#so i missed out if the three friends i had weren't into a band that i probs would have liked...

[exsqueezememacaroni]

started listening to Cop Shoot Cop today bc i trust your taste in music (and also spotify recommended one of their albums?) White Noise is great i’m on my second listen. it’s reminds me a bit of Swans (their early stuff mostly) and i’m catching vibes from TJL and a few other bands. DIGGING it so far tho!

YES!!!! AHHHH!!!! I'm so happy!

You're totally right - it really is amazing to me that I never saw TJL back in the day? And, omg, funny story - I definitely saw Swans a few times in the mid-late 90s but they're sound had changed so much. And by then CSC was done and Tod A also changed his sound a whole lot for Firewater. So they were totally unrelated in my head. There was a guy (a fellow weaver, can you fucking believe it??) Who lived in NYC in the late 70s/80s and was SUPER in the no wave/punk/noise rock scene and he was talking about Swans' heyday and I was so jealous that I just missed that whole time period, it sounded amazing.

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!

[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]

-> <-

“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”

You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.

Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.

With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.

Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.

Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.

All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.

You wish you could tell them.

And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.

Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.

You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?

“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.

“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.

Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!

You warm at the memory.

Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.

“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”

By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.

Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.

Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.

Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.

You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.

Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.

Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.

Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.

Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.

“Indie!” Dustin shouts.

The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.

You panic.

Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.

You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.

Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.

Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.

Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.

Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.

Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.

Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.

Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.

Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.

You haven't.

Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.

The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.

“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”

“Indie is a really nice girl-,”

“I’m not worried about Indie.”

Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.

“I’m going to go home, Robin.”

“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”

“Yeah,” you say thinly.

Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”

“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”

-> <-

When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.

Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.

You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.

Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.

Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.

For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.

Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.

You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.

“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”

You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.

“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.

Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”

Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”

“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”

You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.

The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.

“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”

So, you solve for E.

You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-

Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.

You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.

Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.

You throw down your pencil in frustration.

Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.

That’s when Eddie moves.

“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.

He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.

Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.

What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.

So, where have you been?

You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.

You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.

Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.

That terrifies him.

“Hi,” your voice melts him.

Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”

“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Yeah, good.”

You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”

“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”

“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”

Okay, truth time.

“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”

Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.

“Who's comparing you to a boy?”

He had to be sure.

“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”

Confirmed.

“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”

“Wait, who’s the guy?”

You hum. “What?”

“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”

“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”

He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who’s correcting you?”

“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”

You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.

“Thank you.”

“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.

“What?”

“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”

“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”

Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.

“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”

“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.

Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,

“It’s not me is it?”

Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.

“It is me.”

Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.

This is it.

The moment you’ll lose him for good.

You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”

Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,

“Uh. . . right, sorry.”

Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.

Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.

Oh, and now to let you down.

Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.

Okay, he’s getting distracted.

You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.

Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.

Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?

Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.

Eddie rubs his eye.

Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.

He doesn’t like you like that.

Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?

No, Eddie it does not.

Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!

None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?

In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.

Only once.

There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.

After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.

Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.

Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.

Eddie will never want the night to end.

“Munson!”

Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.

The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.

“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”

No, Eddie does not.

In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.

Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.

But, you’ve already gone.

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia

[prettiestlovergirl]

RIDE-ALONG

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; tour bus sex; riding; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); slight breeding kink; praise kink; light hand job; light thigh riding; hickeys; drummer! luke

a/n: pushing the drummer! luke au agenda!! bcos it is hot as fuck and makes me very happy. n YES, i'm using mami as a nickname, bcos i'm a latina, and i'm deeply obsessed with being called mami. unedited, lol. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

it had been three long months since luke had gone on tour with the band.

you were proud of him, of course you were proud, but you missed him so much. the phone calls, text messages, and face times just weren't cutting it anymore!

you were supposed to fly out a visit him next week, but you just couldn't wait any longer. you booked the next flight out, asked his bandmate chris which bar they were heading to once you landed, and called an uber.

luke had been ecstatic to see you, not even giving you a few minutes to greet the rest of the band before practically mauling you. "fuck, mami, what are you doing here?!" he had grinned, his hands instantly finding your waist and pulling you close.

before you could even attempt to explain, he had muttered a quick "fuck it, i don't care why" and dragged you right back out of the bar without another word to his friends.

they teasingly whistled and cheered as you walked out, but you couldn't care less. they could tease all they wanted; you were the only ones guaranteed to get laid that night.

neither one of you wanted to wait and uber to a hotel so... the tour bus was really your only option.

the second the door closed, luke pounced on you. his hands grabbed your ass, squeezing it roughly to hear you moan against his lips. "'m so fucking glad you're here, mami." he groaned, his fingers traveling to the front of your shorts to start pulling them off.

"fuck, me too, couldn't wait anymore" you panted, hands gliding under his shirt to feel his smooth skin before tugging the fabric up. he pulled away from your lips, just to get his shirt off before instantly bringing his lips back down to yours.

you quickly slipped off your own shirt before he moved onto his small bed, just barely wide enough to fit you both. you buried your fingers into his hair, grinding down against him while you both moaned in desperation.

your lips trailed down to his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin while he brought his hands down to quickly get his jeans off. you weren't usually one to leave marks along his body, but not seeing him for months turned you a bit possessive.

"so fucking hot." he murmured, groaning as your teeth sunk into his skin again. he moved his hands back up to your hips, helping you grind faster against him.

you felt like a fucking teenager again, grinding against him with the thin layer of your panties and his boxers keeping you from the skin on skin contact you craved more than anything.

"need you, luke." you moaned, fingers reaching down to tug off his boxers, tossing them off along with your panties. they scattered around with the rest of your clothes you'd have to pick up later.

"i know, mami, i know, fuck" he hissed, head falling back against the pillow as your spit-covered hand wrapped around his angry, swollen cock. pre dripped out of his tip as you started slowly jerking him off, grinding your soaked pussy against his leg.

luke's hands gripped your hips, helping you grind against his thigh while your hand moved in steady strokes. your pussy leaked arousal onto his skin, making it easier to gain friction against him.

"can't wait anymore, need you inside me." you whimpered as he nodded, holding your hips tighter as you lifted yourself up, ducking a bit so you wouldn't smack your head into the top bunk.

you let out a guttural moan as you finally started to sink down onto him, nails digging into his skin desperately as he filled you up, inch by delicious inch.

"fuck" he moaned, his hips bucking up into your wet heat, forcing you to take more of him. you let out a gasp as he thrusted up, making you whine as you sunk down until he was completely inside of you.

it knocked the air out of you both, you were both so fucking desperate for one another you nearly came on impact. "fuck, shit, shit, hold on, mami, shit." he groaned, holding you for a second to keep you from moving.

"gonna cum if you move right now just, fuck, give me a second." he panted, closing his eyes for a second and trying to go through his list of horrifically unsexy things to keep from cumming in you instantly.

you pressed your palms against his chest, mouth open as you tried to catch your breath while he stretched your poor, needy pussy wide open.

"need to move, please." you begged, biting your lip as you looked down at him. you did your best not to rock against him, but god it was so hard, you craved the friction he'd been depriving you of for months.

after a beat, he nodded, signaling you could finally start to move. immediately after receiving the okay, you started to rock your hips back and forth, moaning out in pure bliss. he felt so fucking good inside you, you just felt so full.

"aw, come on, mami. i know you can do better than that." he groaned, bucking his hips up into you again just to hear you squeal. you pouted a bit but dug your knees into the mattress as you started to bounce up and down on his cock.

luke moaned as you bounced up and down, loving just how fucking tight you felt around him. so much better than his hand, nothing could possibly feel better than having you here like this.

"yeah, just like that mami, good girl." he praised, bringing one of his hands to start rubbing your swollen n puffy clit. you moaned out happily, speeding up your pace as you continued to bounce on him.

it wasn't long before you started getting closer and closer to the threshold, your pace starting to get uneven and sloppy. his eyes were fixed on where your bodies connected, relishing in the creamy white ring your arousal created at the base of his cock.

luke pulled his hand away from your clit, holding onto your waist tightly before starting to thrust up into you again and again. he kept you steady as he thrusted, practically bruising your cervix with every thrust as you moaned out loudly.

he thrusted into you as you gasped out his name, doing your best to roll your hips with every thrust to create more and more friction. "fuck, gonna make me cum, mami. gonna cum inside you, fuckin' fill you up." he grunted.

"yes, please, fuck." you nodded, rolling your hips faster as your back arched.

"you like that idea, huh? me filling you up?" he let out a slightly strangled chuckle as he continued to thrust, and your hips continued to roll and grind down against him.

he bucked up into you a few more times before his grip loosened, his back hitting the pillow as he came deep inside you. your hips continued to roll against his until your own orgasm came crashing over you and you practically collapsed onto him.

you didn't know how long you laid there like that, his hands around your waist, thumb brushing over your tender skin. you didn't say anything, you didn't have to, there would be time to talk tomorrow. right now, you were both content to lay in your bliss.

well, lay in your bliss until chris started banging on the door. "are you two fuckers done in there? the rest of us have shit to grab!" he called out, making you blush as luke simply groaned.

"fuck off, get it tomorrow! 'm nowhere near done."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[azrielbrainrot]

Loose Lips and Big Feelings

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Azriel gets a little drunk and you take care of him.

Warnings: Alcohol?

Word Count: 2320

Notes: This is a little short but very cute. As always, this is part of the band au but you can read it as a standalone. Also I decided the boys make early Arctic Monkeys type music because imagining Azriel singing 505 sounds delicious. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

The bar was already packed with drunk people by the time you arrived. It was so full you were surprised they even let you in, you had to take a deep breath, readying yourself before diving into the sea of people. Finding Azriel and his friends was going to be harder than you thought, you might have to text him again. The situation was somewhat nostalgic to the first time you set foot in this bar, the same night you met Azriel. It's amazing how much things have changed in a matter of months.

Someone was doing a cover of a song you recognized on stage, it almost made you want to hum along and enjoy it for a bit, but you needed to get to Azriel's table first. You couldn't really see the woman singing on stage aside from her striking ginger hair and blue dress, but her voice was truly amazing. You could definitely understand why everyone was so excited to see her. You'd have to ask Azriel if he knew her, maybe try to see one of her shows properly.

You hadn't actually planned on coming tonight, Azriel and the boys weren't even playing and you'd rather sleep away the week. In fact, an hour ago you had been sitting at your desk hoping to get enough progress on an essay so you could completely free up your Sunday to rest and lay in bed all day. But, when a mildly intoxicated Azriel texted you, asking you to meet up with him at the bar, you couldn't resist the offer.

It's not often he asks you outright to meet him, always so conscious of your hectic schedule and workload, even your recent aversion to social outings. So you couldn't really deny him the one time he actually did. You were also a bit curious to see what had him so excited, his happiness was extremely contagious, and admittedly a bit curious to see what he's like when he's drunk, if your intuition had been right then he was close to wasted when he sent you those texts littered with typos.

He had told you that they were sitting at the table by the big red poster, you were pretty sure you knew which one he meant, but unfortunately it was close to the stage which means it would be difficult to get to it while the performance was happening. You were caught between excuse me’s and apologies when you finally caught sight of familiar broad shoulders and luscious tied back hair.

Even when they're not on stage, they're hard to miss. Cassian is at least a head taller than the crowd, so even when he's sitting down you can always count on finding him. He's the first one to notice you as well, greeting you with a shout of your name, somehow audible over the music, and a big grin, as you keep trying to gently push your way through the crowd to get to them.

You find the three of them tucked into the sofas by the table Azriel told you about. Apparently being one of the performing bands gave you access to the best seats in the bar, you always got stuck with the regular chairs. As you get closer to the table you notice Morrigan and another girl you haven't met before were also present.

“You came,” Morrigan yelled excitedly as soon as you got up to the table. It seems they're all drinking tonight, the table is full of grins and flushed cheeks.

“I did,” you chuckle at the overenthusiastic greetings from everyone at the table. A familiar scarred hand reaches out for yours immediately, tugging on it so you would sit down next to him. It's not missed on you the eyebrows the gesture raises, you've learned that he's not always forthcoming with letting people touch or hold his hands so you're sure they didn't really expect him to do it so easily. They probably didn't know Azriel told you everything either.

The sofas were small so it was a tight fit as you sat down right next to him, having no other option but let your leg comfortably rest on his, the feeling of his rough jeans on your bare skin making you giddy for some reason. His arm comes around your waist straight away so his hand settles on the side of your thigh, pulling you even closer into him.

The gesture makes you look up at him, his face a lot closer than you expected, you could feel his breath hit your skin and if you moved even an inch closer your nose would bump against his. The smile he gives you almost takes your breath away as you let out a soft greeting, “Hi.” You're surprised he even heard you, if you weren't so close to each other he wouldn't have been able to over the music, but he throws the same word back at you, in the same whispered tone you used, as his smile widens, eyes not making any effort to leave yours.

“So this is Azriel's friend,” the girl you haven't met before says, with a tone that suggests she's heard a lot about you. The thought of Azriel or any of the boys telling anyone about you has your heart skipping a beat. Her voice also cuts through the spell you and Azriel seemed to be locked in, finally breaking eye contact with him so you can answer her. But, as you look back to the table, you become more than aware that everyone just witnessed your little moment and the smirks on their faces make it hard to play it off.

“This is Amren. She's our manager,” Rhysand explains before you have to ask, a shit eating grin growing on his face as he takes in the flushed state of yours.

“Nice to meet you,” you try to keep your voice leveled but even to your ears it sounds breathless. You swallow softly and try to move the conversation along as Azriel starts rubbing small circles over your skirt, “You didn't tell me why you're celebrating.”

“Rita just told us she's doubling our performances at the bar,” Azriel explains, a little slur noticeable in his voice.

“Really?” You turn back to him as he nods again with a big grin on his face. He looked really excited to share the news with you.

“She's giving us a raise too,” Cass adds, and then looks back at his mostly empty cup and then at your empty hand, “We need to get you a drink.” You stop him before he can get up. “I think I'll be the responsible one tonight and stay sober.” The disappointed reactions around the table make you laugh but also accept that you'd be the babysitter tonight, they were all bordering on wasted already.

As the night went on, everyone only got progressively drunker. It seems like since they can't usually drink too much when they have to perform, they took the opportunity that everyone was here to party as much as they could. Even Azriel, who you never really saw drinking, was talking and laughing like you've never really seen him. He's more of a quiet guy most of the time, preferring to listen rather than entertain. It was nice to see him let loose a little.

The bar was getting quieter since the performance had ended a while ago and the big majority of the attendees started filtering out shortly after. The only people that were still around were ones that were as drunk as your present company. You didn't really mind being sober though, Cassian had brought you some sort of juice so you had something to sip on, and as loud as they were, they were easy drunks to deal with.

Amren had left right after the performance ended with a warning not to stay up too late since they had practice tomorrow. You got the sense she wasn't too much of a crowded bar person but she seemed nice enough. After that everyone else seemed to leave one by one, you tried to keep track of them, not wanting them to end up in trouble as drunk as they were, but as you saw Morrigan making out with a pretty girl with long black hair on the dancefloor your worry subsided.

This also left you alone with Azriel, who has been a lot more talkative and touchy than he usually is. At this exact moment, he was telling you a story, that you lost track of about halfway in, and holding one of your hands in between his, as he played with your fingers, twisting and turning the rings you were wearing. He has also not made any move to sit away from you even though you were the only remaining people at the table, your leg really didn't need to be thrown over his. Azriel was a clingy drunk and your cheeks hurt from smiling at the realization.

You were pondering on how to stop him so you could take him home. It was getting really late and you've already gotten almost unreadable texts from everyone saying they left. He had also told you he had work today so he has to be exhausted. But you didn't have the heart as you watched him excitedly continue on with his story.

At some point, he notices you weren't really following along and just stops, tilting his head to the side slightly. Your smile only widens at the sight. “What?”

“You're cute when you're drunk,” you admit.

“I think you're cute all the time,” he retorts without missing a beat, making your face heat up.

You always had a hard time telling yourself to keep your feelings for him platonic, but between the boyish smile, the flirtatious comments and the lingering touches, it was getting close to impossible to achieve today. “And flirty,” you struggle out.

“Only with you.” Cauldron. You really needed to get him to sober up and take him home.

You get up to do just that and within ten minutes, you're out of the bar and waiting for an uber by the same empty parking lot you usually find yourself in when you come out. He's also a pretty obedient drunk it seems. All you had to do was grab his hand and he looked like he was ready to follow you anywhere your heart desired. You were so glad you chose not to drink because your heart was definitely giving you ideas and your brain was the only thing stopping you.

Azriel was still holding onto your hand and you honestly had no intention of letting go of him. You couldn't really take your eyes off him. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed, the low lights of the bar hasn't let you really take in the sight. Some of his hair was sticking to his forehead and that same boyish smile hasn't left his face all night. No one should be allowed to look this good when they're drunk.

“Remember when we met here?” His words were starting to sound a bit clearer, maybe the cold air was helping him sober up a little or he was just getting tired. You think he told you he had work today and it was already late.

“Of course. It only happened a few months ago.”

“Feels like I've known you my whole life,” he says as he looks down at your linked hands, running his thumb softly over your skin.

“We didn't meet here though,” your voice seems to bring him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours, “You gave me back my keys when we were still inside.”

His smile turned a little shy at that. “I'm not sure that counts. I was running late and barely said anything,” he says rubbing the back of his neck, “I was beating myself up over it the whole show.”

“I…” you hesitate for a moment, unsure if he'll remember anything come morning. unsure if you'd want him to, “I was having a really bad day when we met, didn't even really want to come out, but I'm really glad I did, even though I got a massive headache out of it. If I hadn't come I wouldn't have met you. And I can't really imagine my life without you now.”

You tighten your hold on his hand and use it to pull him a little closer to you, close enough that you have to crane your neck back to be able to keep looking up into his eyes. “I think you came into my life at the perfect time, Azriel,” you smile up at him.

The emotion that crosses his face is so overbearing it's impossible to miss or confuse for anything else than adoration and… something more, something you've been trying to ignore for far too long. Gods, you really wish he was sober.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek softly, rubbing his thumb over your warm skin. “I think so too, princess,” he whispers, looking at you like he can't believe you're real. You've noticed the nickname only comes out when it's just the two of you and at times like this, when it seems he doesn't even realize he's said it, like he's been holding himself back from doing it regularly.

You could have stayed here, looking up at his beautiful hazel eyes all night, but it doesn't take long for a black car to come to a stop a few feet away from you, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts. You almost forgot you were still outside the bar, still needed to take this big drunk bat home. Taking a step back, you tug on his hand once again, so he can follow you to the car. “Come on, Azzie. We need to get you home.”

taglist: @bookishbroadwaybish @sad-anxious-muffin @mika-no-sekai-blog @starwholistenanddreamsanswered @secretlyhers @evergreenlark @vermillionwinter @anuttellaa @lilah-asteria @tinymarklee @lupinswolfsbanes @therealmoonstone

[l0vedoe]

Yandere!Lucifer X GN!Reader

Hi! My name is Kay, and it's my first time posting something on Tumblr (I don't know how to use this)

I've been really obsessed with Lucifer and I saw a Yandere!Lucifer fanfic that I loved a lot, but sadly there's no part 2 :( So, I decided I would write MY OWN Yandere!Lucifer fanfic! (Also without a part 2..) Here is the one I got inspired by! So, have fun! <3

Sorry if it's a little weird at first, english is not my first language and I'm still learning it!

Part 2 here!

Words: 3787

Synopsis: Your friends found a ritual that can bring Lucifer to your world and, unfortunately, you accepted to participate.

You were sitting on a pile of cushions with your arms crossed, not believing what you and your friends were doing.

A few days ago, one of your friends, Lesley, had found a ritual that could summon Lucifer, the King of Hell, into the human world. You knew that your group of friends were obsessed with those sobrenatural things, ghosts and anything with horror involved. You liked it too, but among them, you were the only one who didn't enjoy getting directly involved with these things. You liked the trivia, the facts, the stories you heard on the internet, but participate in rituals? Ha! No, certainly no. You were sensible enough to know that you shouldn't be messing with these things, whether you believed in them or not. You weren't scared, you just didn't want to disturb whatever exists out there.

Even though you didn't like the idea, you accepted, not knowing why though. Maybe it was because your friends kept insisting...

And there you were, in a dark room in an abandoned house that Lesley had found so that you all could perform the ritual.

You watched your friends as they prepared everything. One of them was making a large pentagram on the floor, while another was placing six candles around it. As soon as they had finished, the three of them stood inside the pentagram, looking at you as if that was all that was missing - and it was.

"Come on, you agreed to do it, remember?" Lesley says, holding out his hand to you.

"Unfortunately."

You said, standing next to your friends.

Lesley took a needle from his pocket and pierced everyone's finger, letting them each drip their own blood onto the pentagram below. Gab, your friend on your left, held out a lighter so that you could light the candles one by one. As soon as you had finished, you all left the pentagram and the atmosphere became more tense.

This couldn't turn out good.

"Lucifer, lord of the red skies, hear my sublime call, show us your true power and appear in this circle!"

When Lesley finished speaking, silence prevailed in the room... for a long time. Since you came here you believed it wouldn't work, but your friends really believed it would, so they were all very disappointed when they saw that nothing happened.

As soon as you thought to say something, the pentagram glowed in a gold so bright that it didn't seem real. It glowed so brightly that if you looked at it for too long, you would surely lose your sight, so you all looked away until the light ceased, and it did. With your vision still blurred, you turned to face the pentagram again and sighed in shock.

There, in the middle of the pentagram, was a short, blond man with pale skin. His eyes were yellow, his teeth were sharp and there was a red circle on each cheek. His clothing appeared to be of high quality and class, a red shirt covered by a white jacket with veiled details, matching his pants in the same color. His hat was also white, with a red band, a golden crown, an apple and a golden snake. A lot of information in a single hat, to be honest.

The man looked confused and annoyed as, with one hand, he was dusting his clothes.

Not only you, but all your friends looked at the man with admiration and amazement. “It worked..." they all thought.

No one said anything, they were too surprised to be able to formulate a single sentence.

"I knew Lucifer was a fallen angel, but I thought the fall would have affected his appearance?"

You say, analyzing the whole figure of the creature in front of you. He was pretty, you had to say.

Lucifer sighed, looking extremely bored with the situation.

"I thought no one knew the summoning ritual anymore, but it seems I was wrong." he says, looking at everyone in the room. "So...?"

He waits, with a judgmental look on his face.

Lesley wakes up from her thoughts and starts talking frantically.

"Oh, Great Lord Lucifer, King of Hell!" Lesley bows, followed by all her friends too, except you. Lucifer smiles. He liked those nicknames. "We're really, really sorry to bother you. We were just curious about whether this ritual would work or not, we didn't want anything to do with you."

Lucifer rolls his eyes. Of course, he had to have been summoned by a bunch of curious mortals...

"You see, I was taking care of very important things when you summoned me, and I am unable to return to my duties unless one of you makes a deal with me." Lucifer gestured his hand gracefully in the air as he spoke. You had to admit: the real devil was not at all what you expected. You expected a tall, red-skinned, goat-legged creature with long horns and a tail, but this...? It was laughable.

But of course you didn't laugh.

Lucifer turned his gaze on you, giving you goosebumps. His gaze on you was something you had never felt before, and it scared you. He was a shorty man and yet he was making you afraid of what might happen to you if you stepped in the wrong place.

You swallowed.

"I'm waiting!" Lucifer raised his voice, making everyone shiver. "Which one of you is willing to make a deal with me, hm...?"

Lucifer had an amused smile on his face as he analyzed each individual in the room. One shaking his legs, another trying to look away, another thinking about what to do to get rid of the blond man and, finally, you, who even though you were afraid, didn't seem to be letting your guard down. You looked at Lucifer with courage, and Lucifer liked that. He really did. When was the last time he saw someone like you? A long time ago, that's for sure. Most of the humans who ended up meeting Lucifer, willingly or by accident, used to be so scared and afraid that they would sometimes beg Lucifer to let them live with their souls in peace.

Souls... Lucifer never cared, really. Most of his deals didn't involve receiving the souls of humans in return, he had no interest in that, he just asked for anything that came to mind. Most of the time, something very silly. He didn't even like making deals with humans, it’s just time he wastes to satisfy the will of mortals.

Seeing that no one would take the initiative, he decided to do it for them.

"Since you guys won't make up your minds, leave it to me. Eeny-meeny-miney..." Lucifer began to choose, and when you saw that he was going to end up with one of your friends, you interrupted him. "Hm?"

"I'll make a deal with you if that's what it takes for you to leave us alone."

Lucifer smiles. He was loving your attitude.

"Are you crazy? You shouldn't do that! He is going to take your soul!" Lesley tried to warn you, worried about you.

"At least it'll help you not to mess with things like that again."

You say harshly, stepping closer to Lucifer.

So that's what you were afraid of? It was nothing new for Lucifer.

"All right, then. What's your name, dear?" Lucifer says, approaching you.

Everyone was looking at you worried and afraid. You liked your friends, but they were the kind who fucked up and left it to you so you could resolve things. Always.

"What do you want? My soul? Possession of my body?" You ignore the question the blond man made, leaving him a little frustrated, but without showing it.

He laughs.

"No, no, no! I don't care about these things, really!" He puts his hand on his chin and closes his eyes, seeming to think deeply, until he snaps his fingers, thinking of something. "Oh, I know! You're going to dance for me dressed as a duckling!"

You look at him with a mixture of confusion and disgust. Was this really the King of Hell that everyone was so afraid of?! You hold in your laughter.

"All right." You reach out to shake his hand, but he interrupts.

"Don't you know how deals work, darling?" he asks in a mocking tone, amused. "You need to tell me what you want in return."

"Oh, is that so?" you ask and he shakes his head positively. Actually, there was nothing you really wanted, you just wanted him to go away and for you to be able to come home soon. You should never have agreed to take part in that. "Oh, I don't know, man... give me a chocolate cake and we'll be fine."

Lucifer laughs softly. You seemed as bored as he was, and your boredom amused him too much.

He grabs your hand, and you automatically felt your casual clothes change into a yellow jumpsuit with a hood that had a duckling face on it.

You sighed. What a humiliation.

You danced a children's dance that you learned as a child, and you could see how Lucifer was enjoying it, his eyes shining, his cheeks reddening and a smile on his face. He clapped his hands frantically.

When you finished your dance, he sighed, snapped his fingers and your clothes returned to normal. A second later, you were holding a plate with a chocolate cake on it. It looked delicious.

"It was a great deal. I hope I never see you again!" Lucifer said, finally disappearing into a golden dust.

Your friends were wide-eyed and dumbfounded. They gave you a quick lecture on how you could have used that deal to get anything and you decided on a chocolate cake. You could ask for thousands of dollars, you could ask to have whatever you wanted, have as much power as you wanted, and you still decided on a chocolate cake?!

You didn't care, saying goodbye and making your way home while holding your chocolate cake. You were sure to devour it as soon as you sat down on your couch.

~

After that incident, your days went by as normal. You wake up, go to work, come home, go to sleep. Wake up, work, come home, sleep.

It was a routine you got used to, and it was good to be used to things, you weren't the type who liked new things.

However, after a week or so of performing that ritual and summoning Lucifer, you began to feel strange. You felt watched almost all the time, it was uncomfortable even to take a shower and this was something that was really bothering you. You've never been sensitive to these things, what was going on?!

In addition to the feeling of being watched, you also began to see figures out of the corner of your eye and hear voices calling you. You could have sworn you were going crazy, it wasn't normal.

You sent a message to Lesley, telling him what you were feeling. Lesley didn't care much.

Lesley Bff: idk, it must be in your head

Lesley Bff: I felt that way too during my first ritual

Lesley Bff: but you know what?

Lesley Bff: Lucifer could be watching you 👻

You laughed.

You: if he's not back in his hole, I'll send him back there myself

Lesley could be right. You've never taken part in a ritual before, so maybe it affected you more than you expected.

You sigh, smiling at the thought of being anything else. "How silly..."

You head for the kitchen to get some water. Opening the fridge, you take out your jug of water and fill a glass with the liquid, putting the jug away again.

As you bring the glass to your lips, you notice a blond man on the other side of the dining table.

You continue to drink your water.

Wait...

You spit out the water, looking back to the front and no longer seeing the man there.

"I need therapy…" you say, putting a hand to your forehead.

"Everyone needs it, dear." When you hear the familiar voice, you're startled and turn around so fast that you drop your glass on the floor, shattering it. "Wow... Do you get that excited just by seeing me?" The blond smiles debauchedly.

"What the fuck..." that's all you managed to say. "I didn't summon you, damn it! Get the fuck out of here!"

You demand, making the demon in front of you laugh.

"It's that way of yours that made me fall in love with you!" he says, still laughing.

What?

You look Lucifer up and down with disgust. How strange was it to have a religious figure, who you believed existed only in your imagination until a week ago, tell you that he's in love with you? Answer: very. ABSURDLY.

"Dude, I don't want any trouble, just do me a favor and leave."

You say, calmly, but Lucifer didn't seem to hear. His smile remained on his face, it seemed to grow with every detail he appreciated about you. It was as if he was hypnotized. You could notice his pupils dilating and his cheeks starting to turn pink.

He moves closer, making you take a step back to keep your distance.

"I'm afraid I can't…" he said, still smiling, but now without showing his teeth and without looking you in the eye. He was analyzing your body, your baggy white T-shirt, your plaid pajama pants and your matching slippers.

Your posture was as if you were ready to run at any moment. Lucifer noticed, after all, he didn't want you to run from him. Why would you run from him?

He took a step forwards, coming closer again, and that was the exact moment you knew you had to run. You weren't an idiot, you ran, you ran as if your life depended on it and, at that moment, it really did.

As you climb the stairs to the second floor of your house, you enter your bedroom and lock the door. You didn't think it would help much since your enemy was a demon who could easily teleport to where you were, but you still did what was possible at the time.

Trying to think of many ways to make the demon go away and get you out of this, you are interrupted by a voice on the other side of the door.

"Darling, please..." the voice was sly. "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk to you..."

You didn't trust him. You couldn't trust him. He was the fucking devil!

You didn't answer, and a silence remained. You tried to look through the keyhole, to make sure he was no longer there and you could finally get out. As soon as you put your hand on the handle to open the door, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You automatically turned round and punched Lucifer in the face.

"Get away from me!" You screamed, and before you could run away again, golden chains wrapped around you, preventing you from moving. "What the...!"

"Look..." Lucifer begins, caressing the cheek you punched. "I just want to talk, that's all."

You didn't want to listen, you were just trying to free yourself from the chains that bound you.

Lucifer continued.

"Your attitude that day captivated me, and I found it so attractive how you didn't show any fear. Not to mention, of course, that your dancing was incredible." he smiled. "I couldn't help myself and started watching you ever since. I couldn't stop thinking about you for a second. I've spent the last few days just watching you from hell. I've watched you sleep, you eat, you work, you shower..."

This last part seemed to have had a different effect on Lucifer.

Until now, you really believed that you could escape him, but as soon as you realized that it was impossible to free yourself from the chains, your body withered. You knew there was nothing you could do.

Even so, indignation and confusion overwhelmed you. What was this guy saying? In love with you? Really?

You looked at Lucifer angrily, while he looked at you as if you were all he wanted.

"I've been so lonely these last few years, and as soon as I started watching you I wanted to be with you even more and more..." he said, hugging himself and looking at random corners as if he was fantasizing about a thousand different things. "So I give you the honor of moving in with me! In hell!"

You widened your eyes. That couldn't be real. It couldn't.

Lucifer, the fallen angel, wanted you to live with him in hell?

You laughed. Of course it was a joke. If you accepted, he would steal your soul and you wouldn't be free for anything else. Yes, that had to be it. It was a way of persuading you, tricking you, so that he could get what he wanted.

You took a deep breath, recovering from your laughter, and kept your eyes on Lucifer's hopeful gaze.

"No!" you said, loud and clear.

You didn't want another deal, you didn't want to go to hell, you didn't want Lucifer! You just wanted to get back to enjoying your holiday peacefully watching whatever was on TV, you didn't want anything new.

Hearing you refuse, Lucifer's expression changed from a smile to disappointment. He couldn't believe it. Why were you turning him down? He was the King of Hell, he could make you powerful like him, give you anything you wanted! What was stopping you from accepting?

"Why?! I can give you anything you want! Power, money, comfort and lots of chocolate cake! Please accept it..." he looked sad, but deep down he hoped you would say yes. "I love you..."

His last words made you even angrier. The devil himself was confessing to you, you no longer feared him.

"But I don't love you! I want to get away from you, your hell and everything that surrounds you! I don't want power, I don't want money, I want you to go away!"

You scream, spitting out the words with hatred, not even caring what the blond guy might feel. You couldn't stand it any longer, the chains were tightening your body with each passing minute, you just wanted to go back to your normal life, without demons, without rituals, without anything weird.

You noticed Lucifer with his head down, quiet, and wondered if now he would accept it and leave you alone. Unfortunately, he wouldn't.

As soon as he raised his face, you noticed his eyes filled with a bright red colour, his horns began to appear from his head and his tail appeared behind him. Clearly, he was very angry, and now you felt genuine fear of what might happen to you now.

He began to smile, a fearsome smile that showed his sharp teeth.

His voice was slightly distorted. The chains squeezed you tighter and tighter.

"I am Lucifer, King of Hell, and it is not you who will change that." he approached, still smiling. "I can do whatever I want, and I want you, and I'm going to have you, whether you like it or not."

With those words, the chains disappear and you fall to the ground in pain. They were already suffocating you.

As soon as you calmed down, you looked up to find Lucifer staring down at you without smiling now. He snapped his fingers, forming a portal beneath the two of you.

Before you could fall, Lucifer caught you. You had your eyes closed, afraid to open them and see what you feared. You only felt Lucifer holding you until he finally stopped on the ground and released you. You open your eyes and realize you're in a spacious room, with a large bed with crisp sheets. The walls were dark, as was the floor. There were several pictures of Lucifer with a beautiful woman and a little girl and lots of rubber duckies scattered around the room.

You looked out of a window to see the red sky on the other side.

You were in hell, alone with the angel who had fallen from heaven, with no idea how to get home.

You despair, your breathing quickens and becomes heavy, cold sweat begins to run down your face. You turn around and find Lucifer taking off his jacket and hat and settling down in the bedroom.

You keep your distance as he starts to approach with that same smile as before, until you slam your back against a wall, making it easier for him, who could now approach you.

He came close, standing inches away. His hand caressed your left cheek, while the other took your right hand, bringing it to his lips so that he could kiss it.

"Let me go…" you plead, your eyes filling with tears.

Lucifer looks at you, smiling even more.

"No." he says, in the same tone you used when you told him that. "I tried to make it as friendly as possible, but you wouldn't co-operate. How could I keep the person I love close if I didn't force you to stay here with me?"

"This is not love...!" you say, without looking at him.

"It's your idea of love that's wrong, darling..." Lucifer's face moves closer to yours, his hand still caressing your cheek. "That love you humans appreciate doesn't exist, it never did. Love where the two live happily ever after only exists when one of the people involved makes it happen. And that's exactly what I am doing right now..."

He kisses the corner of your mouth, and you shiver at the touch of his lips.

Why you? What was so different about you that Lucifer needed it to be you? Since Lesley came with that, you knew it wasn't a good idea to do that ritual, you'd never done such things just because you knew it was never a good idea. You didn't want to mess with whatever was out there because you knew you could end up in trouble, and yet you agreed to take part in that damn ritual...

Look at the state you're in now: being forced to be Lucifer's prisoner.

"Don't worry, it won't be so bad." Lucifer says, now hugging you and putting his face into your chest.

You wanted to cry, scream, punch Lucifer until you couldn't, but you were afraid of what might happen if you did. You remained silent, cried silently, without moving a muscle.

Once again, your friends fucked up with things and you had to deal with it.

Just a quick reminder: This is just a fanfic, I don't like the idea of a yandere in real life. In real life, this is crazy and toxic, I don't support that.

So, if you guys liked it, let me know! You can also ask for me to write something about Lucifer again (I'm not doing other characters yet).

Thanks for reading! <3

[hvaneyflowers]

First love... and the only. ***********

Lewis Hamilton x femreader! single mother!

You took your little son to meet Santa Claus and accidentally ran into your ex-boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.

You and Lewis were together for three months during your high school time. You broke up after he started to get more serious with his racing career, and you decided that it didn't go with the lifestyle you had planned for you.

So you went to college and met a new guy, while he became a seven-time world champion. You got married and had a beautiful son, but your husband cheated on you with his secretary and left without saying goodbye. So now, you were a single mother of a toddler named Lucas. You were happy with your life. Being a mother was the best thing that had happened to you, but, deep inside you still miss Lewis. Every time you see him in the news you wonder how life would have become if you two were still together. Maybe you'd have the family you always dreamed about.

Little did you know, was that Lewis still misses you, too. He was engaged to his girlfriend of 7 seven years, Nicole, but never found the same happiness as he had when he was with you. He always thought about you and what had been life for you. He found your Instagram and found that you had a son, so you must be married. It hurt to see you with another man, but he knew he couldn't complain because it was you who decided to put a stop to your relationship.

Indeed, it was you who broke up with him. You were young and you were scared of the life he had planned for him. Becoming an F1 driver and a world champion. It sounded fantastic a first, but you immediately realized that it wasn't for you. Or that was what you wanted to think. You were scared of the fame he would have. All the people around you didn't stop telling you how he would cheat and leave you for a supermodel, or how he would be at parties every weekend and fall out of love with you. You didn't want to get hurt so you decided to break up with him.

Now you were with your little one waiting to meet Santa at the same place where Lewis was doing his Christmas shopping with the dog that would catch your son's attention.

******

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yourusername: we met Santa! 🎅

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*******

"Come on, my love. We're going for a piece of chocolate cake!" you told your little son.

"Pup!" your one-year-old screamed enthusiastically as he saw a dog walking near him. He let go of your hand and ran fast to the dog.

"Lucas! What have I told you? Never let go of mommy's hand when we are outside with a lot of people." you scolded him, putting on your knees to be his height.

"sowee, mommy. But pup!" he said pointing to the dog again.

"Be good to him, okay?" you warned him.

"y/n? y/n l/n?" someone asked behind you.

You frowned your eyebrows as you listened to your name. That voice. You could swear you've heard that voice somewhere. Maybe on TV or the radio. But who was its owner? You turned around slowly only to find your high school sweetheart. Lewis Hamilton.

"Lewis," you whispered in shock.

In front of you was the seven-time world champion of Formula 1, Lewis Hamilton, or as you used to call him, "my love". He looked just as surprised as you. You had never seen each other again since your graduation more than 15 years ago. He looked so handsome. Age has been good to him.

"Pup!" your son's voice got you out of your thoughts.

"His name is Roscoe. Roscoe, say "hi" to our new friend," he kneeled down, petting his dog.

"Say "hi" to Roscoe, Lucas. Be gentle, baby," you told your son, doing the same as Lewis.

Lewis looked at you as you were speaking to your little son. You looked as beautiful as you were the last time he saw you 15 years ago. He was still in love with you. He quickly took a look at your hand. You weren't wearing a marriage band, so you must be single. Maybe he can try to be with you once again. He won't let you go again. Not this time.

"Do you want to drink coffee with me?" he asked you without warning.

You looked at him in disbelief. You wanted to cry. Memories came through your mind, remembering how much you still loved him.

"Yes!" your son answered, running to Lewis. He laughed and hugged him.

"Do you want some hot chocolate, buddy?" he asked him.

"Yep" the little kid answered.

"And you, y/n?" he asked you. You looked him in his eyes, and you could swear he was almost begging with them.

"Yes, I would like it." you finally answered with a little smile.

"Fantastic! For the good old times." he smiled.

You went to a cafe outside the mall. Lucas was so happy to be there with Roscoe. They were best friends already. You sat in front of Lewis. You were nervous, like when you were a teenager on your first date.

"And... How are you? Long time no see." you broke the ice.

"Good. Everything's been good," he said.

"That's fantastic." You smiled.

"And you? You're a mother now. That's wonderful," he smiled, pointing to the toddler hugging his dog. Poor dog, you thought.

"Yes. His name is Lucas, and he's almost two. The best thing that could have happened to me. He's everything to me. My true love," you smiled, seeing your son.

"He's so cute, and I believe you're an amazing mother." he smiled at you.

"Thank you. I try my best." you laughed a little. You had missed this the most. The softness of being around him. His smile and laugh. God, you miss him a lot.

"And your husband?" he asked. Your smile faded down.

"I'm divorced. He left me for another girl. Much younger than me. We filled up the papers, and he left. He never came back, and Lucas doesn't know him and doesn't have his last name. It's only me and him." you told him staring at your coffee mug.

"He sounds like a jerk," he said, a little angry.

"He is," you laughed.

"I miss you," he confessed after a short silence.

You looked at him in surprise. He misses you like you miss him. Your eyes were full of tears. You wanted to cry. So many emotions and memories.

"Don't cry. I didn't tell you that for you to cry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My fault." he tried to calm you down.

"It's not that. I just... I miss you, too. A lot." you confessed.

He smiled, and so did you. He rubbed your cheek with his hands and leaned to kiss you. You kiss slowly, not wanting to waste any feeling of it. You both had waited for that moment for so long. It felt unreal. When you pulled apart, your son was looking at you with curious eyes.

"Mommy?" he asked you.

"Hi, baby," you laughed at his cute angry face.

"Did you like your hot chocolate, buddy?" Lewis asked.

"No buddy," your son said, without looking at him.

You both laughed at your little son and spent the rest of the day talking about each other, enjoying your company. In the next few days, you were still in contact, and Lewis invited you and Lucas to spend Christmas with him. An invitation you didn't reject.

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 500.000 more.

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: Roscoe made a new friend at the mall, and I found the love of my life. Meet my first love and the only one, y/n. Love you, babe!❤️

view all 400 comments.

username2: WHAT?!

username8: DID YOU HAVE A KID AND DIDN'T TELL US?!

username0: I think that is his new girlfriend's kid.

username9: Roscoe looking good as always!

username3: Congrats! She's so beautiful. Sending love!

georgerussell63: I HAVE A BABY BROTHER!

landonorris: you meant Roscoe has a baby brother. You're more like an uncle. georgerussell63: I'm not so old! mickschumacher: if we're talking about ages, well, we should mention Fernando. He's the oldest. landonorris: Omg, yes! He gives vibes of being the grandfather! georgerussell63: So it's like this: Me: the (favorite) uncle. Lando: the second uncle. Mick: the third uncle. Fernando and Toto: the grandparents. I like it. landonorris: me too. mickschumacher: 👍 fernandoalo_oficial: what?

username83: LEWIS IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE! I REPEAT: LEWIS HAMILTON IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE!

username98: she's so beautiful! Congrats! I hope you're very happy with her!

username76: YOU'RE A DADDY NOW!

username4: that kid doesn't know who he has as a stepdaddy. SO LUCKY!

yourusername: ❤️

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, and 1.000 more.

tagged: lewis hamilton

yourusername: I've always loved you❤️

lewis hamilton: ❤️

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[sematarygirls]

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ   You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

[cottonundiestf]

Plain Jane (Attribute Theft, BE, Altification)

She hated that her parents named her Jane. They didn't know they were signing her up for torture. They didn't know Jane Gray would grown into an exceptionally plain young woman, turning the name she grew up with since childhood into the perfect insult. Plain Jane. Even her nickname couldn't be unique.

The eighteen-year-old finished the gauntlet of social torment that was high school and she didn't see how college was going to be any better. With her dishwater brown hair, stick-like figure, lower-middle class upbringing, and total lack of style, Jane was overlooked at best and teased at worst.

There was a big senior bonfire at the beach for graduates to celebrate their last summer before going off to college and jobs, and for some reason, Jane let her friend Danielle drag her out for one last hurrah.

When she got to the beach, everyone was having fun and barely noticed her arrival. She went to find Dani, but before she could, her eye was drawn to a gold necklace nestled in the cool sand. It had three gold moon charms of different phases, each seemingly missing a stone that should be set in it.

Jane considered looking for the owner of the necklace, but everyone was too busy to give her the time of day anyway, right? Screw it, she deserved one nice thing tonight.

She fastened the necklace around her neck as Dani, one of her only friends at school, found her. She handed Jane a drink so they could reflect on graduation and look ahead to college, an experience Jane still wasn't optimistic about.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Jane. Besides, college is going to be the perfect time to reinvent yourself."

Everyone always said that. But that was easy for Dani to say; she never had a problem standing out. She grew out of a goth look and attitude over the years, but that just left her as some kind of alt rock goddess, with her dyed hair and a collection of tattoos Jane's parents never would have signed off on at such a young age. Even her style was full of bold blacks and vibrant neons that Jane just could never pull off.

Jane wished she could be half as exciting as Dani while Dani seemed drawn to stare at her friend's new accessory. "Woah, that's a really cool necklace. Is it... um... new?"

Dani looked dizzy, her eyes starting to glaze over. "Dani? Dan—woah." The sudden wave of dizziness passed on to Jane, but it wasn't the only thing.

She felt the ripple of goosebumps across her skin as art pieces etched themselves in ink, each tattoo flooding her head with memories of tattoo parlors and songs that inspired them. It wasn't the kind of music Jane listened to, except... well, it was, right? Her and Dani traded songs and bands, sneaking out to underground concerts throughout high school. Dani was even the one to dye Jane's hair a vibrant blue before graduation.

When the sudden wave of memories and pleasure associated with her tattoos subsided, Jane finally looked herself over, realizing she didn't imagine the change. She started to say something to Dani before looking her over again.

She had fewer tattoos and piercings; if Jane had to guess, she had lost about as many tattoos as Jane gained. What's more, her blue hair was now black with a few blue streaks. She was still gorgeous though, which was why Jane was dating her.

Wait. What?

Jane was always your typical straight girl, but that's not what her memories were telling her, and it certainly wasn't what her body thought. All those nights sneaking out weren't just to go to parties. Dani and Jane had their queer awakenings around the same time, and who better to explore that with then your punk rock bestie?

Dani finally came to, seemingly unaware of what changed or the features Jane... well, stole. Unintentionally, but that was absolutely what happened. "Want to get out of here and...?" Dani just grinned.

Jane felt the sudden warmth in her cheeks and... other places. "Yeah, let's—wait. Er, sorry, but not just yet. I... want to go around and talk to a few people first?"

Dani stared at her girlfriend blankly. "...You do?"

Jane laughed weakly, coming up with a lame excuse of wanting to end things on good terms before leaving her hometown in the Fall. Dani accepted the excuse with a kiss and left Jane alone to inspect her necklace.

As expected, this had to be involved somehow. The crescent moon charm had a new sapphire set in it, leaving her with two gemless moons. Assuming she knew what that meant now...

Jane wandered the periphery of the party, looking girls from her graduating class over. She felt a little guilty for what she took from Dani, but she didn't have the same apprehensions about the girls who spent the years ignoring her.

Eventually, she spotted Lily. Everyone knew she was a social butterfly and a huge flirt, and she had the look to back it up. She had the hips, she had the ass, and as every guy on the beach could tell you, she had a perfect pair of breasts. She even had a pretty face to match, proving fate played favorites.

But fate wasn't in charge tonight. "Hey Lily! Good luck next year. Got any plans?"

The redhead looked away from the two guys chatting her up, confused by the introvert's sudden friendliness. "Hey. Um, Jane, right? Thanks! I've got a job lined up, so... er... sorry, that's just a really nice... necklace?"

No one around them seemed to notice, but Lily and Jane were falling into the same daze she put Dani under before as their realities swapped a few key details around.

There was a sudden spark in Jane's heart. Something feisty. She was always an awkward, quiet kid, but that was all over. She was the one who made herself the life of the party wherever she went. She could feel it on her tongue; flirtation was like a second language Jane was fluent in.

Jane's beanpole figure filled out, her hips flaring to accommodate a new bubble butt. Her flat chest swelled, not quite to the perfectly shaped DDs Lily has... had, but to a size where she could feel them weighing on her chest. Lily was never actively antagonistic to Jane, so she was willing to leave her some gentle curves and some perky A cups.

But she did take all she could from that stunning face. Soft freckles, high cheek bones, full lips, and some fuck-me eyes that could make a man unload his wallet.

Which was what made Jane realize what else she took: the new job Lily had lined up. Jane's awkward, unimpressive body was now made to dance and show off, and that meant she was excited for the chance to strip her way through college for some spending money. She even stole Lily's stage name, Lulu. (It wasn't Lily at her most creative, but now it wasn't Lily's at all, so that was fine.)

Lily finally came to, finishing her inspection of the new ruby in Jane's half-moon charm. Her face was so bland now, like a stock character made to fill in the background of a video game. When Jane smiled and excused herself, Lily looked around, unsure of what to do now. The poor thing would acclimate to her new social anxiety in time, and in time, Jane would adjust to the guys who kept offering her drinks.

With one charm left, Jane had an idea of who she'd use it on, but the night was young. She spent some time dancing and teasing guys from her class, reveling in the attention she lacked in her old life. This was almost perfect.

But perfection was Melody Morgan.

"Jane? No fucking way. That can't be Plain Jane."

Interrupting Jane's dancing, a blonde in a teeny bikini glared at her. Melody was your classic rich bitch, with the best toys, the most popular boyfriend, and a pair of fake tits bought by daddy as a graduation gift to add on to her natural beauty. All those blessings and she still chose to spend the last four years tormenting Jane.

The guy Jane was dancing with, Melody's boyfriend, Tristan, looked at her in confusion. "Plain Jane? Are you feeling okay, babe?"

"Hush!" She pulled her fingers across her lips like a zipper, and Tristan's voice cut out like he was muted. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, but... HEY! You took my necklace!"

Jane blinked, realizing what had happened. The charm necklace was Melody's. And with it, there came the realization that Melody's nice things weren't blessings; they were magic.

The realization dawned on her: what if this wasn't the first time Melody used magic to steal the luster from other girls?

"You little twerp. I'm going to turn you into the toad you are, then I'll take my... my neck..."

Melody was so arrogant, she didn't realize she was staring into the charms, falling under the power of a very pissed off Jane.

There was an element of intent with stealing from people, Jane realized. She wanted half of what made Dani so bold. She wanted most of Lily's beauty and allure.

But she wanted everything from Melody. The bitch didn't deserve any of it.

She didn't focus on herself because she wanted to watch Melody. She watched her thighs thin out and her curves flatten. The luster of her blonde hair went dull. The tact Jane used with Lily was gone as every bit of tit the bitch had, real or synthetic, dissolved until Melody's chest was as flat as the rest of her.

Looks weren't all Melody didn't deserve. Memories started vanishing, from her honors classes to her active dating history to the witchy rituals her aunt taught her when she came of age. She looked around at the beach as all the faces became strangers to the witch who was once the most popular girl in her class.

Eventually, the plain, uneducated, outsider came to her senses, looking around only to realize everyone on the beach was acting like she didn't exist. The only person who seemed amused by her was an absolute goddess rocking tattoos and long, shiny blue hair.

The guy behind the bluette bombshell had his hands all over her, disregarding the stick-figure girl. "Who's this, babe?"

The blue-haired witch grinned wickedly, filled with the elitist attitude she stole from a top mean girl. She'd stolen her rival's body, mind, and boyfriend. Dani wasn't a stickler for monogamy, and really, didn't she deserve a boyfriend and a girlfriend?

But that wasn't the only thing she took from her former bully. "I don't know, Tristan. Hey bitch, what's your name?"

It took the mundane young woman a second to even remember. "Oh, um. Jane Morgan?"

That made Jane, now Melody laugh. "Oh, Plain Jane! I knew her once, but she just sort of fell off the face of the Earth. Glad to see you've been up to nothing interesting, but this is actually a closed party."

Melody Gray fiddled with her necklace, the full moon charm now adorned with a brilliant diamond to complete her set. It sat above an almost cartoonishly large chest. Maybe she went a bit overboard, but daddy promised her a boob job, and Melody loved when every guy and girl on the beach couldn't help but stare.

The queen bee of the beach sighed, officially done with Jane. She wasn't a bully anymore; she wasn't anything. She was insignificant, and that was enough for Melody. "Run off and do... well, who cares, right?"

Jane ran off with tears in her eyes, grappling with a sense of loss she couldn't quite explain as she ran off to her unremarkable life. Melody, meanwhile, reveled in her boyfriend groping her as her new memories as the popular it girl and richest witch in town replaced a much less interesting life she was happy to leave behind.

(Thank you to my Sugar Patrons for helping me with another fun poll of suggestions! There was a tie, so that means you get attribute theft AND altification! The model used goes by Riae! Find ways to support me as a Sugar Patron on my Discord!)

[ashwhowrites]

Okokok, but how about this? Eddie and Reader have been dating, like, not that long, like 3 months, and then Eddie made new friends, like guys he found HideOut or something, and when he goes to present, his girlfriend is there with him, and when it's time for her to meet her new friends eddie acts awkward towards her, as if she and he are just "acquaintances" or just "friends". You decide the ending! Im so happy your requests are open again and you’re back!!!! 🤭

I love this angsty idea, you let me pick the ending so ⚠️prepare for no happy ending :) I hope this is what you wanted and looking for <3

I'm happy to be back!

⚠️little violence ( slap to the face)

Never proofread

Just a family friend

Y/N and Eddie haven't been together very long, just hitting around three months. Both locked in that honeymoon phase where everything was beautiful and they never fought about anything. They've been locked in their small bubble but Y/N wanted to meet Eddie's friends.

He met these guys at the hideout, the bar where he performs with his band. A band she still hasn't met. But he stays out late to drink with these new friends of his. And Y/N just wanted to be part of it. Sure, he didn't have to bring her every single time, but maybe some weekends she could tag along.

Whenever she brought it up, Eddie would agree with her, but never made the step to make it happen.

So she took matters into her own hands. Eddie headed off to set up the band before his show, tonight she decided she'd go watch and wait around to see him. She figured he'd be surrounded by all his friends so that would be the perfect opportunity for him to introduce her. She grabbed a little black dress, and some tights. Excitedly getting herself ready.

She pulled up to the busy bar, walked in, and headed to a small open booth in the back. She ordered a drink and waited for her boyfriend to take the stage.

~~~

Once he was done performing she got up, taking a deep breath as she walked towards her sweaty boyfriend. He was laughing with some guys when she tapped him on the shoulder.

His eyes widened when he saw her, taking in her small dress. He was shocked to see her, he knew she wanted to see him perform but he didn't think she'd do it without telling him.

"Hi, eds!" She said excitedly, wrapping him in a hug as she pecked his cheek. Eddie stood frozen, his brain trying to get himself out of the situation he found himself stuck in.

"Y/N... hey" Eddie stuttered out, she pulled away and looked at him confused. Why was he so awkward?

"So Eds, who is this?" One of the guys asked, he had a welcoming smile, dark hair, and green eyes. She honestly felt more seen by him than her boyfriend who kept his eyes locked away from her.

"I'm Y/N, his gir-" but Eddie caught her off, "My friend! Just a family friend." He shrugged with a smile. He still wouldn't look at her.

The other two boys shuffled awkwardly, all three knew what she was about to say. The one with green eyes held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Troy." She appreciated his kindness and shook his hand. The other two followed his movement. She learned their names were Luke and Blake.

Troy invited her to play pool with the rest of them, she wanted to say no. She wanted to go home and cry that her boyfriend ignored their relationship. But she wasn't going to do that.

If he wanted to ignore their relationship, she could too.

~~~

Eddie felt himself staring at her and Troy too much. His gut was twisting as she giggled when Troy whispered in her ear. Her dress framed her perfectly and Eddie hated that his hands weren't anywhere near touching her.

He tried to focus on the game, not the fact that his girlfriend was flirting with his friend.

Y/N smirked as she watched Eddie completely suck at pool. She knew he was a good player, but she was in his head. He missed every shot and she could tell he was getting more frustrated. She wasn't sure how much of it was because of her.

It was when Troy went in for a kiss that Eddie snatched her arm and began to drag her outside. She felt herself getting pissed as she yanked her arm free but followed.

"What is your problem?" She snapped

"My problem? You are practically fucking him right in my face!" Eddie spazzed, looking at her like she was crazy for asking.

She wanted to laugh in his face, so she did. Laughing at his switch of roles. Eddie watched her with a wild look. He was getting pissed as she laughed in his face.

"Why do you care?" She asked, relaxing after her laughing stopped. She crossed her arms and glared. "Why do I care?" Eddie scoffed, "Maybe because my girlfriend is acting like a whore?"

She wanted to smack him right across the face, so she did. She slapped him as hard as she could. His head whipped to the side as he held his cheek.

"Funny, because two hours ago, I was just a family friend. I'm not a whore, I was putting you in your place. But you? You are an asshole." She sneered.

"You're right! I'm sorry. I don't know why I froze and lied. I really like you and I don't want to mess this up. I'll fix this, just tell me how. I'm sorry, okay?" He said softly. His puppy eyes stared at her as he filled with guilt.

"Okay." She smiled and turned around. She got her apology and now she was done.

"Okay? What does that mean? Are we okay?" He called after her but she just kept walking.

"Oh no, we are so fucking done!" She called back and got in her car.

Eddie stood there as she raced out of the parking lot. He tried not to be upset, it was just three months, and he could get over her easily.

So why did it hurt so fucking bad?

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[222low]

hi pooks i miss your writing :(

d’you think you could do an enemies to lovers sort of fic w yangyang/winwin/mark/haechan/jaehyun? take your pick!!

enemies to lovers yangyang ✧₊⁺

you thought you both hated each other, but you soon figure out that wasn't the case at all.

content: academic rivals, fluff, teasing, suggestive (?), kind of just little scenarios not a whole fic #lazy..hopefully i did yy well i love him sm

you'd known yangyang since you two were little, and this rivalry had been going on since you two both scored the highest on your 2nd grade test.

he'd always been a cocky guy, teasing you if he ever got the higher test score, raising his hand before you, making sure he got the best seat in the classroom

you were both all grown up now, obviously, but you would have not expected to see him when you walked into your lecture.

throughout high school, you would see him grow up...but something about how he looked now, more mature, had you staring longer than usual.

you sat down in the same row as him, but not too close, as he grinned at you. you hated that grin.

it wasn't until you guys were paired together for a project that you knew you were fucked.

it's not like you didn't know who yangyang was. not that you weren't comfortable working with him, it just wasn't idealistic.

you sucked it up anyways.

this didn't go as planned. you guys disagreed on every little thing. you couldn't even get past if you were gonna use a poster or an online slideshow when presenting.

you guys decided on an poster (of course, you got what you wanted) and made plans to meet in the schools library twice a week.

plenty of time to get it done, right? wrong. you guys bickered the whole time..only to realize you looked stupid in this library, arguing about a simple project.

maybe it was because you two were so used to going against each other, your routes of doing work clashed, but you tried to make it work for the sake of both of your grades.

amp-ing up the time to 3 times a week..the final stretch of the project, you realized hanging out with yangyang wasn't too bad.

he would always crack jokes...the stupidest jokes, but you had to laugh. it was kinda cute of him.

i guess you were staring, because all of a sudden the laughing stopped and he had been looking at you, confused.

you brushed it off quickly before getting back to work, a light pink hue dusting his cheeks.

you realize that even though you two have very different work ethics, you can see why he's at the top of his class.

yangyang had complimented how you weren't all too bad, and working with you was bearable...couldn't use any other word??

you couldn't deny it though, it was pretty interesting hanging out with yangyang. you guys had caught up on highschool..since you weren't too close.

he told you about all of his friends and how they had started a band, and you thought to yourself, maybe yangyang wasn't this evil rival you've been going at for the last 10 years about whos grade was the best.

after one of your study sessions, yangyang had asked you if you wanted to grab lunch. this is the first of many lunches you guys had went out to.

trying out different places in the area was fun for the two of you now. the project had been due already (and of course you both passed with flying colors), but for some reason you two had still been hanging out, if not three at least two times a week.

it wasn't until yangyang became a little bit flirty with you, complimenting your outfits more, making sure to pay for your meals, etc. that you had started to feel a certain type of way.

you really thought long and hard about these feeling for him. did you really feel like this? maybe it was just because you were forced to hang out with each other...but why'd you keep going? he did get more mature..taller..handsome. and he could be sweet sometimes.

you had a crush on yangyang.

something you never thought you'd say. or even think.

little did you know, he was gonna ask you on a date. of course, these lunch dates we're "dates", but neither of you established that. oh to be young, dumb, and in love.

he was always a confident guy, but somehow he was super nervous to ask you out. what if you were just going because you felt bad for him? or because you both did the project together, now you were obligated?

but he knew deep down you enjoyed his company. enjoyed being with him.

he asked you if you'd like to go to dinner with him. on an actual date, not just these lunch get togethers.

holding his breath waiting for your response, he was beyond relieved when you said yes, smiling from ear to ear.

you blushed. you really liked that smile.

you still remember that first date. he picked you up, complimented your beautiful outfit. couldn't keep his eyes off of you, even on the way there. you had to remind him to make sure he was driving.

he held doors open for you, paid for your meal, bought you a drink. (what a gentleman!)

this was just the beginning of many dinner dates, and of course, where it all started, lunch ones.

now, your boyfriend yangyang surprises you with your favorite snacks at your library study sessions.

you boyfriend yangyang that saves you a seat next to him in all of your lectures.

your boyfriend yangyang that now invites you over when your study sessions are at night, insisting that you cuddle and watch a movie together to decompress.

your boyfriend yangyang you gives you butterflies in your stomach every time he kisses you. whether it's on the cheek before you walk into class, or when you guys get a little bit side-tracked alone during a movie on his couch.

your boyfriend yangyang who knows you're a little stressed about the upcoming test, so he draws little doodles on sticky notes and puts them on your notebook everyday, being your number one cheerleader.

your boyfriend yangyang who still teases you when he gets a higher score than you, out of love, of course.

a/n: REQS OPEN! thank u for the req anonnnn !! jas active era?? maybe...but i was excited to write this one. can you tell i love yangyang? got a little carried away...hopefully it's up to par with what you were expecting..im honestly not great at sitting down and writing full stories, so im hoping this worked out alright :3 i especially enjoyed writing the last part. i do wanna get to writing solo work for other members too..but im going thru a yangyang brainrot and have to feed into it..but who's complainin!!! hope u all enjoyed reading <3

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] Jure Maček, Joker Out's drummer: "I don't have time for dating"

An article and interview with Jure Maček, published in Suzy magazine on 1.3.2024.

Original article is available here for Slovenske novice subscribers. Article written by Anita Krizmanić for Suzy magazine. English translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Music has accompanied the 27-year-old from Logatec since early childhood. He fell in love with it because of his father and grandfather, who were excellent musicians themselves. Besides them, he also had a number of other great teachers who introduced him to various genres, he played in the symphony orchestra and several bands, and just over three years ago, he finally found what he had been looking for – Joker Out, the band that became his new family. A pleasant and open conversation partner, who believed in his dreams and is living them today, gave us an honest interview about what his journey was like before he and his band embarked on the incredible odyssey that started last year before Eurovision.

Tours are tiring, but also incredibly exciting. // "They wouldn't let me play the drums in music school, because they weren't on the curriculum, so I decided that I would learn how to play them on my own."

"Each of us dreamed about one day finding ourselves where we are now. We're aware that many people don't have that chance. We miss home, we haven't been there very often in the past year, which we've already got used to. To each other, as well. We support each other and we know how to coexist. We're doing just fine, but there are moments when you have to grin and bear it. There aren't many of those, though, because we're mostly having a good time and we enjoy making music," a smiling Jure tells us from London, where the boys have been temporarily living and creating since the beginning of the year.

During our chat, he walks around the city and tells us that life with Bojan, Kris, Nace and Jan is very simple. "Because we're great friends, even though we could all use a moment of solitude now and then. Especially now that we're living in a small London apartment. But we know each other so well that we know what each of us is like, when and why he's in a bad mood, what he needs, and how to fix a certain situation. We're a nice and happy family," he smiles, and adds that they all know how to take a step back, but at the same time, they're firm when they want to emphasise their idea or opinion.

"Sometimes it's better if someone says what they're thinking out loud, presents their idea, and if we collectively latch onto something, we can get great results. It's the same with music," he continues.

LIVING HIS DREAMS AT PEACE

The fruits of their hard and dedicated labour over the past few weeks can already be seen, some are yet to materialise. The band recently sent 'Everybody's Waiting' out into the world, a song that centres the personal thoughts and contemplations that accompany many young people.

"When we make music, we try not to think about other worlds and the audience. When a song is being made, each of us has to feel it and add a small part of what makes him happy to it. When we get to the point where all of us are happy with our work, we know that we created something good, and that's also when people can feel it or find themselves in it," he says.

Joker Out, with their magic and meaningfulness, always take us into worlds where everyone is safe and understood, even when they think they're not. He agrees that a loving attitude towards yourself and others is key in the chaotic world that surrounds us.

"I am at peace with the people around me. I appreciate them very much and they make me even more happy to be in this world." He is grateful for fulfilling his dreams, which he never let anyone take from him as a young musician. "I currently make a living only from music, so I am living my dreams," he smiles.

After working on the album, the boys are leaving for the European tour.

DRUMMERS LIKE CONTROL

As a drummer, he keeps in the background, but that doesn't mean he lives in the band's shadow. "We're special people. We're happiest if things are under control. Just the fact that we sit all the way in the back says enough. You can see everything from there," he says, and adds that drummers are pretty technical types who are more reserved than the other band members. "We like the space we create for ourselves around the drums. That is our world and we really enjoy it. We're pretty nuts," he jokes.

We also chat about the band's fans, who are a unique phenomenon, as they know all the lyrics. "It's a crazy feeling when people abroad sing songs in Slovenian." Otherwise, he never craved attention and he's pretty introverted. "Out of everyone in the band, I'm the least enthusiastic about hanging out after gigs, not because I don't like the fans, but because I like my peace. I need time for myself after performances, which the fans very much respect and understand. After each gig, we take time to meet people, even if not all of us are there."

Despite looking thousands of girls in the eyes at gigs, his heart is currently not taken. "There's no time for dating. There was none last year, and none this year yet either," he laughs.

STEALING HIS MUM'S POTS

During our conversation, we also touch on his upbringing, and he tells me that he fell in love with music as a child, since his father Mitja and grandfather Cveto were also musicians. "I remember dancing around the living room with grandpa on Sundays, and moments when I stole my mum's pots from the kitchen, took them to the living room and banged on them with full force. All of that moved something inside me, leading me to being a musician today," he's convinced.

Another key moment happened when his father, who was also a drummer, took him to the concert of the guitarist and frontman of Dire Straits, Mark Knopfler, in Tivoli Hall as a boy. "That was probably where it first became clear to me that I really wanted this," he says. His parents enrolled him in the music school in Logatec where he studied percussion instruments for eight years, he played in a brass band and a symphony orchestra, he was a member of various bands in elementary school.

"They wouldn't let me play the drums in music school, because they weren't on the curriculum, so I decided that I would learn how to play them on my own. After that, I had a more and more successful band each year, it escalated until I joined Joker Out," he remembers his younger years, when he was getting to know various genres and enjoying his calling more and more each year.

"We drummers are special people," says Jure.

FALLING IN LOVE WITH FILMING BECAUSE OF HIS DAD

Music, however, wasn't the only thing he spent years getting to know. In high school, thanks in part to his uncle and his dad, who often took him to the field with him as a cameraman, he worked as a correspondent cameraman and editor for RTV Slovenia (Slovenian national television). "When they were looking for a cameraman at RTV Slovenia, I already knew and understood a lot of things. I kind of miss that job. It was very varied because I spent a lot of time in the field, I was at sports, cultural, and political events. During the time when I was both a cameraman and a musician, I realised that there were a lot of parallels between those worlds."

Now, he sometimes misses a slightly more regular schedule. "I used to be home at four in the afternoon, now I won't be home until May," laughs the likable drummer, who really liked working as a cameraman, but was mainly driven by his commitment to music. Now, for just over three years, he's been part of a band in which he's found something more. "I actually didn't really know how to get to that point, because in Slovenia, we often hear that you can't make a living from music and it might be better to find something else, that it's difficult to survive in the music world, that it's not worth it. But there was always something driving me so strongly that I was determined to prove to myself and others that it's possible."

THE CAMERA IS ALWAYS ON

If you want it strongly enough, you can achieve anything you want, he says. He's sure that as a musician, he will never achieve anything bigger than Joker Out. "Even though I like to emphasise that I'm living my dreams, it's not all sunshine and roses. The music world can be very tough, you have to fight every day, because you don't know what you're getting yourself into and what the result will be. Everything is a little unknown."

While the members of Joker Out are constantly discovering new unknown things in their creative world, they're definitely not unknown on the music scene. They caress our ears and souls with their finely crafted lyrics and excellent music. Their fans can now even hope that these outstanding young musicians will record a documentary about their journey in the near future. "We started recording in 2021 and we have a lot of things in stock that might interest people. With us, it's like this: when we're on tour, the camera can be on at any moment, so we have to be a little mindful of how we behave. Actually, everything is recorded – backstage, travelling, hotels, arguments, as well as lovely moments!"

The fans are thrilled by his not-at-all-reserved photos.

DREAMING OF SUMMER AND CAMPING

The magical pinnacle of the band's musical odyssey, which started even before their acclaimed Eurovision performance, happened last October in sold-out Stožice. On this colourful journey, they only had a moment to catch their breath at home before setting off again for new adventures. After a temporary move to London, the boys travelled to Helsinki on the 28th of February, where they did production rehearsals, and their European tour starts on the 1st of March. "We will board the bus which we will live on for one month. I'm looking forward to this experience and the bus tour, as it will be our longest yet," he doesn't hide his excitement. The band will come back to Slovenia for seven days at the end of March to regain their strength, then they will have a few performances in the UK, and on the 15th of April, they will lock themselves into a studio in Hamburg for a month, recording the album that was created in London.

"This year, we were home for three days, until the 4th of January, which makes the days spent in Slovenia even more precious," adds Jure, who is endlessly excited for the summer. "I've seen enough hotels in the past year, so I want a genuine holiday like in the old days, when a friend and I converted a car to be able to sleep in a camp. I miss simple holidays in nature and without a phone. That's what I really want this year, at least for a week or so," one of the most charismatic Slovenian drummers reveals his humble wish to us.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

[the-kr8tor]

Ahem, ahem. 🪦 anon, stop tearing bits of my heart out for a snack with your hcs🥲👊 Little HC/drabble incoming! I give you more loser! Hobie with lots of love💕💕💕

Hobie would love to say that he bagged you and charmed you like the cheeky bastard he can be, but that would be a lie. A terrible, obvious lie at that. He can still recall the day you'd "picked him up and put him on your shoulder", as he liked to tell the younger Spiders.

Heart thundering in his chest and ears ringing with the loud cheers of the crowd, Hobie sweeps his gaze over the sea of adoring fans. His fingers are a blur as he rocks out on his guitar, bobbing his head along to the melody as their singer belts out the lyrics to their song. It was the band's biggest stage yet, the underground club fitting up to over a hundred people. Despite being so caught up in the rush of performing for such a huge crowd, he still found himself searching the ocean of bodies. Searching for one person in particular.

Hobie's breath hitches, and he almost misses a note when he finally spots you, brown eyes locking onto your own. You, in all your glory, dressed like a straight-up Rockstar as you swayed to the music about three rows from the front. And when you give him a knowing smile, he has to tear his gaze away before he freezes up from sheer embarrassment. He'd only ever seen you from afar, but damn if you weren't the prettiest bird he'd ever seen.

Every show the band has ever performed, you've attended. Every pub, every underground club, and hovel, you were there without fail. And during each show, you'd always find a way to make eye contact with him. It never fails to make him weak in the knees. He didn't even know your name, never even said a word to you before. Yet, you've somehow managed to plague his every thought. It had gotten to a point where even his band mates had taken notice, teasing him about it to no end.

Strumming the last few chords on his guitar and Kamala bringing it home with her epic high note, the last song for the night officially ends. Cheers and applause erupt into an astounding roar as they all take a bow and thank the people for attending the show. Hobie can't help the way his grin stretches from ear to ear, so wide that his face starts to ache. Performing always left a lingering buzz beneath his skin, a good kind that took hours to go away, not like he wanted it to. The band makes their way backstage, Ned patting him on the back and Kamala linking arms with Riri.

"We killed it out there", his best friend exclaims while giving them all high fives. Hobie wipes the sweat dripping down his forehead and chuckles as Riri playfully punches his arm.

"Damn right we did! 'Specially Hobie. What with his bird watchin' and all..." She says teasingly, giggling at the glare Hobie throws her way. Rolling his eyes, he can't help the flush that settles over his ears as he thinks back to you.

"Not my bird... I don't even get birds", he grumbles, taking a swig from his water bottle. Which was true, of course. He'd always struggled with talking to people he fancied, always stumbling over his words and shaking like a leaf at even the slightest effort of flirtation. His awkwardness didn't attract most people, unfortunately, the idea of a punk like himself being so pathetic at chatting someone up almost laughable. Hobie had made his peace with that side of himself long ago, had accepted that he might never experience the feeling of warmth from holding someone dear. But then you had to come creeping into his sight, his life. Now, he can't help but think that maybe he'd actually, possibly, have a chance at love... Yeah right.

"Where'd Kamala go, Ri", Ned asks curiously as he stuffs a handful of chips in his mouth, rousing Hobie from his musings. Hobie raises an eyebrow as he sweeps his gaze around the dressing room, noting that their singer was indeed missing. Riri shrugs, turning her face back towards the mirror as she carefully fixes her eyeliner.

"Dunno. Think she said somethin' 'bout fetchin' somethin'..."

"Yeah. 'Cause that's helpful", Hobie snorts before getting up to go search for their runaway band mate. Only, once he closed the door behind him on the way out, he turned around to come face to face with you. You, who greeted him with such a pretty and sweet smile that he thought his heart shot up into his throat. He's frozen as he blinks down at you, sweat beading at his forehead and palms growing clammy. Because why on earth were you backstage, in front of him?? He was going to make a fool of himself, he just knew it.

"Hey, Hobes! Hope you don't mind, brought our fan back here 'cause she has a backstage pass. Said she was dyin' to meet ya", Kamala says with mirth gleaming in her eyes. She was a damn liar because they don't give out backstage passes, and Hobie couldn't move to shoot her a withering glare. Too lost in the glimmering depths of your eyes, the way they pulled him in like a calming tide. Kamala chuckles at his lack of response and pats his shoulder before slipping into the dressing room, leaving him all alone with you. Was it getting hot in here?

"Great show tonight. You guys rocked, as always", you say softly, voice calm and sure and oozing a certain amount of confidence that Hobie was quite sure he didn't have. Especially now, what with you looking up at him so prettily through your lashes. His lips tremble slightly as he slowly opens his mouth, before closing it with an awkward chuckle. He nervously rubs his hands on his pants, trying to rid himself of the growing shyness that threatened to have him immobile like a statue in your presence. It was definitely hot in here. Hobie clears his throat before opening his mouth again, lips wobbling.

"Th-Thank, uh‐ ahem! ...Thank you. M-Much appreciated..." God, did his voice really just crack right now? He prayed you didn't hear it, even though you probably, definitely, did. A small chuckle leaves your lips as you step a little closer towards him. Hobie's breath hitches and his eyes flutter at your close proximity. He can see himself in your sparkling gaze and he begs whatever is out there that he doesn't look like a sad fool in your eyes. Your pretty, beautiful, breathtakingly exquisite eyes. Oh, he was such a goner.

"Didn't think you were the shy type. How cute", you coo breathily as you bring up a hand to softly touch his arm. Hobie's jaw drops open and his heart beats so hard in his chest that it aches. Did you just say he was cute? Him? He's been called a lot of things by a lot of people, none of them pleasant. But cute...? And the way you just purred out the words, too... Was there an earthquake happening? Was he shaking? He felt like he was shaking, practically vibrating at your touch alone. You tell him your name then, a name that he's already seared inside of his brain the moment it left your lips. It takes several more heartbeats before you chuckle and start speaking again.

"Gonna tell me your name, handsome? Or are you just gonna stare at me all night? 'Cause I would very much like to know your name." Shit, had he really been staring? He couldn't help it, not when you were a glowing beacon even underneath the dim lights of the club.

"H-Hobart, uh Brown... But I normally just go b-by Hobie", he breathes out, almost like he's out of breath. Like you've stolen all the air in his lungs the moment you called him handsome. Hell, more like the moment you even graced him with your presence. Your hand on his arm trails down to tenderly hold his clammy hand in yours, fingers intertwining as you slip something in his palm. The action makes him shiver and visibly gulp as you lean in to whisper in his ear.

"Well, Hobie, I'm free on Saturday. Call me up if you'd like to go out sometime." Hobie feels like an arrow just hit him in the chest, eyes fluttering shut and jaw dropping open. When he blinks open his eyes again, you're gone. Just like that. The air rushes back in his lungs, disappointment coiling in his gut now that you've left him. Sure, he wasn't able to say much, but he really just wanted to gaze at your pretty face longer, hear more of your soothing voice that rattled his bones. And, did you really tell him to call you? Seriously? Him?? With shaky fingers, he lifts up whatever it is that you handed to him, breath hitching and eyes widening so large that they looked like they would pop out of his head. A phone number. Your phone number. Given to him. By you...

"O-Oh, shit..."

"OH SHIT IS RIGHT!!! HOW THE FLYIN' FUCK DID YOU STUTTER YOUR WAY INTO GETTIN' HER NUMBER, MATE?!"

"Oi! Shut the hell up, Ri! Clearly, the bird was just as obsessed about him as he is with her."

"Dunno, Neddy. She might have a thing for pathetic men."

"Kamala! You're supposed to be makin' him feel better, remember? Like he didn't almost fumble her just now!"

Eye twitching and hands balling into fists, he turns towards his band mates, irritation and fury shining in his eyes. Hobie was gonna murder them.

WISNSIXNJWXD BABES YOU ATE WITH THIS I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WROTE THIS IN MY ASK BOX JUST LIKE THAT

This was so fucking cute!!!!! Loser! Hobie my beloved ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Kamala is the greatest wingwoman ever!

They're right, R was just as obsessed with himas he is with her 🥰 R was so smooth with Hobie whew!

"dunno, Neddy. She might have a thing for pathetic men." BAHAHHAHAHHA THAT WAS SO MEAN BUT SO RIGHT

Get you a man who's afraid of fumbling you that his voice cracks just from your smile!

[hypersonic04]

Fresh Out The Slammer: Part One

circa 2019. ross is 29, its the notes era. imagine graham norton ross. there's a lot of waffling because I feel like I need to get back into the swing of writing, and also set the scene because this is going to be three parts! so apologies for that. i've missed you all so much and i'm just glad to be posting something for the first time in ages. i hope you're all okay i would love to hear what you've been up to in the, like, five months i've disappeared into the abyss for. I'M WAFFLING AGAIN. sorry. okay. fresh out the slammer! enjoy. i'm nervous. okay.

Word Count: 2,848

Part One: 'Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you.'

Who were you supposed to call on nights like this? The question seemed to be the only thing your brain circled back to as tears streamed down your face, a sob caught in your throat, heels harsh and loud on the pavement, even over the chaos of muffled bars. Your 28th birthday, stood outside a club that you were probably too old to be at in the first place, phone vibrating with 'where r u???' - who were you supposed to call?

Your birthday didn't feel very worth celebrating when you looked back on the year you'd had, your freshly shattered heart stinging as a very raw memory of being walked out on a week earlier seared itself through your memory. He'd always been a dickhead, the kind of boyfriend who'd told you that he was the best thing to ever happen to you, or that the whole writing thing wouldn't work out, but what did you have if you didn't have him? He'd been a pillar in your life since, well, forever. He'd shown you your favourite holiday destination, your favourite wine, your favourite book - were you just a product of him? The thought panicked you. No, you were cool. You had loads of interests, and friends, and hobbies.

The one thing he'd not shown you was something you'd kept a secret from him.

Your favourite band.

Even now, your stomach twisted as you recalled him and your youth, nights tangled up in bed sheets and clumsy hands on sticky dance floors, the mere thought of his recurring aftershave sending a wave of nostalgia over you as you perched on the ledge, lighting up a cigarette. It'd been years since you'd spoken to Ross. Now that you thought about it, it was probably around the same time Charlie had come on the scene, private-schooled, 5'9, biology-studying Charlie. You'd ignored Ross' messages inviting you to their gigs out of guilt for Charlie (his ego would have been well and truly tarnished), reluctantly un-followed him on Instagram when there'd been questions asked about him, tried to pretend that there wasn't an invisible tattoo of his hand prints at your waist, the memory of his fingertips forever stained in your hair, remnants of his kisses on your starving lips. Nothing has ever come close to Ross, and you'd be lying if you said that when Charlie had been away for work, you'd replayed the reels of your nights together in your mind.

You looked at the time - 3:17.

His number probably wasn't even the same as the one you had in your phone.

You leaned your head back, looked up at the sky, squeezed your eyes shut. There's no way you were about to do this. He probably thinks you're a weirdo anyway, cutting contact like he'd been a random one-time snog in a club. He might not even be in the country, for all you knew, with his world-famous band and world-famous records and most likely world-famous girlfriend. You'd not thought about that up until now - his girlfriend. Perhaps non-existent, probably existent. Jealous curled up your spine, a sick feeling settling in your stomach.

It was like your hands weren't your own as you scrolled through your contacts, brain on auto-pilot and suddenly feeling 20 again, stood outside a bar at university, ringing him to come and get you. The picture you'd set all those years ago was still the same somehow, and it made you swallow heavily - his head pressed next to yours, hair swooped to one side and probably wearing a Hollister polo. You both looked so young. It stopped you in your tracks, almost. You thought of how different things could have been if you hadn't ran away from everything, panicked and settled down like you thought you'd wanted, let him go on tour with the band and forever have the 'what if' hanging in the windows of your newly-purchased house with Charlie. What a success that was.

You pressed it and waited. It rang. And it rang.

As if you'd thought he'd pick up. It probably came up as an unknown number. You felt daft as you held the phone to your ear, tears stinging at your eyes again. The only person you'd thought to call.

Your stomach dropped when the ringing came to a halt and you could hear crackling.

And then his voice. Sleepy, low, tired.

Familiar. Warm.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" he repeated as you stood in silence, lips pressed together at the sound of his name down the line.

"Ross," you managed to choke out, running a hand through your hair.

"Is everything okay?" he sounded concerned and you could hear his footsteps across what sounded like a hardwood floor, pacing.

"I just..." You looked up again, swallowing. "I'm so sorry."

"Y/n/n? What's going on?" Coming to a halt, his voice softened.

"I'm in Manchester, and I guess I'm kind of lost? I don't know, it looks different than it used to, and I'm on my own. I don't know why I called, you're probably not even here, are you?"

There was silence from across the line for a second and you squeezed your eyes shut. If he didn't think you were crazy before, he definitely did now.

"No, I'm here. I'm in my flat." He said softly.

"Oh, right," Your head was spinning. "I'm sorry for bothering you, I just-"

"Whereabouts are you?"

You breathed in sharply.

"I'm not sure, it used to be that bar we went to every week, but it's changed now, it's a kebab shop, I think." You glance at the neon sign, voice shaky.

"Are you staying in a hotel or anything? I can order you an Uber, or-"

His voice crackled down the line.

"I was, but I've lost my friends, and I've had a drink and I can't call Charlie and I don't know what to do." Your throat feels tighter when you say it all out loud. "I don't know, I called you because it was the only thing I could think of, but it's fine, I can-"

"Stay there," you can hear him moving around, "I'm leaving now."

It felt like an eternity between him hanging up the phone and arriving, perhaps because all you could do was think about how you've ended up here.

The car pulled up slowly and your stomach dropped, the window rolling down and his smile visible as he ducked his head.

It was like your feet were frozen to the ground for a second. His lips curved at the sides, hair messy and just as dark as you remembered it, but his eyes were older. They creased at the corners a little, slightly darker, a bit more tired. It wasn't just you who'd been trying to figure things out since you graduated, exhausted by the demands of post-graduate existence.

"Just move that, sorry." he mumbled as you opened the car door, throwing an empty water bottle onto the backseats. His eyes seemed immovable for a second, like he was having the same thought process as you. You felt intensely vulnerable for a second, and suddenly remembered the ladder in your tights and the mascara stained cheeks that faced him.

"God, it's been so-"

"I've missed you-"

You both started at the same time, an airy laugh escaping as you let the silence consume you.

He started the car without another word. It took everything in you not to stare, or cry, or say how much you'd missed him and how sorry you were that you'd abandoned it all. Instead, you kept your gaze forward, drinking in the streets you'd traipsed as a student.

"We're here." he glanced at you, pulling up outside an apartment block.

"Oh, you didn't need to bring me here, it's okay, I think there's a Premier Inn up the road." You furrowed your brows at him, shaking your head and starting to rifle through your bag. "I've got my card, it's fine, I-"

"It's fine." He said with a slight smile, shaking his head. "You can stay at mine. 'Will be nice to have the company."

You smiled at him softly, in the way you might smile at a cashier or your boss. It felt strange, transactional, like maybe there was a void between the two of you. You'd put it there.

"Thank you." You said quietly, following him out of the car and up the steps.

The lift was creaky and you closed your eyes for a second, the tiredness hitting you. The past two weeks had been a lot, and you'd thought a night out might fix everything.

His flat was just as you'd expected it to be. Records and CDs and books on every available surface, a scattering of guitar picks, some empty mugs, a weeks' worth of unopened post.

"Is it just you that lives here?" You asked as you stood awkwardly in the kitchen, watching him as he put the kettle on and grabbed two mugs. A Macclesfield FC one, and a souvenir one from Germany, it seemed.

He nodded with a hum, glancing at you. "You can get comfy, it's fine."

The fluorescent kitchen light felt exposing as you slid your heels off, placing them neatly by the door with your bag. He handed you the cup of tea promptly after and you followed him into the living room. It was spacious, yet the sheer amount of stuff everywhere made it feel lived in.

"Why couldn't you ring Charlie?" he asked after at least five minutes of the two of you pretending to watch whatever random Top of the Pops repeat that BBC 2 had shoved on for the 4am slot. He looked at you intently, but his tone was calm, simply wondering.

"We've split up." You looked down at the mug, mouth drying out. "About a week ago."

"I'm sorry to hear it." He said after a beat, looking back to the TV.

"Don't be." I shook my head, lips pursed. "Wasn't as good as it seemed, all that house-owner, engaged shit."

His gaze softened, but you could sense his sadness for you.

It's strange, to sit in a room with someone you once slept with on the regular, thought you were going to marry, like people do when they're 19, and feel like you know nothing about them. You could mentally draw him, the identical placement of the birthmark on his right hip, the exact colour of his eyes, yet you couldn't identify which bedroom was his in this flat, or what he'd had for tea the night before.

"I'm sorry for calling you at this time." You said meekly, looking back at the TV.

"I was awake anyway, it's okay." He glanced at you. "It was nice to see your name on my phone."

"I'm sorry for not calling sooner, then." You corrected your earlier statement, watching as his lips tilted into the oh-so-familiar smile your fingers had traced over countless times.

"I missed hearing from you."

"I missed hearing from you, too."

The silence was deafening, almost claustrophobic as you inhaled deeply. His eye contact faltered, skitting back to the TV, blinking heavily. You wondered what he was thinking, whether memories of you under him were also still as fresh in his mind as if they'd happened yesterday.

He downed the last of his tea, sitting forward.

"There's a spare room across from mine, down the hallway. Feel free to get a shower, use some of the clothes in those drawers, whatever you need."

"Thanks." You placed the half empty mug next to his on the coffee table. "Do you have any paracetamol or anything? I can't really hack hangovers anymore, even if it is just a couple of cocktails."

"Could you ever hack hangovers?" He teased as he stood up, walking into the kitchen. You blushed - so he was thinking about those mornings, too.

He handed you the box to take to bed with you, showing you the bedroom.

"There's a clean towel in the bathroom," he pointed to the on-suite, "I'm just in here if you need anything." His neck craned to look into the bedroom behind you, pointing to the bathroom and drawers, but you could only look at him. His tan skin, his tousled hair, neat, tidy beard, the chest hair that poked from the top of his t shirt.

Standing across from each other in the hallway, you could see into his bedroom. Light green sheets, a book next to his bed, a pair of jeans thrown over the end of the bed-frame. You wanted to know him again. To know him, and his life, and his body. Charlie was superficial - his lavish proposals, extravagant holidays, Instagram posts declaring you as 'the love of his life' and lonely nights spent waiting for him to get back from a boys night out. Ross was everything. He was 'picking you up at 3am', remembering how you liked your tea after 7 years apart, dark eyes and curls and haphazardly strewn clothes and empty beer cans on bedsides and you.

"Thank you, again, for letting me stay over." you looked up at him, his gaze already fixed on you.

"It's not a problem."

A second passed before you turned on your heel, a shaky nervous hand reaching for the doorknob.

"Night," You said, with a small smile.

"Night."

You closed the door and watched his turn away, broad shoulders disappearing into the opposite room.

The shower was hot, steaming up the bathroom, as you turned it on. You'd dug out a stripy t-shirt and some joggers you could roll up from the back of the wardrobe.

You tipped your head back in the shower, letting the hot water run over you. The shower gel lathered against your skin, and it felt symbolic, to be washing away the day, the thoughts of Charlie, the fake smiles of your fake friends in fake, pose-y bars. Ross had always felt real to you, the realest thing in this city. He'd been brutally honest with you when you'd needed it, soft with you when he knew he had to be. The memory of your fight flashed into your mind - the last day before you went back home after graduation, tears in his eyes, down your cheeks, raised voices and a final, slammed door. Your eyes opened quickly as you remembered how you'd told him you wanted stability, not to follow his 'silly band around the world'. You hated yourself for it, even now. He's been hurt, like it had meant nothing to either of you, the way you'd got into your car and drove back to your parents with blurred vision, Car Seat Headrest blasting through the stereo as you fled the scene.

You thought about him laid across the hall. Was he wide awake? You tossed over onto your side, duvet pulled up to your neck. It must've been about 5am. You willed yourself to just fall asleep. The sound of floorboards creaking forced your eyes open, but they hushed as soon as they'd chorused through the flat.

The smell of coffee was the thing that roused you from your sleep. So I did sleep, you thought.

His back was to you as you entered the kitchen, the rustle of the TV and clanging of utensils echoing off the walls.

"Morning," You yawned, smiling as he jumped and turned to you. His gaze trailed up and then back down for a second, the sight of you in his clothes clearly taking him by surprise.

"Did you sleep okay?" He smiled. His hair was flat on one side, sleepy eyes, crinkled t-shirt. You nodded, heat rushing to your stomach at the sight of him. "Did you?". He just hummed in reply, pouring water in the mugs.

You sat and ate scrambled eggs on toast. You talked about work. You discussed the rugby, each other's siblings, old uni friends. It felt comfortable, and right, and you had to catch yourself when you stared at him for too long and began to picture doing this every morning.

"We leave soon, though."

"Leave?" You asked, sipping your orange juice.

"Yeah, for tour." He looked up at you from his plate. "Next Wednesday."

Next Wednesday, for tour.

You felt silly for thinking your lives would be sewn together seamlessly, that you would fit into his world like you'd never left.

There wasn't much conversation after that, and it was like you could read his mind for a second. He'd said that to warn you, to prepare you, because he too was imagining this as a constant. This wasn't going to work, and you both knew it. You wanted it to, desperately, and when you left his flat that morning, your eyes welled like they had that fateful day in 2011.

You'd hugged him tightly before you'd left, his arms around your waist firmly, yours around his neck. He was going away for a year, touring the world, and you were going back to your mum and dad's, because where else could you go?

[undoing-anobrains]

bartender *

minors dni

wordcount: 2.4K

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving)

You felt very much out of place backstage surrounded by talented musicians, some of which you'd idolised for years, even if it was just from behind the bar. You wouldn't have been in the position if it weren't for your best friend who had convinced you to sign up to work for this company with her for a laugh, thinking you'd only be pulling pints for the crowd who were too pissed to comment on the size of the heads on said pints and turning away rowdy teenage lads hoping to use their fakes. Until you both arrived earlier that day and discovered that she had been assigned to that area but you were being sent alongside a few others to man the bar backstage which only the performers had access to.

It was quieter than you expected but you supposed that made sense given the constantly busy stages. A crowd of people would come in and order drinks after their performance and eventually filter out after a few minutes leaving the place dead again. Trying to make yourself  look busy you polished the same spot on the counter with a cloth and chatted idly to the three others who'd gotten roped into serving backstage.

Glancing up at the clock you realised that the headliners of the night would be finishing up momentarily and once they had been taken care of and left, you guys could close up the bar and go home for the night. And sure enough there was an influx of people into the previously empty space. Unlike the prior customers they were a large group seemingly including the band's entire team.

You hadn't looked into the line-up for the festival since it was so last minute when your best friend signed you both up to work at it so you were trying to peer into the crowd of faces in an attempt at subtly recognising one of them and determining who they were. Unfortunately though you were struggling to place any of them and instead busied yourself with pouring beers from the taps and measuring out glasses of wine and other spirits as requested.

There were a few cocktails here and there too which you were internally screaming at because the most experience you had with cocktails was drinking them so you were fairly clueless as to what the actual ingredients were for most of them. You'd never bartended before this as well so it was a recipe for disaster. Luckily your co-workers seemed to know what they were doing, or at least they did more than you, so you let them handle the more complex drinks.

Once the bar was calming down and everyone who had already been served their drinks moved out of the way to go sit at the tables dotted around the space you realised who had been playing. Mainly because the very identifiable frontman had wandered up to the counter and taken a seat on one of the stools directly opposite you.

Trying your best to remain composed you greet him warmly as he settles at the bar. Matty looked a bit exhausted but still had that magnetic charm about him. You were more of a casual listener but you knew your best friend would be going absolutely insane if she knew who you were going to be serving. He leaned against the bar and smiled, making eye contact with you "So..." he started and his voice was way more captivating than you expected "is there a reason everyone is queuing for the other bartenders that I'm missing or are they just intimidated by pretty girls?"

You're taken aback by how forward he is but at the same time this seems very in character for him based on the videos your best friend constantly sends you of their latest concert "I wish I could say it was the latter," you find yourself admitting "but this is my first time bartending and I don't really know what I'm doing so it's probably for the best."

"Oh," he raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your honesty "you could've fooled me love. Think you can handle me?"

Oh fuck. Your brain was going haywire because of the stupid pet name. It had already been reeling from him calling you pretty just moments ago but this was so much worse. Especially with the addition of his question - could you handle him? In that moment you come to the conclusion that you'd really like to try. So you tell him just that "Of course," with a challenging "do your worst."

His eyes are firmly fixated on you now and he almost seems amused by your response. Nevertheless, he gives in to your bait "get me a bottle of malbec will you...an old fashioned and two pints."

"The whole bottle?" You echo, albeit teasingly "good thing you've already performed...wouldn't want it to make your finger work sloppy."

Now Matty appeared even more interested by you "cute," he hums thoughtfully "but I can assure you darling that even with it, my finger work is more than adequate."

It shouldn't be this easy for his words to affect you but the insinuation has you thoroughly flustered even if you started it. "Good to know," is all you can manage to say in response as you finish fixing the drinks he ordered.

Then you pull a rather impulsive move and find yourself scribbling a note on the paper in the pocket of your apron and ripping it off, folding it up as small as you can but hopefully large enough that he realises what you've done. You pass him his drinks and he makes two journeys over towards one of the tables in the back where you can now see the rest of the band sitting down.

Just then you feel a gentle touch on your hand. Startled you look up and find Matty standing there with a faint smirk on his face. His fingers wrapped gently around yours and he slips something to you out of view of the other staff behind the bar. The sheer contact was enough to send a tingling sensation down your spine. "Thanks love," he says casually before letting go of your hand and returning to his friends.

When he's out of view and nobody's looking in your direction you open the palm of your hand to find a fifty dollar bill in it and the tiny piece of paper you had previously given him returned with a barely legible 'yes' scrawled below your much neater 'meet me after?'

Although your mind is anywhere but where it should be, you help the others wipe down the bar and start to close. Polishing glasses is dull work but it gives you the best view of Matty so you do your job dutifully and try to focus so you finish faster. The band and their crew slowly start to filter out of the bar, chatter spilling from their lips as they loudly talk of an after party happening else where. Matty is the last of them to leave, slowly striding out of the room and sending you a purposeful look before he’s out of sight.

There was no way of misinterpreting that look Matty had sent you though. Dark eyes clouded over with lust, soft peach skin and a lip bite that could be described as nothing less than seductive. You couldn’t walk fast enough away from the empty bar once you’ve finished cleaning up after them.

The bathroom in question was just a left turn and three doors down from the bar and once you arrive at the door you force yourself to take a couple of deep breaths. It was beyond fathomable that just behind this door coated with chipped white paint was Matty. Matty, waiting for you.

Pulling down on the handle gently, you tug it open, ignoring the tentative shake of your knuckles and the anticipation creeping up your spine. Leaning nonchalantly against the edge of the sink, ever present smirk spread across his cheeks was Matty, He ran as hand through his slicked back hair and sent a teasing smile in your direction.

“I’m surprised you came this quickly pretty girl,” he comments letting the nickname drip smoothly from his lips “so eager already.”

A light blush travels down your neck at Matty calling you pretty again. God was it addicting, you were already craving to hear him utter those words in that sultry tone again.

“Shy?” Matty quirks an eyebrow before you even have time to respond to his original remark “didn’t seem like it when you were making jokes about my fingers and giving me the eyes baby.”

“I’m not.”

“What was that?” He sends you a teasing glance “I didn’t quite hear you there.”

You repeat yourself embarrassingly quick at his command and seeing how quickly you obey brings a wide grin to his face.

“Tell me something darling are you going to be a good slut and make this worth my while or are you going to stay over there like a shy little thing.”

Your fingers loop into the belt holes of his trousers and you undo the belt before pulling them carefully, sliding gently until they pool around his ankles. The outline of Matty’s hardening cock was enough to make you pause and stare for a moment, already practically drooling and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Then you drop to your knees before him, your hands finding a home on his surprisingly firm thighs.

You pull Matty’s boxers down his thighs, exposing his dick which was becoming increasingly hard. He was breathtaking: veiny and bigger than you expected and you have to stifle the moan that nearly escapes your mouth at the mere sight of it. But of course it was beautiful, it was his.

Lapping your tongue experimentally at the tip of Matty’s cock you lick the drop of precum glistening at the surface. This had to be heaven, sure you were on your knees in a dirty bathroom still in your work uniform but being there with him was transformative. You move on to lick from the tip all the way down to the base of his cock multiple times, slathering it in your spit and pure desire. Matty glances down at your with an expression you can’t quite read as you look up through your lashes at him and take the head of his cock into your mouth once more and hollow your cheeks.

“Oh fuck baby, you’re doing so good for me. Fucking made to suck my cock weren’t you.”

You blush at the praise and the feeling of his cock brushing against the back of your throat repeatedly. You move further down, taking more and more into your mouth. Bobbing your head you feel strong hands grip into your hair and tug it roughly.

Upon glancing up you notice how dark his eyes have gone and before you know it he’s guiding your head until your nose is pressed against the skin just above his balls and held there. You gag around it at first but eventually became accustomed to the feeling of the obstruction in your throat and swallow it further and further.

"Take it all the way in slut,” Matty commands you “swallow around it baby, go on. I know you can do that, can’t you.”

You do just that, wanting to do anything to please him and as you do you hear a deep groan come from the throat of the man above you and you can tell by the shaky breaths and gasps he was letting out the longer you kept him there that he was growing close to his release. Just as you feel him twitch, Matty yanks your hair harsher than before and thrusts into your mouth, pounding against the back of your throat rapidly to the point where you feel a stream of salty tears trickle down your cheeks because of the intensity and speed your face is getting fucked at.

Matty smirks in satisfaction at how you shake, body convulsing as your eyes shine with tears and the little water marks on your cheeks from previous tears glisten in the dim light. You truly look beautiful there he thinks, on your knees and just taking everything he has to give you.

“That’s my good little slut,” Matty mumbles, sweetness dripping from his tone despite the obvious juxtaposition between his words and voice “you look so, so pretty crying like this for me.”

“Can’t take it much longer,” you all but whine when you come up for air “I know you’re close baby, cum for me.”

A final teasing lick of the tip of his cock and a few meaningful pumps of his shaft cause Matty to cum, leaving ropes of the salty white substance in your mouth. To which you swallow with a smirk before taking Matty’s dick fully back into your mouth to lick it clean.

“Such a good girl for me,” Matty beams “you took such good care of me darling.”

You look away bashfully, unsure what else to say but “thank you.”

A calloused hand from years of playing guitar then cups your chin and tilts it upwards so you’re forced to make eye contact with Matty. “I think you deserve a little reward darling.”

It would have been embarrassing to observe how you perk up with eagerness at the idea of Matty giving you a reward if you weren’t so fucking horny. You’d been growing restless and needy while getting him off and you could only hope he’d reciprocate the favour.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” You dare to ask.

Matty grins “you’ll have to wait and see love, think you can hang on until we get back to my hotel?”

The thought of waiting even longer for him to return the pleasure you were so desperately craving seemed torturous in that moment but you were also dying to leave the grimy bathroom so you nod and slowly stand up on your shaky knees. Matty looks more pleased than he should be as you slightly wobble and have to place one hand on the sink and another on his thigh to get up.

“Let’s go,” you say with an air of confidence and you can’t wait to see where the night will take you.

[elliesmainhoe]

Goodnight, Mom

HBO ELLIE WILLIAMS X MotherFigure!Reader

This character is under 18 so the relationship is PLATONIC

Summary: After you help her down from a panic attack, Ellie calls you Mom for the first time.

Contents: mentions of David, trauma response, Ellie isolates herself, Night terror, Panic attack, Panic attack comfort.

A/N: I re-watched the last of us, and omg I need to comfort this bby so bad.

Ellie was such a ray of sunshine, so funny, so fiesty, so sweet. But ever since what happened with David, she just wasn't herself. She was quiet, reclusive and she never left her room, you went upstairs with a tray of food three times a day and left it outside her door, only returning an hour later to see it half eaten and abandoned in the same place you left it.

You missed her. You missed your walking boost of serotonin. Joel, Tess and you had been given her by the fireflies, you were all friends aswell as coworkers, well Joel and Tess had a little fling going on- but to each their own. She was so cute when you first met eachother, her little pocket knife and her messy brown hair.

And ever since you were assigned her as 'cargo', you hadn't been the same. The 14 year old immediately took a liking to you, and you to her. She stuck by your side through everything, you were practically attached by the hip.

She was with you when Tess died, when you tried to find Bill and Frank, when you met Henry and Sam, and when Joel told you he would no longer be coming with you. Ellie was your shadow, always lurking around watching you, smiling in admiration when you killed some infected in a particularly impressive way.

And that's why, after David, you couldn't bring yourself to deliver Ellie to the fireflies. You weren't stupid, you had a degree in biology for fucks sake, you knew- deep down that Ellie wouldn't make it out of that operating room. You knew she would want the truth and so you told her the truth.

Sitting in an old rusted car, driving down an abandoned highway back to Jackson you told her. She was conflicted- her life? For the world's? She was inclined to say yes. However, once you reminded her of the reality- it was unlikely it would work, and if it did it would be used as a political weapon against Fedra, and probably wouldn't see another person after its initial creation.

Once you made it back to Wyoming, you both settled down. Maria gifted you an old run down house to take on as your own.

When Ellie isolated herself in her room, you knew you had to leave her to it. She went through a traumatic experience and she deserved the time by herself to heal, no matter how much you were worried about her.

So, to take your mind of it, you went on patrols and found paint, old books, decorations and lights to try and make the house a home, and you think that you did that successfully. You painted the kitchen cabinets, reupholstered all the stools and couches. Added string lights in the living room and your bedroom to make it more cozy, and added potted plants around the house to bring the outside in.

After about 2 weeks the only room left to decorate was Ellie's. You had a large can of pale blue paint, and had collected a lot of posters of 70s-80s bands she had info-dumped about a while back.

It was night time, 10pm to be exact and you were exhausted- you did your usual routine, applying a moisturizer on your face and brushing your teeth before heading towards Ellie's door.

A small crack of warm light came out from underneath the wooden paneled door. Your first knocked onto the wood,

"you alright in there sweetheart?" you spoke softly, earning just a hum in response. "Well I'm going to sleep now- if you need anything don't be afraid just come wake me up"

"night y/n" Ellie's voice spoke quietly from the other side, if your ear wasn't pressed up against the panels you wouldn't of heard it. "Goodnight Ellie."

••••••••

At first the sound of Ellie's screams were no surprise, you often heard her sobbing, begging and pleading in your dreams, but this one was different it was clearer than usual.

Eyes flittering open and reaching over to your bed side table, you flicked on the reading lamp and blinked as your eyes adjusted to the warm golden light the bulb emitted. It did not take long for you to realize that the cries were very much real, and very much coming from Ellie's room across the hall.

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you scrambled out of bed and across the landing, swinging open the oak door that lead into the teenagers room. You hurried over to her bedside, turning on the table lamp so you could see Ellie fully.

Her body was writhing, her hands clawing at her own skin subconsciously. Her eyes remained closed, she was still asleep. Shit. First things first, let's make sure she doesn't hurt herself. You took her hands in yours, ever so softly, stroking your thumb against her palms reassuringly. You began speaking to her, trying to rouse her from her sleep as she began to fight against you.

"Baby- Ellie, it's just me Babygirl" you said, louder than you usually would. "You gotta wake up for my sweetheart."

After about a minute her eyes opened slowly- however there was a deep-rooted anger in them at first, for a split second she thought that you were him. She went to push you off of her.

"Sweetheart- sweetheart, it's just me Babygirl, it's just me." You comforted. Ellie's eyes softened, her angry screaming turning into words made incoherent by her relentless sobbing. You took a seat next to her on the single bed mattress, allowing Ellie's arms to wrap securely around your waist.

Her chest heaved- breathing quick and unsteadily. "5 things you can see, you know the drill" you told her, hands tangling into the brunette hair that laid in your lap.

"I can see... You, my sketches on the wall, my pencils, the moon out of my window and my comic book." She trembled through shaky breaths.

"Good Girl. Now, four things you can feel?"

"my bed sheets, your t-shirt, your hand in my hair and the socks on my feet." She spoke calmer this time, but the sniffles and occasional sob still left her lips.

"Well done sweetheart, three things you can hear."

"The clock ticking, your breathing, and my sniffles"

"Mhm.. and two things you can smell?"

"Your new soap and the smell of freshly clean laundry"

"And lastly, one thing you can taste"

"My toothpaste" she says, her breathing had now slowed and her sobs turned into the occasional sniffle.

"Well done Ellie, in so proud of you" you hummed, you pecked her forehead lightly- and grinned when you saw the hint of a smile grace her face.

"Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?" She whispered, looking up at you. "Course I can." you replied before shuffling onto the bed in a comfier position.

Ellie's face, still damp from tears buried itself in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around you like her life depended on it.

"Goodnight Ellie".

"Goodnight Mom".

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

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NOT PROOFREAD

[collapsedglasshouses]

PLEASE SHUT UP || Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader [Part One]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @saradika-graphics

PICTURE FOUND ON PINTEREST

REQUEST [by @yumikitten]: I'm just gonna keep on this Ruffilo train if everyone is okay with it. Ahem. What if Y/N and Nicholas got into a fight? Something that really made them snap and started yelling at each other, saying things they weren't really meaning? It could also just be something super silly tbh. We've all been there. 😅 But Nick finally gets suuuuper tired of screaming at each other and just kisses her to shut her up, which then leads to makeup sex. 😉 I could see him spitefully telling her at some point that he's gonna have to remember this if it got her to shut up so quickly. 🤣 Please don't feel obligated. 😁 My mind is just going zoom. 💕

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, I'M DEEPLY SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. I had a severe writers block over the last couple of months and couldn't bring myself to work on requests. As compensation i have decided to make a two-parter out of the request. The setting is a maybe a bit different than expected but I hope you like it anyways! Part Two will hopefully be posted soon! ♡♡♡

WARNINGS: angst, cursing, fear of failure, fighting, small room, ... (let me know if i missed something)

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit (Let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist!)

Ever since Y/n had been a child, she was surrounded by music. Her dad was the guitarist of a local rock band and her mom had been playing the violin since forever.

She remembered clearly how her mother had told her that one of the first things she did as a child was smash hey tiny little hands onto the piano that stood in the family’s living room.

As Y/n grew older, her taste in music also changed. Even though she had been learning to play the piano since the age of just four, she noticed how her taste shifted from soft and classical music to later pop and then heavier stuff.

Maybe it had been some kind of rebellion in her teenage years, maybe it had been her father’s taste in music that influenced her or maybe it was her first ever boyfriend who introduced her to Bring Me The Horizon, when she was just fourteen. All Y/n knew, was that she soon found herself sucked into the world of metal and metal core.

It was no shock to anyone close to her, when she was hired to play the keyboard in a band called Bad Omens.

She had met Noah through mutual friends while gaming during the pandemic and they soon became close friends. The band had been working on their third album back than and though it sounded more than good when Y/n first listened to it, Noah thought something was missing. That was when Y/n came into the picture. She had delivered them some parts that amazed the boys so much that they offered her a place in the band. She had gladly accepted it.

Since than the band had been thriving. From tours all over the world, making Y/n travel to parts of the world she had only imagined as a child, to streaming records that made her dad jump in excitement, every time she visited her hometown. Everything was going well for the band.

For Y/n in particular though, nothing was well. Nothing had been like she hoped it would be. While she had grown close to three of her bandmates, one seemingly hated her guts without explanation.

At first, Nick and she had gotten along quite well. She remembered nights where they sat outside and chatted about the most random things while seemingly not getting enough of each other’s presence.

But over time, things had changed. First, he started to distance himself to the point where it couldn’t be called anything but avoidance. Soon, the complaining began. He began to roll his eyes when she said something that made the others laugh. He started making snarky side comments every time she did something slightly different in her performance. Nothing Y/n did was good enough in Nick’s eyes and hell did it annoy her.

She couldn’t wrap her head around what she did to him to make him act that way towards her, considering she was the only one that suffered under his behavior. With everyone else, he was an angel on earth. Always sweet and caring.

Even though she missed the time where Nick acted like that with her, she began to mirror his demeanor. She began to criticize him just as much as he did with her. She was so fed up that she even started to loathe the time she needed to spend with him in one room.

Saying that was difficult was an understatement. Everyone noticed how they started to act and soon the mood started to deteriorate because of their behavior.

But the breaking point was only yet to come.

The stage was set, the lights were dimmed, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation. The band was about to kick of another concert on their tour and Y/n could feel the familiar hum of excitement and nervous energy that waved through the packed room. This was nothing new for Y/n, yet tonight was different. There was an additional weight pressing on her tense shoulders – the intense gaze of Nick, whose eyes seemed to bore into her from across the stage.

As Y/N's fingers glided over the keys, she couldn't shake the feeling that every note she played was being criticized. She stole a glance in Nick's direction, only to find his expression unreadable, yet filled with an intensity that made her uneasy. The rhythmic thump of the bass only increased her anxiety, and the once effortless connection she felt with the music began to waver.

In the midst of a song, Nick shot her a look so disapproving, Y/N lost it. She stumbled over a chord, the crooked sound echoing through the venue. Panic set in as she struggled to regain her composure. She knew the crowd hadn’t noticed but for her it was a disaster. For the rest of their set, her heart seemingly jumped out of her chest in a mix of fury and anxiety. Nick's disapproving glares persisted, each one a sharp stab at Y/N's confidence. The usually seamless collaboration between band members now felt like pure pain to Y/n. All she did for the rest of the evening was desperately trying to avoid the heavy judgment of Nick’s eyes.

As their performance ended, Y/n felt empty. Heavy tension lingered in the air when they went backstage to compliment each other on another successful concert, but Y/n couldn’t bring herself to feel good. She fucked up bad and only because Nick couldn’t stop with his childish behavior.

After Noah and Jolly comforted her for a second, she came to a stand in front of the bassist. The rest of the guys walked away to calm down, while Y/n’s eyes bore into Nick’s.

Without even thinking, she dragged him into a small room filled with technical stuff.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/n?” Nick protested as she closed the door behind them.

“What the fuck I’m doing? Could you tell me what the fuck your problem is, Nick?” She shouted at him, not holding back one bit.

“I did nothing.” He quickly defended himself and wanted to grab the door handle, but Y/n walked between him and the exit.

“Keep your fucking judgement to yourself next time.” She warned him and looked into his blue eyes. The rage that fumed inside of her quickly caught up to him.

“Maybe don’t fuck up your notes next time.” He hissed at her.

In the dimly lit room, Y/N couldn't hold back her frustration any longer. "Nick, you can't just keep brushing off my opinions about fucking everything!"

Nick's eyes flashed with irritation. "Well, maybe if you understood music better, your opinions would matter."

The words hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Y/N shot back, "You know, not everyone worships your bass lines, dickhead!"

“Oh, come on, are we this low now?” Nick mocked her and tried to get out of the room again.

“I’m not letting you get out of this room until you finally tell me what the fuck I did to you, Nick.” She fumed at him, her back now pressed against the door.

As the argument escalated; Y/n trying to get answers, Nick trying to avoid the talk; both felt a surge of anger and hurt. But suddenly, Nick, became quiet, took a step forward, his eyes meeting Y/N's defiant gaze.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” – “What?”

Before Y/n could react, Nick grabbed her face and, with an unexpected intensity, kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as Y/n noticed what was happening. She was confused but at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to push him off her. Her eyes fluttered shut as another feeling entered her.

Need.

A feeling she had been suppressing since the second he became cold towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he pressed her firmly against the door. It was a kiss full of anger, frustration but also passion as Nick devoured her lips. Soon he travelled down to her neck and even though a small Parton her was still furious about his action, she definitely needed him more than anything in this moment. He bit her exposed skin, not caring a single second about the marks he was leaving on her as she whimpered in pure bliss. When she tugged at Nick’s hair, he softly moaned against her neck, signaling her she wasn’t alone with her thoughts.

Right as his hands started to travel down her shirt, she remembered what was going on and grabbed his wrist.

A stunned silence enveloped them, broken only by Y/n’s words as they looked into each other’s eyes. "You can't just kiss me to end an argument!"

Nick looked at her with wide blown pupils. It looked like he tried to find his words, but nothing came out.

“Oh look at you, now you can’t even talk to me anymore.” Y/n mocked him with hate in her voice, before she pushed him away from her. She left the room with agony.

She hated Nick for making this whole thing even more confusing than it already was. But she knew one thing.

This was never happening again…

PART TWO COMING SOON