#also remember that this was the same band that just a record before would like...

[munsonthings86]

sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time

warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve

an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)

wc: 6.0k

“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.

"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".

In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.

Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.

The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.

"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.

He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.

From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.

His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.

You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."

You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.

Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.

He always felt at home there.

Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.

"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.

"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.

"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.

"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.

Looking at Steve was hard.

In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.

The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.

"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.

"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.

"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.

Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.

The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.

But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.

When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.

Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.

Then you came.

Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.

Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.

Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.

Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.

And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.

"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.

"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.

"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.

"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".

A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.

"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.

Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”

“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.

“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.

“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.

You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.

At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.

Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.

How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.

"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.

And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.

With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.

Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.

Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.

You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.

When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.

But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.

Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.

Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.

Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.

You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.

Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.

"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.

Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"

You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.

"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.

"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."

The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.

"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"

Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."

When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.

"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.

He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.

"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"

He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.

Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."

"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.

A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.

"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."

"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.

These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.

And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.

"Ready to eat?"

"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."

You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.

"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I'm sure it does."

His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.

"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.

You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.

"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.

Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.

"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.

"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.

"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.

"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.

"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.

"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.

He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.

Screw that, he was in love with you.

"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.

Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.

Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.

"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.

"Kiss me."

Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.

His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.

The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.

Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.

"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.

message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3

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[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Faithfully

Pairing: EddieMunsonxFemReader

Summary: This is in response to a request I received. I hope I did it justice.

Can you maybe write one where Eddie is now a famous rockstar and him and the reader are married and have been together since high school and now girls are throwing themselves at him and saying to his wife he wouldn't want her in a while anymore cause he will get tired of her and she's distant and when he finds out he assures her he wont and he loves her and they make love

Warning: 18+ only

You paced around the house nervously, wiping down surfaces you’d already wiped a dozen times, fluffing the throw pillows that were already fluffy, and checking your reflection in the mirror four times too many. Eddie was getting home today, a week long break from the tour, and you were anxious as hell about it. You were trying to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect. 

You had been on tour with him for a while. You used to love traveling with Corroded Coffin. There was nothing like watching Eddie on that stage, in his element, his passion radiating off of him in waves. Your eyes would follow his fingers as they moved along the guitar strings. Those long, thick digits that you were so damn nimble and talented, something your body knew intimately. Those long, dark waves would flow and tumble around him, his skin glistening under the bright lights of the stage and all you could think about was running your tongue along every single inch of him after the show. 

Eddie and you had been together for nine years and married for three. You started dating when you were fifteen. You vividly remembered the first time you saw him as he sauntered into English class, running late, something you quickly learned was common for him. Jesus, he had been the most beautiful guy you had ever laid eyes on and that was still true. You often pinched yourself just to verify that this was the reality you were living. 

Corroded Coffin had been offered a record deal when you guys were twenty and Eddie had insisted on getting married before they headed off on their first tour. You’d happily agreed, knowing you were young but also certain that he was the only guy you wanted to spend your life with. So, what did it matter how old you were? When you knew, you knew. 

You’d had a small ceremony out by Lover’s Lake, just your nearest and dearest. It was a simple event, with a reception outside, the rest of the band providing the music, but it had been absolutely perfect. You couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than what you had. Remembering that day still brought a smile to your face.

But lately…well, you weren’t sure if those vows you made, ‘til death do us part’, were going to be kept. Not on your end. You loved Eddie even more today than you did on the day you made that promise. But a month ago, you’d told him you needed to leave the tour. He’d been upset and confused, but you explained that it was just getting to be a lot and you thought you needed some normalcy.

That was a lie. What you needed was to get away from everything that kept reminding you that he might not be yours forever. You knew he was a rockstar and there were certain things that came with the territory of that lifestyle. But damn if it wasn’t hard watching girls throwing themselves at him night after night, chucking their bras and panties on stage, pressing their breasts against him after the show, whispering offers of what they would do for him in his ear. 

You couldn’t blame them. Look at him. Those eyes the color of molten chocolate, so deep you just wanted to dive in. Those lips, full and luscious, screaming to be kissed. Those beautiful waves that left you itching to bury your fingers in them. That voice that was both raspy and sensual while being velvety and comforting at the same time. And the way he played guitar…well, it didn’t leave much to the imagination of how that would translate in the bedroom. 

But when the girls started cornering you, whispering all kinds of awful things. They told you that it was only a matter of time before he got tired of you. They asked you how long you thought you could keep him before he realized that you were holding him back. They hissed that you were just some small town girl and he deserved more. You heard them, asking their friends what he was doing with you, someone who wasn’t pretty enough or sexy enough for him. 

It all got to be too much. You couldn’t take it anymore. You found yourself staring in the mirror, criticizing every single thing about yourself. You looked at the girls that crowded them after the show, comparing yourself to them and finding yourself wanting. What was he doing with you still? How long before he looked at you and wondered why he was still with you when he could have any girl he wanted? He could have supermodels or actresses…how could you ever compare?

The door opened and you swallowed hard, your hands trembling as your anxiety skyrocketed at the thought of seeing him. What if this was the moment? You hadn’t seen him for a month. What if he’d found someone else? What if he was coming home to tell you it was over?

Eddie appeared, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of you. He instantly dropped his bags and closed the distance between you, sweeping you into his arms and off your feet as he spun around with you. Setting you down, his lips peppered your face with kisses.

“Shit, princess,” he breathed, taking your face in his hands. “It’s so good to see this face. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

You froze, rigid in his arms, terrified to allow his words to mean what you hoped. All of those fears, those toxic words, sweeping through your veins like poison. Clearing your throat, you backed away from him and hurried into the kitchen. 

“Uh…I made dinner,” you explained quickly, opening the oven and grabbing mitts to pull out the casserole you’d put together this afternoon. 

Eddie slid up behind you as you set the casserole on the counter, his arms sliding around your waist. His lips pressed against the skin just below your ear and you shivered, your body responding to his touch like always whether you wanted it to or not. 

“While that smells amazing, I was thinking we could have dessert first,” he whispered, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing your legs to tremble. “It’s been way too long with just my right hand for company. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”

You spun in his arms, offering him a half-hearted smile. Desperate for something to put between the two of you, you reached for the casserole dish, forgetting it was hot. You yelped and jumped back from it, right into him, your back colliding with his chest. 

Eddie’s hands were instantly on your arms, bringing them up so he could look at your hands. They weren’t bad, just slightly red. You’d barely touched it. He gently led you to the sink, running the cold water and placing your hands under it, his fingertips, calloused from years of guitar playing, moving over your skin, so soft and rough at the same time. 

“Is that better?” he asked softly, his chest still pressed against your back and now something else was pressing into you and your breath caught. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s move this to the bedroom so I can kiss all of your injuries away.” His lips pressed against the hollow just above your shoulder and you swallowed hard. “I think I better kiss every inch of you just to be sure.”

“I don’t want dinner to get cold,” you protested, using your arm to push him back so you could move around him. You opened the cabinet, pulling down two plates and those large hands landed on your hips, spinning you so your lower back was pressed against the counter. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” he asked, his head dipping slightly as he searched your eyes as if he could find the answer inside of them. 

“What?” you squeaked and then cleared your throat, shrugging. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get dinner ready. I thought you’d be hungry after all that travel.”

“Oh, I’m hungry, but not for dinner,” Eddie grinned. 

“Well…I am hungry for dinner,” you remarked, attempting to turn away from him again but he lunged, placing his hands on either side of the counter, caging you in. 

“Uh-uh princess. You’re not getting away that easily. Something is obviously wrong. You barely talk when I call. I ask how things are going and all I get is a fine. I ask what you’ve been up to and all I get is nothing. I ask when you’re coming back on tour and you won’t give me an answer. I come home after a month of being apart and you don’t even seem excited to see me.” He paused, his eyes dropping before slowly raising back up to meet yours and your heart feels like it will shatter when you notice those beautiful brown eyes sparkling with tears. “You’re scaring the shit out of me. Did I do something? Are you mad at me? Are you done with me? I mean…please talk to me. I’ve been losing my mind running through what it could be.”

Placing your hands on his arms, you nibbled on your bottom lip. You didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t want to say what those girls had said. What if he hadn’t thought about it before but now you put the thought in his head? What if he realizes, because of you, that he’s better off single while he’s on the road? What if he’s already been with someone else? Do you really want to know? Would it be better to live in denial? Because, if it’s true…if he has, you know you will never recover from that, your heart will be destroyed forever.

“Princess,” he urged softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “Please, just tell me. There is nothing you can’t tell me.”

You inhale and exhale slowly, “Eddie, have you slept with other girls while I’ve been gone?”

His head rears back, quickly followed by his whole body, his eyes wide with shock and…is that anger? He stares at you as if he doesn’t recognize you and it guts you. Eddie’s hand runs through his hair, he opens his mouth, closes it, turns from you, turns back. It’s as if he has no idea how to respond and you’re dying inside wondering why. 

“It should be a simple yes or no question,” you whisper.

“Oh, should it?” he demands. “What is simple about you believing that I would betray you like that? What is simple about you thinking I am some douchebag who would do that to you? What is simple about you not thinking I love you enough? What? You think you left and it was just different girls every night?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Fuck. How can you think that? We’ve been together for nine goddamn years, sweetheart,” he huffed, slamming his fist down on the table, causing you to jump. Eddie noticed and instantly closed the distance between you, his hands cradling your face. “How can you think that? I mean, why? What have I ever done to make you doubt me?”

“Nothing,” you answered, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “But…it would be a lot of temptation for any guy. You have gorgeous women throwing themselves after you night and night. You have supermodels and actresses who would jump at the chance and I don’t blame them. I mean, look at you. What guy wouldn’t be tempted by that?” “This guy,” he stated, his hands gripping her face firmly. “This guy isn’t tempted. I have never been tempted. You know why? Because I already have the most gorgeous girl. I already have everything I want, right here. Why would I ever do anything to fuck this up?”

“But you don’t,” you sighed. “Eddie, I can’t compare to those other girls. I’ve heard them. They wonder what I’m doing with you. They’ve told me it’s only a matter of time before you get tired of the small town girl. It’s only a matter of time before you look around and realize what you could have if you dropped the extra baggage.” You paused, the lump of tears in your throat threatening to choke you. “I mean…you’re a rockstar now, babe and what am I?”

“You are my everything,” he replied, bending down and scooping you into his arms. “Let me show you.”

You don’t protest as he carries you to your bedroom, the bed you’ve been sleeping alone in for the past four weeks. Eddie lays you on your back, bracing himself above you, his hands on either side of your head. Those beautiful eyes that always bring you such calm are gazing into yours. 

“Princess, you are not baggage. You are my heart, my very soul and I couldn’t exist without you,” he murmurs, his lips molding against yours with ever so gentle pressure as if seeking permission, ensuring you’re okay. “I’m a small town guy.” His lips trace over your cheeks, following the line of your jaw. “I haven’t become a different person.” Those lips are now leaving a trail along the side of your neck. “I am the same guy who is, and always be, hopelessly in love with you.” 

Your lips part, your breath coming in quick, soft gasps as Eddie pushes your shirt up, his lips moving across the skin of your stomach. One of your hands tangles loosely in his hair as you realize how much you’ve missed this, his touch, his lips, his presence. Your body craved him. He was like a balm to your soul, a fix for whatever ails you. You’d run, fearing the next time you had to see him, but damn if it hadn’t been painful to not have him near. Your entire body was calming, all your muscles loosening, tendons relaxing, as he explored your body. 

He pulled your shirt over your head, his eyes devouring every inch of you. “Fuck princess, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this soft skin.” His fingers trailed over the tops of your breasts, pulling the cups down and away to release them. “I’ve missed this beautiful face.” His lips pressed softly against your forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, and chin. His hand trailed down your stomach, fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings and panties. You moaned as two of his fingers found their way inside of you. “I’ve definitely missed that. I love the sounds you make, the way your body responds to me.”

Your body was definitely responding. Eddie trailed kisses over your chest as his fingers worked within you, reaching all the places you need him the most. He used the palm of his hand to grind down against your clit and you bit down on your lip, your hips pressing down against him, desperate for more. 

“You are the only girl I want,” he assured you, taking your nipple between his lips before rolling his tongue along it in circles. “You and me forever, baby. Say it. You and me, forever.”

“You and me, forever,” you manage, your words coming out as soft whimpers as his fingers drive you toward the edge of oblivion, kindling a raging inferno within you only he could extinguish. 

“Good girl,” he murmured against your skin as his mouth lavished your other nipple with attention. “You are beautiful. You are sexy. You are a fucking goddess and I will spent the rest of my life convincing you of that if I have to. There is no woman on Earth who compares to you.”

“Eddie…” you mewled, rocking your hips against his hand as the knot within you threatened to unravel between his fingers and his words. 

His body slid along yours as his lips found their way next to your ear. Eddie pressed a kiss on the tender flesh just behind your earlobe and you gasped, your hands clutching the blankets, fingers curled tightly as if the blanket could keep you tethered to this bed instead of floating away in an explosion of pleasure. You cried out his name as your back arched, your legs rigid, your climax exploding within you.

You felt Eddie’s fingers slip from your body, leaving you feeling empty but that feeling didn’t last for long. His body covered yours as you felt the tip of his cock slipping through your wetness. He teased you, rubbing the tip of himself over your already overstimulated clit. You shrieked, your body jerking off the bed. 

“I love you,” Eddie said as he buried himself within you. His arms wound around your back, pressing your bodies as close together as they could be, every inch of your skin touching his. His forehead met yours, his eyes peering into yours with such love and adoration that it made you wonder how you ever could have doubted him. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” you breathed as his hips began moving against you slowly. He pressed fully each time, bottoming out within you before slowly pulling back, causing you both to groan in unison. 

“I’ve missed you,” Eddie rasped, burying his face against your neck. “I’ve missed this. I…” He stuttered, groaning deeply as your legs wound around his hips, pulling him against you with each of his thrusts. “I can’t be away from you for this long, sweetheart. I need you.”

Your fingers moved along the muscles of his back, feeling the firmness of his shoulder blades, before diving back into his hair. Eddie’s lips found yours again, this time more urgent and needy while still being soft and passionate. His hips moved faster, each thrust feeling like it was twisting a piece of you that had been disconnected back together. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears sliding from the corners of your eyes and down the sides of your face. “I’m so sorry I doubted you. I’ve missed you too.”

Eddie’s fingertips dug into the flesh of your back, pressing your chest against his as if he were trying to make you two into one being and maybe he was. You’d spent the last month worried about what he might be doing and he’d spent the last month worried you were pulling away from him. You needed this closeness just as much as he did. You relished the feel of his flesh against yours, of him filling you completely, all the dark empty spaces now consumed with the light and love that was this beautiful man. 

“Fuck…” Eddie muttered, pressing his hips flush against you, gripping you against him as his body stilled, his own orgasm overtaking him. He collapsed against you, burying his face against your shoulder, and you were surprised when you felt his body shudder. 

“Eddie?” you asked softly. “You okay?”

Slowly, he raised his head to look at you and something in you broke as you saw the silent tears that were slipping down his cheeks. Reaching out, you gently wiped them away with your thumbs. 

“Eddie…”

“I’m okay,” he assured you, grabbing your hand and pressing his lips to the tips of your fingers. “I just…damn it, I was so scared I’d lost you. The last four weeks, I don’t know. I’ve been an absolute mess without you. I want you to do what you need to for yourself but being without you on the road, four weeks sweetheart, it’s just too long.”

“Eddie, I’m ready,” you told him. “I’m ready to come back on the road. I’m so sorry, baby. I am so sorry that I got in my own head, that I let those girls get in my head. I am sorry that I doubt you, that I doubted us. I won’t make that mistake again.”

He smiled softly, pressing his lips to yours, “Good because I told you, you are my everything. I don’t care about any of those girls. I swear to you, you can ask Gareth or Jeff, I haven’t ever cheated on you and I never will. Princess, I would never do anything to mess up what we have. You are too goddamn important to me.”

You shook your head, “No. I don’t need to ask anyone. I believe you. I trust you.” Reaching out, you pulled his head down to your chest. You began gently scratching his scalp and smiled when he purred. “You’re my everything, too. I love you so much. That’s probably why I went a little crazy. It’s hard not to lose my mind when I consider the possibility of losing you. This whole rockstar life is just going to take some getting used to but I’m in it with you.”

“Well, that’s good because I don’t want to be in it with anyone else and you’re never losing me. You’re stuck with me baby, forever,” he said, holding you tight against him, erasing every doubt and fear you’d had.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson x you #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie

[dreamescapeswriting]

Tolerate It ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

PAIRING: Chan x fem!Reader

GENRE: miscommunication trope, introverted reader, social butterfly chan, chan finding something on readers laptop, sad, crying chan, comforting, sweet, soft ending

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

When it came to being open in your thoughts and feelings sometimes it was harder for you to express through words you'd always sought comfort in writing music to express yourself. It was one of the many things that Chan loved about you, it was something the two of you had in common and would work on together a lot. Ever since you'd gotten together about two years ago you'd worked on music together. It had started out as nothing but a friendship but the more you worked together and the closer you got the more you found yourself falling in love with the man that was Bang Chan and it was the same vice versa.

The relationship had its beautiful moments but it also had its not-so-beautiful ones, which seemed to be taking up most of your relationship as of late. For the last two months things had been hit or miss with you and Chan, you knew what dating an idol was going to be like but you'd never expected to feel so out of a place in a world you thought you truly belonged in. 

You'd landed a pretty sweet job being a songwriter for a few bands in the kpop world but that also meant you and Chan were busy at separate times, so not every break you had he would have at the same time. While you always tried to make time for each other there were also times when it was incredibly hard to be away from him. Tonight was one of the rare times you were supposed to have a night together but he wasn't here to spend it with you and you bit down on your lip packing up your laptop and recording items. It had been a nice relaxing night in making music for yourself while he'd gone to a social event with a few of the producers and the boys to celebrate the end of their latest comeback. You didn't hate him for it and you never could, that was just a part of who he was. Chan was the social butterfly that knew and got along with almost everyone he seemed to come into contact with and he enjoyed going out to talk to new people while you didn't. 

Your ideal kind of night was a night in, with music or a movie, you felt comfortable being at home rather than surrounded by people but that was just you. Looking around the living room and up at the clock you realised there would be no point staying up too late for when he came home. There was a chance he wouldn't come home and just go to the dorms so he wouldn't wake you up anyway so you decided to shoot him a quick text.

You: [23:58]: Front door is locked up, remember to drink water before bed. I love you xx

A simple cute little text, something to remind him so he wouldn't get a hangover IF he was drinking and a note for him to remember his keys. You watched in excitement as your message went from "delivered" to "read" and you waited as the three little dots danced around on your screen your heart racing as you watched them. Part of you hoped he was taking so long to reply because he was going to tell you he'd be home soon but the dots continued to dance around, your smile beaming from ear to ear until they stopped and nothing came through leaving you with the little sentence "Read at 23:58" and your stomach sank a little. 

As of late things had been harder on you, maybe it was just you being a little dramatic over things but you were suddenly feeling neglected in your relationship. Was that even a thing? You had no idea but that's what it felt like. It felt as though Chan was moving on with his own life while you were left still holding onto the relationship you had together. Were things that different now he was too busy? You suddenly felt as though you were being placed on the back burner while he focused on more important aspects of his life and you hated that, that was how you felt. You knew none of it could be true, that he was just focused on his work and he had obligations to attend to. You wanted so badly to make your brain and your heart accept the fact that you weren't the only thing in his life important to him but sometimes it was hard to see the rational side of things. You despised how badly you wanted to speak to him about all of this but whenever you tried it was as though the words had died in your mouth. The conversations would go left unsaid, you'd pretend to be happy with not seeing him and he'd continue his life without noticing how much it pained you. It hurt to constantly feel as though you were taking up too much space and time in his life, that you were just something he HAD to deal with because he tolerated you being his girlfriend. Since you weren't able to directly express your feelings to Chan, you'd done what you knew best and wrote about it in a song. It was something you'd been working on for a few weeks now, it was nothing much. Just a demo for a solo artist who'd asked for a different example of your writing style, something that was different from her usual work and so you'd gotten to work on something while expressing your own thoughts and feelings.

You hadn't shown it to Chan, and despite normally showing him everything you were working on you suddenly felt the need to hide this project from him. 

It wasn't as though you felt guilty about it, you just didn't want him to think you were attacking him or maybe even trying to break up with him. The song felt like a diary to you, it was everything you'd been feeling for months now and were able to express it through your words and music.

"Angel, come." You patted your leg at the small black cat and watched as it rushed up the staircase and toward your shared bedroom. It was a small black stray cat that Minho had found and wanted to keep - only there were no pets allowed at the dorms so the little girl had been living with you for the last six months and you'd grown attached to her. Every night you'd fall asleep with her curled up between your legs or even sometimes sleeping on Chan's pillows on the nights he wasn't home.

"You miss daddy too, huh?" You whispered as you noticed her curling up into his side of the bed and rubbing her head against his sheets. You carefully sat down beside her and ran your hand over her soft fur, smiling weakly as you looked down at her.

"Things will be back to normal soon," You whispered before bending down and leaving a small kiss on top of her head before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

The next morning when you'd woken up, the only indication that Chan had been home was that his clothes from the night before were in the washing machine and the lunch you'd prepared for him for today was gone from the fridge. You sucked on your bottom lip as you took in the sight of the living room, something felt complete off like you'd lost something but you couldn't place your finger on what it was.

"Angel, breakfast." You called out, placing down a small bowlful of food and looked back into the living room. Everything was as it was but you were still unable to shake the unnerving feeling inside of you.

Meanwhile, Chan was listening to the song on your laptop at his studio his eyes beginning to sting with the tears that were building inside of them. In a rush this morning he'd grabbed your laptop bag instead of his own - that was the only issue with matching bags - and out of curiosity he went to see if any of his audio files were still on your laptop but was shocked when he saw something else on the screen. Normally the song you were focusing on was the only thing on your desktop screen but it was the title that surprised him.

"Tolerate it," was written in all caps on an audio file which was strange as Chan hadn't heard you mention working on anything new lately but then again he couldn't remember the last time the two of you had talked at length for a while. It was mostly quick conversations and the occasional kiss goodbye in the mornings or at night that he got now.

"I sit and watch you reading with your head low. I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed. I sit and watch you. I notice everything you do or don't do." With each piano chord you played a pang hit Chan in the chest, he had no idea how many times he'd replayed the demo he was listening to but he couldn't stop himself. Each and every word and verse hit him like a ton of bricks as he thought about everything between the two of you.

There were so many times when Chan had noticed that there was something off about you, so many times he wanted to stop everything and just ask you what was going on but he figured you'd come to him. Forgetting for a simple moment that you felt as though you couldn't express yourself properly unless it was through music or through written word and now he'd found it. It felt like he shouldn't be listening to it, it felt as though he was sneaking through a diary when he knew he shouldn't be but he couldn't stop himself.

"Lay the table with the fancy shit. And I watch you tolerate it." The piano continued to play as you sang along to the words written on a file on the screen while Chan's heart continued to crack. He could remember the moment you sang about, he'd been stressed all day when he came home one night and you'd been waiting for him. The table was set with candles and fancy place settings and yet he didn't appreciate any of the efforts you'd gone to, he'd just patiently sat and eaten with you until disappearing upstairs for a shower and into bed barely even thanking you for the nice meal you'd made.

"If it's all in my head, tell me now. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow. I know my love should be celebrated. But you tolerate it." The demo came to an end and he slowly ran his tongue along his bottom lip, shutting the laptop and staring down at the photo you had stuck to the back of it, it was one of you and him from the start of your relationship.

"Hyung, so I was thinking we could-" Jeongin was cut off by Chan rushing out of the door, shakily trying to put your laptop back into the case as he walked back to the elevator. He needed to get home to you, to talk about it, to hug you or just do something. His heart hammered against his chest and he was starting to sweat, never once in his life did he want you to believe that the love you had together was something he just tolerated and he needed to prove that to you.

"Thanks, Binnie, if you see him before I can get hold of him will you tell him we switched bags this morning," You laughed weakly as you looked down at Chan's laptop that was opening on the coffee table in the living room. Chan must have switched bags that morning and hadn't realised, no wonder you felt as though you'd lost something. Being away from your laptop always felt as though you were missing a part of yourself, seriously it had all of your music on it. Everything you'd ever worked on was stored on that thing.

"You're practically glued to your laptops, I'm surprised Chan-Hyung even grabbed the wrong one." Changbin chuckled through the phone. He was the first person you called that morning when you noticed the switch up since the two of them were nearly inseparable when it came to working together.

"Yeah, he must have been in a rush," You breathed out, rubbing the back of your neck as you ended the call and stood up to go and make a drink. Angel meowed at you, looking behind you but before you could turn to see what it was that piqued her interest you were suddenly being hugged from behind and you heard a small whimper. Your heart raced against your chest and you bit down on your lip, you hadn't even heard the front door to your place open,

"Chris?" You smiled a little happy that he'd come home when he realised he'd gotten the laptops wrong, your hands falling on top of his as you gave them a small squeeze.

"I thought you'd be at work by now," You giggled slowly turning around in his arms before freezing in place. Chan was crying and it wasn't like him to cry in front of anybody, the occasional little tears would fall but never like this. These were real tears, uncontrollable, never-ending tears, his eyes stained red as they streamed destructively down his cheeks.

"Did something happen? Are you hurt? Did you get in an accident?!" You panicked, running your hands over his cheeks and trying to get him to speak to you but it was like Chan couldn't find the words. He had no idea how to even start the conversation.

"I heard it," He choked out, staring down at you as a frown appeared on your face, your eyebrows pushing together as you shook your head confused as to what he was talking about.

"Heard what?" You questioned. Was it something on the radio? Had something been leaked from his laptop? Or something from his night out? You began to wonder what it was he could be talking about and he sniffled and rubbed his eyes.

"Talk to me Chan, I need to know what it is so I can make you stop crying," You pleaded with him but he shook his head at you, sniffling as he took in a deep breath trying to calm himself down.

"I heard your demo," Just like that it felt as though the ground had been swept out from under you and you and Chan were a million miles apart despite being right in front of him.

"My...My demo?" It was stupid to play dumb when he'd clearly already listened to the song and Chan sighed at you, leaning down and placing his forehead on yours.

"It's not all in your head," He said to you, repeating the words to your song and making your heart shatter. It was true, he was just tolerating you because he didn't know what else to do with you. Tears began to well up and Chan was quick to hold onto you and explain further,

"That night when you'd made an effort with dinner I did," He shook his head at himself, he was such an idiot that day. He'd known you'd been wanting a date night for a while and instead of taking you out, you'd made a nice night in for you both and he'd been the one to ruin it and cast doubt in your mind.

"That day I'd been so freaking stressed and I just took it out on you and I never meant to make you feel as though your love was something I just tolerated." He choked out, both of you sinking onto your knees on the floor in front of one another, his hands holding onto your waist as you touched his cheek. You did your best to wipe his tears away but they continued to stream and you whimpered suddenly throwing your arms around him and hiding in the crook of his neck while you both cried.

"I love you," He whispered, over and over again as you both sobbed into one another's embrace neither of you letting go. Chan's heart hammered against his chest as yours did the same, both of you letting out small sniffles as you held one another.

"I will never do anything to make you feel that way again," He promised, pulling away and running his hand over your cheek softly as he stared into your eyes.

"And I want you to try and come to me...The next time something get's too much for you. I know it's hard for you," He smiled weakly as you placed your hand atop his on your cheek, and you ran your thumb along his fingers.

"I promise I'll come to you." It would be hard for you but anything was better than seeing Chan break down like this in front of you.

"What did you think of the song though? Was it good?" You questioned when the two of you eventually calmed down, Chan raised a brow as he looked at you. How could you even ask that? Everything you ever did was the best of the best.

"Everything you did is better than good, baby. Who's it for?" He winked at you, he knew you'd never give up the artist's name until it was announced but it was always worth a shot.

"You'll find out in a week or two. She's going to come here to listen to the demo. You're friends," You explained to him, smirking a little as you noticed him beginning to think about everyone it could possibly be.

"If she's coming here, it's someone you're also close with and that's one a few." He teased softly while you poked his ribs making him laugh and whine out at you promising you he didn't mean it.

"You'll find out," You promised, leaning up and kissing him softly before smiling at him and holding his hand in yours. There was something you needed to make sure of first though,

"But you're okay with me releasing it? You know that now we've spoken about it I don't believe what I wrote...but are you okay with me putting it out there?" Chan looked at you and frowned. You could write whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted weather it was about him or not and you could put it out there.

"It's your song, your music. You do whatever you want baby. I'm fine with it. It's not down to me, it's down to you." He told you before kissing you softly, dragging you closer to him as you made out on the sofa.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @illicee @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @aerastus @lost-leopard-beanie @laylasbunbunny @critssq​ @pearlygraysky​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @meowmeowisdaname​ @imafivestarkpopstan​

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #chan #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz angst fics

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

chapter 1.

Note: a brand new fic no one asked for :)

Warnings: none I can think of, we're just getting started here, it's all fluff ;)

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric, the bass player of your favourite band, suddenly remembers you when you meet again after 7 years.

wordcount: 4,5k

Masterlist

'Wait! Have we met before?'

Seven Kings, one of the most popular alternative rock bands of the last few years, were playing a show in your hometown, which was actually also the band's hometown, but you knew all members had moved away after their break through. When you saw the tour announcement, which only had eight dates, you immediately called your best friend, Gisela, and you were hysterically screaming on the phone. When she finally understood what you were saying, she screamed just as hard. You both have been a fan since the very start of the band's career, seeing them at their very first free show in your city at a pub. And after that, you both went to every show near you, while the band became more popular and the venues bigger. 

The band hadn't toured for a whole year and a half, as they had been recording new music and dealt with some personal issues back home. Sihtric, the bass player and your favourite member, went through a divorce last year, while Osferth, their guitarist, made headlines when word came out he was to become a father; of two different children, by two different ladies. It always baffled you how Osferth seemed so shy, yet he was a real ladies killer. Their other members, Finan, the drummer, and Uhtred, the singer/guitarist and Gisela's favourite member, seemed to have no struggles going on. And you were already excited when they announced their new album, a few weeks before the tour announcement dropped.

You and Gisela immediately stressed over the ticket sale. As the band had gotten more popular, the ticket sales became more horrifying. However, you couldn't complain, you always managed to get tickets, but it was always a bit of a punch in the gut you could never see your favourite band up close again. The newer fans randomly started to camp out for shows a few years ago, two days before the actual show sometimes, and you and Gisela drew the line there. You had no problem with getting to the venue early in the morning and queueing, but sleeping outside? For a show? Absolutely not. And so you both bitterly accepted your front row days were over. 

Your most prized possessions are the photos you have with all the members, when you met them for the first and last time, seven years ago, when they opened up for a bigger band. You got to meet Seven Kings at their merch table, after the show. They had all been so lovely, which was a big reason why you kept supporting them. You pretty much grew up with them, as you were around the same age, and their music had helped you through various heartbreaks. But your heart was also somewhat broken when word got out that Sihtric got married, years ago. You and Gisela always joked how you belonged with Sihtric, and how she belonged with Uhtred. But then Sihtric got married, and you felt crushed for a day or two, but then life went on. It's not like you ever had a chance with the guy anyway. Uhtred was forever single, always whoring around with the groupies, as was Finan, and well… Osferth definitely too. Gisela said she'd still marry Uhtred if she could, and you couldn't blame her. 

When the news broke last year that Sihtric was single again, Gisela blew up your phone with texts. You both chuckled at your delusions of marrying your favourite pretty boys, but never took it seriously, as they were famous, and truthfully, you barely knew anything about them.

On the day of the ticket sale you managed to score floor tickets, and you and Gisela were ecstatic. The show was already in a few months, and the album would be released in a few weeks. You both counted down the days and, when the album dropped, you and Gisela had a sleepover, listening to the record all night while desperately gushing over how good "your boys" looked in that new video, even though you both knew it was shot a while ago, as Finan's hair was short in the video, and you knew it was longer now.

'Did you hear you can win meet and greet tickets?' you suddenly asked.

'For real?' Gisela gasped, 'how?'

'All you have to do is enter your email address on their website, and a few winners get picked at random for each show.'

'Oh my god!' Gisela squealed, 'can you imagine?! We both have to enter!'

And so you both entered the competition. You knew chances were slim, their fanbase was huge, and many fans travelled to multiple shows, so they would try for every show they'd go to. You could only afford to go to one show, the one in your city, which was also the first show of the tour. You kept thinking of trying to get tickets for the last show of the tour, which was two weeks after your show, in a city which was only an hour away from you, but you never got them.

The concert was in two days. You and Gisela were already going crazy with excitement, and when you suddenly received an email from their record label, saying you were one of the meet and greet winners, you were sure your entire city could hear you and Gisela scream.

'Oh my god, what do I wear?' you panicked.

'I need to buy new clothes!' Gisela cried.

'I have to dye my hair! Look at these roots!' you gasped as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You and Gisela went shopping the day before the show, and you fixed up each other's hair, hoping you'd both look a little presentable among the other fans who had won. 

'I wonder how many others there will be,' Gisela dreamed the night before the show, as she stared at her phone, looking at pictures of Uhtred, 'and I wonder what the guys will be wearing!'

'I'm so afraid it will be so rushed,' you pouted, scrolling through Sihtric's instagram, 'and me too, I can't wait to see their new look- oh my god!' you suddenly shouted.

'What?' Gisela jumped up.

'Sihtric just posted a selfie on his story!' you squealed, 'look! Oh my god, he has long hair now! Oh god, that smile!' you cried.

'Oh god,' Gisela snorted, knowing you were a sucker for tall, lean guys with shoulder length hair, 'you won't survive tomorrow.'

Luckily for you, Gisela had the same meltdown when Uhtred posted a new selfie too, revealing his new look as well, and you thought Gisela was about to faint. You both 'awww'ed' at Osferth and Finan's reveals, them always being cute and handsome, and after that, you desperately tried to get some sleep, as tomorrow was the day.

'Is my hair okay?' you asked nervously, standing in front of the venue.

'Yeah, yeah, you look good,' Gisela said, 'mine?'

'You're always pretty, shut up,' you scowled.

You looked down at your outfit; black boots, black skinny jeans, and a comfy shirt of Seven Kings, which was actually their very first tour shirt, which you had always been very careful with. The shirt still fitted perfectly, but you did cut off the sleeves years ago, making it a sleeveless top. You anxiously looked around, confused, as there were only a handful of other fans who also won, and then you all figured there were no more than five winners, each allowed to bring a friend, so it truly was an exclusive thing. Gisela kept pulling at her little black dress. She heard that Uhtred apparently likes ladies in short dresses, so she went for it. You actually had no idea what type of girl Sihtric was into, as he was rather private and quiet in interviews. And his instagram page mainly had professional photos of him, taken during live shows or for promo, and if it wasn't that, it was a photo of another new bass guitar he got his tattooed hands on.

You all froze when suddenly a door opened, and your tickets got checked. Terrified that something was wrong with your ticket, your trembling hands showed the venue employee your papers. You all got cleared, ushered inside, and were told to wait in a comfortable lounge room.

'Okay,' Ragnar, the band's manager, said as he walked in the door, 'first of all, congratulations,' he smiled, and you all cheered quietly.

'The band will come out in a moment,' he said, 'and please… just… behave,' Ragnar sighed, 'no pushing or pulling, there is no need, there's only ten of you and you guys have almost an hour here with them, if you all behave that is,' Ragnar said sternly. 'Also,' he continued, 'no asking for kisses and there will be no boob signatures if you are underage,' he glanced quickly at a few girls who were absolutely no older than 16.

You and Gisela gave each other a sly smile, but you both felt you were too old for that kind of behaviour, so you wouldn't ask for anything like that anyway.

'Before you take your selfies with the guys, we ask you to just chill out and chat, get some albums signed and all that, the more relaxed you are, the better your pictures will be, okay?' Ragnar chuckled, 'those boys are all ugly anyway, so I don't even know why you are all here,' he snorted and left the room.

The younger girls gasped while you and Gisela laughed at the manager's sneer. Everyone adjusted their outfits before you all perked up at the sound of Finan's laughter closing in. And there they were. Finan got in the room first, grinning, wearing a sleeveless black shirt with denim jeans and sneakers. Osferth followed, in his white fishnet top, black jeans and leather boots. You heard Gisela exhale sharply next to you when Uhtred appeared, with a hint of eyeliner, a leather jacket with no shirt underneath, leather jeans and black boots. You looked at Gisela, who was blushing at the sight of her favourite, and you snorted. But when you looked back up, you saw Sihtric, his hair loose and wild, wearing a black leather dungarees with a black mesh shirt underneath, his dungarees tucked in his black Doctor Martens. Your heart skipped about five beats when you locked eyes with his mismatched pair for a second.

'Oh my god,' you breathed softly, grabbing Gisela's hand. 

Then Ragnar walked in again and frowned at all of you, frozen on the sofas. 'Well, what are you waiting for?' he chuckled, 'they don't bite!'

'Maybe we do,' Finan grinned.

Then you all jumped up and, as expected, most girls ran over to Osferth and Uhtred, while Finan earned some company too. Because Sihtric was always the quiet one, he took a slight step back from the others, which is why some of the other hesitant fans didn't dare walk up to him, and turned to the other members. But this was your chance, you thought, so you went for it, while Gisela already left your side and stood next to Uhtred.

You took a deep breath and walked up to the handsome, slightly scarred Dane, who grabbed himself a bottle of water and sat up on a table, keeping to himself. When his eyes met yours again as you approached him, a sweet smile appeared on his face and he leaned back.

'Hello,' he simply said, with that soft, low voice you love so much, and he took a sip of water.

'H-hi,' you smiled, trying your best to not show your nerves, 'how are you doing?'

'Nervous,' Sihtric confessed with a chuckle, then tilted his head, 'and how are you, lady?'

'Nervous,' you laughed softly, which earned you another sweet smile from Sihtric.

'Surely not because of me, I hope?' Sihtric asked as he sat up, quickly looking you up and down with a sly smile.

'Maybe,' you half joked, feeling your face heat up when his eyes darted over you.

'Ah, don't be nervous for me,' Sihtric smiled and squinted his eyes a little, 'I like your shirt. Is it an original?' he asked and leaned in, his fingers brushing your shoulder as he felt the fabric.

'It is,' you smiled, 'I got it at the actual tour back then.'

'No way,' Sihtric said with big eyes and let go of your shirt, 'you stuck around all that time?'

'Even longer,' you giggled shyly, 'I first saw you guys at that free show here in the city, at the Irish pub.'

'At Clancy's?' Sihtric frowned, 'damn.'

'Yeah, but I had to leave early that evening,' you said, 'and I got this shirt when you opened up for that other band, you guys were at the merch-'

'Wait! Have we met before?' he gasped softly.

'Eh, actually, yeah,' you felt your cheeks heat up again and took out your phone, showing him the seven year old selfie.

'Gods!' Sihtric stared at your screen. He took your hand in his while you held your phone up to him, to get a better look. 'Yeah… I remember that night, I also remember you now.'

'What? No way,' you looked down at your feet.

'Yeah, yeah,' Sihtric said as he let go of your hand, 'you were the girl who told me you liked the metal chain I use as a bass guitar strap,' he smiled, 'because it reminded you of Peter Steele.'

'Oh my god,' you snorted, 'yeah, that was me. And you told me you stole the idea-' 

'From Peter Steele,' Sihtric laughed, 'because I am the most unoriginal bastard.'

You both laughed at the memory, and suddenly Sihtric held his arms open to you. 'Come here, bring it in,' he smiled, 'you deserve a hug for still putting up with our music.'

You allowed Sihtric to pull you in, wrapping his arms around you, and he lightly stroked your back with his big, warm hands as you were pressed against his muscular chest. You could die peacefully now, you thought. You tried to pull back, but Sihtric held on a little longer before he let go, licking his lips with a soft smile when he looked at you again.

'You been to all our tours ever since?' he asked.

'Yeah, but more and more in the back of the venue, as you guys became more popular. I refuse to camp out for a good spot.'

'Ah,' Sihtric clicked his tongue, 'yeah, fandom behaviour got, eh, quite intense the last few years. People camp out, some even figure out our hotels, it's crazy,' he said, 'that's why I'm not that active on social media. You post one thing and suddenly a shit ton of people find out where you are.'

'Sorry to hear that,' you gave him a compassionate look, 'me and my friend also took a step back from the fanbase because of that,' you looked a little sad, 'people have no limits anymore these days. It's weird as shit.'

'Truly,' Sihtric nodded, 'but good to see we still got some decently behaving people who like us,' he winked and poked your shoulder.

'Oh, thanks,' you smiled shyly.

'So, can I sign anything for you or…?'

'Ehh, my ticket?' you smiled sheepishly, 'I forgot to bring my album.'

'You did not,' Sihtric snorted, 'really?'

You gave him a shy nod and buried your face in your hands, to which Sihtric laughed.

'Okay, hold on,' Sihtric smiled and got off the table, towering over you as he put his feet on the ground, and his fingers brushed over your arm, 'come,' he said, 'I'll get you another one.'

You hesitantly moved your feet towards the door Sihtric held open for you.

'But… I don't want to get in trouble,' you looked back at Ragnar, who was on his phone, 'I can just wait here?'

Trouble?' Sihtric shook his head with a smile, 'you won't get in any trouble, come,' he beckoned you over.

He didn't have to ask you again. You followed Sihtric through the empty hallway, to their merch stand, where he opened a few boxes.

'You had a cd or a vinyl?'

'Cd,' you said, 'the coloured vinyl was a little too pricey,' you blurted out by accident, not meaning to fish for anything or come off rude.

'I agree,' Sihtric sighed and looked up at you, 'we told the label to cut down that price. We don't even need that income anymore, to be honest,' he quickly grimaced, 'sorry, don't mean to boast or anything. But yeah, the record looks sick, but that price tag is ridiculous.'

'I agree,' you scoffed lightly, 'but, well, it is what it is.'

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed as he grabbed a vinyl, 'it is what it is,' he smiled and got up again, 'what's your name, love?' he asked as he grabbed a silver marker out of a drawer and ripped the plastic off the vinyl cover.

You told him your name and stared at the vinyl, confused, then you suddenly realised Sihtric was writing your name on the record.

'W-wait,' you chuckled nervously, 'I… I can't afford that-'

'Shush,' Sihtric hushed sweetly and winked at you, 'I'm giving it to you, so it's a gift,' he shrugged and continued to scribble on the cover.

'Oh… o-okay,' you felt yourself blushing again, 'thank you.'

Sihtric smiled and silently nodded his head while looking down at the record, accepting your thanks. He closed the marker again and flung it in the drawer, then leaned in on the merch table, opposite of you, staring into your eyes with a soft smile.

'Can I get you anything else, pretty lady?' he asked, carefully pushing the vinyl your way.

'N-no,' you said with big eyes.

'Hm, what's your size?'

'No,' you chuckled, 'I… I will not steal any more merchandise.'

'You're not stealing any merch,' Sihtric laughed, 'tell me your shirt size,' he bit down on his lip.

'I will not,' you protested while butterflies marched through your stomach, because of Sihtric's playful voice and smile.

He suddenly made his way around the merch table and, before you realised what happened, you felt his rough fingers touching your neck, as he took the collar of your shirt and looked at the label.

'Got you,' Sihtric whispered in your ear before he hopped back to the merchandise. 

He pulled out a sweater and two shirts in your size and pushed them in your hands, along with the signed vinyl.

'Sihtric, I-'

'Let's go, lady,' Sihtric chuckled as he looked around. He placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you with him, 'if anyone asks,' he looked at the pile of merch in your arms, 'you already had it. It's just our secret as to how you got it,' he winked, opened the door for you, and you stepped back into the lounge room.

Luckily, everyone else had been so occupied, no one even noticed that you and Sihtric had left the room for quite a few minutes.

'Thank you,' you said as Sihtric sat back on the table again, and he took another sip of his water.

'For what?' he grinned, then held his water bottle out to you, 'sip?'

Sharing a drink? With the man of your dreams? You'd be foolish if you didn't.

'Eh, sure,' you smiled and took the bottle out of his hand, taking a small sip.

You handed it back to Sihtric, who took another few sips before he closed the half empty bottle again, and handed it back to you.

'Keep it,' he smiled, 'so, you want a new photo? Now that we're both older?'

'Of course,' you said, taking out your phone again, fumbling as your arms were overloaded with everything Sihtric had given you.

Sihtric chuckled and grabbed your phone when he saw your struggle. 'Put the stuff on the table, love,' he smiled and then pulled you close, his arm around your neck, leaning heavily against you, and he flashed a sly smile as he snapped a few photos.

'Those good?' he asked, swiping through the selfies, keeping his arm around you.

'Yeah,' you smiled, feeling lightheaded at how close you were. You could even smell his cologne, which had hints of mint and cedarwood. You were absolutely smitten.

Sihtric handed you your phone and took a step back, his hand still on your shoulder, but before either of you could say something, another fan finally walked up to Sihtric. You noticed her and you stepped away, but Sihtric's eyes lingered on you before he looked at the other lady, and he somewhat reluctantly let go of your shoulder. 

'I'll see you around,' Sihtric said with a sweet smile.

You returned the smile and walked up to the other members, joining Gisela again, who frowned at your arms full of merch.

'How did you get that?' she asked with big eyes as the other men were busy chatting with someone else.

'Sihtric gave it to me,' you whispered.

'Are you serious?'

'Yeah,' you smiled and told her what happened. Gisela couldn't believe it and kept saying how Sihtric must have liked you, but you shrugged it off. 'He's just really nice,' you said.

'Nice, my ass,' Gisela frowned, 'he keeps looking at you,' she said, upset, because Uhtred didn't pay her much attention apparently.

'No, he's not,' you scoffed, then looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with Sihtric, as someone else was talking to him, and a smile appeared on his face. 'O-okay, maybe he just looked now,' you stammered.

'What did he write on that record?' Gisela tried to get a look at it.

'Oh, shit, I have no idea,' you said, completely forgetting about that after everything that happened.

You looked at the vinyl cover and smiled at the way he wrote your name so gracefully, and had continued with;

Hope you stick around for another seven years, and longer... 

Love you to death ;) 

XO

Sihtric

'Love you to death?' Gisela's mouth fell open.

'No! It's not what you think!' you said, 'you know his guitar strap? The metal chain?' 

Gisela nodded, her jaw still dropped.

'He stole that idea from Peter Steele, who was the bass player and singer for Type O Negative,' you explained, 'and one of their most famous songs is called Love You to Death. It's obviously a nod to the first time I met Sihtric, and said the metal chain reminded me of Peter, which we just talked about. Oh my god, I didn't even tell you yet!' you gasped, 'he remembered me when I showed him the photo we took years ago!'

'Oh my god,' was all Gisela could bring out.

The rest of the meet and greet was a blur really. You just couldn't grasp your interaction with Sihtric, and Gisela kept telling you how Sihtric was constantly looking at you. You chatted and took pictures with the other guys too, who were just as friendly as the first time you had met, but your eyes kept wandering back to Sihtric, and you always found him looking at you from across the room. When the meet and greet was over, everyone just waved goodbye to each other, but Sihtric was quick to run up to you, to give you another firm hug before leaving, and said if he found you in the crowd, he'd throw you one of his guitar picks. 

And before you knew it, you found yourself in the hot crowd. You were kinda close to the stage at first, but the crowd was constantly pushing and pulling, so you and Gisela moved further back halfway through the set.

As always, the show was fantastic, but when you left the venue you were sad you never got that guitar pick, as you had been too far away. Back home, you both couldn't stop staring at the pictures you got with your favourite member, and you posted your selfies separately on your instagram, tagging all members in their own photo. About an hour later you suddenly screamed, startling Gisela, who jumped up next to you on the couch.

'What happened?' she asked.

'S…S…S-Sihtric liked our selfie,' you wheezed, and just as you both looked at your screen, another notification popped up.

sihtric.kjartansson commented: beauty & the beast x

You felt dizzy and laid down on the floor, while Gisela took your phone to read the comment properly.

'Oh my god,' she laughed, 'he's totally into you!'

'Impossible,' you groaned, hiding your face behind your hands.

'Oh come on, we all stalk their pages, we know none of them ever comment. They rarely even like the posts they are tagged in!' Gisela said, 'you gotta dm him! He's totally flirting!'

'I thought about it, to… you know, thank him again in private but… I don't know…'

'You should!' she said, 'you should send a picture of you wearing one of those shirts he gave you, telling him it fits,' she giggled.

'Should I?' you frowned.

After some bickering, you finally agreed. You put on the comfy hoodie, which was the perfect amount of oversized, and you took a cute picture in the mirror. 

You: The merch fits! Thanks for everything. Had a great time meeting you again, sad I didn't get that guitar pick though, the crowd was rough. Great show regardless! :) 

You hit send and locked your phone. It was getting late and you were tired, so you decided to go home and sleep, figuring Sihtric would never reply anyway.

The next morning you woke up and you had a near heart attack when you looked at your phone. Sihtric had liked your message and even replied. With shaking hands you opened your dms.

Sihtric: looking good lady x

Sihtric: sad I couldn't find you either, the crowd was indeed rowdy. hope you didn't get stuck in that mosh pit...

Sihtric: let me know if you're going to another show, I'll fix that pick for you x

You gasped, screamed and nearly cried. You screenshotted the messages and texted Gisela, who went feral too, and she asked what you were going to reply with. You had no idea yet, you needed some time to think. You also cursed yourself when you saw he had replied only 5 minutes after you had messaged him last night, while you were in bed already, trying to sleep. You figured he'd never reply again now, after 10 hours had passed by now, and you felt you had wasted the opportunity. 

After an hour you finally gathered your courage and replied.

You: I know better than to get near a mosh pit haha! unfortunately last night was the only show I'll be at, I couldn't get tickets for the last show :( better luck next tour maybe!

You locked your phone again and got back under your covers, and a minute later your phone buzzed. You thought it was Gisela, but your heart skipped another beat with you saw it was Sihtric again.

'Oh my fucking god,' you breathed and opened the message.

Sihtric: damn, lady. Definitely hit me up next time you're seeing us, yeah? x

You replied with trembling hands again.

You: will do :) thanks again! x

Right after you pressed send, it showed that Sihtric had seen the message, and he started typing. Your head was spinning, how was any of this even real. Sihtric, out of all members, was the one who used his social media the least. Yet here he was, responding to you within seconds.

Sihtric: no worries love

Sihtric: was lovely meeting you again

Sihtric: how are you doing today then? x

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #sihtric #tlk #modern!sihtric

[rodolfoparras]

Smh Alec you can't do that to me and say you're gonna be only Slavic man by Price's side when I exist too 😔 I'm willing to compromise and let you have him most of the time since Simon is my main husband though.

Also since I adore jealousy and possessiveness and whatnot in writing (and I'm in mood for angst) let me expand on what you wrote if I may.

Price and Nik used to date and while it was never too serious for Price, Nik still has feelings for him. And John doesn't really are it because to him Nik is just a good friend, his oldest friend and someone he (platonically) loves and trusts. But you know.

It almost becomes competition of sorts between you and Nik. Sure John loves you far more than he ever loved Nik but Nik knows him better and he isn't afraid to show it.

He knows about this one band John loves that you never even heard of and he buys John their record. He knows about that one niche type of tea John drinks, but only when he has a cold. He knows exactly how to fuck John so well that he blacks out for a few moments. And what hurts the most, he was John's first and he knows John in a way you feel like you will never be able to.

John is devoted to you but first love leaves a mark and by the time you met John, he was already older and mature and he knew exactly who he was as a person. Nik got to experience John in his truest and rawest, John before bitterness of war and while it shouldn't matter and it shouldn't hurt, it does.

And you know John would never cheat on you but sometimes a thought can't help but to creep in...does he miss Nikolai? Does he want him back? ...does he see Nikolai in me?

(Naturally the answer is no, he loves you because you're love of his life and he doesn't want anyone else but you don't know that since you just can't bring yourself to bring up the topic)

-🔮

🔮 anon I’m losing my fucking mind here

Thinking about you being the troublesome soldier that Price has taken under his wing.

However you’re doing everything to resit the help he’s trying to give, telling him that you’re not a charity case when he takes you in his squad, telling him that you’re not a charity case when he wants to patch you up after you got into a fight, telling him you’re not a charity case when he decides to keep you on his squad even when you mess up during a mission.

It’s inevitable to develop feelings, no matter how much you try to prevent yourself from doing it.

However you’re more than sure that he doesn’t feel the same. Who would want a kid who’s been kicked out of every squad he’s been in? Besides Price’s got a man by his side that remembers the tea he likes to drink when he’s sick, the band he likes to listen to and buys their records for him and even knows how to fuck him so good he momentarily forgets about everything that’s plaguing him.

But what you don’t see is that Price reciprocates your feelings. The tea Nik buys for him, Price makes for you when you can’t sleep at night or when you’re down with the flu. The cd Nik buys for him, Price mentions when it’s just the two of you hoping you’ll want to listen to them with him and all of a sudden Price finds himself visiting Nik less and less because all he can think about is you fucking him into the mattress.

Tension are high when you walk into the mess hall and see Nik and Price talking to each other. Price’s eyes immediately fall on you, a small smile tugging at his lips but all you can see is the way Nik’s got an arm around him, the way he’s saying something to Price that has him laughing and before you know it jealously’s brewing in the pit of your stomach

As you walk past them, Price feels the smile drop from his face, quickly noticing the nasty scratch on your face and without even thinking he pulls you towards his table.

“What happened?” He says with a hand on your cheek and you have to awkwardly balance your tray of food so you don’t drop it.

“Nothing” you grunt out, avoiding his gaze but feeling heat creep up your face, all while Nik watches with interest.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” Price snaps back, thumb pressing down onto your cheek and watching the way you wince.

“Why do you care?” You snap at the older man, wincing yourself as you hear the words leave your mouth.

However the older man easily avoids the daggers in the shape of words, already used to them.

“Was is it sergeant phillips again?” Price says “why didn’t you come to me instead”

“You were busy” you say, finally glancing at the Russian next to him.

“Nikolai” the man says, hand stretching out towards you with a smile on his face.

You grunt out something along the lines of your name before you pull your face away from the older man’s hand, muttering some excuse that you have something to do, not wanting to sit here and hear Price gush about the man he’s in love with, while the man in question is here.

“Make sure to get that patched up you hear me?” Price shouts out behind you, “or I’ll see you in my office” his words catching the attention of the other soldiers in the mess hall.

“You’re making it too obvious you know?” Nikolai says while trying to suppress his chuckle

“Shut up Nik” “ Price snaps back feeling heat creep up his face while watching you walk away.

Spitball w/ me?

#me and u can share anonie #I’m not giving him to a Russian tho #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #x male reader #male reader #alec answers #🔮 anon

[picturingchappell]

Au: You're a famous popstar on tour, and Abby is one of your backup dancers. You guys get very touchy and flirty during certain songs, and the fans start to notice how playful you're both being with each other. You guys try to hold back from each other, but eventually, you get together and fall for each other.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

tags: kinda.. loser!abby-ish??, making out, minor touching, yearning for eachother, no smut, would this be fluff?, idk if it is, happy ending, alternate universe - no outbreak, in our popular era!!, LOTS of tension (that’s kinda poorly written), i literally know nothing of how a stage crew works, ive only seen two movies about how tours work, so bare with me

a/n: AYEEEE MUST BE THE MONAAYYYY!! im trying something a lil different (but like.. not rlly..) also!!! this is my first time ever fulfilling a request!!! i hope this is good.. i haven’t written anything for a while. also also!!! i litcherally just remembered this song existed today and (a lil lore), originally i was gonna title this dont stop the music (like the rihanna song) but then this crossed my mind and i translated the lyrics and it just.. fits!!!! 😄 ok last thing, this is the outfit inspo for this fanfic! latrice is sooo pretty and this outfit is fire!!!

The ticket lines were flowing with people, like, lots of them. More than you’d ever seen during your tour. Tonight’s show was in Seattle. Your set started in fifteen minutes and you and your team were going through the logistics of how things would go. You stand there, hands on your hips as you keep a straight and serious face while lending a listening ear, giving a few nods from time to time. Abby couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. Her eyes kept tracing over you. The entirety of you. The oversized denim, the Calvin Klein print across your thong, the black top looking just perfect against your skin, everything drove her insane. She’d have to thank your stylists personally the next time she saw them because each time she found herself looking at you, her face would heat up. A loud clap from the director snapped her out of her trance. She followed the other backup dancers, who were also following you. Before entering the stage, you take a breath and hope for the best.

   You take a few steps on the large stage, smiling as the crowd roars in cheers and applause. You wave as you approach your mic. Your in-ears had already been in and you were waiting for the signal to begin your set. Before this, you thank the crowd for coming and some other things before it begins. It starts off slow, a soft song that hadn’t required much choreography was sung. Your voice had the crowd entranced, smiling and recording you. The band played in the same smooth and entrancing manner you had already set. After the song concludes, you begin moving to your position for the next song. “Song begins in 3.. 2.. 1..” the woman in your in-ears said as a metronome ticked at the same beat of the song. The lights on stage turn red, smoke rises from the stage. The song was sensual and provocative, your voice was smooth (as always) and siren-like. You and Abby find yourself dancing up against each other. Caught up in your song, your hand snakes around her waist as you sing the provocative lyrics to her with half lidded eyes and a small smile. Abby panicked internally. She curses under her breath as you sing to her. Her body heats up and her heart rate increases. She heard the loud noise of squealing and applauding from the crowd. She felt dizzy as you and her parted ways momentarily as you continued singing. Your touch sear on her skin, 1000 degrees is what it felt like to her. Your hands lingered on her body way longer than you practiced. And god, those eyes she gives you. They made you feel a little dizzy. Those green eyes under the red light, the strands of blond hair sticking to her forehead, the way her eyes fluttered whenever she made eye contact with you made your heart flutter. It seemed so unreal, the way her large hands rested on your body whenever the move called for it or how she smiled at you nervously when you got a little too close. Anyone with eyes could see that you both had some kinda feelings for eachother. And this definitely wouldn’t be easy to forget.

   The concert went on for what seemed like forever before you were on your last song. You and the rest of your dancers stand in the middle of the stage, attempting to catch your breath as you hold your ending pose. Abby looks at you and you look at her. The tension from before begins to rise again. It was palpable. “You don’t know what you do to me.” Abby whispered, only for your ears. “I know exactly what I do to you, Abby.” You respond with a smile. After a few more seconds, you finally exit the stage with everyone else. You enter your dressing room, closing the door behind you as you take a few photos of yourself, uploading them to social media before scrolling through your notifications. As usual, they were full of mentions, comments, and likes. They were also full of your little.. moments on stage with Abby. Your body becomes hot as you watch it over. You loved the way she looked at you. Like you were some sort of goddess. Or like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. You find yourself smiling at your phone as you read your comments from your fans talking about the tension between the two of you. 

   As Abby sat with the other dancers, all she could think about was you. “God, you’ve got it bad, Abby.” One woman with curly hair says as she looks at her for a moment, then playfully rolls her eyes. “I’ve got it bad?” Abby acted clueless, but she knew exactly what the woman meant. “Oh shut up, don’t play dumb with. I see exactly how the two of you look at eachother. If you like her that much then you should just like, tell her or something.” The woman suggested with a shoulder shrug, then picking up her phone and texting with someone. In a perfect world, Abby would’ve already asked you out, and she would’ve already been your girlfriend. But she didn’t want you to think she was like, weird or something. “I mean.. the worst she could say is no, right?” Abby mumbles to herself. “Eeexactly. Now go.” The woman suggested with a smile.

   And after that little push, she walks to your dressing room. Her hand trembled on the doorknob. That was just her nerves trying to pull her back into the other room. Her hands become clammy along with her nerves. But Abby’s boots definitely weren’t quiet, and you’d already known she was there. “The doors unlocked.” You yell out to her. “..Goddamnit.” She mumbled to herself as she opened the door, walking in and closing it. You were still looking down at your phone for a moment before you turned it off and look over at her. “Hey.” “Hi.” You smile at her. “So uh, what brings ya here?” “Just wanted to check on you that’s all, but if you’re busy I’ll just go—“ Her hand darts towards the doorknob and you stand up and stop her. “No.. stay. I’m not busy.” Abby never listened to someone so fast. Her eyes meet yours and she looks around the door nervously. There was a small smile on her face. You found her nervous smile cute. You place your hand on her face, gently turning her face to look at you.

   “Keep those pretty eyes on me, Abby.” You whisper to her as you look her in the eyes. Her face heats up again as you speak to her in that soft voice. “God.. why do you do this to me?” She asked as she looked at you. Her eyes linger on your lips and then returning to your eyes. For the time she’d become acquainted with you, never did she think she’d be here feeling so tempted to ask you out. “Abby..” You whispered to her again as you looked at her, getting a little closer to her. “I like you.” “I like you too. Please let me kiss you.” She sounded so needy, and you couldn’t just ignore that voice. Almost in an instant, you crash your lips against hers. It just felt so.. right. And so natural. Her hands gently touch your arm, then your back. She drags her hand up your back and gently resting it on the back of your neck. Her touch left goosebumps across your skin. God she was so gentle, and it drove you crazy. Your hand finds itself entangled in her hair that was wavy, not being in its usual braid. She let out a little whine the more she kissed you. Slowly she pushes her tongue into your mouth, and they dance furiously, intertwining in a passionate dance for a few more seconds before she pulls away to catch her breath. 

   You both look at eachother breathlessly. That moment alone had solidified that you had in fact fallen for eachother. “Again.” Abby says, and you nod before you begin making out again. You stumble towards a small soft. Abby sits down and you straddle her lap. Your lips were on hers for a few moments before moving to her neck. You move slowly, making her wait. Her hands rest on your hips, and occasionally slide up and down your thighs. “God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted this. Watching you all that time, the way you look at me, that voice of yours. It drives me crazy.” For the duration of the tour, you had been restricting yourself. They say not to mix love with your work life, and in some cases it would make sense. But how could you ever do that for a girl this irresistible? Of course Abby restrained herself in the same manner because she didn’t wanna ruin things between the two of you, but now you were here and you had no intention whatsoever about going back to the way things were. Every wall you’d built up had been smashed down by the flurry of emotions Abby brought to you with her touch, her voice, and her want for you. There was no ‘line’ that you could or couldn’t cross, because.. the world is infinite. And in this moment, you felt infinite. And it was all because of her. Your lips trail back up to hers for a moment before she pulls away to say something. “I swear, after this tour, I’ll properly ask you out.” Abby declares as she looks at you. “I can’t wait. I want to be with you now. Abby, I want to be your girlfriend.” You admit as you look her in the eyes. A part of her hadn’t expected that. Her eyes widen a little in shock before she smiled at you. “.. Alright then. We’re officially girlfriends.” She said with a smile before you lean down to kiss her again.

#wlfabby #tlou #the last of us #the last of us two #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby x female!reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #tlou x reader #reader insert #adria writes #adria answers anons

[stressedemoblackbratz]

pretend

pairing: shuri x singer!black reader

warnings: swearing and fading relationship between reader and her boyfriend

a/n: as you can tell, i was definitely inspired by Zay’s own writing (the title has magically excused itself from my brain (i’m thinking lemonade, but i don’t wanna fuck up) my apologies, but i’m gonna blame that on finals). i loved the chapters and it inspired me to write something after a year. those euphoria requests wore me out lol. also, i don’t mention the death of anyone in this story. it didn’t happen…okay? okay! i might do a backstory to this? I’m not really sure, but we’ll see. i hope you enjoy babes!

words: 1.4k + not proofread

let's pretend we never met. a good excuse to play forget. let's pretend you never lied, so i can give it up all night, swallow my pride, and learn to forgive. when i'm looking for love i pretend it's you. a love that never ends.

the bed was cold, your lace band was on snug, and the food you cooked for your boyfriend of 2 years was cold.

and after all that damn cooking?

he could throw away the food and clean the dish he didn’t get to eat.

2 years and this was life. you used to bask in each others presence, go on dates, write poems together, make appearances, but now?

now you barely saw him because he was rehearsing lines with his new costar and you were trying to finish your album.

he didn’t look at you the same anymore, the house was cold, and those i love you’s we’re definitely empty.

you were perfect and just like that it was gone.

pretending like you were fine was the only thing you two had in common.

you remember one morning darius got a call stating he nailed his audition and filming would start soon. that night you two attended a movie premiere then at the after party you met t’challa and he introduced you to his sister, shuri.

now it was forced smiles on the red carpets, powdering your face after cry sessions, lying for him, and him avoiding questions about you slyly.

real enough.

now shuri, your producer for your upcoming 3rd studio album, she knew better.

she watched you write the songs, cry mid recording, consoled you when you came in with puffy eyes and swollen lips, fed you when you realized it had been some time between your last meal due to the fast paced life…she picked up the pieces.

and she hated it because she’s in love with you.

“okay! okay! but sza? ctrl literally raised me…sos is gonna eat.” you proclaimed to shuri one night after recording one song and touching up two others. it was crunch time and your label and fans wanted the album soon.

laughing at your seriousness she put the pho she had ordered down. the light you got in your eyes while speaking on the popular album was so cute to her.

you loved this shit as much as she did.

you were raw. letting each emotion out in each song and showcasing your life to shuri before showing it to those who supported you and your craft. you didn’t put on a facade in front of her even after you had been pretending for awhile.

“for me uh…” shuri paused to think after her giggles died down. she licked her bottom lip before flicking her eyes to yours. “definitely ego death by the internet. they raised me and i hope that their next album isn’t their last. i’d scream out to bast.” she started giggling again with you joining in.

two beautiful women discussing a mutual love.

“hey y/n. listen baby, i’m gonna be late, but i promise i didn’t forget.” you could hear aeva, darius’s costar, giggling in the back. “see you soon, love you.” he quickly said before the recording clicked in an ending.

according to him he wasn’t with her intimately, but you knew him. he was drawing away for awhile, way before this role. you wanted the peace of not caring or wondering what he was doing. wondering if what he once felt for you was what he felt for her just times ten.

in that moment, with tears in your bottom lash line and legs criss crossed sitting in the large black satin bed, you knew him coming home in a few hours, waking you up with sex and sorry’s you’ve learned not to believe wouldn’t cut it this time.

it hurt so bad to know that you were done.

it hurt more to know you gave up, not that the love died. you had already grieved on that. you tried so hard, but it takes two.

but you were so happy because you’d be able to address those growing feelings you had for a certain wakandan producer.

those feelings you suppressed to honor what was left of your expiring relationship.

all of that was over. you decided it.

climbing out of the king sized bed, you made your way to the bathroom. after cleaning up your face and sighing at the water clumped lash extensions, you decided you needed to shower to sooth the ache you felt simmer in your heart.

while rinsing the soap off of you, you realized your bedroom would make you feel suffocated. you needed to leave.

the only place close by though? shuri’s studio.

quickly drying off, moisturizing, putting on deodorant, and changing into a light pink crochet top, panties, black shorts, and the most beat up pair of crocs you owned, it was almost time to go.

a purse and jacket on one arm with your phone and keys in the other hand led you downtown.

shuri was up playing with beats. you needed one more song on the album before your label would review it and decide on the next steps.

she didn’t want the hard work you had done to not be cleared. this final beat would put you and her in the spotlight. this album was your baby and in a way, hers too.

she hadn’t heard griot announce your presence as she nodded her head to the beat, but she acknowledged your existence when she smelt your signature scent overwhelm her nostrils.

you definitely noticed her. she smelt so good and looked even better. her curls hung in front of her face, different vibranium rings across all 10 fingers, wearing low hanging sweats, and a tight beater that helped show off her lean, but muscular frame.

“y/n?” she called turning around. by the look of your eyes her heart dropped, but she could notice a different kind of look on your face compared to what she usually saw associated with that feature.

“what’s wrong, entle? kukho into ayenzileyo?” she asked stopping the beat, queuing a different track, and grasping your hands.

you smiled at her urgency. she was always so sweet to you.

“shuri you know i’m still learning. i only caught you calling me beautiful.” you teased with a smile. her heart didn’t feel as heavy anymore with that look. it wasn’t forced, just playful.

“kukho into ayenzileyo, i asked did he do something?” shuri said with a light smile and knowing eyes. yours darkened a bit before you looked away and contemplated on the best way to tell her.

“he promised he wouldn’t miss dinner again, he did and it’s because he wants to be with her.” shuri frowned at his actions.

“i can’t take this anymore so i’ve decided when he comes home i’ll let him know we’re done. i’m going to make sure he gets a good mover for his items and i find a good locksmith so he can’t come back.” you revealed. saying it out loud made you feel lighter.

“i’m giving it all up. i choose me and my happiness.” you whispered as she brought you into her chest. the slight jolt she endured as a result of you slamming into her made her bump the play button and start the last song you recorded together.

let’s pretend that we bout to break up…to catch the feelings so we can make up…

“i’m…i’m proud of you! this whole album was you baring it all and finding yourself…this might be the end of a chapter. you’re stepping into a new book.” shuri spoke to you. she was tired of picking up the pieces he broke. she was tired of seeing you try to fix them.

let’s pretend i ain’t your friend so we can get it on again.

“ndiyakuthandana.” she whispered her love to you.

so we can get it on again. let’s pretend we never met, a good excuse to play forget.

“nam ndiyakuthanda” you whispered right back.

i pretend it’s you…that i’m in love with…

a tattooed hand gripped the side of your face before shuri questioned you.

“you mean that shit?” she lowly whispered.

you looked into her dark eyes and thought about everything. the first session, your recent session, the parties, the conversations, the outings, the meals you ate together, the secrets you told, the feelings you shared, everything you’ve experienced with her or because of her you wouldn’t trade.

you did mean it.

a thousand times you’d say yes.

with a nod from you shuri lifted your head from her chest and kissed you.

she’s been waiting for it.

that kiss was one of many that night. clothes left on the soundboard, seven mixed calls and a few texts left from darius ignored, the sun started to come up, and a new life was brewing on the horizon.

pretending led you to what you really wanted.

shuri.

#shuri imagine #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #letitia wright shuri #shuri black panther #princess shuri #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #shuri of wakanda #shuriri #shuri fluff #shuriri x reader #wlw

[watermelonsugacry]

How did H find out about YN and Matt?

LOVE YOUU

Hi hun! How did H find out about yn and Matt? Like how jealous and miserable did he get on a scale?

MOVE

A/N: SINCE 2010 ficmas day 2! had this one saved up for a bit 💚

SUMMARY: In 2013, YN is a feature on Little Mix's song Move which also means that she's going to dance and be part of its music video. What happens when Harry sees how close YN and her dance partner are getting? (7.7K)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // Ficmas 2022

YN drops the styrofoam smoothie cup that she just spilled her guts into down the trash bin outside the entrance of the dance studio. She quickly unwraps gum from the packet Harry left in her car and makes a mental note to both scold and thank him for leaving stuff in her car.

Today is the first day of a two week dance rehearsal for Little Mix’s new single Move. This was the first song YN was able to get a more hands-on experience behind song producing for other artists. It started off with very minimal work on some harmony stacking (an art form the girl group is exquisite at executing) that led to the girls encouraging her to get inside the recording booth. With permission from her management team, YN became an official feature for the song.

From then, her management team didn’t hesitate to take an opportunity for One Direction and Little Mix’s exposure and quickly invested in a music video and some live performances to debut their new single. The musicians from both bands were all undoubtedly excited at the news. Not only would it benefit both bands for its vast media exposure, but it was a chance to hang out with people their age other than their own band members.

YN has grown closer to these girls—it certainly helps that her bandmate was dating one of them—and she was more than happy for this kind of experience. Yet, what had her stomach drop to the bottom of her feet was the news about incorporating dancing to this single. Not just a simple eight count either but a full three minute dance routine. 

YN has never done anything like this before. A massive weight was lifted off of her shoulders when the boys were against doing any kind of professional choreography when the band was first formed. None of them had any dancing background and everyone was perfectly okay with that; it honestly made the band that much more genuine and different from other music groups. 

But she has to admit, a little piece inside of her is super excited for an opportunity like this. She had been curious about dancing within her singing career but never had a chance (or the courage) to speak out about it. That’s not to say that her anxiety hasn't spiked to 100 for her professional dancing debut being alongside the biggest girl group on the planet.

With another tug to readjust the backpack digging into her shoulder, she turns her back to the double doors to push it open with her shoulder and is quickly washed with the AC blasting from inside. Before she can even get two steps inside the building, she feels a hard surface bump right in front of her and a cold wash of blue liquid spills all over her oversized white t-shirt.

A harsh gasp runs through her lips and her mind is already blocking out the profanities threatening to come up and out of her throat as she remembers her media-training.

“Holy shit. M’so sorry! Y’alright, babe?” 

“Yeah, I’m—” She looks up and sees an attractive man with a concerned look on his face, one hand holding onto her forearm while his other holds a now half empty bottle of Gatorade. His light brown eyes match his mocha skin and there is no other course of action but to melt into his arms and feed into the damsel in distress situation she finds herself in. 

Wait, what? Since when is she the one to be at a loss for words?

“Yeah, yeah m’good thanks,” She straightens up but definitely takes notice of the way he’s still holding her arm. She looks down at her ruined shirt with a sigh, “Can’t really say the same for me shirt. Tie-dye isn’t really in the fashion trends at the moment I’m afraid.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” He gives her a sincere smile. “You seem like you can pull off such a psychedelic wardrobe. Should I go grab an orange drink to pour around the blue?” The guy joins in her giggling with a chuckle. 

YN shakes her head with a pained smile, “Please don’t.”

It’s like he remembers his hold on her and he goes to remove his hands until he catches the ink on her skin, “I like your tattoos. You seem a little young to be wearing ‘em though.” 

“Well, I’ll be twenty in May. It’s not like I’m a child,” She straightens her back a bit at her response and sees his smile turn into a small smirk. 

Oh wow. 

The guy looks at her for a beat longer before he pipes up as if he just realized something. “Oh, here.”

He slips the strap of his duffle bag down and it drops with a thud to the ground. He quickly unzips one of the sides and hands her a hand towel, one she takes with a small ‘fanks as she goes to wipe at her shirt. Not like that’s going to help ruined shirts but at least she won’t have her clothes dripping before she gets the chance to change. 

Normally, if this happened on stage with the boys (which it has) YN wouldn’t hesitate to pick up a water bottle of her own to attempt to soak her bandmates back. If she were fortunate enough, sometimes it would be at the end of the show so she can quickly change out of her drenched clothing and promptly jump into a nice shower.

“Did you have to pick such a stainful color? I would have been at least a little flattered if it were a flavorful one.”

“What do y’mean?”

“Your drink. Sorry mate,” YN tsks. “But blue Gatorade is a major red flag.”

Is...is she flirting with this guy? It’s certainly a different course of action than if Louis or Liam or even Zayn were to have drenched her in sugary-liquid.

“How so?” He muses with a playful furrow of his eyebrows.

“‘Cause it’s the worst one?”

“Huh, you seem like a green Gatorade type of lady.”

“S’red actually. Red flag number two.”

“Well how about this,” The guy licks his lips, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at her. “I take you to dinner where you can tell me all about yeh different colored flags. You can have yeh red drink while I have my blue one and who knows? Maybe by the end of the night, we can make our tongues purple.”

YN lets out a genuine scoff, the corners of her lips curling up in a smirk. This bloke is bold. 

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, seeing as you’re unable to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“Oh you wound me,” The guy puts a hand over his toned chest peeking out from his loose tank top and YN bites back a giggle. Who is she right now? “So much so as m’surely dead and in heaven right now since I see an angel right in front of me.”

“Your way of flirting is truly awful,” YN tucks her lips in to prevent the ever-growing smile threatening to tug on her lips.

“Yeah, but,” He leans down a bit more to say, “It is working, isn’t it?”

It is, and stupidly so. 

“I guess we’ll never know,” YN pushes the small towel towards his chest. She gives him a small smirk as she chews her gum with her mouth closed and walks around him to head down the hallway. 

It’s not like she’s ever going to see him again. She’s always busy with being on tour and it wasn’t anything new for her to be a bit flirty a bit with a stranger she knew she’d never see again. 

No harm, no foul. 

She heads towards the hall where there are multiple doors with numbers on them. Once she reaches the door with the number 3 on it, she gives three quick knocks before twisting the handle.

The scream of the girls echoes off the walls of the room at the sight of her and she can’t help but laugh in return. As she’s about to close the door behind her, she feels something block her from doing so. With a furrow of her eyebrows, she does a double take when she looks over her shoulder to see the guy from earlier with his hand spread out on the door.

Before she can form a question out of her fuzzy brain, she feels the girls’ hands wrapping around her arms to pull her further into the room.

“We are so excited you’re here!” Perrie says, holding her shoulders.

“Oh this is going to be so amazin’,”Leigh Anne giggles, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down. 

It’s both odd and refreshing to be around girls her age. Being on tour with five boys 24/7 for three years straight should seem like a dream to most girls—and while the majority of the time it is—it would be nice to have some time away from all the testosterone.

“Well ‘fanks to you lot for having me in this. I’ve never done anything like this before,” Despite her nerves from earlier, she’s starting to feel ten times better.

“I see you met your dance partner,” Perrie nods her head to someone behind me. 

She did? 

YN hesitantly turns over her shoulder to see Door Guy laughing and talking with the other dancers. When he turns his head and locks eyes with her, his smile turns into a smirk. 

“And our choreographer.” 

YN snaps her head back to the girls but quickly tries to compose herself at the words that just left out of Jade’s mouth. She can feel the familiar turn in her stomach again and wonders if she suddenly ran out of the room would they think of her differently. 

“C-choreographer?”

“Well, for this music video he is. But don’t worry babe, he’s an amazing dancer,” Jesy says, nodding in reassurance.

“I don’t think that’s the thing she’s worried about,” Jade says with a smile, giggling along with the other girls.

“What do yeh mean?” YN asks them, trying to seem confused while she’s currently dying on the inside. This really can’t be happening.

Perrie says in a whisper, “Babes, we’re girls. We can spot a crush when we see one.” 

“Or a guy completely checking out a girl,” Leigh Anne says after seeing YN’s lips part in shock. YN didn’t grow up with a lot of girl friends and being put in a band with five other guys made her love her career even more. She’s so used to using her skills as a female to swerve her way past situations like not talking about her feelings or dismissing the idea of ever talking about guys she likes. What a reminder to brush up on said skills since these four were able to easily dodge her question with giddy smiles.

“And from the looks of it, he totally is,” Jade squeals quietly while glancing behind her. 

The loud clap behind her echoes throughout the studio and it makes her shoulders flinch.

“Alright girls, let’s get this show on the road,” The Door Guy’s voice follows suit.

“Come on,” Perrie hooks her arm through hers. “You can set your bag over here. And what happened to yeh shirt?”

“It’s a long story,” YN lets out a sigh. 

Kill me, please kill me now. 

“Alright,” The guy who she has yet to know his name stands in front of the room, ready to give further instructions. He gives her a smile before turning his gaze to talk with the rest of the group. “Before we start, I’m sure everyone knows by now that we have a special guest for this project. Miss YN YLN will be joining us for the dance routine as she’s the feature for this single.” 

YN raises her eyebrows at the fact that he knew her name but quickly slaps on a smile as everyone in the room claps. Perrie wraps her arms around her and pulls her in for a quick, side hug. 

Wait, if he knew her name, then he must know who she is. She somehow knew it was too good to be true, but she just hopes that he wasn’t flirting with her because of her “fame.” Or was she just pushing it on him? Or was he just being nice to her and she was taking it as flirting—

“Alright, so it’s gonna start on a basic 8 count and we’re gonna start straight away with partner work. So let’s get on a diagonal line starting with Jade over here...” 

She turns around on her heel to get in the spot he wants her and sees Perrie give her a smile that she's trying to hide. She gives her a playful eye roll before she feels two big hands on her shoulders. 

“And you’ll stand over here,” He gently guides her where to stand and before he lets go, he gives her a wink before moving onto Jesy at her left. Her stomach suddenly does a weird flip. 

These past few years, the playful flirting from fans has increased but she only sees them for a minute or two before being rushed off. Whether it be at meet and greets or on the street, she hasn’t had someone flirt with her knowing that they will be seeing each other for the next couple of weeks. 

It’s been a while since she’s been around girls. Were they always this...jumpy? 

She feels a tap on her hand and turns to her right to see Jade gives her an excited look, knowing she saw the small interaction between her and the door guy. 

As he goes about teaching everyone the steps, YN feels like an idiot schoolgirl who’s getting touched for the first time. She mentally scolds her body when her skin tingles at his touch; whether it be as simple as a hand on her arm or how she can feel his toned body move with hers from behind. 

“So you’re gonna extend your arm towards us, so you’re pointing at us,” Door Guy instructs and everyone follows along. “Good. Now your partner is gonna grab your hand and push it away like so,” He wraps his hand around YN’s to demonstrate before gently pushing it away all the while she keeps her gaze towards the mirror beside her to avoid his gaze. “Cool. Now we’ll each review it a bit with our partners and then we’ll take it from the top together.” 

The pairs around the room begin to chat amongst themselves as they move back to get ready in their starting positions and begin to slowly review their steps.

He moves to stand next to her and she puts her hand on her hips, remembering her starting position, “Ready?” When she gives him a nod, he begins to count, “Five, six, seven, eight...” 

On beat, she lifts her head up, then places her hand on his arm while moving her upper body to the right.

“So,” She says after two beats. “You knew who I was when we spoke at the door?” She moves to grab his extended forearm and leans down to a lunging position.

“Make sure you tilt your head back as you lower yourself,” Once she follows his instructions and she carries on through the steps, he continues. “And to answer your question: no, I didn’t. I knew someone named YN was coming in to dance with us but I didn’t know what you looked like. But when I saw you walk into the studio and the girls were screaming bloody murder, I put two and two together.”

He didn’t know what she looked like? She can’t tell if he’s lying or not. Not to sound big-headed but she’s pretty sure her band has become a household name by now.

“How have you not heard of One Direction?” She instantly squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth, immediately regretting her words the second they left her mouth. “Sorry, that sounded so—”

“Humble?” He raises an eyebrow at her as another smirk tugs itself on his lips.

“Try arrogant.” 

“Narcissistic,” He retaliates. 

“Semantics,” She just shrugs her shoulders as she walks her fingers up his toned arm and follows through on the next dance move. “Y’also never introduced yourself.”

“I haven’t, no,” He goes to lean in front of her so she can put her hands on his shoulders like he taught her and the rest of the girls earlier. After a beat goes by and he hasn’t said anything yet, she raises her eyebrows. 

“Or do you reckon I keep calling you Door Guy?”

“So that’s what you’ve been calling me?” He peeks at her over his shoulder.

“Only in my head.” 

“S’Mathew,” He informs her as he moves to stand behind her. For a moment, she’s impressed at how well he’s able to fluidly go through each dance move so effortlessly but then quickly remembers that it’s his occupation. “But everyone calls me Matt.” 

“Well you already know I’m YN?” 

“Is that a question?” He muses. 

“It’s a name actually,” She sarcastically says, rolling her lips into her mouth to try to hide the smile threatening to grow on her face. In turn, he gives her an opened mouth smirk, his tongue pressed to the side of his cheek and his jawline looks so sharp it could cut diamonds.

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, don’t you?” He locks eye contact with her through the mirror in front of them. “But it’s a pleasure to officially meet you, YN.”

“You too, Matthew,” She says before she’s raising her arm up, snapping it back down to a turn of her head, remembering the steps he taught her. 

“Quite like that shirt on yeh. Designer?”

YN doesn’t fall for anyone so easily but she knows she’s tripping head first when she can’t seem to come up with a witty reply as quickly as she usually does. Instead, her cheeks hurt from holding back her smile and mutters a quiet, “Shut up.” 

Butterflies flow around her tummy when he huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head at her through the mirror. As he quietly counts out loud and they shift their hips together in unison, she’s left with a scary realization that the last time she felt that familiar flutter was with...Harry.

...

YN looks at herself in the small full body mirror and takes in a deep breath. She runs her hands down the curves of her full hips that are flushed tightly against a latex black skirt. She doesn’t normally wear stuff like this. The only times she wears skirts are the flowy ones her management forces her to wear to maintain her “good girl” image. 

But this...this was something she never really had the confidence to wear on her own, let alone a music video. She’d rather stick to the black jeans she wears on tour. 

She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath before she pulls back the curtain to the makeshift dressing room. She just needs to get out of the small space before her breathing gets iregulated and she makes a fool of herself by being found here unconscious. 

YN sees the other girls talking amongst themselves as they finish getting their last minute touches on their wardrobes. They all look so amazing in their first outfits, so skinny and toned that they could be supermodels if they wanted. She looks down at her skirt once again and runs her hands over her plushy hips. 

Looking at the mirrored white box set intimidates her more than anything she’s ever done before. She doesn’t know how to be sexy or flirty. These girls are practically the definition of such and it's only going to be that much more apparent when she stands next to them. At least she's had plenty of practice walking in heels so the white heels she has on shouldn't cause her that much trouble.

Before she starts to get in her head again, she quite literally gets knocked out of her running thoughts when someone bumps into her shoulder.

Even though it wasn’t her fault, she still finds an apology pushing quickly past her lips, “Oh! M’so sor-” 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Matthew smirks down at her. He’s dressed in all black from head to toe with a backward black leather cap on his head. 

“Well you should look where you’re going,” She counters back, smiling with her head tilted back in order to look into his eyes.

“If not looking where I'm going means bumping into you all the time, then I don't think I will.”

“Ugh, could you be any more corny?” She teases. “I reckon you haven’t been practicing your pick-up lines these past couple of weeks?”

“Aw come on. I thought that one way was at least halfway decent.”

“YN!” 

“Hush!”

Their heads immediately turn over to where the girls are huddled together. Perrie quickly turns her head towards them with a smile after hushing a guilty-looking Leigh Anne for calling YN’s name. 

YN turns back to Matthew, throwing a nod toward the girls before saying, “I should get going.” 

He nods in agreement. “Yeah, for sure. I gotta head over to my section, too.”

 YN nods back and bites back a smile when neither of them makes a move to actually leave, “I’ll see you later then.”

“Later.”

She playfully rolls her eyes at him and turns on her heel towards the direction of the girls. 

“Hey, YN?” She turns back towards him with raised eyebrows. Matthew’s eyes trail down her figure before his eyes land on hers again. With the stupid, beautiful smirk on his face, what he says next makes the blood rush to her cheeks. “You look good in that shirt by the way.” 

With that familiar warm, fluttery, gooey feeling that would have scared her if Harry didn’t make her feel it first a couple years ago. 

“Thanks,” And with that, she lets herself smile at him again before walking towards the girls with a new sense of confidence. She even swings her hips a little bit as she walks away, feeling giddy.

She hasn’t ever felt a confidence like this before. 

Going behind the monitor, the girls all watch in excitement of how good the shots came out to be. And YN...well, she’s speechless. She looks beautiful and natural. It surprises not only the director and the girl group, but herself as she manages to move so effortlessly with each shot. She looks absolutely gorgeous showing off her best angles, moving rhythmically with the music blasting, and strutting down the middle of the mirrored white box, sassily high-fiving Perrie as they pass each other. 

Already dressed in their blue and white coordinated outfits for the next scene for the video, the girls all stand behind an array of monitors as they look over some of the shots from earlier.

YN stands with her hands on her hips as her eyes bounce around the different screens. In no way, shape or form was she going to get used to seeing herself in this way—looking as sexy and sophisticated as she does. Even now in her white, high-waisted shorts and one shoulder blue top as she’s about to head into the choreographed dance sections of the video, it’s an exciting experience she can’t quite place an emotion on. 

For a quick moment, it has her entertaining the idea of what would have happened if she was never taken out of the potential girl group she was placed in after almost being eliminated off of the XFactor. It sends an icky shiver down her spine at the thought of not being with her boys. As much as she loves these girls, no one can ever replace the love she has for her band. 

She can hear clapping behind her but what has her spinning around so fast it makes her dizzy is the sound of a familiar, obnoxiously loud whistle that Harry taught her.

“Hey!” YN beams at the sight of her boys walking further into the huge warehouse. She wastes no time quickly making her way over them and throwing her arms around Louis and Niall. “Yeh lads came? For me?”

“We did,” Liam says as he gives his bandmate a quick hug. “Zayn just tagged along to see his lady,” He teases only to get a shove in the arm.

“Tha’s not true,” Zayn defends, his furrowed eyebrows turning into a smile when YN walks into his open arms, “Well, it’s partly true.”

“None taken,” YN laughs over his shoulder. “Li is just bummed because he doesn’t have a woman.”

As Louis and Niall begin to tease and pick on Liam, she can’t help the fond smile that comes across her lips at the sight of Perrie beaming up at her boyfriend before their lips interlock.

“Do I not get a hug then?” Harry teasingly asks behind her. 

When she turns around to face him, he looks handsome in his black skinny jeans and worn out band t-shirt. It’s a crime how good he pulls off such basic clothing.

YN scrunches up her nose and looks up at the ceiling, humming in contemplation, “Mmm, nah. M’good.”

His dimples dig into his cheeks at the sound of her surprised laughter when he suddenly tugs her to his chest. The tips of his blunt fingers dig into her exposed shoulder blades and he almost sighs out in relief when he feels her warm hands along the expansion of his back. The guilty feeling of his embarrassing thoughts diminishes when he hears her hum into his collarbones. 

“Sorry, know yeh don’t like to be held for too long,” Harry chuckles as he reluctantly pulls away from her warm embrace.

“S’alright,” YN gives him the smile he’s been missing since she’s been away more for this project. “Long hugs don’t bother me as much anymore if they’re with you—you all, the boys, I mean.” She huffs out a nervous chuckle that ends up being her clearing her throat. “Speakin’ of which, a big thanks to you by the way.”

“For what?” He asks with a tilt of his head, stuffing his hands into the tight pockets of his skinny jeans.

“Helping me with all the—” She moves her hands vaguely around her upper body. “—getting used to touchin’ other people type stuff. If it wasn’t for yeh, don’t think I would have been able to do this music video. Dancin’ with me partner and all.”

Aside from Louis, Harry knew more than anyone how much YN wasn’t fond of a little hand-holding, a comforting hand on the back, or even a quick hug. Three years into being in the band with Harry and she internally questions whenever he hasn’t given her a good morning side hug or a squeeze of her hand before heading out on stage. Not to mention how eagerly susceptible he’s made her to a late-night secret cuddle session if either one had some trouble falling asleep. 

It should then come to no surprise by how inflated his ego gets at her gratitude for helping her with something that comes easy to him. Especially since it's helping her have fun, feeling confident and comfortable. 

“S’no problem, lovie,” Harry reassures with a smile.

“Woah, is that you, love?” Louis leans over to get a better look at one of the monitors. It’s a shot of her walking towards the camera in the white boxed room, her hips swaying from side to side as she sassily throws her hair over her shoulder. “Almost didn’t recognize yeh.”

“Yeah, you actually look like a girl,” Niall teases, throwing his imaginary hair behind his shoulder with a sassy roll of his eyes.

As the boys continue to point out how she looks, Harry’s eyes catch one of the screens that’s playing her solo shot behind a purple background, the shot only showing her from the shoulders up. The music can be faintly heard from all the commotion going around them as the crew members continue to make some last minute touches for the neon lights section. A small smile stays on his lips as he watches her sing along to the chorus, smiling ever so brightly as she seductively moves her upper body to the beat. 

He sees a guy come into the shot as he dances around her and doesn’t think of it. He’s there to make YN look even better, giving her the spotlight.

As the song progresses, Harry notices how when her part comes up, she leans her forearm on the guy’s shoulder and continues to sing along with the bridge. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of the screen but his heart begins to sink to his stomach.

“Move it baby, Oh—” YN brings a hand up to the bloke’s chin and with her index finger, she slowly turns his head to face her own. “You know that I've been waiting for you.” The guy breaks out into a cheeky smirk and she continues to sing along, their faces are so close their noses almost touch. 

Is that what she was referring to? Is this what she was thanking him for? For indirectly getting her closer to her dance partner of all people? Seems a little unprofessional from his perspective, getting touchy and smiley with a person she’s supposed to be working with.

Before he can have the chance to unclench his jaw, YN is being called over to set. 

“See yeh lads in a bit,” YN smiles as she walks backwards towards the set. “Behave yourselves while m’gone.”

She quickly makes her way over to the rest of the girls and the back-up dancers in the small, neon-lighted hallway. It doesn’t take long to spot the bloke he saw getting up close and personal with his...bandmate. She’s his bandmate, someone who he can practically see as a little sister if he squinted long and hard enough. He’s harshly reminded of this reality every day and yet again today as he sees this guy—her dance partner who she’s been supposedly getting up close and physical with—smile at his best friend. 

Is it necessary for the guy need to put his bloody hands on YN’s shoulders to guide her to where she needs to stand next to Jesy? Or move a strand of her curly hair away from her face? Wasn’t that the hair and make-up teams’ jobs?

As they end their partner section, she and Matthew raise their hands in a high five before skipping over the right to get out of view from the main hall. The adrenaline that’s running through her veins feels amazing. The total rush of dancing with her whole heart, hitting beats with her body like no one is watching is so exhilarating. She might even go as far as to say that she loves this as much as singing.

“Let’s go, Jade!” YN cheers from the side as the next duo comes into the neon-lighted hallway. 

YN smiles out of breath as she watches them dance, one by one they dance with their partners. In the midst of her excitement, she failed to realize that she never let go of Matthew’s hand after they high-fived. 

When he looks down at her, she whispers a small, “Sorry,” before beginning to remove her hand from his. Before she can untangle their fingers, Matthew’s grip on her hand tightens. She looks up in surprise and he just smiles back down at her.

“S’alright,” He leans over to her, his sight still on the dancers in front of them. “Just don’t do it again,” Matthew playfully scolds with a smile, continuing to rub his thumb over hers. This time, she doesn't even attempt to hold back her smile at his actions. 

Harry is utterly split in two. The sight of her in her outfits as she moves so effortlessly with the music. The way her hips move, her smile, and the energy she brings is unreal. 

Even as they move onto the last section of the music video—the full dance routine—she dances with grace and passion and so much umph. She looks amazing in her holster-type top and high-waisted cargo pants. He’s seeing a new side of her come out and he’s happy to see her so carefree.

But on the other hand, his chest tightens watching her get up close and personal with this guy who looks at her with the same eyes he gives her; it is undoubtedly unsettling. He can do nothing but just stand back behind the cameras, arms crossed, and stare with a crease in between his eyebrows as the guy puts his hands on her. 

And the worst part is that she looks like she’s genuinely enjoying having this guy all over her. He honestly can’t tell if her smiles are real or merely for the camera—and that kills him. He’s so used to being able to read her so well, but she’s a book in a completely different language as she’s gone all googly-eyed to some other bloke she just met.

...

“Where is she?”

“S’not like her to be this late.”

“She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago,” Liam checks his phone one more time. “You know, if any one of us were late, she’d be pulling us by the ear and dragging us backstage.”

The boys were all dressed in their small changing area backstage and just about ready to head out on stage to do another show on the band’s third world tour. All the boys were able to sympathize with YN in the beginning as she was doing twice as much work with having to do press interviews and live performances with Little Mix to promote their new single. They saw her for a short amount of time before she had to be whisked away to another plane ride and back again to do a show with her own band.

But that all began to die down about a month ago so she was back with the rest of the boys full time again. With that being said, YN was coming back into her groove of things with being back on tour and performing for thousands of fans every night. Which means that fifteen minutes ago, she should have been backstage with the boys, dressed up and doing her small vocal warm ups and somehow scolding the boys for either being late or for smelling bad—it varied on the day.

It began with her being five minutes late, quickly walking up to her band members with a giddy smile and a compliment saying they all looked nice. She then began to grow ten minutes late, jogging over to her boys with her heels in hand and her cheeks pink, probably due to rushing to get on stage in time. It’s a new record as the band has less than ten minutes before they officially have to get into the positions on stage.

It began to worry Harry to no end, thinking that their management team was pushing her too hard and not allowing her enough time to ease back into their routine. 

“Ricard is gonna have a field day when he sees she’s not here,” Niall shakes his head, wringing out his microphone at the thought of their management representative having yet another excuse to scold her on top of her posture, her vulgar language and refusing to wear heels for a show.

Harry bounces slighting on the ball of his feet, taking a final glance at the entrance of the small changing room as if that was gonna make her suddenly appear. 

“Alright, m’gonna go check up on her,” Harry hands his microphone over to Zayn.

“What if Dick comes in and he sees both of you lads not here?” Louis points out, already knowing how much his two bandmates get in trouble for the slightest glances.

“Cover for us!” Harry yells over his shoulder before taking off down the venue hallways, ignoring the stares and double takes of the pop star having to be on stage in less than six minutes.

After rounding a few corners, he finally reaches the door with her name beside the door. He gives a quick three knocks before calling out her name.

“YN? Lovie, you in there?” He can faintly hear her voice inside, a shush followed by her giggling. Without a second thought he presses the code on the keypad. She let him in on the password out on a whim when he wanted to grab his jacket he let her borrow. A piece of information he’s now ungrateful for because as soon as the little light blinks green and pushes open the door, he’s frozen in place. 

At least YN is already dressed in her black sparkly dress for the night, but some of it is bunched up by her hips as she sits on top of the vanity. The sound of lips breaking apart rings through his ears as he sees none other than her dance partner pressed up against her, grabbing onto her hips as if he was ready to pull her dress the rest of the way up.

Her bubbly laugh and breath-taking smile is instantly shut down when her gaze meets Harry. The two band mates are deers in headlights and if she wasn’t gripping onto the man’s biceps, she would have thought she was dreaming. No not dreaming, in a nightmare. She’s instantly pushing the man off of her and adjusting her dress.

“Harry...I...” Her words get caught in her throat. She watches as Harry's eyes bounce back and forth between her and Matthew and she couldn’t be more mortified. The bloke that had his mouth over hers merely seconds ago doesn’t even say a word, only covering his mouth with his head tilted down at the fact they were caught.

Finally having the words to speak, Harry utters out, “We’re on in three.”

Without another word, unglues his feet from the floor and hurriedly walks back down the hallway. His mind is going at a million miles a minute. He’s hurt and angry and confused. Ever since the filming for the music video has been wrapped, she’s never mentioned this bloke once. She’s never led onto having feelings for her dance partner whether she’s performing with him or talking in interviews with the other girls; nothing!

It shouldn’t come to that much of a surprise as it is, she’s trained for this sort of stuff, they both are. They’ve been doing it for years and it somehow feels like a betrayal when she uses her media training against him.

“Harry! Harry, please wait up!” YN looks frantic as she finally catches up to her band mate, a state he’s not used to seeing her in, although she’s practically jogging next to him with the rate in which his long legs take their strides. “It’s uh, it’s not what you think. See I—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Harry interrupts her. When he takes a glance at her he sees how she’s holding her heels in her hand while trying to tame her hair with the other. He only allows himself since he can’t stand to see her cheeks pink and lips swollen. 

“But I, Harry I can’t,” YN stumbles over her words and it scares them both to not hear her be so composed. “Harry,” She stops them by placing a hand on his arm. She searches his eyes and as troubled as he is, he can’t look away. “Harry, I need yeh to do me a favor. The biggest favor anyone can ask,” When she’s met with his silence, she takes in a shaky breath. “Can...can you keep what you just saw between us? I can’t have anyone know about me and Matthew. Everything’s been so good so far and, and I really like this guy, H. If everyone were to find out about it, the media, the fans, Richard, it’d be ruined in an instant. Just, please. Please don't tell anyone.”

As much as he wishes she would have said that what happened with this Matthew guy was a mistake, that it was fling that all the other guys she’s had, he’s met with an inevitable reality. She’s found someone, she’s found someone else to indulge her feelings towards. To act out her new found liking for physical touch and be flustered by minutes before having to go out on stage. 

How long? How long has this been going on? Is this why their late night cuddle sessions stopped? Is this why her cheeks get pink and why her attitude has been giddy even behind the spotlight? How and when did this guy come in and out of the venues undetected? How many times has she come out on stage after having her mouth all over this bloke only to touch Harry’s arm as if he was the only guy in the world? 

Before he can come up with a proper way around to let her down with her doe eyes looking up at him, a voice breaks the silence.

“There better be a bloody good reason why the two of you aren’t backstage right now,” Richard’s voice booms throughout the hallway. He’s dressed in his usually cream colored, three piece suit that never fails to make a witty comment fall out of YN’s mouth every time he pays a visit.

There are many reasons why Harry wants to protect YN, but the one that has him instantly stepping up in response is when her eyes stay wide as if she might cry at any given moment and her mouth moving like a fish out of water.

“YN’s aunt is sick,” Harry easily lies. Another helpful aspect of his media training. “She was on the phone with the doctors right now and it doesn’t look so good. I called my mum to help make sure she was available to keep a watch eye on her until we’re in England again. It looks like she might need a miracle to recover.”

If looks could speak, YN would be granting Harry with a long list of gratitude.

“Oh,” Richard straightens up, clearing his throat and tugging sharply at his blazer. “M’sorry to hear that. Now let's get a move on before we have to pay these backstage technicians overtime.”

If her mind wasn’t somewhere else, she would have rolled her eyes at how easy it was for their strict management representative to quickly accept Harry’s excuse (no matter how good it was) while he would have dismissed hers in a heartbeat. Without another word, the pop stars are quickly escorted backstage. While YN’s hair and make-up team walk with her to touch up her look, the scowl never leaves Harry’s face as he walks further ahead of them and snatches his microphone from Zayn’s hand.

“Where did you find her?” Zayn asks, surprised by his band mate’s actions. “You guys alright?”

“Her aunt’s sick,” Harry mutters before pushing past the boys to get to his section of the stage. They all share a questioning look among themselves as they glance back and forth between Harry and YN.

“I wonder which one it is. Never met any of her aunts before,” Niall ponders with concern only to get a slap on the shoulder.

“She doesn’t have any aunts, you twit,” Louis points out as the confusion only rises. Yet there’s no time to question any of them as YN walks over to her position behind the lifting screens and doesn’t say another word and the opening music begins to play.

There’s no doubt that the fans notice the lack of interaction between their most favored shipped duo. Despite their bubbly and excited stage presence, the awkward tension between the two band members could have cut with a knife.

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[thefrontofmymind]

Might As Well 1; You Look So Cool

matty healy x videographer!reader

wc: 4125

warnings: mentions of divorce

series masterlist

You’d always felt like a bit of an outsider in your family. The middle child–between two boys, no less–you’d always felt like you didn’t really have a place. On one side, you had Chris, the oldest, the protector of you and your mother during your parents’ bitter divorce–you were very young, so you don’t remember the entire ordeal, of course, but you’ve been told many stories of the days wanting to stay at a friend’s and the sleepless nights, listening to your parents yell and argue downstairs while you quietly sobbed in your bed. Then there’s Luke–the baby. Not only is he your mother’s youngest, he’s also your stepdad, Vern’s only child, so there’s pretty much always some kind of attention on him. And that leaves you in the middle, the blind spot in your family tree.

And for the most part, you liked it that way, you kept to yourself and was just waiting for the day you were to go off to university and leave your tiny town behind. You were a whizz at media, videos, your ticket to the big, wide world that was just begging for you to emerge into it. You’d like to think you’d make an Oscar-winning film director one day, but you know your ambitions are incredibly gargantuan. You’d be happy with an average life, a steady job at least somehow connected to your passion–an ad director, some kind of editor, you didn’t mind all that much, you just needed it to be present in your life, it’d gotten you this far as as of yet and you could never have the heart to leave it behind.

But there was always a part of you that dreamed of big things–you figured it was good to have big ambitions, that way you’d have the drive to push yourself to an acceptable degree that would land you in a job that was at least satisfactory.

All you had left was to wait. Wait until you were old enough, experienced enough, to be able to go out on your own and actually do the things you dreamed of. So you filled your time however you could, between school and it’s never ending homework, you’d take up little projects to keep your skills sharp–sometimes it was just things for yourself, like re-editing scenes from your favourite movies, reworking them to create a new feeling to it, or you’d make things for other people, just the year before your media teacher gave you the task of helping to make a new advertisement for your school, or like now–

Your older brother was right into the music scene in your town–how little it was, it wasn’t difficult to keep up with it, and everyone already knew and very likely went to school with each other–and he’d called in a favour for some of his friends that were in a band. He was hoping that when–if–they got signed for a record deal, they’d let him in on the production side of making an album with them, that was his passion. You were tasked with making a music video for them–for a song they’d just finished and their first ever recording–which Chris aided them in–and they wanted a video to go with it, to post on MySpace, you assumed.

You wanted to be on the same page with them–you wanted them to be happy, and you wanted to show your best work, you knew you’d get nowhere without an adequate portfolio. You’d agreed to meet them at the chip shop just down the road from your house, at Chris’ request, he claimed he ‘knew these kind of guys’ and ‘wanted to make sure you’d be safe’, to which you scoffed at, thinking about the fact that you’d heard gossip from the older girls at school about just what kind of guy your brother was, and he shouldn’t cast the first stone there.

It was still a little chilly, spring hadn’t quite sprung yet and the sky was still painted in a shade of dark grey–like it had been for the past four or so months. You wrapped your jacket around you tighter in hopes it’d conserve the last bit of warmth you had in you. You were already running late as it was, you didn’t have time to go all the way back to your room and get a thicker coat, you just had to grin and bear it as you swiftly walked the couple hundred metres to the small chip shop in the middle of your neighbourhood.

As you approached you saw a white panel van outside, the only car in the carpark. You recalled seeing a similar one in the carpark at school, though not for a while, not since the year before. You guessed it belonged to one of the boys in the band, one of the older ones who’d already left school. Four shaggy heads came into view through the glass front as you got closer, and they all quickly turned to face you as you entered and the bell on the door rang, announcing your presence. 

You were almost stuck in place, as the four boys stared at you. It wasn’t until Julie, behind the counter, said hello to you and asked how your mum had been–she’d been on a new diet so there’d been no chippy takeaways in your house for a couple weeks by that point.

After a quick chat, you’d grabbed a chair and sat at the booth the boys were sitting at. It was awkward, and you really wished you could’ve been anywhere but there, you decided to push through, get to know them, in hopes of creating something really cool with them.

You’d quickly gotten the lay of the land with them–Matty, the lead singer, was….well, loud is the only way you could put it, he had a lot of ideas and he seemed to be the one you was leading the pack, the front man. You’d recognised the drummer, George, he was in your year, though you had no classes with him, but you’d heard nice things about him. Adam, the guitarist, he was a couple years older than you, he seemed quite standoffish, quiet, he mostly just observed the discussion. And Ross, the bassist, he seemed very protective of the rest of them, and he didn’t really speak. It seemed like Matty was the one in charge–makes sense for a frontman–and George was not far behind him, while the other two kept them in check.

Matty had a whole list of ideas and things he wanted to include in the video. He just seemed so frantic, speaking at a million miles a minute and barely touching the food he’d ordered, while the rest of the group sat back and ate, just listening to all the references he wanted.

Their song was called ‘Robbers’, Matty explained to you that it was a dramatisation of a couple from a movie he watched. He wanted the video to be moody, with a vintage feel, and he said there was a woody field next to his house–near the outside of your small town–that he’d like to film in.

You liked the idea, it sparked your interest and you could already see it coming together in your head. You wrote out a couple dot points in the notebook you brought–which was almost completely full of any and every idea you’d had since you got it about six months before–and made sure you covered all the points that were important. You were thankful they were pretty green, there were definite blank spots in their vision that you were excited to fill. 

You sat and chatted for about an hour and a half, eating and getting to know them, while they got to know you. You learned all four of them had left school just before college–they were determined to make it as a band, and they just couldn’t wait to get there fast enough. It soon grew dark and you knew you’d be expected back home soon, all five of you left at the same time–the band piling into the white panel, which you’d learned was Matty’s, ready to go wherever the night took them.

“Are you alright getting home?” Matty asked out the driver’s window as you bid your goodbye, just as he was about to pull out of the small car park. 

“Yeah, it’s just a couple minutes down the road, I’ll be fine,” you replied, pointing in the direction of your journey, to a road with street lights few and far between.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You didn’t want to be short with him, you just wanted to get home and start working. 

“Well we have to go down that way anyway,” he started. “So you may as well get in.”

You thought for a minute. Were you willing to get in a van with a bunch of boys? Well, they did know your brother, so if they kidnapped you for whatever reason, they’d be the prime suspects. There was a look in Matty’s eyes that bordered on…desperation? Worry? That was the nail in the coffin for you.

“Why not?”

“Great. G, open the door!” He called to the back of the van and the side door slid open to show George and Ross crouched in a gutted out interior–no seats, no kind of lining on the floor or walls, you could guess it was to transport equipment but you weren’t a hundred percent sure. You climbed in and the van was quickly on its way to your house.

“I think I remember which one is Chris’–yours–but you might need to show me when we get to it.”

You leaned forward to see out the front windshield, the van was completely silent as you could see your house come into view–bar George’s quiet chuckles that he thought you couldn’t hear, he was wrong.

“This one on the left, number 102,” you said when you saw your house, the house you’d moved into at the age of two–right after your parents split up. It hadn’t changed much in the past fifteen years you’d lived there–still with the hedges out the front, the broken shingle right above your bedroom window from a rogue cricket ball thrown by your younger brother a few years prior, and the blue front door, painted in the colour that you got to choose when you were three. Matty pulled into the drive and Ross slid open the door for you. “Thanks for the ride, and thanks for all this-” you held up your notebook. “I’ll get right onto it.”

“We should be the ones thanking you,” Matty replied. You noticed that he was still the one to take charge in all the conversations. You felt a little dejected at their lack of enthusiasm, you wondered if they brought this energy to everything they did or if it was a special occasion. You quickly bid goodbye, promising you’d message them when you had a proper plan for their video. And they left, back up the road in the direction of the chip shop. You didn’t know what to think.

You went straight to your room, running up the stairs after quickly saying hello to your mum and stepdad, who were sitting in the living room, watching some news program for the evening. You don’t think you’ve ever worked so quickly, your mind was just brimming with ideas and images that you needed to get written down before they were lost in your memory.

You only stopped when your stepdad, Vern, knocked on your door so you could say goodnight to him and your mum at just past midnight, you’d been working for almost six hours straight. Vern was someone you admired dearly. He’d taken on two kids, and treated them as his own–your actual dad relocated to Wales after the divorce, you’d see him maybe once a year if the stars were right, otherwise it was a phone call on Christmas and your birthdays, followed by a card with a tenner in it in the post that’d arrive not long afterwards. Vern was the closest you’d had to an actual dad, and you greatly respected him. You truly didn’t know what your family would be like if he didn’t come into the picture at the perfect time that he did.

By midnight, you’d finished a storyboard, as well as a sort of call sheet; a list of shots you wanted and your plans for it. You really went all out, Matty told you how they wanted a sort of performance set up, so you’d thought of the biggest thing you could do with the little budget they’d given you; fire. You knew it wouldn’t be hard to get some old wooden pallets or something that wouldn’t be missed, and you’d done a quick google search of the nature conservation rules in the area, and there was nothing outlawing bonfires, so you were golden.

You ended the night with a cup of tea–made by your mum–as you quickly emailed Matty the plans you’d come up with, before going to sleep, satisfied with your work.

It was a couple days before you heard from Matty. You tried not to think the worst, that the band hated your ideas and were abandoning the entire project. In fact, you tried not to think of them at all in the agonising weekend with no contact. Though you weren’t all that successful, you received a grilling from your dear older brother, Chris, the morning after your meeting. He claimed it was to just make sure they were all being gentlemen to you, which they were– though it made you worry that there was a chance they wouldn’t have been so respectful given the chance, that they would just be the kind of typical teenage boys that you stayed away from.

When the email popped into your inbox, you’d never been so elated. At least not until you actually read the email from Matty; 

heeyyy

talked to the guys, they all love your ideas so what are you doing this friday? we can get some shit to burn like you said and we could sort it out? just lmk :)

- Matty

You quickly typed an answer–YES–and prepared your plans, checking the sunset time for Friday to make sure there’d be enough light for the shoot. You could hardly contain your excitement and you practically ran out of your room and across the landing, then rapidly knocked on Chris’ door. 

As much as you did try to keep some distance from him, when it came to your interests, you shared a lot of similarities. You were both very creative people–your mum always said you two got that trait from your dad, though you didn’t know the man well enough to tell–and you both could very easily go into the same kind of field if the wind blew the right way. He was very into music production, engineering, anything technical like that, he loved. That was how he’d met the band; he was the one to help them with the mixing on the track they’d posted on MySpace–which you’d listened to a handful of times while working, and it was how you’d actually found out the name of their band which you assumed they’d forgot to tell you in all the scuffle–Drive Like I Do, it suited them well.

Chris opened the door, all dishevelled–it was quite late at night and the rest of your family didn’t seem to carry your insomniatic streak. You told him all about your plans for the music video, he’d already heard the song–many times–being the person who mixed it. He was excited for you, he was the one to bring you up when the band got onto the conversation of a video for the song. He’d gladly let you ramble to him as much as you wanted when it came to your passion, there weren't many other people you could do that with. You didn’t really have any friends in the traditional sense, you’d always been too focussed on the future to make a lasting connection with anyone, so Chris tried to fit into that mould when he could–when you would let him in.

After you ended your rant to him–which you hoped he understood at least a little, given his sleepy state–he didn’t say anything. You were worried.

“So what do you think?” You asked with baited breath. “Matty said they all liked it but you know them better than I do.”

“It’s good. Really good,” he replied. “Just one thing.”

You nodded, urging him to continue.

“Just be careful, okay? These guys…” He thought for a moment. “They’re pretty typical teenage boys. Don’t want you to get in too deep only for them to hurt you.”

“I won’t.” You smiled. “It’s just a music video. Just want to make it as good as possible.”

“Good.” He hugged you, slightly pushing you to his doorway. You got the idea. “Now, let me sleep.”

“‘Night, dipshit,” you laughed, shuffling back to your room.

His warning confused you. Why did he think you would get in too deep? Did he really have that little faith in you, and the guys? That night you went to bed, your mind swirling with these questions and no possible answers in sight. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what teenage boys were like. And you did feel cautious around them–Adam was a full 3 years older than you, and the other guys weren’t far behind. You were worried you’d put them off just working with you–being so much younger, you were sure they’d already deemed you immature and it irked you to think they wouldn’t take you seriously, so you wanted to work as hard as you could.

You were practically breaking out in hives from excitement the week leading up to the shoot day. It was all you could think about, and you’re sure you’ve never rushed out of school so quickly. You were lucky that your bus seemed to just miss the school traffic and you got to your stop fairly quickly. You got ready, grabbing your notebook of plans and your equipment–your small handheld camera and tripod. Chris was kind enough to drive you to Matty’s house, and you needed an assistant–better to be someone you knew and trusted to follow your orders than someone who you’d never met and the band had chosen.

You couldn’t stop biting your pinky nail on the drive, and Chris had to tell you to stop bouncing your knee multiple times–your nerves only got worse and worse during the short trip. You thought about telling Chris to turn back, and you’d tell them you were sick or something, but you knew you had to push yourself, everything just fell into place too well with the whole situation. And if you believed in a higher power, you’d certainly think it was at work today.

Your nerves barely subsided as you arrived, and Chris and the band helped you unload and set up all the “equipment”–the band’s instruments and Chris’ car, which you were planning on using as your lighting as it got darker. 

You had your plan and a schedule and were ready to stick to it. The majority of the video would be a performance of the song–you’d burnt it onto a CD that was sitting in Chris’ car so they could hear it and play along to it–as well as intercuts of more candid footage, the guys had told you there was a small paddock with some animals belonging to Matty’s neighbour, one cow–Betty–was fond of them in particular.

You recorded shots of the band walking around the paddock, as well as your smoke break. You’d never really smoked before but when Ross offered you one, you took it–earning a confused look from Chris, who’d mostly just been standing by, ready for nightfall, when the real fun would begin. There was a nagging in the back of your head, urging you to act as cool as possible in front of them. It was ironic really, you felt so childish for trying to act mature and interesting for them, they may have been the ones in front of the camera, but you were the one putting on an act.

Soon the sun descended below the horizon and it was time to light up–the wooden scraps the band had collected, that is. You only really had one proper chance to get the shots you wanted, the small fire–lit and contained by Chris–would only burn for so long.

You were pretty blown away by seeing them perform, even if they were just miming along to the real thing. You could tell they worked well with each other, they all had a certain charisma that just drew you to them. It helped that you did genuinely like the song, it had a charm that you could only put down to the fact that they were the cool, older boys in a band–everyone in your town knew them, especially Matty. When your mum is on Loose Women, people are bound to take an interest in you.

You were just about to finish filming, the song was drawing to a close as the final chords rang out. While the rest of the band was walking out of shot like planned, Matty–in a heap of adrenaline or something else, you didn’t know–pulled his guitar from the strap and lobbed it directly into the fire behind George’s drum set.

“What the fuck, dude!?” Adam yelled as you stopped recording. The six of you–including Matty–stood frozen in shock.

Matty stuttered through an answer, claiming he didn’t know, it just felt right in the moment. Chris was the first to let out a chuckle, calling Matty an ‘absolute knobhead’, and at that, the dam had broken and in a matter of minutes the entire group was roaring with laughter. George was eventually laying on the ground in a laughter-induced paralysis. 

It was well into the evening now, and the air was getting colder and colder. You felt a chill get into your body–deep in you, the kind you knew you’d only be able to get rid of with a warm shower or something of the like, your jaw began to tremor. You tried to clench it to make it stop, there was something in you that desperately wanted the band to see no flaws in you, you couldn’t show a single weakness.

You helped all the guys bring their instruments–sans Matty’s guitar–back to Matty’s house, only a 5 or so minute walk through the paddock. Though you had to admit, with the only light coming from the streetlights in the distance, and the only sound being your footsteps on the slightly dewy grass, you were a little spooked. But you never, for even a moment, felt scared, like you knew the guys wouldn’t do anything to you–at least with your older, taller, much scarier brother with you.

You brought the instruments–well you simply brought a couple microphone stands, the band didn’t quite trust you to handle anything that would be harder to replace–to the shed in Matty’s back garden. It was quite cramped, just enough room for their set up and a sofa. Though that didn’t stop them from decorating, the walls were plastered floor to ceiling with posters, you spied a couple movies you’d seen, but for the most part it was just spreads of models from whatever magazines they could’ve gotten their hands on. Typical boys, you thought, some kind of manifestation.

“Well,” Chris said after a couple minutes of chatting in the shed, just about the video and estimates on when it’d be done. “I have the early shift tomorrow…so we better get going…”

You felt a little disappointed, like when a child is told it’s time to leave the playground. You thought you could see a hint of the same feeling on a certain lead singer’s face, but you weren’t sure.

“She can stay here if she wants,” Matty answered in an air of unbotheredness. “I’ll drive her back when she’s ready.”

Chris didn’t say a word, and you daren’t speak either, for fear you’d jinx this opportunity the world has given you to spend more time with people you deemed totally and undeniably cool–the first in a long while.

“You promise?” Chris asked. You thought it strange that neither of them stopped to actually ask you if you did want to stay, but you tried to be cool about it–no use having a tantrum over wanting to spend time with people who could not see you in that way.

Matty grabbed Chris’ hand in a firm shake. “Promise.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy imagine #matty healy fic

[builtbybrokenbells]

Spitfire | ii

Jake falls for an enigmatic girl at the bar, but she gets away before he could get her number. Although a bit heartbroken, he continues on with life anyhow. He discovers a local coffee shop that adorns fantastic reviews, but doesn’t realize it’s the ‘spitfire’s’ long time favourite. He thinks that maybe fate is at play after all.

Read part one here

Read part three here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a physical fight, mentions of cheating and bad past relationships, deep convo that’s slightly sad, mentions of drinking, fluff, getting to know each other esque cuteness. I think that’s it, nothing too heavy!

hi! im really liking writing this so far, sorry it took me a little while to get this chapter out. im recovering from quite the sickness atm. i think this is turning into quite a slowburn little story. im so down bad for domesticity and romance, also just absolutely feral for Jake in general. hope you enjoy, and as always don’t mind any grammar mistakes and please be kind!! 🫶🏻

~

The small coffee shop was crowded, busy with hungover university go-ers and old couples on their weekly outings. Late morning on a Sunday was the worst time to go to a cafe, but they were the best cure for a hangover. Jake had scoured the internet for the best rated store that was within walking distance. Now, he stood in line, absentmindedly staring at the menu. He was still caught up in the memories of the night prior, unable to stop thinking about the girl he’d met at the bar. Once his brothers got him back to the hotel, he’d found it almost impossible to sleep. He’d stared at his phone all night, searching your first name on every social media he owned. Turns out, there were a lot of girls with the same name as you. That, or you didn’t have a very large internet presence. He was left empty-handed and dejected, wondering if he’d ever see you again.

When you’d returned home, little to his knowledge, you’d done the same. It wasn’t very hard to find him, though. All it took was a little search of nearby concerts to find the name of his band, and from there it was easy as pie. You had his account open on your Instagram all day, staring at it with your finger hovering over the follow button. You wished you could just get over yourself and follow him. For all you knew, he wouldn’t even notice the notification. Still, you were on the fence about him. Sure, he was attractive, seemed nice enough, and wasn’t disrespectful, but the possibility of him turning out to be an asshole was still very real. The possibility of him turning out to be a distraction was even larger.

So, you kept his page open in the background on your phone while you threw a sweater on. You then shoved your phone in your pocket, ignoring the incessant nagging in the back of your mind. You were certain you could forget about him within a few days. You convinced yourself that you were only so fixated on him because it was new and exciting. The novelty would wear off soon enough.

You slipped on some shoes, throwing your hair back in a bun and walked out the front door of your house. When you got outside, you took a look at your hand, which was bruised from the night before. You smiled at the memory, knowing that your ex had gotten what he deserved. The ache in your knuckles was tolerable if it meant he’d finally leave you alone. You set off down the street, barely looking at the people who walked past you. When you turned the corner, a strip of local owned business came into sight. It was bustling, much busier than usual for a regular Sunday. You smiled to yourself, passing by a record store you’d frequented. The owner was sitting in the window by the register. You gave a small knock on the glass, catching his attention. Once he’d recognized you, he gave a wave.

You mouthed that you’d see him later, making a point to remember to stop before you went home. He gave a thumbs up before you disappeared from the window. You continued on your walk with your main objective never leaving your mind. Eventually, you reached the front of a familiar building, peering inside and seeing it was very crowded. As you reached for the handle of the door to your favourite cafe, your phone started to ring. You pulled it out of your pocket, seeing one of your brother’s names pop up on your screen. You put the phone to your ear after accepting the call. “What?”

“Oh, yeah, nice to hear your voice, too.” The sarcasm was laced in his words. You chuckled.

“No really, what’s up?” You stepped inside the building, immediately filling the phone with background chatter.

“Where are you, the middle of a fucking madhouse?”

“Coffee shop.” You responded, getting into line.

“Recovering from last night?” He questioned with a knowing tone.

“How do you know about last night, Sam?” You pulled your wallet out of your pocket, checking to make sure you’d picked up the right one before you left.

“Little birdie told me,” he sing-songed. You were certain Eve had already texted him and told him. She was nothing short of hopelessly in love with him, and he with her. They’d clicked instantly when they met. If not for the distance between where they lived, you were sure they’d be married with six kids already. She’d never admit it, but you knew how often they talked. If anything, you thought it was sweet. “What did I tell you about getting into fist fights with grown men?”

“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “He deserved it.”

“Yeah no doubt about that, but that doesn’t mean you should pick fights with notoriously aggressive people. A man, at that.” Your phone vibrated against your head. You pulled it back to see he was FaceTiming you. You grabbed your headphones from your pocket, slipping one in your ear and accepting the video. When it connected, his face was uncomfortably close to the camera.

“Are you trying to say men are stronger than women?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, I’m saying he’s twice your size and is crazy enough to kill you.” He pulled his phone back, letting you get the full view of his face.

“Is that Alex?” You asked, noticing a figure sitting on his couch behind him, hopefully changing the topic for good. He moved so you could see the sofa. “Brother!” You exclaimed. He turned his head to look at the camera. He immediately waved, a smile crossing his face.

“So you’re excited to see him, but not me?” Sam feigned a look of hurt, sitting next to your eldest brother.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You laughed. “He’s my favourite.”

“You’re my favourite too, squirt!” Alex was clearly high, Xbox controller in his hand and a bowl of cereal on his lap in front of him.

“Thanks, guys.” Sam scoffed, setting his phone up on the coffee table, already tired of holding it up.

“Are you guys stoned at eight in the morning?” You asked, barely being able to control your giggles.

“It’s the weekend, baby. Time doesn’t exist.” Alex stated, giving a lazy smile. “When are you coming home?”

“You guys could always come visit me!” You exclaimed, checking to see how far the line had progressed. The two muttered an agreement, but didn’t give a straight answer. You knew they would; at least twice a year all of your brothers flew out to stay for a while, but it was hard to coordinate. Five schedules aligning was not easy in the adult world. “I’ve got four exams and three essays to do in the next two weeks. After that, I’ll come home to visit for a little while.” You assured him. As much as they got on your nerves growing up, they were, without a doubt, your best friends in the whole world.

“If she doesn’t get herself killed.” Sam interjected.

“Yeah, I heard about that, Squirt.” Alex said, now putting his focus fully on you. “I know we taught you how to fight, but you can’t put yourself in danger. You seem to be getting into fights every time you go out.” There it was; the concerned older brother act.

“Yeah, whatever. I was perfectly fine. He’s a little bitch, anyway. Hopefully he takes the hint this time.” You stepped forward, realizing you were next in line. “Listen, I’ll call you guys later. I’ve got to order.” You told them. A look of sadness crossed their faces. You felt guilty, knowing you had been neglecting them lately. “I love you both. I promise I’ll call tonight before bed.”

“Okay, I’ll hold you to it.” Alex pointed at the camera, a stern look on his face. You chuckled. “We love you too.”

“Try not to punch the barista if they get your order wrong.” Sam snickered.

“Fuck you, Sam.” You couldn’t help but smile while you said it. “You’re still my least favourite.” This time, your voice caught the attention of someone ahead of you that was waiting for their order. He looked over, catching sight of you smiling down at your phone. He was shocked, blinking hard and wondering if he was just imagining you standing in line. When his eyes refocused and you were still there, his heart sped.

“Love you!” Sam exclaimed just as you ended the call. You shoved your phone back in your pocket, taking out your earbud.

“Who’s Sam?” A low voice sounded from in front of you. You looked up, eyes wide at the sudden interaction. A smirk was adorned on a set of lips that you hadn’t been able to get out of your head all morning.

“Jake?” You whispered, not believing you’d ran into him.

“We meet again, witchy woman.” His smile was wide, teeth showing and eyes crinkled.

“You really must be following me, rockstar.” You couldn’t bite back the grin that was growing.

“I was here first, so I think, if anything, you’re the one following me.” He teased.

“If that’s what you’d like to believe, I’ll let it slide.” You both gave a small chuckle. Silence ensued only for a second before he spoke again.

“Seems like fate really wants us to get to know each other.” You took in the sight of him, light wash jeans and plain grey t-shirt, sunglasses low on his nose. Somehow, he was still just as attractive as he was the night prior, proving the liquor wasn’t skewing your opinion. “So, is this Sam some competition for me?” He asked. You let out a little laugh, shaking your head.

“He’s my younger brother. No need to worry, rockstar.” He cocked his head to the side, a noise of humour falling from him.

“I’ve got a younger brother named Sam, too.” His eyes scanned your face, making you a bit nervous. You definitely weren’t wearing your best attire, but he still seemed to look at you like you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“Small world, huh?” You breathed.

“Very,” the conversation was interrupted by the cashier calling you over. Jake turned, looking at the worker and stepping out of your way. He followed you to the counter, though, not wanting you to leave his sight.

“Uh, can I get my usual coffee and a blueberry muffin, please?” You asked her. She rang it in, not having to ask for any clarification. You’d frequented the cafe so often that they usually knew what time of day you’d be there.

“Anything else, y/n?” She asked. You shook your head, holding up your debit card.

“I’ll get it.” Jake whispered, gently nudging you out of the way.

“No, you don’t have to.” You shot him down.

“I insist,” he pulled his card out, tapping it before you had the chance. You shook your head, knowing he was never going to let you pay. You pulled out a five dollar bill from the back of your phone case, setting it down on the counter. The two of you walked to the waiting area silently, not sure where to go from there. You only waited a second before Jake’s order was up on the counter. He grabbed it, not making any move to leave.

“Any plans for the day?” You looked at him through the corner of your eye.

“I think I have a pretty clear schedule.” He smiled. “What about you?”

“I think I could fit you in.” You whispered, turning your head towards him. “I owe you a memorable time in Baltimore, if I remember correctly.”

“Hm, yeah,” he pretended to ponder, his thumb and forefinger taking to his chin. “I think I do recall something about that.” You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “What do you have in mind, miss engineer?” You watched him for a moment, slightly amazed that he’d remembered what you told him the night before.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” A worker placed your order on the counter, giving you a wave. You returned it, feeling slightly guilty that you couldn’t remember his name. “Thanks! I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You said, grabbing your cup and the little bag that adorned your breakfast. You gave Jake a look, nodding your head towards the door. The two of you hurried out, returning to the crowded sidewalk. “There’s a little park on the next street over. It’s usually pretty quiet there, if you wanted to eat in peace.” You told him. He gave a nod, instantly okay with anything you suggested if it meant he got to spend time with you.

You grabbed his hand, weaving around a corner into a small alleyway that lead to the next street. You only had to walk for a minute before the gates to the recreation area were in view. There was a small playground for the children with a few slides and swing sets, but it was mostly patches of small flower gardens and filled with benches and picnic tables. You made your way towards a secluded table that was shaded by a tree, never once letting go of the boys hand. You sat down, motioning for him to take a seat across from you. The first few moments were filled with silence, neither of you sure of what to say. Eventually, he spoke up.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he chuckled, looking up at you and taking his sunglasses off.

“That makes two of us.” You said, taking your muffin out and unwrapping it. “Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”

“It was my pleasure.” He assured you.

“I think you forgot to mention that your band was pretty popular, rockstar.” You picked at the top of the muffin, taking small bits off at a time. “You’re telling me I’ve got to compete with almost a million other girls?”

“So you looked me up?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry, I tried to find you too.” He admitted, eyes falling on his coffee cup. “Turns out there’s a lot of people with the same first name as you.”

“Well, my parents weren’t too original with names, seeing as we have brothers with the same one.” You joked. “Was that him at the bar with you, last night?”

“Yeah, all of my brothers were there. Sam is the taller one with long hair. Josh is the one with the half-assed mullet.” He chuckled.

“Are you and Josh twins? I thought you looked alike.”

“Yeah, we are. And Danny, he’s our best friend. He’s not actually related to us, but he’s our brother, too.” He explained. You gave a slow nod.

“Curly hair?”

“Yeah,” he replied “and that’s the band.”

“Interesting. So your mom gave birth to a set of musical prodigies?” He let out another laugh, this one louder and more relaxed. You were certain you could listen to it all day.

“I guess you could say that.” He paused, taking a sip of his drink. “What about you? Do you just have the one?” You could have cackled at the thought, not being able to imagine a world with only one brother.

“Four,” he nearly choked on his beverage.

“Wow, okay.” He cleared his throat. “So I’ll have an army after me if I fuck this up.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“They’re all bark, no bite. I throw a better punch than all of them put together.” You assured him. He knew you weren’t lying, recalling the ones you’d thrown the night before. “Alex is the oldest, he’s permanently stoned. Then Will, who hates to admit he’s related to us,” you joked “Austin is the middle child, and he’ll never let us forget it. I’m next, the only girl so ultimately the favourite, and then Sammy, the baby, and the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my whole life.”

“I think that’s a brother thing.” He confided, agreeing with you.

“So it’s just you and your two brothers? Well, and the rent-a-kid?” He let out another belly-laugh, making it hard for you to hold back a smile.

“No, we have a sister, too. Her name’s Veronica.”

“So technically we have the same type of family. A fuck ton of brothers and one lonely girl in the mess of testosterone.” You said, swallowing down another bit of muffin.

“Seems so,” he picked at the sandwich he���d bought for himself. “Now I know why you can fight like that.” Your cheeks tinged pink at the memory.

“Only when it’s deserved.” You corrected.

“Yeah, seemed like that guy did deserve it.”

“You have no idea.” He didn’t respond right away, but his eyes lingered over you. There was so much he wanted to ask; so much he was itching to know, but he had no clue where to begin, or if you even wanted that.

“I’d like to know, if you’re ever willing.” He finally said. You watched him for a moment, not giving him any reaction.

“Do you really, though?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you really want to hear the stories, or do you just want to fuck and move on?” You studied his face, waiting to see a hint of a lie in his answer.

“I want to know.” He said, just as serious as you were. “I really like you, y/n.” You chuckled, leaning back and looking away from him now.

“Yeah, they all say that.” You dismissed him.

“I’m serious,”

“You don’t even know me, Jake.”

“Then let me.” His stern tone brought your attention back to him. “You had me head over heels just by existing last night. Then, you leave without my number and we just happen to run into each other again? You have to feel something, too. I can’t be making this up.” You took a long sip from your latte, avoiding the statement for as long as you could.

“I do, too.” You eventually sighed. “But that doesn’t matter. I said I was done with relationships. Even if we try to start something, you’re leaving. I’m never going to see you again.”

“You think I’d leave and never see you again?” He wasn’t condescending when he asked, but more inquisitive. You gave a shrug.

“You travel the world for a living. You meet new girls every day, ones throwing themselves at you non-stop. I can’t compete with that. I’m stuck here for at least two more years. You’re going to forget about me as soon as you step foot on that plane.” Your fingers played with the sleeve on the cardboard cup, scared to look up at his face.

“I’m interested in you. I knew from the minute I saw you at the bar last night, I wanted to know you. You’ve got nobody to compete with, because you’re the only person I’m looking at.” He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “There is no possibility of me ever forgetting about you, even if this doesn’t go anywhere.” He caught your eyes. You held his gaze for a moment. The sincerity he held in them was something you’d never seen before.

“Okay,” you straightened up, leaning closer to him. “I will give you my phone number. If, after you leave, of course,” you paused “you’re still thinking about me, use it.” A grin started to blossom on his lips. “But you better mean it, rockstar. There’s no back and forth, or changing your mind every other day: if you want it, you can have it, but I do not fuck around and I do not give second chances.”

“Thank god, because I don’t think I could leave here without it.” You both shared a giggle, feeling the tension dissipate. “You don’t have to worry about having to give me a second chance. I’m not stupid enough to do something that would risk losing you.” A small smile broke out on your face, comfortable with the agreement.

“Okay, rockstar. I’ll hold you to it, then.” You said, reaching across the table. His hand found yours immediately, thumb running over the smooth skin. Your fingers danced together, becoming familiar with the feeling of holding each other. You noticed the callouses on his fingertips, prominent on his otherwise soft hand. “Give me your phone.” Without question, he used his free hand to pull it from his pocket. He placed it in front of you after unlocking it. You picked it up, going straight to his contacts and adding your number. You clicked the icon for the camera, holding the phone up and taking a quick picture of your smiling face. You left the nickname blank, letting him make that decision on his own.

He took it back, studying it for a moment before typing something in. After a second, your own phone chimed, signifying a new message coming through. You looked at it, unable to hold back a laugh. He had texted a simple ‘hi’ with a smiley face. You sent one back, setting his contact name as ‘Rockstar’. “Thinking of me already?” You teased.

“Had to make sure you gave me your real number.” He put his phone back in his pocket, wanting to keep his full attention on you.

“Don’t trust me?”

“Just don’t want you to get away again.” He breathed. The uncertainty about him was slowly disappearing the longer you were around him. Silence ensued again, his hand still intertwined with yours. The coffee in your cup was quickly coming to an end, and you were eager to show him around the town, now.

“Come on,” you stood, finishing the last of your drink and tossing your garbage in a nearby trash can.

“Where are we going?” He asked, standing, too.

“You’ll see.” You reached for his hand again. He accepted after slipping his glasses back on. You started at a slow pace, in no rush to get anywhere. You led him back to the street the coffee shop was on, passing by a few friendly faces from campus. You stopped in front of the record store, excited to show him what was inside. You prompted him to enter first, following behind him.

He took in the sight; the walls lined with posters and music memorabilia. There were rows of records, sorted by genre and in alphabetical order. He looked at you, giving you a small smile. You waited, wanting to see where he went first. He cautiously approached the rock section, eyes lingering over the surplus of vinyls with a childlike glimmer in them. You looked through bins yourself, but occasionally looked over at him to see what caught his attention. After a moment, he pulled one out. You focused in his direction, trying to see which one he’d grabbed.

“Hendrix?” You asked, recognizing the cover. He nodded, turning it so you could see it too. “That one’s my favourite, I bought it a couple months ago.” You smiled.

“‘Electric Ladyland’ is your favourite?” He asked, now turning his attention fully on you.

“Yeah. Voodoo Child and Crosstown Traffic are my favourite songs from him. ‘Are You Experienced’ was a good album, and it’s almost everyone’s favourite. I have that one too, but that one was my favourite.” You explained. He gave a slow nod, appreciating your opinion. Just as he was about to respond, the calling of your name caught you off guard. You turned, seeing the owner of the store sitting at the register.

“I got your order in, darlin’.” Your expression lit up, immediately leaving Jake to join him at the front of the store. You took a seat on one of the stools he had by the counter. “Was wondering when you were coming back, I was going to give you a call.” He picked up a box from below the counter, setting it in front of you. Jake had joined you now, standing behind you.

“I meant to swing by sooner, just got busy.” You explained. He waved you off, not too worried about it.

“I know you’re busy with all of your schoolwork. You’re here now, that’s what matters.” He assured you. You leaned forward, opening the flaps of the cardboard. You grabbed the records from inside, placing them in front of you. “Some good picks in there.” He complimented.

“Thanks, Dave.” You smiled. Jake watched over your shoulder as you sorted through them. Janis Joplin, The Doors, and a Santana album.

“I had trouble finding the ‘Abraxas’ album.” He admitted. “That’s why it took so long to get it.”

“I’m just glad you found it; I’ve been looking for it for years.” You said, looking up at him. “Thank you so much.”

“No trouble, kid. Let me know if you want anything else.” You nodded, appreciative that he was so kind. “So, who’s this poor boy you’ve got with you today?” He had a smirk on his face, looking behind you at Jake.

“Oh! This is Jake, I met him last night. He’s just in town visiting, so I thought I’d show him some of the best spots.” You were a bit embarrassed that you’d forgotten to introduce him. Jake stepped forward, holding his hand out for the owner to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled.

“You, too. I’m Dave, I own the place.” The older gentleman responded. “You like music, son?”

“Yeah, I do. Same type of stuff she likes.” He informed him. You rolled your eyes, cutting in.

“He’s a musician,” you added. “I haven’t heard him play, but his band is pretty popular from what I’ve seen.”

“Is that so?” Dave was pleasantly surprised. “I was in a band back in my day, didn’t get very far though.” He chuckled. “What’s it called?”

“Oh, uh, Greta Van Fleet.” He answered, seeming a bit shy from being put on the spot. Dave stood, looking past him for a moment before walking towards the mounds of records. He looked through a bin for a moment before stopping and pulling one out. He flashed the cover towards you both. “Yeah, that’s us!” Jake let out a small laugh, shocked at the sight.

“I did a big order a couple weeks ago, when I was browsing I saw the name pop up, thought I’d bring some in. I haven’t got a chance to listen to one yet, though.”

“That’s super cool,” Jake said, his cheeks slightly pink. You grinned at the interaction, knowing he was amazed that his record was here. Dave brought it over, handing it to you so you could get a look. You grabbed it, inspecting it for a moment. “That was our first EP.” He explained. You flipped it around, looking at the songs on the back.

“I think I have some more over there, too.” Dave said, sitting back down in his computer chair. You got up and walked over to where the older man had been moments before. You sifted through and stopped, pulling two more out.

“‘Anthem of the Peaceful Army’, and… ‘The Battle at Garden’s Gate’?” You asked.

“Yeah, those are ours, too.” He walked over to meet you, his hand falling on your lower back and looking over your shoulder.

“What’s your best album, rockstar?” You turned your head to look up at him. He wasn’t very much taller than you, more or less the perfect height.

“I don’t think I could pick a favourite.” He chuckled. “That one’s our newest one, the one we’re doing the tour for, now.” He pointed at the black album with gold detail. “But the other ones all paved the way for us to get here.”

“Spoken like a true musician.” You giggled, taking them back to the counter with you. “I guess I’ll have to check them all out, then.” He broke off, still browsing through all of the options.

“You’re buying all of them?” He asked, not believing what he’d heard.

“Well, if I’m gonna be your biggest fan, I’m going to have to commit to it, aren’t I?” He smiled to himself at your words. “I do expect an autograph, though.”

“I think I can do that.” He called back as you gathered all of your purchases. Dave rang them in on his register, grabbing a bag for you when he finished. You pulled out your card, completing the transaction without a word. Dave bagged the records, handing you a receipt. Jake appeared behind you again, now placing something of his own on the counter. You looked down, recognizing the cover immediately. He’d picked up the self-titled Eagles album, which contained the song he’d pegged as your nickname. When he caught you looking, he gave a smirk. “Maybe I can get your autograph, too.” He joked.

“You guys are all set.” Dave said, handing Jake his receipt. “Nice to meet you, Jake.” He said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you, too, sir.” Jake replied. Dave chuckled at the formality.

“Be careful with her, now. She’s a wild one.” It was your turn to laugh, opening the door for your company.

“Don’t scare the man away, Dave!” You teased.

“You know I’m joking. He seems like he can handle ya.” He gave a chuckle. “See you later, y/n.”

“Bye!” You called out as you stepped outside. Jake gently let the door fall closed behind him, making sure it didn’t slam. You looked at him over your shoulder as you continued to walk up the street, admiring the way the sun casted over his face.

You didn’t know him yet, but every part of you wanted to. From what you’d seen of him already, he was different than any boy who’d pursued you before. He was careful, collected and quiet, but he looked at you like a person, rather than just someone to fuck. Even if you never saw him again, the memory of knowing him for a day was worth more than knowing someone lesser for a lifetime. He caught up to you, grabbing your hand before you could get too far away from him. He wasn’t sure where you were taking him, but he was happy to be with you. You walked in silence, bag of records swinging in time with your steps. You couldn’t help but think about how nice his hand felt in yours, wondering if fate really was at play for you to end up here.

You brought him to a large recreation centre, seeing bodies pooling around the doorway. You politely passed through, leading him inside. The usually empty main room buzzed with chatter, small booths and tables lining the perimeter with a few large strips through the middle. “Farmer’s market?” He asked, taking in the sight.

“Yeah, every Sunday they usually have one here. They’ve got lots of cool stuff. Hope you don’t mind.” You smiled.

“No! I think it’s nice,” he assured you. “I love stuff like this.”

“I usually check it out every week. Something small to get out of the house, plus they have produce and preserves, other farm fresh food, and lots of little knickknacks. I like getting to know the vendors, too.” You explained. He listened carefully, nodding along with your words.

“You seem to know everyone. The bartender, that bouncer, the guy from the record store…” he listed, trailing off at the end.

“I love people. I think they’re interesting.” You explained, walking forward to a small booth with homemade jams. “I think everybody’s story is worth telling, but nobody ever wants to listen, so I do. It��s made me some fantastic friendships, although some unlikely.” You chuckled, peering at the different flavours on the labels of the jars. “It’s also gotten me into some sticky situations, like the guy at the bar. I like to see the best in people, but unfortunately some people are just bad. Seems like we always figure that out after it’s too late.”

His eyes never left you, soaking in your explanation. “But, I wouldn’t change it, I guess. As much as that particular person sucked, I never would have known for sure if I never got to know him. Everybody deserves a chance, but rarely do they deserve a second. Hence why I told you that, earlier.”

“Is that why you decided to get to know me?” He asked, looking over your shoulder at a bottle you’d picked up.

“I’ll take this one, please.” You smiled at the lady selling.

“Five dollars, please.” She smiled. You fished some change from your wallet, handing it over to her.

“Thank you.” You smiled. “Hope business is well today.” The older woman smiled, letting you know it was, then wishing you a good day. You moved on, Jake following and still waiting for a response. “I suppose so,” you finally told him “after the last guy, I kind of swore off romance in general. When Mike told me you were asking about me, I wasn’t really interested, like at all.” You gave a humourless chuckle. “But you came over, and you were attractive, and I was drunk. Thought one drink wouldn’t hurt and it would end there. Then you started talking, and you were genuinely interested in what I had to say. I’m not used to that. When I talk to everyone, they love telling me about their life, because nobody’s ever really asked them, but a lot of them forget to do it back.”

“I don’t know how anyone would not want to hear all about you,” he mumbled. You shrugged it off.

“You’d be surprised. Some people go their whole lives without being asked about themselves, so when the time comes, they’re so happy about it that they forget how lonely it feels.” You explained. “And that’s fine. I like listening, way more than I’ve ever liked telling. I made it a point to get to know as many people as I could when I moved here. In three years, I could probably tell you more stories about the residents here than others who’ve known them their entire lives. But I suppose it does get a little isolating, knowing so much about everyone, but nobody really knowing me.” He was captivated in your story, really wanting to hear what you were telling him. He didn’t want to make you feel like others had. You walked to the next booth, looking at a row of handmade jewelry.

“When you wanted to know me, when you asked me all of those questions… it just made me feel a bit different, I think. I was really going to let you take me home. Then all of that other shit happened, and I was worried that you’d believe the stuff he was saying.” Jake was taken back, sad that you even considered he’d believe a bad word about you without knowing you. “You wouldn’t have been the first.” You sighed. “When I was running away, I regretted it before I even lost sight of you. I wanted to turn back, but I guess I was scared. I still am, but that’s a different story.” You picked up a beaded bracelet with a small charm hanging from it, inspecting it carefully.

“I think that would suit you very well, y/n.” You looked up, noticing the person on the other side of the table.

“Well hello, Linda.” You smiled. “I haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Yeah, I took a little break, but had some free time and decided to come back.” She told you.

“How’s your daughter doing?” You asked.

“She’s good, getting eager for the fall. I made sure to let her know all of that stuff you told me about the school. And she even bought her prom dress, yesterday.”

“Exciting!” You exclaimed. “Did she end up going with the red one?” The woman nodded, a sad smile crossing her lips.

“I can’t believe she’s all grown up.” She sighed.

“Time flies, but she’s gonna do awesome. Cognitive Science is a super competitive program, so she’s already ahead of the game.” You promised. “And she has my number if she needs any help around campus.” You reminded.

“And we appreciate it, very much.” The woman assured you. “You graduate your bachelor this year, right?” You nodded, a grin breaking out on your face.

“It’s crazy, but yeah. It’s been a long few years, but I’m ready to move on to the next challenge.” You told her.

“Have the bracelet, dear. As a graduation present, and a thank you for all your help.”

“Oh, no, Linda. That’s okay, I know you work hard on these.”

“No, really! I’m more than happy to, you’re always such a pleasure to talk to. You’ve been so helpful with the university thing. I never went, I have no idea how to help her and you always have an answer.” She smiled. You returned it, feeling your heart swell with affection.

“Thank you, and I love helping you guys out. You’ve always been kind to me. Like I said, if she has any questions don’t be scared to give me a call.” You said.

“Of course, have a good rest of your day, dear.”

“You, too!” You returned the well wish before continuing on your journey. Jake could only laugh at the interaction.

“You really do know everyone.” He said, watching you slip the bracelet on.

“Like I said, I come here every weekend. She used to be here all of the time, I got to know her pretty well. Her daughter got accepted to Hopkins in the fall, so I’ve been helping them transition into it.”

“That’s really nice of you.” He said. His attention was caught by a stand overflowing with freshly cut flowers. He noticed that you’d already found your focus on a produce booth, looking over the fruits and vegetables. He managed to break away from you without you knowing, sneaking across the walkway to look over the bouquets.

His eyes landed on a bunch of wildflowers, finding that it seemed to suit you better than any of the different coloured roses. He asked the vendor if he could take that one, pulling out his wallet and checking if you’d noticed he was gone. The lady asked if he wanted a card for it, to which he gave a nod. “Uh, can I borrow a pen?” He asked, a bit sheepishly as he handed the money over the counter. She gave him his change and a pen. He used the small open space on the counter to scribble a note on the card.

Lucky to be the one to know you, witchy woman

- your rockstar x

He handed it back, thanking her and quickly turning back to you. He noticed you were just finishing up buying a basket of food, relieved that you hadn’t caught him in the act. As you were putting your wallet back in your pocket, you finally turned to notice Jake wasn’t beside you anymore. You turned slightly, looking behind you to try and locate him. He was standing with a childish grin, holding the flowers to his chest when you caught sight of him. You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a redness creep to your cheeks.

“For me?” You asked as he stepped towards you.

“No, I bought them for Josh, actually. Just because he’s such a great brother.” He joked, causing a laugh to fall from your lips.

“I don’t know him, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” You continued on with the humour. He extended his arm, holding them out for you. You took the bouquet, inspecting the beauty of it. Your eyes fell over the card, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you read the words. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.” He gave you an incredulous look. You shrugged at his response.

“I’m glad I could be the first,” he chose not to say what he wanted to about your past relationships, trying to keep the interaction as light as possible.

“Thank you, Jake.” You leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, lingering there for a moment. He smiled to himself, looking down at you with a hint of a blush. You rearranged your items, placing the flowers into the basket with your produce. He stopped you, taking it from your hand completely.

“I’ll hold it for you. I’ve only got one bag.” He assured you, making sure the flowers were secure before you continued walking.

“And to finish what I was saying earlier,” you said as you turned the corner to the next aisle of tables. “It sucked leaving you there last night. I really wanted to turn around, or to tell you to come with me, but I got in my own head. Same with this morning. I could have followed your Instagram and shot you a message, but I’m still scared, I think. My love life has never been too kind to me, and I grouped you in with the rest of them. I don’t think that was fair.” You explained.

“I get why, though. When we get hurt enough, we tend to forget that good people still exist. It’s normal, and I don’t hold that against you.” You looked up at him, studying him for a moment.

“What about you, rockstar?” He met your eyes, cocking his eyebrow up as if to ask ‘what’. “You seem to be very understanding about it, so I can only assume it’s happened to you, too.” He didn’t answer right away, formulating the best way to respond.

“Playing music has always been my dream, you know.” He started. You gave a nod, clinging on to his story, wanting to know him as bad as he wanted to know you. “And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I get to spend every day with my brothers, making awesome music that makes people feel something.” You found yourself smiling softly, feeling the passion for his work just by the tone of his voice. “But it gets lonely. Personal lives and fame don’t really… mix. I have friends, yeah, but not a lot of good ones. It’s hard, you know, always being gone. People don’t try to keep in contact, or they think that I don’t miss them because I’m so busy travelling the world.” He paused, looking down at you for a second. “And a lot of people don’t want to know me, for me. They like the fame, or the superficiality, because they feel like they only need to know me on a surface level and never have to put in too much effort.”

Your heart ached at his words, realizing that you may have misjudged him in the beginning. No doubt he was lonely on the road, never having any constants. And you had no doubt that loads of people wanted to know him for the fame, or perks, or the novelty of knowing a musician. You felt a little guilty, knowing that you assumed he’d forget about you once he’d left town; he was a person, too. He seemed genuine, and you felt he was quite similar to yourself. He seemed to want to know people fully, and beneath his nonchalant exterior, it appeared like he loved to love people. In the short time you’d known him, he’d been more caring and attentive with you than anyone you’d met before.

“I had a couple girlfriends over the years, but it was hard for them. I get why, but it still sucked. I, uh, leaned pretty fast that loyalty isn’t a priority when your boyfriend is gone all of the time.” He let out a small, humourless laugh. Your eyes softened as they scanned the tabletops for new trinkets. You looked up at him, now turning to face him fully. He caught your gaze, jaw hard set and no real emotion peeking through. “S’okay, though. That stuff happens. I would never, but I think they thought I was doing the same thing.”

“I don’t think that makes it okay,” You whispered. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“I’m sorry for the ones before me, too.” You gave a small shake of your head.

“You don’t have to apologize for them.”

“You don’t, either.” He said, giving a small, reassuring smile.

“You know, I think that maybe we were supposed to run into each other this morning.” You thought aloud. “I think I like you, Jake the rockstar.” He let out a laugh.

“And I know I like you, y/n the engineer.”

“I really started to like you when I realized you remembered everything I told you about myself.” You confessed. “You cared enough to remember.” You whispered, more to yourself than him.

“Of course I do, miss bio-engineer who’s finishing her degree early, from Washington state, who knows everyone because she finds people interesting, with a great music taste and a smile that can take anyone’s breath away, who also has four brothers.” He rattled off, taking a deep breath in when he finished. Both of you fell into a fit of laughter. “And who can throw a punch that will knock a grown man off his feet.” He added.

“I am amazed.” You bowed your head to him. He let out a chuckle, beginning to walk again and guiding you along with him.

The two of you continued on around the market, finally leaving with bag fulls of items. When you went back outside, the streets had cleared slightly. Most people were getting back home to have dinner with their families. As you stood on the sidewalk, you began to realize this was the time the two of you were likely to part ways, but the thought of it made your stomach churn. Jake sat down on a bench outside of the building, placing his items beside him. You joined him on his other side, not willing to break the silence if it meant you had to say goodbye. His hand found your thigh, resting a few inches above your knee. You placed yours on top of his, your thumb running over his below yours.

“I had a good day with you.” You finally said, being unable to satiate the need to talk to him.

“Me too.” He whispered.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Me either.” Silence hung thick in the air again. His fingers squeezed your leg gently, assuring you that the quiet was anything but awkward. You watched the clouds in the sky, the sun feeling nice on your face.

“When do you leave, rockstar?” You finally asked the dreaded question.

“Tomorrow night.” He breathed.

“Come home with me, tonight.” You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying. It was mostly from the heart. The repercussions were large if the night went poorly, but you were so smitten with him that they didn’t matter to you any more.

“Are you sure?” He asked, more of a formality than anything. He was wishing you would ask all day long. You gave a nod. “You can come to the hotel with me, if you’d rather.” He offered.

“I don’t care where we go, I just want to be with you.” You admitted. “But I do have to take my stuff home, and my roommates are probably worried about me, so I should check in with them.”

“I want to be with you, too. Let’s get your stuff home, then. Maybe I’ll get a house tour out of it. We’ll just go from there, like we’ve been doing all day.” He grinned. The two of you stood, rearranging your bags so they were the most comfortable way to carry, and you led him back to your house without another word or a care in the world.

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner #greta van fleet #gvf fic #sam gvf #gvf #sam kiszka #josh gvf #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gvf imagine #gvf x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #writing #fics #gvf fandom #gvf fanfiction #fanfic #spitfire #gvf series #builtbybrokenbells

[justice4daisyjohnson]

Studio Time

Daisy Jones x Reader

Summary: Daisy decides to stay behind with you while you work.

warnings: none, pure fluff.

(a/n: trying to normalize random daisy fluff)

masterlist | taglist | requests: open

You first met Daisy when Simone introduced you to her at a party. It was really dark but you remember noticing her eyes first, then her hair, then her smile. She couldn't look more gorgeous.

You had known Simone through Teddy, one of the best guys you work with. He's like your best friend and father figure trapped in one and plus you make music together so you've had a bond that's like no other.

You knew Daisy because you heard "Look At Us Now" on the radio and fell in love with her voice, you have been begging Teddy to let you meet her.

Daisy was absolutely love-struck when first meeting you, but didn't show it. She hadn't heard of you before meeting you but she couldn't get enough of you when she first met you.

Daisy didn't leave you alone for the rest of the party. She sat with you and talked from music to what she had to eat last night, she felt like an open book with you and that's something she felt like she couldn't get from anyone else.

She left with you in the middle of the party, you couldn't help it. Daisy woke up in the middle of your soft king-sized bed, the sun shining through the hills of your neighborhood.

She found you making breakfast and watching the news and couldn't get enough of you.

You two ended up skinny dipping in your pool while on acid.

Now it's been eight months since you and Daisy have been dating, publicly. Everyone knows if they see you, they should see Daisy wandering around behind you.

Daisy has, for the most part, moved into your home. She spends all weekend from Friday to Monday morning when she goes for studio time for Daisy Jones and the Six.

And you couldn't get enough of her during work either, because she would be in the same building as you while you were recording with another artist. Daisy would visit you for a little while you work or you would join the band with her.

The band also loved you, you got along really well with Warren, Camila (even if she isn't in the band), and Karen. Billy respected you the way he respected Teddy, and you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Daisy was obsessed with your artistic point of view so she would always try to get you to listen to the bands' music. She would want your opinion on every song she wrote and loved to hear everything you would work on.

That's why, when you stayed behind an artist and were fixing some of the recordings, Daisy stayed behind with you.

"Daisy, it's late, you should go home and rest," you say to her, moving the headset from only one ear.

"But... I wanted to stay at your place tonight" Daisy said, you realized she planned this after she couldn't stay over at your house the past weekend because of a little show she performed.

Daisy was currently laying on a couch on the side of the recording booth, reasonably close to you so you were able to see her cute tired face smooshed up. You knew all this haze was the after-effect of the pills you gave her an hour ago and the lines you snorted off the booth.

You got to work for a little before you felt a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Daisy, "Can I sit with you?"

You move the chair back and she sits in your lap and you take off your headphones.

"You okay?" you asked, worried she didn't feel good.

"Just wanted to be with you"

You nod and get back to work, you let the music run through the studio so Daisy could hear.

You smile as you feel her breath on your skin, happy with just her here as you play music. You knew Daisy when she felt safe, and this was her.

This wasn't her when she was with Billy when she would pick at everything and was impossible to be with. She has no worries when she's with you and you knew this.

Her arms were wrapped around you and you were rubbing her back with your non-dominant hand, as your dominant hand was working the booth.

"That sounds really good" Daisy whispers to you. If she wasn't sitting on top of you, you wouldn't have heard her.

You smile harder, then lean down to kiss Daisy's head.

It was a few minutes later when you heard the door open quietly. You look over and see Teddy at the door, he smiles at you and dims the lights for Daisy.

Daisy pushes her head further into you and breathes in your scent.

You knew Daisy would rather be here than anywhere else on the world right now, and it comforted you to have her. Daisy knew you grew up alone like her, no siblings and no family, so she understood you and you understood her.

“Are we actually going to stay the night here or are we going home?” Daisy grumbles into your neck and you laugh lightly.

Home, you think.

#daisy jones imagine #daisy johnson x you #daisy johnson angst #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the 6 #daisy jones x reader #daisy jones #daisy jones edit #daisy jones and the six imagines #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones aesthetic #daisy jones spoilers

[raytorosaurus]

hi Raytorosaurus, in the beginning of your post you said Ray has done interviews, podcasts, and blogged in recent years, can you please link me to those things? I would be extremely and eternally grateful <3

yes ofc!! this one by tom bryant (author of not the life it seems) is my favourite! and not just because ray talks about how much he loves being a stay at home dad doing chores while his wife gets her master's degree. it's just sweet, and goes a little more in depth into remember the laughter's concept than some of these other interviews.

this one isn't remember the laughter related, but tom bryant also did this interview with him the year before, after he released for the lost and brave dedicated to leelah alcorn (cw non-graphic discussion of suicide). it's really fucking sweet. ray talks a lot about his family and about fatherhood and about how he wants to raise his kids to be as kind and socially conscious as possible in pretty much all of the interviews i've linked here, but i really fucking love this thing he says in this one in particular:

"If ever my son was having a rough time I would just hope that he would trust me and allow me to be there for him. It’s common for parents and older people to look at youth in a negative way and to not respect the young as people. My wife always says that a lot of parents treat their kids like property – the whole, ‘this is my house, these are my rules and you must abide by my law’. You have to put yourself on the same level as your kid, you have to relate to them as a person. I hope that there’s more understanding about the differences between people in the future that my son grows up in.”

at the risk of sounding like a broken record, this one is also really fucking sweet. again he talks about the values he wants to impart on his kids, and how his son is featured in the lucky ones playing his child's percussion set :'''')

this one is a bit longer and just rly cute lol like just fun vibes

there's a couple of shorter ones here and here that are also worth a read. there's also this review that i like - it's not 100% positive but the writer does make a point of saying he's shocked the album didn't get much attention despite ray having been in mcr. yeah me too dude :(

this is a podcast he appeared on - he did at least one or two others but i think sadly they've been lost to time :(((((( but god this one is so sweet he's just sooooo. so <3. ray also says the band broke up a few weeks after his son was born in september 2012 which is interesting lol.

sadly a bunch of his blog stuff has been lost to time because the wayback machine has done a spotty job of archiving it but you can try to explore around the archived pages a bit. if you click around to different dates or subpages you can see some of his photography (tho sadly a lot of it hasn't been saved :((( ) and a few blog posts. you might even come across his shitty vent poetry lol <3333

and then i love this interview sooooo much too like this writer really gets it. ray talks about how he got obsessed with this free climber after watching a mountaineering documentary which inspired the great beyond, so the great beyond actually features a fucking chalk bag as a percussion instrument because he's insane and i love him. it also has the line "enthusiasm leaking from him like a punctured capri-sun" LOL. and then it wraps up with this statement that i really love:

Mixed, engineered and almost entirely performed by Toro, ‘Remember The Laughter’ is very much this man’s pride and joy. Every nuance of the record is explained with intricate detail and the subject matter held within comes straight from his heart. Whether you like it or not remains to be seen, as its influences are often drawn from well outside the My Chemical Romance sphere. Whether you listen to it or not, though, really comes down to this: do you want to hear some honest music?

because honestly that's the one common thread through all of mcr's discography and every single one of their solo projects. they are all 100% earnest. they all access that honesty in different ways and ray's definitely not a super accomplished lyricist so some of the lines on rtl verge on corny or schmaltzy sometimes but they never, ever sound fake or inauthentic. he wrote the album imagining he was speaking the lyrics to his son to instill a sense of hope in him about the world so he'd grow up with the belief that he was capable of making it a better place and he fucking means every word of it bro. he's ray toro :( i like him :((((

#reread a bunch of these while i was putting this together and now i'm down so fucking bad for him this happens every time #like why are you the most lovable man in the universe huh #anyway sorry this took me a while to get to life is crazy huh #answered #ray toro #rtl #interview #ref

[anticmiscellaney]

no pressure to answer and im sorry if you've said this before but where did the title new/old/rare come from?

It's named after a very average record label compilation that I bought way back in 2002 because it included a song I couldn't get anywhere else by a band I used to go see all the time. I always liked the title and it seemed appropriate for this project for a range of thematic reasons, but also Blueline Medic came from a band called Caustic Soda, who wrote a song called Photocopied, which was the first song I successfully turned into visual artwork, and I discovered Jawbreaker from the sticker on the bass guitar when I saw that video on Rage one night as a teenager, and then when I finally saw Jawbreaker in April 2022 I came home and wrote this comic about Louis seeing them in March 1996, which led to me figuring out the overall story of what had up until then just been a series of loosely connected drawings.

Before everything was available on the internet, releases being old or rare often meant you couldn't get them, you might not ever hear/see them, and new releases may take months or even years to become available to you. Part of being into film and music was searching, archiving, collecting, sharing, bootlegging, waiting, and speculating. These days I likely wouldn't have to buy a whole CD just to hear one song. Smalltime local band singles are available on Bandcamp, not just at their shows. Archives of old or niche films are often hosted on streaming sites, or even lovingly restored and rereleased. This is all cool and I enjoy it, but it's new. Please remember that it's new, that in my relatively short lifetime it has changed hugely.

People have always cared and now it's so much easier to share these things, but there's still value in things being tied to times and places, in parts of life being ephemeral and transitory. I think you need external markers of times in your life that you can revisit or avoid as you choose, otherwise you'll end up adrift. Something being rare or limited isn't always bad; of course we don't get to experience everything we'd like to and it's important to pursue and value what you can. I pursued live music single-mindedly from when I was 12 or 13 until I moved overseas at 19, and while I've never stopped going to see bands or being very into music, that particular time of my life was unique. I can't replicate it and I don't want to because as much as I joke I've not changed (and wear band t-shirts I bought in 2001), I'm not the same person. I still remember though.

This story is partly about the balance between digging through the past and making space in your life for new things, about handling change and choosing what to let go, what to archive, what to keep, what to keep looking for. It's also literally about music and film.

Most of the places I used to go are gone now of course, and most of the bands have broken up and moved on. I'm gone too, I live on the other side of the world, but I like to put references in my work. I guess it's my way of saying this happened and it was important to me, these things other people made, those places, that time, they were small and brief but they mattered and I remember. Some things don't come back and all you have is memories of them, but sometimes bands who broke up in 1990 do a reunion show and you score a ticket.

Don't count on it though. Enjoy what you can when you have it, and if you miss it, don't dwell too much. Looking for the next thing to be excited and intrigued by is the best way to find it.

In the comic linked above, when Neil says they'll have a chance to see Jawbreaker together soon, he's wrong: Jawbreaker broke up a few months later and didn't play again until 2017. I think they would have gone together then though, I think they both remembered.

#replied #newoldrare

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Eddie x Reader at a metal concert, but it's a cinderella situation. They party together but the band announces it's time for an encore and reader suddenly has to leave right now immediately 👀👀👀 (thank you if you get to this!!!!)

omg this is such a cute idea!! and i had so much fun with it too 🥰 thank you for the request my love 🫶

Eddie had been dying to go to this concert for WEEKS

The other guys couldn’t make it, but nothing was going to keep him from going to see Exodus, even if it meant he had to go alone

He didn’t mind it, and it’s not like he hasn’t gone to shows alone before

But the moment he stepped into the venue he knew it would be different

He had bumped into you while making his way up closer to the stage, and unfortunately one of the pins on his jacket got caught on one of the loose threads from yours

You laughed it off, knowing that he didn’t do it on purpose, and once you got to talking he found out you were also there by yourself

Similar situation to his, you were supposed to go with your friends but they unfortunately weren’t able to get the money together for the tickets

You even had a few of the same patches on your vests and though Eddie knew he shouldn’t have gotten a crush so quickly on some random girl he met at a concert, he really couldn’t help himself

You were absolutely beautiful, clearly had the same taste in music, and you weren’t immediately drawn away from him when he talked to you

He asked if he could stay with you during the concert, you know just cause you’re both alone and he doesn’t want you to get pulled away by some creeps or shoved into the pit when you’re not expecting it

Or whatever excuse he gave you to stay close to you the whole night

He had asked your name but unfortunately as soon as you told him the band started and the music was too loud for him to hear you

All he saw was you mouthing your name, but he had only shrugged it off, hoping he would hear it again later

The show was AMAZING

You and Eddie sang your hearts out to every song they played, he made sure to stand behind you if he knew there was a pit opening up, and he even was able to get you onto his shoulders for a song or two

Not to mention he got to spend the whole night with a gorgeous girl like you enjoying a band that he loved

By the time the concert was over, he didn’t want the night with you to end, but as you walked out of the venue you saw the time and panicked

Your parents hadn’t known you were out by yourself and knew they would be pissed if they just so happened to check your room and you weren’t there

Before running off to your car Eddie grabbed your hand and asked if he’d see you again, and you promised you would, grabbing a pen from your pocket and scribbling down your number on the back of his hand and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before running off once more

He was upset he still didn’t know your name, but at least he had your number to go off of

The area code was just off of Hawkins’, meaning you probably lived just outside of town, but unfortunately the last two numbers were accidentally smudged

He wasn’t phased by it though, there was only… 100 numbers it could be

The very next day he wrote every one of them onto a notepad to try every single one of them until he finally found the right one

But he didn’t realize it would probably take all day

He called and called, asking if the person on the other end went to an Exodus concert last night any time he heard a female voice, but by the time he had gotten halfway through he was starting to lose hope

It was only after asking the same question almost 40 times that the voice on the other end said they went, and he perked up immediately

He was even more surprised to hear that you remembered him too, but he couldn’t be sure if it actually was you…

He asked if you wanted to meet up, just so he could make sure he got the right girl, and you were happy to!

You decided on just meeting up at a local record shop and once he got there and saw you he couldn’t be sure it really was you

You were wearing ‘normal’ clothes and looked almost nothing like you did at the show, but the moment he heard your voice he knew it was you

You apologized for the way you looked, you had only just gotten home from work when he called, but he needed to do one last thing to really make sure it was the mystery girl he saw at the show

He covered his ears to block out any noise and asked you to say your name to him, and though it was a strange request, you giggled it off and did as he said

Once he saw you mouth the same name his eyes lit up and he almost jumped with excitement

He was so happy to finally find his dream girl from the concert and was happily surprised to find out you lived so close to one another

He finally had a chance with a girl he knew he would get along with, and he was excited to get to know more about you and learn about all the other things you loved that weren’t just heavy metal music

He just needed to finally know your name first

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie stranger things

[thisaintascenereviews]

Happy Birthday, Infinity On High.

Everyone’s got those albums that mean the world to them, whether it’s an album that they have specific memories attached to, an album that changed their lives in some kind of way, an album they just love, or an album that got them into music itself or a certain style, and I’m no exception. There are many albums that mean a lot to me, for one reason or another, and I’ve been wanting to work on a top albums list, because I haven’t done that in over a decade, but there are a select few that I put into the upper echelons of my favorite albums. These are the albums that are the best of the best for me, and I don’t have a whole lot of those. I’ve always thought there is a difference between my favorite albums and what the best albums of all time are, because I may love an album and it may be one of the best albums ever made, but it isn’t one of my personal favorites. I need to make a list of my top 25 favorite albums of all time, because that would be a fun and ambitious project, but that’s for another day. Nonetheless, It wouldn’t be a secret to say that my all time favorite album is Fall Out Boy’s third album, and major label debut, 2007’s Infinity On High.

I’ve made that clear many times over the the last decade, at least since I’ve been writing about music, but this is a record that can’t be understated. I’ve written about it a lot, but it’s worth writing about again, because it celebrates its 17th anniversary today. I’m writing this on its anniversary, and I felt compelled to talk about this record again, but I wanted to add something new to the conversation that I haven’t said yet. I’ve already talked at length about how catchy, infectious, and accessible this album was, especially for the band. They signed with Island for this record, and got a huge leg up when it came to guest spots, such as Jay Z providing some vocals for the first track, as well as Babyface writing and producing a couple of songs, which is reflective in its pop, soul, and R&B sound that shows up throughout the album. Infinity On High is their first blatant foray into pop, whereas 2005’s From Under The Cork Tree only flirted with it, and this album set the stage for most of their career afterwards. I would say that this is their most “experimental” album, although 2018’s Mania closely follows that, but Infinity On High is still my favorite album from them, as well as the album that got me into music. Without this album, I don’t know if I’d be the person I am today, or love the same music I do.

That’s also something I’ve talked about at length, but I find myself enjoying this album for different reasons as I’ve gotten older. I used to love it because it was an album that I had never heard before, especially as a teenager. Infinity On High wasn’t bound by labels or ideas, and it moved through different sounds and genres like it was nothing, but these days, I love the album for its unashamed experimentation and willingness to branch out and try new sounds. I didn’t know much about the band going into this album as a kid, but with all the context, and knowing how their career has gone, it makes the album hold up even more. Its experimentation is something I really love about it, but I do love this album for its hooks, melodies, and Patrick Stump’s vocals (the first time he was really able to express himself as a vocalist, and not be held back by standard pop-punk songwriting).

I love this album for different reasons now, but I can’t lie and say that nostalgia isn’t a big part of that. The album holds up extremely well, but this is one of those albums that has the power to take me back to when I was 13, and this album just came out. I have memories listening to this album in a Walkman in 8th grade, as iPods had just come out, or were starting to evolve, and I also kind of remember picking this up when it came out. Music used to come out on Tuesdays, and I didn’t get to go anywhere until Saturday, so I would always go to Target on Saturday, and pick out an album or two, then I’d spend that week listening to them, and only them, so that’s where my “rotation” comes from. I like to listen to a select handful of albums every week or two, at least until I get sick of them, but I remember picking this one up because I had sort of listened to Fall Out Boy before, and I saw that it came out, so I thought, “What the heck,” and the rest is history.

Fall Out Boy became my favorite band after hearing this, and they have the distinction of being my favorite band all of these years later, but it feels right. I’ve had other favorite bands throughout the years, but my music taste has changed, yet the one constant is Fall Out Boy, and that’s the big takeaway from my yearly celebration of this record. Even as I get older, and this record gets older, I still love it, especially as my taste has changed over the years. This is a record that I still love, 17 years later, and I still find reasons to love it even now. I’m gonna play this record today in honor of its birthday, and hopefully you do, too.

#fall out boy #infinity on high #folie a deux #from under the cork tree #take this to your grave #mania #save rock and roll #american beauty american psycho #rock #pop #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #joe trohman

[mementoboni]

[part 1/4] DIR EN GREY WOWOW Interview & Document (2020)

“Of course, I have to face the other four members. I'm carrying their lives and my life is being carried by them as well. I did it with that determination.” — Kaoru

Notes before reading:

The whole interview is divided into 8 topics, and the translation is divided into 4 parts. This is the first part, which includes the previous 2 topics. The details of all topics and time markers are 👉 here.

I have added Chinese subtitles for this video in 2021. The whole interview was very meaningful, and I hope that with the English translation, more people can understand what they're talking about.

The five members were interviewed separately and then edited into a video, so the words spoken by each of them are not necessarily coherent.

Repost and share are welcome.🙌 I translated it all by my ears, so please feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts.☺️

--- --- ---

01. Band Formation ~ Debut

►The Formation of DIR EN GREY

Shinya: All four of us were in the same band except for Toshiya on bass. Then the band broke up and we had to find a new member again. Kyo: Each of us all wanted to be in a band. So after discussion, we decided to get rid of one person and get the four of us together. (*Note: After La:Sadie's disbanded, the four of them decided to form a new band in addition to KISAKI.) Die: We were friends with Toshiya at that time, so we thought about finding all the members and forming a band with him. Toshiya: At that time, their band was gaining momentum. I would like to play with the four of them if it's possible and I happened to be invited. That's what happened.

►Origin of the Band Name

Kaoru: At that time, there was a band that communicated with us very closely. The band had a song called DIR EN GREY*, and that's where our band got its name. I always thought it was a good name, so I suggested it as the name of our band. (*Note: It refers to a song called "Dir en Gray" by the band "LAREINE" (with Kamijo as vocalist), which was formed in 1994.) Kyo: There were two alternative names at that time, the other one was proposed by me, but the final vote was 3:2 so I lost. (laughs)  After I lost, the band name became DIR EN GREY. (*Note: Another name is "如月" (きさらぎ, kisaragi ) → Dir en grey turns 25 today! )

►Looking Back at the time of Debut

Shinya: The three debut singles were produced by YOSHIKI-san. He also played the piano for our song after debut, I had no regrets at that time even if I died, that's how I felt. Kaoru: At that time, we had only recorded once or twice in a decent studio, and we had also recorded in places like homes.  YOSHIKI-san took us straight to a professional recording studio and said, "Let's make the debut single!" without giving us time to think.

. . .

02. Expression

►Awareness in the Creative Process

Die: After all, the band has been around for more than 20 years, therefore, we have to create something more exciting. It's not that I have to do anything, but I try to experiment with all kinds of things. So there are times when we can't be categorized as anything but DIR EN GREY. Shinya: While it is changing over time, now I just want to make songs that I feel good about. Toshiya: Every recording has to add the sound that you think is good, and you must like the songs you create, or you must love them. Kaoru: The overall sense of balance and the feeling that the listener will have, and of course there are many other things.  I would listen to the song several times to feel it, and repeat it over and over again. I can remember it by listening to it over and over again. After listening to it a few times, I will pay attention to interesting pieces, new discoveries, and so on, while I'm composing. Kyo: Most people have a fixed style after 20 years, like "This is the way this person is," but I'm not like that. Of course it's cool to stick to your own unique style, although I can do that and feel like I can keep myself. Kyo: I don't like to make people think that "This is how I am in the end" or something like that, it's not my style. I want to show the changes in each moment directly. When I can't express the music naturally, I may stop, and when I can't create freely, I will stop.

►Things want to Convey through Music

Toshiya: What I/we want to convey is simply "pain (痛み)". Living is a hard thing, and being able to create that power of anger, I think that's our music. Kyo: I am very bad at expressing beautiful things, or is that not for me?  It's... it's irritating.  Maybe it's because I often feel that there is nothing good in the world, and I don't like things that look like fabrications. Shinya: Those are supposed to be in the lyrics, and I don't particularly want to express the pain with the drums. 🤣🤣 Kaoru: I think that varies from person to person, and there is no right answer. For me, I also have a part of myself that I want to convey, so maybe I'm thinking about that while I'm creating.  If I were to say that we all share the same idea, it would be that we can express what we think without hiding it. Die: Being able to feel pain means you are alive, and hope is born from that. The first thing I/we want to convey is "to be alive". (*Screen caption: Feeling pain = Being alive)

►The Motivation for Expression

Kyo: If there is something that I want to convey which will be the motivation, I am not.  I'm just living. Toshiya: It should be the anger and sadness in life, just the two.  If I can express both, I feel I can be saved. Shinya: There will be people who come to see the LIVE, and those fans are my motivation. Kaoru: I think it's because I don't want to admit defeat. I don't want to admit defeat, it should be more like I don't like to admit defeat. I am a weak person, I will want to run away when things happen, and will want to give up when I can't do it. But on this point I still do not want to give in to defeat, I want to do it well. Kaoru: Of course, I have to face the other four members. I'm carrying their lives and my life is being carried by them as well. I did it with that determination. (*Oh, leader sama😳) Die: I think it's LIVE. LIVE is the most direct place to convey ideas and resonate with people. I am moving forward with LIVE as my goal.

(To be continued...)

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part 2. & part 3. & part4.

topics & time marks

中文翻譯 (My Blogger) part 1. & part 2. & part 3.

#dir en grey #kaoru #薰 #kyo #京 #die #toshiya #shinya #interview #interview 2020 #translations #video translation #diru translation #translation by yinfu #diru wowow 2020 #WOWOW interview #long post