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stratossphere · 1 year

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Fic where ville meets the lead singer of another band who’s performing at the same festival of him and he like has the biggest crush on her but whenever he tries to flirt with her it goes horribly wrong and he says the weirdest shit and she just kinda 🧍‍♀️ and he just embarrasses himself the whole time until she finally gets what he’s trying to do and goes out w him

from the band | v.v

ville has it bad for the lead singer of one of the other bands at a festival HIM is playing in, and he has a horrible way of showing it.

warnings: nervous ville, miscommunication at its finest, a tiny hint of mentioned suggestive content

word count: 4.1k

a/n: got a couple of asks kind of like this and combined them into one! also you guys are literal geniuses the plots you send are so good

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @4377666 @althaiascure

— —

Ville usually didn't give a flying shit about who else was playing at any of the festivals HIM was booked for. He was just there to enjoy his gigs, get ridiculously plastered, and maybe cause a little ruckus with the band while they weren't on stage. He didn't really want to be there anyway, as he was getting more homesick for Helsinki by the day and the hot sun was making him feel a little crazy, so it's not like he was actively participating in anything besides the drinking.

Until the last act that had gone on after them came down from the stage and into the artists' area where they were all getting progressively drunker by the minute due to the fact that they'd already played their show and had nothing left to do except drown their livers for the next 16 hours or so.

And where he said he usually didn't give a flying shit about who else was playing, this band did not apply. Because he'd seen this band before, and had seen the lead singer, who was drop dead gorgeous. Ville had never seen another woman like her, and for some reason felt his heart rate picking up like he was a fucking schoolgirl every time they happened to cross paths. And they were definitely crossing paths now, because she was getting a beer from the same cooler that they'd all been drinking out of after they'd come down.

However, he stayed completely silent, only watching her and admiring the smooth way she moved until she was gone. Burton, who had been talking to him specifically while they all sat around together in a circle on empty beer buckets, snorted.

"You're going to scare her off if you keep looking at her like that." He said, pointing very obviously over to Ville's not-so-secret crush as he talked through a swig of his beer. Mige laughed right along with him, nudging Ville's arm.

"Not if she smells him first." He teased, only making Ville scowl harder than he already had been before as he relented under his friends' teasing. They were clearly not on his side here, and the hot sun was making him feel a lot more irritated than usual, so all he did was kick Burton's bucket and elbow Mige right back a lot harder.

"Go fuck yourselves. Are we not allowed to look at other people anymore?" He spoke in a hostile tone as he threw a hand in the air, finishing off the last of his beer after he spoke and then crushing the can in his hand with enough force to displace some of his irritation. Gas shrugged.

"...do you look at us like you want to shove your hand down our pants?" That triggered a completely new wave of laughing and guffawing at Ville's expense. Even Linde, who usually couldn't be bothered to do more than roll his eyes, was snickering. They were being so loud that it had drawn her attention over in their direction, and then before he knew it, she was staring right at Ville. Which was horrible timing, because at that moment all he was doing was glaring. She clearly seemed taken aback by the sight of him when their eyes connected, and Ville mentally slapped himself when she quickly looked away.

"Now look what you fucking idiots did." He grumbled, standing up from where he'd been sitting in pursuit of another beer. His nerves were swimming with irritation despite the pile of beer cans he'd ingested by this time of day, and he needed more. "All you pricks know how to do is scare women away."

"Yeah, well you're not doing much better. Bet you 15 that she wouldn't give you the time of day if your face was already in her tits." Mige guffawed crudely, and loudly, as Ville picked at the tab of his beer can and tried not to commit a homicide. He about lost his reserve when he looked up to see that she was looking at them. And she had clearly heard what was being said, because there was a disgusted pout on her face that Ville couldn't help but find deeply attractive.

He felt hopelessness sinking in due to his friends' horrible timing and the lack of interest this painfully gorgeous rockstar was giving him, and before long there was another cigarette stuck between his lips as he went in search of a beer cooler that was still cold. He had been aiming to talk to this girl at least enough to get a good dose of the addicting sound of her voice, but at this point he'd mostly given up in favor of scowling at the grass he was kicking as he walked.

Usually this wasn't hard for him, but he had always had a soft spot for musicians. And it didn't help that she had almost completely ignored him in every interaction the two of them had ever shared, which honestly only made him want her more. He'd never actually heard her speak, only sing, but today he was aiming to change that.

However, fate and its impeccable timing seemed to have other plans for him, because just as he was crouching down to grab one of the last German beers that was actually in a bottle instead of a can, his attention was drawn by a voice behind him.

"Are you the lead singer of the headliner band?" It was a woman's voice, and Ville internally slouched. Great. Security was obviously shit, because now on top of his asshole company, groupies were worming their way into the artists' grounds. His jaw clenched.

"I don't fuck groupies." Sure, he was being a little short to a person who probably didn't deserve it, but he was too sober to find it funny, and he was in a bad mood anyway. There was a disbelieving scoff in response to his curt answer, and he immediately paled and stood back up when he realized who he'd just spoken to.

It was her. Of course it was fucking her.

"I was gonna ask if you could get the staff to send out more beer." She revealed sourly, her eyes raking over his in a way that in no way matched the way his eyes had been raking over her when she hadn't been looking. She then spat in the grass, and despite the embarrassment burning down his neck, Ville somehow found it in him to feel himself getting even hotter at the sight. However, she was too busy continuing her hostile retort to notice the flame in his eyes. "Not every woman who talks to you wants to fuck you. Dick."

And boom. Now he felt even worse. She turned on the tattered heel of her sneaker and marched right off before his lips could even part to allow him to explain himself, and all he could do in that moment was let out a heavy, irritated sigh as he watched her go. Might as well get her fucking beer and drown in his sorrows bottle-style considering he had nothing else going on for another two hours.

As he walked back towards where he knew the staff would be gathered waiting for whatever prima-donna rockstar came banging on their tent with some ridiculous request, Ville hummed softly to himself, scowl on his face no doubt one to reckon with as he passed other rockstars of various bands getting trashed beyond belief in order to cope with the fact that they'd be playing with several big names as the night progressed. He was trying to ignore his own bandmates ogling at the girl he so obviously had a thing for for the sake of his own temper, but he found his eyes drawn to the scene regardless, and then his jaw was clenched even tighter before he lost sight of the infuriating scene as he continued his search for her requested beer.

—

You were not a pushover. Flourishing in a scene so deeply dominated by men who more-often-than-not would've rathered to grab your tits in a crowd surf than to ever play on the same stage as you was more than exhausting, but you'd earned your place. However, that didn't mean you'd ever stop coming in contact with the ones who had a problem with you.

And, apparently, Ville Valo really had a problem with you. It was evident in even the slightest of his movements and the way his eyes moved over you, and you were more than sick of it. You'd already heard the words 'face in her tits' thrown around whilst him and the rest of his band had been blatantly staring in your direction, and him assuming that you were a groupie begging to fuck him had solidified your distaste towards him.

But god, there was just something about him. You'd felt it only from the several times you'd found yourself making eye contact with him from however far apart the two of you were, and to be honest, before you'd picked up on his extremely hostile demeanor, you'd almost considered that he might've been checking you out. But now, as you watched him stomp his way across the grounds with his heavy Doc Martens scuffing the grass that he was glowering at, you just found him annoying. You should've known, considering you had never met a metal frontman that wasn't a raging bitch.

However, despite your sourness in the singer’s direction, you couldn’t help but feel the loss considering he was incredibly good looking. Perfect eyes, sharp features, and a voice deep enough to make any sensible person weak in the knees were not a mix of factors that were making this easy on you. You were only simply an overly-horny young adult, after all.

“I heard that he’s like, one of those prodigies where it makes your brain want to explode talking to him.” Your band mate, the guitarist, clearly noticed that you were watching Ville (who had since disappeared), and leaned in closer to you as she motioned in Ville’s previous general direction. “He was totally checking you out.”

“The only thing he said to me was that he doesn’t fuck groupies, so yeah. Brain definitely exploded.” You replied uninterestedly, choosing to brush past your bandmate’s bewildered look at your response in favor of just falling back in the grass where you were sitting. “I’m not trying it. I can’t take any more pretentious music prodigies.”

“But he’s so hot. Have you seen him preforming?” As she delved into a detailed description of Ville’s set that she’d trekked up the hill to watch, you focused your attention mostly on staring miserably towards the staff tent, where you’d watched Ville disappear a few minutes before. You weren’t totally sure as to what was causing you to focus on him for such a long period of time, but somehow your eyes just seemed to keep finding their way back.

And low and behold, when you spotted him again, he was coming out of the side of the staff tent with a six pack in each hand. Score.

“Oh my god, is he actually bringing you the beer?” The guitarist had overheard you ask Ville if he could use his main talent privileges to hook the rest of you up with some beer, and you saw her turn to watch Ville alongside you with her jaw dropped as he paused to slam one of the six packs into one of his bandmates’ lap. You rolled your eyes.

“I guess.” Okay. So maybe you were biting back a slight grin through your scowl, but she wasn’t looking at you anyway. Ville, however, was looking at you, and you felt your heart jump a little bit despite your best intentions when his startling green irises connected with yours. So he had brought you beer. Huh. You quickly looked to your bandmate. “Don’t say anything.”

“Hope English beer entices you.” Those words were uttered past Ville’s lips and through a thick cloud of smoke as he came up to where your band was sitting together, holding out the six pack with a mostly uninterested look on his face the entire time.

“Thank you.” As your hand almost brushed his, you noticed a scar on his wedding ring finger that looked shockingly similar to if someone were to use their finger as an ashtray, but you looked away as you picked out a bottle once the pack was in your lap and then held it up. “Do you have a bottle opener, by chance?”

“Fuck. There uh, there might be one in Mige’s bag over there.” Ville mentally slapped himself for having forgotten a way to open her bottle, knowing that she probably wouldn’t have appreciated his foolproof method of just smashing the neck of the bottle on the nearest solid surface. He mentally slapped himself once more when he saw her cast a wary look in the direction of his friends, quickly shooting to give her another option. “I’ll get it for you.”

However, just as he turned to walk away from where he could clearly see the rest of her band watching him with knowing, amused looks on their stupid faces, he heard shoes scuffing the grass, and he glanced back to see her right next to him. Shit.

“Are you guys going to talk about my tits while I’m right there, too?” She asked conversationally as she fell in step next to him, casting a critical look in his direction as she called him out clear as day. Ville resisted the urge to wince viscerally.

“Um, you heard that wrong. That’s not—we weren’t talking about you.” He saved himself lamely, not missing her skeptical look as she continued to side-eye him. He didn’t know why the hell he was stuttering like a fucking idiot, but it wasn’t going away no matter how many times he cleared his throat. He had a feeling that if her fingers even brushed his arm at this point, his head was going to explode.

“You don’t fuck groupies, and you were the only one not talking about my tits? You deserve a medal.” Her tone was more than sour, and Ville sighed miserably at the realization that he had probably fucked this whole thing up. Here was his dream girl, who had a metal attitude fiery enough to make him weak in the knees and the looks to go with it, and she obviously didn’t like him. His level of game was astounding.

“Yeah. Guess I do.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t totally helping his case, but his snarky attitude was a hard habit to break. And, to give himself some credit, Ville realized what a douchey thing that was to say as soon as it was out of his mouth. Y/n’s nose wrinkled, and she stopped right then and there in the middle of the grounds between Ville’s band and her own. He stopped with her, thankful for the fact that his long hair covered where his ears were burning with embarrassment. Never once in his life had he done so badly in the flirting department. “Uh, I mean—“

“You realize you’re kind of a dick, right? Why’d you get me the beer if you’re just going to be an asshole the whole time?” Y/n was transparent in her annoyance with the way Ville was currently acting, and he had to bite on the very inside of his cheek to avoid falling right at her feet as she snapped on him. “I can open the beer without an opener. Fuck off.”

“I—what?” Despite his knowing that Y/n wasn’t at all receptive to any idea he had tried to give that he was clearly into her, it took him aback when she verbally dismissed him away from her right to his face. He stood there looking like an idiot, and she only stared right back as she lifted up her foot, held the heel of her shoe in one hand, and then slammed the edge of her bottle cap on the hard rubber so that it popped right off and into the grass. And all Ville could think about was how beautiful she was the entire time.

“I never needed an opener. I already know how to open a fucking beer.” Her tone was still scalding as she repeated herself, and as she stood there with an open beer and a disgusted look on her face, it suddenly clicked in Ville’s brain. She had just wanted to talk to him.

Jesus Christ.

He skated a hand over his messy, sweaty hair, trying to collect himself enough to be a well-spoken human being before he finally just let out a large sigh and took a long swig of his beer.

“I’m sorry. I came off like shit.” He started, letting his hand fall back to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck as he glanced to the side to see his shitty friends watching him talk to Y/n like wolves watching their prey. He knew he’d get more than enough teasing for this whole thing later, and he was trying to hold his irritation at the fact off of his features for her sake. “I’m not usually like this. I swear. I’m just fucking…overheated.”

By overheated, he meant mostly his brain and a certain…other part of his body, but she didn’t need to know that. It didn’t look like she really believed him, anyway.

“Shit excuse.” She spoke simply, and her expression had softened a little bit, but there was still a hint of heat to her voice as she did so. He stuttered out a laugh, taking a drag off of his almost-cashed cigarette in an attempt to soothe his rapidly beating heart. Fuck, he felt like a goddamn teenager right now.

“Well it’s not about you, if you’re that worried.” Not only was that a shitty thing to say, but it was also a lie. In a rush to cover himself, he instead fucked it up again, and he immediately watched her recoil slightly at his words. Why was he so fucking bad at this today?

“What does that even mean?” God, at this point Ville wished she would’ve been one of those girls that just threw a drink in his face and slapped him instead of sitting there grilling him. Obviously, he usually fell in love with the ones that grilled him only that much quicker, but that wasn’t the point. And she didn’t give him time to make a point, anyway. “Listen, I don’t know if anyone has ever told you, but you’re not all fucking that. Not every girl that talks to you does it so that she can fuck your brains out.”

In a twisted, Ville-only part of his brain, he was falling in love with her for yelling at him like she was. In the middle of both her friends and his friends, as fate would have it. If heart eyes had been a real thing, Ville never would’ve been able to look at her in the first place without revealing how bad he had it for her.

“That’s not what I—I didn’t mean to—“ God. He could just not get the words to come out like he wanted them to. He snapped his mouth shut in frustration, because he didn’t know how to say ‘I’m being a fucking dick because I want you to kiss me’, then watched with panic as she started to walk away. “Wait! Please…just hold on for a second.”

“You really like the sound of your own voice.” She grumbled, sounding more than sick of him but thankfully pausing and crossing her arms anyway. Once he was sure he had her attention, Ville caved to the swarm of thoughts in his brain. Might as well throw out a last-ditch attempt considering how bad he’d screwed all this up for himself.

“I…” His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it felt as if he couldn’t speak around it, but he knew that he had no other choice. He swallowed. “Let me take you out to dinner. Please. I’m being like this because beautiful women make me a fucking idiot.”

Once the words had all fallen out of his mouth in a shaky, unintelligent swarm, he stood there waiting. He felt as if he may throw up, and the last half-drag off of his cigarette before he dropped it into the grass under his boot only made his heart seem to beat faster against his rib cage.

And then she began to smile.

“You look a little sick.” As if she was in his head and knew that it was only going to make his condition worse, she reached out and held his wrist in her perfect hand before she pressed her fingers gently into his wrist.

She was checking his pulse. Busted.

“I feel a little sick.” He admitted loosely, a sheepish smile passing on his features as he tried to continue to see straight with her touching his hand. She laughed at that, not yet letting his hand go.

“This is cute. You really had me going.” She said lightly, her eyes moving from his pulse to his with a look that told him she was amused by his racing heartbeat. His face went crimson at her calling him cute, because who the hell saw his dark, chronically-unamused expression and call it cute, before he found himself grinning beyond his control.

“Well? Did it work?” He asked, his stomach about dropping right out of his body when she suddenly laced their fingers together and held his hand in hers. Although he was praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would say yes, he was simultaneously wondering how the hell he was going to get through an uninterrupted dinner alone with her when he felt like his life was ending at the mercy of just the slightest of her touches. She bit her lip.

“Hmm…yeah. It worked.” You were beaming, both at the fact that you’d just earned yourself a date with one of the hottest men you’d ever seen and at the fact that the hottest man you’d ever seen was shaky and nervous like a little kid in your mere presence. You felt more than bad about snapping on him now that you knew he just had a case of being a man and trying to express his feelings aloud. “You gonna take me somewhere fancy?”

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, love.” He seemed to ease slightly once he had your agreement to go out to dinner with him, and his voice found confidence as he shamelessly studied your features right in front of you. “I’d even cook something on the tour bus hot plate if it meant I’d get to see you.”

That made you laugh, and you thanked the fact for the time it allowed you to let your jumping heart settle. Something should’ve been said for the fact that Ville was offering dinner instead of a beer and a shitty fuck like every other rockstar you’d ever met doing the job you did, and you were trying your very hardest not to surround his name in hearts in your mind as he looked at you.

“Date’s on, Valo.” As you agreed, he made a whole dramatic show of sticking his hand out and forcing you to shake it, but you were laughing the whole time. You were mentally picturing yourself jumping his tall frame right then and there, but you instead let your hand linger in his for a suspicious amount of time before you pulled out of the handshake. “Until then, I’m going to keep checking you out across the yard, deal?”

“Deal.” Ville was relaxed and smiling now as the both of you talked, so as you made your exit, you felt no qualms about leaning up and pressing a kiss right to his warm cheek.

“See you tonight.” Your lips brushed against his cheek as you spoke quietly in his ear, as you bit back a grin as you heard him gasp just slightly. When you broke away from him, his eyes were already dragging over your figure as you turned away.

“See you tonight.” And suddenly Ville really needed some alone time in a room with a door that locked.

#ville valo #ville valo fic #ville valo x reader #ville hermanni valo #HIM #his infernal majesty #mige amour #emerson burton #gas lipstick #linde lindstrom #jackass #jackass mtv #jackass imagine #jackass movie

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stratossphere · 1 year

Text

cigarettes | v.v

you and ville are freshly broken up, but you still have to work together, and you’re hurting.

warnings: gender neutral!reader, angst, broken-up pining, suggestive content, getting interrupted, smoking

word count: 4k

a/n: some breakup angst for you while i work on my drafts!!!

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @h3artk1ller @4377666 @althaiascure

— —

Work was really starting to wear you down to the bone. Sure, you'd been the one to agree to this stupid goddamn project in the first place, but that had been before you and Ville had separated, and now the very fresh strain of you not being together paired with the fact that Bam Margera was more than a headache to work with wasn't something you'd fully prepared yourself to deal with.

You and Ville had broken up not even a week ago. The fighting had become too harsh and the constant time away from each other had grown too much, and after an explosive fight and a lot of angry packing, you were both trying to continue to do your jobs while fresh out of the joint worst breakup of your lives.

So yeah. You loved your job, and you totally weren’t miserable directing HIM’s ‘Buried Alive by Love’ music video at all.

Not to mention the millions of hiccups you'd experienced so far in the short amount of time that you'd been filming. It was making you really glad that the project funding was coming from HIM's producers and Bam's own pockets instead of yours.

"Let's just take a fucking break. 30 minutes. I can't fucking deal with this." Bam had said after you'd experienced the last fuck-up in your plan, throwing down his binder and ripping his headset off of his head from where he had been standing next to you behind the camera. You threw a hand in the air, because you knew that you were never going to get the fucking video done if he kept quitting every time he got annoyed, but held your tongue because as long as it was on his dollar, it was kind of his right.

"Go pick up lunch, then." You called after him. If he was going to put everything to a halt just because he had a touchy temper, then he was going to have to pay for it. He turned around slowly on his heel, a venomous look on his face.

"Fine. Good thing I have your wallet, huh?" And then he stomped off down the hall to the left. With your wallet, which you had entrusted him with because you happened to not have any pockets at the moment, and which happened to have both your debit and credit card inside. Great. He was getting paid the Benjamin to your Washington, and yet he couldn't be bothered to have any courtesy.

You could feel yourself starting to get agitated, and you could tell that everyone else was close to being the same, so you removed your headset from around your neck and set it down much nicer than Bam had on the table behind you. Ville, Burton, Mige, Linde, and Gas were all still in position on the stage with their instruments in the positions that you had intricately formed so that the camera was hitting them correctly, and you heard a chorus of groans.

"How many times are we going to do a goddamn pause?" Mige complained, pulling his bass strap from over his shoulder and gently setting it up against the amp that was close to his foot. The rest of the band also began to abandon their instruments, and you let out a deep, apologetic sigh.

"You know I can't do anything about it. He's in charge." You muttered, shaking your head as you stopped in front of the stage. Ville was standing close to you, and you could see him rifling around in his pockets for the third cigarette pack that he'd already burned through half of in the six hours that you'd been working so far. You knew that your pack wasn't far behind, and you also made the decision that you were going to be spending your 30 minute break burning through the second half. "You guys are doing great, though. Patience is a virtue."

"Not one of mine." Burton muttered, which made both Gas and Linde snicker while Mige just shook his head along with him. Ville then rolled his eyes, motioning to you before looking back at everyone else.

"Be good. They’re buying your lunch." He scolded, tutting as he put a cigarette between his lips and patting down his pockets before groaning and turning to you. "Do you have a light, by chance?"

"Did you not hear the whole speech about no smoking in here? If they see it on the cameras they'll charge us another grand in cleaning fees." You said tiredly before you pulled the cigarette right out from between his lips, shaking your head and giving him a look that said 'do you listen to anything that people say to you?' At his offended look, you held the cigarette away. "I'll give you a light. Outside."

"Okay, but seriously. Only 30 minutes, guys." The product manager gave you a warning look, because you knew that she knew how suspicious it looked that you and Ville were going out on your own. Everyone obviously knew that you were broken up by now, but you knew that it was probably pretty obvious that neither of you were really completely settled in that change. So you had that going for you.

"Just send Bam out to get me when he gets back with food." You reassured. If she had to worry about anyone wasting your time, she should've been more focused on the man that was literally leaving the building. Bam had a tendency to never actually come back to do things when he was supposed to, and at this point you had given up on trying to keep a solid time schedule. "If he comes back."

"He fucking better." She muttered, half sounding as if she was warning you against it. As if you could control anything that Bam did. The best you could do was threaten to hurt him if he didn't do something you wanted, which was unfortunate when you were dealing with the masochist that Bam was. He wasn't exactly one to cooperate with anything. Ever.

You led Ville out of that godforsaken building as quickly as you could manage, because with your crew breathing down your neck and Bam acting like a toddler with behavioral issues, you were really starting to get annoyed. As the both of you walked, you were trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were alone with each other by silently trying to decide whether or not you wanted to smoke a cigarette anywhere near Ville, or just keep your distance. You settled on multitasking just as you stepped outside into the cold air.

"You know, I passed up an opportunity to go to a big shoot for this project." You complained as you handed over both his confiscated cigarette and your naked-lady lighter. Ville raised his eyebrows slightly when he got a look at the lighter, then shrugged.

"You would've still been dealing with drunk idiots. Just on a different set." It was a pretty accurate reminder, and you shrugged. There was a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite read when you did so, and you felt your stomach do a barrel roll as you looked away for a second. Stop it. Stop fucking looking at him like that. It was literally taking every ounce of strength you had in you not to fall right back into that habit. Hell, a week ago you'd still been holding him in your arms while you fell asleep at night.

"Bam wouldn't have been there." You muttered, shaking your head to yourself as you walked to where your car was parked on the curb. You had been smoking before you'd come into the building when you'd gotten there that morning, and your pack was still in the glove box.

Unfortunately for you, you had enough cigarettes to last the average person a week at least, but somehow you'd forgotten to actually bring a jacket of any kind. In the dead of winter. You didn’t exactly live in a frozen tundra, but it was still winter. And you ran cold in general.

You weighed your options. If Ville hadn't been there, you would've just sat in your car for the 30 minutes that you had to yourself, but he was there. And you didn't know if you had enough self control to be in such tight quarters with him for more than a couple of minutes. You could tell by the way his eyes were following your every move where he thought you didn't notice that there was a good chance he was going to have the same problem on the premise that you did invite him into the car.

But he still had your lighter, you were in a t-shirt, and he was in a tank-top. He usually didn't get cold, and had a habit of wearing light sweatshirts in the middle of winter, but it couldn't have been warmer than 35 degrees outside. So you took a deep breath and steadied your mind.

"You wanna sit in the car? It's freezing." You offered, trying your best to keep how nervous you were out of your tone of voice. Your consolation was that he often took up on almost whatever you offered, which meant that you probably weren’t going to have to smoke alone for once.

"Everyone told you that you would be cold." Despite his sour reminder, Ville was already walking towards the car, which was an unfortunate angle, because you were bent over in the passenger seat digging through your glove box. You scoffed.

"Yeah, but you'll excuse me if I've been feeling a little off lately." You defended yourself, finally finding your pack of cigarettes in the midst of all the junk crammed into your glove box before you stood back up and out of the passenger seat. "I'll borrow somebody else's. Eventually."

Ville made a slight face at your bringing up feeling off, because you both knew exactly why you felt a little off, before he cleared his throat.

“Sorry. I guess.” He muttered out an apology as he watched you circle around to the driver’s side of the car, standing long enough to shoot you a look before he slid into the passenger seat at the same time you pulled the driver’s side door open. You could clearly see the way he was watching you like a hawk to gauge each and every one of your reactions, but you held a front to avoid his scrutinizing stare.

“You know, I don’t think I’d be able to do my job if I didn’t get breaks of peace in between.” You said thoughtfully as you stuck your own cigarette between your lips and lit it, staring woefully through the glass of the windshield as you pictured being back behind the director’s chair with Bam in half an hour or so. Sometimes you didn’t know if you would consider it friendship or torture.

"I didn't think you were going to agree to do this." Ville spoke tightly, as if he knew exactly what tension that was going to add to the car, his words coming through billows of smoke as he exhaled.

"Bam is paying me good money." You pointed out as you blew smoke to the side so that it wasn't directly in his face, grinning sheepishly when he rolled his eyes at your reasoning. In all honesty, you had actually come very close to dipping out on this job. But you weren’t about to tell Ville that the only reason you were hanging out with him was because you were offered a pay raise and three six packs. "And how can I say no when we're like, five minutes from my place?"

"I don't know. I just...we aren't talking anymore, so I don't know." Ville finally looked back up to your eyes then, and although you weren’t looking directly at him, you could see the discomfort on his face. His tone was unkempt and he obviously didn't quite know what to say, which in a way made you feel guilty.

"We're still talking. Promise. I just need some time to let this settle. This is really hard for me." You admitted, finding his eyes with a look that begged him to bear with you. You knew everyone wanted you to be normal and just pretend like things that were happening weren't actually happening, but you just didn't have the strength.

He didn't respond, just stared at you with those soul-searing black-lined green eyes as he took a long drag off of his cig. You were basically squirming in your seat at the crushing discomfort that was clouding the car faster than the stale burn of cigarette smoke as you blew smoke into the air, and you couldn't help the way your fingers tapped against your knee over and over again. Finally, when he'd exhaled his hit and quelled a bit of clearing his throat, Ville killed the silence again.

"It feels weird to stay in a hotel when you live five minutes away." Great. It's not like he was making this any easier on you. Here was the man you were still hopelessly, painfully in love with in your car, alone with you, talking about how he missed staying at your apartment. Knowing you couldn't have him. Fucking prick.

"Bam’s staying there, so it’s not like there’s any room for you." Irritation was easier than distress, so that's exactly what you settled on, a scowl plastered on your face as you went back to staring out the windshield so that you didn’t have to look at him. You had just asked him to let you let this settle, and he was doing about the opposite.

"Don’t get pissy. That was my second home for years, Y/n." His tone was harsh, as he clearly had no problems with speaking his mind on things that you had been trying as hard as humanly possible to keep buried deep inside over these past few days, and you almost choked on the smoke you were inhaling as he leaned towards you just slightly. "Please don't shove me away."

"Ville." You couldn't tell if you were begging him to stop talking or to talk even more. The car suddenly seemed ten times smaller than it had a minute ago, and despite the fact that you had gotten inside in the first place because you were cold, you could feel yourself starting to sweat. You knew you probably looked like a deer in headlights, but your brain couldn't seem to keep up with his talking. "I'm not shoving you away. We—we said distance. We're doing distance."

"You can barely even look at me. I wish you would just look at me." He said, his eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head as he rolled down his window just enough to ash his cigarette. You didn’t give him a response, only slowly turned to face him where he had leaned even further forward, closing most of the distance between you so that there was no possible way for you to escape his intense stare. Your chest felt like it was going to cave in.

"Ville, I'm trying to control myself. Seriously. You're making it worse." You breathed out nervously, trying desperately to keep your eyes from falling down to his lips. It was such a practiced habit that it felt unnatural not to. His gaze was unwavering, and suddenly you could feel his hand on your knee.

Fuck.

"I can't be without you right now. I'm not ready." He said quietly, taking a puff of his cigarette and letting the smoke slowly float up from his nose. You tapped your fingernails anxiously against the steering wheel as your eyes shifted between his and his hand, your nails clicking softly and filling the heavy silence as you tried to wrap your brain around the situation you were currently in. You knew he was referring to a more emotional standpoint than a physical one, and you felt your chest tighten at how much you felt the same. You didn't know if hearing it out loud made it better or worse.

"If we don't start, we're never going to." You were really trying to hold on to what you'd been forced to build in your mind in order to do this specific job, but you were falling apart. Internally, and maybe externally, too. "We can't."

"Then why are you doing this job?" He questioned, clearly not falling for your bullshit. His hand hadn't moved from your knee, and it felt like it was burning right down through my skin. You opened your mouth, then closed it momentarily as you tried to figure out how to answer that question without sounding like a bad person.

"I almost quit." You hadn't really wanted him to know that, but you said it anyway, because you didn't know what else to do. You knew you were going to regret it if you went further than just sitting in the weird tension between the both of you, and you were trying to control the insatiable urge to close the minuscule gap between you.

"I'm glad you didn’t." Alright. That was it. Self-restraint was going out the window and your head was tipping forward to touch your lips to his before your brain could even compute. He looked a little surprised that he'd managed to convince you at first, but then he was quickly catching up, his hand immediately pushing further up your leg as he leaned further forward.

You haphazardly reached out to flick your cigarette out your window once you had cracked it, your free hand moving up to cup his cheek as he deepened the kiss with his hand on your upper thigh. You knew where this was going, and you were already checking to see if there was anyone around you before you spoke.

"Let's get in the back. We have like, 20 minutes." You said breathlessly as you broke apart for air, putting your hand over his on your thigh and giving him a look that told him exactly what you wanted. He nodded in agreement, letting you go so that you could fumble into getting into the cramped backseat of your car. He came back after you, landing on top of you without much grace and then pulling laughter out of both of you before you were kissing again.

This was exactly why you were supposed to be giving each other space. Shit like this.

Your legs came up around his hips as his lips began to trail down your neck, one hand pushing under your shirt as he pressed a knee between your legs. You hadn't realized how much you'd needed him until now, and you were feeling a slight sense of panic rising in the back of your brain at how much you were enjoying something you definitely shouldn't have been doing.

And then, as if some greater power was intervening on your lack of good decision making, someone was frantically knocking on the window. You felt dread run through you, because you were in a very compromising position, only to have Ville sigh and slowly get off you, giving you a pretty good idea of who was on the other side of the window.

And, low and behold, when you sat up and turned your head, you were met with the sight of Bam Margera himself standing there looking furious. He jabbed a finger at you and then down at the ground, clearly telling you to get your ass out of the car. Great. You had just made out with Ville after trying so fucking hard no to, and now Bam had been there to see it, too. Things just kept getting better and better.

You took a deep breath before shrugging at Ville and getting out of the car, a sheepish grin slowly forming on your face as you saw him glancing between Ville, who had just gotten out of the car behind you, and you.

"I'm gonna head back inside." Ville mumbled, his hand brushing across your lower back as he passed you and headed back towards the side door that would take him back inside. That left you alone with Bam.

"Are you fucking serious. You told me to keep you in check, and you just waited until I walk away for the first time to tongue him down!" He snapped as soon as Ville was out of hearing range, throwing a hand in the air in exasperation. You cringed, leaning up against the car and wiping off your mouth for good measure.

"I can't fucking help it! I don't know! He...convinced me." You couldn't really give him a better answer than that. It's not like you were actively trying to stay away from Ville, anyway. Plus, Bam had been the one who had begged you to work on this project with him in the first place knowing fully well that you were in no way over Ville.

"You were seriously gonna fuck in the back of your car in broad daylight?" Bam scoffed at the idea, the tip of the cigarette he had between his lips going bright red as he inhaled off of it. "I mean, that's committed for a guy you said you 'can totally be cool with' or whatever."

"Well, obviously I was lying." You retorted dryly, running your hands over your face and trying to clear your head. If it hadn't been at least a little awkward before, it was definitely going to be now. You had literally been minutes from fucking. That wasn't exactly great for your 'we're over each other' motto that you and Ville were both trying to play between each other. "You gotta keep me away from him. Seriously. I'm like, gonna make myself all moody and depressed if I start this shit."

"Would it help if I told you that he made a vow not to talk to you unless he had to?" That was in no way helpful, and had also clearly been a broken vow, considering Ville had actually talked to you almost more than he normally did even despite the circumstances.

"Bam. Not helping." You cut him off before he could make it somehow worse by trying to make it better, raking your fingers through your hair and silently hating yourself for ever agreeing to work with your friends. You could've been filming for real media right now if you hadn't called off specifically for this bullshit. "Just—can we please just get this done today so that I don't have to be around him anymore? This whole thing is easier to deal with when he's not 10 feet up my ass all the time."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. At least try to keep your tongue in your mouth for the rest of the day.” You could always count on Bam and his five star, incredibly helpful advice. You were always thankful that your best friend was always so worried about your well-being and the severity of your emotions.

However, his advice was advice that you weren’t going to take, and throughout the rest of your filming day, you never let your eyes off of Ville. Not that you really had to, considering you were in the middle of directing him, but you could see it in his eyes, too. He felt the same deep, gnawing need and regret that you had been trying to push down for days now.

God, he was so perfect. He was handsome, he’d been laughing with the band all day despite the stress of trying to film on a schedule, and it was just making you miss him so badly. Everything about him seemed to be infecting your mind today, and you felt as if you couldn’t take it.

You weren’t over him. You assumed it was pretty obvious to everyone else, but you weren’t quite done combating the thought in your head. And they also didn’t have to deal with what felt like your heart being ripped in half every time you forced yourself to ignore his stares from across the room.

You couldn’t have him. God, you wanted him, but you couldn’t have him, and as hard as it was, you managed to pretend for your own sake. You pretended that you didn’t need him. You pretended that you didn’t feel it when his hand would linger on you every time he passed you. You pretended, because you knew that was the only way that you were going to survive.

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