#I lasted SO LITTLE TIME before starting to talk about language this is like record speed for me.

[poibynt]

Just finished HTTYD book 4 (I am relistening to the series completely out of order why not) & the Hysterics, specifically Norbert, clock Hiccup and Fishlegs as Hooligans pretty damn fast. This might just be assumption, seeing as Hooligans are the most likely people to be on the Island of Vilany since it neighbours Berk but that's not a total given. Not to fall into my forever habit of fleshing out and complicating fantasy settings to be more realistic but is there a possibility that different viking tribes have distinctive clothing which marks who they are, or maybe that they speak different dialects? Its been a while but I remember something about there being like 70 something words for rain 'in the Berk language' not Norse, in the first book (I think I could be wrong). Also, in 8 Hiccup says that Ugg runes are hard to read, thus meaning the Ugglythugs have a mildly different writing system to Hooligans (or...shit handwriting (carvewriting?) but also so does literally everyone in this series so). They have to all be speaking Norse since there's never any issues with communication throughout the series. Hiccup is shown to be a bit of a polyglot but other characters never seem to struggle to understand each other. However, it would make sense if different tribes have drifted away from the standard Norse that was likely spoken during the OG Wilderwest days enough to have distinctive accents or maybe mild dialects (like, tribes closer together who interact way more have kept in lingiustic lockstep so the Hooligans and Bogburglers have very similar vocab but just some different accents whereas the Hooligans and the Beserks would have less in common & their Norse would sound more dialectical to eachother) OR maybe the tribes have existed as distinct groups since before the Wilderwest unification/were created and maintained during that time period and to maintain a cohesive nation (what....the fuck did the OG Wilderwest look like actually? Like politically, how did it operate? That is a whole other post but I'm assuming there was some element of centralisation and unification seeing as how it's talked about in the series) standardised Norse grew in popularity but the original languages of the tribes still influenced speakers and fused with the standard Norse. Which would make sense with the 70+ Hooligan words for rain, since historically it seems like native names for flora, fauna and the natural world stick around since imposed or adopted languages often don't have replacement words for these things or don't need to rename all the birds or whatever. Idk, maybe Hooligans have really distinctive helmets! People who know more about linguistics than me feel free to muse, ponder and or contradict me.

[russellsppttemplates]

It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[latenightdaydreams]

Reader is trying to learn German, and König finds out. Its only right that he helps teach her Ja? Makes her say filthy things to him with her none the wiser.

Pervert!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, dirty talk, masturbation

1.1k word count

📱

.

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To say König has a crush on you would be an understatement. He’s more so…obsessed with you. No matter what is going on, König makes sure to keep an extra close eye on you. Always lingering near you during training exercises or sitting close in the mess hall.

Today, as he walks into the common room, he spots you sitting on the couch with your phone in your hand. He walks behind you, trying to get a peek at what you are up to. As his eyes land on your phone, he sees the little green language app owl icon in the corner and the German flag. A rush of excitement shoots through him. German? His mother tongue? How exciting!

Acting as casually as he can, he sits down next to you on the couch. You look up and smile at him before looking back at your phone. Not that you could see it, but König smiles back at you under his mask. He struggles to come up with a way to approach the topic, so he just decides to be direct like he always is.

“So, you’re learning German?”

You look back up from your phone and meet König’s gaze. “Yeah, I’ve been trying for a few months now. I just can’t keep the habit of logging on to do so.” Your voice carries a certain lightness to it that isn’t usually found on a military base.

“You know, I have extra time on my schedule. I could help you. German is my first language, after all.” König leans back into the couch, crossing his arms.

“Oh? I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” He’s the Colonel. Getting in his way is the last thing you want to do.

“No bother at all. It would be a pleasure to help. I love when people want to learn German.” His blue eyes gaze into yours, masking his hidden agenda behind a kind look.

“I would really appreciate that, Colonel. Thank you.”

“My office, tomorrow at 19:00.” König stands and walks away with that.

The next day, König sits at his desk, waiting eagerly for you to show up. His fingers tap on the solid wood desk before him as he watches the time. Two more minutes before he told you to appear. Where are you?

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. König perks up in his seat and looks towards the door. “Come in.” His voice carries to you on the other side of the door. You enter and see König appearing relaxed at his desk.

“Hello, Colonel.” You close the door behind you.

“You can just call me König since it’s just us.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and just holds it in his hand.

“Okay, König.” You say in a tone he can easily mistaken as flirting, and he did.

As you take a seat, his eyes follow every curve of your body. He watches the way you relax even in his presence; not something many do. Clearing his throat, he leans forward in his seat.

“So how much German would you say you know?”

“I can only say ‘hallo’ and ‘danke’.” You say with a small chuckle.

“So, you know nothing?” König laughs as he leans back. “Okay, I’ll start with some easy things.”

For the next twenty minutes he walks you through simple greetings, pulling out a pen and paper to write these down for you. He teaches you about umlauts and how they’re pronounced. Once he feels more comfortable, he looks down at his phone and unlocked the screen. The voice recording app is open and he hits record, placing his phone face down on the table.

“Now, let's put some of these words into sentences.” A sly smirk on his face underneath his mask. “Ich bin deine Hure.”

“Ich bin dein Hure.”

“Close, it’s deine. Try it again.”

“Ich bin deine Hure.” You say confidently, not knowing you just called yourself a whore.

“Gut, das ist gut!” He can feel his cock begin to tingle at the sound of you calling yourself a whore. “Once more before we move on.”

König relaxes in his chair as he listens to you say it loud and clear, perfectly too. He nods his head in approval. “Great. Now let’s say, ‘Bitte iss meine Muschi’.” He swallows hard as he waits.

“Bitte iss meine Muschi.” You repeat after him perfectly.

“Again.” His blue eyes are glued to your lips as you speak. He can’t help but to imagine them wrapped around his cock as you gag on him. He listens to you beg him to eat your pussy and its heaven. If only you really were begging.

“You’re doing very well, y/n. Your accent isn’t that bad either.”

You smile proudly at being complimented by your own Colonel on your German. “Thank you, König.”

“Ja, ja…of course. Let’s continue.” He shifts in his chair to ease the tension of his erection straining against his cargo pants. “Next is, ‘Ich liebe deinen Schwanz’.”

“Ich liebe deinen…Schwanz?” You struggle with the last word, a nervous giggle in your voice.

“Schwanz, you said it right. Now again.” His eyes follow your lips closely as you say it again. You really would love his cock if you gave him a chance. He’s never had a lover complain so far.

As you speak you watch König’s gaze lower to your chest and back up to your lips. You think nothing of it, and just assume he was simply looking at you, not checking you out. What you don’t see from where you sit is the giant tent in his pants and him biting his lip underneath the cover of his mask.

A half hour passes of him recording you saying depraved sexual things to König. He’s made you tell him that you have a tight pussy, sweet pussy, how much you’d love to fuck and suck him. By the time he ends the session, there is a wet patch on the olive-green fabric of his pants.

“Tomorrow, same time?” König asks as you stand, preparing to leave.

“That works for me.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

König watches as you leave his office, his eyes glued to your ass swaying until the door closes. He lifts his phone and stops the recording. In a rush he locks his office door, sitting back down and opening your file on the computer so he can have a visual. He undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. As he hits play, his eyes stay focused on your photo. A low moan leaves his lips as he strokes his cock, listening to you beg to suck it on his phone.

[kyuujo]

↳ screen time!

↳ michael kaiser x fem!reader ↳ nsfw ↳ voyeurism, slightly dubcon (reader is recorded without explicit knowledge), mutual masturbation (sort of), perv!kaiser, voyeur!kaiser, solo male masturbation, language, dirty talk, fantasies, sexual tension(ish), sexual pining, overstimulation, i think i got everything pls lmk if you catch something!

↳ 1.3k words

↳ uwaaah dahlings!! thank you guys so much for 106 followers!! it means so much to me! i’m so happy i can provide some entertainment to so many of you <333 it makes me so happy to do that TwT) this piece is actually a repost from my (deleted) blog, and i’m thinking it’ll be the last repost i do (idk why but reposting just feels weird to me T-T) but i hope you guys enjoy!! thank you so much for reading (im so sorry that this note was so long i had so much to yap about)

kaiser knew he was abusing a system that he shouldn’t even have knowledge of — but he simply couldn’t control himself.

the instant ness had clued him in on that little piece of information about the camera system, kaiser’s mind shifted straight to you; cute, quiet, shy little you. and ness, bless his soul, didn’t question kaiser even once when he requested (demanded) that ness find a way to hack into the secondary cameras hidden within the personal rooms of the facility.

kaiser wasn’t sure why jinpachi ego had felt the need to install such a security system, but he was deeply thankful for it.

because there would be no other way kaiser could ever witness this beautiful sight over and over again — you laid out across your bed, legs spread and fingers working over time plunging into your sloppy little cunt.

slick squelches and soft moans echoed through the earphones and traveled straight to kaiser’s dick, which was already hard and leaking despite only having started the recording less than a minute ago.

that was just the visceral effect you had on him; you could brick him up instantly with just a single glance in his direction.

and seeing you like this — oh, the effect was catastrophic. kaiser swears his dick has never been harder before, that he’s never felt so turned on and sensitive, each stroke of his hand down the shaft electrifying and borderline overwhelming — and when he ran the pad of his thumb along the tip to collect the dripping pre his whole body nearly convulsed.

it was amazing, satisfying, and yet so, so torturous. because at the moment, all kaiser could do was stare at your pretty cunt swallowing your fingers and imagine how it would feel for those velvet walls to be closing around his cock instead.

and suddenly, his hand just didn’t feel good enough anymore — kaiser imagined you must have felt the same way about your fingers, given the scrunch of your eyebrows and how desperate your movements were; it just wasn’t enough. you clearly needed something longer and thicker to fill you up.

and kaiser could do that for you — oh, how he would make you feel so good. he’d slide his cock in nice and slow so could you could feel him inch for inch, so you could enjoy that satisfying stretch it’d give your tight little pussy. he’d fuck into you recklessly in the same way you’re doing with your fingers while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear just to feel your walls flutter around him.

“so good, meine schöne rose,” kaiser whispered as he tightened his fingers around his cock, eyes zeroed in on your fingers sliding into that sweet nirvana between your legs. for a moment, kaiser could almost convince himself that he was buried inside your tight little pussy and not his own hand. “keep going. that’s it.”

kaiser’s breathing was quickly laboring, his abdomen twitching and tightening with every quick stroke of his hand. your soft moans and whimpers spurred that heat within his gut, and if he closed his eyes and focused, kaiser could feel your plump lips against his ear, honeyed voice begging him to fuck harder, to fuck you completely stupid, until all you could think about was his cock —

kaiser’s eyes snapped open when his ears were graced with a particularly loud moan from the earphones, and that liquid heat in his gut ramped up to a boiling point at the sight he was greeted with.

your other hand had abandoned its stationary place on your stomach and was now rubbing fast circles against your pretty clit in time with your thrusting fingers, and your whole body was trembling from the new stimulus. kaiser had seen this enough times to know exactly what was soon to come.

“oh, sweet girl.” kaiser murmured reverently, chest fluttering and hand picking up speed around his cock. “so fuckin’ pretty like that.”

and you were — you were so fucking breathtaking. eyes slipped shut and plump lips parted to release those sweet, sultry moans; fingers sliding into the prettiest folds and rubbing against the cutest clit; that perfect body trembling and shaking.

it was a vision of pure erotic perfection that was etched permanently into kaiser’s mind; a vision that he craves to see in person while he ravages you with his cock.

“c’mon, meine rose. you’re so close.” kaiser cooed, hand jacking his cock so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache — but there was no way he was going to slow down, not when you were both so close, hanging onto the precipice of pure rupture. his gut clenched almost painfully and his balls twitched, signaling the fast approach of his climax.

“i’m gonna cum, sweet girl. mmh — fuck, ah — you’re gonna make me cum — i’m coming —”

kaiser had to bring his other hand up and clamp his teeth around it to muffle the sounds that bubbled up in his throat. all it took was three more strokes and he was exploding, warm, sticky ropes shooting all the way up to his chest. kaiser couldn’t even control the moans that slipped out, nor could he control the way his hips jerked up to fuck his cock into his tight fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

your escalating moans seemed to add even more fuel to the fire, stretching out kaiser’s orgasm to the point that his cock became almost unbearably sensitive — but he kept pumping his fist slowly, keeping his cock alive as he reached forward with a shaky hand to restart the video.

“just once more, meine schöne rose. make me cum one more time.”

[millenianthemums]

chapter 3 of my fic is up! i actually posted it a week ago, but was too tired to finish the art until now… i might not actually be able to draw for every single chapter, but i still wanna try. we’ll see.

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First chapter

Mabel had become best friends with Tate McGucket’s new dog in under a week. She knew she would eventually, but still, that was record time. And with all the old friends she’d been tirelessly catching up with in her first few days back in Gravity Falls, she was both proud and preemptively exhausted to have added a new friend to the list already.

It helped that Scout Cottonball McGucket was the absolute sweetest puppy she’d ever met (a puppy that was taller than her on two legs was a puppy nonetheless). She was one of those huge fluffy white dogs– a Great Pyranese, Dipper had said– and her heart was just as soft and sweet and cuddly as the rest of her. Hence “Cottonball”, the unauthorized middle name Mabel had secretly given her. The plan was to get it to stick so well that by the time Tate found out about it, it would be impossible to get rid of it.

So when she cycled by the lake and saw Tate out in the rain that afternoon, and managed to wrangle out of him that Scout was missing , of course she was going to help look. Total no-brainer. Her search-and-rescue strategy of biking along the treeline at a snail pace while whistling and calling Scout’s name wasn’t exactly sophisticated, but before long she caught a lucky break. She started hearing a weird noise through the rain, a distant but piercing screech. At first she assumed it was a red fox or maybe a mountain lion screaming its head off somewhere in the woods, and tried to steer clear of it. But then a series of powerful barks joined it– Scout’s beautiful voice!-- and Mabel’s self-preservation fled. No way was some wailing overgrown house cat gonna hurt her new friend on her watch!

She swerved toward the noise, yelling for Scout, and soon a shape barrelled toward her out of the darkness. She was only terrified for a split second, but then she saw its wagging tail and leapt off her bike to give the dog a massive hug. Scout jumped and wagged and danced around joyfully as Mabel scrubbed her hands all through her thick coat. “You’re okay!” she cheered as Scout nuzzled her face. “We were all so worried, young lady… aww, I can’t stay mad at you! Maybe just– oof–” she shoved Scout’s massive paws off her shoulders and tried to wipe the muddy pawprints off her sweater before they soaked into the wool. “Maybe just settle down a little– whoa! Hey! Oh, you’re such a silly–”

“YOU.”

She recognized the voice right away. Part of her brain had never stopped hearing it. Her head turned toward it against her will, and standing there in the woods, staring her down, was exactly what she was most afraid to see.

Bill Cipher. The triangle guy who almost killed the entire world last time she’d been here. The monster who tricked her into helping him almost tear her family apart. The thing that had almost scared her into not coming back this year, into abandoning this place and the people she loved so much, out of fear that she’d somehow mess it all up again. The single worst thing that had ever happened to her. He was standing right in front of her. The streaks of mud and bruising, bloody gashes all over his face (body? surface?) made him look like he’d just clawed his way straight out of Hell, and the look in his eye seemed to say that he’d done it just to tear her apart with his bare hands.

She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Please, please let her be dreaming. Let her wake up…

Then he started talking, and she realized something was off.

“YYYOUUU DIDTHIISSSS,” was all she could really make out. He was saying lots more stuff, but the words were blurring together, so clumsy and slurred that it didn’t even sound like language. He started trying to walk toward her– walk , like on the ground , which she’d never seen him do in his triangle form. And he was barely managing it. Every raindrop that hit him seemed to be weighing him down as he approached, oozing blood— weird silver blood with an eye-melting rainbow sheen— from countless gashes on his arms and legs, and even between the brick things on his body/face. The finger gun he was holding out seemed like it was supposed to be aiming at her, but his whole arm was shaking more than the leaves in the summer storm. He trailed off speaking— the only other thing she’d caught was “I WON’T”— and his eye locked on her face. His eye was bloodshot, pink, shiny and sticky, like a wad of chewed gum. It looked horribly painful. Everything about him looked painful.

As she stared, his pupil shrank to a tiny point. His eye turned bright red, and the redness spread out into his bricks— scales?— like a fire burning behind drywall. For a second she thought he was about to turn into that giant crimson nightmare pyramid he’d shapeshifted into last year, and she almost turned and ran as he let out a scream and started to run at her…

…and fell on his face.

Mabel and Scout stood there, staring in silence, as Bill Cipher laid face-down and motionless in the mud. The woods were still filled with the low roar of rain, but somehow Mabel felt a heavy silence crushing her lungs.

Once her heart had stopped beating so fast, she risked a step toward him. Scout made a soft rumble of warning, but let her approach. Bill gave absolutely no sign that he knew she was there as she drew closer, until she was standing right beside him, close enough to see the gold scales on his back heaving rhythmically up and down. Slow, labored breathing. Had she ever seen him breathe before? She didn’t think he even did that. At least not normally. But from the looks of it, this was hardly a normal day for him. He really did look awful. One of his arms was a bloody mess, leather skin all ragged and torn. He probably had Scout to thank for that. She gave the dog an affectionate scratch behind her ear.

But the torn-up arm was far from his only injury. And she didn’t know how to tell health from illness in… whatever he was… but she was pretty sure he was usually a much brighter shade of yellow than this. He looked drained of color.

After several seconds of nothing happening, she noticed a big, durable-looking stick lying at the base of a nearby tree. She retrieved it, and after a few deep breaths and a bit of hyping herself up– “if he was gonna jump up and grab you he could have done it by now” -- she held out the stick and gave him a slight but purposeful nudge.

Nothing. He just barely twitched enough to show he was still alive. He was totally out cold.

She was getting concerned. That was a new experience, feeling concern for Bill. He’d done so much terrible stuff, but still… was she watching a man die? Or a triangle, rather? Was she about to see a triangle die?

A voice in the distance cut through the rain. Mabel jumped back and held the stick like a baseball bat on reflex. Then she recognized it, just as Scout’s tail started wagging. It was Tate McGucket’s voice. “Mabel? Scout? Is that you out there?”

“It’s us! Hi!” Mabel chirped, then realized her mistake. Leading Tate toward Bill would almost definitely end with somebody dying. And whoever it ended up being, she just really didn’t want to see that. With a few more quick, anxious nudges, she managed to shove Bill most of the way under a nearby bush just as Tate’s flashlight beam swept through the trees to find them. Scout took off running toward it and Mabel quickly followed, snagging the handlebars of her bike along the way. She arrived in time to see Tate grinning and ruffling Scout’s furry face as she stood with her paws on his chest. He looked up to see Mabel and quickly shoved the dog off him. “I keep tellin’ you not to jump like that, girl!” he said sternly.

“She must’ve run off chasing something,” Mabel offered as casually as possible. “But she ran up as soon as she heard me! She’s a good puppy!”

“Wish she minded me half that well,” he grumbled, patting Scout on the head. “Good on you for findin’ her, Mabel. I really can’t thank you enough–”

“You don’t have to thank me!” Mabel said, shooing the thought away with her hands. “I’m always happy to help out a friend!” Scout gave a quiet, appreciative “boof” as she scratched her ear.

“Let me drive you back home, then,” Tate said. “You shouldn’t be biking in this rain anyway. ‘Specially once it gets dark.”

Mabel shot an involuntary glance at the bushes behind her. If she left now, she might not find this same spot again. And if she lost track of Bill, if she went home not knowing if he was still out there somewhere, or if he might follow her…

“...Well, the others aren’t expecting me back ‘til eight,” she said slowly. That was true; she’d been out cycling well past sunset most nights since she and Dipper arrived. Ever since she’d gotten really into biking in the fall, she’d been eager to try out the trails in Gravity Falls, and now she was getting as much use out of them as she could. The Grunkles were cool with it. They both figured a girl who’d helped fight off a paranormal apocalypse could handle herself in the dark woods for an hour or two. And they were right, she thought proudly. She’d gotten really fast on her bike in the past few months. She could probably outspeed a grizzly bear with ease. Those guys were way too big and bulky to pedal well.

“Plus, I think the rain’s supposed to let up soon,” she continued. “Would it be okay if I just hung around the bait shop for a little bit, and then biked home after?”

“Sure thing,” Tate said, looking grateful for something to offer. “I’ll tell the missus to put some tea on. Scout, heel.” He clicked his fingers, and Scout followed close beside him as he headed back to the house.

Mabel waited until his back was turned. Then she picked up the stick again and drove it hard into the ground, at the base of the bush that hid Bill. Backing up a bit, making sure it would stay upright, she nodded to herself. It would work well enough as a landmark.

“I’ll come back later,” she whispered under her breath as she trailed behind Tate and Scout. “If he’s gone, I’ll run home and tell Dipper and the Grunkles. And if he’s dead, then… problem solved. I think.”

And if this is all a trick? Some cynical part of her brain piped up. If he’s luring you back into some kind of trap, then what? You gonna fall for it like last time?

“No,” she whispered back through gritted teeth. “Not again.”

One hand wandered to the cupholder on her bike that held her grappling hook. Fingers resting on its handle, she followed the others out of the woods.

The sun had fully hidden behind the horizon by the time Mabel left. The rain had lightened to a gentle mist, barely noticeable really, and she hadn’t wanted to stay out too late. So once she’d finished her tea (augmented with all the spare sugar packets Mrs. McGucket had claimed to own), she’d said goodbye to Scout and her humans and set out for home. She sent a quick text to Dipper on the way out, letting him know she’d be a little bit late getting back. Just got sidetracked, sorry, nothing to worry about.

But there was something to worry about. She saw the stick loom out of the darkness as she cycled up. The rain had almost washed it out of the ground, leaving it standing crooked. The sharp, jutting angle reminded her of that picture Dipper showed her once of a nuclear waste dump or something, where they’d put some scary black spikes in a desert to try and scare people away. “This place is best shunned and left uninhabited”.

She shouldn’t be doing this. This was so stupid. It didn’t make any sense to get closer.

But she was already standing over the bush. She wrenched the stick out of the ground and gripped it like a sword. She held it at arm’s length and pushed aside the foliage, reaching back for the grappling hook in her pocket with her other hand.

The dim light glinted off something shiny and yellow. She drew back a step, instinctive, but the shape didn’t jump at her. It didn’t move at all. Bill Cipher was still exactly where she’d left him.

Did he actually die? She felt her chest tighten, which was stupid. It was good if he was dead. He was already supposed to be dead. She should be thrilled to think he might have died under that bush, all his threats left unfulfilled.

Did I just walk away while he was dying?

Her hand was shaking. She tried to draw the stick back, but it bumped against one of his arms as it went.

It twitched. The fist clenched and drew back in toward the body. Mabel almost bit through her tongue from flinching too hard, but there was no further movement.

He was alive. Barely.

Mabel’s chest was so tight, it felt like she couldn’t breathe. This was the worst case scenario. He wasn’t gone somewhere. He didn’t jump up and scare her and at least provide some clue about what was going on. And he wasn’t dead. But he probably would be in a few hours. And there was nobody in the world who would ever possibly help. Nobody who even could, except her.

This was so STUPID. You already helped him once, Mabel. Remember? You helped him almost kill your whole family. You really wanna go another round?

But thinking about just walking away made her feel sick. She’d never just walked away from something that was dying before. How many wasps had she fished out of pools in her life? How many times had her parents scolded her for bringing wounded squirrels and raccoons inside? Those were bad ideas too. “Trash the house and get stung” ideas. But the wasps and squirrels and raccoons all lived. If she hadn’t done that stupid thing, they would have died. Not helping had never even felt like an option.

“He already died once before,” she whispered to the angry voice in her head. “He might come back again, someplace else, and cause a bunch more problems we don’t even know about until it’s too late.” She popped open the little wicker trunk on the back of her bike and pulled out her emergency picnic blanket. “Maybe if I, like, put him somewhere secure. And keep a good close eye on him. And then when he wakes up, I can get some answers here.”

The angry voice wasn’t convinced by her rationalizations. It kept yelling about how stupid she was as she draped the blanket over Bill, then gingerly lifted him, using the blanket like gloves, too scared to touch him directly. He weighed practically nothing; about the same as a large picture frame. The voice kept berating her as she shoved him into the bike’s front basket– no way was she putting him in the trunk and pedaling all the way home with her back to him. The front basket was just big enough that, with the blanket over him, he looked like a misshapen, mostly unsuspicious lump. She biked along the side of the road, eyes flickering back and forth between the basket and the pavement ahead, for the whole ride home. The voice was still at it by the time she leaned her bike against the wall of the Mystery Shack, but the louder and meaner it got, the less inclined she felt to listen to its advice. She knew this was a dumb idea. But she’d come this far, and there were no other good options.

They’d discovered, like, six new secret rooms since Grunkle Ford first made it back home. Some of them even he had forgotten about. There was one in the basement that she and Dipper had taken to calling “Gay Baby Jail”, because they’d started a habit of banishing defeated board game opponents down there. Also because it was small, cramped, almost empty, and only had one tiny, high window into the backyard, which for some reason had bars on it.

For all these reasons, it was the perfect habitat for Bill. There was a bathroom in the back, and they’d spruced the room up with a beanbag chair and one of those empty wooden chests from the gift shop, just to tie the room together. He’d be fine in there. Probably.

It was easy to sneak in the back door and down to the basement. Dipper, Stan and Ford were all chatting in the kitchen, working on dinner. It smelled like something was on fire, but she still really wished she was in there with them. This was to keep them safe, she reminded herself as she eased open the door to Gay Baby Jail.

She turned the blanket bundle upside down and dumped Bill out onto the beanbag chair. He was still out cold, lying there in a pile of noodly limbs, but at least he was still breathing. She dropped the blanket on top of him and backed away.

Looking him over, she frowned. A small bite wound on his arm was still oozing silver blood. It would ruin the beanbag chair pretty soon. She sighed and started digging through her pockets.

Gingerly, with as few fingers as possible, she pressed a sky blue band-aid over the wound. “You didn’t earn that,” she whispered. “That’s for practical reasons only.”

With one last look around the room, she jabbed a finger at him. “I’ll be back,” she said, practicing her Interrogation Voice. “And when you wake up, I want answers, Geometry Boy.”

Bill stayed asleep. Mabel shut the door, locked it, tested the lock. It held strong.

She took a deep breath and straightened up, switching from Serious Mode back to Mabel Mode. Then she snuck back outside, knocked on the front door, and joined her family for dinner.

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 8: The Cabin: Day 4 (pt.1)

Summary: You try to talk to Soap about yesterday. Key word is try.

Word Count: 4,515

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, strong language, arguing, mentions of sex, hurtful language

A/N: Another two parter! Enjoy!! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you wish 🫶🏻 also, see the end of the chapter for Soap’s drawing

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 8

The next morning, the pain in your chest is still present. Your heart feels heavy, weighed down by confusion and a little regret. The dull ache between your legs is a lingering echo of Soap's rough touch that had split you in half. A constant reminder of last night. You feel raw, exposed, and the desire to talk to Soap about what happened is overwhelming now. As daunting as it seems, you know this conversation is unavoidable. It needs to happen sooner or later.

Pulling yourself upright in bed, you look to Soap’s side of the room and see that he’s gone. You hope for once that he’s around and hasn’t left for a morning run or anything. You don’t know if you can handle waiting for him to get back. Getting changed into the last fully clean pair of clothes you have, you go to look for the Scot.

As you walk into the kitchen, you’re naturally drawn to look out the window. Your heart leaps when you see him. He’d sitting by the same tree he had a couple days ago, looking out towards the water. Taking a deep breath, gathering up your courage, you exit the cabin. The morning air is cool against your skin, but it does little to soothe your nerves.

Each step you take towards him makes your heart beat faster, the anxiety building with every stride. You’re so nervous to talk to him, afraid of how this interaction might go. You had a pretty bad track record so far of turning civil conversations into heated arguments.

As you get closer, you come to realize he has one of his black books with him. It’s opened up, and it looks like he’s sketching something. His eyes dart from between the lake in front of him to his book, pausing between his strokes when he does.

He either doesn’t hear you or chooses not to acknowledge you until you’re about halfway to him. You can see him glance a little over his shoulder as you draw near, but he never fully turns his head to look at you. His gaze just goes back to his book. Even when you’re finally right next to him, he still doesn’t say anything or even look up at you.

“Can I sit with you for a bit?” You ask before you lose your courage and run back to the cabin.

Soap is silent for a couple seconds, and for a moment, you’re worried he’s not going to say anything to you. There’s a pang in your chest at that thought, but Soap finally answers after a moment.

“Sure.” He sighs, seeming to know exactly what you are here for. Then again, why else would you ever come to talk to him?

Slowly, you move to sit beside him. It’s peaceful outside, a stark contrast to how you’re feeling. Not really knowing how you want to start this conversation, you instead look at the sketch he’s currently working on.

“I didn’t know you liked to draw.” You say, watching as he carefully makes each line on the paper. He’s drawing the scene of the lake. Using one of his fingers, he smudges a line he’s just made, darkening his finger with the lead of his pencil.

“It helps pass the time. Takes my mind off stuff.” He shrugs, still offering his full attention to his drawing.

“It looks nice. You’re really good at drawing.”

And you’re being genuine. You’re surprised to say that Soap is really good at drawing. He’s about halfway through sketching the landscape, and it looks beautiful so far. Despite your compliment though, Soap sighs, taking his pencil off the drawing and finally looking at you.

“What do you want?” He asks, making you shy away slightly. You don’t want him thinking your compliment was just empty words.

“I was being serious. Your drawing is really nice. You’re really talented.”

Soap sighs again, glancing back down to his artwork, but not drawing anymore. “Thanks. But I know you’re not out here cause you want to watch me draw. So get to it.”

You’re silent for a long time, watching the side of his face. You were out here to talk to him about last night, but you were nervous. You wanted to ease into it, not just dive right in. Though with Soap outing you on your intentions, you don’t really have a choice now.

“I just wanted to talk to you about last night…” You say slowly.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He answers quickly, making you frown. Of course there was something to talk about. How could he say that?

“Soap, we… we had sex. How is that not something to talk about?”

“Lots of people have sex, States.” He shrugs. You begin to nervously pick at your nails.

“So it didn’t mean anything?” You find yourself asking.

You don’t know what you want his answer to be. You should want him to say it didn’t mean anything. It was just sex and nothing more. But a part of you doesn’t want him to say that. Maybe if it meant something then you wouldn’t regret it so much? Or maybe you really just wanted it to have meant something.

“Don’t you fucking dare do that.”

“Do what?” You frown.

“Don’t you start telling me this meant something to you. That you think this fixes anything between us.”

“It… it didn’t, I don’t. I mean, I’m just sorting through it- I don’t know.” You say quickly, caught off guard by what he said.

“Fucking Christ…” Soap mutters, burying his face into his hands as you begin to feel flustered.

“Can you just-! Just answer my question! So what we did last night didn’t mean anything?”

Soap groans, hitting his head against the back of the tree slightly. “Nope. It was just sex. Something to get rid of all the tension for a bit. That’s it.”

His answer hurts you a lot more than you expect. The sting of his words leaves you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to process his easy dismissal. “Ok.. well, good.” You find yourself saying, looking out across the waters. It’s silent for a few moments before Soap breaks it.

“Hey, by the way, you’re not going to get pregnant, are you? You are on birth control right?” He looks over to you, and you’re staring straight ahead, a blank expression on your face. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, no we’re fine. I’ve got a birth control implant.”

You weren’t on birth control for the birth control part of it. It was mostly to help with a hormone imbalance to make your menstrual cycle more regular. But the birth control part of it was nice too for situations like when your teammate randomly decides to fuck you senseless.

Soap nods, his gaze shifting back to his sketchbook. He seems to visibly relax knowing there wasn’t a chance of you being pregnant. “Good. Don’t have to worry about that. Let’s just move on then, alright? What we did last night doesn’t change anything.”

You bite the insight of your lip. “How can you say it doesn’t change anything?” It could be meaningless sex, but to say it didn’t change anything? That was ridiculous.

Soap pauses, his pencil hovering above the page. He doesn't look up, but you can see the tension in his shoulders. "Because it doesn’t," he says, his voice tight. "We had sex. It’s over. We move on."

You shake your head, frustration boiling over. “How can you just brush it off like it’s nothing."

He finally sets his pencil down, meeting your gaze with a hard stare. "What do you want me to say, States? That it meant something? That it was special? It wasn’t. It was a mistake if anything.”

You hesitate, your emotions a tangled mess. "I don’t know… It just doesn’t feel like it was nothing."

He sighs heavily, closing his sketchbook. "Look, it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. We both needed an outlet, and it happened. But that’s all it was.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I just… Can I ask you something else?” You ask softly. There was still so much you wanted to get answers to.

Soap gives you a hard stare, but he eventually caves. “Sure. Go ahead.” Soap sighs, turning his gaze to look out at the lake. He clearly doesn’t want to keep talking about this with you, but he lets you continue anyway.

“I need to understand. Why did you kiss me? Why now, after everything?”

Soap’s jaw clenches slightly, you make out the slight pulse in his jaw when he does. “Because I needed to blow off some steam. Because we were both there, and it was convenient. Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters!” You snap, your voice rising. “It matters because I need to know if this was just some spur-of-the-moment decision for you or if there’s something more to it.”

Soap sighs heavily, running a hand over his face in annoyance. “States,” he says, his tone softer but still firm. You can he’s trying to keep his cool. “I don’t have a better answer for you. It was just sex. That’s all it was. It was just a way to release some tension. There’s no hidden meaning behind it. No deeper nothing. It’s better if we just forget it and move on.”

“So that’s it?” You manage to say, voice trembling slightly. “We just go back to hating each other?”

Soap’s eyes meet yours. There’s a flicker of something—regret, maybe?—but it’s gone too quickly to be sure. “Yes, we go back to the way things were, and we forget this ever happened. It’s better that way.”

“How can we just act like nothing happened?”

“We just go about our lives like we did before we fucked. It’s not that hard, States.”

You bite your lip, fighting back tears. “Maybe for you!”

“Oh, don’t give me that shite. You’re a soldier. You know how to compartmentalize. Do it.”

You shake your head, frustration boiling over. “That’s not fair, Soap. You can’t just ignore my feelings because it’s easier for you.”

“I’m not ignoring your feelings! I’m trying not to make things more complicated than they need to be!”

“It’s already complicated! My whole relationship with you is complicated. And now I don’t know what the hell to do! People who hate each other don’t fuck each other.”

“I don’t know what to fucking tell you! I was angry, things have been tense between us for a long time, I wanted to release that tension. So I did. It wasn’t anything. Just a build up of too much tension that needed to be released. And it helped. The sex was good, but that’s all it was. If you can’t wrap your head around that, then that’s your problem, not mine,” he says coldly. “I’ve said what I needed to say. If you can’t move on, that’s on you.”

He picks up his sketchbook up off the ground and stands up, effectively ending the conversation. You continue to sit there, feeling more lost and confused than ever. The weight of his words hung heavily on your heart. You just had to forget it… Move on and act like it hadn’t happened. You regretted it, you wished it hadn’t happened.

Then why couldn’t you let it go?

Soap was more than willing to act like it was nothing. To go back to your normal lives. Though maybe the problem was that you didn’t want to go back. You didn’t want to go back to the way things were. Where you fought constantly and were always at each other’s throats. Maybe you hoped that sex meant Soap didn’t hate you after all. It certainly felt like he despised you even more now though.

The more you thought about it, the more angry you got. He kissed you, he was the one who’d had sex with you, he started all of this. All with the intention of just making himself feel better. No regard for how it might affect you. He really hated you that much? And he wouldn’t even tell you why he felt the way that he did. If you had some explanation, some reason, maybe it’d make it better to accept it, but he gave you nothing.

Feeling a new fire ignite inside you, one that didn’t want to go back, or at least wanted answers as to why Soap resented you, you get up and march after him. He’d been dodging the question every time you asked, but not anymore. If things were going to go back to how they were, you were going to know why he felt the way he did.

By the time you’re up, Soap is already walking up the steps of the porch and heading inside. You follow after him, trying to get to him before he tries to leave again or before you lose the nerve to talk with him.

You push the door of the cabin open and step inside, scanning the small space for him. He’s in the bedroom, tucking his journal away as you walk up to the doorway. As soon as Soap realizes you’re back, a sour look crosses his face.

“Fucking hell, what do you want? We’re done talking about last night.” He says firmly, going back to doing whatever it was he came in here to do.

“No we’re not.” You say as firmly as you can. It comes out a little shaky though. “If last night changes nothing, and if it meant nothing, if we have to just go back hating each other-“

“There is no ‘going back’ to hating each other. We always have, nothing ever changed that.” Soap interrupts, just stabbing another knife into your chest.

“Don’t interrupt me! If you’re going to hate me, that’s fine. But I want to know why you do.”

Soap visibly gets uncomfortable, his shoulders tensing. “I already told you, I don’t need to explain myself.”

“You kind of do. You can't just keep pushing me away, Soap. If you really hate me that much, at least have the decency to tell me why."

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Yes you are! I deserve to know why you hate me. After everything you did yesterday, I deserve some answers.”

He clenches his jaw, looking away for a moment before finally meeting your gaze again. "Fine. You want to know why? Because you're always so damn stubborn, always in my face, challenging me, questioning everything I do."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. “So, you hate me because I stand up to you? Because I won't just roll over and let you constantly talk shit to me?”

“Yep.” He answers shortly, and you know he’s lying. Or at least not telling you everything.

“Bullshit. I didn’t start doing any of that to you for a long time. You were awful to me since I stepped foot on base. From our first introduction to each other. Was there someone else you wanted instead of me on the Task Force? Do you not like a girl joining your little group? Are you afraid I’m going to out perform you? Is it because the guys like me, and you can’t stand that?”

“We didn’t need you on our team! We were fine before you came along and ruined the entire dynamic.”

“You are literally the only one who thinks that!”

“Yeah, well, it’s not the first time I’ve seen a whole fucking unit crumble because no one wanted to believe me! I will not let you come in and tear everything apart!”

“I’m not going to tear you guys apart! I want to be on this team! I want to be with Price and Gaz and Ghost, and even you!”

“Yeah that’s what Annette said too!”

“Who’s Annette?” You ask, and Soap instantly closes himself off. He’s said too much. Got too caught up in the heat of the moment, slipped up, and revealed something to you he didn’t want to.

“She’s no one.” He says harshly before quickly continuing. “Look, you want to know why I fucking hate everything about you, States?” Soap is slowly approaching you, cornering you against the doorframe. “Oh, where to even start. You’re stubborn. You can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business. You’re annoying as hell. You’re an absolute shite soldier, one I can’t trust to have my back on the field. You’re reckless, you’re a liability, and you have no clue what it means to be part of a team. And don’t get me started on your pathetic attempts to prove yourself. You’re just a suck up to Price and the others. It’s embarrassing. You think you’re tough? You’re a joke. Every time you open your mouth, I want to walk the other way. You’re nothing but a thorn in my side, and I wish you’d never been assigned to this team. You’re weak, you’re useless, and you’re a bloody nuisance. That’s why I hate you, States. Because you’re not worth the dirt on my boots.”

You’re almost in tears as he finishes up. Your jaw is clenched tight to keep it from trembling, and you’re gripping the wood on the door frame so tightly you’re afraid it’s going to rip off. Soap has been a jerk to you in the past, but he’s never been this raw with his words before. At least you finally had an answer. One that felt real. Genuine. And shit, did it hurt.

“We’ve got three more fucking days together, States. Don’t speak to me again during that time. Understand?”

He’s leaning over you, face far too close for comfort. All you can do is nod your head, afraid that opening your mouth is going to make you break down. Soap huffs, his warm breath against your cheek before he pulls away.

“Going out for bit. Gonna be hours. Just letting you know so you don’t worry.” He tells you mockingly before leaving you against the doorframe. You listen for the sound of the cabin door closing before you sink to the ground, sobbing into your knees as you hug them close to you.

***

As Soap leaves the cabin, he can hear you crying inside. Despite all the horrible things he just said, after expressing how much he hated you, his heart tightens in his chest. It wasn’t that he liked saying those things… hell, he wasn’t even sure he meant half of those things anymore. But he refused to let you in. He couldn’t. And you just won’t understand that.

It was all just a mess. Truth was, things had changed yesterday when he had sex with you. The more time he spent thinking about it, the more he realized Ghost was right. He really did just need to fuck you and get it out of his system. For the split second that all the tension was resolved, he truly felt an attraction towards you.

And that scared him.

He hadn’t been expecting that. He thought you’d simply fuck and then have a breather for a moment. He didn’t expect to be rushed with this sudden urge to actually want to be with you.

These next three days couldn’t go by faster. He wanted this hell to be over. This torment to just end. He yearned to go back to how things were before he came here with you. Even if it’d been complicated before, it was better than how complicated it was now.

He listens to your sobs a moment more before shaking his head and heading for the woods. If he stayed a second longer, he was afraid he’d run back to you and do something he was going to regret.

***

You sat on the floor and cried for what felt like hours. Your eyes burned from how many tears had been leaking from them. The skin your around eyes was sore from how often you’d wiped at them, and your last clean shirt was now soiled with tears and snot. It wasn’t pretty…

After a few hours, you really couldn’t cry anymore. You didn’t think it was possible, but you’re sure you’ve run out of tears. You feel disgusting. Soap’s words played on repeat over and over in your head, and you’re beginning to believe them.

Liability… untrustworthy… embarrassing… weak… useless…

You didn’t want to be those things. And you know Ghost, Price, or Gaz would be so fast to dismiss them and reassure you that you weren’t. But they weren’t here, and they couldn’t tell you those things. The only person you had was Soap.

At some point, you decide you’ve had enough of sitting on the hard wood floor. You were a soldier. You know how to pull yourself together and keep going. So that’s what you were going to do. The first thing you were going to do was take a bath. Wash away any remnants of Soap. Wash away the things he’s said to you, the grim, the pain. Take the opportunity to clean yourself now that you felt like you were in a million pieces before you put yourself back together again.

You slowly collect all the things you needed for bathing and head outside. It’s warm. Beautiful as always. You hope maybe the sun will help you grow after feeling like you’ve wilted. You can only hope.

As you step onto the deck, you notice your shit covered boots still waiting outside to be cleaned. You might as well clean those too while you’re at it. Why shouldn’t everything have a fresh start. So you pick those up and carrying them down with you to the waters edge, dropping them in the dirt while dropping your towel on a nice patch of grass.

You strip down, no longer really caring about who is going to see you. You’re far too upset to care at this point. The sun is warm of your skin, but the water is cold. It always is. It’s numbing though, and you’d really like to feel numb for a little bit.

You’re stepping deeper and deeper, feeling an odd moment of calm. The water really is soothing. It’s helping to take your mind off the past three days. You close your eyes, soaking up the sunlight on your face and letting the water hold you.

You’re so deep into your own mind, trying to self soothe, that you don’t hear the silent steps of someone joining you on the shoreline. You don’t hear your boots being knocked over, or see your clothes being stepped on. It’s only when the feet of your unwanted guest step into the water, creating ripples and a plunking sound, that you realize you’re not alone.

An uneasy feeling overwhelms you and you shrink down slightly. “Soap?” You ask hesitantly, your first thought being that he was close by. But when you glance over your shoulder, it’s not Soap. Instead of meeting his angry blue eyes, you instead meet the angry black eyes of a black bear.

You gasp, almost losing your footing as you try to back away quickly into the deeper water to get some distance. There was a fair amount of distance between you and the bear already, but your first instinct was to get away from it.

The bear is sniffling the air, looking right at you. It’s watching your every movement like it’s reading your body language. Trying to decide if you’d be worth going after. It makes a few grunting sounds, which sound so familiar. This must have been the bear that was chasing you yesterday. It must have followed you here.

“G-go away!” You shout at it, not sure if you’re suppose to play dead or not. Clearly this bear knows you aren’t dead, and you honestly aren’t sure if the play dead thing was a myth or not.

Maybe it wasn’t a myth though, cause as soon as you shout at it, it raises onto its back legs and bellows at you. The sounds makes your heart thud harder in your chest, a shiver of fear running all through you. Its teeth look so sharp, it’s claws so long. Panic is starting to overtake you no matter how hard you try to push it down and keep a clear mind.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God… what the fuck do I do?” You mutter to yourself, yelping as it comes down on all fours again.

The bear starts to walk into the water, continuing to sniff the air and watch your every movement. It’s still grunting and growling at you as it slowly stalks towards you.

You’re frozen in fear, almost like you’re hoping it won’t see you if you stay super still, and it will go away. The creature takes a lunge at you, splashing up water before retreating a bit. Testing you. The sudden movement brings you back to the present, and you let out a scream, holding your arms up to shield you from the spray of water.

“Go away!” You shout louder this time and start to splash water towards it in hopes of scaring it off. It manages to make the animal jump and back away, but it recovers when it realizes the water didn’t hurt and starts to come in again.

It lunges again at you, letting out a long roar and getting closer. However, this time it doesn’t back away. Its mouth is hanging open and thick drool is dripping from its chops. It was like drooling at the very thought of having you for its next meal, a thought that makes you shiver.

“Get out of here! Go!” You shout some more. In a panic, you try to make more distance, swimming out a little further. The water was coming up to just under your chest now.

You avert your gaze for a split second to look around for a weapon, a stick or anything to defend yourself with, and the second you look away, the bear charges. You scream again, heart pounding and tears coming to your eyes. It was standing up again so it could touch the bottom of the lake, its arm taking a swipe at you. Luckily you’re still just out of reach.

“Go away! You fucking stupid animal! Go away!” You scream at it, backing up more.

To say you are terrified is an understatement. You’re naked and completely unprepared to fight off something like a bear. You can’t think, your mind still stressed and exhausted from the last few hours. You’re panicking and afraid that you’re going to die.

Then you hear, far off in the distance, a familiar voice. One you’ve never been more happy to hear in your entire life. As relieved and happy as you are to hear him, you hope it’s not going to be the last voice you ever hear.

“States?! States!!!”

***

[o-sachi]

Shidou Ryusei ‧₊˚ ⋅ Relationship Heacanons + Mini Scenario

ଳ character; shidou ryusei (blue lock) ଳ tags; sfw, gn reader, no y/n

— Slow burn? What’s that? Neither of you know the concept of it because once you found each other… there was just absolutely no letting go. I mean, you have to be the rarest catch ever to be able to match the freak of Shidou Ryusei. Everything between you happens fast.

— Fast as it is, he’ll never let you forget how much he loves you. He’s so aggressive with his loving too (good luck; you’ll need it). Frenzied kisses, hugs that squeeze the life outta you, and all the weirdly sweet compliments are some of the things you can expect from him.

— Not much of a surprise, but the love language that he likes to give and receive would be physical touch. And we know he’s freaky as hell, but the touches don’t always have to be sexual. In fact, he looooves it when you pat his head and massage his scalp. It’s literally the only time when he’s calm and quiet.

— He never takes you out on dates and you don’t complain. Well, he doesn’t take you out on the TYPICAL kinds of dates. Neither of you like dinner dates or movie nights; they’re too boring. You’d much rather go get takeout at 2 AM and eat it in the parking lot. If it’s not spontaneous, then it has to be something that leaves both of you out of breath—laser tag, amusement parks, and paintball to name a few.

— Despite being on the same wavelength, you still fight quite a lot. However, it’s never so serious that you start shouting and hurting each other emotionally. Actually… most of your quarrels are super childish. The last thing you fought about was whether or not Gege should bring Gojo back. Spoiler alert: he’s a Gojo hater.

— I can totally imagine him watching anime with you. He’s lowkey a weeb, trust. It’s actually one of the more calm moments you have with him. That is, if you consider him reacting to every little thing happening to be calm. Best believe he’s shouting at the screen at the most hype moments of the show. He Naruto runs unironically btw.

— He’s… shockingly the possessive type? Like I can imagine that it took him forever to find someone like you, so the prospect of losing you to someone else pisses him the fuck off. He won’t try to hide it too. He’ll still be all sweet with you, but when you look away—whoever tried to poach you will be facing his wrath.

— People are convinced the two of you can communicate telepathically. You can just give each other a look and you both already know what it means. Soooo many inside jokes that if someone else heard the two of you talk, they’d give you a weird look.

— People wouldn’t usually invite Shidou out, unless you would be tagging along. With you around, Shidou isn’t much of a menace. The two of you become the fun couple that livens up the gathering. In short, y’all some crazy fun.

ᯓ Dancing scenario

It was one of those lazy Sundays that the two of you would spend hanging out in your bedroom. It was unusually quiet as both of you were busy scrolling through your phones. A different audio blaring from each of your devices while you scrolled through several Tiktoks.

"Ryu, look at this one," you say, thrusting the phone into his face. "Let's do this dance."

It was one of the simpler dances you found. Everything else was too complicated for the both of you to do in synchrony. You gave him some time to watch it twice and he grins.

The way he hurriedly got off the bed was enough to let you know that he was up for it. You followed suit, preparing your phone to record the two of you dancing like idiots.

Shidou was already practicing on the side. "Heh, this is easy!" But, alas, he was doing it horribly wrong as he always did.

Finally getting the phone ready, you smirk at his silly attempt at the dance and approach him. "You got it all wrong!"

Of course, he insists that he was doing it flawlessly. But you still show him how to do it. About 15 minutes have passed before he became decent at the moves. It's not like you wanted perfection—the mediocrity of your moves makes it funnier anyway. But at the very least, you wanted him to be able to resemble the dance.

"Alright, alright, just hit the record button already. Don't be so fussy. I dance better than you do!"

You playfully glare at him. "Yeah, whatever you say."

Once the phone started recording, you hurriedly went to your place beside him. The music starts and you were able to hit the first few moves. But as you neared the end, Shidou did a different move.

"See? Who messed up first?"

He doesn't own up to it, of course. Shidou, instead, demands for a 2nd take...

then another...

then one more...

then another take...

then, you finally couldn't take it anymore because how is it possible that the more you do it—the more mistakes the both of you do? In the last take, unfortunately, you were the one who messed up.

He gave you that look and you already knew he was going to rub it in your face.

"Hah! Told you I'm the better dancer."

Oh... he did not just say that.

Without another thought, you pounced on him like a wild animal. He should be thankful that your bed caught him, otherwise he wouldn't be attending football practice tomorrow.

You were a self-proclaimed jiu-jitsu fighter when it came to playfighting with him. Well, you don't know the moves or even the name of the moves—but the point is that you have to make him tap out no matter what.

To some extent, this was your little way of showing cuteness aggression—more so the aggression part. Sometimes he just gets on your nerves and this is the only thing that appeases you.

The two of you roll around on the bed, trying to gain leverage over the other. At some point, both of you almost fell off the bed. But he caught the both of you fast enough and flung you back to the other side of the bed.

As he recovered from that, you slipped him into a chokehold. It was a light one, of course. It wasn't like you wanted him to actually pass out.

"What? Gonna tap out?"

He smirks back at your cocky expression and taps your thigh to let you know he was throwing in the towel. He gave up without much of a fight, but that was his own way of letting you know how whipped he is for you.

Shidou might not be good with words, but you fall for his actions nonetheless.

You smile triumphantly at him. "Guess that makes me the better fighter huh?"

A devilish grin stretches across his dark expression

"I demand a round 2."

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part nine)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: an album release forces some feelings and conversations — one thing's for sure though, Eddie will always be thinking about you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

“We are here this morning with a true music icon in the making, who’s hits like Compromising Positions and most recently Honesty took the world by storm. Now, Eddie Munson is just a few short days away from releasing his sophomore album with his Corroded Coffin bandmates, Assistance is Futile. Welcome to Eddie Munson everybody, yes!”

“Happy to be here, Charles.”

Good Morning America was definitely not the type of talk show the rockstar pictured himself ever getting invited on. He didn’t think his personal style, or the music he was putting out there with the band, would be something the producers would welcome. Considering especially the whole thing was televised live. No cuts, no edits, no take backs. Whatever is said remains out there forever. Quoted and interpreted until the next schmuck makes a fool of himself.

Hosts, Charles Gibson and Joan Lunden, were also known to be quite blunt with their guests. Blunt, but not in the rude sense of the word. Given their history on the network, their experience, they're simply good at what they do, which sometimes means effortlessly picking at a topic until they get a satisfactory reaction or better yet, television worthy answer. Of course there’s always a list of pre-agreed questions, carefully discussed with management and PR teams, but things have known to… slip out.

But Marianne trained him. Extensively. She flew out to New York the second this interview was arranged and spent hours in Eddie’s penthouse hotel room going over details that to most people, people not from this world, may seem minor: how to sit, how to smile, what to laugh at, the amount of seconds it should take him to answer a question. The list goes on. And now she was here, at the studio, to make sure Eddie saw a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to look at in case he got flustered at any point during the fifteen minute round.

“Before we get into the nitty gritty,” Joan begins, crossing one knee over the other, “Eddie, why don’t you tell us a little about how you and the band first got started?”

So Eddie talks. He’s charming as he tells the story, sparing a few details ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He does however, crack a few jokes, including one about the list of names Gareth and Jeff brought to him one night before they all agreed on Corroded Coffin. Charles laughs before asking the next question about the band's success so far, and what he makes of it.

“Oh man, it’s so insane,” Eddie answers truthfully, “I still have days where I don’t think any of this is real. All of us in the band feel incredibly lucky, for sure.” He nods along as he speaks.

Joan and Charles take turns asking a few more general questions about the band plus the other members who couldn’t make it out today, before settling on the whole reason Eddie agreed to do this interview in the first place: promotion for the new album.

Assistance is Futile was a collection of songs about you — but that was not going to be an answer he gives today, accidentally or otherwise. Instead, the rockstar focuses attention on how the record was built. Technical language that he dumbs down slightly to make sure he’s continuously captivating his audience (Marianne’s advice). He tells them what instruments the group played around with that may not have featured on their last album, which was more classic rock than this new project. And he’s excited as he talks. Passionate.

He continues to lay out the facts. List the number of tracks it features, eleven plus two bonus songs on the extended version. He talks about the writing process, still carefully avoiding mentioning the influence. He won’t say he wrote them all during the aftermath of your breakup. He hasn’t even admitted that to you, despite the fact that you spent every waking moment together since the afternoon at Cove City Sound Studios. He knows he won’t be able to hide that for much longer, but until the album comes out and you hear the songs for yourself, he’ll keep it to himself because things have been so… great.

Sure, things weren’t back to normal. It can’t be the way it was until Eddie finds the time to speak with your management and nip this whole evil grandmother blackmail thing in the bud. At least he’s got you in some capacity. He gets to talk to you again, laugh with you. He gets to hug you, kiss you, touch you. Friends with benefits, or whatever the term is. Eddie’s just glad to be around you.

“Now, here at the studio, we got an exclusive, sneak peak listen to Assistance is Futile, and there’s a little bit of speculation between the crew about the meaning behind some of the songs.”

Boom. There it is. The dreaded topic. And it was going so well.

“Care to share where the inspiration for these lyrics struck you? Who, in particular, they might be about?”

Eddie smiles. “Give into the charade”, Marianne’s words ring in his ears, “But by any means, don’t confirm their suspicions”. Not an easy task. A slippery slope by all accounts. He ever so slightly glances in the direction of his manager who nods her head to show encouragement.

“Who do you think they’re about, Joan?” Eddie bounces the question back.

The presenter smiles. She knows she shouldn’t say. Yes, it would be good for ratings, but bringing up your name is not something that can be done lightly. She knows that. Hence why Joan hoped Eddie Munson wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid the initial question. But the rockstar’s been trained and he’s not about to mess up with two minutes to spare.

“Well, I’d say my friend Charles here. He’s got, what was that one lyric, legs for days and a wicked smile.” Joan deflects. Ever the professional.

The whole studio starts laughing. Eddie joins in, satisfied with the way this worked out. 

“You’d be right on the money there, Joan.” The rockstar nods with a wide smile before continuing, “Charles Gibson has been a constant inspiration for Corroded Coffin songs. There’s not a lot to do in Hawkins, where we grew up. Gotta write what you know and my uncle has an affinity for this show.” 

He turns to the camera to say hi to Wayne, “I know you’re watching.”

Then shifts to look at the hosts once more, winking at the gentleman sitting across from him.

“Charles, you sexy devil, you.”

The laughter continues. People start to clap, whistle along to Eddie’s perfectly curated response. Marianne is beaming with pride because for a brief moment, she didn’t think he could do it. There've been so many mishaps in the past, wild things the band — the curly-haired frontman in particular — have done that she’s had to either smooth over with the media or keep hidden from the public altogether. This morning she finally exhaled. He did well.

You’re laughing too. Feeling proud too as you watch him through your television screen, just like you promised Eddie you would.

Blanket covering your body, all the way up to your chin, as you sit comfortably on the couch. The smile on your face is as genuine as they come. He’s so good at this. Considering how nervous he was, how much time he spent with Marianne going over every possible scenario until his head hurt. You took a mental note to tell him later that he really had nothing to worry about. He’s a natural.

The question about his inspiration for the album didn’t surprise you. It’s pretty standard for these types of press junkets. Even more given the fact your relationship has been the talk of the town for months, especially when the two of you weren’t even together. People love to speculate.

When Eddie told you about the upcoming album, one night after you came down from another intense orgasm, you assumed he wrote about your relationship — especially the failures. Honesty came to the rockstar after only one night. Makes sense that a complete record would be next. He didn’t confirm it though, because you didn’t ask. You would know once it came out, when you purchased your own copy to listen through. Artists supporting artists, and whatnot.

“Corroded Coffin’s Assistance is Futile. Coming to a record store near you, this Thursday, October 14.” Charles Gibson announces, holding up a shiny compact disc to one of the cameras, showing off the album’s cover art: a thundering night sky, with something sinister looming inside the blood red clouds. An ode to the band's Dungeons & Dragons days.

“Eddie Munson, thank you for your time today.” Joan Lunden flashes a pearly white smile.

The rockstar returns the expression. “Thank you for having me.”

Backstage, Eddie gives Marianne a big hug. Thanking her for being here. While returning the embrace, she reassures him that’s never going to change. “Or at least until the contract ends,” his manager teases and ruffles his already wild hair before sitting down on the velvet sofa.

“So, tell me, am I flying back to LA alone?”

Eddie picks up a bag of previously opened Funyuns before leaning against the vanity. He shuffles the remainder of the onion-flavoured corn chips inside the plastic, then starts eating them, one by one.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as if it was an obvious answer. “We’ve got the release party for the album. The guys would kill me if I missed it.”

“I’d kill you first.”

He smirks. “Then why ask me the question?”

Marianne gives him a pointed look. One that says, no, screams, he of all people should know why. Eddie got on a private plane to New York so he could “sort something out”, then ended up staying for weeks longer than intended with no explanation. Marianne called him at the hotel multiple times, asking for a return day, but he always gave a vague answer. Then Gareth called, as did Jeff (who sort of already suspected the reason for the delayed homecoming, kudos to Holly), but Eddie continued on the road of avoidance, all while Page Six posted about sightings of him with a certain pop sensation.

“Eddie, you haven’t been this happy since—”

“I know,” he interrupts, “I know and yes, to whatever you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna talk about it now because there’s something I need to do first.”

“What do you need to do?” She asks, puzzled because in the time they’ve worked together, the rockstar has never once left her out of action. She did everything for him. That was her job. One she did gladly because she’s grown to care for these boys.

Eddie sighs, wiping his crumb covered hands on the material of his trousers. The bag of chips lays empty on the table next to him. Of course he contemplated telling Marianne everything on multiple occasions, but each time he chickened out at the last minute. He knew she could fix everything in the blink of an eye. Simply, the rockstar just didn’t feel worthy of that. 

His entire life, Eddie ran away. From situations, from people, from feelings. Anything that was messy, or just became messy. He ran until the distance felt comfortable enough to continue with his life. Growing up in Hawkins, he didn’t have a Marianne. He didn’t have anyone that would stand up for him, so running became second nature. Running fixed his problems. 

By the time the band hit stardom, running turned to escapism in the form of drugs and alcohol. The bubble. Under the influence, the rockstar didn’t care who cleaned up after him and Marianne was so good at her job that most of the time, Eddie didn’t even know there was a problem to run from until it was resolved.

The situation with your grandmother however, was different. It involved you. 

He gave into his instincts and ran. Only this time, Eddie ran to protect you. Threats were made to potentially ruin your career — fucked up, considering the person that made them was also the person who helped kick-start your fame. And as selfish as he may seem to people that don’t know the real him, the rockstar wasn’t willing to gamble everything you built for yourself. He ran.

But Eddie was done running. He was going to fix this and he planned on doing it alone.

“What’s going on?” Marianne stands and takes a step closer, crossing her arms. Concern is starting to fill her veins, though she’s trying her best not to show it. Trying and failing.

Maybe solving this alone wasn’t the way to go.

“Someone’s been blackmailing me,” he admits eventually, reluctantly. 

“What?!” Marianne just about shouts. “Who? For how long?”

“It’s uh…. It’s a complicated story.”

“Well, fuck.” She’s slightly annoyed ‘cause how could he have hidden something like this from her? This is why the band has her. Managing them, planning shit to maintain their career is only a small part of her job. Protecting these boys is a priority and blackmail is a big fucking deal.

Exhaling, Marianne lets her arms drop and proceeds to take a much less confrontational stance. 

“Eddie, you know I’ve always got nothing but time for you, so spill.”

And he does. Starting right at the beginning with Chrissy Cunningham.

-

When Eddie stops by your place later that afternoon, he kisses you, the second you open up your apartment. He kisses you fully, deeply. He’s kicking the door closed with his boot, lips continually locked together, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. A man on a mission and the mission being to make you feel like you're floating all the damn time. 

You smile against his soft lips. Mission accomplished.

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Hello,” he whispers back, also smiling. “How was your morning?”

“Not nearly as interesting as yours,” you answer his question and turn in your spot, wanting to lead him to the couch. Eddie’s hands remain on your waist as you do so, no inclination of letting go.

MTV is on. The wild-haired rockstar instantly feels at home — a stark contrast to that first night he showed up at your door. Adrenaline pumping. Unsure of the outcome. But it was better than he could’ve imagined, dreamed. Back in your arms with little to no arguments. Back where he for sure belonged.

Honesty comes on. The video makes him smile as he effortlessly pulls your legs over his thighs, hand settling on your soft flesh and giving it a gentle squeeze. The memory of that day with you on set. Eddie wouldn’t call it acting. Hugging you, kissing you on camera. Not a tough act. Natural, actually. That was a good day. You’re thinking it too.

“Magnetic.”

“Huh?”

Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “You’re magnetic. Utterly. I almost forgot, but I didn’t really, you know? I-I think about that day often and how much fun it was,” he rambles. It’s sweet. 

“But what I replay in my mind the most is how fucking talented you are, sweetheart. A goddess in front of a camera, I swear.”

You smirk, your own mind flying to something much, much dirtier than what Eddie meant, and he flicks your leg at the institution, all while glancing at you from the corner of his brown eyes. Because there was a video camera left under the rockstars California King bed with a tape inside, a tape that could get you both — although the sexist industry you’re lucky to be a part of would blame only you, mainly — in a lot of trouble, if it ever saw the light of day. A tape for private eyes only. And Eddie wasn’t wrong, you were near damn a goddess.

“Wish we could work together again,” he says, then quickly adds, “Professionally, sweetheart, before you get any kinky ideas.”

That makes you laugh.

“Think you should focus on the album the band is about to release, hotshot. Once that’s a sure hit, then we can talk about doing something together.”

“Well, there is a box in my room, back in LA, with notebooks full of songs…”

He’s trying to be encouraging. Motivational. Really what Eddie’s doing is building up the courage to ask you to go back to Los Angeles with him. In a complete roundabout way, to be honest. The guys would call him a pussy. He was being a pussy. There was however, a lot he still needed to tell you. This whole thing with your grandma, for one. But Marianne was handling that now, and once she gave him the agreed upon sign, there was nothing stopping Eddie from screaming he loves you from all available rooftops — which he hoped to do for the first time at the place you two officially met. 

And with his manager on the case, he knew it would be sooner rather than later.

“Eddie, you’re a dumbass.” Marianne states. There’s a frown on her face, but it’s not serious. Accompanied by a smile that’s giving him a little bit of hope.

“I know—”

“No,” she interrupts, “You don’t.” 

He exhales. “I do, though.”

“Eddie. If you came to me when this first happened, you would’ve never lost all this time with Little Miss Perfect. The fact that you didn’t, the fact that you didn’t trust me with this information, makes you a dumbass.”

“So, you can fix this?”

“There’s a little thing called a Cease and Desist,” Marianne says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And in a way, it is. “No one is going to threaten the career of my favourite client and get away with it.”

Eddie smiles. Genuinely. Something reminiscent of relief is flowing through his body, down to the tips of his toes, until he no longer feels heavy. The burden of this situation is slowly lifting.

“With your permission, I’d like to approach her team with this information. They’ll most likely also issue a cease and desist, so that her career is also protected.” Marianne says. “But I guess since all you’ve tried to do is keep her out of harm’s way, the only way you knew how, I’m assuming I have your permission without even asking for it?”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” He’s repeating over and over and over, wrapping his arms around Marianne. A hug they’d both cherish forever.

“Like I said, let’s get you to survive this record release first, okay?”

You’re looking at each other now.

“Take it day by day, Eds.”

“What if I want to skip ahead?”

There’s a lot hiding behind that question. The future is uncertain in many ways. He knows that he wants you, you know that you want him. That’s enough, but at the same time it isn’t. Day by day is easier than thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. He just loves you, which he’ll tell you soon. That’s what he wants to skip too.

On the other hand, you’re terrified. Giving into him again brought no shortage of anxiety about his past behaviour. Eddie Munson hurt you, twice. Second time worse than the first. You forgave him, yet the fear was still there. The question remained: what if he did it again? He wouldn’t, but what if he did? So taking it day by day, as it came, was easier. A shield, of sorts. Protection against hurt. 

Also, it was a lot more fun to act without consequence. To just be. 

Existing with him felt almost normal, even though there was nothing normal about the various interviews and photoshoots the rockstar has been doing promoting Assistance is Futile while in New York, or the long phone calls with his manager and bandmates in preparation for the release party. Nothing normal about your own career, which you’ve slowly been defrosting following the short heartbreak hiatus. Pivoting slightly towards acting as a new form of expression. So you’re reading scripts, rehearsing lines. All without expectations. Day by day.

“Skipping ahead means you, going back to LA for the release party,” you point out.

“You could come with me. The invitation is there, you know that.”

“There’s nothing I’d want more than to be there for you and the guys, Eddie, you know that.” You lean in closer, pressing your body weight into his. “But if I make an appearance, it will overshadow the album you worked really hard on and that’s not fair.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, pressing his lips to the side of your head, leaving a soft kiss while inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He slowly nods against you, understanding your point of view.

“So we won’t see each other for a while then, huh?”

“Well, I got that recurring part in Law & Order which is filming here, so that’s a couple of months, at least, that I’ll be stuck here in New York.”

“I can visit,” he jumps in almost instantly, “And you, maybe… You can come out to see me whenever you have breaks in filming?”

“Sounds good, Eds.”

There’s a moment of silence. It shifts towards the heavy side. Eddie’s biting his tongue. He wants so badly to tell you everything he’s been keeping secret, but he knows it’s not a good idea until Marianne confirms she’s consulted your team and the cease and desist letters have been sent out. He’s just not ready to say goodbye yet. Not even for a little while. He just got you back. You’re also lost in thought. Reuniting with the Corroded Coffin frontman has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, in the best way possible. Having him here, next to you once more, kissing and touching you. And you know it was limited. That time would come knocking and he’d have to go back, while you’d need to stay. Bittersweet would be the word to describe how you feel. 

“How about we focus on right now, hm?” You offer, lifting your head so that your sweet gaze catches his chocolate one. Then a short inhale later, you kiss him. Gentle, at first, although not quite a peck. His eyes close on impact as his hand reaches for your face, attaching itself like a magnet. Cradling, squeezing your cheeks. 

And you smile. Fucking smile. Eddie loves it when you smile while kissing him. It drives him crazy knowing his touch makes you that happy. So he can’t help but smile too. Teeth knocking against each other in the process. 

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” the rockstar admits.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, Eddie Munson.” 

The hand that held his toned abdomen just a mere second ago is now not so innocently sliding in a downward trajectory. You fiddle with his leather belt, unbuckling it rather effortlessly with one hand after you press your lips against his once more. Deeper this time. Wanting.

“But distracting me from a conversation about what’s mph… next,” he mumbles as you tug at his zipper. You’re not giving him a chance to breathe. “Isn’t going to - Jesus - work.”

“Okay,” you’re teasing. It’s a whisper and Eddie’s brain short circuits ‘cause your perfectly manicured fingers are sliding into his boxers, reaching for his semi.

-

“So, you guys are like back together now, huh?” 

Steve’s question lingers in the air for a moment. He’s glancing at his small-town friend turned worldwide phenomenon from across the table, swirling black coffee in his takeaway cup.

Eddie looks out the window at the clouds passing by. 

After getting over his initial fear of flying, since he hadn’t been on a plane until his early twenties, the rockstar decided he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. Things were peaceful up here — especially since he could now afford private jets. Just him and his guitar. Even when he travelled together with the guys, they all got lost in their own thing too, as did Marianne.

The upcoming release party however, prompted an invite to his little sister as well as Steve. So he knew that unfortunately this trip wasn’t going to be a quiet one.

“Something like that,” Eddie answers, turning his attention back to his friend.

Harrington nods. “That’s good, man. She’s great.”

“That she is.” Eddie fails to contain a smile.

“I’m happy for you.” Steve’s words are genuine.

“Thanks, dude.”

The short exchange is interrupted by Max’s snort. The two boys look at the redhead currently splayed out on one of the recliner seats. A book in her lap, one that she’s not really reading, but she’s keeping up appearances anyway.

“To think we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius,” she retorts, a smirk now present on her face.

Eddie laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking out the window again. His mind turns to you. He misses you, even though he saw you not even a half hour ago when you said goodbye before he got on the plane. He misses you. Anxiety building since neither of you are really sure when you’d be able to see each other next. “And that’s okay,” is what you said to him in between soft kisses. He’s repeating it now.

“She’s not coming to the party, right?” Red asks her older brother, briefly breaking Eddie away from his thoughts. 

The rockstar shakes his head. “No.”

“You’ll see her soon,” his sister reassures, reaching for his forearm across the aisle, squeezing. 

“I know, I know.” 

“Then why the sad face?” Steve points out.

Eddie wishes he was alone. Then no one would be questioning him, even though he knows it’s coming from a good place. They just care, he tries to level his emotions, they’re asking because they care.

“Our last goodbye wasn’t so good,” he answers plainly.

Luckily both Max and Steve understand. They exchange a glance between themselves before returning to whatever activity they were engaging in prior to the start of this conversation: Red buries her head in the book she wasn’t really reading and Harrington resumes listening to music on his Walkman.

Eddie is once again glancing out the small jet window. He’s once again thinking about you. 

And he continues to think about you when the plane lands. In the car, on the way to his Hidden Hills home. He continues to think about you when the house fills with people that are there to style him for the release party. He’s making small talk, his mind still centred on you.

You remain the centre of his attention, even when Eddie and the band arrive at the venue, and he’s being ripped ten thousand different directions. Picture here, sign this, talk to this person. He enjoys a drink and he’s still thinking about you. He’s wishing you were here. 

The guys are introduced to come up on stage and even though Eddie is on cloud nine for this release, super proud of the record they put together, he’s wishing you were here to celebrate this with him.

He thinks about you as he sings one of the songs. Breaking News — a song about you, of course.

There comes a point during the night, a split second during which Eddie stops thinking about you. Not for any particular reason. Nothing spectacular happens for him to do so, he just… does. But it’s only a fleeting moment. He regrets it as soon as he realises. He especially regrets it when Marianne approaches him, a concerned look spread across her usually composed features — although the rockstar doesn’t pick up on her expression immediately.

“What did you think of the performance?” Eddie asks, smiling wide.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for the half-empty glass in his hand and sets it aside before exhaling a sigh.

He furrows his brows, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

“Eddie, there’s been an accident.”

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[ynnova]

~caught~~~ for the tag game :3 excited to see what you do with that scenario

' GLIMPSES OF THE PAST ' ask game // caught 📼

caught – for a scene from my muse's past in which they were caught doing something they shouldn't.

time period . 2019 | wc . 1.2k | tw . language, a sexual joke, invasion of privacy, somewhat angst ending

hongjoong had been acting... strange. well, more strange than what's usual for him if you're being honest.

he had also been avoiding you, which is something he has never really done before. and honestly it’s starting to affect you in ways you didn't realize it before.

you assume he's just stressed about the upcoming comeback. his eyes never leaving his laptop, headphones on 24/7, and you were pretty sure everyone else in the dorm could hear seonghwa scolding him more than hongjoong did.

"what do you think hongjoong's been working on?" wooyoung asks one night while you and him are piled in his bed watching a movie.

"what are you talking about?" you ask, only half paying attention to what he is saying, eyes focused on the movie in front of you.

"on his laptop! he's been on it more than usual, think he's working on a secret project?" he pegs, making you sit up a little in order to look at your boyfriend.

"secret project?" you echo and he nods, sitting up as well.

"i mean... aren't you a little curious about what he's working on? not letting any of us see it," he says and you think about how wooyoung is kind of making a point.

"i guess... but is it really any of our business on what he's working on?"

"damn, didn't know you had such a boner for him," wooyoung jokes with a laugh making you roll your eyes as you shove him away from you. "awe, come on, babe, don't be like that. hyung is super handsome, i don't blame me, he gives me one too," wooyoung teases, wrapping his arms around you.

"whatever," you say with an annoyed tone that both of you know is fake. wooyoung smiles at you, kissing your cheek before you both seemingly let the conversation die as you both fall back into watching the movie.

you don't think about hongjoong's 'secret project' until a week later when you are in the recording studio with him and eden. you were the last one to record your lines, the others having finished and doing... whatever. you were sitting on the couch, patiently waiting your turn and looking over your lines. that's when your eyes drifted to hongjoong's laptop that was open. a singular folder titled 'y/n' with several files in it.

wait a minute.

why did that folder have your name on it?

your eyes went from hongjoong's laptop to the male himself who was sitting there talking to eden about the lines that had already been recorded. eden lets out a sigh before he's turning in his seat and standing up.

"we'll be right back, y/n, and then we'll start your recording," eden says and you nod your head watching as him and hongjoong leave the room.

leaving you alone... with hongjoong's laptop.

you know its wrong. you know you shouldn't, but you can't help figure out why he has a whole folder titled with your name.

so you move over to where you can better access his laptop, eyes darting to door, knowing that hongjoong could come back any minute. you gotta be fast.

they were all songs. several of them by the looks of it, all them untitled however. damn. was he writing songs about you? you felt your heart picking up at the thought of hongjoong – the guy you've had a crush on for several years now, writing not one, but several songs about you.

licking your lips, you clicked on the first file. letting it open the music software that hongjoong used when making songs, you noticed his headphones laying on the table and decided to pick them up. placing them on your ears, you clicked play and allowed the song to begin.

you are immediately greeted with hongjoong's voice, he's talking to you, addressing you personally.

"hey, y/n, this feels a little silly to be doing, but i don't know how else to tell you how i feel. i think," he takes a pause, "i've been feeling this special way about you for a while now. i've always admired how you work, so dedicated. i'm glad to have you as a member of ateez... as my... friend. you're someone i cherish," he says with a laugh. "i'm recording this in the middle of the night, its about two in the morning right now, and i know i should be sleeping, but i just can't."

you can imagine him sitting alone in his studio, mic pressed to his lips as he speaks into it, recording his thoughts. he probably has sleep-bags underneath his eyes, lips pouting and a hair slightly tossed from him running his fingers through it all night.

"i can't sleep when you're always on my mind. when i think you've made me fall in love with you... i think i love you, y/n. but i'm afraid to confess to you directly. i know... you're dating san, yunho, and wooyoung – i'm happy for you, but i also want to be someone you can love like that. someone you can call a lover and not just a captain." he lets out a sigh before he continues. "i think i'm jealous of our members, honestly. i can't tell you everything i feel in fear of you not returning my feelings, so i'll just dedicate these songs to you."

the file ends and you feel like a wave of emotions have crashed over you. how long has he felt like this? how long has he kept his feelings hidden from you?

you can't help but immediately play the next file, hitting play and letting the melody of the song start before hongjoong's voice – singing this time – fills your ears. you listen as he sings, the lyrics confessing his feelings and talking about how you make him feel. you were about a minute through the song before the headphones were suddenly ripped off your head.

turning your head, you make eye contact with an angry hongjoong. face red and you can only imagine smoke coming out of his nose.

"what the hell are you doing?" hongjoong asks, his tone something you have never heard before, at least not directed towards you that is. you find yourself opening and closing your mouth, but nothing coming out.

you watch as his eyes go to his laptop screen, he takes in what you had been listening to before he looks back at you in complete horror. "what have you done?" he asks in total disbelief.

"i-i- hongjoong– i," you stumble over your words, not knowing what to say.

"i can't believe you went through my stuff? you had no fucking right to do that, y/n!" he says, as he reaches over to pull his laptop towards himself, away from you.

"i-i'm sorry, hongjoong, i was just... i saw it had my name and–

"so you think that gave you a right to look at my stuff!?" he cuts off, voice loud and full of shock.

"hongjoong, can we– can we please talk about this?"

"talk about what? the fact you invaded my privacy, my feelings? fuck, what do you want me to say when you know how i feel already!"

"but do you know how i feel?"

he pauses, taking a step away before turning his back to you. "no," he breathes out, "i don't want to know anymore... in fact, i think i hate you more than anything right now. i think it's best if you don't speak to me for a while."

you're then left alone in the recording studio, heart feeling broken and tears running down your face. you really fucked up this time.

[transchesters]

sam and castiel spend their evening talking, leading dean to discover sam can speak ennochain, and sam doesn’t know what love means. inspired by this post from @wendibird !

"do you ever miss heaven? the way it used to be?" sam asks, lifting his eyes from the current men of letter's record that he is reading so he can meet castiel's eyes. the angel sits across the table from him sam and dean had just gotten back from a hunt, one that was pretty cut and dry, and now he and castiel are engaging in their own reading and research, enjoying the quiet company of one another while dean showers.

castiel glances up as well, setting down the leather-bound book he has been purusing. his brow furrows in the way it often does, the way that sam can't help but smild fondly at. "sometimes i do, yes," he answers after a moment of thought. "but then i recall that heaven was never..." he trails off, as if searching for the right words. "heaven was never as ideal and perfect as i had believed. i was ignorant and blinded by my devotion to my father, but with time and distance i have come to realize that heaven was not the home i thought it was."

sam nods silently, feeling a certain understanding for the slight grief he thinks he observes in castiel. "did you ever meet him? god, i mean?"

a fond, perhaps bittersweet smile pulls at castiel's lips as he nods. "yes. when i was created, he brought me down to earth and spoke to me about mankind. he entrusted me to care for his most beloved creations."

it's then that dean is steps into the doorway, pausing there at the domestic scene before him. he can’t help himself from eavesdropping, because what on earth could these two be talking about that has them looking all… lovey-dovey? as his brain processes the last things spoken, he realizes... he has no idea what the hell castiel had been saying. a confused expression pinches his face. had he been hearing things?

"how long ago was that?"

"you would not believe me if i told you."

"it used to be hard for me to comprehend just how old you are, or the earth and angels in general," sam starts, his own brow pinching a little, "back when we first met you. before... before the cage. but i think i understand better now." dean darts his eyes back and forth as the conversation continues, chills running down his back which cause goosebumps to erupt over his arms. as he watches, sam and castiel are switching from speaking english to... something else, and dean has no clue what.

actually, with a sudden realization, he does have a clue.

"your time there, it must have felt like... centuries. no wonder your ennochian is so good. does it bother you to speak it? i cannot imagine you have good memories of the language."

sam blinks, as if shocked by castiel’s compliment, which helps him ignore the memories that do in fact resurface. "really?" he asks, still oblivious to the minor panic attack he and castiel are subjecting dean to. "most of the time, i don't even realize i'm speaking ennochian. it just… happens, i guess. but i do like speaking it with you. i get to make new memories, with you." he doesn't try to hide the warmth behind the words as he usually does.

dean slams his book shut, suddenly unable to remain quiet. "you speak what? since when?!"

sam and castiel are both startled by the sudden exclamation, glancing over at the eldest winchester in sync, which makes dean wonder just how much he’s been missing.

"since the cage," sam answers after a moment, his brow furrowed. "i… guess i forgot to mention it."

dean scoffs, full of disbelief. "dude, what the hell? you can speak some weird, angelic language and forgot to mention it?"

"actually, the ennochian that sam speaks is even older than the tongue i am used to," castiel speaks up, as if that were a fact that would help diffuse the situation. now sam and dean both turn their confused glances at the angel, though dean is much more perturbed than sam.

"i didn’t know that," sam mumbles, sounding thoughtful at this new information. "i guess it makes sense, though. i learned from lucifer and michael, and they probably spoke a much older tongue than most angels." the names fall from his lips, coated in pain, but he ignores it.

castiel gets the sense that sam doesn't want to dwell on those names and that pain, so he just nods in agreement. "yes, i think that's the case."

"alright, y'know what, that's enough freakiness for me for the night. sam, we'll talk about this later." dean shakes his head as if disappointed, groaning as he turns on his heel and soon disappears down the hallway leading to his room. as usual, he doesn't notice the pinched and pained expression he's caused on sam's face.

sam heaves a sigh, folding his hands on the table in front of him and staring down at them as if they would provide some sort of answers. he flinches when, suddenly, castiel’s hand envelops his own.

"he speaks rashly, sam, and does not mean it maliciously," castiel says gently, meeting sam’s multicolored eyes with a smile. "he doesn’t understand."

sam tries to relax under castiel's touch and his gaze, his eyes so full of warmth and the understanding he doesn't get from his brother. but he doesn't want to think about dean right now; instead, he considers the fact that he and this wonderful angel have been dancing around whatever this was for quite some time now. but sam feels like they might be reaching a point they can't ignore any longer.

"cas…" sam trials off, because what is he supposed to say here? everything about this is wrong. castiel isn't supposed to think of him this way, isn't supposed to look at him with such fondness. "don't look at me like that. i'm just some human."

now it's castiel's turn to look pained, and he sits forward in his seat, leaning closer to the other. "sam, please, don't say such things about yourself. you are not filth."

sam's lips part in shock, but his clenching stomach stops him from speaking. "filth? i thought…" he swallows painfully and shakes his head. "lucifer called me that. i thought it meant human."

castiel lets out a sharp exhale, feeling a ball of rage grow in his stomach. "no. it doesn't." sam nods silently, leaning back in his seat which makes their hands pull apart. castiel can't help but chase the contact.

"don't we both deserve some comfort, after all of this? can't you see that i love you, very deeply, and i'm tired of hiding it?"

sam blinks, his brow furrowed as he tries to place some of the words he can't recognize. "love?" he repeats, the ennochian word foreign on his tongue. "what is that word? i don't think i've heard it." he grows even more confused when castiel gazes at him with a profound sadness. the angel squeezes his hand, almost tight enough to be painful, but sam doesn't complain.

"love. it means love, sam. i was saying that i love you."

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana. 🌶️

Pairing: Harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: hi hello!!! long time no update. been sitting on the first half of this for months and wrote the second half over the last two days. I love this story and honestly at this point I’m writing it for myself and everyone else enjoying it is just a plus. If you’re still hanging in there with me, thanks 🩷

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, weed, mentions of past abusive relationship, body image issues, shitty parent relationship, smut

Word count: 8K

VII.

Two weeks had gone by in a flash while working full time at your dads office. It really wasn’t all that bad, and everyone that worked there had either known you your whole life, or they knew your dad well enough to not give you a hard time- whether it’s because they figured he gave you a hard enough time anyway, or they were afraid of him, you weren’t too sure.

Eddie and the guys seemed to have moved on from the record deal and decided to not sign it, and you were thankful because you were afraid they’d be making a huge mistake in doing so, but you didn’t miss the lack of spark that your boyfriend had shown the last two weeks- he’d canceled Hellfire one night, and was threatening to cancel it now at 4 pm, a few hours before it was supposed to start.

“C’mon, what else are you going to do?” You asked him, the work phone between your shoulder and ear as you were busy with some paperwork.

“Practice, and maybe practice some more. We’re having a really hard time nailing down Maiden’s ‘Wasted Years’ for our show.” You heard him sigh, and tapping his fingers on something at his work through the other end of the phone line.

“Babe, the song just came out a little while ago. I don’t think anyone expects perfection, and you don’t have to play it until you’re ready to.”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking, “I just can’t stop thinking about what if another scout is out there at the next show and we don’t blow them away? We could’ve just missed our chance to make it big.”

“Eddie, you didn’t. I promise.” You twirled the phone cord, “Steve said Dustin is driving him insane because he’s been bugging him since all you’ve been doing is practicing with the band or seeing me- you need to spend some time with them.”

“I don’t need the guilt from you too.” He said quickly.

“I’m not guilting you- I’m just trying to help you keep things normal as you… your brain adjusts to the meds.” Eddie had taken the doctors orders and actually complied with taking the medication he needed for two weeks straight. The first week was the worst- the mood swings were a little more unpredictable, and the anxiety was heightened but you could tell he was starting to level out a little now by the end of the second week. He was even getting better sleep already, and he hadn’t woken up from a nightmare since the third night.

“I’m doing better already. Do you want me to take you on a date or something instead?”

“Eddie, why don’t you want to have Hellfire tonight? You do every single Friday night.”

“I just… I don’t wanna feel different for that. I don’t wanna lose my spunk with it.”

“Do you really feel like you’ve lost it in other ways?” This was the first he’d mentioned any of this, and you really wish you weren’t having this conversation over the phone, but you knew it was probably easier for him to tell you these things without being face to face.

“I mean, kinda, I can’t get the riffs right on that goddamn song to save my life.”

You laughed, “Eddie. That song is a completely different sound from almost any other Maiden song, I heard you playing it the other morning before I walked out of your bedroom. You’ve got it. If anything, I think you’re focusing and you’re trying harder than you ever have before. Plus, this is Hellfire we’re talking about here- you are the most dramatic person I know, including right now, you could never lose your flair for dramatics. Do you want me to DM tonight, or something? I can pull out one of my old campaigns if you haven’t already stolen them all.”

“Would you?” He sounded sheepish as he asked the question.

“I may need some assistance in refreshing on actually how to properly be a dungeon master but I think I can swing that for once. If everyone’s okay with it.” You scribbled down some ideas you’d had as you listened to Eddie go on about how the guys usually played out the campaigns and you knew exactly which one you wanted to try out on them tonight.

-

“Never thought a Harrington would grace the table of Hellfire Club. Welcome.” Dustin spoke to you as you sipped on a glass of whiskey over ice.

“Henderson, who do you think Eddie got some of those twisted campaign ideas from? His little pea brain?” Gareth quipped at Dustin immediately.

“Hey!” Eddie said from the corner of the room, as you blew a kiss at him.

“I told you, we started Hellfire together back in middle school. Were you even born then?”

“What?! I’m not that young.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

“She’s not joking.” Gareth nudged Dustin- who’d looked all too confident when he learned you’d be the dungeon master tonight. “I almost cried once.”

You had to turn away to keep from laughing and avoid spitting out the alcohol in your mouth. You were feeling warmed up, but nervous as you waited for everyone to get to Eddie’s music store where he hosted the games in the back room. You loved the cozy feeling of it versus using a room at your school that you had to beg and plead for, and Eddie had told you it had been a fight to keep it going during high school without you being in the club to be the representative for it. He claimed they would’ve let you have any room in the schpracticeool if you asked for it, while they were begrudgingly given the drama room and even then sometimes they had to move a campaign night because of play practice running over. The back room was decked out with band posters, show flyers- new and old, and some odds and ends mounted on the wall.

“Ready, my love?” Your heart swooned at Eddie who’d also been sipping whiskey all night, his ringed hand was clutching a glass similar to yours, except his was a little more empty than yours. You loved how into character he always got, and you felt butterflies as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and kissed your temple. “Thanks for being willing to step up tonight.”

“I can’t say that it’ll happen often, but you owe me big time, Munson.” You locked eyes with his crazy wide brown ones.

“Oh believe me, I know how I’m paying you back tonight.”

“Then you better stop drinking now before you get whiskey dick, babe.” You whispered in his ear, and kissed his earlobe, your teeth lightly biting it- thankful his curtain of hair could hide your actions. Okay, maybe you were two glasses of whiskey deep now. But you didn’t have the energy you used to and you needed everything you could to pull tonight off.

Everyone had taken a seat at the table, Eddie had lent you his seat at the head of the table, and he scooted a chair up beside yours to help you if you needed it. You were excited, nervous, but mostly you were just happy that Eddie had decided to not cancel tonight. You could tell that he was really in his element here, and this normalcy was what he really needed.

“Alright everyone. Get nice and cozy, because we’re gonna be here all night long.” You sat down and rifled through your notes, smiling at a few of the add ons Eddie had scribbled down, god only knows when, as you started the campaign. You took a sip of your half refilled glass, then cleared your throat and started speaking. “Tonight, we’re in the kingdom of Evercrest.” You heard Gareth groan across the table and you shot him a look, he knew that you had many campaigns written for this kingdom. You remember that some of these used to take two or three sessions to finish, but they were some of your best work, honestly.

“Never heard of that one.” Mike quipped as he crunched on a Pringle.

“Shush.” Eddie snapped beside you, and you held back some giggles.

“Tonight we’ll be playing the Shadows of Evercrest. One of the darkest and most mysterious kingdoms of all- it’s a kingdom on the brink of being completely engulfed by darkness brought on by dark magic and ancient curses. Most recently, there have been many disappearances in the kingdom. Each disappearance has brought the kingdom closer and closer to being overthrown.”

Everyone was dead silent as they looked at you in shock as you felt yourself returning back to your old ways of being a dungeon master. You had the entire attention of the whole table, and you started to get sweaty hands. Eddie placed a gentle hand on your leg and squeezed it, you looked at him- his eyes were full of admiration as he encouraged you to continue on.

An hour into gameplay, you had another drink and you were feeling bold enough to reveal the first twist of the night.

“Elara’s influence in the kingdom is growing stronger, but how? When you’ve all been so successful so far.” You sipped and placed your glass down to your left. “There is a traitor among the allies.” Gasps were heard from all around.

“No! Absolutely not!” Dustin exclaimed, slamming his fist down, “that’s-”

“That’s how it goes, my friend. Elara has enchanted an ally, with her dark magic.” You waved your hand over them as if you were a witch yourself, pretending to cast a spell over them. “The illness that swept over Evercrest took her sister, and now she has plagued the kingdom with these disappearances seeking revenge in the name of her sister. The ally has been enchanted by her.” You kept on, “Will you confront your former ally and try to redeem them, or will you cut ties and focus on stopping Elara’s plans?” You sat back in the chair and watched as the group was talking amongst themselves and deciding what to do.

“Can we break?” Will asked as he raised his hand, almost afraid of what you were going to say.

“Absolutely.” Eddie answered for you, grabbing your notebook from the table so no one could peek, then clutching your hand and dragging you out the side exit door of the breakroom into the dark alleyway. “You. Have. No. Idea. What. You’re. Doing. To. Me.” He pinned you against the brick wall kissing your neck between words, the coldness was a harsh contrast to the warmth from his mouth. “Fuck, you’re such a goddamn nerd too, driving me crazy when you’re like this.” He nipped at your neck and worked his free hand over your body as you bit back moans.

“Never knew I did this to you, Eddie.” You chuckled as you entwined a hand of yours into his curls, letting him continue to scatter kisses over your exposed neck and chest. “Don’t leave a mark, they’ll know.”

“As if my raging boner isn’t enough of a hint, fuck.” He was out of breath as he pressed his forehead against yours. “That, t-that’s my girl back there. Not that bullshit cheerleader who was a fucking bully in high school.” You kissed him on the lips and he pulled you close by your neck. “I don’t wanna go back in there, ‘wanna take you right here.” His hand slid down to your lower back, then to your ass where he squeezed it and pulled it to meet his groin where he was very obviously hard.

“Eddie, we can’t. I promise as soon as we get back to your place we can, we’ve still got another few hours left.”

He quickly shook his head as he smothered you with more kisses, “can’t wait that long.”

“You’re gonna have to.” You pushed him off of you gently, grabbed the book from him and opened the door, walking back into the room, grabbing water and sitting back down in your chair. The rest of the room were gathered in separate groups, probably discussing game plans, and your absence didn’t seem to have been a problem for anyone to bring up thankfully. A few minutes later, a more calm (and obviously now high) Eddie returned to his seat beside you and winked at you, giving you a sinking feeling in your stomach that felt like butterflies mixed with a bit more of a tornado feeling.

“Alright, everyone ready to keep on?” You interrupted their quiet discussions.

“Question is, can you two kids keep it in your pants till we’re through?” Dustin joked as he sat down.

“Ask her, she’s the one who-” you lightly slapped Eddie on the chest to shut him up.

“Excuse you.” You fussed at him and everyone groaned. “It was all him, I swear.”

They all settled down and got ready, and the next two hours flew by. Finally you were getting to the end, and you were really proud of how everyone had handled your twists and turns to the campaign. You stood up to announce the next twist, “As you’ve now successfully uncovered all of Elara’s tragic past, you’ve all ended your quest at her lair, of all places. Hundreds of undead minions are waiting for you to cross her. Will you turn around now, after all of this? Or will you fight?”

“We’re going to fight.” Dustin answered for the group.

“Your death.” Erica chimed in and you held in a little laugh.

You went to sit back down, only to be met with the lap of your boyfriend instead of the chair, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. No one let out a groan of grossness at this show of affection, so you leaned into it.

The game continued, “Elara summons even more undead creatures to attack you in her lair.” Everyone fought on, played their hardest that they could to defeat Elara, and you could feel Eddie beaming proudly behind you. “In a moment of redemption, Elara hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face as she gazes upon those who have fought so bravely to stop her. In a final act of sacrifice, she uses her remaining power to banish the darkness that has consumed her and restore peace to the kingdom, her spirit finally finding peace as she fades into the shadows. Thanks to all of you heroes for bravely planning along tonight, and saving the kingdom from an eternity of darkness.” You raised your last sip of your glass at everyone as they cheered triumphantly at their win, and you felt Eddie place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You could feel his hips slowly moving underneath your ass as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and sat sideways. “Munson, calm down.”

“Can’t, gotta get some relief. I had to use you to hide it.” He pulled you in for a kiss and you heard a few of the younger “kids” groan out their ewws at your sign of affection, to which you both held up your middle fingers as you continued to kiss each other.

“Alright, we’ll meet again next week.” Eddie pulled back from the kiss abruptly, and loudly announced to the group. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I forgot to close out a few things for the store tonight because I was too excited about having a guest DM so we’ve gotta stay back and do that anyway. You all can go.” He pushed you off of his lap, quickly, and everyone left the room in groups or pairs, the same ones they arrived in. You were browsing the dark music store that only had a few neon lights and lamps on as everyone seemed to have disappeared.

“Could you have been any more obvious, Munson?” You asked as you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind.

“I reaaaaally don’t give a fuck what they know, or think.” He pushed your hair to the side and started kissing behind your ear and you leaned back into him. His hot breath tickled and you shivered, “I also reaaaaally don’t think I can wait till we get home.” His hand was traveling down your stomach and you felt his fingers playing with the hem of your mini skirt. You didn’t stop him as he danced it up higher on your thighs, your body weight leaning more and more into his chest. Your arms were hanging onto his neck as your skirt was now bunched up at your waist, and he was playing with the waistband of your panties.

“Here? S’dark in here but what if someone sees?”

“Don’t give a damn baby, it’s my store, my rules. Now bend over.” He smirked into your neck and pulled your ass against his hard dick, you could feel how thick he was through his jeans already. One of his hands was pulling your lace panties to the side, while his other was skillfully undoing his belt buckle. “You wore these tonight, were you expecting something?”

Honestly, you weren’t. You just hadn’t done laundry to have any other of your more normal underwear clean. “No, promise.”

His hand grabbed at your bare ass cheek and he pulled back and slapped it, “anyone could’ve seen these, you know that, right?” You smirked at his possessiveness, it felt different than when your ex had been possessive. You knew Eddie was proud of you, and you also knew how talkative he was when he was this turned on, so you just let him keep going. You nodded to go along and felt his fingers tease your entrance. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet. I’m surprised you didn’t leave a mark on my jeans.” He lazily rubbed his fingers between the lips of your pussy, and you arched your back to beg for more than what he was giving you, pressing your hands into the wooden record display for support.

“Fuck, stop teasing me.” You looked back and saw him smirking, as he unzipped his jeans and let them slide down his thighs. He started lazily stroking up and down his dick, matching the pace of his slow fingers that were touching you earlier.

“You should know all about teasing, shouldn’t you? Grinding your ass on me, leaning over that fucking table tonight so I could just almost see what I wanted. Wanted to shove that skirt up and lick you clean tonight.” He stroked himself quicker and quicker, “You ready for me, babe?” He asked as he teased your entrance with his hard length, and you whimpered as he teased you with an inch or so, then pulled back out. He kept on a few times until you’d had enough and you thrust your hips back to take his whole length, making him grab onto your hips. “Fuck yeah,” Eddie grunted as he fucked into you and steadied your hips. The store was quiet except the low humming of the neon lights, and your quiet, low moans.

He pulled your hair in a makeshift ponytail with his hands and yanked your head up to his. “You drive me crazy, baby, do you know that? Can’t believe you’re mine after all these years.” He was relentless as he pounded into you, a skilled hand snaking around your front and circling your clit to bring you to your height of pleasure.

You felt yourself clenching around him as he kept a steady pace, and you came quickly before he followed suit, and allowing himself to collapse onto you.

“Goddamn, I can’t last more than a few minutes with you ever, can I?” You could feel his cheeks warm against your back as he chuckled and twitched inside.

“It’s fine, really. You’ve made up for it plenty of other times.” He let out a sharp sigh as he pulled out of you, and helped you fix your outfit and then his own. You both were smirking at each other as you wandered around the store.

“Ready to go?” He asked as he swung the keys around his pointer finger.

“I thought you had to- you’re such a bullshitter, Munson.” You realized he’d lied to everyone about needing to do something at the shop to get everyone to leave earlier.

“Maybe so, Harrington, maybe so.” He opened the door for you and you followed out after he finished locking the doors to the music store.

-

“They trust you with this?” You eyed your brother as you helped him scoot the grill out onto the patio around the pool.

“Mom and dad barely use it, so I taught myself how to a while ago.”

“Shocked that you haven’t burned the house down yet.” You muttered to him and he rolled his eyes back in return. It was an oddly warm fall Sunday, so you (Steve) had decided to have everyone over for a pool party, which you were sure would turn into a night party too. Absent parents were a plus sometimes, and you had Monday off of work because your dad had decided to close for the day.

You were both busy setting up the food and drinks in the kitchen when someone rang the doorbell, so you jogged to the front door to let them in.

In a line, all of the “kids” walked in, Dustin being last and giving you a high five as if you were Steve. You could tell they felt comfortable here as they piled in and made themselves comfortable before heading out back.

“We just… let them party?” You asked, coming around the kitchen corner to your brother.

“Nah, maybe a beer or two but they know the rules. I’m still the babysitter a little bit. Where’s Eddie?”

You shrugged, he was supposed to be here early to help you two get ready but he was either early, or late- never on time, but it was unusual that you hadn’t heard from him. “Must be running late.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at you as he sliced tomatoes. “What?” He asked as you eyed him.

“Just, not like him, that’s all.” You watched as he arranged the tomatoes and lettuce on a plate for burgers. “Alright, what do you know? You’ve never been so precise about where toppings for a burger go on a plate. I really don’t see anyone who’s coming even putting a vegetable on their burger.” You crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the counter.

“Nothing.” He moved on to cutting up an onion, and you snatched the knife from his hand.

“Steve.” He said your name back to you in the same sassy tone. “What do you know?”

He sighed, “He didn’t wanna come because it’s a pool party, and he’s nervous about everyone seeing his scars. So he said he was gonna say something came up with the store so he didn’t have to come, then come later tonight.”

You frowned, you felt bad for Eddie because he was so sensitive about his appearance. Everyone knew what they were from, but you guessed that no one had seen him since the wounds had healed, he didn’t strike you as the shirtless guy at a pool type even before, but especially now.

“I’m gonna go call him really quick, can you handle everything for a minute?” You asked Steve as you handed him his knife back, and he seemed to be finishing up any prep work that needed to be done.

The phone line rang three times as you sat on your bed waiting for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” It was Wayne, which took you by surprise.

“Hey uncle Wayne, it’s me. Is Eddie there?”

“Yeah, he’s practicin’ right now. Want me to get him for you?”

“Please.” You chewed on your lip, debating telling him it’s an emergency to hopefully have a better chance at getting him on the phone but you didn’t want to add to any anxiety he already has. You heard multiple footsteps before you heard the phone cord clinking against the plastic phone.

“Hey baby.” He sounded sweet and… oblivious?

“Hey, are you coming over? Steve’s about to get the grill going I think, and I’m kinda worried that he’s going to set something on fire, or give us all food poisoning.”

“I’m uh, I’m gonna come over later. Still practicing some today, and not really feeling like I wanna swim. Wayne’s home too and-”

“Steve told me you’re worried about everyone seeing your scars.” You blurted it out, immediately regretting it.

“I-I… yeah.” He sighed. You couldn’t see him, but you were willing to bet he was running his hand over his face and through his hair right now. “I know everyone’s got them, and they saw me all fucked up but, you know how I am.”

“Eddie, they’re your friends. And you don’t have to even swim, just come hang out with everybody. No ones gonna pressure you to swim.” You paced your room and looked out the back window of your room that overlooked the pool. Robin had arrived and was wearing a button up top, unbuttoned over her swimsuit. Steve was of course shirtless already with his swim trunks on, and all the younger kids were in the pool swimming. Nancy was in a cute striped one piece, and Jonathan had on shorts and a t-shirt. “Not everyone is swimming, and no ones gonna care if you don’t.”

“You really don’t think they’ll care?”

“No, Eddie. Come on over.”

He sighed, “Alright, give me a few minutes and I’ll leave. If I get pushed in, I’m blaming you.”

“Okay, you can fully blame me if someone else pushes you into the pool.” You laughed at him.

“Don’t wanna mess this hair up either, I’m actually having a really good hair day today.”

You giggled again at the thought of his mop of a mane getting wet from the pool, “I’m sure you are, every day is a good hair day for you.”

“Alright, Harrington.” He said, emphasizing the “hair”, “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up and ran down the stairs, and headed straight for the backyard.

“He’s coming but he’s not gonna swim, and please don’t push him in.” You said to your brother as he was crouched down getting the grill going, or at least attempting to.

“Thank god because I have no idea how to start this stupid thing.” He stood up and you were seeing his scars for the first time, too. The one on his face was obviously there and you were used to it, but it was so much smaller. You guys had been night swimming a few times since you had been home, but you hadn’t paid much attention or seen them like you could right now. He had one on the left of his abdomen that still looked pretty gnarly.

“I didn't realize how bad-”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad, I know. Well, it was. I think just pretending they’re not there is the only way I can act like things are back to normal now.” He spoke softly as he pushed his sunglasses back up on his nose. “Gonna go grab a drink, you want one?”

“Just a water is fine for now.” You said as he walked away, the scars on his back just as pink as the ones on his front. You found Robin settled in on a pool chair and sat at the foot of her chair. She had already found a beer and was watching the kids play a game of chicken. Max and Lucas were very clearly about to win against Mike and Will.

“Your lover not gonna make it?”

“He’s on his way, he was a little hesitant to come over to swim.” You said, and Robin nodded, thankfully understanding what you were meaning without saying anything.

“I think he has the hardest time with it all because he thinks he should’ve died.” She said very bluntly, sitting back in the lounger. Steve walked over and tossed you a water, then returned back to the grill. “Like, he actually did. And the scars are just another reminder- as if any of us need one, and I don’t think he wants to be a burden and make anyone remember it anymore than we already do, you know?” You nodded, realizing again how little you had understood about what everyone had been through while you were gone, despite hearing so much about it all from them. “He had it the worst of us, but you know that. Steve was pretty fucked up too. He waited until Eddie was even somewhat stable before he got himself looked at, they could have patched him up way better but he wouldn’t leave his side.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah. Days. He spent days after we’d all been evaluated, cleaned up, stitches or whatever we needed before he said that he needed any medical attention other than what we could see on his face. Nancy finally told him he smelled like blood and sweat and needed to go before he ended up with an infection. I'm still not convinced he didn’t get rabies from those bats... She had to pry him away from Eddie’s bedside. Steve said he felt responsible for him dying, because Eddie sacrificed himself to save him for you.” She was staring out at the pool still, talking about all of this as if it were some lighthearted conversation, and you were left speechless. “When the doctors got their hands on Steve they couldn’t believe how much pain he was in for that many days and didn’t even flinch because he was so good at hiding it, but when they asked him to lie back on the hospital bed to get looked at, he was crying in pain. It was pitiful.”

You still didn’t know what to say as you fumbled with your water bottle. “I hate that I wasn’t here.”

“No, don’t say that. I mean, I hate that you were where you were, but you didn’t want to be here. In Hawkins, or the upside down.”

“I just wish I could’ve been there for them more. Anyone. You guys are so close and I feel like I’m just invading on this, and adding more to it all.”

“No, you’re good for everyone. You being back has helped Steve, and obviously Eddie too. That idiot is crazy about you. When he woke up and found out what had happened to the town, the first thing he asked about was some book in his trailer that none of us knew what he was talking about until Wayne got there after Steve called him to tell him his vitals were improving drastically.”

“What book was it?” You asked, not sure what he could’ve been talking about.

“We all thought he meant his copy of The Hobbit but he was talking about some dungeons and dragons notebook.” Your heart stopped as Robin rambled on longer, for minutes before you realized you weren’t listening at all.

You two settled into a normal conversation, but you kept thinking about the notebook that Eddie was worried in the back of your head until he arrived, he made a quiet entrance versus his usual display of dramatics. He was dressed in a ripped up, sleeveless Slayer tshirt and a very holey pair of black jeans, and a pair of black converse that you rarely saw him in. His hair was tied back loosely and he had a black bandana around his head too. You stopped mid sentence with Robin as you watched him gravitate towards Steve as if he automatically knew he needed help.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for Munson, don’t you?”

“Shut it, Robin.” You slapped her ankle playfully and she laughed at you.

“Have you guys said the l word yet?”

You looked at him again before looking over to her, “No, it hasn’t been that long yet.” You knew Robin was such a romantic at heart- she thought your story of two best friends torn apart, then reunited as “lovers” was the best plot for a romantic story.

“Hasn’t been that long?! You guys were friends for how long before this? And you both knew you had something for each other this whole time?! Come on!” She threw her hands up in the air. “Just say it and see what he says.”

Except, you knew how Eddie felt about the word. There were some things some people- most people actually, didn’t know about his life before he was living with Wayne full time. The only time he heard the word love and it actually meant something was his mom, and he didn’t hear it but a few times from her. And if his dad ever said it, it was when he was quite literally beating love into him. It was a subject you weren’t really ready to introduce into your relationship yet, and you didn’t want to be the one to push it on him either. You were following the cracks of the concrete around the pool until a pair of unlaced shoes caught your attention.

Eddie squatted down to your level of the pool chair and lifted your chin up with his two fingers before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips. “Hi.” He said, his cheeks rosy, and his eyes were a little bit bloodshot to match.

“Hi.” You giggled back, “You okay?”

“Smoked on the way over here, never been better.”

“I’ll leave you two alone, have at it.” Robin got up, abandoning her chair. Eddie replaced her at the top of the chair and motioned for you to scoot up between his legs. You settled with your back on his chest, as his arms wrapped around your body.

“Glad you decided to come. I missed you.” You said as you traced the faint scars on his forearms that were showing.

“Just saw me last night at the show, Harrington. But thanks for making me come here, I think it’ll be good.”

“I didn’t make you come here,” you defended, “I was just trying to get you out of the house and that head of yours for a bit.”

“I know.” He kissed the side of your head, “and I’m thanking you for it.” You’d half expected him to retort back with some type of a half argument comment like he was actually trying to say that you did force him to come here, but you could tell he genuinely was glad to be there. You snuggled in closer to him.

“I think your meds are working, you normally would have said something a little smarter than that back to me.” You said out loud.

“Yeah, I feel less on edge all the time now. ‘S kinda nice.” He hummed.

“Should you be smoking weed while you’re taking it?” You feel him shrug against you. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Guess we will.” He said.

“I need to run upstairs and change, keep an eye on Steve to make sure he doesn’t burn anything, please.”

“You sure you don’t need any assistance?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes as you made your way back inside to change into your swimsuit.

The first one you grabbed was an older black one that was a two piece bikini, you were a bit less curvy back in high school but you figured it would still fit. You slipped the bottoms and the top on and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your shape had changed so much, not necessarily for the worse by any matter, but you could hear the comments from your mom or Charlie in your head as you took yourself in from every angle in the mirror.

A soft knock rapped on the door, then it slowly opened and you weren’t one bit surprised to see Eddie there. His jaw was slack as he stuttered out a compliment. “Y-you look great.”

You blushed and tucked your arms in front of your tummy, attempting to hide your few pounds, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I mean it. You look healthy. I know what you’re thinking. I haven’t forgotten what your mom used to say to you. I haven’t either.” He closed the door quietly behind him, then walked over towards you.

“How come I have to be the one confident about my body, but you get to hide yours?” You asked him as he enveloped you in a warm hug and rubbed your soft back.

“That’s a conversation I’m willing to have another day, sweetheart. You don’t have to swim either.”

“But I want to. All I have are bikinis though.”

“And you look fine in it.” He hugged you tighter, but then his arms dropped, “what’s that?”

“What’s what?” You pulled back to look at him and he was focused on your closet. “Oh, that’s just some old high school crap. C’mon, let’s go down to the pool so they don’t think we’re up to something.”

Eddie shook his head as he made his way over to your closet. He didn’t have to stand on his tiptoes to grab the shoebox from the top shelf of your closet. “I know exactly what this is.” He made himself comfortable on the floor of your room, and opened the lid. The laugh that escaped his lips almost sounded like a bit of a cry as he started to pick through the papers and pictures.

“C’mon, Eddie. I’m not in the mood for reliving the past right now.”

“Oh I am. Look at how cute we were.” He showed you a photo of the two of you, and some of your old friends from middle school. “God, I was such a nerd.”

“Was?” You asked as you sat down beside him and watched him carefully dig through your possessions. You watched as he pulled out each picture, most of them had a tiny hole in the corner from a push pin where they’d been displayed in your room. “Had to take all these down in 9th grade when I had my first sleepover with Grace. I didn’t want her to make fun of me. I don't think I’ve looked at any of them since.”

Your slightly shaky hand started to sift through the box too, finding a picture from your birthday party in 8th grade- the year your parents had the pool put in. Eddie was beside you, his arm loosely around your shoulder, and you were both grinning from ear to ear, everyone else at the party had smiles too, but none as bright as the two of yours. There was a picture stuck to the back of that one, and it was of you blowing out your birthday candles. Eddie was staring- yes, staring at you with nothing but admiration in his eyes. You realized then that Robin really was right about the two of you. Eddie had found a letter that you both would pass back and forth between classes and was smiling behind his hand as he read it, his eyes seemed to be shrink wrapped with tears ready to fall.

“Man, we were fucking clueless, weren’t we?” He said out loud.

You took a deep breath, “clueless to what?”

“Each other. I’m pretty sure I was in love with you back then.” He continued on, not realizing what he’d said.

“Back then?” You asked, picking at the corner of the picture in your hands.

“Yeah, back then. Look at this,” he pointed to a part of the letter and read it aloud to you as you giggled along. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you went along with him as you continued pulling out old pictures and letters, some DnD notes, and random little trinkets.

Your heart was aching to say something to him but you didn’t want to press it, so you abruptly stood up and grabbed the box from him, putting the lid back in it.

“That’s enough for right now.” You stood on your tippy toes to place the box back in the top of your closet, where dust had settled around the edges of it for sitting in the same spot for so long.

“I can’t believe you kept all those. Even after the years you were so mean to me.” Eddie came up behind you and took the box from your hands and effortlessly returned it to its place.

“You know me, I keep everything.” You were a little nervous now, not sure where the conversation was going.

“What about pictures of him?” Eddie asked, his voice laced with disgust.

“Eddie, come on. You really think I’d keep any of him? I threw all the ones I had out in Chicago, and Steve got all of the ones out of the house before I made it home.”

“I’m shocked he didn’t make you burn your pictures with me.” He scoffed, pacing around your room.

“He didn’t know I had those.” You watched him scratch at his neck as he kept pacing. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“While we’re on the subject of keeping things… Robin told me that my DnD notebook was one of the first things you asked about after you woke up.”

“Yeah, I was worried that you would kill me if we ever talked again and I’d lost it.”

“Lost it? Eddie, I didn’t even know that thing still existed until you showed it to me.”

“Well. It’s the one thing that I had of you, of yours that was still… you. You know? You just switched in freshman year to this completely different girl desperate to fit in. I tried calling you, but your mom always made up whatever excuse you told her. Cheerleading practice, or at Grace’s house, or whatever it was. Finally I just gave up after you started looking at me with disgust at school if we saw each other. Then your sophomore year I knew I was never going to get you back, you were long gone.”

“But I’m back now.” You said quietly.

“Yeah, but at what cost?” He let out a disparaging smile, “You were with that abusive piece of shit for all of those years, and I was here rotting in Hawkins, being the freak of the town and then almost dying. Now you’re back, and you’re just… you’re back in my life again. But nothing is the same.” He sounded defeated.

You looked at him with tears in your eyes, and you felt your heart crumpling down.

“Eddie, I’m sorry.”

“Everyone is. Everyone is so sorry about what happened, aren’t they?”

“Eddie, please.” You grabbed his arm as he tried to walk out. He pulled it away from you, then turned to face you.

“I loved you, but you didn’t see it. You didn’t care, you just wanted to be the popular girl, you wanted everyone to love you. Sweetheart, none of those people did, except me.”

“I never told my mom to make up lies about where I was. I didn’t know you ever tried to call me. I thought you hated me for joining the cheerleading team.”

“Hate you? I could never hate you. Fuck- all of that bullshit you said to me in high school and look where we’re at now.” His chest was heaving, and you were feeling woozy from the emotional whiplash of the conversation.

“Where are we now?” You asked, afraid of the answer. Eddie’s hands slowly reached up to your face, and he didn’t miss the tiny flinch you made as you realized he was about to touch you.

“I think you know where I’m at.” His hands were resting on either side of your jaw, and his thumbs were slowly moving in circles as he looked you in the eyes, searching for something. “I said I could never hate you, didn’t I?” You nodded slowly at him, “it’s because I never stopped loving you.”

He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“Eddie, I love you too.” You said, placing your hands over his and squeezing them. You watched as his eyes squeezed so hard that tears started falling.

“Don’t say it just because I said it. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, you know-” he started getting himself riled up the more he spoke.

“I do know, and that’s why I’m saying it. I love you.” His eyes were still shut and he was breathing through his nose. “Look at me.” You grabbed his face to move it to yours and watched as his eyes opened up. “I can’t say it enough, I love you, Eddie.” He leaned in after he accepted your confession and kissed you again, still a quick kiss, but so much feeling behind it. “And I promise you, all of those people out there love you too. But not… not as much as I do.”

He smiled at you before grabbing your hand and leading you downstairs, and back out to the pool. To your surprise, no one made any comments about the two of you being gone together, and not as much time must have passed as you thought because Steve was just putting burgers and some chicken on the grill. Eddie kissed the side of your head before he went to the cooler for a beer and resumed his stand beside your brother.

Alright, you confessed your love to him, so why do you feel like you could hurl up the last 3 days worth of food as you stared at him?

“Grabbing a beer, you want one?” Nancy placed a hand on your shoulder and asked as she walked by you standing on the hot concrete, and you nodded a quick yes to her.

“Thanks.” You said as she handed one back to you.

“You alright? You look a little bit sick to your stomach.”

“Yeah, just hanging in there. We had another one of those big conversations and I feel a little off.”

“C’mon, walk it off and come sit over here with us and forget about it for a minute.” You followed her over to where Jonathan and Robin both were talking in depth about some movie ending and why it should’ve ended differently.

“Hey guys.” You sat down, sharing a chair with Robin again. You started drinking your beer quickly as they changed the conversation and you joined in as you heard laughter and splashing in the background. Minutes later, it all stopped. Everything. The laughing, the splashing, and any noise other than the few birds that were still around.

You four looked to the pool. Everyone’s head was accounted for, and then you looked over at the grill where Steve was laughing as he flipped a burger. Steve, just Steve. Where was Eddie? Suddenly you were being lifted up by a very cold, wet body and were getting thrown into the pool, beer in hand and all.

“What the fuck?!” You said as you came up from the water. Eddie was also… in the pool with you. Shirtless, but his jeans on.

“Dustin made a bet and I had to follow up on my end.” He swooped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. “Love you.” He kissed you on the lips before he let go of you and swam to the side of the pool. He pushed himself out of the water, making a show of his wet hair, then pulled his jeans off to be left just in his boxers.

“Hey man, put some trunks on.” Steve yelled at him before putting the lid down on the grill and running inside. He jogged back out with a pair of his red ones and tossed them at Eddie’s chest, “for your decency.” He said with a smirk, and Eddie put them on and hopped in the pool with everyone else, and a fresh beer for you.

[caxde]

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, one night he comes earlier than he should and gets to enjoy himself

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n part 2 is up!

Steve always took his showers in the morning. 

You preferred them at night. 

Sharing a small flat with him was a quiet experience. He’d spent most of his time out of it anyway, preferring to study at the University library, or at the coffee shop you had down the corner. Or working half shifts in the small record store, where you also worked. 

Roommate and coworker Steve were two very different people. 

Roommate Steve was prone to laugh at your stupid jokes and watch stupid movies with you on the couch. 

Coworker Steve tried not to talk to you that much, scared that if your boss saw you two chatting it up, he’d get accused of flirting with you. Scared that it was painfully obvious to everyone else but you. 

But it was impossible for him to not stare at you when you’d come home exhausted after a stressful shift and mutter under your breath how much you wanted a hot shower. Or how he’d wait painfully to hear the record you had been playing while you studied in your room stop, knowing that you were about to knock on his door and tell him that if he had to go to the bathroom he better do it now before you took your very deserved long shower. 

He often teased you about how much you’d like to have a bath instead. 

You’d laugh it off, even though he was absolutely right. 

The truth is, he loves to hear you while the water hits your body. 

The bathroom stood between his room and yours. 

His bed against the wall, he usually laid down on it with a second hand book about whatever topic he needed to research for his next paper on American Revolution History or European History and its impact in Modern World. It didn’t matter to him, because in the next ten to twenty minutes he could hear you singing to yourself, your voice drowned by the noise of flowing water hitting your wet body. Though he did love it when you’d talk to yourself. 

Today was different. 

He’d come home later than he usually does, he had spent way more time than he intended stuck in the library trying to write his last paper on the Spanish Republic and he had little to no information on it, and he had exhausted himself enough to go straight to his bed, letting his body hit the mattress without even bothering to turn on the lights. 

That’s when he heard the shower turning on. 

At least he can hear you sing for him for a bit he thinks. 

But he was wrong for once. 

You thought you were alone, you thought you could be as loud as you wanted to, or as much as you needed to. The truth is, you had been crushing on Steve for a while now, and sometimes, only sometimes, you fantasized about him. Maybe more than you’ve been proud of. 

So now, as you were standing there, with the hot steam hugging all the parts of your body, and the water dripping drow your curves, you started thinking about how it would feel if what was keeping you warm wasn’t the hot air, but him, standing behind you, kissing every inch of your bare skin. 

You couldn’t help yourself, not now. So your fingers traveled down your folds, your fingers playing lazily with your dripping wet pussy, circling your clit as you thought of him, soft small moans came out of your mouth. And the hunger only grew, as images of him walking around the flat without his shirt and hair dripping wet invaded your mind. The way his hair sticks onto his forehead every morning, and he always smiles at you before telling you good morning in that husky early morning voice. 

It was driving you crazy, so you started touching yourself with more speed, a clearer pattern, tempting your entrance as one of your fingers graced it. 

Unknown to you, Steve was laying on the other side of the wall, his eyes opened as he heard you moaning, with each one growing louder and clearer, his mind became clouded, as he felt the way his jeans started to feel to tight on him, he needed to free himself, so he did the only thing he felt like he could. He sighed as his cock hitted his stomach once his pants and underwear laid on the floor. And he began stroking himself, softly, slowly, letting himself be guided by your voice as you whined. 

The only thing that made him touch himself faster is when he heard the way your voice moaned his name. 

You were so close to cumming, one of your hands had three of your fingers deep inside you, reaching that spot that made you see stars, as the other held the shower head closely to your clit, the vibrations of it making it feel when you closed your eyes that he was the one eating you out. And even after you had comed and you had screamed his name as loud as you could you left it there for a moment, recomposing yourself. Wishing he was there so you could kiss him, wishing he’d feel what you feel. 

He did, but you didn’t know, though now he did. 

His hands wrapped around his throbbing cock fast, and tightly, he resorted to biting his lower lip so he wouldn’t be a whippering mess, but he couldn’t help himself when he came all over his stomach and he looked down at himself, with the stupidest grin he could fathom.

-

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[iamasimperyk]

Too Hot Too Handle

Summary: You are part of the cast of Too Hot To Handle but so is Rafe. Let's say you didn't get along till a certain workshop.

Warnings: Talking about insecurities, self-doubts, cussing, mention of men using women for other pleasure, Too Hot To Handle season 6 inspired, not proof read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Thth!Rafe x Thth!reader

You have already seen Rafe Cameron in many dating shows. He was hot, there was no doubt, but he was also an asshole. He was known for making out and sleeping with girls, having them wrapped around his finger, just to ignore them as soon he got what he wanted.

"Are you alright?" The girl next to you asked.

You quickly nodded, "Yeah, just zoned out for a bit."

It was true you zoned out a little bit but it was all Rafe's fault, but let's start at the beginning.

----

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when you got an email with everything you need to know about your time on 'Too Hot To Handle'. The problem was, that you never wanted to be a part of that show, so why was Netflix reaching out to you?

You immediately called your best friend about the email, but she wasn't as shocked as you. She was the one who sent your application to Netflix since she wanted you to loosen up a little and have a fun summer.

It wasn't like you couldn't have fun, you just wanted something genuine and not some meaningless flirts and one-night stands here and there. Best conditions for Too Hot To Handle.

----

It was a weird feeling being recorded all day, but you tried your best to calm yourself and remind yourself about the fact that everything would be fine. You were a little introverted, but you were also confident and ready for this new experience.

You walked in by yourself in a tiny black bikini, waving at the people who were already standing by a table, drinking champagne.

"Oh my god, girl, you look stunning." A beautiful blond girl smiled at you, hugging you instantly.

Everyone complimented at least one thing about you, which you could just return, the people here were definitely hot.

Chad, one of the guys, handed you a glass of the pearly liquor, "So, you are from the US?"

You nodded, "I am from California, yeah."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed till now, I am British." He chuckled a little.

"The accent gave it away." You took a sip of your glass.

As he was about to say something once again, someone else came down the stairs.

No.Fucking.Way. Why was Rafe Cameron here? Not a single person here was popular, except for him.

"Well, hello," He said with his typical smirk, greeting everyone.

"God he's so hot," Lucy sighed, nearly drooling.

The other girls were quick to agree while you just rolled your eyes.

It was true he was hot but there was nothing else behind that pretty face and toned body.

----

After everybody introduced themself, you all started to explore the villa. Guliana and you sat down on one of the beds and started gossiping, "Tell me, who's your type?"

She seemed to think about it for a few seconds before she slightly shook her head, "Chad looks good, Rafe too, but there is no one who really catches me. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, everyone here is handsome, but I can't imagine myself with someone of them." You answered honestly.

"I bet everyone else already started to make out with each other," She giggled and you couldn't help but do the same.

However, you two were interrupted by a certain blue-eyed guy, "Seems like you two have a good time."

"How many rules did you break by now?" Guliana asked him, laughing.

"I haven't seen Lana till now, so everything is fine." He smirked, sitting down next to you.

You moved away from him a little, feeling slightly intimidated by his presence. "No offence, but I have seen some of your shows, and Too Hot To Handle would have been the last show I would have thought to see you in."

Rafe shrugged, "I am here to have some fun and win some money, nothing's wrong with that."

"And I bet almost every girl here would love to have some fun with you." The blond girl chuckled, playing with her skirt.

"Well, I am not picky. Every girl in here is hot as hell." Rafe answered cockily.

Rafe Cameron was even more arrogant in person, who would have thought that was possible?

"You aren't much of a talker, huh?" He suddenly said, looking at you intensely.

"I love to analyse, that's all." You smiled back sweetly.

"Oh, so what do you think of me? Tell me what you could analyse about me till now" He questioned with way too much confidence.

You couldn't believe this guy. He was impossible.

"That's for me to know. I will get a drink now" You mumbled, standing up and leaving the room.

----

That was the first and last time you talked to Rafe since Lana made her arrival last night, telling Rafe and Bri that they had to leave the retreat because they were too horny to be true.

You felt at ease now that Rafe was gone. You didn't know why but there was something about him you didn't like, however, it didn't matter anymore since Rafe was no longer part of the show, or so you thought.

When Bri and he came to the retreat once again, they told you about their 24-hour punishment.

"Guys, we have to be more responsible when it comes to our money, " Guliana sighed.

"Yeah, she's right, you all keep it in your pants." You mumbled, as loud for everyone to hear.

Rafe let out a chuckle, "Come on, just because you are too prude to make out with someone, you don't have to be so rude."

"First of all, it's not rude if I want you to behave and second I know how to have fun, I simply don't want everyone's tongue down my throat.", You rolled your eyes at him, clearly pissed.

----

The next days were all the same - people spent money on all kinds of sexual acts. That way the reason why Lana decided it was time for a workshop.

You all got paired up with someone you had no connection and surprise your partner was Rafe.

"Today's workshop is all about being honest and peeling back the layers. I am here to help you make a deeper connection with yourself, so you can make a deeper connection with your partner. All right, it's time to pick up those mirrors in front of you. Take it and look at yourself in it. What do you see?" The workshop leader asked.

"I see a Latina mamacita over here, of course!" Flavia giggled.

"Hot, toned, good-looking," Rafe was the next to answer.

You also looked in the mirror, your eyes glancing at every aspect of your body. You were confident, yes, but everyone had some insecurities deep down.

The others, however, seemed to love their looks as much as they could.

"Little booties matter! I can see it!"

"A little tiny waist."

"A nice little rack."

"I like my lips. I like my eyes."

"I like my hair."

The workshop leader let out a chuckle, "Alright, y'all. One second. I want you to start thinking about who you are behind what you are looking at in the mirror. Does anybody here feel like you have to put up a front? To put up a facade?"

Everybody slowly started to raise their hand, and you as well.

"If we can't be honest and real with ourselves, who can we keep it real with? Nobody," He went on, while everybody looked a little closer at themselves, "Look at yourself again. Is it the actual real you? Or is it a facade?"

Slowly, people began opening up about their feelings. It was amazing to see their masks gradually coming off.

"Y/n, what do you feel you have to portray to the world?" Now it was your time, to be honest.

" I feel like I have to keep my walls up so people don't hurt me. In my past, I tended to get attached to guys way too easily and they used that against me," You let out a quiet sob as you thought about your past, "I just want to be loved like everyone else. I know I look good but deep down I have these doubts. Is my waist too thin or too thick? Do I really like my nose? Am I too short? Why do I not have curves like the others? I think I started to doubt myself because I was constantly used by men."

That was the truth, and you felt embarrassed to admit it.

"Rafe, give her a hug for me, mate," Demari told him. The two of you have become quite good friends in the last few days.

Rafe looked down at you for a moment before he carefully wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. It was strange but somehow it felt good.

"Rafe, what about you? What do you feel you have to put on for the world?" The workshop leader asked him.

He let go of you slowly and looked at himself in the mirror, "I know I look good and in the past, I have often used that privilege to get what I wanted. I have always gotten what I wanted and I made sure to keep it that way, but the truth is I am scared. I am scared to let a woman hurt me, so I leave them before they can do the same to me. Sometimes I also doubt the fact that I can be a good boyfriend or husband one day. I don't want to have children just to fuck them up as well."

You felt sorry when you heard those words. As soon as he was done speaking, you hugged him as tightly as he had hugged you before.

After a few seconds, you felt him wrapping his arms around you as well. You weren't sure how long you stayed like this but as the workshop was done he let go of you.

You didn't know how to feel but something in you told you that for the first time in his life, Rafe also didn't know what to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Please tell me your thoughts on this on because I am kinda proud of it🥹

[enthusiasticharry]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 12.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: after a way too long hiatus from this fic, i'm happy to tell you all that regret me is back!! the fic master post is linked ahead if you fancy a re-read or a first-time read, it's there for you! it's been lovely dropping back into this world again and i would love to hear all of your thoughts and opinions so pls come and chat to me about it!! next chapter should be out within a month or so, and it will be the last chapter of regret me!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, talks of drug/ alcohol use, mentions of addiction recovery, sexual content, mentions of cheating and a stupid little boy who doesn't know how amazing he has it.

𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓 here

Los Angeles, Spring 1975

“Are you sure you can’t come now?” Harry mumbles against YN’s lips, “I can squeeze you into my suitcase.”

YN laughed, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips, “I can’t come now, you know that. I’ve got rehearsals for the next three weeks and then I’m coming.”

Harry groans and drops his head down to her neck, littering kisses to her skin as he squeezes her. He had been like this for the past week, ever since the seven-day countdown started. YN loved how much Harry loved her and wanted to be with her, but he was also aware that she needed to stay back in Los Angeles for a little while for rehearsals for her own tour that was starting in a month or so. Before she did kick off her tour though, she would fly out and spend a few days with Harry on his, so at least they had that to look forward to. Harry understood that this was necessary for both of them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from missing her, nor would YN stop missing him.

Harry would be busy on his tour, one which has broken records with ticket sales that YN didn’t know could exist and she was so proud of him. She would be busy with rehearsals, and sorting out everything for her tour and she would be okay. At this point, they had spent so much time together that YN thought Harry would be happy to have a break from her, but it seemed as though it was the complete opposite. She hoped spending a week together before they were both thrown into their tours at full force would at least make the rest of their time apart slightly easier.

“I know, I know,” He mumbles into her neck, finally pulling his head away so that she can look at him again, “I’m going to miss you so much, baby.”

“I’m going to miss you too, you know that,” YN mumbles against his lips, “But it’s only going to be for three weeks and then I’ll be with you.”

YN placed another kiss on his lips, running her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck one last time to make up for the lack of it for the next few weeks. She was going to miss him more than anything. Whilst YN was ready for the time apart and had prepared, she knew that it was going to be different with her support system gone. She had a different support system to focus on now – and that was her music.

“Harry, it’s time,” It was Jeff that called his name from behind her, and Harry groaned immediately.

Harry dropped his head to her shoulder again, and she wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him even closer to her if that was possible. There wasn’t even an inch of space between them at this point.

“I love you so much,” YN mumbled against his neck, feeling as though she wanted to cry but she wasn’t going to let herself.

“I love you too,” He pulled back and placed one more kiss on her lips, “I’ll see you soon.”

“You will,” She smiles, prying his arms off her one last time, “Now go, before Jeff has both of our heads."

Harry pouts but listens to her, placing another final kiss on her cheek before making his way towards the bus. YN turned so that she could watch the bus drive away. Harry sat down next to Jeff, a pout on his lips as he did so. YN just beamed a smile at him and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes not leaving his.

As the bus started and drove away, YN waved and blew Harry kisses until the bus had turned out of the parking lot, and she could no longer see it.

There wasn’t time for YN to be sad though, as she had to leave to get to a meeting with Leroy about her tour, and then go and meet her new band in the afternoon and begin to rehearse for the tour. These were how her days looked for the foreseeable future, full of different things to do and not a single second in the day to think about anything else.

The drive to Leroy’s was quick, and YN spent the entire time in silence. In her head, she was going over potential setlists for her tour, and also potential outfits that she could wear (all centred around her cowboy boots of course) and also what she was going to make herself for dinner (food was a priority after all).

With all of those thoughts swirling around her head, and not a single one of Harry pushing to the surface, she had managed to drive to Leroy’s office without a single worry in her head. She was a little early, but that was better than being late, so she packed up her bag and made her way inside.

Throwing a smile to Agatha on the desk, she made her way towards the elevator and up to Leroy’s office. The last time she came here for a meeting, she was late because she was throwing back pills in the bathroom. Now, her mind was clear, and she was in control of herself, and it felt good.

YN may be sober now, but she was still the same badass. Therefore, when YN made it to Leroy’s office she didn’t knock and instead, she just walked in. Leroy was on the phone, and his eyes widened when he saw YN making her way into the room and sitting down across from him.

“I’ll, uh, have to go,” Leroy mutters into the receiver, “My next meeting is here… yeah, I love you. See you tonight.”

YN smiles, crossing one of her legs over the other, “Wife, or mistress?”

“Wife, not that it’s any of your business,” Leroy sighs, another look of shock waving over his face again, “You’re actually on time.”

YN shrugged, “That I am.”

“Who knew that getting you sober was the one thing that would get you on time?” Leroy says with a smile, but YN’s face doesn’t move.

YN was sober, she was. She had fallen a few months ago, but that was the first and last drink that she had. It was. She regretted it immediately and threw the rest of the bottle away. That was when she decided that she wasn’t that person anymore and that when she needed something to lean on, she would lean on her friends her music, and Harry.

That didn’t mean that she didn’t feel guilty about it because she did. She had been sitting on that secret since it happened, but there was no way that she was going to tell any of them about it. She was doing fine right now; she was honestly and truthfully doing fine.

“That’s not the only thing that getting me sober has fixed,” YN shrugged, messing with the hem of her skirt.

“I can see that,” He smiles at her, “You look good, you do.”

“Thank you, Leroy, I appreciate that,” She glares at him with a bashful smile across her features, “Now as much as I love talking about me, I think it’s time that we spoke about my next favourite topic – my tour!”

Leroy sighs and shakes his head. If last time was anything to go by, especially because she had given him a list of demands when she was only the opener, he dreaded to think what she was going to ask him for now that it was her tour.

“Well, how about I tell you what we have so far and then you can say your piece,” Kenneth explains and YN nods, knowing that was probably for the best, “So far, we’ve got the staging ready, booked the opener, booked the venues and the hotels for the nights that you aren’t travelling. We’ve got the bus and all the travel sorted.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy,” YN smiles, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

“Well, whilst you’ve been MIA we’ve had time,” Leroy explains, “Ticket sales have been good, great even. Rolling Stones did you good.”

YN sighs, shaking her head. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about the article, not since it came out and especially not since what it caused. She has, however, allowed herself to celebrate Harry’s cover, and article, because that was everything that he needed to kickstart his climb within the industry.

“Yeah, well, everybody seemingly wants to see the recovering addict perform,” YN sighed, shaking her head, “And what’s that thing you always say – any publicity is good publicity?”

“In this case, yeah,” He nods, “If it wasn’t for that article, your ticket sales would be good we all know that but nothing like what they are now.”

YN sighs and nods, “I guess I’ll thank journalist dickhead when I see him next.”

“Don’t worry, if we have control of anything you’ll never have to see that man again.”

“Good, now, my ideas,” She smiles, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the desk, “So, I want separate buses. If the last tour was anything to go by, the band and groupies will want to party, and I don’t want to be anywhere near that. I also want a separate green room. I don’t want to be involved in any of that. I can’t be involved in any of that.”

“I’ll see what I can do, YN,” Leroy nods, sincerity in his voice.

“No, it’s not you ‘seeing’ what you can do, you’ll do it,” She taps her nail on the desk, “I can’t be involved in any of that. I’ve been on the straight and narrow, and I need to stay that way.”

Leroy nods and runs a hand over his face, “Two buses, two green rooms. They’re yours.”

“Good, thank you,” She does give him an appreciative smile now, “I’ve sorted the set list, I did it on the drive over, so I’ll discuss that with the band, I’ve got my costumes in the majority I’ll just need someone to go and pick them up for me.”

“I’ll talk to Agatha,” Leroy nods, “She’ll send someone for you.”

YN nods. Yes, Leroy could be a dickhead sometimes but that was his job. It was times like this when she remembered why he was her manager because underneath that façade of being an absolute prick, he had a good heart, and he did care. If he didn’t care about her, he wouldn’t be spending the agency’s money on things that aren’t a necessity.

“You know, you’re a real sweetheart sometimes.”

“And you’re less of a bitch when you’re not on drugs.”

They share a laugh, and for the first time in a while, she thinks that everything might be okay again.

“The chord progression goes up,” YN sighs, lifting her hand to her forehead, “I don’t know if you know it but you’re going down.”

“It’s just easier that way,” Jackson, YN’s new bassist replies with a shrug as they stand in the middle of the rehearsal room, “It’s easier to go down than it is up, thought you wouldn’t mind that.”

“I do mind that, actually, yeah,” YN nods, crossing her hands over her chest before sighing, “Because it’s my song, and I wrote the progression going up.”

They had been rehearsing for the shows for a week now. YN had been getting to know all of the new members of the band and whilst some, like the pianist Pepper and the drummer Fiona, just got on with the job and listened to what YN had to say, some like the bassist Jackson and the guitarist Felix (who just had to know each other and were friends) wanted to make their lives easy and by doing this in part were not listening to YN.

“Yeah, we know you’ve written all these songs and you want them played a certain way,” Felix sighs, resting his arms across his guitar, “But we’ll be playing them over and over and for our sake, shouldn’t we simplify them slightly?”

“No, we shouldn’t,” YN shakes her head, her gaze fixed firmly on the two friends who were standing there with smug-ass grins on their faces, “We shouldn’t simplify them because if you learnt the songs right, you’d be able to play them over and over again because you’d know them, the right way.”

YN knew that after her conversation with Leroy had gone so well nearly a week ago there was going to be something that would turn it on its head and make life hard for her. Her band, or seemingly half of it, was that. They were just young, stubborn musicians who wanted to be playing for themselves and not for some random girl who was a perfectionist and made them work.

“This is the seventh song we’ve done and they’re all fucking different with their chord progressions, and riffs,” Jackson was the next one to speak up and YN was so close to either socking him in the face or kicking him out of the band.

“Well, who are you? Captain fucking obvious because that’s how songs go, they’re not the same,” YN throws her hands up in the air, taking a heated step towards him, “You are getting paid to play my songs how I want them to be played, and if you, both, have any more complaints then you can fuck right off back from where you came with no pay-check, and no tour.”

Both Jackson and Felix started to stalk towards her, but Pepper and Fiona were up and standing in front of them so that they couldn’t move closer. YN didn’t move in fact, and she didn’t look scared. She just stood there, with her arms crossed and feet planted firmly on the floor. She wasn’t scared of a couple of coked-up twenty-year-olds who were complaining because their job was too hard.

“Guys, let’s just have a break yeah?” Pepper was the first to talk, placing her hand on Jackson's shoulder but he was quick to brush it off, “We’ll all go for a smoke yeah? I’ve got some joints, and we’ll share them around.”

“Yeah, come on,” Fiona did the same to Felix, “Both of you are hitting a low, and need to relax.”

YN sighed and shook her head, “Yeah, you two go and relax and get high and by the time you’re back I hope you’ve pulled your head out of your asses and realised you’ve got a job to do.”

Pepper pushed Jackson out of the room, and Fiona did the same to Felix, but she hung back.

“I’m sorry about them they’re both –”

“Pricks?” YN filled in the blank.

“Yeah, that’s a word for them,” Fiona laughed, walking over, and placing a hand on YN’s arm, “You can join us? We can go away from them but there’s no use wasting a joint.”

YN sighs and shakes her head, “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t –”

“That’s fine,” Fiona smiles, “Well, you know where we are if you need us.”

YN offers Fiona a smile and watches as she walks out. Once she’s left on her own, YN drops down on the sofa at the side of the room and drops her head back. One day YN was going to find a band to play with her that created no problems in her life and helped her rather than insult her.

YN’s eyes had drifted shut, and she was a minute or two away from falling asleep. With the long hours and days that she had been having, as well as struggling to sleep on her own without Harry she hadn’t been sleeping well. Today though, she was so ready for bed, and she knew that the second that her head hit the pillow when she got home, she would be fast asleep.

“Knock, knock,” A very familiar voice knocked her out of her slight slumber, as well as the hit of knuckles on the door frame.

YN’s face broke out into a smile at the sound and sight of Vivienne walking into the room, a bag of food from Ed’s in her clutch. She nearly cried on the spot at that sight.

“Hi Viv,” YN smiled, opening her arms so that Vivienne could drop down and wrap YN in a hug.

“Hi babes,” Vivienne laughs, accepting the hug and then dropping down on the sofa next to her.

YN did feel bad. She had completely forgotten that she had agreed to have dinner with Vivienne at the studio today because it was their last night together. Tomorrow, Vivienne was leaving for the first stop of the tour with Pamela and her band, and whilst YN was so excited and so proud of her, she was going to miss her. At the moment, with YN’s days so stressful she was loving coming home to Vivienne and hearing about her day, and then unloading slightly about her day to Vivienne. She was just going to miss that comfort around her.

“Saw the band outside,” Vivienne says and YN sighs, her eyes widening as she shakes her head, “High as kites.”

“They can get as fucking high as they want as far away from me if it means they stop being pricks,” YN sighs, her head leaning on the sofa.

“That bad?”

“That bad,” YN nodded, sitting up and reaching over to grab the bag from Ed’s, “This is exactly what I need right now.”

YN didn’t even hesitate before taking a bite of her chicken sandwich, not caring that she had sauce all around her mouth. Vivienne laughed and passed YN a napkin, allowing her to wipe said sauce from around her mouth.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” YN asked, popping some fries into her mouth after speaking.

“Seven,” Vivienne responded, and YN blew out a deep breath.

“I’ll try and be awake to say goodbye, but I don’t know,” YN shook her head, “I don’t know what time we’ll be finished here and we’re not leaving until they get, I used to know done.”

Vivienne laughed, taking a bite of her burger, “You can’t say that you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

YN joined in with the laughter and shrugged, “They know what they’ve signed up for, and I have no complaints about Pepper and Fiona – they’re great. It’s just the boys, they’re…”

YN sighs and shakes her head, and Vivienne finishes her sentence, “Too fucking full of themselves.”

“Yes!” YN laughs again, running a hand over her face, “They think they’re the fucking shit and have decided that they can play my songs better than the way I’ve written them even though they’re paid to play them the way I want.”

Vivienne shakes her head, “You must have the patience of a saint to deal with that.”

“I do not, or they would still be here and not banished outside,” YN laughed.

“God, I knew Pamela was lucky with her band but every time I meet yours it fucking solidifies it,” Vivienne shakes her, drinking from her milkshake.

YN’s mouth drops open, “Where did you pull that from? Did you get me one?”

“Of course, I did,” Vivienne reached down to a bag that YN hadn’t seen and pulled out another milkshake, a vanilla one that was YN’s favourite, “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

“You would be such a shit friend and the fact you got my favourite means you’re the best friend,” YN laughed, taking a sip of her milkshake, “God, I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Vivienne beams at her friend, “But it’ll not be too long, and you’re seeing lover boy in a week and then you’re jetting for your singsong.”

“Yeah,” YN sighs, running a hand over her face, “Look at us, eh? Busy, busy, busy.”

Vivienne furrowed her eyebrows at the girl, and YN had a slight inclination of what she was trying to say but YN couldn’t bring herself to.

Last week all YN could speak about was how excited she was to see Harry, and a part of her still was. The only thing was, Harry had promised to phone her when he arrived, and she hadn’t received a phone call. She phoned him the next day and he answered, but the conversation was cut short. He said that he’d phone when he had a spare minute, but she hadn’t had a call. She had phoned him, but he hadn’t picked up for a few days after. So far, there hadn’t been any communication between the two and YN was sceptical.

There was a rational part of YN’s brain that knew that he would’ve been busy and getting settled into the tour wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Then, there was the other side of her brain that knew even on tour, there were a few minutes in the day that he could’ve called her, and they could have shared a few minutes of conversation. That was where YN’s scepticism came in.

“He’ll just be busy, babes,” Vivienne placed her hand on YN’s, squeezing her, “You know how much he loves you.”

“I do,” YN nods, “And I’m just stressed, and busy but he’s just busy too.”  

At this point, YN didn’t know if she was just trying to convince herself as much.

YN had just been to the bathroom and then beelined to the kitchen to grab herself a cup of coffee in the studio after another full day there with what felt like a lot and not a lot done at the same time. It had been a week since Vivienne had left for her tour, and it was t-minus 2 days until YN was leaving to go meet Harry on tour.

During this week, YN, and her band (mainly Jackson and Felix) finally managed to make some edgeways. It had taken two weeks of work for them to finally realise that YN wasn’t going to back down from having her songs played properly so they might as well just do as she asks. YN knew that if she was a man, and it was a man trying to make them play their songs properly they would do it with no questions asked. She knew that she wasn’t going to back down, and she was just slightly pissed that it had taken them two weeks to finally realise that.

With her mug of coffee clutched in her hand, she made her way back into the rehearsal room.

Once she saw the sight she was greeted by – YN sighed and dropped her head back.

There were a few rules that YN had made the first day that they had started rehearsals. They were mainly to keep the focus on the music, but it was also to protect her and protect all of the progress that she had made.

Walking into that room, her hot coffee in her hand and tiredness washing over her YN could have done with anything else but seeing Jackson and Felix, sat on the sofa doing a line off of one of their guitar cases. With the rules that YN put in place, and how small this place is it would have taken them two seconds to walk into another room or go outside to do it, but yet here they are –ignoring everything that YN had said.

“Jesus,” YN shakes her head, “What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Jackson responds, running his fingers against his nose, “Stupid fucking question.”

“I know what you’re doing,” YN crosses her arms over her chest, still clutching her coffee cup in one hand, “My question is why the hell are you doing it?”

“To get fucking high,” Felix laughs, as though it is completely normal, “Why? You want some?”

“No, I don’t fucking want any,” YN shakes her head, “There’s one fucking rule in here and that’s no drugs.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t in the fucking room so why does it matter?” Jackson shrugs.

“It matters because those are the rules,” YN scoffs and shakes her head, “It takes two fucking seconds to leave the room and go somewhere else but you two are too fucking lazy and seem to just not want to listen.”

“It’s because you overdosed, right?” Felix was the one to speak up now, a shit-eating grin on his features, “I read your Stones article. Ended up in rehab, right?”

YN’s entire face dropped. She didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t know if she even wanted to say anything. There was no need for any of this when they were supposed to be working, but as YN had quickly realised from getting sober, what is said when on drugs has no rationale. What was being said was horrible, but they were high, and YN knew that it wasn’t them necessarily who were saying it.

“Uh, YN?” A voice called from over her shoulder.

YN turned to see Rebecca, the receptionist standing at the entrance of the door with a small smile, “Yeah, Rebecca?”

“There’s a phone call for you,” She smiles.

“Thank you,” YN smiles and makes her way towards the door before stopping and turning back to the band, “Just don’t fucking do it in here.”

YN places her coffee cup down and follows Rebecca to the phone, smiling in thanks as she shuts the door behind YN, leaving her alone in the room. YN sits down on the desk, picks the phone up and places it against her ear, saying hello to whoever is on the other side.

“Hey baby,” YN’s body relaxes slightly, as she leans against the wall the desk is pressed against.

“Harry, hi,” Her face breaks out into a beaming smile just at the sound of his voice, “How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine baby, just busy,” He sighs into the receiver, and YN can hear slight shuffling, but she just puts it behind her, “How are you? How are the rehearsals going?”

“They’re –” YN hesitates for a second before shaking her head, “It just feels as though every time we take one step forward, we’re also taking about seven steps back.”

“I’m sorry about that baby,” Harry’s voice relaxes her, but also for some reason, it feels as though something isn’t quite right, “But hey, two days and all you’ll have to think about is me.”

YN laughs, “Hundreds of people screaming your name every night isn’t enough, eh? You need me to be obsessed with you too.”

“Well, I’m obsessed with you baby, so I hope you’d be the same,” Harry laughs over the receiver, “I can’t wait to see you, I’m sorry I haven’t phoned that much.”

“I can’t wait to see you either, Harry,” A small smile graces YN’s lips, “Don’t worry about phoning, I know you’ll have been busy, and I just can’t wait to –”

“Harry come on, or we’ll start without you!”

YN’s eyebrows furrow and her head tilts slightly. The voice that interrupted her over the speaker wasn’t one that she recognised. It was female, but it didn’t sound like Sarah or any of the other female members of Harry’s band or the ones that he’s surrounded by.

“Give me a minute, I’m on the phone to YN,” Harry responds to the voice, and it does ease YN slightly.

“Who’s that?” YN asked after she heard the door shut on the other side.

“It’s just Mary,” Harry responds, “She’s the lead singer of the opener.”

“Huh,” YN nods her head. She hadn’t heard much about Harry’s opener, before or even after he had left for tour, “What are they going to start without you?”

“I don’t know,” YN hears rustling, as though he’s running his hand over his face, “I think we’re playing some sort of card game, I don’t know…”

“I don’t want to keep you if they’re waiting for you,” YN smiles, finger running along the edge of the table.

“No, it’s fine baby they can start without me,” He’s quick with his answer, but YN shakes her head.

“No, you need to go and play, and win,” YN laughed, knowing exactly what Harry was like when it comes to games, “I need to get back to rehearsal anyway, and it’s only two days and then I’ll see you.”  

“You will, baby,” YN could hear Harry smiling on the other end of the phone, which made her smile in turn, “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” YN chuckled, “Now go and play whatever it is, and win because we all know you’ll be in a mood if you don’t.”

“You know me too well,” YN just sighed at Harry’s voice, obviously having his attention on something other than her. She knew what it was like she supposed, and how everything on tour heightened senses and the rest of the world just seemed to revolve around their little bubbles, “I love you, baby. I’ll see you in two days.”

“Bye Harry,” The words slip out of YN’s mouth but just as she mutters, “I love you too,” The phone line stops.

YN sighs, putting the phone down and running a hand over her face. With another sigh, she stood up and made her way back into the studio. Pepper and Fiona had shown up at that point, and there wasn’t a drug in sight in the room anymore. Whilst she might have preferred to be able to get this off her chest with Harry, she was happy that he sounded okay, and that he was just as excited as she was to see each other.

Just after YN walked into the room and picked her coffee back up, the boys walked in. They looked significantly more relaxed than they did before her phone conversation, and a part of YN was relieved by that. It meant that YN hoped that their high would last long enough for her to get through a few more songs before she could call it a night – and leave them to do whatever they wanted to do without her being around.

“Shall we run it from the top?” YN asked, watching as for the first time in a long time they all fell into line.

YN would be lying if she said she didn’t in relief at the sight. They would run through the songs; YN would go home, and she would be a step closer to Harry and have a relaxing week with him.

YN nodded at Fiona, watching as the girl tapped her drumsticks together to count them in. The music started, YN opened her mouth, and she sang and just like that – nothing else mattered in the world.

YN walked out of the Pittsburgh airport, sunglasses perched upon her nose and suitcase dragging behind her. The weather had just begun to warm up, as the seasons slipped between spring to summer, the sun was out in full force. It was as though it knew that YN was having a break, ready for her time with Harry and the sun became the one to greet her for that experience.

YN’s eyes bounced from left to right, looking through the taxi rank to see if she could spot Harry. She knew when her flight was getting in, and he said that he’d already planned to be there when she arrived.

Then, there he was.

Her face broke out into a smile, and she picked her bag up so that she could bounce over to him quicker. He was standing with his arms crossed, resting against a yellow taxicab with his sunglasses perched upon his nose. The second that YN stood before him; his face beamed a smile at her. He uncrossed his arms, and YN took that as her cue to drop her bag down onto the sidewalk beside them and threw her arms around his neck, Harry’s immediately resting in the small of her waist. It felt right, it felt safe – and it felt like home.

“Hi, baby,” YN mumbled, immediately placing a litter of chaste kisses upon his lips, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Harry smiled, accepting the flurry of kisses YN pressed against his lips, “You ready?”

YN sighed with a blissful smile upon her lips, “More than ready.”

She moved to pick up her bag, but Harry slipped his arm through hers and grabbed the bag for her. He set off towards the trunk of the cab. He nodded at the driver and bounced back to open the door for YN, “My lady…”

YN giggled and nodded her head at Harry, and stepped into the car, “Why thank you, kind sir.”

YN pushed herself across the back seat of the cab so that Harry could slip in behind her. He threw his arm around her shoulder, the girl slipping underneath with ease. It was as though their movements were in sync, as though they knew exactly how the other was most comfortable and where they wanted to be – as close to each other as possible. YN moved her hand so that it could link with Harry’s free one, and rest them on his thigh, squeezing it until his attention was back on her. She lifted her head in his direction, accepting another chaste kiss upon her lips, and another and a flurry of more until the two of them were in a fit of giggles in the back seat. YN wondered at what point the driver of the cab would realise who they were, and whether or not this would be a headline the next day, but she didn’t care – she was in the arms of the man she loved.

“I think we should scrap the party tonight,” Harry mumbled against her lips, pulling away and resting his head upon hers, “I haven’t seen you in too long, and I have no plans of sharing you tonight.”

YN shook her head, unable to control the laugh that escaped her lips. She slipped her head into the nape of his neck, placing a kiss there, “Whilst I don’t hate that idea, we can’t exactly not show up to a party that is being thrown for us.”

“I think that’s exactly what we should do,” Harry nodded, his lips pouting ever so slightly, “You’ll have your time to catch up this week at some point — I need my time to catch up with you all on my own.”

YN rolled her eyes lightly, but a smile never left her face. She knew what Harry was doing, and she also knew that they would have plenty of time for that before the party started, so there was no need for them to miss it.

“Whilst there are things I can’t wait to do,” YN mumbled against his neck, her teeth grazing the skin ever so slightly, “I can’t wait to see Sarah and Mitch, and what was her name again? The singer in the opener?”

“It’s, uh, Mary,” Harry mumbled, and whilst YN heard the slight shift in his voice, she decided to ignore it, “You’ll get to meet her tomorrow, even if you don’t tonight.”

“Harry,” YN warned, turning to face him with a slight raise of her eyebrow, “We’re not missing it. Don’t want to hear another word about it.”

The cab stopped outside the hotel after around half an hour of driving, and YN would be lying if she said that she wasn’t thankful that she had finally stopped travelling and could rest. The drive hadn’t been that long, but the flight included meant that it had been non-stop all day, and she was truly ready for said rest.

YN’s lips parted in shock when she walked into his hotel room, “Jesus, Harry, is this a hotel room or a house?”

“Only the best for you,” Harry gleamed a smile at YN as he placed her suitcase at the end of the bed, “In all honesty, ticket sales were through the roof and the label only wanted me to have the best of the best.”

“God,” YN sighed, dropping down on the bed that truly felt like a cloud, “I hope I get this treatment.”

Harry dropped down next to her, reaching his hand out to move her hair off her face, “You will. I have no doubts about that.”

YN sighed, sitting up, “Well that makes one of us.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed from his place on the bed. He sat up and moved closer to YN so that he was directly behind her. He rested his head upon her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the skin there ever so gently.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” YN shook her head, running her hand across her forehead, “It’s nothing. I think I’m just tired.”

“You know you can tell me anything,” Harry mumbled, head still pressed against her neck, “Whatever’s worrying you.”

“It’s nothing, I promise,” YN nods, turning her head so that she can place a kiss on his lips, “If it gets too bad, I promise I’ll tell you.”

His hands came to wrap around YN’s waist, pulling her towards him, “We’ve got time to rest before the party.”

YN’s head turned to look at Harry, “I thought you didn’t want to go to the party.”

Harry sighed and offered her a smile, “I suppose it would be rude not to show up to our party, like you said.”

YN just chuckled, leaning forward to place her lips upon Harry’s. It was strange how quickly the two of them had just fallen back into the comfortable familiar space that they often found with each other. YN’s fingers found their rightful place in the nape of Harry’s neck, tugging on the curls that rested there. It was crazy how much she had missed this man whilst they had been apart, but she supposed that was what love is – always wanting to be around the person and missing him when he’s not around.

YN should have been surprised when their kisses were more from more than just a peck, but she wasn’t. Their tongues began moving together in blissful harmony. There were other things that she missed as well as just Harry himself. It was a feeling that she couldn’t find on her own, and she needed him to be with her for it.

YN’s body turned, and her hands slipped around Harry so that they ran up his back. She could feel the curl of Harry’s lips as he smiled against hers, “I thought you said you were tired.” 

“I am,” YN’s lips curled into a smile as well, “But I can rest later.”

“That you can.”

YN giggled as Harry’s hands moved down her body, gripping the lacey material of her tank top and pulling it over her body in one quick motion. She had forgone a bra that morning, mainly for comfort on the flight but she would be lying if she said there wasn’t the thought of easy access for a situation such as this one. Harry’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight, as though he was a boy again and seeing his first pair of tits. 

“You’ve seen them before,” YN giggled, watching as his eyes jumped from her chest to her eyes and then back down to her chest again.

Harry just beamed a smile at her, “And it’s like Christmas every time.”

He dropped his head down to her neck, placing kisses along the skin until it met her chest before they landed directly on the plush skin of her breast. His teeth grazed her nipple, tugging at the peak lightly to elicit a hiss from her lips. He knew exactly what buttons on her body to push, and whilst she sometimes hated it, she loved it at the same time.

“No teasing,” YN spoke breathlessly once Harry had released her nipple, her hands resting against his cheeks to pull his head back up to him, “I don’t have the energy for teasing.”

“Another time,” Harry nodded, and YN breathed a sigh of relief when he obliged her request.

He pulled his shirt over his head in one quick motion. Whilst he was doing that, YN made a quick move to take her pants off, throwing them upon the pile of clothes that was collecting at the side of the bed. She watched as Harry pulled his trousers, and underwear off at the same time – those too landing upon the pile. He dropped back on the bed, resting against the headrest and allowing YN to climb over and straddle his waist.

“Wanna ride you,” YN mumbled against Harry’s lips, “Need to be close to you.”

“I’m here,” Harry nodded, “Take what you want.”

YN rested one of her hands on his shoulder, using it to steady herself as she lined herself up with his cock. His hands found their rightful place upon her waist, helping her to comfortably drop down onto his cock at whatever pace she needed to. YN moaned against Harry’s cheek as she accommodated his full size, feeling that comfort and fullness that she hadn’t since Harry had left.

“So full,” YN mumbled against his cheek, “Feels so good and deep.”

The pace that YN and Harry had decided upon was slow, but it was deep. The pleasure that it provided was too much for both of them. Harry’s hips bucked up to YN’s to match her pace, their lips meeting and never disconnecting from each other’s apart to allow a moan to slip past.

“Can feel you squeezing me,” Harry mumbled into her lips, “Getting yourself off on my cock.”

“Missed this, missed you,” YN moaned, her lips parting as his hips bucked deeper in her.

Harry’s hand slipped down between their bodies, his thumb resting upon her clit and beginning to circle the little nub. YN gasped into Harry’s mouth once more, unable to hold back from the overwhelming pleasure she was feeling. It was everything together, moving all at once that caused her to tighten around Harry’s cock once more, her orgasm washing over her soon after. Harry followed not too closely behind, his grip on YN’s wait tightening as he did so.

“How did I last so long without you?” Harry mumbled, his head falling onto her shoulder, “Think you should be with me, forever.”

YN just chuckled, using Harry’s shoulder to lift herself off of him. She whimpered slightly at the loss of contact, but Harry was there to stabilise her once she had done.

“I’m here now,” YN dropped down on the plush bed again with a smile. Harry leaned over to place a soft peck on his lips, moving her head to rest upon his shoulder, “God, I do need that rest now.”

“We’ve got time,” Harry nodded, placing a kiss on YN’s hairline, “Can have a quick snooze now, if you fancy?”

YN nodded, snuggling into Harry’s body. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep, dropping into dreamland ever so quickly just by knowing that Harry was there with her. Harry didn’t move the entire time that she was asleep, knowing that she needed it more than he needed his arm. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t drop off at some point, waking to the sound of YN fluttering around the room.

“This is a nice wake-up call,” He beamed a smile at her from the bed, watching as she sat at the vanity with only a towel wrapped around her body.

YN just giggled, “You slept right through my shower. Seems like I wasn’t the only one who needed rest.”

Harry stood up from the bed, bare feet padding across the carpet until he was behind her, “Haven’t slept the best this tour, seems like I needed you in my bed.”

YN huffed a laugh, “In more ways than one, I presume. Now, shower. We can’t be late.”

“We can,” Harry nodded, head resting on her shoulder, “If we have to go, we can at least be late.”

YN groaned and pushed Harry in the direction of the bathroom, “Shower.”

Harry groaned once more but did as she said and stepped into the bathroom. YN took her time, doing her hair until it was sitting perfectly, and until her makeup looked flawless. The dress that she decided to wear hugged her body in all the right places, the sleeves stopping at her elbow where they extended into a bell shape. It was a light iridescent fabric, and once YN had placed her bangles on her wrists and her cowboy boots were on her feet she truly felt excited, and ready to party.

“God,” Harry whistled as he walked out of the shower, his towel resting low on his waist, “Are you sure we have to go?”

“Yes,” YN continues to fasten her earrings, “Get dressed.”

Harry dropped the towel, walking over to grab his clothes, “Positive?”

YN groaned, pushing past Harry, and opening the wardrobe to grab the clothes she wanted him to wear. She threw the jeans at him, as well as the vest and shirt that she loved ever so much. He just smiled at her, slipping his underwear on.

“You look gorgeous,” Harry smiled, and YN couldn’t help the flush that covered her cheeks.

“Thank you,” She placed a chaste kiss on his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

By the time that YN and Harry had walked into the room where the party was being held, it was already in full swing. Harry’s arm was securely wrapped around YN’s waist, and hers around his. It didn’t last very long though, as the second that YN saw Sarah in the distance her face was beaming out into a smile, and she was deserting Harry and making her way over there.

“Oh it’s been too long,” YN smiled as she wrapped her arms around Sarah.

“It’s Harry’s fault,” Sarah sighed with a shake of her head, “He’s kept you all to himself.”

YN rolled her eyes, “It took some convincing to even come today, basically had to force him out of the room.”

Sarah laughed and pointed towards the drinks table, saying that she was going to get them a drink. YN sighed and nodded, saying that she’d wait here. Her eyes danced around the room, obviously trying to find Harry. She found him standing in the corner of the room, a bottle of beer grasped tightly in his hand, talking to a blonde girl with a smile on his face.

Sarah returned with a bottle of cola in her hand for YN and a beer in her hand for herself. YN smiled at her, but her eyes returned to Harry and the girl across the room.

“Thank you,” YN nodded, taking a sip, “Who’s that Harry’s talking to?”

Sarah’s eyes followed the direction that YN was pointing in, “Oh that’s Mary, Harry’s probably told you about her.”

“He has,” YN nodded, pointing her head back in Mary’s direction, “Introduce me?”

Sarah widened her eyes but nodded, walking towards the pair. YN cleared her throat the second that they stood in front of them, interrupting whatever conversation they were having.

“Mary, this is YN,” Sarah nodded.

YN smiled and wrapped her arm around Harry’s waist, “Harry’s girlfriend.”

“No, it’s, uh, so nice to meet you!” The girl beamed, the British accent shocking YN slightly, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

It was then that YN saw it. The constantly shaking hands, the blown pupils and the fidgeting with her nose were everything that YN needed to know.

“Vivienne’s having a good time,” YN nodded as she walked back into Harry’s dressing room after finishing up her phone call with Vivienne, “I tried to ask about the tour, but it was Pamela this and Pamela that."

Harry nodded, opening his arm out to YN so that she could drop beneath it, “She’s in love, leave her be.”

“I am, don’t worry,” YN laughed, bringing her feet up so that she could curl up with him, “I’m sure I was just the same. It was probably always Harry this and Harry that.”

Harry just shook his head, pressing a kiss to her hairline. He was dressed and ready for the show, and Mary’s band was already on stage for their set so she knew that it wasn’t going to be long before Harry would be whisked up onto stage.

“The break’s not too long away, right?” Harry asked, finger messing with the frill on YN’s shirt, “Then she’s coming to see you, right?”

“Yeah,” YN nodded, absentmindedly running her finger across the material of his trousers, “She won’t tell me much, I’ll probably have to pry it out of her.”

Harry just laughed, “Or you could just wait for her to tell you herself?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” YN grimaced with a shake of her head.

It was then that YN felt Harry’s fingers move from the frill of her shirt to the soft skin of her stomach. She could tell what kind of a mood he was in (despite what they had done that morning, soft and slow wrapped in the covers from the bed) and found it even more so when his fingers slipped beneath the material of her skirt.

“We don’t have time for that,” YN mumbled, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip as his teeth started to graze the nape of her neck.

It was no use though, for Harry already was slipping his hand underneath her body to pull her onto his lap. Once his lips were upon hers, it was as though nothing was going to stop them. She was drunk off him, and nothing was going to stop them.

His hands rested firmly upon her ass, his fingers digging into the flesh eliciting a moan from YN’s lips. YN sighed against Harry, rocking her hips towards his. She hadn’t a single idea of how long they had been making out like a bunch of horny teenagers.

“Harry!” The door burst open, and Harry and YN’s lips disconnected to see who it was that interrupted them, "You should see it out there it’s… oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” YN offered the girl a smile, clambering off Harry’s lap, “Don’t worry about it.”

“I forgot you were here if truth be told,” Mary spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It did cause YN’s eyebrows to furrow at the girl, “I’m just so used to walking in here.”

YN furrowed her eyebrows once more and turned to look at Harry, but he wasn’t looking in her direction at all. YN watched as Mary walked into the room and dropped down on the sofa across from them. It was hot on stage, but the sweat that was dropping off her body was more than just the heat from the stage that was causing her to sweat in such a way.

YN’s suspicions were once again confirmed when the girl pulled a small bag out of the trouser pocket and tipped the contents onto the table in front of them. YN’s heart started to beat quickly, and she reached over to grab Harry’s hand.

“Uh, Mary,” Harry spoke, leaning forward in his seat slightly, “Do you think, that, maybe you could do that somewhere else?”

Marry let out a laugh, but that dropped when she saw the serious expression on Harry’s face, “Are you being serious? You’ve never had an issue before.”

“I know, and now I do,” He shrugged, and then stood up, “Think it’s time for me to get out there.”

He leaned down to place a kiss on YN’s lips, “Smash it, I love you.”

“Love you too,” He walked towards the door, “You’re coming to watch, yeah?”

“Course I am, give me a second.”

YN waited until the door had shut behind him when she turned to Mary, who had just finished her line. Mary wiped her nose, turning to look at YN who was still facing her.

“Do you want some?” Mary asked and YN shook her head.

“No, I don’t,” YN sighed standing up, “Are you coming to watch Harry?”

“Never miss it,” Mary nodded, “I’ll be there in a second!”

YN sighed and walked out of the room, moving towards the side of the stage. She smiled at Jeff who was already there, and watched as Harry did what he did best. Their shared love of music, and the way that it brought them and so many people closer together. Seeing him dance and sing his heart out and have all of those people singing along with him –caused her heart to grow even more for the man on the stage.

“It’s insane that he can do what he does,” Mary spoke from the side of her, “He’s just amazing.”

YN offered Mary a smile and nodded her head, ready to turn her attention back to Harry but then she saw Mary, and she saw the look that the girl was giving Harry as she moved on the stage. It was a familiar look, but YN couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was that was familiar. Then when she turned to look at Harry she realised what it was.

It was the look that YN had given Harry every time that she had seen him on stage, the one that for herself manifested in her love for him. YN couldn’t stop whatever feelings the other girl was manifesting for Harry, and she couldn’t control what would happen, but she could love Harry as much as she could.

All she had to do was hope that was enough.

“How come you’ve got a private jet?” YN asked nudging Harry who was sitting in the seat next to her with her elbow, “I feel as though you’ve got everything this time.”

“You’re just jealous,” Harry responded, sliding down into the seat further, “You just wish that you’d asked for a private jet.”

YN just huffed, settling further down in her own seat. Sarah and Mitch just laughed from their seats across from the couple, watching as Harry tried to wrap his arm around YN but she pulled away with a pout on her face.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Sarah shook her head, “It’s small and cramped and you can hear everything that everyone is saying.”

That became ever so obvious when the four of them dropped silent, and everything that was being said at the front of the plane seemed to get louder.  YN tipped her head down the centre aisle to see a few of the other members of the band, as well as the opening act. Although YN couldn’t see exactly who was in the middle of the group, she had an incline that Mary would be one of those present.

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” YN nods, grimacing slightly, “I think I’d lose my head if I was stuck on a plane with just my band.”

“You’d have Leroy, yeah?” Harry mumbles, dropping his head down onto YN’s shoulder.

“Yes, I would have Leroy, but I don’t think even he’d be the best company that I’ve ever had,” YN shrugs, moving her arm slightly so that Harry could get even more comfortable.

“He seems alright from what I’ve seen,” Sarah shrugs.

YN groans, “He is, he’s okay. He’s just forty and I think he’s potentially going through a midlife crisis and that isn’t exactly where I’m at in my life.”

Sarah and Mitch both laugh at her words, and it’s at that point that they realise that Harry’s already fallen asleep. It hadn’t taken him long. YN gently kicks her bag over to Sarah, asking if she can take a photo of the two of them. YN smiles as Sarah points the polaroid in her and Harry’s direction, the man already beginning to drool on her shoulder – but she didn’t mind.

Sarah passed the printed photo to YN, smiling as she watched the girl shake the print a few times before smiling at the sight. YN was smiling in the photo, but it seemed as though Sarah had managed to capture YN as she had turned to look at Harry’s sleeping form. It was a beautiful photo, and it would be one that YN would cherish forever.

“Can I ask you both something?” YN asked after a minute or so, her eyes dropping to Harry just to ensure that the man was still asleep. It was then that YN realised that Mitch had also fallen asleep, and it was just her and Sarah left awake, “Or, can I ask you something, Sarah?”

“Of course, you can,” Sarah responded quickly, as if it was the easiest response in the world.

YN sighed, her eyes resting upon the photo that she had left face-up on the table in front of them, “How is he? Genuinely.”

“Harry?” Sarah asked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as YN nodded, “He seems fine to me.”

YN nodded, “It’s just… I mean, we didn’t talk much before I came out and it just feels… possibly, as though he’s hiding something.”

Sarah shook her head, “I highly doubt it, YN. That boy can’t keep secrets for shit. When he first started seeing you, Mitch and I could tell that something was off with him, but he kept denying it and denying it until he said that someone was joining us in the studio the next day.”

“And it was me,” YN smiled, remembering that day.

She had been nervous when Harry had asked her to come into the studio with him. She knew the band and had already met them many times before (being on tour with them and everything) but, seeing as though she left that tour in a less than desirable way she was nervous to see them all again. The nerves also came being in the studio with them, and whilst yes she performed in front of them every night – being in a studio with them was a completely different experience. It was way more raw, and exposed and vulnerable.

But, despite all of YN’s worries and her concerns none of it mattered. None of it mattered because the second that she walked into that studio; they all accepted her with open arms. It was as though none of them judged her or thought less of her due to what happened and instead, they all just cared about her well-being, and also any of the ideas that she may have.

“I wouldn’t worry, YN,” Sarah shook her head, “I think you would know if you had anything to worry about.”

YN had hoped that would ease her mind.

There was a part of her that knew that from Harry’s side, she had nothing to worry about. She knew that he was in love with her, and she was with him and there was no reason for her to dispute that ever. The thing that worried YN was that she knew that Mary harnessed some of those feelings for Harry, and she had no reason not to act on them. Whilst to some people, being in a relationship would be reason enough not to try something with a person –unfortunately, YN knew better when it came to some musicians.

At the same time though, she could be worrying herself for no reason and she had no reason to judge Mary at this point as she didn’t know the girl. But there was something in the back of her mind nagging her that she should trust her gut and trust her instincts.

She just hoped that her instincts were wrong.

The second that YN stepped into her and Harry’s hotel room, she made a beeline for the shower. Harry trailed behind her, but they didn’t say a word to each other. Her conversation with Sarah and her doubts were spiralling around her head.

With a sigh, YN reached into the shower to turn the water on, taking a second or so to allow the water to warm up before she stripped and stepped inside. It always felt night to wash travel off of her body, and that was no different now that she was in a private jet instead of just a normal plane. The shower allowed for YN to wash the flight off of her, but also allowed her body to relax from all of the thoughts that had been circling in her brain.

She had just begun to shampoo her hair when the door opened, revealing Harry’s body ready to get into the shower with her.

“Can I join you?” He asked, a soft expression on his face rather than what she expected it to have.

YN nodded her head, “Help me shampoo?”

Harry smiled but nodded, stepping into the shower, and closing the door behind him. He wasted no time in slipping his hands through her already soapy hair and began to massage her scalp, just as she had been doing but it felt so much better when he was doing it.

The fact that Harry was so close to her, and yet she felt as though there were things that they both were hiding from each other. It was difficult, and her brain was struggling to handle that fact. The last time she felt like this, she would turn to drugs, alcohol, or anything just to numb the feelings that she was having. And yet, she couldn’t do that now. She wouldn’t do that now.

Instead, as Harry continued to run his fingers through her hair the only way that she could express what she was feeling was by crying. It started as one tear slipping down her cheek until multiple were and then her shoulders started to shake. Harry’s hands stopped running through her hair, and that was when she knew that he had noticed her crying.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry’s hands grasped her shoulders, turning her around so that she was facing him. The water began to run over her head, and she closed her eyes so that none of the shampoo would go into her eyes. The crying didn’t necessarily help with that, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” YN shook her head, but she couldn’t stop the crying either, “I don’t know, I’m fine I think.”

“Well, you’re not,” Harry pointed out with a small smile on his face, his thumb coming to rest on the soft skin of her cheek, “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just tell me how I can help.”

That only made YN cry more. The fact that Harry was so understanding of her, and seemed to know exactly what she needed even when she didn’t even know herself.

“It’s nothing, I swear,” YN pouted slightly, “I think I’m just sad that I’m leaving in a few days.”

“YN,” Harry shook his head, moving closer to her to wrap his arms around her body. YN slipped hers around his waist, pushing her body as close as she could to his.

If she didn’t feel comfortable enough at this moment to say how she truly felt, she knew that she could say something else. It wasn’t a lie either, because there was a nagging in her head that worried about how both of them would respond to being apart again. She hadn’t even thought about her tour the entire time that she had been here, and that thought was slowly creeping up to the forefront of her mind as well.

“I’m sorry,” She shook her head, “I don’t know, I think I’m maybe just nervous about my tour and leaving you.”

“Don’t apologise,” Harry shook his head, placing a kiss to her forehead, “I feel the same way.”

YN’s heart broke at the fact that Harry was feeling this way too. She supposed that he didn’t have the same feelings regarding Mary that she did, but that didn’t matter. She was struggling with the idea of leaving him with no control over the situation, and also toying with the stress of being without him.

It was a struggle that neither both of them would have to do alone though, and that was the bliss of it she supposed.

“Hey, we’ll call at every opportunity,” Harry nods, dipping his head so that he caught her eye-line, “I promise I’ll be better.”

“You’re perfect,” YN shook her head, “As long as we do this together, we’ll be fine.”

Harry dipped his head down once more to place his lips onto hers, and she accepted the kiss with no hesitation. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, a small smile crossing her face as she did.

“I have an idea,” Harry spoke, his head resting upon hers, “But I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

“What is it?” YN lifted her head up, the water still cascading over her shoulders.

“I want you to come on stage tonight,” He spoke, looking down at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes, “I want to sing Cherry, with you – just us.”

YN began to cry again, but it wasn’t due to any sadness, but it was just the overwhelming amount of love that she felt for the man in her arms.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“We’re starting in Nevada,” YN spoke, her fingernail tapping against the glass of water she had in her hand as she spoke to Jeff, “Then it’s three months, I think, maybe four and then we’re finishing in L.A. Troubadour actually.”

“God, that’s amazing YN,” Jeff shook his head, a proud and truly glad expression on his face, “Let me know the date and I’ll see if Harry’s free.”

YN’s face broke out into a smile, “I’ll get Leroy to send the details over, I’d love to have him come out.”

“I’m sure he’d love it too.”

Harry and YN had already spoken about whether or not he was going to join her for her last show, and seeing as though his tour would be long done and he’d be back at home in L.A, it made sense. There was the panic that came over YN’s body at Harry’s request of flying his mother out so she could meet YN and see them perform. YN had never been in a relationship such as this one before, one that felt as though it was going to last and to the point where meeting parents was actually on the cards. But, she wasn’t going to say that to Harry when he had been so excited over the prospect.

“Speaking of Harry,” Jeff sighed, checking his watch, “He should be here. Mary finished five minutes or so ago.”

“Oh,” YN looked around the room and saw Sarah and Mitch and other members of the band but no Harry, “He’s probably in his dressing room, I’ll go get him.”

YN placed her glass down on the table and walked out of the room. Harry’s dressing room was just down the hall, and she had been in there with him earlier but she could tell that he needed a moment so she decided the best thing to do was make herself scarce. It didn’t upset her that he needed his space, God knows she’s the same before she performs but it was strange that he wasn’t with the rest of the band when they were supposed to be going on stage soon.

Not thinking that anything would be amis, YN opened the door and walked into the room and then her heart dropped.

Harry was sitting on the sofa, with Mary straddled across his lap and their faces pressed together. YN must have gasped, because both of them turned to her. Harry immediately threw Mary off his lap, but it seemed that all three of them were frozen in shock.

YN’s eyes started to glass over, “Jeff is, uh, looking for you.”

Without another word YN turned and walked out of the room, ignoring Harry’s calls of her name from behind her. She walked towards the green room but before she could step inside, Sarah threw the door open.

“Oh,” Sarah jumped slightly at YN being stood outside the door, “Are you okay?”

The girl’s expression dropped at the shocked look on YN’s, “I’m fine. Is it time?”

“Yeah, we’re just ready to go,” Sarah’s attention was taken by Harry and Mary walking towards them from behind YN, and even though she wanted nothing more than to turn and walk away from this entire thing, she had made a promise to perform with them, and it would look strange if she didn’t uphold that promise.

It was also a good way of ensuring that YN didn’t do something that she would regret in the future.

“Let’s get this show on the road then,” YN nodded and turned and walked away from the group without another word.

When Harry began performing, it was obvious that something was amiss. He wasn’t his usual chatty self, and there were few times that YN thought that he was going to cry. YN tried with everything in her might not to cry, because she wasn’t going to give Mary (who was standing just a few feet away from her) that satisfaction. The girl, even though she might have been involved in one of the worst things that had ever happened to YN seemed to have not a single feeling about the situation. But YN also knew that when someone was using heavy drugs, just as Mary was emotions and reality didn’t exactly work the same as a normal person would.

That angered YN more than she expected it to.

She hadn’t even realised how much time had passed until a microphone was being thrust into her hand, and she realised that Harry was speaking to the crowd.

“Now,” He held his hands out to quieten the crowd as much he could, “I have a very special guest coming out tonight to sing this next song with me. She’s… she’s my world, she’s my everything and I love her so much. So, can you all make some noise for YN YLN!”

Exhaling a breath, YN walked out onto the stage. It was crazy to her that the second she found herself on stage and she heard the crowd chanting her name – all of her worries seemed to ease ever so slightly.

The music started, and she turned to look at Harry, but he was staring straight ahead as though he was trying everything in his power not to look at her. It broke YN’s heart.

“Don’t you call him baby/ we’re not talking lately/ don’t you call him what you used to call me,” Harry started to sing, and even though YN tried not to she couldn’t help but be captivated by him, “I, I confess I can tell that you are your best/ I’m selfish so I’m hating it,”

YN lifted her microphone up to her lips, trying to compose herself before she started singing , “I’ve noticed that there’s a piece of me in how you dress/ I take it as a compliment,” YN took a breath, “Don’t you call me baby/ We’re not talking lately/ He doesn’t call me what you used to call me.”

Once she had finished singing, she turned to look at Harry who was this time staring right at her. He had angled his body in her direction, and she did the same for him. Now, it didn’t matter how many other people were on stage with them, or how many people were in the audience listening to them. It was as though they were the only two people on the stage.

And it broke YN’s heart.

“I, I just miss/ I just miss your accent and your friends/ Do you know I still talk to them?” YN closed her eyes, listening to Harry and everything that he was singing at her. His voice broke, but he managed to recover quicker than YN would have been able to.

“You know he takes me walking round his parents’ gallery,” YN could feel the tears starting to collect in her eyes, and she saw that the same were collecting in Harry’s.

“Don’t you call him [me] baby/ We’re not talking lately,” Everything that was wanting to be said between the two of them was being spoken to each other just by the looks in their eyes. The hurt, the betrayal, the regret. To an outsider, this must have been the oddest experience and yet one that spoke the loudest words.

 “Don’t you call him what you used to call me.,” The two of them finish at the same time and there was silence, “He doesn’t call me what you used to call me.”

Once the crowd broke out into cheers they both knew – it was over.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-seven

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: please know, I do try really hard to get updates out every day but sometimes life happens. This story is so so important, I'm taking my time writing each chapter; especially since each chapter has been at least 7k words. Anway, enjoy!

Tags: @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond

JOLLY

I stood in front of the coffee maker in our little makeshift kitchen on our bus as I waited for the coffee to brew. The usual cup I drank my coffee in hung from my fingers as I held it up in the air, the black letters spelling my name read upside down. There were deep brown stains etched into the ceramic and I mumbled to myself that I should wash it.

Once the coffee was poured over the old stains, I eased onto the couch while browsing through the emails in my inbox. Even though Finding God Before God Finds Me was released last year, the record label was pressuring us to write the next album which is the email I was reading right now. Matt told them that once the tour was over, we'd buckle down and start but that didn't seem to satisfy them.

A humming tune filtered from the back of the bus and I quickly recognized it as Noah. He was humming a tune that wasn't familiar to me and I leaned on my knees so I could look back into the bunk area of the bus, smirking when I saw him dancing; the tune getting louder.

Someone's in a good mood.

Ever since he and Y/N returned from the funeral a few days ago, Noah's spirits were surprisingly lifted. We were afraid he would come back in a catatonic state but he had a large smile on his face. They wouldn't say it but we knew something happened while they were gone.

Noah finally caught my amused expression, and he stilled, a red hue crossing over his cheeks. "I didn't know you were awake."

I hummed while taking a long sip of coffee. "Care to explain what has you in a jolly mood?"

He rolled his eyes while throwing a shirt at me. "Your dad jokes are getting worse."

"Avoiding the subject, I see," I teased while catching the shirt.

Noah shut himself in the bathroom but not before flipping me off.

NOAH

Shaking out the water from my hair, I stepped into the front area of the bus, not surprised to see Chase and Malcolm lounging on our couches. We just arrived to the venue but didn't have to worry about soundcheck until way later so we planned on hanging out on the busses. I noted how close the two of them sat next to each other, Chase's knee bumping with Malcolm's.

"You two should travel with us at this point since you're always here," I joked while grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sitting next to Nick at the dinette table.

"If we could talk Y/N into it, we would," Malcolm grumbled.

Looking closer at them, I noticed the bruised knuckles on both of their hands.

"What the hell happened?"

Chase rubbed his head. "The other night, we got into it with Trey. We were tired of watching him treat Y/N like how he has and had enough."

I let out a low whistle while my heart hammered in my chest at hearing her name. "I'd hate to see what he looks like."

"Let's just say he's lucky he had a few days off to lick his wounds," Malcolm said.

"Where's Y/N, anyway?" Folio asked while sitting next to Jolly.

Malcolm drummed his fingers over his thigh as he sat back against the couch. "She's locked herself in her bunk because she doesn't want anyone to see her."

"Did something happen?" I rushed out in one breath while grabbing the water bottle tightly, the loud crackling noise echoing throughout the bus.

"She's fine. Actually, more than fine. She's in such a great mood she's been humming around the bus a lot lately. I think she's working on a new song," Chase said.

My stomach burned with the best intensity knowing that I was the reason for that.

"But the reason she doesn't want to see anyone is because she's afraid you guys will make a big deal out of today," Malcolm added.

"What's today?" I asked with a raised brow.

"It's her birthday," Chase informed.

Nick and I shared a look, almost immediately thinking the same thought.

"Text her and tell her you need to show her something inside the venue," I nodded towards Chase.

With his phone in his hand, fingers typing away, he still shot me a weary look. "What are you planning, Noah?"

I stood from the table and looked towards Folio. "Text Matt and say we need to borrow the van again today."

He winced. "He's still pretty upset about the sand in the van. I don't know if he'll let us."

"Matt will get over it," I shrugged while rummaging through my suitcase to grab a few things. "We're not going to let her spend her birthday alone on the tour bus."

Chase and Malcolm rose and muttered something under their breath to themselves before the latter ran a hand through his long auburn hair.

"It seems like you've got something planned but if I can suggest something?"

I set the beanie on top of my head and then nodded. "Of course."

"There's this Dasio store in town that she not so subtly brought up on the way here," Malcolm said.

"Oh, the one in that little outlet mall in town? It had the jewelry store right next to it? I saw it," Nick said nodding.

Chase held up his phone towards us. "She wants to know what I want to show her inside the venue."

Shit, I thought she'd take the bait.

I shrugged on my black hoodie. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."

Everyone smirked at my mischievous voice, and Malcolm motioned towards their bus. "She's alone so don't have to worry about any surprises."

"Meet you guys at the van."

Bounding down the stairs of my bus, I jogged the few feet distance to Hollow Souls bus and quietly sneaked inside where I heard a noise coming from her bunk. Ignoring how similar our buses looked, I stood in place, body frozen, as the soft melody of her voice crept deep inside my bones.

"But for now we stay so far til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in my arms so instead you'll be in my mind."

I clutched my chest as she sang the words a few more times in different octaves of voice, trying to find the one that worked best. It wasn't anything like how she sang on stage. This had more passion behind the words and if I saw her, I bet her eyes would be closed in concentration, soft lips breathing out the words.

Fuck.

Shifting on my feet at the feeling of all the blood running to my dick as I remembered our kiss, I returned my focus to the whole reason I snuck on the bus. Yanking the curtain to her bunk back, I smirked as Y/N let out a shrilled shriek while covering her face with shaking hands.

"What the fuck, Noah! You scared the shit out of me," she seethed with no ounce of venom behind it.

My lips curled up in a lopsided smile. "Happy birthday, angel."

She stared up at me from her bunk with a surprised gaze but then a low scowl fell on her lips. "They told you?"

Ignoring her, I pointed to her outfit of black biker shorts and a black fitted tank; to me, she looked fucking breathtaking in this simple outfit, but I wanted to make sure that's what she wanted to wear out today. This day was about her and whatever she wanted, I'd give it to her.

"Fine with wearing that?" I asked.

I saw the way her eyes dwindled as the fight within her mind took over.

"Why?" She dragged out the word.

"Because you have two seconds to decide if you want to change or not. It's your choice; I'm not going to force you to change if you're happy with how you look."

She had her long hair pulled back in a tight braid but there was one small strand that hung into her eyes and she brushed it away eventually giving me a small nod.

"I'm happy with wearing this," her voice was quiet almost afraid that I'd change my mind.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, an action she watched with intent eyes. "Good."

"What are you-?"

With my hand around her ankle, I slid her off of her bunk and threw her over my shoulder to carry her out of her bus. She protested by smacking my back but remembered what I told her the last time she was in this position.

"My shoes!" She yelled.

I turned around in a giant circle so fast; that she giggled with pure delight. It made my heart ache with the need to always hear that sound.

"Which ones?"

Y/N did the best she could to point in the right direction. "The bunk above mine has my shoes. Grab my docs."

Swiping them, I continued my run down the stairs to the outside air, her body bounding against my shoulder.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked.

"No, you're fine, Noah," she giggled. "But I'd love to know why you're kidnapping me."

I playfully scoffed. "It's not kidnapping if you're going to enjoy this."

Her nails scratched at my back and I shivered under her touch. "Hm, don't tempt me with a good time."

Swallowing thickly the desire to throw her against the bus to attack her lips again, I walked towards the van just in time to see Folio emerge from our bus.

"Shit, I didn't grab a jacket," Y/N cursed.

"Folio, can you grab my leather jacket? The one on my bunk?"

He raised a brow. "You sure you want that one?"

"Special occasion," I smirked while gently patting Y/N's ass.

"Hey!" she protested. "I'm way too old for birthday spanks!"

Don't fucking tempt me, angel.

Once we reached the van, I set her gently on her feet when Jolly and Nick took turns in a birthday celebratory hug. As much as she wanted to be upset about us celebrating her, the smile on her face gave her away. Chase wrapped an arm around her and left a kiss on her forehead while Malcolm did his typical fist bump.

"Happy birthday, kid." He said.

"Kid?" Her brows pulled together. "I'm older than you, dumbass."

Malcolm's fingers gently brushed across Chase's and I tilted my head at the small action.

"Yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes.

Chase whispered something low in Y/N's ear and I watched as her face turned stone for a few brief seconds before giving a slow nod.

"I'm fine, Chase. The cramps haven't been that bad."

"Did you take your meds?" Malcolm asked. "I know you were worried about getting it refilled while on the road."

Y/N locked eyes with me for a few long seconds but before I could ask anything about whatever meds Malcolm was talking about, she turned her back to me so they could have their private conversation.

"Happy birthday!" Folio beamed his usual bright smile before giving her a high five and handed me my jacket with the free hand.

The smack echoed throughout the entire parking lot, and she hissed out in pain, shaking her hand.

"Y/N gets shotgun!" I raised my hand in the air, deciding it would be best to ignore the private conversation she had with Malcolm and Chase.

If she wanted me to know, she would tell me.

Y/N quickly shot me down. "No. I'm fine sitting in the back."

"Not going to happen, angel, it's your day. You ride front and center."

Even though we were almost ready to leave, we were waiting for Bryan who wanted to tag along to create a vlog day video for us. There was a chain-like fence that blocked off the edge of the parking lot with the sidewalk and I sat on it while I waited. Y/N watched me with a careful gaze and arms crossed over her chest.

"Please be careful, Noah."

"It's pretty sturdy. See?" I held onto it while jumping on my feet.

But my heart jumped into my throat when I felt myself lean too far forward and as I prepared myself to fall face-first into the concrete, Y/N's arms wrapped around me to save me.

"Shit, thanks," I muttered while back on my feet and rubbed the back of my neck.

"Looks like I'll be catching you when you fall," she winked.

I looked down at her full lips and the same pull that connected us made me dip my head low to close the distance when Bryan's loud voice caused me to take a step back.

"Matt wants us to bring some mochis for him since he's letting us borrow the van."

Jolly rolled his eyes. "Of course he does."

Bryan raised his camera towards Y/N. "Happy Birthday!"

When the large smile spread across her face as she threw up a peace sign, posing for the picture, my heart swelled inside my chest and the butterflies fluttered their wings at a rapid pace.

She's fucking beautiful.

"Hey!" We all turned our attention to the person who shouted, seeing Matt poke his head out from the crew's bus. "Be back by one for sound check! And fill up the van when you're done!"

"Yes, sir!" Y/N saluted.

Even though he was flipping her off, Matt smiled as he wished her a happy birthday.

"Alright, we should go," I wrangled everyone up into the van and then slid behind the wheel.

Once we were all settled, I handed Y/N the aux cord. "Birthday girl gets to choose the music."

She broke out in a wide grin and quickly pulled up some music on her phone. "I know exactly who I'm putting on."

Malcolm, who was sitting in the middle row with Chase and Bryan, leaned forward towards Y/N. "Joe?"

"Hell yes."

"Who's Joe?" I asked with a raised brow but kept my eyes on the road.

"Joe Mulherin. But he goes by the stage name nothing, nowhere," Y/N informed before deciding on a song.

I shrugged as the strum of notes played on the speakers. "I've never heard of him."

"He's pretty small, few people know about him," Malcolm said.

"Malcolm was the one who told me about nothing, nowhere. I've been obsessed with him the last year," Y/N admitted with a sheepish smile.

Taking my eyes off of the road for a brief second, I threw her a teasing wink. "Oh, should I be worried?"

"I don't know," Y/N rested her elbow on the armrest with her chin in her palm. "If Hollow Souls has the chance to tour with nothing, nowhere, I'm taking it."

"Over me?" I pushed out my bottom lip in mock disappointment.

She flicked my nose with her finger. "Definitely."

Her giggles bounced off the confines of the van as I took off my beanie and tossed it to her, both of our smiles radiating light. With the music tangling in the air with the various conversations, I looked into the rearview mirror out of habit and noticed Chase tuck a strand of Malcolm's hair behind his ear.

Y/N saw my confused gaze and rested a hand on my knee, squeezing me. "They'll tell you later."

I rested my hand over hers and squeezed it. "Well, are you ready for the first stop on your birthday surprise?"

"I can't wait!"

Her eyes sparkled with the brightness that made my heart stop every single time she looked at me like that.

NOAH

"Y/N, look at this," I chuckled while throwing on a random animal hat I'd found in an aisle at the Dasio store.

She was looking through some merchandise with Nick and when she turned up her gaze at me; she burst out into a fit of giggles, her hand covering her mouth.

"Wow, I love the new look, Noah. You should go on stage with it tonight. I can see the memes now. 'this is your favorite metal singer?"

Bryan, who also thought it was hilarious snapped a few pictures which gave Y/N the idea too as well but with her phone. I gave her a wide smile as she snapped a few pictures and when she was finished, I took off the hat then handed it to her. She eyed it warily.

"What?"

"It's only fair I get some pictures of the birthday girl wearing it," I said with a small smile.

I thought for sure she would fight it instead she put the hat on happily and threw up a sideways peace sign. Bryan and I both took an insane amount of pictures before I pocketed my phone and figured now would be the perfect time to slip away for the next phase of her birthday surprise.

"Shit, we should probably head back to the venue for a soundcheck," I made a show of checking my watch.

It was only noon but I needed a diversion and also because we needed Nick to have enough time to set up for the third phase of Y/N's birthday celebration.

"I'll meet you guys at the van in ten minutes," I handed Y/N my leather jacket. "It's cold out now."

"Always looking out for me," she mused while slipping on the jacket.

Fuck, she looked so good wearing it.

The sudden urge to see her wearing more of my clothes filled me but I ignored it by clearing my throat. "I'll meet you at the van. Think of what you want for your birthday lunch."

Her hand caressed mine as I walked past her and every fiber of my existence buzzed with electricity.

"Where are you going?"

I leaned close to her ear; the words brushing against her skin. "If I tell you, then it ruins the surprise, angel."

With a wink, I jogged out of the Dasio store into the small shop right next door. The lady behind the counter gave me a warm smile as she beckoned me over with a wave.

"Hi there, what are we looking for today?"

"Uh," I rubbed my chin with nerves because I realized I didn't know what type Y/N likes. But can never go wrong with something simple. "Do you have any matching sets?"

I pointed down the silver array in the glass case, and the lady smiled. "Like his and hers?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"We'll look at the more feminine choices first before looking for some for you."

For the next few minutes, she helped me choose the best set for Y/N and me. When she was bagging everything up after I paid, she raised a curious brow.

"Whoever she is must be special."

"Yeah," my heart skipped a beat. "She really is."

READER

"No fucking way!" I squealed. "Are you serious?!"

Nick buzzed the gun in his hand a few times and finished setting up the small cups full of different colored inks.

"What did you want to get done?" Nick questioned.

My mind filled with different options and designs but knowing we were pressed on time for before the show tonight, I went with a small design from another one of my favorite animes My Neighbor Totoro.

"I've been wanting to get a small Totoro tattoo for a while now," I beamed. "Another one of my favorite animes."

"Alright, give me a few minutes to get it drawn up."

I wrapped my arms around Nick. "Thank you."

"Of course, Y/N. Happy birthday," he returned the hug.

"So, who's first? Me or you?"

Turning on my heels, I let Nick finish setting up and stared up at Noah, his words registering in my brain.

"Wait, you're getting a tattoo as well?" I asked.

He gave me a lazy smile. "Yep. I was going to get Aogaeru."

My eyes widened. "The frog from Spirited Away? Are you serious?"

Noah stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged as if this idea wasn't a big deal.

"It was the first movie we watched together in the hotel after Keaton's funeral. Means a lot to me."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"

Noah brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from my braid behind my ear, fingers trailing against the skin of my neck.

"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," he vowed with hooded eyes as he stared down at my lips.

Memories of our kiss flashed in my mind, and I clenched my legs together. It had been days since then and every second since, the only thing I felt were his lips and how they tasted. It haunted my dreams in the best way and I craved to feel his kiss once again.

Trey. Don't forget about your boyfriend.

Right, the same boyfriend who didn't bother to say happy birthday before he left for his interview.

"I have something for you," Noah's deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts of his lips on every inch of me.

"Noah, you've done enough," I said.

He ran a hand through his hair before pulling out two velvet boxes from a bag that was sitting on the couch of the green room where we all were hanging out. My heart stopped for three seconds as he handed them to me.

"No-Noah," I stumbled over his name, shock filling me. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Now open it."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I opened the box, and a gasp left my lips as the silver necklace and matching bracelet shined under the light of the room. It wasn't anything over the top and there were no diamonds but that didn't matter to me. I wasn't one for over-the-top jewelry, this simple chain and bracelet were enough.

With wet eyes, I gazed up at Noah, who had a nervous look on his face as he fiddled with his wooden rosary. "Do you like it?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into my embrace, burying my face into his neck. "I love it, Noah. Thank you so much."

His large hands gripped my hips as we stood there in each other's embrace for a few more long moments, enjoying the warmth of each other. My mind was racing in pace with how fast my heart was beating as the sudden realization hit. My feelings for Noah slammed into me like a fucking freight train and I nearly choked on them.

Noah leaves an imprint on me like I’ve never felt before. He is a permanent mark on my skin, deeper than any tattoo or scar. I can pinch myself and feel the pressure want to implode because he's burrowed there. Even if it imploded, it would heal over and Noah would still have his imprint on me. It seemed as if he was meant to be there and as I stared into his deep brown eyes, almost black with his feelings, I decided I never wanted to remove him.

"You know," Noah cleared his throat while stepping away from me. "I got-."

"Noah, can I talk to you quickly?"

Nick motioned Noah over to where he finished setting up for our tattoos.

"Go," I nodded. "I'm sure we'll have more time to talk tonight."

With a reluctant sigh, he squeezed my hand as he met Nick halfway. My gaze lingered at his back and my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I stared a little too long at the way his jeans hugged his ass.

Someone cleared their throat from behind causing me to jump and I gave Jolly a sheepish smile. "I wasn't-."

He hummed while taking a long sip of his beer. "I see everything, you know."

I pursed my lips while clearing my throat and adjusted the leather jacket; Noah's leather jacket. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jolly."

"You sure about that?" He motioned to the jacket.

Rolling my eyes, I smacked his chest playfully before going to sit on the couch in the green room.

NOAH

"What's up?" I asked Nick.

"You're getting matching tattoos with her?"

I ran a hand over my chin, already preparing myself for this conversation. I knew the guys wouldn't understand why I was doing this but as long as Y/N didn't mind, that's all that mattered.

"You're thinking too much into it, Nick. It's just a tattoo. Plus, it's not matching. I'm getting one from a different anime," I said.

He shrugged. "Can you blame me? I'm just worried you slipping too close to the edge for her and you're about to fall without someone there to catch you. We barely got you back the last time this-."

"Don't," I sliced my eyes into him. "I don't want to talk about her."

Nick let out a deep breath and nodded, patting my shoulder. "Alright. I'm just worried, that's all."

Guilt ate away at me when I realized I snapped at him when Nick was coming from a good place. She fucked me up years ago, and it was something I was still dealing with to this day.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. Whenever she's brought up, I go back to that place, and today out of all days, I don't want to go there."

"What's taking so long?" Y/N came up beside Nick and poked his side. "Birthday girl is getting impatient."

I snorted. "You heard her, Nick."

For the next couple hours, we all chatted about our lives before becoming a band and I found out a lot about Y/N that I couldn't find out on the internet. She has a black cat back home in Vegas named Salem; a friend of hers takes care of him while she's on the road. She was adopted at six months old but her parents divorced when she was sixteen; her dad moved to Japan while her mom stayed in Vegas. She saw her dad every so often and wished that she moved with him instead of staying with her mom. Y/N felt like she had to stay with her because the divorce hit her mom hard which ended up almost destroying their relationship.

"Have you visited your dad recently?" Nick asked as he finished putting the cream over her fresh tattoo.

It was a small design of Totoro on her ankle; mine mirrored hers in design and placement.

"It's been a few years. I've been so busy with Hollow Souls that it's hard to take a trip that far. But I try to talk to him every day," she said with a smile.

"I'm sorry the relationship with your mom isn't the greatest," Jolly frowned.

Y/N shrugged. "I love her but sometimes she forgets how to be a mom. She'd rather be a friend."

Chase kissed the side of her head since he sat next to her on the couch. "It's her own fault. She's missing out on seeing the kick-ass women you've grown into, Y/N."

"Yeah, fuck her!" Malcolm cheered while finishing his second beer.

Y/N tried to chastise him for cursing her mom but eventually, she agreed with a curt nod.

I sat on the armrest of the couch next to her. "Our tattoos look sick."

"I still can't believe you got a Totoro tattoo just because I like it," she chuckled while resting a hand on my thigh.

"That's exactly why I got it, angel."

Folio handed her a drink before passing out the rest of the bottles to all of us and I raised my beer in the air. "Happy birthday, Y/N! I hope you had a great fucking day because you deserve it."

She tapped her bottle with everyone before she turned towards me, a glimmering light beneath her pupils. "Thank you, Noah, sincerely. You've made the last few weeks something truly memorable."

We clinked out bottles and as I brought it to my lips; she watched it with careful determination.

Suddenly, her phone began to ring and as I peered down at it, my heart sank low to the depths of my stomach.

Trey.

"What the fuck does he want," she grumbled while standing to her feet.

"I doubt it's to wish you a happy birthday. Prick has been gone all day for a two-hour interview," Malcolm said.

She waved him off as she slipped into the hallway, leaving the door cracked open a bit, just enough to hear parts of her conversation.

"You were the one who left me alone today, Trey."

"I didn't plan on celebrating my birthday today. Noah surprised me with everything, I would not say no."

"Holy Hades, you're delusional. Nothing is going on between us. He's just a friend."

The words would have stung if I believed her but I didn't. We both knew that our feelings for each other were more than friends; the kiss proved it. My lips tingled as I remembered how she tasted or the way her teeth grazed across my bottom lip.

"Why should I come to you? It's not like you have anything for me."

There was a long beat of silence. "I'm sorry but the last thing I want right now is mediocre birthday sex where you'll get to finish while I'm laying there getting myself off as you fall asleep."

I didn't know whether to be impressed at her witty comeback or upset at the fact that she was stuck with that kind of guy.

Why the hell did she continue to stay with him?

"You didn't even post anything about my birthday!" She seethed, her anger echoing into the room. "You might think it's stupid but I don't know; to me it means something. Fucking Bryan posted a video compilation for me."

"Bryan's their photographer you fucking dick! Oh, my Hades. Not every guy I hang out with is trying to sleep with me."

Bryan shifted in his seat. "This guy sounds like a real prick."

Chase drained half of his beer in one go. "We know."

While she continued to talk on the phone with Trey, I whipped out my phone with a small smile pulling at my lips.

READER

"Yeah, fuck you too," I spat while ending the call.

Trey promised that if I met him on the bus, he'd make my birthday worth it.

"He can't even find my spot, how the fuck is he going to make it worth it." I rubbed the frustration out on my forehead with a long, calming breath.

Many would ask why I continued to stay with Trey but the answer was simple; he was familiar.

A familiar asshole who doesn't deserve you.

That part was true. It was my birthday and what did Trey do? Nothing. While all the guys spent the last few hours making me feel so adored and thought of, Trey didn't even post on his social media for me but you know who did?

Trey and Malcolm made compilations of random pictures throughout our time in Hollow Souls together.

Both Nick's and Jolly posted pictures they took of me while on stage to say happy birthday.

Even Bryan posted a small video compilation of me from when we went to the zoo.

With my phone still in my hand, it buzzed letting me know I received yet another tag on Instagram. This post was the only one that made my heart stutter wildly in my chest. Two pictures. The first was the picture he took of me today at the Dasio store with the animal hat on my head. The second one was a picture of our tattoos. The words he wrote in the caption made the butterflies flutter in my gut.

Happy birthday @y/n! I'm not attempting to be corny or some shit on this app, but I will say this: tour and this whole experience has been sick, and it’s been such a privilege to be in your presence, your talent is beyond measure, you inspire me more than you know and I hope you enjoy yourself. You deserve it. 🧡 P.S. The tattoo I got today hurt like a bitch.

Of course, he limited the amount of comments on the post but that didn't stop the few fans that tossed their absurd accusations about the post.

"I'm so fucked." I muttered while double-clicking the picture.

NOAH

"Has anyone seen Y/N?" I asked while poking my head into the green room seeing Chase and Malcolm talking amongst themselves; pretty close.

When they heard me, they broke apart pretty fast, and I raised a brow to them while crossing my arms over my chest. "You guys don't have to hide this, you know?"

I could practically see the weight lift from Chase's shoulders as Malcolm held hands with him. "I told you, Chase; no one cares."

"It's not that. It's still new and I don't want to jinx it," Chase admitted.

"Well, good for you guys. I'm glad someone has a happy relationship in your band," I grumbled the last part to myself.

Malcolm snorted. "Why are you looking for Y/N?"

I held up a bottle of Hennessy. "Birthday shots before you guys go on stage."

Bad Omens finished their set a while ago with Y/N watching the entire time and every time I caught her eyes on side stage, I made sure to either wave or wink; something to let her know I was always thinking about her.

When Chase asked for the bottle, I tossed it to him. "I think she's on the bus getting ready."

Nodding to him, I quickly walked out of the venue and over to her bus with my nerves working into overdrive. I wanted to find her for birthday shots but there was also something I wanted to tell her; something that had been eating away at me for the last few days, since our kiss.

She needed to know the truth. I just hope she felt the same.

No, I shook my head. I know she did.

Hollow Souls bus was dark, with no sign of life, until I heard soft moans coming from the back bunk area and the sound of skin on skin.

"Shit, Trey. So good."

My jaw dropped in tangent with my heart as the feminine moans burned in my ears.

"Fuck, baby. You're so tight. I'm gonna-."

"Harder please."

"I'm better than him, right? He can't make you feel like this?"

"No, just you Trey."

I blinked slowly as my brain tried to process everything I was hearing. They were having sex, and she was enjoying it?

"Angel," I whispered as tears burned in my eyes.

Movement out of the window caught my attention just as Trey groaned out a name, one that wasn't Y/N's. It was white noise as I stared at my friend, who was outside laughing and smiling bright with Folio who was probably telling her the story about how he tried to catch this huge fish but ended up falling into the lake.

Oh, shit.

If Y/N was outside then who the fuck was in the bunk with Trey?

I fumed as I ran down the steps into the parking lot where Folio only stood, Y/N nowhere in sight. As he saw the anger radiating from me in waves, Folio stepped in front of me to stop me.

"Where's the fire, man?"

"Where's Y/N?" I asked, fingers shaking with the need to hit something.

"She's about to go on stage." Folio could sense something was off because he forced me to look at him. "What the hell is going on?"

Pressing my tongue to my cheek, I spat out the words like venom on my tongue. "I caught Trey cheating."

"Fuck," he cursed while running a hand over his face while pacing. "You're sure?"

I nodded. "Heard it loud and clear."

Nick and Jolly came down from our bus at that moment and immediately could feel the tension. "What's going on?"

Folio filled them in on what I had heard and they both had the same reaction as him.

"What are you going to do?" Jolly wondered.

I threw a hand towards the building. "I have to tell her; she deserves to know!"

"We know," Nick nodded. "But wait until after their set. Let her perform with a clear mind, alright? That's the last thing she needs to focus on while on stage."

"Fucking prick cheats on her on her birthday," Jolly fumed. "Who the fuck does that?"

As if he could hear us talking about him, Trey appeared from behind with a smug smile on his face and ran a hand through his messy curls. "Sorry, I missed your show, boys. I was kind of held up."

"Really? Cause I don't see Y/N anywhere," I stepped up into him.

Trey eyed me up and down. "My girlfriend is none of your business, Noah. Back off."

“She isn’t cattle for you to own, Trey. From what I’ve seen, you don’t love her. You were balls deep into someone less than ten minutes ago.”

“Shut the fuck up, man you don’t know anything," Trey pushed my chest.

Jolly stepped between us while both Nick and Folio grasped my arms to hold me back.

“No. No, I do. I see everything,” I said through gritted teeth.

Nick's tight grip on my forearm had me taking a large step away from Trey, letting out a deep breath.

"Might want to stick around for the show. I hear it's going to be one to remember," Trey flipped us off as he slithered inside the building.

"I really fucking hate him," I seethed.

NOAH

No. Fucking. Way.

I thought I was angry before but now; I was seeing red. Jolly and Nick flanked me on both sides while Folio stood off in front of me as we watched Hollow Souls finish their set. As usual, they killed it even with Trey but I couldn't focus on how beautiful Y/N looked tonight in her yellow flowy sundress or the white vans that seemed to glow underneath the stage lights. She took her hair out of her braid and it cascaded down her back in waves.

The only thing I could focus on was Trey and how he kept getting close to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her or even once trying to kiss her while she was on stage. She was uncomfortable; it was clear in the way her shoulders tensed when she kissed him back. My heart ached when I saw that but I couldn't dwell on the pain for long; I was buzzing as I waited for Y/N to come off stage so I could tell her what I heard but apparently, Trey had other plans.

"As some of you may know, today is Y/N's birthday so let's give her a huge round of fucking applause," Trey screamed into the mic.

Everyone in the crowd sang happy birthday along with Trey but neither Malcolm nor Chase helped, both seeing how uncomfortable Y/N was. It was if she shrunk into herself and let her hair fall into her face to hide.

"I love you so much, baby. Hollow Souls would be nothing without you. You truly make me a better man. I put a small video compilation together for you. You better like it," he ended his words with a wink.

Y/N's attention turned towards one of the large screens that we usually use for graphics for the show and immediately, everyone knew that this 'compilation' Trey threw together was a bunch of bullshit. It was mostly pictures of Trey with Y/N barely in the background or the pictures she was in were all of their media pictures. Not one personal picture he took of her.

As if she felt me watching, Y/N gazed over at me with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Alright, thanks so much Cincinnati! Have a good night and get home safe!" Malcolm called into the mic and cued the techs to start the nightly ritual of clean up.

Once she was cleared, Y/N sprinted off the stage over towards us but before I could even a second with her, Trey was hot on her tail.

"What, no thank you?" He demanded while grabbing her arm.

She ripped it from his grasp. "Fuck off! Why the hell would you do that? That stupid movie barely had any pictures of me!"

Trey clenched his jaw. "You're being ungrateful."

"Ungrateful?" she scoffed with wide eyes. "We both know the only reason you did that was because you wanted to one-up the guys. You don't give a shit."

"Baby, can we talk about this in private?" He tossed a glare towards us.

"Actually," I stepped towards her. "I really need to talk to you."

"I need to be alone," she mumbled under her breath.

Y/N pushed past me to continue her path outside where I followed behind, not ready to let this die. She needed to know the truth.

"Angel," I reached for her hand once we were outside.

"Noah, please," she let out a shaky breath. "I need to be alone."

I shook my head. "Give me five minutes."

"Oh, what's the problem wannabe Oli Sykes? Something upsetting you? Mad she won't spend the rest of her birthday with you?" Trey teased as he came up behind Y/N and wrapped an arm around her waist.

She brushed him off. "Can you give me a minute, Trey? Please, just a fucking minute."

Reluctantly he nodded but pulled her in for a heavy kiss and I averted my eyes down to my worn vans. I didn't need to watch as Y/N kissed him back for the briefest of moments before pushing on his chest.

"Two minutes then I want you on that bus, dress off," Trey smacked her ass before stalking up towards their bus.

Y/N wiped at her lips. "What do you want, Noah?"

"You can't go back to him, angel." I reached for her hand again and felt the weight around my heart ease when she intertwined our fingers together.

Tears burned in her eyes and I could tell she was seconds away from a breakdown.

"Why?" Her question wavered.

I swallowed the large lump in my throat. "He cheated on you, angel. I walked in on it."

Her broken stare barley lifted from the dirt on my shoes but the way she recoiled her hand from mine tightened the weight all over again.

"What?"

I tried to reach for her again but she smacked my hand away. "You're lying."

"I'm not," I shook my head. "Why would I lie to you about this?"

Her lips parted, nothing coming from her mouth, until she let out a stronger breath. "Be-because of the-."

Suddenly the anger intensified when I realized why she couldn't finish her sentence; she was afraid that if she said the word it would become real for her and force her to think about it.

"The kiss," I deadpanned. "You can say it, angel. We kissed. But that has nothing to do with Trey cheating on you!"

My voice was raised now, but I didn't care who heard. The only one that needed to be standing right in front of me.

"You're supposed to be my friend, Noah. Why would you even say that?"

Tears fell from her eyes and I had to force my hands into my pockets so I wouldn't wipe them away.

"That's why I'm telling you! And don't pull the friend card, you know this," I pointed between us. "Is more than that."

She turned her head away from me. "I don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit." I scoffed. "You know exactly how you feel, angel. Stop ignoring it."

"Did you see him?"

Her voice was so quiet, that I almost missed her question.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Did you see him?" She snapped, eyes slicing into me.

My nostrils flared. "No, but I heard him."

"Please, he could have been watching porn," she defended.

It was as if someone had slapped me across the face.

"I've listened to better audiobooks with sex than that," I said.

"Trey said you would do this. Tell lies to confuse me." She took a step away from me.

"You're taking his side over me? Even after everything he puts you through," I asked, dumbfounded.

She shook her head, not meeting my gaze again. "You don't get it."

"No, I get it loud and fucking clear, Y/N! You're so afraid of how you feel for me, for us, that you're staying with something familiar even though he treats you like shit!"

"There's no feelings here, Noah. That kiss was a mis-."

"Don't," I took a large step towards her. "We know it wasn't a mistake; we both wanted it."

Her tears stained her face, mascara leaving black trails underneath her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm used to this. I can handle it."

I stared at her for a long moment, shocked that she was taking Trey's side. Yes, I might not have seen him, but I know what I heard.

"Fine," I eventually nodded and ran an aggravating hand through my hair. "When you wake up from this delusional world you're in, you know where to find me."

With a final look of betrayal, I left her standing in the middle of the parking lot, her soft cries running daggers into my chest.