#take me back to the days when we all made fun of this 'pop music bad i was born in the wrong generation grr kids these days' shit

[marklikely]

functionally zero difference between dudebros who get angry at a teenage girl for wearing a nirvana t shirt and tumblrinas having a meltdown that an extremely popular kate bush song was used in a tv show

[theragethatisdesire]

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren���s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

[eyesofshinigami]

Boyfriend Privileges

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"

WC: 959

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.

Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.

Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it. 

But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane. 

Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood. 

Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life. 

That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back. 

They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night. 

“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-

“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.

Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…” 

Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”

“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…

Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in  the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 

It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”

“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed. 

“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”

That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.

“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together. 

Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?” 

He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”

The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background. 

“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out. 

Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”

It’s worth the noise coming from the back.

[jjkamochoso]

I Think I Like This Little Life

Nanami x gn!reader

Fluff

Nanami and reader have an adult conversation…

Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive in one part

“Kento.”

“Hm?”

“Are we boring?”

You and Nanami finally had a day off where neither of you were completely exhausted, nor were you called off in some sketchy part of the city to fight curses or held up in your offices, catching up on paperwork. When you woke up that quiet Saturday morning, you felt strangely relaxed. Nanami greeted you with his signature sleepy smile and a kiss on the forehead when he got out of bed. Since it was the weekend, you figured it was the best time to do all the fun things you’ve wanted to but never had the time for. However, you found yourself rain checking invitations for lunch with your cousin and clubbing with your friends. Of all the ideas that sounded the most pleasant to you today, those weren’t it. You slowly peeled yourself out of the bed sheets and draped a bathrobe over your pajamas to ease the chill. You padded your way to the kitchen where soft classical music filled the air and Nanami was simultaneously brewing tea and cooking eggs.

“Good morning, darling,” he called out, giving you another peck, this time on the cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“With you next to me, my love? Always,” came your reply, earning you the chance to see a small blush on your boyfriend’s face before he turned back to the task at hand. You hummed along quietly to the song that was playing and appreciated the view you had of your domesticated partner. As he finally set a mug and plate down in front of you, everything piping hot, you smiled appreciatively and waited for him to seat himself before savoring the delicious breakfast. These types of quiet mornings were your absolute favorite. There was no need to fill the air with mindless chatter or anxious laughter. The company of each other was more than enough for both of you. The shy stolen glances between you at the dining table were routine in your relationship as you both found yourselves enamored with each other but still lost in the throes of young love. Your first meal eventually came to a close and as you stood to do the dishes, Nanami was quick to intervene.

“Don’t worry about those, y/n, I’ll do them. Please, sit down and enjoy your rest.”

You rose anyway. “No way! You cooked us a delicious meal, it’s only fair I clean it up.”

Nanami looked like he wanted to protest but gave up when he saw the determination on your face. “Fine. You wash, I’ll dry.”

As the last dish was put away and the sink rinsed clean, Nanami strolled over to you, grabbing you by the hips and staring deep into your eyes. “You know, I have a big day planned for us.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show. You had hope for a day filled with recharge and rejuvenation but you didn’t want to let your lover down. “Oh? And what’s included in that?”

He cocked his head, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well, first off we could…” He trailed off, distracted by your extremely kissable lips that were extremely close to his own. As he leaned in, painfully taking his time, his phone began to ring loudly.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, but you weren’t deterred. You ran your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, goosebumps immediately popping up on his skin, and closed the distance, slotting your lips against his. You both made a contented noise at the contact. The kiss was gentle but needy, passionate but tender. Nanami’s phone had stopped ringing for but just a moment before the tone began again. He groaned into the kiss but still didn’t stop, his hands now roaming freely over your body and now it was your turn to groan, albeit for a different reason. His phone stopped ringing and started again once more.

“Whoever it is better have a good reason for interrupting us,” grumbled Nanami, breaking from your touch to answer his cellphone. “Nanami Kento. Oh, it’s you. No, thank you. I have plans. Yes, plans. No, not with you. No. No. I’ll see you on Monday.” He hung up.

“Let me guess, that was Gojo?” you mused, a grin erupting on your face. You could tell it was the white haired man on the phone with your beloved because he was immediately annoyed. Nanami nodded his head, his arms enveloping you in a hug as he rested his chin on your head.

“He wanted to know if we wanted to go out with him tonight for dinner and then clubbing. I hope you don’t mind I turned him down.” The blonde was taken aback by your giggling. “What’s so funny?” he asked you, letting go of the hug but holding you by the shoulders.

“I turned down my cousin and friends for lunch and the club today as well.” Nanami breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. I have no plans today, I want no plans today. This day is ours and we will do as we please.” You nodded in agreement and sealed that with another long winded kiss before you went to your bathroom to get ready.

Thankfully the day had gone by pretty slow. It was a beautiful spring day so you and Nanami enjoyed a nice stroll around your neighborhood, listening to the chirps of the birds and rustling of the squirrels. You pointed things out to each other like a gorgeous flower (that Nanami of course compared you to) and a garden gnome (you couldn’t help that it looked just like Nanami!). You even cloud gazed for a while, enjoying the smells of the freshly mowed grass you found yourself laying on. When it came time for lunch, you made sandwiches for the both of you and munched on them while you did word search puzzles and Nanami did Sudoku puzzles. Like before, not many words were shared during this time but the comfortable silence was everything you could wish for. The plates were cleared, the sponge rinsed out. Another meaningful kiss was shared. Now it was time for household chores. You dusted while Nanami vacuumed. Nanami put the clothes in the washer, you put them in the dryer, you both folded them when they were done. You cleaned the sink in the bathroom while Nanami cleaned the toilet and shower. When that was done, it was time for another break. You picked up the cross stitch project you had been working on while Nanami settled for reading his newspaper. You sat in the family room on the couch while he opted for the chair. The window was opened slightly which allowed for the faintest touch of fresh air to be brought in by the light breeze. It was getting late into the afternoon and the birds, though still singing their songs, were beginning to head into their nests for the night. As you got lost into your project, the rustling of the newspaper brought you back to earth and into a new thought.

“Kento.”

“Hm?”

“Are we boring?”

Nanami lowered his paper and raised his eyebrows. “I don’t usually answer a question with a question, so forgive me y/n, but what brought on that thought?”

You went back to your cross stitching, nervously weaving the needle back and forth. “Well, it’s Saturday. We were asked to go out and join our friends in doing crazy things and instead we acted like an old married couple.”

“Would you have liked to gone out?”

“No. Would you?”

“Absolutely not.” His response was lightning fast.

“And so,” you laughed, “that raises the question. Are we boring?”

Nanami neatly folded his newspaper and sat next to you, taking your project out of your fidgeting grasp and replaced it with his hands. “I would spend the rest of my days watching paint dry if I had the pleasure of you sitting next to me as I did it. If the only views I ever saw were of neighborhood animals and our kitchen stove, as long as you were by my side, I’d be the happiest man on the planet. If that makes me boring, so be it.” You could tell he meant every word of what he said. Maybe you were being too hard on yourself—being able to build a life with someone as loving and kind as Nanami isn’t a privilege everybody is able to have and so what if people don’t understand you like to live a slow life? The only thing that matters at the end of the day is that Kento Nanami is yours, and you, his. You lifted your entwined hands up to your lips and gave his knuckles little kisses to show your appreciation for his answer. Unfortunately for you, you would never know just how wildly fast Nanami’s heart beat in his chest at the action, but you could get a feeling for what was going on by the deep blush spreading on his cheeks and his slightly flustered body language. You were definitely going to cancel plans to stay in more often.

[number1jeonginstan]

Hiyaaa! Hope you’re doing well:) i was wondering if you could be open to writing a virgin!chan oneshot where youre his best friend who he’s crushing on and he wants to lose his virginity to you? Reader could be a dom so he’s turned on by that lol but he’s also a sensitive subby boy. - anon 🦋

A/N: This is actually the first time I’ve written a sub!reader, so I hope it’s good. Thank you so much for sending in a request and I really hope you liked it, I really enjoyed writing it because it was kinda cute in the beginning, also something about the game night Chan agenda is really my favorite for some reason! Also, welcome to the anon list 🦋

WC: 2.1k (oops!)

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: idol!Chan x idol!(afab)Reader

Warnings: loss of virginity (chan), but not, protected sex (for the first time ever!?!?), blow jobs, aftercare is a must!, subby!Chan

You walked into the dorms for your and Chan’s weekly game night. It was a tradition the two of you made when you two became friends after you first debuted. Your friendship was quite spontaneous, you were walking around the music core backrooms, trying to find your manager and you ran into Chan. You both bonded over your love for anime since he saw that you had a Rukia phone case at the time. 

He eventually helped you find your manager, offered you his phone number, and told you to text him if you ever had any questions. You happily took it, not thinking much of it. The first time you texted him was three days after they won an award for their new song.

Chan was taken aback when he first got your text. He thought you were so sweet, offering to take you out to get ice cream to celebrate their win, and you happily obliged. From then on, the two of you have been stuck together like glue, or as much as you can be with your jobs. 

One thing you guys made a tradition of was doing a game night. Sometimes it would be with the other members, sometimes it would be just the two of you, it all depended. “Hey, you are finally here!” he beamed, running over and giving you a tight hug. 

“I’m only a minute late, you miss me that much?” you giggled. You both went to his room, the other members were back home for vacation, and since Chan’s family was back in Australia, and yours was back in America, you guys couldn’t visit them.

“So, what are we playing tonight?” you asked, sitting on the floor of his room. You always loved Chan’s room, the aesthetics were so nice, not to mention his bed was comfortable. Sometimes you would sleep over, or just take a nap while he worked. You never understood why he worked himself to the bone, but you knew he wanted to express his emotions through his music, and you were never one to stop him.

“I was thinking, Felix got me this game thinking it would be fun,” he said, pulling out a box of Jenga from his stack of board games. 

“Wow, Jenga, so original” you rolled your eyes. “It’s not your typical Jenga, it has truth or dare questions”

“Wait, that will be fun, I wanna know all of your secrets Channie,” you said pinching his cheeks. Sure he was older than you, but you loved treating him like he was a baby, it was fun seeing him all flustered.

“Do you want to set it up while I bring us some snacks?” He asked, putting the box on the floor and standing up. “Yeah sure, do you guys still have my favorite chips?” you asked, he simply nodded, heading out of the room as you took the pieces out of the box, stacking them up.

He came back in, holding two bottles of water as well as a bowl of chips. He popped one in his mouth, sitting on the floor facing you. “Okay, you start” you grinned, taking the chip that was in his mouth and eating it. 

“Yeah yeah, just don’t cry when you lose” he grinned. You just glared at him, there was no way in hell you would lose. 

“What is the most embarrassing moment you’ve had in front of others?” you read out loud, it was your turn and you had yet to lose. “Ummm, I think it’s the time I was changing into an outfit for one of our performances, we don’t know what happened, but I guess my boobs were too big or something because the shirt ripped as soon as I put it on, and it wasn’t like I gained weight or anything because it was loose at the stomach.” 

You started laughing at yourself, reminiscing the way your stylist and you were both in shock. What you didn’t see was the blush on Chan’s cheeks and how his ears got a bit red, thinking of how you looked without your shirt on. 

Before he could imagine it more, he coughed, taking out another block. “Where is the craziest place you’ve had sex?” you said, looking over the stack to read out the block. 

Chan’s voice became an octave higher “How can they ask such a question?” he asked, a bit bewildered. “Come on Channie, you have to answer it!” 

“I can’t” 

“Why not?” you whined, wanting to know

“I’ve never done it” 

“What!” you screamed out loud. Chan just covered his face embarrassed, he didn’t need you to think he was a virgin. “I mean there is nothing wrong with it, but that’s so crazy to me. Like you are obviously a really attractive dude, with a great personality, and you have a great body and smile” you kept rambling on, causing him to blush even more.

“You think I’m handsome?” he asked, a bit perplexed. “Yeah, of course, I mean have you looked at yourself in a mirror? Like you are one of the most attractive dudes I’ve ever met.”

“Can I ask why though?” 

“I just came here at a young age, as you know, and I just didn’t find anyone to have sex with” he shrugged, calming down from his previous state of embarrassment. He took a swig of his water as you asked him a question.

“Oh, do you want to have sex with me?” you asked nonchalantly. Chan choked on the water unsure of where your ask was going. “WHAT!” he shouted, not trying to hold back his surprise. “I mean, only if you feel comfortable, I just don’t think you want to die a virgin” you shrugged, taking a sip of your own water. 

“Okay, yeah” he whispered. It was at that moment, the atmosphere changed. The air around you had become more sultry as you climbed into his lap, knocking down the Jenga tower in the process. “Oops, guess you were right, I did lose” 

Before he could even reply, you captured his lips in a kiss. He groaned in your mouth as you began to slowly grind your hips into his. “Why don’t I take you to the bed?” you asked, pulling by his collar. 

He just moaned as his back hit the bed, you began to straddle him, your knees around his hips as you rubbed your clothed pussy on top of his covered cock. “Be a good boy and take off your shirt” you said, kissing his lips again. 

He groaned again as he removed his shirt showing off his abs. “Fuck” you groaned, running your finger on them. “I should have asked to do this sooner” 

He just whimpered underneath you, feeling overstimulated. It had been weeks since he touched himself. He had never felt this way, he couldn’t fathom what was happening. The feeling of your pussy rubbing on his cock was getting to be too much. “Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum in my pants” he moaned out loud. 

“Aww baby” you brought your hand to his face, “maybe I want you to.” You grinned, getting off of him and taking off your shirt and the shorts you were wearing. His cheeks blushed red as he saw you in your underwear and bra. The accentuated every single curve and mark on your body and he loved it. 

“Be a good boy and lift your hips for me” he simply nodded, allowing you to take off his shorts and boxers. His cock slapped his stomach, the red tip already covered in his pre-cum. He moaned feeling the cool air hitting it. “Wow, you are so big, can’t wait to suck on it” 

Chan’s eyes opened in suprise as you took his cock in your hands, slowly sucking at the lip, given it kitten licks “Fuck feels so good” he whined beneath you. You ignored him, going back to sucking cock. 

You needed to stimulate yourself as well, so as you kept sucking his cock, you took one of your hands, removing your underwear, and began figering yourself. You continued to suck, adding a finger in at a time, knowing you wouldn’t be able to take his thick cock without stretching yourself out. 

He looked down at you, moaning at the sight of you fingering yourself as you continued to take him down your throat. The moans eliciting from his mouth made you wetter, moaning on his cock as your fingers were thrusting faster inside of yourself. 

You began to take him deeper, your nose beginning to hit his pubic bone as you bobbed your head up and down. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, and his moans were getting louder. “Fuck feels so good, omg, I think I’m going to cum” 

Just before he was going to cum, you took your mouth off his cock with a pop. He whined at the loss of your mouth on his cock. “Please, I was going to cum, why would you do that” 

Tears began to form as he felt bottled up, barely being able to take it anymore. “Oh baby boy, don’t cry” you said, wiping the tears off his face. “Just wanna make you cum in my pussy, is that okay?” 

He nodded, feeling eager to feel your wet cunt on him. “Baby, do you have a condom” you asked, kissing his lips once again. He nodded, pointing to his dresser, “The second drawer, Han bought me a box as a joke, never thought they would come in use” 

“Well tell Han thank you, now go rest your back on the headboard, I want to ride you” He simply nodded, sitting up and pushing his back onto the board, allowing you full access to him. 

“You are so beautiful, I’m so excited to have your cock inside of me” you giggled, rolling the condom onto his dick. He moaned at the sight of your small hands wrapping around his throbbing cock. “Fuck” he groaned out loud, causing you to giggle again. 

You rested your knees on both sides of his thighs, running his cock in between your slit, allowing your wetness to cover it. Before he could even think, you slammed the entirety of his cock inside of you, moaning at how well he fills you up.

“Oh my god” you moaned out loud, his cock already hitting that one spot inside of you “it’s like your cock was made for my pussy, I don’t think I’m ever going to let you go”

You kissed his lips again, moaning as you began to move up and down on his dick. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good, it’s clenching me, I don’t think I can last long” he moaned again, feeling your walls clenching him. It was all becoming too much.

You knew he was close, but you were too, the thought of corrupting Chan was took much for you. You began to move faster on his dick. “Fuck, I’m going to cum, please let me cum” he moaned.

“Don’t you want to be a good baby and let me cum, or are you selfish?” you asked, not stopping your pace. “Rub my clit baby” you said, gliding his fingers down to it, and showing him what pace you wanted it at. You moaned feeling his thick fingers rubbing it as you continued to move on his long cock. 

“No, want to be a good boy, want to be such a good boy for you” he moaned again. That was all you needed to cum, your walls spasaming around his dick, your pace didn’t falter, wanting to ride out your high and cause him to cum too “Please let me cum, please I’ve been such a good boy” 

“You have haven’t you? Cum baby, cum in my pussy” that was all he needed, you rode out the both of your highs.

As you came down, you rested your head into his chest, feeling over-exerted. “I hope that was a good first time, sorry if I was too rough” you said, kissing his lips again. 

“If you want me to go, I totally can” before you even said anything else, he kissed you this time. 

“You aren’t going anywhere, you are mine now. We are going to go take a bath and eat whatever you want” You looked at him puzzled, "Was my crush on you not obvious???" You just giggled, "I don't think it was, maybe I need another kiss to reassure me"

He placed another kiss on your lips, this time it was soft and sensual and not lustful like before. He picked you off the bed, took you to the bathroom, and filled up the bathtub with hot water and bubbles. 

After it was filled, you both sat in, your back pressed against his chest as he massaged your shoulders. He kissed your shoulder, whispering in your ear “Thank you for the best first time ever, but for this second time, do you think you can be my good girl?”  

[lqveharrington]

Holidays | C.S.

summary: your first holiday/christmas outside of the districts

pairing: politician!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: mainly fluff, reader is from district 12 (this is very important in this one-shot), coriolanus is manipulative in this (not a lot, but still), angst if you squint.

a/n: happy holidays 🎄

Despite living in the Capitol, your spirits were up when the holidays came around. Those living at the Capitol had many decorations up and participated in festivities that would certainly get those in the districts in trouble.

As the chosen wife of — the sudden rise to power and wealth — Coriolanus Snow, you were also put into the impression that you were to make this holiday season the best for you and your husband.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Coriolanus told you that he was to work late, strategizing to help his campaign as he was running for president next year. Of course, you were used to this and gave him a kiss bye as you started your day with the festivities that you used to do back in your home.

By the time Coriolanus came home, it was late and he assumed you were sleeping already. What he did not know was that you were still in the kitchen baking cookies and decorating gingerbread house while playing music from your record collection.

“Why are you still up so late?” Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your hips, resting his head on your shoulder.

You grin at his presence, shifting to meet his eyes. “I wanted to surprise you with cookies and a pretty gingerbread house.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” He kisses your cheek.

“I would like to think so.” You pop a gum drop into your mouth, taking one of your earlier cookies you made from the counter. “Want some?”

He hummed, opening his mouth. You broke a piece off and gave it to him, waiting for a reaction of some sort.

“Well?”

“It’s delicious.” He swallowed, reaching for the rest of the cookie in your hand. “I think I should take them all.”

You let out an airy laugh, handing him the baked good. “I think you should help me decorate this house so we can go to bed. I’m sure you’re tired, Coryo.”

———

“What are you doing now?” Coriolanus asked you as he got out of the bathroom, hair still wet. He brought the a towel to his head, watching you stand outside on the balcony. “My love, you’re going to catch a cold staying out there.”

“I know…” You mess with your silk robe, rubbing the sleeve with your thumb. “Just give me a few more seconds. I want to check off the last thing I used to do back in 12 for Christmas Eve.”

He refrained from scoffing at the mention of District 12, slipping one arm around your waist. “You don’t remember how bad it was back there before I saved you? Why do things that bring back memories of those days being treated like a peasant?”

You stayed quiet, listening to his words intently.

“I believe you should be grateful you aren’t spending time in the freezing weather and instead participate in the fun activities in the Capitol. Where you belong.” He pecked your cheek. “Unless you want to go back… Then that can easily be arranged.”

“No, don’t.” You frown, looking up at the shining moon. “I love it here. A lot. And, I’m really grateful for it, really.”

“Good answer.” He runs his hand up to your chin, tilting it so you would face him. “Just this one thing and then come to bed, okay?”

You nod, pecking his lips. “Thank you… Love you.”

Coriolanus smiles at you, pressing one last tentative kiss to your lips and leaving for the bed, not bothering to take the time to understand what you were doing.

Leaning against the cement railings, your focus moves back to the bright moon, smiling sadly at it.

“I promise I’ll be back and see you again…” You whisper into the crisp, night air, the wind lightly blowing at your skin. “We’ll be okay. Just watch over mom for me. I’ll see you both again.”

You check your watch for the time, the second hand hitting the twelve. “From your somewhat cool older sister: Merry Christmas, Dante Everdeen.”

read more about coriolanus snow here !!

a/n pt2: MING BLOWING 🤯 she’s related to katniss, isn’t that silly :)

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[likeadevils]

1989 Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on 1989 in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing 1989 and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process

Of all the albums in Taylor's discography, I think this is the one that improves the most when you listen to it in order. All of those things Taylor was talking about in the promo for this album-- how this is an album of her coming into her own, figuring out her values, learning to stand on her own two feet-- it all clicks into place. Listening to it in order has made me cry on more than one occasion, and it's also the thing that made me start this whole crazy process of figuring out the dates she wrote each song.

If you don't want to read the whole post, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date: 

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based on guesswork and is highly likely to change, or, all that is known is the general season.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices)

Without further ado...

Oct 6, 2012: Taylor seems to have been in a studio in London (Note: I have no idea where this photo comes from and I can not find a place that specifies if this is a music studio or radio interview.)

This Love: Oct 17, 2012 (Confirmed)

October 19, 2012: Taylor mentions wanting to work with Imogen Heap, prompting Imogen to get in touch with Taylor

Time Interview: Who’d be your dream collaboration, especially now that you’re taking more musical risks? Let me think. Imogen Heap! She’s amazing. Taylor: Someone asked me in an interview "Who would you like to work with?" and I said Imogen Heap. I get an email to my management, sent like "Imogen just saw that Taylor just said an interview that she would like to work together" She said "Why don't you come out to my studio." Imogen: I got a phone call [in 2014] saying Taylor Swift was in London, she'd love to work with me and the only date she could do (between 4 sold out 02 arenas!) was the day after we got back, Sunday. It was both unexpected and not at the same time as I'd heard Taylor was a fan a while back via this Time magazine piece but somehow didn't think it would actually happen.

Fall 2012: Taylor possibly writes a song with Harry Styles and Jacknife Lee (her producer for The Last Time)

“It was out of my field of expertise and interest, but I was intrigued and my girls were thrilled. Taylor was nice and very professional. She knew what she wanted and there was no fucking about. She was seeing Harry Styles at the time, so he came to Topanga on her recommendation. She wrote a few songs with him, and it was the same thing – quick. But this time it was more directed by the management and label. They were after something specific. I wanted more acoustic and gentle, almost Americana, and they wanted bombast. They got what they wanted, and that was the extent of my foray into teen-pop territory. It was fun.”

All You Had to Do Was Stay: Jan 10, 2013 (Confirmed)

Taylor is photographed outside Conway, and then tweets "Back in the studio. Uh oh..." Later, Taylor confirmed that she was recording All You Had To Do Was Stay. Taylor: I had a dream that my ex showed up at my door, knocked at my door, and I opened it up, and I was about ready to launch into the perfect thing to say [...], Instead, all that would come out of my mouth was that high-pitched chorus of people singing, 'Stay!'...and then you go to say something else, and it's just like 'Stay! Stay! Stay!' And I woke up, I was like 'Oh, that was mortifying. But that's kind of a cool vocal part.'

January 11, 2013: Taylor is photographed outside Conway again

How You Get The Girl: Jan 15, 2013 (Confirmed)

Taylor posts a picture of her playing a guitar in the studio, captioned "Somewhere in LA..". Later, Taylor confirmed that she was recording How You Get The Girl. Given what was going on in her personal life, she likely wrote this sometime in the fall/winter of 2012, but all we know for sure is the date she recorded it.

February 9, 2013: Tweets "Grammy rehearsals last night, studio today, who knows what tonight holds! (I do. Laying around watching TV and eating candy.)"

March 6, 2013: Taylor is photographed outside a studio in LA

March 23, 2013: Posts a picture of her playing guitar captioned "Pre show. Columbia, South Carolina"

I Wish You Would: May 28, 2013 (Inferring)

Taylor is photographed out for lunch in Rhode Island with Lena Dunham (and likely Jack Antonoff, who was Lena's boyfriend but not as famous at the time) on May 27 before leaving for her show in Phoenix, Arizona the next day Jack:  "We were hanging out at her house in Rhode Island and we were talking about John Hughes movies, and a lot of the music that inspired [them], and just this general culture of sound in that time period that was really larger-than-life in an anthemic, positive way. These songs could be at the end of films that were really, really beautiful and said a lot. That actually ended up being a song called 'I Wish You Would' which is going to be on her album. We first worked on that song together and realised we kind of have a good thing. Taylor: “This is a song I did with Jack Antonoff, and Jack is one of my friends and so we were hanging out and he pulled out his phone and goes "I made this amazing track the other day. It's so cool, I love these guitar sounds." And he played it for me and immediately I could hear this finished song in my head, and I just said "Please, please let me have that. Let me play with it, like send it to me" And so he sent it to me and I was on tour and this was me playing the track on my laptop recording me singing the vocal into my phone and it ended up being a song called "I Wish You Would", because Jack wrote back and said "I love that".”

June 7, 2013: At the CMA fest, Taylor is asked if she's started writing for her next album yet

“It's starting, all the anxiety is starting and when the anxiety starts, then the writing happens right afterward, usually. Um, so, yeah, I basically... I like to, I like to write for about two years before I'm finished with an album because I... at this point I kind of know that whenever I write in the first year is going to get thrown away, because, I'm going to like it, but it's going to sound a little bit like the last project I had, and the second year usually ends up sounding like the next project. So I think at this point, at this point I feel like staying the same is the easy way to go but it's not the way that I want to go, creatively. I think you need to challenge yourself, I think you need to change up your influences, I think you need to be inspired by different things that you've been inspired by before, and, uh, y'know, It's harder to call people you don't know, and it's harder to think of topics you haven't covered and think of new ways to say old emotions that everyone feels, but, that's the goal at this point."

June 20-21, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez hang out, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

July 15, 2013: Taylor gives a brief interview to Rolling Stone

“The floodgates just opened the last couple weeks,” she says of the songwriting process. “I’m getting to that point where I’m irritating to be around because I’ll be with you for half the conversation and then the second half of the conversation I’m clearly editing the second verse of whatever I’m writing in my head.” “I really loved collaborating [on Red],” she says. “You work with a lot of different people and you find the people you have this dream connection with in the studio. I know those people and I know the ones I want to go back to. But I also have a really long list of the people I admire and I would really love to go and contact. So that’s kind of where that is.” “I think that the idea of having a different approach to every single one of my albums is so exciting to me. I never want to make the same record twice. Why do it? What’s the point? It’s so overwhelming that when you’re starting a project there are such endless possibilities if you’re willing to evolve and experiment. If you’re willing to become a different version of yourself, you can really go anywhere with it. And that’s kind of where I am. The kind of the laboratory experimental stage of really catching onto a new thing that I’m liking.”

July 18, 2013: Taylor unfollows the three backup dancers that left her tour for Katy's, meaning Bad Blood was likely written sometime between July and November 2013.

Sweeter Than Fiction: Summer 2013 (Speculation)

Taylor wrote this one over email, and then it was recorded in New York (partially in Jack's living room, partially in an actual studio)

August 25, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez hang out at the VMAs, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

August 25, 2013: Taylor gives a brief interview on the VMAs red carpet

"But I think [songwriting is] about to start to kick into full gear. I'm about to go into the studio. It's about to get really intense."

Out Of The Woods: September 14 2013 (Inferring)

On September 14, Fun cancelled their show. Taylor was likely either flying to or from Charlottesville, where she had a show for the Red Tour. Jack: "When I did the track for Out of the Woods, which is a Taylor song that I'm really proud of, there was some issue at a venue and our show was canceled that night and I didn't have my stuff, I had left it on the bus, so I only had these old samples on what was on my laptop, and caught up that 'oh oh'' thing, and I only had one drum kit on there, and these dumb little things [sometimes turn into a great song]" Jack: "So 'Out Of The Woods' was the third thing we worked on together, and probably the easiest. I sent her the track for it, and she sent back a voice note with the verse and chorus in what felt like five seconds. And it was just perfect. It's eerie how similar it is to what the final product is." Taylor: "This is a track that Jack Antonoff sent me, and I was actually on a plane, I got it and I got on a plane and I'm listening to it, and I'm just like listening to it and mumbling melodies cause the song came to me immediately like, in full [...] I think what I should start by playing you, is when I got the track, what I sent him like an hour later, and it is, me.. um, me singing what came to me, which ended up being the finished version of the song, or at least really close to it."

September 20, 2013: In a brief interview with USA Today, Taylor says she plans to work on her next album between the next few legs of the Red Tour

"I’ll be in the studio, figuring out what comes next. I really like to take two years to make a record, and I’ve been writing and doing stuff for the last year. This is kind of the year that it goes into overdrive, and it’s all I think about and I become obsessive over it and I’m hard to talk to"

September 22, 2013: Taylor gives an interview to New York Magazine where she talks about her plans for TS5

These days, Swift is thinking a lot about her next record. While on the Red tour, she’d been writing songs and stockpiling ideas: reams of lyrics, thousands of voice memos in her iPhone [...] she plans to spend much of 2014 writing and recording the new album, a prospect she finds exhilarating and terrifying. “I worry about everything. Some days I wake up in a mind-set of, like, ‘Okay, it’s been a good run.’ By afternoon, I could have a change of mood and feel like anything is possible and I can’t wait to make this kind of music I’ve never made before. And then by evening, I could be terrified of the whole thing again. And then at night, I’ll write a song before bed.” Swift hopes to collaborate with new songwriters and producers. But she planned to begin, she said, by heading back into the studio with Max Martin and Shellback. “I want to go in with Max and Johan first, just to figure out what the bone structure of this record is going to be. “I have a lot of things to draw from emotionally at the moment. But I have to draw from them with a different perspective than on Red. I can’t say the same things over and over, you know? I mean, I think it’s just all the more important that I don’t ever allow myself to coast. At the same time, there’s a mistake that I see artists make when they’re on their fourth or fifth record, and they think innovation is more important than solid songwriting. The most terrible letdown as a listener for me is when I’m listening to a song and I see what they were trying to do. Like, where there’s a dance break that doesn’t make any sense, there’s a rap that shouldn’t be there, there’s like a beat change that’s, like, the coolest, hippest thing this six months—but it has nothing to do with the feeling, it has nothing to do with the emotion, it has nothing to do with the lyric. I never want to put things in songs just because that might make them popular, like, on the more rhythmic stations or in dance clubs. I really don’t want a compilation of sounds. I just need them to be songs.”

September 28-October 5, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez are in the same city, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

October 12, 2013: Taylor gives an interview to the Associated Press

Swift: I think the goal for the next album is to continue to change, and never change in the same way twice [...] How do I write these figurative diary entries in ways that I’ve never written them before and to a sonic backdrop that I’ve never explored before? It’s my fifth album, which is crazy to think about, but I think what I’m noticing about it so far is it’s definitely taking a different turn than anything I’ve done before. AP: You said recently you’ve been working on songs for the new album for about six months. What can you tell us about what you have planned? Swift: It’s too early to tell who are going to be my predominant collaborators, but I do know that my absolute dream collaborators were Shellback and Max Martin on the last project. I’ve never been so challenged as a songwriter. I’ve never learned so much. I’ve never just been so excited to show up to the studio every day, just because you never know what we’re going to put together. I’ll bring in ideas and they’ll take such a different turn than where I thought they were going to go, and that level of unexpected spontaneity is something that really thrills me in the process of making music. ... What if we did this? What if we made it weirder? What if we took it darker? I love people who have endless strange and exciting ideas about where music can go."

October 14, 2013: At the NSAI, Taylor talks about reinventing herself for different albums

"I’m making my 5th record now, so I think you have to change things up, you have to explore different corners of music as much as you can. Cause I really, it’s been a big goal of mine to never make two albums that sounded the same. I really want my fans to be able to be like "Oh that song? Clearly that's from the Fearless album", "No that one, that one was from Red" and so I’m in the process of doing that thing all over again for my 5th album and it’s amazing to be in the studio and to be songwriting again, and be honored for songwriting tonight"

Blank Space: October 26, 2013 (Inferring)

It looks like she’s wearing the same outfit in this behind the scenes footage and these candids Taylor: "I was going into write with Max Martin and Shellback, who are two of the primary collaborators on 1989, and I... was preparing all these things, and I, I think Blank Space was like the third thing I played them, and they just stopped and they were like "NO, this is the first thing we're working on today." [...] I had the idea for the chorus and I had the hook, but a lot of the verse was gibberish." Taylor (On what song took her the least amount of time to write): "Blank space, cause I'd written a lot of the lines down already in the year preceding the session"

October 29, 2013: Tweets "Sitting in the studio writing the next album (!!!!) and wanted to thank you for the American Music Award nominations!"

November 1 : While promoting Keds, Taylor is asked about her next album

"What I go through is going to be the story that I tell. I think lyrically, I always try to tell my fans exactly what’s happened to me in the last two years, and that’s the thing they can expect. Everything else, they won’t be able to expect. Having been in the studio with this one, I’m just like… oh, this is going to be fun"

Bad Blood: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

The backup dancer drama seems to have kicked off in mid-July. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

New Romantics: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Unfortunately, Taylor doesn't really talk about this song. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

Wildest Dreams: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Selena reportedly told a fan she was there when Taylor wrote this, and I've noted above all the times Selena could have been with Taylor in 2013 (Here's my personal ranking of how likely each date is). Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013.

Wonderland: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Another one Taylor just doesn't talk about all that often. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

Nov 20, 2013: Taylor posted "While in the studio, I came to the realization that my bangs are long enough to use as a sleep mask on long flights. Then I remembered I don't ever use sleep masks on flights. So really, I just need a haircut"

November 25, 2013: Taylor and Scott Borchetta have a meeting to talk about her plans for TS5 and are both asked about the next album at the AMAs

Taylor: “We got a lot already. There are probably seven or eight [songs] that I know I want on the record. It’s really ahead of schedule for me. I’m just stoked because it’s already evolved into a new sound, and that’s all I wanted. And I would have taken two years to make that happen, but it just kind of happened naturally, so that’s all I could really ask for.” Scott Borchetta: "Well earlier today we got together and she played me seven new songs, and she’s just on fire. The level of desire and passion that she has just to keep getting better, she’s an artist that just really never wants to just say ‘Well okay this is good enough’. It’s always gotta be better. She’s in amazing creative place right now." By the end of November, Taylor had likely recorded This Love, All You Had To Do Was Stay, How You Get The Girl, I Wish You Would, Out Of The Woods, Blank Space, Bad Blood, New Romantics, Wildest Dreams, and Wonderland. That’s 10 songs total, 5 of which were likely recorded in the past two months, and 7 that had been made since Taylor and Jack had their conversation about 80s music in May.

Dec 21, 2013: Taylor briefly talks to Billboard about TS5

"I’m really loving collaboration right now [...] I see it as a bit of an apprenticeship. I want to be around people who love writing songs and have done it for years. Every time I’m in a studio I’m learning, like how to build a drum track, and getting a new perspective on things. It’s so thrilling to keep learning on your fifth album. As soon as [an album] comes out I’m figuring out what the next one will be. It’s gotten to the point where each one is a reinvention, which is what I like best. I like it when it sounds new and people don’t know where you’re going to go next."

Say Don't Go: Jan 1, 2014 (Confirmed)

Diane Warren: Warren, who typically writes on her own, says the two of them “sat down and wrote the song […] from scratch” during the last few days of 2013. She remembers being impressed with how specific Swift was with her lyricism and how considerate she was about how her fans might receive it. “She was very particular about how she said certain things. It was a really interesting experience. She gets her audience [...] She’s deeply aware of how her fans want to hear something. I can’t explain it, but that’s probably why she’s the biggest fucking star in the world.” Several days after writing the song together, they got into Warren’s office to record a demo, where Swift played it on her acoustic guitar. “We demoed it on New Year’s Day. And I’m a workaholic, and that’s fine for me,” she says. “But I remember being impressed that she did, too. Everybody’s on vacation, but she showed up.”

You Are In Love: Jan 2014 (Inferring)

This song is copyrighted for 2014. Taylor has said a few times that Clean, Shake It Off, and Style were the last songs written for the album, meaning You Are In Love was likely completed in January or early February. Given Taylor's busy schedule in late January and early February, I'd guess this was written at some point in early January. Furthermore, I'd guess it was sometime after the 9th, when she returned from looking at house in New York.

I Know Places: Jan 22, 2014 (Confirmed)

Taylor: "I sent this voice memo to Ryan Tedder because I'd always wanted to work with him, and finally we scheduled some studio time. So I always wanna be prepared, I wanted to send him the idea that I was working on before we went into the studio just in case he wrote back and said "I can't stand that, I wanna work on something else, think of something else" So I just sat down with the piano, put my phone on top of the piano and just kind of explained to him where I wanted to go with the song, how I saw the melody sitting in and we ended up recording the song the next day and it ended up being on the record called "I Know Places" So this was the voice memo that I sent to him the night before we ended up finishing the song"

Welcome To New York: Jan 23, 2014 (Confirmed)

Ryan Tedder: "I thought we were going to walk in and start something from scratch because that's what I was used to. Then she calls me and says, 'Is it cool if I already have an idea?' I said, 'Sure.' She said, 'I have this song, I'm obsessed with New York and I just moved there, I want to write an ode to New York because no one's done it in a long time.' And then she sent me a voice memo. She's like, 'I want it to sound like 1980s.' So the next day I brought in a Juno-106, which is a very 1980s keyboard and I literally programmed that entire song right in front of her. It was very much on the fly, and that song was done in about three hours. And I did the rest of the production I think later that week. I was in Switzerland on a tour bus, and I did four versions of 'Welcome to New York,' one of which I liked personally more, but the thing about artists is they become very obsessed with the demo. She was in love with the demo so no matter how hard I fought, she brought it back to the demo, so really what you hear is what I did on the first day."

January 26 2014: Dianne Warren says that she recently wrote a song with Taylor

"I worked with Taylor Swift on a great song [...] I'm excited about the [song] that we did, it's pretty cool Dianne in 2016: “I know [Swift] likes it, so hopefully it will see the light of day. I know she really likes the song. She didn’t want me to give it away, so hopefully that means she wants it.”

January 26 2014: Taylor loses Album of the Year at the Grammy's to Daft Punk. She tells a few different stories about what the rest of the night looked like for her-- in some she goes home alone, in some she has some friends over-- but in all of them, this is the night where she decides that she's gonna name the album 1989, and she's not going to let her label tell her to put any country songs on it.

Clean: Feb 9, 2014 (Confirmed)

According to Imogen Heap's blog post, Taylor had the first verse and chorus by the time they got into the studio, and then wrote the second verse and bridge during the session. Taylor's part was wrapped up in 9 hours, ending at 8pm, while Imogen stayed up until 4am because she didn't want to stop working on it. Taylor: ""Shake It Off" and "Clean" were the last two things we wrote for the record, so it shows you where I ended up mentally. “Clean” I wrote as I was walking out of Liberty in London. Someone I used to date— it hit me that I’d been in the same city as him for two weeks and I hadn’t thought about it. When it did hit me, it was like, ‘Oh, I hope he’s doing well’. And nothing else. [...] The first thought that came to my mind was – I’m finally clean." Imogen Heap: I was really writing the tiniest amount just to help her do what she does. I put some noises to [“Clean”], played various instruments on it, including drums, and anytime she expressed she liked something I was doing, I did it more. It was a really fun day. She recorded all her vocals [for “Clean”] during that one session. She did two takes, and the second take was it. We always thought she would probably re-record it, because we thought it can’t possibly be that easy. But after we lived with it for a few months, we felt it was great.

February 15, 2014: Taylor posts "It was a studio Valentines Day with Max and Johan!"

Shake It Off: Feb 15, 2014 (Confirmed)

Lover Diaries (From Feb 22): "This week I’ve been in the studio with Max and Johan every day and it has been the most creatively successful and fulfilling time. The first day, Johan just made a really up tempo drum beat because we decided we needed something UP and light. We worked at it for a few hours before I just started singing “shake it off, shake it off.” And then the best way I know how to describe it is that the chorus just fell out of the sky. It ended up being this song about doing your own thing even though haters are gonna hate, and you just have to dance to your own beat. We all went home and I wrote the first and second verses and brought them in the next day. We wrote this chanty cheer leader bridge that I absolutely LOVE. We spent all day doing vocals and the next day recording background vocals. I think it’ll end up being the first single and Max said it’s his favorite song he’s ever been a part of." Taylor: "The problem was, I had all these lyrics, and I didnt have, like... writing session was coming up and I'm just like "I'm not getting a melody, I'm dead, I don't know what I'm gonna do." The thought terrified me, so I just sorta sulked into the studio and I was like "Guys, I have like an idea but its like, lyric, but I... and I know the vibe I want-- I want it to start off and the second the song starts, I want it to be the song where like, if it's played at a wedding, and there's this one girl who hasn't danced all night at the reception, all her friends come over to her and there like "You have to dance, come on, you have to dance on this one!". That's what I wanted. So I was like "Shellback, can you just go to the drum kit and try to play that?" Taylor: "There's one thing that I've always said to Max, is like "I don't like horns" I just always had a thing about it, I was always like weirdly scared of it, or intimidated by horns, I don't know what it was? It's a weird, like, nerdy studio fear of mine. I was like "No, no horns!" and I don't.. I don't even know, I don't have a reason for it, I love songs that have horns on them, I was just like "I don't think I can pull off horns." Strange. But, he goes over to the mellotron and he starts playing this horn sound. I'm like "What are you doing. Don't do that." and he's like, "No, I think this is cool" and I'm like "No it's not cool, and where are your chorus chords, because, that, you're just playing three chords over and over again and I can't make a chorus out of them, why don't you go to like a chorus chord that starts off the chorus, where is the one, like why don't you go--" and then there was this moment, where I thought of the whole chorus, and it's over the chords that I had just told him are not "chorus chords", which is a ridiculous thing to say."

February 18, 2014: Taylor is photographed entering Conway Studios

Style: Feb 19, 2014 (Confirmed)

Niklas Ljungfelt (guitarist): I played on “Style,” a song I started with Ali Payami for ourselves. He was playing it for Max Martin at his studio; Taylor overheard it and loved it. She and Max wrote new lyrics. But I recorded the guitar on it before it was a Taylor song. It was an instrumental. I didn’t have a clue that Taylor would sing on it. The inspiration came from Daft Punk and funky electronic music. Taylor: I'm pretty sure after we finished this one I knew the record was done. Shake It Off and Style were the last two songs to be written for 1989.

March 2014: Taylor's interview with Glamour is published (likely conducted two months beforehand)

TS: Working on this album has been unbelievable [...] I'm already in love with it. It's so different. CL: What's the new sound? TS: On Red I did three songs with Max Martin Shellback [...] I think we'll be doing a lot more than three songs together on the next album [Laughs].

March 26, 2014: Taylor is photographed entering a music studio in New York

May 30, 2014: Taylor writes in her diary:

So a crazy story unfolded in the last 24 hours. Last night, I had this vivid dream where the photo I’d chosen for the album cover wasn’t good enough, intriguing enough, artful enough. It woke me up. I couldn’t shake it and it stayed with me all day. Because that nagging feeling I’d been pushing back for weeks was now confirmed in my gut … It wasn’t good enough. I went to the venue, mind racing, wondering if I’d have to do an entirely new photo shoot … I got to my dressing room with newer versions of the “cover.” I looked at it and felt nothing. The team pulled up this new scanned file of the Polaroids we had taken during the shoot. I saw within 10 seconds. The shot. The cover. It’s a Polaroid of me sitting against a beige wall with a blue seagull swear shirt on. You can see my red lips, but the photo cuts off my eyes. From some reason unknown to me, it’s the most intriguing photo I’ve seen. I think it’s the mystery of not seeing my eyes. Maybe it just looks effortlessly cool. The craziest moment came when something caught my eye. The cover photo is photo 13. I kid you not.

August 23, 2014: Taylor is photographed walking out of a studio in LA (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio.)

Now That We Don't Talk: Summer 2014 (Speculation)

Seeing as Taylor said she didn't have time to figure out the production, I imagine this came fairly late in the process. Taylor has a habit of adding songs right up to the deadline-- with Folklore and Evermore, she added multiple songs a week before the album came out. The latest she added songs to albums while signed to Big Machine was September, though (both Forever & Always and So It Goes...), so I assume that's the absolute latest she could've added a song. Taylor: "Now That We Don’t Talk” is one of my favorite songs that was left behind, it was so hard to leave it behind, but I think we wrote it a little bit towards the end of the process and we couldn’t get the production right at the time. But we had tons of time to perfect the production this time and figure out what we wanted this song to sound like. I think it’s the shortest song I’ve ever had, but I think it packs a punch, I think it really goes in. For the short amount of time we have, I think it makes its point.

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

[starryriize]

snap shoot | anton

— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event

೫ pairing: bf!anton and gf!reader

೫ summary: anton takes you to the mall and you both take cute pictures in the photo booth

೫ genre/word count: fluff and just anton being in love! 1k words

೫ author's notes: for my love @chiiyuuvv !! this was genuinely so fun to write tbh semi-proofread!

Exam season has just begun for you. For the past two weeks, you’ve been stressing about your upcoming tests. First, it was two theology exams. Then, your marketing professor announced there would be an exam as well. And to top it all, your accounting and management professors decided they’d put in quizzes right before the exam day. You’d given up on sleep, rationalizing that studying is more important than sleep, and your boyfriend wished to take all your stress away. He'd been cheering you on, Now that it was Saturday though, he had the opportunity to pull you away from your books and notes, to simply relax for a few hours.

“Honey! Are you ready?” Anton’s voice called through the house, as you touched up your hair. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been on a date in forever, but you still get flustered around your boyfriend. After a year of dating, he still makes you blush and have butterflies. That adrenaline rush of being blissfully in love that leaves you stuttering over your words. Fluffing your outfit, you walk down the hallway, making sure to grab your camera.

“I’m coming! Where are we headed anyway? You didn’t tell me.” Smiling, he laces his fingers in yours. It wasn’t like him to not tell you, but you didn’t mind surprises either. The walk from your shared apartment to the mall wasn’t long, the sun shining down on the two of you as Anton laced his fingers between yours.

The mall was filled with chatter, the low sound of pop music could be heard through the many ceiling speakers. You squeeze your boyfriend's hand, happily smiling up at him. He looks down, swearing that you are an angel on earth. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a photo booth. However, to your surprise, there isn't a long line, or anyone wanting to go to the booth itself. Tugging at Anton's jacket, you excitedly point towards the booth.

"Let's go get some photos! Y'know, immortalize the moment." You giggle between your words, already thinking about all the cute poses you guys will do with each other. Pulling back the curtain of the booth, you step in squealing excitedly when you see that there are props for the pictures. "Ahhh this will be so cute!!" You pick up a giraffe headband and glasses far too whimsically big for either of you. He takes the headband from your hands, gently placing it on your head. Noticing heart glasses on the prop table, he picks it up, putting it on before flashing his iconic smile at you. The kind of smile that made you melt inside and fall for him even more.

Anton chuckles lightly, eyes flicking down at your soft, glossy lips. He sighs contentedly, pulling you in by the waist for an almost kiss. His breath fanned over your mouth before he pulled away to look at you fully, " Aren't you just the cutest giraffe?"

You giggle, smacking him lightly, turning towards the screen. "You love this giraffe!" He rolls his eyes, forcing himself to not focus on how plump your lips looked as you spoke, and instead on the flashing start button in front of the two of you. "Perhaps it'd be helpful if we clicked start, love." Pouting slightly, you laugh, leaning forward to click the button. The screen changes, giving you the countdown for pictures. He knew that you were right, he did love you, and even more, as you practiced making silly faces at the camera.

3...2...1. The camera flashed as you squished your cheeks against Anton's, his heart glasses nearly falling off his nose as he smiled ear to ear. You were grateful for the short pause between the takes, as you admired your boyfriend adjusting his glasses. Hurriedly reaching for the prop table, he takes the glasses off, grabbing a pink cowboy hat before placing it on his head. He knew he looked good in the hat, judging from how you were now avoiding any type of eye contact with him.

The screen again displayed the numbers, signaling to you that the picture would be taken soon. You bring your arms above your head to make a heart pose and your boyfriend, getting the hint, puts his arms up in a half-heart to complete the shape. The camera once again flashes, but your boyfriend wasn’t looking at the camera, rather he was looking at you. Something about the way your eyes sparkled every time you were with him, how your smile seemed to light up his entire world, it made his heart burst in his chest.

"Should we kiss for our next photo?" You quickly turn your head, eyes widening at your boyfriend's suggestion. It wasn't that you were embarrassed but you didn't expect him to suggest it to you. His deep brown eyes were fixated on your lips, and you knew that you only had a few seconds before the camera would flash again.

“Why not?” You say it so quickly, noticing how he poked his tongue out to lightly lick his lips in anticipation. Deciding it was now or never, you place your hands on his shirt, pulling him closer to you. The distance between the two of you closes as he darts his eyes from your lips to your eyes, the world around you starting to slow down as your lips connect. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the flash of the camera, but the feeling of your boyfriend’s hand on your cheek forced your attention back on him. He kissed you gently, yet fervently as though you were the only meal he’d had in his entire life. You pull away, panting softly as you catch your breath, heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of the pop music through the speakers was faint, but it reminded you that you were in the mall. The camera screen changes, a notification telling you that your photos were finished. A slot opens, your photos falling out as Anton quickly grabs them. There were two of each, and a small smile grew on his face as he noticed the last photo.

“It came out so cute!” You giggle with happiness at how well each photo turned out, as you took off the headband, placing it back on the prop table. He grabs the hat, taking it off as well, a large smile on his face.

You grab your purse and your boyfriend’s hand to leave the booth. He laughs with you, eyes crinkling as he teases, “Don’t worry, you’ll get more kisses later, love.”

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: Being nine months pregnant is not fun nor is it easy. What makes it harder is that you're married to a K-pop idol, Kim Namjoon. What happens if you go into labor and he's on a schedule? Chaos. 

♡ Rating: Pg - 14

♡ Genre: Established relationship; Namjoon x Wife! Reader, pregnancy, romance, fluff, and angst 

♡ Warnings: Giving birth (kind of) and difficulties of getting pregnant

Y/N pushed the covers off her bed and laid next to her husband, who was reading away his new book. She let out a small laugh as she pulled the covers over her big belly. The sudden noise made Namjoon look up and gave her a small smile, “Do you need help?” 

“No, I’m an independent woman.” 

“So, you don’t want me to rub your feet?

She pouted at this as Namjoon smirked at her, “No...I want that still.” 

“Just as I thought. How’s the baby?” 

“He’s doing great. Kicking me with all his might.” 

Namjoon frowned at this and pulled the covers off of her. He moved up her shirt to show off her roundness. He placed a gentle kiss and she watched with soft eyes, “Stop giving your mom a hard time. We want to meet you just as much as you want to meet us. Please be patient, baby.”

She ran her fingers through his hair as she tilted her head at the scene, “You know…we haven’t given him a name yet.”

“I thought we liked Dae-Hyun?”

“It’s good but I haven’t settled on it...I want a unique name or something that matches us.”

Namjoon placed another kiss on her stomach and pulled her shirt down. He leaned back into his pillows, “We’ll figure it out.” 

“Joon, I’m literally nine months pregnant. Time is ticking.” 

“For now, let’s go to bed. Stressing about it won’t do you good, if anything it will make you sick.”

She sighed, hating how he was always right, “Fine. Goodnight love.”

He smiled at this and leaned forward placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, “Goodnight love.” 

Y/N and Namjoon Kim have been together for nine years and married for two of those years. Y/N and Namjoon met by accident. Y/N was working at the cafe by the old Bighit building when they first met. He just turned nineteen and she was eighteen, the two had no idea that they would get married when he walked in that day. Namjoon and Yoongi came in looking for caffeine after a long night of practice. It was a long night for Namjoon because at the time he wasn’t that confident in his dancing and felt like he was holding the group back. Y/N noticed that he looked stressed and asked if he was alright, the rest was history. 

Y/N was there since the beginning of Bts and would play their music in the cafe whenever she had the chance. Namjoon would go into the small cafe every day to see her and the rest of the members picked up that he had a crush. Jimin and Hoseok were the ones that helped him to ask her out. She always knew they would get big because she believed in their talents and with her support, they did just that. 

In their sixth year of being together, Y/N and Namjoon were trying for a baby. They were newly engaged and thought it was time to have a baby. They were both healthy and financially stable, the only thing that was missing was a baby. After a year of trying, Y/N went to see a fertility specialist to see if there were any problems. Even though she was healthy, it was just taking a long time for the couple to conceive. She was upset about this but told Namjoon, whatever happens, happens. With help planning and scheduling thanks to the fertility specialist the two conceived. Now two years later, she is finally pregnant and married. 

Even though Namjoon was a husband and father, the world didn’t know that. He didn’t want the world to know about his life at home, he wanted privacy at the time. Y/N was sensitive and had health scares because of her pregnancy, he didn’t want to stress her out even more. It wasn’t until he was live on Weverse one day that he accidentally left the crib in his studio. It didn’t take long for Army to take notice and ask questions. He released a statement that he was married and having a child with his partner, saying sorry that he kept this hidden. It was a good reaction, something that shocked him. He wouldn’t show Y/N or his son’s face but he felt better that he could share this part of his life. 

“Noona are you okay?” 

Y/N smiled at Jungkook and nodded her head, “I’m okay, just fat.” 

Namjoon shook his head and walked up to her with a water bottle in his hand, “Baby, not fat. You have a human being in your stomach.”

She sighed and rubbed her stomach gently, “I know, I know.” 

Today she was watching the guys practice their dance for a video. The song was Run and it was fun to watch all of them dance together. The song was a high-energy song, something she wished she had. Namjoon wanted her to be with him at all times in case she gave birth, so she agreed to this. Her doctor told her walking is good for her and can even induce labor. 

She took the water bottle and took a sip. She was feeling nauseous all morning and Jin was the one that helped her to the chair. Namjoon was busy making a makeshift footstool for her. Yoongi handed her a piece of bread and frowned, “Are you sure you're okay?” 

“I’m okay, just pregnant.” 

Jimin smiled at this and looked at Jungkook with excitement, “Are you excited for the FIFA World Cup Kook?” 

Jungkook nodded but looked at Y/N with a frown, “Do you want me to go? I can change my mind on it.”

Y/N shook her head and gave him a small smile, “No, kook. You should go, you’ve taken care of me more than I can ask. I’ll be okay.”

Taehyung looked at Namjoon and frowned, “Don’t you have the trip to New York?”

Namjoon nodded and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “I didn’t want to go but Y/N told me I should go.”

“Of course I did. It’s for your album, babe. You need to go. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Yoongi will be there for me.” 

“Yah, what about me!?” 

She let out a small laugh and looked at Jimin, “I don’t think you can handle it.”

Namjoon sighed and shook his head, “I hate being away from you. I want to see everything and be involved.” 

“You can’t help it, that’s life babe. It will be okay no matter what. Just think that way, please.” 

“I guess...it’s not easy.”

“But it's necessary.” 

Hoseok kissed the top of her head and handed her another piece of bread, “We’ll take care of her Joon. Let’s get back to practicing.”

Namjoon stayed in his place while everyone left. He turned his head to look at her with a small smile, “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you so much, Namjoon. It will be okay, as long as we're together, it will be okay.” 

“That’s the problem, I won’t be there.”

She sighed and shook her head, “You will be there. I have a ring on my hand and a phone that can doFacetime. It will be okay.” 

He let out a small laugh and quickly pecked her lips, “Whatever you say, love.” 

“Namjoon, get into position!” 

“Okay, Hyung! I love you.” 

“I love you more.” 

She watched him leave and she bit her lip. She was super nervous because she knew this would have happened but she couldn’t show Namjoon that was feeling super nervous. She knew how important his new album was and she wanted him to finish it since he's been working so hard on it. It will be okay...

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

Namjoon was gone and Y/N was in their home not feeling the best. Every hour, Namjoon would call to check on her until Jin got annoyed and told him if he called one more time he was going to fly to New York to hit him. It’s only been three days since Namjoon left and she wasn’t feeling so good. She lied telling Namjoon that she was just super tired but Hoseok knew that was a lie. The moment Hoseok came in to check in on her, she was throwing up pure acid. She couldn’t eat anything nor could she stand up, it was really bad. Yoongi even tried getting her to eat bread but she didn’t even have the strength to eat it. 

Today it was Hoseok’s turn to watch her and she was glad that he was there. Today, she was feeling pain in her lower back and stomach. Her heating pad was doing its best to make her feel better. She was also constantly going back and forth to the bathroom but nothing was coming out. It was super frustrating. 

Hoseok handed her a banana and gave her a small smile, “Do you want some juice?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know what I want. No matter what I eat or drink, it makes me feel horrible, hobi.” 

He frowned at this and pushed some hair back from her forehead, “Remember what the doctor said, to get some walking. We can take a little walk to Namjoon's studio.” 

“It’s so hard though, hobi!”

“I know but it can help, okay.”  

She nodded her head and Hoseok gently helped her out of the bed. She felt like her stomach dropped but she couldn’t tell if her stomach didn’t agree with the bread or she had to go to the bathroom. She decided to keep walking to see if the feeling goes away. Hoseok held on to her tightly as she slowly walked into the hallway. It wasn’t until halfway she stopped and she let out a loud groan, “Y/N?” 

“Hoseok, I-I think my water just broke.” 

The silence hit him as he stood there with pure confusion, “Wh-What?” 

“We need to go now!” 

This was the fastest Hoseok has ever moved in his life. He grabbed the bag that she put together in her closet and grabbed some other things as Y/N sat in the chair breathing in and out. He grabbed his phone and dialed the dad as fast as he could, “Hoseok is-”

“Y/N’S WATER BROKE AND I’M GOING TO THE HOSPITAL!” 

“Wait...what?”

“NAMJOON, HER WATER BROKE! YOU NEED TO GET HERE AND FAST!” 

“OH SHIT! I-I’LL GET ON THE NEXT FLIGHT! CALL JIN AND YOONGI-HYUNG!”

“OKAY!” 

“HOSEOK! STOP FUCKING YELLING IN MY HOUSE AND TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL NOW!” 

Hoseok ended the call and put his phone in his pocket. He rushed towards Y/N and gently grabbed her hand, “Okay, we’ll go to the hospital. Namjoon is getting on the next plane and should be here tomorrow.” 

“That’s nice and all but I’m going to be mean, I really don’t care about that. Take this child out of me.” 

“O-Okay.” 

The trip to the hospital was hectic but Hoseok didn’t mind. His best friend is giving birth, he knew what he was getting himself into. He called everyone that was in Korea to head to the hospital, something Y/N wanted. Y/N sat in the room groaning in pain as the other members watched with hopeless looks.

Seokjin picked up a piece of ice and placed it in her mouth, “Anything from Namjoon?”

“No.” 

Y/N turned her head and stared at him with a scared look, “I’m not having this baby without him.”

“I-I know but listen Y/N-”

“No, you listen! I’m holding this baby-oh, shit.”

She gripped on the railing as tight as she could and Jin looked at Yoongi, “Go get the doctor.”

“No, I’m not-”

“Noona, if you have to give birth then you have to. It’s not healthy for you to keep him in.”

She frowned at Taehyung and looked at Yoongi. She gave him a small nod, “Go get the doctor.” 

Yoongi quickly made his way out of the room as Y/N started crying. Jimin grabbed her hand and started to rub her knuckles gently, “It’s okay. Noona, we’re here for you. We’ll call Namjoon.”

“Pro-Promise.”

“We promise noona.”

“Okay.”

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

“Namjoon, it's okay.”

“No, it’s not, I missed my son getting delivered.”

“About that-”

Before Yoongi could finish his sentence, Namjoon opened his door to see Y/N holding their son. He smiled at this and dropped his bag in the corner. He quickly made his way as Y/N looked up at him with her tired eyes, “Joonie.”

“I’m sorry baby, the plane-”

“I don’t care about that, Meet our daughter.”

“Da-Daughter?”

Y/N gently moved the blanket around her face and Namjoon felt his heart get heavy. She was so small and fragile, her little eyelashes going in different directions. Her plump lips matched his and her nose matched Y/N’s, the perfect combination of the two. He gently touched her cheek and let a tear escape, “She’s so cute. What’s her name?”

“Su-jin.”

“Perfect.”

[afro-hispwriter]

Rhaegar’s Nameday

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!reader x Aegon ii Targaryen

Summary- it's Rhaegar's name day and he's in for a few surprises 

Warnings- poly relationships, Aegon is scared of a 6-year-old, use of the word whore and bastard, brief smut, y/n being a worried mother, Aemond gets a daemon moment

Part of ‘A Good Wife’ Universe 

Wc-4.8k

-

"Cake, music, and food are finalized." You say as you cheek off the boxes. "I am never planning his birthdays again." You were stressed out for Rhaegars Nameday as well as planning your wedding. 

"You should have let us do something." Aemond kisses the top of your head. 

"He's turning six, it needs to be perfect." 

"He'll love anything, Rhaegar is not an ungrateful boy," Aegon says from behind you. Aemond then pushed some of your hair away from your neck and started kissing down your neck. You let yourself relax into the kisses even throwing your head back slightly. 

"Aegon." Kiss. "Help me take care of our princess." It wasn't long before you felt a second pair of lips on your neck. 

"Not ready." You say and reach up to grab the back of their necks. "Few more weeks." 

"We don't need to fuck you with our cocks to help you relax," Aegon says. "Stand up." You did as he instructed and they started guiding you to the bed. Aegon sat down first and pulled you on his lap, he then placed his hands on your hips and started grinding you against his leg.

"Mmm." Aemond sat down next to you and slowly started pulling down the top of your dress. When your breasts popped out Aemond immediately attached his mouth and started sucking. As you were still lactating his mouth was flooded with milk. You tugged on Aemonds scalp and he groaned. "More." Aemond pulled away then grabbed your dress and pulled it over your thighs. He dropped lowered and started kissing and sucking close to your mound.

None of you heard the door opening, it was the small gasp that made you all jump apart. 

"Rhaegar!" You exclaimed and pulled your skirt down. Aemond sat on the ground and wiped his mouth. 

"What's wrong?" Aemond says and Aegon shifts uncomfortably and moves from behind you.

"Why is uncle Aegon kissing momma like that?" He instantly frowned and you saw his eye start to gloss. "Do you not love each other anymore?" 

"Oh, baby." You frowned and stood up to go to your son. You picked him up and started walking back, Aemond sitting on the bed now. You say in between the two brothers. 

"Rhaegar, your mother and I love each other very much still." 

"But why-." He started but you cut him off.

"Shh. You know the story of our ancestor Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives?" He nodded. "Me and your father had to marry for duty but it turned into love very quickly, we were in love before the wedding." You looked at Aemond and smiled at him, he was already smiling, thinking of all the fun you had. "Now I know it's not quite the same as them but we love uncle Aegon, just like me and your father love each other." 

"So father and uncle are like Rhaenys and Visenya and you are Aegon... in a way? Do they fight over you?" You laughed.

"Not anymore and yes I guess you could say that." 

"Are you going to marry uncle?" 

"Son," Aemond says, pulling Rhaegar's attention to him. "We should also tell you that yes your mother is marrying Aegon but it's not just her marrying him, as I as well." Rhaegar took in the information, he may not understand completely, but he knew enough.

"Okay. Will uncle be my father now? Since you're marrying him?" Your breath hitched and you looked at Aegon. 

"Rhaegar." He says. "You don't have to call me father, I can always be uncle it's whatever you are comfortable with." The little boy nodded. 

"Does that mean when you have uncle's children I'll have to fight them for a place in court?" You all raised your eyebrows in confusion.

"No, no you don't have to worry about that." You knew why he asked that. "Our situation is similar to Aegon and his wives but it isn't the same as Visenya and Rhaenys fighting for their sons to have the throne." 

"Oh okay." You sighed. You had to tell him about Elyas. "Rhaegar, about Elyas." 

"Y/n." Says Aegon and he was staring at you almost pleading for you to stop. 

"He must know." Rhaegar tilted his head to the aide and waited. 

"Elyas is your half-brother... so he is Aegons, son." He didn't answer he just furrowed his eyebrows and you gently passed your hand into his silver curls.

"He is still my brother, and I will still protect him just like I protect Aerys." His words couldn't help but bring tears to your eyes. "Can you take me to bed momma?"

 "Of course my little dragon." 

-

"We should've told him when this started." You groaned as you entered the room. "This could ruin his whole day tomorrow." Aemond sighed and walked to you.

"Y/n it's going to be alright, Rhaegars is still young and doesn't understand what it all means yet."

"Aemond me and you both know our son isn't stupid." 

"Yes, I know." Aemond pulled you in his arms and gives you a big hug

"Well to me he took it quite well," Aegon interjects and you peered over Aemonds shoulder to glare at him.

-

"Aemomd what if he's not ready?" You ask him as the five of you walk to Rhaegar's room, Elyas strapped to your chest and Aerys in Aegons arms.

"My love me and you watch Rhaegar train with Aemond and Daemon all the time, we all know how good he has gotten." 

"I know, I know you're right I just don't want him to hurt himself." 

"He will not because I am going to go over the rules," Aemond says while he holds a long skinny box that carried Rhaegars present. It took a while to convince you to let him get a sword for his son. It was a small one, suitable for a six-year-old. You knocked on his door but received no response. 

"He is asleep." You opened the door and walked in. Rhaegar was curled up in his sheets, sleeping soundly. "Rhaegar." You shook him gently and he started to stir. 

"Muña?" He asks groggily.

"Happy name day my little dragon." He shot up immediately and a bright smile came to his face. You bent down and started kissing him all over his face, he giggled and moved away. He looked down to see Elyas' head poking out from the swaddle. 

"Hello, Elyas." He whispers and kisses his brother on the head. You turned your head to Aemond and Aegon and gave them a knowing smile. He the. looked around and saw his father, uncle, and little brothers. Rhaegar shuffled off the bed and immediately wrapped his arms around your legs then he ran to his father. Aemond set the case on the floor and went down to one knee and pulled his son in. 

"I remember when you were such a small thing." He placed a soft kiss on Rhaegars cheek. Aerys squirmed in Aegons and he set him, the little toddler then stumbled towards his father and brother to join the hug, laying his cheek on Aemonds bicep. Rhaegar pulled away and took a few steps to his uncle. 

"Morning, uncle." 

"Happy name day, Rhaegar." Aegon ruffled his nephew's curly silver hair and he giggled. You sat on the small bed and Aemond picked up the case.

"Rhaegar come here," Aemond says and Rhaegar started walking towards him. 

"Yes, father?" 

"I have a gift for you but you need to understand that this isn't a toy." He turned around and you saw your son's eyes brighten. 

"A sword? For me?" He instantly reached out for it, and Aemond placed it in his small hands. He instantly adjusted it in his hands to hold the handle.

"You will not swing this sword while your brothers or little cousins are near, this sword is for training purposes. Do I may myself clear? Because me and your mother will not hesitate to take it away from you, she knows how to handle a blade." 

"Yes, father." Rhaegar lowered the blade to his side. Aemond felt satisfied and turned back to grab the belt that contained the holster. 

"Put this on once you get ready." Rhaegar nodded and you smiled.

"Eowyn will escort you, we will be in the dining hall waiting, do not take long."  You say and he nods. You all start making your way out the door, Aerys holding your skirt with his thumb in his mouth.

When the door closed Rhaegar couldn't help but feel overjoyed. The events from the previous night washed away. The new sense of responsibility and freedom from his parents overthrew everything.

-

"The tourney is being prepared as we speak, it should be finished by noon." Says Daemon who was balancing Aerys on his knee.

"Good, we already have guests and other houses arriving." You say as you fed Elyas. "As well as Daeron and his wife."

"That's good, w-will my mother be there?" Asks Aegon, and as you were trying to come up with the words, Rhaenyra beat you to it. 

"Yes, Lady Alicent will be attending, she will be with us but has stated she won't be speaking to any of us or anything of the sort." Aemond and Aegon both bit their cheeks and they fumbled with their hands awkwardly. They loved their mother, no matter how much they went through with her, especially Aegon. It hurt that she wouldn't speak to them. 

Alicent only spent her visit with Helaena and her children. She visited Rhaegar and Aerys and only greeted Elyas if he was in the room, never seeking him out. Her and Rhaenyra's relationship was beyond repair when Rhaenyra was crowned queen and beheaded her father. Maybe he deserved it maybe he didn't, he caused Rhaenyra suffering during her youth and turned many people against her, as well as trying to unsurp the throne to put Aegon on there but it was shut down. 

"But on the bright side, Rhaena and Baela are arriving with Jace and Luke soon, and they'll be staying for the wedding." You say trying to brighten up the mood. Of course, you couldn't let your younger sisters in the dark, they knew everything that happened, and no doubt their husbands do too. "Daeron should also be arriving with Lady Baratheon but after the tourney, just in time for the celebration." 

"Ah, the man of the hour." Your father says as he looks at the big doors. You turn to see your son standing there with a big smile on his face. 

"Join us Rhaegar." Aemond patted a seat next to him and Rhaegar started walking towards him. Ser Eowyn trailed behind and pulled the chair back for Rhaegar and let him slide in before pushing it forward and stepping back. 

"How has your day been?" Asks Rhaenerya and you swore you could see the boy shake in excitement.

"Father has gifted me a sword!" 

"Oh, how exciting." She responds

"Lucky." Jaearhys pouts from the other side and Aegon raises an eyebrow.

"Well maybe if you attended your lessons you'd also have one." He poked his son's belly and he giggled. 

"Alright let us eat, we are all famished." The queen says and instantly the food is brought out. Everyone dug in, passing plates of food around so everyone got their share.

"Aemond are you ready?" Suddenly asks Daemon from across the table. You looked at both of them and set your utensils down.

"Ready for what?" 

"Father and Grandsire are going to be fighting against each other during the tourney." Your eyes widened as did everyone else's at Rhaegars words.

"Aemond, my love weren't you the one who said that you didn't give a shit about the tourney?" You placed a hand on his bicep and squeezed.

"I know what I said but my son wanted this and I will go through with it." You took in a deep breath before sitting back in your chair and grabbing the utensils again. 

"Okay." You say almost in an amusing tone, the tone that scared Aemond quite a bit. "Rhaegar, what else would you like to do before the Tourney?" 

"Um, would it be okay if uncle Aegon took me on Sunfyre?" Everyone looked at Aegon who had a blank stare. 

"You'd have to ask him." You felt Aegon place a hand on your thigh and squeeze. 

"If that's what you'd like, Sunfyre has been dying for a flight." Rhaegar nodded and sat back in his seat. Aegon released his grip on your leg and rubbed his thumb up and down. 

"It's going to be alright." 

Aegon didn't know if he believed you. 

-

As the dragon keepers brought out Sunfyre from the pit, Aegon was fastening the last pieces of his riding gear as you helped Rhaegar into his. Aemond had to go and prepare himself to fight. He left quickly, as much as he loved you he did not want to hear an earful from you. 

"Calm down Rhaegear." You say trying to calm him down. 

"Im just so excited." He says, practically bouncing on his heels.

"I know baby." Sunfyre crawled out of the pit and let out a roar. Aegon mumbled something to his golden dragon while rubbing his large nose and the dragon seemed to respond in his own way. To say you weren't jealous of their bond was an understatement. Vermithor is your grumpy dragon but you know the two of you love each other.

"Whenever you are ready Rhaegar." Says Aegon as he now waits patiently by Sunfyre. 

"Okay go." You say and he shot off to his uncle. You walked towards them and Aegon opened his arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" 

"I'm sure, have fun now." You kissed the edge of his mouth. Aegon smiled and nuzzled your cheek with his nose and placed a kiss on your jaw. 

Rhaegar looked up at his mother and uncle and furrowed his eyebrows at the man. But seeing the growing smile that adorned his mother's face made him relax. 

"Alright ill go up first, Rhaegar you follow, carefully." Aegon started his way up Sunfyre and settled on the saddle. He then leaned to the side and held his hand out. Rhaegar grabbed on the ropes and hoisted himself up like he's done many times before. Aegon grabbed the boy a lifted him up onto the saddle.

"Come back before the tourney." 

"Yes, princess." Aegon winked at you. "Soves Sunfyre." You stepped back as the golden dragon started walking towards the large exit before opening his wings and taking off. 

-

"Where do you want to go?" Asks Aegon as they now flew over the Keep. 

"Can we go over the sea?" 

"Of course." He urged Sunfyre to the direction of the water and it wasn't long until they were over it. 

"I love the water, do you?" Rhaegar asks and Aegon just chuckles. 

"It makes me quite uneasy." 

"Hmm." He grunted and Aegon smiled at the familiar sound. 

"I remember my mom crying a lot and my parents fighting." 

"Parents fighting is the worst," Aegon says, memories of his youth coming to mind.

"My father made my mother sad, but you make her happy... do you love my mother?" 

"Of course, I love her more than life itself." 

"Good, because if you didn't I'd have to kill you." 

To say Aegon didn't fall nervous is an understatement. His eye flashed to the side and saw Rhaegars little hand on the handle of his sword. 

"If you hurt her, I will hurt you." Receiving a threat from a 6-year-old was not something Aegon was expecting. 

"I wouldn't dream of hurting your mother." 

"Good." A silence fell over them, Sunfyre flapping in the air. "I'm still going to call you uncle, but I wouldn't mind if Aerys calls you father, he is still young, and doesn't understand." 

Aegon's hands started to twitch as he tightened them.

"I appreciate that, but in the end, it's truly up to your parents."

"I know." Rhaegar looked down to see a ship flying the Velaryon and Targaryen flags. "I think those are my aunts and uncles." Aegon looked down and smiled. 

"Why don't we go great them?" 

"Really?" Rhaegar looked up at him with large violet eyes. 

"Of course, I never miss a chance to give our family a scare." They smile at each other mischievously before Aegon urged Sunfyre to go up near the sun.

"Why so high?" 

"Im assuming nobody has taught you battle tactics on dragon back?" Rhaegar shakes his head. "Well, say the enemy has yet to spit you yet, if you fly up just enough towards the sun the glare of it will shine on your enemies preventing them from seeing you until you're already attacking." 

"That is smart." When they got into position Aegon made sure to tighten his arm around Rhaegar tightly. 

"Hold on." Sunfyre started to dip down towards the ships. Rhaegar giggled and laughed as the fast winds almost blew him away. But just before Sunfyre hit the water, Aegon pulled the reins gently and the dragon straighten out just behind the ships. The force Sunfyre created brought water in waves behind him, completely drenching the people in the ships. People shouted in displeasure as they watched the golden dragon take off.

"Sorry, Auntie," Rhaegear yelled loudly down to the ships and the twin sisters just shook their heads in displeasure when they noticed who it was. 

-

"Please do not injure yourself or get killed by my father, he has many reasons to kill you." You say as you stand in the corner of Aemonds tent.

"He won't kill me, hurt me yes." He mumbles and you sigh. "When are Rhaegear and Aegon returning?"

"Hopefully-." You were cut off by the tent opening and a little boy running in. 

"Father! Aegon took me so high up and we snuck up on my aunts and uncles it was exhilarating!" Rhaegar practically threw himself at Aemond. 

"And how did you do that?" As Rhaegar explain the tactic to his father(that Aemond already knew), Aegon leaned over to you.

"He threatened me." Your eyes widened and Aegon just holds his hand out.

"It's alright, he must get it from being with Daemon so much. He just wanted to protect you." 

"Hmph, doesn't mean it's right. Rhaegar let's go see your grandfather then sit down." You walked to them and placed a hand on Aemonds shoulder. "I'll see you later." You pecked his lips a few times before Aemond deepened it. 

Rhaegar looked back at Aegon and he stuck his tongue out in disgust. Aegon chuckled at the reaction and shook his head. 

"See you out there." 

The brothers watched you leave hand in hand with Rhaegar.

"Well, now Daemon can now kill you without any legal consequences." 

"I know." 

"Don't die. Please." The sudden crack in Aegon's voice caught Aemond off guard. "Imagine how destroyed Y/n would be, your children, our mother, Helaena... Me. I've grown to really care about you brother." Aemond swallowed thickly and looked down.

"As have I." He says quietly. "I'm not dying, I can't even fathom leaving any of you behind." 

"Good."

Aegon couldn't help but walk up to his brother and place his hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down. Aemond hesitated slightly but let his brother place his slightly chapped lips on his cheek. Aegon let his lips linger before pulling back. Aemond turned his head letting the tips of their noses brush gently.

"Kiss me." It came out a small whimper almost, Aegon could barely hear it. 

"Win and I will." 

- 

Aegon settled in beside you and you immediately grabbed his hand. 

"Did you talk to Daemon?" 

"Yes and he said he wouldn't kill him, but that doesn't mean he won't do something." 

"It's going to be fine." He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. He heard a familiar laugh to his side and looked to see his mother laughing with her ladies-in-waiting. He searched for her eyes but received nothing.

The Herald stepped out onto the ground and started saying what he had to say. It was quite boring so you just chose not to pay attention. 

"Now for our first fight. Our Prince Consort, Daemon Targaryen versus Prince Aemond Targaryen." People cheered and screamed for them, you tried but only clapping came out. 

Daemon came out on a black horse wearing his helmet with dragon wings on it. Aemond then came out on his grey horse he's had since his teens, he wore his heavy armor and a helmet that didn't hide most of his face, so it would make it easier on his eyesight.

They trotted their horses to the royal family stand and stopped side by side. 

"I would like to ask for the favor of the Queen," Daemon says and lowers his head. Everyone looked at Rhaenyra and she stood up and walked to the table that carried all the favors of the other ladies and princess. They both smiled at each other, such admiration in their eyes. 

"Princess Y/n, may I have your favor, it shall help ease me into victory." You grabbed your favor and tossed it on the poll. You leaned against the railing and frowned. "Don't do that gevie, ill be fine."

"Okay." You immediately turned away and sat back next to Aegon, watching the two men go to their spots. Aegon looked at you and watched a tear run down your cheek. 

"Hey hey, don't do that." He grabbed your chin and tilted you towards him. "He's gonna be fine."

The Targaryen men went to their respective sides and waited for the horns. A fanfare started playing followed by drums. The Herold raised his flag and quickly lowered it. 

They yelled and urged their horses to run. Right before they reached the middle, they lowered their poles down. But before they touched you instantly looked away just hearing the crash. Rhaegar cheered beside and Aegon elbowed you. 

"Still on their horses." He kissed the side of your head. They were on opposite sides now, grabbing new polls to charge back at each other. This was usually the time when one would be knocked down, and it's never Daemon. 

Aemond crashed to the floor and everyone sucked in a breath. Daemon hopped off his horse and was handed the Dark Sister and a shield. Aemonds sword was thrown at him and landed next to his head.

"Fuck." He groaned already regretting agreeing to this. He scrambled to his feet, swiping the sword in the process. Daemon was looking at him in amusement while slowly walking towards him. "Remember our agreement uncle?" Daemon just chuckled.

"Yes I know, but you think I will let you win so quickly without me getting a few strikes in." Daemon raised his sword to strike but was blocked by Aemonds shield. They grunted and yelled as they clashed. People cheered but Rhaegar seemed the loudest. He cheered for both his grandpa and father. 

"You're getting old uncle," Aemond says as he watches Daemon pant and limp. 

"And I can still kick your ass." It seemed to spur Daemon on so he charged. Aemomd doges and swung his sword back slashing Daemon. He cradled his side as blood started seeping through. 

“I doubt that.” Aemomd almost laughed and they clashed again. It wasn’t long until Aemond manages to trick his uncle and knocked him to the ground. The people cheered loudly, some yelling to Aemond to finish Daemon. 

“In any other circumstance, I would run you through,” Daemon says as Aemonds blade sits on his jugular. 

“Not with your son here you won’t.” Aemond let the blade slice the skin slightly and watched the blood start to ooze out before pulling the sword away. 

Aemond didn’t dwell on his victory and limped away from all the cheering.

-

The party was in full swing. The people were dancing and getting drunk. And it was now at the point where you could relax and enjoy yourself after feeding Elyas and making sure Aerys was asleep. 

Rhaegar was enjoying the party, mostly because he got to play around with his cousins. Daemon has gifted him a small dagger and has been warned multiple times to not pull it out on his cousins. 

Aemond got patched up but the fall from the tourney has kept him sat for the entire party.

Aegon drank wine but only small sips so he doesn’t drink much, while he twirled Jaehaera around. 

You on the other hand got whisked away by your father for a dance.

“You bounced back quicker than Aemond.” You laugh and he chuckles. 

“He still has much to learn if he ever wants to be as good as me.” 

“He will be better.” You say and look at your husband who was in deep conversation with the queen. “I know it.” 

“Hmm, Aegon seems to be doing better.”

“He is.”

“Does Rhaegar know? About the three of you?” 

“He does, it will be slow but I know he will accept.” You look up and him and he smiles. 

“I'm so proud of you.” He says and grabs the side of your head and placed a kiss on your forehead. Tears start to well up in your eyes and you sniffed. 

“Thank you.” You wrapped your arms around his body and held him tight. Daemon hugged you back tightly, but the moment was short-lived. 

Some bumped into you harshly making you stumble. 

“Excuse me?” Daemon starts and he pulls away. An older man, a lord really, turns around and scoffs. “Apologize to the Princess.” Daemon places his hand on the hilt of his sword, at this point people have stopped and looked, Aegon ushered his daughter to her mother and moved his way to the crowd to stand next to you and grab your arms. 

“I will not apologize to that whore.” People gasped and Aegons hands tightened. “She is unfaithful to her husband and had a bastard child with her husband’s brother, now the three of them are to be wed.” 

“Choose your next words carefully, Lord,” Aegon says, darkly almost. 

“I will not listen to a man who intends to marry a whore, and fathers a bastard at that. Who knows maybe all her fucking children are bastards. AHH FUCK.” He was suddenly stabbed in the thigh. When you all looked you saw Rhaegar holding his new dagger to the Lord's leg. “Oh, you stupid cunt.” The lord shoved Rhaegar hard to the ground earning more gasps. 

“Shoving a Prince is Treason, Take him!” Rhaenerya yells at her guards and they start moving but it was too late. The lord suddenly had no head. His body fell to the ground and his head rolled toward the people. Aemond stood above him already cleaning his sword.

“Tis not a party without a death.” 

You instantly ran to Rhaegar and grabbed him from the floor. 

“Oh, my sweet dragon are you alright?” 

“Yes, mama.” He says but you could see tears. “I wanted to protect you.” 

“And you did,” Aemond says and crouches behind him. “You did well.” Rhaegar dug his face into your neck and you pulled him in tight. Aemond kissed both of your heads before standing. “I think we should turn in.” You nodded in agreement and kissed Rhaegars cheek before standing. 

“Let's get you to bed.” You walked past everyone and left with Ser Eoywn in tow. 

“I will oversee that the cunt is made into dragon food, the two of you should go with her.” 

“We will,” Aegon says and tugs on Aemonds arm. 

-

“Okay go get ready and you can sleep with us tonight.” You tell Rhaegar and his eyes light up.

“Okay.” He runs out of the room almost knocking into Awmond and Aegon on the way. 

“He is going to spend the night with us.” You tell them and they say nothing.

“Are you alright?” 

“I guess.” Aegon pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t listen to what they say, it's not true.”

“I know.” You kiss his neck and pull away. You looked at Aemond and smile. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” 

Rhaegar came in already for bed. 

“Im ready.” You all laughed and he climbed on the huge bed. 

“We’re going to get ready for bed you just wait there.” You say and walk away to change. Aemond goes to follow but Rhaegar calls for him. 

“Kepa.” He turns around to his son.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for protecting me and mama.” Aemond can't help but smile.

“I will always protect all of you, u til my last breath.” 

-

A/n- this was unnecessarily too fucking long

[joesheistyy]

Family Barbecue

anon this was such a cute request, i love it and i hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! <3

——

It was your favorite time of year, the summer time. Time to spend with family and friends and especially some drinks. Every July, the Burrow family would host a family-wide barbecue. You had been attending for years, and Joe’s parents made sure that their planning always worked with your schedule and Joe’s schedule.

Ever since Joe brought you to the first family barbecue after being together for 5 months, his family knew that you were the one for him. You always offered to help cook, clean, entertain the kids, or do anything else they needed. They all saw how Joe looked at you too, with pride in his eyes.

This was year 5 of going to the family Barbecue, and Joe’s family kept poking fun at him about how he hasn’t popped the marriage question yet. They wanted it just as bad as you did.

“Joey, are you ready to go?” You yelled up the stairs from the kitchen. Joe took just as long as a girl getting ready some days.

“Yes baby, I’ll be down in a sec,” he responded back as you heard frantic footsteps up the stairs. You were a planner, and Joe was not. You had a timeline of what needed to be done when, and Joe just went with the flow until he got distracted and needed to be directed back to what needed to be done.

You headed out the garage door, loading your cooler of drinks into the backseat of Joe’s car. The snack bag you had packed followed the drinks. Your overnight bags were packed last. Since his parents lived an hour and a half away and there would be drinks consumed, his parents offered up their extra bedroom for the two of you.

After double checking your list that was stationed on the island, Joe finally came down the stairs, looking as handsome as ever. He was wearing just a basic pair of gym shorts, a bengals tshirt, and his white Nike athletic shoes. Of course, the dork had his shirt tucked in. That was something you always messed with him about.

“Cmon babe, we gotta go or we’re gonna be way late,” you said, leading the way to the garage to finally leave. An hour and a half drive still ahead of you.

Joe grabbed a bottle of water from the garage fridge and got in the car. You settled yourself in the passenger seat with your Nintendo Switch Lite with Animal Crossing ready to go. While you didn’t hardcore game, some Animal Crossing and Minecraft here and there were sometimes what you did to entertain yourself.

After hitting the road, Joe played his music and hummed along as you were focused on your game. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove along. Eventually, you got tired of playing your game, so you decided to take a short nap. You leaned your seat back a bit and propped up your pillow between your shoulder and the window.

"Can you let me know when we're like half an hour away?" you asked, Joe replied, "Of course babe, you gonna put on your makeup then?" he questioned, glancing over at you for a second. You replied with a hum and curled to a semi-comfortable place to nap.

pat pat pat

Joe patted you awake, you stirred and lifted the back of your seat up.

"We're half an hour away honey," he said, smiling in your direction as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Thanks Joey, now don't brake check anyone," you joked with him, poking at his arm. You pulled your makeup bag out of your car bag, opting for just some eyebrow filling and mascara, and of course highlight. That was your favorite step of your makeup routine.

As you pulled into Joe's parent's neighborhood, you collected your things in your bag and freshened up your outfit. You chose to wear your favorite pair of jean shorts and a cute flowy tank top.

Pulling into the driveway, Joe's parents came to greet you. The 3pm air was hot but with a breeze. Hugs were given and passed, and as you approached the house, Joe's nephew Jordan came running up to you.

"Y/n!" he cheered with his little 3 year old voice. That alone melted your heart.

"Hi Jordan! How's my big guy doing?" you asked and picked him up, resting him on your hip.

"Good! Let's go play!" He squirmed, wanting to be put down to go run around. You could tell he was fresh from his nap that was taken earlier. If only naps for adults were that rejuvenating.

"We can play here in a minute, but could you use your big, strong muscles to help us?" you tickled his stomach. He pretended to flex. He ran out to the car where Joe and his parents were, clinging to Joe's leg. Joe picked him up and gave him a little fist bump.

"Y/n said I can use my big muscles to help!" Jordan said with a smile on his face. Joe set him down and handed him the smallest bag. You grabbed your overnight bag and the cooler and headed inside with Jordan leading the way.

After placing your things in the guest room, you followed Jordan outside to go say hi to Joe's siblings and their partners. You cracked open your first drink of the night while Jim worked on grilling up some hamburgers and hot dogs.

Jordan pulled you over to the swing set, you set him in the swing that looked like a little car, pulling him toward you to get the momentum going. You continued to push Jordan in the swing as he laughed the cutest little laugh.

Joe was admiring from afar with a beer in hand. He was standing with his dad while he grilled, watching you play with Jordan, a smile spread along his face. You two had talked about kids before, but a ring needed to come first.

The next thing that Jordan wanted to do was race you and Joe. Of course, Joe said yes, setting his beer down to race.

"Okay, Jordan count us down," you say, lining up to begin to run.

"Okay y/n, 3...2..." and Jordan was off before the count of 1. You and Joe giggled, but eventually ran and tried to catch up to him. Jordan had passed the established finish line before you and Joe could get there. He jumped in excitement.

"I'm not letting you beat me, y/n" Joe huffed out as he began to run up to you, tackling you to the ground.

"Burrow, you're a quarterback, not a defensive end, my god," you groaned after hitting the ground, allowing laughs to escape your mouth. Jordan came over and giggled, climbing on top of Joe who was still on top of you.

"Uncle Joe sandwich!" you cheered and grabbed for Jordan's hand. You all giggled and eventually, Joe wormed his way out of being between you and Jordan. He outstretched a hand to you, helping you up.

Eventually, dinner was served and everyone gathered in the screened in porch to eat. Jordan insisted on sitting between you and Joe. Jordan's mom plopped his booster seat down in the chair between you and Joe. Jordan dug into his food as soon as it was set in front of him, ketchup ending up all over his hands, face, and clothes. As you ate, you would use your napkin to dab off Jordan's face, causing your napkin to turn red from the mess he had made.

Joe looked at you admirably, adoring how good you were with kids. You secretly hoped that Joe would see how good you were with kids and want to hurry up and propose already.

After dinner, Jordan helped you clean up the dining space by taking the empty paper plates to the trashcan and leading you to the paper towels so he could help you wipe down. You lifted him up to grab the roll off the island inside, carrying him like Buzz Lightyear back out to the patio, giggles filling the air.

The rest of the family had gone to sit out by the fire pit, insisting that you not do any cleaning up. But you couldn't just not help, it wasn't like you. And you could maneuver Jordan into doing anything with you, which also gave his parents a break.

Out at the fire pit, you could see the rest of the family laughing and joking. You admired Joe from the screened in porch while you waited on Jordan to run in and take the dirty paper towels to the trash can. Jordan ran out, tugging at your arm to go join the rest of the family.

You and Jordan joined the rest of the family, sitting down on the outdoor blanket. You sat criss cross applesauce and Jordan sat in your lap and played with your fingers while letting out yawns.

After a few more drinks, Jordan was asleep in your lap. His parents seemed ready to go, so you offered to help Jordan into his car seat.

You headed out to their car, carrying Jordan with his head resting on your shoulder.

"Thanks for playing with him and taking care of him today, y/n. It was a really nice break for us, he's a wild one," Joe's brother said.

"It's really no problem, I had so much fun with this little ball of energy," you chuckled as you set Jordan in his car seat, buckling him in.

"One of these days, I want y'all to give him a cousin," Joe's brother laughed out. You hugged and went your separate ways.

Joe and his parents had transitioned to inside the house, working to clean up the kitchen.

"How can I help?" you asked as you walked in on them all doing different cleaning activities.

"Babe you helped plenty today, go take a shower or relax. We got this," Joe said as he brought you into his embrace. There really wasn't much left to clean up.

After things had been cleaned up, everyone moved to the couch to sit and relax a bit before bed. It was about 9:30 and the exhaustion from the day was hitting you. You let out a soft yawn as Joe pulled you to lean into his shoulder.

"I think we're gonna head to bed. It's been a long day," Joe announces to his parents as he stands up off the couch. You follow.

When getting to your room for the night, you headed straight for the shower. Playing with Jordan all day got you sweaty and stinky, not to mention the July heat.

"Babe I loved watching you play with Jordan today. I can't wait for us to have our own kids one day. A little Joe and y/n stumbling around," Joe said, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Me too Joey, me too," you sighed as you stepped into the warm shower.

After such a long day, a shower and some snuggles were great.

You and Joe were cuddled up into bed when he blurted out, "I love you, y/n and I want to marry you some day. I promise it'll be soon,"

"I love you too Joey, and I can't wait for that day. It'll be the best day of our lives," you smile as you close your eyes, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up alone. That's not normally how things went when you and Joe stayed with his parents. He'd wait for you so you could leave the bedroom together.

You slid on your slippers and headed for the kitchen, following the smell of bacon. When you began to approach the entrance to the kitchen, you heard conversation. Sometimes, you loved to eavesdrop, but you also hated to butt in during conversation, so you stood by the doorway, out of sight of Joe and his parents.

"So when are you finally gonna pop the question?" his dad nudged at him.

"Soon, I swear. I've got the ring picked out and everything, I just need to send it to my jeweler," Joe said as he set out silverware.

"We love her and it's about time she became part of the family for real," his mom spoke out, walking up to Joe to lovingly rub his back. His family had been pestering him for a while to propose, but he wanted to do it on his own time, which you understood.

"It'll be soon, I promised that to her and I promise that to you all. Cause after seeing her with Jordan yesterday, I know she is who I'm meant to marry. Not that I didn't have those thoughts before, it just really proved to me that it's about time I asked her to marry me," Joe responded in a soft voice, trying not to allow his voice to carry.

You stood in the doorway for a minute more just to make sure the conversation was over. Soon, you approached Joe and pulled him into a side hug. He held onto you for a minute before leading you both to fill your plates with breakfast food.

You had a peaceful morning with Joe and his parents. You loved his family and couldn't wait to officially join it.

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Two: I Think I Wanna Marry You

a/n: here’s chapter two of my purely self-indulgent fun, which shouldn’t be taken very seriously, if at all fic. haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: hugely unedited; mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

-

-

The move itself brings a second dose of reality you never fully thought through.

Seeing Steve there, with his dark BMW, sunglasses on his face. He’s popped the trunk already and it’s with that sudden clarity you’re reminded that it’s happening.

That this is real and not some dream you’ve imagined in your mind.

You’re marrying him. In four weeks. Thirty days, exactly. A countdown to the next three years of your life. The other half of your “paperwork” you’re going to sign when you scribble your name along that certification of your marriage.

You work in comfortable silence. Robin and Nancy come along too for assistance, and with the combination of efforts, Steve’s car is packed in less than two hours. You’re shocked he’s even bothered to do it himself, and not order some sort of moving company. But when you point that out to him, he only shrugs and says he wanted to help.

Apparently it’s the least he can do for getting a wife at the end of all of this.

That and countless zeros on a check that he doesn’t even need or want.

Once your things are all settled in the trunk and backseat, Robin wanders over to where you both stand on the sidewalk, arms looping tight around your frame. She steps back and moves to tousle Steve’s hair, earning a sharp jerk of his body out of contact and an utterance of complaint from the taller man.

With a snort, she says, “You love me, don’t deny it.”

And he does. You know that much. He’s been closer with Robin for a year or so now. A direct result of her relationship with Nancy. Nancy’s job as a journalist, often documenting his life or the accolades of his family, has established a bond between the three. You try to tamper that slight jealousy.

The fact is that both Robin and Eddie have more insight into the man you’re marrying than you do.

You were always too busy, after all. Working or deep in your own studies and missing out on the many evenings Steve invited them all to join him in his outings. You suppose you’ll rectify that soon. There’s a lot two people can learn in three years—if he’s open to it, that is.

That awareness of truly not knowing him settles in as you clamber into the passenger seat, thumb sliding awkwardly over the band of your engagement ring to fiddle idly. He turns the dial on the music, something pop and current, and you lean back against your seat, letting the quiet of the morning wash over you.

You wake some time later to the sound of Steve’s voice in your ear, announcing, “Hey. We made it.”

Sleep lingers in your eyes as you shift in your seat to take him in. Dark eyes greet yours, sunglasses tucked into the neckline of his shirt. Your gaze then slides to the imposing building on a side of the city you’ve never really ventured outside of your coffee date with him some days prior.

It stands proud, tall and looming, with workers at the ready, prepped with carts for your things.

“They’ll take care of bringing everything up, and I thought maybe we could grab a coffee,” he suggests, moving to open his door. He tosses the valet his key and waltzes over to your side, opening the door for you. “How does that sound?”

You’re suddenly aware of the state of your clothes. Nothing more than a pair of baggy mom jeans and a striped tee shirt. Some white tennis shoes that are veering on brown in some areas from overuse.

Then there’s Steve, in dark wash jeans and a shirt you know likely still cost him a small fortune. Effortlessly handsome as always with a Chanel watch strapped around the wrist extended toward you.

You take his palm, nearl tripping over the bump of the curb as you go, your side thumping against his. He curls you there instead of letting you go, an arm around your shoulder, waving to the workers as they shift and swirl around you.

Keeping up appearances already, you suppose.

One pauses to dip their head your way, beaming brightly, asking, “It’s the girl from Instagram. Congratulations, Miss. Or rather, soon to be Mrs. Harrington.”

The name drops something akin to cool dread in your stomach. But you smile all the same. “You know what they say. When you know—” You tip your head up to look at him, gripping him by the jaw and giving him a soft wiggle. “You know.”

In your palm, Steve forces a grin. A little wild, a little smushed and silly, but the worker smiles all the same and wishes you both a good morning. Leaves you standing beside your soon to be husband on the side of an unfamiliar street, in an unfamiliar new town, ready to walk into your unfamiliar home.

“Coffee sounds good, actually,” you decide, wanting to be anywhere other than stuck in the awkward silence of the moment, and follow him down the sidewalk.

-

By the time you return, Steve’s been alerted that all your things have been brought up to the penthouse. Coffee in hand, you walk through the swirling doors, standing as close to Steve as humanly possible without truly touching him. There are people there to greet him, realizations in the back of your mind that he must be well-known. Amicable and kind, they offer warm welcomes to both you and your future husband as you’re led to an elevator that brings you all the way up to the top floor.

It’s from there, you’re brought into the place you’ll be spending the next few years. But what greets you is far greater than you even imagined. Endless floor to ceiling windows that overlook the cityscape. High, vaulted ceilings, impossibly white walls. Dark furniture throughout the living area, the kitchen. Against the living room wall rests the largest television you’ve seen, presently off, though Steve turns it on to allow some music to play and break the awkward silence as he walks you around.

He’s already told you the general layout of his space: two bathrooms, multiple bedrooms, a fully decked out personal gym, movie area, dining area, outdoor patio, a study that also poses as his office, a library. It seems impossible to have this much space, and yet the further into the suite you walk, the more real it becomes.

“Seems not lived in, though,” you comment out loud, taking in the impressively clean place. Especially knowing Steve doesn’t spend much time at all here. “Like there’s all this space and nothing to fill it with.”

He huffs out a laugh, not disagreeing. “You can spruce it up if you want. I’ll give you my card. Whatever you like to make it feel like yours. Because, well, it is yours.”

“Yours, mine, and ours, right?” You awkwardly laugh, walking over to look out the windows and take in the bustling city below. “It’s amazing.”

“It’s…yeah, you know, I guess it is.” He sidles up next to you, peering out where you are. He frowns, contemplative. “I guess I don’t think about it often. I wake up to it every day.”

Another stark reminder of just how different your lives are.

“How was wedding planning with my mom?” he asks, drawing you attention to his face. His fingers card through his hair, his feet carrying him over to the kitchen to pull out a glass. He adds a second, asking, “Anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” you say, hands clasped behind your back as you join him. “We went over color schemes. I ended up with pale pinks, lavenders and a tiny pop of gold. More so the accents. We will be looking for a dress tomorrow. Kind of shitting myself over that one.”

“I can come—if you want?” He suggests, holding your glass in front of him.

“Isn’t that bad luck?” you tease, taking a sip.

“Pretty sure that’s only at the wedding.”

“Right.” The wedding. In thirty days. “I mean, if you wanted to come…”

“I’ll be there,” he promises, opening his phone and showing you the calendar app. “What time?”

“Your mother got us a private appointment at twelve. I told her she didn’t have to do that but—”

“She’s excited. She’s getting a daughter out of this. Sometimes I think she wishes I’d been a girl,” he laughs, though there’s a hint of bitterness there you don’t miss. “Here—let me show you your room.”

You trail after him in silence, eyes taking in everything you pass. Boring, empty walls. No pops of color. No personal photos. Nothing indicative of life. Not even a shred of memorabilia from his childhood, or something of sentimental value from his boyhood. It seems odd, though you don’t press him on it. Instead you allow him to bring you through the tour, before stopping in front of a closed door.

“This,” he says, tapping on the exterior, “is my room. In case you ever need me. And here…”

You walk further down the way and stop in front of another door. “Will be your room. All your things will have already been moved in. You just have to unpack and make it yours. I do have some work I need to get to now, but I’m around if you need me.”

“It’s the weekend…” you point out, fingers around the door handle.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “But with all that’s going on, I want to make sure everything is taken care of before the wedding and our honeymoon.”

Honeymoon.

Right.

To that private island in the Maldives.

A honeymoon for two people who are most definitely not intimate and, therefore, should not be spending money like this is anything more than a mere sham.

Still, your flights are booked, accommodations made, and itinerary is set. It was the first thing his mother had done other than figuring out what color palette you preferred.

“So, uh, I’ll talk to you…later then,” you say, shifting awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Yeah, later.” He nods.

And suddenly, you’re Cinderella once more.

Standing there in that doorway, in her too-big home, with that pumpkin instead of a carriage.

-

Though you’ve never spent much time fantasizing about shopping for your wedding dress, it never quite looks like what you see around you now.

For starters, you imagined your mother would be there. Kind, bright and smiling. There to tell you how beautiful you look, to coax you through your nerves, to remind you that this is the most special day of your life coming up and to just enjoy the moment.

But it’s not. And you’re left standing on a pedestal in front of Mrs. Harrington, your father, sister, Eddie and Robin. Further off in the distance is Steve, phone against his face as it has been since you woke that morning.

Steve’s always busy, you soon realize. In the private car to take you to the boutique? He had a work conference call. In the kitchen while you ate your breakfast? Another phone call. Now here, while a bridal attendant works with his mother to find you some options to try on? He’s got some major meltdown to help sort out.

You understand, and yet there’s a slight sting there you’re not expecting. The idea that he said he would be there for your try-on session, but he’s not really there. Not emotionally, at least.

“Still can’t believe you got Eddie to come,” Caroline laughs, elbowing the man in question as he snatches her up and shakes her vigorously. “Stop it, asshole—”

“Caroline!” your father snaps, leaning back into the couch cushion as another attendant passes out glasses of champagne for all present.

They even manage to find some juice for your sister, so she feels involved with the process.

“So, we picked a few beautiful pieces. A lot of these are brand new, so you won’t have to worry about someone else wearing the same dress—”

“Oh I’m not concerned about—”

Mrs. Harrington clears her throat, waving her champagne flute in the air. “Only the best for my future daughter in law.”

You shoot a weak grin Robin’s way.

Eddie gives you a reassuring thumbs up, arm still around Caroline’s neck despite her protesting.

The next few hours are a whirlwind of trying on dress after dress. Fancy beading, endless lace, plunging backs, dramatic trains, striking silhouettes.

You’re decked in beading from head to toe, diamond encrusted gowns, gowns that look like they’re better suited for royalty than on the girl who grew up in Hawkins. Who worked at her little hole in the wall restaurant and had a normal, unglamorous upbringing.

It hits you as you’re standing there, with a veil that looks to be studded with expensive jewels, staring at your own reflection that this isn’t you. None of these are. And even if you’re marrying someone to help them fulfill a will and to secure a debt for your own self, there’s a part of you that wants to do things your way.

If you’re going to get married to Steve Harrington, you want to feel like yourself while doing it. “Do you have something more…simple? Classic. Understated, maybe?”

The bridal attendant looks to your future mother-in-law like you have grown five dozen heads, and the look your mother-in-law then gives you tells you she is agreeing with the same sentiment.

Her gaze wavers, shifting over to where her son is pacing in the background, before she shifts back to where you stand on a podium.

The girl in a fancy ball gown that feels like a costume more than anything else.

“What are you thinking, sweetheart?” she asks, and you blow out a heavy breath.

Your guests shift on the couch awkwardly as you hop off the podium and peruse the dozens of racks. You point out the ones that seem more comfortable, more like something you would have picked up on your own even before all of this. Simpler designs, classical silhouettes, subtle beading.

All in all, you end up in a stunning a-line princess, v-neck wedding gown with thin straps and a pretty lace detailing along the low back.

A minimalistic veil is placed at the back of your head and draped around you like a billowing halo, trailing down the pedestal and onto the cream carpeting below.

Behind you, Eddie whistles.

Caroline snaps photos on her phone.

Robin’s shouting, “Holy shit, babe.”

And when you turn around to your father and future mother-in-law, you know you’ve made the right decision in trusting your gut. Both have snatched tissues from a nearby tissue box and dab ceaselessly at their eyes, sniffling audibly.

“You look beautiful, honey,” your father says around a sob.

Bottom lip wobbling, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Mrs. Harrington waves in her son’s direction, calling over her shoulder, “Steve, look at your bride. Stop being rude.”

When he turns around, there’s a moment. A brief one, you think, where he pauses. Maybe it’s a realization he’s making a huge mistake, the understanding that he’s going to have a wife in a few short weeks, the idea that he’s giving up his future for three years. But there’s a thought, however fleeting, where his eyes widen and you wonder if it’s actually none of those at all.

Without a name to place that emotion to, you simply swallow and mutter softly, “Well, what do you think?”

Eddie leans against the couch, fingers draping over the plush back as he asks out loud, “Yeah, Stevie, what do you think?”

It’s a threat.

Veiled.

There’s no danger, not really, but Steve swallows all the same.

Wavers a bit as he looks to Eddie, then back to you.

He swallows again, and says, “You’re beautiful, honey.”

Disappointment sinks like an anchor of dread, because you wonder if he even means it.

-

Cake testing a week later fares no better. You’re still getting used to your new routine. Waking up early to an empty home in an empty room that hardly feels like yours. Steve’s usually off to sort out something with the business, while you’re left to your own devices.

Which means phone calls with the wedding planner, pictures sent back and forth between Steve and your future mother-in-law about decisions made, which Steve always just sends and thumbs up emoji back to, and trying to make sense of a wedding that only one half of the couple has been privy to.

Sure, he’d been there when you picked out your dress. But he hadn’t been for the floral arrangements, for figuring out what the bridesmaids will wear as well as the groomsmen. And he’s definitely not there when you’re presented with options for musical entertainment.

So it comes as a shock when he does end up coming for the cake testing. And since he’s free to do so, his mother stays home, suggesting it’ll be an intimate moment for you two. Something about how the cake is important.

You hold back your biting remarks about how it’s just a cake, and instead thank her.

Whine a bit on the phone to really sell the fact that you ‘miss Stevie’—in case she doubts the validity of your engagement. She’s not really shown any indications of such, but you’re growing more mindful of the importance of appearances.

Because it’s in that first week your name pops up in the popular pages of instagram and other social media platforms. There’s even a TikTok of you walking on a busy city street with Steve and Eddie, where people bring to question if you and Steve are already fighting based on your body language.

Though, you do suppose there’s some weight to their remarks. In said video, you’re standing closer to Eddie than Steve, and Steve’s phone is in the hand nearest to you. The one they suggest he should really be holding if he’s as in love as he is. It sounds ridiculous, but it does make sense.

In their eyes, you’re more likely to be dating the famous rockstar based on body language alone than your fiancé.

Wedding planning should be butterflies in your belly, heart eyes for days, wrapped up in one another sort of affection. Steve and you, on the other hand, are two people walking side by side and yet not together.

You understand you need to change that. So as you walk down the street that evening on your way to the bakery, you mutter out, “Hold my hand.”

“What?” He’s typing on his phone, as always. The sound of keyboard clicking meets your ears, before he locks the screen and slides it into his pocket.

“Hold,” you say. There’s a little extra bite this time, “my hand.”

He exhales. “Why?”

“Because you’re in love with me and we’re getting married in less than twenty days,” you remind him.

Less than three weeks. Just under that, really. A thought that immediately has your skin prickling with nervousness and anticipation. Three weeks until you have a new name, a new husband.

“And we’re on our way to our cake testing,” you add, lacing your fingers through his. “People have been talking about us on social media.”

“Saying what?” He leads you down a side street, and then another.

“That we look uncomfortable with one another. That it seems like we must be fighting, because you don’t show me any affection in public—”

“I’ve been—”

“Busy, I know. But they don’t know that, so they’ll fill in the blanks when applicable,” you explain, giving his palm a light squeeze. “So I think we should get used to the public displays of affection, don’t you? I mean, we’re going to have to kiss at the altar, for one. And then there’s the dancing at the reception. Photos. Events.”

“I guess you’re right,” he agrees.

“I know I’m right,” you joke, allowing him to open the door for you to the building.

-

“Cake testing can be intimate. This is one of your first meals as a couple, so it needs to be representative of your relationship. The two of you. The love you share,” the cake maker explains, her hands waving to and fro in the air like she’s painting a picture.

You glance over at Steve. He offers a shrug, likely just as uncertain as to what the hell this lady is getting at. “Pardon?”

“You want a cake that is representative of your love. A symbol—if you will.”

“It’s just a c—” Steve begins, but the older woman narrows her gaze darkly and he clears his throat. Uncomfortable. “Honey, why don’t you handle this one?”

“Oh, but darling, you’re the cake connoisseur.” You pat the hand holding yours affectionately atop the table, forcing a megawatt grin on your lips.

“Is that so?” Madeleine asks, cat eye glasses sliding lower down the bridge of her nose. “In that case, did you have any ideas for what you imagined the cake at your wedding to look like?”

Steve’s hand nervously grows tighter around yours. You hiss at the throbbing pain that develops there when your knuckles smash together. The grasp immediately loosens, a thumb coming to slide gently over the sore areas.

You choose to ignore the rush of heat that swoops low in your belly, though.

“Well—I pictured…a cake,” he expresses lamely.

“What my dear fiancé means to say is…we’ve been so caught up with the rush of wedding planning we haven’t given it much thought,” you giggly airily, faux coyness filling your tone. “You know how it is. We’re just so excited to spend the rest of our lives together. So we were hoping maybe you’d be able to suggest some options for us.”

Because you’re also not sure how to tell them your cake needs to be representative of a mix of high levels of shame and “I was drowning in debt and Steve offered assistance, so long as I become his wife.”

Madeleine huffs and gets to work.

Later, the two of you stumble back onto the street with a cake picked out and designed to Madeleine’s liking. A red velvet center with some endless swirling flowers along the exterior in the color scheme of your wedding.

“A cake reflective of our relationship,” he mutters, shaking his head as he reaches for your palm once more. “And what was that? Sacrificing me to her?”

You bat your eyelashes prettily, shrugging. “My idea of a cake is a boxed Pillsbury one. I figured you were the closest to an expert we would get. Also—you nearly broke my hand there.”

“I was stressed,” he argues, though there’s a hint of a smile curling his lips. His thumb does another one of those low sweeps that has you pausing in your footsteps. “But that was a little ridiculous, wasn’t it?”

You bark out a laugh, following him down the still unfamiliar streets leading home. “A little? I don’t know where your mother and the wedding planner found her. It’s a cake. It’s literally a cake we’re going to have one bite of before the caterers feed it to the rest of our guests.” A shudder ripples down your spine at that. “Our guests. Weird to think, huh?”

“Less than three weeks,” he muses, the two of you crossing at a streetlight. “Still feeling okay with the whole thing?”

“Okay? That's still to be determined.” He waves to someone in passing. Likely a neighbor, you assume. “Backing out? Absolutely not.”

-

One thing you definitely didn’t consider in this whole…fake marriage plot with Steve, is the concept of bachelor and bachelorette parties. You are obviously well aware of the typical fanfare, have been in numerous weddings as it is, but there are no parameters or guidelines in place for a wedding that has been planned in thirty days in an effort to rush to the altar.

So, you leave that part of the wedding planning up to your friends.

And somehow the end result is a joint party.

What could possibly go wrong?

“Holy shit, Steve.” Robin’s head falls back as she enters your bedroom, mouth dropping open, taking it all in. It’s the size of both your rooms combined back at your old place. “At least you got a nice place out of all this.”

You shrug, dropping down onto your bed. Fingers splay across the sheets, soft and cool beneath. Against your closet rests the white jumpsuit you’ve decided on for your party. A sleeveless number that cinches at the waist and a sweetheart neckline that cups your breasts sumptuously.

Pretty.

But there’s the dawning realization that tonight all the attention will be solely on you and Steve.

So what do you do?

-

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve groans, wincing as his shot goes down.

“Actually, it’s probably one of the best I’ve had,” Eddie exclaims, clapping you both on the back.

The sting of tequila burns in your nose. The flowing sash across your chest that says Mrs. Harrington rumples when your arm reaches over to place the glass back down on the countertop. Robin’s there to adjust it, grinning despite your sour expression.

“Wow, look at you two,” she coos, pulling out her phone to snap a photo. “For your story. They’ll eat it up. Plus, better to get all the cute pictures now, instead of when you’re both drunk later.”

Steve pulls you closer to take a photo, grumbling. “We are not getting drunk.”

-

“Steeeeve.”

You’re drunk.

“Yeah, honey bunny.”

Aaaaand so is he.

“F—” You hiccup. He laughs, leaning bodily into your shoulder. “—uck. I’m gonna kill Eddie.”

Even though Eddie’s only responsible for your first drink. Not the second, or the third, fourth…you’re not sure where you’re at now.

There’s at least an awareness that it’s enough; enough to have the room spinning when you sit down, and Steve beside you like an anchor in a shaky sea.

So when he moves to stand, your fingers curl around his wrist and drag him back down again. “No. Don’t go. We’re…to death do us part.”

“Till,” he corrects, snorting playfully. “You’re gonna see me everyday for…three years.”

“But there’s so many people here. Soooo many. And most of them are your friends,” you whine, clasping your hand in his as he leads you back out further into the people spread out along the private rooftop. “You have soooo many friends. Did you know that?”

He simply laughs, just as Eddie’s voice breaks over the noise all around you. A loud shout of, “The soon to be newlyweds should do the next round of karaoke!”

“Edward Munson, you little s—” Another hiccup. Shit, you think, we’re giggly drunk tonight. “shit. I’m gonna beat your ass like I did when we were kids.”

“It’s like something out of a fuckin’ romcom,” Steve later whines as you’re both pushed onto the stage by a bunch of cheering friends. “And they picked our song already.”

“Oh no, which one?” You slur a bit on your words, one ankle rolling like a baby deer.

Steve grasps your bicep to steady you. “Marry You by Bruno Mars.”

“Nooo,” you moan, hiding your face in his collar bone. Shit, you think, I’m a flirty drunk tonight too. “Think we can escape our own party?”

One glance out to your awaiting guests tells you that’s not at all a possibility. Steve’s there, overly affectionate now that you’ve got a crowd, with a hand on your lower back, pulling you close.

To anyone else, you’re a couple celebrating their nuptials in the next few days.

To you, you know he’s laying it on thick.

Making sure there is absolutely no question as to the validity of your marriage.

Especially with potential co workers around, with those who can easily talk rumors in the halls, who might wonder why the speedy engagement and rush down the aisle in the first place.

“One song,” you shout over the crowd, over Steve’s shoulder.

And then, in a puff of breath against his ear you whisper, “Make it count, hubby.”

-

“It’s a beautiful night. We’re looking for something dumb to do. Heyy babyyyy! I think I wanna marry you!” You sing.

If you can consider it that.

To Eddie it’s screeching or a shrill wail, a high pitched thing that makes everyone around you wince.

There’s interference with the mic that has Eddie’s eyes slamming shut against the sharp pang against his eardrums.

“Think we should stop them?” Robin asks out loud, watching Steve awkwardly bob and sway beside you, never really sure of what to do with his body when it comes to music.

“No,” Eddie chuckles darkly, leaning back on his chair. “Those idiots are involving us in a literal crime, so we’re going to have our fun with it.”

“Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice? Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you,” Steve continues, and it’s clearly not up to your standard, because you grab his arm and wiggle it frantically.

“I am marrying him!” You giggle over the microphone, extending your ring to the crowd. “Can you believe it? Mrs. Harrington.”

“Oh no,” Robin mutters, gripping Nancy’s hand beside her. “She’s giggly now.”

“She’s fucked up. She’s going to kill us in the morning,” Eddie grumbles.

Robin’s eyes widen as Nancy says, “I really feel like you two should stop them. Because Steve just grabbed her and now they’re, uh, making out on the stage—”

Robin jumps to her feet. “Oh fuck.”

-

You wake in the morning to a bunch of tiny needles stabbing your skull. Like someone took a jackhammer to your brain and pushed an on switch.

Brain practically groaning in your head, you lift yourself slowly into a sitting position and moan at the throb that rolls down the nape of your neck and down your spine.

Wincing, you kick your legs over the side of the bed and insert your feet into the slippers on the floor down below, sighing at the immediate comfort.

The penthouse is full of chatter. Voices mill from the kitchen, soft despite the clanging cymbals you’re convinced are in your brain. And there, at the kitchen island, stands none other than your two (ex) best friends and your soon to be husband, cups of coffee held against their temples, shame ebbing from their forms.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Robin coos, turning around to gauge your expression.

You don’t miss the shock of brows curling high on her forehead, nor do you miss the tick in Eddie’s cheek as he fights a smile.

“I must look like shit,” you grumble, sliding into the kitchen between the group, uncaring as your shoulder brushes Steve’s. There’s already an iced coffee for you on the countertop. Steve must have ordered, you assume, fighting the flutter in your chest at the thought. “I feel like shit. Very unsexy shit. People keep talking about my bridal beauty, but I feel very much like a bridal beast right now.”

Robin shakes her head, hand on your shoulder. “No, you look fine, you look—”

“Like you’ve had better nights,” Eddie says nonchalantly, earning a cough from Steve to his left.

“I’m sorry, it seems like your invitation to my wedding was rescinded. So weird,” you say brightly, leaning against Robin’s shoulder, pinching your eyes against the bright kitchen lightning. “You’re no longer my best friend. Maybe you’ll fare better with Steve here.”

Why did Steve get a building with white walls as far as the eye can see? You also decide your first purchase will be curtains to block out the natural light coming through the large windows covering the entirety of your living room exterior.

“Tell me you guys didn’t have fun,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “Unless you don’t remember much of it. But it looked like you were having fun.”

The thing is, you remembered every moment.

Every interaction with your guests, every brush of shoulders from your soon to be husband.

Every fleeting glance.

Every look over the top of your glass.

The way your heart danced in your chest as he led you onto that stage.

How his fingers had curled around your own as you sang that ridiculous karaoke song.

How his lips had felt when he dropped a hand to the small of your back and tugged you flush against his form.

The way his heart thundered against yours where your sternums pressed together.

The warmth of his palm.

The heat of his breath as you breathed one another in.

The fullness of his mouth against yours, gentle brushes at first that soon grew passionate.

Heated.

It had been scalding.

A burn that simmered.

A burn you relished, wanted to fan into flame, wanted to foster in the moment.

Just a silly, stupid, alcohol-fueled moment.

It means nothing.

Nothing.

“I don’t really remember much after we left here,” Steve says.

He stares at you. Eyes locked on your face. Imploring.

Eddie and Robin shift your way, too.

Curiosity brims, and your heart aches.

You open your mouth. “I don’t really remember much either.”

Seven days.

You’ll be a wife in seven days.

Don’t get it twisted now, you remind yourself.

-

-

[katerina-marie]

The Beach Episode (Romantic Sunday)

Sukuna x Reader

You and Satoru are supposed to be filming a short ad on the beach, but your blue-eyed costar has a habit of never showing up on time. What happens when a certain tattooed, pink-haired band member surprises you with a visit? You frolic in the ocean of course!

Notes: A celebrity!au that popped into my head while listening to Romantic Sunday by Car, the Garden and would not leave. While this is a Sukuna x Reader fic, other characters do play minor roles and may have brief POVs. This fic is pending in my head as a chapter in a larger work that chronicles reader's and Sukuna's developing relationship and is inspired by other scenarios that come to be while listening to music, but nothing is concrete. Since that's so, Sukuna and reader's relationship isn't explicitly defined but is certainly past friendship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo (he's picked on, but I love him so please don't take offense), other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, includes an innuendo or two, but other wise PG/PG-13, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy).

P.S. I've used a line from a favorite TV show back in my teen years. Let me know if you recognize it!

——————————————————————————————————

“Well…you did say you wanted to go to the beach, Kento. Look where we are!”

Your teasing tone and amused grin did nothing to budge the frustrated scowl off the face of your manager. If anything, it drove the furrow between his eyebrows that much further, and you swore a vein in his forehead started to throb. 

“A vacation, actually,” Nanami began, sending you a pointed look that said he knew exactly what you were playing at, “in Malaysia…on a beach…by myself.” 

You tutted at him before giving him a dainty smile and settling further into your makeup chair, “I was only trying to make you laugh, Kento.” 

In your opinion, laughing and smiling was something Nanami Kento seldom did but often should. Whether it was a personal standard he held himself to or some other form of ritual torture, your manager stuck to a strict dress code no matter where he went. Case in point, on a beach in the middle of the summer, Nanami was clothed in his usual suit, tie and dutifully styled hair in tow. The only indication that he planned for the environment you all would spend the day in was the thick white stripes of sunscreen pasted on the sharp angle of his nose and over the apples of his cheeks. Whether he intentionally matched the color of his tan suit to the sand under your feet was anyone’s best guess. You hesitated to ask, a mercy for Kento if you did say so yourself, if only because he looked one wrong word away from throwing himself in the ocean, and not in a way that indicated any fun would be had. 

As if privy to your thoughts, he released a drawn out sigh and crossed his legs in his own chair across from you. He took a quick glimpse at the time on his phone and shook his head. 

Poor Kento. He really did deserve that vacation. And honestly, you did appreciate and acknowledge his dedication to his craft—and you, by extension. 

“I’m sorry,” Nanami murmured, an apologetic softening of his eyes making his whole expression smooth out, “my frustrations are not towards you, I assure you. I’m confident you could guess at whom my ire is directed at currently.” 

You snorted. “Well, of course I c—,” 

“That blue-eyed bastard is late again!” 

The flap of your makeup tent was thrown back with enough force that you were surprised it hadn’t ripped clean down its seam. Your overgrown tree of a bodyguard had a habit of “forgetting” the strength and stature that made him so adept at his job and simply enjoyed his ability to throw any object—or person—around as he pleased. 

You scowled at Toji for interrupting you and watched as he stomped over to stand next to you and Nanami with a pout that pulled at the, frankly, appealing scar at the corner of his mouth. Between that, his eyes that looked as if they knew every secret you ever had and shaggy black hair that probably needed a cut, Toji posed both an intimidating and handsome figure. That was besides the point though and not that it mattered much to you. He had a son that was a friend of your friend and only a couple years younger than you. Not that Toji looked it one bit. 

“Satoru hasn’t been heard from, I presume?” 

Toji and Nanami both leveled you with a deadpan look and answered you at the same time with the same disgruntled voice, “no.”

You threw your head back in exasperation and instantly regretted it when you were reminded of the dozens of pins holding your styled hair in place as they all poked you quite viciously in the back of the head. You winced and raised your hand to rub at the sore spot, only to have it slapped away by a member of the hair and makeup team to prevent you from mussing it further. You crossed your arms with a huff and slouched further into your chair. 

“You look like you’re having fun,” Toji remarked, his smirk full of sarcasm and twisted amusement. “I think they missed a spot with your makeup though.” 

You found no humor in the waving of his hand as one of his fingers circled the entirety of your face in the air in front of it, nor were you concerned with the false insinuation that you looked anything other than well put together. Now, the chance of said makeup sliding right off your face as soon as you stepped into the late afternoon sun? Plausible, but best left to the worries of the experts. 

“Toji,” you crooned, voice cloyingly sweet but eyeing him with a sharp glare he was surely well acquainted with, “we’re at the beach. Why don’t you, oh I don’t know, go play in the ocean and swim with the fish? Or, do you want to build a sandcastle?” 

The smug grin he was wearing fell clean off his face and was replaced with an ugly pinch of his nose.

“Hell no, I hate sand! The damned stuff always gets everywhere no matter what I do. In my socks, my sandwich, the crack of my a—,” 

“Enough!” 

Nanami’s exclamation was loud and angry enough that it caused you and Toji both to jump and effectively ended whatever crude tale he was about to subject the crowd in the tent to. 

“I’m going to go call Geto and see where the hell his client is.” 

Nanami stood and brushed any bits of sand from his suit. Not that anyone could tell if there had been any in the first place. 

“You,” he added, pointing in your direction, “will get dressed so that once I finish ripping Gojo’s manager a new one, we can talk with the director of this damned affair and see if we can get any film done with just you while we wait.” 

Without leaving any room for protest or discussion, Nanami was gone with a flutter of a tent flap and you were left making wide eyes at your equally stunned bodyguard. There was silence and stillness for a beat of time before Toji shrugged and movement about the tent resumed again. 

“Well,” he drawled, “that’s my cue to leave. I’m off to go guard some bodies and what not.” His eyebrows danced and his eyes flashed, not in the least deterred by your annoyed stare. 

“We’re on a closed off, private beach, Toji. There’s no one here for you to throw out.” 

He was unbothered and took a few sauntering steps back towards the entrance of the tent. 

“Still, I wouldn’t want you to think I was slacking on the job and quit paying me. Have fun getting dressed, Princess.” 

Toji ignored the baring of your teeth and left just as quickly as Nanami did. You blew out a resigned sigh as you took a peek at the mountain of lace, fabric, and strings that hung from a corner of the tent and decided at that moment that you wished it was Toji being stuffed into a dress and primped within an inch of his life. 

“He’s going to charm his way back into the refreshment tent and pass out,” you grumbled, and oh yes, that was seething jealousy you held for your bodyguard. Someone chuckled behind you, but was quick to prompt you to stand and disrobe. 

Really, it couldn’t be that bad…right? 

——————————————————————————————————

Some suspiciously placed tape, three assistants, and nearly forty five minutes later would prove you to be exceptionally wrong. Lace sleeves had been tugged up against sweaty arms, the strings at the back of your dress that held it together had been pulled and tied so tightly that you were hesitant to move too suddenly for fear of busting it, and the pins in your hair had been removed to let it lay as styled. You were one moment of heat induced lightheadedness away from falling over into the sand, and there would be no getting up after that. There was fabric clinging and swishing against your legs and you thought you had seen a train at the back of the dress, though that made no sense to you at all given what was planned to happen in front of a camera. 

“Please,” you begged to anyone in the room that would listen. “Can I be done now? If I don’t get a breath of fresh air, I’m going to pass out.” 

Your wish was acquiesced, and with the promise to not mess anything up, you made your great escape out of the tent and towards the edge of the ocean before anyone could change their mind. There was no need for any more hair to be pinned, makeup to be touched up, or fabric draped. 

The water that went on endlessly for miles in front of you was a light blue and mostly calm in its movement for the day. Sandy beach on either side of you stretched out until you could just barely see it transition into rocky cliffs that helped form its crescent shape. If one could ignore the highway and paved parking lot a couple minutes walk behind you, it was almost like you were on a secluded island paradise. 

Though the sun was still hot, the fresh air was successful in clearing your mind, and the salted mist of the water was enough to help balm the warmth under your dress. The multiple tents strewn across the sand each served their own niche purpose with people popping in and out of them all day. There was chatter about, people hustling from one side of the camped setup to the other and cameras placed strategically to capture whatever commercial or short that you and Satoru were supposed to film.  However, no one paid you much mind at the moment, and you sidled up to where the water met the sand, dress held above your ankles so the waves could tickle your feet. 

“Don’t you look pretty.” 

Elated surprise made your heart leap at the sound of a familiar voice, and you whipped around with excitement written all over your face to meet the eyes of the handsome man behind you. 

“Sukuna! What are you doing here?” 

The man in question grinned, his expression half mischievous and maybe the slightest bit bashful, though no one would dare point it out. His pink hair was pushed back into its normal style, but due to the humidity, random pieces drooped down his forehead and into his eyes slightly. His tattoos were on full display in the tank top and swim trunks he was wearing. Every bit of him was a sight for your sore eyes. Sukuna opened his arms for you and it took only a moment of hesitancy before you stepped into them for a quick hug. 

“Yuji and Choso wanted to go for a drive since the day was nice, and naturally Fushiguro tagged along. Coincidentally though, Yuji had us drive along the highway behind the setup you all got going on and ‘poof,’ here we are.”  

You pulled back from Sukuna as he finished his sentence and gave him a small, happy wiggle of your shoulders. You made a note to remember how you felt his fingers dancing down languidly over the lace covering your arm and swirling gently around the edge of the sleeve that came to a point on the back of your hand before letting his arm fall back against his side. 

“Well, I’m glad the four of you made it, coincidence or not,” you quipped at him. Your eyes still hadn’t left his and you knew it was going to be a struggle to wipe what had to be a lovestruck grin off your lips. 

“You sure about that?” 

Sukuna laughed and threw a hand back over his shoulder, gesturing towards what your eyes followed and found to be the refreshment tent. What you saw had you doubling over in laughter, or at least as far as you could in your dress. 

Yuji and Choso, Sukuna’s brothers and bandmates, were struggling to stifle giggles as they hovered over a hulking figure laid out in a chaise underneath a misting fan. As you predicted, Toji was dead asleep, mouth agape and a half eaten cheeseburger dangling from a hand resting on his chest. What really set the whole thing apart was the way Yuji and Choso were surreptitiously trying to see how many french fries they could place in Toji’s mouth before he either woke up or started to choke when one inevitably fell back down his throat. In the corner, Megumi stood watching with barely concealed glee and a phone in his hand capturing the whole ordeal. You assumed that no matter what way this went, Megumi was bound to come out of it on top with either the joy of having comedic blackmail to hold over his father’s head or the pleasure of getting to watch him beat his friend’s asses. In the best case scenario, it was both. 

You recovered from your laughter with a shake of your head and a measly deep breath before turning back to Sukuna. It was sucked right back out of you when you found his eyes trailing up from the tips of your toes, lingering at where the dress cinched your waist and then at the lace scalloping your chest before finally coming up to meet your eyes. His gaze was half lidded and heavier than usual, and it set your cheeks aflame in a way that you could never pass off as from the sun. He smirked when you stuttered over some inarticulate noise that had escaped your mouth, and you were about to take a giant step back to compose yourself when his face eventually softened. Sukuna offered you a quick wink, not so devious and more contrite than anything else, though it didn’t seem to affect your racing pulse any less, and then continued his tirade as he hooked his pinky finger around a lock of hair framing your eyes. 

Somewhere in the back of your head choirs were singing and clouds were parting, but all you could think about was the hint of black polish on his nails that you spotted out of your peripheral and the growing number of people you could see beginning to take interest in the way Sukuna towered over you and how you didn’t seem to mind. You finally made space between the two of you by pressing your knuckles against his chest with just enough pressure to send the message. He obeyed and returned the small smile you sent his way to soften the gesture. 

“So,” he started, his hands set deep in his pockets and a rock to his heels that would make anyone else look nervous, “what are you all waiting around for?”  

Thankful for conversation to focus on, you threw your hands up to convey that you were just as confused as he was and followed it up with what you made to sound like the most logical and obvious explanation in the world;

“Sa-to-ru is late. Again.” 

At the first enunciated syllable of Satoru’s name to leave your mouth, a corner of Sukuna’s nose quivered in disdain and he rolled his eyes in a way that was clearly disparaging, yet you found weakened your knees. 

“Tell me about it. He most likely forgot or got caught up w—,” 

The most ungracious snort left Sukuna’s nose, and you were so taken aback by the fact that it happened, and let alone found it attractive, that you missed whatever he had hissed under his breath. 

“Tied up is probably more like it.” 

“What was that?” 

“Oh, nothing. Nothing important.” 

His voice was too intentionally innocent and his face suspiciously cleared of any ill will for you to believe an ounce of what he said, but there was no chance in getting Sukuna to admit anything he didn’t want to, and you were more preoccupied with getting that look from earlier back in his eyes. So with that, you meandered back a few steps into the water and waited. 

“So, tell me, what brilliant songwriting have you been up to, oh esteemed ‘King of Curses’, or is that strictly confidential, band member-only info?” 

You knew asking Sukuna, or even Yuji or Choso, about their wildly popular band ‘The Curses’ was a sure fire way to get them talking about their shared passion, and it always brought a smile to your face to see them so excited. You expected the same now, but were caught off guard when Sukuna stumbled over the step he took to follow you and the brief way his face shuttered blank before he recovered. That act alone would have been enough to put an end to your flirty intentions—because you just knew that nickname of his got him riled up whenever it came out of your mouth—but the sensation of fabric being pulled tight against the back of your legs had you stopped. A quick glance down into the water confirmed that he had stepped on your dress and the extra fabric was beginning to swirl around his calves. 

So that’s what the train was for! A devious, delicious idea began to form in your head and you knew you had only one chance to make it happen. 

You glanced up at Sukuna through your eyelashes (he struggled to recall in that moment if they had always been that long or if it was the makeup making his mind fuzzy) and cocked your head gently to one side before beginning a slow prowl around him.

“What, no love songs or epic tales of star crossed romance have emerged from that practice studio of yours lately? Don’t tell me a cat has got your tongue?” 

Ever focused on the way your lips curled into a sultry smile and the feather-light drag of your finger along the top of his shorts at his hip, Sukuna was unusually quiet as he followed you with his eyes. You began to pass behind his back and your circle was nearly halfway complete. 

“Su-ku-na,” you called when you received no answer, watching as he gave a shake of his head as if to clear a haze from it. 

“Quit being a brat and distracting me!”  

There was no malice in his tone, but you could tell that he was being truthful. You had completed your circle and came to stand in front of him once again. 

“I’m just waiting for you to answer my question,” you sing-songed. 

Sukuna’s mouth stuttered open for a second and nothing came out before he finally seemed to collect himself, “No! No love songs, no sappy lyrics, and no star crossed romance. Who do you take me for?” 

Your peals of laughter that followed his blurted response floated about the beach and seemed to soothe whatever had come over him in the last couple of minutes. In a haste, you cast a glance down at his legs to check that everything was in place. 

“I’m just playing with you, Sukuna,” you cooed at him, “there’s no need to get defensive.” 

His eyes narrowed and you watched with glee as he pulled himself up to his full height, leaned down into your face, and let a haughty smirk tug the corners of his mouth. 

“You don’t want to play with me, Sweetheart. I. Play. Rough.” 

“Hmm, you think so?” 

You let a delicate, breathy sigh brush up against his mouth from yours while you arched your back slightly to press your chest against his. Sensing you had Sukuna’s full attention, you smoothed your leg between his to let the side of your foot trace oh so gently over the bone in his ankle. His breath hitched, and in the same moment you tipped your head back to close a fraction of distance between your lips, you also tightened your fingers in the furls of your dress. 

“Really,” you whispered, “somehow I think that I play rougher.” 

Yank. 

Since he was already off balance when you ripped the fabric of your dress out and around from under his feet, it only took a quick sweep of your foot against Sukuna’s leg to keep the momentum going and to dump him and his gobsmacked expression into the knee-deep water of the ocean. You jumped back to avoid as much of the splash as you could, and in the same heartbeat, you lifted your dress and took off in the direction of the tents set back on the shore. Your plan was a success.

There were two oversights on your part, however, that became all too clear in the couple seconds after this monumental event took place. 

One, the amount of water your dress accumulated and how much it now slowed you down due to its weight and tangle in your legs. 

Two, which you really should have anticipated if you thought back on it, was the unbelievable amount of speed and agility with which Sukuna pushed himself out of the water, set a borderline maniacal look upon you that promised glorious retribution (you would have to question yourself later as to why this sent shivers down your back and warmth to places you would rather not think about), and thus began an inhumanly quick sprint towards you. 

So, naturally, you did what any independent, perfectly capable woman would do; you screamed at the top of your lungs bloody murder for your bodyguard and high tailed it out of the ocean. 

——————————————————————————————————

The first thing Toji wondered upon being awoken by the screams of a dying woman was why his mouth was full of french fries. He sputtered on the cold and soggy pieces in his mouth as he leapt from the chaise he had barely remembered falling asleep on and frantically looked out towards the water to see what fate he had let come upon you. Toji was certain there were only two possibilities. 

One: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now being eaten by a shark.

Two: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now drowning in the ocean. 

To his sleep addled brain, which was currently working through the onslaught of you shrieking his name, either option had an equally probable likelihood of occurring. The outcome, however? In both scenarios, there was only one logical conclusion. He was getting fired. 

With that thought in mind, he started the process of becoming your own personal search and rescue. All in a flurry of forward movement, he kicked off his shoes, dropped the crumpled half eaten cheeseburger from his grasp, and flailed his hand around in his pocket to locate his wallet. He was not about to let his most important possession be lost to the tides—especially with the encroaching threat of unemployment looming over his head—and was about to seriously consider dropping his shorts to the ground altogether when he heard your screams reach a sudden pitch and then descend into hysterical laughter. 

Toji took that as a sign to further scope out the situation in front of him and after rubbing sleep and sand from his eyes, he could now better understand that you weren’t actually in mortal danger. You were just flirting. 

With the adrenaline that was previously coursing through his body now taking a sudden nosedive, Toji staggered back into the tent to plop onto his previously occupied chaise. While he was obviously relieved to see you weren’t dying, he was even more glad that he wasn’t going to have to call Shiu tomorrow and admit that his asset was dead and he was in need of a new job. Surely offers would be next to none, and he didn’t think he could handle guarding any more feisty starlets or listen to them vent about their secret love affairs with pink-haired band members…at least not without the blood pressure medication his doctor had threatened him with at his last check-up.

At the sound of muffled laughter to his left, Toji swung his gaze over to his son, a grin on Megumi’s face and phone in hand, and his son’s two idiot friends, both of whom were having to help hold the other up. 

“Not you three now too,” he grumbled, standing up from his chaise and making his way over to where they stood. “What’s got you idiots making so much n—,”

Toji came to a sudden halt as Megumi’s hand lifted up to shove his cell phone in his face. His eyes squinted at the screen, the laughter from Yuji and Choso increasing in volume, and he needed only a second to process the video he was watching before snapping his head towards the two brothers. 

“You bastards!”

Megumi watched as his father and two friends stared wide eyed at each other for a couple of seconds before they all took off running out of the tent and beyond. The thought of catching the pummeling that was coming the brother’s way once his father caught them was plenty enticing, but years of living with Toji Fushiguro taught him that he too was to be considered guilty as an accomplice, and thus making himself scarce was the wiser decision. Besides, there were plenty of cameras already rolling anyway. 

——————————————————————————————————

You had taken only a couple of steps onto dry land before a set of well muscled arms locked around your midsection, lifted you clear off your feet, and jerked you back against a solid chest. Sukuna’s breathing was loud and heavy in your ear and you could feel water leaching through the back of your dress from where he pressed forward against you with the entirety of his body. 

“That was naughty,” he taunted, and the low scratch of his voice made your feigned attempt to wrestle out of his hold falter. 

Before you could say anything in response, in an impressive feat of strength, Sukuna once more swept you off your feet and planted you stomach down over his shoulder. He turned and began to wade back into the water, and it wasn’t until your view from beside his hips started to be filled entirely by water that you struggled—in earnest this time. 

“Sukuna!” You gasped, trying to come up with some kind of plea that would keep you from your fate of being dropped into the ocean. “Suk-Sukuna, I can’t swim, I can’t swim!”

This wasn’t true in the slightest, but you hoped his concern for your safety would outweigh his need for vengeance. Just as the ends of your hair became engulfed by water, Sukuna dragged you back up from over his shoulder and slid you down his front until he could grasp at your thighs and pull them open around his hips. You threw your arms around his neck and prayed that the pleading look in your eyes would work.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” was all the warning Sukuna gave before cocking an eyebrow at you and promptly falling flat backwards into the ocean with you secured against his chest. The two of you crashed into the water just in time for a wave to surge over you both. It was a cold shock to your system, but you had no more than a hiccup to process the feeling before Sukuna was up on his feet and trudging back to shore with you in his arms. You sputtered the whole way back and pawed at your face to pry a curtain of soaking wet hair from your eyes. 

It was at the line where ocean became more sand than water that Sukuna stumbled, presumably from wet fabric caught in his legs again, and rotated mid-fall just quickly enough to save you from being squashed under him. 

It took a minute for your combined unabashed laughter to subside, and when you finally caught your breath from where your head rested against the curve of his shoulder, you flew upwards. You swatted Sukuna’s chest when the glimpse of sparkling eyes and a full smile snagged your attention, and you hoped that the swaths of fabric pooling around the two of you was enough to disguise how you straddled his hips and that his fingers were tracing absentminded figures at their place right on the small of your back. Unable to control the flush of heat through your limbs, you exclaimed the first thing that popped into your head and then immediately regretted it. 

“Sukuna, I’m completely soaked!” 

The quickness of the wicked grin that spread across his face astounded you, and when you noticed his lips begin to part, to no doubt retort something highly inappropriate for the given situation, you slapped a hand over his mouth. His smile was still present under your palm, his eyes soft and adoring, and you swore you felt him place a small kiss at the meat of your thumb. 

“AND CUT!” 

The director’s shout was enough to shatter the intimate quiet that had gone unnoticed by you two, and the both of you lurched just far enough apart to separate your bodies but remain near enough for the bump of a knee or shoulder. Before you could even gather your bearings enough to understand what was going on, a tall shadow appeared over you, and you leaned your head back to squint up at whoever it was. 

“That was certainly entertaining.” 

You recognized the voice of Satoru’s manager just as he held out a hand to help you to your feet, and you shot him a look of dismay once you steadied yourself. 

“It’s nice of you and your client to finally grace us with your presence, Geto,” you replied dryly. 

Geto shrugged, not a single care evident on that pretty face of his, and brought your attention to the crowd gathered behind him with a flourish of his hand. You took a tentative glance at what he was referring to and nearly cringed when you caught sight of the numerous cameras pointed at you and Sukuna. Not to mention Nanami, who stood next to the director with a hand pressed up against his temple like he was in great pain. Though from the small smile you could just barely make out and the animated chatter from the director into Nanami’s ear, you assumed that what had just transpired wasn’t such a bad thing. Even Toji, who was a couple feet behind them with Yuji and Choso in head locks under each of his arms, looked like he had gotten quite the chuckle out of the whole thing.

“It seems like the film was still able to get captured well enough without us,” Geto remarked. “I don’t believe there’s any reason to re-do anything with Satoru just for the sake of appearances.” 

You were about to open your mouth to make known your agreement to the idea when Sukuna suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and popped back at Geto with a brusque “hell no.” You weren’t sure if you felt offended or disappointed by his objection, but before you could start to fret over it, Sukuna was stroking his thumb gently across the back of your neck, and you proceeded to melt into his side. Perhaps his initial disagreement had less to do with his reluctance to be seen as part of the project and instead had everything to do with him making sure you had the full ability to determine how much of him at your side you were ready to share with the world. The thought had you giddy. 

“I have zero objections to using the film with Sukuna.” 

There was a jubilant cheer from all the staff once they heard your words, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from the satisfied look on Sukuna’s face that followed them. 

“Ah, question,” he called out suddenly, making pointed eye contact with the director, and even Nanami too. “By agreeing to this, that means she doesn’t have to frolic around here with the white-hair idiot, right?” 

Over the immediate roar of laughter from everyone around, an indignant “hey!” could be heard from the nearby makeup tent, and for just once, you were grateful for Satoru’s inability to ever be on time.

——————————————————————————————————

Part 2

Notes: If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you didn't catch it, the line "Somehow I think that I [you] play rougher" is taken from a scene in the Vampire Diaries (I was obsessed). Did I also get inspiration from that scene in the horse movie Spirit for Sukuna and Reader's moment in the water? Yes, yes I did.

Also, in my decade and a half of reading fan fiction, I have not once written or posted any of my own. So if I miss something important, please kindly let me know.

Always feel free to share comments, thoughts, or questions <3

[ironboyxs]

Unseen Hearts

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Felix x Male Reader

Word Count: 4652

Summary: Y/N is a young actor and singer on the rise who has great admiration for Stray Kids, especially a certain member with a huskier voice.

p.s. this is the first time I write about kpop on this blog, I hope you like it! In fact, I was extremely inspired because I've never written so much! and another thing: I mention a Korean ideogram in the story, I tried to do my research but my Korean is terrible, forgive any mistakes. and always remembering REQUESTS ARE OPEN, in the pinned there are the fandons for which I write

You never thought you would be in a serious relationship with a K-pop artist. Of course, you've been a fan of Korean culture since you were 13 and a friend introduced you to the concept of K-pop, dramas and all the rest.

You were lucky enough to have well-off parents who let you study Korean from the age of 13 because you had become completely obsessed with everything about Korea.

But obviously your life didn't revolve around just that, of course you went to shows whenever you could, once you even got a trip to South Korea as a gift to go to a fan meeting.

But one thing that the idol life showed you was that you also wanted to be an artist, you were in doubt between acting and music. After all, you were good at both. In school plays you always got the lead.

Your mother played the piano and from a very early age taught you everything she knew about music, so one of your hobbies, and also a form of therapy, was writing songs.

When you were 18, a family friend who worked for Netflix knew he had a casting call that was a perfect fit for you. You took the test, with zero faith that you would pass.

But it ended up happening, the series was about a fantasy world, four wizard friends fighting an evil entity, you had a lot of fun recording the first season, you made incredible friends, but you never thought the series would be successful.

Until it exploded. And it became the number 1 series on Netflix, with everyone talking about it. And obviously you and your co-stars started doing press tours.

Jimmy Fallon Show

- Hey guys! Welcome back to the Tonight Show! Today we have a very special guest, a talented young man who is having great success with the new Netflix series: Witchbound Chronicles. Let's welcome the amazing Y/N! How are you, Y/N?

- Hi Jimmy! I'm great, thanks for having me here.

- It's a pleasure to have you. Firstly, congratulations on the success of your series! What has the experience been like seeing your face everywhere?

- It's surreal, Jimmy. I never imagined things would happen so quickly. I'm just enjoying every moment.

- This is amazing! Tell us a little about the series. What can fans expect?

- Well, the series is called "Witchbound Chronicles" and it takes place in a completely new world full of magic, fantastic creatures and lots of exciting twists. I play one of the main characters, a young man named Ethan, who discovers he has incredible magical abilities.

- This looks amazing! And what was the audition process like to get the role?

- It was a little crazy, actually. I auditioned without much expectation, and when I got the call that I had gotten the role, I couldn't believe it. It was a dream come true.

- And what was it like working with the cast and crew?

- Everyone was incredible. The cast is very talented, and the team behind the cameras did an incredible job bringing this magical world to life. I learned a lot from all of them.

- I'm sure fans would love to know if there are any funny or interesting behind-the-scenes stories you can share.

- Oh, definitely! One day, we were filming a scene with intense special effects, and one of the animatronics that plays the magical creatures ended up going out of control. It was hilarious to see everyone running for cover, but in the end, everything worked out, and the scene was incredible.

- And what can we expect from the future, Y/N? More projects on the small screen or maybe even the big screen?

- Absolutely, Jimmy! I love acting, and I hope to continue exploring different roles and challenges. Who knows what the future holds, right?

- Hey Y/N, our research team made some interesting discoveries on your social media. It seems like you're a big K-pop fan, is that right?

- Oh yes, Jimmy! I'm completely obsessed with K-pop, it's one of my passions.

- This is amazing! Any specific groups or artists that you really admire?

- For sure! I'm a big fan of Stray Kids.

- Oh, and our team also noticed that you have a certain “bias” as they say in K-pop at Felix! You've been expressing your crush on Felix a lot on social media. Any funny stories or embarrassing moments related to this?

- Well, now that you mention that this is public I would say that all my posts about Felix are kind of funny and embarrassing, actually. I try to keep it light and humorous, but of course, my friends always tease me a little about it.

- That is great! And if Felix or any of the Stray Kids were watching right now, what would you say to them?

- Wow, that's a tough question. I guess I would say how much they mean to me as an artist and as a person. Their work really inspires me, and I really admire their talent.

- I hope Felix sees this and who knows, maybe you can meet one day!

Some time later, on a live that Felix was doing, a fan asked if he had seen this interview.

Chat: Felix, did you see Jimmy Fallon's interview with Y/N, the actor from the series "Witchbound Chronicles"?

- Oh yeah! I saw! It was amazing. I couldn't stop smiling throughout the entire interview.

Chat: Y/N mentioned that he's a big fan of Stray Kids and that he has a crush on you. What was your reaction when you watched this?

- Oh, really? This is so cool! I was very flattered to learn that he is a Stray Kids fan. I think it's an honor when talented people like our work.

Chat: Would you have a message to send to Y/N?

For sure! Y/N, if you're watching, thank you so much for your support! It's amazing to know that you enjoy our work, and who knows, maybe one day we can meet. Keep being amazing!

Chat: It would be great to see a collaboration between Stray Kids and the series' soundtrack, wouldn't it?

- Absolutely! We would love it! Who knows what the future holds for us, right? Let's hope something like this happens.

Meanwhile at your house

- Y/N did you watch Felix's last live? - Your sister came running to ask you.

- No, I saw the notification but I was busy so I couldn't watch it.

- You NEED to see this excerpt!

Your sister takes the phone to you with a cut from the live stream where Felix Yongbok Lee is simply talking about you, and of course you completely freak out!

- MY GOD! FELIX KNOWS I EXIST!

- Imagine if you could meet him in person?

You stop and reflect for a second

- What is it? - Your sister asks.

- My Twitter account simply has 1001 posts about how handsome and hot I think he is! I need to deprive that now!

- Wow, but it's great that he knows you have a crush on him!

- He already knows because of that stupid interview, I don't need to be embarrassed anymore! - You run out to get your cell phone.

A while later on a gossip page

“Recently Y/N S/N deprived his Twitter account and opened a new one saying that it would be his professional account. Does the young actor have something to hide?”

/-/

Months later, with the end of recording the first season of the series, and the end of the press conferences, you feel that it is time to return to music. You had loved that whole period of recording and promoting the series but you felt the urge to write about it all, to put it all in the form of music, and deep in your heart, you wanted to write about something, something that you thought was really silly. actually, but your mother always told you that music was made to express all your feelings.

Unseen Hearts

🎶 Unseen hearts, a world apart,

In the shadows, you're the spark.

A crush so sweet, yet out of reach,

Dreams we chase, lessons we teach. 🎶

- This song is AMAZING! - A music producer friend of your mother said when he heard it.

- Did you really think so? I think it's no big deal.

- Is beautiful! What was the inspiration?

- Ah, silly thing, you know... stupid youthful passion - You said with a bit of shame.

- Y/N, I know you've been wanting to combine acting and music for so long, Bobby can give you that opportunity. – Your mother said

- You have so much potential Y/N. - Said Bobby, the producer and owner of the record company you were now part of.

- Now, ideas for a music video?

The Unseen Hearts video was a success, number 1 in views on YouTube. The clip takes place in a magical setting, reminiscent of the world of the series that you are part of. Include enchanted forests, ancient ruins and mystical locations, having a sense of magic and mystery. The story of the music video centers on you, showing your magical journey in search of your unreachable crush. Throughout the clip you searche for a masked figure who wears a necklace with the Korean character:  리

Comments on Twitter

🌟 Just watched the "Unseen Hearts" music video by @Y/NActorOfficial and I'm absolutely enchanted! The magical symbolism and emotional depth in every scene got me hooked. Matt's talent is truly spellbinding! 🔮💖 #UnseenHearts #Y/NMagic

✨ The "Unseen Hearts" music video is a masterpiece! 🎬✨ Y/N's portrayal of an unattainable crush, wrapped in magical elements, is pure art. The visuals, the symbolism – everything is on point! 🌌🎶 #WitchboundChronicles #MagicalMusic

🌌 Theory time! What if the "Unseen Hearts" video is a metaphor for the struggles we face in expressing our feelings? The crush, shrouded in magic, symbolizes the elusive nature of emotions. Y/N's journey represents the pursuit of self-discovery. 🧐💭 #UnseenHeartsTheory

📜 Lyric interpretation theory: What if the lyrics in "Unseen Hearts" reflect Y/N's emotions towards Felix? The masked figure embodies the lyrical expression of an unspoken crush, with the ideogram pendant serving as a musical symbol of admiration. 🎤💔 #LyricConnection #UnseenHeartsEmotion

🎵 Melodic connection theory: The musical journey in "Unseen Hearts" might represent Y/N's emotional connection to Felix. The masked figure, with Felix's ideogram, is the elusive muse driving the rhythm of Y/N's heart. 🎭💖 #MusicalMuse #UnseenHeartsMelody

//

The Kelly Clarkson Show

- Hey guys! We're here with the talented Y/N, who recently released the amazing music video "Unseen Hearts." Y/N, first, I want to say that the music video is amazing, but everyone is wondering: what is the meaning behind it?

- Hi Kelly! First of all, thank you for the compliment. You know, "Unseen Hearts" is a magical journey, an exploration of emotions and personal challenges. I wanted to convey the idea of pursuing something that seems unattainable, but at the same time, it is an experience of self-discovery.

- Oh, this is fascinating! And many fans are curious about the character that appears in the clip. Can you tell us more about this?

- Of course, Kelly. The ideogram is an artistic representation, a kind of personal symbol. It's a way to add a layer of mystery to the story, allowing each person to find their own meaning in the song and video.

- I get it, I love this enigmatic approach! And what would you say to fans speculating about the music video?

- Well, it's amazing to see the enthusiasm of the fans and the different interpretations they are creating. The beauty of art is in its subjectivity, right? I love seeing the theories and stories that people are coming up with. It's a gift to see how music resonates in unique ways for everyone.

//

Live from Felix a few days later

Chat: Hi, Felix! Did you see Y/N's new video, "Unseen Hearts"? What did you think?

- Oh, sure! I watched it, and I have to say Y/N did an amazing job. The magical atmosphere, the emotional narrative, everything was very well done. I really liked.

Chat: And the music? Do you think it has some connection with you? After all, the character with your name appears in the clip!

- Well, it's interesting, right? I think art is interpretive, and each person can have their own vision. If music is an artistic expression, it's hard to say exactly what it means to Y/N. But I loved seeing how fans are creating their own theories and stories around it.

Chat: We are really curious! Do you think Y/N might have been inspired by you for the song?

- You know, Y/N is an incredible artist, and I'm just one of the many artists who can inspire him. I think the beauty of music is its ability to connect with different experiences and emotions. If Y/N found inspiration in something we experienced, it's an honor.

Chat: Hey Felix, we know Y/N mentioned he's a Stray Kids fan. Do you think he could have a crush on you?

- Oh, really? That's kind of funny to think about. I think it's always flattering to know that people admire our work, whether as artists or as people. And well, I don't really know about that. I'm grateful for the fans' support and affection, but personal relationships are something private, right? Let's focus on the music and Y/N's work, which is incredible.

Chat: We're just kidding, Felix! But seriously, what was it like for you to see your character in his video?

It was a pleasant surprise, for sure! Y/N is a talented artist, and it was cool to see that special touch in the video. I think he did a wonderful job of creating something unique and meaningful.

//

A few weeks later you are invited to perform at the Billboard Music Awards, it would be your first time performing Unseen Hearts in front of such a large audience, you were nervous obviously, but something made you even more nervous.

- Y/N you have no idea what I discovered! - Bobby, who was now your manager, called you excitedly.

- What was it?

- So I was organizing your participation in this year's BMAs, and you know who will be there, STRAY KIDS! They will also participate

You froze, you had followed the news, given interviews, seen Felix's live and knew that everyone already knew the obvious, you had burst out writing a song about the crush you had on a boy you saw once at a fan meeting.

- Y/N… are you there? - Bobby asked from the other side.

- I'm sorry, I just got a little distracted.

- I thought you would be more excited.

- Yes, I'm excited, of course, it's going to be really cool - You said a little disconcerted.

- Now are you ready for the big news?

- My God, is there more?

- It has! So the organization was talking to me, and they asked me if you would be willing to sit at the same table as them, you know, you speak Korean, so you can help the members who don't speak it to fit in.

- BOBBY WHAT DID YOU ANSWER?

- I confirmed your place with them of course, I thought you would love it!

- ARE YOU TELLING ME I'M GOING TO COME FACE TO FACE WITH THE GUY I WROTE A SONG ABOUT?????

- Wait, was the song really about Felix?

- My God Bobby, I thought you were my manager and paid attention to the nuances.

You wanted to pass out obviously.

//

Billboard Music Awards Day - Red carpet.

- Hi Matt! We are excited to see your performance today. What can we expect from this presentation?

- Hello! I'm looking forward to the night, it's going to be amazing. The performance will be full of energy, with a touch of magic and emotion. I hope everyone enjoys it!

- Good luck! Now, we've heard rumors that you and Stray Kids have a special connection. Any future collaborations on the horizon?

- Well, I'm a big fan of Stray Kids, they're so talented. Who knows what the future holds? I'm always open to surprising collaborations. - You say with a bright smile

- Hmm, intriguing! And regarding the "Unseen Hearts" video, many fans speculate about the inspiration behind it. Any subliminal messages?

- Ah, "Unseen Hearts" is an emotional journey, an exploration of personal feelings and challenges. Fan interpretations are fascinating, and I like to leave the song open to different meanings.

- What about the ideograms? We saw Felix from Stray Kids in the video. Any special meaning? - The interviewer asks with an insinuating smile

- Ideograms are like artistic elements, each one can find its own meaning. Sometimes it's just a way to add a special touch to the visual narrative. - You say, wanting to curse yourself for when you had the brilliant idea of putting one of the ideograms of Felix's name in the music video

Interview with Stray Kids

- And we're here with Stray Kids! You guys are killing it as always. We're curious to know, are there any secret collaborations you have in mind? Maybe something with our dear Y/N, who is also here today?

- Well, you know, we are always open to new musical experiences. Y/N is an amazing artist, so who knows what could happen in the future? - Felix responds.

- Interesting! And speaking of collaborations, we saw Felix's character in Y/N's "Unseen Hearts" video. Any idea what this could mean?

- It seems like Y/N wanted to add a special touch to the video. I don't know if there's a deeper meaning, but it's an honor to be included in his art in some way. - Felix says smiling

- What if we talk about the music itself? Any thoughts on "Unseen Hearts"? - The interviewer says wanting to provoke.

- Of course, we all watched the clip and were impressed. The song has a unique vibe, and Y/N's performance is engaging. It's great to see artists exploring different styles. - Bang Chan responds

- It seems like there are a lot of secrets being kept! Speaking of secrets, do you have any future projects that you haven't revealed yet?

- Well, we never reveal all our secrets, do we? You can expect more surprises in the future. - Hyunjin responds, ending the interview.

//

Later, after the red carpet, you have to face reality and go to your seat next to the members of Stray Kids. You're dying of embarrassment, not only because you meet artists you admire so much, but because you know what the topic of the moment is.

You greet everyone in Korean, trying to be as polite as possible, they are all incredibly kind to you.

When it's time to sit down, it's as if fate hates you, and of course your seat was next to Felix.

- I really enjoyed your series on Netflix. - Felix said trying to start a conversation.

- Serious? Didn't you find it a little too fanciful?

- It's too fanciful, but I like things like that, it's really cool.

- Thank you very much - You said blushing.

He looked incredibly handsome that night, you were trying very hard not to stare.

- I really liked Unseen Hearts too, it's a beautiful song.

- Oh thank you, but it doesn't even compare to your work, I'm still quite an amateur. - You always had this habit of diminishing yourself.

- Hey don't say that, your work is incredible. - He takes a strand of your hair and puts it back. - Your eyes are very E/C

He immediately takes his hand out of your hair and apologizes. There was a slight awkward atmosphere but the touch of his fingers in your hair were still there. “You’re not living a fanfic, focus on reality”, you forced yourself to think.

You didn't want to do it but you had to, you didn't want them to keep bothering the boy because of the damn ideogram in the clip.

- Look at the clip, and the ideogram, I'm sorry they keep disturbing you with this, I saw some of your lives and how embarrassed you were.

- Hey no, I thought it was really cool! Was it really a reference for me?

You look down, well, there was no point in lying anymore, right? At least you would leave with the knowledge that your idol would never see you as anything more

- Yes, it was, but you know we all have crushes on famous people, don't worry, it doesn't mean anything big.

- What a shame - He said looking down

What? - You were shocked.

- I wouldn't mind, you know, if it was a genuine crush.

You didn't have time to respond because Bobby came to call you to say that you needed to get ready for your presentation. You ran away with your heart racing, what did that mean, what did Felix mean?

//

- Ladies and gentlemen, singing Unseen Hearts Y/N S/N

On the Billboard Music Awards stage, the "Unseen Hearts" moment begins with you positioned center stage, radiating a magnetic presence. The mesmerizing melody fills the room, creating a magical atmosphere that captures everyone's attention.

The scenery is full of fantastic elements, as you immerse yourself in the performance, conveying the emotion of the music through each note. The audience, enveloped by the magic of the presentation, watches attentively.

During the performance, the camera occasionally cuts to the audience, where Felix from Stray Kids is sitting. His eyes meet at various moments, creating a visual connection that transcends the stage. You, while singing, exchange intense glances with Felix in the audience, conveying deep emotions and a unique harmony.

The exchange of glances is loaded with meaning, as if you were sharing your story not only with the audience, but also with Felix. Every facial expression reflects the intensity of the song, as your eyes meet Felix's, conveying a silent, emotional narrative.

At the end of the performance, the audience bursts into applause, recognizing the beauty and emotion of the performance. You, as you come down from the stage, exchange a final look with Felix, a moment that remains suspended in the air before being lost in the effervescence of the applause.

On twitter

🌟 The exchange of looks between Y/N and Felix during "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs was simply magical! This emotional connection transcended the stage. ✨🎶 #UnseenHeartsMagic

😍 I can't get over the intensity of the looks between Y/N and Felix during the performance! Their chemistry is palpable, and "Unseen Hearts" became even more special. 🔥💖 #BBMAs # Y/N xFelixMoment

🧙‍♂️ I'm absolutely delighted with the performance of "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs. The looks between Y/N and Felix added an extra layer of magic to the performance! 🌈🔮 #EnchantedConnection

🎭 "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs was an emotional journey! The looks between Y/N and Felix brought a unique depth to the presentation. A masterpiece of connection and magic. 🌌🎶 #MysticalPerformance

🤩 The performance of "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs was a visual and emotional spectacle! Y/N and Felix exchanging looks made everything even more captivating. 😊💫 #KPopMagicMoment

😭 I cried at the beauty of the performance of "Unseen Hearts". The intensity of the looks between Y/N and Felix is heartbreaking. A unique emotional experience. 💔🌟 #BBMAs #EmotionalJourney

🎶 The chemistry between Y/N and Felix during "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs is something that cannot be described in words. A perfect fusion of music, emotion and connection. Angry! 👏🌈 #MusicalAlchemy

🌀 "Unseen Hearts" at #BBMAs left my soul vibrating. The looks between Y/N and Felix transcended the stage, creating a unique and magical experience. 🔮✨ #MysticVibes #UnseenHeartsVibes

//

You couldn't believe what had just happened, you had performed Unseen Hearts in front of hundreds of people but it was as if you could only see Felix, you were completely embarrassed by it. How could you be so unprofessional to stare at the boy like that? What would they say about you? What would they say about him?

A knock on the dressing room door makes you stand up. It was the boys from Stray Kids and you quickly rushed to open it.

- Y/N, man, you just killed it on stage! It was amazing! - Bang Chan says hugging you.

You're grateful for the compliment, but a wave of self-consciousness hits you. Did they notice your distraction? Did they notice the prolonged glances in Felix's direction?

- Oh, thanks, Chan! I'm glad you liked it. - You say smiling, trying to hide it.

- Did you see the audience? Everyone was mesmerized. It looks like you worked some real magic up there! - Jeongin says.

Everyone laughs, and you join in the laughter, trying to keep your self-critical thoughts away.

- Y/N, that performance was incredible. You brought such a unique energy to the song. - Felix says with a shy smile.

- And I think our friend here needs to speak to you in private. - Changbin says leading the others to leave the room.

Okay, you thought: now he's going to say that what I did was horrible, that it could cause gossip and horrible repercussions for his career. And so you will have ruined the mere chance of having a friendship with someone you admire.

But his response was very different from what you imagined.

- Yeah… I wanted to ask… if you want to go out with me, do you know after the awards?

The initial perplexity is replaced by a mixture of relief and surprise. You expected the worst, but here Felix is, not mentioning anything about the intense stares, but rather extending an invitation to hang out.

- Wow, of course, I would love to! It would be amazing. - You smile trying to hide your surprise.

Felix seems to relax a little, like he's relieved by his answer.

- Great so! Will be cool. The awards are going to be incredible, but I think after that we can relax a little, what do you think?

- I will love it!

- Excellent! See you after the awards, then. - He says with a dazzling smile

He turns to leave the dressing room, and you stay there, processing the unexpected turn of events. What seemed like a potential uncomfortable situation turned into an invitation to hang out. Perhaps the intense looks were perceived differently by Felix.

Later that night…

"Y/N from 'Unseen Hearts' and Felix from Stray Kids spotted holding hands after the Billboard Music Awards!"

"The beginning of a new ship? Y/N and Felix, moments of romance after the awards."

"Fans are ecstatic over photos of Y/N and Felix together. Could this be the start of a new friendship or something more?"

And on Twitter…

😱 Holding hands? This is real? Y/N and Felix together? I'm freaking out! 😍🥰 # #Y/NxFelix  #UnseenHeartsLove

🚢 Is a new ship being born? The internet needs to know! 😏🚀 # Y/Nlix #ShipSpeculation

🌟 The friendship between Y/N and Felix is so beautiful! We loved seeing the two together. 🤝💖 #FriendshipGoals # Y/NAndFelix

🧐 Holding hands? Are we all witnessing the beginning of something special? 🤔🌈 # Y/NAndFelix #SpeculationsRising

📸 Exclusive photos of Matt and Felix leaving the event. Are we seeing the birth of a new partnership? 🤝💫 #CelebrityNews # Y/NFelixMoments

📚 What do you think of a fanfic based on these photos? 😏💕 # Y/NlixFanfic #ShippingDreams

And so maybe Unseen Hearts weren't so unseen...

[andy-wm]

3D by JK (feat. JH) - my take.

Ok, unpopular opinion maybe, and I might get my ass beaten for this (not in a good way 🤣)

Feel free to disagree RESPECTFULLY.

Disclaimer: If anyone comes at me with that cancel bullshit I will block you, because we all get to have an opinion.

If my post enrages you, scroll past until you can be civil, then come back and talk. Or block me. I dont mind.

And don't tell me that because I don't love this song I have to hand in my ARMY card... I'm not going to.

🙂💜🙂

I'll start by saying I love JK so, so much. Adore him. Will always support him.

But for me, 3D is a misstep.

My feeling is Hybe should have reconsidered releasing it as it is.

JK's lyrics are fun and sexy. The innuendo is on point. The melody is great and the chorus has excellent sing-along value. Even though I'm not a huge pop music fan, I like the vibe.

The MV dancers are awesome, and I got a kick out of the fire hydrant metaphor.

And in that jacket with nothing under it, JK looks hot enough to melt asphalt.

However....

Including Jack Harlow's rap IMO is a mistake. It sucks, frankly. Not in a good way.

It not only misses the mark on the tone of the rest of the song but his lyrics are really just offensive. Misogynistic. And racial refrences are just... not cricket. It's 2023 not 1995, regardless of what his hairstyle tells you.

His lyrics sound like an incel bragging about their sex life when all they've ever done is watch porn. From his words, I doubt he knows how to please any person but himself.

His message is gross, but its still just... generic. Like he went to urban dictionary for spicy language and then googled how to treat women like shit. There's nothing original about what he's saying. He's not even being gross in an intersting way. It's gross AND boring.

(Jack, if you're reading this, sorry my guy you gotta do better.)

I've been army since 2018 and this is the first BTS song I have tried to find merit in and given up.

I honestly tried to be into it and i just... can't. It doesn't sit well with me.

This is a new experience for me because even when BTS release something i don't immediately love, i still stream and watch and let it sink in, or I work on figuring out what I am missing and why it's ACTUALLY good even if i can't grasp it.

This... it's just... not good, in my opinion.

I have to clarify here...

It isn't about explicit content, i am totally down for that. If anyone read my post on Seven, they will know my response to that song. In a nutshell, I believe all adults who want to, should happily and shamelessly be doing ALL the horizontal tango. Every type, every day, in every way. With anyone and everyone they fancy as long as all parties are informed and consenting adults who are equally enjoying the experience.

Yes. I am all about getting down.

That doesn't mean treating your partners like a body count or using and abusing them with no consideration. That's not cool.

**PSA: please be safe and use protection. Get tested regularly if you have multiple partners. Don't do anything you don't feel good about and dont stay with partners who harm or manipulate you 💜**

Now, back to the smut.

Some criticisms i saw of Seven were about how dirty it was. A few people were upset because JK said fuck, and because he sang about how and when he liked to fuck. But more criticism was levelled at Letto. Why?

It seemed like it was because she's a woman, singing about sex.

Letto totally owns her sexuality and she knows what she wants. I snorted with delight at how deliciously filthy her lyrics were. Some very clever wordplay made her verse so visceral, and pretty shocking to the pearl-clutchers, without her ever saying anything directly. I really enjoyed it.

She was telling us straight up how good she is in bed. Good for her. She totally rocks. And she wasn't disrespecting anyone. She didn't need to do that to make herself cool AF.

The difference between Letto's rap and jack harlow's is that jack sounds like he's just looking at the women he's singing about as a hole to stick his dick in. Women have fought for long enough for equality and respect. They don't need this bullshit. You can sing about getting down, and you can be absolutely filthy and nasty and wild, and you can do it without degrading your partners.

I did read a theory about this song being social commentary on toxic masculinity. You can find it here and you can read it below:

Its not bad as a theory. At least it wouldn't be if Namjoon or Yoongi or Hobi - or Jungkook himself - had written the song. If that were the situation we'd see some inkling of self awareness in the rap, and maybe a hint of character development. But there's none.

Sorry ARMY, this is not the class of lyricism we have come to expect.

If jack is trying to make a social statement^*, or play a character, he is not succeeding in showing any growth or humanity at all. He's really just that stereotype.

In the last few lines, after he offers to fly his victim from Korea to Kentucky, he says "and you ain’t gotta guarantee me nothing I just wanna see if I get lucky."

How considerate...

All I see is zero care factor about the actual person he's trying to get with. Which is quite different from JK's lyrics, which show awareness that he's interacting with a conscious, living human being, not a piece of furniture.

jack follows with "I just wanna meet you in the physical and see if you would touch me"

Ugh. Not with a ten foot pole, douchebag.

And how about, in his first verse "All my ABGs get cute for me"

Good god, really? Is he seriously saying this?

So its a no for me.

The ONLY saving grace is that there's an alternative version which is pretty fun. It's almost as if Hybe knew we would hate the version with jack harlow. Wow, such insight!

Now, i know that's not the only reason they made an alternative. They needed a clean version for US radio play (let's be real, what possible other purpose can this song serve? *°)

But they could have censored jack's... actually they couldn't. The rap verses can't be salvaged. They genuinely have no merit, the only hope for the song is totally removing them.

What does that tell you?

ARMY will no doubt still chart the main track but personally, I would feel morally compromised if i supported that version. So I'll stick to the alternative and hope for better things to come.

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

^* Stylecaster doesnt think so either. I visited their website to check thr lyrics. They said, of D3, "Meanwhile, Jack Harlow brings the cool with his two verses as he raps about all the women he could pull"

Uh, really? I hope that's intended to be ironic.

*° The MV had only 4.5million views after 12 hours. And we know what brilliant strategists Hybe employs. I am travelling in Korea right now. There was no promo visible here. And it was no accident that it was released at lunchtime on Chuseok - the biggest famiily holiday of the year - when relatively few people in Korea would be available to engage with it. THEY KNEW IT WAS A STINKER.

[lovelyhan]

Sexting with Jeonghan -Have fun! Sam @dkakapizzaboy 🩷

SAM>!!?!?!!?!/ i... don't even have words anymore i'm just going to

⟣ sexting with jeonghan ⟢ wc: 0.6k words minors do not interact!

You wouldn't call yourself needy.

In fact, you're sure you're fairly independent yourself. Your relationship with Jeonghan has a grounded give-and-take dynamic, which you honestly didn't expect when you first got together with him. This means that he doesn't necessarily leave you wanting for too long that you'd resort to becoming needy.

But just because both of you have your heads in the right place for the most part, doesn't mean it erases the fact that your boyfriend is a busy, busy man.

You're hit with a particularly unscratchable itch when Jeonghan has a day packed with shoots and dance practices. You know better than to bother him when he's got his hands full with their most recent comeback, but you suppose a few texts hinting at what he's going to come home to won't hurt, right?

Me: hannie, what time do you finish up today? i have a little surprise for you ><

It takes Jeonghan an hour to reply, but you don't really hold that against him, being a full-time idol and everything.

Jeonghan: hey, angel. we should be done by eleven! miracle, right?

Me: your producers are way too hard on you sometimes :/ anyway, aren't you curious abt the surprise?

Jeonghan: i am, but something's telling me this "surprise" of yours is an occupational hazard.

Jeonghan: angel, if you're going to send what i think you're sending...

Me: :) [1 Attachment]

You know better than to distract Jeonghan while he's in the middle of work, but it's not like you're actively there with him on whatever set he's at. You're simply at the comfort of your home, wearing the lingerie set that drives Jeonghan crazy whenever he comes home to see you wearing it -- stockings, harnesses, garters and all.

He doesn't have to know that you're internally cackling to yourself as the three dots indicating that he's typing back a response hover in and out of the screen. Like he's at a loss for words, and has to type out an entire spiel before deleting it again.

When he finally manages a proper reply, though, you end up clenching your thighs together as you go over each word.

Jeonghan: i hope you're ready to take responsibility for the problems you're giving me.

Jeonghan: we're shooting a music video right now, and you made me pop a hard-on in the middle of the set. are you happy with yourself?

Me: mhmm <3

Me: can't wait for you to shove your cock down my throat, hannie~ we both know you need it more than you're willing to admit

Me: you can finish all over my tits if you want <3

Jeonghan: you're being extra cheeky today, aren't you?

Jeonghan: no, sweetheart. you're going to swallow every last drop i'm going to give you. then you're going to ride me right after.

Jeonghan: that's the least you can do for making me want you in the middle of work, isn't it?

Me: anything you want, hannie.

Me: i just miss you so much... i'm already touching myself wishing it was you instead.

Jeonghan: oh? are you so desperate that you can't even wait for me to come home?

Jeonghan: my needy little angel. be good for me, will you? no touching yourself until i get back.

Me: fine. but i want a reward for being good :(

Jeonghan: how does a pretty pussy dripping with my cum sound like, sweetheart?

Fuck. You're the one who's supposed to be riling him up -- not the other way around. But then again, you've been with Jeonghan long enough to know that it's completely futile to outdo the doer.

Me: you have yourself a deal.

Me: now, get back here sooner or i might just decide that i want to be a brat tonight after all.