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undreaming-fanfiction · 9 months ago

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With This Ring (11)

Chapter 10 here, Ao3 here

They met Dart and Ozzy in front of the Buckley house. The elderly cat just announced that everything was in order, and that he was too old for all this excitement. “I’m going to take a nap home before Dustin organizes a search party for me,” he yawned. “Ozzy will stay with you. I’ll come to check on you around lunchtime, so no more scandals and escapades, please.”

Eddie crouched to scratch his head as a thank you. “Sleep well, Dart.” He then picked up Ozzy and safely stashed him in his usual pocket.

Robin’s house was, as always, peaceful. The sight of the imperfect garden made to be used, not just viewed, the peeling window paint, the weird gnome statuettes peeking from random corners, it all made Steve feel more at home than he’d ever been in his own house. The woods by the back window were dark and quiet. If they were careful, they wouldn’t be heard or seen by anyone.

The whole house was dark too. Steve was confused, Robin should have been home, but maybe she had a sleepover with Nancy, you know, to console her friend after the groom had disappeared. He hoped that was the case.

Eddie was eyeing the colorful front door. “Do you want me to break in? If you have a hairpin or something like that, I’m like ninety percent confident I could pick the lock.”

Steve laughed out loud. “While it sounds absolutely charming, we’re trying to look inconspicous. Let’s go for the boring solution instead.” With that, he reached under the ugliest gnome statuette - it had amanitas growing out of its beard, why? - and produced the key.

“You really know how to show a guy a good time,” grumbled Eddie, but followed him through the door anyway.

Not even an hour later, they were ready to start recording. Steve brewed a huge pot of coffee to keep him awake. He didn’t think he could sleep anyway, but Eddie was giving him secret guilty looks at every suppressed yawn, even suggesting Steve could take a nap, that Eddie would keep watch, no worries. “I haven’t slept in a year, so I didn’t realize,” he muttered through a strand of hair he was chewing on. “I don’t want you fainting mid-song, and that couch looks comfy enough, so how about it?”

Steve just gave him a blank stare and downed a massive mug of coffee in one go, almost burning his tongue on it. As if he’d waste a single second he could spend with Eddie.

Their setup was small, but Steve thought it didn’t need anything else. The beauty of Eddie’s music was that it didn’t require a huge band or an orchestra to pull on the listener’s heartstrings. Eddie didn’t have any formal musical education, he didn’t know all the fancy words like legato, crescendo or forte. But he had a feel for music so great that even his high school music teacher who otherwise hated his guts had to admit he had potential.

When they were still allowed to meet, younger, enamored with music and each other’s company, Eddie would hum his melodies, usually choosing the acoustic guitar to carry the main tune. He kept playing them over and over again, giving Steve space to experiment with potential accompaniments. He only occasionally took over the piano and gave instructions such as “I thought this part could use a bit more force, you know. I’ll go quieter on the guitar, and the piano will become the main instrument until the next verse, what do you think? It should be something like a dialogue between the two instruments. Imagine I’m rambling, and you really want to say something, so you start speaking at the same time and going louder and louder, hoping I’ll get the drift and shut up.”

He trusted Steve with this work, and Steve was so grateful. He vowed never to disappoint Eddie, and to that day he hoped he hadn’t, at least not when it came to music.

As he sat down at the piano, he gently stroked the familiar keys. His eyes were burning again. He’d prayed for the day when he’d be able to do this with Eddie again, only to realize that this would be the last time they’d ever play together.

Eddie had just finished tuning the guitar to his liking. He shifted on the stool to face Steve and smiled. “I missed this, you know.”

Steve returned the smile as well as he could. “Me too. It hadn’t been the same without you.”

Shrugging, Eddie ran his fingers across the strings, stretching and adjusting his grip. “Eh, I think you were doing just fine without me. I liked your adjustments to the chorus of “Remains of the day”, they make it sound a bit more playful. The original sound was a bit too creepy.”

His tone was flat, as if it was just a simple observation. But Steve’s hands stilled over the keyboard, staring at Eddie with mouth wide open. “How…” he choked out, “...how do you know? I made them only a few months back. You’ve never...I mean, you were already-”

“Steve.” There was no malice in Eddie’s words, but his smile faltered. It was still there, yet somehow sad. “Are you telling me you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

The dead man pointed towards the dark trees behind the window glass. “Where this window leads.”

Steve’s eyes finally betrayed him. He rapidly blinked, but one tear made it out and rolled down his cheek, between his lips. He tasted the salt as he remembered all the times he’d sat here, playing Eddie’s melodies from memory whenever Nancy and Robin decided to go upstairs to have more privacy.

There wasn’t a single visit when he wouldn’t play them. Steve felt the constant urge to keep repeating them, committing them to memory. He wanted to burn them into his brain so he could never lose a single detail. Maybe one day, when he’d succeeded begging Eddie for his forgiveness, he’d play them for him. He would show Eddie that he never let himself forget, never stopped thinking about him .

He pictured himself sitting there, tens, hundreds of times. The window was usually open to sell the illusion that Robin was playing during their visits. And even in the dark, Steve realized where the narrow path between the trees led - to the small clearing in the woods, to the freshly dug hole in the ground where someone had buried Steve’s heart.

“No way,” he whispered. The taste of salt on his lips didn’t relent, and he didn’t try to control it any longer. “You heard me? You heard me all this time when…?”

Eddie nodded. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to get up, maybe join Steve at the piano, but then he changed his mind. Instead, he started fidgeting with his rings again. “Yeah. Not to inflate your ego, Steve, but oh well. We’ve come this far. You were my main reason for not moving on.”

He huffed a short laugh when Steve gave him a confused, teary-eyed look. “It’s true. I was lying there for a while, and you know how much I hate staying still. I was considering giving up and just moving on for quite a while. But whenever I thought I could give it all up, just forget my dreams and all that was keeping me here, I heard you. It was like a part of me was still up here, waiting to be reclaimed. You were safeguarding my songs, and I of course knew I could never come back, but somehow…I just hoped, Steve. I didn’t think, I just…hope isn’t the correct word. I yearned to come back, that’s it. Because there was someone calling me back every single day.”

Steve’s eyes didn’t leave him for a second. “But everyone down there said…they said that you were playing all the time. Practicing.”

“I did. And it drove me crazy that my own songs didn’t sound right anymore. I tried replicating everything I’d heard from you, but…” Fondness crept into Eddie’s voice, as if he was recalling a precious memory. “It never sounded right. I blamed it on the corpse fingers, the stiffness of dead muscles, but I guess I was lying to myself. Playing these songs by myself just wouldn’t do because you became a part of them. They weren’t complete without you.”

“Eddie…”

Eddie shushed him. “And if you think that I was listening to you just because I had nothing better to do, well, you might be partially right. But also…I’d known you kept playing my songs long before I died, you know. Why do you think I was in the woods the day I died? It’s not like I’m one of those crazy fans of nature who love walking in the woods, getting all muddy and wet and collecting ticks and other bloodsucking creatures. I’d known about your playing for months, Steve. And I…uh.” He pulled a strand of hair in front of his face, hiding his expression. “I actually kept going there a lot. I sat on that tree stump, listening to my, well, our songs. I still hated your guts, but a part of me felt so happy that you seemed to have as much trouble letting me go as I had you.”

Steve was hit with a sudden wave of nausea and numbness. His fingers were still laid on the keyboard, but their feel was now uncertain, foreign. “So you're telling me that all this time it was me?” he whispered. It hurt to even voice his thoughts. “It was me who kept you trapped in that grave? Who…who lured you there to be killed?! If I let you go, you could have had peace. You…you could have even lived! Eddie, I don’t even know how to begin to say how sorry I am. Nothing I say will ever be enough.” Steve withdrew his hands from the piano, wrapping them around his body. “You gave me so much and I…I made things worse every single time. I caused this. All of this.”

He didn’t see it when Eddie set down his guitar, but he heard the hollow thunk of it. The clinking of Eddie’s metal chain, the squeaking of his old sneakers, it used to feel so right. But now…

Eddie nudged his side and squeezed next to him onto the wide stool. “Hey, Steve. Let me say something. Sure, we’ve had our not so great moments, with your dad’s blackmail and stuff like that. But, and get your eyes up here, Harrington, I’m being earnest and I demand an audience for it!”

When Steve’s wet eyes found his, Eddie snuck his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him close. Steve leaned into the embrace with a quiet sob, clutching Eddie’s band t-shirt. Eddie didn’t seem to mind. “Apart from the whole protecting me and Wayne through being a dick, you didn’t cause me any pain. Really. You have no idea how much our friendship meant to me.”

Steve’s face was buried in Eddie’s jacket, but he still managed to produce a “huh?” sound.

“It did. When I moved here, I didn’t know anyone, and Wayne was trying to figure out how to make it work with the plant shifts and stuff. I was bullied all the time, I wasn’t much of a looker without my hair. So I just thought I’d spend all the time until my graduation keeping to myself, which was lonely as hell. The music room helped. And then one day…a pretty boy who had to have tens of friends approached me and asked me to teach him. I felt so lucky.”

Steve still wouldn’t show his face, but his arms around Eddie’s waist tightened. “Pretty sure it was me who was lucky. You changed my life.”

Eddie squeezed his shoulders, cradling Steve close. “Shush. This is my life changing story, get your own. For some reason, that pretty boy chose me. Even though I was mostly flying through the playing and teaching blind, he kept coming back. Not just that - he actually listened to me. He heard my rambling, all those unrealistic plans, dreams, the outrageous ideas, and he believed in me.”

Steve had finally settled against him, his breathing under control again. Eddie continued. “Do you remember when we started playing together, Steve? I was so freaking anxious because I realized I couldn’t possibly play both instruments at the same time when I finally got to record my stuff. And I couldn’t ask anyone because I couldn’t write or read the stupid sheet music. Still can’t, by the way. But you just sat down at the piano and told me: “Tell me what you need me to play. I’ll do it.” You said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world, to spend all your free afternoons playing what I threw at you. As if you didn’t have anything better, more important to do.”

That finally made Steve stir in Eddie’s arms. He straightened his back and looked Eddie in the eyes, wiping away the rogue tears. “I didn’t. It was the most important thing to me, Eddie. And still is. Likely will always be.”

Eddie wasn’t really thinking, he just reached out and ruffled Steve’s hair. It was so different with all the product in it, but there was a touching familiarity in the gesture. They used to ruffle each other’s hair when Eddie’s finally decided to grow out and looked like a wild nest of curls. “No neat hairstyles in my music class, Harrington! Go wild and go home!” he’d say.

“I’m glad to hear that,” whispered Eddie and god, he wasn’t lying. Being an important part of Steve Harrington’s life was addictive. Intoxicating. “So how about a small practice before we start recording, big boy? I recall you liking that four hand piece we adapted from Back to the Future.” He extended his hand, as if he was asking Steve to dance. “Accompany my beloved nerdy music, my liege?”

Steve beamed at him. “My pleasure, lord Edward,” he said and took his hand.

The night was long and Steve gradually drank the whole pot of coffee. He couldn’t imagine preferring sleep to this. The moment they both sat down at the piano, it was as if they were two puzzle pieces that belonged together. Something clicked, and Steve felt whole again. Compared to that, sleep was ridiculously overrated.

Not everything went smoothly, of course. Eddie had made some adjustments to the music during their time apart, and it took Steve a while to catch up, to bridge the gaps. They mused and tried out new passages, re-did the old ones, played around with the cassette recorder to get the perfect balance for both instruments. But most of all, they just revisited the past and brought back the best of it.

The recording was supposed to take long hours, but Steve supposed theirs was an exception. After all, what was there to improve on when all of these songs had been cherished, perfected and preserved over many long years? Eddie’s more recent changes made sense to Steve, it was enough to hear them just once, twice, and then they blended into what he’d already known. His ankle still hurt as he used the pedals, but Bob’s bandage kept it fixed in place well enough.

Not all of Eddie’s songs had lyrics, but for the ones that had, Steve admired how Eddie’s voice had grown into them. It was more hoarse and less polished than when they’d practiced the last time, but there was emotion and maturity that the sixteen year old Eddie Munson hadn’t possessed. Now, his voice was perfect.

They only had a few breaks, a bunch for coffee, one for Steve to take a quick shower to make sure he was fully alert, and then one to share a cigarette outside. Eddie complained about not having had a smoke for over a year. Steve got up and reached blindly behind a potted plant to produce a well-concealed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With an awestruck expression, Eddie grasped his hand and squeezed it. “I could just marry you right here, Steve Harrington. Oh wait!” he laughed and wiggled his ringed finger at him. Steve’s heart didn’t beat faster after that, nope, not at all.

Eventually, they saw the sun rise through the trees. They’d just finished going through their final recording, with Eddie’s comments and introductions before each song. Steve squeezed Eddie’s hand. “If that Craig guy doesn’t love it, he has no taste,” he announced. He felt ridiculously proud.

“One can only hope.” Eddie shrugged off his jacket and, after an annoyed squeak, removed Ozzy from the comfort of the chest pocket. “Hey, do you think the Buckleys have some fruit they could spare? Ozzy gets really bitchy when he’s hungry.”

Steve laughed at that and dragged Eddie towards the kitchen. “Don’t we all? Let me just open a window, the air here is horrible.”

Leaving the living room to breathe a little, they made their way to the kitchen’s fruit bowl. “He likes sweet apples,” muttered Eddie as he dug through the neatly arranged pile of produce. “Does this look sweet to you?”

Steve took the apple from him and bit into it. “Yep, sweet. Let me cut it for him.” Noticing Eddie’s confused look, he laughed again. “What, you don’t think Ozzy is important enough to have his own taste tester?”

“I do now.”

Steve switched the kettle on again. It wasn’t that he needed another cup of coffee, but it was morning, and as they say, old habits die hard. He worked fast with the knife, chopping the apple into small cubes. The sound of water boiling was familiar and comforting, and having Eddie by his side in the kitchen when he was preparing breakfast? It could have been the only thing he needed in his life, he thought.

There was a quiet sound behind them, but it got drowned out by the kettle. Maybe a draft from the open window rustled the torn plastic wrap of the tape they used.

“So…” began Eddie, playing with his rings again. “What now? When does the post open?”

“I took one of those padded envelopes with us, and a bunch of stamps my dad had in his office. So if you know the address, we can just pack it and send it through that collection box we passed yesterday. Do you want to add some sort of an introduction, a letter or something?”

Eddie rubbed his temples, sighing. “I should. Let me do that. You have a paper and a pen in that magical bag of yours?”

“Sure do.”

They made their way back to the living room. While Steve served Ozzy a bowl of neatly cut fruit, Eddie sat down to the decorative table and started writing, his tongue sticking out in concentration. “Dear…Craig. I hope…you didn’t forget about me. Here’s…the demo…I promised. You can…do whatever you want…with it, I don’t think I’ll be able…to work on it again. But…if it makes any money…my part goes to Wayne. You know Wayne. And…you won’t be a dick to Wayne, will you?” He paused, tapping his pen against the paper. Then he added: “Thanks for giving me a chance, I appreciate it. Take care…Eddie Munson.”

While he was writing, Steve was carefully walking around the room, cleaning the mess they’d made. He was just picking up the torn plastic wrap and got stuck thinking that it seemed too much? They only opened one tape. It was probably normal and he was just tired. He also swept up the dirt and a bunch of small feathers they must have brought from their smoke break. His father called it a stupid itch, but cleaning gave him a purpose and clarity.

He also tried to nudge Ozzy away from the half-eaten bowl of fruit to clean under him, but the small creature wouldn’t budge. He was splayed on the table and playfully bit into Steve’s finger when he attempted to move him. Message received loud and clear.

As he finished putting the room to its original state, Eddie was already standing by the door, envelope in hand. “Shall we?” he asked.

Steve wanted nothing less than to walk out of that door. It was yet another step towards losing Eddie forever, but it was the right thing to do. “Sure,” he nodded and grabbed the keys. “Ozzy, are you coming?”

The small bat squeaked at him, and while Steve still couldn’t understand what he was saying, the tone was clear. Ozzy was still lying on the table, flat as a pancake, and moving him would probably start another world war.

Eddie patted Steve’s shoulder. “The window is open, he’ll let himself out when he wants to. Plus I’m sure he still has some fruit there. See you later, buddy!”

With an awkward wave at their winged friend, they left Robin’s house and locked the door.

Steve didn’t know what to expect from the rest of his day. Dropping the envelope in the collection box was the only clear point in his future. He remembered staring at the yellow package, at Eddie’s wild handwriting, and he felt an overwhelming urge to tear it out of Eddie’s hands and stomp on it. He wanted to keep Eddie right here with him, tell him that they could actually do better, they could stay for a few days, weeks, months to practice, to improve their work. Maybe people wouldn’t be able to tell Eddie was dead. Maybe he could still achieve his dreams, if only-

But then Eddie dropped the envelope in the box and that potential future, the future where Eddie finally achieved what he’d dreamed of for over a decade, dissolved in front of Steve’s eyes.

From Eddie’s sad smile, his thoughts followed a similar pattern. “It’s going to be okay,” he told Steve, maybe himself too.

Just as they were about to walk back and go collect the stuff they had left at the Buckley house, Steve heard a shout. “You! Steve!”

It wasn’t excited or joyful. Or even angry. Robin’s voice was shaking, and it sounded like she was battling a panic attack.

Steve turned around and hobbled towards her. She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes and was disheveled, even for her standards. “Robin? What’s wrong?”

She sprinted to him and hit his chest, again and again, and it took Steve a moment to realize she was crying. “Where…the fuck…have you been?!” she snapped at him with each hit. “We were so worried! I thought…I…”

Eddie quietly joined them. He didn’t say anything, just observed.

Robin finally stopped hitting him and collapsed against Steve in a forceful hug, burying her face in his chest. “Everything went so wrong, Steve,” she whispered. “So wrong. We weren’t careful enough, Nancy’s dad, he…he found out. He’s furious. He locked Nancy in her room and had his friend’s son keep watch over her window so she wouldn’t escape. He also kept me in their house until he could reach my parents in the morning to tell them how I…” she grimaced, “...how I ruined his daughter.”

Steve was stroking her back, his thoughts racing. “But your parents know. They don’t care, right?”

“They don’t. When he couldn’t get them to be angry about it, he kicked me out of his house. Just now. But Ted fucking Wheeler can’t have a queer daughter.” She was crying even harder now, hands grasping at Steve’s t-shirt. “He told her she’ll get married no matter what. But not to you, because he knows how you covered for us. He doesn’t trust you to fix her.” She spat out the last sentence in helpless anger.

“That guy’s a monster,” Eddie whispered. Steve wholeheartedly agreed.

Robin kept on rambling, and every word she uttered made Steve’s heart sink even more. “She’s still getting married, he made sure to arrange that, and as soon as possible. It’s today…in an hour. He told her that if she doesn’t comply, she’ll be dead to him and will never be allowed to see her siblings again. She loves Mike and Holly, Steve, she couldn’t live without them. She…I think she’s going to go through with it. Maybe she’ll think of something, but I couldn’t get to her, I couldn’t even talk to her, and there is no time, Steve. Nancy is so smart, but I can’t see a way out of this that won’t destroy her life.”

“I’m so sorry, Robs. Robin…” Steve squeezed her shoulders and pulled her away, just to see her face. “Robin. This is important. Who is she marrying?”

Her lip wobbled as she said, “Jason Carver. Apparently his parents are eager to find him a good wife and forget the whole Chrissy fiasco.”

A loud gasp made both Robin and Steve snap out of their misery. Eddie was staring past them, eyes open wide in his shock. “Not him,” he whispered. “Anyone but him.”

Steve turned to Eddie, still keeping an arm around Robin. “Have you met him?” he asked.

“Oh, I have.” Eddie’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “He’s a good Christian boy, that’s for sure. If Wheeler marries him, he’ll never let her go. He knows what life’s supposed to look like, and if she happens to disagree? Tough luck. Especially in Hawkins.”

Robin stared at Eddie and something dawned behind her eyes. “You…Eddie, right? Are you…okay? You don’t seem okay. When did you even come back to Hawkins?”

Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but Steve took both of their hands and tugged them forward to get them moving. “Can you give Robin the short version while we’re walking, Eddie? I’m afraid we’re on a tight schedule. We have a wedding to crash.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I take my sarcasm back, Harrington. You really do know how to show a guy a good time.”

Chapter 12 here

#stevie harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steve x eddie #steddie fanfiction #corpse bride au #corpse groom eddie #with this ring #steddie big bang 2023

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aliasrocket · 1 year ago

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What kind of music do you think rocket would like? We know he likes a lot of quills songs, but can you see him gravitating towards a certain type of music? One of my favorite rocketisms in the movies is his love for music and him singing along to songs (: sorry if this has been asked before !

No no worries!! I love song related qns!

I’m not sure if Quill listens to country pop but it seems Rocket does, as observed in vol 2 when he hums to southern nights (a song I grew to LOVE bc of him btw)

Since Rocket listens to ‘Creep’ and actively sings along to the chorus I feel like he does like songs based on how much it relates to him as well so …

I’m gonna split up songs based on the vibe of Rocket’s music taste and then I’ll get into songs that I think relate to him but also fit the vibe but a little less, I suppose.

First up : Rocket’s music taste.

He’d also definitely be into Arctic Monkeys and some of you may laugh, Harry Styles. I said it. Definitely would dig Queen and The Sukis and some of Mitski’s songs.

Specific songs I feel are up his alley are

Arabella — Arctic Monkeys.

Kiwi — Harry Styles.

Bohemian Rhapsody — Queen.

Animo — The Sukis.

A Pearl. — Mitski.

I could go on but these are some specific songs from each band or artist I suggested, lmk if you’d like more recs bc I find a lot of their songs relate to Rocket as well/have the same vibe with Rocket’s music taste.

Second up : Relatability.

I feel like he would really like Will Wood, especially ‘love me normally’ because of the lines,

“I’d rather be normal, yes so normal, I suggest that we keep this informal, ‘cause a normal human being wouldn’t need to be pretend to be normal, to be normal, well I guess that’s the least that I owe ya, to be normal in way I couldn’t be, c’mon c’mon and love me, normally.”

OH AND PENELOPE SCOTT he’d find penelope scott’s music super cool too, thinking about the song ‘Rät’ and how it sorta relates back to his relationship with H.E ;

“I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill god, they make technology high quality, complex, physiological, experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good”

“They taught me everything just like a daddy should.”

“I studied code because I wanted to do something great lke you.”

“I loved you, I loved you, I loved you it’s true. I wanted to be you and do what you do. I lived here, loved here I bought it’s was true I’m so embarrassed, I feel abused.”

I have a lot more but I don’t wanna ramble on for too long so lmk if you guys want more lmao I love talking about songs!!

#rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #rocket gotg #gotg vol 3 #ask response #ask reply #gotg fanfiction #gotg headcanons #mcu gotg #anon ask #anon asks #.alias.inbox.#.alias.tunes.

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vwritesawholelothm · 2 years ago

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Ten Lines, Ten People

Rules: Share the first 10 lines of your 10 most recently posted fics, and then tag 10 people. I didn't go with exactly 10 lines since how much I should share felt different for each fic, but it's my post so whatever. And I went with 10 recent fics, not the 10 most recent fics due to the fact I'm in Multiamory March rn and that would mess stuff up.

I was tagged by the lovely @mad-elia, so go look at lilies entry first ^-^

“Almost everything you do is unsafe, Darling. At least you have an expert helping you, and a properly trained dragon.”

Bliss

“Oh my god, I forgot you guys are all way too Mormon. Did you not know gay people existed? I think the rest of them know gay people exist.” “No, I didn’t! What’s a gay?” “You, apparently, by how you’re all nervous about this.”

Viva la Gays, Right?

Sparrow, on the other hand, isn't as sweet. He'll only accept a flower if it's shot at him with an arrow, and he calls Daring a dork every time he tries to recite poetry. Instead, the way to his heart is through flattery.

Daring's Affections

“I hate America. Everyone has a gun and three Wasingtonians have threatened to shoot me because I’m on their property so far. That’s how I died the second time, I don’t need that!” “Jack,” Ianto said, voice level over the phone, “you sound American and you have dozens of guns. You do not get to make moral judgments here.” “I’m not making a moral judgment, I’m pointing out how annoying they are.” “Honey, you are also annoying.”

Vampire Hunter

Apple peers through the window, catching sight of a band. Almost all of them are girls, with one guy on the keyboard. He doesn’t catch her interest, though, as she’s too struck by how gorgeous the women in the band are. One has snow-like hair, interrupted by shocks of icy blue. Another one has matching white hair, but in a different style with streaks of pastel pink, matching her rebelliously torn skirt. There’s a girl with hot pink and red mixed into her brown hair, and a fiery, hungry-for-the-world expression plastered across her face. There’s one with a gentle smile, dawning baby blue and playing her instrument with her eyes closed, like she knows the song too intimately to look at it.

You Are Gonna Rock It, Apple! - Chapter 4: Rock Me To The Core

“I miss her, Apple.” “I’m sure.” “Is this what happens to everyone? Bones in the ground that no one thinks about? That get dug up a dozen times? Do we have no life after death?” “Philosophy is for when we’re at school, Raven.”

Ever After Hamlet - Act Five

As is often the case in stories like this, the hero only meets three challenges along her quest. The next figure she meets is her dear Sparrow. But he has obscured himself, his clothes replaced with those of a prisoner and the few items he has stolen. In addition, his time in the woods has changed him. His eyes have a darker look to them, and he’s far from the kept look of most noblemen. As for Cedar, she comes across as a miserable young man, her once perpetually happy face worn tired with grief and longing. Her eyes- those of a widow, while far too young for it to fit. With neither bringing a spark of familiarity to the other, they see each other as they would see any other figure in these woods. As a foe, to be disposed of.

Ballad 150

Good, Martha thinks. She’s no stranger to people getting melted to some degree– she’s seen some weird stuff during her interplanetary travels– but this time it’s deserved. They end up back at Martha’s flat. Kitty’s has been taken back by the landlord, so Martha says that Kitty can crash on her couch as long as she needs. Secretly, Martha hopes it’ll be a while. She hopes it might morph into forever, even, but that part is so secret that she herself doesn’t realize it. Plus, she and Kitty haven’t really solidified into a “something” yet. They’re more of an “almost” for now.

First Kiss

“Listen, you Sparrows and Bluejay have gotten on my nerves for the last time. Tonight you will be given a taste of your own medicine. Again, in trial by combat.” “This is stupid!” “Yeah, this is beep!” “Call it what you want. You all need to chill out.” “Wait,” a cat slinks forward, “are all of the ladies in the stands Cedar?” “Hey!” Bluejay chirps, “my girl is Woodpecker!” The cat defensively puts up his paws and hops backwards. Brooke sighs, “Yes, all of you somehow managed to pull your respective Cedars. How you managed it, I’ll never know.”

Into the Sparrowverse

Serena sits next to him, "You're still upset about that." "I am. But I talked through it with Greninja, and I'll be fine. I just have to ground myself next time I battle." Serena smiles, brushing some snow off of his hair. "You're a lot different from the guy who jumped off Clemont's gym." He shakes his head, "I jumped off a cliff while I was out there to save a Spewpa." "Hm. Maybe jumping off of things to save people is just a core part of who you are, then?"

A Slight Smile

Tagging! @thelivingmemegod @gender-snatched @calebs-hangout-corner @feline17ff @broadwaytheanimatedseries and uhhh @/anyone I don't remember any other URLs at the moment

#writing snips

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screampied · 2 months ago

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hiiiiiiiiiiiii!!! that’s okay, don’t worry, hope you had a wonderful rest 😌

yes, we do match a lot. i really like talking with you because i feel so energetic to just yap and yap and yap. some things happened last night and this morning regarding a mutual i have-used to have and now i’m not in the mood to keep interacting with people. except, obviously, you. i don’t know, some people in here are so…weird. it got me really sad, i almost decided to deactivate, but said fuck them, i’m not in here for people i’m here to post my silly little thoughts about not so little silly men.

sorry for they small personal rant!

ON GOD, my pc is an old fella, and i mainly used the guy for playing the sims. his name is harold, by the way. he did very well on the first month, but boy was getting feed too much CC so he told me to fuck myself and stopped working, what a cunt. i had a beautiful sapphic couple, and one of them got pregnant on accident and i got sad because it’s so boring to have babies and they are so ugly?

nowadays i only watch one streamer and he is from my country, which on any other circumstance i would tell you, but i’m afraid i’m the only person from my country that writes in here for jjk. at least that i know of.

THATS THE REASON I HAVENT YET DOWNLOADED IT 😭 i use my tablet for designing and studying so it would fuck me up real good, and it’s samsung so it glitches so much it pisses me off so bad.

i think you will find out. you see, i really like sending anons to people, but you are the first one i’m consistently sending to the point of having a name (which, btw, i melted with my name on your anons, it’s so cute!!). going back on track, whenever i send i try to make sure it doesn’t look like it’s the real me, but with you i do. as i said, i like talking with you, i feel comfortable, so i just let me be me.

jason is smelly af, just like brahms, you know? but toji jason would smell of that mainly sweat, woods, pines, any type of shit that would probably make me not run away that fast. i don’t have that much of a survival instinct, and if the killer is a almost two meters male i am going nowhere.

wait, ☝️ nutty 🥺 cute.

I THINK YOU SHOULD DO IT, i love crack fics, i love your fics and loser or virgin satoru (both) is so kcjdkdndkekd got me biting my toes off. pls do, like seriously, i think it would be so cool and fresh. also, the name was perfection. satoru really fixes perfectly in the bimbo box, with the b of bitch. one time i described him as if michael scott and mean girls mom had a white haired baby, and i don’t think i’ll ever come across this type of enlightenment again.

OH, QUEEN IS EVERYTHING. i remember how me, being a younger little shit, would hate everything my older sibling liked, and queen got attacked by me. in my defense, whenever they like some band/musician, they listened to it everyday. first it was fun, then panic at the disco, then queen and now elton john. but soon as they skipped to the next fixation, i became obsessed with their oldest one. also, this boy in high school thought he was the shit because he saw the movie and knew the songs, so i was in the chapel (christian school) with him and finished the lyrics to bohemian rhapsody and he goes “omg, you know queen?” BOY I WAS BORN AND MY PARENTS WERE BLASTING IT ON THE ROOM NEXT DOOR, TF. EVERYONE KNOWS QUEEN.

born to die is my ride or die, my favorite from it is this is what makes us girls because it reminds me of my teenage years, but my favorite of them all is young and beautiful, i am obsessed with the great gatsby and my brain chemicals have never survived the scene about daisy and gatsby past.

sabrina seriously is feeding my writing ideas with this new album. bed chem with gojo, juno with nanami, oh…fucking hell. we really are the same person, i love it !!!

i am petrified of tsunamis. they are impossible to happen in my country, but i still have nightmares regarding them and waking up all frightened. once i had one where people went up to the mountains and still it wasn’t enough.

oh… hm, well, i want to say something but i can’t yet. brasil is beautiful, i get it. my dream place to go is anywhere that i can see northern lights. fuck, like, i don’t know how to explain but just the thought of having the chance to stare into the sky and seeing those lights that look like magic makes me want to cry. another country would be chile, in the desert you can see the milky way 🥺 i’m a big astronomy nerd, so that’s just enough to make me happy. you will never catch me saying this on main, but i would enjoy going to the usa so i could eat their high in calories and unnecessary food. there is something about it that grosses me out but also makes me go hmmm.

question for today is what was your first work posted here and what’s your favorite season?

nutty anon.

NUUTTTTY BAE

that’s valid 🤒. interacting w ppl can get overwhelming sometimes so i understand. im glad u didn’t deactivate ‘n ur still here tho <3 but THATSSS THE SPIRIT. noooo ur fine rant as much as you want this is a safe spaceeee xx

ARGGHHH in the meantime you can always watch playthroughs of lads online !!! like you can watch certain scenes n stuff bc im sure ppl recorded that stuff.

of course you’re on my anon list i just had to make u an official squirtling 🤭🤭. IMSO GLAD I MAKE U FEEL COMFY.

stotppppf ur making me have brain rot about jason!toji now, jus imagine the breeding kink, manhandling, he def gets off at rubbing the end of his machete against our cooch.

THANKYOUU 🤒🤒. omg maybe i’ll do it, i love writing silly shit every once in a while bc why not 💔💔💔. that is such a unique compasrasion to satoru i love it

LOVEEEEE QUEEN. i gen wish i was bored in the 80s or even the 70s. the style always has me gagged like ???? i love how a lot of old vintage styles are coming back also. so real 😭. i grew up around a low of heavy metal / rock & indie. ooh i haven’t listened to patd in a min, elton johnnn ugh i still haven’t seen rocketman. SPEAKING OF did u see bohrap? apparently ppl have mixed opinions on it / rami’s portrayal of freddie but i rly liked it 🧎‍♀️

so true i wanna see the northern lights badly. i also wanna visit scotland for some reason? chileeeee that seems like that would be so fun to visit also !!!!! ur an astronomy nerd that’s so cute 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️. PAHAHA same i wanna visit the us too, i’ve never been outside my country but a lot of my moots are from the us and it seems cool. the first state id had to visit would have to be nevada so i can go to las vegas bc hahahah.

my first work i posted was my fantasize, the fwb satoru fic with the silly cliffhanger hehe. its crraaazy how much time its been since nov. ‘23 i still feel so new 🤧. MY FAVVV SEASON is either winter or fall !!!!

#💌 lovetalk.#nut anon #🧁

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1001albumsrated · 5 months ago

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#6: Duke Ellington - Ellington at Newport (1956)

Genre(s): Jazz, Big Band, Swing

There's not much you can say about Ellington that hasn't already been said. He's one of the greatest jazz composers, arrangers, and bandleaders of all time, if not THE greatest. And Live at Newport, without question, is one of the greatest recordings of his long and storied career. So good, in fact, that it brought him and his band back from the brink of forced retirement in the mid-50s. Bebop and smaller ensembles had taken over the jazz scene, and the big bands of the 30s and 40s seemed antiquated in comparison to the fast runs and adventurous harmony of the next wave of jazz (not to mention it's a whole hell of a lot more expensive to cart a big band out around the country). Duke and his band overcame this, not by changing, but by being themselves at their best, and I have immense respect for that.

As for the music itself, again, there's not much new that can be said. The thing that sticks out the most to me in Ellington's recordings is his horn arrangements. His understanding of harmony in a big band setting (or really just in general) was next to none. Every note is meticulously and perfectly placed to both meet and subvert expectations in equal parts. There are a few stylistic elements that sound aesthetically dated to modern ears (the big, cartoonish flutter-tongued sections in the brass come to mind), but the core musical ideas at play are borderline faultless.

But this post has been too damn positive, so it's time for me to bitch about the book again. Remember how the bit about bebop above? The authors of 1001 Albums didn't. It just doesn't exist here. We go straight from big band classics like this to post-bop and modal jazz. No Bird. No Dizz. We, once again, have arrived at a point with no idea of how we got there and no knowledge of the greats that informed the generations of players to come (young jazz musicians still learn by transcribing Charlie Parker solos today!). But thank god we have 3 fucking Frank Sinatra albums (and we won't talk about how many Neil Young and Bob Dylan albums we're going to listen to yet). I'm not even a big bebop guy. But you can't understate the direct and tangible influence it has left on the genre that still can be heard today. This is just a completely embarrassing approach to music writing and really showcases that the authors are rock & pop critics that happen to be aware of jazz, not serious jazz listeners. Also, while I'm complaining, where in Christ's name is Louis Armstrong? Y'know, the most legendary jazz musician of all time? And like with bebop, I'm not a big Louis Armstrong listener, but good god man it's essential listening for a reason. The lack of Louis in particular is a common complaint with the book so I won't belabor the point, but it would be beyond remiss not to mention it. Oh, and some Fletcher Henderson would have been nice. Fuck. Can't have shit in Detroit, motherfuckers stole my jazz classics.

Ok I'm done now. Anyways, Ellington is great. This album is great. MUST you listen to it? Do you have ears? Does the Pope shit in the woods? Yes, you should listen to Ellington at Newport.

If you're the sort of lonely nerd who wants to know how I listened to Ellington at Newport, I listened in hi-res on Qobuz. I don't know how I don't own this already, but I went looking and couldn't find it so I guess I need to grab a copy next time I see one. Another lonely nerd note: I listened to the original album for this, not the complete show. The complete show is great, but the authors specifically are rating the original tracklisting when they're ranking and discussing albums, so I'll stick to that format and will avoid expanded editions, bonus tracks, complete sessions, etc.

And that's all for now! Next up: ol' blue eyes gets a little less sentimental than before with Sinatra's upbeat classic Songs for Swingin' Lovers. I was a bit harsh on the last Sinatra joint, but only time (and one post) will tell how I feel about the next one 😉

#1001 albums #1001 albums you must hear before you die #1001albumsrated #album review #now spinning #jazz #Duke Ellington #Ellington at Newport #big band #swing

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months ago

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HSHSHSHJD I know I already have another ask in ur inbox but I’m just. Super curious rn and I NEED to hear ur take because I trust you will give the best answer ever but. What music do u think stsg listen to? I know teen sugu listening to mitski has been talked about…. But….. what else !! Me personally I see gojo (teen and adult versions) being a biggg Bruno mars fan…. Occasionally listening to gaga…. Maybe some Beyoncé… Katy perry… you get the vibes :3 very upbeat songs that u can just vibe to I think. But DARE I SAY I think gojo would enjoy listening to songs from musicals. At first I think he would be like “musicals??? U mean like theatre??? Boring🤨🤨” (< envisioned teen gojo saying this all arrogant and cocky my little loser <333) but then you catch him screaming the lyrics to some Hamilton song when nobody else is around. He was trying to be cool infront of sugu okay. (He’s my little meowmeow) BUTTTT also. Aside from listening to sadgirl themed music (Mitski, laufey, pheobe Bridgers, etc etc) I feel like suguru would like “older” bands a bit? I know you mentioned him reading classics so it made me think. Maybe a bit of the smiths, the cure, etc…. Part of me wants to say he might listen to modern baseball but. Sigh,… would that be a controversial take chat….. is that just me projecting….. What do u think!!! This got way too long don’t look at me…. Curls into a ball in the corner of the room — stsg anon \(^ヮ^)/

STSG ANON MY DEAREST <3333 i put a bunch of cushions in the corner so you can curl up comfortably!! make yourself at home :3

goshhhh literally every single one of these are so real……… 😵‍💫😵‍💫 gojo listening to upbeat pop music so true, sugu listening to The Classics SO true……. i think he’d absolutely loveeeeee the smiths oh my god. he’s also 100% the type to wear those white tees w some band cover on the front…. oversized and a lil faded….. he’s so babygirl <3333 AND MODERN BASEBALL GODDDD YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG i always think of him and toru when i listen to tears over beers :((( he would love them…. also can i just say . the mountain goats 👉👈 the front bottoms 👉👈 sugu loves them all !!!

with that being said . SOOOOO REAL SO TRUE SATORU WOULD BE A MUSICAL LOVER THERE’S NO DOUBT IN MY MIND …… technically i KNOW he’s more of a stem kid but in my heart he’s a theatre kid. it just makes sense. AND OFC YOU GET IT STSG ANON ……. ohhh he would love singing along 😔😔 he wouldn’t be able to help himself!!! i feel like he’s sort of embarrassed abt it in high school (”he was trying to be cool in front of suguru” CANON BTW!!!), but when he’s all grown up? COMPLETELY unabashed. he loves musicals so much. his favorite would 100% be the legally blonde musical no i don’t take criticism…. he stans elle woods as he should!! also plays the songs on repeat loudly and it irritates everyone else <33

sadly i feel like sugu would be the boring type :/// who doesn’t like musicals ://////// very disappointing but that’s just who he is . satoru would make him see the light though!!! i can see suguru really enjoying my personal favorite musical of all time…. the guy who didn’t like musicals (WATCH IT IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY IT’S SO GOOD IT CHANGED MY LIFE 😔😔😔) <333 bc of the meta commentary!! and i think he’d like the humour too. usually he just indulges satoru in whatever musical he forces him to watch but when they watch it he genuinely chuckles a couple times and looks interested so satoru gets SO hyped …… cuties

as you can tell i’m Normal abt musicals (i love them so much i would die without them) BUT ANYWAYYY your asks can never be too long stsg anon…. pls don’t worry….. you could write a whole essay and i would simply eat it up <33 THIS WAS SO FUN TO THINK ABT AND I AGREE W ALL YOUR PICKS!!!!

#sugu our pretentious little guy <33 #he’s 100% the type to judge your music taste but he does so silently #and you can’t even get back at him bc sadly… his taste is genuinely really good 😞#WAITTTTT FORGOT TO MENTION #TWO DOOR CINEMA CLUB #gege literally assigned him come back home as a theme song….. there’s no way he doesn’t listen to them #on that note!! gojo listens to avicii <3 #ok i’m getting carried away pdhdjdj #in conclusion: so real so true stsg anon!!!!!!#ask tag ✩#stsg anon !! ✩

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years ago

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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Ten (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.5K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: Welcome back everyone to this weeks chapter. We're barrelling towards the end of this fic here so I just want to say a big thank you to all of you who stick around every week and leave your wonderful comments. At the rate I'm going I reckon there'll be 13 chapters in total but maybe I might add a little epilogue thing if you guys wanted. I do love a good epilogue. On a serious note, what do you guys honestly think of my writing? I'm always looking to improve so if you have any notes on my writing style that you think I could work on could you please comment them? I think a big flaw of mine is that my pacing is slow. What do you guys think? As always, I love you all 🥰

The semi-finals of Fort Wayne’s Battle of the Bands saw the competition’s only female contestants advancing to the finals along with Corroded Coffin. Last week’s round saw outstanding performances from both bands with Corroded Coffin’s original song ‘Nicotine’ opening the show and certainly setting a high standard to compete with. This was followed up strongly with original song ‘Songs I Can’t Listen To’ by the girl group whose electrifying guitar solo and captivating lyrics secured them a spot in the competition’s final round.

Both original songs shared a similar theme of heartbreak and failed relationships with Corroded Coffin’s lead singer Eddie Munson dedicating the song to a mysterious lost love. With both bands hailing from the small town of Hawkins, Indiana, and with girl group’s lead singer Y/N L/N performing with Munson’s signature guitar this week, audiences were left wondering whether these contestants might have a deeper connection than initially thought.

Hiding from Eddie Munson was much harder than one might expect.

You thought that your abrupt exit from the carpark at the competition would have been enough to convey the message that you did not want to see him. At the very least, your friends’ reiterations of the sentiments should have delivered the message clearly enough. And yet as much as you hated the sight of him, as much as you dreaded the sound of his voice or the smell of his cheap cologne that seemed to haunt you wherever you went, you had to admit that the boy was remarkably persistent.

The first time he had tried to talk to you since the last round of the competition you had been working. You hadn’t even seen him, too busy with whatever task you had been preoccupied with when Meg had quite unceremoniously pushed you into the storeroom without so much as a warning. It had been his voice that had alerted you to his presence, soft and tentative and altogether quite hesitant as he had approached Meg by the counter, not an easy feat considering the death glare she was undoubtedly sporting.

“Is she here?” you had heard him say, and even just the one statement had had your heart yearning to see him again. But you stayed where you were, not daring to even move as your ear remained firmly pressed up against the wood of the door.

“Even if she were, I wouldn’t tell you,” Meg had responded venomously.

He had not prompted further. Instead, with a defeated sigh, his footsteps had begun retreating until the bell had chimed above the door upon his exit.

Several days and several successfully dodged encounters with Eddie Munson later, you entered Family Video with a sigh, a copy of The Breakfast Club tucked under your arm.

“You know I can’t keep waiving these late fees every time you feel like rewatching a film eighteen times,” Steve called out to you.

“Well then what’s the point of having friends who work at a video store?” you said back, offering him a small smile. You handed him the tape as Robin emerged from the backroom, and upon seeing you, she skipped the distance over to the counter and leaned down upon it.

“Really, Y/N? The Breakfast Club again?” Robin said with a groan.

“I’m returning it, thank you very much.”

“Sure,” Robin said with a wide roll of her eyes. “Did you see the article?”

You groaned, bringing your head down to bang it lightly upon the desk.

“Yes. And now the whole of Indiana knows about my dating history.”

“No offence, Y/N,” Steve said. “But I can guarantee you that the whole of Indiana does not read a magazine article about a Battle of the Bands competition in Fort Wayne.”

“Let a girl dream, Steve,” you said, your voice slightly muffled from where your face was pressed up against the counter.

“How’s the song writing going?” Robin said.

You unfolded yourself back to your natural height, your energy suddenly renewed at the change in topic.

“I think I’ve finally managed to fit something into that cool chord progression you had last week at practice. But I was thinking-”

“I love when you do that,” Robin interjected. You leaned over the counter and punched her lightly in the arm.

“Do you remember the song Ed-” you hesitated, “that Corroded Coffin played at the second round?”

“How could I forget? I think they burst my eardrums with how loud it was.”

“That’s what I mean! It was loud because the crowd joined in.” You leaned further across the counter. “We’ve been pretty neck and neck with them throughout the whole comp but in that round they scored higher than they normally did, because…”

“Because…” Robin tried, although it was clear that she was confused.

“Audience participation!”

Robin looked no less confused, and now even Steve was furrowing his brows. You groaned and brought your hands up to rub at your face.

“There are eight categories that our songs are judged by and the last one is audience reception. When Corroded Coffin played that round they only beat us because they got full marks for that category.”

“That’s only because the crowd sung along,” Robin offered.

“Exactly! In a competition like this you need original songs to win, but the problem is the audience won’t know the lyrics to any of our songs because they’ve never heard them before. They sung along to that song because the repetition of the ‘na na na’s was easy for them to learn.”

Robin only furrowed her brows once more.

“Soooo…we need to have basic lyrics?”

“Well, I was thinking we could-”

“Shit,” Steve breathed, cutting you off.

“What?” Robin said, turning her gaze to Steve and then turning instead to follow where he was staring. “Shit,” she repeated.

You turned around, following Steve and Robin’s gaze across the store and out of the front window where a very large and very black van was pulling into the parking lot, loud music spilling from its open windows.

“Shit,” you groaned.

The panic that ensued was almost comical.

“Get her out the back!” Robin said.

“We can’t, Keith’s out the back!” Steve responded.

“Y/N’s hot, he won’t care!”

“Y/N,” Steve turned his attention to you. “How do you feel about having to hide out the back whilst Keith tries to flirt with you?”

“Repulsed,” you said immediately.

“See, Robin? It’s a lose-lose situation here.”

You turned back around to look out of the window, the sight of Eddie Munson jumping from his van causing a range of emotions to rush through you. He plucked the cigarette from between his lips, dropping it onto the floor and extinguishing it with the point of his shoe. It was strange, seeing him again after having successfully avoided him for over a week, for as you looked upon him you felt that same searing hot anger that had boiled up inside you as you had yelled at Eddie across that carpark. It made a part of you want to storm right out to him and slap him all over again just as you had done at the Hideout. But then there were those final words that he had yelled out to you replaying relentlessly in your mind now. The sheen that had been behind his eyes, the passion in his words, the crack in his voice. It all came rushing back so that now there was also something else lingering in the depths of your heart; something that yearned to walk up to him and run your hand along the length of his jaw, to feel his breath upon your skin.

He looked tired, you realised, his hair flat and tangled, his eyes weary and rimmed with dark circles. In truth, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and the thought made you want to stay where you were, to face him once and for all, to give him the chance to say whatever it was he had been trying to say for the past week as you had continued to avoid him.

But then, as his figure drew closer, you altogether realised that no, you could not do this. For your heart had begun to race and your breathing had begun to quicken, and you weren’t altogether too sure whether that was because you wanted to see him or you didn’t. So you stuck with the latter, whipping back around to find Steve and Robin still bickering.

“Maybe she can hide in the adult section, surely he won’t go in there,” Robin said.

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Steve replied.

“Just shove over and let me duck behind the counter,” you called, not waiting for them to respond as you jumped up and over the bench. Now on the other side, you took one last look at the carpark, one last look at Eddie who had paused just before the door, his attention caught by something. You followed his gaze.

“Shit,” you, Steve and Robin all said in unison, watching on as Eddie stared quite obviously at your car parked right outside.

You ducked down just as Eddie opened the door, trying to still your racing heart and ragged breathing as Steve and Robin quite unsubtly scrambled to lean over you. You were expecting Eddie to make his way over to the counter, to ask about your whereabouts like he had done at the record store only a few days before. But as you listened intently to the sound of his muffled footsteps on the carpet, you realised that he instead appeared to be...browsing.

“What is he doing?” Robin whispered. 

“Do you want me to get him to leave?” Steve whispered down to you.

You thought about the proposition.

“No. If he’s just looking, leave him be,” you whispered back.

But whatever it was that Eddie had been looking for, it clearly did not take him long to find it, for it was only moments later that his footsteps were nearing the counter.

“You look like shit,” Steve grumbled as he took the tape that Eddie passed him.

“Why thank you, Harrington,” Eddie quipped back with a little less enthusiasm than his voice normally possessed. You expected him to reply with something else sarcastic, maybe a backhanded compliment directed at Steve. But instead he remained silent.

“You’re borrowing this again?” Robin said. “Didn’t you just take it out?”

“It’s a good movie,” was all Eddie responded with. The sheer defeat that his voice was laced with had your heart breaking all over again.

Robin and Steve said nothing more as Steve rung up Eddie’s tape and handed it back to him. The interaction took less than a minute, and you couldn’t quite tell whether that relieved or saddened you. Now Eddie was taking the tape from Steve’s grasp and turning to leave. But the sound of his retreating footsteps did not come.

You felt Robin and Steve stiffen beside you at Eddie’s hesitation.

And then everything seemed to happen all at once.

Keith emerged from the backroom, looking altogether quite disinterested as he called out to Steve and beckoned for him to follow. Steve hesitated, turning to look at Robin before he tentatively leaned away from the counter and slowly made his way to the backroom without ever taking his eyes off of Eddie. And then as if the world was somehow hellbent on ensuring your aloneness with someone you did not wish tose, the bell above the door chimed as somebody else entered the store.

“Can I please have some help?” an old woman called from the front, and you felt as Robin stiffened beside you.

“I can help you from here-” Robin tried to say but paused abruptly as you hit her leg. “Alright, fine, I’ll be right there,” she continued before begrudgingly leaving the desk with a final sympathetic look down towards you.

Eddie was silent now, making it difficult to determine where exactly he was, but then he was moving once more, returning to the counter to lean down upon it. You held your breath, not quite sure what you were waiting for.

“I told someone once that I had never been in love.”

His voice startled you so that you had to bring a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle the gasp that fell from your lips. He was close now, close enough that you could hear him breathing. And whilst it was clear he was resting upon the counter, you noticed that he did not lean forwards to peer over its edge; he did not see you.

“That wasn’t exactly true. There was a girl once. The first time I saw her was in high school. She probably doesn’t remember it, but I was walking down the hallway and she bumped into me. People shoved into me all the time in school so I wasn’t exactly surprised. But when I turned to look at her I thought to myself that I had never seen anyone more beautiful. She was wearing this dress with little flowers on it and her hair was tied up because it was so hot that day. And when she looked up at me, she smiled and then apologised and then left.” Eddie paused, and you could hear him swallow thickly as if the scene were replaying itself within his mind. “That smile haunted me for years.”

You didn’t remember the interaction, and for some reason the thought pained you. But you did remember the dress, a staple in your wardrobe before it had gotten a hole in the side seam.

“And then, years later, I saw her again, although this time she was playing an electric guitar and singing on a stage, and I honestly thought to myself that the world was fucking with me. Because how could there have been a person that beautiful and that talented that lived in Hawkins?   

“But then there was this stupid competition and the stupid songs that I couldn’t seem to write and the plan was so simple at first. You see, this girl was friends with this kid I knew. So I asked if he could get some song writing tips from her. But this kid,” Eddie chuckled to himself lightly, “he’s got a big imagination and the next thing I know he’s concocting this plan for me to date this girl so she can tell me all her song writing secrets herself. It was my plan though, not the kid’s, so I don’t blame him for everything going to shit. He’s a good kid, he just gets a little excited at times I think.”

You didn’t want to believe it, and yet it did sound like a very Dustin-like thing to do.

“I didn’t want to agree to the plan at first and I honestly think that the only reason I did say yes was because I was so completely sure that she would reject me. But there was something else as well, something that took me a long time to admit to myself. I think, deep down, I only really agreed to the plan because I’m a coward. The plan gave me an excuse to try with her, because I think that I never would have had the courage to talk to her otherwise. And then even when she eventually rejected me, I would be fine because none of it would have been real.”

You could feel tears start to well behind your eyes, and you tried desperately to keep them at bay. It was futile now to cling to the delusion that Eddie didn’t know you were residing behind the counter, and yet you did not get up and face him.

“But then when I did start to get to know her, she was more wonderful and more beautiful and more kind than I could have ever imagined. She was so kind that she didn’t reject me even though the rest of Hawkins would have. And then the more I got to know her the more...the more I began to fall for her because on top of her being talented and beautiful, she was also so fucking funny, which really just wasn’t fair to the rest of the human race at that point.

You stifled a laugh, which felt strange considering all the other emotions that were running through you.

“And I knew I should tell her everything, I wanted to tell her everything. But I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin everything. I was too scared to lose her. But I should have known I couldn’t hide it forever. I think it would’ve eaten me alive eventually, but the thing is, this girl is also super smart, so I should have known I could never keep anything from her for long.

“So when she found out and when everything eventually turned to shit, I avoided her. I told myself that I was avoiding her because she wouldn’t want to see me, but I think I was just being a coward again. I was scared of her hating me. I was scared that I would rock up to her house and I would just make her hate me more.

“But she deserves more than that. She deserves an apology and then she deserves to slap me again.”

And then, suddenly, Eddie did away with the pretending.

“You deserve better than me, Y/N, and if I was stronger I would have accepted that and stayed away from you. But I can’t, not from you, not when I haven’t even apologised.

“So I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for the way I hurt you. But if I were to do it all again I’m not sure that I’d change anything. Because even though I’ve probably lost you forever, I think that without that stupid plan I never would have had the courage to talk to you. And I’ll take the short time that I had with you over never having known you at all. So even though what we had didn’t last all that long, I need you to know that it was perfect; that you were perfect. It was all real, Y/N, every last word that I said to you and every single emotion that I felt towards you was real. I-” Eddie hesitated. “I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve loved you from the day that you bumped into me in the hallway.”

You didn’t quite catch the sob before it left your lips, so you curled into yourself more in an attempt to bury the emotions further down. You knew that Eddie was aware of your presence behind the counter, and yet still you remained upon the floor, not knowing what exactly you be met with should you stand to face Eddie and unwilling to find out. Not when he had just said all of that. Not when tears were streaming freely down your cheeks now.

“I won’t bother you again if that’s what you want. I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least give you the apology you deserved. I wanted it to be better than this. I even wrote it down a bunch of times, but nothing seemed quite right. But if this is all that I can get of you than that’s what I’ll take. I won’t bother you at the finals. Hell, I’ll pull out of the competition if you want me to. And then after that you don’t ever have to see me again.”

Eddie paused, and he stayed silent for so long that for just a moment you thought he’d left. When he spoke again, his voice was somehow softer so that it came out in barely more than a whisper.

“I-I want to fix this if you’ll let me. I don’t know how but I promise I’ll spend every day trying. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, though. I know it’s selfish of me to even ask, but I know that I’ll hate myself if I don’t try.

“If you don’t feel the same though-” Eddie’s voice cracked slightly, and at the sound of it you had to close your eyes in an attempt to stave off another sob. “I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t. Just avoid me at the comp and I’ll know. I-”

But suddenly Steve had returned, his pace almost a sprint as he made his way back behind the counter and spread his arms wide across the desk.

“Talking to yourself now, Munson?” Steve’s voice was low, an attempt at intimidation.

“Something like that,” Eddie said, his tone defeated.

And then he was leaving, his footsteps muffled by the carpet. The bell above the door chimed as he left, and you let out a shaky sigh at the sound of it.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked as you hastily wiped away your tears. “What did he say? Because I can run out into the carpark now and-”

You smiled slightly at Steve’s enthusiasm.

“I’m fine,” you interjected just as Robin returned.

“That’s like the third time this week that he’s rented that tape,” Robin said. “I mean, Top Gun wasn’t even that good.”

--- 

Somehow, as you pulled into the carpark of the competition’s venue for what would be the last time, everything was worse than it had been the week before.

Your nerves were at an all-time high, although that was to be expected. And yet the shaking of your hands and the shallowness of your breath seemed to be completely forgotten in the wake of the twisting in your stomach and the racing of your heart caused by the prospect of seeing Eddie Munson again.

And although you had been wracked with the same dread the last time you had found yourself within this carpark, now it was somehow worse. Because Eddie’s admission back at the video store had been repeating itself within your mind for the entirety of the week, and for the entirety of the week you had been at a loss for how you would respond when you eventually saw him again.

You thought of little else as you turned the car off and exited the vehicle, seemingly incapable of tuning in to the conversation that the girls were having around you. Procuring your instrument from the back, you felt strangely numb as you crossed the carpark, knowing that each step was taking you closer and closer to him.

“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to find Robin matching your hesitant pace, a kind smile waiting for you as you looked up at her.

“No,” you said, struggling to swallow the saliva that had suddenly accumulated in your mouth.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Robin queried again.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the worst that going to happen if you talk to him?”

You turned to look at her, your brows furrowing.

“You’re awfully pushy for someone who told me that they would cut his dick off last week.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a dramatic love confession.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned.

“No, but seriously. What’s the worst that’s going to happen if you just acknowledge his existence?”

“I could forgive him.”

“Would that really be so bad?”

You had been asking yourself that same question for the past week and had been unsuccessful in determining an answer. It was so easy to hate him, so easy to just label Eddie Munson as an asshole and call it a day. But that confession at the video store had made things harder now. It made your resolve in your hatred waiver. It made you question everything and then question it again, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

You didn’t answer Robin’s question as the four of you made your way through stage door and down the hallway towards the green room. Your palms were sweating now, your grip upon the strap of your case so tight that your knuckles had turned white. The thrumming in your ears was deafening now so that whatever conversation was ensuing around you sounded like nothing more than a faint buzz. Your breath ripped itself from your throat with every exhale as if it too were trying to flee the inevitable situation, and with every subsequent inhale it felt like your breathing was becoming shallower and shallower until you thought it likely you might pass out. Maybe it would be better if you did, you thought. Maybe it would mean you could skip straight over the awkwardness that was awaiting you in that green room altogether.

In the end, your worry had been for nothing, for Eddie Munson was not within the green room when you entered.

His band was congregated in the corner, the low hum of their conversation instantly stopping when you entered the room. Gareth continued to stare unsubtly at you as Mike and Jeff offered you a smile. You tried to smile back, but your heart was only just starting to calm itself at the absence of Eddie so that you found yourself quite distracted as you did so.

You thought briefly of the possibility that maybe Eddie simply hadn’t come; that he had pulled out of the competition just like he had said he would do and had left the others to finish the competition without him. But even though the thought only stemmed from the hope that you wouldn’t have to see him—that you wouldn’t have to face him—you were perfectly well aware that the thought was completely ludicrous. You were quite certain that Eddie Munson would sooner drop dead than ever miss a performance, and the sight of his guitar leaning against the wall and his van still parked in the carpark outside dispelled the notion anyway.

“I’m just gonna head to the bathroom,” you said as you put down your guitar case.

“Ew, are you sure?” Robin said. 

The bathrooms at the venue were quite possibly one of the most disgusting and unsanitary places in the whole of Indiana. They were unisex and so contained a set of urinals that looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a decade. The smell of the room was concerningly putrid, only worsened by the fact that the only window within the space was firmly stuck shut. A truly remarkable amount of graffiti was tattooed upon every wall, a few markings having somehow found their way onto the roof as well. 

“You gotta go when you gotta go,” you tried to say nonchalantly.

In truth, you really just needed to leave. Gareth and Jeff had been whispering between each other for the entirety of your stay within the room, continuing to glance periodically over to you so that it was made abundantly clear that they were talking about you. Then there was Mike, who had also been staring completely unsubtly right at you with a remarkable amount of pity compacted behind his gaze.

You breathed out a sigh of relief once you had escaped the room, revelling in the silence of the hallway as you walked. Your heartrate was finally beginning to slow now, the thundering in your ears lessening so that by the time you reached the bathroom you were only plagued with your regular performance nerves.

You pushed the door open absentmindedly, cringing slightly at the sheer stickiness that your fingers were met with before you found yourself stifling a scream. For as you pushed the door open somebody had been about to open it on the other side so that a loud bang resounded throughout the space as the door collided with their head. You jumped backwards, listening as a groan of pain erupted from the bathroom before you gently pushed the door open once more.

“I am so sorry, I-” you paused at the sight of Eddie Munson standing before you, one hand cradling his head. He stilled when he saw you, his pain suddenly forgotten.

“Sorry,” Eddie apologised, although for what you weren’t quite sure. An awkward silence lingered between you now, neither of you quite knowing what to say. The thundering of your heart returned all at once, so renewed it its passions that you thought maybe you would pass out after all. You thought briefly of fainting right into Eddie’s open arms, and whilst the thought was not wholeheartedly repulsive, you shook your head to dispel of the idea nonetheless.

The silence stretched on, and after a moment or two a small sigh was leaving Eddie’s lips—so soft that you almost missed it—his eyes turning to the floor. He stepped to the side, allowing you to pass and giving you a wide berth to do so.

“I’ll...um...I’ll leave you be,” he said, and the disappointment in his voice made something crack in your heart. You stepped further into the room, and as you did so Eddie immediately outstretched his hand to keep the door propped open and leave.

“You’ve got something on your face...by the way.” The sound of your voice reverberating around the room surprised you, the desperation laced behind it even more so.. Eddie did have something on his face—a black mark that had likely been left from his run-in with the door—but a moment ago you had been completely content with your decision to allow Eddie to leave without telling him about it.

Eddie walked back into the room and headed instantly towards the sinks where he examined his face in the mirror. His eyes went wide at the black mark, his hands immediately coming up to wipe at the substance.

“Ew, what the fuck is on that door?”

Now, suddenly, you found yourself stifling a laugh as Eddie continued to rub furiously at the black mark and as the black mark only continued to spread. And although you managed to swallow the laugh before it escaped from your throat, the smile that accompanied it was not so easily stopped. Eddie’s eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror, the corner of his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly.

“You find this funny, do you?” he teased.

“Immensely,” you responded, unable to stop it as your smile grew wider.

“It’s not my fault I was assaulted by a bathroom door,” Eddie said.

“You were standing right behind it.”

“Well how much force do you think you need to open a door? I swear I’m concussed or something now.”

There was another laugh now and this time it managed to escape your lips. You stilled at the sound of it. This was too easy, falling back into how things had been, and it scared you. Eddie noticed your change in demeanour, the smile dropping from his features. He turned back to himself in the mirror and continued rubbing at the black mark until he had successfully managed to spread it across half of his forehead.

Before you had even made the decision to do so, you found yourself walking into one of the stalls and ripping off a line of toilet paper, bringing it to the sink where you wet it slightly. You turned to face Eddie and you found him watching you intently, his gaze oddly hypnotising.

“Here,” you said softly, trying to ignore how rapidly your heart was beating now. You could see the surprise in Eddie’s features as he realised what you were doing, his eyes going slightly wide, his breath stilling altogether. And so the two of you stayed like that for some time, Eddie apparently in shock as your hand remained suspended in the air, you seemingly incapable of moving it upwards any further and yet unwilling to let yourself back away.

There was a stillness to the air as the silence lingered; something that held its breath along with you so that it felt almost as if time had stopped. But the stillness was not as awkward as one might expect. It was comfortable in a way; comfortable like how things used to be between the two of you. And so when you saw the slightest droop in Eddie’s shoulders as he slowly began to relax, it was as if your hand had regained its function to move once more, and the next thing you knew you were connecting the crumpled-up wad of toilet paper to Eddie’s forehead, wiping gently.

The silence only continued to grow as you slowly cleaned away the mess that had become Eddie’s forehead so that you became quite sure within that moment that neither you nor Eddie were breathing. But you were leaning so very close to him now so that you could think of nothing else other than the heat emanating from his skin and the smell of his cologne and the way that you could feel his gaze fixated upon you as you worked. You dared not meet his eyes, unsure what exactly you would see behind them and unwilling to find out. And yet the heat from his stare was so very tantalising as it traversed across your cheeks, over your brow, down to the curve of your jaw and then back up to where it rested upon your lips. It lingered there for some time, and yet still you forced your gaze to remain upon your work until the black mark had finally been cleaned and there was no longer a reason for you to continue to stand in such a close proximity with Eddie.

Yet still, you remained.

Your breathing was ragged, your heart beating so fast that you were quite sure that Eddie must have been able to hear the thrumming of your blood through your veins. Yet he remained just as still as your hand fell away from his forehead, and he made no move back away from you. The heat of his stare was too much now, and you found yourself surrendering in your fight, turning your gaze up to meet Eddie’s. You heard as his breath hitched in his throat as you did so.

A concoction of things met you behind the deep, brown eyes of Eddie Munson.

First, there was the sadness, which you had never quite seen such an abundance of behind Eddie’s eyes and yet which had been haunting you whenever you had met his gaze recently. Now it was still there, but it was almost as if it were more resigned, more subdued, as if Eddie had slowly come to terms with it.

Then there was something that looked like something close to fear; as if Eddie didn’t quite know how this situation was going to end and was scared of the possibilities. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless, almost hidden behind everything else. The sight of it was oddly satisfying.

But then there was something else, so small that you almost missed it. It was a light, a glint, a spark. It was hope. Because now you were standing so very close to Eddie that your chests were practically touching, so close in a way that you had not been since you had leaned down and brushed your lips against Eddie’s cheek at the Hideout. It was electrifying being back in such close proximity to him again, so much so that you could feel your skin yearning to touch his, could feel your lips tingling as if they were remembering how they had felt after that wonderful kiss in his trailer.

It would be so very easy to forgive him; to close what small distance still remained between you and claim what your body desired. But that hope behind his eyes was a frightening thing, for you realised that the same spark that lingered behind his gaze was likely mirrored within your own.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie suddenly whispered into the air between you.

“I know,” you found yourself whispering back.

“Oh thank god.” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief and you furrowed your brows at it. At the sight of your confusion, Eddie hastened to elaborated. “I-I just mean that...well...I thought that you were behind the desk at Family Video but I wasn’t sure so there was a chance that I was just saying all...” Eddie paused and swallowed, and for a moment you became distracted by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “All that to thin air.”

You remembered his speech so clearly; the way he had poured his heart out to the empty space behind the counter, the way his voice had cracked slightly when he had uttered those three words to you and the way you had been so fearful to stand and face him, to see whatever pain you knew would be plastered across his features. You thought of those three words, those three simple words and the sheer weight that had been behind them when Eddie had said them. There had been a part of you that had wanted to not believe him, that had wanted to dispel those three words as just another lie. But the thought itself had been preposterous the moment it had ran through your mind.

You thought for just a moment that if Eddie had uttered those words under different circumstances—if he had said them after another date or after another kiss—whether you might have considered the possibility of saying them back, and your inability to produce an answer was the scariest thing of all.

Suddenly, Eddie’s proximity to you seemed to register all at once—the way his skin was practically touching yours, the way your breaths were intermingling with each other—and you pulled away so quickly it looked almost as if you had been burned. But Eddie did not flinch as you left his side, did not even blink, almost as if he had been expecting it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I-ugh...I can leave if you want. O-or if you want to leave I can stay here for a bit.” Eddie walked forward, making as if to go, but stopped halfway to the door and turned back to face you. “You don’t...this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. I know we ran into each other by coincidence, so I understand if you still don’t want to-”

Eddie’s gaze was turned down towards the floor as if he could not quite face you whilst he uttered the words. There was something in the way he held himself now—the stoop in his posture, the timidity in his gaze, the sheer uncertainty in his being—that had you wanting to reach out and touch him. And although the thought had only been fleeting, suddenly you found your hand outstretching towards Eddie seemingly of its own volition. You panicked as you watched it near him, your heart thundering so loudly in your chest you were sure Eddie would be able to hear it. But his back was to you now, unable to see your hand’s approach until your pinky finger was tentatively wrapping around his.

Your breathed hitched in your throat just as Eddie’s posture stiffened, the two of you remaining motionless within the room as the silence seemed to encompass you. The stillness seemed never-ending; the tension so palpable that if one were to run a knife through the air they would likely feel the resistance of it. And yet you did not pull away. Because although it was only a singular finger that was touching him, although the silence that lingered between you seemed almost as if it might stretch on forever, the featherlight touch brought all of it back. You remembered first seeing Eddie in the crowd of your show looking remarkably out of place and yet completely at home all at once. You remembered the strangled cry that had left your lips at his unexpected presence during your shift, and then your subsequent flood of embarrassment when you realised he had caught you singing. You remembered the theft of your keys, seeing Eddie play for the first time, talking with him over milkshakes. You remembered how caring he had been when he had driven you home after Robin’s party, how he had held you against his chest and rushed you out of the diner to stop you from paying, how delicately he had held you in the silence of his bedroom.

You realised in that moment that you could not let Eddie leave the bathroom without speaking with him. You could not let him leave operating under the assumption that you never wanted to speak with him again. Because although the thought was tempting, although you had seriously considered just avoiding him for the rest of your life and hoping that your feelings would go away with him, the singular touch of his finger against yours made you reconsider. It made you remember all of the times that he had made you smile and all of the times he made you laugh.

You remembered how happy Eddie Munson made you.

And then your mind turned to all of the things Eddie had said, to all of the beautiful and tempting words he had laid out bare before you when the two of you had been yelling at each other in the carpark of the competition’s venue. There were the words he had uttered down towards you at Family Video, the words that had had your heart both wrenching in pain and soaring in happiness. The boy from the basketball team had said nothing of the sort after he had stood you up. Tommy H had not even once acknowledged your presence after the embarrassment he had caused you.

So as you looked up at him and as Eddie’s gaze remained resolutely upon the floor, you could not quite help the small flutter of your heart as you stepped closer towards him. You could hear as his breath hitched in his throat, saw as his eyes tentatively made their way up to yours.

“Just-” you began, trying to collate the racing of your thoughts into something at least partly understandable. “I just…”

But now Eddie’s eyes were boring into your own, and you found yourself getting lost within them. They were just as big and round and brown as you had always known them to be, but mostly, they were just as comforting, and you felt the racing of your heart slow just slightly. His finger gripped yours more tightly, and the action had your heart fluttering anew. You were close now, closer than you had been in a very long time and yet you did not step away.

As you continued to stare up at Eddie you saw nothing but the depth of his eyes. Within that depth you found the small spark of hope that still lingered there, maybe burning a little bit brighter now. And although the sight of it still scared you, you could not quite bring yourself to extinguish it.

“I just need some time,” you finally said. “To think.”

Eddie let out a sigh, but whether it was of relief or defeat you could not quite tell. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and you could not quite help the rise of disappointment that flooded through you. He would not wait, you realised. He would not wait whilst you tried to figure out whether things could still work, and the thought made you regret ever lingering within the bathroom with him in the first place.

But then Eddie’s finger was leaving yours as his hand engulfed your own. The touch was unexpected, and the feeling of the weight of his palm pressing into yours—the feeling of the familiarity of his touch—had you wanting to pull away. But you did not. Because when Eddie reopened his eyes there was something else behind them now; a flame that had not been there before.

“I will give you anything that you need.”

You knew that he would; the flame behind his eyes—only growing in intensity the more he looked upon you—confirmed it. And it was for that very reason that you could not stay within the bathroom any longer, for your gaze had momentarily flicked down to Eddie’s lips, the sight of them so close and so full and so tempting before you. It would be too easy to lean just slightly upwards and connect your lips to his, and the sheer desire that you felt to do so was a dangerous thing.

But before you left you found your hand—the one that was not currently being held tightly within the confines of Eddie’s palm—reaching upwards. Your palm cupped Eddie’s cheek gently, and it was clear that the tender action surprised him just as much as it did you, for his breath hitched in his throat once more. But a moment later he relaxed, and soon you found him closing his eyes and leaning into your touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and with a strength you did not know you could muster, you pulled yourself away from Eddie and left.

Eddie did not follow for quite some time.

---

Main Taglist:

@alicetweven @juggernort @theh3aven @manamitoyota @mimiluvsualot @cherrypieyourface @kaqua @c0untryclub @goldencherriess @emotionaldreamer @givemethesleep @milkiane @miscreantsnopossoms @legendaryfestsoul-blog

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #season 4 stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #joe quinn #joseph quinn #steve harrington #dustin henderson #stranger things s4 #robin buckley

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cage-cat-yt · 2 years ago

Note

hey it’s valentine lol i just don’t want ppl seeing my old blog lol. do u have any headcanons for all the dummies u may wanna share? i love hearing ppls weird or out of character hcs for them <3 it’s so fun seeing what people come up with

Hi Val!! ^^ and after 10 days I got my headcanons written! If anybody wants to see more headcanons from me just let me know the fandom and characters:)

I'm gonna start with how I characterize these guys, because I notice from person to person it can vary a little to moderate amounts.

Slappy is a maniacal 3'00" puppet who, even though he seems to be good at planning out his deeds at first glance, is in reality more similar to a child acting out. Plus, he's VERY impulsive compared to the other dummies, pulling his pranks on a whim and hoping they work, and when they do, gets a kick outta them!

Unlike his younger brother, Wally Wood is more patient and less like a child acting out and more just "provoke me and I break you". This doesn't change that his tactics of suffering isn't easy, it's just as bad-if not worse- as Slappy's. Though 80% of the time, he'll just be minding his own business, being in his own little world reading catcher and the rye. Though he's very antisocial (in multiple aspects) he can somewhat socialize with people without freaking them out, but it's inevitable for him to say something that might come off as horrific or insensitive, since he doesn't catch onto some social cues with those kind of things.

Dennis is very childish and naive compared to the rest of the puppets, enjoying activities that are perceived to be childish, and having the open loving ideals that an innocent child might have. He's very easily distracted, struggling to pay attention to one thing for long periods of time unless it hooks his attention and gets him excited, which can come as a problem at times since he'll get fidgety and antsy when bored.

Rocky in many ways is the parent of the group. He's serious, doesn't talk too much, and very much an introvert. But he questions everything and everyone's intentions around him since his first encounter with Slappy, not wanting to fall into the same trap of working for an awful person. But despite it, when he does work for someone, he does what they say with little questioning at first. But if his trust is broken he'll make sure hell breaks loose in some way, that be towards the person specifically or just their surroundings.

Now onto ✨the headcanons✨

Slappy and Mr Wood's relationship is like two children trying to one up the other. They bicker, argue, and are willing to get physical with the fighting. But as much as they might treat each other as rivals, they still have each other's backs to protect and defend each other.

Bilingual Mr Wood, he can speak English and French. Why? I felt like it.

If it wasn't very obvious in my description for Dennis' personality, I headcanon him having ADHD. Obviously the description was just a quick surface level look, but if I ever touch on this subject in writing I'll do my best to make it realistic, probably ask one of my besties and cousin with adhd how I should characterize it too for safe measures to not get it incorrect.

Music tastes because I'm a band nerd! First, though Rocky isn't vocal about it, he's a big metal music fan, KoRn being his favorite. Slappy is a fan of "pumped up kicks syndrome" music, which means any music that has like a happy melody and music to it, but when you look listen to the lyrics or meaning it takes a much darker meaning. Examples of this would be Pumped up kicks by Foster the people, My ordinary life by Living Tombstone, every other 21 pilots song, and When doves cry by Prince). Wally and Dennis aren't big music people, but Wally enjoys some grunge/alternative while Dennis enjoys love songs from around 50s-80s (more chill type, not too metal on the music).

Biromantic Ace Slappy, AroAce Rocky, Demiromantic Ace Dennis, and Straight Token Wally.

When they trying to get movie tonight together it never works.. Slappy is an intense enjoyer of horror, mainly psychological but will do any type. But Dennis has a preference for family friendly films and is spooked by horror. But Wally hates most family films and isn't scared by horror, so his preference is for realistic drama, especially if it's a commentary on parts of society. But Rocky isn't super interested in watching some movie about a dysfunctional depressing family, no, he's an action man, get this man some like John Wick or Terminator and he'll have a grand old time. But atlas, none of them can agree on a genre, so movie nights are usually just arguing among 3 of the dummies and Dennis covering his ears.

Slappy is a theater kid, you will not change my mind. He is waiting for the moment he can break into a musical number and feel no shame or remorse.

I love the idea that Slappy and Dennis have like a positive older brother - younger brother relationship, Slappy sticking up if Dennis ever gets harassed, showing him the ropes to his trickery, and Dennis looking up to Slappy, trying his best to not get distracted. But even when he does get sidetracked, Slappy's real cool about it.

Idk if this makes much sense but I'm put it anyway- since me and another user hc Rocky taking a lotta naps, I'm pretty dead set that he'd be a pretty heavy sleeper. So heavy to where even if Wally and Slappy are having a yelling match about something unimportant, he just, won't notice? Lol, I probably sound crazy but c'est la vie

Dennis tried learning the trombone one, but didn't make it too far before losing interest.

If you read these, thank you for taking the time from your day to!! I put far too much effort on this, but I'm totally down to doing this in the future ^^ anyway, remember to hydrate and I hope you have a good day :)

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Home Sweet Home

You bring Colson to your hometown for the first time.

Request: “Can you write a Colson imagine where you take him back to your hometown to meet your family and friends and he’s nervous everyone will hate him but everyone ends up loving him? And maybe include a run in with some girls from high school that are jealous 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I try to be as inclusive as possible in my fics but its hard when writing about families in this capacity, so I just went with the most generic family model possible. Also, my family is very unusual so I don’t really know how families interact… oop

Word Count: 2979

“Will you stop freaking out, you’re making me nervous.” You placed a soft hand on the shaking leg of your boyfriend. “And they’re my family.”

He let out a sigh, the shaking stopping momentarily as he pulled you as close to him as possible in the back of your Uber. “What if your parents hate me?”

Taking a deep breath, you assured him again, “my parents are not going to hate you. We’ve been over this; they’re going to love you.”

“Your dad is going to take one look at me and punch me in the face.” Colson said, a pout on his face.

You let out a chuckle, “he is not. And even if he does, you can take a punch.”

Despite your laughter, Colson remained stoic, “I’m serious Y/N, dads hate me. I look like everything you’d want your daughter to avoid.”

A sigh left your lips at his admittance of insecurity. “Babe listen to me, please. My parents are going to love you because I love you. And if they don’t then tough shit because you’re not going anywhere.”

He nodded, but you could still see the worry behind his eyes. “I just really want them to like me. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

You smiled at the comment, heart fluttering. “I’m in love with you.”

He looked at you deeply, a smile falling onto his lips, “and I’m in love with you, princess.” His lips pressed a small kiss against the crown of your head and rested there until the car pulled up to your childhood home. You felt your boyfriend tense up beside you, so you reached for his arm that was around your middle, rubbing soft shapes through the sleeves.

“I’m gonna be right next to you the whole night.” You told him as you moved to open the door, breathing in the refreshing air. LA was lovely, but it was nice to be able to breathe properly in your hometown.

Colson grabbed your bags out of the trunk, even though you insisted you could help. “Go say hi to your family, babe. I got it.”

You pressed a small kiss to his cheek, whispering a small “see you inside” before rushing to the familiar front door. Years of memories lie beyond its wood, memories you were excited to relive.

Knowing your family would keep it unlocked for you, you turned the knob and pushed the door open. The smell of your family’s cooking filled your nose, and immediately members of your family found you.

“Y/N!” Your younger cousins screamed, racing over to you to hug you. The last time you’d seen them they were 5 and 7, now they were 8 and 10.

“You guys have gotten so big! Did you drink some sort of magic potion or something?” You asked, a smile on your face.

Your mom had told you that she and your father would be cooking, but you didn’t think they’d invited your entire family. Although, you should have assumed they would given how close your family was.

Once your cousins let go of you, you turned around to see Colson waving off the Uber driver and making his way to the door. You turned to your younger cousins once he got close enough for them to see him. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Colson.” They gave small waves as you introduced them to Colson, who gave them a big smile.

“C’mon, babe. I’ll show you to our room.” You grabbed one of the bags from his hand, much to his dismay, and led him through the house. After you had moved to LA, your parents had turned your bedroom into the guest room, but some of the decorations from your younger years had remained on the walls.

Colson looked around the room, smiling as he thought of younger you growing up in here. “Is this a Bowie vinyl?” He asked, motioning to the vinyl record on the wall as he set your bags onto the bed.

You nodded, smiling wide. “Yep, got it for my 15th birthday. Signed and everything.” Your boyfriend nodded in appreciation as his eyes moved around the room. You wrapped your arms around his middle, cuddling into his chest. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest from how nervous he was. “You’re not gonna freak out and run off on me, are you?” You asked, a light humor in your voice.

Colson let out a dry chuckle, “no, I’ll be okay.” He mumbled, squeezing you closer to him. “But what if we just stayed in here forever?”

You slapped his chest playfully, “c’mon loser, you’re coming to meet my family whether you like it or not.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted with his free hand, making you giggle.

You made your way into the kitchen where your mom was standing with your aunts and sister. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, “you made it!” She came over and gave you a tight hug, “How was the flight?” She asked.

“It was fine, we slept most of the way.” You smiled before turning to Colson. “Mom, this is Colson, you’ve met him over facetime a couple times now, remember?”

She smiled moving to pull him into a hug. He had a shocked look on his face but reciprocated the hug. You mouthed “sorry” to him, giggling silently. He just smiled and shook his head, letting you know he was okay.

“Of course, I remember! She talks about you all the time.” You blushed as Colson smiled proudly. “You’re much taller in person.” Your mom noted, making you and Colson chuckle.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Your sister cleared her throat, grabbing your attention, “right! Colson, this is my sister and my aunts.”

They each introduced themselves politely. You told them you were going to go outside to find your dad and brothers. Before you left your sister pulled you to the side and whispered in your ear, “okay, I knew LA was full of hot guys, but how’d you manage to pull that?”

You laughed out loud, “Y/S/N! That’s so mean!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” She laughed, but then whispered again, “but seriously, god damn.”

You rolled your eyes, “next time I’ll bring you one back.” She giggled, nodding in encouragement.

You took Colson’s hand, ignoring his quizzical look, and led him to your backyard. “That wasn’t too bad, right?” You checked in on him.

He sighed, “no, but moms are never bad. If moms don’t like you, they’ll say it in secret. Dads will say it to your face.”

“My mom loved you, and so will my dad. Just trust me.” You smiled, squeezing his hand.

You found your dad sitting on a lawn chair with your grandparents. Your brothers were throwing a football around with some of your older cousins and uncles. You greeted the three in lawn chairs, your dad standing up to give you a hug.

“Hey, Y/N/N. How are you?” Your dad asked.

“I’m good! Glad to be home!” You smiled.

Your grandpa grunted, “you should never leave, then.”

You chuckled, leaning down to give both him and your grandma hugs. “You’ll be so sick of me in three days, you’ll be begging me to leave.”

Once you stood up straight, you motioned to Colson, “This is my boyfriend, Colson. You’ve kind of met him before, Dad.”

Your dad reached out his arm for Colson to shake, earning him a strong nod. “Strong grip. I like him.” Your dad looked towards you. You could tell he didn’t remember meeting Colson on facetime, but you hadn’t expected him to.

“Grandpa, you’ll like this. Colson knows all four members of Motley Crue.” You smiled, winking at your boyfriend.

The older man looked impressed, “really? I was a roadie on the Theatre of Pain tour.”

Colson nodded, a smile on his face. “I played Tommy Lee in their biopic and then, uh, we recorded a song together.” You grinned proudly as the two talked about their experiences with the band.

Your dad put a hand on your shoulder, shaking you lightly, “You happy?” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “yeah. He’s a good guy, trust me.”

Your dad nodded, “oh, I can tell. Just wanted to make sure.” You thanked him, watching your boyfriend interact with your family. “Now you gotta introduce him to your brothers.” He chuckled at your sigh.

“Do I have permission to punch them if they act like assholes?” You asked, only kind of joking.

Your dad pushed you towards the lawn, “I see nothing.” You smile, grabbing Colson’s hand and leading him away from your grandpa once they’d finished their conversation.

“Okay, so I knew you were freaking out about my parents, so I didn’t want to freak you out even more.” You started, causing a panic look to cross Colson’s face. “My brothers are…” you searched for the words, “assholes. But like, loveable assholes. But they’re probably gonna give you shit, but it’s out of love. But I have no problem hitting them if you want me to.” You smiled.

He raised an eyebrow, “normally I’d say that’s my job but I feel like it’d be easier for your family to forgive you than me.” You laughed, pulling him to the guys and introducing him.

It turns out, your brothers actually really liked Colson, which was somehow worse than them hating him. Because it meant that they stole him from you. When you went back inside to talk more with your mom, your brothers demanded Colson stay outside with them. He seemed happy, so you let him stay, excited that your family was taking to him so well.

An hour later, dinner was almost ready, so your brothers started to set up the folding tables outside, which Colson gladly helped with. You were helping your mom finish up the last of the food, watching your best friend and soulmate through the window with adoration. He was helping your younger cousin put the tablecloth on the table, the scene reminding you of the time Casie and him took you out for a picnic on your birthday. You couldn’t wait to bring her here.

“You chose a good one.” Your grandma commented from behind you, making you jump a little bit. Once you registered her words, you blushed, mumbling out a thank you. “I can tell he really loves you. A granny can always tell.”

You smiled, “I really love him, too.” You turned back to check on him, catching his eye. He sent you a bright grin, making your grandma pat you on the shoulder before walking back to your mom to help her.

The rest of the night was magical, Colson by your side the entire time. Eventually most of your family left, leaving you and Colson to go to bed. You cuddled into his side, a smile on both of your faces. “They all love you, y’know?”

He hummed in response, squeezing your waist. “I love you.”

You chuckled, “you’re so fucking cheesy.”

The next day you were determined to take Colson on a tour of your town, starting with the skate park you spent almost every day at in high school. “We would’ve been best friends when we were kids.” He said as you dragged him through the park.

“We’re best friends now.” You chuckled, pausing to press a kiss to his lips.

He hummed, “I think we’re a little more than best friends but okay.” You rolled your eyes, pulling him further into the park until you spotted a familiar face.

“Little Benny?” You asked, your face lighting up. The younger guy’s eyes widened, running up to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, pulling you in for a hug.

You chuckled, “You were like, 12 the last time I saw you, what the hell?”

The man laughed along with you, “well you were the one who ran off to LA miss big-time producer.”

You smiled, realizing he had probably checked up on you. Benny was about 7 years younger than you and had looked up to you almost his whole life. Seeing him so grown up was a strange experience for you.

You noticed him glancing to Colson, his eyes going wide. “You’re-“

You laughed, “Benny this is Colson, my boyfriend. Also known as-“

“Machine Gun Kelly!” The younger boy exclaimed, making Colson chuckle.

He reached out his hand, which Benny gladly shook, “nice to meet you, man.”

“Kells, this is Benny, my friend from high school. I taught him how to skate.”

“More like your protégé.” A female voice said. Behind Benny came Deanie, another girl his age you had taught. Benny’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him.

You smiled at the two, knowing Benny had liked her since he was in middle school. “Hi Deanie.” You said, the girl smiling back at you. “This is Colson, my boyfriend.”

“Are you gonna skate?” She asked, eyes going wide.

You sighed, shaking your head, “sorry, guys. Maybe later, I’m just showing Colson around the town right now.”

Deanie and Benny both pouted, “damn, she goes off to Hollywood and forgets all about us.” Benny joked, making you all laugh.

You grabbed Colson’s hand, “We’ll see you guys later!” You waved, pulling the man away from the couple.

“It was nice to meet you!” He said, making you smile. “You seriously taught him how to skate?”

You nodded as you continued your trek to the diner you used to work at. “Yep, I taught most of the kids how to skate, although I guess they’re all his age now.”

Colson grinned, “so you’re, like, a legend here.” He commented, but you shook your head, laughing.

“No, I was a loser.”

“Not to those two, you’re not.” He said, swinging your intertwined hands. You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything further.

You finally arrived at the small diner you used to work at. About 50 feet away from the door, Colson’s phone buzzed. “Shit, Slim’s calling.”

“Take it, I’ll grab a table and you can meet me inside.” He smiled thankfully, answering the call as you walked inside.

You immediately spotted Wesley, the cook you’d known since you were 16, through the order window. The smell of the diner was familiar, and for a moment you felt like you were walking in for a shift. You leaned against the bar, “Hey, Wes!” You called, drawing the cook’s eye.

“Little miss Y/N! Is that really you?” You smiled at the old man.

“It sure is! How’s the diner?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You giggled at his response. Wes had opened the diner in the 90’s and swore he’d burn with the building.

You grabbed a booth in the corner, just in case there happened to be any peering eyes in your small town.

Unfortunately, your table was in Liza’s section, a girl who’d hated you since you were kids. You found it quite funny that she was still working at the diner after all this time, silently thankful that you’d gotten out of the town.

She scowled when she saw you but walked over anyways. “What happened? Strike out in Hollywood and now you’re back here trying to get your job back?”

Her voice was just as annoying as it had always been. “Or did your rich sugar daddy dump your ass and now you’re home begging for money?”

You wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk off her face, but you refrained. “Actually-“ You started, but you got cut off by your boyfriend.

“You have a sugar daddy and didn’t tell me about it? Babe I would’ve helped you scam him for so much more.” He smiled, sitting across from you, and grabbing your hand that was resting on the table.

Upon realizing who was sitting across from you, Liza stiffened. “You’re-“

“Y/N’s boyfriend, nice to meet you.” He smiled, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Machine Gun Kelly!” Liza said, her squeaky voice making you cringe.

“I prefer Colson, but yeah.” He sighed, looking back over to see your annoyed expression.

Liza looked between the two of you, a look at disgust on her face. “Seriously? Why the hell are you going out with her? You could do so much better.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock at her blunt rudeness. Colson’s jaw clenched as he spoke, “what, like you?”

The girl shrugged, not catching the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. “I’m just saying, I don’t know what she’s told you but she’s a talentless bitch whose probably only dating you for money or fame, or both.”

Luckily, Wes came out to the front of the house to greet Colson, stopping him from punching a girl in the middle of the restaurant. “Nice to meet you, man. I’m Wes, owner, cook, and the best boss Y/N has ever had.” Colson shook his hand, still glaring at Liza.

“Yep.” You agreed with the man. Your voice was soft to calm Colson down, which worked a little bit.

Colson shot the man a grin, “nice to meet you, Wes. Y/N talks about this place all the time.”

The look of pride on Wes’s face was unforgettable. “Well, if you two need anything, just let me know.”

Colson looked towards Liza, annoyance returning to his features, “do you think we could get a new waiter?”

You almost laughed seeing the look of shock on her features, but Wes happily obliged, handing your table over to a newer waitress. Liza had steam coming out of her ears, but you ignored her.

“Thank you.” You muttered. “She’s hated me since we were kids.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah I could tell. Couldn’t have her talking shit like that.” He squeezed your hand, “now, what’s good here?”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

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meetmymouth · 4 years ago

Text

AUBADE ; HARRY STYLES

WORD COUNT: 12k

warnings: smut, smoking, alcohol consumption.

thank you @harryandhockey and @burberryharold for beta-ing this baby, you guys are the sweetest angels!

When the doorbell goes off for the third time that night, she groans and tosses the lipstick on her bed, then makes her way towards the door. Through the stained glass, she sees a tall figure and rolls her eyes.

“Look, this is the third time- oh. It’s you.”

The blonde raises her eyebrows, “Who were you expecting? Also wow, I feel so welcome, thank you.”

“Sorry,” the door closes behind Charlotte, and they walk inside.

Once in the tiny kitchen, kettle already on, she takes time to coat her eyelashes with mascara.

“Who did you think I was, that was quite the welcome.”

“Couple of girls kept knocking on the door. Something about a survey. I’ve no idea. Hey, can you help me put this on?” She takes a necklace out of her jean pocket and hands it over.

It’s Thursday, which means happy hour at their local pub and after that, they’d take N31 towards Camden to listen to a friend of Charlotte’s, an upcoming indie artist. She usually didn’t like going out on weekdays since she worked 8 to 4 and she would need to wake up at 6AM sharp to get ready and leave her flat for her Friday shift. But ever since Charlotte started working for the touring musician Harry Styles, they saw each other twice- once when they toured England and the second one being right before Charlotte left for tour. Being close friends since school, it was safe to say that she felt her absence and missed her friend dearly but were also so proud of her for everything she’d achieved.

So when Charlotte came home during their break, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friend and if it meant spending her Friday shift hungover while cleaning up animal urine and puke from all kinds of animals, then so be it.

“There,” Charlotte pats her on the neck after she clasps the necklace and she turns around, hand reaching to turn the kettle off.

“Ta. When are we leaving? And do you think I should go for my Adidas or the boots?” She points at the heeled boots, half white half black by the kitchen entrance and Charlotte follows her gaze as she sips the hot beverage.

She looks at the boots, then her, then the boots again, “The boots for fuckin’ sure. They’re sick- where’d you get them?”

“Depop,” She lets out a chuckle, “Think they’re Topshop, ‘m not sure. Should we leave? Y’know I walk dead slow and now that I’m wearin’ the boots…”

“You really do...go get your shit, I’ll wash this.”

They’re gathered around a round table, the green paint of the wooden table beginning to chip, and everyone’s got drinks of their own, G&T being the most popular choice. There are only five of them, Charlotte, her, Phoebe and her girlfriend Jamie, and they’re chatting about anything and everything until Charlotte turns to her, straw between her red lips.

“So-”

“Oh dear, what have you done,” she cuts her off and earns a glare from her, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Phoebe and Jamie cross their arms as if they’re getting ready for their usual bickering.

“Fuck you,” Charlotte sighs, “I didn’t do anything. I just invited some more people to Julien’s show and wanted to...kinda ask if that’s alright with you”

“Oh,” she looks around the table, finding the other girls looking at their phones and she turns to Charlotte, “It’s fine. Who are they?”

Phoebe snorts at that and her eyebrows raise in question. She gives Phoebe a look, but Charlotte’s quicker as she throws a damp tissue at the blonde and Jamie laughs when it lands back on Charlotte’s lap. “You know Sarah from the band?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She remembers meeting Sarah at Charlotte’s new flat after she moved to London, the brunette bringing a cute snake plant and a weird- but cute tea set as a housewarming gift and they got on well. They talked about plants, Sarah giving her tips on how to keep certain plants alive, and she asked her lots of questions about her experience being a woman, especially a drummer in the music industry. Sarah was very soft spoken; she spoke as if she was talking to a baby, but she always made sure to maintain eye contact when she was having a conversation with you, listening and nodding when appropriate so that you felt special and...understood. She was lovely, which was why she found it weird how Charlotte was acting awkward about her joining them tonight.

“And her boyfriend, Mitch, of course,” Charlotte adds and she nods, motioning for her to keep going. “And Harry.”

“Harry Styles?”

“Oh boy,” Jamie whistles.

“Obviously,” Charlotte sucks on her straw, slurping her drink, “Yeah, him,” she repeats, this time softer.

“I...why?” She chooses to ask, surprised as she’d like to think Harry Styles as this unreachable, ever-so-busy person who wouldn’t be interested in a night out like this. She turns to Phoebe, and then Jamie, and they respond with a shrug as Phoebe goes back to cuddling into Jamie’s side.

“What do you mean why?” Charlotte places her drink on the table, “It would be rude not to since I asked Sarah and Mitch.”

“Well, I just mean, isn’t he busy?”

Jamie whistles again and sings her name, “You got a crush, babes?”

“Nonsense, never even met the guy- which,” she looks around the table, “-is one of the reasons why I was confused. Anyway, it doesn't matter,” she shrugs and turns to Charlotte, “I’m not bothered, Lotts, it’s totally fine.”

“Y’sure?”

She gives her a nod, “I just find him intimidating and don’t think he’d be into indie, that’s all.”

It was true. Despite having not met Mr. Harry Styles, deep down she knew he’d be intimidating because he was so good looking and well, just like most people, she loved One Direction. She was a big fan, she even got told off by her stepmother once when she was younger because apparently the tape she used to hang her One Direction posters was ruining the walls. She often referred to them as twinks, and she didn’t even know what it meant until she was older. She remembers how she got made fun of at sixth form because one of the girls found her old Tumblr and told everyone about it. Harry’s never been her favourite though. Not because she didn’t find him attractive, not at all. It was because he was too attractive and was everyone’s favourite so whenever asked, she’d shrug and tell people how she found Louis funny, and then Zayn because ’he’s the hottest’.

Long story short, despite her friendship with Charlotte, she’d never met Harry, never had the opportunity to attend one of his shows because she was either too busy or they were playing in a different country and she simply couldn’t afford it. So tonight would be the first time they’d get to be in the same place and to say that she was nervous would be an understatement. And her, she always thought she was awkward. Way too awkward for social gatherings but she liked going out regardless, drinking cheap alcohol and dancing to shitty songs in an equally shitty pub. She loved being a student. Loved the freedom the title had given her. What’s your occupation, she’d get asked from time to time. Student, she’d say without hesitating. She was a student. She didn’t have to be anything else for three years. Sure, she was also working part time at an animal shelter but for the most part, she loved being a student. That’s how she met Phoebe, and then Jamie. In a way, she was their matchmaker.

She remembers meeting Phoebe last year when they had a class together. She was the first person to smile at her in the overcrowded lecture theatre and she remembers thinking how nice Phoebe’s green fringe looked. Meeting Jamie though, was funny. Phoebe usually got weird when they joked about it since she met Jamie before Phoebe did on Tinder, even went on a date with her, and then right before she was about to ghost her, she thought of how similar Phoebe and Jamie were. It was then that she made Phoebe go on a date with Jamie, and after a month of pining, they got together. Even though they were similar, she always thought that they actually completed each other, Jamie being the logical one and Phoebe encouraging Jamie to let loose from time to time and live in the moment.

Charlotte reaches and boops her nose, “He’s a musician, he loves all kinds of music. He won’t eat you, babe. He’s nice, I promise.”

Phoebe knocks on the wood, getting everyone’s attention, “Can we get a picture with him? An autograph?”

She feels a throbbing pain in her feet, toes in particular once they’re in and they wait for Phoebe and Jamie to buy their drinks, knowing she’d wake up with blisters in the morning. Charlotte takes out her phone and presumably texts the others, letting them know they were already here. She felt nervous. Nervous because she always thought she was rubbish when it came to meeting new people; they either thought she was too intimidating or rude but in reality, it was only because she always felt anxious meeting new people and would rather stay quiet than talking nonsense.

She takes time to analyse her outfit, a pair of black mom jeans and her boots, oh the boots who were currently grilling her feet. Then she tries to adjust her lace bodysuit, all of a sudden feeling super self conscious about the ”revealing” outfit. She adjusts the top, hoping her tits weren’t out before, and sighs when she touches the oversized blazer, rolling up the sleeves a bit more since it was beginning to get warm, too warm for her liking inside. Considering how she often felt self conscious about her arms, she felt more comfortable with the blazer over the sexy bodysuit.

“So,” she starts, eyes studying the crowded bar before her gaze stops at Charlotte, “Are they here?”

Charlotte looks up from her phone and nods, leaning her head on her shoulder. She feels her arm going around her waist and smiles, nudging her head with hers and she looks up, giving her a smile of her own. “What’s up, blondie?” she asks, hand coming up to ruffle Charlotte’s fringe.

She sighs, “Just tired, to be honest. I’m glad I wore trainers.”

“At least one of us is happy about their shoe choice.”

They watch as Phoebe and Jamie walk towards them, the brunette handing her a tall glass as Phoebe hands Charlotte her own drink. “When’s she on?”

Everyone turns to Charlotte, “Half an hour, maybe?”

“When are your friends coming? It’s getting quite...stuffy in here,” Jamie looks around and Phoebe nods, hands going around Jamie’s waist to pull the brunette into her.

“I texted Sarah and she said Harry was parking the car- oh, I see Mitch.”

They all look around, and she spots the tall guy with long hair, walking towards them with Sarah and Harry behind. She gulps and tries to look away, praying that no one takes notice of her sweaty forehead and shaky hands.

As the trio walk towards them, she takes a moment to examine Harry, and his outfit. Even in the dimly lit bar, she’s almost sure the high waisted trousers he has on are navy, and he’s got a tan...or a beige shirt tucked in them, chest on full display and she notices a cross necklace, looking as if it was made for his pretty neck. She clears her throat as quietly as she can and looks down but not before she takes a peek at his shoes, and she almost snorts at the choice of red boots he’s got on, noticing how everyone had trainers on while the two of them had what looked like very uncomfortable boots on.

To be honest, she thinks, he looks pretty good. She looks around them, noticing how most guys had jeans and ugly trainers on whereas Harry looked like he made quite the effort with his outfit but she also knows that even if he turned up in jeans and ugly trainers, he would still look amazing. Damn Harry Styles. Was she blushing?

The three of them are in their space now, close enough so she can make out Sarah’s overpowering perfume, and she clears her throat once again when Charlotte embraces Sarah first, then Mitch. Before she can watch her hug Harry, Sarah’s in front of her.

“Hi,” she smiles, going in for a hug, “It’s so nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” she says and her voice comes out muffled since they’re still hugging and she hopes her hair smells decent because Sarah’s face is pressed against her neck and hair.

“It’s nice to see you too! How have you been?”

“‘Been alright, I suppose!” She beams at her and turns to the man with long hair, “This is Mitch.”

As Sarah introduces everyone with Mitch, she feels Harry’s eyes on her, though she can’t turn her head and meet his gaze because that’d be rude seeing how Mitch is about to reach and give her a one armed hug. Alright then, she thinks, they’re a hugger. Then, it’s Harry’s turn. She looks at him, seeing how his eyes are focused on Phoebe and Jamie as he gives them both a warm smile before Charlotte starts talking again, introducing everyone to Phoebe and Jamie, then everyone turns to her, and she feels her face heat up seeing how everyone’s attention is on her now. She knows it’s her turn.

Harry takes a step forward and her earlier thoughts are confirmed when she can finally make out the colour of his trousers. “Hey, ‘m Harry,” he gives her a smile without waiting for Charlotte to speak, “Nice meeting you,” he comes closer and wraps an arm around her, engulfing her in a hug but it’s definitely different from Mitch or Sarah’s hug. It’s tight, much warmer and he’s got both arms around her, palms flat against her back as he rubs her back.

And of course she responds with the same warmness and hugs him back, “Hiya,” she introduces herself, and once they pull apart, he repeats her name and it sounds like poetry, something so personal and...erotic. But maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s just his deep voice making her feel that way.

Despite the moment they shared, if she could call it that, felt like hours, it was merely a minute. And it wasn’t like in the films where they hug, everything around them slowing down as the people watch in awe. No, not at all. When she looks around, she sees that everyone’s been already mingling, Phoebe and Jamie smiling at each other while they sipped their drinks, and Mitch is nowhere to be seen, possibly at the bar getting drinks.

Harry turns to Charlotte with a grin, “So is she any good, should we replace you with her?” He says, nudging her with his hip.

That sort of makes her smile, seeing Harry so carefree and friendly with the people who are essentially working for him. Even though she doesn’t know Harry Styles like they do, like Charlotte does, she knows he considers these people to be his friends and colleagues rather than his employees. It’s also fun seeing him this friendly with her best friend, and she feels proud, as she always does, knowing Charlotte has made herself great friends and that she clearly enjoys working with these people.

Charlotte nudges him back, “She’s great, I wouldn’t mind being replaced by her. Oh, there she is,” she points at the stage, and everyone turns to look at the pink-haired girl on the tiny stage with a sleek looking acoustic guitar on her side. As the others start talking about Julien, she finally takes the opportunity to look at Harry. Once their eyes meet, he gives her a smile, dimples on full display, and she swears she could see him blush when he looks down after she beamed at him. Even if he did blush though, he recovers quickly when he’s offered a drink and he mutters a thank you to Mitch, then lifts the slice of lime off the rim of his glass and sucks it into his mouth and she deems it as a good time to look away.

And she does, when she feels Sarah close, and she turns to her, Sarah welcoming her with a smile, “How’s uni? It’s your last year, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” she clears her throat, “It’s alright. Exhausting, but alright.”

“You’re working too, right?”

“Yeah, I work at an animal shelter.”

“It must be exhausting.”

“It is,” she gives her a nod, “I work three days a week and I also have classes so I only have Sundays off. I’ll probably leave and focus on uni after Christmas break though, I have my dissertation next semester.”

“Oh, cool! I miss being a student,” she purses her lips and turns to Harry, who had been listening to their conversation, his pretty fingers, most of them adorned with equally pretty rings, wrapped around the tall glass, “You probably can’t relate, H, can ya?”

He rolls her eyes but laughs regardless, “Piss off.”

Despite the chatter around them, it’s not ridiculously loud so they can carry a conversation without having to shout. They fall into an easy conversation, everyone joining in, and all of a sudden a pink neon light falls over them and they all turn to the stage. Julien starts singing, and all the chatter around them dies down, some people already starting to sing the words back at her.

She looks away from the stage for a minute and catches Harry’s gaze from across the room. They’re close enough for her to make out a few droplets of sweat on Harry’s forehead, and their eyes meet as he gives her a smile, eyes sparkling with mischief, then brings the glass up to his mouth. She watches as his top lip rests on the rim before he lifts it to his mouth and when she looks up, she sees him still looking at, gaze unwavering and mouth curled upwards in a sly smirk. She was caught. She was caught and he looked like he was loving and devouring every second of it.

Julien takes a break, promising to come back with a brand new song from her upcoming EP, and there’s a group of people making their way towards the exit, presumably to have a smoke and get some fresh air.

“Where’s she gone?” Charlotte huffs, eyes searching the room for the pink haired girl.

“She’s over there,” Phoebe points at Julien and they all turn to where she’s pointing at, spotting Julien near the bar with a drink in hand.

“Is she flirting?”

“She’s got groupies already?” she says after she takes her eyes off of Harry and everyone laughs.

Charlotte comes closer and nudges her shoulder against her, “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” “Be quiet,” she nudges back, and their group falls back into their conversation except Harry, who keeps staring at her and she gulps, hands reaching to feel her blazer pockets.

“Right,” she mutters, “It’s time to poison myself. I’m going out for a fag,” once she feels the bulge in her pocket, she turns to Charlotte, “Send me a text when she’s back on, yeah?”

“I’ll come with.”

She looks up at Harry, surprised, but nods, waiting for him to follow her outside. Even though she tries her best not to make eye contact with anyone as they leave, she’s aware of them watching them, everyone in their group equally surprised, but they keep walking, Harry following quietly behind. Once they pass the smelly bodies, they’re finally outside, the wind licking her face once she steps out and she tries to hug herself closer, seeing how the thin blazer’s not doing a good job at keeping her warm.

Harry wishes he’d brought a coat.

They’re quiet as he follows her to a quiet corner, only a few people turning their heads their way, presumably recognising him, and they stop near a brick wall and she takes her tobacco out of her left pocket. She looks up, catching him staring at her ring-clad fingers wrapped around the dark green packet, and she clears her throat, making him look up at her. They share a smile, both feeling at ease with the comfortable silence between them. She spots a wooden bench near and sits down, hands already working the packet open. When she starts tearing the tobacco apart, Harry can’t help but note how quickly she’s working it between her fingers, and he’s almost certain she’s been doing this for years.

“Want one?” She asks and he saunters forward, coming to stand in front of her with hands in his pockets.

He shrugs and she takes that as a yes, fingers pausing their work on the tobacco to take out something that resembles a cigarette and it’s only when she pushes it from the bottom that Harry realises they’re filters. Placing one between her lips, her fingers dip into her pocket once again to retrieve some papers and Harry finds himself unable to look away from her lips and how pretty they look with something between them.

He looks down at her lap, where the packet of tobacco is, seeing her fingers work swiftly as she fills the thin paper, and despite knowing better not to glamorise something as horrible and disgusting as smoking, he takes his time to admire the way she pushes down the tobacco with her index finger, presumably trying to fit and secure everything inside the paper. Taking the filter from between her lips, she places it inside the paper, at the very end, and her fingers start rolling.

Oh fuck, he thinks, knowing what’s about to come. Unable to look away, he watches as she brings it up to her mouth and licks a long stripe along the paper, and despite the lack of lighting around them, his eyes make out her pink tongue moving along the paper and it doesn’t come as a surprise when he feels a sudden twitch in his trousers at the unholy image before his eyes.

“There,” she hands him the rolled up cigarette, “Hope you don’t mind that I licked?”

He wants to laugh because of course he doesn’t mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed it, according to the knot in his stomach and his twitching cock in his underwear. He enjoyed it so much that he now couldn’t stop imagining her mouth doing other things, preferably dirty things with, or to him.

“Nah, it’s all good, thanks.”

“No probs. Didn’t take you as the smoking type,” she lets it slip out.

“I...don’t smoke, really. Only sometimes. When I’m drinking. Which…” He looks at the cigarette between her fingers, “...isn’t that often.”

She notices the nervousness that tinges his words, and it makes her feel better knowing he’s also as awkward as her. “Fair,” she sends him a smile and repeats all the steps on her own rollie, putting it between her lips just like Harry, and she takes her lighter out of the same pocket. She lights her own first and reaches to light his, and he sort of bends over until his cigarette reaches the lighter. They both take a hefty drag of their cigarettes and she blows the smoke out first, Harry watching her pursed lips as he lets out his own next, both of their cigarette smoke swirling in the air and joining in together.

He takes it out of his mouth and lets his arm dangle on his side, cigarette between his fingers, and watches as she takes another drag before fumbling with the packet on her lap, putting everything back in her pocket haphazardly.

“Do you go to uni in London, or?”

“Westminster, yeah,” she takes another drag and notices how Harry hasn’t taken another one of his since.

“Nice,” he says and a grin stretches over his face, “Charlotte talks about you a lot.”

“She does?”

“Yeah, all the time. If I didn’t know about her boyfriend I’d say she was in love with you,” he laughs and gestured to the lighter in her hand and she lets him take the lighter from her hand, watching as the flame lick at the cigarette between Harry’s lip and he takes a long drag. “I mean, we...the band feel like we already know you. It’s sweet, how much she cares about you.”

“Well, I’m pretty hard not to love, you know.”

He blows out the smoke, a chuckle escaping his mouth, “That right?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking great.”

“Well, I-”

He gets interrupted by her phone going off and a pout forms on his face. She huffs, looking around, then throws the cigarette on the ground despite the sign and he does the same, not feeling bad in the slightest. “We going in?” He asks, like a lost puppy waiting for his owner’s command.

“I guess. Is it bad that I don’t want to? Like...does that make me a bad friend?”

“Nah. I...I kinda wanted to stay here too. I was enjoying our conversation.”

She sends him a grin, eyes mischievous, and stops walking, “You telling me you weren’t bored to death by my dry ass conversation?”

“Dry? You opened up and talked about your narcissistic behaviours, that’s not boring, darling,” he smirks and she rolls her eyes, hand reaching to slap his chest and it feels easy, like they’ve known each other for years. “Alright, alright, ’m just messing with you.”

She starts walking again, a few steps ahead of him, and he follows, passing three girls with phones up to their faces.

It’s easy, he thinks, it’s easy with her.

People in the bar begin to leave one by one, and it’s only their small group and a few others left, some of them still sipping their drinks and the others talking and laughing. Some even come up to Julien, who’s sipping her water from a reusable water bottle as Charlotte keeps snapping pictures of her, and they all congratulate her, telling her how excited they are about the EP. She’s all smiles, fringe sticking to her forehead due to sweat, and her long arms are equally sweaty, dressed in a tight black dress with striped knee high socks adorning her long legs, and a pair of platform Mary Janes.

“So,” Harry says, folding his arms across his chest, “Do you have any plans for October?”

Mitch snorts across him and Julien tilts her head, puzzled, “Erm...I’ve no idea, to be honest. It’s months away and God knows I’m shite at thinking ahead. That’s why I’m friends with this lot,” she gestures to their tiny group, causing Charlotte to snort and Julien continues, turning her attention to her who’s playing with the hem of her blazer, “This one though...”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Oi, what’s crawled up your bum, eh?” Julien turns to Harry again, catching how his gaze flickered over her body, then her face instead of looking at Julien and she finds herself smirking at the tension between the two.

“We’re thinking of putting a show together for Halloween. I have a bunch of new and upcoming artists in my mind that I’d love to see perform that night. Would you be interested?” Harry’s attention is back on Julien and he watches as the girl gasps, eyes widening in excitement.

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells, almost dropping her water bottle and they all laugh, Charlotte reaching to flip her on the forehead and she slaps her freshly-manicured hand away, “You’re not taking the piss, are you?”

Harry laughs, “Am definitely not. I love your vibe. That’s actually one of the reasons why I asked Charlotte if I could come tonight,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair, the strands gliding easily between his long fingers.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiles at Julien, “He’s on a hunt. He thinks he’s one of those talent agents. Just say yes, Jules, it’ll be fun.”

“Holy fuck. Yes. Fuck, yes. Of fucking course, yes!”

They all laugh when she lunges herself at Harry, arms wrapping around his neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck I could literally kiss you right now but I won’t, I’ve been watching you both undress each other with your eyes all night,” arms still around Harry’s neck, Julien turns her head towards her, whom Harry’s been looking at all night, and gives her a wink before breaking their hug. “So, do I have to do anything? What do I have to do? Fuck, I’m so bad at this-”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts, “It’s fine. Relax. Are you signed with anyone? Have a manager?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m with Gleam, my manager, Alana, she’s sick that’s why she wasn't here tonight.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Just give me your phone number and your manager’s contact details and we’ll sort everything out. Hey- relax, it’s gonna be fun!” He reaches and gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“I called an Uber,” Sarah says after her phone goes off, “And it looks like…” she taps on the screen a few times, “Hassan is here.”

“We could’ve gotten maccies,” she says, pouting, as her head rests on Charlotte’s shoulder.

Sarah sighs, cuddling closer into Mitch’s side, “We’re leaving for Brighton tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, Sarah’s making us wake up at, like, five,” Mitch grumbles.

They all start walking towards the exit, Julien and Harry in the back talking about the show as Charlotte links her arm with her as they follow behind the others. As they walk, she remembers how Harry arrived with Sarah and Mitch, meaning they shared a ride, and she turns to look at Harry who seems to be in deep conversation as he waves his hands around.

She feels hot all of a sudden, remembering how neither of them wanted to go inside earlier, how good he looked and how his voice sounded, deep, so deep, when his attention was only on her and not the girl on the stage or his drink or the people around them. As selfish as it sounds, she wanted all his attention on her, she wanted him to only look at her, see her, think of her, and she feels foolish because they only met tonight, and their conversation earlier didn’t last that long.

Once they’re outside, everyone sighs, almost in relief as the fresh air fills their lungs, and everyone bids their goodbyes to Sarah and Mitch, then Phoebe starts complaining about how uncomfortable and tired she was.

“That’s it from us, folks, my wife needs a shower,” Jamie pinches Phoebe’s cheek as Phoebe blushes, swatting her hand away.

She turns to Harry for a second and he’s just standing there, arms folded with an expression she’s unable to read, and Julien laughs, muttering something about catching a black cab since she now has money to waste.

Everyone leaves and it’s only them, and Charlotte comes closer to her as she nudges her hip with hers, “Hey. Is it cool if Harry gives you a ride? Tom’s picking me up.”

She panics and gives her a puzzled look. A car ride with Harry. Alone. Just the two of them.

She swallows, “How come you never mention it?”

“He just texted me, we’re driving up to Manc. Will you be okay?” She reaches and strokes her cheek, then turns to Harry, as if the question was directed at both of them.

“Well, yeah...I mean- I’ll call a Bolt or something-”

“It’s fine, I can give you a ride,” Harry says, hands now in his pockets. He looks like he’s cold too, considering how he’s only wearing a thin shirt and his chest is on full display, letting the breeze softly lick at the flesh.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother, I can take a Bolt. Really, it’s fine.”

“I insist...whereabouts is your place?”

“Ehm,” she sniffs and her eyes look for Charlotte for a moment, and when she spots her, she’s watching them despite the phone pressed against her ear. “Marylebone.”

“Great! That alright with you?”

She looks at Charlotte again, the short haired girl failing to meet her gaze, and she turns to Harry again, lips pursed, “I guess- I mean...sure. Okay.”

Harry beams at that, the dimple on his left cheek widening with the smile, and she wants to reach out and touch it, place her finger there. She doesn’t though. Instead, she gives him a smile and looks down at her boots, feeling all giddy inside with the realisation that she’d be alone with Harry for a while and it would also be away from any prying eyes, in the warmth of his car.

Charlotte comes back and reaches for her, giving her a big hug as she buries her head in her neck, and she involuntarily breathes in the smell of cigarettes and Charlotte’s personal favourite, Chanel no. 5.

“Text me when you’re home, yeah? And text me if you need anything...he’s nice, I promise,” she whispers the last part, as if she’s letting her in on a secret, then reaches for Harry to give him a hug.

“Drive safe,” she says, walking backwards, “I mean it.”

“I will. Precious cargo, am I right?”

Harry opens the door for her and waits for her to get in, her lips form the words ‘thank you’, and once they’re both inside, seatbelts on, Harry sighs and tries to fix his creased shirt. She watches his hands, the rings catching the light coming from a lamppost outside, creating beams, and she notices the single, nearly-chipped gold nail polish on his left pinky.

“So…” they both say at the same time and he laughs, shaking his head, and a few strands fall to his eyes.

She chuckles too, eyes falling to her hands on her lap as she fiddles with them. “I think we’ve been set up,” she mumbles and looks up at him, finding him watching her carefully with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m usually not this dumb.”

“Maybe you wanted play dumb, hm?” He gives her a smile, causing her to scoff, and he surprises them both when his left hand reaches to stroke her cheek, making goosebumps appear on her skin and she swears she could hear her breath hitch at the warm touch, feeling hot all over.

They stare at each other, his hand still on her cheek, and she swallows, “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Is this okay?” He asks, gesturing at the touch, voice as soft and smooth as honey.

She nods, because it is. It is more than okay and if it were up to her, they’d already be kissing, tasting each other’s dirty, sweaty skin and touching each other all over, feeling each other’s bodies...she wanted all of that.

She swallows again, his gaze shifting from her face to her neck, then lower and lower until it reaches her boobs. They look divine, he thinks, despite the lack of lighting in his car, they look absolutely gorgeous, sort of spilling out from the lace material and he gulps, hand beginning to make its way down to her neck. He rests it there as long fingers caress the side of her neck, discovering a few moles there, and he looks up at her, only to find her eyes fixed on his lap. He looks down to, the slight tent not coming as a surprise, and he gives her a grin, the other hand coming to rest atop his bulge.

“Hm?” He hums as he waits for her answer despite knowing what she would say.

She clears her throat and looks around, seeing the almost empty parking lot all dark except the stop sign near the exit, and turns her attention back to Harry.

“Yes. It’s okay.”

“Mmm,” his fingers curl around her throat, thumb stroking the flesh there, “Thank you, love. Can I kiss you?”

“You can...Please,” she practically moans when his thumb presses a sweet spot on her neck and he gives her a smile, hand reaching to unbuckle both of their seatbelts with a click.

It doesn’t happen that fast. First, he gives her a look, almost as if he’s trying to remember where her lips are and the nose, then her eyes...he keeps looking, and looking, and he brings his hand up to her mouth, resting his thumb on her bottom lip as her eyes shift downwards with the movement. While he watches her, she takes her time to watch him, his face, and she feels something bubbling inside her, much like the bubbles that rise to the top when you open a coke bottle.

Pressure, she thinks, pressure and the need to devour him. Thus, without thinking too much, she reaches and grabs him by the nape of his neck, his hand falling atop the car seat as their lips meet, both of them hungry for each other’s touch as their teeth clash and Harry lets out a hiss when she bites his bottom lip, suckining it into her mouth.

His hands go up to her cheeks, pushing her far enough to look into her face and eyes in particular and he smiles, the inside of his palms feeling the soft peach fuzz on her face. When she lunges forward to continue their kiss, he stops her, thumb stroking her cheekbones as she lets out a huff, and he chuckles, “Slow, baby, slow. We’ve got time. I want to feel you, taste you as much as I can, yeah?”

She nods, letting him stroke the side of her face some more and feel her skin against his soft hands before he starts leaning in, this time slow, so slow that it feels like hours to her. Before she closes her eyes, she catches a glimpse of his pink tongue dart out to lick his lips, and he finally captures her top lip, sucking it into his mouth softly and she melts under his touch, her mouth pursed as she starts responding with her own kisses. Their lips, she feels, fit together like a puzzle piece.

Harry’s tongue swipes across her bottom lip and she opens wider, letting him lick into her mouth further. It’s hot, wet, and she feels herself getting wetter and wetter as the smooch noises grow louder with each kiss. His hands are now cupping both of her cheeks, and as he presses wet pecks on her parted mouth, one of his thumbs travel down to her mouth and he stops their kiss, and she opens her eyes, giving him a puzzled look.

He shushes her, lips pursed as he does so, and her eyes watches the movement, wanting to feel them all over her body now that she knows how he feels and tastes like. He presses his thumb against her bottom lip, then into her mouth and pulls her closer to him. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head when she closes her mouth around his thumb, sucking it like a lolly, and his cock twitches in his trousers again as he watches the way she sucks on his flesh, humming around it as if she’s having the most delicious meal of her life.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “Y’like playing with me, don’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes his thumb out of her mouth with a pop and she holds him by the wrist, placing his hand on one of her boobs and Harry lets her warm hands and the feeling of lace overpower him as he gives her boob a squeeze, then travels his hand down to where he supposes her nipple is and brushes a thumb over it, a beaming grin stretching across his face when he feels her pebbled nipple under his thumb.

When he looks at her face, she’s biting her lips, eyes shut, and he bites his own lips as he traps her covered nipple between his thumb and index finger, tweaking it gently which causes her to breathe out a moan, toes curling involuntarily inside her boots. He tugs at it, then his hand travels up and he looks at her, as if to ask her permission for what he’s about to do. And she nods, of course she does, and she feels her upper torso getting sore from the position they’ve been in but she lets it go, reaching for his hand near her boob and places it on top of his, encouraging him to keep going.

With her hand on top of his, he slides the bodysuit down from the top, and he feels his cock twitch in interest so he has to bring his other hand down to press against his bulge over his trousers in hopes of relieving some of the tension. He plays with her nipple, tweaking and squeezing it between his fingers before finally leaning to capture the pebbled nipple into his mouth. “God damn, your tits...so fuckin’ hot, baby,” he bites her nipple and she shudders, back arching in pleasure. “Wanna do everything with you...wanna fuck you- wanna fuck these tits,” he whispers against her nipple, now wet with his spit, and his hot breath sends chills down her spine.

It’s warm, his mouth, so warm and wet around her hard nipples and she lets out another moan, arms wrapping around his neck and she tries to press against him closer. “Fuck,” a moan leaver her mouth, “Please, Harry, fuck me. Do something, just- ‘m so wet.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Jesus,” he presses a kiss to her nipple before he frees her other boob from the fabric, “You’re so fuckin’ hot. Got me so fuckin’ hard, just look at these gorgeous tits, baby. Bet your cunt’s even more gorgeous, hm?” He whispers, hands already on the other boob, squeezing the nipple and he watches as it hardens, looking so pretty and puckered for him and he gets his mouth on that one too, licking across the nipple before he bites it into his mouth.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” He touches her shoulder, squeezing her there over the blazer, and when he sees the hesitation in her eyes, he travels his hand up to her neck and strokes it there, “Y’don’t have to, darling. However you’re comfortable.”

“No,” she says ever so softly, “It’s okay.”

He smiles at her as she takes the jacket off and throws it somewhere at her feet. Harry grabs her by the neck and brings her in for another kiss but this time, it’s slow. And sweet. Slow, sweet, and warm, so warm that she feels it in her chest, in her stomach, and it reaches everywhere, the kiss warming anything and everything inside her. He swipes a tongue across her bottom lip before pulling away, and places both hands on her boobs, squeezing them, mouth popping open as he watches them in awe.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he brings one of his hands to the front of his trousers and the heels of his palms press against the bulge, but instead of giving him some relief, the touch makes him hiss, wishing for something softer, warmer.

“Can I fuck you? I need to fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he whispers and she nods, tongue darting out to lick her dry lips and he nods as well, looking around inside the car, swiftly examining the tinted black windows before he turns to her, “I hate that I’m about to fuck that pretty pussy in the backseat of my car instead of a comfortable bed but I need it so bad, sweetheart, I need you,” he licks his lips, “That okay?”

“Yes...more than.”

He helps her move to the backseat, boobs still hanging from the top, and he joins her in the backseat quickly. They’re closer now, nothing serving as a barrier between them, and with the way they’re facing each other, she can make out a tiny pimple on the side of his nose as well as a little mole on his forehead. Her gaze falls to his bulge again, and he’s already fumbling to get them off. With a swallow, she shuts her eyes so she doesn’t see Harry watching her intently, dilated pupils fixated on her sweaty skin, her lips in particular.

He leans in and presses an open mouth kiss to her damp skin, the touch making her open her eyes.

Take it off” she whispers, voice as sweet as honey, “Come on, I want you to fuck me,” she breathes against his hair, his head now in the crook of her neck, and she feels him nod, his hands coming to rest atop hers.

He fumbles with the button with shaky hands, her hands coming to rest on Harry’s waist and he sighs in relief when he hears the zipper. He lowers his trousers along with his underwear clumsily, the pile of material pooling around his ankles. He’s hard and leaking already, the tip an angry shade of red, and she takes a few seconds to admire the thickness of his cock and how pretty it looks, his dark, coarse pubic hair making her mouth water as she imagines deepthroating him, nuzzling the hair at the base of his cock.

Harry looks up and she’s got one hand on her boob while the other rubs herself through her jeans, presumably feeling aroused with the way the fabric is feeling against her pussy. A low, choked ‘fuck’ leaves his mouth following a growl as his long fingers begin unbuttoning the beige shirt and she watches, bottom lip trapped between her teeth with fingers rubbing herself.

Once it’s unbuttoned, he’s quick to get his hands on her jeans, eyes briefly searching for something in hers before he starts unbuttoning them. She stops him and bends over to take her boots off and he watches her back, hand reaching involuntarily to travel his fingers down her spine, stroking her waist before he bends forward to place a kiss on there as she keeps fumbling with her boots. Once they’re off, he’s quick to help her get the jeans off too, and he throws them in the front seat, smiling when she hears her giggle.

“Alright, Miss Giggles?” he says softly, palm resting on top of her thigh as one of his hands reaches and strokes the side of her face, fingers playing in her wild strands of hair.

She bites her lip again, giving him a nod, and he brings her face into his, lips pressing a tender kiss to her chin before he opens his mouth slightly and grazes his teeth across the flesh, and he presses a final, loud kiss there before he pulls away with a pop, leaving her chin all shiny and wet with his saliva. He lowers his eyes and spots her thong, fabric too tiny and flimsy to cover all the areas of her pussy, and he lets out a groan at the sight, hand immediately reaching to touch what’s under her little thong.

“So pretty, darling...so, so pretty,” he murmurs and she watches with parted legs as he positions his middle finger against her pussy over the black lace, thin, so he feels just how warm and wet she is between her folds. This makes him pause to look down at his cock, just to make sure he’s not about to spill all over the carseat since he feels the pleasure at the tip of his cock, ready to explode right then and there. “How can anyone ever resist you, hm? This pretty girl…” with one hand still between her legs, he reaches with his other hand and ghosts his thumb over her nipple, his other hand working her thong as he pulls it to the side, “...this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, making her eyes lull shut at the compliments.

She parts her legs wider to give him more room to work with, and he grins as he looks up at her hungry eyes, knowing what she’s asking for. And god, is he about to give her what she wants. The way she looks, not just half naked but from the moment he’d caught a glimpse of the grumpy girl across the room, it’s been driving him insane. Not that she was rude or looked bored, but she looked cute, kinda nervous, as if she too was as uncomfortable as Harry by the prying eyes and tipsy chatter around them.

From the moment they were introduced, Harry knew she didn’t particularly like to be looked at. Maybe he was being judgmental, or reading too much into things, but he got the impression that she was sort of nervous to be around people, especially new people. He tried his hardest not to be some weirdo, an utter creep who kept looking at the beautiful girl across him but truth be told, it wasn’t the first time Harry had seen the girl’s face.

He knew of her, stories about her, from Charlotte, and saw numerous photos and throwback videos of them on Charlotte’s Instagram, but he would never actually admit to the fact that he’d clicked on her tag on one of Charlotte’s posts, and scrolled through her feed for hours, giggling from time to time at her silly captions and numerous pictures of a Golden Retriever and a black cat cuddling.

Yes, he might have found her interesting, took a few screenshots of her posts where she proudly displayed her favourite reads, immediately ordering everything on there, and a few funny memes, but now with his middle finger circling her clit, he would never, ever admit any of that to anyone, ever.

“Harry,” she breathes, and it sounds sort of harsh, rough even, the reason presumably being a mix of the cigarettes she’d been smoking and the way his finger teasingly, slowly moves over her pussy. “Harry…” she says again, melodiously, fingers curling around his wrist and he looks up with a grin, eyes almost evil, dark and pupils dilated from hunger bubbling up inside him.

He retracts his finger and brings it up to his mouth slowly, her eyes watching him like a hawk, and his pink tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up his middle finger and he truly devours the savoury taste, eyes finding hers as he sucks the finger into his mouth. “Taste so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Want me to play with that beautiful cunt, hm? Give it my full attention?”

“Yes, please, I need it so bad, I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“Yeah?” He asks, ever so softly, “How long?” He presses, his middle finger once again placed between her wet folds, and she wraps her fingers around his wrist.

There’s a bloom of pleasure in her voice when she lets out a shaky breath, a stuttered ’yeah’ because she doesn’t want to give in to Harry’s teasing game, and he leans forward, capturing her chin with his mouth as he bites the flesh while the pads of his finger massages slow and deep over her swollen clit.

He feels the spongy bit under his touch, “Tell me you’ve been thinking of this too,” he breathes against her wet chin, then brings his middle finger down to her hole. It’s wet, so fucking wet when he drags his finger back up and circles her clit faster than before which makes her legs kick out in pleasure, one hand grabbing harshly at her boob as the other go up to Harry’s soft hair and she pulls, fingernails scratching his scalp while doing so. He groans against her skin and drags his finger down to her slick little hole again, circling around the wet, soft muscle and he pushes his finger in, her cunt making a wet, lovely sound as he does so as his eyes fall to his throbbing cock.

It’s so hard, an unpleasant feeling blooming inside, so he takes his finger out of her hole, making her let out a tiny whimper as she clenches around nothing with the sudden loss of his touch. Harry brings his finger up to his mouth, and his pink tongue darts out to lick, mouth closing around to devour the slightly salty slickness.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks as his hand goes to stroke the side of her neck, goosebumps appearing immediately at the touch. She shudders, unable to respond and Harry’s voice is softer this time, “Can I, baby? Will you let me fuck your pretty pussy now? I need it so bad, sweetheart, so fucking bad. See how hard I am for you? So fucking hard for you, baby.”

“God,” another shaky breath, “Please, I’m so wet and horny- I need it, Harry, please.”

“Need my cock, yeah? Need me to fill that little hole? Stretch your tiny little hole, darling?”

“Fuck- please, I- please stop teasing me, I need it...please, fuck me.”

Harry feels something, a prickly sensation inside him, his groin tightening, and he knows it’s her dirty mouth and sweet face to blame. He looks down at his cock, hard as rock between his legs, and grabs her by the waist, pulling her on top of him with ease. “There, sweet girl.”

He lets out a hiss when her warm pussy makes contact with his cock and she bites her lip, leaning forward until their sweaty foreheads meet. “Your pussy’s so fuckin’ warm. Shit, we need condoms,” a strong arm wraps around her waist and she gasps when he leans forward so suddenly. His face is buried into her boobs as he tries to retrieve his wallet from one of the compartments in between and she watches him struggle, unable to control a tiny laugh escaping her mouth.

“Well,” Harry mumbles, warm lips making her skin feel all tingly, “This is lovely...mmm,” a few kisses are pressed between her boobs, then another open mouth one on her left nipple, and they’re finally back to their previous position, condom package between Harry’s lips as he rips the top, never once taking his eyes off of her while doing so.

“Ready for me?” He gives himself a few lazy pulls, thumbing at the tip while she watches, one hand kneading her boob. “Hm? Ready to take my cock?” He moves his hand slowly, up and down, causing her to swallow.

“Yeah...fuck yeah. Please, fuck me.”

He looks up at her as the rubber works its way down his cock, and she joins her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he brings his cock to her cunt, earning a moan from her, her warm breath licking at his face ever so softly. He grunts, voice strained with pleasure when he feels how warm and wet she is at the touch of his cock and slides it against her warmth before he brings it down to her tight little hole and pauses there.

“Y’ready, sweet girl?” He nudges their foreheads together and it’s sweet, so sweet despite the position they’re in, and she nods, feeling their damp foreheads stick together, and Harry gives her a bright smile, dimple appearing on his left cheek.

And he pushes it in. With his thumb pressed against the tip, he pushes his cock inside her, the tightness squeezing his already sensitive cock as if she doesn’t want to let him go, as if she wants to keep him inside of her forever and ever.

“God, such a tight cunt, baby. Squeezing me already, hm?” He murmurs into her mouth, “Easy, darling...slow. Slow, yeah? Want to feel you properly,” his hands go up to her hips, holding her there to still the movement of her hips, and her arms loop around his sweaty neck, fingernails scratching the back of his neck and he hisses, face moving forward to press a bruising kiss on her parted mouth.

Once she calms down, hips stilled, his strong arms begin moving her up and down and they both moan, quick breaths leaving their mouths and mixing together just like how their bodies are almost joined together, two becoming one, and Harry starts moving his own hips so he can fuck into her as she helps her by moving her own hips up and down, slowly, just like he’d asked her to, feeling his cock stretching her tight hole with his every move. There’s a honking outside and both their movements still for a second, and a muffled chuckle leaves her mouth, arms tightening around Harry’s neck.

Their eyes meet, Harry’s mouth turning upwards, “What’s so funny, Miss Giggles, hm?” He murmurs as his hips speed up again, their skins slapping against each other as his cock strokes the insides of her walls ever so softly, sliding in and out of her.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking big, I- I knew you’d be big but...fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good, Harry,” she moans, earning a grunt from him as she meets his thrusts, her hands sliding down to Harry’s shoulders and squeezing his smooth skin briefly before she brings her palms down to her chest.

She strokes the hair on his chest, admiring the way his cross necklace sits proudly there, amongst his now damp chest hair, and she brings her palm to one of his nipples, thumb stroking the slightly darker nub and he lets out a groan as goosebumps appear on his chest and nipples.

“God,” she breathes and Harry can smell the fruity-sour alcohol on her breath, and his mouth pops open when she tweaks his sensitive nipples. “I love your nipples,” she moans again when his cock brushes that sweet spot inside her and he does too, arms tightening around her waist, and she tweaks his nipples again, this time harder as her hips speed up, ass slapping against his meaty thighs and she keeps jumps up on down on his cock.

As she does so, her boobs too move, bouncing up and down with her every movement and Harry reaches with one hand, capturing one of her nipples between his fingers as he tweaks left and right before letting it go, watching her skin prickle at the touch.

“Shit, y’feel amazing, just wanna keep you forever,” he groans, low and delirious, fingernails digging into her waist as he thrusts into her, “So fuckin’ tight around me...so tight and snug. I want you- want this everyday. Wanna be able to touch you, kiss that little face everyday, fuck this beautiful pussy...so good, darling, you’re so fuckin’ good, letting me fuck that sweet cunt in the backseat, hm? Are you good,” he breathes her name into her mouth, then bites her bottom lip, earning a gasp from her when his thrusts become particularly rough. “Are you a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m good, I’m so good, please- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum please keep fucking me, keep fucking me hard, Harry- keep going,” she speeds up her movements, Harry’s cock sliding in and out of her as wet, dirty sounds fill the car and he curses under his breath, hips lifting off the seat to meet her strokes.

“Are you close?” He manages to ask, a low grunt in his voice.

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she brings one hand down to her pussy and begins rubbing her clit, moaning when she touches the little nub and then, with her other hand, she reaches for Harry’s face, thumb stroking the side of the smooth skin before she places it on his bottom lip and presses hard, making him part his mouth. She pushes it in, eyes lulling shut at the feeling of his warm tongue as he sucks on her thumb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks her cunt with quick, rough thrusts.

When she opens her eyes, Harry’s watching her, sweat glistening on his forehead and she brings her finger down to where Harry’s cock meets her warmth and rubs the top of his cock, moaning when she feels the vein there. She brings it up to her clit again, all wet and warm, and she rubs harder with rough strokes as Harry juts his hips forward a few more times. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, baby,” his grip tightens on her waist and she places her hands on his shoulder, squeezing there.

“Come on me, I want it on my tits,” she mutters, fingernails digging into the smooth skin of his shoulders and he lets out a grunt, pulling out quickly as she gets down, Harry’s legs parting immediately so she can get between them.

And she does, gets on her knees between Harry’s parted legs as he takes the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he tosses it somewhere on the floor, and he begins stroking his now-wet cock as she thumbs at her nipples, kneading her boobs before pushing them together. His wrist works harder and quicker at the sight and he finally comes undone, his warm cum spilling onto her boobs, decorating her soft flesh with white stripes and she looks down, watching with sparkling eyes.

“God, fuck,” he breathes, letting his head tilt back, “You’re something else, y’know that?”

She hums, sending him a grin as he gives himself three more lazy strokes before he lets go of his cock and watches the spattered cum against her skin separate with the movement when she lets them go.

“Got some on your top, sorry, love.”

She looks down, then swipes a thumb across her skin and brings it up to her mouth. Pushing it in, she sucks around her digit as she tastes the salty-sour taste and Harry watches, all wrecked and fucked out.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re so naughty...come up here,” his ring-clad fingers reach for her wrist and he helps her sit next to him.

He reaches the little pocket behind one of the seats, taking out some tissues as she watches him take out a few and clean her up as much as he can. Then their eyes meet, both sleepy and wrecked, and he lifts his hand up to her cheek, stroking it, and she leans into the touch, making him smile. “You’re lovely,” he mumbles, hand still on her cheek.

“You’re lovelier.”

He chuckles as she fixes her top, “You really are. Really lovely.”

“Stop it, I’m not good with compliments.”

“Well,” he shrugs, reaching for his trousers on the front seat, “I said what I said. You hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m kinda thirsty. Aren’t you?”

As they lean against the bonnet of Harry’s car, now parked outside a McDonald’s, there’s a comfortable silence between them as they sip their waters, bodies close to each other, close enough for Harry to smell his faint cologne on her skin.

“You cold still?” He turns to her as she takes a bite of her chocolate muffin, and he follows as a few crumbs land on her chest.

“I’m good. Feel very warm...ed up,” she chuckles, thumbing at the corners of her mouth.

Harry groans, nudging her with his shoulders and she nudges back, harder, and he gasps, “Oi, be nice. I’m feeding you.”

“Soz. Guess I owe you like...what is it, a fiver?”

“You’re a very mean girl.”

“I’m the nicest. I’m good,” she gives him a grin, earning another eye roll from him as she takes another sip of her water before placing it on the floor, “Seriously though, thanks for the muffin.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m kinda bummed you turned down the nuggets but…maybe next time?”

“Next time?” She asks, crossing her arms, trying to warm herself up despite her promise from earlier.

“Well,” he clears his throat, hand going up to his necklace, “I’d love to see you sometime. Again. Preferably for longer than an hour and...you know, just us two? Hanging out?”

She smiles and leans forward, taking him by surprise when she presses their lips together. It’s a sweet, slow kiss, and his hands grab the back of her neck, pressing their faces closer as they kiss. Her hands find his waist and she gets on her feet, coming to stand between his legs without breaking their kiss, and she loops her arms around his neck, smiling when he moans at the feeling of her fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

He tastes the muffin, the chocolate, and himself, and as foolish as it sounds, he wishes there was a way to be closer to her somehow, closer than they already are at this moment. She pulls away, their foreheads pressing together as they smile at each other.

Harry scrunches his nose and smiles, bringing it forward so their noses touch, “What was that for?” He whispers, hands tight around her waist as he hugs her closer.

“Just felt like it...just felt like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like kissing you. I liked kissing you a lot tonight.”

He smiles, nose booping against hers once again, “I liked kissing you a lot too. I’d like to kiss you a lot tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.”

“That’s fine by me. You can kiss me tomorrow...and the day after that,” she whispers, pressing their bodies together.

Harry closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as she watches with curious gaze, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“What are you doing,” she whispers, and he shushes her, smiling when he opens his eyes to find her staring with her eyebrows raised, “What are you doing?” She asks again and he squeezes her waist, forehead pressing against her once again and he leans in closer to press a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I’m listening,” he whispers, lips almost touching hers as he speaks.

“Listening? What are you listening to?”

He strokes her cheek, “A song.”

She raises her eyebrow again, “What song? I can’t hear it. Are you- you’re not actually serious, are you?”

“Ssh, it’s a song. Listen,”

“Har-ry,” she groans, pressing her forehead on the crook of his neck, “What is it?”

Harry smiles, arms hugging her closer as she presses a tiny kiss to the side of his neck, “Aubade.”

SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT AUBADE AND PLEASE REBLOG THE FICS YOU’VE READ AND ENJOYED TO SUPPORT AND MOTIVATE WRITERS <3

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n

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blush-and-books · 4 years ago

Text

i am always yours

canonverse juke one-shot, light angst with a happy ending :) as a part of the effort to get juke back on the tumblr fandometrics ship list! title from the end of all things by p!atd. again, fuck brendon urie, but i’ve had this hc about luke for awhile (you’ll see what i mean) and had to get this out! <3 enjoy!

When Julie told Luke about Panic! At The Disco, she didn’t just give him a list of songs to check out. She advised to listen through entire albums.

“You have a lot to catch up on,” she said, grinning over a mug of steaming tea. Her smile could convince him to do anything. “And these guys were a phenomenon. Despite… A lot that has happened with their lead singer, you’ll appreciate the music. Just give it a try when you feel like it.”

Julie never rushed him on anything. It was one of the things he loved most about her -- she only really insisted he know how to use her phone and the internet and maybe know some memes, but the rest was up to him. She loved him -- he hoped -- even if he wanted to stay in 1995.

However, whenever she told Luke to do something, like “look into it if you’re interested” or “check it out if you’re ever bored,” he would jump on it in an instant.

He wondered if she ever noticed. Acts of service was one of those love language things that Flynn was always talking about, right? Does making the effort to show an interest in the other person’s life by listening to every album by a band they like count?

He would ask Reggie or Alex, but Reggie doesn’t have much experience in the love department and Alex and Willie are much better at communicating than he is with Julie.

To be clear: Luke doesn’t have experience either. In fact, Reggie probably has more romantic experience between the two of them.

But none of it was as serious. This weird thing he has with Julie; this undefined, label-lacking supernova of passion and emotion that he has curled up in his chest is so strong sometimes it hurts. When Julie was upset at him and ignored him, it felt like the time his mom took his guitar and locked it away for a week.

But when Julie is around, and she’s smiling at him, he could swear that not even a roaring audience could spark the kind of nirvana he feels.

So, the day after she gives him the name of every Panic! album to date, she goes to school for six hours and he sneaks her laptop down to the garage and starts his deep dive.

(Yes, Julie gave him computer privileges. He knows boundaries. She’s just broadened hers.)

Blissfully and with few interruptions from his other bandmates, he goes through the first albums quickly. He skips most of Pretty Odd -- Julie should have warned him about that one -- and is enjoying himself until he gets to the later projects which are significantly less his sound.

But he keeps going. He reaches their album from 2013, which has this neon-angsty-alt-pop vibe that he honestly has a neutral opinion on. The songs are all good until he realizes that half of them have a painfully romantic overtone that ropes his mind back to Julie every time he tries to stray.

Fuck, one of the songs is literally titled Girl That You Love. How is he not supposed to have a montage of Julie in his head?

And then some shit called Far Too Young To Die comes on, and yes, he agrees, he was far too young to die. He also vows to never listen to it again in the next 24 hours because he is ultimately tempted to loop it until Julie comes back and kiss her breathless the second that she walks through the door.

Moving on, Collar Full doesn’t make things much better. He is sick and tired of waiting and dancing around his feelings for her, and every time they are together he is filled to the brim with lyrics and love from just minutes in her presence.

(“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I want to go” definitely shatters him. But only briefly. He wants to soak up every ounce of love he can get from her before the world catches up to them and he’s crossing over without his consent.)

Luke thinks that he’s out of the woods when he hits the album-ending ballad, The End of All Things.

And then he sees that he’s still in the thick of it.

The way it hits him is nearly indescribable -- but every line hits like a read-aloud of his diary.

No matter where he is, or where he ends up, his soul will always belong to Julie Molina. And that’s the truth of it. He can cross over or the band could break up and he could wander the planet as a lost ghost for the rest of eternity, but his soul will linger; tied with Julie’s in an unsolvable knot.

He is hers.

He is hers, he is hers, he is hers.

And he’s in love with her.

He can’t ask her to love him back. But he can hope, right? For just a single moment where they can lay together and be Julie and Luke like they should have been.

The tears on his cheeks and under his eyes don’t register until they are streaming down his neck and onto the pillow that he’s laying on.

He doesn’t deserve Julie, he knows that. And he knows how fucking selfish it would be to even try. But sometimes the wanting reaches inside of him and individually snaps each and every one of his ribs, and that feeling keeps him pushing and pulling like the tide. Get close to her, make her smile, make her laugh.

Leave her alone. Stop flirting. Don’t you dare hurt her.

Think about somebody other than yourself.

This song, he ends up looping. Over and over and over until his emotions are exhausted and he doesn’t have any tears left to cry. He’s on his… Probably his ninth listen when the doors crack open, and the piano music is leaking out of the garage as Julie slips in.

“Luke! Hey, uh… Oh! You’re listening to Panic!”

He guiltily allows his heart to skip at the pleasant surprise in her smile. Clearing his throat, he swipes his hands viciously across his cheeks to rid of the tear stains and shoots her one of his classic smiles. “‘Course, Boss. You told me to.”

Her backpack hits the coffee table as she slowly approaches the couch to settle next to him. “Yeah, well… I didn’t actually expect you to. People normally just say ‘yeah, I’ll check it out!’ and then no one talks about it again.”

Something rubs him the wrong way about her not thinking that he would actually follow through with her recommendation. Does she doubt him? How does she not know that she could say jump and he would ask how high?

“Well, I’m not normal people. I care about what you care about.”

He knows he got her when she averts her eyes to Alex’s drums across the room; giving Luke a perfect view of her blush. Maybe he lets himself revel in it for a moment longer than necessary.

“Anyways, how was school? Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine,” she shakes off her previous flusteredness, tucking her leg under her body so that she can turn to fully face him. “But there's nothing to tell. I would much rather hear about what you thought of Panic! And you have to tell me why you were wiping tears off of your face when I came in.”

Luke mirrors her position and gives her a joyful grin, trying to ignore the fact that she clearly noticed him trying to clean his face and wants to talk about it. The two of them have been so good at communication, and if it were about anything else, he would tell her.

But he was nearly sobbing because of how much he loved her and couldn’t have her, so…

“They were pretty cool, I’ll give it to you. I liked the album… Vices and Virtues?” Julie nods her head. “Yeah, that one. I was finishing the Vegas one when you got home.”

“Did you like it? The album you just finished. It sounded like End of All Things when I came in.”

With wide eyes and an exaggerated nod, Luke is praying internally that she will move on and go on a tangent about her favorite albums and songs because he just wants to listen to her talk and quietly love her instead of dodge questions about his emotions.

“Okay, and did you like it? Is that-” She chuckles. “Is that what got you emotional? I mean, I get it, that song hits different sometimes, but-”

Luke stays quiet. If he keeps his mouth shut, and just smiles and stares and nods, it won’t slip.

“... Luke? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“... So? Are you… Are you okay? Did it remind you of your mom?”

It reminded me of you, he instantly corrects her with the little voice in his head.

But the voice sounds louder than usual, and then Julie’s eyes widen, and Luke couldn’t even smile and nod well enough to cover this up. Since when is he so bad at bottling up his emotions?

Right. Since he couldn’t write songs about his feelings. Because if he did, Julie would see them, so every word of affection toward her was shoved into an overflowing filing cabinet in his brain that was probably waiting to explode at any moment.

“It- Really?”

Mental checklist: She isn’t running away. She isn’t crying. She isn’t running away while she’s crying.

She isn’t slapping him, or screaming at him, or expressing any negative emotions.

Maybe he can push another inch… Just for some relief.

“Y- Yeah.” The single word takes considerable effort to stutter out, but he says it.

Julie formulates her next move. “And… Like, what about it? What reminded you of me?”

Is Luke imagining things, or did she just shift closer to him? Oh, God. The selfishness has already done it’s damage. He’s initiating something that he definitely shouldn’t for both of their sake, but-

God, why does she look so pretty?

“Y’know,” he scratches the back of his neck, “the… The lyrics.”

“The lyrics?” “Yeah.”

“Which ones?”

She’s leaning in. Her fingers are trailing up the side of his leg, and he wants to poof himself out of this conversation but what would hiding do? Just create a bigger gap between them?

His mom always told him he was selfish. He really, really doesn’t want to be selfish to Julie. He wants to protect her. He wants to put her health and happiness and life before his. Hurting her will never give him peace.

Is he being selfish either way? Telling her his feelings to make himself feel better, and avoiding his feelings because he thinks it will be better without talking to her about it -- neither are ideal, are they?

His hand, which was previously resting in his lap, inches down to brush against hers. “The first verse…” Their index fingers wrap around each other. “And the chorus, and the second verse…”

Both of their hands tangle until Luke doesn’t even remember what his hand looked like before, because all he sees is a bronze-ivory marble of skin and he knows he doesn’t ever want to see his hand without hers again.

“Luke…”

“Yeah, Boss?” “Why were you upset?”

She really won’t let it go. She clearly knows him too well, because he would hope any other person would be distracted by the fact that they were about to kiss, but this is Julie. They’re friends first. Family first.

He owes her honesty, doesn’t he?

“Because the song was right,” he answers, staring deadlocked at their joined hands. “No matter where I am, or how much time goes by… It’s gonna be you. On my mind. My feelings will never change.”

He can’t tell, but Julie’s heart ignites in her chest.

“Feelings? What-”

Somehow, the words still don’t want to come out. The eight letters are resisting every opportunity she has offered him, so he resorts to actions and cuts her off by raising their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand.

His lips linger before their union drops back into the space between them.

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

In a moment of courage, Luke peeks up at her, just to see how she looks. If he can read everything she’s feeling in a millisecond of a glance.

There are tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, Jules, why are you crying?” “Why were you crying?”

“Because I’m afraid of doing this!” Her hand tightens around him at his volume. “Julie, I- I don’t want to do anything selfish. I can’t have you thinking I’m selfish. I’m afraid of-” He has to take a deep, shaky breath. “When we hold hands or when you smile at me and I just feel so much and then I tell myself that I can’t, because you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t even know what’s in my future.”

The tears well in her eyes. “What would you be doing that’s selfish, Luke? You have a second chance at life. You should fucking live it. You have a future, and it has the boys, and the band, and me. I’m in your future.”

There’s a beat, because he’s looking at her, and he wants to cry but he wants to say it so badly.

He still doesn’t know how much time he has in the future, but Julie is telling him that she’ll be there. And he needed that more than anyone would understand.

“Well, aren’t I?”

Julie’s question shocks him a little because he hadn’t realized that he had been quiet for so long. Her bottom lip trembles the smallest amount when she sucks in a deep breath, and it sets him off to do what he had once deemed to be the most selfish act of all.

His free hand tucks itself in the hair on the base of her neck and tugs her towards him before he covers her mouth with his in a kiss that he has furiously dreamed of for a long time. For such a sweet moment, there is an overload of passion behind it. All of his fantasies were rushed and adrenaline-fueled after shows before he would talk himself down; and now, that is translating to this kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as he pulls away. “That’s the selfish thing I was worried about. Fuck, I-”

Her hand wrestles free from his, and suddenly, two hands are on his cheeks like the night after the Orpheum and the love of his life is pulling herself into his lap. On autopilot, he untucks his leg from underneath him and shifts to sit normally on the couch while Julie’s legs hold her up on each side of his hips.

And she’s kissing him again, touching him again, before he can let the panic set in. She moves her lips against his like she has her own overflowing filing cabinet of feelings and fantasies and lyrics just for him.

Her hands wondrously drain every jolt of worry and anguish from his nervous system as they run from his face to his arms to his chest and back again. Kissing Julie Molina is a thousand little feelings and it’s own feeling in itself.

When you get cold water from a water fountain and it’s so refreshing that you insatiably want more. When the set ends and Luke is taking his bows and watching people scream and clap for their performance, knowing once again he’s succeeding in the one thing he’s ever wanted to do.

Only now, making music is now tied with making Julie happy on that list of priorities.

Holding her under his hands is stupidly one of his favorite things, and in this context, it is leaving him clawing for more. He applies more pressure against her back to try and press her closer, but it never feels like enough.

Julie is an endless fountain of fervor, and he can only drink up everything he can get.

She’s the one who pulls away this time; but she keeps her fingers knotted in his hair because she plans to not stray far.

“You’re not selfish,” she sighs, chest heaving with deep breaths. “If you think that’s selfish, then I’m selfish. And we can do this together. We deserve it.”

Hearing the words tumble from her lips cancels out every fight he’s ever had with his mother.

She’s right -- they do deserve it. She shut the world out for a year, he was locked away from the world for 25, and by some miraculous turn of fate, they were brought to each other.

“We deserve it,” he repeats, a little distracted by her blown pupils and delirious smile. “We deserve it.”

They lean in at the same time to fall back into one another like it’s a new routine they’ve set. Luke doesn’t say the words, not yet, at least-

Because like she said, they deserve this. Julie Molina is on his lap, in his arms, playing him with her soft hands like his skin is the ivory keys she’s been playing since childhood. He loves her, and he’s pretty sure that she loves him -- so maybe, even though the future is uncertain, he can just wait a little longer to tell her. There’s simultaneously less of a delay and less of a rush.

Later, when they’re in her room and staying up way too late for a school night in deep discussion, he mumbles it against her forehead while she has her head tucked into his shoulder and their shared earbuds are playing The End of All Things.

Any concerns of selfishness fade when she wastes no time in reciprocating his declaration and punctuating her feelings with a cripplingly soft kiss above his collar bone.

If any of this is selfish, they can be selfish together. Luke can find himself to be content in that if Julie is right there with him.

tags: @lydias--stiles @bluefirewrites @willexx @moreflowersthanweeds @ruzek-halstead @xxprettylittletimebombxx @unsaid-emily

#juke #jukebox #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #palina

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twilightdruig · 3 years ago

Text

andante, andante

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader , george weasley x angelina johnson, bill weasley x fem!reader

summary: (part iii of mamma mia! series) after arriving on the island of kalokairi, she’s met with a storm, a horse and another very attractive ginger man.

warnings: mamma mia!au, muggle!au, angst, fluff, au where george isn’t that close with his family, mentions of storms, thunder, lightning, mentions of an abandoned house, broken stairs and windows, etc.

words: 3.7k

a/n: i mentioned in the first two parts of this that this was an au where the weasleys aren’t siblings but i decided they were so… yeah :)

y/n explored the small secluded island.

she found a large abandoned house. she could really make something out of it, she thought.

she saw something in it, a hotel maybe or a restaurant. an attraction for tourists and newcomers. sure, the place had broken windows and moldy floors but with the right motivation, what could stop her?

the place had a blue tone to it. aquamarine doors and shutters. the white walls and destroyed rooms. there were vines all over the place, intoxicating the beauty of home.

she tried sliding down the railing of the beautifully made staircase, she ended up destroying it.

she heard thunder from a distance, a few short minutes later, rain started pouring down with lightning. but, she still continues exploring the abandoned house.

faint noises of neighing can be heard in the distance. she steps down on unstable looking stairs, to what looks like a basement. the walls were made out of rocks and there was rainwater coming inbetween the loose floorboards from upstairs.

“hello?!” she yelled.

she found a tall brown horse tied down to piece of plywood. y/n could barely see anything.

the horse panicked, he jumped and broke the piece of wood. the floorboards from above collapsed due to the horse’s sudden movements. y/n yelped and jumped back.

the piece of wood the horse was tied to now under the debris. the rain was pouring, she was soaked from head to toe.

y/n thought for a moment ‘what could she do?’ she thought of calling for help. “wait there, okay? i’ll be back, yeah?” she ran back up to look for any bystanders or passerby’s.

she ran down a gravelly road until she was met with a man driving a motorcycle.

“stop! stop!” she stood right in front of the moving vehicle to catch the rider’s attention.

the rider had bright ginger hair and freckles just like the other two men she’s been with in the past week. the man stopped his motorcycle looking concerned and scared.

“can i help?”

she dragged him out of his bike and back to the house. she led him down to the basement, trying to avoid all the damage they could cause.

they prodded across all the broken floorboards in front of the horse.

“you have a plan?” she panted.

“oh, absolutely, i’m a trained veterinarian.” he uttered.

“really?” she looked up at him, a little hope enflaming in her heart.

“no. no, i’m a businessman but don’t tell this guy that” the small hope in her heart died out. how could he be joking at a time like this?

he lifted her over another piece of debris before marching over to the panicked animal. the horse jumped and the stepped back.

“woah! okay!”

“i’ll distract him, you grab the halter” she offered.

“good plan,” he looked at her “what’s the halter?” he asked, confused.

she did a double take at him until forming a new plan “just — just talk calmly.”

“easier when i’m calm” he expressed “alright, my friend.” he climbed over the fence

“storms are scary,” he started “and i wish i was home and dry right now, too, but believe me,” y/n climbed over the fence too but going over to the horse’s behind.

“it came down to a choice between leaving you and helping you,” he looked at y/n then back at the horse.

“there’s no choice at all.” the two of them stepped closer to the horse and grabbed his forehead, calming him down. y/n was clinging onto his gear and rope.

“good boy, good boy” she rubbed the horse’s forehead.

—

the two became quite acquainted. she’s noticed a type since she’s departed off to explore the world. tall gingers with freckled faces. she’s also noticed that only ron’s mentioned his last name. for all she knows they could all be siblings.

he introduced himself as george. he mentioned he lived, in the exact words, ‘in a shack on a hill’.

“ha! and what the hell were you doing there?” she laughed at his answer. they were exploring the seaside while getting to know each other.

“uh… i don’t know, running away i guess.” he stammered “everything at home was lined up for me. a great job and just, you know, my whole life mapped out. i wanted to take a break before i signed up to it” he sighed.

“how ‘bout you?” he nodded over to her.

all she did was purse her lips and shrug. “i have absolutely nothing mapped out. and no clue about what the future holds.”

she walked forward “enough walking. let’s ride.” he smiled at her and followed.

—

he brought her to the town. she went shopping for her new wardrobe. george just thought it would be fun to go with her.

right now, she was in a changing room trying on all her different outfits.

“so, how come you’re here all alone, saving horses?” he asked right outside the curtain.

“uh,” she stammered “i’ve been traveling my whole life. my dad was never in the picture, and my mum’s always on tour.”

“oh. she sings?”

“sweet as sugarcane.”

“you know, there’s some great stuff here. this dress would look very pretty on-“ he was holding up a very tacky blue dress that looked like a nighty. he turned away from the hats and dresses as she emerged from the curtains in a whole new outfit.

she was wearing denim dungarees with a floral yellow top. she was barefoot and spinning around to show him to full outfit.

“you don’t know me at all do you?” she noticed the dress he was holding. the two just laughed it off.

—

once again they found themselves somewhere else. this time a small restaurant, pub, bar whatever you could call it.

there was a live bad and the lead singer was obviously drunk and absolutely horrible.

“god! this whole place is incredible” she exclaimed as george came back with their drinks “i am definitely staying here forever.”

“yeah? your mum wouldn’t miss you?”

“no, she’s not that kind of mom” she brushed it off and laughed.

“oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t…”

“oh! oh, this isn’t a sob story, i’m fine!” she furrowed her brows and assured him.

“and it’s not easy being a mother. if it was, fathers would do it” she continued.

“well, i wish i could stay here, too.” he absorbed everything happening around him. a chaotic love band in front of him and a very pretty lady right next to him.

“oh, when do you go back?” she sipped her drink “to your fully programmed, good job, short haircut life?”

they both let out a small laugh “i have a week”.

“oh!” she cleared her throat and her focus went back to the band.

“listen, about what’s waiting for me back home.”

“yeah, hang on, hang on” she cheered for the band as they ended a song.

she was laughing and cheering and having the time of her life. “i am definitely staying here.”

he forgot what he was about to say and just laughed at her antics.

she raised her hand at the short lady behind the bar. “excuse me. are you the owner?” she inquired.

“my son the owner. he had to buy bar because no other place he let his band play.”

“hello!” the lead singer, the lady’s son sat down on their table “so, how can i help you?”

“well, firstly, you’re all awesome” this was the thing about y/n. even if he was horrible and drunkenly singing, she loved that he was having fun and enjoying what he was doing. that should be the purpose if everything in life.

“oh!” his eyes lit up at the compliment.,”and second,” she placed her hands on his “i’d like to sing here sometime with my group.” she offered.

“you have a good voice” the owner raised his eyebrow.

“oh, sweet as sugarcane” george affirmed and winked back at y/n.

“okay… then let us hear.” he gave the mic to y/n.

“oh, no. not just like that.” she leaned back on her chair and chuckled nervously.

“here on island, everything just like that. it’s the path of happiness. you think too much, you get unhappy” the man exaggerated, stood up and offered his hand to y/n.

she stood up from her chair, silently asking george for help. all he did was shrug in response.

“thinking at all is pretty much… a mistake.” he lead her to the stage and twirled her around.

“well, in that case,” she sighed “uh… okay.”

she started humming, then singing andante, andante by abba, capella.

everyone was shocked to say the least. george, the owner’s mother, the few customers all paid attention to the stage.

the instruments started platinum in the background while a disco ball softly spun. she chuckled nervously before continuing.

she walked off the stage while singing.

“you are hired!” the owner excitedly yelled.

“really?” her eyes widened.

“yes! you are really, really, really, hired!” he hugged her.

she cheered while the owner gestured for his mother to serve them drinks.

—

later that evening, george brought y/n to his little “shack on a hill” to stay for the night.

they stopped right before the door, the stars brightly shining in the sky. before any of them knew, the two leaned in to press their lips against each other’s, george’s hand on the side of her face her arms around her neck.

it seemed like all time went out the window, she was laying in his bed, fully nude under the covers right next to him.

—

the next day, george planned a whole itinerary for the two. they went for breakfast in the town. he told her about all the food his mum cooked for his whole family. he exclusively told her about his twin brother, his sister and his parents. he didn’t want to talk about the others.

right after breakfast, here they were, on a boat to explore off the island.

“right” george grunted as he lifted the paddles of the boat.

“i don’t think you know what you’re doing” y/n chuckled.

“i’m hoping,” he panted “if i keep pulling these two bits of wood, we might eventually bump into land”

“oh, okay.” she was uncertain and a bit nervous to say the least. non of them knew where they were going, for all she knows they migjt end up stranded.

“there’s another little island over there. i thought we might go for a little picnic” she looked over his shoulder where she assumed where the island was.

“where’s the food?” she leaned back to absorb the sunlight shining down on them.

“oh, you’re gonna catch it, on the way” he winked. she chuckled and picked up what was supposed to be a fishing net.

george continued rowing we he admired her beauty.

“uh…” she stammered “so, we haven’t talked about last night.”

george faltered “no…”

“you should know that i never do that, as fast.” she explained “i mean, hardly ever.”

she paused “well, sometimes — a bit recently, in fact. but not on the whole, not.”

“i thought it was miraculous” he assured.

“um, i’m gonna say something here, and you should shut up as i’m saying it because you’ll think i’m crazy for a while, but gradually you’ll… you’ll realize i’m right, and then you’ll spend the rest of your life thanking me for saving so much time and getting straight to it.”

george looked at her skeptically “well, i’m ready”

“i wasn’t joking yesterday, i was serious. i want to stay here, and i think you should, too. i think we should make a choice to do something radical and wonderful, to live in this extraordinary place with someone…” she hesitated before continuing “someone miraculous.”

when george just stared at her she spoke up again “i told you, you’d think it was crazy.”

he sighed before speaking up “i don’t think it’s that simple. nothing is.”

“everything is, when you break it down”

george looked out at the distance before looking back at her. she was the most miraculous thing he’s ever seen, touched, interacted with.

y/n was biting her lip as she awaited an answer from him. when he chuckled, she felt a smile creep onto her face.

“i don’t think it’s crazy.”

she chuckled “that’ll do; for now”

he took out his camera to snap a picture of an angel in human form, sitting across him. he didn’t know why he ever thought of leaving her, even if they did just meet a day ago.

they had a lot of fun the rest of the day. taking photos of each other, catching fish, having a picnic and almost getting lost.

—

another few days went by, they slept in the same ‘shack’, in the same bed, doing everything together.

y/n was wide awake at 5am in the morning. she was scribbling in her journal everything that’s happened with george. she was happy ; no, ecstatic! she felt alive and amazing.

she stopped writing as she gazed at him. still fast asleep next to her.

she went out to the balcony and walked around wherever her feet took her. picking oranges, doing cartwheels on the sand. she also fell while picking said oranges, it fell on her head and a goat almost chased her off the island.

when she got back to george’s shack. she made the two of them breakfast. she was almost done before she opened a drawer on the kitchen island.

in it was a bunch of knives and other cutlery, and a journal, most probably george’s. it was brown leather with a sealed with a leather band.

she couldn’t help it, she picked it up and pulled a photo that was sticking out of it.

y/n’s fantasy world crumbled at her feet. it was george. her george. he was cradling a dark skinned woman at his side. she was tall, beautiful, everything george probably wanted. she saw a gaudy engagement ring on her finger. that did it for y/n, she slammed the book down and ran for it.

the loud noise woke george up. he put on some clothes and ran after her.

she just ran and ran until she arrived back at the farmhouse she found the horse in.

“y/n! y/n! please, just listen to me” he pleaded.

“love to” she yelled sarcastically.

“you will?”

“yeah, of course. i’ll listen while you answer three questions” she stood at the too of the broken stairs, glaring daggers at him.

all he did was nod in response.

“are you engaged to that beautiful woman?”

“yes”

oh lord, did she feel like breaking down again. but she couldn’t, he was right there in front of her, a few steps down.

“and did you tell me about it?” her ring clad hands clenched into tight fists.

“no” he shook his, looking down at his shoes.

“and do you seriously think i could ever forgive you?” she asked one last time, breathless.

“please, y/n.” he pleaded once more.

“go! leave!” she stomped up the stairs, not caring if she fell through the pathetic pieces if wood.

“please just listen to me”

“that is enough listening! go!” she screamed at him at the top of her lungs before marching up the stairs again.

he just stood there. not knowing what to say. he just lost the possible love of his life.

of course, he loved angelina. but did he love her the way he loved y/n? considering how heartbroken he is about y/n now? probably not.

he heard her slam a door. he sighed before leaving the farmhouse in despair.

he ran back to his house with tears in his eyes. he packed up his bags, and decided to just go home.

y/n on the other hand was destroying what was left of the farmhouse. she pulled at her own hair while she watched the waves going back and forth through the window. she really like george, between ron and bill.

she most definitely thought he’d be the one.

the last time y/n saw george was when he was leaving with a boat. she was standing by a tree as he was whisked away back to his planned life.

she came back to the horse under the farmhouse. she stroked and hugged it for comfort.

—

a few days go by of y/n sitting in the old overgrown room, sobbing. she was heartbroken.

the only way she could fix it was either by singing, which she was not in the mood to, or being with her friends.

it resulted in option number two. she waited for fleur and dawn at the dock.

when she heard gasps of her name, she immediately turned to see her two most favorite people in the world.

her sullen face turned into a small smile as she ran to hug them. the two were screaming and shrieking to see their best friend again.

they met in the middle of the pier in a tight hug. they missed each other so much!

“oh my god! i see what you mean!” fleur exclaimed.

“this is beautiful!” dawn was jumping around, arms wide open as she twirled to see the place “this place is paradise!”

“i’m so glad you’re here” she sniffled.

they noticed her expression. their faces fell. “what’s happened?” “where’s the hot architect?”

“oh.. turns out he was lying to me.” she confessed.

“he’s not an architect?” dawn asked.

she shook her head no “he’s engaged, to someone else.”

she let out a small pathetic laugh “and she looks beautiful, and now he’s gone back to her.” her voice was shaky almost breaking down in tears again.

“i hate it when they do that” fleur rubbed her arm comfortingly.

“oh!” the three hugged again.

—

she explained to them everything that’s happened, including ron, bill and the pub, everything.

they rode the horse as she led them to where she’s been sleeping. “so, i’ve been sleeping in this farmhouse. but it’s the most beautiful place in the world. and it also has a horse.”

“yes, very romantic. we’re taking you home.” fleur sighed.

“uh, not before a fabulous performance by the greatest girl band in the world.” dawn interjected.

“yes!” “we’ve got all the gear! where are we playing?”

“oh! no, no, no. i can’t. i can’t. i’m not in the mood” y/n groaned.

“oh! but it will put you in that mood!”

“of course it will! the floodlights, the grease paint, the adrenaline of the crowd. a thousand descendants of great greek warriors cheering and clapping furiously as the irresistible beat transforms their bodies into pulsating pilars of flesh!”

—

when they git to the pub. it was as dead as the relationship between y/n and george.

no one was there. the band was exhausted out of their mind and the owner’s mother was serving just one customer.

“i don’t know how to sing about love when i’m not feeling it.”

“then, sing about what you are feeling.” fleur suggested.

y/n sang the beginning of mamma mia by abba in a sullen, depressing tone.

the band started watching her with comforting smiles in their faces. y/n slowly moved to the center of the stage, standing and swaying her hips a little.

when she got to the pre-chorus, the pace picked up a bit and the tone was more fiery and fun. the band started playing again.

dawn and fleur cheered before joining her on stage.

“yes, y/n!”

when they continued performing to the second verse, the owner whistled for more people to come in.

people started crowding the pub when she ran back on stage. the three were jumping and stomping to the beat.

the dancer around the pub and ended up on the bar counter.

dawn ended up accidentally pushing y/n off the counter and into the arms of another familiar ginger man.

“bill?!” it was bill. the man with the boat.

fleur was eyeing the two up and down. she definitely thought bill was attractive.

fleur and dawn left them alone against fleur’s will. she didn’t pass up the chance to walk by them every time though.

when fleur sat back down across dawn, she started ranting.

“my point is—“

“i know what your point is.”

“you don’t know what my point is.” she argued.

“your point is that you fancy him.”

she hummed back “you see? you were wrong. that’s not my point. it’s not that i fancy him. my point is, actually, that i love him and i want to have his babies and eventually push him around in a wheelchair and scatter his ashes.”

dawn spit her drink back into the glass to look at fleur weirdly. “i see.”

“and he likes y/n. and i don’t think that’s very fair.”

“he can help her feel better.”

“d’you know what makes me feel better when my heart’s broken? cake. why doesn’t she just do that instead? just eat humongous amounts of cake and leave hot ginger guy to me.”

they looked back over at y/n and bill. they were talking and laughing and generally just enjoying themselves.

“i’m going in” fleur smiled.

“no. you’re staying out, sister, because you love y/n and you want her to be happy.”

as dawn sat fleur back down, y/n and bill approached them. “hey guys”

“hi” the two said back, fleur’s drink accidentally spilling from her mouth.

“this is my friend bill” she pointed to him.

“hi!” fleur said again, flustered “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“we’ve heard nothing about you.” dawn said, fleur laughing saying ‘hi’ again.

“i brought y/n here on my boat.” bill explained.

“you’ve got a boat!” fleur exclaimed “he’s got a boat!”

“and then i worried about her so i came back.” bill continued.

“he worries, he cares. and he’s got a boat!”

“and now, i’m taking her out to sea again.”

“taking her out to sea again. in the boat”

dawn looked at fleur weirdly before fleur sat down and downed her drink.

“you don’t think i should go?” y/n stepped forward and whispered to dawn.

“are you kidding? of course, you should.” dawn turned around the get fleur again “tell her she should go.”

fleur stayed silent for a few seconds before dawn slapped her arm a few times. “you should absolutely go.”

“that’s what i’m saying”

“i- i’m saying it too. go.”

“go! and do everything i’d do!” dawn stepped forward.

“nearly everything. i’m sorry.” fleur pulled her back.

“thanks, guys. i’ll be back soon.”

“bye, darlin’!” “bye.”

when y/n was out of sight, fleur’s smile faltered. “could i get some cake please?”

“some cake over here?” dawn gestured for a waiter.

“— a lot of cake!”

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