#sometimes you write scenes and instead of getting closer to being finished you realize youre further away

[emilyjunk]

I had 11 scenes of my story left and then I wrote 2 of them but now I have 13 scenes left why am I like this

[aehyei]

[𝗘𝗣 𝟭] 𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦

There was only one rule you had—don’t fall for boys who writes you songs. And then you meet Lee Jeno, the bad boy who weirdly had a habit of writing lyrics with deep meanings. You never imagined yourself that one day you’d be skipping classes with the bad boy himself, helping him with his new hit that turned out to be love song.

PAIRING : bad boy! song writer!lee jeno x class president!reader

GENRE : !high school!au, !fluff, mild !angst, !bad boy!au, !strangers to friends!au, !friends to lovers!au

WC : 5.40k

WARNINGS : has a scene of jeno being bullied, reader having a bad relationship in her past, skipping classes (be nice kids), cuss words

RECOMMENDED SONG TO LISTEN TOO : Rose (English Version) by: D.O.

TAG LIST : @keemburley @fishjellyyt @aedreamzy @sunshinedhyuck @nctlovesme @vantxx95 @ukiyoneo @nikisimpharon @ishokenmei @kristyxoxo @forhaever @kingjeno423 @furryllamas @cheezbot @glbyoon2k @valentineyun0 @luvinjeno @itsanotherme @nanamericano @my-soft-sunshine @chittaphrrrr @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @dziewoja07​ @pukupukupawpau​

AUTHOR’S NOTES : finally did this fic lmao enjoy. like, reblog and send me some feedbacks!

LAST EPISODE. | EPISODE ONE. | NEXT EPISODE.

IT WAS EXACTLY A PEACEFUL MORNING, A COUPLE OF MINUTES BEFORE LUNCH WHEN YOU REALIZED THAT THE MORNING WASN’T AS PEACEFUL AS YOU THOUGHT IT WAS.

“Why can’t any of you guys be like Y/n? She’s so responsible and polite.” Mrs. Kang eyed all of her students then sighed heavily when it still seemed like the class wasn’t interested in any of her words. Some even were asleep and didn’t even make an effort to cover themselves up. The teacher murmured something about ‘not getting paid enough for this’ before writing the lesson of the day on the board.

You, being the class president, and also a known great student, grabbed your notebook and started to take notes of the important details you knew would help you understand the parts of cells more. 

“Yah! Y/n! Can you hear me?” Your desk-mate whisper shouted, trying to get your attention. “Nope.” You chirped slightly and continued minding your business. Jung Sungchan frowned deeper and moved closer to tap your arm, “Y/nnnnn~”. You huffed silently and gave him a side glare, indicating that he had won your attention. He grinned and tapped the desk lightly, “Can you pass me your notes later after class? I promise I’ll return it immediately!”. Inhaling a sharp breath, you tried to stop yourself from cursing at the boy giving you the same cheeky smile whenever needed something from you— instead, you sighed and nodded.

Sungchan cheered a bit and thanked you before laying his head on the desk and taking his usual nap time every time it’s Mrs. Kang’s class. You wore a sour expression on your face and stared at his back for awhile before turning back to the board and writing purposely the wrong notes at your notebook for sweet payback. 

Did you feel bad? Maybe. But was it enough for you to write the correct notes? Nope. Sungchan has what’s coming at him. 

After a long boring discussion of cells, you didn’t even bother waking your desk-mate up and just left your wrong notes on his desk, leaving the classroom with a smirk on your face. It’s a good thing you already understood the lesson and didn’t need the help of notes anymore. 

“Hey, uh, Y/n! Can you help me sort out the test papers?”. Mrs. Kang called after you just about where you would enter the cafeteria.

 Of course, being class president and the most trusted student sometimes mean that you can’t eat lunch.

“S-Sure, Mrs. Kang! I would love too.” You ignored your grumbling stomach and plastered a fake smile on your teacher, following after her back to the classroom despite your hungry state.

“OUH, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME Y/N. WITHOUT YOU, I WOULDN’T HAVE FINISHED THE TEST PAPERS!” Mrs. Kang patted your head as if you were a dog and proceeded to clean up just before another class would enter. You exhaustedly glanced at the watch on your wrist and noticed how you still have five minutes before lunch ends. Sighing in relief, you decided to excuse yourself and finally fill in your empty stomach. 

“Ummm, Mrs. Kang, I would love to stay and chat with you more, but I gotta go eat lunch. I don’t mind helping, I’m free anytime!” You bowed at her politely, no, because it’s not like you have your own fucking life to take care of that’s why you love doing the teacher’s work. 

The older woman gushed at you and nodded, dismissing you, “Of course. Have a nice lunch!”. 

“I would’ve had if only I didn’t have five minutes left.” You mumbled bitterly under your breath and walked on the empty hallways since everyone was at the cafeteria, enjoying their lunch break. Well, it was empty up until you saw a boy getting beaten up by some gang near the lockers. Panic enveloped you as your eyes widened. 

“H-Hey! Stop that!” You screamed and ran towards them, still ignoring your poor growling stomach. 

“Wow, look who’s here~! Kim Y/n, the little good student defending the loser, Lee Jeno.” Sejun smirked. His bitchy girlfriend, Eunji was tucked under his right arm as she giggled in an annoying high pitch voice and popped her strawberry lollipop in her boyfriend’s mouth. Utterly disgusted and also regretting on why you just got yourself involved with the school’s bully, you gagged a little in your mouth and looked behind them to find five more other guys who were gawking at you. 

Then you looked down on the floor to see a bruised Lee Jeno, clutching his guitar tightly until his knuckles were white. He didn’t even spare you a glance and continued having some sort of staring contest with the dirty ground. 

“W-Well Sejun,” you coughed awkwardly and crossed your arms across your chest to look tough, “you only have for about 3 minutes before Mrs. Kang goes out of the classroom and see that you beaten up Jeno. I suggest to run away now with your girlfriend and minions if you don’t want to have two weeks of detention.”

Eunji stared at you in disgust and scoffed, “Who are you to tell us what to do? Your just a nerdy class president—”.

“Eunji, let’s go!” One of the minions called out in caution when he saw a door open. Sejun cursed loudly and spat at Jeno’s bruised body before rudely giving you a look, “Count yourselves lucky,” before running away with his group.

“Was it Mrs. Kang?” 

Stunned and also startled by Jeno’s deep husky voice, you stuttered, “H-Huh?”.

“The one who opened the door. Is it her?” He finally looked up to meet your eyes and goddamn did your breath hitch over his handsome face even if he had a black eye and a bruised lip. “O-Oh no. I think it was the heavens hearing my prayers. The wind opened the door.” You joked and looked away in embarrassment, thinking you got caught staring. 

All Jeno replied was a small nod and a deep groan, feeling incredible pain soaring throughout his muscles. He had trouble standing up, but he succeeded and carefully placed his guitar over his uninjured shoulder. He didn’t even look or said anything before trying to limp away. 

“Hello? Aren’t you going to thank me? Simple manners?”

He continued to ignore you until you took a hold of his guitar, “Yah did you even hear m—”.

“—hands off.” Jeno hissed through his teeth. He looked at your hand then at you with the coldest glare you’ve ever seen, making you shiver a bit in fear. “S-Sorry,” you apologized and immediately removed your hand. He sighed and glanced down at his feet before speaking, “If you want me to thank you, you’ll help me with these bruises and cuts.”

“But classes...”

The bell rung at the same time you spoke indicating that lunch’s finished and it’s time for math class. “Well? Will you?” He asked one more time.

You bit your lip as responsibility and stubbornness battle in your mind. It’s just math anyways, plus you’ll understand the lesson even without the teacher’s explanation. “Yeah, sure.” You gave out a smile. Jeno’s eyes widened when you agreed, he looked at you, amused, for a few seconds before clutching tightly on the strap of the guitar then grabbed your hand using his free hand and ran towards the exit before anyone could see. 

You yelped in surprise but ran with him anyways. 

“OUCH- OWW- HEY, HEY- YAH!” Jeno whinnied and glared at you for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day. You sighed and added more pressure on his bruised lip, smirking when he hissed in pain. 

“Are you a sadist? What the fuck?” 

You rolled your eyes and applied more medicine, since he looked like he really needed it. “I’m just doing what you said. And I’m serious that I want my thank you after this,” you gave him a warning look. Jeno snickered and closed his eyes when you finally treated his black eye gently, “You know, I’m actually surprised you agreed skipped classes with me. I thought you’re a ‘responsible class president’ or something.” You scoffed at him, “I am a responsible class president, that’s why I’m helping you. Plus, I’m surprised that you invited me in the first place so I’ll take it we’re both equal.”

Jeno gave you a smile that looks so adorable that it made your heart do a backflip, “Hmm, maybe we should hang out more~”, he invited. You cleaned up every medical item that you used and threw them at the near bin before shaking your head, “Nope. Now say thank you so I can go back to class.” He gave you a confused look and adjusted his position to make his guitar closer to his figure, “How will you go back? Do you really think the school guard will allow you back in?”, he chuckled. “Maybe you forgot the fact that everyone in school trusts me so I’ll just make up an excuse. They’ll believe it and boom I’m in!”

“You really aren’t the meaning of ‘responsible class president’.” Jeno raised a brow and clicked his tongue. “And your not the meaning of bad boy with you whinnying like a baby when I was just treating your bruises. ” You fired back. He scowled at you but then smirked and stood up, “Your not getting your thank you right now. I’ll give it to you soon— but not now”.

Your face fell as you shrieked, “What?! Why?! I helped you, twice! I deserve—”

“So you still have a reason to bother me.” Jeno cuts you off. 

“What?”

“I won’t say thank you so you’ll continue to bother me,” he cleared out and passed you his cute smile again before walking pass by your stunned figure. You turned around to shout at him, when you stopped and reminded yourself to have a little more patience. 

What have you gotten yourself into? All you did was do your job as class president and the bullies beat poor Jeno up. 

Your stomach grumbled, making you remember that you skipped lunch. “Shit, right, I haven’t had anything for lunch. Oh well, I guess I should eat some snacks before going back to class.”

THE NEXT DAY, WHEN YOU WERE JUST PEACEFULLY LOOKING THROUGH SOME PHILOSOPHY BOOKS IN THE LIBRARY, SUNGCHAN ONCE AGAIN DECIDED TO RUIN YOUR DAY— NOT LIKE IT WASN’T RUINED ALREADY. 

“Hi Y/n! Thanks for the notes. Here, you can have them back.” Sungchan smiled at you and passed you back your notebook. Your eyes softened at him and sighed, now really feeling really bad about giving him the wrong notes. But he really has to learn not to depend on you and sleep during classes. 

“Uhh, yeah, anytime Sungchan!” You smiled kindly. 

“What’s that?” Sungchan asked after a few seconds of awkward silence, preferring to the book. “Oh this? Errr, it’s philosophy. Wanna read with me?” You offered with a chuckle, not really knowing what to say. He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, “I-I think I have to go. I remember I have to help Shotaro and his girlfriend today. Bye have fun reading pilosy!”.

“...It’s philosophy,” you muttered and watched him run out of the library, with the librarian scolding him, telling him ‘no running inside the library’. Sighing, you packed up your things and returned the book to the correct shelf. 

“Thanks.” You mumble to the librarian, in which who replies, “No problem, dear. Come back at anytime.”

Now out of the library, you watched as friends and couples happily hang out at the hallways, at the cafeteria, on the campus— just everywhere. It’s looks like the world decides to mock how lonely you are right now. Clicking on your tongue, you ignored how envy squeezed your heart and walked towards the only place in school where it usually is empty. 

Except now it’s not. Given by the sounds of someone strumming the guitar. 

“Great, someone took my spot now.” You sarcastically mutter with a sigh, about to leave— when a voice stops you too. 

The voice was familiar, and it was on the tip of your tongue. Your eyebrows creased together as you leaned closer to the door and pressed your ear on it’s surface, closing your eyes to listen more closely tp the deep husky voice. The anonymous man sang just on the right tune with his guitar. Everything was beautiful up until his voice cracked in the middle of a high note. Your eyes immediately opened as your frowned. Just when you were about to stand up properly, the door opened causing you to fall face front. 

Jeno’s eyes widened as he watched your figure fall on the ground, not even bothering to waste energy and catch you. He let out a wide smirk once he noticed it was you. 

“Aha, I knew you could never stay away from me,” he chuckled. 

You groaned in pain and held on your hip before standing up, legs wobbling slightly, “fuck I felt that good.”

“I bet you did,” he finally decided to check you up, “you okay Y/n?”.

“Yeah, thanks for asking,” you sarcastically spoke and glared at him. Jeno let out a toothy grin and ruffled your hair, “Your welcome.”

His bruises and black eye from yesterday was still noticeable, but again, it didn’t make him look less handsome. 

“You probably heard what I’ve been doing in here, huh?” He asked. “Yeah, I never knew you could sing.” You nodded your head. 

“Why do you think I carried my guitar everywhere for?” Jeno raised a brow. “Too look cool? A lot of people do it.” You sat by the seat near the piano. “Alright I’m here to assure you that I’m cool even without the guitar and that yeah, I could sing.” He looked at you weirdly and sat back on the floor, putting the guitar back to his lap and playing it with random chords. 

“I don’t find the song you sang familiar, did you make it?” 

“I did. Wanna see the lyrics?” Jeno passed you his notebook.

i see you driving your car down to school. your lips are so fine, and you’re looking so cool. i know you’ve notice me too and if i’ll be honest with you, now maybe i’m thinking maybe.

“Looks like a love song.” You snickered, amused. “Yeah it is,” Jeno confirmed and took the paper back, “but I’m not finished with it. That’s all I could write after a whole ass month.” You tapped his shoulder, “I’m sure you need an inspiration to write a song, that’s why.”

“I know and it’s been killing me. I have no inspiration.” Jeno sighed deeply, continuing to strum on his instruments. “Why make a love song, anyways? There are other genres too.” You laugh at him, taking a sit beside him and started to make yourself comfortable. 

“Love’s the most important thing in the universe, didn’t you know?”

“I beg to differ, grades are better. High numbers decides your future.”

Jeno shook his head at you, tutting, “Alright then, let’s bet. If I’m correct, you come to the talent show and cheer me on. But if you’re correct then you’ll never see me anymore. ever.”

“Tempting. Hmmm, deal.” You smugly said and shook his hand to seal the bet. 

“WHAT STUPID RULE IS THAT?” Nari snorts, looking at you as if you just hosted a funny clown show minutes ago. “What stupid? Nari-ah, my rule isn’t stupid. In fact, it’ll help us protect our hearts.” You threw a pillow at her. 

Your cousin rolls her eyes and threw the soft item back at you, “Don’t fall for boys who writes you songs? Dude, what the hell is that suppose to mean?”. 

“I just thought that...that it’ll be better, you know?”, you stopped midway in your sentence, staring at the thick encyclopedia in front of you blankly. “Y/n I thought you already moved on from him, right? Or were you just faking it?” Now Nari looks worried as she goes closer to you. 

“N-No, I did. I really did. B-But—”

“Y/n,” Nari’s voice was stern yet soft. She noticed how your glossy your eyes are, tears threatening to fall. She placed a hand on top of yours and slowly took the thick book out of your hold, “What’s wrong Y/n? The last time you said that stupid rule was when Johnny broke up with you.”

“Is love really the strongest thing in the universe?”, you asked, remembering what Jeno said hours ago, “if it is, then why is it so cruel?”. 

“Because people take advantage of love. Love is really beautiful, if only humans didn’t corrupt it. And about your first question, only you could answer that.” Your cousin pulled you closer to her, rubbing your shoulder. 

“I did move on from Johnny, Ri. But I don’t understand. Why is the pain still there? Why can’t the memories fucking finally leave me alone?”

“Is there someone who reminds you of him?”

“No—”, Jeno. Lee fucking Jeno. He’s a bad boy who also writes songs just like your shitty ex, —”Yes. Actually, I think there is someone.”

“Hey, pain is good. Pain helps you learn,” Nari narrows her eyes at you, “but pain doesn’t mean you have to stop. Make more mistakes and learn from them because whether we like it or not, that’s how shitty love and life is.”

NARI, HOWEVER, HAD A GOOD POINT AND YOU HATE HOW RIGHT SHE ALWAYS WAS.

Johnny Suh was the boy you used to follow around, wasting money and gifts to satisfy his needs and win his love. You were blind and didn’t notice how he was just making fun of your innocence. He dated you for show and broke you in front of a crowd to humiliate you further. For months, you were lost.

You hated him and you hated yourself— thus, why the rule Don’t fall for boys who write you songs were born. And you were good at following it, you were doing great but Jeno had to ruin everything.

“Hey I’m—“

“I’m busy. Sorry, exams are coming up.” You smiled sadly at Jeno, packing your things up. “Oh no…it’s cool. I’ll see you around I guess?”.

You didn’t answer him verbally, but you did give him a shrug instead.

“Y/n.”

You stopped on your tracks.

“You don’t want to see me anymore? Ever?” Jeno’s questions made your heart sped up. It was a great opportunity for you— both for your studies and to protect your scared heart. But why didn’t you decline? Why did you want to see him again, and again, and again?

“Don’t be silly, Jeno. Just focus on your song so I could cheer you on in the talent show.” You laughed at how pale and scared he looked. Jeno could’ve sworn he could tackle you at that moment both in relief and annoyance, “Don’t scare me like that then! Ugh, god Y/n, class presidents should never be trusted.”

“What— Hey! That’s an insult! Being class president is harder then writing love songs!”

“Whatever, here. Take a look at the lyrics I added and tell me if it’s fine.” Jeno fished for his notebook in his back pack and placed the item on the palms of your hand. You gave him a soured look then opened the pages.

if you need a lover, let me know and let me in. i could treat you better, steal you roses everyday. i might not have a fancy car but i fancy you so gimme a chance. if you need a lover, baby.

“J-Jeno, where did you get these lyrics?”

They were familiar, too familiar. It was like as if he was meaning to you, but that was impossible? Right? No, of course it is.

“I found an inspiration, just like you said.”

Ah, shit. Your screwed. You looked up to see that he’s staring right back at you. “It’s the chorus,” Jeno tapped on the paper, smiling, “i-is it great?”.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Really romantic may I add. Lucky girl.” You rambled on, passing him the notebook, “Bye now! I have to study and you know how high graders are really important to me—“.

“—Wait! Wanna…go to the music room later? Help me finish and practice my song?” Jeno offered, biting his lip. You paused for a second, looking confused, “did you just not hear what I said? I have an upcoming exam and I have to study for it.”

“I’m inviting you again. Your choice if you wanna skip for the second time.” Jeno chuckled in a deep voice and dropped his left eye into a wink before turning the opposite way to the music room. A bad boy he is. How is he even still in high school?

Should you? Should you not? You made a mistake letting your heart lean on Johnny years ago, but just like what Nari said— pain doesn’t mean you have to stop. “Maybe I should,” you whispered to yourself, feeling adrenaline enter your veins for the second time, “maybe this is another mistake, but it’s something I’m willing to take. Fuck, that rhymes.”

YOU NEVER IMAGINED YOURSELF THAT ONE DAY YOU’D BE WITH LEE JENO, THE BAD BOY, IN THE MUSIC ROOM— HELPING HIM WRITE LYRICS OF A LOVE SONG.

If someone would tell you about all this ruckus a couple of months ago, you probably wouldn’t believe and even laugh at them.

The second you peeked inside the room, the first thing you see is Jeno looking all stressed and frustrated while clutching on his notebook tightly. He looked up to meet your eyes and cracked up a teasing smile, “How about the exams, Ms. Class president?”.

You scowled at him with that.

It took an hour of silence and brainstorming ideas before a light bulb lit up above you. “Hey I think I have the second verse!” You sat up from your laying down position with a huge smile. Jeno stopped tuning up his guitar and looked at you, waiting for you to show him. You grabbed his pencil and started writing in his notebook.

they look at me when i’m looking at you. i don’t give a damn ‘cause it’s all i can do. please don’t go breaking my heart, tell me you’re aching for me now baby, baby…

“Hey, not bad. And where did you get this amazing idea, missy?” He mimicked your earlier question and reached in to squeeze your right cheek rather very painfully. “Fuck— fuck— get off!” You growled, slapping his hand away, “I just based it from the lyrics you wrote, and please stop pinching my cheek like that.”

Jeno laughed and apologized a couple of times before trying to sing the newly added lyrics while playing the guitar. Not-so-secretly, you admired the way how he strummed on the instrument, or how he sung his heart out despite it only a ‘practice’. A smile escaped your lips that you didn’t even notice Jeni waving his hand in front of your face.

“Hello~? Y/n~? I know I’m handsome but it’s kind of creepy when you stare at someone without blinking.”

You were quickly bought back to earth as you slapped his hand away, “I wasn’t staring! And I was blinking!”. Jeno snorted, “Yeah, sure. Totally not staring and your totally blinking.” You felt your cheeks turned hot as you laugh nervously, “W-Well it’s just, u-uh…your not the kind of bad boy I imagined you’ll be.”

He clicked his tongue, “Uhhh what’s your meaning of ‘bad boy’ then?”.

You thought for awhile before laying down on the floor to get comfortable, Jeno following after placing his guitar neatly in it’s case.

“You’re just, like— you’re sweet, and everything.” You described him, not noticing the man’s flustered state beside you. “I’m guessing what you mean by ‘bad boy’ is Sejun? All the tattoos, unbuttoned school uniform, cigarettes, and jerk attitude?” He giggled, trying to hide what weird bubbly feeling he’s feeling in his chest.

“Y-Yeah like that,” you stuttered and faced him. Jeno glanced at you with hooded eyes, “I kind of did something bad though.” You let a small, “Huh?”, which made him smile.

“I made the class president skip the exams.”

With a silly smile, you giggled too and nodded, “Oh yeah.” Jeno continued staring at you and he doesn’t know how to stop. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asked and extended his arm. “I’m fine I guess,” you shrugged, Jeno smiled and gently guided your head to lay on his arm. You squeaked in surprise and glanced to meet his eyes. “Lay down, I don’t mind.”

You did what he said despite the obvious hesitation in your eyes— he’s just too comfortable and warm to resist. With the both of you staring at each other, Jeno suddenly whispered, “I know what to add in the lyrics..” 

You smirked slightly at him, “Let’s finish this.”

YOU DON’T LIKE HOW YOUR HEART ACTS AROUND JENO ANYMORE.

 One second you’re thinking of how to solve a math problem, then the other you’re suddenly thinking of Jeno as he plays on his guitar. On the most random times, he would enter your dreams too. 

“Are you okay?” Nari eyes on you while stuffing her spoon full of bubble gum flavored ice cream in her mouth. “Why wouldn’t I be? Of course I am.” You exhaustedly voiced out, tapping your pencil on the surface of the table. “Really? Because I don’t think you’ll be able to solve that with your notebook upside down.” She snorts. 

Your face burned in embarrassment as you smile and place the pencil down, “Actually...I think I won’t do the homework today.”

“That’s what I thought,” Nari continued on eating, sighing when you remained silent and more into your thoughts, “Is this about the guy who reminds you of Johnny?”.

Surprised, you look at her, “H-How do you know?”. 

“Your an easy book to read, Y/n. But what’s hard for me to figure out is who this guy is? How special is he that you’re breaking your rule—”

“—no one’s breaking the rule.”

Nari raised a brow, “Uh huh.”

You continued to act stubborn and tough, ignoring how your phone vibrates every other minute. “Who’s texting?” Your cousin asks curiously. “No one.” 

“Doesn’t seem like no one.” Nari quickly ran to the side table to grab your phone. Your eyes widened as you tried to run after her, “Yah! Give that back— Nari!”. 

“Jeno? Lee Jeno? The Lee Jeno? Holy shit! He’s the man!” Nari squealed, ignoring your cries and started reading all the texts shared in between you and the said man. “He’s not the man!” You scream over her. 

[8:45 pm] where r u? 

[8:45 pm] i can’t see you. come out. 

[8:47 pm] are u even here? y/n? 

[8:48 pm] y/n? 

“That’s it! I’m driving you to Romeo!” Nari stopped running around the house, placing your phone in her pocket before grabbing her car keys, “Come on Juliet, we have a talent show to come too.”

“Okay first of all, his name is Jeno, not Romeo and I’m Y/n, not Juliet,” you cringed at her choice of nicknames, “Second, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You really don’t have a choice~” Nari sing sang and waved your phone in the air while walking outside to the car. You cursed loudly in defeat and bit your lip while following after her. 

“My phone!”

“You can have it after you and Jeno get married!”

Fucking hell. 

JENO STARED AT YOUR CONTACT IN HIS PHONE SCREEN. HE DEBATED WHETHER TO CALL YOU OR NOT. 

Are you really not coming? Do you really not want to see him ever again? Why the hell is he staring at his phone like an idiot waiting for your reply when he should be doing a last practice before his performance? God, too much questions in his head. 

“Yah Lee, your on.” Kim Jungwoo, the organizer of the event, called for him. The older man gave him an encouraging smile and a pat on his back. “Yeah, thanks hyung.” Jeno nods, clutching on his guitar more tightly. 

Jeno took a deep breath before taking big steps towards the middle of the stage. The spotlight was dropped unto him, and it blinded his sight a little from how bright it was. Silence surrounded the auditorium as they wait for him to start. 

He let out a shaky breath that echoed through the mic. Jeno readied himself to start. He positioned his fingers on the right chords then opened his mouth to sing — but nothing came out. His voice was stuck in his throat and he didn’t know why. 

“That loser can’t sing!” Sejun howled loudly, causing the rest of the crowd to let out pair of giggles, “Awww, look how cute our bwad bwoy is cwying on stage.”

Jeno clenched his fists, the desire of punching the hell out of the guy getting stronger and stronger. Just when he could jump out of stage and beat Sejun up, the auditorium door was slammed open causing everyone to look. 

“H-Hi,” you embarrassingly said, shyly waving, “u-uh don’t mind me, j-just gonna take a seat by the front. Oh and Sejun? You’re the true cute one by pathetically trying to pull other people down with you.”

The crowd snickered by what you said and the said boy rudely tried to shut his laughing minions up. 

“I thought you’d never come.” Jeno spoke through the mic, not really seeing you because of the light but your voice calmed him. “I thought too, but I guess I want to hear what our song sounds like now it’s complete.”

Jeno hugely smiled that his jaw started hurting, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I see you driving your car down to school. Your lips are so fine, and your looking so cool…”

Was it bad that your heart fluttered too badly while he sings like that? Are you really willing to fall for the second time even if you aren’t sure that you’ll have a safe landing? Was Jeno really worth for you to break the only rule you have? 

The answer was simple, Jeno was worth more then that. The talent show passed by like a blur, and it felt like it was just you and the bad boy inside the auditorium. His lyrics totally were for you, if it isn’t that obvious at all. 

“And the winner for tonight’s show, Lee Jeno! Congratulations man!” 

Jeno exchanged excited looks with you and once again walked on stage, claiming his prize and thanking the judges. “Your song was really perfect and catchy, any words?” Jungwoo passed the mic to the younger boy, feeling genuinely happy for him. 

“It’s not mine,” was the first thing Jeno said, “Y/n, come up here!”. Your body tensed when he mentioned your name, students started cheering on you although it seemed more like teasing. Walking to the stage felt like walking on the moon, you took slow steps but when you reached the stairs, a hand appeared by your face. 

You looked up to see it was Jeno handing you his hand. Carefully placing your hand in his, he guided you up and passed you his trophy, “It’s yours.”

“What? Mine? No, your the one who sang. It’s yours.”

“Yeah, but if I never met you then I wouldn’t find any inspiration to finish our song anyways.”

What a cheesy idiot. You hate Jeno now. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. 

“Oh? Your not taking it?” 

“Never.” You stubbornly said, smirking. Jeno looked around the amused crowd of both students and teachers before kneeling down on one foot, taking you by surprise, “Y/n, my lovely nerdy class president, take the trophy will you?”.

“No! Lee Jeno— What the fuck are you doing? Stand up!”

“Nuh uh. I’m not standing up until you take it.”

You covered your burning face, not believing he’s actually doing this in front of everyone. “F-Fine! I’ll take it! Now stand up please, god, your embarrassing.”

Jeno cheekily grinned but didn’t stood up at all. You groaned in annoyance, “What now?!”. 

“Thank you—”

“—Finally! I thought you—”

“—and I like you.”

“What?! Stop!” 

It wasn’t just the trophy Jeno won that night. Unfortunately, he also won the bet and your heart. 

© AEHYEI, 2021

[proserpina-magnus]

Hiiiiii could I request a Marauders x reader… platonic. Where they are just coaxing her through a bad day/migraine?

Hii! there isn't that much comforting other then them being clingy and sorta protective, but I still hope you like!!

The Marauders When You Have A Migraine

Word count; 1.8k

[ Warning: fem reader, doodles, eating, migraines/description of headaches, swearing, Sirius refers to you as “their baby” ]

Quick note, there’s a scene where the boys draw on the reader with a marker. I didn’t specify what colour the marker was, so depending on your skin colour you can interrupt the colour as you wish.

You slumped at the Gryffindor dining table, hair matted in a low messy hairstyle. You didn't even try and brush it out, you woke up and left it how it was. You couldn't even bring yourself to dress in new fresh clothing, you wore what you slept in.

Eyeing the breakfast options, you felt a pain tingle through your head. The nerves bunching and squeezing together to make it unbearable to concentrate.

" [ name ]! We have class in 15 minutes and you're not even dressed!" James bellowed from across the table, you pushed your shoes against the floor and slumped. Remus gave a confused look, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between Peter and Sirius.

"Come on, we have time to get some food in 'ya," Sirius declared, pushing toast onto your plate. The curly raven haired male even buttered your toast just the way you liked, even filling your glass with fresh squeezed orange juice.

"How 'ya feel-in?" Peter pronounced through mouthfuls of food, James swatting the blonds head in retaliation. "Wormy, don't speak with your mouth full,"

Sirius cackled from beside you, Peter stomped his foot onto Sirius in response. Sirius made a dramatic scene, falling towards the cold stone floor as he held his foot with forced shaky breaths. "My foot! My foot! I've been assaulted!" He whined, rolling from side to side.

Remus lets out a loud sigh from beside you, your head buzzing from the noise of ongoing chatter. You could hear James laugh loudly, like he always does. Usually his laugh was contagious, but it was incredibly annoying at the moment. Along with snickers and loud whines, you gripped your cup and brought it to your lips. Peter swallowed, reaching for another pancake as he watched you take long sips.

" ya never answered my question," Peter rambled before taking a gracious bite. You shrugged, Sirius sliding back into his seat. The boys all looked towards you, your fork picking at the blueberries Sirius pushed onto your plate moments prior.

"Another headache?" James asked, cleaning his pants from crumbs as he pushed his finished plate aside. You nodded briefly, a plain expression adorned on your features. Another hot buzz dangled in your mind, your forehead throbbing along with it.

"Maybe we should take you to madam Pomfry, you shouldn't be getting them this often," Remus responded. Sirius made a pouting face, before he took you into his arms.

"Our baby is hurt!" Sirius exaggerated loudly, causing staring eyes to look towards the group of friends. You flushed a bit, embarrassed by Sirius nature. You pushed him away, going back to picking at your food.

"I ain't nobody's baby," you said while pushing Sirius further away, James and Peter sniggered as Sirius made puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes, a bit grumpy from the constant throbbing.

"Bloody hell, it fucking hurts. It's not even bad, it's just the constant throbbing is pissing me off," you complained, shoving the piece of toast in your mouth. You watched as students finished eating, occasionally leaving for their first class of the day.

The boys all exchanged looks, Remus placing a hand on your back to give it a gentle rub. You push your plate back, your arms coming on the table as you rest in them.

As more students leave, professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to your rambunctious group. She softens at the scene, seeing the four boys rub your shoulder or arms to try and give their sympathy.

You sigh as you hear her shoes click with the ground, professor Mcgonagall stands a few inches away from you all. She clears her throat, all eyes directing towards her except for you.

"Class is about to start... is there a problem with miss [ last name ]?" The older woman asked, trying to mask her worry. Remus had explained earlier to her that you had been having numerous migraines.

"She's having another headache Minnie, our baby is dying!" Sirius exclaimed, Remus reaching over to swat him away from you with an annoyed look plastered on his face. Even though you couldn't see Sirius, you laughed as you thought about his whining face.

Professor Mcgonagall clasped her tongue, about to tell off Sirius for the nickname he'd given her. But instead, she placed her attention on you.

"I'll take her to the infirmary, surely madam Pomfrey has a potion to help," she explained, the boys all standing together in the same motion. You still kept your head pressed into your forehead.

"Can we go with her?" James whispered, hoping that they could be with you. They all hated when you were in pain, it felt like they had to protect you. You were their bestfriend, they surely couldn't let a thing ever bug you unless it was them.

"I'm sorry Potter, but you have class," Professor McGonagall frowned, the boys were about to protest to stay with you. But Minnie quickly shut them down, her hand raising as all the boys shut their jaws closed.

"It's alright, I'll see you later," you told them, raising with a throb as you walked with them all towards the doors. You parted way painfully, Sirius almost crying as he clung onto your leg. The rest of the boys watched, even James tearing up. He took his round spectacles off, dabbing his eyes with a spare cloth he had in his pocket.

"You can't be serious," you retorted at them, an annoyed look on your face as Minnie checked her watch with frowned eyes.

"Well... technically," Sirius began, but he couldn't finish his sentence as you kicked him off of you. You were upset, tired, and in pain. As much as you loved them, they were too much sometimes.

"Just go, I'll see you later," you tried to cover up your annoyed state, but the boys picked up on it. Sirius straightened up, fixing his shirt as they left with their heads down casted towards the ground.

"Idiots they are," you told Professor McGonagall, she only laughed and led you towards the infirmary.

—-

After a few missed classes, it was finally lunch. All the boys scrambled to the dining hall, shoving foods on plates. They ignored the stares, jogging up to the infirmary where you slept.

With the creak of the door, Sirius and James peaked inside. They saw no one, only a lump on the farthest bed. They all skipped over to you with slow whispers, trying to make sure you won’t wake up. Sirius pushed the blanket of your face, all of them relieved to see you still asleep.

“Prongs, do you have a spare marker on you?” Sirius asked, a growing smirk on his face. James put down the plate on a nearby table, fishing through his pockets to try and find a marker.

“Pads, no,” Remus said sternly, knowing what the raven haired male would do. Peter looked between the three boys, a bit unsure of what Sirius was going to do. The blonde boy put his plate near James, picking up half a sandwich as he sat near your feet.

“Pads yes,” Sirius smiled widely, James passing him the thick inked marker. Remus rolled his eyes, not stopping Sirius from his antics. Sirius crawled on the bed, an evil smile on his features as he unclasped the marker. He wrote “baby” with big thick letters on your forehead, giggling when you twitched and tried to swat his hand away in your sleeping state.

“Give me the marker,” James whispers, not waiting for Sirius to pass him it as he snatched it for himself. The bispecticle male drew 4 happy stick figures and a rat on your cheek, his tongue poked out in concentration.

“Why am I the only one in my amingi form?” Peter asked, frowning as James passed him the marker. He began to draw a small smiley face in your open palm, writing a messy “Peter was here” on your arm.

“Because, there wasn’t enough room and plus, you’re cuter in rat form,” James teased, but his words sounded very sweet so Peter took it as a compliment. Sirius and Remus cackled loudly, making you stir awake. Your eyes fluttered open, looking around between the boys above you.

“Uh… hello?” You greeted, stretching slightly as you looked around the empty room. Sirius pushed Peter and James away from the bed, sprawling his limbs out to hog you from their affection.

“Hi!” They all chanted at once, Remus moving closer as he pushed at Sirius to make room. The tall male sat down, rummaging through his bag for a minute before pulling out a chocolate bar.

“Eat,” Remus said, even opening the wrapper for you. He broke off a piece, swatting Sirius's wandering hand when he tried to take a piece for himself. You sat up on the bed, unaware of the markings on your skin. You chewed the gooey chocolate, resting against the bed frame with a satisfied hum.

“Did you bring me food?” You asked, a smile on your face as you realized all the plates. The boys nodded, bringing the plates over for you all to feast upon.

“What’s so funny?” You asked when Sirius started to laugh, James also chuckling. You irked slightly, touching over your face to try and see if there were crumbs. This made the boys laugh harder, making you feel embarrassed as you choke out a “what? Is there something on my face?”

You notice the little doodle Peter left you, realizing what had happened. You pushed Sirius's head, making him bump into James. You laughed at the scene, both boys rubbing their forehead with a pouty face.

“Does it come off?” You asked Remus, a sigh on your lips as you ran off towards the bathroom.

“Nope,” he called out, a small smile on his face. You looked in the mirror, seeing the obvious doodles drawn by your boys. You knew exactly who the culprit was for the big letters written on your forehead.

“Sirius! What the hell is this?” You called, stomping back to the bed where they all sat. Sirius raises his hands, pointing to James and Peter. “It’s not just me! They did it as well!”

“You bitch,” James gasped, a hand on his heart as he held a dramatic glint in his eyes. Peter dropped his head, muttering his apologies. All the boys start to bicker at Sirius, calling him a tattletale. You smile and lean back against the bed, bringing a biscuit to your mouth as you watch the quarrel unfold, this was definitely the entertainment you needed on this shitty day.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Hi I need to ask a favor of you... Can we get like,,, the reader trying to set cc!dream up with a friend of theirs and he actually likes the reader so we get like dream trying to say that he likes the reader. Idk if this makes sense but I just want a dramatic like "ARE YOU DUMB" moment. Thank u, I'll exit the stage.

Okay so long story short, I had a series about Dre that I was going to write (like a million years ago even before e!k) and I tuned up the confession scene because it fit with the request. Idk idk. It was back when I was having my romance novel phase. N E WAY. happy reading :) ♡ g

𝐄𝐆𝐎 & 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: language, angst, being so overdramatic, mentions of rivals to lovers, being in a shower, kinda cringe ngl

Dream eyed you over his glass from across the table, his legs long enough that he was invading your space beneath the surface. His green eyes burned into you, which you attempted to let roll off your shoulders innocently. Your friend was talking up Sapnap, completely destroying your plan put in place. It seemed like Dream could tell what you were up to as well, and by the look he was sending your way and the tension in his shoulders, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood for it. Sapnap asked the girl beside you how she was doing in her classes and before he could boast about his own achievements, you butted in. “You know, Clay’s ranked fourth in our sociology class.” Dream rolled his eyes as your friend’s brow perked at your statement.

She cracked a grin in his direction. “Oh really? You some kind of a genius?” She joked, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Dream chewed the inside of his cheek and folded his hands together on the table, uncomfortable now that you had shifted the subject matter to him. “Uh, I wouldn’t say that. It’s an intro course so…” he mumbled. She hummed in response and he wet his lips.

You jumped into the small bit of silence. “Come on, don’t downplay! He’s also helped me pass calculus last year,” you boasted. Dream shut his eyes briefly as if it were taking every ounce of his being not to scold you. You didn’t care.

“That’s awesome! I’m actually a mathematics major,” your friend eased. “Maybe if you are some kind of genius you could help me figure out homeomorphically irreducible trees sometime,” she jousted with a small wink. Dream chuckled and you thought maybe… finally… they were clicking. You knew you were right, you knew they were a perfect match. Dream just had to put forth a bit more effort.

Dream’s eyes flashed to you again briefly, as if a symbol of telling you he’d kill you for pushing this. “Oh, I don’t know anything about math really, but Sapnap knows a lot of the math professors,” he turned over with a soft smile, sending your friend back into Sapnap’s metaphorical tract. The two started rambling to each other and Dream shot you a dirty look. “Cut it out,” he bit, barely loud enough for you to even hear. You took this as a challenge.

Another round of drinks came to the table, Dream had yet to completely finish his first as it seemed like something was weighing on his mind. You had gotten into the habit of picking up every subtle tick he had and picking at it. You silently listened to the conversation between Nick and your friend as it wound down, giving you the opportunity to strike up something else about Dream. “So Clay, what was your beer pong average last semester?” You asked, taking a sip from your straw innocently.

He sent you a deadpan expression, but Sapnap answered for him. “Oh, trust me, Clay’s the one you want on your team at every frat party,” he praised. You knew how much your friend liked the whole idea of winning pointless party games.

“I think it’s time I walk you home,” Dream mumbled after standing before you could answer. You followed him out of the restaurant, sending your friend and Sapnap an awkward grin. They had barely noticed anyway; too caught up in their own conversation. You jogged a bit to catch up to Dream as he shoved his fists in his pockets. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He grumbled.

You furrowed your brows, nudging his arm playfully. “What do you mean? I’m trying to get you laid!” You chided. He rolled his eyes again. “Loosen up! Come on, she’s pretty isn’t she.”

Dream sighed deeply. “Of course she’s pretty. Just quit with meddling in my sex life,” he hissed.

You laughed mockingly. “You are so tightly wound!” He pushed the door open to your building. You could tell you were pushing his buttons as he pursed his lips instead of firing something back at you. “You’re such a killjoy,” you joshed, pinching his side.

He swatted your hand away, attempting to ignore you. “Quit.”

“Fine, whatever. Go home and make fast with your hand.” That was it---the last push.

Dream grabbed your arm and yanked you down the hall behind him. You could practically see the steam rolling off his shoulders as he turned a corner and you began to grow tense. You knew he'd never hurt you but the sheer anxiety of what he was going to do next weighed on your conscience. Had you gone too far this time? You'd pushed him past his limit before, but he'd never taken you with him when he needed to remove himself from the situation.

You were shocked as he threw open the door to the communal showers, your brows knitting together in confusion as you began to claw at his hand. "Clay, stop! What are you doing?" You gritted, struggling against his grip. He threw open one of the stall doors and tossed you inside, your back hit the linoleum tiling with a quiet thump and you glared at him with scolding eyes as if to bite ‘don't you dare touch me’ into his skin.

He pursed his lips as if his anger was threatening to boil over and he turned the knob behind you, instantly soaking you and your clothes in freezing water. You painstakingly jumped for the dial and he grabbed your arm again, pulling you inches from his face. "You need to cool the fuck down. I'm serious!" He snapped.

Your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your head in disbelief at the audacity he had. His jaw tensed as he glared at your features and you drew his arm closer, turning on your heel so he replaced you in the water. His reaction was subtle to the dowsing; instead, he released his grip on you. "What the hell is your problem!" You yelled. This was unknowingly becoming your breaking point. You hadn't woken up that day and realized today is the day I choose violence but Dream's medieval form of communicating with you was striking a hidden nerve.

"My problem? MY PROBLEM?" He let out an exasperated sigh, turning slightly to twist the knob for hot water before laying into you. Why he didn't just turn off the water was unbeknownst to you. "My problem is you!"

You rolled your eyes heavily. "Me?" You tsked at him. "Why don't you get a fucking life-"

"Are you really that fucking stupid?" He bit. Your disgusted look you made sure to exaggerate twisted something behind his eyes. The shower began to produce steam over his shoulders. Dream's hair had begun hanging in short ringlets around his ears. His long-sleeved t-shirt clung to his body enough that you could see every dip in his chest. Every breath he drew in to calm himself down rippled through his silhouette. In the slightest way, it seemed as if the dragon was finally baring his soft underbelly to you.

His hands balled into fists at your look of disbelief at him calling you dumb. He groaned deeply, bringing his palms to his eyes and gritting his teeth. He then pushed his fingers into his wet hair, plastering it back from framing his face. Dream's bright eyes studied you with his features set in stone. "How could you not realize?" He let out a short exhale, his hands seemingly gripping for his own thoughts as they moved with his search of words. "I know you aren't as aloof as you put off. I know you know that I-" he stopped himself short with an aggressive shrug of his shoulders. It was almost humoring to see him standing like a wet dog in front of you and at a loss for words. That big head of his was proving to be a difficult landscape for him to form sentences. "... That I-" he bit into his lip, frustration settling into his brow.

You rolled your eyes again, your wet clothes feeling uncomfortable as they began to shrink against certain parts of your body. The steam from the water was enveloping the two of you in the small space, but your close stance kept a breath of clearance in your visions. "Spit it out, Clay. Obviously, I'm too dumb to put two and two together. You're gonna have to man up and get over it," you snapped and his eyes flashed up to the ceiling.

He gritted his teeth again. "Fuck. What am I trying to say?" He hissed. The gears in his head were beginning to rust with overstimulation, and you could tell. He was hesitant as if debating what would be his next move. The tall man before you was slowly unraveling into unarticulated emotions. The minuscule thought tugged at your mind that Dream was attempting to tell you he felt something for you. It was oddly satisfying to juxtapose your ill-fated seven minutes in heaven experience when you had met him with the close, wet atmosphere you were in now. Even back then Dream couldn't figure out what to say.

He swallowed, his anger had melded into something less aggressive and more inwardly scorning. "I care about you," he blurted, his voice coming out uneven. He wasn't nervous and it seemed as if he'd practiced this in the mirror yet was crumbling under the pressure of you actually standing before him. "I care about you," he repeated, his face still tense and severe.

You were taken aback by his simple statement, awaiting his next move. You didn't dare arrest your eyes from his, your mind blurring about what to say to his confession. You knew that was big coming from him at the way it tugged at your heartstrings, making you blush in the ferocity of the steaming stall. The beat of silence was broken as he took a step toward you, taking your face into his large hands in a gentle gesture. His fingers threatened to snake into your hair as his thumb traced the bend in your jaw. Droplets of water fell off of him to splash against your sopping wet clothing, the warmth of his figure nearly pressed against yours sending rushes of goosebumps across the plain of your skin.

His eyes searched yours as he hesitated, as if savoring being close enough to taste you, yet the anticipation of sealing the fated and quarrelsome air between the two of you with his kiss was nearly too unrealistic for his mind to comprehend. The pad of his thumb brushed lightly against the flesh of your bottom lip as if he were wondering if the shade was their true color, all of his movements completely foiling the way he'd always handled you.

His look of desire and unsteadiness gave him the appearance of an explorer wandering around a foreign planet with the consistency of practice but restraint. You'd heard other girls talking about being with Dream---a fumbling night of drunken fun or a quick use and jading---but the Dream standing before you now seemed to be his own breed. You let your mind flicker to the fantasy that maybe the boy itching to mark you was a figment of him reserved and stocked only for you.

You found yourself leaning on your toes as his eyes began to close, drawing you in with his subtle caress. The water thundered down against him as his towering frame shielded you from the shower, the sound of its stream bouncing off the floor and your matted articles of clothing mixing with Dream's soft breath. As he pressed his lips against yours, it seemed like he was hesitant as if you'd snatch yourself away from his cradling like you always had, but sure enough, your sneakers were glued to the floor beneath you. Wherever you were going in the next few minutes would be to follow his lead.

His fingers dipped into your locks, bringing you deeper into his gesture of passion. Your mind clicked into the reality of the situation as your shoulders sank into a sense of calmness. Your hands found purchase around his waist, wanting to reassure him that you were reading his actions as your fingers traced the lines and dips in his back.

He kissed you with a needy passiveness that bled into the echoing taste of mint, bitter coffee, and the soft embrace of his mildly chapped lips. You'd been close enough to him in the past to dig your nose into his clean scent, but as he pressed against you, it was all you could focus on. He kissed you as if his lips were studying to be experts on your own; a kneading of exploratory gentleness met with a keen sense of wanting to pour everything unsaid between the two of you into this action. It was like he hungrily wanted to know the curvature of your mouth like the back of his hand.

He broke away from you breathlessly and your floating sense of calm clouded and compacted your words. You hesitated to open your eyes as you felt him settle his forehead against yours, not wanting to extract himself from you yet. You subtly enjoyed the fact of sharing air with him as you drew in a deep breath, the taste of him still lingering in your mouth. You wanted that taste to live on your tongue.

Clay stepped back, shrugging out of your hold reluctantly. His hand moved to settle over his mouth as if he was silently apologizing for the suddenness of that action. Your mind was running wild with the thought of him. You parted your lips, stunned enough that you could barely remember how to stand on your own let alone string together a sentence.

He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes. "I- um," his tongue darted across his lips and you yearned at the fact that you wanted to be pressed against him again, selfishly needing to be tangled among his long limbs or you'd surely die. "I'll see you around," he stated, undoubtedly noticing how verklempt you were and what kind of effect he'd had on you.

He moved to step around you and your eyes glued to where he was standing before. He halted when his shoulder brushed against yours, his gaze turning to trace against your features as you struggled to meet his eyes. You knew he was biting back a smirk as he went on his way again, leaving you to decompose at the mental imagery of him.

You heard the door swing shut behind him and you pushed your wet hair away from your face, turning off the water. As you stepped from the stall, you met eyes with a girl who perked an eyebrow in your direction. She froze in the middle of brushing her teeth, having obviously seen Clay leave, and at the sight of you, she smirked. “Alright, alright. I see you, Elizabeth Bennett,” she winked, swaying a bit before continuing on with her routine.

Dream Tag List: (follow this link to be added ;))

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @darphobic @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @lindsayhunz @shroomieissmall @mintmochiii @clubfairy

[fangirlings-things]

To get the job done

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Word count: 5.1K

Summary: going undercover as a couple with your boss in order to serve as bait for an unsub, definitely should have been more... professional

Warnings: smut, sexual innuendos, chocking, language, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and couldn't shake this idea out of my head lol. this is my first hotch smut ever written so I hope this is good. hope you guys enjoy this, lots of love!!!

TAG LIST: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GIF IS NOT MINE

“It’s not working”

Between the loud music resonating through the nightclub and the proximity of civilians who shouldn’t hear your words, you had come closer to Hotch to speak, so that he could fully understand what you were saying. As you did, mouth close to his ear, you were able to smell the scent of perfume coming from him. That was a good smell.

You both had done your best to look incredibly good on that night, for the operation the BAU had developed alongside the local police department on the last two days. As the unsub had been targeting couples on that nightclub specifically and there were no bodies to sustain the accusation even though he had been the last one seen with all those people, the best approach was to use a bait and catch him in the act.

At first you believed you were going in undercover with Morgan, what you guys had already done before when the situation called for it. But according to the profile and the fact that all the previous disappeared male victims were white, the team agreed that it would be better to send Hotch, and that was how you ended up playing couple with your boss, something you were sure shouldn’t be making you as nervous as it was.

“We've only been here for half an hour, (Y/N)” Hotch replied, eyes wondering around a bit before he focused on you and smiled tenderly, placing a hand on your cheek. You had been exchanging soft touches like that, to blind in between the other couples present. “Maybe he isn’t here yet”

You sighted heavily, but nodded in agreement, because there was a good chance he was right. For another hour, you and Hotch kept on to your disguise. You smiled at each other, even danced a bit, which really made you laugh because you had never pictured your boss doing such thing, and he had managed to laugh a bit as well. At some point, you felt his hands circling your waist and pulling you close towards his own body. You couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down your spine in that moment.

Time passed and passed, and except for a woman that got close to flirt with Hotch that he politely dismissed by holding your hand, nothing happened. The unsub didn’t approach you, like he had done to the other missing couples. Only then, a thought occurred to you and you remembered something important about the abductions. Or more exactly, previously to those.

“Hotch, we forgot something” you said, slowly pulling him by the arm to one of the corners of the club, like you where just getting away from the crowd to make out a bit.

“What?” he asked, frowning while trying to keep a relaxed expression on his features. Under the shinning lights of the nightclub, his short hair and white shirt with the two first buttons open and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked extremely handsome. Not that you hadn’t noticed it already on a daily basis, but then, he was your boss. On this night… he was playing your boyfriend. You had some kind of permission to allow yourself to think such thing.

“The unsub's method. What made him choose those couples instead of all the others” you said, pressing your back against the wall and bringing him close to you with a smile, feeling other people’s eyes on you both. His hands found your waist and stayed there, unmoving. “He likes to play the gentleman before actually abducting the couples” you told Hotch, hands running up his uncovered by the rolled sleeves arms. “Witnesses said they saw the male and the female getting into some kind of discussion, that the men were sometimes violent with their girlfriends, so the unsub would come and defend her” you saw that he had understood what you meant even before you said the words. “You have to be violent with me”

“So he gets to play the good guy with the women before abducting them and the boyfriends, to later kill them both” he completed your line of thought and you nodded, agreeing. “(Y/N)…” Hotch then began, hesitant. You saw the way he squeezed his lips on a thin line and sighted heavily, looking around again before getting his gaze fixed on you. “are you sure this is what we have to do?”

“I am” you guaranteed, eyes fixed on his as seriousness filled your tone. Hotch stared at you for a long moment as if he was thinking about it, but then he pulled back, taking his hands away from you and stepping back like he suddenly wanted distance. Fearing it would blow your cover, you looked at him even more seriously now. “Hotch? Come on! You have to…”

Before you could finish your sentence, expressing your indignation for his hesitation to get the job done, he closed the gap between you both once again, body now fully pressed against yours. His breath was on your face, heavy and hot. One of his hands, had gone to your throat. He was squeezing your neck, fingertips digging into your skin just enough to put some pressure on it.

“Why can’t you ever stop talking” his voice came out rough, irritated. With widened eyes because of the fact that he was suddenly all upon you, you realized that Hotch was playing along. He was following the plan. And really, you wanted to think about the unsub, but it proved to be really hard when you had Hotch’s hand around your throat and his breath on your face. The scent of his perfume, so close… you felt intoxicated by him in the best way possible.

“Hotch…” you began, glad that he had to be the one leading the actions and not you. Honestly, professionalism was the last thing on your mind in that moment and even though you knew it was wrong, you couldn’t help it.

“Shut up” he replied in the same instant, which made you go instantly quiet, as his hand increased the pressure on your neck just a bit. The fake anger was there in his voice but in his eyes, there was no such thing. They were cautious, inspecting your features to see if you were comfortable with this. You stared back at him silently and he understood, that you were good to keep up the little scene, which set him into action once again. “Just shut the fuck up for a moment” his hand moved further up your throat, brushing against your skin smoothly as it went. He only stopped when he was finally able to touch your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes on your lips as he did so. “Just shut up”

And right and there, you did something you couldn’t have predicted.

You moaned.

A low, breathy moan that you silently wished for him to not have heard, but of course he had, being pressed up against you like that. You closed your eyes for a long moment, embarrassed and desperately wanted to disappear. You had just moaned because of the hand of your boss around your throat. That wasn’t something you felt quite pride of. Still, you forced yourself to open your eyes and stare at Hotch. His eyes… they were unreadable. Even though you were a profiler, you had no idea what was on his mind. None.

Before you could think of anything to say, suddenly a man approached you and Hotch, getting too close. He was extremely tall, had brown eyes and blond hair. There was a calm expression on his features, the kind of expression you had often seen in the faces of unsubs when they talked about their crimes. “Hey, you���re hurting the lady, man!”

As both of your attentions were on him now, that being the unsub the police had already locked up but then let go because of the lack of evidences, Hotch released his hand from your throat, but then he grabbed your forearm with it, keeping you in place. When he spoke, he used the best angered voice he had. “I’m having a private conversation with my girlfriend. Why don’t you leave?”

The unsub focused his gaze on you, ignoring Hotch like he hadn't even spoken. “Is he hurting you?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), am I hurting you?” Hotch said turning to you too, provoking the unsub by forcing you to share the full attention he clearly wanted.

“No” you replied, eyes going from Hotch to the unsub. Looking into the latter's eyes, you forced yourself to give out a little smile. “I’m fine, but thank you” and as to reassure him, you gently placed your hand on his arm.

You heard Hotch take a deep breath by your side, annoyed by you touching the other man, and then he gripped really tightly at your arm. “We are leaving” and then without warning, he began to drag you towards the exit. You didn’t have to look back to know that the unsub was following you both.

“The others are outside, right?” you whispered to Hotch, as he continued to drag you along between the great amount of people.

“Yes, Morgan has a S.W.A.T team on the roof top of the next building” he said back, while pushing open the door of the nightclub. Instantly, the cold air of the night outside the place made you shiver, because of the great amount of exposed skin from your dress. Without saying anything else, he continued to drag you along. Seconds later, you heard the door being opened and closed again.

“Hey!” a voice that clearly belonged to the unsub said and you and Hotch stopped, turning around to look at him. He had pulled out a gun, and had it pointed directly to your face. “Come here you both, or I’ll shoot her right in her pretty face”

“Alright man, take it easy!” Hotch let go of you, raised his hands in the air and motioned for you to walk alongside him. You placed the most scared look you could on your face as you walked towards the unsub.

When you and Hotch had already closed half of the distance between you both and the unsub, armed agents appeared from every corner of the empty, barely illuminated parking lot, pointing their guns to the unsub.

“Richard Jones, put the gun down right now!” Morgan’s firm voice echoed through the parking lot as he screamed, standing just a few feet away from the man.

The unsub looked from the many agents to you both and seeing the controlled expressions on your faces, he clenched his jaw, filled with anger. “You two are cops, aren’t you?” hearing the instability in his voice, Hotch took a step forward to stand in front of you, shielding you with his own body. “Son of a…” the unsub took a enraged step forward and then the sound of a shot filled the night. In the same instant, the unsub fell to the ground, dropping the gun and using the now free hand to press on his shoulder, where the bullet had hit him.

Morgan quickly ran towards the fallen unsub and kicked the gun away from his reach. “You two good?” he asked without turning around, still pointing his gun to the now unharmed unsub.

“Yeah, we’re fine” you said, after touching Hotch’s shoulder for a moment. He just nodded, fine. Good.

The ambulance came after ten minutes to take the unsub to the closest hospital. Morgan talked to the local officers to decide which one would accompany Jones there and Reid and Prentiss had just congratulated you for the good job. Rossi, talked to Hotch a few feet away from where you were. When Spencer and Emily walked away to verify some last things with the paramedics, Hotch approached you.

“Good job” he said, hands on the pockets of his pants. The professionalism was back, now that the operation was done. The boss was back like he had never left.

“Thanks. You too” you gave him a smile, eyes on the paramedics that were just putting Jones inside the ambulance. “That’s how he did it. He threatened the women to make the men comply to whatever he said”

“He envied the men, they were always his real target. He overpowered the men and probably made them watch whatever he did to the girlfriends” Hotch said, also looking at the unsub.

“Do you think we will find the bodies?” you asked, frustrated. Now, Jones could be charged for the crimes but the families of the victims had nothing to hold on to. No bodies to bury. The thought was awful.

“I don’t think so” Hotch replied, as clear and honest as ever. The sound of the ambulance's doors being closed made itself heard and then Hotch sighted and put himself in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that beautifully defined the muscles of his arms. “(Y/N), about what happened in there…” for a second you thought he was going to mention your moan and all air left your lungs. But thankfully, he didn’t. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly. Gripping you like that”

“Oh, you didn’t” you rushed yourself into saying, trying to calm down your still heavy beating heart. You gave him another smile and a shrug. “We just did what we had to do to get the job done, right?”

“(Y/N)!” Reid called you, standing close to one of the SUV's, motioning for you to come close.

You briefly touched Hotch’s arm. “Don’t worry, Hotch” and giving him one last friendly smile you walked away towards Reid, taking a deep breath as you did so. Being under Hotch’s stare had never been so intense, exciting and anxious all the same.

With every step you took, you wondered if you would ever be able to look at Hotch like you did before that night. Merely as your boss and a friend.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

It turned out, things weren’t the same anymore.

It had been a month since that case were you and Hotch had gone undercover together as a couple. A month. It always felt like it had happened on the previous day to the one you were living. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that night away from your mind.

Everytime Hotch would sit close to you at the jet and you would smell his perfume, you would inevitably close your eyes and remember the feeling of having his hands on your waist. When he would hand you a file and your hands would end up casually brushing against one another, you would remember having that same hand closed around your throat and that thought alone would make you have to hold back a whimper.

Truth was you wouldn’t be able to deny your attraction to your boss to anyone that asked about it. Thankfully though, you hadn’t wore wires on that night and no other members of the team had gone into the club. So, those moments had belonged only to you both. Your corrupted mind, was more than grateful for it.

“(Y/N), my love?” Garcia’s voice brought you back to reality, making you snap out of your thoughts and focus your eyes on hers. She was staring at you with a smile and curious eyes. “Now, you were daydreaming about some lucky sugar out there”

Cleaning your throat, you did your best to keep on a straight face. It was unbelievable how even though you daily spent your time with profilers, she could be more perceptive than all of them went it came to emotions and personal innuendos. “I’m sorry Penelope, I drifted away. Was is it?”

She stared at you with interested eyes for a few more moments before looking down at the table you were both sitting at for hours now, at the lobby of the hotel you had all booked in the city. “Well, I just finished doing all the background check I could get on the previous victims, like you guys asked me to” she handed you a folder, filled with information that certainly would be significant for the current investigation the team was working on. You were glad she had travelled with you all for this case.

“Penelope, you’re amazing” you grabbed the folder and took a few glares to the pages inside of it, before closing it again and looking back at her. “We should call it for the day and get some rest like the others”

“I’ll do that, I just have to check one last thing. Will you please spare me the trouble and take this to Hotch on your way to have some amazingly good sleep?” she pouted, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist such a request.

“Sure” you said, thinking about the fact that you had just agreed on going to Hotch’s room to deliver him the folder in the middle of the night. You took a deep breath before standing up. “Goodnight, Penelope”

“Rest well, my lovely friend” she winked at you and you smiled back at her before making your way to the elevator. You were all staying on the same floor, so you pressed the bottom to the seventh floor and waited with a fast beating her inside the elevator, that seemed to get to the said floor too soon. Too fast.

Room 220. You stared at it's door for what seemed to be hours. You thought about Hotch inside. The fact that you were about to come in. Him, alone. Alone with you. Like you two had been on that nightclub.

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on stopping those wondering thoughts and knocked on the door. The answer came seconds later, an 'enter' you would often hear at the office. Of course he had been waiting awake for the files. That was Hotch, after all.

Taking another deep breath you opened the door and your gaze immediately met Hotch, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest close to the table placed at the corner of the room. Pictures and other files filled it and he looked through it like always, searching for leads and trying to begin the building of the unsub's profile. He had removed his black suit and red tie, standing there with just a white shirt covering his upper body. Just like on the nightclub.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother, but Garcia asked me to bring you these files” you raised the folder in the air, a small polite smile on your lips as you did so.

“Thank you” he crossed the distance of the room towards you and stopped just two steps away. You handed him the folder, and he looked inside it for long moments before looking back to you so your eyes would meet. “Do you want to help me go over this knew information?”

You swallowed dry at the suggestion you hadn’t been expecting. Who needed to sleep when you could just spend time with the man you daydreamed about, right? This thought, got the next words out of your mouth. “Yeah, sure”

“Okay, close the door” Hotch said with that professional tone of his, nodding in the door's direction before turning around and going back to stand close to the table. You did close the door and then went to stand by him, looking at all the files splayed out in quite a mess. “I still haven’t been able to make any progress with the profile”

“Well, we’ve only been here for two days” you said, getting some of the crime scene pictures in your hands and looking attentively at them, searching for anything that might have passed your attentions before. “we don’t have much but we’ll get the job done, like we always do”

Then, Hotch chuckled. The sound was so unexpected and it happened to rarely that you instantly stopped looking at the photos, placed them back at the table and then turned with a frown to look at your boss, not being able to stop yourself from smiling a bit. “What?”

“Nothing, is just that…” he shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest and eyes not staring into yours. “we have been making a great team lately” and then he looked at you. And he must have recognized the conflicted expression on your features, because the intensity of his eyes suddenly became too much to bare. And still, you found yourself unable to look away.

“Yeah, we have” you found it within yourself to answer those simple three words and then it happened exactly like in the nightclub. Before you could even realize what was happening, Hotch got closer and closer until his body was almost touching yours. Painfully almost.

“Can I?” he asked, staring into your eyes with beautiful fixation. His breathing was heavy and it made you realize that you weren’t the only one nervous in that room. You just nodded, staring back at him with your heart beating so hard and fast inside your chest it seemed like it would explode. Slowly Hotch raised his eyes and placed them on your cheeks, fingertips caressing the skin beneath them gently. And then, even more slowly, he closed the gap between you both and touched your lips with his.

It wasn’t even a proper kiss. Just a brush of mouths. Curious, anxious, insecure. He brushed his lips against yours and stopped, as if giving you time to decide what to do. To have Hotch there like that, with you like you wanted him to be, it went to your head in a burst of delight and you were the one who urged forward and fully pressed your lips together, hands going to rest on his forearms. He tasted good. So unique, so fine.

You kissed slowly. Exploring, getting to know each other’s mouths little by little with tongues and lips. But then you got impatient, excited, and you pressed your lips more hardly against his, wanting to make those kisses as deep and breath taking as you could. Hotch responded immediately at that incentive, kissing you just as intensively as you wanted him to. And so, one of his hands slipped down to your throat and he squeezed it slightly, putting pressure. Such an amazing pressure. And it made you moan. At that point, after all those kisses, you didn’t even bother to try to repress it.

“I have been wanting to make you moan again since that night” Hotch said against your lips and that, actually made you moan again. Louder this time and it made his squeeze on your neck get tighter and if you were being honest, you weren’t having it any other way.

You kept on kissing, bodies fully pressed against one another, mouths devouring each other unstoppably until your hands found the buttons of his shirt and you started opening them. It seemed to take hours but you finally managed to slip the shirt out of him, the piece of clothing ending up on the floor just to be shortly joined by your own t-shirt.

Hotch’s hands then were on your waist, gripping at the bare skin of your hips in a way that made you weak. One of your hands was on his cheek and the other, played with the short hair at the back of his neck. Together you moved towards the bed, mouths only letting go to do so. You pushed Hotch to the bed and he sat at the edge of it, looking up at you breathless and with his mouth very reddened from the kisses. He was beautiful.

You moved to sit on his lap, hands on his neck and mouth back on his because you already missed it. Through the layers of your intimate clothes and both of your pants, you felt his hard member beneath you. As you kissed you pressed your body down into him, pressing his member, and his breath hissed. You smiled.

Hotch gripped your thighs with his hands firmly and flipped you both around, making you lay back on the bed as he got above you. He kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth and hands squeezing so tightly your thighs that you felt like you were going to burst.

His hands went to open the button of your jeans and you helped him get rid of it. Another piece on the floor. Then, after giving you a series of quick kisses, Hotch stood up from the bed and started to take out his own pants. You just watched him, smiling with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Liking the view?” he asked with a smirk, and oh, that was a version of Hotch you could easily get used to. The way he took out the pants and disposed it to the side, standing now in just black boxer briefs, eyes not leaving you not for a second, that was something you wanted to mark in your memory.

“How could I not?” you replied just when he knelt back on the bed and then, crawled his way to be on top of you again. Looking up at his face, you sighted. That was amazing. What was happening… you couldn’t have predicted it not even in your best dreams.

Hotch kissed you again, hands traveling to your back just so that he could undo your bra. One more piece gone. One of his hands slowly found your left breast and he caressed it in his hands, making you moan again and again. He kissed you. He kissed your breasts. He kissed you again. His hands caressed your skin unstoppably.

“Hotch…” you moaned his name when he began to give you small bites here and there, the feeling of your skin between his teeth making you suck in a breath. He probably noticed the desperation in your voice, because next thing you knew he was sliding his kisses down to your belly and then, he kissed your pussy from above your panties. “Hotch” his name was emitted from your mouth again, louder this time.

He took his time just kissing you like that, with that layer between his mouth and your intimacy. Torturing you to the most. When he found it proper he removed your panties using both of his hands and after discarding them just like he had done with his pants, he used his hands to spread your thighs and get his face close to your pussy. He kissed your thighs, ignoring your intimacy. You could feel his hot breath down there and it made you lose your mind. You could almost feel yourself dripping your wetness into the bed.

“Hotch!” you urged him to stop teasing, eyes shut and chest raising and falling incredibly fast due to your erratic breathing. The moan you gave out when his mouth finally came in contact with your pussy was obscene. Was loud and you did not give a damn about it because you had your boss's face between your legs and that was it. That was all you cared about right then.

He sure as hell knew what to do with his mouth. He kissed, sucked and he fucked you with his tongue, his saliva mixed with the wetness of your own body making you become a moaning mess. Your hands went to his short hair and you gripped tightly at it, pulling. You moaned again, and that made him moan a bit. Suddenly the feeling of his mouth was gone and you felt extremely disappointed. Just a bit more…

One of his fingers found it’s way inside your body and your moan was cut short by his mouth back on yours. You tasted yourself on his mouth and the thought alone almost made you come. After a couple seconds, another finger joined in and the feeling of having them coming in and out of your body was incredible. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling and gripping like you were holding yourself into dear life.

His movements were slow, calculated. The kisses were deep. At some point, you made it know you wanted more by sliding one of your hands down between both of your bodies and touching him through his briefs. He stopped kissing you, stopped the movements of his hand and looked into your eyes. You smiled at each other, and then he pulled back away from you to get rid of the last layer. The last piece ended on the floor.

You motioned to grab at his hard member, bit he held your wrist gently halfway and you frowned. “Another time. Right now” he came close again and with one of his hands, stroked your hair for a bit. “I want to make you feel good”

“Okay” you managed to say, already excited by the idea of 'another time'. You were certain, that was something you wanted to keep happening and for the look on Hotch’s face, he did too.

You both moaned together when he entered your body with his member. Finally. His mouth and fingers had made you as slick and open they could and you managed to fit all of him inside of you, all pain disappearing in just a few moments as you locked your legs around his waist.

Hotch looked into your eyes again, smiled by seeing your clearly pleasured expression and then began to move. Slowly, enjoying every bit of it. But after so much previous teasing, he couldn’t hold himself back too much and hearing you moan like that, probably didn’t help his state of mind.

His movements became rough, fast. You both moaned and moaned, each other’s names being the only thing leaving your mouths. One of Hotch’s hands found your throat and the feeling of his fucking you with the squeeze on your neck made you come, moaning loudly. So loudly. Hotch came just a few movements after, moaning too.

He laid beside you, both of you breathing heavily with your skins glistening in sweat. You kissed him once more before snuggling up to his chest and closing his eyes, you fell asleep.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“Morning, guys” Prentiss said, yawning while joining the rest of the team in the hotel lobby. The sun had just raised itself in the sky and you were all heading to the local precinct.

“Morning” Morgan replied, smiling by her clearly sleepy face. Sitting by Garcia’s side in one of the couches, he had a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hope you all had a nice night of sleep, because this day will probably be too long”

“I couldn’t sleep until four” Reid said with a heavy sight, also having a cup of coffee in his hands. Standing beside you, he looked to Hotch and then back at you before whispering. “The walls were really thin”

[arvandus]

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta.  You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face.  You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed.  You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note:  A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder​​. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??).  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar.  Some looking to win romance.  Some looking to win money.  While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends.  Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band.  It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched.  You checked your phone for messages but found none.  It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up.  It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response.  Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up.  A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point.  You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now.  Sometimes it was them.  Sometimes it was you.  But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best.  At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date.  And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing.  Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians.  Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din.  Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs.  Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage.  All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club.  Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch.  Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was.  Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips.  He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans.  He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing.  The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star.  The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck.  It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This.  This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out.  You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people.  But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new.  And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump.  Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed.  But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel.  Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away.  Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble.  His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral.  To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze.  You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis.  “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons.  He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly.  “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down.  “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles.  “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow.  “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’.  You know who I’m talking about.  If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done.  But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened. 

Watching him from a distance was one thing.  But actually meeting him?  Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body.  “No, it’s okay.  I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention.  You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage.  No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him.  The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at.  And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you.  You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance.  Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift.  The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins.  You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him.  Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time.  Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did.  Only rarely did he linger for a drink.  What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you.  He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep.  It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten.  You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured.  You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit.  He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him.  No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him.  In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied.  “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied.  Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass.  Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip. 

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar.  “Duty calls, friend.  Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him.  Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later.   You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight.  A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred.  “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold.  “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned.  “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl.  It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat.  Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi.  He had a way of handling drunken idiots.  But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him. 

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind.  Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face.  A well-placed kick to his shin.  Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder.  The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort.  You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips.  But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare.  “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered.  “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.  His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission.  For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good.  Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him.  “Hey, fuck you man!”  He shouted.  But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables.  Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse.  Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess.  The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had.  But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded.  “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine.  But next time ask for one of my bouncers.  Or Hizashi.  Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin.  “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents.  “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay.  Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.”  She crossed her arms.  “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand.  I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better.  And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before.  “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love.  I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

 Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

 “And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment.  I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi.  “Get her a fresh drink.”  

 “Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

 She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

 “Thank you.” You replied.

 Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

 You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now.  “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

 “Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath.  Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display.  Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied.  There was a long silence before he spoke again.  “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then.  Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely.  The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked.  “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking.  The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.  

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown.  How long had he noticed you’d been coming here?  Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment.  You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh.  He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused.  Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time.  I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True.  I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice.  You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin.  “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back.  This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective.  Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval.  He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought.  It felt natural.  Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself.  After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face.  His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri.  You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own.  Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life.  You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory.  He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed.  “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed.  “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look.  “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink.  “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation.  You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now.  You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him.  “How about you?  Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No.  No special someone.  Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand.  Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.  

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him.  Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched.  If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned.  Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there?  What if you were wrong?  

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter.  The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy.  It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations.  Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.  

He was interested.  In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned.  Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind.  It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most.  You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.  

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers.  Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin.  That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment.  “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club.  Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day.  How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement.  But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could.  “Leave me the keys to the place.  I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug.  He placed a set of keys on the counter.  “Don’t tell Nemuri, though.  She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left.  You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze.  Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space.  He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile.  “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you.  “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips.  You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own.  Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass.  You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head.  “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid.  Used to mess around on it.” He explained.  “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails.  You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing.  “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head.  “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them.  Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat.  He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty.  The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him.  The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C.  Everything else will center around this.”  He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space.  “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys.  Like this.”  Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm.  “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.”  He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out.  Then, he removed his hand.  “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried.  The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured.  “Let’s try it again.  Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol.  It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness.  You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it.  You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit.  And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop?  How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay.  Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys.  “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his.  His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land.  Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said.  “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval.  “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time.  The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled.  “Good.  Now, for the other hand.  You’ll start one octave lower.  Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect.  Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys.  “Like this?”

Shouta nodded.  “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand.  The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you.  You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap.  His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his.  The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod.  “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily.  “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No.  Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him.  He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them.  You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this.  The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes.  To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly.  The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake.  You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down.  And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys.  All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen.  His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.  

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys.  His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable.  But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted.  But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting.  Finally, he spoke.  “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now.  “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you.  Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results.  Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need.  Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did.  It was obvious you did.  Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him.  He needed to hear it.  A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you.  At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own.  You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.  

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs.  This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing?  How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence?  And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties.  The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation.  His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps.  Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock.  Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements.  “You better stop that…” he warned.  

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end.  But you didn’t care.  You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction.  In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck.  His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw.  There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap.  The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control.  But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back.  “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath.  With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel.  He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance.  The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered.  Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit.  A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage.  With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release.  Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you.  With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching.  Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer.  You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly.  “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers.  The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake.  Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched.  Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.  

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.  Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch.  His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs.  The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips.  Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him.  But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh.  “Much.”  You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you.  “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans.  “As much as I like that idea, no.”  He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap.  His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place.  “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.  “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms.  “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.”  You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered.  You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access.  “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind.  Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes.  He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was.  You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

 You couldn’t wait.

[suchalonelysunflower]

Take Your Feelings, Put Them Into a Song (A.I)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Wallows! Fem! Reader

Requested: yes!

Summary: Y/N Sixx, bassist from the famous band Wallows, is helping 5SOS write their latest album CALM. If only she could keep her crush on the drummer under control…

Warnings: Fluff. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 4.6 k

Author’s Note: IM BACK! Remember that Reblogs, Likes, Comments and Feedback are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

anon: Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born on 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and it’s the bassist and songwriter of Wallows (…) and she helps 5sos write songs for the album CALM and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in a good way) with shipping? There’s no drama like it was in EUH

It was another boring day in the studio and you would literally prefer to do anything else than to listen to Cole talk about the last date he had instead of working on your new song. But inspiration was lacking between you and your bandmates and you really had no other choice since you already took that time on the studio’s schedule.

One would believe that you would be used to dull times in the studio, having spent a lot of time on them while growing up with your parents, but boredom was a cruel crime inside your head and today your patience was running thin.

“Hey, peanut!” Dylan called your attention “Everything good there?”

You were laying on the sofa, looking at the ceiling for some kind of saving grace, but Dylan’s voice brought you back to your reality.

“Are we going to get something done today?” You asked with a sigh, with your eyes still glued to the ceiling “Cause we are really just wasting time by now and I don’t think Cole’s last fling will bring any kind of inspo into our little group”

“Hey!” Cole protested, earning a chuckle from Braeden.

“Whatever,” You said, already getting up from your spot “I’m going to take a walk”

You took a deep breath once you closed the door to your private room. You loved the guys, you really do, but sometimes people can be too much, especially people who you spend every single day and hour with.

Memories from the past year started to fill your mind and you smiled when thinking about how much your little band has grown. Wallows was now everywhere, you created a name for yourself without using your parent’s influence and you were so damn proud of that, yet when moments like these come around - the moments where you just need to breathe to escape the reality for just a while - you start to reflect on every choice you made and if they were the right ones.

It’s the overthinking that got you to write those first lyrics in the first place, the ones that were put into songs and now were, somehow, all over TikTok with thousands of people relating to them. So maybe, overthinking now might not be such a bad idea after all.

“It’s a terrible idea if you think about it for more than one minute, mate”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard that voice, thinking that maybe you were finally going crazy or someone could’ve read your mind. But it wasn’t until you heard someone else answer that you realized it was a conversation.

“Well, I don’t know what to do with it anymore!”

You turned your head to the left and smiled when you saw the little sign that said “5SOS now in session. DO NOT DISTURB” And realized that your other favorite boys were back in town.

Of course you ignored the sign and knocked on the door a couple of times before opening it shamelessly.

“Well, well, well…” You said with a teasing smile as you leaned over the door frame “If it isn’t my second favorite Aussie band”

The faces of two of the members of said band light up once they realize it was you, quickly getting up to wrap you in a hug.

“Mini Sixx!” Calum said, ruffling his hand through your hair “About time you came to visit us”

You pushed him and Luke away from you “And you should’ve told me you’re back from your break! I could’ve escaped Dylan and the other minions earlier”

“Rough session?” Luke asked, seating down and patting the place next to him for you to sit on.

“Oh, you have no idea”

You loved the 5sos guys, it was impossible not to. Ever since you met them at a label party in 2015 when you were introduced to them because you were the same age as half of the group, you knew that they were made to be on the stage.

It was easy to become their friend, given their welcoming attitude and easy-going smiles even before they found out who your parents were. It was nice for a change not to be Y/N Sixx, daughter of the famous bassist of Mötley Crüe and famous Playboy doll Brandi Brandt, for a moment and just be Y/N, a bassist that had a lot to give to the world. And with the boys you didn’t even have to try to be someone you were not, with them everything was just so… real.

Just like now, where you were allowed to complain about your lovely bandmates to them and they would complain just as well, with no judgment nor responsibilities, just three friends letting out some steam due to the stress of your careers.

“-And basically we don’t know what else to do with the song” Luke finished his rant on the missing piece of their new song for their next album.

“And you have the lyrics ready?”

“Yeah, me and my girl wrote it a few weeks ago but the melody is just…”

“It’s missing something” Calum finished for him with a sigh.

You hummed “Can I see it?”

The two Australians got to work, playing the song with the piano and the guitar and you came to the conclusion that they were right: there was something big missing.

“So it’s a ballad,” You said, thinking of ways to fix it.

“Technically yes, but when you play it like that it sounds incomplete and the lyrics won’t work with another type of rhythm” Luke sighed “We’ve been at it for days now.”

You stayed quiet for a while, reviewing the lyrics and melody more carefully now, analyzing the situation with different approaches but without getting anywhere. It was a beautiful song, it truly was, but it needed something else, something that could create a “boom” sensation for whoever was listening.

Something like…

“Hey guys, have you finished with the- Oh, Hey, Y/N/N!” Ashton said, opening the door and finding you with his bandmates in deep concentration.

Bingo.

“Uh, why are you smiling at me like that?” Ashton asked you with a chuckle, but you didn’t even address him as you turned to Luke and Calum.

“It needs drums”

“What?” The three men said in unison. You rolled your eyes and snatched the notes from Calum’s lap and started to sing the melody.

“Here!” You pointed out “In this part, before finishing the first chorus: I already made, already made that…” And then you started to make drum noises and movements with your arms for them to get the idea.

In a matter of seconds, Luke got up from his seat and walked towards you, taking the notes from you and reviewing them with new eyes, smiling as he got the idea.

“Ha!” He laughed loudly, “You’re a fucking genius!”

“Thank you,” You said with a smug smile as you, Calum and Luke started to discuss the arrangements.

“Wait, hold up” Ashton interrupted the chatter “Y/N, I appreciate you trying to help and no offense and all but I think this isn’t your place to just decide something like that,” He said, pointing to the three of you.

You rolled your eyes. You’ve dealt with stubborn people before, but Ashton did take a spot on your top three and you knew just how to handle him.

“Wow,” You said sarcastically with a teasing smile “One would think that by being half of the rhythm section you would have more… I don’t know, rhythm?”

Ashton crooked an eyebrow and you and you knew you had him in the bag “I just don’t think-”

“You don’t think?” You said, getting up from your chair and walking up to him to be almost chest to chest. You looked up to his eyes and challenged him “Or you just can’t handle the fact that I might’ve had a better idea than you”

You could see by the sparkle in his eyes that he has taken the challenge to heart. He took a step closer to you, almost pressing his body completely against yours, and smirked.

“Want me to prove you wrong, princess?” He teased but you didn’t back up.

“I’d like to see you try, darling”

Ashton’s smirk widened as he took a step back, turning his head towards Luke and Calum who were watching the scene with intrigued eyes and knowing smiles “Get your asses back in the recording booth”

He followed them as they walked into the big recording space they had, but not before sending you a wink seconds after he closed the door.

You were thankful he didn’t see you blush.

Once they were all set with their instruments - Calum on the keys, Luke on the guitar, and Ashton behind his drum set - You pressed the buttons of the console that would make it possible for you to hear them at the other side of the mirrored glass.

“Okay boys, show me what you got”

*

You became an official 5SOS songwriter after that day and even Ashton had to admit that you were adding so much more to the band lyrics and melodies since you started to work with them.

Every day you would find yourself walking towards their studio after your band’s session and you start to work wherever they left off. It was a simple dynamic that worked wonders for everyone and after every session, you would get even more inspired to write your own music for Wallows, so it was a win-win situation, not to mention, spending time with your new co-workers; especially a particular drummer that grew closer to you that you would’ve ever imagined.

When you first met the band you hit it off pretty quickly with Luke and Calum, them being the same age as you and having pretty much the same interests; then came Michael that shared a similar sense of humor with you and with whom you discussed videogames with. But Ashton was always the one that you consciously tried to not get too close to.

In all honesty, he intimidated you but not in a bad way. He was smart, talented, and super funny, not to mention also ridiculously handsome. But he was also stubborn, a little bit egotistical, and the only one that could keep up with you in a battle of wits, teasing, and sarcasm. And you knew that if you mixed that all together it might mean trouble, especially when he smiled at you like that.

Of course you had a crush on him, who wouldn’t? But the fact is that you know what it is like to date in the industry and having feelings for a member of another pretty famous band might bring some tension to the table, so it was safer to play the crushing card and just stay friends. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself every day since you started to see him regularly and spend more time with him than with any other of the two bands.

Speaking of…

“Earth to Y/N?” Called Braeden waving a hand in front of your face “Is anybody there?”

You blinked a few times before pushing his hand away with a scoff “Very funny, B. What’s up?”

“You spaced out again” Cole added, fidgeting with his drumsticks “Just when we were going to start complimenting you on that bass line you wrote the other day…”

You smiled as you threw a pillow at him that he was able to easily dodge “Sorry, I was just-”

“Thinking about a particular drummer again?” Dylan teased, to which Cole added.

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall in love with me”

You searched for other pillows and started to throw them at your band members, giggling as they started to throw them back at you and starting an improvised pillow fight in the middle of the recording booth.

“Hey, Y/N/N! I was wondering if you-” Ashton’s sentence was cut short as he opened the door and took in the scene that was in front of him.

You were so busy chasing Breaden with a pillow on each hand and a devilish smile that you didn’t even notice when the door opened or that Ashton was standing there, smiling at you with his arms crossed as you aimed at your bandmate's head.

“Oh look, peanut!” Dylan said teasingly “You knight in shiny armor is here to-” But before he could say anything more embarrassing, you threw a pillow directly at his face to shut him out.

You quickly turned your head to Ashton who was fairly amused by your battle skills and smiled at him.

“Hey!” You said breathlessly after chasing down the others.

“Hi,” He smiled back “Am I interrupting something or?”

“Nah, you’re good,” You said, throwing one last pillow at your three friends that stood in a corner blowing teasing kisses and puppy eyes at the two of you “These assholes and I are done for the day” You commented before said assholes started to pout and complain, but you were already out the door before they could say something embarrassing again.

“So…” Ashton trailed off, starting to walk alongside you with his hands in his front pockets.

“So,” You said, drifting your eyes from him and praying to the universe that he didn’t hear anything or else it would make the blush on your face even pinker “You needed me for something?”

You wanted to get the topic of work right there in the open as soon as possible, not wanting him to notice how nervous you got when you were alone with him. At least when you were talking about work you leveled the ground in some parts.

“Actually, I’m going home early today” He smiled softly “Luke and the guys are working on a love song that’s just way too happy and butterflies - in - your -stomach like and I didn’t think they needed me there if I can’t bring nothing to the table”

“You’re not a lovey-dovey feeling kinda guy?” You teased by bumping your arm with his, earning a “hey” from him “I actually get it, I’m not that kind of person either”

“It’s not like I don’t like it, it’s just that-”

“You process your emotions differently, and it’s easier to write those when you think of love in other stages and/or mixed with other complex emotions because-”

“Love is not just one-sided! Yes!” Ashton celebrated, amazed that you could understand what he was saying “I knew you would get it”

That comment made your cheeks heat up as you looked at him, all dimpled smiles and light chuckled as he looked at you with sparkly hazel eyes. Oh no…

“Well,” You said, breaking that little moment “If they are going to work on that all day then I guess I would head home, too. I don’t think I’ll be able to provide anything else either”

“Actually,” Ashton said as he stopped in the middle of the hall leading to the exit, making you stop as well and turn to him “I was wondering if you would want to get some coffee with me now that we are both free. Of course, if you really are free and have nothing else to do and want to actually drink coffee or tea… or maybe not and you’re not that type of person and-”

“Are you asking me out?”

Ashton stopped his rambling and looked at you with an incredulous smile and lightly blushed cheeks.

“I- well, yeah,” He said shyly “Yeah, I am”

You smiled and softly chuckled “Look at the famous drummer all nervous” You teasingly took a step closer to him, not knowing where this confidence was coming from, and he did the same “It’s just me, you know?”

“And that’s exactly the reason why”

“Do I make you nervous, darling?”

“Let’s say that if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have rambled like that, princess”

You pressed your lips in a thin line and smiled as you looked away from him, blushing like a teenager on her first date.

“So…” You trailed off.

“So?”

“Lead the way”

*

From that moment both of your routines changed once again. Now you took time off the studio at least two times a week to go with Ashton on those small friendly dates as he took you out for coffee or just simple but meaningful talks.

Soon enough you lost all the doubts that made you nervous around him, seeing how easy it was to talk to him and how much you had in common in more aspects than just music. You became more comfortable around him and your level of teasing and playing grew alongside your relationship, not to mention the level of teasing and playing you received from your band members and the other 3 Aussies who joined in on all the fun.

You were used to blushing and dismissing comments about your - undeniable - crush on the drummer, but Ashton didn’t seem to be affected by them at all. On the contrary, Ashton played along and even seemed like he was enjoying it. Like in one particular occasion where you were working on a song together and Michael said:

“Oh my god, date her already!”

Ashton didn’t blink an eye before responding “I’m trying! But she just wants to focus on the harmonies”

And you’d be lying if you said that didn’t put a smile on your face.

Yet, you kept it all professional while being in the studio; no need to mix your personal lives with whatever was going on down there, that’s why those coffee runs were your favorites.

It was an unspoken rule between the two of you that “work-talk” was forever banned from those outings.

“So what are we going to talk about?” You asked him the first time you went into his favorite coffee shop.

“Us” He simply answered, unaware of the butterflies he just set in your stomach.

“Us?”

“Yeah, I want to get to know you better, princess. Who is Y/N Sixx?”

“Who is Ashton Irwin?”

“I asked first”

“I asked second” You countered

Ashton smiled widely “You think you’re clever…”

“It doesn’t matter what I think” You answered, casually sipping on your coffee “I know I’m clever just like I know you like me that way”

You were testing the waters back then, hiding the shaking of your knees under the table as you longed to know how he felt about it. But the way he smiled and how he blushed a little bit made all your fears go away.

“Yeah, that I do”

Your cheeks turned red whenever you reminisced about that moment - or any moment that you spent with Ashton for that matter - which gave you the perfect idea for a song.

“I don’t want to kill my time with somebody else…” You hummed to yourself as you wrote down what you think is the chorus to a new song.

You told Ashton that you were not the type to write silly love songs or very uplifting songs; but there was something in that memory, something in that feeling that you couldn't ignore or just let it be without doing something about it. So, you started to write it.

You couldn't separate the feeling from the art, after all, feelings were what led you to dedicate your life to music. People would say it was because of your parent’s influence but they had little to nothing to do with your decision. This was you, the authentical you writing whatever came to mind and then sharing it with the world and only a few people will get it in its entirety. And surely Ashton was one of them.

“Dadadada something, want you all to myself”

“Wacha doing there, princess?”

Speaking of the devil.

Ashton smiled at you as he hunched over the table you were working on, trying to peek at what you were writing. You lifted the notebook and pressed it against your chest faking offense as he giggled.

“Didn’t your mother taught you not to sneak up on people, darling?” You asked as he walked around your workspace and sat himself down on the chair next to you “Besides, you’re late. You were supposed to meet me here like half an hour ago!”

“Aww, sorry Sixx” Ashton pouted “But there were no chocolate chip cookies left in the shop so I had to go around town to get you some” He then put a bag of freshly made cookies on top of the table with a cup filled with coffee.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“Of course I did! You always only eat chocolate chips cookies in the afternoon”

He started to giggle again, ignoring the way you were looking at him “How did you know that?”

“C’mon, Y/N/N, every time we go for coffee you order two, one for the coffee and another one for the road. And every time we cater something you never touch anything but those cookies”

“I never knew you were so observant”

Ashton shrugged “I just pay attention if I like what I see,” He said nonchalantly with a wink, making you blush instantly, but you covered it up with an eye roll.

“God, you’re terrible” You scoffed.

“I’m honest!” You shook your head and went back to writing, but Ashton was not going to let that go so easily. “Look, how else could I know that you always put an extra bag of sugar in your coffee?”

“‘Cause I always drink the same thing,” You said without looking up from your notebook.

“Yeah, a mocha latte with extra chocolate drizzle and no foam. Honestly, how can you handle that much sugar?” You were about to answer but he caught you off. “But that’s not all you drink, whenever you have a bad day you always order a cup of mango and ginger tea because that’s your mother’s favorite drink and it helps you calm down. You also don’t want anyone to know that you’re having a bad day but the minute someone looks away your smile starts to flatter until you’re back in the conversation”

You stopped the writing completely as you turned to him, suddenly feeling how your heart started to jump all over your chest as he kept talking, eyes never leaving yours as he gave you a soft smile, almost as if he was remembering all those moments with you.

“You draw flowers on the corner of your notebooks whenever you feel bored. You love the sad songs on the radio and you know every single word to Lorde’s Melodrama, yet every time you have to choose a playlist you put 2000’s pop and R&B songs because it hypes you up. You hate awkward silences unless you are the one being quiet. You help Dylan dye his hair every time he asks you to because you would trust each other with your lives, you give Cole relationship advice because you care about him and he always appreciates your advice more than anyone’s and Braeden is your best friend because you always say that he is one of the few people that could make you laugh in a bad day and you have no idea how much I want to be included in that list”

“Ashton-”

“You write better with dim light, it helps you concentrate on your work. You say you don’t believe in astrology yet you check your horoscope every day. You want to make sure that everyone has a good time and feels included, that’s why you always make conversations with Micahel about games you never even heard before or let Luke braid your hair when he’s bored or how you switched topics when you noticed that Calum was not engaging as much in a conversation. You literally take care of everyone but you never let anyone take care of you, and when we do you get all shy and you blush as you say thank you and you have no idea how fucking adorable you look”

You sat there speechless as he spoke. You felt the back of your throat dry as you tried to find the right words to answer all of that.

It was too much. The fact that he knew all of that and how he said it like he was just talking about his favorite things in the world, it was just too much but at the same time, you want to hear him say that again.

A weird sense of joy and shyness came over you as he set his hazel eyes on yours. You gave him a small smile as you averted your gaze to the floor.

“Wow, I-” You started “I never thought someone noticed all that”

“How could I not?” You heard him say “You’re all I can think about and to say that I don’t notice you is like saying I don’t notice the sun in the sky or the stars at night. You’re the brightest light out there, Y/N, you shine everywhere you go”

You noticed how he pulled his chair closer to you and suddenly you felt how your chair started to slowly turn his way until you were face to face.

Ashton carefully placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head until you were finally looking into his eyes again.

“There she is!” He smiled when he noticed your blushing cheeks and gleaming eyes.

“What do you mean when you say I’m all you think about?” You asked expectantly, curling your fingers nervously on top of your thighs.

Ashton chuckled. “Well, if you didn’t notice, I really fucking like you, Y/N”

You looked up at him, smiling with hopeful eyes and feeling as if a weight was lifted off your chest thanks to the joy you were experiencing while hearing those words.

“You do?”

“Unless you don’t like me back and I just spilled my feelings for nothing-” You smacked him playfully in the arm “Ouch! I’m kidding! Of course I like you! Fuck, Y/N I’ve been falling for years now and I thought I was being pretty obvious”

You laughed “I thought you were just playing!”

In an instant, Ashton pulled your chair closer and grabbed you by the hip, lifting you up and making you sit on his lap as he hugged you by the waist and you placed your arms around his neck.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” He said, “I’ll do anything to prove it”

“Well,” You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and knocking your forehead to his “How about you help me finish this song and then you take me on a date? Cause I’ve been falling for you, too and I don’t want to waste any more time”

Ashton hummed as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, kissing it softly as he murmured “Will I get to kiss my princess at midnight?”

“Maybe… or you can take your chances now if you’d like”

He smiled.

“I like those odds”

And just before you know it, he softly pressed his lips against yours; finally creating a happy beginning for the two of you.

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[4joonkookie]

Gravity

(Mirror, Mirror part #2, [or not])

⚘ Paring: Jungkook x Reader

⚘Words: 3.8K

⚘Summary:

Part 2 of the Mirror, Mirror series. All parts can be read as a series or standalone. (Standalone) - You strike a lusty connection with a sexy stranger at a concert venue. OR (Series) - Unsure about the future of your relationship, you recall the first time you meet and fuck JK.

⚘Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, flirting, public foreplay, infatuation, established relationship, non-disclosure agreement, angst, rough sex, putting on a condom is sexy?, waxing nostalgic, noona!kink, destiny, series, career woman, Jungkook takes long showers, oops there's a plot, lots of research on that 'Euphoria' harness, Seokjin cameo, commitment issues, avoidant behavior, unresolved ending, ending up to reader interpretation, just wanted to write a sex scene in the mirror and it's manifested into 4 parts.

------------------------------------------

You stand frozen in the mirror, looking at your reflection until it fortunately steams away from Jungkook’s hot shower.

Quit your stupid job. Please. Stay with me. And you don’t need to have an answer. But we have to talk about it.

You could be predictable and do exactly what Jungkook thinks. You can leave.

Or. You could head to the kitchen, start a pot of coffee and unpack your bags.

Memories flood your mind, keeping you still.

-----

The thousands of seats in the stadium are empty but ample employees work through set-up and dress rehearsal for the concert happening tonight.

You stand on the stage watching the staff secure a performer to the platform harness, tightening a cable around his waist. They shuffle to finish and take steps back to watch the man be lifted, hung and swayed above the stadium seats.

This is the last item on your agenda today before you can head back to the hotel and rest for an early flight tomorrow.

The performer is slowly lowered down to the stage.

Working for these large venues means traveling, living in hotel rooms and keeping you too busy to take advantage of endless complimentary show tickets. Most of them go to waste or are given away . A “friend” (one of the many that come out of the woodwork depending on what show is in their city) casually asked about tickets to this particular concert. You told her the stadium is sold out but you had 2 tickets and weren’t planning on using them.

Your ears still ring with the high-pitched shriek she wailed into the receiver.

When the man lands safely back on the stage, you approach him. “How is it? Does it feel okay?” you say, in your best client - friendly voice as he steps off the device.

“Do I have to wear the wrist harness?” He rubs where the looped fabric has reddened his skin.

“It kind of burns.”

You scrunch your face before replying. “Yes, you have to wear the harness. It’s a liability if you don’t.” you say, matter-of-factly.

“A liability.” It’s not clear if he’s parroting you or asking a question.

“Right,” you nod. You signed a contract.”

“I did?” his hand on his chest, genuinely surprised.

“Well, someone did,” gesturing to the plentiful staff of his company.

“What does it say?”

“It says the stadium isn’t responsible for anything that happens to you if you don’t use the moving platform as recommended, I.E. with the wrist harness.”

He doesn’t reply. “Sorry.”, you add. Just trying to keep you and your 5 friends safe.”

“6,” he corrects you.

“6 What?”

“There’s seven of us. Me and 6 friends.”

You quickly apologize, realizing you may have come off rude and too eager to leave. You have no idea who he is but he’s not the first diva you’ve dealt with. You turn on the charm and start sucking up to the talent, as your job often requires.

“But if the fabric of this one is too rough on you...,” you briefly rub your hand over the reddening skin on his hand. “I think I have one in a different material that’ll be gentler on your skin.”

He laughs shyly and smiles. It wasn’t your intention to flirt but his reaction made it feel like you were. It makes him seem a little young.

“It’s ok.” He laughs again, containing a smile. “It’s not too rough,” eyes glancing at your lips and moving to your eyes. The wind blows his dark hair over his face but you can still see his eyes. His near smolder throws you off, causing you to dart your own eyes down.

“Are you sure?” feeling blood rush to your chest and face as the distance between your bodies begins to close.

“Yes.” He thanks you by name after quickly getting a glimpse at your name badge. “Is that your job? Making sure everyone is safe?” Embarrassed by your initial touch, he seems more confident now.

“Sort of,” you reply shortly.

Really, your job is to prevent the venues from being sued. Charming (and albeit, sometimes flirting) with talent is part of the job, so, you’re not sure why this random has such a pull on you. Or why your palms are sweating and your mind is going foggy.

“Wait here,” you instruct.

He nods and you jog to an equipment room backstage to retrieve another wrist harness. This one is made of silicone instead of fabric. You hurry back to him and worry you’re out of breath when you return.

“Here.” You pull the moving platform to you, stepping on your tiptoes to unhook the fabric loop. He holds out his hand to take the new one from you. You offer it and he easily reaches to hook it on, making you feel small as you return back to your flat feet.

“Hopefully, it’s a bit gentler for you,” you tease, taking some advantage of his bashfulness.

“Thank You.” He smiles. Your bodies are closer now and you can feel his breath.

Swallowing, “Do you want to try it.?” Soap and cologne fill your nostrils.

“Try what?” keeping his lips parted, eyes searching your face.

“The harness.” You pull the still-hanging platform and hold your foot down on the device so he can step easily onto it again. He raises his arm above his head and you loop his hand through the strap. You pull the belted cables and secure them tightly around his waist, feeling rigid muscles under his oversized t-shirt. He winces when you snap the belt closed.

“Speaking of rough,” he scolds, looking down at you, the world closing in quickly on you both.

“Safety first.” One of your feet between his, holding him down to the stage on the small platform. You could’ve had staff do it but eliminating this closeness seems wrong. “Ready?” you say, hands hanging from his belt.

His eyes peek down at your lips again. “Ready.” You step off the platform and give a thumbs up to staff working the cables above the stadium. They pull him for a few laps, flying around, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

When he lands, you replace your foot between his. “Better?” you ask, rising to your tippy-toes to unloop his wrist, letting your fingertips graze on the top of his hand.

“Better,” he replies, smiling ear-to-ear now. You wrap your arms around his waist again to remove the cables.

Behind him, a group of men huddle together at the end of the stage, conspicuously giggling and immediately stopping when your eyes find them.

“Are those your 6 friends?” you question, as you unhook the belt, embarrassed that you acted as if you were alone.

He steps off and rolls his eyes, endeared. “That’s them.”

“Ok.” You rub your face, trying to coax yourself back into reality. “You’ll let me know if you or your friends need anything?”.

He nods respectfully and thanks you by name again.

“You’re welcome.” You offer a wave and turn to slink away. You cringe when he calls you again. You turn to find a sheepish grin on his face.

“Do you know my name?” he asks with a knowing look.

You try to be casual. “No, I don't. You don’t have a name badge like me.” You take another step forward, being pulled in like a magnet again, onlookers be damned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you or your friends are. Will you forgive me?” looking up, controlling the urge to pout at him.

He scrunches his nose. “It’s ok. Kind of makes me feel normal.”

Funny, he seems normal to you. Your faces are too close to call this any kind of “schmoozing” or “sucking up” but you can’t drag yourself away.

“Your name?” scanning him from head to toe.

He crooks his mouth and inhales sharply. “I don’t know, I kind of like it this way.” He leans in closer, voice getting lower. “Is there somewhere we can go?” tongue running over his cotton-candy lips. “I promise to introduce myself.” He's painstakingly bold now and not a second too soon because you’re practically putting on a show, center stage. “Or is that a liability too?” he teases.

“I guess that depends on how rough you plan on being,” you taunt back and he exhales a breathy moan. “Follow me.” He takes your hand and you lead him to the office buildings in the stadium, empty on a Saturday.

“Is this part of your job too? Seducing singers?” he asks, as you approach the glass doors. You stop in your tracks before inserting a key into the lock of the building.

“I am NOT seducing you.” Reflecting on the last few minutes, you hardly believe it yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And no,” you continue. “I’ve never done this before.” You insert a key in the lock and turn your wrist.

“So, why me?” a hand still clasped with yours.

“Still figuring that out,” you reply, opening the door. “I’d hate for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you, do you want to stop?”

He pulls the door open. “No.” gesturing for you to walk inside. You hardly make it in before he pins you to the wall right away, hooking his index fingers in your belt loops.

You look at him closely. “How old are you?”

“You first,” he says with a sly smile.

“Old enough.” You give him a playful shove.

Looking at him long again, “20.” you guess, sounding confident.

He grips around your waist. “How do you know that?”

You look up at him, thoughtfully. His lips are millimeters from yours. “Just a feeling,” you whisper. His lips finally press against yours, soft pecks at first. You breathe each other in and your mouth opens to him when he lifts a hand to the back of your neck.

He slots his legs between yours, heatedly pushing you harder against the wall. His lips move to your neck and both pairs of greedy hands squeeze and tug at each other's bodies.

Unfazed by still being visible through glass doors, you slip your hands under the belt of his pants to give his ass a squeeze and push his groin more roughly against you.

It gets more desperate, both of you panting and sweating through your clothes, still against the wall. He lifts up your shirt to grope at your breasts when you hear the speakers.

“Jungguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuk, let’s goooooooo! We need to get ready!”

You peek out of the glass to see two other members shouting for Jungkook into hot microphones. He lets out a heavy sigh and kisses you hard again.

“Jungkook ,” you whisper. Like a prayer falling from your lips, naming the pull of his gravity.

He looks at his watch which prompts you to look at yours. 5 o’clock.

“I have to go. Can I see you later? Are you busy?” still panting and pressed against you.

“Aren’t you?” running fingers through strands of his chocolate hair.

“Later, later. After the concert, 10 or 11. “You’re staying for the concert?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

His name still blares over stadium speakers. He groans and pushes his forehead to yours. It’s a relief that he feels stuck to you too.

You begin to offer, “I have a hotel nearby, you can…”

He laughs. “Sorry, I can’t really do that. Can I have your number? I’ll have my lawyer find you tonight.”

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You know… liability and legal stuff.” A hundred voices tell you to end this right now. And one voice has you unhooking a pen hanging from your name badge and listing digits on his hand.

He plants one more kiss on you and just like that, he’s gone. You let your back slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor, taking a moment before you head back to the hotel to change clothes, put on your staff badge to blatantly take advantage of your job and enter a concert you don’t have tickets for.

You re-enter the stadium without suspicion and blend into the standing room. Any sense of nervousness disappears. You lose yourself in the magic of the show and his talent on stage, now done up and dressed in almost a costume. Still beautiful.

At intermission, a stranger in a suit calls you by name and introduces himself as the lawyer. You walk into an empty office as the stadium still buzzes. He talks and talks and talks. Then, he takes out a stack of paperwork, a non-disclosure contract.

You sign in about a hundred places. You know better, you should be taking time to read and sign carefully but your mind is fogged with the idea of getting your hands back on him, whoever he is.

“Ok. You’re all set,” the lawyer says, after a final signature.

“What happens next?” wondering when you reap the benefits of signing your life away.

“He’ll be in touch, I guess.” The lawyer shrugs and you walk him to the arena exit.

The concert ends and you head to an office to wait, unsure if you should leave the stadium.

Finally, a message from an unknown phone number with an address and hotel room appears on your phone screen. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach. You feel compelled to tell someone where you’ll be going only to remember that you signed an NDA that forbids just that.

You try to reply to the number and an error message immediately returns. “Sender not available”.

What the fuck. You stop and take a deep breath. This could be dangerous and now it’s going beyond “sexy” danger. You try unsuccessfully to convince yourself to stop thinking with your genitals and about the sexy stranger you needed to finish that kiss with.

It doesn’t feel real. You open an internet tab and search his name.

What a mistake. All the blood in your body floods to your core, knowing this man was potentially waiting in a bed for you makes your mind even hazier. Before you can catch up to your thoughts, you rush to your car to drive the short distance to the hotel.

Silent security guards escort you through the lobby and up the elevator. When the doors reopen, Jungkook has his back propped against a wall, expecting you. His hands are in the pockets of sweatpants. He doesn’t look like he did on stage anymore. Not like the pictures. His freshly showered and bare-faced appearance disarms your anxious mind.

“I’ve narrowed down who you are,” you start. “You’re either a big deal or an axe murderer.”

He laughs. “What if I told you neither is true?” He pulls you close by your waist and places a quick kiss on your lips. It’s too casual, like some muscle memory you never knew you had.

“The paperwork? The spoofed phone number?” you gently scold, as he leads you to a door in the hallway.

“You still came,” he says, opening the room door.

“Yeah, what does that say about me?” walking in ahead of him and taking a moment in self-deprecation.

“That you want to finish that kiss as much as I do,” door closing behind him.

You smile to yourself as you face away, heart fluttering at the notion that his idea mirrored yours. You turn to approach him.

“It was a little more than a kiss,” you flirt, placing your arms around his neck.

“Yeah…” his hands wrap around your waist again and his lips hungrily find yours. He bites gently on your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Sorry if that’s a little rough,” he teases, taking his mouth to yours again letting his hands roam. He adds: “I promise i’m not ‘axe-murderer’ rough,” he chides, and you both giggle between kisses. You sink into the familiar and comfortable space, regardless of being actual strangers . You lift off his shirt, eager for what you felt earlier, running hands gratuitously over his chiseled chest and abs.

“Do you want a drink or…” he’s graciously offering between kisses.

“No,” breaking your lips just long enough to reply, knowing he’s got exactly what you need right now.

Clothes are tossed in the air and landing on the floor before he lays you on the bed and the heated pace slows. He mounts on top of you and places slow kisses down your neck and chest while lowering the straps of your bra and kneading your breasts beneath the fabric. He takes nipples into his mouth, warm tongue circling, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your encouraging hands, tangled in his hair.

He moves to your mouth again, offering his tongue, slow but deep. He pulls your panties around your ankles and allows the palm of his hand to slide against your thigh before he can reach his thumb to stroke between your folds, causing you to shudder. He sucks at the tip of his thumb and moves his hips to push his still clothed cock against your center. You wrap your legs around him, urging him closer, needy for his friction.

“Be back,” he says, leaving a peck on your cheek. He walks to a bag on a nearby table, rustles through and retrieves a condom. You sit up on the edge of the bed as he struts back to you. He presents the foil square between 2 fingers. You peel it open, looking up at him. The back of one of his hands strokes your cheek while his other lowers the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing himself. You instinctively grip his shaft to plam slow strokes along his length and take pleasure in watching his eyes roll back.

You release your hand to pull the condom from it’s open wrapper, place it on the tip and use 2 hands to roll it down to the base before discarding the wrapper on the nightstand and pulling his underwear to the floor.

Leaning down to kiss you, he asks, “What do you want?”

You search for the words but opt to stand and silently guide him to sit back on the bed. He’s satisfied to follow your action as you straddle his lap and use your hand to brace his hard cock on your swollen center, rubbing up and down, slicking the rubber further. You guide yourself onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders slightly when you feel how he spreads you open, stretching and adjusting.

He groans when you reach the base, pushing down on your hips and shifting beneath you, getting deeper and widening your stretch. You whimper and squirm as you adjust.

“Too rough?” he teases.

“Not at all, '' you say, lifting your hips again and meeting the base faster. He pushes you down again, lifting his lap up.

“Good,” he breathes out, shakily.

You create a rhythm with your legs lewdly spread and circle your lower body, his shaft grinding against your sensitive walls, encouraged by his quickening breath.

His eyes are glued to your hips, watching them move. He slams you down a little harder, testing you. You both grunt when he meets the hilt.

You encourage his hand on your center, placing his hand on yours and setting the speed for him. He takes the cue and continues on his own, watching your face. You drop your head to his neck. He lifts you by your chin. “Let me see you.” The sensation is too much, and you're embarrassingly close. He quickens his pace below you, your own hips hardly moving anymore. You look down, entranced by his fingers. He uses his free hand to tug back on your hair.

“I said let me see,” you pulse around him at the words, a delighted smile on his face as he watches.

Still inside, he flips you on your back and buries himself balls deep inside you with an audible slap, bed rocking at the motion.

“Too much?” he sounds sincere.

“More,” you reply, challenging him anyway. He thrusts hard into you again with a sinister grin and keeps his pace, watching diligently as you take all of him. You whine at his deep strokes and he pins your wrists above your head, rendering you helpless as the pressure coils again at your center.

His grunts get lighter, whinier as he grips your wrists tighter.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse, and grope at his tensing ass cheeks when he comes. His thrusts become slow and shallow before sliding out of you. He takes a moment to lay his head on your chest before pulling and tying the condom off, tossing it.

He collapses beside you so you’re shoulder to shoulder and you fall into conversation, for too long and too late but you both delight in it, taking in more of each other.

“When can I see you again?” he asks as you prepare to leave, sunrise peeking through the curtains.

You’re a little surprised. The circumstances had you assuming this as a one-night thing.

“What do you mean?” you ask, unsure.

He gives you a suspicious side-eye. “Can I see you again?”

You attempt to shake down the guard you have up and smile at him.

“When?” you question, as his gravity pulls you back to the bed where he lies.

You lie side by side and compare schedules. It would be the first of hundreds of times you do this, comparing calendars and forcing your lives together.

You’re not sure when you stop forcing it but it’s happened. Now, 3 years later, you’re frozen at a fork in the road, torn to make a decision, knowing you can’t continue to drag him through your hesitation. You pick up your bag and head to the front door.

This first memory and a million others flood your thoughts.

When you saw him for the second time, weeks later, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You remember his flattered, cheeky smile.

The time you both got food poisoning and shared the bathroom floor for 3 days.

Surprising him backstage one night and sucking him off before a performance. His face was priceless.

The time he was so exhausted from touring he just slept for the 15 hours you were together. And you contentedly watched until you had to part again.

Taking a spontaneous flight just to get tattoos.

When you told him you loved him on the plane. “I love you.” The words slip out effortlessly, you don’t even remember what you were talking about. He’s pleasantly surprised and almost proud that you say it first. He reciprocates your words and seals it with a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Playing domestic during quarantine and settling into a chosen family when the world comes to a screeching halt.

The look on his face when he fucked you in the mirror last night.

His disappointed face before he got in the shower today.

You don’t notice Seokjin until he speaks, passing by you on his way to the kitchen.

“Leaving, noona?”

You don’t respond, still facing the closed door.

“Do you need help with your bag?” he’s walking up to you now.

“Noona,” he places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you going?”

Part 3/4 HERE

[smutbymia]

Would you write try to write a Johnny x reader x Mark where she's Johnny's girlfriend and he has nipple sucking kink? Something like she's asleep and starts to wake up when she felt someone suckling on her nipple and she's thought it was Johnny, so she let he keep suckling and rans her fingers into his hair for some time but when she opened her eyes, she saw Mark sucking on her nipples while Johnny is watching them?

For mark, there were a lot of positives and negatives when it came to being Johnny’s roommate. The best part about being Johnny’s roommate was the fact that his parents had gifted him the apartment and so rent was mere pennies in comparison to other places in the area. The worst part was that because the apartment was technically still Johnny’s, the dude had almost no boundaries.

Mark was used to it for the most part. He had walked in on many steamy make out sessions his roommate was in the middle of. He’d seen it all — almost. Kissing, groping, even some undressing. He’d usually just tip toe to his room and try to act like he never witnessed a thing but this time was a bit different. You and Johnny had been dating for a few months now and things seemed to be different with you.

You had all gone to school together and so Johnny seemed to be a bit more cautious about fooling around in Marks presence. And since you were a year older than Mark, he had always had a certain level of respect for you as his senior who had tutored him here and there throughout the years. Overall he approved. You were smart, kind, and so pretty that he would even get flustered around you sometimes. Johnny would often tease him about it after you left the apartment.

He was a bit shocked when you and Johnny had started dating but seeing you together made him realize that it was a combination that simply made sense. You and Johnny had always been friends and when romance started to blossom the both of you bravely fell into a relationship that was going well so far.

Mark was halfway out of the door one afternoon when he got a text from Jaemin telling him that class was cancelled and inviting him to come hang out at his dorm. Of course Mark would have loved to accept but truthfuly he was way behind with his schoolwork and so he declined politely and instead marched right back into his room, hoping to make good use of the rest of his afternoon and night by being productive.

A few hours later he heard you and Johnny arrive in the apartment. He had been meaning to come out and say hello since he first heard the familiar sound of keys shaking in the lock of their front door, but he was so caught up in his work after finally making a breakthrough with his studying. He shoved his headphones over his head and continued scribbling math formulas across the pages of his notebook, falling into a trance-like state.

When Mark finally snapped out of it about an hour had passed. He slipped his headphones off his head and was met with silence. He shrugged to himself figuring you had both left and headed out of his room. He could hear the faint sound of a movie playing on the living room television as he approached the kitchen. When he arrived, he was shocked at the scene playing out in front of him. A bowl of popcorn rested on the counter next to you. You were seated on top of the counter with Johnny standing between your legs.

Johnny had been his typical handsy self all evening but when you both went to get popcorn from the kitchen he had playfully lifted you up onto the counter and had pushed your shirt up to your chest to capture your nipples between his fingers before pulling one into his mouth and suckling. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive buds as he alternated between each one before settling on one after awhile and humming against your skin. Your head fell backwards against the cupboards and your eyes fell shut momentarily, enjoying the way his mouth felt all over your body.

Mark couldn’t believe his eyes. Sure, he knew Johnny had a thing for boobs and had seen him grope numerous different sets of them over the years on their living room couch but he had never seen his friend so consumed by a particular task the way he seemed to be consumed by the act of suckling your nipples. And your tits. Wow they were beautiful. The way you softly groaned whenever Johnny would stick his tongue out and —-

Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Your eyes fluttered open and met Marks. He seemed to be so caught up in the moment that it took him a moment to realize he looked just a tad creepy standing there and watching until he saw the expression on your face go from totally blissed out to totally panicked. Johnny was oblivious and reached up to massage at your free breast as he continued sucking, increasing the intensity of his mouth and pulling a loud moan from your lips. You swatted at his shoulder, and he released your nipple with a pop from his mouth as you frantically pulled down your shirt.

“N-noona, I — uh,” Mark stuttered. He backed out of the kitchen looking embarrassed and turning slightly red. Johnny turned to Mark at the sound of his voice.

“Oh,” he said nonchalantly when he realized why you had made him stop.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t — I mean I didn’t mean to.. I’m g-gonna go back to.. my..,” Mark said as he clumsily grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and all but ran back down the hall to his room before shutting the door behind him and resting his back against it.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself. He was beating himself up for being so ridiculous. He shut his eyes, feeling exasperated. But of course the first thing that popped into his mind was the image of you with your legs spread and chest rising and falling as johnny massaged your breasts.

Mark groaned again before opening his eyes and shaking his head. He walked further into his room and froze when he caught his reflection in his floor length mirror. Luckily it wasn’t obvious, but he was certainly very aware of the bulge rising in his jeans.

“Aw, dang...” he complained as he reached down to palm himself through them. He rushed back to his door, opening it just a crack and listening intently. He could hear you and Johnny casually mumbling about the movie. He closed the door softly and flicked his lights off before crawling into his bed, feeling very ashamed of what he was about to do next.

You were seated in the living room trying to focus on the film but felt uneasy. You snuggled up to Johnny’s side before you tilting your head up to look at him. Johnny was watching the movie like it was the best thing he had ever seen. You watched as his eyes crinkled at the sides when something on screen made him laugh.

You nudged him. “Are you sure we shouldn’t check on him, I mean I feel really bad!” you said. Johnny was slightly caught off guard by the sudden statement.

“No it’s fine, trust me,” he said before diverting his attention back to the screen. A few minutes passed before you spoke again.

“But he looked so flustered. He was turning red almost. I think he must have been really uncomfortable!” you said with a look of concern on your face.

“Yeah I’m sure he was uncomfortable alright. He’s probably beating his dick as we speak,” Johnny joked as he put some popcorn into his mouth.

“Stop, Mark is a sweet kid—“ you began.

“Kid? You guys are barely even a year apart,” Johnny laughed before turning his head to you and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Still,” you began as you snuggled back into Johnny’s side, “I can’t stop thinking about it.” Something in Johnny’s brain clicked.

“Festinger’s theory of cognitive dissonance,” he exclaimed. You furrowed your brow in response. Johnny did this sometimes. He was a psychology major after all.

“Huh?” you mumbled.

“It’s a theory that explores the inner conflict people experience when their thoughts, beliefs, and actions aren’t in alignment with each other ,” Johnny muttered as he slid his hand under your shirt and along your skin. He squeezed softly at your chest before dragging his fingers back and forth across your nipples.

You moaned softly. “I’m not following,” you confessed, still unsure what the theory had to do with you wanting to apologize to Mark.

Johnny giggled as he tugged at your nipples and watched your back arch away from both him and the couch.

“You view Mark as some sort of kid in comparison to you,” he began. “Maybe it’s because he’s inexperienced, or quiet, or a bit awkward around you cause he thinks you’re pretty,” he continued as he played with your body like a toy. You moaned softly under his touch. The movie was long forgotten to you but Johnny still had his eyes fixed on the screen.

“You guys are closer in age than we are but you both act like you aren’t. And so, you’re experiencing inner conflict,” he finished.

“W-why would that make me feel conflicted?” you said through breathy moans.

“Before I can answer that question, you have to answer mine first,” he said, sprinkling kisses along your neck. You let out a soft groan in response, urging him to ask whatever it was that he wanted to. You weren’t ready for the next words that left his mouth.

“Did my baby enjoy it? Making another baby flustered?” he said in a low whisper.

You gasped as you felt electricity shoot through your body. Johnny laughed. He didn’t need an answer. He knew very well that something inside of you must have been unlocked.

If he wasn’t so confident and comfortable in your relationship he may have been a little jealous but hey, he was a psychology student after all. Human behaviour was very interesting to observe and he had a theory of his own he wanted to test.

Mark was fresh out of the shower and laying in bed when there was a knock at his door. You had already left the apartment but he still felt a bit weird about facing Johnny so Mark had stayed in his room.

“I ordered pizza!” Johnny yelled from behind the door. He didn’t wait for mark to respond before he walked off to go dig in.

Mark hesitated as he got up from his bed. He was starving, though. Which is what led him to that kitchen in the first place. The images flashed across Marks mind again. It would have been enough to turn him on all over again but he already came twice since he walked in on the both of you a few hours ago.

The first time was when he rushed back to his room. He sat up on his bed and shoved the corner of his pillow in his mouth to muffle his own moans as he jerked at his length over and over again with the image of your tits and blissed out expression in his mind. He sat there quietly, spilling all over himself and his bed sheets as his hips bucked uncontrollably in his dark room.

The second time was in the shower where he routinely jerked off. He finally felt empty enough after and much more clear headed.

He was feeling guilty as hell but that didn’t stop him from marching towards the smell of pizza. He figured It would be okay since you weren’t around. And it was at first.

“Y/n was totally freaked,” Johnny exclaimed, chuckling to himself. The two boys were watching some sort of basketball game on TV. Mark almost choked after hearing Johnny’s words.

“Shit, I wanted to apologize but I just—“ he started.

“She liked it,” Johnny interrupted. He glanced over at Mark, mischief in his eyes as he munched on a slice. Mark froze.

“Wait what?” he asked, baffled. Johnny broke out into laughter.

“H-hyung, stop teasing me. I already feel guilty,” Mark said. Johnny was still laughing when he dropped the remainder of his slice of pizza back into the box.

He dusted off his hands and rested one on Marks shoulder.

“Hyungs not teasing you,” he said, softly mocking Mark and speaking in the third person.

“She totally freaked because she liked it. Looks like the crush you have on my girlfriend isn’t one sided after all,” he said. Marks eyes went wide.

“D-dude? I’m really sorry I swear I didn’t mean to. I don’t want to come between you guys or anything I just-“ Mark started rambling apologetically.

“No offence but I don’t think you could steal her from me, even if you tried” Johnny joked before continuing, “but if you’re really sorry you’ll help me with something”.

“Something that I think you’ll have a lot of fun doing. Just be ready. I hope you aren’t a heavy sleeper,” he finished. Mark felt nervous. He had no idea what Johnny was getting at.

A few days had passed and Mark had succesfully avoided you. Whenever you were back at the apartment with Johnny, he was either in class or out with friends. Honestly, you were a bit nervous after everything that happened. Johnny had uncovered something that you had no idea was even a thought in your head. You felt a bit guilty but he seemed to take it really well. Almost too well.

Everything was normal between you two. You were staying the night like you often did when you felt the familiar feeling of Johnny playing with the hem of your shirt. You always wore loose clothing around him for this very reason. You were very used to him taking a nipple of yours into his mouth in the middle of the night whenever you were cuddled up next to him in bed.

Your eyes fluttered as you fumbled around with the shirt before feeling Johnny’s mouth meet your chest. He dropped a few kitten licks across your nipples, making your core heat up.

You groaned, roping your hands into his hair and pulling him against your breast, making him latch his entire mouth to your sensitive bud. You moaned softly.

“More... I need more,” you whined. You gripped tighter at his hair when you heard a high pitched mewl escape from the lips of whoever the fuck was attached to your chest because you knew straight away that wasn’t a sound that could ever leave Johnny’s mouth.

Your eyes flew open, first settling on Johnny’s figure at the end of your bed. He had his hand buried in his sweatpants and was stroking at his length with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You gasped as you looked down to see Mark. His soft lips rubbed against your skin. His eyes sparkling eyes fluttered open and met yours as he moaned softly again.

“Noona, Johnny made me—“ he tried to say with his mouth still attached to your nipple. The humming of his voice made your head spin as it sent shockwaves through your body. You shook slightly before letting Marks name slip from your lips. The sound alone made him harden in his pants. Johnny got closer, until his mouth was latched against your other nipple and your head fell back against the pillows on his bed as both boys snuggled against you.

You felt tugging at your shorts. Johnny was trying to get them off. You lifted your hips in response as you felt him drag the material down to your thighs before giving up. Your panties followed and soon you could feel his fingers circle around you clit achingly slow, winding you up. You circled your hips to meet every movement of his hand as you felt wetness pool between your legs.

After a few minutes of painful teasing, you felt johnny release your nipple from his mouth and then Mark. The boys whispered between each other as Johnny continued to keep you distracted by making his fingers run through your folds, gathering your juices.

You watched as he lifted his fingers towards Marks lips. The boy hesitated briefly before letting his mouth fall open and wrapping his lips around Johnny’s fingers and sucking them clean.

You groaned as you watched the boys together, bonding over their desire to please you.

“Touch her,” Johnny mumbled as he slipped his fingers back out of marks mouth to continue circling at your clit. You felt marks fingers prod softly at your hole before he let them glide into your entrance, rubbing your insides in all the right places. It didn’t take long before both boys had overstimulated you. With Johnny’s fingers picking up speed on your clit, and marks fingers hitting your g-spot while the both of them assaulted your nipples, your orgasm came crashing through your body. Their names spilled from your mouth.

As you came down from your high, Johnny’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Mark was still suckling softly at your nipple, eyes closed, in a state of relaxation.

“Look at him,” Johnny whispered against your lips. “I think he’s falling asleep and he hasn’t even cum yet,” you said. You nudged mark awake as his eyes fluttered open.

“Mark, are you okay?” you asked sweetly. The boy looked up at you as if you were everything to him — with stars in his eyes. He nodded. Johnny pulled at his chin, guiding him until mark hovered in front of your face. He froze, somehow feeling nervous.

You bridged the gap quickly, pulling him towards you and capturing his mouth in a soft kiss. As expected, Mark was polite and respectful towards both you and Johnny. He relied on you to make the first move and control the pace. You begged for access to his mouth, letting your tongue softly brush against his as you felt him melt into your touch.

Johnny was asleep, mouth still on your nipple when you pulled away from Mark.

“Does he always fall asleep like that?” Mark asked in wonder as he looked down at his hyung resting so peacefully against your naked chest.

You nodded. Mark yawned and moved to get out of bed but you pulled him into you as well.

“Don’t leave,” you cooed. You watched him turn softer as he shrunk into your side, closing his eyes and going back to swirling his tongue around your nipple. You roped your fingers through his hair the way you knew he liked. He was definitely about to have the best sleep of his life.

[islesnucks]

PLEASE SAY SOMETHING - NOLAN PATRICK X READER

So I came up with this while watching today’s game, don't know why exactly but whatever. I didn’t proofread it so it probably has many many mistakes. Also this is my first time writing for patty!

Feedback is always appreciated and so are likes and reblogs! Hope you like it!

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

Summary: confessing your feelings to your friend doesn’t go as planned, a bit of angst but fluff at the end

Masterlist

Add yourself to the taglist!

Nolan wasn’t an expressive person, not very vocal about his feelings. He was always good at hiding his emotions, not that he did it on purpose, he just was like that. He kept most things to himself and you didn’t mind. You got used to having to pay a little extra attention to the small things to tell how he felt, or sometimes just directly asking him what was going through his head.

However as you sat next to him, once again clueless as to what he was thinking, the silence and the impassive look on his face were killing you.

Earlier that day Travis had somehow convinced you that you should tell Nolan how you really felt, that it wouldn’t ruin the years of friendships, that it was clear to see there was more going on and he felt the same. But now as you stare at a very surprised Nolan completely speechless, you wished you hadn’t listened to him.

“Y-you know what? Just forget everything I said.” you started to backpedal, hoping the whole moment could be forgotten.

“I shouldn’t have taken any advice from TK. I mean come on is TK.” A nervous chuckle left your lips as you attempted to joke about it, trying to take off some tension from the moment, but it had no effect on the man by your side.

“I’m gonna go now.” you said and stood up, ready to turn around and leave his apartment, when you felt his hand wrap quickly wrap around your arm on a silent plea to stay.

You looked down at him, but still nothing, not a single emotion could be read on his face.

Maybe it was because after everything you had already said there was nothing left to lose or maybe because you were tired of pretending and bottling up your emotions. Something inside of you snapped and the nerves turned into anger.

He must have known this wasn’t an easy thing to do, it took you a lot of courage and his reaction made you mad. At least he could try and be nice. Let you down easy, soften the blow and pretend things could go back to normal eventually and you could keep on being friends.

But no, here he was selfishly hiding whatever he was feeling. Not letting you go but at the same time not telling you anything, instead forcing you to stay in the terrible silence he was creating.

“Say something Nolan. Please!” You freed yourself from his grip and started pacing restlessly around the room as you talked, not daring to look at him.

“Come on man, get mad at me for ruining years of friendship or even laugh in my face if you want but do something!” You were almost shouting by now. It was not like you to cause a scene, to let your emotions take over like that, but every second of silence only made you madder. You needed a reaction, not even looking for a good one by now, just any type of reaction that could at least tell you how things were going to be from now on.

Nolan on the other hand was still in shock, trying to process everything that had happened the past 5 minutes. He finally got up and started making his way to you, unsure of what his next move was going to be.

“I just confessed my feelings to you and-” you kept on rambling but the words died in your mouth when suddenly Nolan was standing in front of you. He was so close you could feel his fast heartbeat and you were sure he could feel yours, yet you didn’t know what was about to happen.

“Please say something.” you said, trying to sound as confident as you sounded seconds ago, but his piercing blue eyes were so intimidating it ended up sounding like a begging whisper.

He raised his hand and gently placed it in your cheek. Your eyes found his and you held his gaze. For the first time you noticed something in those ocean blue eyes, but before you were able to process it he expressed it with words.

“I love you.”

Now you were the unreadable one and Nolan started to panic. Maybe he had taken it too far, you had only confessed you felt something for him not that you love him. Maybe love was too strong and he was scaring you off. As he looked for a clue of what was going on inside your head he understood why you had lashed out before, it was fucking exasperating.

Nevertheless any doubt he could have disappeared the second he saw your lips curl up into a sweet smile and felt your hand rest on his.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” you teasingly said making his cheeks turn a bit red and earning yourself an eye roll from him.

“Shut up.” he replied with the brightest beam as he leaned down to connect his lips with yours.

Nolan’s lips were soft against yours and the way his thumb tenderly caressed your cheek felt natural, like it was meant to be.

It wasn’t the perfect first kiss, both of you were too happy it was happening to actually stop smiling and properly kiss, but that didn't make it any less passionate.

With this kiss you were sharing all the emotions you had been hiding for so long. All the feelings you thought you had to push away because the other could never feel the same, because you were just friends, right?

Eventually his hands slid down to hold you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer. While yours sneaked to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.

After a couple minutes, or it could have been more maybe, you lost track of time; you pushed away from Nolan abruptly stopping the kiss and making him follow your lips with his eyes still closed. Nolan opened his eyes to shoot you a confused look accompanied by an arched brow. 

“I just realized this means Travis was right all along and we’re gonna have to tell him...” you started to explain.

“And he won’t shut up about it.” he finished your sentence, followed by a loud groan at the thought of how much his friend was going to tease them.

You found Nolan’s dramatism funny, leaning your head back in laughter. His hands in your waist kept your bodies together and he looked down at you as you laughed, still unable to believe you were finally his. You looked up and the man beaming above you and returned the smile.

“It’s worth it tho.”

“So worth it.” he repeated, his lips practically touching yours, before finally reconnecting them.

[beeroses]

Keyed Up

@lilacyennefer​

@write-it-motherfuckers​

^ Thanks to these two blogs for the prompt. It got the writing motor going! And kudos on the gif to the owner, it is not mine! Nor are Tig and the Sons, which I voluntarily relinquish to Kurt Sutter and his brilliant, twisted mind!

Warnings: Language and a lot of not-so-subtle Tig 

Story based on this prompt below : 

Living in Charming wasn’t Plan A. By God, it wasn’t even plan H. Yet, that’s where Y/N’s been living for the last year and a half and it has been most probably the best year ever. Between working 2 jobs and handling, well, let’s be fair, an entire kindergarten of adult bikers, life’s been busy but quite bright and fulfilling. Handing up hanging around the Sons has been a series of happy coincidences that went from meeting them at the diner you worked at to helping bartending on busy weekends at the Clubhouse to them bluntly asking that you helped with bookkeeping. Starting first with the garage, you became quite aware of what was going on around the lot but got no details. But when you started doing the books from the club, they couldn’t hide you their activities anymore. Instead of fleeing, like they thought you would, you actually found a way to possibly care about them anymore. Instead of the whole thing scaring you, it actually got you very protective of them and more scared of them getting hurt than you getting mixed in the very bloody scene they played on. 

One Son brought a side of you that you didn’t know existed, before meeting him : something along the lines of a momma bear with her cub or a giant mountain gorilla with his offspring. The question remained though as to which came first? Did you start worrying about Tig more because of much he knew just how to put himself in the worst possible scenarios? Or did you over exaggerate the actual amount of danger surrounding the man? One way or another, although you always made sure everyone was alright, you paid extra attention for any kind of scratches or heavy bleeding on Tig. 

- We’re off on a run for a couple of days, Sweetheart, will you be able to come keep an eye on the garage, Jax asked you. 

- Of course, have some books to finish up anyways and it’s gonna be so damn peaceful without all of you around to bother me! 

- You do know you’re faking bothered and you’re not even good at it, right ? Tig asked you, smirking while making you blush slightly. 

- It’s not because Y/N answers your every needs and calls that you’re not a bother, Jax replied, rolling his eyes at the obvious manoeuvre Tig was trying to pull. 

- No, it’s because I’m Y/N’s favorite, he answered back, putting a very confident arm comfortably around your shoulders, pulling you to him, while your face felt so hot, an egg could’ve fried. 

You quickly got up, mumbling something to do on the something about something that you promised to something and disappeared in the other room. The boys were left chuckling about it and Tig was left wth a tingling all along his arm, where he held you. 

When the boys left, you finally showed yourself again to say goodbye and tell them that everything was under control. 

The hours and days ticked by painfully slowly while the Sons were off doing God knows what with God knows who. You managed to close a lot of books that were piling up but deeply missed the ruckus that the boys brought around the clubhouse : it made it alive. 

You did have many very decent qualities to you, but being the kind of person that always had a phone around in case of emergencies wasn’t one of them. Which meant, it often stayed on your bedside table or on the kitchen counter for the entire day, because ou forgot it there that morning. You always said it made you mysterious but for most, it just made you impossible to reach. Calendars have always been a big mess as well. Never fully knowing which day it is, you still always found yourself at the right place where you’re supposed to be. 

Leading to that evening. It was engraved in your memory that the boys were coming tomorrow therefore, obviously, they couldn’t be coming tonight, right? 

You went out with friends for an old-fashioned diner-movies-gossiping, which basically always ended in : When are you and Tig finally get together? And you desperately changing the subject, blushing and babbling about him being just a good friend, nothing more, just like the others. our friends laughing that you could actually believe yourself. 

The thing is, tomorrow would not be the day the boys arrived home because tonight was. And your cellphone may have been beeping and lightening up and ringing, the fact it was tuckered under a pillow on your couch made it absolutely impossible for you to notice it. 

You came home fairly late that evening, fiddling with your keys when you heard loud noises coming from the inside of your house. Panicked, you took  a flower pot from your porch and slowly unlock the door and opened it. Peeking inside, you waited for indications as to where the sound was coming from. You heard nothing for a while and decided to go in slowly to try and found out what was going on. And then, coming out of your bedroom door with a baseball bat in his hands stood… Tig. Fucking. Trager. You put the flower pot down and opened the lights to see him bleeding from his arm and with a scratch on his head. 

- WHAT THE HELL TIGGY?? 

- WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, WE’VE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU FOR 2 HOURS STRAIGHT, I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT YOUR CELLPHONE??

You blushed slightly, realizing your phone was left at home and the boys were actually worried about you. You took it from under the pillow and threw a shy smile at Tig. 

- Oops… Hey! Wait a minute. How did you actually get in?

You pushed pass him, ignoring the bleeding he had on his arm for another minute while you went to look at your bedroom window. You turned back at him and sighed, rolling your eyes in *faked* annoyance 

- You have got to stop breaking into my house.

He smiled coyly at you. 

- I wouldn’t have to if you’d just give me the keys, while throwing you a flirty wink. 

You grabbed his unhurt arm and dragged him to your bathroom where you could deal with his injuries. You forced him to take a seat and took upon yourself to find something to treat him. While you looked for alcohol swabs, he took his sweet time detailing your face, your eyes and your body in the nice clothes you decided to wear to go out. When you turned around, you saw his eyes glued to you and couldn’t help your blushing. You dealt with his minor injury quickly and threw all the stuff you used away. While your back was slightly turned to him, he grabbed your waist and pulled you on his lap. Feeling his breath on your neck and on the soft skin right behind your ear made you both giddy and very nervous. 

- I’m not kidding, if you’d just give me that key of yours… he murmured, lips close to your ear

- Tiggy, you just threw yourself through my bedroom window, I don’t think giving you the key would be safe, you mocked, trying to keep some kind of composure. 

- What if instead of crashing through your window, I wanted to come crash here, sometimes, he insisted teasingly, while you felt his nose in the crook of your neck and his hand on your thigh, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

- Tig… you breathed out.

Hearing his name being said so close to a moan made him turn your head towards him and pull you into a steamy kiss. After a while (could’ve been a minute, could’ve been three hours, you really did suck with time), the two of you pulled away to try and catch a breath. You stood up, turned around and left the bathroom. Tig, left alone with wide eyes, started freaking out, thinking he went too far, too fast, again. But this time, he bit his tongue for pushing away someone he truly cares about. Panicked and wild-eyed, he gets up and starts following you to explain but bumps into you when he gets out of the bathroom. 

Standing there, with a crooked smile on your face, you grabbed his hand to pull him into another kiss while discreetly slipping your key in the hand you were holding. You felt him smile against your lips while he grabbed you to pull you even closer to him. 

Nothing needed to be said. He had your key and you had no certainty that he wouldn’t still break into your house just because. But you sure wouldn’t have it any other way, because he may had your key now, but you had him and it’s all that mattered. 

[ivyglow]

When you love someone | Mat Barzal

A/n: I like this piece, it’s small and fluff and I hope you guys like it as well! I’m also proud of myself because the gif on the media is mine  *my gif* -screams internally and cries in Spanish- lol Anyway, let’s not forget @sebs-aston shout out for proof reading this <3 you’re great, Liv! 

Request:  #63 & #8, soft barzal. Thank you 😊 8.“I love you and I’m terrified”  63. “Are you throwing rocks at my window?”

Word count: 1.3k 

Warnings: none, just mention of a fight and lots of fluff

Summary: sometimes all it takes is time away and a fight to make someone realize they’re in love, at least that was what it took to Mat admit his feelings for you. 

The air was cold and he felt even colder shifting every second on his bed. His own room never felt so empty and icy, because it’s been a while since it was only him there. Usually, your socks would be on the floor, a pair of yoga pants draped around his chair, every once in a while a random bra would spark around in rather vivid colors. 

Mat doesn’t even remember how the argument started, but he remembers clearly how it ended: with you running out of his apartment because his pride got the best of him and he wasn’t able to apologize right away. He could’ve grabbed your hands and kissed you, hugging you until both of you were calm and ready to discuss things in a less hurtful manner, but instead he just watched you leave. He watched the door close and heard the car, and he wished you were louder when you did it so that he wouldn’t be left alone with the silence right after. He wouldn’t be forced to deal with his empty apartment. 

He tried to analyze things in his head after the first hour, he changed clothes and laid in bed while his head went from the first day you two met to the current day, just five shy months. And in five months, he was already considering asking you to move in with him. Hell, he was missing you after an hour without you. 

Can you love someone just five months into the relationship? 

He pondered. 

Was there a different explanation for him missing you so heartily? 

Mat sighed.

He never said that he loved you, and neither did you. Maybe because you didn’t feel it yet? Or maybe because you wanted him to say it first? He didn’t know, but he remembered his mom telling him how she knew she was in love with his father during their third date. 

Of course, you can love someone five months into the relationship! 

Maybe he loved you even before these five months. 

Mathew cursed himself, grabbing his keys and speeding out of his apartment to yours. A twenty-minute drive that he made in ten minutes. His mind tried to trick him into giving up because maybe things wouldn’t work out, maybe it was not love -which he cursed once again-, remembering the throb he felt in his heart when you left, or the happiness when he would get home to find you there without him, just like it was your house, sometimes sleeping, sometimes reading, always ready to receive him with hugs and kisses. 

Your buzzer was broken and he didn’t have the keys. It was now almost two am and he didn’t want to make a scene, but he also didn’t want to leave and wait any longer to tell you how he felt. 

Mat considered his options while he kept his eyes on the ground, just in time to see some rocks. 

Yeah, that should work. 

He would make it work.

Grabbing the smallest ones he angled his arms on your window, he probably wouldn’t miss it, your apartment was on the second floor, just three windows up from where he was, however, you were a heavy sleeper and the chances of you waking up with rocks against your windows were small to none. 

He needed to try anyway. 

And so he did. Mat threw at least five rocks before something shifted in the window and he saw your face. You were very much awake, and you were clearly crying. He felt another pang in his heart.

“Are you throwing rocks at my window?” your eyebrows rose, you were torn between thinking it was funny, lovely, or just annoying. 

“Can you buzz me in?”

You were gone for a second and he thought that was it, that you would ignore him, give him what he probably deserved after the argument. But when he hears the lock of the door a rather gentle smile spreads on his face, there was still a chance. Maybe you loved him. 

He never made two rounds of stairs so fast, and it wasn’t even a minute before he was at your door, hands shaking and fingers ready to know when you sprung the heavy wood open.

“What do you want, Mathew?” you ask sniffing. “You forgot to put the cherry on your speech during our argument? Are there any other words you wanna use to hurt me? What could you possibly have to say?” 

He wanted to punch his own damn face, but that wasn’t the time. He could feel guilty any other hour, now he had only minutes before you closed the door on him, and he knows you would do it if he didn’t prove he wasn’t there to hurt you any longer. 

“I love you,” he simply blurts out, your eyebrows raising even higher, but this time your face is surprised. He saw the way you swallowed and shifted on your foot, “and I’m terrified,” Mat finished his sentence. 

He counted the seconds before your reply, considering your reaction he was already pondering the possibility of the feeling not being mutual. It was forty seconds before you spoke and the only thing you said was, “what are you terrified about?” 

Mat looked at his sneakers, hands going to the pocket of his sweatshirt, “I’m terrified of what could happen to us in the near future, I’m terrified I may not be here in New York three years from now, I’m terrified because I’ve never loved someone romantically before, and I’m even terrified you’re not gonna love me back, or that I’m gonna end up hurting you…” he went on, the anguish clear on his eyes, the way his lips would twist with each sentence or how his right hand would leave his pocket to go to his hair.

You can feel your face wet with tears again but this time you’re not angry or sad, you’re happy and warm and hopeful. Bringing him closer by his sweatshirt you stay on your tiptoes before lacing your hands around Mat’s neck. 

He’s close and suddenly things are feeling better.

“You don’t need to worry about not being in New York in three years, or five, or ten, we’re gonna figure a way out, we’re gonna hurt each other sometimes, but love is also forgiving and being better for the other and for yourself, Mathew. And you’ve been making me a better person since the first time we met,” you could feel his hot breath against your lips, nose nudging yours, hands squeezing your waist and bringing your body impossibly closer. “And if there’s something you don’t need to be terrified about is me not loving you.” 

He smiles and it’s a blink of an eye before your lips crash together in a messy kiss, there are tongues, and teeth, and salty tears, but above all else, there’s the recognition of your love. And it was just the two of you against everything. 

“I wanna hear you say,” he whispers dragging his mouth to your neck, biting and leaping lovingly.

You breathe before squeezing him and bringing your lips to his ear, “I love you.”

His lips are on yours again in a matter of seconds, and when you take a second to gasp for air you know he wants to hear it again by the look on his face. So you whisper one more time how much you love him and you promise yourself to always remind him how much he means to you, not even aware that he was thinking exactly the same. You would try every day, and sometimes it would fail, but you had him and he had you, and both of you had love, so you knew things were going to work out.

Taglist: @smit41 @mybrokenshitthoughts @linasobsessions @hoiyheadharpies @d00dlebob @barbienoturbby​ @petey-patty @iwantahockeyhimbo @barzysamdmarnersbitch @elitebarzal​ If you wanna be added to my taglist you can send my your user in here

If you want to read more of my works here’s my masterlist and if you want to support my writing hit the reblog and like button <3 feel free to send me a pm or an ask telling me what you thought about this piece! 

[wakatvshi]

Hello! Since request is open may I ask for one where.. y/n likes jean, but they know about his crush on mikasa but still want to pursue jean. you can make it angst but with happy ending please? or not, whatever you prefer. i know it's such a vague request but i don't know what else to add. thank you so much! have an amazing day!

I really hope this is what you wanted because this kind of got away from me? But I really hope you like it because I enjoyed writing it!

warnings: none

wordcount: 1413

You were sitting at dinner listening to Jean talk to Connie and Sasha. Now and then Sasha would lean over and talk to you but she’d stopped trying that a while ago. They all seemed to have gotten the message that you weren’t in the mood for much talking. There was a small part of you that felt guilty about it, they didn’t deserve to be put off because of you were in a bad mood. But no matter how much you tried to be sociable with them but you couldn’t force it. 

Sometimes your eyes would shift to Jean. It seemed every time you did though, he was looking at Mikasa. You hated it, you hated that he never looked at you. You understood it, Mikasa was a great person and god she was gorgeous but she never looked at him. He spent so much of his time wanting her and you weren’t sure he even noticed you were there half the time. It wasn’t fair, if you could force this crush away you would but nothing you’d done so far had worked. You’d sat there and told yourself all the bad things about Jean you could think of, but that didn’t work. You still wanted him.

Running your hand down your face you hadn’t noticed everyone leaving the room until you were being nudged. Looking up you were surprised to see Jean looking at you, an eyebrow raised and looking as if he was waiting for you to do something. “Did you not hear Sasha?” 

Again the guilt grew, you hadn’t heard anything she said. You didn’t even realize she oe Connie had left. “Sorry.” Your face heat up at the fact that you’d been too busy staring at Jean to hear her. “What did she say?”Glancing at the door she’d left out of you wished you’d noticed and went with her. The last thing you wanted right now was to be left alone with Jean. 

Instead of telling you what she said he just looked at you. There was a part of you that felt self-conscious when he did, you weren’t good at being scrutinized. Not by Jean. “Are you okay?” 

You knew that question was coming , of course you knew it. As much as you hated the fact that he didn’t see you the same way you saw him, he was still your friend and he did care at least like that. Letting out a small sigh you nodded, “I don’t know. I’ve just been really ti-” Jean wasn’t looking at you. Mikasa was across the room talking to Armin and he was looking right at her.

Letting out a bitter laugh his eyes went back to you, he at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself. “Sorry I was just… you know.” He rubbed the back of his neck and you could see a blush creep up his neck. 

You tried to force a smile, force anything but the longer you looked at him the angrier you got. The second you thought he was going to take time to care about you. “Screw you Jean.” You pushed past him, ignoring him when he called out to you. There were already tears welling in your eyes and there was no way you were going to let him see you cry. 

Passing by the other three that lingered in the room you heard Eren say your name but you didn’t stop to talk to him either. If you stopped you’d probably say something to Mikasa and that wasn’t fair to her, you didn’t want to take anything out on any of them. Except maybe Jean. But even then you didn’t have it in you to do that. You wanted to be able to yell and scream at him, tell him how much of an asshole he was. When it came to him though, you were weak and you hated that. 

Anyone else you’d have no problem standing up to them but around Jean you just fell apart. You were in love with him, how it happened you didn’t even know. One day you were just listening to Jean talk and it hit you, you loved him. This man was everything in your eyes and no matter how much you tried to stop it, when you saw him again it came back. Right now you’d give anything to make it stop and just go back to seeing him as a friend. 

Hearing Jean’s voice behind you, you clenched your jaw and did your best to ignore him. You kept walking, you didn’t care where you ended up as long as it was away from him. “Come on YN talk to me!” He was getting closer and short of breaking out in a full sprint you weren’t going to get away from him. “What’s wrong with you?” 

That stopped you, he had the nerve to ask you what was wrong? Standing there, you stared at the ground in front of you, was he serious? There wasn’t any way he didn’t know why you were pissed. He couldn’t be that stupid. When he touched your shoulder you spun around to look at him, “Are you serious?” Jean looked surprised at your outburst. “You asked me what was wrong and then ignored me.” 

“When did I ignore you? When I looked at Eren?” Sure it was Eren. “He was yelling again of course I was looking at him. It’s hard not to when he’s making a scene.” 

Holding up your hands you stepped back from him,“You were looking at Mikasa. I saw you, you’re always looking at Mikasa.” You couldn’t hold back the bitterness. Even if there was nothing you could do about it, you were still bitter. 

Jean was quiet for a few seconds, you could see him holding something back but you didn’t know what. “It wasn’t-” he stopped himself, “You saw wrong.” 

The same blush from earlier was coming back to his face and it sent you over the edge. The annoyance, the jealousy and the heartbreak bubbled out of you. “Why her?” Jean’s eyebrows raised but you continued. “She doesn’t… she doesn’t care about you like that. You know that. You know she’ll only ever see you as a friend.” Maybe it was cruel to say but you couldn’t stop it. “You look at her like she’s everything and you don’t even notice that… that I would give you everything.” The laugh that escaped you was almost hysterical. You regretted the words but you continued. “You know how it feels when you look at Mikasa and she’s staring at Eren? That’s what it’s like when I look at you. Every time I think I’ve done something to get your attention you don’t notice!”

Letting out a frustrated groan you noticed Jean reaching out to you and you jerked your arm away, “Y/N…” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself you closed your eyes, you needed to calm down. You were so close to breaking down in front of him, if what you were doing now wasn’t already considered a breakdown. “Just tell me why it’s her.” Still you didn’t look at him, “Tell me what’s wrong with me, why everything I’ve done to get your attention doesn’t work?” He didn’t say anything, of course he didn’t. You weren’t sure what you expected, Jean wasn’t good with emotions. You knew that. 

Not to mention the fact that he didn’t like hurting his friends and he knew that whatever answer he gave would hurt. But his silence was enough of an answer for you. Nodding to yourself you turned towards him, forcing a smile. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, that was why you were trying to get away from him. “Jean don’t worry ab-” Before you could finish speaking his hands were on your face and his lips were against yours. 

For a few seconds you were frozen, your mind trying to catch up with the fact that Jean was kissing you. Slowly your hands moved to rest on his raised arms, barely able to kiss back before Jean was pulling away, his hands still holding onto your face. “Mikasa was safe. I knew she didn’t like me I couldn’t… risk messing up with you.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn’t look away. “But I always notice you. I’ve always noticed you.” And you believed him, everything in you believed him. 

[bratkook]

one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit. 

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face. 

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured. 

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs. 

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face. 

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place. 

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea. 

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare. 

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain. 

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder. 

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this. 

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot. 

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.  

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on. 

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you. 

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him. 

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.” 

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry. 

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression. 

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more. 

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind. 

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face. 

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon. 

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city. 

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him. 

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture. 

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again. 

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work. 

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation. 

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again. 

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

[aonebear]

Haikyuu HeadCannon’s: You coming home extremely tired

SFW headcannon’s about how the boys would treat you if you come home extremely tired for various reasons. 

Includes: Iwaizumi, Semi, Daichi, and Koganegawa (all time skip) 

Iwaizumi 

Your shift was supposed to end four hours ago. Except your manager suddenly pushed a pile of work on to you. Claiming he had urgent matters to attend to and you were the only capable of finishing off the paperwork. You already texted Iwaizumi to let him know that you wouldn’t be home before him today. 

Putting your key in the front door and pushing it open the smell of food hits your nose. The smell was heaven and made you painfully aware of the fact that you hadn’t been able to eat dinner yet. Your boyfriend must have decided to make dinner when he got back from coaching the boys. 

Walking into the apartment you set your things down and head over to the kitchen. Where you see Iwaizumi leaning over the sink, the sleeves of his black button-up shirt pushed up past his elbows cleaning the dishes. The sight makes your heart swell with love. Coming up behind him you wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his back. Feeling the last of your stress from the day melt away and just leaving you feeling tired.

“Hey baby,” Iwaizumis voice rumbles in your ears. 

You just hmm back a greeting but don’t surrender your spot. The two of you stay like this for a moment until he turns off the water and shifts in your arms so that he’s now turned to face you with his back leaning against the sink and your face is now in his chest. He leans down and places a kiss on the top of your head and wraps you into his arms.

“I’m proud of you for working so hard today baby.” He said making your heart swell with love.

“Thank you,” you said, lifting your face up to look up at him “for taking care of me tonight even though you had to work as well.” 

“Don’t worry baby. Tonight’s my turn to spoil you.” He bends down and places a kiss on your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the dinner table we’re he already had the dinner plated and set out before you. He really was spoiling you tonight.

Semi 

A few more minutes you remind yourself as you type away at your computer. The thought of taking off your shoes and putting on your comfortable pjs being the only thing to give you any motivation. You had decided to make a trip to the library to finish your University paper because your boyfriend Semi stayed home to work on writing a new song and you just wanted to listen as he worked instead of writing this paper. Except it was due soon and you really needed to make a good amount of progress today.  

The sound of your keyboard was the only thing keeping you company until your phone dinged. You finished typing out the part you were working on afraid to lose your train of thought before checking the message. You smiled once you realized the message was from Semi. The only thing in the message was your reward and attached to the message was an audio file. Closing your laptop you plugged in your headphones admittedly no longer caring about the paper.

The stress and tension you felt in your body slowly began to melt away as Semi’s smooth voice began to feel your ears. The song was about a girl that he was deeply and madly in love with. He talked about all the things that she did that just made him love her more and more everyday. You could feel your face heating with a blush because who else could he be possibly talking about. Throwing all your stuff into your bag and shooting Semi a text saying you would be home soon you hurried out of the library.

Not really paying attention to where you were going, your only focus being on getting back home to Semi you didn’t notice the person coming towards you. You accidentally bumped into the but it didn’t slow you down much. You gave a quick apology for not paying attention and was off again.

“Where are you rushing to?” the soothing voice said to you.

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Turning around you are met with the sight of your boy smiling at you. His hands in his jacket pocket clearly he had been standing out here for a minute. He must have planned this once he finished working on the song. He made his way here and sent you the message and waited for you to come out to surprise you. He opened his jacket as if to say come here. Just like that you were rushing towards him and threw yourself into his chest wrapping your arms around him and you could feel his body shake as he laughed at you. 

“Thank you,” you say into his chest as he wraps his arms around you surrounding yourself in his warmth. 

“Your welcome,” he says before taking your hand and guiding the two of you down the street. “Let’s go home, you worked hard enough today.” He leans over to give a quick soft kiss on the lips before continuing home. 

Daichi

Everything hurt. Every single part of your body ached from your job. You worked part time and most days it was fine, nice even but when the truck came full of that week's stuff things were anything but nice. You and your coworkers spent the day opening boxes and shelving things. You were also in need of some extra cash before the new semester at university started and so you had picked up an extra shift that day. To say that you felt every muscle and they hurt was more of an understatement. 

When you walked into the room that you and your boyfriend Daichi shared. You didn’t even bother changing clothes before throwing yourself into bed. Daichi was still at the police station finishing off his shift for the night. He was older than and had already finished university and started working full time. Thinking back on it, when you meet your boyfriend in university he was a student of good academic standing, worked part time and was a part of the university volleyball team. How did he manage to juggle all of that and make it seem so easy you would never understand. You didn’t get much time to think about it either because your fatigue got the better of you and you drifted to sleep. 

The warm and heavy feeling of someone touching you startled you awake sometime later. The touch wasn’t unwanted though the hand was massaging the soreness out of your calf muscles.  

“Daichi baby?” You questioned sleepily 

“Yea I just got home.” He said his hands working their way up your leg now to your lower back we’re he continued to apply gentle pressure to your sore body. 

“How do you do it?” You questioned him thinking back to the thought you had earlier while also relishing in the feeling of his hands. 

“Do what?” He asked his hands now making their way to your upper back and shoulders where you carried the majority of your stress. 

“Everything. You do everything and do it all seemingly effortlessly but I know you pour your soul into everything also which is why I love you.” You say sleepy, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m working hard enough for not only myself but so I can continue to be by your side.” You felt his weight on the bed shift and his hands moved along with the rest of him. Even though his hands had just left your body you already missed their presence.

 “Please look at me (y/n).”  You heard him say. 

Slightly confused you sit up and turn around to face your boyfriend like he asked but you never get to see his face because his lips are on your as soon as you turn around. At first you are slightly shocked but it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself within his kiss. It was comforting and made you feel at home. Much too early for your liking he pulled away just enough so your lips were no longer touching but still close enough that he could lay his forehead against yours. 

“You are more than enough.” He said before he pressed his lips to yours once more. 

Koganegawa

You threw the door to your apartment open without much care and threw your bags next to the door. You knew you should properly put them up but right now you couldn’t be bothered all you wanted was peace. Your shift felt like it was much longer than it really was and it went on refusing to end. Then to top things off you ended the night with probably the nastiest customer you’ve ever had to deal with. 

“(y/n) is that you!!” You heard Koganegawa yell from somewhere within the apartment. 

The sudden loudness of his voice pierced through your already present headache. Which just added to your aggravation. You didn’t reply and just headed to where you thought the voice was coming from. You had guessed right because when you came into the kitchen you saw your boyfriend bent over the stove focusing intently on whatever he was cooking. Walking closer to him you saw that he was making your favorite pasta dish and it made you smile. Usually you were in charge of cooking and he did the dishes in the house. It was just how things had been since you two started living together. Every once in a while though he would surprise you by cooking and it usually meant that he had been practicing the dish in secret when you were at work. 

It wasn’t too long after you took in the scene before you that Koganegawa looked up and his face broke into a wide smile upon seeing you. “(y/n) welcome home! I made your favorite!” He said in his booming voice that normally would make you laugh but this time it only made you wince from the suvarity of your headache. 

He noticed right away and left his place in front of the stove and quickly ran over to you and cupped your face in his hands. Staring at your face he looked you over. You understood by the change in his facial expression that you looked as bad as you felt. You started to open your mouth but he put his finger over your lips and shook his head at you. Not sure why he wasn’t letting you talk, you gave him a confused look and all he did was shake his head and place his hands on your shoulders and turn you around. Once you are fully facing the opposite direction he walks you to the small table you have in the apartment and sets you down. Without a word he turns and heads back towards the kitchen. 

“Koganegawa?” You call after him confused and the sound of the kitchen cabinets opening and closing is the sound you are greeted with. 

Before long your boyfriend returns with a glass of water in one hand and his hand closed around what you assume is medicine in the other and you smile. He sets the glass on the table and waits for you to open your hand so he can deposit the medicine in it. You take it gratefully. Then he turns to leave again still not having uttered a word. Honestly you were pretty surprised that he could go this long without saying a word. You also knew that it was probably killing him to be so quiet. 

“It’s okay to talk, you know that just… not so loud this time please…” Again you were met with silence and you had a slight fear that you might have hurt his feelings. You were about to stand up and go after him when he came back with two plates in his hands full of pasta and placed it on the table. 

“Sorry,” He said in a softer voice this time “I didn’t know that you were hurting. I just wanted to help you after you got off of work.” 

You smiled and reached over and grabbed his hand. He was now sitting across from you at the table after setting the plates down. “You did help me.” you put a spoon full of pasta in your mouth to further prove your point. 

He stares at you like a puppy waiting to be told they did a good job and you can’t help but smile. “The pasta is perfect.” You say and give him a thumbs up. 

He brings your hand that was still laced with his up to his lips and kisses it before replying with a smile, “Anything for you.” 

[lizbotw]

hii can you write hcs on shinso having a gf who’s super nice to everyone and doesnt stand up for herself but stands up for other people

Shinsou With a S/O that Stands Up for Others But Not Themselves

hey! yes, i can ;) also, although you said girlfriend, it’s a bit more gender neutral so i hope that’s fine! hope you enjoy these and let me know what you think ♡

Shinsou Hitoshi

Your caring and helpful personality was one of the major reasons Shinsou fell in love with you in the first place.

The strong sense of justice you always embodied as you put others in front of yourself quickly drew his eye when he spotted you one day after school, standing up for a business course student that was being bullied for being weak by some other U.A. kids.

The way you told off the bullies and made sure they knew that everyone came to this school for different reasons and that’s why they chose the courses they did?

The way you said that above all everyone was trying to improve themselves here and that everyone had different strengths that still mattered no matter what it was?

The way you checked up on the business student to make sure they were alright and helped them off the floor and back to their feet after the bullies had ran away when you threatened to call a teacher?

Shinsou couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

With his quirk being mistaken so many times as a villainous one, Shinsou was obviously very passionate about becoming a hero and not only did you seem to embody the caring nature a pro needs, but you were also understanding of those who were misunderstood. He felt like you were exactly what he needed in his life.

Shinsou wasn’t exactly the type to get hung up on dating or crushes, but after a few times of spotting you in school and still being unable to turn away, he knew he had to do something about this. That’s why he made it his personal mission to get closer to you.

Originally, he thought it might be nice to have someone else to talk to that seemed to understand him, but that friendship soon grew into more and before either of you knew what was happening, you were dating and the happiest you’d ever been.

However, as Shinsou got closer to you, he began to realize a few things behind your outward persona of “the nice model student who bakes every one cookies and speaks out against bullying.”

When you were just friends, he had brushed the issues off as him overreacting, but now that you were dating and spending so much more time together than before, they were impossible to ignore—it was clear to him that you refused to put yourself first.

Whether it be you apologizing whenever someone did something to you even though it was clearly their fault, you sitting there and not saying anything if anyone was mean to you, or you simply always going out of your way to help your classmates, it all began to concern Shinsou. This passive, timid side of you was a sharp contrast to the fiery personality he had fallen in love with.

The tipping point was when one day a girl accidentally spilled her lunch all over you and started yelling at you for bumping into her. Some of it had spilled on her, but it was only a few drops, compared to you who had gotten most of it all over you. Your uniform was absolutely trashed. You were apologizing profusely to her and promising that you would clean up the mess.

As you turned to go grab some napkins to give to the girl to wipe herself off, Shinsou grabbed your arm and stopped you. You looked at him, confused, until he started dragging you out of the lunch room.

You were struggling against his grasp and saying you needed to finish helping the girl because it was your fault. His heart absolutely broke in two at that. Even when others were rude to you, you were still so nice to them.

“Hitoshi, what the fuck, stop, you’re making a scene.”

“No, you are. Quit yelling,” he replied simply, sighing.

In the hallway, he released his grip on your arm and instead held your hand, not wanting to let go in case you ran off to go back.

“What was that back there?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to shake him off. His grip held fast and you eventually gave up, letting your fingers curl comfortably around the familiar bumps and curves of his hand. You two continued to walk through hallway and further away from the scene of the incident, much to your chagrin.

Shinsou pursed his lips, thumb smoothing over the back of your hand in small circles just like he did whenever you were stressed about deadlines or needed to be lulled off to sleep (naps dates were common with you two). “(Y/N)...”

He told you that it wasn’t your fault at all that the other girl hadn’t been paying attention and that you were the one who should be mad at her.

“But Hitoshi, I’m the one who bumped into her-”

He held up his free hand to silence you, frustrated expression taking over his features at the idea of you even feeling the slightest bit of guilt over this. “No, you didn’t. Did you forget I was with you the whole time? I saw what happened.”

When you tried to protest, he just kept going, letting you know that you don’t always have to worry about others and need to put yourself first sometimes. After all, how can you help other people if you’re burnt out from letting yourself get stepped all over all the time?

As an example, he brought up that time you offered to do most of the group work on a project because your group didn’t seem to like the topic. Obviously they enthusiastically agreed, but as a result you ended up pulling all nighters all week to finish it in time and did poorly on the test you had that week as well since you had no time to study.

You went quiet at his words, blinking back tears. You bit your tongue, squeezing his hand tighter.

You started to apologize for not realizing that before, but he interrupted you midway through your sentence, stopping you in the hallway, pausing your long strides during the walk, and cupped your face so you were forced to look at him.

He let you know it was okay and that he wasn’t mad or anything. He was just worried about you.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry, Toshi. I’m so sorry...”

“(Y/N), it’s practically my job to worry about you.” Shinsou cracked a smile at that, hoping to make you feel a little better. “I would be a pretty bad boyfriend if I didn’t, huh?”

You managed to grin through the few tears that had started to slip out of your eyes and quickly wiped them away before they travelled too far down your cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so,” you agreed softly, laughing.

After he made you promise to start putting yourself first a little more, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and you giggled at that. His heart warmed at you seeming to cheer up, even if it was just a little.

With that, you two walked hand in hand to the teachers’ office where you asked for a new uniform for the day since there was no way you could keep wearing yours right now. Shinsou even waited for you to finish changing into it, not caring if he was late, and walked you back to class, glaring at the girl from lunch when he spotted her in the hallway.

From that day on, Shinsou made sure that he let you know when you were overworking yourself for others too much and when you needed to think about yourself more. He wished he had said something sooner as soon as he realized the problem, but at least now he knew he could take care of you properly and you seemed more than grateful for his help.