod, Shawn taking a hold of your hand tightly. “I got you,” he whispers.

It’s a crowd like you’ve ever seen post-show before. It’s seas of people on both sides of the barricades. The roar comes once they see him. It’s a swell.

“Fuck, this is not what calm should look like,” Jake mutters. “We’re running. Go go go.”

You tighten your grip on his hand. Jake’s in front, a hold on Shawn, then you with Eddie’s one hand on your shoulder. You somehow hear the metal clatter to the ground and the plastic cracking before you see the people start spilling over and reaching for all of you.

“Shit,” you hear, not sure who it was from, but you’re being pushed forward. The jostling makes you lose your grip on Shawn’s hand first, then the next thing you know people are getting their way in between you and you don’t feel Eddie at your back any longer. You try not to panic, but it’s a sea of complete strangers. You think about calling out for Jake or Eddie. Names that would stand out in the sea of fans’ clamoring. It’s not worth it to even try calling out for Shawn, the crowd is boisterous and already chanting his name. It only takes a few moments before someone realizes who you are. You think about pulling out your phone, but you know it would be a lost cause. You just need to try to keep pushing your way forward. You start to get pulled at, pushed back and forth and it’s hard at this point to not start tearing up. You keep trying to move towards what you think is the direction you were going in in the first place.

At the same time, Shawn is losing his shit inside the van.

“Jake, I don’t fucking care about my own damn safety right now, she’s out there in this shitstorm, and out there in this shitstorm alone,” he yells. “Let me out of here, I need to find her. I told her I had her, Jake. Fuck, I need to get to her.”

“Kid I get it, but you’re not going out there. We’ve got the whole damn team and some of the arena folks weeding through the crowd to get to her,” Jake tries to state calmly. “I can’t let you out there. Hell, I can’t leave you alone in here to go find her myself. You know that’s not safe.”

“Not good enough, if she’s not back in 5, hell in 2. I don’t care Jake; I’ll pop out the damn sunroof if I have to,” he replies, pulling at his hair. “If I promise not to move, stay here, will you go out there? Jake please, I trust you. She trusts you. I just, I can’t just sit here and not do everything I can for her.”

Jake wipes his face with his hand, “You don’t move a muscle you hear me? I’m locking you in the damn car to boot, so no climbing and going through the roof like you threatened.”

“Yes, I promise,” he nods, his eyes still wild from the adrenaline. “Jake, please just find her.”

Jake quickly slides the door open to duck out, locking it behind him.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, maybe 4 or 5 minutes since Jake left, but it’s feeling like a lifetime. He keeps checking his phone, but he knows there’s no way if you’re lost in this that it’s not worth it to pull out your phone. There are three quick heavy knocks on the van door that has him shifting back against the opposite side. He’s not sure what’s going on. The driver’s side door opens first with the driver shifting into the seat, then Eddie opens the sliding door letting Jake in with you in his arms before slamming it shut behind him.

“Ok time to get gone,” Jake says to the driver as he slides you into Shawn’s hold. “She’s ok, shaken up for sure, rattled and she probably won’t be wearing that shirt again. She said no one went after her, couple folks started tugging a bit harder than normal once they figured out who she was. But nothing bruised, broken or cut from what I can see or what she said. Was a good thing she threw her hair up after the show. I spotted that pineapple bun of hers in the sea of people. Got to her quickly after that.”

“Baby,” he says pulling you into him tightly, burying his face into your hair at first, then your neck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m here now, I’m right here.”

You’re shaking, cold from the crash of emotions, adrenaline dissipating. You can’t help but start sniffing and holding onto him snugly, wrapping around him like a vine. He was warm and comfort and love, all you really want or need at the moment.

“Call Cez and Andrew, anything that was planned or thought about for the next couple days before we go back to Toronto that has anything to do with work is off the table. That’s not up for debate,” his voice hard. “This also cannot happen again. Ever. That was utter bullshit. They had nothing under control, and that’s a risk I’m not willing to take. This is my family and I’m not having it. I’ll call Louis myself if I have to, this…”

He trails off, the crash starting to hit on his side and the tears start to slowly fall.

“I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you sweetheart, I’m not going to let something like that ever happen again,” he bites out, trying not to cry harder. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. You’re my everything, you know that yeah? You have me to protect you, always. I will protect you with my life.”

“He tried to fight me to get to you,” Jake chimes in quietly as the van speeds its way back to the hotel. “I just couldn’t let him. But this boy, he was ready to take me if he had to. He’d lay it out and down for you. I’m sorry too, missus. This shouldn’t have been the way this went down. We’ll make sure of it. You’re as much as my responsibility as this kid is, and…”

“’S not your fault,” you croak out, still leaning heavily into Shawn. “Any of you. Crowd control means different things everywhere, especially at a venue that size, and who knew the barricades were going to snap and break. It’s not ok that they basically lied to the team though, that’s what I’m angry about. I’m ok though, shaky and in desperate need of a shower and some sleep, but not broken, not cracked. Maybe just a little worse for wear.”

Shawn wraps you up tighter, “Whatever you need tonight, baby.”

Once you’re back in the hotel, Jake safely deposits the both of you into Shawn’s room. It’s dark and quiet and you just stand in the bedroom holding each other there for a few minutes.

“Shower with me?” you ask, shifting yourself against him tightly again. “Please?”

“Let me call down for some tea first? You go get the water warm,” he whispers against the top of your head.

“Hot chocolate? With Baileys and marshmallows?” you volley back, a half smile trying to creep up your lips.

“Of course, whatever’s gonna make you feel better tonight,” he squeezes you again, before nudging you towards the bathroom. “I’ll let you steal my Leafs shirt too.”

You finally exhale fully once you’re in the bathroom. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath that long. Or at least that’s what it was feeling like. Setting the shower a little warmer than normal, you quickly strip everything off, tossing it into the corner to deal with later. Stepping under the rainfall showerhead, you start to feel everything just sliding away, tension, the dirt, your fears. Quickly you start to wash off head to toe. You didn’t realize you had started to cry until you heard his feet splash the water against the tile behind you.

“Baby,” he half sighs half cries out, before sliding under the water to press you against him. “Let it go, let it all out. Go head, I’m here. You’re safe, pretty girl. it’s just you and me.”

You feel him start to let his emotions out as well, shaky breaths giving him away. You both stay like that, fusing together until the water starts to cool, but it’s worth it for the feeling a little semblance of getting yourself back together. Both of you.

“Let’s go get into bed with your boozy cocoa yeah?” he asks, lips against your forehead.

As he bundles you up in a towel, you realize for the first time he’s yet to kiss you kiss you since everything. You’re not sure if it’s a conscious decision, part of you thinks it is. You watch him for a moment as he towels off his hair, another balancing precariously low on his hips. He catches you, his lips trying to quirk up into a smile but it’s not quite there. He beckons you closer and you go without question.

He takes a fresh towel to blot at your hair, carefully sopping as much of the moisture away as he could.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask carefully. “You realize you haven’t really kissed me since before we walked out of the venue earlier? Not like you, baby.”

He lays the towel he was using for your hair across your shoulders, flipping the damp tresses out from underneath it. He looks intently at you for a moment before his right palm comes up to cup your cheek, thumb carefully swiping back and forth across your skin. “I couldn’t, I just…” he started before his breath caught for a minute. “I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you. It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you weren’t here with me.”

“Hey, hey, none of that,” you say, pressing a finger across his lips. “Accidents happen. They suck. Yes, and this one, it was scary and all that shit, but it’s done. It’s over. Can you please kiss me now? Please Shawn?”

He kisses the pad of your finger, his other hand coming up to rest against your other cheek. He draws you in closer, tilting his forehead down to rest against yours. He starts slowly, softly. A whisper of a kiss across your lips, almost so light you don’t feel it at first. Then a stronger of a press before pulling away, nuzzling your nose with his. “I love you,” he whispers before letting go and really kissing you. It’s bruising, deep and wet; his tongue relentless. He’s letting everything he’s felt through this all out in this kiss. When he pulls away, you sling your arms around his waist to hold him. You head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat in your ears.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you remind him, pressing your lips against his chest. “Sweetheart, I’m here. I’m ok. We’ll take care of the logistical clusterfuck tomorrow. But for now, what I’d like? Since you said anything I need tonight. I want, I need you to love me Shawn. That’s all I’ll ever want from you, is your love.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes story #soft fluffy prompts

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wr1ter-reader-dreamer · 4 years

Text

Better Than I Ever Could’ve Imagined (Pt. 2)

Werewolf!Shawn Mendes x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

The world stopped for just a moment as I gazed up at him, my breath hitching in my throat. The crowd around me was cheering, but I couldn’t hear it as his soft brown eyes flashed black for just a moment. I gasped as a grin slowly spread across his features, my heart stopping for just a moment before restarting and beating harder than before.

Shawn stepped back in front of the mic and removed it from its stands so he could walk around the stage, his eyes never leaving me and his grin never fading.

“I’ve always wanted to play ACL,” he spoke, pausing to give the crowd a moment to stop screaming, “I’m so grateful I could be here today. I love you guys.”

I forgot to breathe as his eyes connected with mine again briefly before he turned to look at his band behind him. The lead guitar nodded at him and he turned back to the crowd, a smile still on his soft lips, “This next one is one of my favorites. I want you to scream it for me.”

The first notes of ‘Mercy’ slipped through the massive speakers and the crowd around me erupted, but I couldn’t focus on that. Shocked to my core, I turned to Dede to find that she was already grinning at me.

“Am I crazy or did he totally look right at me?” I asked , a small grin starting to make its way onto my lips.

She squealed, grabbing my arms and shaking me as she shouted, “He totally smiled right at you! Oh my god!”

I laughed at her antics, “Maybe this outfit was a good idea after all.”

Dede laughed with me, turning back to the stage and prompting me to do the same. I allowed my eyes to slip closed, a stupid grin on my face as I savored the moment for just a second before tucking it away in my mind to remember later. Shawn may have smiled at me, but it didn’t mean anything. I was just another fan in the crowd he happened to make eye contact with.

With that in mind I focused back on the concert, allowing myself to really hear the music for the first time that night. The beat of the song and Shawn’s angelic voice slipped in and settled in my heart, and I started to lose myself, singing and dancing along with the crowd around me. I screamed for Shawn as he ran around the stage, a euphoric glow radiating off of him as he poured his heart into every word he sung. The Texas heat started to get to him, sweat dampening his wild curls and causing his shirt to cling to his lean muscles. I half hoped it would start raining just so I could see him soaking wet. That and I needed something to cool down the heat bumbling in my stomach from the way he kept yelling “Scream it!” and running his hands through his hair.

The rest of the concert flew by all too fast, Shawn glancing at me a few more times but never letting his gaze linger the way it had before. Before I knew it, the last notes of his last song were fading away and he was making his way off stage, constantly turning to wave and blow kisses at his fans. The crowd continued to scream for a few moments after he disappeared from view and then the noise faded to the dull roar of hundreds of conversations as people made their way away from the stage. I turned to Lila and Dede, a smile on my face as I forced them to linger so I could savor the post-concert euphoria I was feeling.

“He was so good,” Lila gushed, her eyes flashing gold as a smirk slipped onto her lips with her next words, “and he looked good enough to eat.”

Dede and I burst out laughing, shoving her lightly for her comment. Lila was never one to hold back when she found someone attractive. If her words didn’t give it away, the gold flash of her eyes as her wolf surfaced did. Lila, like many people today, was a werewolf. Society had long ago gotten over their fear of werewolves and they no longer had to hide. It was now just as common to see a werewolf as a human, and we all got along for the most part.

Lila’s eyes reminded me how Shawn’s had flashed black, and I frowned. I was about to ask the girls if they had known that Shawn was a werewolf when someone cleared their throat loudly.

Simultaneously we all three turned to look for the source of the sound. The majority of Shawn’s fans had cleared out as we had been talking, so there was now nobody between us and the metal barrier keeping the crowd away from the stage. The sound had clearly come from the man standing just beyond the fence resting his arms on it and looking directly at us.

“Can we help you?” I asked, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow. I tended to be mistrustful of strangers, especially men, and was not amused by the unwanted interruption.

Lila elbowed me, her eyes going wide as she hissed, “Y/N! That’s Shawn’s manager. Be nice!”

The man chuckled, his eyes meeting mine as he extended his hand for me to shake, “Andrew Gertler.”

I shook his hand tentatively, still suspicious as to what he wanted, “Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, I have been given the very important task of convincing you to come back stage.”

“What?!” Lila squealed excitedly at the same moment Dede and I said, “The fuck.”

Andrew laughed at our shocked expressions and nodded, “Yup. Shawn sent me himself. He wants to meet you.”

My eyes narrowed as I turned to Lila, “Are you sure this is Shawn Mendes’ manager?”

She nodded vigorously, starting to bounce with excitement as she shook me a little, “Yes! You have to go!”

I frowned and glanced back at Andrew, still not convinced. People like Shawn didn’t notice and want to meet people like me. Besides, I didn’t know this Andrew guy and I wasn’t too keen on going anywhere alone with him no matter who he worked for.

“Your friends can come too, if you want,” Andrew said, seeming to read my thoughts.

“Oh please Y/N!” Lila said, full on bouncing with excitement now, “For me?”

I glanced to Dede, who shrugged, before turning to Andrew and sighing, “Ok, let’s go.”

#werewolf!shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #werewolf!au #soulmate #y/n #fanfiction #x reader #shawn mendes #mates #soulmate!au #part 2 #acl #shawn mendes acl #better than i ever could've imagined

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sweetwritertanya · 4 years

Text

Sing With You (Part 3)

Summary: You and Jungkook become entangled on a moment of passion after you decide to surprise him.

Warnings: SMUT! Like, almost all of it is smut. Be aware of: erotic body touching, somewhat fingering (but not really?), unprotected sex (be smart IRL), doggy style.

REQUESTED: YES! Two sweeties requested a smutty third part for my Sing With You series, so here it is! Hope you all enjoy it!

Word Count: 1848

“So you didn’t go with them?” you asked through the phone, a smile tugging at your lips, completely out of your control.

“No… They said I was sulking, but I’m not. I just miss you so much, I wanted to talk to you” you hear him whine while you press the number on the elevator. His hyungs were probably just teasing him with hopes he would cheer up, but he was too down to see it. You sighed.

“Baby, you should have gone with them. Celebrating after a concert is always so fun” you tell him, stepping out and walking down the deserted hallway.

“Nothing is fun when I’m missing you.” You could almost see his pout through the phone and you bit down your lip, trying to suppress a chuckle.

“Well, if I’m being completely honest, I’m kind of glad you didn’t go” you confess, stopping at the correct door.

“Why is that?” he asks, confused.

“You’ll see.”

A knock on his door makes Jungkook stand up from his chair, phone still on his hear, and go look through the peep hole. He gasps at what he sees.

Throwing the door wide open, you giggle at the wide brown eyes, open-mouthed man in front of you, phone still pressed against his hear, hair still slightly moist from the shower. He looked you up and down, taking in your figure as if finding it unbelievable you were actually there.

“Surprise!” you say, hanging up your phone.

“What… How…” he didn’t seem to be able to pick a question. He lowered his phone, but was still standing in your way, not moving from the doorframe.

“I’m the mystery guest for my friend’s concert tomorrow! You know, she’s-” but you couldn’t finish your sentence.

Yelping at the sudden pull, Jungkook grabbed you by your waist and crashed you into his chest, closing the door as he spanned you around in the hotel room. You hang on to his shoulders, nuzzling at his neck as you laughed.

Without giving you too much room to catch your breath, Jungkook puts you down just so he can lean back and kiss you, his soft lips puckering your own and growing needier and hungrier by the second. You smile into the kiss and grab the nape of his neck with one hand to keep your lips locked, showing him how much you missed him too.

Forcing your lips open, he deepened the kiss, invoking a tremble up your back as you sighed. Mouths working together, feeling and tasting one another, your feet were forced to move back until you reached the inside of the room, the back of your legs hitting the soft bed in the middle.

“Kook…” you whispered when you were forced to sit down on the bed, no longer having the strengths to stand up.

Jungkook’s lips moved from yours to the side of your neck, much to your pleasure. He was kneeled on the bed beside you, one hand moving up and down your back, the other brushing the skin of your arm that he was disclosing of your jacket.

“I missed you so much, Y/N” he murmurs against your hot skin. “So much. Still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here” you assure him, one hand moving to grab the hair on his head as his lips move further down to your collarbones.

“Stay the night?” he asks, one hand already under your shirt, cold fingers bringing goosebumps on your skin. Like you could ever say no to him, when he asked so nicely.

“Of course” you smiled at him.

He kissed you again, deeply, interrupting the movement of his mouth only to take your shirt off your body. Licking his lips, he proceeded to nib and suck at every inch of skin he could, eliciting embarrassing noises from your throat that you just couldn’t control. Hands roaming up and down your back and sides, one eventually moved to your covered breast as the other tried to open the hooks on your back.

You felt an uncomfortable heat inside you, one that his touch only fueled further but that only his touch could extinguish as well. It was a contradiction that frustrated you to no end, especially when he took his time to tease you, like he was doing now.

The bra now gone, he was kneading at your breasts and enjoying the feel of them on his hands, scrubbing his thumbs over the hardening nipples but never really rubbing them or taking them in his mouth. The tension on the pit of your stomach was only aggravating and you squirmed underneath him.

“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him.

Thankfully, even though you knew he loved teasing you, he could never master to refuse any of your wishes. He was quite the compliant man, probably because he was just as eager as you were to further things.

Finally taking one of your nipples into his mouth, he sucked and flicked his tongue on it just enough to have you moan from the pleasure, relieving but unsatisfactory at the same time. Your own hands were gripping at his sweater, bringing it up his body. He helped you remove it from him as he treated your other breast the same. Running your hands up and down his back, squeezing his shoulders and the muscles of his arms, you relished in the feeling of him trembling above you.

His hands immediately moved to his belt, that he took off as well as his trousers, leaving him only in his underwear. Flushed and breathing heavily, your lifted your hips so he could do the same to you. Showing no hesitation, not only did he took off your jeans, he also took of your panties on the same go. You gasped at the cold air contrasting with your burning center.

“God, baby…” he growled, looking at your naked form. “Can… can your get on your knees for me, baby?”

You smiled up at him, still finding it adorable that he blushed whenever he had some kind of request like this. You sat up and pulled him down so you could kiss his lips lovingly.

“Anything for you” you told him.

Hands and knees on the soft white sheets of the hotel bed, you looked back to see his admiring expression, hands moving the expand of your back and down to your butt, that he squeezed slightly, before his fingers slid between your folds to your aching center.

“So wet…” You saw something twitch inside his boxers as he moved down to kiss your back.

“Please, Jungkook” you whimper, gripping the sheets. You were so ready for him.

Breath itching in his throat, he took off his last item of clothing and, excruciatingly slow, rubbed his length against your sensitive core. You bit your lips, but the moans were still escaping you. Your insides were burning up and you just couldn’t take it anymore. You pressed your hips against him, hoping he would get the idea. He did.

There was almost no resistance as he finally drove himself into your warmth, a sigh of relief leaving your parted lips at the sensation of him stretching and filling you up. His hands were wondering your exposed back and sides as he stood still, letting you adjust properly.

“So, so good… Y/N, baby, you’re so good…” he kept whispering between caresses, making you feel so incredibly loved and cared for.

Wiggling your hips a bit, he hissed before he started moving. Pulling slowly out only to slam back in, he dig his hands on your hips to keep him steady as he kept the fast pace. The sound of skin slapping skin, the feeling of him rubbing your inner walls with each thrust, the tip hitting a deep spot in you that had your nerves catch on fire, you were closer and closer to the edge each time.

You knew he was too, his breathing becoming labored, the whimpers escaping him, the way his hands were now sliding up and down your skin, feeling the most of you that he could.

“Y/N, baby! Ah, I can’t… You need!” He couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but neither could you really. Your whole face was burning up and your brain was completely numb, all you were capable of doing was hold yourself up and let out lewd sounds from the back of your throat.

Needing you to reach your end, Jungkook’s hand moved across your stomach only to reach in between your legs, rubbing just above where your bodies were already connecting, the little bud that was throbbing as much as his shaft inside you was.

The added pleasure from his hand on your bundle of nerves was enough to make your scream and fall over the edge, something inside you shattering and your walls clenching vividly around him, enticing his own climax from how tight you became.

Your arms gave out and you fell into the pillows, the gripping strength of his hands on your hips as he paralyzed behind you, reaching his own end as fluids mixed inside, the only reason for your legs not to collapse as well. But when he slipped out of you, his body falling beside you, you curled up on your side to watch him. Sweaty skin, blushed cheeks and pleasure-filled eyes, he never looked more handsome to you.

“Thank you for coming” he whispered.

You hit his arm, hiding your face behind your hands at the double meaning of his words.

“Jungkook!” you admonished him.

He chuckled and pulled your body close to him, bringing the sheets up to cover both of you.

“I meant for coming here, to meet me. You have such a dirty mind!” he teased, one hand coming up to cover your blushing cheek.

“I do not. You’re the one that doesn’t seem to make a phrase that can’t be misunderstood” you told him, inching closer to him and nuzzling your face up to his chest.

“Yeah, it seems to happen a lot when I’m with you” he admitted.

“Well… fortunately for you, I find it adorable” you told him, smiling against his skin.

“Ugh…! Not adorable. Say handsome instead” he proposed.

“That too, but I maintain the adorable” you chuckled.

“Fine. You’re lucky I love you so much” he hid his face on your hair before you could look up at him to see his expression.

“Can’t disagree with that. Still feels unbelievable to me, sometimes. I had a crush on your for so long, I worry this is all some kind of dream” you confess.

“It’s not. I love you” he kissed your head.

“Love you too, Jungkook” you reciprocated. Then you pulled your head back so you could look at him as an idea popped up in your mind. “Wanna come with me tomorrow? To the concert? You guys only leave the day after, right?”

He smiled warmly at you, a sparkle on his big chocolate eyes.

“Only if I get to sing with you on stage” he said.

“Deal” you kissed his smiling lips.

#bts #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jeon jungguk #bts jeon jungguk #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagine #smut #kpop smut #request

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mendesstories · 4 years

Text

From the Ground Up

A/N: This idea came to me when I first heard the song ‘From The Ground Up’ by Dan + Shay a few months ago and this has been sitting around in my drafts ever since. I never liked how it kept turning out and I’m still not a 100% proud but here goes nothing. Tell me what you think!!

Taglist: @mendesficsxbombay @particularnervous (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know)

March 2016

“So...it’s time, eh?” He sighs looking at her.

She glumly nods, her eyes roaming everywhere but refusing to meet his. Her mouth opens to say something but her throat runs dry and suddenly words seem hard to find. Truthfully, she’s not sure what to say to the boy she loves when he’s about to leave for what, she prays for his sake, is the first of many of his own world tours.

She steps towards him, takes a deep breath and attempts to gather her resolve for him.

“I’m only nervous because I don’t know how things will work out ahead.”

“But I’ll call ever-”

“No wait let me finish, I want you to know that this-” she gulps and her fingers fidget with the frill of her top, “-this is big and it’s going to change your life. I’m so so proud and happy that you get to do this because, my dude, you deserve to live your dream more than anyone else I know. And, even if all the distance and time changes us, I won’t hate you ever, you’ll always be my best friend first.”

He wants to tell her that her fears are irrational. They are them, they’ll get through it all together but he’s not sure he can actually convince her this time. If he’s being honest he’s terrified she’s going to be right like always, that’ll he’ll get caught up in the glitz and glamour of it all and lose her.

He moves towards her tentatively, hands snaking around her waist and she melts into his embrace. Her head rests on his chest, her shoulders shuddering and for a split second, he blames himself for choosing to do what he loves and hurting the ones he loves in the process.

For a fraction of a millisecond, he has this feeling although nothing might ever be the same in his life again, that somehow the two of them will pull through it. That little glimmer is enough for him. Now, it’s his turn to take a deep breath and garner some strength for her sake.

He whispers softly, “Believe me, baby. We’ll be alright.”

Her dad watches them wearily from the side. He knows Shawn is a bright young boy with big dreams filling up his mind and only the best intentions at heart but he cannot help his fatherly inhibitions from clouding his thoughts.

He wonders how right Shawn is in choosing to make this his career and not going to college. He isn’t sure if they truly understand how the dynamic of their relationship is about to alter, both of them ambitious but heading down starkly different paths. He worries the scrutiny and attention that is bound to come, will wear out even his strong-willed little girl.

August 2019

Post-concert Shawn is always on an adrenaline high. Tonight, however, was truly special. He’s played the biggest show of his life. A sold-out stadium in his home city. The same place he would pass by numerous times as a child with his gaze fixated and eyes wide unable to wrap his mind around big it is.

Certainly, he never imagined that one-day a deafening crowd would sing the words he wrote in his journals back to him when his slacked jaw and welled up eyes leave it hard for him to swallow and finish the words.

She’s out there in the deafening crowd with her hair flying in every which direction with his sister singing along to every song just like everyone else in the audience. His biggest (and possibly favourite) supporter since day one.

He gets off stage a jittery mess with his heart still pounding fast against his chest and the whole room is electrified with his entrance. He hands his guitar to Cez and is pulled in for a hug.

There are bottles clinking, friends and family making rounds hugging him and each other. There’s enough energy in the room to spark up the CN tower standing tall behind them.

The past five years of his life and career have gone by in the blink of an eye. She was right when she predicted everything would change but the one thing that’s stayed constant is that he wouldn’t want to do any of this without her by his side, be it having to clean up the beer bottles and leftover pizza after Brian’s roaring 21st or playing a twice as roaring Rogers Stadium.

So, smile a mile wide and hands still clammy he makes his way towards her. He picks her up giving her a quick twirl and she lets out a little laugh. It’s enough to ignite his burning heart further.

He puts her down and she pulls him in closer for the tightest and warmest hug ever. Her blanket of love, happiness and pride envelops him.

He did it

Something lights up in her holding him so close in her arms. A glimmer, like the one he had in the airport all those years ago, tells her as long as they are hand in hand giving life their all, they’ll have many more moments like this one.

September 2019

He’s seated in the crowded auditorium between her parents and little brother, adjusting his dress shirt and formal slacks waiting for the graduation to start.

He recalls that one late night during the Europe leg of the tour when he woke up to fetch some water and realised she wasn’t in his arms. He found her with her shoulders bent over her textbooks and laptop, reading and rereading the words attempting to make sense of the page. She rubbed her eyes and willed herself to stay awake.

5 more minutes she convinced herself every five minutes

His heart plummeted looking at her haggard appearance knowing he was partly responsible for it. He never asked her, he never had to, she magically always knew. She could tell sense his anxiety building up. The initial buzz of being on tour fading away. He wanted to come home, tease his sister and press kisses to his mother’s cheek.

She would give him the world if he so asked and if there was anything she could do to keep his heart even slightly happier, she would. So without much hesitation, she makes a few adjustments in her budget for the rest of the month and flies out to him.

The glint in his bright eyes and his warm laugh reverberating through her eardrums when she surprised him made it all worth it.

Standing in the dim light of the tour bus it occurred to him how selfish and unfair he was to be so caught up buzzing around in excitement of her arrival to see how all that she does for him takes a toll on her as well.

He knows she’s going to compensate for this trip by working a few extra and long shifts around her classes. Her classes are a whole other story. They are far from easy and he has come to understand computer science is an incredibly time consuming and draining major despite her being passionate about the subject.

Recording albums, selling out stadiums, and writing heart-wrenching, gut-twisting songs was never her dream but she believed in his nevertheless. While chasing her own dream, she’s continued to support his.

Decidedly he wipes the sleep away from his tired eyes. He makes up his mind that he’s going to help her study even if that meant simply keeping her company.

“What? Why are you awake?” She asks him breaking out of her trance as he settles into the space beside her.

“Here, please take care of yourself, honey.” He mumbled into the dark placing a cold glass of water and some fruit in front of her.

Andrew may have found them the next morning all cuddled up, soft snores leaving their exhausted bodies, but they had successfully finished her linear algebra 1 work.

His face breaks into the biggest grin when they announce her name. Hands clapping as loudly as possible while she walks up on stage beaming with pride and standing tall in all her 5 feet 5 glory. Her dad even whistles a few times. He can only imagine how proud her parents are of their daughter.

She did it

His chest constricts with a bubbling feeling and he isn’t quite sure what it is. Perhaps it’s pride but something tells him it’s just the all-consuming love he has for her and all of her.

4 years later

The second she is pushed out the room is engulfed in an overwhelming torrent of emotion.

She’s beautiful

It’s his first thought. Certainly, she’s covered in baby gunk but she’s still beautiful.

The silence in the room for the first few seconds seemed piercing. Is she alright? She’s supposed to cry, right? Why isn’t she crying? Then it’s replaced by her faint little cry which grows louder and louder until it has turned into an all-out no holds scream. She’s loud but he doesn’t mind in the slightest. She’s safe. His wife is safe. His own family is here safe and sound.

“We have to clean her up first.” The nurse declares gently picking her up from her mother’s chest where they placed her for barely a minute.

He doesn’t want to let her out of his sight. So, he drops his head and presses a kiss to his wife’s forehead, whispers an ‘I love you’ and speeds off after the nurse.

Not so much to one’s surprise she cries and shrieks as they take a prick of her blood and check her vitals. It takes everything in him to not pick her up and coo into her little ears that he’s right here and as long as he’s round he won’t let anything bad happen to her.

“Hi angel, I love you.” He bends down and mumbles as the nurse runs a washcloth across her tummy.

He never imagined those five words would alter his life and perspective forever. Her cries seem to subside and he knows that newborns have little to no muscle power and she can’t really see but he swears she looks at him and calms down.

4 years later

Estela Mendes is nearly four now. She has more fun each day than should be legally allowed. She struggles with sharing toys and her parents’ undivided attention with her toddler brother (her parents promise you they are working on this), while her curiosity about the baby in her mama’s belly grows each day.

4 years and 7 months later

Gotta support the neck Gotta support the neck

The thought has been drilled into his head by his parents over the past few months. While his fans may have said countless things about his large hands, some of their words managing to leave him haunted, he never really noticed how large his hands actually were until now. She seems so little and fragile in his arms compared to the first two now notorious Mendes siblings.

It’s safe to say the youngest Mendes daughter wasn’t planned yet somehow she came at the perfect time.

The two of them had spent a fair number of nights with goosebumps rising on their skin in the Toronto breeze, after putting their kids to bed, (god, how do they sound so old?) huddled shoulder to shoulder as she indulged in her choice of cravings for the night (it was a jar of pickles more often than not) dreaming of what the baby girl growing inside would be like.

Now, she’s here and he’s enamored with her very existence. He can’t keep his eyes off her. If it was all up to him he’d sit there for hours on an end memorizing every little detail of her being and watch her attempt to clasp her small figures around his large ones.

His wife rests her head on his shoulders, exhaustion rimming her eyelids with her matted hair against her forehead. She moves her hand that is free of the IV needles and tubes to bring the two older children, smitten with the latest addition to the family, closer into her lap.

Everything he’s ever wanted - needed really - is right here in his arms. He feels complete.

7 years later

The youngest Mendes child is clutched to her waist, hands moving animatedly describing plans she has with her siblings for the rest of the day, as the pair of them make their way out to the rest of the family in their backyard.

His wife’s heart grows in size finding both sets of grandparents recollecting stories while Shawn teaches his two older children how to strum a certain chord on his guitar.

The mess of curls - that is her son - seated on Shawn’s lap has a glint of mischief lacing his eyes trying to think of ways to add his touch of fun to the relatively calm backyard.

She puts her daughter down who wobbles across the grass to where her dad and siblings are seated.

Now, all four of them are playing some game. He somehow manages to lift all three of them into the air, makes the sound of a bear growling, places them back onto the grass gently and tickles them until they’re all in fits of laughter.

The delirious belly laughs they let out at his antics have him grinning ear to ear. The simplicity of the moment overwhelms him. This is all he could ever dream of having and more. A family of his own, people that are his own and people with whom he can cherish the wild rollercoaster of moments his life has been and continues to be.

All those inhibitions her dad had at the airport years ago no longer hold true. He’s watched Shawn grow into being the incredible partner and father that he is today.

He’s the man her dad hoped he would be.

65 years later

The morning sun streaming in uninvited kisses them awake. He opens his eyes to the slivers of light peeping in through the gaps in the blinds casting thin stripes across her tan and angelic skin.

She blinks multiple times adjusting to the sudden light drowsily, mouth curving into a lopsided grin as he pulls her closer into his embrace.

65 years old now, in this little house that they made home when they stepped foot into young, first child on the way, eyes dancing with excitement for the future.

The pictures that adorn every nook and corner of this warm and humble abode are a testament to their tale. The clouds may have rolled and the earth may have shook but they sheltered each other through the wind and the rain.

They did it

#shawn mendes #shawn x oc #shawn mendes fic #blurb #shawn #shawn x reader #mendes #writing #shawn mendes fanfic #fluff #fics #shawn mendes fics #fanfic

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strwberrytae · 5 years

Text

Addiction | 03

→ pairing: jungkook x reader → genre: drama | m for mature → words: 4k → a/n: this is a repost from my old blog but I completely forgot about this series. my goal is to continue it, so here is the introduction. disclaimer: there are mentions of an escort service. this is not a promotion of prostitution of any kind. this is strictly fiction and should be seen as such. read at your own discretion.

→ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03

→ summary: To say that someone is addicted to something can be either an exaggeration or so far from the appropriate term; it can be terrifying. At first, he seemed cute, playful; even attractive. But by the end of the month, you just dreaded the thought of telling him that you couldn’t satisfy him anymore. Rather, you dreaded the thought of admitting to yourself that you were just as addicted to him as he was to you.

“Addiction is defined by tolerance, withdrawal, and craving. We recognize addiction by a person’s heightened and habituated need for a substance; by the intense suffering that results from discontinuation of its use; and by the person’s willingness to sacrifice all (to the point of self-destructiveness).”

Crap. It was morning. You needed to get to the studio and quick. There was going to be a small concert in town early in the afternoon and you knew you needed to be there as early as possible so they could rehearse on time. Luckily, you still had an outfit in your chamber for this occasion and you gingerly put it on; making your exit.

Arriving just barely on time, you ran into the studio to find the room already buzzing with other stylists, staff, and the guys. You felt timid, as you always did, when you entered the room. Adrenaline was still pumping through your veins from your nightly activities but they dimmed as you entered the threshold. Nerves building as you realized you would have to see Jungkook.

Even though you knew you were securely covered, you pulled on your turtleneck collar and long sleeves of the black dress you put on. It was cute yet casual but more importantly, it served your purpose well. As you walked over to your usual station, you gathered your materials as you waited for Jungkook to make his entrance. It was odd that he was running behind. You couldn’t help but to worry since he never said goodbye to you last night.

“Y/N, I need you to do me a favor.” Kimi rushed into the dressing room and yanked Jin down into the chair as he was goofing off.

“Yah! I told you not to move too much. I’m going to have to do your hair again,” she said in a frustrated yet cute voice. Jin giggled to himself.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be still,” he turned to you and looked you over. “Noona, it’s a little warm to be wearing something like that, isn’t it?” He tried to make it seem like he was being innocent but you knew damn well that he wasn’t. You rolled your eyes at him as he smirked at you.

“I don’t have time for this, Seokjin. What do you need, Kimi? Jungkook could be here any minute.” Your friend nodded and began to tend to Jin’s hair once again.

“I know. It’ll be really quick. I left my makeup kit in the bathroom and Jin is needed first for a mic check. It’ll just be faster if you could grab it while I fix his hair. Please.” You let out a sigh as you looked at the clock.

“Okay fine. I’ll be right back.” Your friend thanked you as you hurried out of the room. You hated rushing like this but sometimes it was thrilling. It would be more thrilling if you weren’t a nervous wreck already. Once you entered the empty bathroom, you noticed the pink makeup case on the counter right away. It was easy to spot in the dark grey tiled bathroom. It was modern with a long mirror above the multiple sinks. When you grabbed the case, you heard someone else enter the room but thought nothing of it until you heard their voice.

“Noona, I need to talk to you…” Shock struck you as your heart skipped a beat. You looked up in the mirror to see his reflection; turning around instantly to face him.

“Jungkook? What the hell are you doing in here? I could get into serious trouble.” You walked over towards the door and past the taller man, peeking out the door to make sure no one possibly saw him enter the women’s bathroom. Jungkook watched your every move; studying you as he always did. When you saw that the hall was empty, you sighed in relief and closed the door. Turning to him, you looked up into his eyes with concern.

“What is so important that it couldn’t have waited until I came back to the dressing room? You know this is too risky.” The maknae reached up and grazed your cheek with the back of his index finger.

“It’s worth the risk. I needed to see you,” he said in a whisper. Before you even realized, your back was pressed against the cool door as Jungkook hovered over you. His hand trailed down your neck to pull aside your turtleneck collar. A low growl vibrated in his throat.

“This is what you do to me, Y/N. You made me lose control because I wanted to give you what you wanted…what I needed.” He bit his bottom lip, feeling his lack of control fighting to make a presence but also guilt for leaving such a dark mark on your body.

“Does it hurt,” he asked in a caring voice; soft and gentle. You turned your head, unable to look at him. Your breath came out shaky as his touch sent shivers down your spine. Your skin so fragile from the purple kiss he gave you but also because he affected you so much. Never could you admit to his touch affecting you this much.

“Why won’t you look at me,” Jungkook asked in a serious tone; masked with concern but also curiosity - a little smirk twitching on his face.

“I have nothing to say to you, Kookie. Don’t worry about me. It was a one-time thing…” At this moment, you looked him straight in the eyes; determined to make him see how serious you were.

“Nothing more.” A darkness flooded over the maknae that he couldn’t fathom. Those two words pierced through him and made his blood boil. His little smirk faded to something much colder.

“You don’t mean that,” he said bluntly. You put on a face, masking how you truly felt; which was still a very blurry line. Brushing his hand aside that was still grazing your collar, you stepped to move around him. With quick reflexes, Jungkook stuck out his arm to stop you; caging you against the wall.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t feel anything for me. After everything that happened between us last night, that you honestly don’t have feelings for me.” Jungkook looked into your eyes with determination and desperation. He searched frantically for truth behind your eyes as he engulfed you with his body. His dominant stance made you weak in the knees as he loomed over you. It took every ounce of strength you had to not cave in this moment.

“I feel nothing, Jungkook,” you said as you looked at him. You felt as if your voice may have faltered a little but perhaps it was all in your head. Jungkook tensed around you; his eyes looked you over. He was sensing something from you. He lowered his arms slowly and took a minor step back.

“Prove it,” he said as he watched you. You raised your eyebrow at his stance.

“This isn’t a game. I’m being serious. What are you doing?” Jungkook subconsciously palmed himself slightly and looked into your eyes.

“I’m giving you what you want. I know you want it, just as much as I do,” he said as he looked over your frame. Your dress hugged your curves in a way that drove him internally insane.

“J-Jung-”

“You’re stuttering my name already and I haven’t even touched you yet.” Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s knee brush against yours and separating your legs. As he licks his lips, he reaches for the hem of your dress and slides his fingers into your damp panties. Your instincts tell you to protest but your body and heart tell you to shut up and enjoy the ride. Jungkook’s fingers shimmy into your folds and massaged your swollen core so eagerly. The second he got a moan from you, just from his touch, he slithered his fingers against your entrance and stroked you. A smirk graced his face.

“I knew you would be this wet. Face it, Y/N. You want me. I don’t know why you’re denying it. I made you scream and moan so much last night. I know you enjoyed it.” His two forefingers slide into your slick entrance and massaged your walls. He curled his fingers into your g-spot but didn’t go crazy just yet. You leaned your head forward and let out a breathy moan.

“Fuck, Jungkook….” The sensation was unreal. His fingers were a work of art and he was painting you like a canvas. He bit his bottom pink lip and watched your eyes shut tightly from the stimulation as you leaned your head back against the wall.

“That’s right, baby. I want you to say my name,” he closed the gap between you to place his lips by your ear; his hot breath giving you goosebumps. Your hands moved up to his broad shoulders and gripped tightly, digging your fingertips into the clothed skin.

“Prove to me just how little you feel for me,” he whispered before picking up the pace. The knot in the pit of your stomach dropped to your core like a bombshell waiting to explode. His lean fingers hit the back of your center as if he was trying to memorize the feel of the muscle. As you bit your bottom lip to keep from screaming, Jungkook pulled out just enough to add a third finger…then four. Your eyes shot open and you practically slammed your head forward so you could bite his shoulder. Your loud cries muffled against his skin, making the fabric wet from your spit as your teeth indented his skin.

Suddenly, Jungkook removed his fingers with low growl under his breath. When you looked up at him with hooded eyes, trying to catch your breath, there was something on his face that was different. Desperation. Hunger. Insanity.

“No. I need to fuck you. I need to cum inside of you, Y/N….” and there it was, all three - desperation, hunger, and insanity. Jungkook’s need to make you cum was just as strong as his need to cum with you, inside of you. His words struck a chord in you, making you hotter than he already made you feel. Your guard quickly faded and you licked your lips.

“Do it. Fuck me. Just do something,” you begged. Never had you begged in such a needy way but this was how he affected you. Pleased by your demand, Jungkook hurried to free his enraged cock from his jeans. It was throbbing as the tip was a deep shade of pink. Breathing heavily through his mouth as adrenaline dilated his pupils, he hooked his wet fingers under the waistband of your panties and yanked them down to your ankles. He lifted your dress far enough to see your exposed ass; the insides glistening with your juices.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he stuttered. Jungkook was a mess between feeling nervous, and eager - his cockiness completely leaving him. You turned your head slightly over your shoulder to look at him. The moment you catch sight of his beautiful cock, the thought doesn’t even phase you.

“I’m on the pill. It’s fine just-” You cut off your words as you reach your arm back to grab a hold of his hip and ease back onto his erection. Your walls and entrance are as wet as his length is rigidly hard, you’re able to slide perfectly onto him. Both of your moans simultaneously fill the air.

“Ahhh…just like that,” you moaned as he filled you.

Jungkook’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he already missed the feel of you. He grabbed a hold of your hips and gripped tightly as he starts pounding into you like a jackhammer. His length yet again fills you as if it were meant for you - massaging your walls so perfectly in a frenzied rhythm. Feeling the need to see you come undone, Jungkook shifts you so that you’re facing the sinks and mirrors lining the opposite wall. You looked ahead and already felt embarrassment brightening your cheeks.

“J-Jungkook…” He could hear the protest in your voice and bit his lip. You tried to cover your face to keep from watching yourself, even though curiosity was getting the best of you. Jungkook shook his head in the middle of grunts as he was still fucking you. He reached around to grab a hold of your wrists and pulled them behind your back to keep you from hiding. Not that you were complaining because the new position somehow adding more stimulation and it almost made you scream. You pierced your lips to keep from doing so, remembering that you were in a public restroom still.

“Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, pro list,” Jungkook let out another groan, “I remembered your list well, remember. I know you want to watch me fucking you.” Fuck, fuck. His words made you look up at the mirror. He was right. The sight of seeing him ram into you, smacking his hips against you as he thrusted into your g-spot was such a beautiful sight. To get him to shut up for being so damn cocky, you clenched your walls around him.

“Fuck,” he hissed as a bark. A smirk graced your lips as you did it over and over. Two could play at this game.

“Y/N stop,” he warned. You could feel him somehow get harder inside of you. As you gasped and moaned, trying to chase your orgasm, you tried to focus on his as well.

“What’s the matter, Kookie? Are you going to cum for me,” you asked in a cocky tone. Just as you started to giggle quietly, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around your throat and pulled you up against his chest; his other arm wrapped around the front of your stomach. His lips grazed your ear as he panted from his never ending thrusts.

A sharp gasp passed through your lips from the aggressive move that only turned you on more. Your pussy throbbed and pulsed around him as he spiked the inevitable orgasm that he was about to give you.

“And you’re going to cum with me,” he whispered, “now.” And in that moment, as if he had full control over your body, your orgasm hit you wave after wave. He had to cover your mouth as you couldn’t contain the decadent sounds streaming from your lips. Jungkook squeezed his eyes together and let out a whiny moan as he exploded inside of you. As his cock surfaced to your entrance and back inside of you, the mix of your juices came out and slowly trickled down your legs.

No extra stimulation. No use of his tongue. No fingers on your clit. Just his cock with his hand around your throat and whispered demands in your ear that gave you the high that was higher than anything you’ve ever experienced. Your body went lax against him and his strong arms caught you.

“It’s okay. I got you,” he whispered sweetly; just as he did the night before. Your moans faded to faint little whimpers. The sweet man pulled out of you and lifted you in one swoop to carry you over to the sink.

“Well aren’t you charming,” you said in a low voice as a soft smile appeared on your face. Jungkook couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Need I remind you, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said as he sat you down, meeting your gaze, “and I fully intend on you finding out.” His words silenced you and you became timid. He just doesn’t give up, does he, you thought to yourself. Jungkook grabbed a towel and wet it to clean you just as there was a knock on the locked door.

“Y/N, are you still in there?! I needed my makeup box 10 minutes ago!” Kimi’s frustrated voice vibrated against the door and it made you laugh lightly.

“Oh yeah…I knew I came in here for something.” Jungkook grinned, feeling proud, as he finished cleaning your legs and sensitive core. He finished wiping you down and looked at you with softer eyes than before. It seemed as if his eyes were practically black before but now they were a beautiful shade of dark brown; gentle and sweet. He leaned forward and kissed you softly on the lips before helping you put your underwear back on. He then proceeded to zip up his pants and straighten his shirt - handsome as ever.

You watched his every move as he took care you of you so tenderly. It made your heart skip a beat. Jungkook was so…nurturing and romantic with you yet a complete beast just moments ago. It didn’t make sense to you but it intrigued you. Slowly, he helped you down off the counter and handed you the makeup box.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Jungkook flashed you his signature flirty smile with sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. There was another knock on the door.

“Y/N, come on! I know you’re still in there. What the hell is taking so long?” Kimi’s voice was high pitched and annoying but you understood her frustration. That’s when your nerves hit.

“You have to stay back so they don’t-”

“I know. I’ll wait a minute before leaving after you. Go ahead and go. I’ll see you in the dressing room.” Jungkook kissed you on the cheek before you could open your mouth to reply. You looked at him in confusion. Had he done something like this before, you wondered. He seemed so calm about all of this; like it was normal.

“Go,” he said with a slight laugh under a whisper; pushing you subtly towards the door. Gaining your composure, you brushed your dress down and headed towards the door. Jungkook made sure to stay out of sight as you opened the door ever so slightly to ease out to escape. Kimi was right in front of the door and backed up when you walked out of the bathroom. You held up the box for her and smiled innocently. She took it with a huff.

“If I knew you were going to take forever, I would have gotten it myself,” she said in an annoyed voice, “What took you so long anyways?” A string of lies marched in your head until the perfect one surfaced.

“Uhh…that time of the month, sorry.” Your friend looked at you as if she wanted to question you but she brushed it off. Instead, she hooked arms with you and dragged you away towards the dressing room.

“Well let’s hurry before Jungkook shows up. They’re up in like 15 minutes,” she commented. Which made you look back towards the bathroom as the door still remained shut - knowing he was still in there waiting.

“Right…”

Everything seemed so casual and nonchalant. Jungkook made a couple of glances your way as you applied his makeup and styled his hair, but not more so than usual. Although you did notice that he kept clenching his fists every now and then - struggling to keep from touching you still. Once the boys left for their little concert, you felt like you could breathe again. All you knew was that you needed to think and clear your head.

When you got home later that day, you stripped your clothes and decided to take a nice, hot bath. As you stood naked in front of the mirror, that’s when you noticed just how many bruises you were covered in. So many different shades of purples and reds, even yellow. To anyone else, they may have seemed horrifying but to you, they were precious memories.

Your delicate fingers traced over them lightly as you remembered his touch; reminiscing every moan and pleasured feeling he gave you yesterday and today. When you met your gaze back up to the mirror, you frowned slightly. No. You’re supposed to forget about him. Never are you supposed to fall for a client, let alone someone you work for as well.

This was supposed to be a one time thing and somehow, he was able to break through a barrier you have perfected over the months in this profession. A barrier that you created so that you didn’t fall for your clients; it was a security measure. Some of your clients were quite attractive; men that you would absolutely date - others not so much. Jeon Jungkook was a fantasy - nothing more.

Once you cleanse yourself with sweet smelling soap, you got ready for bed. Wearing a plain grey tank top and cotton shorts; pure comfort. The sun had already fallen and the moon had risen. You haven’t been sleeping well and after your recent activities, you knew you could easily pass out. When you finally reached your bed, your skin hit the sheets in the most soothing way. The silky material made your legs feel like jello. It pried a purred sigh out of you as you nestled into your safe haven.

It wasn’t long before you were able to fall asleep once you closed your eyes. It wasn’t often that you went to bed so early but your body clearly needed it - at least you thought. At the time you fell into a dreamlike state, it was roughly 8pm. When you awoke next, it was 3am. The air was silent and the moon was bright in the clear, dark sky. You felt refreshed but you were definitely still tired enough to fall back asleep for another hour or two. As you stretched your arms, you felt something warm beside you and became alert. You sat up quickly to take a look and you found a man’s body sleeping comfortably beside you. Jungkook’s body.

“Jungkook,” you asked out loud in shock. The maknae stirred subtly and wrapped his arm around your torso as if to pull you closer. You stiffened under his touch.

“Go back to sleep, baby. It’s just me,” he said in a raspy, tired voice. His eyes were already seemingly puffy; his lips swollen in a pout. How long had he been sleeping here like this?

“Jungkook, no. Get up. What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in here?” Jungkook let out a sigh and looked up at you innocently as he continued to rest his head on one of your pillows. His features were so tired, worn, and exhausted; yet soft and fragile.

“Please…just one more hour. I’m so tired and it’s so comfortable here,” he begged in a whisper; still half asleep. He pulled you close and you reluctantly followed to lay beside him like he wanted without saying so.

“I…”

“Please…It’s been such a long day,” he asked again through tired eyes. You let out a breath, wanting to protest again but your nurturing side kicked in. You knew how hard the boys worked and after a day of concert and who knows what else, you knew very well that he was probably beyond spent. Feeling defeated, you softened in his grasp and decided to play along.

“What time do you need to be back,” you asked sweetly. Jungkook was already starting to fall asleep again.

“Just one more hour,” he mumbled softly before drifting back to sleep. The sweet boy had succumb to his slumber and was breathing slowly once again. You looked him over and couldn’t help but to brush his hair soothingly. A soft hum vibrated in his throat. There was something so innocent about him even though his features were so broad and masculine - something you had a weak spot for when it came to Jungkook.

Shaking your head, you nestled beside him and faced him; curling your arms against your chest and laying your leg gently over his. The position was perfect somehow as if you’ve done this with him before. You took your finger and moved the dark brown strand that had fallen over his eye. Having him in your bed made sense somehow. No. It felt like home.

“Fucking hell….” You whispered under your breath so you didn’t wake him. The question lingered on your tongue and you were scared to say it out loud. Even though he was asleep and he couldn’t hear you, you had to breathe the words in hopes that the answer would come to you.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Jungkook?” But it didn’t -

----------------------------

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nctinfo · 5 years

Text

[TRANS] WayV’s interview with Leon Young July 2019 issue!

Their musical style changes frequently, sometimes extremely gentle and loving, sometimes explosive and fiery. The seven boys are like seven completely different gems, difficult to gather in the first place, and yet still able to radiate a unique and harmonious light, invoking surprise and curiosity.

KUN | Capricorn leader, full points for his leadership

Blood type: B Star sign: Capricorn Favourite food: Beef Favourite music genre: R&B I am Qian Kun, a treasure boy, waiting for you to unearth.

Qian Kun, who yearned for the skies since young, has a hobby for researching on planes, collecting model planes and also playing flying games. “I especially like to sit on the plane, every time we travel by plane I will take videos of the clouds in the skies through the small circular window.” Other than being a singer, Qian Kun’s biggest dream is to be a pilot. In WayV’s newest single <Dream Launch>’s MV, he could experience his “space obsession” —— traveling through space and time with the wormhole, and launching his dreams towards outer space.

As the leader, he can’t be this imaginative every day. In the team, all seven boys have distinctly different personalities, so collecting everyone’s different opinions, and bringing all the members closely together, will be impossible without impressive leadership capabilities. “Teamwork” is WayV’s team spirit, and Qian Kun is everyone’s “gege” that they admire and listen to.

Kun is very good at writing lyrics and composing, and when asked where his inspiration comes from, his words were quite shocking —— when he’s showering. “Often when I’m showering, a melody will suddenly appear in my head. I will then quickly rush out of the bathroom in a bathrobe and use the fastest speed to record the melody in my phone.”

Q: When did you realize you have a talent in music? A: When I was young, I would participate in the singing competition in our school every year, and would get first place every time.

Q: Who is your favourite singer? A: Jay Chou, I’ve liked listening to his songs since I was in the first year of primary school.

TEN | Be careful! The smiling eyes are electric

Blood type: A Star sign: Pisces Favourite food: Rice cake Favourite music genre: R&B I am TEN, born for the stage.

Born in Bangkok, TEN particularly loves Chinese traditional food. His favourite is rice cake, soy bean milk, youtiao (fried dough), and lamb skewers. Every type of food brings him a different surprise, and makes him say “wow, this is good!” every bite he takes.

When TEN was studying Mandarin, the other members were available to be his personal “language teacher”, so he improved at an incredible speed. Other than that, TEN has his own study tips as well, which is to learn Mandarin via watching Chinese variety shows. His favourites are <Running Man>, <Our Brilliant Masters>, and <Back To Field>.

TEN’s explosive dancing is one of the highlights of a WayV stage. He looks very gentle when he smiles, but is shockingly powerful when he moves. TEN says that he mainly trains two aspects of dancing: the first is physical strength, the second is the details of the choreography. He spends at least an hour in the practice room every day doing push-ups and planking, amongst others, then practices specific dance moves after completing physical training. Because perfect movements must have good muscle control as a foundation.

Q: What is your favourite sport? A: Badminton.

Q: How have your parents supported you in your career? A: They respect my decisions very much, and let me freely do what I like to do.

WINWIN | Dancing elf, more charming the more you appreciate

Blood type: B Star sign: Scorpio Favourite food: Shrimp Favourite music genre: R&B I am WINWIN, a guy that gets more and more charming the more you look at me.

“I’m slightly introverted, but others in the team always bring me lots of joy, so I feel like I’ve been ‘opened’ by them.” Though WINWIN appears to be mysterious and cold, he’s actually very soft-hearted. His favourite thing to do is to watch movies, listen to songs, and chat with his fellow members in the dorm.

WayV has a tradition of watching a movie together in the dorms every week. They would discuss the plot after the movie and share their own thoughts and realizations. Additionally, they also regularly hold “meetings” to share their own worries with other members, while providing suggestions to others. WINWIN likes to turn off the lights and light some candles when this is going on, creating a relaxed atmosphere around everyone.

From the time he was a primary 5 student, WINWIN studied traditional Chinese dance. Years of dance background gave every move he makes a sense of calmness and elegance. Dance has a priceless meaning to WINWIN, “it is the basis of my everything, dance is what brought me here today.”

Q: Which song from the new album do you like the best? A: <Let me love u>, it’s a love song from us to the fans.

Q: Which of your facial features are you most satisfied with? A: Eyes. The outer corner of my eye tilts up slightly, and seem to have a classical beauty.

LUCAS | Clever and mischievous, imaginative and unrestricted.

Blood type: O Star sign: Aquarius Favourite food: Apples Favourite music genre: The quietest music and the most explosive music I am LUCAS, thank you to all the people who like me, you’re all really cute!

“Comparing before and after I joined WayV, the biggest change I made was learning how to take care of my younger brothers.” LUCAS says he used to always have the image of a “younger brother”, but after joining the team and facing members younger than he is, he naturally upgraded to become others’ “older brother”, and knew more about how to understand and help others.

At 183cm, LUCAS has a tall and straight figure. Coupled with big eyes that seem to be able to speak, his features make fans swoon. LUCAS, as someone who has lots of visuals and even more style, has been nicknamed a “walking poster”. When asked about his method of selecting and matching clothes, he has much to say, “we have to first understand our body before we can better match our clothes, and not just follow the trends.” He thinks colorful clothes can help add colour to the city, and if everyone can wear their own style, then the whole city will have a unique style to it.

Aquarian LUCAS always comes up with strange ideas, for example, he says that when he listens to music, he can not only hear the melody and rhythm of the song itself, but also the feelings of the composer and lyricist, and even how the drummer looks when they drum on the backing track. He also frequently lies down on the carpet to think about “the difficult questions in life”, like “the fans do so much for us, what should I do to let them feel our love too?” What is the answer? It is very simple, and also very pure - make even better music, which makes them happy after listening to it.

Q: What is your biggest wish lately? A: For WayV to hold their own concert, and interact with the fans with no distance between us.

Q: What would you like to remind the fans of? A: Eat more fruits, you can absorb many natural vitamins, which is more effective and healthier than taking vitamin tablets!

XIAOJUN | Honey voice, difficult to forget

Blood type: B Star sign: Leo Favourite food: Sour candy Favourite music genre: Ballad I want to be magic, I want to be bigger than I am.

“Take Off” is XIAOJUN’s favourite from the new album, “Even if I have no wings, I still want to fly, courage is needed to face your dreams. This is similar to my current state of mind.”XIAOJUN’s voice is not one to be easily forgotten, it’s crisp and hoarse, yet soft and dense; it’s fine, and gentle - he’s referred to by the fans as “honey voiced”.

XIAOJUN has been obsessed with music ever since he was a child, and usually likes to quietly practice singing by himself. Even though he is now a member of an idol group, and has to frequently face many busy announcements and tough rehearsals, he still persists in at least three hours of vocal practice every day. How does he protect his “honey vocals”, then? XIAOJUN has his own good practices, of course. “I drink a glass of honey water when I get up every morning, this can reduce heatiness, and moisten the throat.

”Though skilled, XIAOJUN admits that he is very nervous before meeting fans. Not long ago, WayV participated in Hunan Television’s “Happy Together”. When shooting the episode, many WayV fans went to the location of the shoot to support them. “Even though I look calm and collected, my heart is beating wildly. But on that day, the moment the curtains opened, I saw many fans holding boards with our names on them, heard them screaming and shouting our names, and only then did I really calm down.”

As someone who newly debuted, XIAOJUN thinks that luck was most important in him becoming a member of WayV, and that it was intended by the heavens. But he still wants to tell the juniors who carry their dreams and want to debut that, “you cannot lack in luck, but behind luck, you have to have an extraordinary amount of hard work. Luck will only find you when you transform your talents into skills.”

Q: Your eyelashes are long and curled, what’s your secret? A: Actually, you don’t have to take extra care, just use warm water to clean everyday, and don’t rub roughly when you wash your face.

Q: Amongst life’s sourness, sweetness, bitterness, spiciness, and saltiness, which is your favourite flavour? A: Sourness, it gives the tastebuds a curious feeling.

HENDERY | Curious BOY, always “unlocking” new skills

Blood type: O Star sign: Libra Favourite food: Chicken feet with fermented black soy bean paste Favourite music genre: Hippop I am HENDERY, who likes the colour pink.

HENDERY has a new wish recently, and that is to learn to play the jazz drums. He’s roommates with TEN. One night, he unknowingly started to play a beat as TEN sat on his bed and played the guitar. So TEN told him, “you can learn to play the drums, then we can perform together.” This sentence ignited a small flame in HENDERY’s heart, so he resolved to learn to play the jazz drums and was unstoppable afterward. He would go online to watch tutorials on jazz drums when he was free, and frequently forgets to eat because he was so absorbed.

HENDERY always likes to try new things. For example, before joining WayV, he didn’t frequently have hotpot, but was influenced by everyone and loves hotpot like no other now! Whether Hong Kong-style, Sichuan-style, or Chongqing-style, if it’s hotpot, he likes it! “If we have time, we go out to have hotpot twice a week! And it’s seven of us together every time!”

Looking back at his biggest change since debut, HENDERY thinks that his stage experience has become more diverse. He used to focus on the training itself but rarely paid attention to showcasing on stage. However, recently, he frequently finds and watches past performances by the group to re-assess himself on stage from a fan’s perspective. For example, when watching these videos, he would find that at one beat where he focused on a body angle, the camera was focusing on facial expressions instead - amongst his replays, HENDERY keeps working hard to find the best feeling on stage.

Q: The fans call you “Disney prince”, what do you think about that? A: Thank you all~ But I don’t want to be just a “prince”, I would instead like to showcase different sides of myself in songs.

Q: What do you hope for WayV’s future? A: I hope more people listen to our music, watch our dancing, that’s all.

YANGYANG | The most doted on by the group, the maknae is very busy

Blood type: O Star sign: Libra Favourite food: Hotpot Favourite music genre: melody RAP I am YANGYANG, easy-going offstage, perfectionist onstage, this is my “duality”.

As the “maknae” of the team, YANGYANG is the recepient of much love, and is always taken care of by the other members. “Uh…I am indeed a little mischievous sometimes, like when I purposely wake others when they sleep, but they never get angry at me.” WayV haven’t debuted for long, but they have completely become family from brothers, always looking out for one another. For example, when everybody goes out to eat, they would always ask the youngest brother what he wanted to have, then everybody would go according to what he liked.

The fans’ warm-hearted actions frequently touch YANGYANG deeply. Sometimes, when a new song has just been released, the fans still sing the song with them word for word at live performances. “They must have listened to it many, many times, this makes me feel really warm.”

<Say It> from the new album makes YANGYANG particularly excited, as it is the work of renowned band London Noise. YANGYANG has been a huge fan of London Noise since he was a child, and this time, he was able to sing what his idols made for him, so it’s a dream come true!

Q: Other than music, what is your biggest interest? A: I love car racing, my dad and I would go go-karting every weekend when I was little, I really like the feeling of a competition.

Q: Why is it that you can maintain a perfect body while loving to eat hotpot? A: Sorry, I just can’t gain weight, haha. But I usually workout to maintain my strength too.

Translation: Jess, Seol @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: Leon Young — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

#NCT #wayv #kun #ten #winwin #lucas #hendery #xiaojun #yangyang #t:interview #t:trans #Leon Young #Leon Young: July 2019

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meleuki · 5 years

Text

Unexpected

Axl Rose x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 3,200+

A/N: Here is the Axl Rose Smut that I've been writing for ages. Lemme know if there is anything I can improve on! Enjoy!

I could faintly hear the screams of the crowd behind me. I ran through the halls of backstage, searching for the dressing rooms of Guns n Roses. I'd been there just earlier, maybe two or three hours ago, but it seemed that every minute that ticked by slowly made the halls surrounding the concert stage into a rabbit warren of rock n roll.

There were a few girls standing here and there, either smoking or drinking, their stocking clad legs open to the point where it got in the way of the stage crew who had to rush around trying to make sure nothing bad happened to the band during the show. I sighed as I rushed past the groupies, ignoring their disgusted sneering as my heavy boots stomped against the ground.

I'd been ready to leave not long ago, packing my van with all the tools and make-up I'd brought along for the boys. Each had their own box, their own supply of face paint. It was then that I realised I had completely forgotten Axl's make-up box in his dressing room. The red-haired man had been flirting with me the entire time I'd touched up his face. I'd thought it would only take 15 minutes or so, but it had ended up taking at least half an hour. I'd spent more time snarling at the rock star to keep his hands off my legs than applying powder to his face, and I had eventually given up and left the room, completely forgetting the box of make-up I had brought in.

I sighed as I finally reached his door, ignoring the 'keep out' and 'do not enter' signs. Luckily for me, I'd been given a key to the dressing rooms in case of moments like this. I slid the key that hung from a lanyard around my neck into the lock, turning until I heard the familiar click of the door. I was immediately greeted by the smell of cigarette smoke as I walked into the large room. My eyes falling on two girls sitting on Axl's couch, sucking on a cancer stick each, emitting the smoke that had clouded up the whole room.

I stopped in my tracks as the two groupies turned to me, confusion in their eyes, maybe a small amount of jealousy too.

I pointed at them, "Out." and then the door, "Get the fuck out."

One of them began blubbering as they stood up, "But Axl told us to wait here until he got back from the show—!"

I held my hand out, cutting her off as I marched further into the room, my boots slapping against the carpet with every step. The metal pins and chains that I had attached to the leather shoes smacked together, creating the distinct sound of metal on metal.

"I don't give a fuck what Axl said! I said, get out!" I yelled, taking a step towards them and basking in the way they flinched at my sudden movements.

I watched as they scrambled, nodding quickly, mumbling apologies as their barely covered assets disappeared through the dressing room door. I sighed, placing my hand on my forehead as another stress fueled headache rushed through me. I groaned, searching the room for the make-up case through my pain, the one and the only reason I had come back into the hell pit people called backstage in the first place.

"Wow, I never thought I'd see you bent over like that." Axl's deep voice cut through the air. My eyes closed as I took a deep breath in through my nose, preparing myself to turn around and see the red-headed man.

"Fuck you, Axl." I groaned, standing up slowly and turning to face him with a glare on my face.

"Two little ladies down the hall told me you shoved them out of here." Axl chuckled, wiping an already damp towel over his sweaty forehead. His eyes were glazed over, probably the effect of all the adrenaline he'd built up on stage.

I grunted, beginning to look around the room again. I couldn't stand being back here any longer, especially alone in a room with Axl. I could feel his eyes on me as I searched for my tools, roaming my body like I was some piece of meat.

I snapped my head around, eyes narrowing to slits as they connected with Axl's, "You mistake me for what I am not Mr Rose, I am no slut."

"And I don't expect you to act like one Miss (L/N)." Axl's soft tone surprised me, and I began to let my tense body relax under his gaze. His eyes were green, so green. They looked like one of those rivers that you would find hidden in the woods, his eyes shone like the water's surface. I could almost smell the earth around me as I stared at him.

I let out a sigh before taking a deep breath in through my nose, "I'm getting lost in your eyes." I admitted composedly.

"And yet, two minutes ago you were ready to punch me in the face," Axl smiled sadly, "I don't understand you (Y/N)."

"I don't understand myself, Mr Rose," I spoke formally, detaching my gaze from him. I grunted uncomfortably as I moved to the beaten up couch. There had probably been many nights where people had puked, split alcohol or even had sex right where I sat, but it was the most comfortable thing in that shitty room for the time being.

"Why do you... call me that?" Axl furrowed his eyebrows as he walked over to his make-up bench, running his hand through his red hair, "Mr Rose~."

Axl dragged out the name, smirking at the way it sounded in his mouth. I could tell by the way he smiled that all he had in his head was those filthy thoughts. Thoughts of me screaming out his name, maybe even calling him 'Mr Rose', like it was some sort of symbol, phrase, calling of the power he possessed over me. I'd even begun to think about it too.

I'd been doing his make-up earlier that day, I'd tried so hard to inhale the smell of him. The same thoughts I was having, now invading my mind like some sort of lustful disease. He smelt so damn good, mouth-watering and intoxicating, like a mix of home-baked cookies and cigarettes. It was the most addictive thing my sense of smell had ever picked up on, blessing me with the aroma of Sir Axl Rose.

I unconsciously drew a deep breath in through my nose. My legs crossed as my own head began reeling with intrusive thoughts, just like the ones I'd had earlier tonight. I shut my eyes, sighing as I let the dirty scenes play behind my eyelids. Moans and whimpers echoed in my brain, thrumming in my ears like a rhythmic drum beat, slowly speeding up until the song reached its climax. It played like a highlight reel.

"Because I work for you, it's formal," I answered, straightening my neck and readjusting the slouched position my body had fallen into during my seconds away in fantasy.

"You of all people should know that shit doesn't matter to me." Axl chuckled, lighting a cigarette as he leaned against the make-up counter, his knuckles going pale-white as he gripped the edges of the wooden surface with his sweaty hands. I could see something beginning to surface inside his eyes as he looked at me, taking long drags of his cigarette.

I stood up timidly, keeping my eyes locked on Axl's as I began to walk towards him. Every step I took was cautious, wondering if he would turn away or break out of the burning gaze we were both trapped in.

It didn't take long before I had reached him, my hands delicately taking a hold of the front of his sweat-stained t-shirt. I let out a shaky breath as we continued to stare at each other. All I could smell was the smoke of the cigarette that hung out of the singer's mouth, oozing a grey river of toxicity. I missed the smell of him.

"What're you doing?" Axl mumbled, removing the white stick from his mouth before shoving it onto an ashtray clumsily. His hands shook slightly as they came back to his sides, not knowing whether or not to touch me just yet.

"I'm not entirely sure," I whispered, bringing my lips closer to his, so close I could feel his breath tickling over the chapped skin.

"Then, um - are you sure you should be doing it?" Axl's voice lowered to match mine, his hands finally finding their way to my body and resting on my waist as the question rose up from his parched throat.

The question lingered in the air for a few moments and all that could be heard was our wavering breaths, uneven and rapid as our unspoken need for each other grew with each passing moment.

"Not at all." I sighed, pressing my body into Axl's, basking in the way his hands tightened their hold on me like he was restraining himself from taking me right then and there.

I decided I couldn't wait any longer and I smashed my lips against his. It was a fiery kiss, fueled by how long we had waited to make such an intimate connection. Axl's hands travelled from my waist and down to my ass, squeezing the muscle in his palms, shoving me further into him. I could feel his growing need against my leg, warm tingles spread through my body at the thought that he was getting hot and heavy for me, just like I was for him.

Axl’s lips travelled down from my lips to my neck, attaching themselves to the soft skin. I felt his teeth dig into me, pulling the skin into his mouth before licking it and letting it go. It was a constant movement of teeth and tongue against my neck as I moaned out for him, clasping his shirt tightly inside my fisted hands. My own nails had begun to dig into the palms of my hands, leaving crescent-shaped marks imprinted in the clammy skin.

When Axl brought his gaze back to mine his eyes were glazed, breathing laboured as he studied my eyes.

“I need to know you’re sure,” Axl spoke solemnly, his hand reaching up to caress my flushed cheeks. He slowly brushed my hair behind my ear, placing a light kiss against the curve of my jaw.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I’m sure I want it.” I sighed as Axl connected his lips with mine again, sliding one of his hands to the front of my shorts and popping the button undone, quickly followed by unzipping the zipper. How could one man be so seductive?

His hand slipped past the elastic of my panties, slowly inching his way towards my core. His fingers dipped inside my folds, collecting the wetness I'd produced for him on his fingertips. I sighed at the contact, pressing my breasts into his chest, noticing the way his eyes focused on them for a few seconds before he turned to kiss me again.

This time he slid his tongue into my mouth, licking a line along the top row of my teeth, before massaging the pink muscle against my own. I felt him hum into the kiss as he moved his fingers up my slit until they rested on my swollen clit. He slowly began to massage the bundle of nerves, eliciting small gasps of pleasure from the confines of my lungs. The air around us was getting hotter by the second, waves of heat washing over both of us as we got lost in each other’s bodies. The room seemed hazy as Axl dragged his hand out of my pants, bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning up the mess I’d made.

Axl’s hands snaked their way around my waist, hoisting me up into his embrace as he walked us over to the couch. We both fell onto the old material with haste, wasting no time in scrambling to get to the opposite sex’s body. Our clothes were thrown across the room, long forgotten as our night continued on. The sweet smell of sex lingered around us, swallowing us whole as we dived for each other, lips making messy contact, teeth clashing harshly. Neither of us seemed to care, completely dismissing the pain as it came.

I swung my legs over Axl’s lap, straddling him. I groaned as he pressed his fingers into my hips, taking advantage of the new position and grinding his boxer-clad crotch into me. The feeling was euphoric, finally, some friction where I needed it most. My tits bounced along with the movements of Axl’s hips, creating some sort of rhythm for both of us. We probably looked like wild animals going at it, but the pleasure was too great to care, I just needed his body on mine and everything would be okay.

“Oh fuck,” Axl rasped, wrapping an arm around my waist and repositioning us, “goddamn.”

Axl swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, hydrating the swollen skin. I could basically feel the bruises on my lips already, slowly forming due to how rough our kisses had been. Axl’s hand were moving all over my body, caressing my thighs and hips. The calluses on his hands provided me with a rough texture to melt into, a feeling I’d never known but was happy to indulge myself in. His mouth was a killer, attaching itself to my perky nipples every so often, biting and swirling his tongue around the pink buds.

I slipped my hand past the waistband of Axl's boxers, teasingly brushing my fingertips against the hard tip of his cock. Axl’s jaw tightened at the unexpected feeling of pleasure, lips falling slightly apart. I ran my thumb over his leaking slit a couple of times before wrapping my fingers around the base of his member, beginning to stroke slowly. Quiet whimpers fell from his lips, rolling out of his mouth and into the space surrounding us, getting swallowed completely by the need pouring out of each of our pores. I rubbed Axl painfully slow, teasing him as much as I could before it got too much for us both.

Axl brought his lips up to meet my own hastily. I could taste his need as he kissed me, a silent beg for me to do something more, and I agreed without words, none were needed. My hands worked quickly at pulling Axl’s boxers down his thighs, eventually sliding them over his knees. I let out a small chuckle as Axl kicked the boxers of his feet, resting his hands on my hips with a small smirk.

I repositioned myself on top of Axl, getting into a comfortable position. I pressed my forehead against him, feeling how hot with anticipation he was getting. My hands slid their way to his shoulders as I began lowering myself onto him. A loud moan escaped my throat as I sunk down on his throbbing cock completely, clenching around him. Axl furrowed his eyebrows, a sharp intake of breath following soon after. My eyes fluttered shut as I tilted my head back at the feeling that I hadn’t experienced in so long, too long.

Axl began to move his hips upwards, testing the waters. I nodded at him as a signal that he could move as fast as he wanted, catching my bottom lip between my teeth as he picked up his pace significantly. My hips were surely going to be bruised tomorrow, as Axl was gripping them like they were his life support, guiding me as I bounced on top of him. I could feel my hands tightening around Axl’s shoulders, digging my nails into the pale flesh, hard enough to leave crescent marks for a few days after this encounter.

In the back of my mind, I hoped this wouldn’t simply be a one-time thing. I could feel myself slowly falling in love with this man as he fucked me. His hips rolling upwards to meet mine in a flurry of frenzied thrusts. I moved one of my hands up to Axl’s face, cupping his cheek in my hand as I stared down at him, uncontrolled moans leaving my lips. Axl looked up from where we were connected, his green eyes alone making me shiver in pleasure. His thrusts slowed down as we looked at each other, getting lost in the feelings of emotion-fueled sex - the best kind.

Axl’s hands shifted on my body as he moved to lay me down against the couch, staying inside me as we moved. My back rested on the cushions of the old couch as Axl slowly moved between my legs again, his hips bucking into me. My back arched slowly at the feeling of how deep he was inside me. I wrapped my arms around Axl’s neck, bringing his lips down to meet mine in a slow kiss. His hips rotated at a much slower pace than before, savouring every feeling that he was receiving and giving. My fingers tangled themselves in his hair, playing with the strawberry blonde strands. Axl’s thrusts were deep and hard, timed just right.

Axl’s eyes met mine again, passion exuding from the pale green orbs. I felt the air change once again, something sparking between both of us.

“Faster,” I whispered out, clutching Axl’s hair in my fists, “faster.”

Axl complied, immediately bucking his hips at twice the speed he was going beforehand, faster than when we had first started. My eyes rolled into the back of my head at the insane rush of dopamine that released inside my brain, making my body go into overdrive as it twitched in pleasure. Axl groaned out as he worked towards his orgasm, fingers dancing across my clit, doing his best to get me there as well.

I cried out as my orgasm approached me like a race car on the track, crashing against me almost painfully. I threw my head back, gasping in pleasure as Axl’s hips began stuttering, his fingers maintaining the same pace on my bundle of nerves. Axl shouted as he too reached his climax, giving one final thrust as he finished, letting out a shout of satisfaction. I stopped Axl’s movements on my clit, my body starting to writhe with overstimulation from the contact of his fingertips.

Axl dropped his head into the crook between my neck and shoulder as we both came down from our highs, panting like we’d just run a mile. Our bodies stuck together with sweat as Axl let himself soften inside of me. I smiled as Axl brought his face out from hiding, looking into my eyes with a breathy laugh.

“I don’t think I’ve - uh, ever - um, connected with someone like… that.” Axl spoke, amusement was clear as day in his eyes.

“What, with sex?” I chuckled, watching the way Axl rolled his eyes.

“No, no,” Axl smirked at me knowingly, “you know exactly what I meant. I know you felt that too.”

I nodded, tucking some of Axl’s hair behind his ear, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I like that feeling, it was so... strong and - uh, intense.”

“Me too,” Axl sighed, pressing a kiss against my forehead as he lay down next to me, “I think it’s called love, honey.”

“I think it is, Axl.”

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