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littlemisslipbalm · 2 years

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Bottlerock

Josh Kiszka x Fem!reader

At the Bottlerock Festival in Napa, Josh meets a journalism student who is tenacious enough to get an interview with him after Greta Van Fleet's set. He is enamored by her vivacity and spirit and sweeps her into the whirlwind of his life for the weekend. Are his promises enough to keep them together or are they just too different?

Hey so this is really long so reading on desktop will likely be best (plus there's meant to be a part 2 that I haven't even written yet so...yeah!!!!) So exciting to finally be posting this and sharing it with y'all I really hope yall read it and let me know what you think!

Warnings: some angst, nothing too graphic, maybe self doubt, drinking, weed, SMUT (18+ as always) | Word Count: 21K | Photo credit: Instagram via Pinterest

As the Weight of Dreams guitar solo starts its slow descent, a girl pushes herself sideways along the back of the first row at the barricade. She offers a few “Sorry”’s and “Coming through”’s, just trying to get out.

“I’m so sorry, I just need to get to the side right now.” She makes it past a few other fans, they give her slightly odd looks.

She fibs a bit as she continues her work, “I don’t feel well,” she says when she starts to get push back.

“I might pass out,'' she says when some people give her a rough look.

“I’m really sorry,” she pleads and they let her go.

“Thank you,'' she calls and continues her journey out from the center of the pit.

She had foregone her front and center spot on the barricade for the last five minutes of the Weight of Dreams encore because she needed to get to the side of the backstage. It was her mission to get an interview with one of the members of Greta Van Fleet.

She needed to do this to prove to herself and everyone else that her dream of being a music journalist wasn’t in vain and she wasn’t in way over her head.

If she got the interview and freelanced the piece she wrote from it to her school’s paper or even just the school radio’s paper, she would be so fucking happy. The radio station had turned her down for a dj position so she had turned them down when they asked her to just write content.

They weren’t too happy with her about that, but they couldn’t pass up an exclusive interview with Greta Van Fleet if she offered it to them. It was such a good profile, Greta was higher profile than anyone else the radio had interviewed, and from a student on their campus just going up and getting it? They’d be idiots to pass it up.

While she didn’t want to be an asshole, she was willing to admit she was a pretty great writer. An excellent one. One that was possibly better than any of the writers on the school’s website.

So she shimmied through the crowd as she missed one of the most epic guitar solos she’d ever heard live.

She looked down at her phone once she got out, she heard the guitar starting to fall out, the crowd was going wild and she was trying to catch her breath at the place where she was pretty sure the band would walk off stage. Her phone held the notes she had written down the night before and she was editing them, her fingers a flurry over the little digital keys.

Some of her questions:

How are you? How was that? What’s it like performing at a festival vs. your own concert? What’s your opinion of outdoor venues? How do you like Napa? Planning on going sightseeing? Are you going to be seeing any of the other artists? Or are there any you are excited or hopeful of seeing this weekend? What’s something you wish people cared more about? Do you think you convey that through your music? What’s one thing you’d particularly like to tell college students, like some life advice? Favorite song right now? Or the one that you’ve been listening to the most that you enjoy? What’s something you still want to do – beside movies (if it's Josh)?

She highlighted ones she wanted to ask first since she knew it was very likely she’d probably only get to ask one or two.

Then she hears the screams grow louder and she looks up. The band is leaving the stage and they’re coming straight towards her. Well, they really were going to turn the corner and head back to their tent and bus where they could relax now that their set was done. Or they were going to go somewhere secluded to watch Metallica but she wasn’t sure if that was necessarily their vibe right after a performance.

The real work for her began now. Getting someone’s attention.

Sam gets off first and when she yells his name he simply flashes a smile and waves. She smiles back and tries to say more but he’s already gone. Danny goes next and he doesn’t even hear her say his name as he’s calling out to Sam about something.

Josh and Jake are trouncing off stage talking, rather yelling, into each other’s ears as they take off their ear pieces and sip from water bottles stagehands passed to them.

She feels an overwhelming amount of anxiety that they won’t even glance her way since they’re wrapped up in each other. She yells Josh’s name first for some reason. His eyes look at her for a split second and it seems like he’s just going to wave and smile and go back to talking to Jake but she won’t let it happen.

His eyes are on hers as she continues on with her words.

“Can I talk to you for a second? I’m sure people tell you this all the time, but it’s really important for me! It’ll only take a moment and then I’ll let you go on your way. Please.”

She’s not sure if it’s her words or the desperation in her hoarse voice. Maybe he recognized her from the front row or maybe something was just looking out for her in that moment. Her tarot cards had hinted that today was an auspicious day and she had been hoping for this to be that fulfillment.

Whatever it was, Josh gave her a second glance. He quirks his brow and he’s gleaming with sweat from performing his heart out while being outside in the warming May air. He takes a sip of his water and lets Jake walk in the same direction Sam and Danny went before him with a wave of his free hand and a tilt of his head.

He reaches her with another step and he waves off some of the stage crew asking him if he was alright.

“Hello there. What can I do for you?” He asks, his free hand pulls absently at the v-neck of his golden jumpsuit, it had glitter over its entirety and twinkled in the sun as the green stalks of flowers swirled around various parts of it.

“Hi, oh my god, thank you so fucking much, you have no idea,” she rambles her sentence in a breath and Josh’s brows raise and his lips quirk up in a smile as she speaks, this time not as much as a yell since he’s closer and the screams from the crowd have died down a good bit.

“Right, so,” she starts after gulping down some oxygen, “I’m a journalism student at my college and long story short I wanted to ask you a few questions so that I could write up a short piece on the festival and have some quotes from you because Greta Van Fleet is one of the best artists here. And personally, I love you guys and I really want to do music journalism when I graduate so if you helped me you would make my entire three years in college so far worth it and prove to everyone in my life that I’m not an idiot.”

Josh chuckles at her fast pace and her words. She was radiant, how could he not when to help her. She was a go-getter and he had seen her make her way out of the crowd during Weight of Dreams after she had spent the rest of their set singing along to every song and dancing in the most honest and free way he’d seen someone dance in a festival concert pit – she hand’t had her phone out or anything, just smiling, nodding and singing along. He had wondered absently where she had gone, so seeing her now. It felt fated that she had left just so she could try to talk to one of them. He wanted to help her out.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” He smiles at her and she pushes away the flutter in her heart.

She needed to focus on her job right now. She had strategically taken her edible earlier in the day so it would be waning right about now. Her body was calm, but her mind was lucid. She couldn’t let herself get distracted by the bouncy slightly wet curls atop his head or his perfectly sculpted jaw or any other part of him except his brain that she was going to pick as much as possible.

“Okay,” She beams back at him and glances down at her phone and then holds it between them, “Do you mind if I record this? It’s just a transcriber so you don’t have to look at the top of my head while I write down everything you say. Usually I have to tell people not to worry about it but I feel like you’re probably used to being recorded right? ”

“Of course, that’s fine. I’d much prefer to look in your eyes while I ramble on,” He chuckles and it's effortlessly charming.

She tamps down her smile and glances down at her phone pressing the record button. Her body shuffles to lean on the railing and Josh is tempted to have security let her through, but knows that would be very out of the ordinary since she wasn’t official press and this was only supposed to take a moment.

She switches to her questions on her phone and then glances up to look in Josh’s face again to give him a reassuring smile, she wanted to impress him as much as she wanted to impress everyone else. She didn’t want him to be bored with her questions.

“First things first, how are you doing after that?”

“I feel fantastic! We had a big old time up there,” He grins as she nods him on, “It was a wonderful show, great to celebrate with everyone here on such a beautiful day. See the smiles on all of their faces – yours included.”

Her eyes widen slightly and she looks at him inquisitively, but decides it’s not important to the story.

“What’s the most overwhelming emotion you have when you’re up on stage?” She continues, not a question she had written down, but for some reason it came to mind as he said how he felt.

“Overwhelming?” Josh repeats, the question actually made him think. She counted this as a success.

“Suppose love is the answer,” He starts and she deflates initially, but he continues, “Love’s a special one because it’s a shared experience of any positive emotion with someone you care about. Love is overwhelming up on the stage because it’s coming at you from everywhere. My brothers and Danny and I are all sharing the love and the audience is joining in on that love. Love for the music. Love for each other. It’s overwhelming…but only in the most welcome sense.”

She grins, “Well said.”

He nods back.

“What’s it like performing at a festival versus one of your own concerts?”

He responds well and she grins again. His answers are professional yet insightful to a lot of her main questions she wanted to ask. He seems to like the ones she asks as follow-ups to his responses that are just off the top of her head. His hands wave around dramatically when he gets into specific anecdotes that fit into his answers.

He tells her who he wants to see this weekend and then asks her who else she wants to see. She has to confess that she only bought a ticket for Friday because the three-day one was too expensive for her. He nods in understanding, but quirks his brow when she says she would have liked to do all three days. Josh was so tempted to just give her some VIP tickets that he was sure he could drum up. The minutes tick by and he doesn’t complain that she’s held him up far longer than she’d initially said.

She asks him what he thinks of Napa and if he’s planning on doing some sightseeing when they’re done at the festival. He looks down at her phone and then back up to her, he had almost forgotten that this was just an interview. He loved answering her questions and if he had been just talking to her, he would have invited her to show him around in a flirtatious manner, but remembered it was being recorded and she was asking as an interviewer. Instead, he gives a noncommittal “Hopefully, but we’ll see how much time we have before we head back to Nashville. We’re prepping for our Europe tour dates soon.”

“Oh yeah,” She nods along, slightly disappointed at his answer, seeing some idea pass through his face and then be removed before settling on his answer. She decides not to mention she’d be in Ireland when they were and she had gotten tickets. Didn’t want to seem like an overzealous fan at this point, everything had been going so well.

She goes through a few more questions and she’s surprised Josh has let her ask as many as he had. It had only been about ten minutes, but she could only imagine how much he probably wants to change and possibly shower (hopefully). She asks about his current listening and he goes in depth on one particular album that has caught his fancy. She makes a note to make sure she listens to it in detail when she gets the chance.

He shares what he wishes more people knew about Greta Van Fleet’s music and how they try to communicate that message at her prompt and he’s in love with that question but refrains from going on too long of a tangent for once, she is unsure of what keeps him from doing it.

“Alright,” She takes a deep breath, glancing around seeing some people looking on, possibly slightly jealous at all the attention she’d received from Josh for the last fifteen minutes. “Final-ish question.”

“What makes it final-ish?” He laughs.

“Well, if you say something interesting I might have a follow up question.”

“So I should be offended if it’s the last question?”

“No, then I think you’ve answered it sufficiently.”

“Oh, so I should be offended if it isn’t the last question?” He teases with a smirk quirking his lips to the side.

She rolls her eyes playfully and almost feels heat rising to her cheeks at the careless flirtation laced in his words. He was extremely proficient at that.

“No, you shouldn’t be offended at all. You should be flattered.”

“Alright, flatter me,” He winks. Again, it’s all playful, but she can barely handle his personality. It was overwhelming. Josh was overwhelming.

“What’s the best life advice you can give to a bunch of college kids right now? Can be something you’ve received or something you’ve come up with over the years.”

He grins, “Don’t try to please everyone. Work on pleasing yourself. Personal pleasure will make life all the sweeter.”

She feels her eyes widen as Josh stares into her soul and she’s not sure if he meant his advice to sound so astoundingly sexual, but she looks away from his intense gaze nonetheless.

“And how would you advise someone who is trying to find their personal pleasure?”

“Well,” He chuckles, and she can tell he’s got something raunchy to say, but it’s only in the most boyish way that she doesn’t hate it how she might on another man. “There’s two paths that one can go down and I don’t know if you want me to venture down one of them. It might not be very appropriate for a school paper.”

“It’s a college paper. Everyone’s an adult,” She laughs lightly trying to get good quotes, but also be casual.

“Alright then, I’ll tell both, just in case you want to keep the second to yourself,” He leans in and speaks lower at the end of that and she gives him a coy smile. She couldn’t believe what a player Josh seemed to be when most times he came off as so sexless, if she was giving her honest opinion.

“Personal pleasure in life,” Josh starts, “I’d advise that you try new things and if you think you want to try something you should stick to it, even if it seems a little hard in the beginning. Don’t get deterred, there is happiness found in the act of trying.” He says it earnestly and she genuinely thinks he’s thought about this before. “And for the raunchier side of personal pleasure, well, I’d advise being more vocal with others and yourself; about what feels good and simply just letting those seemingly animalistic noises that want to come out, come out. Don’t hide how your body really feels when you’re experiencing pleasure.”

“Right,” She clears her throat as Josh ducks his head for a moment and looks up at her through his lashes. “Well, that’s all I’ve got for you, Josh. Thank you so much for taking the time, I know I kept you longer than I said, but you had wonderful answers. It was hard not to keep asking you things.”

He laughs and it’s as melodious as his voice always seems to be. He rests a hand over hers on the railing and her eyes flicker to look at it and then back to his face.

“It’s only because you were such a wonderful interviewer, kept me on my toes,” He says it sincerely. He pats her hand twice and looks as if he wants to say more.

He glances over his shoulder and sees his bandmates all hanging around with some of the crew and the people they had invited to the festival with them. He turns back to her and her eyes are wide and expectant, not sure what to do since his hand is still over hers.

“I’ll let you go,” She starts.

“Would you like to ask my brothers and Danny some questions perchance?”

She gasps and says the first thing she thinks, “Of fucking course I would!” Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, knocking Josh’s hand off of hers and her phone to the grass below them. A muffled “Oh my god” is audible from her covered mouth. Her eyes fall to the ground where her phone went. “So sorry,” She bends down to grab it and when she stands up Josh is still grinning at her.

“You know you don’t need to apologize for swearing in front of me right?” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

“No, I know…it’s just not very professional, y’know. And also it was more about the entire outburst than the nature of it.” She quirks her head at him, hoping he understands.

He shakes his head in amusement and gestures to the security, who had been eyeing them this entire time, to let her through. Her eyes are still as wide as saucers and she’s not sure if she’s breathing normally so she focuses on that and then remembers she should text her friend, who was surely worrying about her now.

She looks down at her phone and sees that it’s still recording so she stops that and thinks about how embarrassing that this last part after the interview was memorialized in her transcription app. She pushes that from her mind and types out a message to her friend saying, “getting taken backstage to interview gvf, wtf.”

Chloe immediately responds, “bruh wtf!!!!”

Her fingers flurry over the keyboard and say “i’ll try to get you in, but if i don’t text you back just watch metallica without me, i’m so fuckig sorry bro, but i couldn’t pass up the chance to interview all of them.”

“no i get it, get us the afterparty invite doe”

She hearts the last message and then turns to Josh, who’s eyes flicker to hers as she slips her phone into her back pocket of the black loose jeans she was wearing.

“Who was that?” He inquires, the interest clear in inflection of his words.

“My best friend who came with me. I was updating her on where I am. There’s not a chance she could possibly come back here as well?”

He looks at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he seems to consider it. She presses on, her penchant for rambling becoming clear.

“It’s just that I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her, but I also get it if you don’t want a bunch of people in your space either. Like you’ve already done me way too many favors for being a complete stranger. I probably owe you big time at this point.”

He shakes his head insistently and his curls bounce around him. “No, no, no. You don’t owe me anything, please do not think of this as transactional. I offered for you to interview the others because I think you’re a good journalist and I wanna see you succeed now…” His eyes are wide and earnest, once more.

She really hadn’t expected this to be the way Josh was. From interviews and anything she’d seen from him previously, she thought he was both boisterous and thoughtful, kind as well, but not so intrinsically good and sincere to a stranger – she didn’t think it was possible for someone of his caliber, as much as she liked the band, realistically, she had no idea who Josh really was. She assumed he’d be much more closed off when he wasn’t performing – both on stage and in interviews. Maybe he still was performing for her.

“Tell your friend to come to the side of the stage and I’ll tell a PA to let her in.”

She beams and thanks him with a string of gratitude and he laughs again.

“You talk so quickly, you know that?” Josh asks.

She couldn't help the embarrassment this time, he had met her maybe twenty minutes ago and he already formed an opinion of her. Instead of acting flustered though, she tries to mask it with a little flirtation. The banter seemed to come naturally with Josh.

“So do you,” She states matter-of-factly.

He cackles this time, louder than his other laughs had been so far with her.

“I guess it’s a good trait for a journalist.”

“And a front man,” She adds.

“Depends on who you ask,” He says as they round on the rest of the band sitting around the front of a tour bus after they had taken a brief detour and given the information about her friend to a PA.

“Depends on who you ask what?” His twin and the guitarist of the band, Jake, asks, looking up to Josh from the lawn chair he was resting in, his neck craning in a long fashion. A smile resting on his lips as he hopes to be able to tease his brother who had been missing from him for too long.

Before Josh can answer, Sam, his younger brother and the bassist, pokes his head out of the door of the tour bus and yells at Josh. “There you are! We were beginning to think you’d run off with some groupie already…” His voice trails off when he sees a girl standing beside Josh. “And maybe we were a bit correct.”

Josh scoffs and she wards off any embarrassment by offering a cautious smile, she scuffs the tip of her boot into the soft ground below them.

“This is…” Then Josh stops and he realizes that he hadn’t even gotten her name and he looks to her sheepishly. A hand goes to the back of his neck, the tinge of embarrassment manifesting in his physicality.

“Y/N. I’m a journalism student, not a groupie,” She clarifies, and waves her hand at the other three band members who had given her various onceovers.

Sam hops down the last step of the tour bus and joins the group of them. Danny and Jake remained seated. All together like this they were far more intimidating and she looked back to Josh, who was still beside her, for reassurance.

“Y/N asked me a few questions right after the show for a piece she’s doing on the festival and she was such a fantastic interviewer I told her you all would love to answer some questions as well,” Josh grins pointedly at the rest of the boys, imploring them to go along with it with his eyes. She notices how he made a point to say her name once he knew it.

“Oh yeah,” Jake muses, his voice was so gravelly and unique yet so similar to Josh’s. “You’re the one he went to talk to when we came down from the stage.”

“Yep,” She smiles, trying to not come off as nervous. Maybe she’d shoot Chloe a text advising her not to come. She wasn’t sure how intimidating her friend might find this situation.

They were all cheekbones and sharp lines, strong jawbones and sun-kissed skin, beautiful but wild hair. And they were so at ease, so zen, even after a show, she was in awe.

“Are y’all always this calm thirty minutes after a performance?” She can’t help but ask.

“Is that the first question?” Sam asks.

Josh shoots him a look.

“Um,” She begins.

“We are if we smoke a lot of weed,” Jake answers instead with a slight chuckle, “Which is indeed what we’ve done.”

“Indeed,” Sam echoes.

She looks closer and sees the droopy red eyes on each of them, the tension in all of their muscles almost nonexistent. That made more sense, it also made her way less intimidated. They weren’t being jerks, they were just being highasses.

“I don’t need to interview y’all if you’re high,” She says after a moment of thinking. “I feel like that wouldn’t be ethically right, especially since it was just sprung on you. Like if you chose to show up to an interview high that’s another story, but me interviewing you out of the blue when you’re already high…doesn’t sit right with me.” She splays her hands as she talks and then looks to Josh’s face as she finishes. He smiles reassuringly at her, the quirk in his soft lips quickly becoming something she felt dependent on.

“What if you were high? Then would you interview us while we’re high?” Sam inquires, suddenly intrigued by her, deeming her to not be a groupie that Josh was just fronting as a journalist.

She laughs at this and his mischievous tone. Her mind raced with thoughts. Smoking with Greta Van Fleet? Could she pass that up? She could claim it was immersive journalism if anyone called bullshit. Plenty of music journalists had smoked weed with rockstars before, at this point it should be a right of passage.

“Are you saying you want to smoke me out and then get interviewed by me?”

“If that’s what you want,” Sam smiles.

Josh narrows his eyes at his little brother, but drops his expression when he feels her eyes go to his face. She looks to him for affirmation and it tugs at something inside him. They barely knew each other but she seemed to trust him. It made him feel good about himself.

When Josh smiles positively, she nods, a grin now breaking onto her face, “Fuck yeah, let’s do this.”

Sam disappears back into the tour bus and she pulls out her phone to text Chloe while Josh changes quickly and finds two more lawn chairs. He had told Sam to fuck off and find a chair of his own before he had gone into the bus for the weed supplies. Sam had rolled his eyes at his older brother, but agreed to it anyway.

“Getting smoked out by gvf and then interviewing them i think…”

Chloe’s text pops in immediately: “no fuckin way”

Then another: “brooooo”

Another: “im gonna go get a drink and watch metallica i think bc one of them is literally gonna try to fuck you and i dont want to cock block, but text me updates PLS and be careful!!!”

Y/N smiles down at her phone and shakes her head before typing out a response after hearting Chloe’s last message: “one can only hope, if not tho, free weed and a fucking crazy interview, the paper is going to shit their pants…might need to leave the getting high asf with them out tho ;)”

Chloe: “tell me if one or more of them calls it fucking grass, i’ll die”

Y/N: “Midwesterners …”

Josh returns to her side after placing down the two lawn chairs in front of them in a semi-circle.

“Your friend?”

She hums, “Yeah she actually said she really wants to see Metallica’s set, so she won’t be joining us.”

“Is that alright?” Josh asks seriously, leaning his head down to ask her more quietly.

She quickly pushs away the butterflies that just fluttered inside of her when his breath hit the shell of her ear.

“Yeah, of course. Should it not be?”

“I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Like you don’t have to smoke weed with us if you don’t want to, Sam’s just pushy sometimes and likes to get his way, youngest child syndrome and all… Do you even smoke?” Josh almost whispers the final question in complete seriousness.

She cackles at this, but stifles it almost just as quickly as the laughter came out. “I’m sorry, I just haven’t been asked that in awhile. I was high off an edible for the majority of your set, I timed it so that I would be sober to hopefully interview one of you when I spoke with you.”

Josh pinkens at her words, the memory of her dancing in the crowd once again flashing in his mind. No wonder she’d looked so happy. “Oh, well then. Let’s smoke some grass, huh?”

She laughs and watches him sit down and pat the seat beside him. Jake and Danny also watch on as she smiles sweetly towards Josh and he reciprocates it.

They eye each other and it’s like they know exactly what is going on. Normally, Josh didn’t create such an elaborate ruse to get what he wanted, but it certainly seemed like the route he was taking would get to the same end result: hooking up with a hot girl after the show. What they didn’t know or couldn’t possibly realize was just how special this hot girl was already becoming to Josh.

“So,” Sam sits down on a different type of chair that he must have found inside the bus between Danny and Jake, “What made you want to go to school for journalism?”

She debates on saying she didn’t come here to answer questions, she’s supposed to be the one asking them, but she refrained, seeing the genuine curiosity in most of their eyes. She needed to go with the flow. Something she was trying to be better at.

“I didn’t initially start out as a journalism major. I was English first and found it boring as fuck. I just knew I wanted to be a writer.”

Jake nods along to her answer and Josh watches her intently while she glances around at all of them. Sam produces a few joints and places one between his lips, breathing in and flicking a lighter to the end of it. He puffs at it for a long moment, then slips it between his slender fingers again and pulls it from his lips, the smoke billowing out past his lips.

He passes to his left, Jake, and she notes it, finding the way someone smokes in a group extremely telling. By passing it to Jake, she was going to get the joint faster than if Sam had passed it to Danny, whether that was on purpose, she couldn’t be too sure.

“And you want to do music journalism?” Sam asks as Jake leans back into his seat.

She nods, feeling shaky under his entirely too intense droopy eyes. Jake takes only a little puff of the joint and passes it to her. She’s careful to avoid his finger tips, but it doesn’t seem like he cares much as he lazily holds it out to her.

She felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on hers and she tried to picture her face as she put the joint between her lips. She never felt attractive when she was smoking from a joint just because her lips seemed to disappear and she was concentrating on not coughing up the smoke in its entirety.

Strategically, she crosses her legs as she brings it to her lips, hoping that might draw some attention from her face. Her baggy black jeans probably weren’t that visually appealing to them compared to if she had worn shorts or a skirt. She cursed herself, but maintained that these pants were lucky despite how unsexy they might be. She often wore them when she got impromptu interviews so in her heart she had known she needed to wear them rather than one of her cuter short skirts or sheer tights and shorts that she had originally been thinking of wearing.

Her maroon booted foot swings slightly as she splays her entire hand over the lower half of her face. Her second line of defense, the rings on her hand and her black painted nails would be more interesting than her face.

She pulls away and glances to Josh before blowing the smoke behind her, not wanting to be rude. He’s been watching the entirety of her movements. The way she shifted in her seat and closed her eyes slightly as she took the hit. The glitter over her eyelids and white eyeliner she had under her eyes was all he could focus on now. It hadn’t distracted him when she had stood across from him at the gate, but now it was transfixing as her eyelashes fluttered and she looked at him not closer than before, but without a physical barrier between them.

She leans forward to pass it to Josh, once again mindful of fingers touching, but he grins when they still brush since the joint had dwindled. He takes a couple hits and they go around from there with the first joint once more and then start on a second one.

Sam continues to grill her with questions, but as the time goes on her laugh gets lighter and more intermingled with her responses. Her eyes droop to meet their level, the whites of her eyes don’t turn as red as theirs though. They never did that anymore which she thought was a blessing.

“And why did you want to interview the Greta Van Fleet?” Sam finally asks and at this point she would admit that she was fully stoned from their weed – oftentimes she was dubious of out of state weed, but this worked plenty.

“Because,” She laughs to herself and wants to tell them just how big of a fan she was, but still maintains some self control, “you’re the best band Bottlerock got and…the college girlies love y’all.”

“Is that so?” Sam laughs, throwing his head back and his once more long hair with it.

“Yes,” She insists, her eyes go to the other band members and see Danny is watching Sam, Jake is looking off into the open space, and Josh is still looking at her. She stares in his eyes, no longer inhibited by anxiety, “the spin on the classic rock sound, the meaningful lyrics, the cool outfits, the sex appeal. What more could a girl want out of a band, except maybe some more interesting names, but the band name makes up for it, I think.”

Sam’s laugh is loud, similar to Josh’s yet on a slightly higher register. Jake manages a “Hey” at her dig about their basic names.

“Is that all you want out of a band?” Sam prods.

“Maybe it’s time for Y/N to start asking the questions?” Josh interrupts.

She nods, feeling extremely stoned, she tries to ground herself, she takes a deep breath and it cools her screaming lungs. Josh had given her a water bottle when she’d asked for one, but it didn’t stop the dry paper feel of her mouth or the ache in the back of her throat no matter how much of the liquid she gulped down.

“I agree,” She states and looks down at her phone, the questions in her notes app swirling in loopy waves now before her eyes in just the slightest way. “What’s the most overwhelming emotion you feel up on stage?”

The same question she had asked Josh earlier was still floating around in her mind. She wanted to see if they had different answers.

Jake hums eagerly, clearly interested in the question as he adjusts his seated position and strokes a finger around his lips. “Suppose ‘sublime' would just about sum it up?”

Her eyebrows raise and she suppresses the laugh that threatens at her lips. She was both enamored by the response and grossed out. If any man outside of Greta Van Fleet had said that to her she likely would have rolled her eyes, but coming from his lips she was like ‘damn, that’s fucking insightful,’ especially since she was high.

“Electrified,” Sam tries to say coolly, the word just sounds muddled around his mouth.

She snickers, “I don’t know if that is exactly an emotion, but I’ll take it.

“Happiness,” Danny responds easily and she returns a nice smile, she’s having a hard time thinking of what’s coming next right now. Maybe there was no need to worry about it.

The next question comes out before she means it to. Well, she didn’t mean for it to come out at all. It wasn’t written on her notes app, it just popped into her head. Insidiously.

“Are you ever jealous of one another?”

Everyone is silent for a beat too long, but she doesn’t notice it. Everything was foggy with weed.

“What would we be jealous of with one another?” Jake asks slowly, like he’s not sure if he heard the question correctly.

“I don’t know, you tell me. The answer can just be no, but…it doesn’t seem like it is.”

“Was she asking these hard of questions before?” Sam asks Josh.

Josh laughs lightheartedly, sufficiently high, “Nah, but she keeps you on your toes, huh?” He doesn’t see the harm in the question because he trusts Y/N. It was clear to him that she wouldn’t use this question in her piece and it was more something that had piqued her interest. Hell, she wasn’t even recording this anymore, her transcription app was closed and forgotten about in the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’d say I get a little miffed when some people leave me out of the band just because I’m not a biological brother, but the boys have never made me feel that way. It’s other people,” Danny lets out.

She nods solemnly at him.

Sam pipes up after a hum of contemplation, “I’ll always be the younger brother in people’s eyes. Deference always goes to Jake or Josh which can be…annoying, but like Daniel said, it’s not them, it’s other people.”

She nods. Jake and Josh share a look.

“Oh come on, you two are identical twins, I feel like all I usually hear from them is complaining about their other half.”

Sam laughs, “I could certainly share my thoughts.”

“No, no, no. That’s not how this works. It’s about self reflection,” She splays her hands in front of her in a slow manner as she says ‘self reflection’.

“Okay, okay.” Sam holds up his hands in defense and she smiles back.

She looks to Josh who is now worrying his bottom lip. When she turns to Jake, he’s tugging at his lip with his fingers. She feels a little bad, but it was just so fun making confident men get a little shaken.

“Um, maybe how Josh can grow facial hair, pretty jealous of that. You’d think I could too, but it’s even patchier.” Jake conjures up his response.

Josh laughs out a relieved laugh that gives away more than he possibly wanted it to and then breathes out his response before he loses his nerve, “Jake’s ability to be in a stable long distance relationship.”

Jake arches a brow at Josh and she can tell that even if he was high now, Jake was going to follow up with his brother later to unpack what he had just said. She didn’t feel comfortable doing that since she barely knew them and the response had sent an uncomfortable bolt of anxiety through her, throwing off the high, but she was determined to keep ahold of it.

“What’s one thing you wish people cared more about?”

“How do you work that into your music?”

“Can you describe the sensation of playing your instrument?”

She runs through the different questions and gets better and better answers as she sticks to the less controversial ones. Sam waxes eloquent about playing bass with his feet, while Danny shares how drumming feels all encompassing, Jake tries to explain how he both disappears and is everywhere at once when he plays his solos, Josh talks about feeling connected to every living thing when he sings.

She almost wants to cry as they describe it because she’s never felt those things before and likely never could. She was never one to stick with things that were hard, instruments were hard for her. Her hands are too small and weak to reach the different notes whether on the guitar or piano. Her voice never good enough and her mind not creative enough to set her poetry to song.

They finish up the questions and Jake decides he does want to see Metallica play the second half of their set, Danny says he’ll go too. After a moment of hesitation, Sam stands to leave too, sending a wink her way and a pointed look at Josh. Josh asks her if she wants to go with them.

Her head lulls onto her shoulder as she stares at Josh. Her eyes move lazily over the outline of his entire body, sweeping over details she never would have noticed in a picture or from her position below the stage earlier. His profile is illuminated as the sun starts to set and his skin is cast in gold. She smiles to herself and her eyelashes flutter once more as she savors the dying light and warmth as it recedes from the sky.

She felt so happy with herself, she had gotten more than she had hoped for, the interview and now Josh seemed like he wanted to hang out with her rather than kick her to the curb. And while, ethically, it might be wrong to be doing whatever this was with Josh as a subject, she was still a student, afterall, fuck ups were bound to happen and as long as no one found out it would be fine.

“No,” She mumbles finally, eyes still closed, “I’m content being here.”

He nods even though she can’t see it. When she reopens her eyes, she still can’t take them off of Josh. She wanted to laugh at how unreal this situation felt, but it might just be because of how fuzzy the weed had made her feel.

He looks at her after a moment of feeling her gaze on him.

“Thank you,” She speaks out softly when it seems like he’s going to ask her what she was thinking. The buzz of people around them was filtered out of earshot, making it seem like everyone else was very far away and they were completely alone.

“You did this all by yourself. You’re incredible.”

“I never could have done it if you hadn’t been nice enough to walk over. You could have just ignored me or said you were too busy.”

“Yeah but you didn’t really give me a choice with your speech and all.”

“And all what?”

“All of you.” His hand comes out and waves in a down movement, gesturing at her figure, “Your look, your determination. I saw you slip through the crowd during Weight of Dreams. I had been curious as to where you had gone since you seemed to be enjoying the set so much. Seeing you call me over afterwards piqued my interest. I had to know what was up.”

“Well I told you what was up, you still could have left after I explained myself,” She pushed, their eyes planting on each other’s as she ignored his vague compliment of her figure and personality.

“Yeah but I like you.”

“Yeah?” She grins, leaning forward on her knees, closer to Josh as she knocks them slightly in hops of brushing them against his. He nudges out his knee closest to hers so that they can touch. “I like you too.”

Josh only hums in response. She waits for him to speak, the giddy excitement overtaking her relaxed body.

“I don’t want you to think I do this all the time…” Josh starts, worrying his lower lip, “Sam made it out to sound like I’m always fucking groupies, but that’s not true. And even if it were, I really wouldn’t consider this to be similar. I like your mind.”

She laughs. “You like my mind,” She repeats.

Josh pinkens around his ears and over his cheeks, he looks especially boyish despite his facial hair and strong features.

“I just meant…”

“No, I know. I like your…mind, too. It just sounds so cheesy.” She laughs again and Josh rubs at the back of his neck and sighs like he’s trying to find the right thing to say.

“What if we just forget about the whole ‘we’ve only just met’ thing and ‘you’re in a famous band that I just interviewed’ thing and like every other part of this situation? Just focus on each other.” She continues.

“I think I can do that,” Josh nods, slips a hand to her neck and pulls her face closer to his.

She sighs at his warm touch and leans closer. His nose brushes against hers and it nudges at her cheek. Her eyes fall down to look at his pink lips, so close to touching hers. And she takes her own advice and forgets about literally everything else besides how Josh feels against her.

She lets herself get lost in his kiss, it’s warm and soft and a little bitter from the taste of smple and a beer on his tongue. It shouldn’t taste good, but she hopes to remember it for the rest of her life even though it’s happening as she thinks it.

She often felt that sensation, remembering an event just as it was unfolding in real time. She looked forward to a time where she would be looking back on this and it made her try to store every single part of it to memory.

Josh presses his mouth harder against hers and she sighs at how good it feels, at the fire of desire starting to kindle faster inside of her. Her hand falls down to rest on his knee that is facing hers and it grips him tightly, fearful of him pulling away and losing the sensation of his soft lips. His nimble fingers had snaked up her shoulder to the base of her neck and they splayed along the entirety of it in a dominant but careful way. He was holding her there, but it was clear that she could pull away at any time.

She pushed into him for more, her mouth opening for him as he licked into her and they went back and forth in the kiss, staying connected while their hands moved around and explored each other’s bodies with a passionate care.

Josh pulls back first and she’s grateful for the reprieve, not realizing just how much she needed air. She thinks about how he’s a singer and has a crazy lung capacity, he must have pulled back out of courtesy for her, which was endearing.

He looks at her shyly and she wants to laugh at how vulnerable he seems for just making out with her in public after knowing her for only a couple of hours.

“I really want…” Josh takes a deep breath, but as she noticed, he wasn’t out of breath in the first place.

Her cheeks are flushed as he speaks and the hopeful look in her eyes communicates that she wants him just as much as he wants her.

“I would really like,” Josh corrects, “If you’d show me around Napa tomorrow.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth immediately opens to protest, but sees the softness in every bit of Josh’s features. She wasn’t planning on staying in Napa, she was going to spend the rest of her weekend in her hometown before heading back to school. Her hometown was about an hour and a half away and then her school was four hours from there.

“I wasn’t planning on sticking around since I don’t have tickets for the other days,” She starts.

“I can get you and your friend tickets for Saturday and Sunday, if you want,” Josh supplies.

“I’m not even from Napa, I don’t even know all that much about it,” She continues.

“Then we could explore it together,” Josh tries, his eyes a hopeful warm honey brown. “C’mon, this is me trying to see you again.”

“Josh,” She sighs at his conviction to make it work even in just this tiny thing, but she knew it would only hurt her more to continue hanging out with him if his interest in her was more than just a hookup. “One or two more days won’t make me hurt less when I never see you again… like this.”

Josh sighs, but there’s a smile on his face. He takes one of her hands in his and rubs his thumb over it gently.

“What if you looked at this situation where only the best case scenarios happen? You say yes to hanging out for the next few days. We listen to good music and drink good wine because, y’know, Napa is known for that stuff,” Josh begins a speech and she rolls her eyes playfully at him sharing such a widely known fact. “And then we part ways, but we have endless memories together and since only good things happen, we’re bound to see each other again. And we go on from there.”

She giggles at his smile that bids her to say yes to him. Her head shakes a bit, trying to ward off the silliness she feels, the silliness of reality, but she wants to try this untethered optimism Josh is asking her to buy into.

“Okay,” She relents with another nervous laugh.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I going to do?!”

Chloe sighs with a roll of her eyes. “You’re going to shower, get dressed and then go out with the frontman of Greta Van Fleet. Dazzle him with your brilliance and make out with him again – or maybe more, that part is up to you.”

“No,” Y/N trails out the word, her hands covering her face. “I can’t do this. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“No, you’re not,” Chloe reassures. “Just stop thinking about it so hard. He asked you out. He convinced you to stay. He’s orchestrating all of this – he clearly wants you, so stop worrying.”

“Okay.”

She found herself saying okay to things that didn’t feel okay at all. Yes, she wanted to hang out with Josh again and do whatever that entailed, but she was scared. He was a famous musician and, like, this force to be reckoned with and she was just a 21-year-old college student who barely knew what she was going to do with her life. Sure, she had this tentative plan, but it moreso was a line she repeated when people asked, she wasn’t exactly sure if it was what she truly wanted. Josh had his life figured out at 26 and he was talented, successful, sure of himself and just all around wonderful. How was she supposed to measure up to his standards?

Yesterday, she had been cool, but looking back on it she was convinced she was still a little high when interviewing him. Plus! This was different, this was like a date or something, whereas yesterday had been her proving a point, had been her going after a goal and achieving it. It wasn’t meant to be intimate – and sure, she had made out with him, but in her defense she was high and he’s hot.

With all that in mind, she and Chloe got dressed for the day. Luckily, both of them were overpackers and had about three days worth of clothing with them. This was both a good and very very bad thing for Y/N. She was able to wear something else but she also was able to overthink her outfit about ten times based on the different combinations she could come up with.

Eventually, she settled on the same slouchy black jeans as yesterday and a black halter vest that she thought was both impossibly cool and flattering. Her boobs looked especially good in it so that reassured her. Instead of her boots, she put on her mary jane Doc Martens and hoped they didn’t give her too much height next to Josh. She felt like the outfit wasn’t very Josh. It almost was more of Jake’s vibe or possibly Sam’s. Did she look too young? Would Josh not like it? Would he like that she hadn’t dressed to please him in the idea that it wasn’t light, bright, floral or anything remotely happy – things she assumed he liked when it came to clothes? She didn’t even really know him, fuck, did he like that on his partners? The irony wasn’t lost on her that by asking these questions she was negating the point that she hadn’t dressed with him in mind.

As she walked to the patch of grass next to a specific wine booth Josh had said to meet at, these questions, worries and thoughts raced through her mind. When the booth was in sight and Josh’s curly hair was conspicuously bobbing beside it as he spoke with one of his brothers, she fought the urge to turn back and run – just to change her outfit. Did Josh want a frilly, lacey, flowy girl? She could do that. She liked that vibe too, but this had been what she settled on and now that she saw him in his white shirt and khakis, she was mad at herself for her choice. They were going to look like complete opposites.

Chloe noticed her slowing down. “Keep it moving, girl,” She insisted.

Y/N reluctantly kept moving towards them. She was more nervous now than she was yesterday. Admittedly, yesterday she had nothing to lose. Today, Josh knew who she was, he had expectations of her and what if she didn’t fulfill them…

Josh calls her name after spotting her and before she can run away and hide. His face is bright and shiny as the sun washes over his tanned skin and beaming grin. It’s almost like his eyes twinkle with the sun sparkling off of his irises. She smiles back, timidly. In her head, she was telling herself to just act normal, but it had short circuited and she had no idea what normal was anymore.

“Josh,” She greets and tries to suppress the wince that follows because she immediately feels lame for just saying his name back.

“How are you today, ms. journalist extraordinaire?” Josh expounds before pulling her into a friendly hug that lingers to the right of friendly in the end.

“Good,” She mumbles back into the collar of his shirt where her head was resting as he held her there, her body felt limp and clammy in his arms and she hoped he didn’t notice it. Once again her eyes slip shut in annoyance at her words. Why not anything more than just ‘good’.

Her hands wrap at Josh’s waist since his arms had gone around her shoulders. Her hands rest at his lower back for a moment as warmth rises off of him while waves of chamomile, clean linen, nag champa and a little bit of weed invade her nose. Of course he smelled amazing and she was wearing a mix of an expensive perfume she had received as a high school graduation gift and a men’s cologne she had stolen from a guy’s apartment one time because she was drunk and thought it was funny and then ended up really liking the scent. Would Josh like a manly scent on her?

Her eyes slip shut at the warm and soft sensations of Josh’s presence, but she’s pulled away from him by reality. She steps back from him upon realizing she needed to introduce her friend to him and Sam, who gave her a small smile and a casual nonchalant wave of his hand.

“This is my friend and roommate, Chloe. Chloe, this is Josh and Sam – as you know,” She feels herself grimace at her words. Why did everything that came out of her mouth sound wrong to her? Of course Chloe knew who the guys were, she was just about as in love with them as Y/N was.

Chloe laughs and says hello. Josh smiles sweetly at her and Sam nods his head and says hello back.

“Nice to meet you, Chloe,” Josh starts, charming as ever. “Did you enjoy Metallica’s set last night?”

Chloe responds affirmatively and casts a glance at Y/N, communicating her knowledge of what she and Josh did instead of going to the Metallica set. Josh doesn’t pick up on it and asks another question instead.

“What’s it like having a journalist as a roommate? Does she ask a lot of questions?”

“Besides when she’s trying to pick an outfit, not really,” Chloe laughs, once again shooting Y/N a look.

Josh catches this one and looks over her outfit once more. “I think the outcome is lovely,” He smiles, reassuringly. “You look fantastic,” He rephrased to Y/N, in case his meaning wasn’t clear.

She smiles in an uncharacteristically shy way, a laugh sounding from her closed lips as her eyes flicker between her friend and Josh. “Thanks,” she mumbles.

There’s an awkward beat of silence – or maybe just a breath that she interprets as awkward, that she longs to fill.

“Who did you want to see today?” She asks Josh, unable to let the silence go any longer.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” He smiles.

Chloe chimes in, getting bored of being a third wheel to them, “I’m going to go over to the twenty one pilots stage and hope by the time it’s their set I can be closer to the front.”

“Oh,” Sam’s eyebrows perk up in interest, “I can just get us to the front of their stage if you want. I wanted to see them perform as well.”

She regards Chloe and Sam’s exchange before turning to look at Josh who has a perplexed expression pass over his face for a moment and then lets it pass.

Sure enough, Chloe is happily agreeing to the idea before Y/N can try and protest. She had been hoping to keep some safety of having other people around, so she didn’t have to be alone with Josh. If she wasn’t alone, there was less chances of it being her fault if things didn’t work out.

“I’m not super into twenty one pilots,” She says once Chloe and Sam are out of earshot.

Josh quips, “Neither is Sam, but he must like your friend. But not to worry, I’m sure he’ll be a gentleman.”

She rolls her eyes and gives a quick ‘sure’, but she wasn’t too worried about Chloe going off with Sam – he was her favorite, after all.

Josh circles back to their original discussion, reiterating her original question of who they wanted to see perform today. She notes his change in the question, who do ‘we’ want to see.

She hums, “Well, I glanced over the lineup for today and I think the Black Crowes and Greensky Bluegrass would be cool to see. Also Rainbow Kitten Surprise.”

“I was thinking the same exact thing,” He nods with a smile gracing his face.

“Oh, were you?”

“Well, if you want the truth, I was prepared to say that no matter what you said, but I, too, want to see the Black Crowes and Greensky Bluegrass. I’ve never had the pleasure of listening to…Rainbow Kitten Surprise, but I’m sure it will be an experience.”

She grins at his cadence and the manner in which he regarded her as he spoke. He was mesmerizing. Her anxieties were forgotten as she looked at him and longed to just observe him.

They agreed that leaving the festival would be a hassle and therefore would put it off until tomorrow. Instead, while the set times for the three bands were off in the distance, they were going to get drunk off of free wine and beer. Since Josh was talent, he got all his food and drink covered. And since Josh was Josh, he was charming enough to get her food and drink covered, as well.

After the first wine bar, two glasses of wine - one red and one rosé and 45 minutes of stilted conversation, they walked around the festival on an especially grassy patch of land. They were almost shoulder to shoulder as they walked, Josh only slightly taller than her, but she didn’t mind. His hair made up for it with about three inches of extra volume. Their hands swung by their sides, almost brushing with every step, but she never took the plunge.

Josh was carrying on the conversation almost completely by himself and she was content to listen. She didn’t want to say something to irrevocably change their time together. She felt his eyes on her as they ambled towards a beer tent that had looked fun and interesting and also had seating for them to rest for another 45 minutes. The bluegrass band’s set was at 1 pm and it was just about noon.

“What’s wrong?”

She giggles and looks at Josh who is still regarding her with a perplexed expression. “Nothing.” But her response is too quick.

Josh stops walking. His hand jumps up to her upper arm, to hold her from walking away but also as a form of connection.

“Seriously, did I say something?”

“Oh my god,” She rushes, this time in adamance and necessity to reassure Josh. “No! No, no, it’s not you. I’m just in my head, I guess.”

“Why?” Josh immediately pushes, wanting to fix whatever is plaguing her mind.

“I’m just…” She stops and sighs. Her head turns away from Josh, dropping his gaze and looking around the field they were in, instead. “Honestly?” She starts again and Josh nods.

His eyes are anxious and kind, appraising the situation with the utmost care despite having no clue as to what she is about to say.

“I’m a fucking mess, Josh,” She sighs. “I’m a third year college student and I have no idea what I’m gonna do with my life or how I’m gonna get there. I’m terrified and confused all the time. I live my life in weeks, waiting for the cycle to end so that I can hang out with my closest friends who aren’t actually that close and essentially do nothing because it’s always just the same.”

She takes a deep breath before continuing since Josh has remained silent. “And you’re you,” She gestured exagerratedly at his frame. “You’ve got your shit figured out, you’re a famous fucking musician for fuck’s sake, and I’m over here trying not to implode with all the thoughts racing through my mind, hoping and praying that I don’t fuck this up because I just don’t know why you’re even bothering with me.”

“Bothering with you?” He repeats, his expression is sad in a way she had never seen before. “Oh, sweet girl. You don’t need to have everything figured out. It might not seem like it, but even I don’t have all my shit figured out. You’re not a mess, you’re human and you are living the human experience so you need to be patient with yourself. Be kind to yourself and trust me when I tell you that you aren’t going to fuck this up. I told you yesterday that I liked your mind…right before I kissed you, if I’m not mistaken. So let’s get out of that mind for a little and just be here, present with one another. It will feel really good.”

“I don’t get you.” She still feels defensive and unable to believe that Josh was really this open.

“That’s because you don’t know me,” He responds in a slightly gruff voice. “Yet. Like you, I’m a far more complex person than just who I was when you met me yesterday.”

She nods quickly, immediately realizing her mistake. “You’re right, I’m sorry if I implied that your life was perfect.”

“Don’t apologize,” Josh chuckles good-naturedly with a shake of his head. “Just promise me you’ll be present today.”

“I promise.” She speaks softly, desperately wanting to be telling the truth, but a nagging part of her mind can’t comprehend why Josh wants anything to do with her.

“Good. Now let’s go drink some free beer!”

The day passes, filled with laughter and music and alcohol and anecdotes of their lives. She was sure Josh was the funniest person she had ever met with that terrible kind of dad humor that most people hate but she couldn’t get enough of it from him. Josh was certain that Y/N was the most interesting and complex person he had met in his life yet simple in the way she interacted with him – there was so much going on behind her eyes, he was enamored with unpacking it all, bit by bit. Once she stopped the worrying, she would beam at everything he said and gush about the things she loved, namely music and fashion.

“I know it might sound materialistic or silly, and maybe it boils down to seeking beauty and then therefore pleasure,” She arches a brow at Josh, harking back to his comments yesterday when she had interviewed him. “But I think dressing up is the best thing you can do, especially if it’s just for the fun of it. It’s exciting and enthralling and I wish I could just play dress up all day like I did when I was in preschool.”

He ducks his head down and smiles into his beer for a moment before taking a quick sip and shaking his head. His curls bobbed with the movement in an endearing fashion that made her want to pet his hair, but obviously she refrained.

“I don’t think it’s materialistic or silly. Especially when you backed it up with the insight that it’s likely due to your love for beauty and pleasure and your childhood.”

She twists her lips up, trying to hide her smile as she averts her gaze from Josh’s once more. He was just so sweet. “Thanks,” She whispers from across the picnic table they were sitting at after the first band's set.

Josh had offered to get them to the front of the stage but she had said she wanted to hang out at the back on the grass, where they could watch the crowd and the band. No one bothered them as they swayed along to the bluegrass music and sipped at their plastic cups of beer. Josh had taken their cups from their hands when they were done and placed them beside them on the grass before extending his hand to her. She had placed her palm in his with uncertainty painting her features. He nodded back reassuringly, the light never once leaving his perfect golden brown eyes.

He spun them around in the grass and they began to dance unabashedly between the interspersed people. She threw her head back in laughter as he dipped her and brought her back close to him with one large hand securely clutching at her waist. It was firm against the curve of her skin just above her hip. The point of contact was skin to skin as her top was cropped and her pants weren’t super high waisted. It felt like seering heat and ice simultaneously.

He grinned back radiantly at her and she saw it before ducking her head into the crook of his neck. Her breath fanned over the skin at the base of his neck that was exposed as her grip on his shoulder pulled his shirt a little bit away from the divot in his collarbone. She’d kept her head there for the rest of their dancing, resting her chin on his shoulder for a while as well. Josh had hummed along to the songs and moved them around as the leader of their dancing, swaying his hips slightly to bring her out of her reverie.

Back at the bench, she realizes Josh is speaking to her again and she nods with her eyes widening slightly to show she had been listening despite her daydreaming of a moment that had passed just a half hour ago. He was telling her that it was cute that she still enjoyed something that she did as a preschooler and shared that he had begun singing and performing when he was just a toddler as well.

She hummed in agreement. “You’re a good dancer.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” He winks playfully and she swats at his hand resting on the table between them, moreso to just touch him than to chastise him for being flirty. Since the kiss yesterday, nothing too intimate had passed between them, save for the hug and the dancing.

“I danced until I was a senior in high school,” She admits, contemplatively, almost conspiratorially since the next part felt like a bit of a secret to share with someone as famous as Josh – even if she tried not to think about that part of him for her own sanity. “I loved to perform too.”

“You don’t say,” He lights up and once more she is shocked that he can look any more interested in their conversation. “You know what? I can actually see that.”

She laughs lightly, as if she’s a little embarrassed by his compliment. “Yeah,” She pauses. “I’m sure you know better than I do, but the thrill of being on a stage and having people watching you do what you’ve practiced for so long and you’re a little nervous but you’re mostly excited to kill it and have them applaud you. That thrill of getting to be something more than just yourself – I don’t know if you think of it like that when you’re singing since you’re just yourself up there, but –”

He nods along and bites at his lip while she speaks. “No I think so too, it’s exhilarating. I definitely am more than just myself up there. I feel invigorated and full of life but I also know what you’re talking about from acting, kind of taking on a different character that is more than me, but like it’s still me doing it, becoming it, y’know.”

“Do you ever think you do it off stage?” She asks meekly, maybe scared of his answer.

“Sure, definitely. I don’t know,” He walks through his answer aloud and she smiles softly at his uncertainty. After a moment. “Don’t we all? We’re all performers somedays.”

She hums her agreement, glad he thought similarly to her. The thought had been on her mind since she met Josh and how differently he would act in different moments.

“You’re challenging, you know that?”

“Most people don’t say it like it’s a compliment.”

Josh shakes his head and takes another swig of beer. She follows suit.

“Most people don’t like to be challenged.”

“And you do?”

“Clearly.”

“Clearly,” She smiles back at Josh and they’re silent for a good while after that, just staring at each other with a thick air of tension and longing.

They see Rainbow Kitten Surprise at the back of the crowd once more and she bops around happily while Josh smiles and enjoys it more than he expected. He whispers in her ear when they mess up chords or are off key, how he knew it she wasn’t sure but she believed him and nodded back conspiratorily. A fan stops him once during that set and she watches quietly as they interact. Josh is animated, possibly more than he was with her – if it were possible, as he takes genuine interest in what the person tells him and then takes a picture with them. He bids them farewell and once they’ve gone away he returns closer to her, telling her about his joy in meeting fans. Her brow creases in thought as he explains it, but she’s stuck on how his demeanor changed with them and then deflated to a slightly more controlled self when he was just with her.

She lets him take her to the front of the stage for the Black Crowes set and she lets him hold her with his arms wrapped around her waist as they sway and bounce to the songs. They’re plenty tipsy and possibly fully drunk by then and she leans her head back onto his chest. She rests her hands on his forearms that are snaked close to her body and she can hear him breathe against her ear softly and raggedly when he’s out of breath from dancing them around.

A more sultry song comes on and she purposefully settles into Josh’s chest a little more. His touch is electric as she moves his arms from around her waist to her hips. She can feel him smile into her hair as she presses further back into his firm body and he presses close to her.

When one of Josh’s hands goes missing from her hip she’s close to turning around to see what was wrong, but is placated by his slender fingers playing along the base of her neck as he moves her hair out of the way. They return to her hip but she’s distracted by his plush lips on her neck as they sway, tangled up in one another.

“Is this alright?” Josh asks lowly in her ear, before continuing with another kiss.

“More than,” She breathes, peeking over her shoulder at him. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me again all day.”

His lips quirk up into a pleased smile. “That can be arranged.”

She giggles at his brows lifting in a way that is supposed to be seductive but seems a little hokey coming from Josh and all his lovely mannerisms.

Once more, his lips are on hers and she melts into his touch, twisting around in his hold. His skin is fire against her compared to the cooling May air. Their tongues lick into each other's mouths and their sighs are soft against each other’s mouths, only heard by them due to the music being plenty loud around them.

She tears her lips from Josh’s to kiss his strong jaw, something she had longed to do for a while. The hard spot of his jaw just below his earlobe is where she wants to kiss the most. And as she laves it with her tongue, Josh breathes hard through his nose as his hands hold her close to him, feeling her body soft and sweet against him.

She bites at the hoop earring in his ear when it catches the light for a moment when her eyes slip open.

“Careful,” Josh warns breathlessly when he hears the clank of her teeth against the metal and feels the slight tug.

She lets go and smirks against the skin of his throat as she moves to a new landscape.

She murmurs against his skin. “What? Do you not like that? Or do you like it a little too much?”

Josh hums in nonchalant agreement, attempting to keep his composure while she makes out with him in a relatively public place, even if it is dark and secluded.

She continues kissing his neck, moving with ease as she sucks softly and Josh’s hand pets over her hair, content with letting her work until she nips at him slightly.

“No, baby,” He softly grips the base of her neck and pulls her away from her position, bringing her eyes to meet his.

She tips her eyebrows up in protest and he smiles in spite of himself, his lips splitting to show off the little gap between his teeth. He was too pretty, it wasn’t her fault she wanted to give him a love bite.

“I can’t have visible marks,” He sighs, wishing he didn’t have to say it, wanting nothing more for her to continue and do whatever she wanted to him.

“Aren’t you done touring for awhile?”

“Yeah, I just don’t like visible marks where people might see and speculate.”

“Speculate,” She repeats. “I understand,” She says before moving away, no longer wishing to continue down the path she was traveling, it couldn’t have gone much further in public anyway, especially if she couldn’t leave marks.

Josh brings a finger to tip her chin up so that she’s looking at him once more. Her eyes look anywhere but his own. Across the bridge of his nose, his sunkissed and lightly freckle-smattered cheeks, the curls that fell over his forehead, his well-trimmed mustache, his hairy goatee that had been tickling her while they kissed. She didn’t look at his lips either, avoiding them as well.

“Hey, look at me, please.”

Her eyes meet his, reluctantly. Her face has a pouty expression as he regards her. The lights from the stage didn’t really illuminate her face as she faced away from it, but he could make out her expression nonetheless. Their intertwined bodies were wrapped up behind one of the large speakers, obscuring them from the majority of the crowds around them.

“It’s just a preference, it doesn’t mean I don’t want you, because trust me. I want you,” He chuckles as he tries to express himself clearly.

She nods meekly, flushed at the authoritative tone he had had with her while she was clutched in his hold. She wanted to make him happy.

“Will you kiss me again, sunshine? The little noises you make are so pretty in my ear,” He soothes, petting at the back of her head. His voice is gravelly with desire as he looks into her eyes.

She feels herself brighten at the pet name Josh had chosen for her. He had waxed eloquent earlier about his love for the sun and everything it did for the world. For her to be his sunshine and to want her, she would glow for him.

“I feel like we need to leave,” She responds, still wanting more with Josh and sure that couldn’t happen when they were in public.

Josh quirks his head and then picks up on her meaning. A smirk crawls onto his features, the alcohol in his system making him so very pleased that she was such a go-getter in every aspect of her life. “Is that so?”

She nods and pecks his lips, ready to retreat after the quick kiss, but Josh pulls her back in for a longer kiss that she hums her approval into. Josh’s lips are insistent but she pulls back with a scrape of her teeth against his lower lip, growing impatient with the limited range of actions they could partake in while at the festival.

He pushs down the groan that threatens at the back of his throat from her actions and she feels him attempt to control himself with a squeeze of his hands against her body, the base of her neck and her waist.

He leans down and places his lips against her ear, whispering, “Are you going to take my advice from yesterday about personal pleasure.”

“Certainly, Joshua.” Her fingers trail across his chest in a swirling pattern.

“Fuck,” He breathes, his head falling between them.

“What?”

“Say it again.”

“Certainly?”

“No,” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at her. “You’re a tease aren’t you, sunshine?” He presses against her and her breath hitches feeling his arousal harder than before.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Joshua,” She grins evilly at him.

He laughs and pulls away from her, encircling his hand around her wrist and pulling them away from the stage. “Do you think your hotel or my hotel is closer?”

“I thought you guys were staying on the tour bus?”

“Oh, right,” Josh looks back at her and shakes his finger at her dramatically, realizing she was correct, as she jogs to trail behind his fast pace. They break out into a fit of giggles and she catches up, wrapping her arms around his right arm in a hug as they walk along quickly. Her body curls into his like she wants to become one with Josh and maybe she wishes she could.

Inside the tour bus, a flurry of things happen. Josh doesn’t even have the chance to assure her that they’ll be alone to partake in the activities she’s been whispering in his ear during their fast-paced walk to the bus.

She kisses him for a moment, with hot lips smearing against his in a hurried fashion. He forgets about what he wanted to mention after he had just slipped his phone out to confirm with his band group chat.

Her hands tug at his shirt and he obliges happily, giggling at her eagerness. Delighted that she would want to have sex with him. He felt like he was 16 again, when his high school crush finally took charge and made it clear that she wanted to have sex with him. Josh loved when a woman made her wants clear — like he had told Y/N, being vocal about pleasure was a good thing.

“What do you want, sunshine?” He asks when her hands are trailing at the waistband of his pants.

Her eyes cast up at him mischievously and she blinks at him with a bit of a pout. Her hands run up his smooth chest, it’s toned but not too muscular and she wants to kiss, bite and lick over every inch if he’d let her.

“I want you, Josh,” She whispers.

“I’m all yours,” He responds just as softly, his head nodding to promise it was true.

She squints her eyes at him, simultaneously endeared and annoyed that he’d say that. She wanted him to start taking charge, he seemed to be going along with everything she was doing but she wanted him to be more active with it. She wanted him to be the dominant one, it made her feel wanted, desired.

“Josh, I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“I’ll mean it.” He goes in for a hungry kiss, nodding his head insistently still and leaving her breathless.

Her breath becomes heavier as she begins to anticipate Josh’s moves. Her fingers fumble with the button of his pants again and he pushes them off so that he can tug at her own top. The buttons come undone easily and he pushes it from her shoulders. The black lace bra that is revealed makes Josh’s jaw drop. She grinned and reached behind herself, unhooking the bra and removing it from her body.

Josh’s lips flew to kiss between the valley of her tits. His warm lips suction against the skin, making her arch her back. The trail of his lips moves around her body, making the skin raise with goosebumps when the cool air touches where Josh had been. His large hands were wrapped around the bottom of her shoulder blades, keeping her close as he kissed her.

A particular hard kiss from Josh’s lips on the underside of her left tit brought about the loudest moan she had made. Josh nipped at the skin and then leaned back on his heels to look up at her with a grin on his face.

“Keep making those noises, baby. You sound like a fuckin’ angel.”

“I need more, Josh. Please.” She pets at his hair, brushing back the unruly curls that had been happily tickling her as he kissed her.

He nods. “Okay, sunshine, let’s get you on the bed then. How could I say no when you ask so sweet?”

He walks her back until her knees bend at the feeling of the bed behind her. She’s kissing at his neck until she can’t anymore. Josh stops for a moment as he watches her sitting there, looking up at him. Her arms behind her, keeping her sitting up, her face flushed and adoring as she stared at him. Her breasts perfect and heaving as she took the chance to catch her breath.

He finishes taking off his pants and she does the same with hers, leaving them in only their underwear as Josh crawls on top of her and pulls the curtain closed around them. One of Josh’s hands is cupping her jaw as he kisses her and the other trails down her body making her tremble.

“Josh,” She sighs his name against his lips.

His hand continues down, swirling over the cotton fabric and rubbing over her clothes cunt.

“I bet you’re soaked, huh?” Josh questions, more to himself than anything, continuing to focus on teasing her over her panties.

She nods, nonetheless, causing his thumb to bump against her lips. He glances up at her face with a watchful eye and presses his thumb against her lips firmly. She parts them and sucks it greedily into her mouth, swirling and laving her tongue over it. Josh smirks and continues his fingers’ assault on her continuously growing arousal.

“All over me when we were in public, I felt you pressing you’re ass into me when we were dancing. Trying to get me hard where anyone could see, so fucking naughty. Did you get wet just from dancing, baby?”

Her moan is muffled behind his thumb in her mouth, but he takes it as a yes. This was so hot, Josh finally seeing exactly what she wanted.

“Yeah you did. Cause you’re kinda a slut when it comes down to it. Is that pussy insatiable? Such a needy cunt that you’d let me take you anywhere?”

“Fuck, yes! I need you.”

His nimble fingers finally slip under the fabric and glide through her folds, circling her clit and dipping into her entrance a little before pulling back and licking a bit of her juices off his hand. His groan is loud and shaking which just makes her want him more. The cloudy fog of alcohol had made her hornier and more submissive than usual, but she didn’t feel weird about it with Josh.

“You taste delectable, angel.”

She squeaks at the name which makes Josh’s smirk widen.

“Here, taste yourself,” He removes his thumb and thrusts the other two digits into her mouth now, making her moan. “Fuck, angel. I’m gonna cum in my boxers if you keep making those sounds.”

“Then fuck me, please.”

“You’re sure you’re ready?” He tilts his head, teasing her slightly but also checking in to make sure they’d done enough foreplay.

She nods and pulls him in for a kiss, tongues in each other’s mouths, dancing together and fighting for who’s in charge simultaneously. One of Josh’s hands trails down and yanks at her underwear, pulling them down around her knees and she wiggles them the rest of the way off before pulling up her knees and letting Josh’s body find a home between them.

His boxers are next but not before he grinds his clothed cock over her quivering center, open, leaking and hot for him. He sits back on his knees for a second, one hand running up and down her thigh, soothing her shivering body and the other wrapped around his cock, it’s head twitching as he dragged it through her folds. A squelching noise sounds when he begins to push it faster around her clit and entrance. The heat between her legs is amazing, it already feels as if she’s going to explode, but she wants Josh inside of her.

He relents from his teasing finally and pushes his cock head in and then slowly the rest of him, bottoming out and draping himself over her once more. The full feeling Josh gives her cunt is better than anyone of the few before. His body is wrapped around hers and hers is then wrapped around his cock. She whimpers for him to move and he starts at a steady speed, attempting to control himself when it feels so good inside her warm snug cunt.

He speeds up when she begs him to, the slapping sound along with every sensation was so much but she was greedy and wanted more. Her moans are loud as he pounds into her.

“Fuck,” Josh grunts, arm beside her face as she clutches as his biceps. “You’re pussy is so sweet to me, angel. So snug and warm, so inviting. Like you made it up special, just for me.”

“Did you make it up special for me, baby?”

“Yes,” She moans and writhes “Just for you, Josh.”

“That’s right, angel. Thank you.”

He babbles about her pussy like it’s a cabin home for his cock and in her drunk heightened state it makes complete sense, its also a little endearing if he wasn’t fucking her obscenely at a festival on a tour bus, but that barely crossed her mind. This was Josh and he was making her see stars.

“Josh,” She whines, hands gripping now at his shoulders and back, legs wrapping around his hips to push herself up to him.

“Are you gonna cum? Gonna cum so pretty for me with that sweet cunt of yours. Can feel it choking my cock, wanting it to never leave. Believe me baby I don’t ever wanna leave.”

She nods deliriously, moaning at his words.

“Then go on, angel. Take it. It’s all yours. Yours for the taking, go on. Cum.” His affirmations and encouragement is so sweet and so hot coupled with his thumb rubbing tight circles into her puffy clit, she loses it, convulsing around Josh’s cock as it continues to pump into her.

Her body shakes and her head rolls back, the orgasm coming in multiple waves as he fucks her through it. A hand goes up to her face, soothing her tensed expression as the pleasure washes over her. He continues to talk but she can barely hear it. He pulls out and cums on her stomach just when she flutters her eyes open, meaning she gets to see his own eyes flutter shut and pink lips drop open as he finishes.

He smiles lopsidedly when he opens his eyes and sees her adoring gaze on him.

“That was amazing, sunshine,” He gives her a peck on the lips before getting up to get them cleaned up. She nods and closes her eyes, feeling content and unbelievably tired.

She tells herself not to fall asleep before Josh returns and maybe she doesn’t but the next thing she remembers is soft sheets and a peek of sunlight coming from somewhere.

The next morning, she finds herself in an unfamiliar bed. It wasn’t the hotel bed that she had slept in the two previous nights either.

“Fuck,” She sat up quickly and almost hit her head if an arm didn’t keep her from sitting up completely. Instead she just jostles back and forth with the new weight registering in her mind.

Her eyes trailed from the hand on her shoulder, up the toned arm, over the connected shoulder and finally to the face of the owner of the arm, Josh. Josh...

Josh fucking Kiszka. She’d fucked Josh Kiszka. In his tour bus. Right. Let’s remain calm. She took a deep inhale through her nose and out her mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible as he snoozed quietly beside her. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed evenly, his skin looked as soft as perfect beach sand.

Her body was covered in a t-shirt that wasn’t hers and wasn’t Josh’s either since she was sure he only owned white ones. This was an oversized raggedy faded black Queen shirt that smelled of strong men’s cologne and not at all Josh. She picked at the collar and brought it to her nose, sniffing it and wrinkling her nose.

“What the fuck?” She whispered to herself which caused Josh to stir ever so slightly beside her.

She sunk back to lying flat on the bed from her position on her elbows.

“You awake, sweet pea?” He asks softly, groggily into her ear.

She hums as if waking up and flutters her eyelashes open, in a way that she hopes is attractive. ‘Sweet pea’ had her preening into his touch when his hand slid from all the way across her body to touch her waist, beneath the thin sheet that covered them both.

He was curled up against her and she shifted onto her side in a relatively awkward way due to the cramped sleeping situation they were in. Thankfully, it was spacious enough that she didn’t have any aches or pains from actually sleeping in it last night. Some soreness in her thighs and other places, but that was from the activities prior to the sleeping.

A realization of a few things happens all at once for her.

“Did your bandmates slash brothers hear us last night?! Where’s my phone? Did I remember to tell Chloe where I was and that I wasn’t coming back to the hotel? Fuck, do you know where my phone is?”

Josh smiles, like her freak out is amusing to him and he pats at her uncovered hip, stroking it softly, trying to soothe her.

“It’s on the charger. You texted Chloe and I told my brothers to fuck off for half the night and texted them when they were free to return to the bus. You’re okay.”

She breathes a sigh of relief and then flushes at the memories of last night. Of Josh in all his glory. Of the extra care he took with her, like no man had ever done before. Of the sounds she had made for him. Of the words he had said.

“Was it any good?”

“Jesus Christ Sam!” She shrieks and tucks her knees to her chest, which doesn’t really do anything, but makes her feel more covered up underneath the thin sheet. Josh’s hand slithers around her back to hold at her other hip, trying to comfort her once more. It certainly distracts her, his soft touch and undying warmth.

Josh glares at the curtain around the bed, knowing his brother is likely standing in the hallway behind it.

“Well, we’re all wondering,” Sam calls again. Jake was still in bed, but awake, and Danny was making coffee down the hall, but indeed they all were quite interested in hearing what had transpired the night before. All their ears perking up to Sam’s voice echoing through the cabin instead of the murmured voices they’d heard previously.

Josh looks to Y/N with an apologetic smile and she returns it, before tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder, finding immense comfort in his body. He reluctantly pulls the curtain back to glare at Sam, who is grinning boyishly, like he just won a game. Josh throws a pillow at his own naked chest. Sam catches it easily with a ‘humph’ sound, but the smile never leaves his face.

“C’mon get on with the story!” Jake’s voice comes from above them, followed by a peek of his head out from his bed’s curtain. His eyes are foggy with sleep and his hair was unruly and maybe a little tangled.

“Are they always like this?” She murmurs to Josh, but loud enough for both Sam and Jake to hear. They snort.

Josh chuckles good-naturedly, he loved his brothers despite how prying they could be. “Only my entire life.”

“Nice shirt.” Sam interrupts their moment once more.

She eyes his shirtless form, how confidently and smuggly he was standing there, eyeing the shirt she was wearing. She glanced at it, its worn blackness, the little tear at the shoulder likely from someone tugging at it constantly. “Is it his?” She asks Josh.

“Yeah,” Josh laughs. “You were insistent on wearing it last night and I tried to tell you, but you hushed me and said to be a ‘good old fashioned lover boy’ and let you do what you want.”

“Yeah that sounds like me.” She relents and rolls her eyes at Sam who raised his eyebrows at her teasingly. “If you’re not careful, I just might keep it.”

Sam smiles at that and raises a palm, “By all means, keep your souvenir.”

She laughs genuinely and everyone smiles happily. Afterall, it had been a good night and the guys were happy to see Josh happy. It was just obligatory to give him a little shit for it.

Josh tells her that he’s going to get ready and then take her back to her hotel. Before she can protest, he explains that it’s so she can change and get ready to go out into Napa together. She smiles and he pecks her on the lips before getting out of bed. He hands her jeans and original shirt from yesterday back to her. As he saunters off, she works to put her jeans back on, but keeps the Queen shirt on, the halter was cute albeit slightly uncomfortable and after last night, all she ever wanted was to feel blissfully comfortable. One night with Josh had taught her so much about herself that she had never known. It was euphoric. Even the morning shenanigans of Josh’s brothers couldn’t dampen her mood, her happiness.

She climbs out of the tour bus bed and ambles towards the smell of coffee. Eager and interested in putting some of the dark liquid into her system. A slight headache from all of the alcohol consumed yesterday persisted despite her happiness and she hoped to dull it. The ache in her legs however and the tenderness along her neck and chest, she never wanted those sensations to leave.

Danny and Sam were seated in the area where the coffee was and Sam was quick to jump up and grab her a cup, noticing her longing stare at their cups filled with the warmth. She thanked him and greeted Danny with a soft smile. After Sam hands her a mug filled to the brim with hot coffee, she thanks him once more and takes a seat beside Danny, opposite of Sam’s original seat.

“So…” Sam settled back into his seat and cast his eyes towards her, with a tilt of his head, rather coquettishly.

She rolls her eyes again, but smiles softly behind the lip of the coffee mug. “You’re not going to hear a word from me. If Josh wants to tell you, that’s up to him.”

“Based on the marks I can see on your neck and that I can only imagine going…lower. He’ll have lots to say,” Sam winks.

Danny laughs at his friend and shakes his head at Y/N. “Ignore Sam, he’s just jealous he didn’t find anyone to hook up with at the festival. It’s always a fun place to meet people.”

She nods, trying to ignore the slight sting his words carried. They regarded her as a friend but then spoke of other people as mere conquests. It made her feel a little icky, because wasn’t that what she was to Josh?

There’s a beat of silence after Sam made a sound of disapproval of Danny’s observation. She swallows some more coffee before glancing her eyes back down the corridor, hoping Josh would walk out soon.

“He’s going to be awhile,” Danny interprets her gaze. “All that hair doesn’t fall into place on its own.”

She laughs and nods understandingly.

Danny starts again, feeling as if he had upset her somehow, but not exactly sure how. He asks about her work as a journalism student and she jumps into it, animated and happy to talk about something she was passionate about. Eventually, Josh reemerges from the back of the bus and graces them with his presence, bright and bubbly as always.

“Ready, sunshine?”

A smile spreads across her face, unwittingly. Her body naturally gravitated towards the thing, the man, who had been so kind and good to her the last few days.

After she’s changed and ready for the day, informing Chloe of the plans. The three of them are ambling outside to her car since she told Josh they didn’t need to take the random rental the band had gotten. She liked to drive anyway. The boys meet them downtown, having someone drop them off instead of driving themselves. The town center had a green garden filled with willowy trees and a white gazebo. The sound of chirping birds was almost drowned out by the passing cars, but as they walked to the center the birds became clearer and her smile grew wider. It was nice to be outside of the festival in the fresh air that wasn’t overpowered by food trucks and alcohol.

The boys asked questions about Northern California that Y/N tried to answer to her best ability. Chloe was from Southern California which they had a little more knowledge about, but they were vastly unaware of all the huge state had to offer.

After getting coffees from a little café and ambling down the semi-quiet streets of downtown Napa, they came upon a ceramics store where you could paint premade pots and other ceramics.

“Oh my god! We have to go in,” She beams upon reading the sign. “This is, like, my favorite thing from my childhood. Where I grew up there used to be one, but it closed when I was like nine.”

Josh had paused beside her and had his brows raised as he watched her excitement, loving to see her excited when she had been rather quiet the entire morning. He chalked it up to a mild hangover and being one of those people who needed a few cups of coffee to start their day, according to what she had told him previously.

“Let’s go in, then.”

She looks up to him with a hopeful expression that turns into glee when she sees he’s serious. In her excitement, she takes ahold of Josh’s hand and leads him into the shop trailing behind her. Everyone else smiles and follows behind with mumbles of agreement that it could be fun. Jake asked if there was alcohol involved or if there could be alcohol involved and she shot him a look of mock disdain, but couldn't keep the smile off her face, caught between her childhood self’s wholesomeness and her current self’s appreciation for a good drink.

“After you fire them, can they be shipped?” Josh asks innocently to the worker who was helping them, Alice.

“Sure! We can ship ‘em anywhere in the continental U.S. for a small fee. Outside of that, the fee does get a bit bigger.” Alice replies, handing Jake the last piece the group needed, a frog mug he had asked for.

Josh thanks her and then turns to Y/N who is seated across the table from him. “Do you want to paint one for each other and then we can have them shipped to each other afterwards?”

Her head quirked to the side as she felt his foot press next to hers underneath the table. She wanted to take his hand and hold it, but he had dropped her hold immediately upon entering and seeing the worker approach them so she didn’t think he liked to be touchy in public where people could see. So she refrained. She bumps his foot back and Josh smiles a little wider, mirroring her tilted head.

“Why not?”

“Fantastic.”

She tries to push away the angry butterflies in her stomach that hadn’t stopped fluttering all day since she had left Josh’s bed. She longed to be back in the safety of that bed, where Josh would touch her hip to remind her he was there to comfort her. Now she just dreaded this day ending as much as Josh had encouraged her to live in the present and not view it as a memory like she had told him she often did.

At the large table, the six of them get to work on painting their ceramics of choice. Josh’s, that would be Y/N’s eventually, was a plate with vegetables on it. Y/N’s, that would go to Josh, was a small catch-all dish for jewelry or anything. Jake’s was the frog mug. Sam had snagged an ashtray with raised stars on the outside. Danny had a bowl with etched in waves. Chloe picked out a small cup that she said she’d use as a shot glass, everyone had heartily agreed that she chose the best one.

The music playing in the store was calming, yet upbeat enough for them to consistently work and not get too off track. It also wasn’t too poppy for the music snobs who sat within the confines of the store. As an aspiring music journalist, Y/N couldn’t claim that she wasn’t one of them. Only Chloe listened to anything that could resemble the top 20 of today.

Conversations ebbed and flowed, but with Josh and Y/N on the edge of the table, they slipped off into their own conversations more often than not.

“I’ve been wondering,” Josh says, glancing up from his plate that now had the outer edge painted with what would be a deep forest green. “How did you get out of the pit so quickly so that you were waiting at the side of the stage when we got off? I saw you move through with relative ease, but what could you have said to get through that crowd, it’s usually pretty difficult.”

She smiles down at the catch all plate that was going to be lavender at the center, save for some spots where she was going to place little diamond stars. “I might have lied quite a bit…I said I thought I was going to pass out and that I felt sick. Plus, people are more willing to let you out of the front rather than let you in.” She shrugged and smiled a little when Josh shook his head at her in admiration.

“Your journalistic integrity might get called into question if you always use a ruse to get what you want.”

“Luckily, I told you the truth,” She simpered.

“But you didn’t!” Josh widens his eyes, realizing another thing she had fibbed about, albeit, he wasn’t actually upset about it. “You said it’d be quick and look, I’ve been with you all weekend long.”

“That was your choice,” She shrugged, smiling down at the dish.

She felt the eyes of Jake on her, across the table, appraising the girl Josh had taken quite a liking too. He was perplexed that they were still hanging out with her. He didn’t mind, he liked her well enough, but the whole situation was odd and he really hadn’t had time to ask Josh about it, save for after the first night.

Josh had told him about their kiss and how he’d told her he wanted to see her again. Jake had assumed she hadn’t wanted to hook up right away so Josh was being patient, but after last night he assumed it would have been a ‘see you later’ and not a ‘we’re all spending the day together’ kind of thing. Josh had also told him that he shouldn’t worry about what he had said during their high interview with her, about not being able to hold a serious long distance relationship. He had been pressed for an answer and he knew it was true, but he also didn’t want a serious long distance relationship, so what was the big issue with saying it.

Jake had nodded and sighed and simply hoped for the best for his brother. He was a charmer, but Jake worried that Josh often laid it on too thick, misleading girls to think it was more than it was for Josh. He just hoped Y/N understood that this wasn’t something that could last longer than the weekend.

The wind picks up when they exit the shop. Josh had insisted on paying the shipping costs for both of their pieces since he had been the one to suggest that they exchange them. Sam had teased Josh and asked if he’d pay for everyone’s, but Josh had cackled and heckled his little brother back.

Jake raised a brow again at his twin’s kind gestures and wandered off ahead of the group down the street. They hadn’t decided where they were going next so he wanted to be in silence for a little.

Y/N watched him walk off and if Josh notices her attention stray from him, he doesn’t say anything as he regales her with a story from when he had accidentally almost set his laptop on fire. She laughed and smiled and interjected words of amazement and concern at all the right times – a skill she had had all her life, but perfected as a journalism student for particularly boring interviews where she just needed one quote and had to listen to someone go on forever about something that didn’t matter to her. Not that what Josh was saying wasn’t of interest to her. She was just preoccupied with Jake’s strange behavior. She didn’t know him well, obviously, but she had gathered he was quiet but also kind and particularly boisterous with his brothers. She didn’t think her or Chloe should be the cause of this silent and almost sulking quality he was exuding.

Her interest was piqued and she just wanted to know why. She wanted to understand, perpetually curious – it was a blessing for her future career, but potentially a curse in this situation.

Jake stops his walking to peer into a window display. The winery it was promoting was one that someone had mentioned to him that they should try while they were here. Now that it had popped up again, he thought it could be a good activity – especially with the drinking included.

“Y’all want to go wine tasting?” He asks, turning his head to stare at the group mildly once they had neared his figure.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, Jacob,” Sam supplies, eyes lighting up at the prospect of going to a winery. “You are such a wonderful patriarch,” Sam snickers and Jake rolls his eyes.

“Hey!” Josh interjects, his ego showing itself.

Danny sounds off in agreement of going to the winery, as does Chloe, who really didn’t care, especially since she wasn’t yet 21, cursed with a summer birthday, much to her chagrin. Most wineries probably wouldn’t care, but every so often there would be a server who would card everyone.

Y/N agrees as well, of course, but notes the flicker of possible annoyance in Jake’s eyes when she voices said agreement with “I’d love to go. Acceptable forms of day drinking are my favorite pastimes.”

The gravel crunches beneath her car as she pulls down the unpaved road that was leading them to the winery. Chloe had said she’d take over driving after the winery so that Y/N could drink to her heart’s content. She had grinned at her best friend and thanked her.

Inside the winery’s tasting room, a host greeted them and immediately began to help them, getting them seated outside to enjoy the warm sunshine. The breeze was welcome outside now, when they were sitting on wicker couches and chairs with dark grey cushions accented with red throw pillows, all warmed by the sun.

Y/N found herself seated directly next to Jake on the couch and Josh on her other side in a separate chair. Josh beams at her and asks her to remind him of her favorite type of wine. She responds with “‘Malbec’ or sometimes ‘Merlot’.” Josh nods before turning to their server, asking if any of the tastings included a Malbec. She smiled and tried to keep the heat from rising to her cheeks as the server’s eyes flickered from Josh to her, noting the clear relationship they seemed to have in the server’s eyes.

Jake readjusted in his seat and flicked some of his hair off of his shoulder. His movement brings her attention to him, but he doesn’t regard her. His eyes shifting and flickering around the scenery, out at the green vineyards and blue sky.

“Is something wrong?” She murmurs to him, while Josh is still occupied with deciding on which tasting the group was going to do, while Sam and Danny amused Chloe with a tour story.

His eyes reluctantly find her face, but avoid maintaining eye contact for longer than a beat.

“Not particularly, why do you ask?”

The stare he finally gives her with his question almost feels like he’s completely turned the tables on her. She suddenly feels very small under his gaze and she immediately longs for when he was refusing to look at her because this is far more intimidating. His pointed nose is narrow and sharp like a beak of an elegant bird as he stares down at her. His eyes barely crinkle at the edges and his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. Her eyes break from the stare to look down, catching on the glinting silver of his long necklace that lays against his naked tan chest, exposed due to his unbuttoned shirt that wrinkles beneath an unbuttoned vest. His vibe was very slutty pirate if she could name it and she actually loved it if he wasn’t looking at her with such intensity.

“You’ve just seemed,” Her eyes return to his face, attempting to not back down, realizing Jake had just turned something on, a mechanism to further avoid her questioning. She decides to change her course of action. “Nevermind.”

Jake’s face turns satisfied, thinking he had successfully gotten her to leave him alone about what had been bothering him.

The longest wine tasting option Josh could have picked commences with a Malbec coming up fifth. By the sixth wine, she was feeling slightly tipsy. Josh was grinning and telling a story that the boys were all a part of so she assumed it was only for her’s and Chloe’s benefits. His hands flew around him as he described a grand concert hall dinner they had attended previously and how they had met Elton John that night. She smiled and giggled when Josh mimicked Elton John’s British accent.

“Jake, of course, is much better at doing a British accent than me,” Josh laughs. “I’ll concede to that. Will Mr. Reed be joining us at any point this afternoon?” He regards Jake for his question, who smiles back calmly and shakes his head negatively before draining his glass of Zinfindel.

“No, I don’t think he will,” Jake’s regular voice sounds, “But I am going to go for a smoke, if that’s alright?”

Josh nods, but approval wasn’t actually what Jake was looking for. He moves to stand, but before he can maneuver himself around Y/N, she stands as well.

“You don’t mind if I join you?” She asks, innocently. “It’s a bad habit of mine, but if I’m not alone I don’t feel as guilty.”

Josh smiles happily at his brother, seeing no reason for Jake to say no to her and being delighted at the prospect of the two of them getting to know each other a little better.

Jake gestures for her to go ahead of him since it didn’t seem like he could refuse.

They walk off together down a path that leads towards the vineyards. Everyone else rested with their wines, it gave them time to catch up, Danny and Josh were still only on the fourth wine and Sam was on the fifth. Only Y/N and Jake had been keeping the official pace, finishing their sixth before wandering off. The remaining group also decided to order some snacks to go along with the food. Chloe happily sipped at her Coke Zero.

Jake fishes his pipe from the inside pocket of his vest and his box of tobacco, beginning to pack the pipe. She regards him beside her, expertly packing the bowl.

She can’t help her yelp of laughter at the sight. His eyes flicker to her face that she tamps down into a tight lipped smile. “That’s so pretentious, I’m sorry.”

He rolls his eyes and continues his process. “It’s all I’ve got. Don’t you know? Cigarettes kill.”

She laughs genuinely at this while simultaneously slipping her crumpled pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket. “I think it’s all tobacco products, but whatever helps you sleep.”

They pause to help shield each other’s smoking device of choice from the wind so that they can be lit. Surprisingly, Jake speaks first after the cigarette and pipe are burning.

His hand toggles the pipe from his lips and allows the smoke to billow out from his mouth. It goes off in the opposite direction of her, thankfully. He had been careless, just allowing the smoke to seep from his lips, if the wind had blown the opposite direction it would have hit her directly in the face.

“Have you enjoyed your weekend?” He attempts to be casual as they continue down the path between the vines.

She glances at him and how his eyes continue to survey the land, clearly not actually caring to hear what she has to say, but attempting to preoccupy her mouth with words that wouldn’t question his behavior again.

She hums in affirmation and blows the smoke from her lungs.

“Jake,” She calls his name, hoping this will actually bring his eyes to her. It does. “Are you ever compelled to write?”

Jake’s eyes flash wide in confusion, not fully understanding the question and confused as to where it came from. “Pardon?”

She smiles to herself and then looks away from him to try and explain her question better. “I know you’re like the guitar guy and I honestly don’t know how much of the lyrics you write for the band, but beyond that, are you ever moved to write something down? Not like a to-do list or something like that, but to write down a story or a thought that bounces around your head until the only way to stop it is to write it down.”

Jake immediately brightens. “Yes, often,” He breathes out. She had described something he experienced regularly but didn’t discuss with people because the few times he had broached the topic it had been shot down. He assumed most people didn’t feel that way.

“I feel that constantly,” She continues and takes a drag of her cigarette. “Sometimes it’s exhausting right?”

Jake nods when she looks to him for confirmation.

“When I’m with Josh,” She pushes forward. “I don’t feel that compulsion. I feel peaceful. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to write things down, I want to remember every moment, every breath, every laugh with him, but it’s not so frantic. I know I’m younger than you guys and you might think I’m naive for entertaining the notion that Josh and I could continue whatever this is when we’re apart, but I’m okay with it being something when we’re together and then something else when we’re not. What I’m trying to say is, I would hate for you to be upset with me or your brother for something we’ve got under control. I was apprehensive to say ‘yes’ to Josh when I first met him, but now it feels so easy and it’s barely been three days.”

Jake chuckles despite himself and her eyes flash to his face, disturbed that he would laugh when she had said something so serious. Had she completely misread his expressions and behavior today.

“You’re incredibly astute for barely knowing me and my brother.”

“Is that actually a compliment or are you being facetious?”

Jake laughs again with a little shake of his head before tipping his pipe over and blowing out the fulling smoked bowl of ash. “No, I mean it. I worry about him. Some people get misled by his charm and it ends up blowing up in his face at the end of the day because he’s so empathetic. He’ll beat himself up over a girl crying because he made all these big promises and grand gestures, all for it to end. He doesn’t do it maliciously, he’s just too intrinsically optimistic and loving. He’ll give a random girl an interview and then decide to introduce her to the rest of the band and sweep her off her feet, spend the entire weekend with her and make her fall in love. And I’m the one left to pick up the pieces when he feels terrible that he’s upset you, but since you already know what this is, I’m relieved.”

She grimaces but attempts to keep it light. She hoped Jake had said this out of kindness, that he hadn’t intentionally just told her she wasn’t as special as she thought she was. That Josh did this all the time apparently and any promises he had made her were bound to be broken. She hoped that it wasn’t fully true either, that he hadn’t just reduced this weekend to another time he’d have to console his brother when she got upset that it was ending. Because in her eyes, it wasn’t ending, this was just a see you later. That’s what Josh had told her. Best possible outcomes only.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Y/N. I think you’ve got good things coming to you in this life,” Jake bumps the elbow of her arm that wasn’t holding her cigarette butt that she didn’t want to drop in the dirt. “Thanks for talking to me, I feel much better.”

“Yeah,” She replies, lost in her mind once more. “Course. I don’t like to see people upset.”

They turn back and rejoin the group. Jake doesn’t notice her quieter state, now telling her his own story about traveling around California previously. She interjected when necessary, but otherwise her eyes wandered along the vines. The vibrant green was barren of any fruit, it dangled along the lines that had been placed to hold up the crop. The crop that would flower and fruit that would make the wine. Maybe following Jake down this path hadn’t been such a good idea.

Josh beams at their return, not consciously noticing that Jake had been quiet before but certainly noting that he was brighter than before. Perhaps because he spent time with Josh’s new paramour which made him happy. He also didn’t seem to notice the lackluster quality that had overtaken said paramour upon her returning. He was good at seeing the happy things, at times to a fault.

It also didn’t help that Y/N masked her displeasure with a sunny smile that mirrored Josh’s.

After the winery, she does her best to continue the facade that had proved to be convincing for the last hour. However the wine was affecting her brain. She was tired and a bit sad. When she lags behind the group, Josh finally notices and slows to walk with her, letting the rest of the group wander ahead on the walk back to the car. It was a long winding road that they had walked down originally to get to the vineyard’s barn where the tastings took place.

“How’re you feelin’, sunshine?”

“Honestly?” She looks up at him, the sun shining on half of her face from the angle Josh looked at her. It bronzed her features as if she was ancient art and Josh truly regarded her as such.

“A bit drunk,” She starts with a pout on her lips when he nods her on. He ‘aww’s at her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. She huffs and presses her head against his warm chest, finding it comforting yet also aggravating that he didn’t know why she was upset. But how could he when she hadn’t told him and had been acting like everything was fine? “Are you sure you want to continue things when we’re apart?”

“You know I am,” Josh stops, leaning back to look in her eyes. He sees the sadness clearly now in her watery eyes. “Did you get in your head again?”

“No,” She shakes her head and laughs humorlessly. “I actually wasn’t until Jake and I went on our walk –”

“What did he say?” Josh intervenes, suddenly worried. He shakes his head, already upset at his brother for making Y/N upset.

“It’s fine, Josh,” She puts a hand on his chest. “I don’t want you to be upset with him because of this, he didn’t realize he said something callous. It just made me feel like maybe you didn’t actually care about me all that much.”

“But I do, trust me,” He says her name, pleading for her to believe him as she blinks back a few more tears.

“I want to Josh,” She nods, “It just sounded like this happens a lot and I don’t want you to be upset because I’m upset because Jake said that’s always what happens and just…fuck. I don’t know. I just wish I could believe you, but I’m scared and I want to be chill about it but I’m just not chill.”

The tears come faster and Josh hugs her to his chest because he feels realization wash over him. She was scared. She was scared of what he could do to her because she cared that much. He held her close and tried to soothe her upset state. Thankfully no one had come back to look for them, likely realizing they needed some time alone.

“You don’t need to believe me right now, that’s fine. I’ll prove it to you, though. That this isn’t like the other times, that I’m not leading you on. I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do right now that will show you that, that will grant you peace of mind. But I hope you know, these past few days have imprinted themselves in my mind. I care for you deeply.”

“Thanks,” She sniffles and attempts to will away the tears, no longer wishing for them to come out of her eyes. She didn’t even feel like crying they were just happening to her because of what they were talking about.”

He kisses the top of her head and she gives him a watery smile. When they reach the car, no one asks what took them so long or why it looked like Y/N had been crying. Chloe gives her a backward glance from the driver’s seat and Josh glares at Jake a little, but stops when Y/N places her hand on his thigh.

That night is soft and Josh kisses Y/N a few times, they hold one another but neither of them offer to stay the night. Josh promises to see her again. She nods and kisses just to the right of his lips.

“Thank you for everything, Josh. I hope you’re right.”

Ooops sorry... PLS tell me what you think, inbox is open or feel free to comment

Part 2

#josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka gvf #josh kiszka fan fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fic #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x y/n #gvf fanfiction #my writing

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technoblade-updates · 2 years

Text

Techno posted some more in his discord! (Read bottom to top.)

[Image ID:

Several cropped screenshots of Discord messages by Techno.

#dream-smp-discussion

Techno: “bruh who leaked this”, in reply to Prosecutor Wolfhandler saying “harpocrates is manatreed /j”.

Techno: “years of lore planning down the drain”.

Techno: “i actually want to stream but the door to my room was removed so my wheelchair could fit and my entire family is stuck at home and Loud”, in reply to Mastrr saying “Hey techno, while your active you should stream”.

Techno: “usually id just leave and stream somewhere else but that would require the ability to climb stairs”.

Techno: “background noise gon be like HEY TECHNO UR SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER'S STILL XXXXXXXX RIGHT”, in reply to Prosecutor Wolfhandler saying “don't worry, the background noise is just bonus content to us”.

Techno: “ok i just tried a new method and i safely ascended a set of stairs by sitting down and pushing myself up backwards one step at a time”.

Techno: “now to figure out how to go down stairs... hmm...”

Techno: “listen, when my discord messages inevitably get screenshotted and posted on some update account i cant have ppl seeing me swear. it's OFF-BRAND”, in reply to faber saying “did he really edit "wtf" to “bruh" after a while Imao”.

Techno: “i've never said that in my life. that doesn't even sound like me at all”, in reply to FinnTheHuman saying “Techno you literally said you preferred your babies boneless here before the purge why...”

Techno: “i bet i can ban you faster than you can post screenshots”, in reply to FinnTheHuman saying “Brb”.

Techno: “:technounit:”.

Techno: “was this that time i needed ppl to help me train in 1.9 pvp and you guys were like "we can help we're experts" and then you joined my realm and started getting folded”.

Techno: “:technolaugh:”.

Techno: “emote creators are exempt from taxes”, in reply to rhen saying “i have a genuine question of why techno went to my profile to give me emote creator while i was still a white name”.

Techno: “what have i done. you were king pig too NOOOO”, in reply to FinnTheHuman saying “I CAN TAX EVADE TOO LETS GOOOO”.

#video-discussion

Techno: “my bad”.

Techno: “i increased slowmode there to 6 hours. watch them come crawling back”, in reply to himself saying “my bad”.

#dream-smp-discussion

Techno: [attached is a nerd/virgin vs chad meme, with the crying nerd labeled “DSMP Fans” and the chad labeled “Greek Mythology Fans”. Under both is a screenshot of a twitter post, cropped so as to not show the name of the poster. The one under the nerd reads “GUYS YOU’VE BEEN DISCUSSING THE SAME LORE FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR IF I SEE ANOTHER DOOMSDAY TAKE I AM GOING TO BECOME THE JOKER”. The one under the chad reads “why c!odysseus was actually the one responsible for the trojan war, a thread [1/36]”.]

Techno: “c!odysseus did nothing wrong dude. you better not be some kinda clparis apologist”.

#video-discussion

Techno: “alright ill turn off slowmode there for 15 seconds but then im turning it back on so if you dont reset ur 6 hours in time dont blame me”.

Techno: “what if i just leave it off does it work then“.

Techno: “well it's working for other people so maybe you just have too many bones idk”.

#dream-smp-discussion

Techno: “streamer: has mic muted by accident character analysts: it's essay time”.

Techno: “gonna post my meme on reddit for free upvotes”.

Techno: “i dont understand how reddit works. it just made me give my post a Flair?? sounds made up”.

End ID]

#technoblade #mcyt #image id #no id in alt text #monkaW I have been called out #alas i wasn’t actually fast enough to catch that KEKW #peeposmile definitely no one saw the version where i forgot to crop one of these properly

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whiteqnn · 3 years

Text

PURE [5] - Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

A/N: It’s been a while.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

PURE [5]

“Did you guys find anybody?” Felix’s voice sounded out when the man repeated the same question for what seemed like the third time since he joined the call. The number of players showed 7 of them, which meant that they were still missing three people. Sure, they could start the game now, but it would be way more enjoyable and funny with a full lobby.

“Yeah, Toast will be here any moment. “Sykkuno replied right away. “He just texted me; he should join us in a few.”

“Cool. Anyone else?”

“I think Corpse was also supposed to join us, right? Not sure though why he isn’t here yet.”

“Oh, yeah, Corpse will be here soon too!” Jack suddenly chimed in with an explanation. “He said he needed to take care of something first, but he’ll be here before we start.”

“Great. But that means we’re still one person short.” Felix hummed when Toast’s little astronaut appeared in the lobby “Hey Toast."

“Hey man.”

“Do you have anyone coming?”

“I’m afraid not. I asked MrBeast, but he’s busy, so...”

“Well then, we can just start when Corpse is here, and maybe we’ll find someone in the meantime?” Dave suggested, earning a few hums of approval from the other players.

“Yeah, I think that’s the best option...” Jack agreed. But then his voice blared out in everyone’s headphones with excitement. “Ha! Corpse is bringing someone!”

“Who?”

“I dunno, he just texted me he has one coming and that’s all.”

“Hm, all right. Let’s wait then.”

***

Corpse fidgeted with his phone, glancing between its screen and the chat in his stream. People were already asking countless questions, but rather than answering them, he was waiting for Y/N to call him. He was nervous - the girl still hadn’t commented on his request.

The idea to invite her to the lobby wasn’t spontaneous. In fact, he’d been thinking about it for quite some time now, but never found the courage to actually ask if she would like to join them for the game.

It’s been almost a month now since that memorable phone call. A month since Y/N last played with her friends; a month since she considerably reduced her social media usage.

Sure, she was still active on her youtube channel, but not as much as before the whole haters situation. No matter how hard she tried to just ignore them and simply continue her career, she just couldn’t. There were still these nagging thoughts at the back of her mind, reminding her of all those people and their comments, their messages. It seemed like a good idea to take a short break and sort everything out.

Her fans understood it. They were obviously sad that her videos weren’t as frequent as before, but everyone knew what the situation looked like and that Y/N needed some time for herself.

Her audience knew it, and so did her friends. Especially Corpse.

The man kept his word and talked to the girl whenever she wanted to. Which, in the end, was almost everyday. Although at the beginning their conversations mostly focused on her current problem and dealing with it, their topics broadened over the time.

At one point though, Y/N started worrying that maybe she’s annoying him with her so frequent calls. She thought that she shouldn’t bother him that much - even if talking to him was what really helped her cope with her problems. He already had enough on his plate, and sharing her own concerns with him suddenly seemed like a very selfish thing to do.

But she quickly realized how wrong she was for thinking like that. When one day she didn’t call, figuring out that she should stop troubling him with her own issues, she was very surprised when Corpse reached out to her himself. He expressed how worried he got when she didn’t call, and when she explained what was the reason, he spent the next fifteen minutes lecturing her that she should never think she’s bothering him.

From that day on, they talked every single day. And they talked about almost everything.

Corpse enjoyed their late night-talks more than anything. He liked to listen to Y/N talk about the things she finds exciting, her hobbies, and her dreams. Hell, she could talk about what she ate for breakfast, and he would still listen with interest.

And even though they haven’t seen each other in person, even though she still hasn’t seen his face, they managed to get really close during those past weeks. For an outside observer (who also didn’t have access to Twitter) they would seem like a couple of very good friends.

But not for Corpse.

He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly did it happen. They were talking one evening and Y/N was telling him about the TV series she had finished watching recently. He listened intently and watched as her facial expressions changed from excited to frustrated, as she was enumerating everything she liked and disliked about the series finale.

And then he suddenly got this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, and simply couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He tried to play it off and act as if nothing changed, but he couldn’t stop his heart from doing backflips whenever she laughed at one of his dumb jokes or called him partner. It was still a running joke between them and among the group of their friends, but there was something in the way she said it that made him instantly smile like an idiot.

He also started paying more attention to the hashtags on Twitter and Instagram. #PartnersInCrime was still rather popular, even though it was a month since anyone last used this phrase on stream. Corpse also found out that #Y/Nforthebride was trending for some time; he even managed to stumble across a few fanarts.

There was this urge to send them to Y/N, but he was too nervous that it would make things awkward between them... After all, he didn’t know how she felt about that whole shipping thing.

That’s why he decided to just leave things between them as they are, and be happy that he’s at least her friend.

Corpse nearly jumped out of his skin, when he was brought back to reality by the sound of an upcoming FaceTime call. Y/N’s photo appeared on his screen, her smiley face which he had assigned as her contact photo. His lips corners curled up in a smile almost unwittingly.

“Hey Y/N/N” he said after answering the call.

“Hi Corpse” she smiled softly upon hearing his voice. Although the screen on her side was dark, she didn’t mind not seeing Corpse’s face. She respected his wish to remain faceless and enjoyed their conversations anyway.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Just editing the new video. I guess I’ll upload it in the morning... but I’m not sure yet.”

“Well let me know then, I wanna be the first one to see it.”

“Sure thing, Corpse” she chuckled, lowering her gaze bashfully. Corpse just looked at her face for a moment, unable to stop smiling to himself. Then he remembered why they were talking in the first place.

“So... have you seen my text?” Y/N sighed at his question but nodded her head slowly. “And what do you think?”

“I don’t know, Corpse...” she ran a hand through her hair in a nervous gesture. “...if that’s a good idea, I mean.”

“Well, it’s been a while. No pressure though, if you don’t wanna play then it’s totally fine.” he quickly clarified. “I just thought it would be fun if you joined us, even if just for a moment. I’m sure everyone would go crazy.”

Her smile widened slightly at his words, but she still didn’t look convinced. Sure, it was tempting to join them. She wanted to do it each time Sean or Felix bombarded her with messages and codes to the lobby, both inviting her to join the group in the game. But then she remembered how people reacted to her appearance in their streams... and suddenly it didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

“We’re gonna play on Polus...” he added after a moment when she still didn’t say anything. “That one map with the planetary base... there’s a lava pit, y’know. Just saying...”

She laughed wholeheartedly at his words, remembering their last game when Corpse jumped into the lava for her.

“Sykkuno’s gonna be there as well” Corpse continued. “And I promise I won’t kill you this time.”

“Even if I’m the last player alive?” she joked.

“Even then, Y/N.”

Corpse stifled a laugh, as she cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes slightly as if trying to spot him in the darkness.

“Are you streaming, Corpse?” she then asked.

“Not yet. I’m gonna start the stream as soon as you say yes, though.”

“Oh c’mon” she laughed at his words “That’s emotional blackmail!”

“Maybe. Is it working?” he asked.

Y/N let out a heavy breath and ran a hand down her face. Corpse watched in anticipation as she seemed to have some internal battle with herself. He hoped that she’s gonna agree, he really missed playing with her.

“All right, then.” she suddenly said, and his breath hitched in his throat. “I’m gonna stay for a few rounds I guess...”

“Wait, really?” he asked, a smile on his face only widening.

“Well, yeah, partner.” she replied, which made his cheeks go warm “Your imposter techniques haven’t been very effective lately... Someone needs to help you out, or you’re gonna lose your title of the king of the Imposters.”

“Oh, is that’s how it is now?” he laughed in fake shock. “I wouldn’t have to worry about losing the title if my accomplice hadn’t left me all alone!”

“All right, all right.” she giggled at his accusations. “Your accomplice is on her way to support you.”

Corpse smiled even wider at the sound of her laughter. Her eyes shined with happiness when she was giggling, which only brought out their E/C color. The fact that his stupid babbling was the reason for her smile was making him feel extremely proud of himself.

“But just so you know... I still have no idea how this map works, so I’m afraid I’m gonna need you to guide me around it...”

“Y’know you could as well just say you want to hang out with me...”

“Corpse!” she laughed, her cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

“Just kidding Y/N” he chuckled at her reaction. “Of course I’m gonna guide you, don’t worry.”

“Okay then...” she said after a moment, looking at the screen again. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Will you send me the code, please?”

“Sure I will, Y/N”

“Okay. See you later, partner” she smiled brightly.

“See you, partner.”

When Y/N ended the call, Corpse let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair, before moving to sit behind his desk.

It was only after he started the stream that he realized he was blushing. Not only because Y/N would join them, but because there was also another thing he wanted to ask her about, but didn’t find the courage to yet...

***

By the time Y/N turned on her computer and started the game, Corpse has already sent her the code, and there was a Discord invite waiting for her as well. She bit her lip nervously as her heartbeat quickened.

Was she nervous? As hell.

She did everything she could to avoid being in unnecessary spotlight since she started receiving those hate messages. Perhaps escaping the problem wasn’t the best solution, but it definitely was a comfortable one. People wouldn’t have a reason to hate on her if she disappeared.

But then she couldn’t say no to Corpse. And truth to be said - she really missed playing with her friends. From what she’d seen on Twitter, the lobby would be filled with those she’d already played with, so she wasn’t that nervous before the game. What she was nervous about though, was how people would react.

Accepting Corpse’s request was something she did due to the sudden rush of courage. And now there was no coming back.

She knew Corpse would understand if she changed her mind... but she heard how excited he was when she had agreed. She couldn’t do it to him.

So, once she’d taken a deep breath and put her headphones on, Y/N accepted the invite and braced herself for the inevitable chaos that was bound to take place in the call. She decided to wait with joining the lobby though - at least until they realize she’s with them.

“..the fuck you’re talking about?!” Felix’s voice was the first thing she heard, which made her roll her eyes with a smile. “It’s not my fault I sound like that! At least I don’t have a liar voice like Rae!”

“HEY!” the girl yelled “I don’t have a liar voice!”

“You do, you’re using it even now!” Jack argued, much to Rae’s dismay.

“What is going on here” Corpse’s deep voice sounded out suddenly.

“Oh, you’re here! Finally” Sykkuno immediately welcomed him with his always happy voice.

“Yeah, sorry that I’m late guys.”

“No worries, man” Pewdiepie spoke up again. “We were just talking about playing the voice card and that you’re basically the only one who can do it.”

“Not fair at all!” Rae chimed in, making Corpse chuckle.

“The voice card...” he hummed after a moment, before adding. “I wouldn’t really say I’m the only one though...”

“Well who else then? Everyone else either starts laughing or have a liar voice” Dave asked, and Rae scoffed at the last words.

“Well what about my guest?”

Y/N inhaled sharply, realizing that now she should probably reveal herself.

“Oh, right! Who you’re bringing man?” Sean asked with curiosity.

That’s when Y/N typed in the game code, and her white astronaut appeared in the lobby.

“Wait, who’s- HOLY SHIT” Sean all but yelled, when realization hit him. Y/N laughed loudly at his reaction, and her voice only seemed to prove to everyone that she really was there.

“KIDDO WHAT THE FUCK” Felix reflected Jack’s response, yelling over his friend.

“Oh my god, hi!”

“What a surprise!” Y/N managed to catch Sykkuno’s words. “It’s so amazing to have you here, Y/N/N!”

“As I live and breathe.” another voice spoke up, and Toast’s little astronaut came face to face with her white bean. “My lifelong nemesis. Back here snap my neck again, huh?”

“Yeah, happy to hear you too, Toast” Y/N giggled at his words, then she adressed the whole group. “Hi guys.”

“Okay I did not expect that in the slightest” Sean laughed happily “You’re here kiddo!”

“I am” she smiled from ear to ear, even though they couldn’t see her.

“Wait- Corpse, is that the thing you had to take care of?” her best friend asked Corpse with suspicious voice.

“Well...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, making everyone laugh.

“That’s so great Y/N! We missed you so much!” Rae thundered over the bickering of the boys. “The game hasn’t been the same without you...”

“Agreed. I suddenly stopped dying.” Toast commented, making her roll her eyes with a laugh.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or fucking scared right now.” Felix laughed nervously. “With Corpse and Y/N? We’re fucked now, guys.”

“I promise I’ll go easy on you, I haven’t played in so long I think I forgot all my strategies...”

“Yeah, sure.” Toast’s forever suspicious voice made her smile wider. “Just don’t kill me in the first roung, okay? I won’t vote you off just stay the fuck away from me you little murderer.”

“Okay, I promise I won’t kill you...”

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing, and the smile remained on her face even when they started the game. It only seemed to widen, when she saw the sign Imposter on her screen.

Only to giggle hysterically when she realized that Toast was the other imposter...

And so the game went on with Y/N and Toast cooperating like perfect serial killers. Corpse did as he promised and guided her through the map, both of them being closely followed by Sykkuno. Because of that she’d just sabotage the map most of the time to give Toast opportunities to kill their friends, but eventually managed to sneak out when her two fellow crewmates were doing their tasks. It just so happen that Pewds was walking past her, and she might’ve accidentally snapped his neck...

“Goddamnit! I knew it! I fucking knew it was you!” Sean yelled once the game was over and Y/N saw the sign VICTORY on her screen, her small character standing next to Toast’s one. He was ejected at some point because Poki managed to walk in on him killing Rae, but Y/N remained undetected until the very end. Perhaps the fact that Corpse was one of the two crewmates who were left alive had something to do wtih it...

“That was rude” Pewds said in a whiny voice, clearly referring to their encounter which led to his death. “I was just happily walking around, doing my tasks like a good crewmate, and then boom! Y/N happened”

“I would say I’m sorry... but I’m really not” she laughed, making Felix gasp in shock.

“That’s what happens when you work with Toast!”

“Good game, Y/N. That was amazing” the man in question said appreciatively.

“Will you finally forgive me for killing you that one time if I say that being imposters with you was cool?” she laughed nervously.

“Actually... Yeah, I guess we can bury the hatchet now. AND we should team up more in the future.”

“Great!”

“Excuse me, what?” Corpse’s voice made the whole lobby laugh. “I don’t remember us cancelling our partnership, Y/N.”

“Corpse...”

“Are you trying to steal my accomplice from me Toast?”

“Well she’s a great partner in crime after all...” Toast deliberately used the phrase, making Corpse gasp.

“Hey! She’s my partner! Find yourself your own, Toast” Corpse joked, making Y/N laugh bashfully, her cheeks warming up at his words.

“Yeah yeah, I remember, don’t worry man. No one’s gonna take your partner in crime away from you...” Toast’s teasing voice made them all laugh, Corpse and Y/N included.

For the next few rounds Y/N played as a crewmate, running around the map with either Corpse or Sykkuno and doing her tasks. During meetings they joked and laughed, and for a moment, she stopped thinking about what people watching her friend’s streams might think about her presence. After all, there was at least a small chance that they didn’t think about it at all, and simply enjoyed watching their favoirte youtubers. Just as she enjoyed playing with her friends.

Oh, and by the way, Corpse kept his promise and didn’t kill her even when she was the last player alive...

It was soon time when everyone started slowly leaving the lobby, having played for over three hours. Y/N also said her goodbyes to the others and promised that she’d join them to play a game called Raft next week.

When she turned her computer off and threw herself on her bed, Y/N immediately grabbed her phone to call Corpse. He answered right away.

“Well hello, partner...” she rolled her eyes with a smile when he accented the last word. “Or should I say, traitor, instead?”

“Corpse... you know I would never betray you...”

“Well how can I be so sure, now that I know how cool it is to be imposters with Toast?” she knew he was joking, she could almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Not nearly as cool as it is with you, Corpse” Y/N grinned from ear to ear when Corpse scoffed.

“I spare your life so many times and that’s what I get in return? You cheat on me with Toast?” he said in disbelief “I’m disappointed, Y/N, I really am.”

“I would never!” she laughed through her words, even though her cheeks were now red because of Corpse’s words. “You’re the best partner in crime, Corpse, I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else!”

Not only in the game, she thought.

“Hmm, alright. Let’s say I believe you.” he said after a moment of thinking.

“I mean it, Corpse...” Y/N said after calming down from her laughter. “I... I really wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Well, first of all for inviting me to today’s game... I really had lots of fun, it was great to play and talk with the others. And I wouldn’t be in the lobby if not for you...” Y/N mumbled, before verbalizing her previous thoughts. “And I also wanted to thank you for just... you know... being my friend. My real life partner in crime. I just wanted you to know I’m really glad I met you...”

Corpse was silent for a good few moments, and Y/N started panicking that maybe she said something wrong, or maybe he found her spontaneous confession funny, or worse, dumb. She was almost ready to somehow laugh it all off, when his voice cut her off.

“Thank you, Y/N. It really means a lot to me too.” he sounded like he had some troubles with speaking, which made Y/N furrow her brows in worry.

“Is everything okay, Corpse?”

“Yeah, I...” he stuttered, then laughed nervously. “I just didn’t expect that and... yeah. It’s not something I hear on a daily basis, especially from someone like you.”

Someone like me?

“But what you said... it’s mutual.” he said after a moment, and Y/N couldn’t stop herself from grinning like an idiot. “You’re the best partner in crime I could ask for. And not only in the game.”

She could as well just pass out there and there...

“So uhm... there was one thing I wanted to ask you...”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if maybe... you know, if you’d have some time... and if you’d want to of course... would you maybe like to visit me here in San Diego?”

Yeah, passing out seems like a good idea.

***

This is not the last part.

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#corpse husband #corpse imagines #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x reader #youtubers x reader #imagine

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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nationalharryleague · 3 years

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Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!

An extra for our babies can be found here!

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thesolferino · 3 years

Text

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.”

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?”

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity.

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.”

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?”

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him.

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task.

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones.

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back.

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone.

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind.

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks.

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you.

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation.

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters.

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained.

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.”

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.”

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.”

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling.

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened.

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message.

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fluff #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader

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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Note

" hey! hey, hey, it's alright! it's okay, my darling/friend/love, i'm here, i've got you... "

With Bo because I like pain ❤️

BO SINCLAIR X READER - SOFTNESS PROMPTS

Masterlist

***

The nights in Ambrose were something you'd had to get used to, to say the least.

You couldn't sleep in silence. Something about it set you on edge, made your heart beat faster. It was like the whole world was holding its breath. Back where you'd come from, there was always a car or ambulance to fill the silence, or else some neighbor with a crying baby or cement shoes. You didn't mind the noise; it reminded you other humans were nearby. You weren't alone.

Out in the country, there was none of that. There was nothing around for miles but roads and forest. All you had to fill the night was cicadas, a dinky little electric fan, and the serial killer snoring softly beside you.

Yeah, the nights in Ambrose were something you'd had to get used to, all right.

How you'd convinced Bo to keep you instead of kill you, let alone let you sleep in bed with him, you had shockingly little clue. It was all a bit of a blur, from the moment you'd set foot in Ambrose to when he'd let you out of his grimy dungeon.

Maybe you had been the one to propose your current position: "maid with benefits," Bo called it, although he sometimes styled it "made with benefits" when he thought he was being really funny. You didn't remember.

Bo had, of course, threatened to kill you if you caused a fuss, but you weren't sure his heart was in it. There were times it seemed like he was saying that more to convince himself than scare you. When he wasn't threatening you, he wasn't that bad ... even good company, sometimes.

At the very least, he made you feel safe at night. There was nothing in the darkness outside that rivaled the darkness in him. Bo Sinclair was the scariest thing in Ambrose—besides Vincent—and you'd already survived him.

Still, sleep often didn't come easily. Thoughts of the people you'd left behind and of how you might escape plagued you often after your bed partner fell asleep. You had so many privileges now, it'd be almost easy. But the thoughts that really kept you up at night were these: you were starting to grow attached to this place. To Louisiana, to the country. To Vincent, to Lester, to Jonesy. To him.

Maybe Bo had been counting on that and that's why you had so much freedom around here. Then again, maybe he really was poised to kill you at any moment.

It was this particular thought that had roused you from half-sleep tonight; this thought that had you staring at the ceiling, heart racing, listening to him breathe deeply and evenly.

...Until he wasn't.

You were so tuned in to his rhythm that you noticed immediately—just one sharper, shuddering breath, then a pause. Then another, paired with a chuff ... then a moan. At first, you wondered if you had woken him up. He always complained when you didn't sleep well, said he could feel it all night. But no...

He settled again, snoring lightly for a few breaths, but the peace was brief. Abruptly, he turned over, facing you. He clutched the sheets tight to his bare chest, brow twisted in a snarl that quickly turned into anguish. His breath came in harsh puffs, like he was trying desperately to control himself even in his dreams.

Then, finally, he broke and whimpered aloud, curling tighter into a ball.

Nightmare.

It was all so quiet you weren't sure you'd have noticed if you were sleeping. As it was, you weren't certain what to do. If you reached out and woke him, would he lash out? Would he be in an embarrassed rage for seeming vulnerable, with you as his only target? You wanted to help, but you hesitated, hand hovering over his shoulder. Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe you oughtta let him have a little suffering of his own.

Your mind was made up for you when he jolted and yelped so loud that you jumped, too, letting out a little yelp of your own. The next instant, he sat bolt upright, breathing hard and howling, babbling incoherently. You only caught "momma" and "daddy" before you sat up.

"Hey!" You kept your voice as soft as you could, hand hovering over his arm again. "Hey, hey, hey, it's all right! Bo—"

Bo turned toward your voice like he was facing a foe, and for a moment, you thought he was going to attack you. Those impossibly blue eyes were blown wider than you'd ever seen them; they glowed in the moonlight and with an unmistakable, childish fear that made your heart thunder painfully.

It was a few beats before you decided he was lucid enough to touch. You laid your hand on his arm, the other on his back, muttering soothingly: "Hey, it's okay, baby, I'm here, I've got you..."

You half expected him to pull away or yell at you. Instead, you could hardly believe how readily he melted into your arms, completely limp with his head against you chest. You buried your fingers in his curls at once, scratching his scalp. He was sweaty and clammy all over, shivering like he was ill. And yet, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hold was crushing, rendering you completely immobile.

"I've got you, it's all right, it was just a dream..." You continued to speak, if only to cover the sound of his shaky panting.

At the very least, you expected him to pull away soon, to tell you to go back to sleep, to turn over and pretend nothing had happened. But he stayed in your arms, breath eventually evening out, grip on you eventually loosening. You simply continued to pet him, kiss his head, even dared to rock him gently back and forth.

Then, the most astonishing thing of all: he spoke.

"So real." His voice was tight and controlled, almost choked. He exhaled hard through his nose. "It was s' damn real."

"I know," you murmured into his hair. "I know." That was the truth—Bo wasn't the only one suffering from night terrors.

At length, you coaxed him back into a horizontal position, though he didn't let go of you. Despite the heat of the night, he clung, refusing to release you till morning.

Yeah, the nights in Ambrose could be rough. Turned out you weren't the only one who needed someone to feel safe.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher x you #house of wax 2005 #slasher fic #written

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kirishoshego · 3 years

Text

Favorite Crime//Kirishima

!!MINORS DNI!! 18+ only

(at this point big shout out to you for coming up with these ideas!) this time under the title "Hey, watch it creep" My second piece for another collab created by@ultimate-astridwriting

Pairing: Yandere!ProHero!Kiri x fem!reader Words:7.6k

Summary: Meeting your fav Pro Hero at a convention was meant to be a one time thing, but coincidentally you somehow lost your most important belongings. And what a coincidence that out of everyone Red Riot himself found it.

TW: yandere, possessiveness, mild manipulation, dc (stalking, mention of death and murder, but not explicitly described, him keeping you locked up only mentioned at the very end, thoughts about it coming sooner), break in, long sex scene on the kitchen table, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, biting, leaving bite marks, Daddy Kink, softdom!Kiri, praise, size kink slightly, unprotected sex

Deafening screams surrounded you as you were waiting for the big double doors to open. Luck, that's what you called it when you got one of the last VIP-Tickets, considering they were sold out in seconds. It was still hard to believe that you were going to meet Red Riot himself, again. You knew him from before his fame, he had saved you once from a small accident you were involved in and ever since then he was your number one hero. By now he had saved hundreds of lives, there was no way he would remember you. And even without a personal backstory he would be your #1.

The black doors opened, revealing two buff looking security guards on each side. They kept a straight face while checking each ticket and searching through the belongings before people who were shining brighter than the sun entered the huge hall. Your excitement was soon replaced with fear, the anxious feeling of something going wrong bubbling up deep inside of the pit of your stomach. There was no chance things shouldn't go well, you tried to calm yourself down. The ticket was bought fair and square, not from a sketchy third partner, you had no weapons in your pockets or purse. But what if the code won't scan? If they think you faked it, call the cops on you, you will be banned from ever coming here again, no chance of ever meeting Kirishima again.

"Madam? Please continue walking, you're holding up the line," the security guard told you as she handed you the VIP bracelet. Every thing was just fine just said to yourself as you stepped into the event that's about to change your life. You were astonished at how colorful the hall was. Food stands were scattered around filling the big room with a comforting smell of everything sweet and savory. People were dressing up as characters from movies, animes and mangas or comics. Merchandise was showcased and sold. Special merch worth more than your rent for the next five month and others so expensive you would probably have to sell your soul for.

Fate, that's what he called it when his eyes landed on you from the raised platform through the tinted windows. While you were admiring some art, he was admiring another piece of art: you. The scene of him saving you played in his head as if it was yesterday, how you clung to him, looking up into his red eyes as if he was some sort of god. Never would he forget your smell, sweet and intoxicating. Kiri still carried the bracelet you gave him as a thank you, apologizing because it was nothing special, even after he told you it was his job, you don't need to give him anything. Now it was his lucky charm, taking it with him wherever he went. Warmness spread through his body when he spotted you buying a T-Shirt of his. You thought about him too.

Kirishima had spent two years searching for you, changing his work-out routine just so he could pass by the crash scene in hope to bump into you again. But how was he supposed to find you if he didn't even knew your name. Luck just didn't seem to be on his side. Until now. You were here, he finally had a second chance to get you and he wasn't going to pass it up. No matter who you were here with or for, he is going to be the only one on you will leave with.

"Red Riot, you with us?" one of the PR people pulled him away from you, back to the conversation they were having. "What? Sorry, of course," he said, looking down again only to find you missing again, silently cursing the man behind him. "You seem a bit lost, everything alright Eiji?" Mina asked him as she stepped beside him, putting her hand on his muscular arm. "Yeah, sorry, just a bit nervous. That's all. Thank you for asking," she offered him a bite of the donut she was currently eating to calm him down a bit, which he gladly accepted, feeling a bit more at ease now. He will find you this time, no doubt in his mind.

Three minutes. That's how long it took Kirishima to find you among everyone else. At first he over looked you, which really wasn't his fault. Someone dressed up as Elias Ainsworth was simply covering your smaller frame, but the moment his searching eyes fell on you his heart skipped a beat. You were here. For him. To see him, to be with him. Only five more people he thought, he could do that.

But now that he had seen you time appeared to be moving argonising slow. Minutes felt like hours and as much as he tried he could barely listen to whatever his fans told him, all his attention, all his thoughts where on you. His smile didn't falter once and he was kind to all, but he couldn't help and rush the small meetings.

"Hey love," his voice was deep, raspy and set of butterflies in your stomach, the warmness of his smile spreading through your body. "Hey Red Riot," your voice was small, quiet, everything it wasn't supposed to be. "Please call me Eijiro," first name basis. Even Kirishima would have been an honour, but he wanted you to call him by his name, had to hear you say it, make him feel like he's finally home. "I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself, your voice feeling a bit more secure. "Y/N, what a beautiful name," the effect his compliment had on you made him smile even more, it appeared to be easy to fluster you. "Thank you, Eijiro," he wanted you to say it over and over and over again, with love and adoration, moan it out while he pleased you better than any other human could even dream about.

"Are you here with someone?" an uneasy feeling made its presence felt. What if you were in love with someone else? „No. I'm here alone, my friend who wanted to tag along fell sick," you explained to him, noticing the tension that had build up in his body now leaving. "How long are you going to stay?" Kirishima asked, feeling less stressed once you revealed you plan on staying till early evening, considering there will be a small conference with the heroes. You didn't want to miss the opportunity of seeing everyone else here.

There was so much he wanted to tell you, ask you, get to know you, keep you with him, he couldn't handle loosing you again. But the photographer cleared his throat, pointing to his clock. He knew there was no way around meeting everyone else, so the faster this was over, the sooner he could be with you.

"I'll see you later," it wasn't a question, it was a statement, a promise. Nobody noticed his hand slipping into your bag when he hugged you goodbye. Nobody noticed how your keys and wallet disappeared into the big inner pockets of his jacket. He didn't do anything wrong, he wouldn't do anything with it, he would simple borrow it for a while, there was nothing wrong with that, right? "I hope so," you told him, sad that you had to part ways.

"Next," called the photographer, after handing you the printed out picture, the frame for it already awaiting you at home.

The interaction between the two of you still didn't answer you wether or not he remembered you. You never stood a chance with him anyway, he is a famous pro hero after all, he already said there was currently no time for someone serious in his life. That was until you sat in between the rather small crowd hanging on every word the heroes said while sitting on the stage. He revealed he had his eyes on someone. Your heart shouldn't hurt as much as it did, but you couldn't deny the feeling of your heart contracting.

The same way his did when he noticed you were gone. He had seen you in the crowd, waved at you when he went on stage, there was merely a tiny time frame of maybe ten seconds where his eyes weren't on you. Kirishima had to calm himself down, his erection growing harder by the minute, watching you wrap your lips around the wooden straw and thinking about how they would feel wrapped around him instead. He felt like fourteen again, mentally slapping himself for being turned on by something as simple as that, which definitely was a first for him. Those few seconds allowed you to slip away. Or at least you tried, considering you had no where to go without your car or money.

All he had to do to find you was walk onto the parking lot. Your cussing could be heard even from afar, telling yourself how stupid you were for not being more careful. "Everything okay?" his sudden appearance startled you and he almost felt bad when he noticed how defeated you look. "Oh, Eijiro. Yeah everything is okay, I'm fine," you brushed off, but the look of a lost puppy written across your face told him otherwise. "I'm not stupid you know?" he raised his eyebrows, leading you to a bench surrounded by small flowers, shielded by a big tree.

"Someone stole my stuff, I don't know how to get home. Also my phone died and my portable charger is in the car, so…“ you told him. A sigh left your lips as you looked at him through your lashes. "Y/N, that's really not a problem. I can drive you home, I'll talk to the organizer and security, maybe someone already found it and gave it to them or they will find it when they clean. It's not the end of the world, okay?," he laid his arm around you and pulled you into him, the heat radiating off of him calming you down. "Ki- Eijiro, that's really kind of you, but I can't-" you missed the flash of anger across his face. He won't let you turn him down. "I won't accept a no,“ before you could say anything he pulled out something from his pocket with a cheesy smile, hoping to lift up your mood.

"I still have your bracelet," he remembered. "You didn't forget about me," disbelieve was waved in your voice as you starred at the small object in his hand. "Never," red eyes took in every little detail about you, from tiny scars to anything that ornamented your face. "Come on, let's get you inside, it's getting a bit cold. I will talk to the staff and you can grab something to eat from our buffet," offered the tall man. He just wanted you to be happy, wanted you to feel save with him, wanted you to trust him. "Thank you," and you did, how could you not when he was basically a sunshine walking on two legs.

Whatever you offered, he declined it, telling you he had to go this way anyway. Which was the half truth, considering he should have turned right about twenty minutes ago instead of left. He just didn't want you to feel bad. Kirishima had asked you all sorts of thing, some more personal than others. Suspicious was the last thing he wanted you to be right now. It’s not like he didn’t care about your favorite color or band, but right now all he wanted to know was wether or not you’re seeing someone. You didn’t.

As you went to step out of his car Eijiro stopped you, asking for your number so he could text you if they find anything. You were more than happy to comply, smiling when he wished you a good night, texting you once he got home:

Meeting you again was awesome, I’m glad I have you back in my life :)

A week had almost passed and you found yourself texting the Pro Hero more and more. They found your belongings the next day, so Kiri offered to drop them by within the next few days. He had to find a reason to text you longer, had to build a relationship with you.

The red haired man send you a bouquet of flowers and a cute stuffed animal that reminded him of you after you told him your ex was found murdered. His body crushed like a grape. You had told you weren't really sad, he wasn't kind to you in the past, but it still didn't leave you unbothered. Probably got mixed up in a gang fight, his addiction wasn’t unknown and the case was quickly closed by the police.

Something he didn't want to find out while texting was that you were going on a date tonight. Everything between the two of you was going so great and now another man ruined it. You could have said no, but it wasn't your fault, you simply didn’t know any better. It was your dates fault for thinking he could try to take you away from him. Another reason why he had to keep you save from the outside.

He stood me up you texted him, feeling annoyed by the fact your date wasn't even mature enough to let you know it won't work.

I'm sorry. He didn't text you or anything? Of course he didn't, Kirishima thought to himself, watching the burning car. What a pity that his brakes didn't work. You should always check before you go somewhere.

No, nothing. He didn't even reply to my last message

Wait for me love, I'll be there shortly x

It was easy for him to get you to share your location with him. All he wanted was to look out for you, make sure you're safe when he isn't near you. The world is so cruel and you're his friend, that's all he had to say to you. Kirishima loved how naive you were just for him.

Usually you paid attention, don't give away too much, don’t give up the control you had with your surroundings. But it's different with him. He wasn't sure if you even noticed how much you trusted him, how easy it was for you to put your life in the hands of Red Riot. Misusing that trust would never pop into his head, he loved you for so long now, but he was scared he will lose you again. He might just has to keep you to him entirely. Would you let him? Or did he had to take you?

When he arrived at the luxurious restaurant his breath hitched in his throat as his red eyes landed on your gorgeous figure, clad in the most beautiful piece of clothing he had ever seen.

"Hey love," he greeted you, feeling your arms wrap around his torso, the smell of your perfume hitting his nostrils. "Hey Eijiro, you didn't need to come here. I could have just gone home and eat some take out," you explained, his hug around you tightening. It made you feel warm, not knowing his grip turned harder out of anger. Why would you always tell him about the things you could do without him. Every time he offered to be with you you would say no, tell him you didn't want to bother him. Did you not realize how in love he was? Or did you and you simply didn't feel the same? The thought of you turning him down made him even angrier, to a point of you squeaking out that you couldn't really breath. He apologized with a laugh, complimenting you. You didn't even got to say no after he told you to go inside again to have the date with him instead, as the tall man already pushed you through the door.

All he had to do was drop his name, a table ready within five minutes and an appetizer already awaiting you. As much as you would love to call this a date, you had to remind yourself that he was seeing someone. Never would you try and get between them, possibly destroying their happiness. His happiness. The sorrowful reminder of the two of you just being friend still stung. Even though you thought you had convinced yourself you only liked him as nothing more than that.

"They gave me your things by the way, they’re in my car. I would like to drive you home, is that okay?" he liked to give you the illusion of having a choice. "Are you sure? I can take the bus," you offered, knowing how far away his cottage was. "Nonsense, come on," he held the door open for you yet again, his eyes wandering to your beautiful ass that he would love to feel in his big hands, groping it and leaving his print in red on its flesh.

The car ride was filled with music and small talk, telling him about your day and your plans for the rest of the week and visa versa. When his fingers, draped over the shift gear, slightly brushed your thigh you shifted in your seat, turning your legs away from him. Kirishima's hand turned red, white spots appearing, caused by the tight grip on his shift. It almost cracked the leather and metal.

"So how are you and your... partner?" way to go, you thought to yourself. You knew a whole lot about him by now, but you have never talked about his sexuality. As far as you knew he could be gay. And because he never talked about the person he is seeing you couldn't just assume anything about them.

Why were you suddenly asking about Bakugou? Was he wrong about you? Where you like his last lovers? It didn't matter to him that they used him to get close to his best friend because he used them as well. But you? It felt like part of him died.

"Bakugou is just fine," his jaw was clenched and as much as he tried to keep his happy face on for you, the thought of you touching yourself to the thought of his best friend and not him? Craving Bakugou, wishing for his lips to be on yours, his arms wrapped around you, not Kirishima's. "Oh..." his eyes flickered to your face for a few seconds before returning to the road, seeing a surprised look painted on your face. "I didn't know the two of you were a thing! That's great though," while your lips were curved upwards your eyes didn't match. "What?" now it was his turn to be bewildered. "I mean, I heard the rumors of some fans shipping you, I didn't know they were true! Don't worry your secret's save with me," his body language told you how much he disliked the current situation and you didn't mean to push him.

"No... Wait. I am so confused right now. Why do you think I'm dating my best friend?" he asked you, turning into your street. Once you explained your train of thoughts his booming laugh filled the vehicle, relieve filling his whole body and feeling a ton being lifted off of his shoulders. „Oh, hahaha no. No, I'm not seeing anyone. What I meant at the con was- oh shit," the car stopped abruptly, his big arm immediately going across your chest to stop you from being pushed forward even with the seat belt on.

"Wha-" your eyes had followed his gaze, spotting whatever had him looking like he had seen a ghost. Your door was ajar and you spotted a cornice across your window from inside. It was dark but the street lights allowed you to see just enough. The shoe cabinet in your entrance was knocked over, jackets laying on the floor. The man next to you ordered you to wait in his locked car before he went inside, his quirk activated.

If the situation wasn't so dangerous your mouth would be watering at the sight of Red Riot in action. A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped your lips once he came back in sight. "Nobody is in there but I don't think it's save," his raspy voice told you as he opened your door, his hand finding place in the small of your back as you went inside. "You should pack your things and stay with me for a while, just so we're sure nobody is trying to harm you in particular," he let you know. "Why would anyone try to get to me? I don't have a useful quirk. My parents aren't rich, neither am I, I don't hold any power," you said, his hand stopping you from cleaning. "We should call the police. If you move anything it might mess up evidence on it," he knew what he was talking about, he had experienced these type of situations plenty of times. "Didn't your ex recently die? What if there is a crazy lover going around? Maybe he still owns someone money. You know you're save with me Y/N. I'm not that far away from you, your work is right around the corner, just a different direction," he saw a small part of you still hesitating to accept his offer, while another part of you wanted to be with him.

"I promise you, as long as you stay with me, nothing bad will happen to you," Kirishima would never let anything happen to you, never. He couldn't forgive himself if he let something hurt you. "That would be nice,“ you didn’t know the weight your words carried. It was like a modern Beauty and the Beast, only this time the Beast was already in love with his Beauty.

It worked :) Candy is send, should arrive soon.

It did, tastes delicious.

2k and a VIP pass to the next con was all it costed him to convince a small-time criminal he had caught before to break into your house and cause some chaos. Nobody was going to get hurt and he would never get in trouble for it promised Kirishima. And he would hold that promise dear to him. Because if that guy would get caught so did the hero, who had a lot more on the line. Which luckily for Eijiro that guy didn't think about much.

An hour later you stood in a huge entrance floor. Dark marble floors radiating warmth, caused by underfloor heating, welcoming the pacing of your feet as you slipped out of your jacket. "Eijiro, this place is beautiful! I might never leave again," you laughed to convey your joke. "You can stay forever if you want," as if you had a choice, he thought to himself, glad you liked your new home. He had renovated it a bit in the last week, making sure everything was the best of the best.

"Why don't you slip into something comfy? I'll do so too and then we can watch a movie if you like?" he offered and even though you felt tired watching a movie with him did sound like a great idea. He showed you around the house, explaining how Bakugo had helped with most of the interior design.

„I just don’t have an eye for that, but Katsuki? He’s brilliant,“ he explained, stopping at a wall covered in pictures. All of his friends had gifted him pics when he moved, so he decided to dedicate a wall to them. Pointing at a photograph of the two of you set off butterflies in your stomach. „That’s my newest addition, you look so beautiful here,“ Mina made that picture of the two of you, he had wrapped you in his jacket before walking back inside to talk to the security guards. (Y/e/c) eyes were fixed on him, laughing about a joke he made, his hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

„This is the bathroom, if you need anything, just call me. Conditioner and everything is in there, feel free to use whatever,“ Kirishima offered, laying out a warm towel for you after you asked to hop under his shower.

"Please don't laugh. I thought I grabbed a different shirt but I must have been a bit lost in my thoughts," you told him, feeling heat rising up in your cheeks. When going through your bag you were so sure you had grabbed a plain big shirt, but it turned out to be the one you had bought at the con. It's not like he didn't knew you were a fan, it was just weird to wear his merch in front of him. "I think it's really cute," the man clad in a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose red shirt patted the spot next to him, a drink and soft blanket waiting for you already.

He had been drawing spiral patterns all over your upper legs and while his eyes starred at the screen he didn't had clue what the movie was about as his brain was corrupted by thoughts surrounding you. Only when a sex scene on screen caused you to shift ever so slightly in your position did his day dreams falter. Whatever the people were doing before, right now he had trapped her in between him and the wall. His hand was around her throat while his knee gave her some sort of relieve and whispering dirty things into her ear.

"Thinking about me doing that to you princess?" he asked you sweetly, pulling your attention from the suddenly very interesting bottle cap. Kirishima's lust got the best of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He had to have you in every way possible and as much as he wanted to wait, to get you used to everything, introduce you to the situation you still didn't knew you were in- he couldn't. "Hm?" you probably misheard him, you weren't really paying attention to be fair.

"I asked you," he grabbed your chin with his hand, thumb on your chin while making you look into his eyes. You hadn't noticed but his whole demeanor changed. His bright eyes now as dark as red wine, catching every movement of your muscles, his body tense, appearing like a predator ready to jump on its prey.

"If you think about me touching you?" Kirishima finished, knowing very well that you did. He almost fucked up a job because the sight of you touching yourself moaning out his name barely left him any piece of sanity. You had read a story about him, a very dirty one as well and fuck how wet you were, so needy and helpless, mind filled with him and him alone.

He couldn't bare the thought of you having any secrets, something he didn't know. Kirishima had to know everything, what you eat, your favorite drink, what type of gifts you appreciate, your favorite type of book genre, movie genre, what TV you liked to watch. Where you more of a dog or a cat person? Or both, maybe neither? What made you happy, what made you sad, how can he lift up your mood? It wasn't hard to get access to your laptop. Okay, well it was, but he had watched a friend hack into someone's stuff before, for another mission and remembered how to do it. Just in case. And oh my, you were such a good girl for him. Saved all of your passwords, your history, your Netflix, youtube, tumblr. Everything laid out for him, because you wanted him to find it, find out everything he wanted. He loved you more and more every second.

You were beneath him within seconds, his large frame towering over yours and trapping you. His warm breath was fanning over your face, eyes flickering between yours and your lips while a few strands of loose red hair fell into his face.

"Eiji-" as you attempted to sit up again he pressed your upper body down without any effort using his hand, feeling your heartbeat quicken. His sweatpants appeared to be much tighter all of the sudden and you couldn't help but peak down slightly, the sight of his dick print, revealing his impressively thick girth, the length hidden through the shirt he was wearing.

"My eyes are up here," he chuckled, face getting even closer. "Eijirou, I don't think we should do anything indiscreet," you told him, pushing yourself forward by your feet in a feeble attempt to escape. Only to have him flip you over on your stomach, one hand wrapped around your wrists and holding them above your head.

„Don’t fight it," he whispered in your ear, grinding down on your ass, enough to send pleasure through your whole body, goose bumps appearing on your skin. "We should-" you tried to form a complete sentence, but his lips on your neck were thwarting your plan, especially after they found your sweet spot.

"Hm?" he asked, peppering more kisses along your delicate skin, your senses heightening when his sharp teeth were dragged along it. His soft lips curled up into a small smirk as another moan hit his ears, before his teeth sunk into your neck. The scream escaping your lips was a something in-between pain and pleasure. And without a thought you had pushed your ass into him, your throbbing cunt begging for attention. Shame clouded your head as you came to realize how turned on you were by the currently obscure scene you had found yourself in.

"Do you want me to stop?" his tone let you know that there was only one right answer, his other hand slipping underneath you to tease you. The tip of his finger ghosted over your clit, earning a whine from your side. As you tried to push yourself down to create some sort of friction he pulled away, clicking his tongue.

"I asked you a question Y/N,“ his husky voice reminded you, kissing the fresh bite mark and caressing it with his sharp tongue. "No," you breathed, the lust your body felt in every inch betraying your mind, which was barely functioning at this point.

"Tell me you want me and I'll put the world to your feet," he meant it, all he needed to hear was that you wanted him, he needed, craved, starved for your acceptance of him as the man by your side. "Eijiro, I want you," you whispered, feeling hot and cold at the same time, craving his touch on you but also to disappear in between the cushions. Surely you had thought about this plenty of times but telling him, talking to him like that was new, unknown.

"Come on princess, don’t tease daddy and tell me what you want," he groaned into your ear, nibbling at its lobe. Rough hand groped your ass, kneading it, fingertips gliding across the swell, down between your legs, going all the way up only to skip the spot you needed him at the most. "I want you, please," he had heard you just fine the first time but he couldn't get enough of it, needed more.

"You can do better," he was more of a pleaser but now that he had you, he had to take his time with you, had to have you to submit to him. "Please Daddy, I need you, I want you," the pitiful tone of your voice surprised you, but the reaction of his body let you know just how much he liked it. It was impossible to miss the twitch of his length against you or feel his hands tightening, the sound of a heavy breath escaping his lungs.

Once again you found yourself facing him, being pulled onto his lap, on hand on your hips and the other one caressing your face. The grip on your chin wasn't harsh, just strong enough to keep you in place. His soft thumb stroked over your bottom lip, pupils dilated as he watched it bounce back in place and glistering from your saliva.

If he wasn't in love with you already he definitely would be by now. He didn't give you the chance to say another word as his lips came crushing into yours, molding together perfectly. It felt electrifying and intense, a kiss filled with passion and hunger. Wandering hands grabbed your ass and as a soft moan graced his ears he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tips colliding and swirling around one another. Kirishima pulled you closer to him as your hand went into his hair, the other one tugging on his shirt.

"So eager," he whispered against your lips, happy to comply to your wishes and pulling off his shirt in one swift motion, your eyes not knowing where to look at first. Your attention was quickly occupied again by his hand slipping under your shirt, going along your side, up to your chest while he once again interlocked your lips.

The moans slipping into his mouth as his thumb circled over your nipple were fuel on fire and as much as he enjoyed taking his time with you, he will have all the time in the world with you from now on. The big man had waited so ling for this moment, had dreamed about this situation, spend so many hours thinking about it during the day. His mind was filled with you as was his heart, how you laugh, how you talk, how you taste. Oh, he had to know how you taste and he knew if he waited one too many seconds he might destroy you with the lust inside of him.

Strong arms secured you as he stood up, walking over to his dinning table and sitting you down on it. „It would only be fair for you to get undressed too,“ Kirishima mumbled against your lips, hands already at the hem of it and pulling it up. A few curses fell from his lips as he saw that you weren’t wearing a bra under the shirt. Pushing you down gentle his lips landed on your neck again, kissing the slightly swollen mark. He couldn’t help it, the view was so hot, he had to give you another one. You’re his, only his, nobody will take you away now. Nobody can. And even if they dared to try he will rip them apart.

As the red haired man continues to work his way down, he stopped at your naked chest. While giving one nipple bites, kisses and soft flicks of his tongue, the other one got attention through his hands, pinching and circling them. The movements had you gasping for ear, your legs wrapping around him and pulling him into you.

„Daddy I need more,“ you whimpered, making him kiss the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, before he stopped above the only fabric left on you. Your underwear was discarded in a second, the sound of fabric ripping made you look at him. His ruby red eyes were fixated on your glistering cunt, licking his lips as the thought of your pussy on his tastebuds.

Taking a seat in front of you it looked like you were the dessert he had been craving for years, never finding the right one. But now here he was, ready to devour you and hear you moans, have you gush over him. „Legs over my shoulders,“ he tapped them, grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs as you obeyed his order. „Good girl,“ Eijiro groaned, kissing the spots close to your core before his lips finally met your clit.

The cunnilingus he gave you made you feel like you were send to heaven and back. His sharp tongue knew exactly what to do, knew where to be at the right time. Nails dug into your skin and you were sure by the end of it Kirishima’s marks would be prominent for the next week. The small amount of pain intensified your pleasure and the first orgasm crashed down on you faster than ever. You were hoping for him to give you a small break, your whole body on fire but he was far from being done.

Wrapping his lips around your sensitive spot he sucked slightly, pulling a sinful moan from the back of your throat which caused his rock hard dick to twitch in his grey sweatpants. Not yet, he thought, slipping a long, thick finger inside you, while lapping at your clit.

You didn’t expect to feel so filled by just two of his finger inside you. But it came to no surprise as just the palm of his hand is as big as your whole, two fingers as thick as four of yours. Two minutes, that’s how much it took to make you cum for the first time, moaning out his new nickname and pulling on his hair. Kirishima didn’t give you time to come, a break was the last he would think of in this moment. Before you knew it another wave of pleasure crashed down upon you, making your legs clamp down. Well, you tried, but he didn’t really had to try to keep them apart.

„Does that feel good? You like that?“ the question was rhetorical, your body had answered it long ago. Your fourth orgasm was about to hit anytime now as his mouth was glistering from your wetness, licking it all up. He wouldn’t really call it mocking, but it amused and aroused him at the time seeing you so fucked, not able to form a full sentence, yet alone answering his question.

And there it was. The knot in your stomach released itself, eyes rolling in the back of your head, a single tear sliding down the side of your face. Slurred words, a mixture of curse words, affection and his name made him feel as powerful as ever. He did this, only with his fingers and tongue.

„Tsk, would you look at that princess, you made a mess,“ was the first thing you heard after you came down from your high, the white spots slowly disappearing. With a heavy breath you looked down, watching as his cleaned his lower lip with his thumb before licking your juice off of it. Eijiro was right: he was wet, drenched even. Your lover made you squirt and the look of ecstasis written across his face was something you could never forget. „I’m sorry-,“ before you could say another word he pulled you up to him with his hand around your neck, locking your lips and pulling your lower body closer to him, allowing his now freed dick to slip in between your folds. Dragging it slowly up and down made you jolt and whine against his lips, trying to pull away as electric like shocks went through your veins, the pleasure overwhelming.

„That was the hottest thing I have seen. If I wasn’t this horny for you I would make you squirt again,“ he told you, chuckling slightly when he saw your eyes widening at the sight of his boner.

You knew he was big, at least nine inches, but it was his thickness that had you speechless. Without the foreplay there was no way he would fit inside of you and even now you knew he had to be slow at first or else you might pass out.

„Don’t worry, I will be gentle… At first,“ a small smirk graced his face, his tip now at your entrance. Laying down his soft sweatpants before laying you down he made sure you were laying comfortably. Thighs against his stomach, knees on his shoulders with his body towering over yours, almost touching but leaving enough space for Kirishima to look at him slowly slipping inside of you.

Drawing small circles on your thigh and clit helped soothing you as he went in inch by inch. He was taken by surprise when you pushed yourself onto him, taking in the last couple of inches at once. „So you want it that way huh? All you had to do was ask,“ with that he was lost in his own word.

His thrusts weren’t fast at first, they were hard, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again. Eijiro either went with a rhythm of song stuck in his head or did whatever felt right, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop. As quick as you put your legs down to lessen the immense pleasure, as quick he had both of your ankles in his hand, putting them over his right shoulder. Thick fingers caressing the soft flesh of your neck, feeling your pulse against the tip of his fingers, before wrapping around your throat completely. With the current position your pussy was even tighter, giving him the opportunity to hit deeper than before. Whenever he was balls deep inside of you wet slapping sounds filled the room, just like a mix of the moans of the two of you. Your scents mixed together, his room spray not standing a chance, even though your favorite smell hit your nose once in a while. What a funny coincidence, you thought later on.

„M about to cum,“ you slurred, a particular hard thrust sending you over the edge yet again, your throbbing cunt adding to his lust. „Who do you belong to? Who’s your daddy?“ He grunted, as his hips were snapping again and again. Your neck was released for a short moment to wipe away the few tears at the corner of your eye that just spilled over the edge.

„You, ah, you Eijiro,“ the o was quickly blending with yet another moan. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was a son of Eros. He definitely looked like a half god the way he was pounding into you, body glistering from the film of sweat and red strands of hair framing his face perfectly.

„That’s right, you’re mine. Only I can fuck you this good, only I can love you, only I can touch you,“ he said through gritted teeth, his possessiveness coming through. Kirishima could feel himself getting closer and closer to his own orgasm, dick twitching and hips titubating as your walls tightened around him.

„Mh, my good girl, just a little more, you can take it,“ you shook your head, feeling slightly dizzy and have one thought in your head: his name. There wasn’t even energy left in you to close your mouth properly. Something he saw as an invitation, his middle and ring finger slipping inside, your moans sending soft vibrations through them straight to his still hard length buried inside your cunt.

So many possibilities for him to cum on. You would look so pretty with his cum on your stomach, or when it drips from your face onto your chest. Your ass would look delicious that way too. One day he will find out what his favorite view is, but the first has to be special. He had to fill you up, mark your insides, had to make you his out and out.

„Let go, it’s okay. Daddy got you,“ finally. Your nails dug into his skin, vision blurry as your body started shaking from the last wave of pleasure for the night. He let go himself at the same time, pumping you full with his cum, a few lazy strokes following before he halted, his cock still inside you. Deep, shaky breath helped him come down from his dream like orgasm. Your pussy was magic, nobody could convince him otherwise. Maybe this won’t be your last time for tonight, maybe he will have you again once you laid down in bed. For now all he wanted to do was to hold you close, care for you and make you feel his love for you.

Pulling you into his strong arms he pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few sips himself before slowly letting the cool liquid hit your mouth and throat. Soft words of affirmation were whispered in your ear while he petted your head, massaging your scalp softly and kissing your forehead.

„You did so well for me baby,“ Kirishima mumbled against your lips, making sure you took another sip of water. You were still in bliss when he carried you to the bathroom, filling up the bathtub and sitting down with you between his thick thighs. While he was gently cleaning you realization hit him: Finally, after all this time you were with him. This wasn’t another dream. This was reality.

It broke his heart to see you cry the next morning when all the doors were locked. You told him you loved him too and you never would want to leave his side under no circumstances. He believed you, you would never lie to him. But the outside was too big, too scary for you. The intruder could still be after you and try to take you away from him. Kirishima knew you will forgive him eventually, after all he loves you and that should be enough for you. He is enough for you. You will understand eventually. He couldn’t risk loosing you again.

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