#but tyler's had enough excitement for one night already...

[brynberrycomic]

p378

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[flw3rrr]

Thank you for responding! And honestly, creative freedom! An idea could be y/n (or however you wanna write it) is new to the team and is a little too eager and Tyler has to be that 'in charge' 'voice of reason' when she wants to take too risky of chances(like maybe they're chasing a Tornado and she decided to jump out of the truck way too close, idk) .. But if that doesn't vibe with you, that's totally ok! My fav is when he ends up manhandling y/n or the reader😅

No sense of safety

Tyler owens x gn!reader

Warnings: Reader has no sense of safety keeping tyler on his toes, no description of reader, no mentions of y/n. reader is a little clumsy (mention only) But also saves a cat so it's worth it

A/n: Tysm for this request anon, and thanks for the creative freedom. i based it off the details you gave along with a bit of ideas from me. I really hope you enjoy it and feel free to request more!💖

word count: 2k

Not really proofread but a little is i like wrote this at 1am. sorry for any typos

Have a request? Feel free to send me it in my inbox!

The little diner that basically was in the middle of nowhere almost sounded silent, with the only things heard being the clinging off class plates or mugs. seniors mostly seen, and then in the corner the tornado wranglers sat. It was the happiest day for you today because you were new to the team, and excitement was built up deep within you.

You've known Tyler for some time and gotten close to him; he was the one who brought you to the world of tornado chasing, and you were glad he did. You enjoyed the science behind it and how many different ways someone could tell a tornado was forming, the speed of wind, and a ton more.

But when you become excited for something, you tend to lose all knowledge of safety. getting too eager to start the job and have fun, but of course Tyler knew you and how you got so the night before today he sat you down and told you the rules and not to forget any of them. which you replied to him you wouldn't.

Soon a hand landed on your shoulder, looking up; it was Tyler standing up and looking at everybody. "Alright folks, today's the day we get some tornados!" The table cheered quietly in knowledge of others in the little diner trying to enjoy a meal. "And don't forget our safety rules." Tyler mentioned your name at the end, making sure it kept snug in your memory forever.

You just gave Tyler a nod in return, a little embarrassed since Tyler had obviously told the crew on how you got when too in the moment and excited. Taking one last sip of your water before heading out to the truck and the rest of the vehicles. Taking one of the monitors, you began to calibrate and made sure it was ready for whatever was ahead for today. 

"So you ready to join in the fun and chaos?" Looking over to see Boone approaching with the camera in hand. You'd always liked Boone; his humor was quite enjoyable, and he always made sure to capture the good moments for the viewers to see, but then he also knew what not to show. "Yeah, I am really pumped and ready." Not really having enough words to express, you just kept your response short. 

"It'll be fun, I promise, and the viewers always love new people who join. Perhaps you'll be the new star." He lets out a chuckle from his comment. Within seconds, Tyler appears, "New star? already plannin' for their future boone?" Placing his hands on his hips, his arm muscles clearly showing through the sleeves of his shirt. You'd admit to yourself only that he definitely was good-looking. "Yep, you know me gotta’ plan for everything. I know a star when I see one."

You felt very welcome by everybody and already felt like a star. Perhaps they were just boosting your confidence, but you enjoyed every part. recalling how you told your parents you joined the tornado wranglers with a big smile across your face and your parents held concerned looks. 

"No need to boost me that high, Boone; nobody really knows me, and they'll have to get to know me first before they decide if they even like me." Your parents always taught you growing up that it takes a while for people to get used to someone new, especially if it's something big.

Tyler let out a huff with a smile before turning his head toward you. "Nah, if I like you and the rest does, then they'll like you back. Don't doubt anything." You let out a laugh before speaking up. "Unless they see me do something stupid." Having moments in the past where you almost set off the fireworks in his truck when he showed you them for the first time or accidently set up the monitor the wrong way, causing it to freeze for a whole hour.

"We all do stupid stuff on streams, like one time i-" Boone began to speak once before Tyler cut him off. "Yeah, don't even continue on that." shrugging it off before nodding, you walked away to get more things needed for this chase. Carefully packing it up in the van and truck, making sure each is tucked away safe and not able to fling around from harsh turns that will come up sooner than later.

It was finally time to get out and start driving. Sitting in the back of the truck with all the equipment that you use to track the weather and tornado levels. "Hey, can you hand me the light for the camera back there? I forgot to replace this one," Boone asked. You just gave a smile in return before your arm moved in front of you, handing him the light, just before you could move. Tyler's hand landed on your wrist tightly, startling you in the process.  

Eyes slowly looking down to see why you realized your hand was close to setting off the fireworks almost once again. Quickly handing the light and bringing your arm back to you, "Sorry, I didn't realize." A wave of embarrassment rushes to you, wanting to sink into the seat and disappear. "It's fine. Just be careful this time. Okay,  we don't have a lot of fireworks on hand this time." He began to drive, his face stern before going to excitement for the camera.

His reaction scared you, thinking quickly that he was upset at you and annoyed. But he wasn't; he was just nervous having you on this chase, knowing how you get, and afraid of you doing anything stupid you'd regret. Slowly looking back at the monitor to show the camera and explaining who you were as well as what's on the screen.

Within minutes, there were so far three tornadoes; they were tiny and didn't really do damage, but I made sure to document them for future reference and further study. "So far, guys, we are getting good results, and you are all seeing this live!" Tyler yelled out loud to boost the viewers and likes. As you wrote down more, trying to make the handwriting more clear than messy, when in a moving car you take notice, Boone asked you a question.

"So why don't you tell them what you're doing as we drive down a boring road?" pointing the camera back at you once more. Blushing a little knowing millions were watching live at this very moment made you hesitate before speaking up. "Well, I work for a weather company, not a big one, but I'm getting every bit of data and tracking info I can get on each tornado that forms or tries to form basically so we can use it whenever something like this happens again, which it will." 

"See guys, they are also smart, so Tyler did good letting them join." Slowly turning the camera back to Tyler and letting you do whatever you needed to do. Enjoying the moment and everything, but your eyes missed the monitor at the moment you were writing. Showing high data of something big and dangerous, then it turned off with no signal shown on the screen.

"That's weird." You picked up the monitor to fix it, but nothing would work. The only thing it would do was turn off, and on displaying the "no signal," it was odd for you at least. "What's the matter?" Tyler spoke, taking a quick glance back to look at you. Glancing up at him before shaking the monitor, "It's not working anymore; it says the signal is lost. I can't see anything at all." 

Just as you tried shaking it, trying anything possible to work, the sky got darker, almost as if it were night. "Are you seeing this or?" Boone spoke up, breaking the silence in the truck, his hands holding the camera tightly. A crackle sound came from the radio that sat on the dashboard. Dani spoke up. "Guys, im saying this now we have to get to safety, um, it appears its going to be a big one."

Suddenly, Tyler hits the gas hard, sending you to fly back into the seat with a huff, the air pushing out harshly. Boone just cheers at the fast driving, while you were silently begging in your head for it to quickly come to an end. 

A small town in the distance appears almost quickly as Tyler continues to speed, the rest of the crew following behind. As Tyler slams on the breaks once again, you fly forward, but the thanks of seatbelts, it was cut. basically choking you, and the only time you were glad about choking.

Just as everyone got out, the wind speeds picked up quickly, chairs blowing away, leafs flying everywhere, and people running to safety. Just as you and the rest began to run to the basement of a store, your eye caught a glimpse of a tiny cat. 

Standing still and looking to the basement entrance and back to the cat, you take a step before a strong hand grips onto you. Looking back to be met with Tyler, "What on earth are you doing?! Do you realize you need to get to safety right now? Even I know that better than half of these people who are just running around!" His face looked harsh and desperate.

"I have too. There's a cat, and I'm not letting it fly up in the air, and if I let that happen, I'd cry forever." Losing your grip, you ran to the cat that stood still in fear; its tail stood straight. Tyler watched you as every second passed, a little annoyed, but he never took his eye off you. Within seconds, the wind picked up, and with the cat in your arms, you struggled to walk. Taking action, Tyler ran to you, and before you could speak, he picked you up tightly and back to the basement of the store.

Tyler put you down carefully and looked at you strongly. "That was a dumb move, and never do that unless you say something before. You can't die on your first day; I won't allow that." A breath of relief left him as he glimpsed down at the poor cat that still shook in fear.

"How about in three days then?" You asked with a smile, your hand slowly petting the cat to comfort it to the best of your ability. "I'll have to see." Just then the power went out, harsh winds

were heard loudly, and the cries of children filled the room, but Barely heard. Out of instinct, Tyler takes you into his grasp, holding you close to him. perhaps to comfort you or himself?

Just as your head turned to meet his, barely making it out with only a tiny emergency light lit the room. It felt as if the wind stopped and nobody was there but the both of you. Tyler leaned in first before his lips met yours in a heated kiss. It only lasted a second before the cat shook more as the emergency light began to flicker.

The tornado and storm lasted two hours before it was alright to get out. Trees everywhere, some stores destroyed, and cars, including Toyota's trusted truck. It was sad to look around as police and paramedics showed up to check up on everyone. You gave the cat to one of them to fully check on the cat."I wanted to apologize for acting harsh at the start of today and a few hours ago." 

"It's alright, Tyler; you just were used to everyone knowing how to do things normally and knowing to get to safety quickly." Stepping closer to him with a soft smile. "You didn't realize is my guess?" he suddenly spoke, which confused you. "realize what?" shaking his head with a sigh, he spoke again. "The tornado was like right there when you ran out to get the cat. That's why I was basically screaming at you."

“Oh.”

[hellfire-state-of-mind]

it’s hell on earth to be heavenly

pairing: security guard!Frankie x band leader!fem!reader

rating: E for Explicit

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ content, reader has no physical description besides female anatomy and clothing, Frankie is able to lift reader, aggressive music festival crowds, mental health scare, Frankie is our pussy eating king, unprotected piv sex, creampie

a/n: my contribution to the Summer Lovin' challenge hosted by @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery, and @amanitacowboy!! i'm so excited to share this one, the story came to me immediately when i got the moodboard. i'm a huge concert girlie so i may have nerded out just a bit 😅 anyway, happy Frankie Friday, enjoy some filth 😘

You knew your lives were about to change the moment the festival was confirmed. You just weren’t prepared for how much.

The band had solidified by the end of your first year of college. You met Madison, the bassist, in your orientation group the week before classes began. She learned how to play in high school out of spite when an ex-boyfriend made a comment about how “girl bassists aren’t real” – her major was in English Lit. Tyler, the rhythm guitarist, was your biology lab partner in the second semester. He was a couple years older, already in his third year and still undecided on his major but like any other former teenage wannabe-fuckboi, he only learned how to play guitar as a party trick to pick up girls. Over Spring Break, he threw a party at the apartment he shared with his sister, Kate, who’d decided not to take the college route despite being the same age as you and Madison. You learned that she was on the drumline in her high school’s marching band, so you didn’t hesitate to snatch her up and round out the group as your drummer.

You had a bit more classical background. Your mom had put you in piano lessons almost as soon as you were tall enough to reach the keys. She tacked on voice lessons when you were in middle school. By the time you were 12, you had your heart set on being a composer and performing at concert halls around the country. Your uncle was the one to teach you how to play guitar; he had a side gig at a local sports bar playing crowd-requested covers and pulled some strings to book the restaurant for your 16th birthday. You were mesmerized by the way everyone would join in and sing along, would-be strangers bound by nothing but an invisible string of words and chords. You ached to know that feeling and suddenly your path was even clearer than before.

The four of you hadn’t intended to form a band. Your bond as friends came first, the music just came from goofing off at a frat party and earning some cheers from drunk bystanders. From there, you did campus events and open-mic nights at dive bars, all just for fun and a little extra pocket money. You even played a wedding for your roommate’s cousin. Your first original song was a by-product of a final poetry assignment for one of Madison’s classes. The four of you recorded yourselves, put it up on YouTube, and it went viral within 24 hours. So you spent that summer just writing music. Pooling together your money allowed you to rent out the campus music department’s recording studio and your first EP was born.

That’s also where you met Frankie.

He had just taken a job as overnight campus security, and it was his first graveyard shift. It had been expectedly uneventful, sweeping through each building and making sure they were empty. Until one wasn’t as empty as it was supposed to be.

He saw the light at the end of the hallway and his Army training kicked in. Soft, slow steps carried him to the occupied practice room. There you sat at the piano, plunking out experimental chords and scratching out notations on the sheet music in front of you. You were so focused that you didn’t even hear the very audible creak of the door as Frankie pushed his way in. He waited a moment for you to respond, assuming he had just caught you mid-thought but when you still didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat a bit more aggressively than he intended. “Excuse me.”

You jumped and swiveled around the bench. Your eyes were wide and tinged red with fatigue. You’d been there for hours, insistent on getting the song right.

“Miss, this building is closed.”

You blinked, digesting his words. “Right. Sorry, um,” you squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled at the sting of their dryness, “what time is it?”

“Nearly 1am.” Frankie softened, sure you weren’t any threat, but still maintained his authoritative stance. “You’re not supposed to be here. Could I see some ID?”

After digging through your bag and showing him your driver’s license and student badge, the situation cleared itself up pretty quickly. You’d explained what you were doing there and even showed him the official email from the department head giving your band permission to access the building over the summer. This sparked Frankie’s interest and the two of you probably would’ve spent hours talking if it hadn’t already been so late.

Despite your band’s clear potential, you all agreed to finish out your degrees before pursuing the industry for real. While you were afraid of missing your opportunity, having achieved such a bright spotlight so early on, a part of you was grateful. For time. For structure. For Frankie.

The two of you grew close over those last three years of your undergrad. You exchanged numbers with the veiled excuse of being able to contact him if you needed to get in or out of a building late at night. This eventually became if you needed him for anything. And one night at the end of senior year, you needed him bad.

The university had a tradition of throwing an exclusive off-campus party for the seniors the night after final grades were due. Being the only two band members in school, it was just you and Madison. Classic story, she was invited out afterwards by a bunch of other English majors, leaving you with no ride. So you called Frankie, and he pulled up in the parking lot within minutes. Fueled by the sadness of leaving him behind post-graduation and a little bit of alcohol, you seized your moment as soon as he parked behind your dorm building. The two of you showed just how badly you were going to miss each other in the back of his pickup.

--

You’re pulled from your memories by the hotel room door opening. Madison and Kate come spilling in, all dressed for the festival. Kate bangs on the adjoining room door, signaling Tyler to come over, and flops onto the bed opposite from Madison. You do one last look over your hair and makeup and emerge from the bathroom to get dressed.

Madison ooh’s in admiration while Kate whistles. “Okay, baddie.”

You roll your eyes and start to strip. Your concert outfit is laid out across the armchair by the window. “Do you guys wanna go over the set one last time?”

“Yeah, as soon as Tyler gets his ass over here!” Kate raises her voice to be heard in the room next door.

“Is everyone decent?” Tyler’s muffled voice comes from behind the door just as you finish buttoning your jeans.

“Yeah,” you yell back and bunch up your top, pulling it over your head as the door opens. You adjust the hem of the cropped tank and sit on the armrest, and the final band meeting is in session.

Right on time 20 minutes later, there’s another knock on the door. Being the closest, Madison hops up to open it and returns with Frankie in tow. “Y’all ready?”

The four of you share nervous and excited glances and you turn to him. “Fuck yeah.”

You and Frankie had kept in close contact after the band moved to LA in pursuit of a record label. He became your security detail shortly after your first tour as an opening act two years ago, fitting into the position perfectly with his military background. You’ve never run into any real issues, still being a relatively obscure group, but you were certainly on the rise.

This music festival was proof. The first single from your second album had just dropped when you got the call: opening the third largest stage on the first day of the event. You were billed third on the promotional fliers. For a band so comparatively unknown, this opportunity would either make or break you.

Frankie drops you off backstage for soundcheck exactly on time. You’re all immediately swarmed by operators and technicians and Frankie disappears off to the sidelines. He listens intently as you all tune your instruments and warm up your fingers and voices. He even catches himself humming along as you play bits and pieces of your setlist to confirm everything is in order.

Frankie’s attention is yanked away by the growing sound of the crowd in front of the stage. The four of you catch on to it as well, Madison and Tyler giddy with excitement and Kate twirling her drumsticks to ground herself. Frankie watches as you fiddle with your hair for the hundredth time, tapping your guitar pick against your thigh. Squeezed perfectly into those jeans you know he loves. Cupping the roundness of your ass just right. The hem of your tank top ends just high enough to give a peek at your midsection that he knows will be on full display once you settle into yourself and start jumping around the stage.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you’re right in front of him. You laugh when he still gets flustered at being caught, despite being a confirmed couple ever since he joined your team. You hook your fingers into his belt loops and tug him closer, careful to maneuver around the instrument strung across your front.

Frankie tucks a stray hair behind your ear, brushing your cheek with his knuckle as he does. “You ready, rockstar?”

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

On cue, a voice crackles in your in-ear monitor calling everyone to places. Frankie cups your face, pulling you in for a confident kiss. You flash him a wink as you pull away and line up to climb the stage.

Frankie finds a vantage point off to the side of the crowd, their cries echoing across the fairgrounds as you strike the first chords. He knows your pattern: you’ll linger behind the mic stand for the first song and a half or so, only venturing out to interact with Madison and Tyler during the instrumental breaks. Finally, you’ll walk out to the edge of the stage, playing directly to the fans but just out of their reach. By the third song, you’ve got the microphone in your hand and you’re frolicking around the stage unburdened.

He holds his breath as you approach one particular guitar solo that challenges your playing ability, then cheers along as you nail it with a dazzling smile, the crowd going wild at your fingertips.

The air is hazy with smoke as your set comes to a close, both from the festivalgoers and the machines blowing onto the stage. Tyler, Madison, and Kate play an extended outro of your last song as you address the crowd, thanking them for watching and introducing the band one last time before ending with a final flourish of chords and drumrolls. Frankie makes his way backstage once more as you take your bows, picking up your setlists taped to the stage and tossing them into the crowd as souvenirs. He watches the other three descend the stairs as you blow one last kiss to the fans and follow behind. The area springs to life as the workers hustle to prepare for the next band. Once unburdened from your instruments and in-ear monitors, the four of you flock to Frankie, as practiced. You surge ahead slightly faster than the others to fling your arms around his neck and plant an ecstatic kiss on his cheek, right in the bare patch of his beard, breathing him in as you ride your high from performing. Frankie sets you down and shares a smile and laugh before switching back to business and the five of you come up with a gameplan for the rest of the day.

Everything goes smoothly right up until the end. You all stick together for the most part, migrating to different stages together but not too worried about being attached at the hip. Unlike you and Frankie. You know he prefers to linger behind where he can see everyone and you have no problem staying with him. Every once in a while, people will recognize you and get a group photo.

Frankie should’ve never let you go off alone. He got complacent. Sloppy. Even though you weren’t entirely alone, Kate and Madison accompanying you to the bar booth, Frankie can’t help but feel like he failed you.

He thought he had you in view enough. He and Tyler were talking but it shouldn’t have been enough to pull his attention completely. It’s only when Kate’s yell breaks through the back of the crowd in front of them that they realize the situation. The two of them launch forward, Tyler throwing his arm around his sister and Frankie shouldering through the mass of people, his deep voice and broad stature parting the way.

He finds you towards the center. The three of you had been on the way back with your drinks when a group of overly excited and intoxicated fans crowded you. Their volume attracted the attention of other attendees around and pulled them in, everyone suddenly scrambling for pictures and autographs. Being the lead guitarist and vocalist, you were slammed with the brunt of the energy, Madison losing her grip on your arm and Kate being pushed out to the back entirely, where she managed to call Tyler and Frankie.

When he finally reaches you, Frankie doesn’t hesitate to throw his arm around you and secure you against his body, shielding you from any more prying fingers. He quickly scans and spots Madison not far off, veering to her rescue as well. He tucks her under his other arm and rushes back towards Tyler and Kate. Frankie passes Madison off to them as he feels you slipping from his grasp and fully lifts you into his arms, ensuring no one can take you from him. You just bury your face in his neck, gripping his black t-shirt for dear life, and let him carry you away.

Festival security arrives as your group emerges from the crowd and escorts all of you to the security tent. You detach from Frankie briefly so that the on-site medic can check for injuries, but you resume your position in his lap as soon as you’re given the all-clear.

The drive back to the hotel is a blur. You know Tyler takes over as driver so that Frankie can sit with you. He holds your hand the entire way up to your rooms and only lets go to unlock the door to yours. Kate, Madison, and Tyler collectively decide to hide out in the adjoining room to give you time to recover.

You feel yourself coming down from the adrenaline, the chaos starting to settle in your mind. You go through the motions of your post-show ritual. Take your clothes off. Gather your pajamas. Pull your hair back. Take your makeup off. Shower. Bedtime.

Frankie monitors from the corner by the door, watching with a tightly creased brow that he’s definitely going to get a headache from later. You don’t acknowledge him as you move around the room on autopilot. He does his best to stay out of sight of the bathroom mirror as you scrub your makeup off with a wipe.

You open your eyes as Frankie slips back around the corner, caught in the reflection. “I can still see you, you know?” you mutter. You toss the makeup wipe in the trash and splash some water on your face.

You hear him sigh as he gingerly steps back into view, staying half hidden by the edge of the mirror. His eyes are full of guilt and concern, and you feel bad for snapping at him. “I know.” He leans against the wall, face angled down and away from you as he takes off his trademark cap, runs his fingers through his curls, and replaces the cap on his head. “I don’t mean to hover, I know you need your space. I just…” He pauses to take a shaky breath. “What happened was really scary. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You massage your face wash into your skin as you listen, letting it set for a minute before rinsing it off. “I’m fine. Promise.”

It all happens so fast. You hear the girls gasp, not unlike others had throughout the day. You’re more than happy to interact with them, just grateful to even be at the festival and be recognized by fans in the first place. Their squeals grate your ears as more people gather around. You’re suddenly blinded by a phone flashlight being shoved in your face and Madison’s hand leaves your elbow, her fingernails scratching slightly as she tries to hold on. You can hear her calling your name and Kate’s as the three of you are separated by pressing bodies. The roar is suffocating as you’re bombarded with phones and pens and papers and hands everywhere, screams everywhere, you can’t see, you can’t hear, you can't –

“Hey.” Frankie’s voice snaps you back into your body as you stare back at your reflection, tight and sticky as your face wash dries. You sniffle, shaking your head a little to loosen the memory’s grip, and bend down into the sink to rinse your face.

“I gotta shower, Frankie.” You turn and twist the knob in the shower, holding a hand under the spray until it reaches your preferred temperature. When you move to close the door and undress, Frankie is still there watching. Not just watching – observing. Taking in every minute detail and analyzing to determine the best approach. You start to slowly push the door closed, never breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. Just before the wood makes contact with his foot in the doorway, Frankie nods.

“Call if you need anything.” He disappears around the corner, and you hear his tired grunt as he sits in the armchair.

You try not to think. Try to focus on the steps. Shampoo. Lather. Rinse. Conditioner. Rinse. Feel the scratch of the washcloth on your skin. The burn of the hot water as it washes away any evidence of the madness.

But then it’s too hot, like the air as they all crushed you. It’s too scratchy, like their fingernails as they all tried to tear away pieces of you to keep as souvenirs. You’re blinded by soap in your eyes and you see spots that look too much like the endless sea of faces. You can’t see, you can’t breathe, and all you want is Frankie. Frankie can help. Frankie will save you.

Strong arms wrap around you and you snap, pushing and screaming and clawing to get away. You’re lifted out of the shower and collapse onto the cold tile, a familiar body under you.

“Alright, baby, I got you. It’s okay, just let it out.”

You let out a final cry of defeat and go limp in Frankie’s arms, letting him fill your senses. His smell, dirt and sweat and smoke with a hint of his cologne still underneath. His lips in your hair, the scratch of his beard against your temple. His chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he holds you in his lap, a warm hand encompassing your thigh and the other tracing feather-light circles on your bicep.

“How did you know?” you manage to choke out in between gasps, fighting to fill your lungs.

“You called me.”

“I did?”

Frankie just nods and sits with you in silence, the static of the running water underscoring the stillness. He doesn’t care that his clothes are now soaked from plucking you straight from the shower. He didn’t think when he heard your choking, he just acted. Like he should’ve done before.

You’re starting to regain control over your breathing when you feel Frankie’s chest stutter. You look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaking his face.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching up to swipe them away. “I’m okay, Frankie. I’m okay now. You’re here-”

“But I wasn’t then.” He fights to keep his voice level as his heart threatens to force its way up his throat. “I was supposed to protect you and I didn’t- I-I couldn’t-”

You trace his lips with your fingertips, interrupting his words as you calm him with a hush. “This was not your fault, Frankie. It all just happened so fast, it could’ve happened to anyone.”

“But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to you.” Frankie’s voice has an edge to it now. Angry. “I failed you.”

You twist in his arms, moving to straddle his thighs. Cupping his jaw with both hands, forcing him to look at you, “You have never failed me.” Then, you press your lips to his and it feels like your first breath of fresh air through the smoke.

Frankie reacts immediately. His lips move against yours, hungry, as his hands pull you closer. He needs to know you’re there in his arms and no one will ever rip you away from him.

A shiver runs down your spine and you’re not sure if it’s the contrast of his heat and the cold bathroom floor, or the way his tongue expertly works its way into your mouth, exploring and claiming. You grind down against his hardening length and he detaches your lips, arms tightening to support you.

Frankie shifts and rises from the floor, never once letting you out of his grip as he moves into the bedroom. He groans as you nip at his neck, crawling up the bed with you clinging to his front.

You feel the cool sheets press against your damp bare back and you gasp. Frankie immediately flips the two of you over so you’re on top. His eyes are wild, scanning your face for any hint of distress. You nod, letting him know you’re okay, and slowly slip his cap off his head, dropping it to the floor and clutching fistfuls of his curls with both hands. Frankie moans in relief and turns his head to pepper your inner forearm with kisses.

His mouth works up your arm to your shoulder, across your collarbone. He pauses to nip at your pulse point and fill his lungs with your fresh scent and you rake your nails down his neck to his chest, then his belly. You tug his t-shirt up, forcing him to break contact to pull it over his head.

As soon as it’s off, Frankie scoots forward slightly down the bed and lays back, his curls splayed out on the pillow as he shifts into position. Once settled, he cups the backs of your thighs, nudging you forward. He turns his head to nip at your soft skin as you nestle your knees on the pillow, caging his head between them.

He gazes up at you, a haze growing in his eyes. Stroking your leg with one hand, he traces his fingers up the other before reaching your dripping center. He cups your core in his palm, heat surging through your veins, then travels down. Fingers forming a V, he spreads your lips and a growl vibrates through his body, resonating through you as well.

Your head falls back with a moan and you grip the headboard with both hands. “Fuck, please, Frankie.”

He continues tracing your folds with his calloused fingertips, catching at your leaking entrance. “Please what, baby?”

 You look down to see him staring up at you, pupils blown with desire. “Taste me.”

The hand on your thigh slides up to your hip and Frankie practically shoves you down onto his eager mouth. Your head falls back once more and you lace your fingers through his hair, your other hand still gripping the headboard for dear life.

Frankie’s thumb plays with your clit with practiced precision as his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. You lose yourself in the sensation of his digit applying just the right amount of pressure while he eats away at you like it’s his last meal, the scratch of his beard as his jaw works supplying extra friction against your thighs.

You gasp when Frankie finally plunges his tongue into your hole, twisting and sucking down your sweet juices. You can’t help but move your hips in tandem with his strokes and your moans rise in pitch whenever the tip of his nose brushes your bundle of nerves. Frankie removes his thumb, cupping your cheeks with both hands and pulling them apart. You bite back a squeal as his tongue ventures back to your asshole and prods at the tight ring.

He retreats before exploring any further, thirsty again for your arousal. You’re fully riding his tongue as your pleasure reaches its peak. You look down at him between your thighs and find his eyes wide open, drinking in your euphoria, like he’s intent on never letting you out of his sight again. His piercing stare is enough to send you over the edge and you lose your grip on the headboard. Searching blindly for a hold as your back arches, Frankie reaches for your arm, fingers wrapping around your elbow and holding you down on his face. His groans ripple through you, prolonging your high, as his hips rut up into the air, begging for relief.

Frankie releases you as you come down from your orgasm, immediately sliding down his body, placing kisses along his skin until you reach his jeans. Your hands shake as you rush to unbutton them and pull down the zipper. He lifts and shimmies his hips to help you yank them down his thighs, flinging them behind you without looking.

You lean forward to kiss along the waistband of his boxers, licking and nipping at the skin and nuzzling your nose in the coarse hairs trailing below the undergarment. Frankie’s hips buck and he almost whines as he grabs at you. You finally free his cock from the tightening fabric, mouth watering as if in a Pavlovian response. He’s thick and heavy, twitching from the lack of contact. You move to take his leaking head into your mouth as he took you into his, but Frankie’s hands are too fast, too desperate.

He sits up and positions you above his lap, fingers massaging your hips as you grind your still dripping pussy along his length. “So wet for me, baby. I need to be inside you. Please,” he pants in your ear. He’s been apart from you for too long already. He needs to be close, as close as possible.

You nod and breathe out an “okay” and Frankie shifts up the bed to rest his back against the headboard. You lift up and reach behind you to grip his cock, taking a moment to massage his balls. Frankie lets out a strained moan and you guide him inside you, sinking down onto him.

You breathe deep and controlled as his tip parts your walls, practically sucking him in. You pause when your pelvises meet, his hair tickling your clit deliciously. He’s buried deep in your cunt, perfectly molded around him, warm and wet. Frankie mouths at your neck, leaving his mark, and massages your breasts with both hands as he gives you time to adjust. He rolls your nipples in his fingers and you clench around him, signaling that you’re ready.

You start slow, rocking your hips against his and feeling his tip nudge that perfect spot inside you. You start a slow pace, rising off his cock and dropping down. Inch by inch until only his tip is inside, then you speed up. Before long, you’re bouncing in Frankie’s lap with his hands on your hips guiding you. He loves to watch the way your tits move with each impact. Hypnotized, he leans forward and captures a nipple in his mouth, circling it with his tongue. You cry out unrestrained as he lightly bites down and your second orgasm of the night washes over you.

Frankie detaches when he feels your walls clamp down on him. He leans back and bends his knees, planting his feet on the bed. Grasping your arms as he did earlier, he braces you and begins thrusting at a fierce pace. You cry out again as his hips slam up into you, the clapping of skin on skin and his throaty groans filling the room.

You know he’s getting close by the way the veins in his neck pop with exertion. Frankie sucks air in through his teeth and drops one hand down to your clit, your freed hand flying down to latch onto his meaty stomach. Frankie chokes out a moan at the prick of your fingernails. “Come on. Come on, baby. One more. You can do it, give me one more.”

You mindlessly chant prayers of “yes” and “please” at the altar of his hips as you gush around him, soaking his cock and leaking out across his thighs and onto the bed.

“That’s it. Good fucking girl. That- fuck, that’s-” A subdued roar erupts from Frankie’s chest as he pulses inside you, coating your greedy walls with rope after rope of cum. The sensation triggers you to squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s worth.

Frankie sits up and slides his hands up your back, gripping your shoulders from behind and locking you onto him. You seal your lips on his as your shared aftershocks subside.

Still holding you to him, Frankie leans back to rest against the headboard. He rubs your back with his palm as you both breathe heavily, heartbeats syncing and slowing.

“Frankie?” You murmur against his chest, peeking up through fluttering, sated eyelids. He looks down at you, humming in acknowledgement. “Tonight was not your fault.”

Frankie breaks eye contact, sighing and staring out at the hotel room. You reach up and pull his face back down to you.

“Don’t run away from me. Look at me.” You kiss him deeply again, then whisper against his lips. “I love you. I trust you. I-”

“I got you.”

You laugh softly. “You got me. But I got you too.”

The two of you stay curled into each other for a while. You’re just about to drift off when a knock on the adjoining room door startles you awake.

Frankie feels you jerk and squeezes his arms around you. “Yeah?” he calls.

Kate responds from the other side. “Hate to interrupt you guys but…can Mads and I just come grab our stuff real quick and we can camp out over here tonight?”

You bury your face in Frankie’s chest, still plugged with his cock and his cum, and chuckle. You move to get up and make yourself decent but Frankie keeps holding you. Raising an eyebrow at him, he flashes a mischievous smirk, untucks the sheets with one hand, and covers the two of you with a flourish.

“Make it quick!”

Kate and Madison fly through the room, grabbing their clothes and toiletries while dramatically shielding their eyes from you and Frankie. You can’t help but giggle against Frankie’s skin as you listen to their flurry of activity. Finally, you hear one of them exit the room and Kate calls from the bathroom.

“You guys know you left the shower running?”

[oldiesstationlover11607]

hihiiii tis i the one and only soupiie!!

okay, i LOVED that domestic tyler fic with the xmas livestream and was wondering if you'd make fluffy josh x reader where she's seen by fans at a concert and take pics with them and then while josh is running to his b stage drumkit, he kisses her and the fans take pics. then maybe after the concert some fluff with josh and tyler.

love love loooveee your writing, please never stop, its one of the few things keeping me sane rn 🧡🧡🧡

Barrier Kisses - Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Nothing hehe

Word Count: 1087

A/N: RAHH LOVE THIS SO MUCH! Hello soupiiiie!! Thank you for requesting something! I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing. It's kinda hard to keep it up considering how my requests have been fewer and fewer but I'm trying :) Please request another piece!!

The energy in the arena was nothing short of magical. I could feel it in my chest, the heavy thrum of bass and the sea of voices singing along with Tyler as the show reached its halfway point. The Clancy Tour was in full swing, and the fans were louder than ever — their excitement so infectious, I found myself smiling without even realizing it.

I stood tucked off to the side of the stage, close enough to watch Josh's every move but far enough to stay out of the spotlight. Tyler was on the main stage, delivering one of his iconic speeches, hyping the crowd up before Routines in the Night. Meanwhile, Josh was preparing for his run to the B-stage, ready for the song to start while Tyler stood under the stage with Mark.

I couldn’t help but feel a little thrill every time I saw Josh on stage, the way his presence just filled the entire arena. It wasn’t just the drumming, though that was always mesmerizing — it was the way he connected with the fans, like each beat he hit meant something to them. And to me.

Lost in the moment, I barely noticed the small group of fans standing near the barrier who had spotted me. I wasn’t exactly trying to keep a low profile, but I didn’t expect them to recognize me. Their eyes went wide, and then one of the girls waved me over, excitement practically bursting from her.

“Are you Josh’s girlfriend?” she asked, voice high-pitched with nerves but sweet as ever.

I felt my face flush, but I smiled. “Yeah, I am.”

Immediately, phones were pulled out and I laughed softly, shaking my head. I wasn’t exactly used to the attention, but it was kind of cute how excited they were. They asked for a few pictures, and I couldn’t say no. The girls were so kind, gushing about how much they loved Josh, and it made me proud to know that he had fans like them.

“Can we get a picture with you?” another girl asked.

“Of course!” I agreed, stepping over closer to the barrier and posing with them.

We chatted a bit about the tour, their favorite songs, and how long they’d been following the band. I could tell how much the show meant to them, and it made my heart swell knowing Josh and Tyler could bring that kind of joy into people’s lives.

“Do you think we could get a picture of you and Josh?” one of them asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

I laughed, feeling my face heat up again. “I think he’s a little busy for that right now,” I said, glancing back toward the stage where Tyler was winding down his speech. Josh was waiting in the wings, just a few feet away, already prepared to make his sprint toward the B-stage.

Right on cue, the lights shifted, casting everything in deep reds and golds, the perfect backdrop for his run. I turned to see Josh glance over at me, that unmistakable smile on his face. My heart skipped a beat. It always did when he looked at me like that — like I was the only person in the room.

And then, without warning, he started jogging over.  The fans around us squealed in surprise, and my eyes widened as he came closer.

He didn’t stop running, just slowed enough to lean in and press a quick kiss to my lips. It was so fast but so sweet, leaving me blushing as the fans around us erupted into excited cheers.

The sound of phones clicking and capturing the moment filled the air, and I was half-laughing, half-shocked by how casual Josh had made it all seem. He just flashed me another grin and took off again, heading toward the B-stage to continue the show as if nothing had happened.

My heart raced as I turned back toward the fans, who were all wide-eyed and giggling, holding up their phones like trophies.

“Did you see that?” one of them gasped. “That was so cute!”

I just laughed, feeling giddy myself. “Yeah, he's… kind of perfect, huh?”

The rest of the concert felt like a blur. Every time Josh’s drum beats echoed through the arena, I could feel the memory of that quick kiss lingering in my mind. And from the way the fans nearby kept sneaking glances at me, I knew they'd be talking about it for weeks.

After the show, the backstage area was quieter, though still buzzing with the after-show energy that always seemed to linger. I made my way through the halls, weaving past crew members and friends until I found Josh in the green room, towel around his neck, sweat still glistening on his skin from the performance. Tyler was with him, lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“There she is!” Josh beamed, pushing off the arm of the couch to meet me halfway. He pulled me into a warm, post-show hug, the kind that always made me feel like home.

“You really kissed me in front of everyone?” I teased, poking him in the chest as I looked up at him, but I couldn’t hide the smile on my face.

Josh chuckled, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair from my face. “Couldn’t help it,” he said, eyes soft. “I saw you there, and I just… had to.”

Tyler snorted from the couch. “Real smooth, Josh.”

Josh rolled his eyes, still grinning. “You’re just jealous because Jenna’s not here tonight.”

Tyler held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I’m just saying — it was pretty bold, man. Risky move, but I respect it.”

I laughed, leaning into Josh’s side, his arm wrapping around me protectively. “Well, the fans loved it,” I said, thinking back to all the excited faces and cameras. “They were snapping pictures like crazy.”

Josh leaned down and kissed the top of my head, softer this time, a little more private. “Good,” he murmured. “Maybe I’ll make it a habit.”

Tyler groaned dramatically. “Please, spare us.”

Josh just grinned wider, pulling me closer as we all sank into the easy, comfortable feeling that came after a successful show. It was moments like this — the quiet in the storm, the laughter and love we shared — that made everything worth it.

And as I rested my head against Josh’s shoulder, I couldn’t help but think that this life, this wild, crazy life with him, was more than I could’ve ever dreamed of.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[wyattjohnston]

stay forever - jake debrusk

summary: the real reason jake was scratched against l.a. on october 21.

word count: 2.9k

note: have been absolutely fascinated by him pulling a tyler seguin for 9 months and started this fic back in october...

An emptiness overwhelmed Juliet’s house as it always did when her parents had returned back to Connecticut. It was a purchase she regularly regretted—three bedrooms more than one person needed and more living spaces than she could ever fill—but people had gotten to her with their constant comments about needing to grow up. Needing to prepare for a family.

She hoped that her future husband would appreciate its location on the Pacific Coast Highway because that wasn’t something she regretted.

For the time being, she owned a very unnecessarily large house which she only lived in part time when her filming schedule allowed. She spent a lot of time on her own waiting for company to arrive.

Juliet’s company for the evening was someone she didn’t see very often at all—mostly when he was in California for work, or when she visited her parents—but someone she always wanted to see more often than she could.

She sat down at her kitchen bar, a poorly made cocktail sitting in front of her, and her feet swinging around the base of the chair as she waited for Jake to arrive at her door. By the time the GPS tracker was outside her house, her drink was empty, and she was filled with nervous excitement. She waited by the intercom, no longer embarrassed to open the gate the second he pressed the buzzer, and then opened the front door to wait for him to walk up her driveway.

“That drive feels longer every time,” Juliet told him, reaching for his belt buckle as soon as he was in reach so that she could tug him closer until they were chest-to-chest.

With the door closed and the car disappearing out of the gate, he nodded, saying, “I think I learnt the entire history of the Pacific Coast Highway.”

“I can send a car to pick you up,” she reminded him as she did every time he was in California.

“But how would I know that The Beach Boys released a song about it in 2012? Or the Australian pop punk band who mentioned it in one of their songs? Or—”

“I get it,” Juliet cut him off, still leading him through the house with her hands on his belt. “You like facts about the Highway. Music about the Highway, specifically.”

Before he could get any more words out, Juliet pressed her mouth to his, still keeping him close with her hands on his belt.

They had the whole afternoon together—the whole night—which was a luxury that they were rarely afforded, and Juliet was overwhelmed by all the things they could do together. As was usually the case when near Jake, she never got any further than an arm’s length away.

The Pacific Ocean stretched out beyond Juliet’s balcony as they sat and watched the waves roll onto the shore beneath them. Being cuddled up under the warm afternoon sun was more than she could ask for. She fit so naturally in the space between Jake’s legs, her back pressed against his chest and his fingers hiding underneath the hem of her cropped shirt and across her rib cage.

There wasn’t much to talk about that they hadn’t already spoken about in their daily phone calls or their frequent texts, but the silence wasn’t so bad. Just being with each other, in each other’s space, pressed up against each other on her surprisingly comfortable outdoor couch was enough. Juliet caught him just smiling at her on more than one occasion. It was nice to just see him in person rather than on a phone screen.

The sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving behind the pink sky Juliet so adored about Malibu. She looked over her shoulder at Jake and melted into the instantaneous kiss.

“Do you want dinner? Abbey made you the chicken one you said you liked last time. The one that fit with your nutrition plan?”

Jake’s forehead came to rest against the back of hers. He asked, “You remembered that?”

“I wrote it down and you hadn’t said your plan had changed. I hoped.”

Her fingers started to tap against her ribs.

“God, I need her to be in Boston to be my chef.”

“I can ask her if she wants to,” Juliet said without hesitation.

“Do you come with her?” he asked, his mouth pressed against the back of Juliet’s neck. “Because the only person I want to move to Boston is you.”

Juliet hummed. She didn’t want to rehash the conversation they’d had all summer, not on their first night together since he left for training camp. She’d thought about moving back to New England, about being closer to her parents and her sister, about being closer to Jake. Her house might have been too large for just her, but it was a better alternative than uprooting herself for a relationship where they hadn’t even said they love each other after nearly twelve months.

Her sister’s commentary about them being unable to say the L word because they spent too much time apart always fell on deaf ears.

“Jake—Jake,” Juliet panicked, shaking his shoulder viciously. “Jake. Your alarm didn’t go off.”

He woke all at once, a violent flail sending his limbs in all directions as he sat up. His first instinct was to reach for his phone on the bedside table; his phone that wasn’t there.

Typically, on the rare occasions when they woke up in the same bed, Juliet was wrapped up in his arms before she’d even woken up and before either of them even thought about getting out of bed there was slow, lazy, but oh-so-good, morning sex and a healthy amount of cuddling.

That morning, though, she watched him launch out of bed so quickly he nearly tripped over the top sheet he didn’t take time to remove. She couldn’t fault him.

She tried not to follow him around the bedroom too closely as he dressed, nor throughout the rest of the house, but she found herself picking up things that fell out of his overnight bag and slotting them back in gingerly.

It was the lack of speaking that was the most unnerving. Jake wasn’t a typically angry person, in fact Juliet couldn’t recall a time where she’d seen him mad, but the heavy footsteps and the tension in everything he did made her hesitant to speak.

On the kitchen counter downstairs, next to an empty bottle of red, was Jake’s phone which he swiped off the counter with such fervour that it crashed to the floor, causing Juliet to recoil. Jake didn’t seem to notice.

Standing in just the shirt she’d managed to throw on, Juliet kept her distance as Jake scooped up his phone and ordered an Uber. If Juliet were to be petty, she’d have mentioned that if he’d let her organise a car then none of this would have happened. Except, she wasn’t petty, nor was she interested in stoking fires, so she stretched out the bottom of her shirt as she nervously wrung it through her hands.

The silence remained until Jake looked like he was readying to leave, standing up from where he’d been leaning across the island and texting furiously. He didn’t look away from the screen.

“I’ll see you after the game,” Juliet said, tentative to break the silence but not at all wanting to let him leave without saying anything at all.

Jake scoffed, “I’m not gonna play so don’t even bother.”

Juliet stepped towards him, the space reducing to only a couple of paces, reaching out to him with her eyebrows pulling together. She asked, soft, scared, “What? Why? Are you injured?”

“I’m late, Juliet,” he snapped, still not looking up from his phone. “They’re not gonna let me play.”

“Oh, well, I’ll still come,” Juliet said, harried. While she was relieved that he wasn’t keeping injuries from her, her brain was reeling to create a solution. “Maybe I can talk to somebody and tell them I had an emergency—”

“Don’t do that. Whatever you fucking do, do not do that.”

“Okay… I don’t have to do that.”

Jake used the buzzer to open the gate to let the Uber driver in and Juliet’s eyes began to well up with tears as she heard it get closer to the house. Their perfect night shattering before her eyes was creating a tightness in her chest she hadn’t felt in years.

She reached out to him, despite him being too far away, and asked, desperately, “I’ll see you after the game, though?”

“Sure, whatever you want, Juliet.”

“Jake.”

He didn’t respond, only pulled open the front door as the Uber stopped in front of it.

Juliet, panicked and incapable of thinking anything else, ran to him and gripped the loose sleeve of Jake’s hoodie and said, “I love you.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t so much as look at her before he shrugged her off, got into the Uber and closed the door, his phone immediately pressed to his ear.

It wasn’t the confession she’d imagined, that was for sure.

Juliet had considered cancelling her car and watching the game from her couch. Through the entire process of getting ready—which was getting longer and longer every day as the comments she was seeing got worse and worse with every second she aged—she stared at her phone for any sign of Jake. Whether he was going to beg her to show up or tell her to not come at all, she wanted something. She got nothing.

Sitting at her kitchen island, staring at the ugly painting her agent had bought her to congratulate her on an Oscar nomination the year prior, she didn’t think she’d ever felt more pathetic—and losing that Best Actress Oscar when it was universally agreed that she would win was the previous champion for that category.

With the car arriving shortly to pick her up, Juliet knew she had made an unconscious decision to go to the game. She had her jersey across her lap, the 74 hidden, and was the least excited she’d ever been for a hockey game.

As with every public appearance, Juliet made sure she was at least able to fake a smile before she got out of the car. Oliver, her driver, was her greatest confidant and the best secret keeper she knew. He’d seen her in some truly horrible states and, while it may have just been the ironclad NDA, not even her agent or PR manager had heard about the worst breakdowns. She was hugely grateful for him and the minor adjustments he suggested to make her seem realistically happy.

It was always a while before she was noticed at games; most people weren’t in the target demographic for her movies, and those that were weren’t expecting her to be there, so she was able to walk the concourse, get a beer and sit down before the whispers and photos started. She wasn’t hidden with centre-ice, bench-side seats and it was only a matter of time before the camera operators found her—she stood out enough being the only yellow jersey in a sea of black without being famous.

She shouldn’t have gone alone was her main takeaway before the first period even started. She’d never had the problem before, but never before had she felt a dull ache in her chest and never before had she so desperately wanted a buffer.

It wasn’t until the beginning of the second, when LA scored their first goal, that Juliet’s face was plastered across the screens. It was, at least, a good enough reason for being caught looking as miserable as she felt. She smiled, nonetheless, throwing her hands up into the air as if to ask what can you do and also to show everyone that she was wearing what she deemed to be the correct jersey. Even if they booed her for it.

The texts that started coming through weren’t a surprise. It wasn’t unheard of that someone she knew was also at the game, though they were much more likely to be rooting for the Kings and in a box where they wouldn’t be bothered.

Juliet made a point to not pull out her phone until intermission because too many people had opinions on her not paying attention when she was out anywhere, and she didn’t need to give them anymore ammo. So, she waited until she was standing in line for another beer before she pulled it out of her pocket. Most of the texts she ignored because they were from people she never really spoke to asking her to get drinks after the game, one was from her sister with a tweet mentioning her being at the game which she reacted to with a thumbs down, and, finally, one from Jake.

He had been scratched, just as he said he would be, and the text was almost definitely sent at the exact time she was shown on the screen.

Thanks for still coming. Will you hang around after?

She sent back a text and closed her phone, ready to order another beer and ignore her phone for the final period.

Do you want me to?

Yes. Course I do.

It was something. That’s what Juliet was forcing herself to think, anyway.

Juliet didn’t need much to get past security; not when someone had come for her. It meant that, despite Jake’s disinterest in her being there that morning he hadn’t gone to the trouble of calling off her escort.

Her way down to the locker rooms was filled with people stopping her for photos. It wasn’t like her to deny people, and she hadn’t any other time she’d been caught at a hockey game, but she had somewhere to be and when she didn’t know exactly what was waiting for her.

There was no Family Room for her to wait in, unless she wanted to crash the Kings’ room uninvited and face more questions than she’d already been hounded with that night, so she bravely stood in the hallway unaccompanied as she waited for the coach to address the team and for Jake to be free enough to come and meet her. The few very confused Kings staff and partners she passed were to be expected, at least.

Juliet was ready to open up her burner account and search her own name in Twitter—she was already in a bad enough mood that any comments she read about her cellulite or the confusion about her cellulite when she was allegedly too skinny after her last role couldn’t do any further damage—when the visitor’s locker room door opened with a groan. Jake had the decency to look sheepish, repentant, when he stepped out. He didn’t look at anybody but Juliet as he crossed the hall to meet her.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and shy. “For still coming. I don’t think I would have if I was you.”

“I nearly didn’t,” she admitted, trying to act cool when she knew that she could only look as desperate as she felt. “You really hurt me, Jake.”

“Yeah, I—I know, Juliet. I shouldn’t have taken any of that out on you.”

The door opened again, the agonising groan rattling whatever small amount of composure Juliet had been able to pull together, and she looked down at her feet.

Jake closed the gap between them, making room for the wave of people to exit the locker room, and Juliet put hand on his chest to steady herself at the unexpected movement—she hadn’t realised how good it would feel to touch him and felt herself lean ever closer.

“Do you have to stick around? Or can we go somewhere a little less noisy?”

“I have to get on the bus, Jules,” he said, his head lowering. He put his hand over hers on her chest to keep her close. “I want to go back to Malibu. I don’t want to sleep by myself in a hotel room when you’re in the same city…”

Juliet sighed. “But you had one chance.”

He started to look around and Juliet knew he was looking for somewhere more private for them. He opted for slightly around a corner, not quiet by any means but at least out of the thoroughfare. Juliet was long past being caught in a compromising position with anybody—and, truth be told, any positions she’d been caught in were hardly scandalous and all with serious partners—so she wasn’t worried about effectively being boxed in against the wall, with Jake leaning down to talk to her.

“God, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “None of it was your fault; you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I love you and I treated you like shit.”

She tilted her chin down and looked up at him sheepishly through her eyelashes as she asked, “You love me?”

Jake’s laugh was abrupt and aborted just as suddenly as it started, the realisation that it was not the right time was clear on his face. “Well, yeah. Yes, Juliet. I don’t think that should be the thing that gets me over the line, though.”

“I’m still really mad at you,” Juliet said, even as she slipped her arms around his waist. “But I think I’m just going to enjoy you while I have you.”

Juliet was delighted to share a photo sent to her by her sister of her and Jake leaving Honda Center hand-in-hand, mostly so she could caption it ���I want to be @/taylorswift when I grow up’.

She was even more delighted when less than ten minutes later she opened up Jake’s story to see that he’d reposted it with a caption that just said ‘same’.

[99hook]

Bestie you should write sneaky links to lover fic when you have the chances no rush like they have mutual friends like the lads (they are friends) and no one knows they hook up 👀👀

sneaky link to lovers is a new one, i like it. hope you love it babesss! 🫶🏼

It wasn’t necessarily the fact that you had to keep each other on the low, it was just so much easier that way. When nobody suspects a thing, then there’s nobody in your business.

On top of that, you and Tyler both liked having a secret that everyone was oblivious to. It made things a little more exciting than they already were, simply because of the lengths you both had to go to make sure things stay under lock and key.

That usually meant sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms late at night and sneaking back out before anyone has the chance to wake up and catch him or you leaving around five in the morning.

If you both disappear randomly for a while and get asked about it later, you always have an excuse ready. His is that he had an important call to make and yours is that one of your friends needed to talk to you about something.

It was kind of astonishing that you’ve gotten away with it for this long, but it was evident that your friends were starting to get a little suspicious.

You walked out of Tyler’s dressing room after you recollected yourself. Your hair was a mess but you thought you fixed it enough.

Anthony was rounding the corner just as you closed the door behind you, stopping in his tracks when he caught you. You felt your cheeks burning, sure that they were definitely fusing red but you tried to force it back before he picked up on it.

“Hey” He says rather slowly, the skepticism clear as day in his tone.

“Hey” You tried to sound as casual as possible, even though you were still a little out of breath from what went down only minutes prior.

He eyed you as you stepped away from the door. Your cheeks being bright red and hair not as tamed as it usually was. Not to mention the splotchy redness on the side of your neck that your hair wasn’t covering as well as you thought.

A slight smirk formed on his lips and before you were able to conjure up something to say, the door opened and Tyler stepped out with his hair wilder than usual and flushed cheeks to match.

His eyes locked on Anthony immediately but he was way too good at being cool about the whole thing. He nodded towards his friend as he closed the door behind him.

“What’s up?” He casually asks like he wasn’t a number one suspect in Anthony’s newfound suspicion.

“Just coming to see if you’re ready to go.” Anthony says, eyeing you after. “What uh… What have you two been up to?”

Tyler knew that he was insinuating something but he didn’t let that phase him. He shrugged coolly and looked over at you before looking back at him.

“Chillin” he says before he starts walking down the hall.

Anthony sends you one more look filled with the upmost skepticism you think you’ve ever seen before he heads after Tyler, and you went the complete other direction.

———-

Later on that night, you were both laughing about the whole situation but trying your best to be quiet, cause Anthony’s room was on one side of Tyler’s and Darius was on the other.

“Maybe I should start requesting a room next to yours.” He smirks. “On a completely different floor.”

“That’ll be too obvious” You tell him. “Kinda hilarious how nobody suspects a thing. Except maybe Anthony.”

“He’s definitely onto us.” he says as he absentmindedly runs his fingers through your hair. “Didn’t stop asking me questions all day after we left.”

“Like what?” You perked up, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“All kinds of shit.” He runs his hand through his hair, pushing some back. “The main one being, how long have we been hooking up without anyone knowing.”

“And you said?”

“We’re not hooking up.” He chuckles. “Eventually I convinced him. At least, I think I did.”

“He caught me as soon as I walked out your dressing room today. I didn’t even realize it then, but my shirt was inside out.” You tell him, watching as he tries to stifle a laugh.

“He told me you looked a little… rough.” He smirks. “I told him you just got back from a workout and stopped by to give me my headphones back cause you forgot yours at the hotel.”

“Wow, good lie. I don’t know if I should be worried or not.” you chuckled, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“I don’t lie to you. Just for you.” He says before he places a kiss to your forehead.

“You think he bought it?” You asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe. If not, then I guess I won’t have to worry about keeping you quiet anymore.” He smirks before he pulls you up some, straddling his waist for the second time that night.

“Then we’ll really need a room on a different floor.” You chuckled before you placed a kiss to his lips.

————

“Maybe it’s just me, but Hook and y/n have been acting weird lately.” You both heard Darius’ voice reach you from where you stood a little ways down the hall.

This caught Tyler’s attention, his hands dropping from your hips so he can take his headphones out and hear a little better.

“It’s not just you. I think they got something going on they just don’t wanna tell us.” Anthony says back, and you watch as a smirk tips up on Tyler’s lips when he looks back at you.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Another voice chips in, and it takes a moment for it to register that it belongs to Max.

“Where are they now?” Darius asks.

“Probably locked in a room somewhere again.” Anthony chuckles.

“Again? What do you mean again?”

“She was walking out his dressing room the other day. He told me she was just returning some headphones but he was smiling the whole time he said it, so I’m pretty sure he was lying.”

You felt Tyler’s lips brush over your cheek before he headed around the corner, interrupting the conversation but playing it off like he had no idea what they were talking about. You stayed put and listened on, wondering if you should follow his lead or not.

“Hey Tyler.” You heard Anthony’s voice suddenly uplift, and it was kind of hilarious how quickly he shifted.

“Hey” Tyler says back, and it was almost as if you could feel the awkward tension from all the way down the hall.

“You seen y/n around anywhere?” Darius asks.

“Nah not today.” Tyler lies, meanwhile he just had his hands all over you. Another thing that was just hilarious to both of you.

The conversation died right after that. You could imagine the guys standing around awkwardly staring at each other cause they didn’t know what to say, if it didn’t pertain to you and Tyler and how you’d been acting strange lately, you assumed.

It was only seconds after that, that Anthony and Max both excused themselves saying they had to get ready for a match soon, and Darius made the excuse that he had a call to make.

A couple moments after that, Tyler rounded the corner again with a mischievous grin on his face.

“I have an idea.”

————

A couple days passed by, and once it seemed like the guys were no longer onto you and Tyler, that’s when it was time to put his plan into action.

He met up with them first, a scowl on his face like he was having the worst day of his entire life.

“Hey man” Anthony says when he walks up to him. “You good.”

Tyler kept a clenched jaw and didn’t speak back. He tightly nodded before he looked down at the floor, but that was until you walked up from the other direction and immediately stared the man down.

Anthony and Darius both picked up on the weird tensions immediately, their eyes glancing between both of you.

You were surprised by the fact that you weren’t even daring to smile, and Tyler was being pretty convincing himself.

“Uh… What happened?” Anthony asks, feeling like he was quite literally walking on eggshells.

You and Tyler only glared at each other before he was the first to break the eye contact, to look over at Anthony.

“Nothin.” He mutters before he briefly shoots you another piercing glance.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing?” Darius says, and you cross your arms as you kept your eyes trained on Tyler.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.” You shrugged, and watched as both of their eyes landed on him, waiting for an explanation evidently.

“Ask me what?” He spat, raising his voice at you.

“You know what, Tyler.” You challenged, narrowing your eyes at him, and of course he mirrored you.

“Woah, what the hell happened?” Anthony asks again, this time looking at you because he wasn’t convinced he’d get an answer from Tyler.

“Tyler’s just a fucking dick.” You gritted your teeth. “And I’m pretty sure he knows it.”

“I know there’s a lot of things you are and I’m not wasting my breath calling you any of them.” He crosses his arms, earning three sets of eyes to land on him.

“Go ahead.” You shrugged. “What am I, Tyler? Please tell me.” You took a step towards him for the dramatics of it all and he held himself where he stood, staring down at you with piercing eyes and slightly pursed lips.

“Okay, wait a minute you guys.” Anthony interjects when he feels the tensions rising. “We don’t have to fight like this. Someone just say what happened and we can talk through it. Okay?”

“Nah.” Tyler bitterly says. “Not even worth it bro.”

“Agreed.” You snap back. “I’m wasting my time even talking to you right now.”

Tyler’s head tilted back slightly, and you felt Anthony’s hand on your shoulder as he turned you to face away from the man he thought was making you so angry.

“Anyway” You sighed. “Anthony, Darius, don’t take this personal, but I’d rather be anywhere but here, so i’m gonna go.”

Darius and Anthony both watched you leave and picked up on the glares you and Tyler both shot at each other before you walked away.

It wasn’t too long after that, the door opened up and Tyler walked in with a wide grin plastered on his face.

You bursted into laughter when you saw how proud he looked, but covered your mouth immediately after, knowing plenty of people were wandering around the halls right outside that door.

“Think it worked?” You asked as you stood up and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.

“For now. Might have to put on a few more shows to really make them believe it.” He says before peppering a couple kisses to your neck, making you forget what you wanted to say.

“Did I ever tell you how hot you are when you’re mad at me?” He mutters against you, and you can feel him smirk right after.

“Mhm, a few times.” You say before he pulls back and looks down at you with that little half smirk you fell for a long time ago.

“Get used to it.” He says before he backs you against the door and locks it.

“Are you saying you’re gonna start trying to make me mad at you?” You quirked a brow, but smiled right after.

“Maybe, but I’ll always make up for it later.”

[steviewashere]

She Lives in My Dream State

Rating: General Pairings: Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Platonic Stancy, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson CWs: Mild Recreational Marijuana Use (More Implied/Referenced) Tags: Post-Canon, Vague Timeline, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Pining, Pre-Relationship, One-Sided Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Good Friend Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Vague Bisexual Awakening, Bisexual Steve Harrington (If you Squint), (He Hasn't Figured Out All His Feelings Yet for Eddie), Eventual Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Bittersweet, Hopeful Ending, Talking About Dreams This isn't my New Years fic, but I whipped this one out really fast tonight (because I'm pining over somebody I can't have, all that good stuff), so. I promise I've got a couple works that are coming out hopefully by the end of the week! I've just been very ill—woohoo!!! Title taken from Tyler, the Creator's "See You Again", the actual lyric is, "You live in my dream state."

🫂—————🫂 Steve and Nancy become close friends. Closer than most. Maybe not closer than he and Robin, but close enough. They're enough together. And Steve just has to take that.

He reasons that they'd be better friends or maybe even best friends had circumstances not have been. If Nancy was never his girlfriend and the Upside Down never happened and he was never bullshit. But. Well, you can only get so much out of people. And this is what he gets. An ex-girlfriend that still laughs at his jokes, but doesn't touch him the way it matters. An ex-girlfriend who's a friend, nothing more.

She moved to Boston, following her dreams like she always said she would. He believes in her, so he knew, of course, that she'd get to where she needed to be. Steve shouldn't miss her, not as much as he does, but he does. That's the problem. He'll get phone calls from her, excited and bright and short, she's got a column in the local newspaper, her dorm-mates are considerate, there's a library within walking distance. He's so fucking happy and proud.

But also...

"I think I'm still in love with her," he confesses one night. It's late, too late to be talking. There's a burning sweep of ash in his throat, a joint nearly roached between his fingers, and some movie playing in front of him. The television is quiet, buzzing and fizzing.

"Yeah?"

Oh. And Eddie's here, too. Replacing one friend for another. Not that Nancy did stuff like this, sitting around with him, smoking and shooting shit. No, she was more the kind of girl who enjoyed binging some rom-com from the discount bin at Family Video, sipping hot gos as Steve put it out into the world. She liked wine nights—it was the only stereotype she allowed herself to have.

He swallows around smoke. The joint begins to hurt, so he leans forward towards Eddie's coffee table, putting it out in an already full ashtray. They should really break this habit. Do something else. Find another thing to entertain them, but the weed loosens the works. Makes it easier to be himself without trying so damn hard. Not like it matters. Eddie figures him out anyway. Perceptive bastard.

His hands hang between his knees. Head heavy on his neck, pulled forward so his shoulders hunch. The screen flashes, and so his eyes dart to figure the picture. He's never been able to paint it clearly, doesn't understand the image, can't caption the words.

"I don't know," Steve murmurs, "it's just...she calls me, y'know, tells me everything going on in her life. And I know she's broken up from Jon, working on herself—whatever that means—but I...I hear her talk about these guys and girls she's bumping into on campus. Don't think she realizes, but she's on her way to falling in love with her lab partner."

"You saying you're jealous of a person you've never met?"

"I'm not the jealous type"—

"Sorry, Steve, it sorta sounds like you are."

Sighing, relenting, Steve rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat. Nods against the back of the couch, gaze adrift to the water stains on the ceiling. "Maybe I am, then. But I'm not gonna do anything about it, swear. She's happy now. Has her whole life ahead of her. Not the kind to settle down and have a brood of children, I get that, but I guess the dream still clouds my brain."

Eddie looks to him, he can feel his burning stare. He keeps his gaze astute on the ceiling. There's something in him that melts with Eddie's molten eyes—he'd let the change happen at a moment's notice. Not now, though. And definitely not yet. "You guys are on two different worlds," Eddie states softly, "she isn't yours to keep. And I'm sure she doesn't want to be kept, not now at least." He bumps his hand on Steve's thigh, the contact burns, but Steve doesn't shy from it. Instead, he lolls his head and looks over.

One day, his brain won't be set on Nancy.

Maybe it'll be somebody else.

"I don't how you're supposed to do it," Eddie continues, "but you have to move on, Steve. Be her friend, but don't let the thought of her eat away at you."

He swallows, a sour lump heavy in his throat. "I know," he mutters. His eyes are heavy, wet when he blinks them. But Eddie doesn't acknowledge that, doesn't make fun of him. It's nice. Steve sighs. "I just think I'm gonna love her forever and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I know, Steve," Eddie whispers, matching the tenderness, "but one day, things will be different. I swear, Stevie, they will."

"Yeah"—he nods once, quickly. Lets out another soft breath—"did you know that Nance and I met on her first day of freshman year?"

"Mm, no I didn't. Tell me about it?"

At least Eddie won't shut him down on this. Not like other people have.

"She had these big, square glasses on," Steve reminisces, "her hair tied up in this ponytail, stray hairs all around her face. We were at this club fair. I was looking into the student council and she was at the booth beside me, the business club's. And all I could think was, there's no way she's interested in that, must be her dad talking."—he snorts—"when I went over to ask her about it, she did one of those big, nasty sighs. All...jaded or whatever. She told me her dad was full of shit. Honestly thought she was gonna be some prissy, pretty mouthed girl who's well-mannered—that kind of garbage—but she wasn't. She was honest.

"I knew, right then and there, that I was gonna find a way to woo her. Maybe it was just...maybe I was being a bit too out there for a fifteen year old, but I honest to god thought she was the one for me. My soulmate. But then...well, y'know the story of us. Not meant to be." Steve sighs, wistful and forlorn. The image of fourteen year old Nancy Wheeler, her too big glasses and her smile full of braces, gone in an instant. He continues, "That dream I had where she was my wife, we had that whole crowd of kids, sometimes I think that was my dad talking. The ideal family mumbo-jumbo. But I think, if her and I were different people—if she wasn't afraid of becoming her mom and I wasn't afraid of becoming my dad—maybe that whole thing could'a worked out. But...Nancy's too brilliant for that. Too brilliant for nuclear bullshit. And I'm sorta...sorta behind, y'know. Late bloomer on what I want."

Eddie blinks at him. His wonderfully dark eyes pulling Steve back to himself. The hand has returned to sit against his thigh, heavy and warm and sure. Grounding. "What do you want, Steve?"

He blows out a sharp breath. "Loaded question," Steve says, "I want to get out of Hawkins, I know that much. Find somewhere to be. To be what, I'm not sure, but something more than just...just world's best babysitter who knows when to have a car at the right moment and also the inventory system for movies I've never fucking seen."

The smile that compliments that statement is only born from Eddie's warm laughter. He wants to nurture that smile, the way his cheeks stretch with it. It's the warmest thing he's felt in a long while.

"What about you, Eds, what do you want?"

"Honestly, I don't fucking know," Eddie answers in turn. "I wanted to be a world famous rockstar. But every time I put my fingers on the frets, I think about Metallica and world ending doom, so...guess that's sorta out of the cards. Oh, maybe I could write shit! I could...I could take the whole world ending bullshit and turn it into some sci-fi novel. Call it...The Underworld or something."

"The Underworld or Something sounds like a mouthful," Steve teases.

"Right...The Underworld. Title in progress. Hell, you know, maybe you could be my editor?"

"I'm not a strong enough reader for that, Eds." Eddie chuckles and nods, conceding. Steve just relishes in the tired sound of his laughter. "Got any other gigs you think I could do?"

"Book binding," Eddie says easily, "it's methodical. Takes some energy to focus on the craft, but you work a lot with your hands and tools. Something quiet, so you aren't dealing with angry moms and their crying children. But something just bland enough that you're not overexerting your efforts. Could put your brain on hobbies you wanted to work. Book binding and playing basketball in your free time sounds like the dream for you, Steve."

"Yeah? You've been thinking about this for a while? 'Cause, gotta give it to you, if that's improvised, you're a fucking genius."

"Ah, thank you, thank you...you flatter me, sweetheart. In another life, I take the world by storm with my on stage presence."

"Why not in this one?"

"Hollywood's too convoluted," Eddie says, "they'd probably do some evil shit like put me on an unethical diet and call it the beauty world's next hot tip or something. Or, y'know, they'd put me in a Speedo catalog. Don't think I could do that, ruins the integrity of my image."

Steve snorts again and swipes his tongue inside his lower lip. "Hm," he assesses, eyes squinted at Eddie's shorts-clad legs, "you've got good enough legs for it, though. Put you in some zebra print tighties and call it couture."

"Again, Steve, you flatter me." Eddie hits his thigh again, drawing his attention back. "Seriously, though," he says, voice dropped low, "one day you'll have things figured out enough. Maybe you'll still love her, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll be binding books or working a cash register. But, someday, you'll be the Steve Harrington you need yourself to be. Not today, and that's okay."

"Yeah," he sighs, "not today."

He thinks of Nancy, happy in Boston. Jonathan happy in Lenora. Robin in Seattle. All of them, sans Eddie and himself, separated and happy.

It's bittersweet, to love somebody he can't have. It always will be. He knows, despite himself, that he's going to love her until the day he dies. And she won't know that, and that has to be okay. They missed the chance—he missed the chance. Things are for the better, though.

He has a new friend in Eddie. He's got a load of feelings to stifle through. And he's got a lot to look forward to in the coming years of his very formative twenties. But for now, this is it: wallowing on Eddie's couch, tossing jokes at one another, smoke coating his throat.

It's not the best, but it could certainly be a lot worse. Things are reasonable and he's alive and some stuff is amiss, but things will work out.

Especially since he's got a new person on his side.

🫂—————🫂

[worshipme]

who: tyler && leila ! [ @baddieisms ] where: leila's hotel room after collision

tyler's used to being a hot topic within the community. in fact, he's always been quite the hot topic wherever he goes and he was dumb enough in the past to think it had nothing to do with his family name. however, the small discourse on the dash with his name attached to it was one of the few times that he genuinely enjoyed it.

he stands in front of a hotel room door, double checking the number he had been texted to make sure he was standing in front of the right one before shooting the person inside a text that he was here. he knew his name would be thrown around with this person - it wasn't like he was hiding his flirtations with everything that seemed to breathe - but he hadn't expected for the other things that her name was thrown around with. and truthfully? watching the little catfight on the dash only made him more excited to see her that night - and let her steal a few of his chips.

"hello, miss grey." he greets her as soon as the door is opened. he pulls his shades off of his face as he takes a step inside the room. "don't worry, i didn't come empty handed. everything you requested is in my backpack. and just because i know you'll be stealing more than just a few of my chips, i made sure to get a bigger one for us to share." he says while he shrugs off his backpack. tyler walks into the room as if it was his own, and he's quick to make himself comfortable as he slips off his shoes and places them close to the wall.

"you were on fire on the dash last night. you gon' step into the ring with the two of them in a match or what?" his tone is lighthearted - teasing. like they were two familiar close friends who were comfortable with each other already. "shit, let me be the guest referee. i won't count for them."

[oohnotvery]

Wherever Is Your Heart (Chapter 1)

PART I

Scully

It’s been a long time since Scully has felt this drunk. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but the Bureau’s annual holiday party has been more fun and the champagne more free-flowing than she had anticipated. Plus, something about the way people are staring at her ass in this dress is giving her a boost of confidence she didn’t know she needed.  

She’s never quite lacked confidence in the way she looks, but lately, she’s cared far more about who’s looking. For most of her career, she’s operated under the assumption that despite the affection and camaraderie that they share, nothing would ever heat up between her and Mulder. Falling in love and jumping into bed together are too risky for a partnership like theirs.

But the attraction and chemistry and the he likes me/he likes me not that bubble just under the surface of their professional relationship have started to rise. Lately, in those quiet moments between cases—on long drives, while writing reports, when walking down the street with matching coffees—she’s been catching him staring. It’s happened often enough that it’s changed her calculation just slightly, tipping the scales in favor of he likes me. He hasn’t tried anything, exactly, but she doesn’t think she’s reading him wrong. Those long, lingering glances seem to be filled with a certain yearning that she’s never before noticed in his eyes.

So on nights like this, when she’s allowed to be as feminine, as divine, as lovely as possible, she takes the chance. Because maybe tonight’s the night that Mulder will finally make his move.

She knows she looks good. In her line of work, it is a rare thing to get to throw on a slinky black satin dress and a swipe of Dior’s famous Christmas-red lipstick. It is unusual to show as much skin as she is showing tonight, her full back exposed down to her sacrum, her breasts spilling out of the corseted top. It is special to be noticed—and not just for being Mrs. Spooky. 

But it’s ten p.m., and Mulder hasn’t bothered to show, that bastard. Even after she harassed him, harangued him, threatened him, bothered him, enticed him . . . he doesn’t turn up. 

In a haze of wine and whiskey, she decides she won’t let this night go to waste. She will revel in her beauty, her womanhood, her want. She will let loose and have fun. She will flirt and be flirted with. If Mulder isn’t going to make an effort, she won’t deny herself her own pleasure.

And so she drinks, letting first A.D. Skinner and then a stranger from accounting take her for a spin on the dance floor. Twinkly, starry lights swing from the ballroom’s chandeliers and light her skin with a warm glow. She basks in the attention of men she has never met filling up her wine glasses, of a handsome new special agent bringing her a bubbly sip of champagne.

“Agent Jacobs,” the man says by way of introduction, his bright blue eyes striking against his jet-black hair. He presses the flute into her fingers and smiles sweetly. Her lips lift into a satisfied grin as the sparkly feeling of champagne trips down her throat.

“Dana,” she replies coquettishly, already ready to give this stranger a chance at being on a first-name basis.

“Tyler,” he replies with an even wider smile, and she feels his hand warm the dip in her spine. “Care for a dance?”

His face tips close to hers and she feels the scratchy material of his wool suit scritch temptingly against her arm. She instantly wants to bury her face in it.

“Mhmm,” is all she can muster as alcohol drips through her system.

Time floats by without notice. One minute she is swinging with Tyler to a festive, upbeat song, her heels slipping and sliding gleefully against the floor; and the next, he is pressing her into his chest, gripping her hand tightly to his heart, whispering naughty, exciting things in her ear as a crooner sings an old-school melody.

“Let me take you home, Dana,” he whispers, his stubble raking deliciously across the soft skin of her cheek. There is nothing more intoxicating than a man who wants her back.

With half-lidded eyes, she begins to nod, because she wants to be touched, wants to be loved, and who better than this handsome man she’s never met, this man who’s paying her all the attention in the world, who’s making her feel wanted, special, adored?

Tyler grips the back of her head and she feels his lips pressing into the crown of her hair, and it feels so good to be treated like this, to be touched like this. She melts.

And then she feels fingers at her elbow, a gentle tug, a few quiet words, and Mulder comes into view.

His smile is warm but concerned, his expression tender but firm.

“Come on, party girl,” he murmurs in her ear, his arm draping possessively around her shoulders. “I’ll take you home.”

She blinks dopily up at him.

Oh, yes. Oh, yes. How could she have forgotten? Mulder. Mulder is going to take her home. Mulder, with his patient eyes and kind smile and delicious jawline. Mulder, with his heart only for mysteries and monsters. Mulder, with his brilliant mind and kissable lips.

Mulder wants to take her home.

“Mulder,” she says with a growing smile, all thoughts of Tyler forgotten, “you made it.”

He cocks his head at her and she runs her hands up his arms.

“Steady there,” he whispers conspiratorially, and when Tyler tries to butt in and explain himself, Mulder just tugs Scully into a private corner.

In some far-off recess of her mind, she hears Tyler calling after her that they should get drinks soon. With eyes only for Mulder, she doesn’t even acknowledge him.

In the corner of the ballroom, Mulder places a hand on her shoulder and with his other hand, tips her chin up to meet his eyes. He’s going to kiss her. She just knows it. She feels her eyelids growing heavy with want.

“You want to go home with that guy?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

She opens her mouth to reply, but the words come out garbled.

“Scully,” Mulder tries again, squeezing her shoulder a little. “Dana, Dana look at me.” Her eyes lift lazily to his. He’s so beautiful in his black Armani suit. She tells him so. His lips quirk into a quick smile. “Dana Scully,” he asks slowly, his face the picture of seriousness, “do you want to go home with Agent Jacobs?”

She shakes her head naughtily. “I want to go home with you,” she whines, tugging him closer by his bowtie. “Take me home with you.”

He chuffs a little laugh and nods. “Okay, Scully, then let’s go.”

She feels her knees buckle slightly at his words. He’s going to take her home. Finally. This is finally happening.

She doesn’t remember how they get back home, or why they’re at her home instead of his. It doesn’t matter. She stumbles through the door and turns to face him. His features are masked in the dim light of her apartment but she can see that he’s smiling slightly, almost like he’s enjoying seeing her like this. Well then. She has a lot more to show him.

“Come,” she says with a tug of his hand, and she drags him into her. When he bumps into her chest, she stretches her arms up over his shoulders and slings them around his neck, pulling him down for a hug.

He hugs her back but it’s only for a minute before he’s gently prying her arms off.

“Kiss me,” she hears herself say, but she’s not embarrassed because he brought her home. He took her away from Tyler for just this reason, to bring her home.

His eyes grow dark for a minute and then he’s laughing nervously and she hears him making excuses.

“I want you so bad,” she whispers as her hands fall to his belt. He yelps when she sloppily tugs at his trousers and her hands pass over his groin. “I want to taste you,” she slurs, dropping to her knees and pressing her face into his thighs.

“Oh—Scully, Scully,” he’s repeating over and over, and she feels his hands tugging at her biceps, first gently and then more roughly, until she’s being forced off the ground and held firmly at arms-length.

“Scully,” he says with a stern look, “you’re drunk,” he tells her, but she knows that. It doesn’t make any difference. I still want you, all the time, even when I’m sober. She may say that out loud, but she isn’t sure.

She feels him turning her around and marching her to her bedroom, lifting her in his arms when she refuses to walk. This is it. This is the moment. He’s going to throw her onto the bed and ravage her. She trembles a little with excitement but instead, he lays her down gently, then makes quick work of her shoes. He doesn’t even touch her beautiful dress or her heaving breasts.

“Touch me,” she whines again, pulling at the hem of her dress until it rides up to her waist. She’s wearing the tiniest G-string she owns and she watches as his eyes flit over her thighs quickly before red colors his cheeks.

“Scully. Jesus, stop,” he says firmly, yanking her dress back down.

A sour mood fills the room as she tries to read his expression. For years, she has catalogued every Mulder expression he’s ever made—profiler Mulder, investigator Mulder, comforter Mulder, Agent Mulder—but this . . . this one she doesn’t know. It’s something like exasperation and amusement and horror, all wrapped into one. Her alcohol-addled brain doesn’t know what to do with it.

He leaves the bedroom without a word and she closes her eyes for a moment, reveling in the spin of the room around her. When he comes back, he is carrying water, coffee, and aspirin, which he forces her to take before he will let her close her eyes again.

“I’ll be on the couch if you get sick,” she hears him telling her, and she feels a hand in her hair, petting her like she’s a dog.

“No,” she wants to say, “stay with me.” But her words are caught in the back of her throat, trapped there by alcohol and the heaviness of slumber.

She falls in and out of a restless sleep. When she gets sick, she barely makes it to the toilet, and she feels Mulder rushing in to hold her hair. Her dress twists around her waist as she retches on her knees.

Brushed teeth and a glass of water later, she is back in bed, but now she is fully awake. She knows she can’t be drunk anymore. Alcohol doesn’t last that long in the system, right? Something smart in the back of her brain tries to explain otherwise, to tell her that the effects of alcohol actually linger for quite some time, and certainly don’t disappear after two hours. But she traps that part of her intelligence away.

Convinced that she’s no longer drunk, she decides to try again.

Fumbling out of bed, she trips to the couch, where Mulder is staring listlessly at the T.V., his suit jacket thrown over the back of the chair, his Oxford shirt unbuttoned and untucked. He glances at her questioningly.

“You okay?” he asks, and she knows he wants her too. She felt it in the way he took her away from Tyler—so possessively.

She nods and hitches up her skirt, then throws her knee across his waist and straddles him. His eyes widen in shock and she grinds down on his lap.

“Fuck me,” she says as flirtatiously as possible, hoping her makeup still looks good, hoping she still smells nice. She drapes her arms across his shoulders and tangles her hands in his hair. This is how she always imagined it. Riding him like this without abandon.

His hands grip at her waist and yes, he wants this too.

But he’s holding her back from him, he’s telling her she’s drunk. But doesn’t he know that she’s not drunk anymore? She shakes her head and ignores the way the room spins when she does. She grinds down on him again and he holds her off again, pushing her from his lap. She loses her balance and starts to careen to the floor but he steadies her with strong arms at her back.

“I love you,” she tells him, because it’s true but also because maybe that will do the trick.

His eyes flit between hers for a long moment and she wonders if he’s making up his mind. “I love you,” she repeats more quietly.

“Scully,” he whispers, standing and lifting her with him. “Let’s get you back to bed.” Pain seems to cross his face and she frowns, shaking her head.

“No, no,” she pleads, “no.”

He nods more firmly, taking her by the arm and half-dragging, half-carrying her to her room.

“I’m going back to the couch, okay?” he tells her as he settles her back into bed, and she feels tears leaking traitorously down her cheeks. He brushes a thumb under her eyelids and more tears start to fall.

“You’ll be okay,” he tells her, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and leaving the room.

She cries herself to sleep.

[aprendimos-el-idioma-del-amor]

You're the one that I want

Since it's almost halloween, this idea popped into my head. Lucy and Tim take his nephews trick or treating. But to do that, they need a costume. Is he going to regret letting Lucy choose their couples costume? By the title, you can already guess what Lucy picks. But as a side note, feel free to send me holiday themed prompts. I like writing them.

“Remind me again why I agreed to this,” Tim said, grumpy as usual.

Lucy and Tim were strolling around in a costume shop, they were trying to find the perfect costume to take Tim’s nephews trick or treating.

“Because you promised Genny to take them out since she had to work,” Lucy simply explained as she searched through all the costumes.

“Right, this is going to be a long night,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Oh come on,” she turned around and lightly hit him on the arm, “This is going to be fun. Especially if we put on a couple’s costume.”

“No, no way,” Tim denied and glared at her, “It’s bad enough that I have to put on a costume in the first place.”

“Alright then, no matching costumes,” she said in a neutral tone, trying to hide her disappointment.

Lucy walked away from him and went to another rack of female costumes, not bothering to take another look at the man’s section.

Tim saw right through her and took a deep breath, he really hated seeing her sad. He shouldn’t have bothered in the first place, he knew he was going to give in eventually.

“Fine, we’ll do a couples costume,” he said, a little disappointed in himself he couldn’t resist.

“Really?” Lucy turned around and smiled widely at him. She jumped up and down in excitement. Suddenly, Tim found himself excited for Halloween night as well. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

“Do you want to help me find a good costume?” she asked as she looked through all the options on the rack.

Tim smiled and said: “No, I trust you to make a good choice. I’m giving you free reign.”

She turned around and saw the mischief appearing on her face. She was already making plans for a costume, he could tell.

“This is even better,” she said as she put her hands on her hips.

 “What could we do? What could we do?” she said to herself, forgetting where she was for a minute. She didn’t see Tim widen his eyes and shake his head. He was dreading the moment she knew what they were going to dress up as.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” he said as he crossed his arms and gave her a stern look.

She ignored his remark and started to think about it for a moment and tapped with her finger on her chin. Her face lit up when she finally thought of something amazing to do.

“Oh, I got it,” she said enthusiastically, “But I’m going to find the stuff I need in here so we should go.”

She took his arm and led him to the exit, she marched like she was on a mission and Tim was confused about her sudden change of heart. She seemed determined to find a costume in this shop.

“Can I know what this costume is?” he asked in a suspicious tone, not trusting her change in attitude.

“No, I want it to be a surprise,” she simply said and continued to take him along back to his truck.

When they got seated in the truck, she noticed the concern and his face.

She reassured him with a mischievous smile: “Don’t worry, you’ll definitely love the costumes. Especially mine. You’ll see.”

***

On the night of Halloween, Lucy was in her bedroom, getting all the bags full of clothes she purchased for her and Tim’s costume.

Tim was waiting in the living room for his girlfriend, she was going to dress up first and show him what decision she made. She said it would be clear what she chose once she appeared with her outfit on.

He was sitting on the couch, tapping his foot on the ground. He was anxious to find out who he’s going to be dressed up as the entire night.

While she was rummaging in the bathroom, she called out to him: “When were Tyler and Rylie going to come over?”

“Uhm, Genny said she’d be here in about an hour with the boys,” he called back, happy to have a distraction from all the ideas Lucy could have come up with.

“Do you know who they’re going to be dressed up as?” she asked as she put the last touches on her make-up and hair.

“Genny didn’t want to say, she said she wanted it to be a surprise,” he scowled, people really loved surprising him. He really didn’t like surprises.

He heard Lucy snort all the way from the bathroom and he rolled his eyes at her amusement. She was definitely enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, this must be killing you,” she said and her voice sounded closer now.

“You have no idea,” he said and his misery was obvious on his face.

“I’m ready,” she softly said, suddenly sounding nervous.

He turned around and stood up and looked her up and down. His eyes widened and his jaw almost fell to the floor.

“Lucy… you look…” he said but his words fell short when he took in her leather pants clad form.

He looked from her feet wearing red pumps, then her skin tight black leather pants and then her form fitting black off the shoulder top and then her curls.

He was too stunned to speak about her choice of costume. He was just standing there, not being able to take his eyes off her.

“Do you like it?” she teasingly smiled at him and made a turn so he could look at her from all angles.

“Do you think we have enough time until my nephews arrive for me to take that outfit off you,” he simply said but the lust in his eyes was clear.

He walked over to her slowly, ready to take this to her bedroom but she stopped him by putting a hand on his chest.

“You need to get ready and put on your Danny clothes,” she said sternly, but her hand stroking his chest signaled she wanted the same thing as him, “You don’t want your nephews to walk into something they shouldn’t see, right?”

He sighed: “Fine, Sandy but I’m taking that off once we get back.”

The stern look he gave her just made her waver on going out at all even more. But she had to be strong, there was plenty of time for that later. But she felt proud she got the reaction she wanted when picking out this costume.

That moment, the doorbell rang and they were pulled out of their trance.

“I’ll open the door while you go get changed. Your clothes are on the bed,” she said as she smiled. He still had a dazed look in his eyes.

***

Tim finally put on his leather jacket, white T-shirt, jeans and white sneakers. He looked into the mirror to see what he looked like. 

“It isn’t that bad,” Tim smiled and was grateful she picked out a nice outfit. He may have nothing with Grease but the look suited him somehow.

He walked into the living room and smiled at seeing Lucy interact with his nephews. She was crouching down to their level and she was complimenting their cop costumes.

“Hello, officers Bradford,” he greeted them and they all turned to look at him.

“They really wanted to look like their uncle,” Genny said with a smile.

“No, we wanted to dress like aunt Lucy,” Tyler said with an angry frown, looking up at his mother.

“Oh, that hurts, Tyler,” Tim said, faking being hurt by putting a hand on his heart.

“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Lucy said with a smile, looking at Tyler who looked a little sad at the thought of his uncle being hurt.

“Yeah, don’t worry, buddy,” he reassured the young boy, “Why don’t we go out and get some candy.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Genny said and hugged everyone goodbye.

“Why don’t you two go ahead and wait in the lobby?” Lucy suggested and they did as she asked.

She turned around when they were out of hearing range and he walked over to her and put his hands on her hips. He needed to be careful where he put his hands or he wouldn’t be able to avoid temptation.

“You look very handsome,” she said as she put her hands on his chest, he really looked good in that white T-shirt.

“I must say you made a great choice. I shouldn’t have doubted your ideas,” he said, looking anywhere at her but her eyes.

She hit him lightly on the shoulder and said: “Behave!”

“You’re making it really hard to do so,” he said with a smirk, his face full of innuendo.

“Get out now!” she scorned and she left before he could do anything else.

***

After a long night of going from door to door, they dropped off Tim's nephews and went straight to her apartment.

“The boy seemed to have a lot of fun,” she said as she sat down on the couch, “I almost couldn’t keep up with them.”

She took off her heels while he sat down next to her.

“But that also might have to do with me choosing these heels. They’re definitely killer heels,” she complained and rubbed her feet to soothe the ache in them.

“I have another definition of killer heels because they sure almost killed me,” he said and took over from her, rubbing her feet.

“My goal is achieved then,” Lucy said teasingly.

After a moment of silence, she talked again: “I have to say it was a lot of fun, taking out the boys trick or treating, I can’t wait to do that with our own kids.”

“Me neither,” he agreed with her but added: “Although I would like to have more family friendly costumes then.”

He glared at the memory of other guys checking her out while out and about in the city. She knew how to draw attention.

“I’m thinking maybe the bears that are from goldilocks,” she commented as she thought about the options.

“Whatever you choose, I’m sure I’ll like it,” he said and looked at her with a content smile.

“I’m sure you will,” she paused for a moment, “But first, remember what you promised to do at the end of the night?”

“I definitely remember,” he said and looked at her intensely. The lust in his eyes came back in full force.

His lips crashed onto hers and she kissed him back feverishly. He took her into his arms and led her straight to the bedroom. Ready to do what he wanted to since he saw her dressed up as Sandy.

[topperradio]

Welcome to ACL: Where You Pay to Sweat and be Starstruck

I have been wanting to enjoy the atmosphere and experiences of ACL since I discovered my love for live music. Growing up in San Antonio, it was easy to make a quick trip to Austin for the weekend. Unfortunately, I never brought myself to buy those precious wristbands.

It wasn’t until this year, when my bank account had finally recovered from the multiple hits it took from previous concerts, that I had my opportunity to buy a one-day wristband. It was a no-brainer for my cousin and I to buy Sunday wristbands because, duh, Chappell Roan and Tyler, the Creator were performing on the same night. Sign us up!

(Photos provided by Elliana Guardado)

The anticipation of walking from our parked car— which I highly recommend paying in advance for— to Zilker Park was a warm-up to the heat and pain our feet would endure the whole day. Once you enter, the heat and pain don’t seem to matter anymore. It’s like going to Disneyland for the first time, but with multiple stages and the smell of weed everywhere.

Our first stop was at the T-Mobile stage to catch the remaining minutes of Malcom Todd’s set. Neither my cousin nor I had heard much of his discography, but what really caught our attention was his rendition of the “iCarly” theme song. With that, he gained two loyal fans.

After some sitting and water breaks, we made our way to the Honda stage to settle in for Orville Peck. Getting there a bit early allowed us to watch the end of MisterWives. Oh girl, that woman is a ball of energy. Jumping around in her sparkly outfit with the sun directly on her was enough for me to stop complaining about my exhaustion. After she finished, the crowd started to pour out, and my cousin and I got a spot on the barricade for Orville Peck.

Orville Peck was the beginning of the ideal experience we imagined ACL would bring. Performing songs like “Dead of Night” and “Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other” had both of us swaying to his deep, raspy voice. Peck, being one of the first artists we were fans of, really made this experience special. We thought seeing him was the most exciting part—oh, do I have a story for you.

Where we were standing was near the entrance to the VIP section. Here we are, having the time of our lives listening to Peck sing his heart out. Guess who we see? None other than Jared Padalecki making his way past us to the VIP section. For those who don’t know, he is best known for his role as Dean from "Gilmore Girls" or Sam from "Supernatural." Like anyone would, I freaked out when we got confirmation that it was really him by catching a glimpse of his side profile. We had to prove that it was him and not just some really tall dude with great hair. Thinking that catching a glimpse of him was exciting, y’all, he came up and took a picture with the girl right next to us. He seemed like he was in a rush, so my cousin and I didn’t want to bother him again, but I unknowingly touched his arm. I was unaware I did this until later, when I was in disbelief that I had.

During this time, the sun had set a bit and was starting to show off its beauty. As we all know from experience, the Texas sun doesn’t let up, and we were still dying.

With a quick food break, it was already time to make our way to the American Express stage to snag a spot for Chappell Roan’s upcoming set. Even though we couldn’t see the stage, we had a view of the screens, and that is all that matters. Her stage presence was unbelievable. Roan’s breathtaking vocals performing some of her hit songs like “Pink Pony Club” and “My Kink Is Karma” made all the difference. My life is now complete thanks to being able to do the “Hot to Go” dance.

If anyone is familiar with the energy Tyler, the Creator brings to his sets, you know how this went down. Witty remarks, high energy, and some creepy facial expressions filled his entire time on stage. This was my favorite set of the day as he performed popular songs like “See You Again” and “New Magic Wand.” In his words at the end of his set, “For all you rich people, I will see you next weekend,” just confirms another reason why I envy the rich.

Since this was our first time at the festival, we had no expectations. As far as we were concerned from the numerous TikTok videos, the only thing we had to worry about was the dust and the recommendation not to wear cowboy boots. Oh, how I wish I had listened to you all about the dust and boots! My feet were blistered for days after, and three days following the festival, I caught the ACL plague. Nonetheless, I had an amazing time. I am so ready to buy my wristband for next year. This is the start of a joyous addiction.

(Photos provided by Elliana Guardado)

By Elliana Guardado

[devskindawritingblog]

Princess!Taissa x Knight!Van

Click to help Palestine 🇵🇸

AN: ( please read) ok so this has been something I have been working on for a little bit now. Me and my wifey @schrodingerspsycho were talking about masquerade balls and I knew I had to write something for Tai and Van about it. Historical is in quotations because I suck at it. It’s set in the 1800’s because it’s the height of like masquerade balls but the characters don’t necessarily talk like the 1800’s I tried my best. But I didn’t do much research. With that being said this fic is not based on homophobia during that time because it’s about queer people going to a masquerade ball and I don’t want to write homophobia. There is pressure for Taissa to marry a man but no direct homophobia.Also if you haven’t read my Taissa Turner Christmas fic. I have two like “oc’s” who are Taissa little brother and sister named Tegan and Tyler so I brought them back for this fic, just so no one is confused.

Summary: Taissa is a princess, the daughter of the king and queen and she needs to find her match. Her parents hold a party for her and a certain knight catches her attention. Basically princess!Taissa and knight!Van🥰. Also I’m using they/them pronouns for Van.

Taissa Turner is the daughter of the royal family. The next in line for the heir. She was going to rule the kingdom one day. Her mother and father have been preparing her ever since she was old enough to talk; now it is her 18th birthday party. Her parents had been trying and trying to find her the “perfect match." They decided to have a masquerade ball. If she was going to have to find her match soon, she would much rather choose for herself.

Her siblings were rather pleased with that idea. The twins have been excited to go to a party ever since they were old enough to attend the balls. They both got outfits made and were ecstatic all week. Taissa, of course, had a gown made for the night; it was her party after all. She got fitted and tailored a beautiful deep forest green dress. It complimented her wonderfully, and somehow it made her look even more stunning.

The night had finally come. Tai was in her room, wearing thedress. Her mother had come by to do her hair, and she was just waiting for it to start. She was very nervous; she was trying to find which jewellery to wear and trying to distract herself. She was actually doing neither; she went back and forth a few times on which earrings. She finally settled on some simple studs that matched her dress. Now her distraction was gone, but before she could stress more, her siblings ran into her bedroom.

“Tai! Tai!” Tegan yells, running up to her sister.

“Mama said the guests have arrived.” Tyler adds as they tug on her arm, pulling her out of her chair and onto her feet.

“Alright, Alright. First, let me put on my shoes.” She smiles fondly at the twins' overwhelming excitement. She slips on her heels and buckles up the straps. Her siblings rush out of the room, running down the hall to the ballroom. She takes one last look at herself in the mirror and makes her way down to where the ball is taking place.

The ballroom is immaculately decorated. Taissa glances around the room; some of the guests have already started to file in. Many from out of town, longtime friends of her parents, travelled to come to her birthday. It's nice to see, but so overwhelming. Many older women dressed wonderfully come over to her to fawn over her dress and inquire about her "prince.”

She politely nods to every reference made to their “perfect” son, who would absolutely be the best for her. She knows there's no need to explain it to them, so instead she trudges through the 15th “perfect” prince. Taissa knows what she wants, but will she really find her “prince” at this ball?

She walks around for a bit before her siblings drag her to the dance floor. She dances with them for a while before the twins get bored and run off to cause a little bit of trouble. Taissa walks over to a table to hopefully get a second alone from all the stress. 

Something catches Taissa’s eye—a certain guest. A person across the floor had gorgeous ginger hair and a sleek dark green suit, almost the same shade as Taissa's. Their mask is beautiful, a lovely green that matches their suit. Tai recognizes them immediately as one of the knights who has been working in the palace. Van... they were hired a few years ago. Strong…. Brave…. Noble…… Handsome…… Cute…… “Stop it, Taissa! Focus on your night and not on their face.” Taissa shakes the thoughts out of her head as her little sister runs over to Van, grabbing them by the hand and tugging them down so she can whisper in Van’s ear. 

As the little girl pulls away, Van smiles and nods a little nervously before Tegan runs off. Van brushes off their suit as they make their way over to Taissa. Tai’s eyes widen as she fixes her dress and avoids looking at Van. She hears a familiar voice clear their throat and looks up to see Van standing before her.

Van looks even better up close, a small smirk spreads across their face as they give Tai a little formal bow. Taissa smiles fondly at the knight's formal behaviour, even at a party.

“Good evening, my lady. A little birdie told me that you wanted to dance.” Van says with a soft smile playing on their lips.

Taissa smiles back, grinning a little. “You know how to dance, knight?” 

"No, but I'm a fast learner, and I know you can dance. The royal family's eldest daughter, you know how to waltz.” They shoot Taissa a smirk and again bow and hold out their hand in the hopes that she will take it.

Tai smiles fondly and takes the knight's hand as they help her up and guide her to the ballroom. Many other young couples are dancing and enjoying the night. As they make their way, Tai can't help but admire the fiery-haired knight. She always thought highly of them and spent many nights thinking about them, though she was more embarrassed to admit it.

Tai feels the heat rise in her cheeks; somehow, she is getting hotter and hotter by the minute. She can see that the redhead is also very flushed, yet they still seem pretty confident, having never danced. They end up in the middle of the floor and turn to face each other. Tai smiles and places Van’s hands in the correct place, whispering little tips to Van so they don’t completely make a fool of themselves.

They start to waltz. Tai takes the lead; it's not normally traditional, but she couldn’t possibly care, not right now. Van is very stumbly and trips over their feet a few times. Tai fixes it, shooting them a smile. They giggle quietly together as Van tries to “dip” her. Van saves it and spins Tai around before pulling her back in. They laugh and dance together for quite a while until they both get tired. Tai drags Van off the ballroom floor and over to the table.

Most of the guests are on the floor now, and a soft song plays as couples waltz. Tai looks over and finds her siblings also dancing with their mother and father. She smiles fondly and looks back over at Van, where she finds them staring at her with a certain look in their eyes.

“What's on your mind?” Tai asks, shooting them a teasing smile.

“That was fun; I got to dance with the most beautiful girl at the party.” 

Tai feels her cheeks heat up considerably as she tries to hide her embarrassment with an eye roll. “You're unbelievable.” 

“What? Am I wrong? They smirk leaning over a bit. “You look really gorgeous tonight.” They say it a bit quieter, almost hesitant to say it. 

“Thanks; you look really handsome tonight.” Tai says, smiling as she sees the heat rise in Van’s freckled cheeks. They try to brush off their embarrassment. "You probably get compliments all the time, young princes, trying to win you over.”

“Sure but the conversation usually turns into them bragging and being arrogant.” Tai says, scoffing at the memory of earlier. “There is only one person here tonight who is actually worth talking to.” 

“Who?”

“You”

“What? Me? No, I can't even dance. I'm just a knight; I'm no prince, not even a man.” Van is very confused.

“That's why I like you so much. You're not a man. You’re not arrogant or putting on a show for me. You're just you, and that's a breath of fresh air. Sure, you’re an awful dancer, but you're so caring, sweet, optimistic, and...handsome.” Tai says, and she finally looks up at Van; she can't quite read what they are thinking. 

“You think I'm handsome?” Van smirks, laughing a bit. Tai gets embarrassed as she gives Van a little shove. "Yeah, I do.” Tai smiles, taking their hand and pulling them a bit closer to whisper. “Why don’t we go for a walk then? It's more interesting than this party.”

Van smiles and stands up, holding out their hand for Taissa to take yet again. She gratefully accepts, and Van pulls her to her feet. They quietly slip out a back door into the beautifully lit garden. They hold hands and walk together, making jokes and enjoying the star-filled sky. Tai pulls them over to a little bench in the corner of the garden. They sit down together on the bench, both a little giddy. 

Taissa smiles and plays with Van’s suit. “This is so charming, I hope you know.” She says, and Van smiles, reaches up, and takes off their mask. “Come on, take off yours as well; it's not fair, really. I want to see all of your face.”

Tai sighs softly, the smile still on her face, as she removes her mask, and Van gasps a little, grabbing her hand. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“You are so beautiful, breathtaking even.” Van says, leaning closer. 

Taissa freezes, her eyes a little wide, almost stunned. “You’re an idiot.” 

“But I only tell the truth.” Van says, leaning a bit closer. Taissa glances down at their lips and finally pulls them into a kiss. Van gasps a bit before melting into the kiss and wrapping their arms around her neck.

They both pull away so they can breathe, their foreheads touching as they stare into each other's eyes. “You're breathtaking too, Sir Palmer,” Tai says with a teasing tone before Van cuts her off, pulling her back into a kiss. Tai’s hands run down Van’s back as she pulls them closer and deeper into the kiss.

The both of them freeze as they hear footsteps and the garden door open. They quickly stand up, hiding behind a nearby tree. Van pulls Tai into their arms; they are chest-to-chest pressed against the tree. Tai peeks out of the tree and sees a drunk couple stumble through the garden as they finally stumble back through the other door. Tai leans back to see Van as the both burst into giggles together and pull each other back into a kiss. Tai leans into Van, pressing them back against the tree.

They both pull away as Van presses one final kiss on Taissa’s cheek, making her smile. They take each other's hand and go back to walking around the beautiful garden together. As the night ended, they had to part ways, but since that night, nothing has been the same. Taissa has taken up a new “hobby” of watching the knights train, well singular knight. 

Van starts to catch on after the princess has been interested in what the knights are doing three times in one week. They always send her a little smirk as they train. The two of them have gotten closer over time, too. Lots of “walks” in the garden and sneaking off together in the library. Her parents noticed too, not that they cared much. Van was one of their best knights, humble and kind. It might not be common for a knight to marry into the family, but it didn't matter. It was clear that Taissa and Van were meant for each other. 

[feraltuxedo]

All Lines Are Open

First fic of 2023 is coming in just a few days, and I'm so excited about this one! It's a collaboration with the wonderful @tawnyontumblr, in which Crowley is a chaotic radio talk show host, and Azirpahale his long-suffering producer.

Expect small-town gossip, on-air shenanigans, a good deal of smut, and... witches?

Open for a little excerpt.

“…and right after the break, we’ll take more of your calls on the issues that matter to you, whether it’s about your neighbour who insists on playing acid jazz in the middle of the night, or that teacher you’re convinced secretly hates your brat of a child. Why not call in about the pothole on the sliproad to the A423? It’s already Wednesday and we’ve only discussed that three or four times this week. The time is 9:23am, I’m Anthony Crowley, and you’re listening to Tadfield FM.”

Crowley ripped his headphones off, just as Aziraphale pressed the button that cued the ads. He glowered across the desk, lips pursed in that way that told Crowley he was about to receive a two-and-a-half-minute bollocking from his producer. 

He nearly wiggled in anticipation. Aziraphale adjusted the fit of his own headphones, smoothed out the ends of his bow tie, then sat up even straighter than before and took a deep breath. 

Here we go, Crowley thought and, for good measure, lifted his boots onto the edge of the desk that separated them.

“That was really rather unnecessary,” Aziraphale began. “You cannot just call our listener’s children brats—”

“Bet they are though.”

“That’s immaterial. They’re all part of the Tadfield FM family—”

“You did not just say that.”

“And they certainly don’t deserve to be insulted by their local radio presenter, no matter how hungover he happens to be on a Wednesday morning.”

“That’s slander.”

“Please, I can smell it from here.” 

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose to emphasise the point. Fine. Maybe Crowley hadn’t quite had enough time for a shower this morning, and maybe he had fallen asleep on the sofa last night with the telly on and two empty bottles of his favourite pinot noir on the coffee table. But that was his business alone, and definitely not that of someone who looked like he ironed his bow ties.

“And did you really have to be quite so rude about the pothole?” Aziraphale had now entered the pleading stage of his entreaties. “It’s an important matter to so many locals.”

“It’s an important matter to exactly one R.P. Tyler, who you insist on getting on the line every single day just to piss me off.”

“Whom.”

“What?”

“It’s whom I insist on getting on the line every single day.”

“Fuck off.”

“And what will you do if I do? Answer the phone yourself? I don’t think so. Oh, look, we’re back in five… four… three…”

Crowley grinned as Aziraphale finished the countdown on his fingers.

The look he gave Crowley when he gave him the cue to start talking was full of dire warnings.

Crowley's grin widened.

[rootedinrevisions]

One of Them Girls: Part 2

Part 2 of One of Them Girls! This was a story that I wrote about a month ago. Hope you guys all enjoy it! Many more parts to come!

Tyler's truck rolled to a gentle stop in front of the house you rented with your roommate. The rain had let up slightly, but a fine mist still hung in the air, adding a sense of calm after the intensity of the night. Tyler turned off the engine and looked over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"We're here," he said quietly, almost as if he didn't want the night to end.

You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement fluttering in your chest. "Thanks for the ride," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Tyler got out of the truck and quickly came around to open your door. He held out a hand to help you down, his touch warm and steady. You both walked up to your front door, the porch light casting a gentle glow around you.

"Thanks again, for everything," you said, looking up at him.

Tyler's smile widened. "Anytime. I had a great time tonight."

You both lingered for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell of the night. As you reached to take off the hoodie Tyler had lent you, he gently placed his hand over yours, stopping you.

"Keep it," he said, his voice firm but kind. "I have plenty of others."

You hesitated for a moment, but his earnest expression made you smile. "Alright, thanks. It's really warm."

"It looks good on you," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

Finally, Tyler took a small step back. "Guess I should let you get some rest," he said, though he didn't seem eager to leave.

"Yeah, I should get inside," you agreed, even though part of you wanted to stay out there with him a little longer.

As you turned to unlock the door, Tyler's voice stopped you. "Hey," he said, waiting for you to look back at him. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

A smile tugged at your lips. "I'd like that."

Tyler's eyes brightened, and he took another step back. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Tyler."

You watched as he walked back to his truck, giving you one last wave before climbing in. You stayed on the porch until his taillights disappeared down the street, then finally turned to go inside.

You turned the key in the lock as quietly as possible, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside. The house was dimly lit, and you hoped your roommate had already gone to bed. Her room was right off the living room, and you didn't want to wake her.

But as soon as you stepped inside, you were greeted by the sight of her sitting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her, and a cup of tea in her hands. She looked up, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.

"Well, well, well," she said, setting the cup down. "Look who decided to finally come home."

You sighed, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"And miss hearing about your night with Tyler Owens? Not a chance," she teased, patting the spot on the couch next to her. "Come on, spill."

You kicked off your shoes and walked over, sitting down beside her. "It was...interesting."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. "Interesting? That's all I get? You were out with Tyler Owens, and all you can say is 'interesting'?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Okay, okay. It was more than interesting. It was actually a really great night. We talked, danced..."

Her eyes widened with excitement. "You danced? With Tyler Owens? Oh my God, tell me everything!"

You gave her a play-by-play of the night, from Tyler's initial approach to your game of pool, the dance, and finally the ride home. She listened intently, hanging on to every word.

"And then," you continued, "he walked me to the door and told me to keep his hoodie."

Her eyes narrowed playfully. "Wait a minute. Did you kiss him? Because I feel like you might be leaving out some juicy details here."

You blushed, shaking your head. "No, we didn't kiss. He almost did, but the bartender called last call and interrupted us."

She leaned back, looking satisfied. "Almost kissed, huh? That's still pretty hot."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. "He asked if he could call me tomorrow."

Your roommate squealed, pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you! I knew something good would come out of tonight."

You hugged her back, feeling grateful for her support. "Thanks. And thanks for waiting up for me."

"Of course," she said, pulling back and giving you a serious look. "But now, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow's a new day, and who knows what it'll bring."

You nodded, feeling a mix of exhaustion and excitement. "You're right. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied, still grinning.

As you made your way to your room, you couldn't help but smile. Tonight had been unexpected, but it felt like the start of something new. And you couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message. Tyler's name flashed on the screen.

Tyler: Hey, Good Morning. Had a great time last night. Want to meet up later? I know a place with the best breakfast tacos.

You stared at the message, your mind still foggy with sleep. A small smile crept onto your face, the memory of the night before making your heart flutter. You wondered if it was just a friendly gesture or something more. You quickly texted back, trying to sound casual.

You: Morning! Breakfast tacos sound good. Where and when?

You set your phone down and buried your face in the pillow, letting the warmth of the blanket envelope you. Your roommate's voice echoed in your mind, teasing you about last night, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of Tyler's smile and the way he held you close.

The phone buzzed again, pulling you from your thoughts.

Tyler: How about 10 at Joe's Diner? See you there.

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. You weren't sure what this meant, but you were ready to find out.

You stretched and got out of bed, the promise of breakfast tacos and seeing Tyler again urging you to start your day. After a quick shower, you stood in front of your closet, staring at the rows of clothes, feeling more indecisive than usual. You rifled through your options, pulling out a few different outfits and tossing them onto the bed.

You tried on a pair of jeans and a casual top, but it felt too ordinary. A skirt and blouse seemed too formal. Finally, you pulled out a sundress—a light, flowy dress with a floral pattern. It was a bit nicer than your usual attire but still comfortable and not overly fancy. You slipped it on, feeling a little more confident as you looked in the mirror.

Just then, your roommate walked by your room and paused, taking in the sight of clothes strewn across your bed.

"What's going on in here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You never stress about what to wear."

You turned to face her, smoothing the dress nervously. "I have a... uh, breakfast date with Tyler. I just wanted to look nice, I guess."

Your roommate's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and excitement. "A breakfast date? With Tyler Owens? And you didn't think to tell me?"

You shrugged, a sheepish smile on your face. "I wasn't sure if it was a date date or just a friendly thing. But I figured I should make an effort."

She grinned, stepping into the room to give you a once-over. "Well, you look great. That dress is perfect. Not too fancy but definitely cute. He's going to love it."

You blushed, grateful for her encouragement. "Thanks. I hope so."

She winked at you. "Just be yourself. He obviously likes you for who you are."

You took a deep breath and nodded, feeling a little more at ease. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks."

With one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and phone, ready to head out and meet Tyler.

You arrived at the diner, your heart fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. As you parked your car, you spotted Tyler already seated at a table by the window. He looked relaxed, wearing a casual button-up shirt and jeans, his cowboy hat resting on the seat beside him.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced down at your lap, trying to steady your nerves. Was this really happening? You were about to have breakfast with Tyler Owens. Shaking off your doubts, you got out of the car and started walking towards the diner entrance.

Tyler noticed you as soon as you stepped out. A smile spread across his face, and he stood up, making his way over to greet you. His presence, confident yet warm, made you feel a little more at ease. "Hey there," he said, his voice cheerful. "Glad you could make it."

You smiled back, feeling a bit shy but pleased by his warm greeting. "Hey, Tyler. Thanks for inviting me."

He tipped his hat slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Ready for some breakfast tacos?"

You nodded, the excitement bubbling up again. "Absolutely."

He extended his arm in a gentlemanly gesture, and you walked together into the diner, feeling a sense of anticipation for what the morning would bring.

As you both settled into your seats and placed your orders, the conversation began to flow more easily. Tyler started by sharing a bit about his life on the road.

"You wouldn't believe some of the things we see out there," Tyler said with a chuckle. "Just last month, we were chasing a storm in Oklahoma, and we ended up in this tiny town with the friendliest people. They insisted we stay for their annual pie-eating contest. I swear I've never eaten so much pie in my life."

You laughed, imagining Tyler in the middle of a pie-eating contest. "Did you win?"

He grinned. "Second place. Turns out, storm chasing doesn't prepare you for competitive eating."

The waitress brought over your breakfast tacos, and you both dug in. The conversation shifted to your life in the small town.

"So, what about you?" Tyler asked between bites. "What do you do when you're not wrangling farm animals?"

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to open up. "Well, I've always loved writing. I used to dream about being an author, maybe even a journalist. But I didn't think I had the way with words to make it a profession. So, I stayed here, helping out on the farm while figuring things out."

Tyler's eyes lit up with interest. "Really? That's awesome. What kind of stuff do you write?"

You felt a bit shy but continued. "Mostly short stories, some poetry. I've started a few novels but never finished them. It's more of a hobby than anything."

"I'd love to read some of your work," Tyler said genuinely. "I bet you're better than you give yourself credit for."

You smiled, appreciating his encouragement. "Maybe someday. What about you? Any hidden talents besides storm chasing and pie-eating?"

Tyler laughed. "Well, I used to be pretty good at rodeo. Did some bull riding back in the day. That's actually how I got into storm chasing. Had a near-miss that made me rethink my life choices. Figured chasing storms was a safer bet than getting thrown off a bull."

You raised an eyebrow playfully. "Safer? Really?"

He shrugged, grinning. "Safer might be the wrong word. More exhilarating, for sure."

As the meal went on, you both shared more stories and laughs. Tyler told you about his favorite storms and close calls, while you talked about your favorite books and the stories you've written. The conversation flowed naturally, making you feel more connected with each passing moment.

As the meal went on, you both shared more stories and laughs. Tyler told you about his favorite storms and close calls, while you talked about your favorite books and the stories you've written. The conversation flowed naturally, making you feel more connected with each passing moment.

As the meal began to wind down, you decided to address the check. "You know, Tyler, you paid for my tab last night. I think it's only fair I take care of breakfast."

Tyler shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. "No way. This is on me."

You crossed your arms playfully. "I insist. It's only fair."

He leaned back, smiling. "You're not going to win this one. Southern gentleman, remember?"

You laughed, knowing you were in for a playful argument. "We'll see about that."

As you got up to use the restroom, you shot him a determined look. "Don't you dare pay for this while I'm gone."

Tyler just grinned. While you were away, he motioned to the waitress and handed her his card. "Run the check on this, please. And make it quick."

When you returned from the bathroom, you saw Tyler signing the check, the waitress already having run his card. You threw your hands up in mock frustration. "Tyler!"

He looked up, feigning innocence. "What? Just keeping my promise."

You shook your head, unable to keep from smiling. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Tyler stood up, offering you a hand. "I've been called worse. Ready to get out of here?"

You took his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Yeah, let's go."

As you both left the diner and walked towards your car, a sense of reluctance settled over you. The breakfast had been delightful, and the conversation had made you wish the morning could last longer. Despite your enjoyment, you knew Tyler likely had other commitments, maybe a storm to chase or something equally urgent.

You reached your car and turned to him, trying to mask your disappointment. "Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," you said with a small smile. "Thanks for breakfast, Tyler. It was really nice."

Tyler smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I had a great time too."

You hesitated for a moment, then added, "Can I give you a hug before you go?"

Tyler's expression softened, and he looked like he was about to respond when he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "You know, instead of saying goodbye now, how about we extend this a little bit? I was thinking..."

You looked at him with curiosity. "Thinking about what?"

He gestured vaguely towards the town. "There's a farmer's market happening today. Maybe we could check it out together? I'm sure it'll be fun. They have all kinds of interesting stalls and food."

Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. "A farmer's market? That sounds great! But I didn't think you'd have time for that."

Tyler shrugged, his grin widening. "I'm a bit of a sucker for local markets. And besides, I'd love to spend more time with you if you're up for it."

You felt a wave of happiness and relief. "I'd love that. Let's go!"

As you both walked towards the farmer's market, the morning sun started to warm the air, making everything seem a little brighter. You chatted excitedly about the different stalls and what you hoped to see, feeling a renewed sense of joy at the unexpected turn of events.

Tyler glanced over at you, his smile reflecting genuine pleasure. "I'm really glad we did this. It's been a while since I've had a chance to just wander around and enjoy the day."

You nodded, sharing his sentiment. "Me too. It's been a while since I've had a morning like this."

As you approached the market, the vibrant colors and lively atmosphere welcomed you both, setting the stage for a perfect continuation of your day together.

As you and Tyler arrived at the farmer's market, you were immediately struck by the vibrant array of colors and the cheerful buzz of activity. Tyler led the way, and you followed eagerly, taking in the sights and sounds around you.

The first stall you stopped at featured an array of beautifully crafted leather goods. Among the collection were journals with intricate, handmade leather covers, each one adorned with unique designs. Your eyes lit up as you perused the selection, your love for writing and books shining through.

Tyler noticed your interest and leaned in to comment, "These are some impressive journals. You look pretty captivated."

You smiled, running your fingers over the soft leather of a journal. "I love these. There's something so special about a handwritten journal, don't you think?"

Tyler nodded. "Definitely. I can see why you'd be drawn to them."

As you continued to browse, you couldn't resist the temptation to pick out a journal that you particularly liked. Tyler watched with a grin, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm.

Next, you wandered over to a stall filled with baked goods and mini pies, the sweet aroma wafting through the air. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of the freshly baked treats displayed before you.

Tyler chuckled as you took in the array of pies. "Looks like you've got a sweet tooth."

You laughed and turned to him, recalling your earlier conversation. "I guess you could say that. Hey, Tyler, want to grab a homemade pie? Remember, we were talking about that last night."

Tyler's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'd be up for that. But only if you promise not to make me share it with Boone."

You playfully nudged him. "Deal. Let's see what they've got."

After choosing a couple of mini pies, you both continued to explore the market, chatting about the different stalls and enjoying the lively atmosphere. The morning sun bathed the market in a warm glow, making everything seem even more inviting.

Tyler and you wandered through the various stalls, each one offering its own unique charm. You found yourself laughing and enjoying the day more than you had anticipated, savoring the simple pleasure of spending time together.

As you and Tyler reached the end of the farmer's market, Tyler noticed a serene little pond with a walking path meandering around it. The water sparkled gently in the morning sun, and the scene was so tranquil that it almost seemed like a hidden gem amid the bustling market.

"Hey," Tyler said, glancing at you with a smile. "How about we take a break and sit on that bench over there? It looks like a nice spot to relax and enjoy the view."

You looked over at the bench by the pond, appreciating the thoughtfulness of the suggestion. "That sounds perfect," you replied.

Tyler led the way to the bench, and you followed, feeling a mix of contentment and anticipation. As you reached the bench and sat down, the gentle breeze from the pond carried the soft scent of blooming flowers, adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Tyler settled beside you, and for a moment, you both simply enjoyed the serene view. The sun's rays danced on the water, and the occasional ripple added a soothing rhythm to the scene. You glanced over at Tyler, who was staring at the water with a thoughtful expression.

"This place is beautiful," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I'm glad we came here."

Tyler turned his head to look at you, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "I'm glad too. It's nice to have a break from the chaos."

As you continued to talk, the conversation naturally slowed, and you found yourselves drawn closer together. Tyler's hand, resting casually on the bench between you, brushed against yours. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

You looked at his hand, then back at him, and found him gazing at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. He shifted slightly, his face inching closer to yours, as if drawn by an invisible force.

Just as you began to feel the electric tension between you, Tyler leaned in, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

But just as his lips were about to meet yours, a loud voice pierced the intimate moment. "Last call for coffee!" the vendor from the market called out, abruptly ending the peaceful bubble you'd been in.

Tyler pulled back slightly, a mix of surprise and disappointment in his eyes. He cleared his throat and gave a sheepish smile. "Guess that's our cue to head out."

You nodded, trying to hide your own disappointment while feeling a flutter of excitement at what almost happened. You stood up from the bench, feeling a bit dazed but happy.

Tyler offered you a hand to help you up. "Shall we?" he asked with a playful grin, and you took it, feeling the warmth of his hand lingering on yours.

As the two of you make your way back towards the parking lot, the sun casts a warm, golden hue over the small town. The conversation flows easily between you, and Tyler's thumb gently rubs the back of your hand, making your heart flutter. The connection between you feels natural and comforting.

When you reach your car, you turn to Tyler with a hint of disappointment. "I guess this is where we say goodbye," you say softly, trying to keep the sadness out of your voice.

Tyler looks at you with a mix of regret and curiosity. "Do you have any big plans for the rest of the day?" he asks.

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. "I've got to head over to the farm and help with some animal chores. You're welcome to come by if you want."

Tyler's eyes light up at the invitation, but his phone rings, breaking the moment. He glances at the screen and sighs. "It's my crew," he says, sounding conflicted. "There's a new storm system forming, and we need to chase it."

You can see the internal struggle on his face, and you give him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I understand how important this is to you. Go do what you need to do."

Tyler hesitates for a moment before nodding, his expression showing how much he wishes he could stay. "I promise I'll come back to visit once the storm's passed."

You both linger for a moment, the goodbye feeling more significant than you'd expected. Tyler gently takes your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

You give him a playful grin. "You missed."

Tyler's eyes widen slightly, and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, clearly intrigued by your boldness. Leaning in, he meets your lips with his in a tender, lingering kiss. It's as if time stands still, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When you finally pull apart, Tyler's gaze remains locked on yours, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "I'll be counting the hours until I see you again," he murmurs.

With a final, meaningful look, you both part ways, each carrying the warmth of the kiss and the promise of a reunion.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

HIII BFFF!!!🤗🤗 i hope u are well!!!

sorry for not being active 😣😣 a gal has been booked and BUSY. but hopefully i’ll have some more free time soon 🙏🙏

i was going to write something like this… howeverrrr i have a lot of ideas already & i think you can do a really good job with this!!!

but basically you can pick either josh or tyler & the reader is a pop rock kinda artist & tyler/josh have always admired her from afar. so they invite the reader to open for them on tour. there’s some romantic tension & reader plays a song dedicated to tyler/josh & the fans r all 😮😮😮

something like that!!!! you can do whatever with it, i think there’s a lot of directions you can take this:3

p.s how are you feeling abt getting a LIVE ALBUM… still in shock.

Smithereens - Tyler Joseph x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Nothing hehe

Word Count: 3648 - pretty sure this is officially the longest fic I've written and posted on here :)

A/N: OH MA GAWD THIS WAS FUN AF FREN... this is so freaking cute I can't even deal with it! I'm in massive shock at the fact we're getting a live album btw my show isn't even until November and things just keep getting better and better with the tour lol I can't believe we're getting some of the transitions like natn to hds like WHAT THE WOW oh and the possibility of hometown x slowtown (um slowtown on streaming???? Tyler the man u ur–and josh bc ily). I cannot wait. oh and heathens into next semester... I'm so excited bc the setlist is so good it's gonna rock and be on repeat forever. Anyways, enough rambling onto the amazing fic I am incredibly proud of! 😁

“What!” I barked into my phone, rubbing my eyes until my vision went from blurry to clear. It had been a crazy night before, staying up late partying with my friends before falling to sleep at 3am. What had woken me up was a series of buzzing noises from my phone, buzz after buzz after buzz until it started ringing. 

“Y/N? It’s Mary.” Shit. My manager. 

“Oh! Sorry! It was a hectic night,” I laughed, running a hand through my hair. 

Her laugh echoed through the speakers of my phone. “So I’ve heard. It’s all over social media.” I shook my head, knowing exactly who had posted what to their thousands of followers. 

“What’s up?” I asked, flopping down onto my perfectly plump pillows. 

“I’ve booked you a tour!” I could tell she was ecstatic, even more so that I was. We’d been hoping to book a tour for the last year and a half and finally we’d done it. It was hard trying to find bands or musicians who were open to having newer and alternative artists open for them–especially someone whose genre is somewhat all over the place. 

“What?” I shot up in bed, wide awake now, the sleepiness immediately replaced by a rush of excitement and nerves. “With who?”

Mary hesitated for a moment, letting the anticipation build. “Well... how do you feel about opening for Twenty One Pilots?”

My heart practically leapt out of my chest. Twenty One Pilots? As in Josh Dun and Tyler Joseph? I’d always admired them, like... from afar. Sure, we’d crossed paths a few times at festivals and award shows, but nothing like this. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if they’d heard of me before.

“You’re kidding,” I breathed out, my voice barely a whisper.

“Not at all,” she replied, her tone giddy with excitement for me. “They specifically asked for you. Apparently, Tyler’s been a big fan of your music for a while. This could be huge, Y/N.”

I could hardly process it. “Wait… they asked for me? Tyler listens to my music? Sorry WHAT?!” Tyler Joseph? A fan of my music? It felt unreal. “I—” I stammered, feeling overwhelmed. “When does it start?”

“Next month. But you’re going to need to rehearse like crazy to get ready.”

“I’ll be ready.” I hung up the phone and collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. I was going on tour with Twenty One Pilots. Tyler and Josh. The guys I had admired for years were now... going to be watching me from backstage? I felt a shiver of nervous energy run down my spine.

A few weeks later, rehearsals were in full swing, and I was gearing up for the first show. 

“Y/N! They’re here!” My friend Joseph had screeched running into the rehearsal space. “No way.” I covered my mouth to try and hide the growing psychotic smile on my face. I was going to pass out from excitement. This wasn’t happening. I turned to the entrance to see the two of them strutting in, shaking the hands and bumping the fists of crew members they both knew and didn’t know. My heart was pounding as I watched them walk in, every movement somehow both casual and magnetic. Josh, with his surprisingly natural brown hair and classic easy smile, waved at a few familiar faces, while Tyler, wearing his usual baseball cap and oversized hoodie, exuded that quiet intensity I’d always admired. They looked like they belonged, like they owned the room without even trying. And here I was, standing in the middle of the rehearsal space, trying not to lose my cool.

Joseph was practically vibrating with excitement beside me, nudging me with his elbow. “Dude, go say hi!” he whispered, eyes wide.

“I-I can’t. Look at them,” I replied, clenching my jaw through every world to hide my delusion.

I swallowed hard, my palms already sweaty. What was I supposed to say? Hey, I'm Y/N, a rando who's admired you from afar for years? Oh, and thanks for asking me to open for you on tour, no big deal.

Before I could overthink it any more, Tyler's eyes landed on me. My breath hitched as he gave me a nod and a small smile, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my pulse race. He elbowed Josh, who turned and followed his gaze.

“Oh man, it’s her!” Josh said, grinning as they walked over. Sorry, what? 

“Y/N, right?” Tyler said, his voice warm but somehow deeper in person.

I turned to look around the room as if trying to figure out if he was talking to me or not. “Uh… yeah?” I said, it came out more like a question than an answer. “Yeah, that's me,” I repeated, trying to sound casual even though my heart was doing backflips. “Thanks for, uh... asking me to open for you guys. It's an honor.”

Tyler exchanged a glance with Josh, something unspoken passing between them. “We’ve been following your music for a while now,” Tyler admitted, rubbing the back of his neck like he was just as unsure of what to say as I was. “You–You’re really talented.”

I blinked, trying to process the fact that Tyler Joseph just said that to me. “Thanks. That means a lot, really.”

“We’re stoked to have you on board,” Josh chimed in, flashing that friendly, easygoing smile. “I think the fans are gonna lose it when they see you perform.”

“Yeah,” Tyler added, his eyes meeting mine again. “It's gonna be a good tour.”

There was something in the way he said it, the weight behind his words, that made my skin tingle. I felt that spark again, the same one I’d felt from watching him in interviews and onstage, but this time it was real. Tangible. 

Over the next few days, I kept catching Tyler’s eyes during rehearsals, our conversations short but loaded with something unspoken. It was subtle—just the way his gaze lingered a little too long, or how his smile felt more personal when it was directed at me. I wasn’t sure if I was crazy–my immense crush on the multi-talented lead singer getting the best of me–or if he had noticed the same thing. The energy between us felt electric, charged with something we weren’t quite saying out loud.

One evening, after my home city show, I was sitting out on the stage–the venue completely empty. I was alone, staring out at the abandoned seats and floor, still able to feel the energy from less than a few hours ago. Letting out a deep sigh, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Tyler standing there, hands in his hoodie pockets, his expression unreadable.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked softly.

I shook my head, patting the spot beside me. “Not at all.”

He sat down, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the proximity making my heart race. We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the faint hum of the venue’s equipment the only sound. I could feel his eyes on me as I picked up my ukulele which was sitting next to me and started absentmindedly strumming a few chords.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier,” Tyler started, his voice quiet, like he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal. “But… your performance today? It was incredible.”

I glanced over at him, biting back a smile. “I didn’t know you were watching.”

“I’m always watching,” he said, his gaze intense, sending a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at me. “I’m trying… I’m so worried that I’m gonna mess up and make a fool of myself in front of your fans.”

“You’re not and you won’t,” he said quickly, his eyes searching mine. “Far from it, actually. Last time I checked twitter they were talking about how much they love you.”

We fell into another heavy silence, the air between us thick with tension. My pulse was racing, and I felt like there were a million things I wanted to say, but none of them made sense in my head. Tyler shifted slightly, his knee brushing against mine, and even that small touch sent sparks through me.

“Is it weird,” I started slowly, my voice fragile, “that I feel like I’ve known you for longer than I have?” 

The question clearly caught him off guard. His breath hitched, but I forced myself to stay calm. “No, it’s not weird,” he said, glancing down at the floor. “I feel that way too.” Tyler smiled, a small, almost shy smile that made my heart flutter. 

“It’s just… I’ve been following your music for so long, and now that you’re here… I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitated, his eyes flicking to my lips for just a second before I answered. “Better. Way better than I imagined.”

The air between us felt charged, like something was about to happen, but neither of us made the next move. I could feel the weight of his words settling into the space between us, making everything feel more real, more intense.

I had to break the tension before it swallowed me whole.

“Speaking of better,” I said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to mask the shakiness in my voice. “I was thinking of doing something special for tomorrow’s show.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, curious. “What’s that?”

I glanced at him, feeling a rush of boldness as the idea solidified in my mind. “I was thinking… I’d cover one of your songs.”

His eyes widened, clearly surprised. “You’d cover one of our songs?”

“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip nervously.

Tyler blinked, taken aback, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far. But then his expression softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Which song?” he smirked, laying back on the stage.

“Something off Trench, it’s not on your setlist if that’s what you’re worried about,” I laughed, joining him. 

“Why?” he asked, his voice low, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what I was about to admit. “Because it’s personal. And I’ve listened to your music for so long. It’s always been a dream of mine to get to perform one of your songs live.”

For a second, the world seemed to stop. Tyler’s smile faded, replaced by something deeper, something I couldn’t quite read. His eyes searched mine, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, waiting for his response.

“You… you’d really do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady even though my nerves were all over the place. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just kept looking at me like he was trying to figure something out. Then, finally, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that made my breath catch.

“It’s more than okay,” he said softly. “I think it’s… perfect.”

The tension between us didn’t break; if anything, it intensified. But it was different now, like we’d crossed some invisible line, and there was no going back.

The next night, the arena was buzzing with energy. I could feel the excitement in the air as I took the stage, the fans screaming and cheering, completely unaware of the surprise I had in store.

After a few songs, I paused, taking a deep breath as I stepped up to the mic. The crowd quieted, waiting for what was next.

“How’re we doing tonight Seattle?” A roar of screams and cheers rang through the venue. “I’ve got a little surprise for you guys tonight," I said, my voice echoing through the speakers. “I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to do a cover of a song that means so much to me. A song that a certain band didn’t put on their setlist this tour. Any guesses who I’m covering?” I laughed. 

The crowd erupted into cheers, and I smiled, glancing toward the side of the stage where Tyler stood, watching me. Our eyes met, and I felt that familiar spark, the unspoken connection between us stronger than ever. 

“You want to come up and play piano for this one Ty?” I asked, the crowd erupting in cheers. Tyler shook his head, hiding his face in his hands. “No? Oh come on, you know you want to. The sheet music’s up there…” I turned to the audience, “I haven’t told him what song I’m playing yet,” I laughed. “You sure you don’t wanna come play?” The fans started chanting for him to join me. 

“Tyler! Tyler! Tyler!” 

“Oh fine!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the crowd. He climbed on stage and jogged over to the piano, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. “You're really doing this, huh?” he teased as he adjusted the mic on the piano, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh. I walked over to him, turning the mic off for a second. 

I grinned lightly as the energy of the crowd buzzed in the air. “Oh, I am definitely doing this. And you’re gonna enjoy it.”

Tyler's hands hovered over the keys, clearly waiting for the cue. “Smithereens? Really?” he laughed and I nodded, proud of myself. Tyler turned the mic back on as I waltzed back to my spot. 

“Alright,” I said, glancing over at him. “This one’s for you Tyler.” 

The crowd went wild, their reaction so loud it almost drowned out my words. Tyler chuckled into the mic, shaking his head again in disbelief, but his fingers were already on the keys, playing the opening melody. The soft, familiar notes filled the arena, and my heart started racing again, but for a different reason this time. This was personal. Intimate. And Tyler was right there, playing along with me.

I began singing, my voice steady but carrying all the emotion I had for the moment. I looked over at Tyler as I sang the words, and he glanced up, meeting my gaze for just a heartbeat. There was something in his eyes—something deeper than just admiration, something almost vulnerable. My chest tightened as I sang the next line, the weight of the song suddenly feeling more significant, more real than ever. 

Tyler’s playing was flawless, but there was a hint of tension in his posture, like he was trying to keep something in check. I knew exactly how he felt; the energy between us was palpable, the tension from all those unspoken moments finally reaching a crescendo. The crowd sang along, but it was like they were in the background, as if this performance was happening in our own bubble. Just me and Tyler. 

Every word felt like it was meant for him, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him between the lyrics, feeling the connection spark every time our eyes met. When I hit the chorus, the crowd sang so loud I almost couldn’t hear myself. Tyler grinned, his fingers dancing over the keys, the music swelling around us, and for a second, I forgot we were even on stage. It was just him and me, sharing this raw, unfiltered moment. 

As the song came to a close, the final notes ringing out, I turned to face Tyler fully. His gaze was locked on mine, his expression unreadable but intense. The applause and cheers from the audience roared to life, but I barely heard them. Tyler stood up from the piano, slowly walking over to me, and without thinking, I pulled him into a tight hug. The crowd went wild again, their cheers reaching a fever pitch, but it was just background noise to the heartbeat pounding in my ears.

As Tyler wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded into the background—the roar of the crowd turned into a distant hum as I buried my face in his shoulder, savoring the moment. His warmth enveloped me, grounding me in the excitement and emotion of what we had just shared.

When we finally pulled back, Tyler kept his hands on my shoulders, his gaze holding mine for just a moment longer than necessary. A shy, yet genuine smile played on his lips, and my heart fluttered. I could feel my cheeks heating up, but I couldn't look away from him.

“Thank you for that,” Tyler said, his voice low but filled with an intensity that made my heart race. “You were incredible.”

I nodded, still breathless. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I didn’t just like it Y/N, it means more than just liking it,” he whispered into my ear. 

The energy in the venue surged as I turned to the audience, their cheers echoing through the air. With a grin, I stepped back to the mic, trying to compose myself. “Wow, thank you, Seattle! You guys have been amazing tonight!” The crowd roared, and I took a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“This is the end of my set, but stick around because the real show is about to start! Twenty One Pilots is up next!” I waved to the fans, their cheers drowning out my words. “Thank you all so much! I love you!”

As I stepped away from the mic, Tyler clapped a hand on my back, leading me off stage. The moment we were out of view from the audience, the energy shifted. Tyler turned to me, his expression more serious, and I could see a mix of admiration and something deeper in his eyes.

“You made that song come alive in a way I never expected. You’re something else aren’t you?” he said, stepping closer, the air thick with unspoken words. 

I chuckled, shrugging slightly and running a hand through my hair. “I just felt right to play,” I admitted, heart pounding. “It means a lot to me, Tyler.”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper. “You’re more than just a talented artist, Y/N. You’re something else entirely. That performance made me realize how lucky I am to have you on this tour. And honestly?” He paused, searching my eyes, the tension palpable. “It just further confirmed how I feel about you, not just as an artist, but as a person.”

My breath caught in my throat, a rush of warmth flooding through me at his words. “I admire you too, Tyler. You and Josh have been a huge inspiration to me.”

Tyler smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made my heart race. “No, really. That was more than just a performance to me. It felt personal. There’s something here, between us.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I took a step closer to him. “I feel it too. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it.”

He brushed a thumb over my cheek, his gaze unwavering. “Then let’s not overthink it. I’m here, you’re here, we clearly both feel something for each other,” he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear. “Every time you look at me, it’s like you see straight through to my soul.”

I swallowed hard, his words washing over me. “I could say the same about you.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice deepening. “Because I want to explore whatever this is between us. I want to see where it leads.”

With the distance between us closing, I felt the thrill of the moment, the intensity of his words and the warmth of his presence enveloping me. I wanted to lean in, to let him know just how much I felt, but the excitement and nervousness tangled together in a way that made me hesitant.

Tyler stepped forward, closing the gap even further. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve got to know that every word of that song was a reflection of how I feel about you. It might not have been written with anyone in mind but it’s exactly how I feel about you. And I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you how much you mean to me.”

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, sending sparks of electricity through my entire being. The kiss was soft, yet filled with an undeniable passion, and in that moment, everything else faded away. All the worries, the nerves—everything was drowned out by the intensity of his kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, he smiled down at me, his expression both playful and serious. “I think I’m going to enjoy this tour a lot more now.”

I laughed, the tension lifting as I felt lighter, happier than I had in a long time. “Me too, Tyler. Me too.” I held onto his hand, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand. “Now, you’re supposed to go on in 10 minutes so you should probably go find Josh.”

“Oh damn you’re right,” he looked up at the clock on the wall noticing the time. He started down the hall in the direction of their dressing room but stopped to turn back towards me. “I–We–We’re going out after the show, okay?” 

I nodded, letting out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll come find you. But you really need to go,” I smiled. 

“I really need to go,” he repeated, looking slightly sad that he had to leave. And with that, he walked back into his dressing room, the excitement of the night still crackling in the air. 

//

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