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multi-fandomfuckboy · 2 months

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Stranger Than Fiction

Part 28: Games

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...

AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse

It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms.

Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics.

“People think I’m insane, because I’m frowning all the time… I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind.”

“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy.

“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him.

“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume. Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song.

“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”

Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well.

“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.

“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk.

“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh.

“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them.

“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house.

“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around.

“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic.

Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room.

“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach.

“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy.

“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable.

“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly.

“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially.

“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain.

“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face.

“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow.

“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead.

“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room.

“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan.

“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years.

“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago.

“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it.

“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.

“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.

“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.

This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it.

“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly.

“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile.

“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves.

Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately.

“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.

“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking.

“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.

“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance.

“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.

“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-

“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door.

“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed.

“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans.

“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind.

“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow.

“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes.

“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters.

Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism.

“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder.

“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too.

Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.

“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her.

“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you.

“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly.

“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs.

“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll.

The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out.

“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car.

“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness.

“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return.

“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word.

“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth.

“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes.

“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.

“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk.

“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb.

It turns out that you ARE that bad.

Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores.

The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from.

Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group.

After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game.

Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging.

“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.

“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other.

“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak.

“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him.

“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe.

“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders.

“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.

“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling.

“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game.

“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words.

“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question.

“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on.

“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath.

“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission.

“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.

“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga.

“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game.

“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.

“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.

AN: sorry this took so long... again!

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grimm-writings · 5 months

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HIIII i LOVE your blog!! could i request a bard reader performing a song in front of the party, and it slowly dawns upon chilchuck that the song is about loving him? 🥺

a way with words

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, reader is a bit of a poetic shit <3, reader plays a string instrument (envisioned a lute or mandolin but i don’t specify!)

…wc! 1092

…notes! OH MY GODDDD this is so cute. what the hell. we need more bard representation in this got damn dungeon. (i know thistle could technically be one but one in a party i beg)

To me, some parties employ a bard if they plan on going on ‘legendary’ outings into dungeons.

Somebody needs to be there to document their exploits through the written word – how else are legends made?!

You probably stumbled on the party with the intent to write a song of legend. Eating the dragon that ate one of you sounds pretty legendary after all, right?

Safe to say if you’re not exactly humble about your profession you get on the nerves of a certain union man.

Even if your reason for joining the party was… less than virtuous, you did bring a certain joy to the party that they all appreciate.

If journeying is getting tiring, all you need to do is pluck a few strings of your instrument and hum a travelling song.

Sometimes you’d make a little ‘game’ out of it. You know using the drunken sailor melody to make your own songs? Well…

“What shall we do with a big red dragon, earl-ye in the morning!” Your voice rings out, bouncing off the walls of the dungeon around you. You eye the party around you before your gaze lands on the half-foot seeming disinterested in your performance. Well, that simply won’t do! You lunge, dragging him back by the shoulders, eyeing him expectantly. He only gives you a wide-eyed look of surprise for a second before realising everyone is watching. He’d hate to interrupt the song, so… “Tie it down and eat it for dinner?” he suggests, only guessing the rhythm vaguely. To his surprise, you seem to really like it. You laugh and pick up the music once more to sing his lyric once again. He has to admit, at least you’re having fun. He doesn’t realise until you reach a stop that he’s been singing along at the end.

I imagine half-foots have a cultural appreciation for music. It’s a big scene! They have drinking songs, travelling songs, work songs… I wouldn’t be surprised if most bards are half-foots!

And Chilchuck is no exception. Have you seen his little jig? Of course he likes music!

He has great hearing so he’ll also pick up on little accents in your music and singing others wouldn’t really get.

If you’re performing a campfire song, Chilchuck will likely join in (especially if he had a bit of drink).

It’s nice. He seemed to be relaxing around you, and you seem to be becoming more of a friend to the party rather than a glorified biographer.

You have to admit that the half-foot has been growing you a considerable amount. What a complex individual. So much to read into and inspire…

It would be one night when you’re on night watch that Chilchuck’s sensitive ears end up waking him up. ..

The half-foot was going to hiss and complain about you being too loud at this time in the night, when he realises you’re playing a melody and mumbling words to yourself. …Huh. Are you writing a song? Chilchuck tries to remain still with his eyes closed and listens closely. It’s handy having such keen senses sometimes. He could only pick up a few words; brown, warmth… something about a kind soul? Chilchuck figures you might be setting up for the party’s “legendary” song. Maybe you’re focusing on Falin. Her hair is a very pale brown, and she’s a kind soul if a bit of a people pleaser. He rests easy, listening to your gentle plucking of your strings. It’s a different melody from usual… he likes your softer side he can identify through your music.

He never tells you he listened to your little jam sesh. If you knew he’s using your music as a way to fall asleep easier… He can see your smug smile now, and it makes him endlessly frustrated (or flustered rather).

Chilchuck’s feelings are something he never really… knew. They just sort of existed, and he let them. It’s not like anything will happen.

Sure, he gets more red in the face around you… and MAYBE he gets a softer look in his eyes as he looks at you… and perhaps he thinks your singing voice is one of the prettiest sounds he has ever heard…

So what?

It’s a colder night when you take out your instrument and announce you finished writing a song. It took you a long time to complete it, you admit, but you put a lot of heart into it.

A unique starter, the party might think. Usually you write for fun. Specifying putting heart into your music is something that rings an alarm in their heads.

You start playing a melody. It’s a type of sombre, deep sound. It resonates a less folksy mood and something more… personal. With eyes closed, you don’t notice Chilchuck perking up in familiarity. That’s the tune he heard you playing weeks ago. You only just refined it? At least he can actually hear what the words are. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you sing about a character that has a kind soul, with deep brown eyes. His warmth is something that you find yourself wanting to bathe in once a journey ends. Chilchuck listens with a small smile. It’s only when you start mentioning things like silver strands of hair you wish to weave through your fingers, things start to fall into place. Wringing his hands too often for a well-prepared man is a lyric that is too specific to merely be about some fictional character. He doesn’t say anything even as he joins in the applause at your finished peace, pretending the heat in his cheeks is from the frosty temperature.

That night, he catches you alone refilling your waterskin. The atmosphere is thick with a kind of calmness.

Where Chilchuck is usually so stubborn, he finds the words escaping his lips in a soft voice.

“Are you in love with me?” You don’t respond instantly. He expected as such. He follows your form with his eyes as you widen your eyes and glance away with a small laugh. “Wow. Wasn’t as subtle as I thought,” you dryly tack onto your chuckle. He laughs along, approaching you. He doesn’t do anything drastic, instead offering his own to you. “It’s okay,” he tells you, surprised at his own lack of embarrassment despite the situation. “The fact you notice all that about me is… flattering. You really have a way with words.” You return the grin he gives you and take his hand, squeezing it. “How could I not notice, when you are my intimate muse?”

#✮ grimm's fics!#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader

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bloodyymaryyy · 5 months

Text

Gossip girl xoxo

Part 4

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / masterlist

Warnings : mention of underage drinking but other than that don't know

((Side note : apparently you guys like the series so what you want you take my beautiful people! I love you guys! Anyway I saw what happened with lando and I had to make that in here! Also something is coming soon I don't know if you will like it but I will enjoy writing so 🤷‍♀️))

Texts with lando

You : hi lan!

Landinio : hey!

You: I heard that you are going to King's day tomorrow with Martin

Landinio : yeah I am what's up?

You : well I got invited for some reason too and wanted to know if you will go with martin or you could carpool with me! I have the lambo here!

Landinio : OH SHIT! I am texting with will rn to cancel on him! There is no way I am missing the lambo ride with you!

You: okay sweet just text me when are you meeting and here you are staying at to come get you because I am out rn. Ttyl x!

Landinio : oh 😏 with who?

You : none of your bizz bye!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Texts between martin and lando

Lando : hey martin sorry to cancel last minute but y/n is coming and she has her lambo here and I won't find another chance to rice that thing so... Sorry again!

Will : oh it's nothing I understand I would too!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

After picking up lando from his hotel we headed out towards the boat that the party is held taking empty wide roads to really drive the thing, drifting and doing a few donuts in an empty parking lot just for the thrill of it but making sure to actually arrive in the boat party you both got out of the car talking and laughing entering and finding Martin by the dj booth.

Greetings were exchanged talking and laughing until the second round of drinks that started to kick in hopping around, dancing and sings to the rhythm being surrounded by the Dutch men.

You two weren't fazed by the phones recording your every move because you were having fun and a little tipsy, not that you would admit it both to anyone that in fact you were drunk continuing with the drinks and having fun and just as you were getting drinks you got elbowed in the face not really hard but enough to cause a little mountain the next hour not really noticeable.

Lando in the other hand just as you were nearing him again was hit or something because his nose was bleeding you drank both of them quickly and ran up to him while near you can see the bloody roll down in this lips and teeth he smiled at you teeth bloody, you started to laugh at the situation. Someone had a first aid kit and you cleaned the wound putting a plaster on the cut and a bandage wrapped around his head loosely because you were drunk it was going to be messy.

When you finished you started to laugh again at his stupid look he looked like a mummy but who cares? You two didn't nor did the men around you so you both continued dancing, bouncing, shouting lyrics and drinking again. You weren't piss drunk you could think and walk straight and so was lando, playing some songs with martin lando djing for a bit so will could take a break, talking to you laughing and gossiping about news lately and having fun and creating the mood for the actual club that Will, Lando and you will be going to after the pre party in the boat. You were sure you will regret going to another club but current you don't care about it, future you maybe.

You weren't a light weight by any means, starting drinking from a young age and in your teenage years going out drinking almost everyday drinking made it hard for you to get drunk so you were good by half of the actual party in the club but you wouldn't say lando was the same...

Cutting your night in the what you seen fit as to lando wouldn't start throwing up but you could see he was ready to do anyway calling a taxi and telling him the directions of your hotel so you won't drive while drunk.

Taking him by his bicep and wrapping one hand around his shoulder and the other in his arm you payed for the drinks you ordered and left, waiting for the taxi to arrive he was talking to you, whispered things, making sentences up that made no sense, talking gibberish almost falling in his face while you were laughing and loose the grip around him and quickly regaining strength keeping his upright the taxi finally arrived.

Getting him inside and going arout the car so you could take care of him he laid his head in your lap while you slowly and softly graced your hand through his brown curls and stroking his cheek softly while he closed his eyes smiled and opening one eye to look up at you periodically while you made small conversations with the driver which was a fan of the sport and you learned his daughter's favourite driver was you from a young age looking up at you and asking for a photo with you, he wanted a photo with lando but he was asleep so you decided against it, when you arrived you took his phone got a selfie with him and one alone from a high angle so he was visible but not his face just his hat and hoodie that he got out with, you paid the driver and slowly got out of the car and went around the car again opening the door taking his hand waking him up a little so he can get out but he feel asleep again on you as you closed the door.

You again wrapped a hand around him and holding his other firmly you opened the hotel door and getting inside the building, the receptionist was eyeing you but you didn't care you were determined to get him safe and tugged in, heading in the elevator you waited for the doors to close and pressing the button of your level.looking at the mirror you see on your dress a bit of blood from lando's nose you looked a bit disheveled with your eye sparkly eyeshadow somehow under your eye, the lipstick long gone now in its place your lip pencil a bit smeared around the corners of your mouth, in your forehead a little knob and in lando having his head buried in your neck seamingly asleep by his slow rhythmed breathing that was hitting your neck practically hugging you, the elevator pinged letting you know that you got to your floor you started trying to wake him up to stop hugging you but he didn't budged you decide to just carry him to your door which was easier taking out your card key which luckily you took out of your wallet in the taxi and opened the door.

Upon entering you left him to the bed trying once again to gently wake him up so he could change, you left the club at 4 :30 and now you read the clock it said 5 : 30 so you did all of this in an hour and in heels... He is gonna pay fro this but for now you laid a hoodie that you had oversized and long shorts again oversized that you knew that would fit you took your pj's and headed to the bathroom, you washed your face to get rid of the make up and changed out of the dress and heels.

Going again the the bed you saw lando's clothes messily tossed around the side of the bed he was occupying and in your clothes, the hoodie was one of your merch with a red bull logo in the back and you are not gonna tell that to him, wanting him to walk out with it, he was lying in your bed the covers covering most of him but his back and head out you took a picture and tugged him in and walking to your side of the bed pulling up the covers and getting in falling asleep almost instantly, felling a pair of hands wrapping around you and a head to your neck going closer to lando cuddling up on you and falling asleep peacefully

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Waking up in the morning was a struggle, you wouldn't say it was really a morning but evening waking up at 1pm by calls on your phone. Lando still asleep but starting to stir awake too by the annoying ringing of your phone you took your phone from the night stand you answered the phone without looking who it was

It was max

( the convo went like this)

Red : max / pink : y/n

Y/n? Why aren't you answering my calls? I have been calling you non stop from the morning where are you?

Max lower your voice... I have been sleeping what do you want? I am in my hotel room rn sleeping

Why are you still sleeping? What time did you leave the club last night?

4:30

Why? How did you get to the hotel?

Omg max can you interrogate me later? Let me sleep man...( a raspy voice could be heard in the background : stop talkinggg and then a sigh) shut up. Anyway I will call you back lat-

No! No don't fucking hang up! Are you with someone I heard a man! Who is he?!

Omg max! It's lando what do you want? I will talk to you later good bye!

I said and hand up the call not waiting for max to reply and rolled over now cuddling lando and falling asleep again for a few minutes then waking up by lando leaving the bed.

After he got a shower he came back and by then I dressed up to get food because I was starving waiting for lando you go together. We did you got a few pictures with fan and got food.

After that you called max and explained everything at some point max came with us to a few stored and hung out together and took max's plane and went to Monaco each to their own homes.

That's it thank you! ( not the end of the series tho)

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foreverisntenough · 1 month

Text

https://www.tumblr.com/foreverisntenough/759269266884329472/thought-of-a-one-shot-idea-trent-is-playing-the?source=share

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

'Big Gunna Fan' - 1.4k words |

↳ Teddy loves the attention she gets when she starts to repeating a line from a song but Y/N was less than impressed with what music Trent had been playing in front of her.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

“Fubumeen!” Teddy yelled with a giggle running around the gym in your house. The gym in your home acted as Trent’s sanctuary, a place where he could unwind and keep in peak condition. Today, he’d brought Teddy down with him. She liked to just spend time with him, letting her bounce around on the yoga mats while he worked out. Music blasted from the speakers—his usual playlist of high-energy tracks, including some rap songs that he knew he’d have to be careful with around his little girl but Marcel and Curtis were over today so he let them play on. As Trent finished a set of weights, he heard Teddy mimicking the lyrics to a Gunna song that had been on loop lately in and out of the gym, her voice innocent but unmistakably repeating a bar with a curse word. He froze, torn between stifling a laugh and knowing he had to nip this in the bud.

“Nah, Ted. Can’t say that. We’re just vibing alright?” Trent laughed and shook his head. He wasn’t really sure how to address it. His mind was split. He knew he had to tell her no but it was silly, it was only a song. Before he could say anything more, Marcel and Curtis erupted in laughter and started encouraging her.

“Young Gunna Wunna back, callin' me splurge.” Curtis rapped back to her with a bit of a bob of his head crouching into a squat in front of her. He waved his hand for her to say it again.

“Fubumeen!” Teddy giggled once more, loving the attention and the smile on all the boys faces.

“Young Gunna Wunna, they workin' my nerves.” Marcel continued on with more lyrics taking a seat on a bench. He was more than entertained with this, Teddy was his little bestie and these were peak moments. It was hilariously cute but he was a fun uncle, not her parent.

“Fubumeen!” Teddy yelped a bit louder. She was delighted by the attention and continued to repeat the phrase, her eyes shining with amusement. Trent, unable to hide his own grin, decided to let it slide for the moment, figuring it would pass when the song changed. That evidently wasn’t the case when they all returned upstairs. You knew the three boys would be hungry and likely Teddy too so you were in the kitchen getting some food ready. Teddy was eager to see you, still riding the high of the gym’s antics, she couldn’t wait to share with you all the fun she had just had.

“Ted, big Gunna fan now?” Marcel laughed walking into the kitchen as expected, holding her, able to hear her mutter the ‘fuck you mean’ phrase as if she was practicing. You turned to see her cute as ever chubby cheeks full and indented with dimples. Trent laughed but internally was hoping it stayed downstairs.

“Fubumeen, mama.” Teddy proudly repeated once more with some rhythm. Your eyebrow raised, not totally sure you heard her correct. Trent winced as he entered the kitchen behind them hearing it already. “Mama like dada and Celly’s music.” She giggled, thinking she was still being funny.

“Yeah, baby?” You shot Trent a pointed look. You let it go once or twice but when you saw the greed grow on her face from the attention. You knew it needed to stop. Much like her dad, Teddy loved being gassed up. This was probably one of the few things you weren’t going to indulge her in for confidence. You had to try to suppress a smile. It was cute but definitely not okay. “T?” You questioned him a little curious how you ended up with your daughter saying this.

“Baby, it’s just a song, and, well it’s a little funny, no?” Trent raised his hands in defense, still trying to suppress his own smile but remembering rapidly that this probably wouldn’t sit well with you. You hated that you had to play bad cop but you didn’t want your baby girl saying this.

“Okay a little but it’s also not though. This isn’t funny, seriously.” You quipped biting your lip trying not to laugh seeing Marcel continue on with Teddy. You crossed your arms attempting to stand your ground, though there was a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Mama! Fubumeen! Fubumeen! Fubumeen!” Teddy continuously yelled having the time of her life reciting the Gunna lyric. At this point Trent was sure you weren’t going to be happy.

“Teddy, no, baby. Stop please.” You reprimanded her and Trent’s stifled quiet laugh stopped. “T.. that’s enough.” You shot him a glare. Teddy of course listened to you but you know she’d immediately listen to Trent, no explanation needed plus he was the one that started this.

“Hey Ted, mmnnmm. No more.” Trent commanded Teddy, shaking his head and she stopped instantaneously. A part of you was so frustrated by his influence on her. You just huffed with a roll of your eyes. Marcel and Curtis were now on their phones starting up a completely separate conversation between the two of them over at the kitchen table. Despite being friends, the fear of ‘parents’ being mad had them wanting to get out of there quickly.

“Mama funny though. They laughing. Fubumeen?” She questioned if the phrase was funny to you too. The boys couldn’t help their laughter from starting up again hearing her little voice say it again with such inquiry, oblivious to the tension the lyric had caused. The other boys were one thing but Trent started to laugh again was the final straw for you.

“Yeah? Just keep going then... You want her to say the next couple lines?” You snapped at Trent sarcastically. For context the following words were variations of ‘fucking this bitch like a perv, smack from the back, grab her perm,’ and so on…

“Baby… I’m sorry it’ll be fine.” He cooed to you with some fear. He knelt down to Teddy’s level now gently taking her hands, knowing he had to fix this. “I know it was funny, baby but that’s a big kid word. We don’t say that, okay? It’s only for grown-ups, and even then, it’s not very nice.” Trent tried to explain to her as her eyes began to poole, realizing that what she had been giggling about wasn’t nice. You turned unamused with Trent trying to rectify a situation he created.

“But was dada music.” Teddy pouted as her lash line filled with tears. “Mama?” Teddy's eyes darted around the kitchen looking for you in a panic. She broke away from Trent in tears, worried, chasing after you.

“What Teddy girl…” You replied fairly short but still flashing your eyes down to her.

“I’m sorry, mama.” She began balling. Crying floods of tears. “Mad at mes foreber?” Teddy hiccuped vision blurred from all her tears. Guilt crashing over her.

“No, my baby. C’mere. We just don’t say those things, okay?” You cooed softening as you kneeled down to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. “Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes too, sweetheart. But it’s important to listen to Mummy and Daddy when we say something isn’t okay to say.” You gently tried to explain. You kissed her head consoling her till she calmed down.

“Can I still go gyms with dada?” She sheepishly asked you. You smiled. It was sweet, all she wanted was to just be with her daddy. You repeated her question louder for Trent to hear who was leaning in the doorway looking on.

“Course, baby bear. We’ll listen to something else next time though, yeah?” Trent gently smiled feeling both guilty and relieved. You nodded with a hum agreeing with him that there should be some sort of censoring go forward.

“Hold you to that, daddy.” You winked at Trent. You picked Teddy up with you as you stood and held her to you after she refused to let go now. She’d be glued to you for the next few days trying to regain your love back. The thing she didn’t realize was that she’d never lost it, not even for a second. Trent laughed at your wink. He knew he’d have to be more careful about what he played around Teddy, but he also couldn’t help but appreciate how she’d brought some unexpected humor into their day.

“So mummy forgave our Teddy bear... What about daddy?” Trent asked you with some cheek and a pout running his one hand over Teddy’s hair and pulling you by your waist into him with his other. Teddy looked up to you with the same pleading eyes as Trent's awaiting your answer.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough work here!

For context:

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #Spotify

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cherrybean · 3 months

Text

What songs that Lalo/Nacho and Lacho would f*ck you to ❤️‍🔥

This is a bit older as i meant to publish this on my birthday haha. Hope you guys enjoy 💗

-Straight up smut/p*rn

-Not much of a plot

COMPLETED :

Lalo Salamanca

- “All Mine” Brent Faiyaz

- This man is the definition of a toxic relationship

- If you listen to the lyrics it’s about a toxic situationship in which they have a good connection, mainly sexually (lmao) but you can tell there’s still some deep emotions there

- Lalo would definitely sing the lyrics to you while he’s pounding into you

The music filled the room, as your moans bounced off the walls. Lalo gripped the sides of your mouth as he bucked his hips into yours, filling you up to the brim. “Say it princesa” he’d coo watching as your eyes rolled back into your head. “L-lalo” you pathetically moaned as you tried to concentrate on what he was asking of you, as if you could concentrate on anything else but your your legs hoisted up on his shoulders in a mating press. “Dimelo muñequita” (tell me little doll) Lalo said assertively. “I’m yours” you managed to get out as he continued to pound into you as the headboard started to smack against the wall. His thrusts were relentless as Lalos callused fingers gripped your breasts and he twirled your nipple, causing a small yelp to leave your lips. “Lalo please” you whined as he started to slow down his movements now to follow the rhythm of the song. “But you look so good like this muñequita” Lalo said grinning, “look at my little slut beginning to climax”. To be continued…

Nacho Varga

- “Wicked Games” The Weeknd

- Feel like he listens to The Weeknd lmaoo

- This song mainly because The Weeknd talks about leaving his girl and messing with someone else…so he’d be messing with you while having his other women at home

Nacho had picked you up after a stressful day of dealing with his boss. You didn’t care as you were parked out in the middle of nowhere as your face was on the cold leather seats as he hit it from the back. The stereo playing music to mask your moans as Nacho dug his hands into your hips. “Nacho right there” you moaned as he had one knee on the leather seat to be able to angle into your perfect spots. Your makeup had been ruined, but it usually was any night he would call you up to meet in his car. With one eyelash on and the other other already on the car seat, all you could do was grip the leather seat with your nails. “Fuck, you feel so good” Nacho would groan as he’d bend over to grip your face forcing you to look back at him. “Look at me hermosa” Nacho said as you felt the tears in your eyes form from the pleasure. To be continued…

Lacho

- “Streets” Doja Cat

- Nacho would be the only man Lalo would ever “share you with”

- This would be a one time thing only…or would it ;)

You didn’t expect to be in this situation. One moment you were asking for the aux in the car, the next Lalo was snaking his had up your mini skirt as the rough pad of his fingers found your clothed clit. “Lalo no” you’d whisper not trying to let Nacho, who was driving, know what was going on in the back. You tried to close your thighs around his hand, but knocking Lalo he’d just use his other hand to pry your legs open. You’d try and stifle your moan as Lalo would move your panties to the side to get better access. You couldn’t help but notice that Lalo was holding a conversation with Nacho as if he didn’t have his hand up your skirt.

….

Tears brimmed in your eyes, gagging on Nachos dick as Lalo lined himself up behind you. “Tell me if it’s too much princesa” Lalo would say before slowing entering you. You couldn’t help but moan causing Nacho to throw his head back as it sent vibrations down his dick causing you to gag more. To be continued…

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ghosts-bandwagon · 2 years

Text

I can’t get this idea out of my head so here’s the boys with a musical s/o:

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He loves watching you enjoy your music, seeing you bob your head, sway your hips, or bounce your leg to the rhythm of the song, he loved it all

Loves it when you introduce him to new music and holds your recommendations in high regards, he’ll give every song/band/album a good listen and give an honest critique

I personally headcanon him as a lo-fi, ambient deep house fan, maybe even enjoys movie soundtracks, just instrumentals overall (sometimes it’s a little distracting trying to focus on the lyrics)

If you have a habit of humming or singing a particular verse over and over (like I do), chances are he’ll be quietly humming that same tune later on

“Didn’t take you for the musical type, LT”

“Shut it, Johnny”

John Price:

He loves watching you dance but he’s the type to come up behind you and sway with you, head perched on top of yours

I take him as an 80s fan; Tears for Fears, A-Ha, Hall & Oates, Kate Bush (he’s def a Kate Bush fan and you can’t convince me otherwise) that kind of vibe

He’s a bit set in his tastes so he’ll be a bit reluctant to take on new music but he’ll still give your recommendations a chance, especially if you’re keeping his existing musical taste in mind when you do

My man belts out his favorite songs in the car and he absolutely melts when you join in, his cheeks sore from how hard he’s smiling, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

100% dancing with you in the kitchen, picking you up, spinning you around, you’re way off rhythm but you couldn’t care less with how breathlessly you’re laughing

I can definitely see him vibing to grunge rock, punk, maybe even some pub rock. If it’s got a kicking drum beat, fuck yeah. Loves that shit.

Always excited for new music recommendations, even if it’s not something he’d typically vibe with it he’s still eager to give it a chance, just for you

If you’ve got a song stuck in your head, then it’s stuck in his head too. He’s humming it on base, singing it off key in the showers, even so far as humming it quietly to himself when he’s away on a mission and he’s on watch for the night. It helps him feel closer to you.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

Definitely has a playlist for you, for himself, for the both of you, for hanging out together, for working out together, cooking together, my man has all the bases covered

I feel like your messages to one another include a lot of songs, links to Spotify playlists, music videos, critiques on recommendations

As far as musical taste goes, I feel like he likes a little bit of everything with an inclination to pop and neo-soul (you should give that group a listen, it’s such a vibe tbh)

Loves your recommendations and, like Ghost, he takes them very seriously, it’s always a thrill to see a song you told him about pop up in one of his playlists

I feel like he’s got a beautiful voice, if there’s a particular song you like that helps you relax, I 100% feel that he’d be humming that song to help you sleep, his arms around you, fingers running through your hair

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thebunnednun · 29 days

Text

LOYALTY [Chapter 6]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary:

You're running out of time.

Songs: Money by Cardi B Streets by Doja Cat

-----------------------------Chapter 7: Deal-------------------------------

You blink, snapping back to reality, and glance toward the source of the voice. Your manager stands there, a cancer stick dangling from his lips, a smirk playing on his features. But as you catch the way the blonde guy’s fiery glare zeroes in on him, your manager hesitates, taking an involuntary step back, the smirk faltering for just a second.

Without thinking, you place your hand over his heart to calm him, to offer some reassurance. But the moment your palm meets his chest, you freeze. ‘Holy shit!’ His heart is racing—pounding so hard it startles you. ‘Dear God, please don’t let him die here with me on top of him.’ The intensity of it continues to send a jolt through you, and for a split second, you consider pulling your hand away. But instead, you keep it there, feeling the strong, rapid rhythm beneath your fingers.

A soft breath escapes you, realizing the effect this moment has had on him—on both of you. With a steadying breath, you slowly peel yourself away from him, the connection lingering even as you step back.

“I’m hilarious,” you retort to your manager, a playful edge to your voice as you regain your composure. You give him a look that’s both a warning and a tease, letting him know you’re not in the mood for his games right now.

Your manager raises his hands in mock surrender, a chuckle escaping him as he takes another drag from his cigarette. "Sure thing, doll. Just don’t get too caught up, yeah?"

‘Fucking bastard!’

‘Fucking bastard.’

You don’t bother responding, your focus already shifting back to the group, the energy of the room buzzing once more as you slip back into the role you’ve perfected. But as you rejoin the others, you can still feel the lingering heat from where his heart beat so fiercely against your palm, a reminder that you had some unfinished business.

But as soon as the opening beats of Cardi B's "Money" hit the speakers, the spell is broken. You pull yourself into the princess persona you created and begin to slowly bounce and step along with the beat.

Bakugou stays rooted in place for a moment, watching as you step back into your role. But he can’t bring himself to watch this one, not with the way the song and your movements suggest a confidence that’s about more than just performance. He knows you have a job to do, but he doesn’t want to see you like this, not in front of other people. The thought of another man watching you, admiring you the way he has, makes something uncomfortable coil in his chest.

Without another word, he slides six grand onto the stage before making his way back to the bar, trying to put some distance between himself and the stage. He nurses a whiskey, eyes occasionally flicking back to you as you work the crowd.

It’s clear to him that you’re different with the women. There’s a lightness to your movements, a comfort in how you tease them, accepting their dollars with a smile. But it’s not the same as with the men, especially him. With them, you keep your distance, keeping the illusion alive but never fully closing the gap.

It’s subtle, but Bakugou notices, each stolen glance confirming what he suspected. You’re more at ease around women, more in control. When those men try to control your attention you don’t reward them. He finds himself wondering why, piecing together the little details he’s gathered about you.

From his seat at the bar, he can see the energy between you and your friends as you mouth the lyrics, moving in sync with one another. There’s a camaraderie there, a sense of trust and understanding that’s palpable, even to him. And as he watches, he can’t help but feel a pang of something unidentifiable—admiration, maybe, or something more complicated.

The song’s aggressive beat contrasts sharply with the way you handle yourself, the confidence in your movements underscoring that, despite everything, you’re in control. Even when you’re playing a role, there’s an undeniable strength in how you hold yourself.

Bakugou swirls the whiskey in his glass, glancing over at you again. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to you than what he’s seen tonight, more than what you’ve let anyone else see. And for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, that makes him want to learn more.

But for now, he settles back into his seat, content to steal glimpses of you while keeping a safe distance, letting you do what you need to do, all while feeling that unmistakable pull toward you.

As Bakugou leans back at the bar, his thoughts churn. The way you sang the lyrics to Cardi B’s “Money” so passionately had him wondering if you really loved money that much. But the way you moved, the fierce energy in your eyes, made him doubt that simple answer.

He knew there was more to it. A top 10 Pro Hero had left you, and that piece of information gnawed at him. He’d done some digging, but every time he searched for any past addresses linked to you in Japan, that other guy’s name popped up—your ex, the one the police mentioned had a history of abusing you.

Bakugou had looked him up too. The police might be idiots, but he wasn’t so easily fooled. Thanks to Kirishima’s quick thinking, he’d run your fingerprints through his personal database before destroying the cup. He didn’t need anyone else knowing what he did. And even if, later on, you told him you didn’t care if people knew,it was your choice whether to reveal your work in the club and online.

It was a strange thought, considering you never sold nudes or adult films. You never stripped down to more than a bikini. It was clear you value your privacy and had firm boundaries.

But what he found out about you shocked him. You were a foreigner here on a work visa, a registered Pro Hero. That floored him. A Pro Hero working in a strip club… why? He knew he wasn’t owed an answer, but damn it, he wanted to know why.

You were young, in your twenties, like him. You were in great shape, and with the strength you’d shown when you pushed him down earlier, he was sure you could handle yourself. Hell, you could probably throw that mammoth, Kirishima, if you wanted to!

So what the fuck happened?

His thoughts drifted back to your ex. Why did that wimp want to kill you? Yeah, he’d looked him up too—that sappy-ass loser, a poser who couldn’t even do the job himself. What kind of idiot delivers his own murder device?

Unless… What if it was just to scare you?

What if it was a trick to get you to retaliate, to get the cops involved and make the whole thing public like you feared? What if he had something on you, something that made it impossible for you to use your hero license, forcing you to work here instead?

The more Bakugou thought about it, the more the pieces started to come together. If that were the case, what was that bitch of an ex really planning to do? What did he have over you that kept you in this life, dancing for money and doing sultry streams instead of being out there, saving lives like you were clearly capable of doing?

He took another sip of his whiskey, eyes narrowing as he watched you on stage, the gears in his mind turning. There was something deeper going on here, something that made him want to dig even further, to understand what had brought you to this point. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself wanting to protect you, to figure out a way to help, even if you didn’t think you needed it.

He really needed to get his heart checked out, finally.

As the song wound down, Bakugou assumed it was over, but he couldn’t really tell with the hurricane of dollar bills and coins raining down on you and your friends. The stage was a mess of cash and glittering lights, obscuring his view as the crowd went wild. Some of your friends pulled out big trash bags, efficiently collecting the money while you grabbed a broom, doing your best to sweep the stage clean. Katsuki ordered a water and drank it slowly, trying to counteract the alcohol that was still buzzing in his veins.

Despite the chaos, he noticed how you deftly handled the crowd. Several people tried to stuff money into your clothes, but you just snatched it away, playing into the bratty persona you’d crafted online. It was shocking, really—how well you played the spoiled, mean girl while keeping those men drooling for more. Maybe that was your quirk after all, he thought. He didn’t know, and right now, it didn’t matter.

All he knew was that his heart hadn’t stopped racing since he met you. And like a drug, he needed more. There was something about you that pulled him in, made him want to dig deeper, to uncover the real you beneath all the layers of performance and secrecy. He left money for his tab on the counter, ordered a water bottle, and then made his way to the back, waiting for you.

As he leaned against the wall, watching the door to the private rooms, he felt an unfamiliar tension building in his chest. He had no idea what he was going to say to you, or if he even had the right to ask the questions that had been piling up in his mind. But one thing was clear—he wasn’t leaving this place until he had some answers.

Meanwhile–

Megumi worked swiftly with the vacuum, sucking up every dollar that fluttered on the stage, while the rest of you—eight in total, including Megumi's boyfriend and Eraza's girlfriend, who'd been blending into the crowd—hauled the bags to the trunk of their cars. You had the DJ, Freddy, close the curtains the moment the show ended, and now you were all stuffing your purses with decoy money, just in case things went south.

The plan was set: pay the house fees, none of the "protection" crap, and then quit. Tonight was your last night here. You were all moving to that new club, the one for pro heroes.

Well… maybe not you.

Freddy, the DJ—honestly too sweet for a place like this—came to warn you that the boss had "Big Ricky" waiting for you in your usual spot. The mention of Ricky made your blood run cold. He was the guy that would pretend to be all sweet before beating the girls senseless.

You handed Freddy your purse full of money, insisting he take it, even as he tried to shove it back. You hugged him quickly, taking his business card from his back pocket. You knew they’d break his sweet face if they found out he’d warned you all and he’d have a better chance at the new club than you would.

Why all this trouble? Your second day you found out, this wasn’t just a strip club. It was a front for dirty dealings—stolen goods, drugs, if you could name it, it was probably on the bathroom walls. Majority of the other dancers participated in the sex work, but your group was the last one standing—the only ones "unowned" by your boss, Yuji Tanaka. The only one’s he had nothing incriminating on to keep them there. He would’ve gotten rid of all of you by now if you all didn’t bring in such big spenders.

Eraza and Megumi were gonna leave with their partners, Casey dashed to the backroom to grab her things, her usual gun in tow. That left you, Michael, and Diamond—Kimiko—without a car. Michael all but ordered Kimiko to go with the others, and Freddy decided now was a good time to offer her a ride. "No funny business!" he added, but they couldn’t chase all the cars at once.

You Told everyone to regroup at the local church parking lot. They wouldn’t think to look there. Then you would change drivers of the cars to further throw them off and use old costumes from the dressing room. You were different people everyday anyway, how hard could it be?

They looked at you in shock and disbelief as Casey came back and you instituted it was the only way. Micheal nodded behind you, there was no other option. Some protests began, but Eraza's boyfriend reminded everyone the engines were running, and you all dashed for it. Not a dollar was left on the stage when you did. It was funny how clean the place looked now.

The curtains split open, but you didn’t wait to see the look on Nick's face. You and Michael took the back stairs to the lap dance section, where she quickly peeled off to take care of her regulars. Just as you were about to continue, you remembered the money in the ceiling and personal items you left in the locked drawer.

“Shit!”

You could hear footsteps behind you. Michael had a pink stun gun hidden in her wing, just in case there was trouble—she’d be fine. Plus, you’d seen her bench at the gym; she could handle herself. You, on the other hand, had a different plan.

Using some nearby leftover furniture, you climbed up into the ceiling, trying not to touch anything too gross as you crawled through the dark, the trash bags crinkling beside you. You kept going until you reached the hallway where you’d last seen the ash-blond. Peeking through the tiles, you gauged the situation below, then dropped down behind him with a cat-like grace.

He was surveying the area tensely, every muscle coiled as if ready to spring into action. You felt a flutter of nerves as you reached out and gently tugged his jacket.

"Uh, hey," you tried to manage casually, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt.

Bakugou turned around, completely shocked to see you standing there. His eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe you’d just appeared out of nowhere. Before he could utter a word, you sighed heavily, grabbing his wrist firmly.

"Look, I don't have a lot of time, but I need your help. Follow me," you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Without waiting for a response, you began dragging him down the hallway, your grip on his wrist strong and unyielding. He followed, too stunned to protest, his mind racing with a million questions. What the hell was going on? Why did you need his help? And why did it feel like whatever was happening was serious?

You led him into the bathroom, pushing open a secret door that led into one of the empty lap dance rooms. The dim lighting barely illuminated the space, casting eerie shadows along the walls. Bakugou’s eyes darted around, trying to take in everything at once, but it was clear from the look on your face that whatever was going down took precedence over his questions.

You all but threw him into a chair, keeping the lights off in the room. The sudden buzz in your bra made you pause. You pulled out your phone, seeing that the other girls had already gotten away and were sharing their locations with each other. Before you could drop yours, Michael texted that she was finishing up and hiding out back, waiting for you because she had a taxi on the way.

You quickly texted back, giving yourself a ten-minute window, before sliding your phone back into your bra. When you looked up, Bakugou's intense red eyes were trained on you, his gaze filled with confusion and concern.

"I think we know who we are, don't we?" you said, your voice low but steady, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Bakugou's breath hitched for a moment as he processed your words. Everything about this situation screamed danger, but the way you looked at him, the way you moved with such purpose—it stirred something in him. This wasn’t the time for his usual bravado. Instead, he simply nodded, acknowledging the unspoken truth that had been hanging between you since that night at the police station.

"Spill, princess," Bakugou demanded, his voice gruff but edged with genuine concern.

"Please don't call me that." You flinched at the nickname, as if his words had physically hurt you. The reaction made him frown, hard. A deep crease forming between his brows. He hadn’t meant to upset you, and seeing you react like that unsettled him.

Without a word, he passed you the water bottle he had been holding, a silent gesture of peace. You took it gently from his hands, your fingers brushing against his for a brief moment. The touch was brief, but it left an imprint on both of you. You inspected the bottle as if checking it for any hidden intentions before unscrewing the cap and finishing it in one shot. The cold water was a small comfort, grounding you as you prepared to open up.

"So you already know who I am. I'm assuming you're Ground Zero, right?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the tension in your voice.

Bakugou stiffened, the name hitting him like a jolt. He nodded slowly, confirming your suspicion. His mind was racing, trying to piece together what you might be about to tell him. He opened his wallet and slid you his pro hero license. You looked it over and used the condensation of your fingers to wipe over it and make sure it was legit before sliding it back.

"Look," you began, your voice softer now, almost hesitant. "How you spend your time off duty is on you. Thank you for the save earlier and for being a good client, but I'm in a lot of deep shit—other than the shitty ex—and I need your help."

He leaned forward slightly, his full attention on you. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, you began to explain everything. How you ended up in this mess, the reasons behind your current situation, and what was happening right now.

"I was a registered pro hero, once," you started, your voice trembling slightly as you delved into the past. "I came here on a work visa after graduating, ready to start my career. But things didn't go as planned. My ex—he’s not just a shitty old flmae. He’s dangerous. He’s been controlling, manipulative... abusive. He’s a pro hero too, and not exactly the type to go down in a fight.”

As you spoke, Bakugou’s frown deepened. He could see the pain and frustration in your eyes, the weight of your words heavy in the room.

“Longer story short, he kicked me out and I couldn’t find another job. I was isolated, scared, and... I didn’t have anyone to turn to. I ended up here, doing this,” you gestured vaguely around the room, “because I needed to survive. But this place... it’s not just a strip club. There’s shady shit happening here. Stolen crap, drugs, sex, whatever. My group refused to hand over the cash haul tonight and now we’re on the run.”

Bakugou clenched his fists, the thought of someone like you being trapped in this kind of life making his blood boil. You continued, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

“I need to get out, but it’s not that easy. Tonight, we planned to quit. But there’s a chance I’ll be caught before we can leave. The boss has people watching us, and if they find out what we’re doing... it won’t end well.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, which were now trembling slightly. “I need your help. I don’t know who else to trust, and I’m running out of options.” You sniffed and tried to bite your cheek to keep the tears forming in your eyes from spilling.

Bakugou exhaled slowly, his mind reeling from everything you’d just told him. He hadn’t expected this when he walked into the club tonight. But as much as the situation was fucked up, there was no way he was going to leave you to deal with it alone.

“What do you need?”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and once again for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for the first time took notice of how nice they were. "I'm sure Nick is still trying to find the money from the first performance. I know it's petty to just not leave it, but we worked hard for it, and you contributed too!"

Bakugou felt his ears get hot at that. The compliment caught him off guard, and he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

"I know you're not the best with people from your interviews and whatnot, but you're great at rescue missions. I have a spare janitor's uniform in the back and two trash bags. I left my personal stuff in a cabinet and—" You turned around, fishing a small key out of your top, then turned back to see Bakugou’s face tilted toward the ceiling, clearly trying to give you some privacy.

"Hey, don't leave yourself exposed," you said, your voice firm but with a hint of a smile. "But I need my personal stuff. I ran here after the station, and I had my day job's crap on me. You’ll basically pretend to take out the trash, but one bag will be me and my stuff, and the other will be the money."

Bakugou lowered his gaze back to you, processing your plan. Before he could get a full sentence out, the door burst open with a loud crash.

You both whipped around to see a large, burly man standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. It was Big Ricky, one of the club’s enforcers, and the menacing aura he gave off was enough to make anyone’s blood run cold.

Bakugou instinctively stepped in front of you, his posture tense, ready for a fight. "What's your problem, asshole?" Bakugou growled, his voice low and dangerous, already on edge from everything that had happened tonight.

Big Ricky’s eyes flicked between the two of you, clearly sizing up the situation. “Boss wants to see you, princess,” he sneered, ignoring Bakugou’s question entirely and focusing on you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the plan you’d just formulated now hanging by a thread. You knew you didn’t have much time before everything went sideways.

“We were just heading that way,” you said, trying to sound calm, even as your mind raced for a way out. You gave Bakugou a quick glance, hoping he’d catch on to what you were about to do.

Bakugou’s eyes flashed with understanding. “Yeah, but we need to make a stop first. Girl’s got some stuff to pick up,” he said, his tone cold and authoritative, daring Big Ricky to challenge him.

Ricky hesitated, clearly not expecting Bakugou to be so bold. “Boss didn’t say anything about that,” he said, though there was uncertainty in his voice now.

“Then the boss can wait,” Bakugou shot back, his voice firm.

Bakugou didn’t miss a beat. As Big Ricky continued to size the two of you up, he scoffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest with a dramatic flair that surprised even you.

“What the hell is this?” Bakugou barked, his tone dripping with indignation. “I drop stacks in this place every time I walk in, and this is how I’m treated? Like some fucking nobody?”

You turned to Bakugou, eyes wide, momentarily stunned by his performance. It was as if he’d smoked something strong and was high on his own dramatics. But then you caught the look in his eyes—a silent plea for you to play along.

Realizing what he needed, you quickly slipped into the role, your expression turning icy. “Is this how you treat your best customers?” you chimed in, crossing your arms and adding a touch of haughtiness to your voice. “I’d think twice before coming back here if this is how you run things.”

The two of you made such a ruckus that it wasn’t long before the boss himself, Yuji Tanaka, appeared in the doorway. His expression was one of irritation mixed with curiosity as he took in the scene before him.

“What’s going on here?” Tanaka demanded, his gaze flicking between you, Bakugou, and Big Ricky.

“He says she owes him a lap dance or some shit,” Big Ricky muttered, trying to deflect the tension onto you.

Tanaka’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you feared he might see through the charade. But then he sighed, clearly more interested in keeping his high rollers happy than dealing with whatever drama was unfolding. “Fine,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “One dance, then baby doll has to take care of something for me. Clear?”

“Crystal,” you spat, glaring at Tanaka with enough venom to make it believable. As soon as the words left your mouth, the lights dimmed, and the door clicked shut behind the two of you.

“I better hear that music!” Tanaka’s voice echoed from the hallway, making your heart race even faster.

Swallowing hard, you rushed over to the speakers and plugged in your phone, quickly selecting Doja Cat’s “Streets” on loop. You knew those old geezers outside wouldn’t notice if it played twice, but three times? That was pushing it, and you couldn’t afford to test your luck tonight.

As the sultry beats filled the room, you turned back to Bakugou, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over you. This was supposed to be a distraction, but now it felt too real. You took a step closer to him, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart.

Bakugou’s red eyes were locked on you, intense and focused. You could see the gears turning in his head, questions swirling just beneath the surface.

“Before we do anything,” he began, his voice low and steady, “I’ve got some questions.”

You bit your lip, knowing that time was ticking away but also understanding that he needed answers to trust you fully. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. “Ask away.”

Bakugou didn’t waste a second. “What’s really going on here? You’ve got the boss breathing down your neck, you’ve got some shitty ex who’s out for blood, and now you’re dragging me into this mess. Why are you doing this?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “I didn’t want to involve anyone,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “But I’m out of options. All kinds of shit is going down and I’m stuck in the middle of it.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, letting you continue.

“I was trying to save enough to get out, to disappear for good. But then my ex found me, and everything went to hell. I don’t have a choice. I need to get my stuff, get the money we earned tonight, and get the hell out of here before they catch on.”

The raw honesty in your voice seemed to soften Bakugou’s expression, though his eyes still burned with determination. “And you think sneaking out in a fucking trash bag is gonna work?”

“It’s the best plan I’ve got,” you admitted, feeling a bit foolish as the words left your mouth. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly torn between the urgency of the situation and the questions still swirling in his mind.

“Alright, we’ll do it your way,” he finally said, his tone begrudging but resigned. “But don’t think this means I’m done asking questions.”

You managed a small smile, the tension between you easing just a fraction. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With the music filling the room and time running out, you hoped this dance wouldn’t be your last. And with Bakugou by your side, maybe—just maybe—you’d make it out of this mess alive.

Maybe.

As the door suddenly swung open, you didn’t have time to think. You instinctively threw yourself into Bakugou’s lap, catching him completely off guard. His arms reflexively wrapped around you as he tried to steady both of you. Nick, standing in the doorway, scowled at the sight.

“Hey, don’t get too handsy with the merchandise,” Nick sneered, his eyes narrowing at Bakugou.

You shot Nick a glare, brimming with defiance. “Close the door,” you demanded, your voice sharp and unwavering. You didn’t wait for him to respond, your body still pressed against Bakugou’s, your heart pounding against your ribs. Maybe it was adrenaline or desperation, but you decided to give Bakugou a dance anyway, hoping it would keep up the charade just long enough.

But before you could move, Bakugou’s hands were on your shoulders, gently pushing you back. “Stop,” he said, his voice low and firm. He sat you up on the table instead, his gaze locking with yours, something unreadable flickering behind his crimson eyes.

“What if you had someone to take care of you?” he asked suddenly, the words catching you off guard.

Your eyes widened at his question. A sense of dread washed over you, freezing you in place. “No,” you whispered, shaking your head slowly. You knew where this conversation could lead, and it terrified you. “No, I can’t let that happen again.”

Bakugou inhaled deeply, his chest rising as he tried to temper his frustration. He exhaled slowly, his breath matching yours without either of you realizing it. There was something painfully familiar in his expression—an understanding that only came from experience. He wasn’t just seeing you; he was seeing a reflection of his own struggles.

He glanced at your hands for a moment, noticing the slight tremor in them before wiping the sweat off his palms on his pants. “Look, I know you don’t trust the cops,” he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “And maybe you hate pro heroes too. But…”

“But?” you prompted, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

“God, I don’t know how to say this without it sounding shitty,” Bakugou muttered, the frustration evident in his tone.

“Then just spit it out,” you urged, your impatience growing with every second.

He sighed, clearly struggling with the right words, before reaching out to take your hands in his. You hesitated, then placed your palm flat against his, just like that night behind the glass. His hands were still larger than yours, strong and capable, enveloping both of your hands in one of his.

“Look, this isn’t how I wanted to do this, but… what if I gave you a job?”

You tilted your head, confusion flickering across your face. You’d heard of his agency with Red Riot. “Like hero work? Can’t do that right now, I’m afraid.”

He blinked, a storm brewing in his eyes. His irises, a deep, fiery red, seemed to hold a world of emotions—anger, frustration, determination, and something softer, something that made your heart skip a beat. His brows furrowed, casting shadows over those intense eyes that never left yours.

“No, I mean a desk job,” he clarified, his tone softer but still resolute. “Something simple, behind the scenes.”

You shook your head, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “I can’t do that either,” you said, your voice tinged with regret. “I had a meeting with my boss this morning… and I ran into my ex in the elevator. It’s all a mess.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched so tightly you could practically hear his teeth grinding. The muscles in his neck strained, tension radiating from his entire body. You were surprised he didn’t crack his jaw with how hard he was biting down.

“What about if I paid you to live with me?” he asked, his tone suddenly intense, like he was trying to push you toward an answer.

“Your apartment is cute, but it’s compromised. So is your little friends’ place. If they can’t find you again, they can’t release anything to the public. But I’m assuming he doesn’t want to let you go because you have something equally bad or worse on him that could end his career and put him in jail.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your response, but before he could react, you grabbed his face in your hands, holding it firmly. You stared deeply into his eyes, searching for something, anything, that would give you a reason to trust him. His eyes, those stormy, crimson orbs, were a whirlwind of emotions—strength, vulnerability, anger, and a fierce protectiveness that made you wonder if he could really be the one to save you.

The room seemed to hold its breath as you searched his gaze, trying to decide if you could trust this man who was offering to take you away from everything you’d known, who was willing to fight for you when you didn’t know if you could fight for yourself.

Bakugou didn’t flinch under your scrutiny. Instead, he let you see everything—the pain, the regret, the resolve. It was as if he was saying,

“I’m not perfect, but I’m here. I’ll be here.”

Fuck, that was a whole lot more than you ever had before.

“Let’s entertain the idea of me living with you. What did you have in mind?”

You could hear the door starting to rattle, and a wave of panic surged through you. Without a second thought, you pulled Bakugou’s face into your chest, shielding him from view. As you pressed him close, Ricky felt the sudden, sharp impact of your heel against Nick’s face, followed by another swift heel.

“Get out!” you shouted, your voice echoing with desperation. You snatched your heels back, glaring fiercely as you slammed the door shut and locked it. It wouldn’t hold for long, you knew, but it bought you a moment.

Bakugou, still flushed and bewildered, looked up at you with wide eyes. “What? First time?” you asked, noticing his shocked expression. His pupils were dilated, and he was trying to wipe the shock from his face, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

‘ Fuck, she does smell good, ’ he thought, his senses overwhelmed by the close contact. He nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. You walk back over to him,

“Mine too.”

You slid onto his lap, shifting slightly to test his reactions. “So, I live with you and then what? You have me all to yourself?” you teased, your voice a mix of temptation and challenge.

Bakugou shook his head quickly, his face turning even redder. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he said, his voice strained. “Do you always offer your personal home to civilians in trouble or am I just that special?”

“It’s just you,” he replied firmly, “Because I know I could protect you better than any of those other fuckers.”

You sat on his waist, starting to grind softly, feeling the tension in his body as he tried to keep control.Without warning, he lifts you up and places you back on the table, his movements abrupt but controlled.

“I’m not one of them, pretty,” he said, his voice low and intense. “You can’t hide behind that persona with me. Now, are you gonna keep being stubborn or—”

Before he could finish, you slapped him hard. The sting of the impact seemed to resonate through him, and to his surprise, tears welled up in his eyes. When did he become such a punk? You hit harder than his old hag. But as he looked at your flushed face, your tired eyes, he felt a pang of guilt and a rush of protectiveness.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. He was out of his depth, and it showed.

You started to move away, but Bakugou quickly grabbed your hand again. “No, really, I am. I’m not good at this shit. My mouth gets in the way. Look, is there anything I could do to prove myself to you?”

You swallowed hard, forcing your emotions back behind a blank expression. It pains him how easily you do that. “First, if we’re gonna do this, I’d rather do it like a sugar baby relationship. That would ironically make it easier for me right now. No sex.”

“None needed,” he confirmed quickly.

“Good. And no falling in love. Also, give me your hero license.”

Bakugou stiffened at that request, his eyes narrowing slightly. You could see the hesitance in his eyes. But before you could even react, he had already pressed the cool metal into your palm. You didn’t even see him open his wallet to retrieve it. You tuck it into your top and cross your arms.

“What's your condition?” you ask, your gaze steady as you looked up at him. With your heels off, you were shorter, and the fire in your eyes was even more apparent.

“You have to trust me,” he added, his tone firm.

“Trust isn’t given, it’s earned,” you said, your voice suspicious.

“Trust me, princess, I know that better than anyone else,” Bakugou replied. “But right now, I need you to trust me and to know I can trust you, or neither of us is going to make it out alive tonight.”

You bit your plump lip, staring deeply into his eyes, challenging him to prove his sincerity. Katsuki held your gaze, his eyes dark and intense, a silent battle of wills playing out between you.

He was right, now without the heels, you were even shorter than he thought and your eyes burned like a wildfire, like you were daring him, and Katsuki stares like he's daring you right back.

The raw honesty in his voice made you pause. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, meet yours with a steely determination. You feel the intensity of the moment, a palpable tension that crackles between you. Emotions flickering wildly within your chest and you feel like a dragon. The unspoken question lingers in the air:

‘What if you fuck me over?’

The tension in your body is visible as you weigh his words and your lack of options. Your gaze remains steady, daring him to prove himself, and Katsuki’s eyes meet yours with equal intensity, as if daring you to see past the angry facade.

“Deal?” he asked finally, his voice steady despite the tension.

“Deal,” you responded, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You both shook on it, a silent agreement sealed between you. Bakugou then scooped you up, carrying you as if you were weightless, and stood on the table. With a grunt of effort, he pushed the ceiling tiles aside, revealing the escape route.

“I hope this plan works,” you said, your voice filled with a mix of hope and anxiety.

“Me too,” Bakugou replied, his voice firm with determination.

As you both prepared to make your escape, the urgency of the situation was palpable. The night had been a whirlwind, and as you climbed through the opening, you could only hope that this risky plan would lead to safety.

"THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!"

"SHOOT THEM!"

BANG! BANG!

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 4 is here

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

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blackhairandbangs · 9 months

Text

A Little Inspiration

Bang Chan x Reader

info/masterlist

word count: 1.8K

genre: non-idol au, fluff?, cute flirty chan!!!, localmusician!chan

summary: after seeing each others open mic night performances, you and chan get together for a songwriting session

warnings: some kissing at the end, but thats really all! not proofread...

a/n: this fic came to be after the chan/jeongin 2 kids episode with black hole! that song makes an appearance in the fic:)

Every Sunday night you found yourself in the same place. For months, you and your band had been regulars at the open mic night held at a cozy downtown café. The stage, adorned with twinkling lights and a warm ambiance, served as the perfect backdrop for budding musicians like yourselves to showcase your talents.

Your group had performed a new concept last week, so today you were heading out just to take in the performances others had to offer. Upon entering the cafe, your nose is hit with the familiar scent of coffee and pastries. You glance around before finding an empty table on the side of the cafe that still gives you a good view of the stage where musicians have already been cycling through for the past hour. You tended to see a lot of familiar faces being a weekly regular, but the man who approached the stage was not one of them.

“Um…Hello everyone,” He spoke softly, tapping the mic to make sure it was on. “I’m Chris, you may know me online as CB97…” He trailed off, checking his phone to make sure his lyrics were all in order. This was a typical practice for the performers at the open mic night. Most of the time artists were there to test out brand new works, hoping to see how the audience reacts.

“This song is not yet titled, so if you get a vibe, come find me later on.” He seemed shy, and you wondered how that would translate to his music, but as the first few seconds of his beat came in, you couldn’t draw yourself away from his performance. His shy demeanor had completely vanished as he rapped with immense precision.

You tapped your foot to the beat, watching the way he existed up until the end of the song, his black fluffy hair bouncing as he moved with the rhythm. As he wrapped up, the cafe gave him a generous amount of applause. Thanking everyone, he left the stage to head to his table of friends. It was crazy to you that even coming here every week, that was your first time seeing him perform. Surely you would have remembered someone as talented as that.

As the night closed, you still found yourself drawn to him and his performance, offering glances up until you checked the time, grabbing your bag to head home. You got up to leave the cafe, not before turning back to offer one more glance at his table before heading into the breezy night and starting your walk back to your apartment.

“Hey,” You heard, jumping a little and turning around to greet the voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” He laughed.

“No, no it’s okay…”Your voice trailed off turning around to see the man you had been so impressed with.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who couldn't keep their eyes off me all night.”

Your cheeks flushed red, hearing such a bold comment.

“I-I’m sorry?” You spoke, a bit flustered at the confidence exuding from him. He was so shy before starting his song, you couldn't understand where this came from. He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, giving a small laugh.

“That was a bit forward,” He began. “I’m Chris.” He reaches his hand out and you take it in a quick handshake.

“Y/N,” You speak. “I really enjoyed your set tonight. Your original songs were unlike anything I’ve heard before.”

He offered you a small smile before going back to the shy person you saw before his performance. “Oh, really? Thanks, I appreciate it.” He twiddles his thumbs a bit before speaking up again, “I saw your band play last week, your vocals are insane.”

Your eyes go big. How could you have missed his presence the last time you took the stage? “Really? Thank you! We were just doing covers, it was nothing impressive.”

Chris gives a small laugh.

“Don’t put yourself down, it was amazing. Have you ever written an original?”

The real answer is yes. You had notebooks and paper scattered around your room all scribbled with notes in lyrics. You had written tons of songs, but the issue was that none of them felt genuine. Love songs pulled from your imagination, break up ballads based on stories your friends told. You had tons of ideas, but the stories weren’t real and therefore the songs never left the paper.

“I’ve definitely tried,” You look down, glancing between your shoes and the pavement you stood on. “Just don’t have much to pull from when it comes to… inspiration.”

Chris nods his head softly. Writing songs could be the most challenging thing if you have nowhere to pull ideas from.

“Well if you want to get together soon, maybe we could have a little song writing workshop? I’ve been doing this a while and I’d love to see what you have so far.” He pulls out his phone, reaching out to hand it to you.

“Put your number in, I’d really like to meet up sometime,” He offers you a warm smile as you type in your information.

Earlier in the week, you and Chris had made plans to meet at your apartment. You scrambled to clean up the mess of papers scattered on the floor of your living room from the small bout of musical inspiration that hit at 1am the night before. Right as you shuffled the last of the papers onto your coffee table, there was a small knock on your door. You took a deep breath, trying to contain your nerves as you opened the door to Chruis and his guitar.

“Thank you for having me over!” Chris gave a smile as you guided him into your living room. He looked around the decorations in your living room. A drum kit in the corner, guitars on the wall. He could only assume you were in charge of hosting band practices.

“Sorry about all the papers, I thought I had something last night, but…” You trail off as Chris takes a seat on your couch and starts shuffling through the papers on your coffee table. He hums to himself, attempting to sight read the notes you had scribbled down in a sleepy haze.

“Y/N, this is really good so far,” You walk around the table to take a seat next to him.

“You really think so? I can’t figure out a bridge… I don’t know, none of it feels genuine. I mean, how do you even write a song about something you know nothing about?” You quietly, the last part not meaning to come out. Chris furrows his brows, looking you up and down.

“What do you mean you know nothing about? You’ve never let yourself fall in love?”

You silently shake your head, hoping he would drop the topic. This is why you never let your songs go further than the papers you shoved under your bed. Chris grabs a pencil off the table and allows himself to sink more into the couch. He gives a small sigh, starting to finally understand you a bit more.

“Well let’s see what we can come up with,” He flips through the pages once more finding some lyrics to help you expand upon. “I really like where you were going with the star symbolism. The two stars represent our lovers, right?”

You nodded watching him chew the end of the pencil in his hand. He gives a small hum before scribbling something on the page. You glance over to see what he had written, inching yourself a little closer.

“You know, I read somewhere that when two stars collide, the gravity from both stars can create a black hole. Black holes draw you in, it’s like being drawn into your partner deeper and deeper, even if it’s not always perfect.” He picks up his guitar, strumming out one of the chords you had marked out on the page. “Let’s go from there, ya?”

You pick up your paper and sing along to the first few lyrics to give him a feel of the melody you had in mind.

“In the dark night sky, I feel the empty space”

You continue to sing along with his strumming until you reach the chorus where you found yourself stuck last night.

“That’s about where I lost any and all inspiration,” You say with a small laugh. “I was toying with something along the lines of falling in love but it all was sounding too cheesy.”

“I fall…” He starts. “I fall… I fall into you again, into your heart,”

Your eyes grow wide and you grab the other pencil on the table.

“Yes! That’s perfect!”

Chris puts his guitar down so he could focus more on the lyrics with you. He scoots himself just a bit closer to share the paper, your shoulders now touching.

“Keep going, what else?” He encourages.

You tap the pencil on your thigh, “I guess I can try something like ‘I fall into you again, into your heart. I just can’t pick myself up?”

Chris shakes his head a bit.

“That’s too easy, play with the metaphors a bit. What about that black hole, what else is going on in space?”

Your smile falls. You knew you were trying to take the easy way out with the lyrics, but that was all your mind could come up with. You can’t even remember the last time someone fell in love with you.

“I have zero inspiration, I can’t.”

Chris lifts his hand to your chin, turning you to look at him. His cold touch sends a shiver down your spine and a blush to your cheeks.

“I know you have it in you, you just need to find something to be inspired by.” He looks down at your lips before looking back in your eyes, waiting for a silent approval. You bring yourself closer, your faces only inches apart.

“I-I fall into you again, into your heart,” you started to speak out the lyrics Chris had written before he closed the gap, joining your lips together. He snakes his hands down to touch your waist as you pull away slightly.

“Leaving myself to gravity,”

Chris places soft kisses on your jawline before bringing himself back up to your lips.

“I’m trapped in your space again, there’s nothing I can do…”

You deepen the kiss after letting him add on to the lyrics. You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck so there is virtually no space between you two. You could feel the spark between you two as your lips danced together. The space that tears apart the night sky, we can’t stop.

Chris breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, “Swirling up the vast emptiness, we will shine”

You smile, feeling something you don’t think you have ever felt before.

“I think we make a good songwriting team,” he laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He couldn't look away from the blush that deepened on your face. The way you looked mesmerized him the very first time he saw you perform.

“I think maybe we both just needed a little inspiration.”

a/n: happy new year my lovelies!! i hope you enjoyed some localmusician!chan :) this fic was honestly so self indulgent, i'm in a band and something about this whole situation just makes me melt my goodness!!!

send some asks and requests!! my inbox is lonely:(

#bangchan x reader #changbin x reader #felix x reader #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin x reader #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 months

Text

It's Honest Work (Masc!Reader x NB!Ghost)

Pairing: Masc!Reader x NB!Ghost

Genre: Modern, Crushes, Pining

Word Count: 3380 words

Warning: N/A

Summary: You’ve started noticing some oddities of the old library you work at, smaller incidents building up to stoke your suspicion. Unbeknownst to you, the presence is looking less to haunt, and more to help.

A/N: Not sure if this is dark academia, but I hope I did some pining justice! This prompt was just so cute.

Request: Oooh could I request a Drabble featuring a masc reader who cares for an old library accidentally discovering that there’s been a timid but sweet ghost (enby) floating around the library’s old halls who’d been staying hidden cause they didn’t want to frighten reader and leave them all alone, all with some heavy romantic tension and pining please? Feel free to add whatever extra details you want if you feel like it, I’m just craving some sweet and spooky dark academia romance :)

Day 1: I think the library might be haunted.

You look at the drying ink on the page, wondering if the three hours of sleep you got last night is getting to you.

It’s easy for your mind to wander in the library. Especially on nights like these, when no one wanders in for hours, when every slight noise echoes across the giant bookcases, when the dark corners seem full of monsters. It’s human instinct to grow wary, the deep-seated monkey-brain part of you on edge.

But this has been more than that. It's why you’ve decided to write stuff down, to catalog all the weird occurrences.

March 11th:

Books in the YA section have been reorganized methodically to the dewey decimal system. Supervisor complimented me on my thorough work, and I know I did not do that good of a job.

Air conditioner that has not worked for months sputtered to life this morning after I complained about the summer heat. No one has been able to figure out what happened.

You look at your list, those doubtful thoughts once again creeping into your mind. These really could be explained away as happenstance, pure coincidence, or another fault of your sluggish, sleep-deprived mind.

But you must push on. They may jot happen everyday, but these oddities have stuck out to you the past couple weeks. You’re hoping that by writing them down you’ll either see a pattern that ascribes logic to all of this, or see that there’s no connection at all and be assured it's just your own overreaction.

The rest of your shift goes relatively normally, nothing too odd occurring. You allow yourself to sink into the normal routine of sorting books, helping patrons and cleaning. It’s a nice rhythm and it’s hard not to feel peaceful in it.

Even with an extra pair of eyes watching you.

—

You must really love this new artist. With the library closed down for the night you don’t stop your humming, nor the shimmying of your shoulders and hips. You even walk with a slight bounce, headbanging to the heaviest parts. It’s enough of a distraction that you completely miss a book falling from your cart, nearly left behind as you trot into the new section. Luckily, Gene is able to grab it just as quickly and slot into the cart, right next to the other books of the same genre. You continue to bop, muttering some half-lyrics under your breath as you sort books.

Ah, they’re always so cute when they dance.

For an avid reader who died in a library, you'd think Gene would never be lacking in entertainment. And yet after ninety odd years, even Gene had to admit reading could be snore.

But then you showed up.

You, the vibrant, young librarian, just bursting with passion. Who took the extra time to recommend a series based on people’s tastes, who always volunteered to be the reader at kids reading circle, enthusiastically acting out each part. Who remembered each familiar face and what they had just finished and what they were hoping to read next.

If we had met when I was alive, would they remember me, too?

Just the thought of talking to you has Gene in a tailspin, hands throne over their translucent face as if they still blushed like before.

No way.

You were so you and they were so themselves. Even if they were alive, Gene would never have the courage to come up to you. Not with that radiant smile, or your laugh…

At first Gene and contented themselves just to watch you. Convince themselves you were the first new face in a while, all your coworkers being people in their 60’s who had worked at the library for 30+ years. That hearing you banter over the phone was like watching a sitcom, getting a snapshot into an idealized life.

But then you had a particularly bad day, nothing going to plan. Someone had screamed at you, your coffee had spilled the minute you stepped into the building, and your hair was acting strange. You had hidden in a storage closet and cried, and Gene felt their dead heart breaking all over again.

That was the day they started helping, in their own way. It was win-win, really. You had most of your inconveniences done away with, and Gene got to feel like they were actually interacting with you. Like you guys were friends.

Maybe more, one day.

Gene sighs, breath unneeded but the emotion too heavy not to. The watch as you bop down another aisle, doing a quick air-guitar in between the aisles.

It seems I might be in over my head.

—

Day 5: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!!!

After a whole week’s worth of observations, your fears have been confirmed, not assuaged.

Something weird is happening. Umbrella’s don’t just pop up when the weather takes an unexpected turn and you forget yours at home. Fridges don;’ just close when you forgetfully leave them open. But the most damning thing of all is-

Some kid spilled apple juice all over one of the tables today. Luckily no books were harmed, but I went to go get some paper towels while the mom rushed her kid to the bathroom. When I was back, the table was clean. No bystanders, no thrown out paper towels, nothing.

I work alone today.

Something is happening, even if it's not necessarily a bad thing. More of just an odd thing, in a guardian angel sort of way.

You’re not sure where to go from here. You had hoped this journal would lead you somewhere, some kind of resolution. But this half-answer gave you nothing but confusion. And maybe a little gratitude.

Maybe…you should just leave it alone. Let your angel do their magic, and take the extra generosity when you can.

You’re closing up for the day, headphones left in their case as you put away leftover books and move the carts around. Your ears are pricked for another person, a small part of you still convinced that there must be someone else hiding. The front entrance has already been locked, you’re in a bottle here.

Nothing, not a peep. Not even a kid who lost track of time reading and hasn’t realized the library was closed. It’s quiet, too quiet.

With all the closing tasks done, all your stuff shoved into your bag, you’re just about ready to go home. It’s a bit anticlimactic, and you start wondering if this ghost theory came from a need to spice up your life a bit.

Still, you can’t help the feeling…

Right before you turn off the lights, bag slung over your shoulder, you turn to the looming library.

“Um, I don’t know if anyone’s actually there, but I just wanted to say…uh…thank you. For helping me out. If that’s what you're doing, anyway. I guess I don’t know it’s for my benefit but…I appreciate it.”

Silence lingers, echoes off long stacks of books. No response.

You sigh, wondering what you were thinking in the first place. You flick off the lights, turn towards the door and start moving for your car keys.

“You’re welcome.”

Your body bag hits the ground with a thump as you nearly jump 2 feet in the air, heart kicked into overdrive. Eyes darting around, your blood pumps fast across your chest, neurons firing.

“Holy shit.” You hold out a hand like calming a wild predator, even though there’s still only empty space all around you.

That was real, you heard that. It had to be.

“H-hello?” Anyone there?

Like a Dickensian dream, the kind that has you rubbing your eyes and questioning your sanity, a half-see through apparition peaks its head from behind a bookshelf. If it weren’t for the faded apparation proving your initial ideas correct, the fact that they’re hovering 3 feet off the ground would have.

Oh my god, I was right.

“Hello.” A gentle voice whispers, the transatlantic accent already apparent. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” They tug at their long sleeves, eyes darting all over the place. The dumb expression of shock on your face probably isn’t helping.

“It’s no problem! I wasn’t scared…just surprised.” You rub the back of your neck, the beating of your heart slowing down just a bit. Of all the ghosts to meet in your lifetime, this one seemed pretty nice. “Um, I’m ____, Nice to meet you.” Taking a step forward, you hold out your hand, then pull it back, wondering if a bow would make more sense. Then you stop and think “That’s stupid”, and hold out your hand again.

God, even around dead people I am so awkward.

But it’s enough to make the ghost giggle, peeking out from behind the bookshelf. They hover over, laced shoes just barely touching the ground, and take your hand in a handshake

Touching their skin feels like touching a pile of feathers; A tickling of sensations that only last for a second, a vague imprint before it’s only air behind. It’s interesting, and less unnerving than you thought it would be.

“I’m Gene. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___. Officially.”

You nod along, brain still reeling from the revelations currently occurring.

Though their silhouette is partially transparent you can see the hints of color of their clothing. Some faded brown slacks, tucked into high socks and shoes. Their button up is loose and striped, not as pressed or finely cut as for a suit, but more for everyday. All in all it looks like an oufti you could see being worn by a hipster of today, or a particular dedicated historian.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I think I already know the answer, but, are you the one who's been helping me?”

Gene’s face goes dark, no blood flowing through their veins but their blush still apparent. They tuck a stray lock of hair behind their ear, twirling it nervously.

“Yes…that was me. I never meant to spook you, it’s just…” Gene yanks at the wayward hair, eyes still pointed to the ground. “...seemed right, to help around. I have been sort of free-loading here in the afterlife.”

You nod along, silently cheering that your mad hypothesis was correct after all.

“Well, thank you, again. It’s actually been really nice, someone having my back all this time.” You scratch the back of your neck. “How long have you been here, anyway?”

“About, 90-ish years, now? I can’t remember the exact day, just that it was a Sunday, and I had come here on my day off. I loved this place.” Gene looks all around at the library. It’s a mix of nostalgia and melancholy, a quiet resignation.

“And…it’s just been you? No other ghosts around?”

“Nope.” Gene sighs a nonexistent breath, rubbing the bridge of their nose. “Just me. Guess I’m only one to be foolish enough to die in a library. By a copy of Moby Dick, no less.”

“Oh.”

There’s a twisting in your gut, a primal sadness at the fact. The library was large, larger than most, but even you felt stifled after working a particularly long shift. There were some windows added in recent decades, but the old construction of the building meant little light often crept in. The tall bookcases didn’t help, making the place seem more cramped and constricting than it was. It was nice in bursts, but nine whole decades?

And they still found the time to help me out.

You had been planning on heading home and crashing, maybe vegging out in front of the TV before dragging yourself to bed. It feels too anticlimactic now, given how this night is going.

What to do? You don’t want to ask too many prying questions, even though you’re dying to know more about the afterlife. Feels a little too personal, even tasteless. Then again, you can’t just leave. Not after they made the effort to introduce themselves, and have been your guardian angel these past few weeks.

“What books do you like?”

Gene looks slightly taken aback, their brow furrowing.

“Uhm, a little bit of everything, I suppose. I’ve read just about everything here. But I guess if I had to choose….” That blush returns, coloring their cheeks a slightly darker hue. “...Mystery. I’m partial to Mystery novels..”

“Mystery, huh?” You tap your chin, thinking about the last shipment of books you got. “Any particular favorites?”

Gene’s see-through eyes somehow light up, their mouth quirking into a grin.

“Agatha Christie, oh for sure Agatha Christie. I actually-” Gene stutters over their words, suddenly sheepish, “-I was reading one of her books when it…” They look upward at the tall bookshelves, rubbing a non-existent bump on the back of their head, “...when it happened.” Gene shrugs their shoulders. “Guess I was too lost in thought.”

Well, at least they have good humor about it, it seems.

“Oh, she’s really good! I’ve only read the Murder of Roger Ackeroyd, but I remember loving it when I did.” The library training kicks in, the familiar Christie Christie Christie you had to shelve and the countless kids reading her for English class haunting you. “We have a pretty decent mystery collection, their on the-”

“Third row down, shelves 28-30?”

Gene’s hand point the same way, not even looking in the direction.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Force of habit.”

Gene’s cheeks darken again in a blush, waving their hands back and forth. “I-it’s no problem! I know this place a little too well, by now I've read about every mystery book it’s ever had. I think I’m stuck with that knowledge forever.”

You’re about to say something, maybe ask them more about the books, when the clock chimes.

It’s an old clock, installed up at the front back in the 70’s. It still chimes at every hour, little less useful now that everyone carries clocks in their pocket.

“My Apologies!” Gene blusters, floating form jerking a bit upright. “I’m keeping you so late, you’d probably be home by now if not for me.” Gene’s hands tug at their sleeves, which probably would be threadbare at this point if not for the fact they are incorporeal.

“It’s no problem! I don't live that far anyway. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I didn’t thank my savior properly?”

Gene averts their eyes, a small smile on their face. The bask in the praise, sinking into it like a warm blanket.

Cute.

The thought surprises even you, the apple of your cheeks feeling hot.

“Do you like movies?”

Gene eyebrow furrows, a small dimple on the side of their cheek. It’s a sign of their thinking, a small detail you’re slowly starting to pick up again.

“I enjoy them. I saw a couple when I was alive. Those and the few they put on here, sometimes.”

Ahh, and those are few and far between. Most of them are stuffy documentaries or animated children's movies. Not that those are bad, per say, but it seems alongside everything else, Gene has been deprived of most other genres while trapped in the library.

An idea blossoms in your mind, locking the front door behind you and setting down your backpack.

“Gene, I think I found a way to pay back those kind deeds.”

“You don’t need to do that-”

“Nope, I’m gonna.” There’s almost a skip to your step as you hurry to the employee office, specifically the larger closet in the very back. It’s filled with all the stuff needed for those rare movie nights; blankets, pillows, foldable chairs for stability. You shove all of those into a big laundry basket, then gently fold the projector screen and tuck the projector on top of the soft pile.

Gene is in the same spot as before, puzzled as you bring out more and more things.

“And, of course.” You shake an old box of microwave popcorn. “No movie night is complete without this.” You ripe open the bag with some fanfare, popping it into the staff microwave before running back out.

“Movie night?” Gene tilts their head, reminding you too much of a puppy.

“Yeah!” You lay out the first blanket, setting some chairs up at all corners, then draping another blanket on top. “A wonderful modern soiree, The movie night is a classic occasion that everyone has to experience once in their life. Or, afterlife.”

The lights in the library are still slightly dimmed, only two flickering from when you were closing up. But they don’t seem as spooky as they did before, much more cozy.

Gene peaks their head in as you fluff up more pillows and blankets, using other chairs as supportive backs so the two of you can sit up.

You sit back on your legs, admiring your cozy masterpiece.

“Ta-da!”

Gene leans further in, feeling up the soft fleece and cotton. Their thumbs run circles over the fabric. It makes you wonder the last time they even laid in a bed, let alone wrapped themselves in the blanket.

“And I have just the movie too! You’re gonna love it.”

You prop the projector up on a seat covered in a thin sheet, shuffling out of the fort to hang up the projector on a nearby wall. By the time you’re turned around, you see Gene has curled themselves into the blanket fort, knees tucked into their chest, sitting on top of the blankets. You grab the now hot popcorn from the microwave, pour it into the large communal bowl, snag the nearby remote and join them, turning the device on and connecting it to your phone.

“Here, I got this just for ya.” You hand Gene a fleece blanket, a boldly decorated Lion King Merch blanket someone’s mom has donated too many years ago.

Gene takes it like it’s hot, holding it daintily in their hands.

“Oh, thank you.”

They lay it over their lap, smoothing out the wrinkles. Their back is ramrod straight.

“First rule of blanket fort, coziness comes first.” You quickie burrito yourself in blankets, settling the bowl in between you two.

Gene takes your hint, shoulders unlocking, knees untucking and splaying out in front of them. They daintily rest their nonexistent weight on the back of the pillow.

A familiar streaming site pops up on the director and your quick to search for your movie of choice.

“Knives out? I think I may have heard of this one.”

“Oh yeah, it was a huge hit. Really good mystery movie.”

You click play, hands shuffling through the bowl of popcorn and stuffing your mouth. You hold up the bowl for Gene.

Gene looks at the bowl, brows still crossed.

Wait a minute.

You struggle to swallow the handful of popcorn.

“Sorry…can you eat? I just realized, uh-”

A translucent hand shifts around the popcorn, moving it just like a corporeal one would. Gene lifts it up, just as surprised as you are that they can hold it.

“I don’t need to eat. But I guess I never tried to before. Never too many options.”

Gene daintily pops a popcorn into their mouth, mouth chewing in slow motion. 9 decades later, they're almost out of practice.

A dramatic swallow, and…

“Apparently I can.”

“Hell yeah.”

—

3/4th’s into the movie, your long shift finally hits you. It’s slow and gradual at first, Gene only noticing once your head hits their shoulder, a soft tap, half-of a sensation.

You’re still snuggled up into your blanket, the warmth of your body seeping into their half-one. Gene never realized how cold they were until they touched your hand earlier tonight. They had forgotten just how hot human bodies were.

But you don’t flinch away or shy from the cold breeze, snuggling deeper into the soft sensation, the weird texture of touching something half-way in this dimension.

If they still had a heart, Gene’s would surely be thumping wildly. So long they had wondered what it would be like, talking to you, doing things with you, touching you.

A stray hair falls onto your forehead. Gene brushes it away, goosebumps rolling down your neck. You look so cute like this, relaxed and in your element.

Maybe there could be something after all.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #ghost x reader #ghost

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hooked-on-elvis · 4 months

Text

"HOT DOG"

"THE DAY ELVIS BLEW HIS TOP!"

Elvis' photo shoot for "Loving You" (Paramount 1957)

youtube

Elvis Presley: Loving You album, released in June 1957

Written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller for Elvis' second movie score, "Hot Dog" was recorded at the Paramount Scoring Stage on mid-January 1957. According to Ernst Jorgensen in "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music", the song "lasted all of a minute and twelve seconds but took seventeen takes to record".

Recording it must have been tiring, but the hard work with this track wasn't over at the end of the recording session. It would follow to the filming of the movie (from January 21 to March 8, 1957).

(1) Elvis' during filming of "Loving You" (Early 1957). (2) Page from article for the Silver Screen magazine (1957)

HERE'S A LITTLE BIT OF HOW IT WAS FILMING THE COUNTRY FAIR SEQUENCE FOR "LOVING YOU" — THE "HOT DOG" PERFORMANCE — ACCORDING TO A 1957 MAGAZINE ARTICLE:

THE DAY ELVIS BLEW HIS TOP! When he's restrained by strict demand of movie-making, Elvis has got to explode somewhere, somehow - and explode he did! By Viola Swisher "Hot Dog!" That's how the lyrics go. Singing them, Elvis Presley spun into a forward lunge, one arm out-thrust, eyes afire. Hypnotized... hypnotizing. Hot dog? What did the words matter? Elvis exploded them as if some overwhelming earth force had hit him right in the heart. He hunched over to hug the sensation to himself. He swayed with the eternal rhythm of nature. Elvis was blazing through the action of his pre-recorded song "Hot Dog," featured in a country fair sequence of "Loving You," his new Hal Wallis picture for Paramount. Director [and co-writer] Hal Kanter called for a full rehearsal using about fifty extras bouncing and juggling to Presley's music at the fair. "All right" shouted an assistant. "Places, everybody." "Let's try it," Kanter nodded to the star. "Well, here's where I get censored," quietly commented Elvis in his understated, off-screen manner. But only a few alert ears caught the remark. He gave an experimental leg-quiver and looked at the director for an okay. Kanter shook his head in a pantomimed "no". What followed was a running series of dilutions, deletions and compromises for Elvis. Charles O'Curran, a top-rated dance director staging the routine, tried to make up some "typical Elvis Presley" action for the number. Only he kept getting nowhere. The more he struggled to gear the Presley-style to Hollywood's cameras, the more static and inhibited Elvis became. Things grew just a litle bit tense. Head lowered, the singer rolled his velvety eyes upward to level off at Charlie. Not a word exchanges. None was needed. Elvis remained quiet and courteous. No throwing his weight around. No acting big-big. Only his eyes making the polite plea: "Don't tell me how to do my stuff." Presley and O'Curran tried over and over again to get together on the routine. Elvis was aware of what he wanted, yet because it wasn't natural for him he couldn't get with it.

Excerpt from article on the Silver Screen magazine (1957 issue) , pg. 45.

More was written in this article about the filming of "Loving You", possibly something more about how the filming of the scene went on until the final result but I, unfortunately, haven't found the following pages online. I guess the most important story was told by this excerpt anyways. They got the scene. We know they did. I wonder tho how Charles O'Curran had imagined the number. What we see Elvis doing onscreen while singing "Hot Dog" is more Elvis acting like himself or something like Charles wanted him to look like?

Pictures of the outfit Elvis wore to perform "Hot Dog" and, below, the King performing the song in scene featured in his second movie, "Loving You" (1957).

youtube

Scene from movie "Loving You" (Paramount Pictures 1957), starring Elvis Presley, Lizabeth Scott and Wendell Corey. Directed by Hal Kanter. Screenplay by Herbert Baker and Hal Kanter. Story by Mary Agnes Thompson. Produced by Hal B. Wallis.

"HOT DOG" — LYRICS

Hot dog, you say you're really coming back Hot dog, I'm waiting at the railway track Hot dog, you say you're coming home for good Hot dog, I'm going to keep knocking on wood And baby, I can hardly wait I'm gonna meet you at the gate, hot dog I fell in love with you and then you went away But now you're coming home to stay Hot dog, soon everything will be all right Hot dog, we're gonna have a ball tonight I've got a pocketful of dimes It's gonna be just like old times, hot dog You went away and every day was misery But now you're coming back to me Hot dog, my heart is gonna go insane Hot dog, when you come walking off the train Oh how lonely I have been But when that Santa Fe pulls in Hot dog, baby, baby, hot dog

Lyrics by Jerry Leiber/Mike Stoller

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FURTHER INFO - WHAT DOES 'HOT DOG' MEAN?

I'm not American, and that's why I don't get slangs in English right away (and that's also why you'll find typos in my writing, sorry 'bout that). So, until this very moment, I never understood why the song was entitled "Hot Dog". I found it so silly... I thought about the food, not gonna lie, but I just googled the word and, in slang, it seems 'hot dog' can mean someone who's dangerous, a daredevil or something. So, the poetic persona in the song is calling out the lady for leaving him for a while. I guess that's it. Probably many already got it from the start (and if I got it wrong, please, correct me) but this note is here just in case someone needs an explanation. Oh, I also found an article about the meanings of "hot dog" as a slang, over the years. It's really interesting. Like I say, Elvis is always directly or indirectly teaching me something. Read more about the meanings for 'hot dog' here: today.com/food/hot-dog-meanings.

UPDATE - May 22, 2024: @thetaoofzoe and @lookingforrainbows helped us with this one. THANK YOU SO MUCH, BABIES. �� According to dear @thetaoofzoe, "I'm under the impression that 'hot dog' here means he's expressing delight or excitement about the girl coming back. Like a 'yay! I'm so excited'" and then I read @lookingforrainbows with: "hot dog in this case might mean ‘I’m so excited’. It was a saying in the 50s to mean something like ‘wow! that’s awesome’" -- There you go, friends! Solved!

#elvis presley #elvis history #elvis movies #loving you #1957 #elvis music #hot dog #elvis #elvis fandom #elvis fans #elvis the king #oh and... elvis is hot as fuck in loving you... just saying #Youtube

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chvnnie · 2 years

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Jisung is leaning so far off the bed, he could practically roll off it. His hands are shaking as he fumbles for the handle of the bedside table. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was he not as prepared as he thought? Are they in here?

SMUT - MINORS DNI

The drawer slides open so aggressively it almost comes off it’s track, the loud noise making you sit up on your elbows. Your best friend’s eyes are wide, chewing on his bottom lip nervously as papers and socks and empty pill bottles fly out of the bottomless pit.

“Ji, it’s okay-“

“No. No, it’s not.” His voice is wobbly, a bit of blood breaking from the thin skin of his lip. “I have some. Chan left them, and I-I put them in here for…this but this never happens and I don’t know where they-“

Sitting up fully, you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to still him. It works — whenever you touch him, it’s like every worry rolls right off of him. Problems don’t exist when the solution for everything (you) is around.

“Take a breath.” You say smoothly, voice like sweet wine and helping ease the tension only he feels. “This isn’t supposed to be stressful.”

You ease your best friend back onto the small bed. The sultry music playing lowly makes the room vibrate, bass bouncing in between your bodies to create a new rhythm with your heartbeats. Jisung lets you lead him, leaning against the pillows as you straddle him. Nails take down the bare skin of his arms, goosebumps rising immediately in your wake.

“I don’t-“ he swallows thickly, voice dry. Is it from the nerves, or the fact that his best friend, who’s he had a crush on since he was 7, is sitting in his lap wearing nothing but a lacy pink bra? Or is it the fact that he doesn’t even know how to touch you — everything he’s learned from porn flying right out the window the second you agreed to this. “-want to mess this up.”

You hum in acknowledgement, tracing your hands back up to cup his plush face. “That’s impossible, baby.” Nails now scraping the bruised lip, Jisung had to resist the urge to moan from the feather light touch. “Nothing could ruin this.”

“But the condoms-“

Without climbing off his lap, you lean off the bed, digging in your backpack until you find the strip of six you keep on you. For moments like this. The gold wrapping catches the purple LED lights, shining like the most precious jewel. Dropping the condoms between your bodies, you lean in until your lips are brushing his. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

His shaky hands find your hips, holding on as to try to steady himself. You make him dizzy, stomach fluttering with a sea of strong butterflies. Everything about you makes him sick with adoration; the smell of your perfume, your soft skin, the smell of peppermint schnapps on your breath (the shots were his idea to calm him down — they didn’t help). How can he possibly not worry when his favorite melody is in front of him, hoping he’ll make something beautiful out her?

But then your lips finally meet his, and nothing outside of the room exists.

You lead the kiss, giving Jisung time to get more comfortable. By the time your tongue is canvassing his mouth, he’s starting to feel better, hands creeping up your side as his own tongue starts to move along with yours. The deeper the kiss gets, the closer your body seems, chest pressed to his, hips settling over hips.

The shared groan you both release when your core rubs against his throbbing erection is better than any lyric he could ever write. Jisung can’t help but push his hips up, applying more pressure to bring more pleasure.

You break the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as you moan lightly in satisfaction. His rolls aren’t the most stable, a little too quick and eager, but they’re a wonder.

You’ve always enjoyed the faster tempos in music.

“I need you inside me.” Your whines are steady, meeting his rolls with your own. “I’ve waited too long to feel you. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Something has snapped in Jisung. Not pausing his movements, he fishes for a condom, tear one from the strip and opening it with his teeth. “Move back for me.”

Scooting back just enough for him to free his cock from his briefs, Jisung slides the latex down his length, spitting the wrapper out. A hand on the nape of your neck, he brings you in for another kiss. This isn’t as elegant as the others. More desperate, needy. The longer it takes for this song to play, the more antsy he gets.

You pull your panties to the side, not breaking the kiss as you position yourself above his cock. Then it’s happening; the new beat starts, sinking down on your best friend. Your favorite person.

Both your lips part, breathing in each other’s moans as you slide all the way down. Jisung’s head rolls back, hitting the concrete dorm wall. Your eyes are glued to where you meet, breaths heavy as you experiment with the rolls of your hips. Your best friend is chewing on his lip again, cursing with each slow move you make.

“Okay?” You ask, cupping his face and pulling his lip out of his teeth with your thumb.

He nods, not opening his eyes as you start to bounce steadily on his cock. “F-fuck-“

“You’re so fucking big, Ji.” You whisper, the slight whine in your voice hard to miss. “Fill me up so well, baby.”

His eyes finally open, and fuck. What a sight you are; flushed, sweating slightly as you smile at him. Your tits jiggle in your bra beautifully — better than he’s pictured when he beats off to the thought of you. His hands slide up your side, seeking out his cravings.

“Yeah?” He huffs, confidence building when you moans from the way he gropes you over your bra. “Do you like my cock, baby?”

“Y-yes-fuck-yes-“

“Good, because it’s all fucking yours.” He emphasizes his point by bucking his hips roughly. The dominance you’ve built crumbles, legs snapping around his own. “Made for you and this perfect-“ snap “fucking” snap “pussy.”

Over your bra, his thumbs brush your nipples. He never wants to forget the way that makes you twitch, repeating the action to see it again and again. Play the song on repeat, feel the steady music flow through your bodies and find a corner of the brain to stay stuck in.

Your walls clench his cock harder, making it nearly impossible to move as he feels you fall limp in his touch. Nails digging into his shoulders, you pick up the pace of your hips, eyes starting to cross as the lids flutter.

“Close?” He grunts, meeting you halfway with your own thrusts. There’s no reason you should be doing all the work — that’s what he’s for. Your pleasure is his responsibility, and goddamn it, he’s going to give you every ounce until you can’t fucking take it.

You nod, face scrunching as a particular thrust makes your jaw fall slack. “W-with me?”

He tries of songs. Skipping them whenever they come on his playlist, spacing out if it’s on the radio so he doesn’t have to focus on it. They fade out of importance, boring him to a point of emptiness.

But this song?

“Always.”

He’ll never tire of.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han smut #jisung smut #han jisung smut

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mari-writes · 5 months

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🦉🎵

Bokuto is surprised, but pleasantly so, when Akaashi invites him out to a concert.

The first year setter is quiet off the court. He spends most of his free time with his nose in a book or a mug of tea, and doesn’t really seem the type to be into live rock music.

“You don’t have to say yes,” Akaashi mutters, nervously pulling at his fingers. “I just… I know you enjoy listening to music. And I thought you might like this band. I really do, but I’ve never seen them perform. And my parents don’t want me to go alone, so…”

Bokuto smiles, oddly charmed at his friend’s awkwardness. He and Akaashi have been on the same team for the better part of a year, but he’s still learning more about him every day.

“I’d love to!”

They meet for the show at the train station. Bokuto spots him and calls out, waving both his arms as he jogs over. The first thing he notices is that Akaashi looks different in street clothes. He’s seen him in his school uniform, his volleyball kit and training attire, pajamas and even casual wear. But never like this.

Akaashi wears a pair of slim fit jeans, a long-sleeved shirt with the band’s logo on front, and a pair of suede ankle boots. His hair is styled slightly, and Bokuto does a double take when he spots a touch of black liner drawn onto his eyelids.

Bokuto feels a bit undressed in his joggers, t-shirt and zip-up hoodie. “You look nice,” he says, ears feeling strangely warm.

The club is already open when they arrive. The show is sold out, and hopeful fans converge at the entrance, trying to get in. It’s sort of chaotic, but eventually their tickets are scanned and they make it inside.

Finding a spot in the crowd is a challenge. Despite being tall, they keep getting jostled and blocked. Bokuto hovers an arm behind Akaashi, not quite touching but protecting his friend from sharp elbows and heavy feet.

“Wow, they’re popular, huh?” Bokuto can’t help but gape at the amount of people, all packed into such a small space.

Akaashi nods. “They might need to book a bigger venue next time…”

They enjoy the opening act, chatting in between the songs. Despite the crowd, Bokuto is happy to see Akaashi loosening up, relaxing. He seems to settle comfortably into the noisy environment.

He also looks excited. Very excited. He’s trying to hold back, but there’s this gleam in the boy’s eyes. A spark. He keeps eagerly glancing at the stage as the crew sets up for the headliner.

When the band finally comes out, Akaashi cheers, bouncing on his toes and clapping. Bokuto snorts and nudges him teasingly. Akaashi nudges back, and they both chuckle.

The band is great. They’re fun, energetic, but grounded in how they play together. The lyrics are a bit abstract and poetic, some of it going over Bokuto’s head, but that’s okay. He’ll ask Akaashi about it later.

Speaking of—Bokuto has a hard time concentrating on watching the band itself, as he keeps stealing glances at his friend, unable to look away for too long. Akaashi sings along to almost every song, face raw with emotion as he’s clearly moved by the lyrics.

The club’s lighting illuminates the boy’s profile, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and jawline. He jumps up and down during the fast songs, and then sways in place, eyes closed as if in a trance when the rhythms slow.

He’s sort of… beautiful. Captivating. Bokuto wonders absently if that’s a normal thing to think about a friend.

The band plays for nearly two hours, coming back for an encore before taking a long, grateful bow together at the front of the stage. Akaashi’s eyes look a little glassy as he claps so hard his palms redden.

“Did you have fun?” Bokuto asks once they make it out of the club. The streets are dark but lively, full of fans still buzzed from both alcohol and adrenaline.

Akaashi nods. “I did. Th-thank you for coming with me, Bokuto-san.”

“Hey hey, it was great!” He grins. “I’ll have to check out their albums!”

The train ride back is mostly quiet. Exhaustion—from the late hour, and standing/dancing for so long—is definitely catching up to them. Thank goodness it’s not a school night. Bokuto is unsure if he could’ve made it to morning practice.

Bokuto hops off at Akaashi’s stop and walks him home. His friend tries to stop him, of course, but he insists. The night they just had together… it felt different. Special. Something about it makes Bokuto want to prolong it for as long as possible.

“Here we are!” He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Have a good night, ‘kaashi!”

The boy nods, moving to leave, but then he hesitates. Bokuto watches curiously as his hands ball into fists at his sides. He takes a long, controlled breath, and turns back to Bokuto.

For a few moments they just stand there on Akaashi’s doorstep, a few paces apart, staring at each other. Bokuto wonders what he’s missing. Is Akaashi okay? Should he—

“Can… can I hug you, Bokuto-san?”

Akaashi’s voice is soft. Timid. So much so that Bokuto thinks he misheard. But no, the boy is looking at him eagerly, waiting with bated breath.

Bokuto smiles for perhaps the hundredth time that night, nods once, and opens his arms wide.

The hug is different than others they’ve shared, among teammates or after scoring a point. Akaashi’s long fingers dig into Bokuto’s back, and his nose burrows into his shoulder.

A profound sense of contentment washes over Bokuto as he returns the embrace. He feels warm. So warm. He catches a whiff of something pleasant—is it cologne, or just Akaashi himself?

When they do eventually part, Akaashi is quick to lower his gaze as he walks backward towards the house. “Good night, Bokuto-san,” he says politely. “Safe travels home.”

With that, the boy turns on his heel and hurries in through his front door. With a final click, the door closes and he’s gone.

Bokuto releases a shaky breath. He continues to gaze at the house, half expecting Akaashi to come back out and… do what? He’s not sure. Why does it feel like he’s still missing something?

He has to force himself to leave. He takes one last look at the house. His friend’s bedroom window is now illuminated by a soft glow, and he thinks he catches a glimpse of the boy’s silhouette within.

“G’night, ‘kaashi,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret. “Sweet dreams.”

Please appreciate how nervous Akaashi must’ve been asking his crush, his STAR, out to a concert. At the end he’s probably pacing his bedroom freaking out about the hug. 😅 Thanks for reading! Please comment/share if you enjoyed! It really helps me out. —Mari💕

#bokuaka #haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #fanfiction #my writing #haikyuu #akaboku #fanfic #drabble #ficlet

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ryuyejiho · 1 year

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"I never get enough, doll" - Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fingering, Orgasm control, Sex with stepbrother

Summary: Your stepbrother's daily dance rehearsals are finally starting to become unbearable. However, he instead of caring about your arguments, gives you a demonstration of his hot dance and teaches you the choreography.

Word Count: ~3k

________________________________

Once again I stood in front of the door to Hyunjin's room and pounded on it with all my strength with my fist. Finally when the music quieted down I wanted to leave but then the door opened

"can you get the fuck away from me?" I heard a voice behind me at which I turned around

"it's you at 1 am at night playing music so loud. Don't you have headphones or do you just want to piss me off" I replied equally upset

"You know very well that this is my job and I have to practice choreography and the fact that you moved here is not my fault. Just because you live here with your retarded father doesn't mean you can rule what I can and can't do" he raised his voice at me at which I laughed rudely

"It's not my fault I live here either because, believe it or not, I don't want to be here either. And you can postpone your bouncing and waving your arms to tomorrow and not stomp around at night" I rolled my eyes, turned around and entered my room closing the door with a big bang.

I had been hearing the same songs day after day for a month. Although I liked some of them at first but hearing them non-stop made me sick of them. I already knew all the lyrics to each of them, just as I began to distinguish the voices of the guys singing and rapping there even though I didn't know who they were.

Day or night, it didn't matter to him at all. Nonstop, the sounds of various songs were pouring out of his room. Sometimes even my own headphones didn't help and let the ambient sounds through, drowning out what I was listening to. The worst was going to bed when I must always have silence and quiet around me.

Same now, lying down under the covers just waiting for the music to start playing again and it did. Despite the fact that it was much quieter than before, I angrily got up from the bed again and started banging on the door of his room again. This time when he opened it there was a cocky smile on his face that was as annoying as it was hot.

This time he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, he was standing in front of me in just shorts from which you could perfectly see the outline of his muscles on his thighs.

"Okay, now I've done it on purpose for you to come" he said and pulled me deeper into the room.

"why did you want me to come? Did you want to hear me yell at you again?"

"No. I wanted you to watch. Since for you it's usually bouncing and waving your arms, I wanted to show you what real dancing looks like." he walked over to the phone that was lying on the dresser right next to the speaker and played a song I'd heard a million times before.

He stood in front of me and as the slow rhythm of the song came out of the speaker, he started swaying from side to side. I rolled my eyes and sat down more comfortably on his bed, which was twice the size of mine. Hearing the first words of the song sounding 'fake eyes open' I rolled my eyes again, thinking to myself how fitting it was for me in my current situation when I didn't want to watch the show.

But then when he began to move rapidly and confidently he made me slightly curious. His movements were sensual and powerful at the same time and his gaze was still on me.

His eyes suddenly turned from kind and friendly to slightly squinted and fearful. With every more violent movement, his eyebrows drew together.

After a while when he knelt close to me with his hands close to his face I momentarily became hot. I sat up straight feeling the familiar tingling between my legs and the sensation in my lower abdomen. He just smiled and when he stood up his movements became faster and even more powerful than before.

When he began to move his lips to the rhythm of the song's lyrics it occurred to me that this person who was singing in the song was he himself.

Then suddenly he sat down on the floor in front of me and when his hips lifted up and he ran his hand all over his torso, from crotch to throat I thought I was about to cum right here and now. I couldn't stop looking at him and biting and licking my lips.

I knew that he was awesomely handsome but not that sexy. I knew he knew how to dance but not that kind of dance.

All the time he was looking at me with such awesome sexy and scary eyes that I felt how wet I got. My gaze flew between his hand, hip movements, his face and his eyes.

When the song finally slowed down he again began to sway sensually from side to side, he then looked straight into my eyes with a slight smirk and when the room was silent he stood in the final position holding two fingers to his stoic lips.

His face and neck were wet with sweat, his breathing much quickened, and looking at him in such a state I myself began to breathe faster. I was speechless, but not wanting to know anything from me, or at least to create such an appearance, I decided to speak up

"and that was your dance that you practice so daily?" I laughed and sat more comfortably on the bed wanting to be more credible. However, being believable with all my panties wet was quite difficult. Hyunjin just laughed and walked over to the phone turning off the song that came on next.

"Do you think it's that easy?" he asked turning to face me and raising one eyebrow at which I shrugged my shoulders and nodded "then dance it. At least half as good as me."

"as if I only knew the steps..." again I shrugged my shoulders at which he came up to me, far too close for my current situation, and grabbing my hand he pulled me up.

"I'll teach you, not problem" he smiled and still holding my hand, began to rock his hips. I tried to look in a completely different direction but because of that I didn't even notice when he put his hand on my waist and turned my back to him. Then I saw that between the bed and the door stood a sizable mirror in which we were now reflected.

"it's not that difficult. I'll teach you a chorus and if you want more I'll teach you the whole choreo," he caught my hands in his and still standing behind me, lifted them up and directed how I should move them. At first they were the usual sort of hits in the air but after a while he suddenly turned me the other way so that for a moment I was face to face with him.

Then it only got worse, when he kept standing so close to me and holding my hands raising and lowering them every now and then I felt him rubbing against my butt. I thought it was normal after all, standing so close to each other, but as I felt him closer and closer it couldn't be normal anymore.

I wanted to move away holding on to the remnants of pride and dignity but I couldn't. I felt like I was hypnotized feeling his body so close to mine and how his hands held my wrists tightly.

"Sit down," he said in a low voice making me feel my legs yield.

"I'd love to," I replied quietly, more to myself, and sat down, which he did too but more next to me.

"Now repeat after me," I looked at him and seeing his stomach and thigh muscles tightening as he lifted his hips up made me weak. Then his hand went to his crotch and, as before, he moved it upward. From this position he smoothly moved to his knees and looked at me waiting for me to repeat his steps.

I, however, just sat and looked at him. I wasn't able to move an inch, still looking only at his shirtless torso and barely covered, muscular thighs. His forehead and neck were still wet from the earlier dance, my gaze focused on the drop of sweat that was now flying down his forehead and past his hairline. He, seeing my focus on his face, wiped the droplet away with the top of his hand and tilted his head to the side looking at me.

I looked into his eyes which were then even darker than they had always been, then he licked his lips and when I looked at them I had the urge to throw myself at him and bite into his lips. I involuntarily licked my lips which only occurred to me when he looked at them.

I saw that he was thinking about something and, taking a deep breath, he suddenly stood and approached me on his knees. Within a second he was over me as I lay down and with his lips he attacked mine. He kissed me like there was no tomorrow, very greedily and even insistently. But it was so fucking arousing that I felt like a million butterflies flying in my stomach again.

Feeling his hand on my waist, I put my hands on his broad shoulders and spread my legs more to have him closer. He, taking advantage of my moment of inattention, put his tongue between my lips and began to play with my tongue. Combined with his hips pushing against mine and feeling his hardness on my pubic crease, I began to moan directly into his mouth.

He chuckles between kisses and moved his hand to my breast. He began to massage and knead it every now and then teasing the nipple with his fingers. I was both angry and happy at the same time that I always slept without a bra, I was wearing just a satin T-shirt on the straps but I didn't even know that I would end up in his room, especially I would be lying down under him.

When he moved his kisses to my neck I began to scratch his back, I was impressed by how soft his skin was so I tried not to leave marks and scratches but hearing his barely audible moan when I ran my nails harder than before, I began to drive them hard into his skin and scratch him so as to leave as many marks as possible.

My fingers moved to his head and the long hair with which I began to play and pull. Especially when he sucked and nibbled the skin on my neck and cleavage, going lower and lower to my breasts. On my collarbone he stopped the longest and feeling how hard he bit into my skin I knew I was going to have a hickey there.

When he reached my T-shirt he literally ripped the fabric of it and pulled it off of me to immediately attack my right nipple with his lips which were now even plumper as a result of our hungry kissing.

I was now one big mess, lying there on the cold floor, pulling his hair when his sucking was too intense and all I was able to get out of myself were moans.

"Hyunjin... please," I whined as my clit became painful demanding any attention. He looked at me still holding my nipple in his mouth, to which I moaned again and when I pushed my hips up closer to his he understood what I meant.

Raising himself up to the height of my face with his right hand he ran his hand over my body from top to bottom, then again from bottom to top and stopping at my throat he embraced it with his slender fingers, looking into my eyes with an intense gaze.

Whenever I saw him talking to anyone, he was always smiling and his eyes resembled two moons or two dashes when he smiled. More than once I thought he was cute at the time. But now? His gaze was so intense and frightening that my body was going through chills and I didn't know myself if it was whether from fear or excitement.

I could feel him gripping my throat tighter and tighter and how I no longer had full access to air, but after a while he slid his hand back down. He rode it over my cleavage, my clavicles, between my breasts with his finger hooking over my already sensitive nipple from earlier sucking, my belly to the elastic of my sleep shorts.

He followed his hand with his eyes the whole way, his face serious and his breathing quick and deep. When his slender fingers went under the material of my shorts he noticed that I was not wearing any underwear and looked at me smiling gently. However, it wasn't the same smile I had talked about earlier, oh no.

Moving closer to my left breast, he put his hand deeper into my shorts and, looking at me, licked my nipple. Putting his finger between my libia, he put the nipple between his lips, still looking at me. Holding the nipple in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue, his finger teased my clit and entrance.

Finally, he began sucking on it while simultaneously inserting a single finger into my insides. All this time he never once broke eye contact with me until I threw my head back, hitting the floor with it.

His other hand he placed between my head and the floor and, sucking my nipple harder and harder, his finger moved up and down faster and faster. As I got closer and closer to coming, I moaned louder and louder. I didn't have to worry about anyone hearing me, we were alone in the big house after our parents went on vacation together and left us alone.

When I was already close and could feel the orgasm approaching me with great strides he stopped and pulled his hand from my shorts. He got up and stood up straight extending his hand to help me get up. When I stood next to him, he immediately attacked my mouth and kissing we walked closer to the bed.

Suddenly he moved away from me and pushed me backwards onto the mattress with all his strength. He stood over me and with a further serious look he grabbed my shorts and pulled them down pulling them off me. He threw them somewhere behind him after which he also pulled his own down along with his boxers throwing them in about the same place. He knelt over me and put his whole hand on my pussy, with his other hand propping himself up right next to my head. He began to rub my clit quickly, at which I reflexively began to moan loudly and arch my back.

I looked up at him forcing myself to open my eyes, he was kneeling over me all naked and his hard, straight, long cock was resting against his flat stomach. He raised his hand to my mouth and put his two fingers inside. I started sucking them as best I could which satisfied him because smirk after which he pulled them out of my mouth to immediately put them deep inside my pussy.

He started moving them suddenly and quickly for what I literally saw stars, after a while he stopped and grabbed my thighs to turn me with my back to him.

I arched my ass toward him when he forced me to kneel down, slapping my buttock with his whole hand and, standing with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, directed his cock at my entrance. He rubbed the tip all over my pussy a few times, which was an awesome feeling, and when after a while I heard the condom wrapper being ripped open I couldn't wait to feel him inside me.

Not even half a minute had passed when I felt him at my entrance again, I couldn't stand it and moved my hips back but he moved his own back and slaped my buttock hard again

"Not so fast, pretty doll" he laughed lightly which was even sexy and brought his tip closer to my entrance again. This time he pushed his hips gently forward entering me a few inches. I clenched my eyes and hands tightly on the quilt feeling a pleasantly painful stretch.

Hyunjin stepped out of me only to immediately enter me full length

"ahh f-fuck" I leaned my forehead against the mattress but he grabbed my hair and pulled me upwards. Having him deep inside me felt like he was even longer than how I saw him a moment ago.

He went in and out of me all the length, each time feeling him incredibly deep I arched my back. A few entrances later, he grabbed my hips and putting his foot further down on the bed, brought me even closer to him. He started moving his hips faster, much faster, and although he was now entering me halfway down his length I felt as blissful as ever.

Moment by moment he sped up and thrust harder and harder, moaning louder and louder which was so sexy that I again felt like I was going to come at any moment.

But then he slowed down and, now standing with both feet on the floor, he moved my hips so that now I took control. I tried to do it smoothly, but feeling so much pleasure was difficult. This was clearly not enough for Hyunjin and not long after, he pushed my hips forward so that I was lying on my stomach, spread my legs giving him access to my pussy and lay on my back. He kissed my shoulders while entering me and when he was all in, he raised himself up on his hands and began to move inside me.

Slowly at first but suddenly he quickened his pace and entered me incredibly fast and hard so that my body bounced off the mattress. We were in this position for quite a while, he was moving me all the time at the same pace but which slowly brought me to the edge.

He, probably feeling my pussy starting to tighten up on him, got out of me and rolled over onto my back holding my leg, which after a while he placed on his shoulder as he re-entered me with a loud and long moan.

He leaned over me and began to fuck me even faster and harder than before. I moaned even louder and flexed my body feeling every millimeter of him deep inside me, I held tightly to his shoulders digging my nails into his skin until he straightened up.

He placed my leg on the bed, his hands on my stomach and, pressing my body into the mattress, he renewed his movements. This time feeling my orgasm approaching I literally screamed his name, my whole body shaking and writhing through too much stimulation.

"Fuck Hyunjin, I'm coming," I exclaimed and arched my back as he started rubbing my clit, smirking. As I came, I clamped my legs over his hips and pulled him closer, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible. My pussy clenched so tightly on his cock that after a while I felt his thighs begin to shake, he leaned over me and, holding my hair tightly, came deep inside me.

His moan was much hotter than the earlier ones, much higher having a combination of pleasure and relief. He lay on top of me with all his weight as we breathed quickly, we tried to calm down so for a long while neither of us said anything.

Finally, when he breathed deeply, he get up and climbed out of me, pulled off the condom and threw it in the basket in the nightstand. Again he lay on top of me but this time with half of his body and, putting his face in the hollow of my neck, began to kiss it.

After a longer moment, his hand began to move down my side, hooking my breast, still kissing my neck but getting hungrier and hungrier

"you're so fucking sexy I can't stop myself" he muttered directly into my ear and slid his hand down to my pussy

"haven't you had enough yet?"

"I never get enough, doll".

________________________________

249 notes · View notes

hongthoven · 2 years

Text

Baby Came Home

Rockstar!Hongjoong x fem!reader (smut)

⁂ pairing : rockstar!hongjoong x fem! reader

⁂ warnings : strong language, explicit sex

⁂ one shot | words count : 5.7k

⁂ tags&stuff : rockstar!hongjoong, tattooed!hongjoong, pierced!hongjoong, smoker!hongjoong, oral sex (giving), cheating, rough sex, pet names, hand holding, feelings are getting caught because who the fuck wouldn't fall for rockstar!hj - not me, your honor

⁂ plot : you go to hongjoong every time your boyfriend is being a jerk - which happens a lot - so he can fuck the anger out of you, but things take an unexpected spin when you attend one of his shows and his brand new song seems to spill a little bit more than beans.

⁂ author's notes : this was requested by my one & only muse @hongjoongsmaid ♥ and directly inspired by The Neighbourood's song "Baby Came Home" (omg just like the title of this story? OUTSTANDING) so I suggest you listen to it while reading because nothing will beat the thought of rockstar!hongjoong screaming the lyrics directly at you, amiright?

Please- P L E A S E, if you like it, comment + reblog as tumblr's algorithm seems to be a lot more complicated and some fics aren't showing in the tags, which leads to writers getting less and less notes and tbh it's very sad :(

Of course, if you think it's shit, don't interact - I'll just go cry in a corner. All in all, thanks for reading ♥

“Joong— I’m— I’m close—”

You were nothing but a whimpering mess on top of him, both of your hands attached to his shoulders as he took it as a signal to increase his pace, his insatiable hips rocketing against you as your own rhythm became a lot messier, your ass bouncing mercilessly against his thighs as your race to climax came closer to the final line.

“Wait for me, doll” Hongjoong barely growled, one of his hands traveling from your tits to your throat while the other kept you still with a strong grip over your hip, taking the lead. You had no idea how long you’d been there, riding his cock through a blissful state, but anyone could tell it had been a while from both of your glistening chests and the redness of your skin from being held forcefully for too long.

“I—I c-c-can’t” Your jaw seemed to tighten from the overwhelming pleasure running through your flesh, every part of your body suddenly too sensitive under Hongjoong’s expert touch. Clenching your fingers into his skin, almost scratching his shoulders to the bones, you could feel your spine stiffening as you were about to clench around his throbbing member when Hongjoong suddenly lifted your hips with both hands, breaking contact.

“I said wait for me! Can’t you just do that?” He smirked as you almost clenched over nothing, hips jolting from losing the unbearable overstimulation of his cock while only whines and complaints seemed to escape your pouty lips.

“Look at you– so eager to be fucked” Hongjoong chuckled almost too proudly as he teasingly smacked his head against your clit, collecting a frustrated groan out of your mouth, the sound of your own wetness almost too embarrassing as you tried to push him back inside of you. You were so close to finishing you were convinced a single thrust would make you see stars, but unfortunately, Hongjoong wasn’t having it.

“You look so fucking beautiful, doll” He smiled, sincerely endeared while leaning forward to catch your lips between his, his greedy tongue finding yours immediately as he finally pushed your hips downwards to fill you up again. Moaning into his mouth, overwhelmed with the pressure of yet another first thrust, you snaked your arms behind his neck as he pushed himself up into a seating position, his cock finding a brand new angle into the dampness of your pulsating cunt.

It wasn’t long until you crashed on top of him, body convulsing and only squeals coming out of your tired lips as Hongjoong wrecked your insides with a couple more steady, powerful thrusts while painting your walls white through a long, throaty moan. Though you felt dizzy, the sight of his veiny neck abused from his desperate pleas forced you to attach your mouth to his skin, licking the mole on the right side of his throat a second before you collapsed into his arms, completely exhausted.

______________________________________________________________

“We need to stop doing this”

Hongjoong shifted into the sheets, lifting himself up to rest his back against the wall as he watched you getting dressed. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, your nervous hands buttoning up your shirt while your eyes were looking around for a sight of your panties as you heard him scoff behind your back.

“I’m serious, Joong!” You paused, sighing to yourself as you turned around to face the man whose lips were still printed all over your neck. You hated that he still looked this breathtaking right after fucking you into oblivion. Ruffled blond hair all over the place, tattooed chest coated with sweat and his thin hips barely covered by the white sheet he had creased into his fist to hide the way his exhausted cock was now resting flat between his thighs as he reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

“Could you not?” You frowned the minute he pinched a cig between his pink lips, raising both his eyebrows at your sudden mood swing.

“What? You’re afraid the smell of smoke may give him a hint? Darling, you look so fucked out even some blind guy down the streets could tell you’ve just been railed…” Hongjoong chuckled while lighting his cigarette. You watched as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head, filling his lungs with nicotine with a content smile upon his face.

“He knows something’s going on—” You added, suddenly more nervous as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, looking down your lap “I think he’s seen some of your texts…”

“Poor baby, do you want me to send him some care package or somethin’?”

Now he was getting a little too cocky for your liking. As much as you adored this man, you just couldn’t let him get away with that attitude.

“There’s no need to be an asshole about it, you know?” You snapped, reaching for his face to rip the cigarette off his mouth, dropping it in the glass of water you had left on the floor seconds before Hongjoong had bent you over the bed.

“I’m being an asshole about it? You’re the one always coming back to me so I can fuck the pain away everytime your boyfriend is being a jerk to you and still, I’m the one you wanna leave behind?” You couldn’t help but feel bad for a second as you caught a glimpse of sadness and anger passing through his entire face, his natural pout as the main character while his eyes seemed to look everywhere but directly at you.

“That’s all it was always supposed to be, Joong. Sex.”

“Bullshit” He snapped back, his eyes locking with yours this time.

“You know I’m right”

“Bull-shit” You could hear his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he moved towards you, the sheet drifting slightly to expose the thin lettering over his hip bone, your favorite tattoo of his.

“You think that’s what this is all about? Just sex? Read the fucking room, Y/N!”

Whether this was a confession or not, you felt terrible now, memories of the most precious moments spent with Hongjoong washing over you as your entire body started shivering under his touch the very second his palm pressed into your inner thigh.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you love him– Tell me you want this to stop”

His voice was softer now, composed, yet raspier than ever as all of his anger and frustration seemed to be caught in his throat, his eyes begging for the answer he was desperately waiting for.

“I love him”

Though it was merely half of a whispered confession, Hongjoong felt it like a dagger pushed right into his chest, ripping his heart apart. Still, his eyes remained locked with your, his gaze heavy with a thousand thoughts as his fingers pressed into your flesh a little harder, forcing a wince out of you.

“You’re a pitiful liar…” Hongjoong spat through the heaviest scoff, his smokey breath coating your skin with goosebumps as he pushed himself away from you, his back hitting the wall again with force while your insides seemed to twist with guilt. You hated to see him like this, hated to disappoint the only genuine support you had in a fucked-up situation and above anything, you hated the fact he was completely right.

Biting his black, painted nail out of spite, Hongjoong watched as you eventually lifted yourself up from the bed, gathering your coat and your handbag, ready to leave. Out of the many things you had in common, stubbornness was definitely the worst as it often led you both to stick to your positions, whether you were right or wrong, lacking communication in the moments you needed it the most.

“You still comin’ to the show on friday, right?” Hongjoong eventually asked, completely ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Yeah—yeah we’ll be there”

You couldn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes, his obvious disgust painted all over his face as you recalled the many times Hongjoong had told you just how much he hated to hear you speak as a “we” when referring to such a dysfunctional relationship.

Hopping on one foot to zip up your ankle boot, you gave him one last look, once again stunned at the way your heart would still skip a beat at the sight of this man. The complete opposite of the one you called your boyfriend. Hongjoong was the archetype of a rockstar, every single one of his features dripping with lust and temptation. From his nose ring to the thin silver cross dangling from his earlobe or the now slightly smudged eye-liner making his cat eyes pop out of his perfect face, you often found pride in the fact he could get any girl, boy and their cousins into his bed but still chose you at the end of the day. There wasn’t a single time where Hongjoong had failed to answer your calls and even today, when he was so impossibly busy recording a new album in his studio, there wasn’t a glimpse of hesitation as soon as he had seen your name flashing upon his phone screen.

Consumed with guilt, you crawled back into bed to kiss him goodbye, every inch of your body trying not to brush his bare skin as you knew just how a single touch was enough for you to roll back into a filthy routine with the firmly established best fuck you ever had. While he wasn’t even trying to hide his bitterness, Hongjoong still allowed you to peck the corner of his lips just once without a flinch on his side - but as you were about to hop back into your feet and call it a day, you felt the strong grip of his hand behind your neck, pulling you back against his lips as his tongue was quick to find yours through a desperate, heavy kiss.

“What a waste of a fucking perfect mouth” Hongjoong growled, your bottom lip throbbing from being abruptly pulled, his teeth nibbling at it like he was trying to suck the venom out of a bee sting until he was fully satisfied with the puzzled look on your face. You hated the way he looked at you and made you feel like the only girl left in the world, hated the fact your entire body craved him again and how he only seemed to be the only one making you clench over a simple kiss and how he had definitely ruined sex with your own boyfriend but still, as your eyes locked once again, you couldn’t deny just how much you adored him. Regardless of the conflicted, unbalanced relationship you two had, Hongjoong still remained your favorite, go-to person.

Whether it was out of pride or the heartache of pulling apart, both of you failed to say a word as you quietly straightened yourself, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you escaped Hongjoong’s apartment at dusk.

The walk back to your own place felt different this time, wrapped into your coat where Hongjoong’s strong signature scent remained all over you, the coldness of an early night hit you by surprise, but it was nothing compared to the sudden realization of your feelings for the man you had left behind.

______________________________________________________________

Even a long bath wasn’t enough to get you rid of Hongjoong’s perfume, the smell of him so intense it felt like he had crawled under your skin to nest here forever and while you hated to admit it, there was something comforting about it, like having him around all the time made you safe and above anything, loved.

Sheathed in the warm, bubbly water, you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute, head still buzzing with the chaos of your thoughts. Without a fail, Hongjoong’s face was the first thing to come to your mind as you slowly drifted into daydream, the intensity of his gaze over your naked body making your skin burn like an ardent fire while your hand instinctively found its way between your thighs, ghosting the way Hongjoong loved to dominantly cup your pussy into his palm to make sure you knew who it belonged to.

Your fingers were quick to find your clit, rubbing it harshly to find the thrill you only seemed to find while locked into Hongjoong’s chokehold as he made you squirt repeatedly into his greedy palm, the smirk on his face a sight for sore eyes as you could vividly contemplate the pride within himself as he made you cum over and over again, his name never leaving your lips. Curling your digits, you could feel just how sore you were from the way he had pounded into you mercilessly earlier, the pain as vivid as your insufferable need to have him inside of you still. Hongjoong was nowhere near a soft lover to you, mostly because you never allowed him to be. You had made it clear from day one : what you needed from him was pure, filthy sex, leading him to have you up against a wall or bent over the desk in his studio, most of the time still partly dressed, the rush of being filled always beyond any sort of patience.

Your free hand grasping the edge of the tub, body trembling from the rush of an umpteenth orgasm, you were left panting, dizzy, but above anything: missing Hongjoong’s touch more than ever.

When your boyfriend showed up at your door that night, you were definitely ready to call it a day, both your body and mind exhausted by the events. Still, you knew how he always came back crawling after a fight, begging for your forgiveness while you had washed away the anger by riding another’s man cock until your boyfriend was merely a dark spot in the perfect cloudless sky of your life.

Of course, he made love to you that night. The barbling mess of his pitiful excuses ending as soon as he started kissing your neck and calling you sweet pet names you used to love but now gave you the icks - and while you should have felt ashamed, as soon as he thrust himself into you, Hongjoong’s face was the only thing you could see, his perfect frame towering over you, his typical smirk sending you over the edge quicker than ever as you bit the inside of your cheek not to moan his name out loud.

______________________________________________________________

Friday came quicker than you thought, the entire week passing by without talking to Hongjoong as you tried to keep the broken pieces of your life together by being a good girlfriend to your partner, ignoring the fact you no longer felt anything whenever he kissed you, his name on your phone screen only making you roll your eyes in despair.

You were ready to flip your phone so the screen would face your desk as it started buzzing with a new text, thinking it was probably your boyfriend confirming the time and place you two should meet later that night. You knew he wasn’t too happy about your evening’s plans, his passive-aggressiveness definitely increasing as the days went by while he probably hoped you’d change your mind about going to the show at all, but you weren’t having any of it. To be completely honest, the prospect of seeing Hongjoong again after days of absolute silence was the only thing sparing you from a proper mental breakdown. You missed him more than you would ever admit and when your eyes caught a glimpse of his name on your phone screen, there was no point denying the way your heart skipped a bit, your insides doing backflips as you opened his text.

from: joong ♥ still on for tonight? got a new song, can’t wait for you to hear it.

Part of you was sad not to see his typical flirting tone, his text almost too formal when he usually loved to play with your nerves and send you the most inappropriate things at the worst possible times. You had lost count of his random sexting and obscene selfies while he knew you were stuck in a major meeting at work, surrounded by your entire hierarchy and definitely not in the best situation to enjoy the sight of his veiny hand tucked into his jeans, the obviousness of his bulge making you clench in silence. While it shouldn’t come as a surprise from an actual rockstar, Hongjoong’s unapologetic slutiness still left you baffled most of the time.

You were quick to reply, your urge to sound busy definitely gone at the mere thought of a well-needed catch up. from: youcan’t wait to hear it ! any dress code? x

While he stammered through the days as the absolute rock legend he was, arrogance of a king barely masked behind the audacity of a typical “I don’t give a fuck” attitude, Hongjoong still had a major fashion sense and would never get caught wearing the same outfit twice. On many occasions, he had even dared to flag a couple of your fits as outmoded, the disgusted look on his face speaking a thousand words - and while you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions most of the time, you inevitably seeked Hongjoong’s approval, his praises fueling your pride in a way only he knew how.

from: joong ♥ well you know how I like your bare cunt but dickface would cry about it.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he never missed an occasion to diss your boyfriend while rubbing your thighs together instinctively. The chokehold this man had on you was ridiculous at this point.

from: youthat’s not very nice.

from: joong ♥ you don’t want me to be nice, doll.

Chuckling into your palm, you could feel your entire face burning from all the flirting, once again a mere puddle of feels cupped into this man’s hands. The pet name sent you over the edge, your leg crossing above the other as you seeked for any sort of friction now that Hongjoong had unexpectedly lit that fire inside of you. Still, you had work to do and a couple hours ahead before the show. You couldn’t just concede to the filth of your thoughts just now.

from: you see you tonight, joong.

from: joong ♥ see u, doll

As you bit your bottom lip to refrain a well-needed moan, you knew your day was ruined already but now you also dreaded the moment you would see Hongjoong again, not trusting yourself in the same room as your boyfriend while your entire body craved another man.

_____________________________________________________________

The venue was packed- not that it was a surprise. While Hongjoong was still a superstar on the rise, his popularity had reached its peak lately with the release of a couple hit songs, his impeccable visuals and incredible writing skills making him an artist whose career was definitely taking a spin in the toughness of the current music industry.

Obviously, Hongjoong had hooked you up with the nicest seats in the room, giving you the most perfect overlook at the crowd in the standing pit as you stood front row in the balcony, directly at the side of the stage making it easy for him to interact directly with you while you hoped he would behave for the sake of your mental strength.

As your boyfriend made his way through the seat rows with two pints of beer, holding his arms up in the air to make sure he wouldn’t spill any, you smiled in content, loving the buzz of a pre-show as you recognized Hongjoong’s familiar music taste in the playlist hyping the crowd before his big entrance while trying your best to ignore the fact he had fucked you to a couple of these songs before.

For a brief second, you thought to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad to travel around the country and follow him on tour, the thrill of a sleepless night in a tour bus definitely getting you to clench over nothing while surrounded by a raging crowd who you knew was probably just as aroused by that man - the only difference was that you were lucky enough to know what his dick tasted like.

You felt your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist as soon as the lights went off, the crowd screaming at the mere sound of drums and you knew from his tight grip that it was nothing but him marking his territory, probably wishing Hongjoong would catch a glimpse of you two loved up in the front row. But to your own surprise, Hongjoong wasn’t the attention seeker you expected him to be, sticking to a couple glimpses every now and then, his smile inevitably widening at the sight of you wearing the cropped oversized Givenchy t-shirt he had bought for you a week ago, not missing the opportunity to let you know how great your tits would look without a bra in that crop cut. Obviously, you had failed to let your boyfriend know about your bare breast, keeping this detail as a dirty little secret between you and Hongjoong.

It wasn’t until he came back after a quick break in the middle of the show that your evening took a dramatic spin as Hongjoong grabbed the mic to face the crowd, making an announcement.

“I’m gonna play the next song for the first time ever for you guys— I wrote it just a couple days ago so it might sound a little rough…. Then again, you know I like it rough, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the raunchy comment, fascinated with the way he always knew how to entertain a crowd and make it his. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find his attitude amusing as he scoffed his bitterness directly into your ear before taking a long sip of his beer, his arm tightly wrapped around your neck.

“The song’s called Baby Came Home and it’s about a girl who rides my dick like no one”

Your heart jumped off your chest as soon as Hongjoong locked eyes with you, his mischievous smile growing bigger as every color seemed to fade away from your face, blood only rushing to your brain as the dizziness took over to the beat of the song. You could feel your boyfriend’s body stiffening at the sight of Hongjoong, watching him flirt with the mic stand as he hummed the lyrics in the most sensual way, the explicit filthiness of his thoughts pretty obvious for everyone in the crowd to see.

Baby came home today

Told me to stay away

She told me her man was afraid

Told me I better behave

Walking to the side of the stage, Hongjoong looked up directly into your eyes, his smile tucked in the corner of his lips as he raised an eyebrow in a taunting way, his tongue poking in the inside of his cheek while he pretended to choke himself with his black, painted nails, grazing his skin in a very specific way that purposely reminded you of the way you loved to scratch his neck whenever he filled you up to the brim.

Thinking about her

She's gone all the time

I think if you found her

That even you would know she's mine

Jumping on top of one of the guitar amps so he would stand directly at your level, Hongjoong never paid attention to the rest of the crowd anymore, his eyes bouncing from yours to your boyfriend’s, finding pride in the way he seemed to be more and more furious with every word coming out of his mouth. Now if the lyrics weren’t enough, Hongjoong’s attitude was beyond any decency as he started to stutter the lyrics through a moan, body rolling against his own palm as he grabbed a handful of himself while keeping his gaze locked on you, knowing just how your body would react at the sight of him- and while you were definitely forced into the most awkward situation between your lover and boyfriend, you couldn’t deny just how wet his whole performance had gotten you already.

Baby came home today

Told me to stay away

Told me her man was afraid

Told me I better behave

Petrified, you watched as Hongjoong smirked at your boyfriend, flipping him off with his tongue out in the most provocative way you could think of. You didn’t know exactly when he had stopped hugging you from behind but it’s only when Hongjoong dared to come closer, leaning forward to scream the very last part of the song that you realized he was already gone. Resting backwards with his back tilted in your direction and the back of his head against the edge of the balcony, Hongjoong closed his eyes, screaming the lyrics with his entire heart and soul, the violence of his words matching the hectic beating of your own heart into your chest.

She's mine, she's mine

That girl is mine, she's MINE.

Out of breath, you felt suddenly exposed as the entire venue seemed to look at you like the main character in the story now that Hongjoong had failed to be discreet about it. Wrapping your own arms around yourself, you gave him a cold stare as he blew you a kiss, going back to the center of the stage like nothing happened. Alone and distraught, you missed the rest of the show, completely lost in your own thoughts, wrapped into a smokey haze from the stage and the awful smell of the beer your boyfriend had spilled on his way out.

______________________________________________________________

“Are you out of your FUCKING mind?” you spat as you barged into the backstage room, directly aiming at Hongjoong as he was resting on the couch with one of his feet up the coffee table, his top already off his bare, sweaty chest.

“Didn’t like my little homage, doll?” He smirked, obviously proud of his move as he waved his hand into the air, motioning for his bandmates to leave the room and give you privacy.

“Oh they can stay– you made a complete fool of me in front of an audience, I can slap the shit out of you in front of your band, can’t I?”

“Trust me, doll, you don’t want them to stay…” He was standing now, walking directly into your direction, his black, glittery eye-shadow melting with sweat from a two hours show in an overheated venue. His blonde hair was all over the place but still, he looked absolutely stunning.

“Why’s that? Don’t want them to see you getting punched in the face?”

“No, doll…” he shook his head with a smile, his hands already framing your face as he slowly walked you towards the nearest wall, “I just don’t want any of them to see you with a mouthful of my cock” his tone almost turned into a growl as he chuckled so close to your face you could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting your lips with a foggy coat filled with lust.

“Fuck you, Hongjoong– you had no fucking right to do that!” You tried to push him away, your fist stammering against his chest as he kept you close still, his lips already attacking your neck as you found yourself locked between his body and the wall behind your back.

“Had to–” He barely groaned, nibbling at your neck “you didn’t know how to drop his pathetic ass— you should be fucking thankful” traveling his lips along your throat, Hongjoong purposely ignored your constant whining, his hands pushing past your top only to be delighted with the touch of your bare, erected nipples against his palms.

“No bra, uh?” He smiled, a little too proudly for your liking, “see, you’re not just a brat after all– sometimes you do listen to me”.

“Fuck off” You inevitably moaned as soon as his mouth found your tits, his viscious tongue darting against your nipple while his thumb toyed with the other. There was no point trying to fight any longer as your body failed to match your accusations. Pushing your hips against his growing bulge, your hands brushing through his hair as his started to suck on your breast through the most obscene sounds, you couldn’t help but moan under his touch, your thighs squeezed together so tightly you could almost feel your arousal spilling out of your crushed pussy.

“You know damn well he could never fuck you like I do” Hongjoong added, his eyes finding yours again as one of his hand pulled at your hair, tilting your head just enough to confirm his statement while the other was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of his zipper sounding like a blissful reward as your mouth inevitably started to water.

“Lost your tongue, doll?” He smiled, his hand abandoning his hardened cock to slip between your thighs forcefully, his middle finger immediately collecting a fair coat of your wetness and spreading it along your slit at a painfully slow pace.

“You can say you hated every part of it but your body says otherwise— I think you’d let me fuck you in front of that crowd if you had a chance… Let everyone see how I make this pussy mine, hmm?” His lips were back on yours again, nibbling, licking, biting until you caved and started to grind against his palm, wishing his fingers would slip inside of you already. Hongjoong definitely had a way with words that tickled your imagination in the best possible ways, and for a second, you were definitely kneeling on that stage, both of his hands holding your head still as he deepthroated you in front of a crowd, the painful mix of humiliation and exhibition kink taking its toll on you as your body instinctively slipped against the wall until you were down on your knees, eye-leveled with Hongjoong’s cock.

Without a word, you looked up to meet his gaze, finding pride in the way his lips curved into an O as soon as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, teasing his balls with the flat of your tongue until you started to drag your lips along his stiff cock, taking your time to coat him with saliva as you felt him groan behind his gritted teeth, his hands fiddling with your hair while you finally pushed his head past your lips, swallowing every inches of him until the bitter taste of precum hit the back of your throat.

While you loved to give him head, his cock a perfect fit for your trained jaw, you didn’t feel like going all the way today, a simple taste more than enough to get the fuel going as you popped him out of your lips before your knees even started to bruise against the carpeted floor. Luckily, as rough as Hongjoong could be as a lover, he was never the one forcing you into doing anything and while any other man could have kept you down until your face was plastered with cum, this one man you adored never complained about the throbbing hard-on you had left behind.

“Fuck, doll- you don’t even know how much I fucking adore you…” Hongjoong almost whispered through a kiss, unbothered by his own taste over his tongue as both of his hands found their way behind your thighs, lifting you up against the wall as your legs were left dangling above his veiny arms and wide open for him.

It only took a single, powerful thrust to make you scream his name, your back slamming forcefully against the wall as Hongjoong started to hammer himself into your soaking wet cunt, his throat vibrating against your shoulder as he growled out of complete bliss, loving the way you swallowed him entirely and the obscenity of your skin slapping together mixed with the thundering sound of your body crashing against the wall everytime he pinned you back into it. He was merciless, as usual, only this time there seemed to be something different, your heart skipping a beat the moment your legs attached behind his back so he could grab both of your hands, intertwining your fingers together as he kept it firmly against the wall while pounding at a brutal pace.

Panting heavily, pins and needles all over your legs, your eyes finally locked with his, his lips slightly red from sucking on your neck for too long as his face seemed painted with a newly found type of adoration, eyes filled with love as his mouth curved into a soft smile to match his decreasing pace. The longer you stared into each other's eyes, the softer Hongjoong seemed to become, his hips rolling slowly against you as he barely pulled out anymore, finding his peak in the way you seemed to keep him inside your warmth, never letting go. Tilting his head to the side, his mouth found yours one more time, his kiss a lot softer yet deeper this time, tongues rolling over each other as you both hummed in perfect euphoria.

Lifting you up and off the wall, Hongjoong made sure you were tightly attached to his hips as he walked you towards the couch, crashing his back against it while you straddled his lap, his cock never slipping out as you started to bounce slowly, enjoying every inch of him while his hands pushed your shirt past your shoulders, lips all over your shoulders, throat and chest.

“Fuck—Joong…” You moaned as soon as his lips smacked around your tit, pulling at it slightly while rolling his tongue over your erected nub, your back arching naturally into his palm as you could feel yourself getting closer to climax.

“I’m close” There you were again, whimpering into this man’s arms, cunt full of him, both of your hands framing his perfect face as your eyes dived into his soul while he drove you to the most blissful state, just like days before.

Only this time he didn’t ask for you to wait for him.

Both of you had already waited long enough to be there.

At last, you were home.

#hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #rockstar!hongjoong

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