#I Hate Monday Band | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diorcities · 1 year

Text

strawberries & cigarettes

pairing: haechan (donghyuck) x reader. genre: angst, smut towards the end, fluff? content: enemies to lovers, slow burn, college au, boyband, boyband!haechan, love triangule, kinda?, karina as jeno's s/o, ningning. they're on a play. haechan's a dick, reader's a dick. a lot of cussing. female masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), virginity, unprotected sex, breeding kink. mention of alcohol, marihuana, sharing bed. wc: 15,9k readproof taglist: @sundamariis — @smwhrinthehaze <3

summary: the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.

"stop!" your voice reverberates on the four walls of the school of arts' auditorium, leaving everyone present perplexed and immobile; they believe that any movement might trigger armageddon. not that you aren't already upset. "tell me it's a joke. jisung, tell me it's a joke," you ask your assistant, who is more useful for carrying your things than assisting with important matters.

"it's a..."

"shut up, i don't want to hear it." your gaze sweeps the room, and as it passes, their eyes avoid yours, refusing to make contact. a sigh escapes your lips as you glance at your wristwatch. it's 22:48. "i don't have time to repeat for the thousandth time what you have to correct, you..." you pause, waiting for the girl in the middle of the stage to remind you of her name.

"yeji," she says. "sure," is her only response. "jisung, who's next?" you ask, watching the boy nervously scan the character list. "benvolio," he replies, trembling more than usual. you give him a bored look before instructing him to bring in the next person. "uh... i'm afraid renjun isn't here," he explains.

"renjun is...?" you repeat, having no idea who he is. "benvolio. he's the guy who plays benvolio," he blurts out, speaking so quickly it takes you a moment to process his words. jisung looks up from the ground and is likely convinced you've lost your mind. you're getting there. "alright," you manage to reply, your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw. "and the next one?" you ask, "the character, jisung," you insist, preventing him from mentioning another name you can't remember. "well... romeo and juliet are missing," the boy informs you tensely, your unnerving calm unsettling him.

"did you call them?" the boy nods, "they aren't answering." jisung awaits your response, which comes without delay. "can anybody tell me where everyone is!?" you explode, provoking a range of reactions. jisung covers his head with the list as if the ceiling were about to cave in, the spotlight assistant accidentally shifts the spotlight, and the girl in the middle of the stage lets out a shriek.

"it's almost midnight, it's friday," he tries to explain. "the play is on monday," you remind him, pointing a finger. the girl's voice captures your attention. "what did you say?"

"i said they're at the dream society party." those words hold no meaning for you. the idea that you should be aware of such events only fuels your growing anger. "can you explain what the dream society is?" you ask, using all your willpower to avoid shouting. "it's the band, the rock band," jisung explains. you look at him disapprovingly. "the entire school is there; it's the party for their new album," the girl continues. "renjun, benvolio, romeo, and juliet are probably there."

you contemplate for a few seconds, chewing gum furiously, almost able to hear jisung's heart pounding as he waits for your reaction. "okay, we're going to that party." the boy's eyes widen. "do you know where it is?" you ask. "y-yes, yes. it's in..." he stops suddenly, his eyes wide in recollection.

"what now, jisung?" you ask, heading for the exit. "lights off! you can go home," you inform, hearing the relief behind you. "well, uh...," you hear him say. "no stuttering; you know i hate it," you interject. the boy clears his throat before continuing.

"well, the dream society... the band... the party. you're going to kill me if i don't tell you."

"i want to kill you already," you mutter, encouraging him to continue. "it's made up of students, from the art school," he says. "okay, you're not telling me anything," you mumble, walking down the halls toward the parking lot. "you know some of them," he insists. "i doubt it."

"jeno," he mentions. you try to remain composed as you search for your car keys. "chenle, mark, and... donghyuck," he blurts out just as you find the keys. his sigh of relief quickly turns to annoyance. jisung must be joking. "there's more..." he continues, nervously. you spin on your heels and stare at him. jisung knows how cautious you are about any mention of donghyuck; you'd react with rage if you heard his name. one of the rules he must adhere to is not to make contact with donghyuck. if he did, you had several options: ignore him, curse him, or your favorite, punch him in his pretty face. but you're not in the mood to scold him for mentioning donghyuck's name, even though it's forbidden, so you push him to continue. "go on."

"the party is at his house."

act one.

"look up romeo and juliet. i'll go for benvolio," you order jisung as soon as you park. by now, you have become fed up with the party unfolding outside of your comfort zone (your car): sweaty bodies, music blaring in your ears, people, and forced conversations. it has become a hotbed for your patience. you take a couple of breaths before leaving.

you follow jisung to the entrance of the house as a somehow shield to the world; no one expects you to be there, and so making an appearance at your enemy's house could lead to a whole misunderstood, something you don't want to feed on. you need to get out of there soon. once inside, both have gone in different directions to cover more ground and, therefore, get out of that place as quickly as possible and go back to the well-being of the auditorium. your eyes look in all directions in search of the lost characters in your work, and also in case you see someone in the crowd. As you move towards the house's entrance, the music becomes louder, and more people start crowding. the smell of weed reaches your nose, causing you to wince. your hand quickly covers it when you collide with jisung's back. "hey!" you yell at him, about to tell him to focus on the target when your eyes flick from his body to the person blocking the way.

lee donghyuck.

"look who we have here, the lap assistant, and the movie star," he whistles. you notice jisung clench his fists ready to step out for you (which you don't thank him enough) before you move him out of the way and face him. the approach has to be friendly; it's his house. if you want him to let you in, both will have to leave the feud for another day. "look… you," you name, causing the boy to shrug. "you didn't call me an idiot; that's progress," he says. you take a breath of air before continuing. "we only want to look for the boys from the drama club, nothing more. let us in, and we won't bother you," you explain, with wounded pride that you have to give in. but sometimes, you have to give in to win.

"those from the drama club," he repeats. "yes, benvolio, romeo, and juliet," you reply. donghyuck frowns, "who?"

you grit your teeth and look at jisung for support. "karina, renjun, and jeno," the boy explains. donghyuck raises his eyebrows in realization, bringing a hand to his chin. you look at him reluctantly, feigning a grimace that doesn't reveal your annoyance. "it's not possible," he says finally. you're stunned for a few seconds, watching him look at you with amusement. "pardon? how is it not possible?"

"we'll play in a few minutes; jeno is our bass player. you can't just take him with you and leave like that," he explains. "dnd Renjun?" jisung asks. "ah..., i don't care about renjun," he says, shrugging.

"okay, okay. you keep jeno," you resolve, looking at jisung, seeking support in your decision. "we'll look for renjun, then," you add, nodding. "well, nice to see you, but we're going." you say your goodbyes, exhausted from being nice, taking jisung's hand and pushing him towards the house, being stopped by the fact that donghyuck doesn't move an inch to let you pass. "yeah… there's a little problem for you guys," he blurts out, looking suddenly embarrassed. "you're not invited to the party."

"you must be kidding," you finally mumble, making donghyuck smile triumphantly. "can't you stop being an idiot for a moment?" you feel jisung's hand on your arm, warningly. the friendly approach: forget it. your tetra: forget it. The possibility that he would let you into the party: forget it. "okay, there are things more important than your stupid band and your fucking existence." donghyuck looks at you with fascination. "there it is, the real yn."

"fuck off." it's too late. you're furious beyond fuming, rabid. you could explode right now and bring everything down. donghyuck's laugh makes you angrier. without being able to avoid it, your hands go to his chest, pushing him. however, the boy doesn't stop laughing. "you're a childish, dipshit jerk," you say, with each push. "fuck off!"."

"you've already said it."

"i hope you enjoy your damn party, you jerk," you spat, noticing jisung's grip on your arm, turning away from the boy with an amused look. "have I told you how cute your eyes look when you're angry?" his comment only makes you angrier. you release jisung's grip only to flash your middle finger in response, letting him finally lead you to your car. "idiot," you mutter, covering your face in an attempt to calm down. "maybe we should go ho…" you hear the boy next to you say. "break in," you interrupt, defiant. jisung nods slowly, exhaling. "break in, understood."

your eyes light up as an idea occurs to you. the trick is that nobody recognizes you and wants to alert donghyuck. "take off your jacket," you order. "and i need you to take my car," you add, causing jisung to stop his movements to do as you requested. sometimes you're grateful that the boy is willing to do whatever you order. among all the chaos, you like him. but you would never tell him. you snap your fingers for him to react. "he must think we left for my plan to work," you explain. "you will take my car for about two blocks. when i find benvolio, we'll meet there," you continue. "understood?"

jisung nods quickly before offering you the jacket. you rush to put it on and hand him your car keys. jisung gives a lucky thumbs-up before you approach the party again. you let your hair down to make the perfect curtain to cover your face, and with jisung's jacket, it's impossible for people to remember you. after all, no one knows you. spending time in the auditorium between classes and breaks in high school made you almost invisible. besides, your foul humor made it impossible to make friends. you knew the drama club. that was your social circle.

you're able to crash the party without regard. you almost jump with excitement if it weren't for the fact that you have to continue with the act until you find benvolio and drag him out of that place. his irresponsibility makes your jaw ache from grinding your teeth so much. the sweet desire to shout at them encourages you to search carefully. "yn?" someone takes you by the shoulder and gently turns you around. juliet's face looks at you, confused.

as if looking at you brings back her memory, she gently taps her forehead. "crap, i forgot. the drama club."

"yes, the drama club," you repeat with difficulty. "i know the lines, seriously." you doubt it. "it's just… jeno." that name. "is performing today, and i wanted to come to support him." jeno. jeno. jeno. juliet and jeno, best friends and neighbors. with those odds, you just couldn't compete. "are you okay?" she asks, concerned. maybe your face has turned red. "great," you blurt out. "now, if you'll excuse me," you say goodbye, stopping suddenly as you remember something. "you haven't seen me, is that clear?" you watch her nod before continuing to search.

okay, juliet: no. romeo: neither. benvolio, then.

you slip through the crowd, going unnoticed, hardly. people look at you strangely every time you take them by the shoulder and turn them around, hoping to find Benvolio in one of them. it seems like you're playing a game of turning over the cards until you find your match. back here, it's not benvolio. back there, it's not romeo. you find him later talking to donghyuck in a corner, and like a repellent, you go to the opposite side. you wait the time it takes for that conversation to end, and you follow him to the drinks bar.

"yn, what are you doing here?" jeno looks at you quite confused when you approach him. being at a teen party was one of the last places he'd expect to find you. honestly, he's right. "oh, i don't know," you mumble, exaggerating every word. "perhaps looking for answers as to why my characters are at a party and not in the auditorium." you watch jeno nod slowly, though he doesn't look at all guilty of that recrimination. "i apologize," he says, "but since you're here, you can stay. i'll make sure to dedicate one of our songs to you as a form of apology." you would have given in at that moment and place, except for one: you don't like rock, and two: someone catches jeno's attention.

"hey jeno!" you freeze as you hear someone calling romeo through the music. jeno waves somewhere behind you, purely by coincidence or fate, where you have seen donghyuck chatting with a girl. "this isn't over, romeo," you threaten, ready to leave before finding out if the person approaching you is donghyuck.

as you turn and flee, your face collides with a smooth yet hard surface. you caress your nose (two time in one night? it must be a record), looking up at the rest of the chest that you hit your septum on, meeting a pair of eyes that seem to shine. "oh shit, are you okay?" he asks, looking concerned. "great," you hiss. the boy moves with a spasm. "i'm really sorry." sure, he is. he looks at you for longer than usual, as if he remembered something. "wait, romeo?" he asks.

"mmm…" jeno nods. "we're in the drama club," he explains. the starry-eyed boy hisses. "i guess you're juliet," he says in your direction. "you guessed wrong," you mutter. even though that answer would have been enough to deter people from talking to you, the boy finds it funny. his laughter is heard above the music, and consequently, jeno starts laughing too. thus, you do too. "she's our director," jeno mentions. the boy nods several times, weighing the words of the black-haired man. "impressive," he says at the end, raising his hand above his head to simulate an imaginary ladder, "very impressive. my congratulations."

"thank you," you reply, suddenly feeling weird. no one has reacted like that. as if they take it for granted that it's impressive in and of itself. the star boy shrugs as if it's nothing. as if it's easy for him to spontaneously compliment people. "wait, if you're the director, that would make you…"

"shakespeare," you both say in unison. genuinely smiling is not common for you. you can see it; jeno has to look at you twice to make sure you're actually smiling. on the other hand, the star boy must think you smile often, go to parties every day, and that jeno is your friend. "have you seen renjun?" you ask jeno, remembering why you came. you watch him think before his gaze gets lost in the ocean of people. his eyes widen slightly as he finds something in the crowd. he points his finger behind the starry-eyed boy, and your gaze follows the path until it falls on renjun, talking to donghyuck, a few meters from you.

as if your gaze can sense it, donghyuck returns your gaze, at first distracted, without recognizing you, until you can feel his brain alerting him to look a second time. however, you react automatically, grabbing the boy by the shoulder, and he instinctively leans forward, within reach. your face moves closer to his, lips going to his lips.

first, there is no reaction. just your lips touching. your body is completely tense from being so close to finding benvolio, when a sudden movement causes your thoughts to shut up. the boy's lips begin to move on top of yours.

he's kissing you.

uour hands are still on his shoulders, and his hand goes to one of them, taking it between them and guiding it to his neck, before slipping out of your hand, onto your shoulder, resting on your back, drawing you closer to him.

his eyelashes tickle your cheeks, and his lips, soft, kiss yours. slowly. your head tilts to the sides when they change position. the spell of a kiss is broken without warning when his lips move away from yours. your eyes widen quickly as donghyuck takes him by the shoulder and pulls him away from you. finally, his death glare falls on you.

donghyuck gives jeno a look before taking your arm and dragging you toward the exit. you try to wriggle out of his grip, but the boy is pretty strong, and his grip is pretty hard. "i can find my way out on my own, cretin," you hiss at him, trying to get rid of him to no avail. "you are a jerk. i want you to know that." you keep ranting as he leads you to the exit. "you bumbling buffoon, always have to mess things up. how i hate you," you blurt out, seeing that you're past the exit.

your hand instinctively goes to his arm, feeling it tense under your touch.

"the exit is that…"

"shut the fuck up," he hisses, leading them into a desolate hallway. he drops you between the wall and him. he looks quite angry, his hands are clenching and unclenching into fists, and his breathing is rough. his eyes finally look at you, burning with rage. "what the hell are you doing?" he releases. "shit, are you like this because i snuck into your part…?" you say before he interrupts you. "what were you doing kissing mark?" he asks. you're afraid he will release fire at any moment.

you find yourself not knowing what to say, watching his hardened features and shadowed eyes looming over you. without noticing it until that moment, you fall into the account of their bodies, almost brushing against each other. your arguing breaths intertwining in the air in between. your gazes trying to pierce each other. so close you can smell his cologne, mingling with his marlboro breath. your gaze travels to his lips, as if you could visualize the cigarette between them, exhaling smoke through his plump, heart-shaped lips. reacting quickly and cursing for what it looks like you're doing, returning to meet his gaze, only to find that he is doing the same, looking intensely at your lips. only you never smoked.

you make an effort to go back to the here and now, remembering that because of him, your characters are there and not in the auditorium. that he surely did it on purpose, just like in the past. donghyuck watches you cross your arms. "what do you care?" you ask, causing him to react by rolling his eyes in annoyance and taking a couple of steps back, putting distance between the two of you. "the world doesn't spin around you, pretty girl. i don't give a shit who you kiss." his voice sounds rather bored. "just don't kiss mark," he adds.

your laughter fills the air, a stark contrast to the boy's attitude. "you don't tell me what to do, idiot," you finally say, looking suddenly serious. "certainly, who or whom i can't kiss," you say, sentencing. a muscle jumps in the boy's jaw. "do what you want," he mutters, his face coming dangerously close to yours, a contest of who murdered the other with a stare begins. "but do it out of my damn party," he whispers, his breath tickling your cheeks.

"good!" you answer, dodging him on your way to the exit, "and just for your information, maybe you should shower, you stink like cigarettes! bet your groupies wont like it."

"bet they do."

fuck romeo. fuck juliet. and fuck lee donghyuck.

you walk across the front lawn toward the street. a voice calls you over the music. mark appears out of the night, smiling in your direction. "hey, shakespeare, where are you going? are you okay?" he asks quickly.

“yn,” you utter in a low voice, resuming your march in search of jisung. "i know," he replies, earning you a look. the question about how he knows your name pops into your mind, and you answer it almost immediately. jeno.

“um… are you leaving so early?” he asks.

“yes, i… i have things to do.” of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that donghyuck doesn't want you at his stupid party like you want to be there anyway. “good luck with your presentation,” you tell him. “ah, and…, i'm sorry I kissed you,” you add, ending that fateful encounter between the two of you. that night has turned out differently than you imagined. you want it to end.

you feel mark's hand take yours, stopping you. "i don't." he watches you hide your perplexity at that confession, raising his eyebrows expectantly. you can't help but look into his eyes for a longer time, those that seem to contain fireflies. “you will,” you assure, and you wait, fearful for him to turn around and go back to the party, for him to give up so quickly, for him to agree with you. but that does not happen.

instead, he takes a step toward you, and then another, and you hold your breath. maybe he does too. his hand goes to an unruly lock on your face, pushing it away gently. “i doubt it,” he utters, just for you to hear.

act two.

the auditorium begins to empty out as students carry the romeo and juliet sets backstage. as one by one, the pieces are removed, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach; your last work of the cycle. the last play before you graduate. the memories are inevitable to stop, and suddenly, your vision blurs. you've been doing works since you realized that you could have your own criteria. you've been doing them since you were little, in the safe space of your room, but not interpreting them, directing them. seeing everything from the outside, always expectant. you've never wanted to play a role until that moment when you watched the stage empty.

"all set, boss," jisung shows up unannounced. “i can't believe this is the end,” he comments, without giving you time to recriminate him for the scare he has given you. “ugh… i didn't realize how much i liked working at the drama club,” he says, looking around the auditorium. you chuckle, causing the boy to look at you curiously. "even when i was yelling at you for not doing your job right?" you ask, wanting to sound disinterested but dreading the answer.

jisung simply replies, “that was the best part.” smiling. “it was a pleasure to have been your assistant,” he pronounces, his gaze softening with honesty.

“jisung,” you call as he walks away. the boy raises his eyebrows, waiting, patient, as if he knows. “you weren't… that bad,” you blurt out, trailing off each word, hoping he finds sincerity in your words. he nods, smiling, causing you to add “don't get used to it,” in the process. “uh, by the way,” he says, remembering something, “the principal wants to see us when you have time,” he reports.

you watch him walk away, deciding to pick up the art school principal on your way home. slowly, you walk toward the exit of the auditorium, pacing the room slowly, wanting to remember the scent one last time (excluding the smell of sweat and hairspray). all the auditions, all the plays, the moments when you eat quietly on stage, your gaze lost between the audience seats, with the dim reflector and your ideas traveling at a thousand kilometers per hour as the only company.

"hey!" a high-pitched voice screeches as you accidentally trip over his body. “ah, yn, i was looking for you.” renjun looks at you, his frown replaced by a smile, mysteriously looking glad to see you. “i just wanted to apologize for playing a lousy benvolio role. i'm really sorry, i should have taken your play seriously. you put so much effort into it and put your trust in me, and i'm really sorry,” he says, vomiting the words without breathing, his features contracted into a pained grimace. “you probably hate me,” he adds.

you look at him, breaking the silence with a sigh, "i don't know if i hate you more than i like you." the boy doesn't look the least bit offended. he shows you one of his best smiles, which lights up his face. “oh, i'll take that as a good thing,” he comments. "you know? even though everyone thinks you're evil, you turned out to be quite nice."

"who thinks i'm evil?" you question, catching him off guard. his eyes widen as if he had said something he shouldn't have said, suddenly avoiding your gaze. despite the fact that you had initially said it as a joke, the boy's reaction makes you take his words seriously. "was it your friend?" you continue, "donghyuck?" renjun denies it several times. “i was referring to the drama club,” he confesses, “well, apparently…everyone hates you.”

“old news, renjun,” you declare. you couldn't be friends with everyone, especially when the weight of directing a play fell on you. obviously, there was going to be discord, but as long as the play was perfect, you didn't care if the world ended up hating you. glory was born from hate. however, why did you feel a sting to think that lee donghyuck was behind all of that? he had said worse things in the past. their enmity went back years. their hatred, full of spite and resentment, could be felt if you shared the same room. the tension hanging in the air, making your blood boil and you hold your breath. just thinking about the other made your bodies stiffen, and a knot settle in your stomach.

renjun had said goodbye when you informed him that you should go to the principal's office. jisung had gone ahead and waited for you in the waiting room. when he saw you approaching, they entered the office. “good news,” was the first thing the man in the suit said. next to him, a woman took a seat in the chair where the director used to sit.

someone had seen the work and wanted you to present it at the art show in town. you listened intently to the woman talking about the details of the event. unlike jisung, who would blurt out “oh” and “wow” in every sentence the director said.

they wanted you to present romeo and juliet, again. all the creative protocol was in your charge. a play in the theater of the city, with five thousand people. with a lot of luck, the hundred seats in the auditorium of the school of arts managed to fill up, but the theater… it was another thing apart.

you both said goodbye to the woman and left in silence towards the already desolate corridor of the art school. both took a few steps, walking away from the office, before jisung cheered excitedly. "wait, you're going to say yes, right?" he stammered, looking concerned. your lost look found his, trying to contain a smile to no avail. you nodded several times. yeah. jisung returned to his victory chant.

your steps guided you towards the exit of the art school. as your eyes swept the parking lot, jisung announced that he was on his way out. "do you want a ride?" he asked, as your eyes found what they were looking for. “i'm fine,” you stated in a whisper, watching the boy lean lazily on the side of his car. brown eyes meeting brown eyes. smiles appearing shyly. the warmth of a hug impregnated with its aroma of amber and wood.

his lips left short kisses all over your face, and your hands put distance between the two of you, remembering where you were. “we're in the art school,” you muttered, causing the boy to chuckle. "i'm sorry," he apologized, her eyes flashing with a million emotions, “shall we go?”.

mark had attended the day of the play, and since then, something had blossomed. your heart beats faster when he's near, and an electric shock jolts through you when your eyes meet. however, you haven't kissed since the day of the party. waiting. it's something new for you. him. what you're feeling.

you catch mark staring at you. a nervous laugh suddenly attacks you. "what?" you ask, seeing him raise his eyebrows. “you're very happy today, that's all,” he reveals, turning his gaze to the road. “i'm happy,” you concede, reaching your hand up to her hair. "do you know the play?" you continue, hearing mark nod, "they want me to present it at the theater in town." you watch mark raise his eyebrows in astonishment. "wow, that's…impressive." his hand goes to the hand that's combing his hair, bringing it closer to his lips and leaving a kiss on it. “impressive,” he repeats again, in a whisper.

you smile, meditating. mark leaves another kiss before interlocking your hands and resting them on the panel in the middle of their seats. “this calls for a celebration,” he declares. "wait, what?" you ask between laughs. mark joins them.

the car falls into a pleasant silence. the evening breeze ruffles your hair. the sweet feeling of being this way numbs your extremities. why didn't i meet you before? you think aloud, quickly realizing your serious mistake. however, mark takes it seriously. "i don't know," he simply replies, "fate works in mysterious ways." "do you think it was fate?" you ask, curious. “surely,” he declares, drumming his fingers on your hand. you give him the reason probably was.

as soon as mark has parked the car, both run into a furious donghyuck.

"where the fuck were you?" he bellows, stopping to give you a fleeting glance. you can see how the fact that you were there answers his question, which makes him angrier. "we have to show up in a few hours, and you think of running away with your girlfriend?" he spats.

"well, at least you know what it feels like," you counter, crossing your arms. mark looks at them both, not knowing what to do or say. jeno, who had been observing everything from a distance, makes an appearance to calm the waters. "it's already here, isn't it?" he tries. donghyuck rolls his eyes at his words. “you can't expect us to waste time while you're being romantic, lee,” he complains, “you have responsibilities, abide by them,” he sentences, before walking away into the house, entering the garage.

jeno raises his eyebrows and half-smiles apologetically, before following the dark-haired man's footsteps into the house. you sigh, feeling your muscles tense, as mark stands in front of you, looking quite affected. "hey..." he starts saying. “he's an asshole,” you mutter, imagining pulling that runny tongue out of him. "sometimes." every time, you mean. "maybe, if..." you discover his intentions before he can formulate them. “never,” you settle, “mark lee, never,” you repeat, emphasizing each word.

“i'm not asking you to become friends,” he explains, “just…don't insult each other,” he requests. "at least try." you look at him, reluctant to do as he asked, easily giving in to the way he is looking at you. "fine," you hiss. and with that, you both head inside.

the garage is mainly decorated by the band's instruments. the battery is in one corner, and at the other end, two sofas (a large one and a small one) surround a box that serves as a coffee table. the walls are decorated with posters and license plates, and the lighting is rather dim. jeno is tuning his bass on one of the sofas, while karina is whispering next to him. donghyuck is on his back talking to a girl who is trying to calm him down, putting her hands on his shoulder and hair. just looking at him makes you feel tense again. mark notices, pulling you close and placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.

the girl who is chatting with donghyuck finally looks at you at the entrance, raising her eyebrows in surprise. donghyuck gives them a doggy look before leaving the room. “you must be yn,” she says, reaching out and holding out a hand. you don't know if you should smile or not, so you just don't. “yn, this is our vocalist, ning ning,” mark introduces the girl, “and you know chenle. he's in our course.”, he points to the guy at the keyboard.

“my pleasure,” the girl greets, “will you come to our gig?” she asks. and honestly, you don't know what to answer her. mark hasn't invited you. carrying your thoughts a few minutes ago when you told him about your work, the thought that mark hasn't even told you that he's going to play today causes the knot in your stomach to tighten. the possibility that he doesn't want to spend time with you invades your thoughts.

“i…” you start to say, before donghyuck interrupts you. “she doesn't even like rock,” he says, referring to you. consequently, four pairs of eyes watch you. you glare at the boy, remembering afterward to be nice. “that is to say…, i have not been able to appreciate the genre. but it's never too late,” you confess. the truth is, there's no real reason you hate rock. at least, not one you can remember at the time. you've never taken the time to listen to it, so to say you hate it is pretty extreme. it's easier to say that you hate it than to have to explain that you have no reason to do it other than donghyuck likes it, and therefore, you repelled it.

you feel mark leave another kiss on the crown of your head in the form of support, under the brown-haired gaze. a staring contest over who can break contact first begins. "uh... shall we start the practice?" ning ning asks, getting the boy's attention, who just gives a short nod. mark walks away towards the white guitar resting on the support, and with him, the warmth that emanates from his body. not knowing what to do, you do the most sensible thing: sit next to karina, who pats where jeno had previously been.

“should we play…?” chenle asks, being interrupted by donghyuck. "it doesn't have a name yet, no." is all he says. “lovesong,” ning ning proposs. donghyuck nods and everyone goes to their places, mark strums the strings of his guitar, and in response, donghyuck counts out with his drumsticks.

«i know i love you.

이 제로의 세계 속. in this zero world.

i know you're my one and only.

이 끝이 없던 어둠 속. in this endless darkness.

like oh my god, so holy.»

you watch in fascination as mark plays the guitar with nimble fingers. the enveloping melody of the song puts you in a state similar to ecstasy. the way in which the instruments complement each other, producing an absorbing sensation. jeno's bass with mark's guitar makes the perfect duo, and the drums give it the touch it needs. and ning ning's voice, in perfect harmony, manages to unite everything in a melody that resembles a siren's song. ning ning is like that, bewitching. you can notice how her presence attracts the rest to herself, like an anchor.

you help mark with the cables of the amplifiers while chenle, jeno, and karina are in charge of loading the things into ning ning's van, who is smoking a cigarette outside next to donghyuck. both in a pleasant conversation that is alien to your ears. you watch donghyuck laugh and joke, and restlessness seizes you; the image being quite strange, almost intimate. you look away finding mark paying attention to the same panorama you are looking at. “it's not fair that they're not helping carry things,” you complain, suddenly feeling annoyed. mark chuckles, pinching one of your cheeks, "i think that's my punishment for being late."

“oh,” you say. "you should do it, then." his face twists into a grimace, “what? but it's shared fault,” he argues.

"why's that? i'm not in the band."

“but you're dating a member of it,” he accuses. you open your mouth and nothing comes out of it, while mark looks at you deeply. your body suddenly rises in temperature, making it difficult to breathe regularly. "uh..." you stammer, not knowing what to say. the words melt on your tongue, the heat reaches your neck and cheeks. you are blushing

“pretty,” mark declares, taking in your face. his gaze softens, his eyes widen slightly. you share glances for a few seconds, before he remembers something that causes their features to change. "hey, about today's gig."

“don't worry,” you request, brushing it off. maybe mark has reasons for not inviting you to his little concert. whatever the reasons, you aren't upset about it. maybe a little discouraged. “i have things to do and…” you say, leaving the words hanging because the reality is that you have the night off, and you expect to spend it with him.

“oh, i…,” he reacts deflatingly, “well, i was going to ask you if you wanted to see me play tonight, but…” he explains, fixing his gaze on the floor, looking interested in the carpet, and anywhere in the room except you. “i don't want you to think that i'm inviting you because ning ning told you that we were going to play. i was actually going to ask you when we were packing, but i messed it up, right?" ends with a question, waiting. studying your features. “we can drop you off at your house, on the way to…”.

“i have nothing to do,” you quickly confess, catching the boy off guard. you deny several times, not believing how foolish and desperate you sound. however, there is no going back. “i mean, i remembered that…,” i have nothing to do, you want to say, “i want to see you play,” you finish.

his brown eyes caress yours, before sliding to your lips. her mind meshes thoughts, his face gives them away. your gaze travels over his tanned skin. eyes, nose, mouth. lips parted, holding a prayer. you lick your lips in an involuntary gesture, returning to his gaze, shadowed. his eyes search yours, pupils dilated, asking for permission, before leaning dangerously towards you. your lips almost brushing against each other, your mind evoking the sweet taste of liquor in his mouth on the day of the party.

“okay, guys, we're leaving now,” ning ning announces, clapping her hands several times, drawing everyone's attention. the atmosphere of the moment breaks. mark sends you a pained look, before taking the last cable and encouraging you to follow him outside. the look of donghyuck throwing knives in your direction.

the journey is quite pleasant, the opposite of what you expect. the atmosphere is loaded with jokes and laughter between them, and you as if seeing everything from the outside. laughing, but not interacting. mark has noticed that you are thinking, and has put an arm around your shoulders, drawing you to him. “oh god, i remembered something,” ning ning says, in the front seat, “mark, thank god you decided to show up. donghyuck was about to pull his hair out with his bare hands,” she reports, emphasizing with her hands. donghyuck, next to her, snorts.

"well, it was for a good cause," the black-haired man defends himself, "i was celebrating something."

karina gets interested, “wait, you're dating?” she asks, astonished, before immediately hitting jeno's shoulder. “you owe me twenty dollars,” announced. you are stunned by their interaction, listening to ning ning whistle and share a look with mark, who laughs, waving a hand. “no, not that,” the boy replies, searching your gaze for approval, “yn will present his play at the theater in town,” he finally announces.

there is a reaction shared by the band members. chenle raises his eyebrows slightly, jeno and karina let out a "wow." and ning ning whistles again. "that's great, yn!" congratulates the girl, "don't you think so?" she asks the boy next to her, who simply says “quite a lot.” glancing fleetingly in the rearview mirror. "hey! watch out for the driver,” he protests when ning ning smacks his arm, joking.

you finally arrive at the place where they will play tonight. a bar on the outskirts of seoul. inside, loud music plays in surround style. drinks come and go. mark hands you a beer, which you swallow with difficulty. “yo-dream,” they roar, clasping their hands in the middle of the circle, preparing for the introduction.

the lights dimmed as the band take the stage. the crowd erupt in cheers. ning ning's voice greets the audience, and before long, the band start playing. all attention on her, ethereal. it fits perfectly with the music. chenle joining as second vocalist.

«i know it's real, i can feel it.

난 문제 투성이 love sick. i'm full of problems.

길이 없었어. there was no way.

죽어도 좋았어. i wish i could die.

i'm a loser in this game.»

they have the audience spellbound. singing the lyrics as if they are in a spell, and ning ning is the cause. with her pale skin, with a siren voice. she even catches the eyes of the band members. captivating. chenle glances in her direction, jeno sometimes looks at her, before turning back to the audience, donghyuck, hidden behind ning ning, seems to be staring at her, even though for a moment you think he is actually looking at you.

«please use me like a drug.»

your eyes go to mark, surprising you to see them already looking at you. it feels fascinating to watch. he has donned a tank top, which shows off his chiseled arms and collarbones. his black hair falls to all sides, which he combs back from time to time, leaving his forehead free. the lighting frames his angular features. his wet lips from constantly licking them part, in concentration, while his fingers strum notes on the guitar. the muscles in his arms tensing under his smooth skin.

you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to touch them. soft under your touch, warm. steady, as it looms over you. staring at you, from above, before bringing his mouth closer to yours. his pelvis rubbing against you. donghyuck's suspicious look on stage takes you off guard, taking you out of your thoughts.

your breath quickens at your thoughts. blurring look. you pull yourself together by casting glances around you, thankful that they can't read minds and your wild guesses.

the band eventually says goodbye. you go behind karina to the backstage, looking for mark. you find him keeping his guitar in the lining, a smile blooming on your lips before donghyuck appears in your way. you are about to hit his body if you aren't faster. your eyes meet.

the malicious desire to reprimand him for watching where he was going grows at the base of your throat. however, you remember that you will try to be nice to him for mark's sake, so you clear your throat, in an attempt to prepare yourself. “it was fabulous,” you admit, making no effort to lie. the truth is, it has been wonderful, but saying that to donghyuck would cause his ego to grow.

you watch him frown, and you almost want to roll your eyes. “hey… i guess for both of us's sake we can try being nice,” you ask expectantly, watching him take his hands out of the pockets of his leather jacket. one holds a cigarette box, and the other he holds it to you. the rings on his long fingers send chills from your hand to the rest of your body.

truce.

“congratulations on your work,” he says, before breaking hand contact. “it was obvious that they were going to want to present it at the town theater. i liked it,” he adds, causing you to look at him in disbelief. “you haven't even seen it,” you object.

donghyuck is silent as if debating whether to say it or not. in the end, his lips part and he pronounces “yes, i did.”.

you take his confession seriously when you reply “i thought you hated them,” accusing him, unable to avoid it. "what makes you think that?" he asks calmly. "because you said it. you hate them the same way you hate me,” you reply, “remember?” the memory flashes across his face, finally laughing through his nose. “so you do remember,” you mutter. “something i said in fourth grade? of course,” he sneers.

"that doesn't mean you didn't say it."

“i was a boy, yn,” he pronounces. “sometimes kids talk nonsense,” he continues. “like saying they hate something when they really like it,” he finishes, fixing his gaze on you, taking your breath away. "i have never hated you."

there it is, again. that unknown sensation seizing you, confusing your senses. your mind blurs, and nothing coherent is able to form, under the penetrating gaze of the boy, absorbed in his own thoughts. his eyes, which always look like strong coffee, melt like a shot of expresso. an exhalation leaves his lips, snapping you out of your reverie.

“well…, your comment started our feud,” you expound. “mmm…” he mumbles, looking right through you. “just the result i didn't want, i'm afraid,” he says, before gesturing to the cigarette box in farewell and moving on to ning ning. you, in response, go to mark.

“hey… have you seen…?” he inquires when he sees you approach, however, he stops mid-sentence when you take him by the shoulders off guard and bring your face closer to his.

your hand goes to his neck, soaked in sweat, drawing him towards you, merging your lips with his. kissing them testing them. his hands go to your lower back, closer. his mouth opens slightly, deepening the kiss.

you hang on his neck when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth, impregnated with beer and mint. moving your face for more access, his movements turn from cautious to agitated. suddenly feeling watched; across the room, someone looking back at you. you break the kiss against your will by running out of breath. you hear mark swallow slowly, before directing his lips to your cheeks, leaving a trail of kisses. your eyes turn away from donghyuck as your hands, still on mark's neck, close in a hug, breathing in his scent. “wow,” he sighs, “i think i'm getting used to being kissed off guard,” he teases, circling your waist.

after the concert, you go back to the garage of donghyuck's house: the band's refuge. jeno and karina are in a corner, where jeno is trying to teach her how to use the bass. mark has taken a seat on the single sofa, with you on his lap, chenle is on the long sofa, stretched out and staring up at the ceiling with the beer can on his stomach, and donghyuck has taken the coffee table

“tell us more about your play, yn,” ning ning urges, sprawled between chenle's legs, before taking a swallow of her drink.

“oh, it's romeo and juliet,” you report, “the contemporary version,” you add. “great,” ning ning admits. “by the way,” jeno says, walking over to the group and forcing chenle up to give him and karina a seat. "you haven't told us if we want to be in it again, did we do so badly in romeo and juliet?" he asks, sharing a look with karina.

"no, you do great," you confess, feeling nervous. it's true that you should ask your characters if they want to continue being part of the cast for the presentation in the theater, but the truth is, an unconscious desire has stopped you from doing so. "the truth is… I want to be in it for the first time before, you know, graduate," you admit, "i'm not sure I'm going to direct a play again, and...".

"don't say that," mark demands. "you're wonderful at directing," he assures, giving you a stern look.

"you'd do well as juliet, i bet," karina says, glancing back at jeno, who nods. "i'm willing to play romeo if you wish," he agrees.

"or..." chenle's voice comes. "mark could be," he opines, shrugging his shoulders. mark's eyes widen in astonishment. "wait, are you serious?" he stammers. ning Ning shrugs. "just saying." his brown eyes search yours for answers. "if Shakespeare accepts me, my answer will always be yes," he concedes, a peculiar twinkle in his eye.

you don't know why you feel horrible.

act three.

"benvolio? are you playing?" jisung's eyes widen in a battle of emotions. disbelief. emotion. intrigue. ecstasy.

you nod several times. "mmm..." you state. "you're the ideal candidate. you know the lines, and you almost defeated renjun at the auditions," you explain. "i still don't know why i didn't get the role..." he comments, meditating. you touch his shoulder gently. "that's because you were ideal to be my assistant. call me selfish," you confess.

the fact is that the work is next week. the fact that jisung is playing benvolio has nothing to do with the fact that time is not in your favor. the boy knows the lines and has been renjun's substitute in the last play. honestly, he is the perfect benvolio. also, you have to focus all your attention on teaching mark his lines. it's quite a difficult process because you both spend more time making out than practicing the scenes. it's hard to avoid it. look at his lips as he recites the words of romeo. his hands, with long fingers, touching his chest covered by a linen shirt. it's hard to contain the urge to kiss him right then and there. more difficult to contain the thread of your thoughts about that transparent garment.

"wow, being an actor is really hard," he decides on the way home, letting out a whistle that he accompanies by shaking his head. "i see why you're always in a bad mood," he confesses. the car is silent for a few seconds as you give him a reproachful look before his laughter fills the air. "i was kidding," he admits. "lousy, by the way," you comment before stroking his hair, smiling. it's your favorite thing. running your fingers through it. combing it. especially for what usually comes with it: mark's little moans into your mouth when you kiss.

after the first kiss, you're doubtful about the next step. you find yourself sinking into the depths of your thoughts while looking at him. the desire warming your chest, feeling your heavy tongue when someone decides to talk to you in those moments. and you know mark thinks about it too, yet every time a kiss escalates in intensity, mark stops.

you both want it to be special.

"you haven't played anymore?" you ask when he falls silent. "yes, small places," he explains by tapping on the flyer, "but i thought you didn't want to go since we've been busy with the play, and performances are late at night. i thought you deserved to sleep." you observe his profile, and you lean in to leave a kiss on his jaw. "i always want to go," you whisper in his ear. you hear him chuckle slightly. "really?" "mmm..." you mumble. your lips leave kisses on his ear, down his jaw and neck. you hear him swallow hard, his breathing becoming ragged.

after seeing them play that night, you find yourself wanting to see it again. it's the first time you've experienced something like that, the emotion, the ecstasy of the moment. especially what comes after each presentation. the intimate moment in donghyuck's garage, where they chat about anecdotes and joke with each other while low music sets the scene. friends. that's how it feels.

now that you and donghyuck have declared a truce, everything is more enjoyable. your body no longer tenses, the knot in your stomach is almost imperceptible. the atmosphere is no longer tense between you. finally, both are beginning to realize that it isn't so horrible to be in each other's company. watching him laugh so easily while joking with chenle. maybe it isn't as terrible as you imagined.

"shit," mark growls seconds before the car stops moving. he manages to park it on the side of the highway, both stunned, gaping at the car slowly lifeless. mark tries to start the engine, to no avail, cursing under his breath. "wait here," he speaks before opening the door. "do you want me to call a mechanic?" you propose, sticking your head out the window, and watching him head for the hood. "no need," he mutters, glancing over. "although…," you watch his face light up as he comes up with a solution. "could you call donghyuck?" "i don't have his number," you reply, watching him approach the passenger door and holding out his phone to you in response.

you take the cell phone in your hands, not believing what you're about to do. the phone rings three times before the boy's voice floods the line. "you're late. again," is the first thing he says, in a monotone. "uh…, it's yn," you clarify. you take your silence as a hint to keep talking. "hey, mark's car broke down on the highway on the way to your house," you report. "mark said to call you," you finish.

"tell mark i'm on my way," he replies. you thank in a low voice, ready to hang up when his voice stops you from doing so. "why didn't you call from your phone?" he asks, a tone that reveals curiosity in his voice. "i don't have your number," you reveal, feeling embarrassed. you hear his laughter fill the earpiece. mark becomes interested when he hears you laugh. "did he answer you?" he asks, leaning over the driver's door. "he said he'll be here in ten minutes," you reply. "we're really sorry," mark apologizes to the other members.

mark returns to the space inside the car, leaning back in the seat, and blocking glances. your hand reach for his cheek. the passing headlights of cars on the freeway illuminating his profile. “well, this is humiliating,” he mutters, referring to the accident. you deny, smiling, however, you could tell that he was hesitating. you lean in and place a small kiss on his lips, in an attempt to reassure him, lifting your body from the seat when it increases in intensity. mark welcomed you into his lap as you climbed in, tilting the seat back for more comfort. his hands going to your hips, while yours traced circles on the soft skin of his neck. feeling him under you.

leans towards you, leaving several kisses on your lips. you laughed without avoiding it. “mark,” you point out. “mmm…it's addictive,” he apologizes. “your lips always taste like strawberries,” he confesses, and you feel yourself swoon as you lean in to kiss him.

a sigh leaves his lips as you slowly moved your hips against him. your pulse soaring in your ears when you could feel it. getting hard against your crotch. you move over him again, back and forth, your lips parted with the sensation. the bulge in his crotch pushing against you. your face contracting as a wave of pleasure hit your body. "mark..." you moan.

two sharp blows sent them both into a spasm. as promised, donghyuck looks at you through the car's tinted glass. you rush down from mark's lap, as the boy lowers the window. “hey,” he greets. donghyuck looks down at both, arching his brow. he knows.

he clears his throat, glancing at the highway, disinterested, before opening the driver's door, prompting mark to get out of the car. the black-haired man gives you a short look before getting off.

you cover your face once you make sure both guys aren't paying attention to you. embarrassed, ashamed. fearing that he has heard you. fearing that he has seen them through the glass.

they return to the car minutes later. finally come to life. by the time they start back toward donghyuck's house, the sun has gone down.

"we're really sorry," mark apologizes to the other members. the breakdown has taken up the time they were going to allocate to practice. although the apology is directed towards everyone, donghyuck responds.

"it doesn't matter," he replies.

they end up playing jealousy, jealousy and shinunoga e-wa. the way home is quite silent. no one is joking, and no one is chatting. you even come to believe that they are avoiding you. mark doesn't even notice when you tell him about it when you get to the garage. "maybe we're all exhausted, we've been playing various places the last few days," he tries, but you don't buy it. "i'll go talk to him," you inform him before heading out to find him.

the marlboro trail leads you to it. and ning ning. you fear you are interrupting the hectic conversation they are both having, ready to talk to him at another time. after all, neither of them has noticed you. however, one word catches your eye.

"what will you do when she sees us, huh?" hisses ning ning. "you can't help it forever, hyuck," he adds, taking a short silence that he uses to take an inspired drag on the cigarette in his bony fingers.

you hear donghyuck complain. "she's going to kill me," he assures. "she'll still kill you if you don't tell her."

that conversation is not making sense to you. you are hesitating between interrupting them or leaving, noting that the conversation is heading towards private territory. you don't feel good eavesdropping, especially if that conversation turns out to be a confession between them. but a million unknowns float in your mind. who are they talking about?

"we just reconciled a few days ago. you can't expect me to tell her and have her hate me again. i don't want to ruin it," his confession catches you off guard. the tone of his voice reveals the effort it takes to say it out loud. reconcile with whom?

"she's going to find out sooner or later," ning ning states.

you don't have to connect the dots to conclude that they are talking about you. however, you can't find out about what.

"what do i have to find out?" you ask, finally stepping out of the darkness. donghyuck seems to have seen a ghost, and ning ning simply disappears into the house. "what don't you want to tell me?" you reformulate.

he recovers almost immediately, getting up from the wall where he was leaning and approaching you, menacingly. "who do you think you are, sneaking into conversations that don't concern you?" he accuses, towering over you. "don't try to change the subject." you threaten, discovering his intentions. "what is it that i can't find out?" you ask again.

donghyuck ignores your questions and enters the house, with you on his heels and recriminating him. it's true; you aren't going to give up that easily. with every step donghyuck takes, the chances of finding out what he and ning ning are talking about go with him. you can't let it happen.

donghyuck stops abruptly when you stand between him and his path of escape. your hand instinctively closes on his jacket, preventing him from moving. you look at him sternly, causing him to shoot daggers at you with his eyes. the discussion catches the attention of the others, peeking into the hallway where you and donghyuck are having a staring contest.

"listen to me," he says. "it's a huge opportunity," he begins, and as he explains, your brow furrows more and more in confusion. "i couldn't say no, okay?" he urges, looking at you with pleading eyes.

the realization hits you in the stomach as you realize where the conversation is heading. you feel his hand put on yours, but you break the contact as if it burns. “you… idiot,” you declare, feeling your voice burn in your throat.

you push past him on your way out of the house, hearing him call behind you. you turn a deaf ear to their calls, your mind plunging into the purest anger you've ever felt in your life. how could you have let your guard down? how could you think that you and donghyuck could be friends?

"yn, please."

"leave me alone!" you roar. “i… i'm a fool,” you continue, watching him deny. "yes, I am." you agree. "i should congratulate you; you've won, okay?" you admit.

"what's going on?" mark's voice comes from behind them, causing them to turn their attention to him. “let's give him the good news,” you propose. “dream society will be performing at the town theater,” you inform, feeling donghyuck tense. “his leader wanted to give you the news, but he thought it would be better to wait until I left so i wouldn't find out until the day of the presentation,” you conspire. "probably because he wanted to see my stupid face when i saw you."

mark looks at you, and the absence of surprise weighs heavily in your stomach. "you knew?".

"yn..." he tries to call you, tries to pull you out of the hole you've fallen into, the one you've been pushed into, by his hands, by donghyuck's, by everyone's. he looks at you and you feel like dying, but it's his voice from behind that make the execution.

"yn..." you interrupt him, accusing him with your finger. "you always have to take everything away from me, huh?" you spit “whatever you wanted to prove, well done, you proved it,” you add before walking away, not looking back.

act four.

“you're leaving in ten minutes,” the av assistant reports, peering into the dressing room.

the truth is that you are more than ready. you have fixed yourself in record time, just to be able to review and coordinate with others. the scenery is on stage, the seats are filling up. extras are in their costumes. everything is going smoothly, except for one thing.

it has been a week since you last went to a dream society presentation. mark seems to understand why. just seeing donghyuck's face makes you want to vomit bile. the best thing you can do is break all contact with him, in hopes of extinguishing that knot that oppresses your chest.

jisung comes out from behind the screen to show you his outfit. you tilt your head, watching the boy before reaching over and combing his hair. “better,” you declare.

you look at your phone for the fifteenth time tonight. no notifications. no messages from mark. romeo is not there.

"seven minutes!"

“shit,” you mumble, drawing the attention of the people in the dressing room. the last thing you want is for them to get stressed knowing that a major part of the work is missing, so you smile.

he is not answering the phone either, and boy did you do it more times than you wanted to admit. he has simply disappeared. a part of you begins to fret, plotting the most terrible thing you can think of. mark would have to be on his way to the theater if he is going to perform with the band afterward. it is unlikely that he would not come when he should. if it is not for the work, for the presentation of his band. a thought surges, like poison. what if donghyuck is behind all this? what if mark being romeo was donghyuck's plan to humiliate you in front of the whole town? you are on the verge of collapse.

"five minutes!".

"shut up!" you receive shocked looks from everyone in the dressing room.

without saying a word, you leave the room. you do not notice jisung following you. "something happens?" he asks. finally, you break down, “romeo…mark doesn't show up,” you correct. your gaze clouds; a moan tears from your throat even when you try to stifle it. jisung pulls you closer to him in a hug. "not a biggy." he reassures. you hear him hum, thinking. "jeno?" he suggests.

“it will take more than five minutes to get here,” you comment. besides, if donghyuck and mark are behind all of this, jeno is surely behind it too. “renjun,” he utters. you walk away, compiling yourself. it is not like you to whine. you must be looking for solutions. “he only knows benvolio lines,” you recall.

“huh,” you hear jisung utter. although when you look for his gaze, it is at a point behind you. your eyes go to the place where he is looking, holding your breath.

“mark's car broke down.” donghyuck approaches carefully, as if a sudden movement could break you.

“three minutes!”.

“we need mark,” you say in his direction. “he's not going to make it, yn,” he says, studying your features. “shit, shit.” jisung raises his hands to his head.

"is he coming?" you ask, fearing the answer, "or is he the final piece of your plan?" he tries to maintain a neutral expression, but you know him, you know when your words hit home, and this is one of them. however, you don't find victory in it, much less comfort. "i don't think mark would do anything to hurt you," he says sincerely. "and you?" you say without thinking.

"two minutes!"

“wait,” jisung says, drawing your attention. "you…" he hesitates to look at you when his eyes land on donghyuck. “you've seen the play a couple of times. in rehearsals, right?" both gazes fall on donghyuck, waiting for the dark-haired man's response.

donghyuck just nods slowly.

do you know the lines of romeo?" you ask, trying to hide your astonishment. "yes, i've read something."

"they're out in a minute!"

"jisung, take him to the dressing room. we have to improvise a bit," you announce. jisung steps forward, showing him the way to the dressing rooms, but you stop donghyuck before he gets away. "if this is another one of your jokes, you bet i'll go for your head," you hiss, watching him nod, looking at the bottom of your face to avoid looking at you.

«these violent delights,

have violent ends.»

the play starts, and the whole time, you are holding your breath. you force yourself to take slow breaths and stay calm. even if it goes wrong, it's not the end of the world. in any case, it would be the end of your career. nothing to worry about. you come out in your scenes and deliver every single line you know by heart. it's nothing new to say them; you always knew them. it's the experience, for the first time in front of the public. your body feels light, the moment feels unreal.

your body tenses when jisung and donghyuck come on stage almost halfway through the play. they exchange a dialogue.

"are you in love?" jisung asks, looking at donghyuck. you bite your lips, thinking of a prayer. "out," he replies. "of love?" jisung inquires benevolently. donghyuck's gaze goes to the boy. his features show nothing more than the ghost of a lament. "the one that i love doesn't love me back," he utters, his words emitting sadness to the public, his look causing a pang in your heart.

the scene changes to another. one by one, the work is coming to an end. you can glimpse the band members in the audience. jeno and chenle give you thumbs up, and you have to try not to laugh right then and there.

until the scene you had practiced with mark comes. many times. in rehearsals. backstage. in your car.

donghyuck delivers each of his lines to perfection. it's a little contradictory that he would have remembered them all just by reading the work once. although you don't underestimate it. donghyuck is pretty smart, you know that, and he knows many topics. you've seen him chat with the members when they're relaxing after a performance. so when you witness the emotions he inspires in each of his words, you can't help but believe that he really means them.

then he leans towards you, and impulsively you do too. he has removed the rings from his fingers when he places his hand on your cheek, his face moving closer to yours. your eyes close, feeling his breath mix with yours. your lips finally meet, and he explodes in your chest.

donghyuck kisses you slowly, and you feel your body melt into the other's mouth, savoring the kiss. his body hovers over you, causing a shadow, hiding the desire of the public. feeling his silky lips against yours, you find yourself wanting more. but the kiss doesn't last more than five seconds, and the moment comes to an end when donghyuck's body moves away from you, and you fall into the realization of your thoughts as you kiss him.

and like some sort of magnetic feeling, your eyes travel to a dark corner of the theater. a single figure stands there, as if heading backstage without being seen by the audience, but stops at the last second to witness this exact moment.

you both leave the stage, avoiding each other.

"well done," jaemin congratulates, in the role of mercutio. "it's not over yet," you both answer at the same time. jaemin stares at you, hiding his amusement. "break a leg," he wishes, watching you go off in opposite directions.

shit, what just happened?

the work finishes wonderfully. mark appears backstage, apologizing until he's breathless. he explains that on the way to the theater, his car breaks down, and he has to call a tow truck. his phone dies after calling and notifying donghyuck, with no way to contact you. you can tell that he really feels it. you reassure him that you aren't upset and that it isn't his fault. the last thing you want is for him not to do his best in his presentation by thinking about that kind of nonsense.

the band goes up shortly after the play. those from the drama club watch the performance from the wings, deciding that the views are the best. as always, ning ning introduces the band. her harmonious voice is heard through the speakers of the town theater. "this song is called 'strawberries & cigarettes,'" she announces.

act five.

your body feels like it's floating with mark next to you. the van is full of glee and ready to burst. jisung, jaemin, and renjun have joined in the celebration, causing them to be crammed into the seats. finally, the wars and disputes have ended.

the entire school of arts attends the celebration to bid farewell to the last semester.

the dreams have gathered in the patio of the place, toasting with beer and laughing. "i dreamt a dream tonight," you're surprised to hear donghyuck recite romeo and juliet. jaemin replies, "and so did i," before taking a drink of his beer. "well, what was yours?" you ask. "that dreamers often lie," he utters.

that little scene makes you remember something that had surfaced in your mind after the presentation of his song. your attention goes to the boy next to you. mark has been silent since they left the theater, his face reflecting nothing more than sheer absence. lost in thought, you leave a little kiss on his cheek; you don't want him to continue to torture himself thinking that he failed you in the play, so you come up with something. "by the way," you hear a small "mmm…" before muttering, just to him, "strawberries and cigarettes?" you ask, funny. your attempt to get his attention pays off. "mm…" he agrees, absorbed. "donghyuck named it," he declares, looking at you as if he wanted to find something before looking away, perhaps finding what he was looking for.

you stay hanging, in automatic mode, with a lost look. looking for donghyuck by inertia. their eyes meet, transmitting endless emotions without labels.

the night takes its course, but you get stuck at that moment. watching everyone have fun, toasting, dancing. mark has broken away from your side at one point, and at another, someone handed you a beer that you declined as best you could. the party fades until the members scatter again in the place where you stayed all night.

by the end of the night, everyone is all drunk, except you.

you help jaemin pick up the empty cans and put them in a garbage bag. jeno has taken renjun inside the house when the boy fell asleep on the grass. chenle is throwing up in a bush, and jisung doesn't let go of ning ning for a second, who is smoking calmly next to him.

"have you seen mark?" you ask him. she just shrugs. "i think i saw him leave in his car," she comments.

when the temperature begins to drop, they all go inside the house. "okay, let's divvy up the rooms," jaemin proposes. in the end, chenle and jisung take the giant sofa in the living room, and jaemin settles for a sheet and a cushion on the floor. donghyuck appears just at that moment. "you can take my bed," he offers in the direction of you, ning ning, and karina; jeno says that she will sleep in the van, and by default, donghyuck takes the sofa from the garage.

once everything is decided, everyone goes to bed.

to your and ning ning's surprise, karina has been asleep since before the party ended. in a deep sleep, it's hard to wake her up. you and ning ning lie down on either side of her motionless body.

no matter how hard you try to fall asleep, it's impossible. you can barely get into the bed, not a very comfortable position, and ning ning and karina have taken over the sheets. you stare at the ceiling in silence, debating whether you should just try to sleep or stay awake, considering that it's almost dawn.

however, you end up ruling out both options. your feet take you to the corridor as if they have a life of their own, although deep inside you know that they are paying attention to your deepest desires. trying not to wake anyone, you stop in the middle of the room, realizing how pathetic and desperate your decisions make you look.

"are you going to stay there and watch me sleep?" donghyuck mutters. you see his silhouette sit up on the sofa. it's too late to regret it. "don't you have another sheet?" you ask, watching him sit on the couch. the light hardly enters to see his features, but you can feel his gaze crushing you. "i'm afraid not; i've given them to the dreamies," he explains.

"oh, okay. i'm sorry; i'll let you sleep then," you say, making the move to leave.

"stay." you hear him say clearing his throat before continuing. "uh…we can share mine."

“i don't think it's a good idea,” you think aloud. “you're drunk,” you point out, quickly clarifying, “i didn't mean you're going to do something; i'm just saying it because you'll regret this in the morning.” when you can see him stir.

“i don't think i'm going to regret making sure you're okay,” he says.

there was. the dilemma. to leave. or to stay. donghyuck or…

“okay,” you whisper.

you close the distance between them, watching donghyuck make room for you on the sofa. he passes the sheet over your bodies before laying his head next to you. your bodies so close. legs trying not to get tangled. your hands brushing his chest. “you're shaking,” he comments. you don't know if it's just because of the cold. "i'm sorry," you apologize.

you feel his hand looking for yours under the sheet, taking them to his lips, expelling his warm breath. you are disconcerted when you don't smell a trace of liquor, coming to think that perhaps accusing him of being drunk had been your pathetic excuse. "better?" he asks. you nod slightly. the dim lighting barely reveals his smile. his eyes close sleepily, and you fear that this is the last chance to say it; he would slip out of your reach.

“donghyuck,” you call. his eyes widen again, warming your insides. "i…" god, why did it cost you so much? “it's okay,” he says. “i want to say it,” you murmur. you see him pay attention. “i'm sorry to tell you all those…things. i'm a stupid. it was a giant opportunity, and i just ruined that special moment with my attitude and… i'm so sorry.” your gaze clouds over with contained tears. “it's okay to hate me for the rest of your life,” you sob.

your words are followed by silence, coupled with donghyuck's rhythmic breathing. you feel his lips rest on your forehead. “i thought you would know by now,” he murmurs. you look up to meet his gaze. dark, as if the stars of the night sky had been swallowed. “i could never hate you,” he confesses. his eyes close by inertia under your gaze. “after all, all my love songs are for you,” he reveals, so low, for your ears only. he keeps his eyes closed, as if afraid of finding rejection if he saw you.

your hands go to his cheeks, prompting him to look at you. you study his features, scanning his face in the dark, although you don't need to see to know where his moles paint his face. "careful," he warns when your gaze lingers on his lips for a longer time.

your mouth imagines what they taste like this time if you try them. marlboro. beer. sweet.

a gasp escapes your lips unconsciously, catching donghyuck off guard. your tongue holds a plea, which doesn't need to leave your mouth when what you ask for is fulfilled.

donghyuck's lips devour your mouth fervently with hungry kisses, wanting to appease a long-held desire, wanting to stop a flood of suppressed emotions.

your hands run through his chest, shoulders, and neck, eventually getting into his dark hair, hearing a moan die in your half-open mouth. his body hovers over yours, your legs wrap around his waist, a flame burning in your chest, numbing your common sense, letting yourself be carried away by desire. him, all your senses scream. him. him. him.

his movements become erratic, clumsy, desperate, trying to melt into each other, trying to kiss everywhere, touch everywhere. his hips thrust into your hips in an unexpected movement, feeling his erection against your belly.

your gazes meet between gasps.

"i don't..." you start saying, seeing him open his eyes with blows. “shit, forgive me,” he hastens to say. the very thought made your hands shoot up his arms, stopping him. “no, no,” you utter, making what you meant to say clear. “i…want…i want you to,” you confess, relieved that he hadn't brought up the intrinsic drawback you were both aware of.

“i just…” you continue, “it's the first time i…, you know, i've done it,” you finally say, waiting for his reaction. all you got was donghyuck's deep look. "it's also the first time for me," he answers.

the confession caught you off guard, sitting up on your elbows, almost impacting your foreheads. he had caught you off guard. you never would have imagined. that the boy that he belonged to a gang and misbehavior would not have had his first sexual experience. "shit," you exclaim, "are you sure...?" you asked, being interrupted mid-sentence by him. “yes,” he states, without a stutter. “i want it to be you,” he confesses.

your heart was about to explode. “i want it to be you too,” you agree, before donghyuck kisses you.

between kisses, he deposited you back on the comfortable surface of the sofa. your hands caressed his back when his lips moves to your neck and clavicle. hair tickling your cheeks. smile tasting like honey. his moans just for you to hear. his caresses bristling your skin as his fingers leave their prints on your hips, legs, and arms. inserting them under your shirt, cupping your breasts, brushing your nipples.

your back arch. further. further. further. lifting his shirt, stopping in mid-kiss to pull it over his head. admiring for a few seconds his bare chest. tracing an imaginary path to his belly button with your finger, listening to him breathe heavily. your mouths met again as if all this time they had needed each other. hands down your waist, fingers brushing your belly. "may i?" a question. a yes as an answer.

you feel his fingers get lost under your pants, letting out a gasp when he found his way to your intimate area. putting pressure on it, before drawing small circles. the pleasant sensation of their movements causing your eyes to fix on the ceiling, blinking when you feel your mind cloudy.

donghyuck stimulates your clit with a leisurely rhythm, leaving wet kisses on your neck and shoulders, deciding that your shirt was unnecessary, and ending up on the floor next to his. thumb deciding to leave short little touches as his fingers trailed down into your folds, awakening all your nerve endings.

while everyone slept, your silent gasps and the sound of your wetness crackled in the air.

your legs go numb while a pleasant wave invades you. "that's ok?" he asks shyly. fearing that your voice would betray you, you nod effusively. your hands instinctively going to the place where he was touching you. you got up enough to see his hand move nimbly, hidden by your pants. donghyuck watched you raise your hips and with agitated movements, started to take off your pants. his hand stops its movements, and you almost feel faint.

with one less garment, you go for his pants. donghyuck leans back on the sofa, watching you sit up and remove the piece of cloth, his hips moving up to help you. dark underwear coming out in sight, hiding a bulge underneath. "can i?" you ask the same question, looking at his eyes, the brown completely consumed by his pupils. "always."

a stain darker than the rest of the cloth reveals wetness. your hands went to his crotch, above the cloth. the moisture confirmed your suspicions: precum. you position yourself on the ground, between his legs, watching donghyuck throw his head back, you lick your lips before pulling out his member. beads of semen adorned the tip and without warning. looking prominent and big, you wonder how it'll fit in you. feeling soft yet hard, delicate and pink at the tip, with a visible vein that disappears under the base. you lean in. your warm breath hitting his penis makes him let out a small gasp. your tongue lick the drops of precum, putting the flushed head in your mouth, warm and rigid, causing him to let out a moan. the citrus flavor took you by surprise, gently sucking on the tip, hoping not to waste a drop.

“you're going to kill me,” you hear him say, before taking his full length into your mouth. your cheeks puffed out and your brow furrowed as the tip grazed your throat, pulling it out immediately and meeting the boy's gaze. like this? they ask his contorted features gave you the answer.

a line of kisses from the tip to the base, and back up, putting it in your mouth, pulling it out, and repeating the process while bobbing your head. his small moans letting you know you were doing a good job. his hands on your neck and hair, pulling him out of the picture. your hands going to the base of his member, touching his testicles and watching him tense up. finding yourself loving his whiny voice, his guttural sounds, the feel on your tongue, the trace of his flavor, wanting to taste more.

his hands take you away without warning from him. breaking contact. you watch him breathe heavily, and then watch him struggle to form a sentence. “you,” he says, on an exhalation. "i want you."

your chest explode in a supernova-like explosion. a hot sensation hit your stomach.

"do you have… ?" you see him rummage through his pants pockets. "yes."

his hands search for yours in the dim room, helping you up from the floor. finding your way into his lap. your legs are positioned on each side of his waist, putting all your weight on his thighs, in front of his erect dick hitting his stomach. your chin is lifted up by his hand when you get lost contemplate his masculinity, salivating in desire of having it again in your mouth, taste again his seed. the other hand leaving your hips to open the condom. “why did you have a condom in your pants?” you asked with genuine curiosity. his brown eyes looked at you. “i'm prepared,” he jokes, "i didn't know exactly the time you'd want it so i always carried it."

"shut up," you chuckle.

his mouth trail kisses from your chest to your stomach, lifting you slightly until you feel him at your entrance. hand looking for yours. intertwining. sharing glances as you slowly lower on him.

submerged in the coffee of his eyes, you feel him sink into you. a sharp pain expanding inside you, adjusting to the unknown. donghyuck stays still, watching you scrunch your face into a grimace showing him discomfort. he doesn't move until you push your hips into his. you need to feel it. you wanted it so much.

donghyuck expands your walls, the pain becoming imperceptible, pleasurable. a gasp escapes your lips. “hyuck,” you gasp.

his face is hidden in your chest. “feels…,” he whispers, “very good,” he finishes, before hugging you and pulling you close. the sudden movement causing both to moan for the friction of your bodies intertwined, moving with him.

your hands seek support on his shoulders, arching your hip, feeling it. propelling you up and down again, a slight burn in your groin. your mind going wild knowing that the reason was him. his half-open mouth letting out small pants, which you voluntarily let die in your mouth when you kiss him. clumsily you both laugh.

your face hiding in his neck when your legs trembled. pausing only a little because of the spasms that attacked your lower body, before continuing. increasingly erratic. each time faster. desperate.

"shit." the sound of your sticky arousal driving donghyuck insane, accompanying his hectic breaths. his desperate hands running through your entire body, while a knot grows in your crotch and expands through your belly, numbing your senses.

donghyuck collapses, as the orgasm drains him. holding you close, marking his footprints on your skin. a sharp pang tearing your breath away, before the knot finally came undone, whipping your nerve endings into sweet ecstasy.

slowing down your ride, until it was just small unconscious stimulating movements, still present from the previous episode. rocking your body while feeling him twitching against your walls, coated with your velvety arousal, sensing it slipping out every time you go down on it, shaky “i have to pull it out…,” you hear him say, “before… it stops being erect” he murmurs, receiving a short nod from you.

his hands goes to the base of his member, extracting it from your warmth. your lips leave short kisses on his temple, watching him handle the wrapping with skillful hands, before leading them both towards the comfortable surface of the sofa. his arms encircled your waist. "someone can see us like this" you whisper, remembering the pair of young adults in the next room.

donghyuck leans over and picked up his shirt from the floor, holding it out. “it's really hot all of a sudden,” he says, making excuses for why he was still naked. you put on his shirt between laughs, accepting donghyuck's invitation to lie on his chest. you hear his heart beat slowly.

"so..." you spoke again after a few seconds. “so, strawberries & cigarettes…,” you mention. you felt donghyuck's laughter rumble in his chest. "for you".

"what about lovesong?"

"same."

you meditated for a few seconds. “jealousy, jealousy?” ask now. “you'll have to ask ning ning,” he says, implying that the girl had written the song.

you couldn't contain the smile that form on your lips. again that feeling that warm your chest. love, now you understand.

“hyuck…,” you call, “don't fall asleep.” you could see the smile on his face. discovering your intentions. “we just did it and you want to do it again?” he mock. "you read my mind," he murmurs, before looming over you.

act six.

a tangle of limbs, that's what you notice first, and the absence of noise.

you sit up on the sofa, rubbing your eyes. memories of the night before overwhelm your senses. donghyuck is fast asleep, so you maneuver with difficulty not to wake him up, taking your clothes and deciding to go out and investigate why everything seems so quiet.

the first thing you see is chenle and renjun in the kitchen, preparing a bowl of cereal. joining them, jisung and jaemin eat quietly at the kitchen island. “good morning, boss,” jisung greets. three pairs of eyes shoot your way. “uh, jisung, you can call me yn.” the boy just nods.

"cereals?" chenle asks, in your direction. when you nod, he adds, “can you call ning ning? she's outside, smoking," before returning his attention to what he's doing.

your steps take you to the backyard of the house. ning ning is lost in thought as she puffs on her cigarette, or so you think you notice when you reach her side, exhaling the smoke. “mark was here,” she says, “a few minutes ago.” shit.

her gaze meets yours, her features hardening. "you won't deserve him in a million years," she declares.

you return her gaze, serene. “it's not my fault he doesn't like you,” you finally acknowledge. all this time, you'd thought she had feelings for donghyuck when her heart had always belonged to the boy with the firefly eyes.

you turn your back on her, walking away, going back into the house. "it's already served…" you interrupt chenle mid-sentence. “mark, did he come by car?” you ask, urgently.

“on foot,” chenle replies, “he lives a few blocks from here.” you hurry out, past the garage and the boy who sleeps in it. your mind races with a thousand thoughts per second, and your feet move on their own.

shouldn't be far. you pray that he isn't far away.

"mark!" your breath catches from the effort of running.

he finally turns around, recognition bathing his features.

you shorten the distance that separates you until there's only a prudent space between the two of you.

"forgive me," you beg. "i did not want…".

“i wanted to ignore it,” he confesses, getting tired of waiting for you to finish that sentence. “i wanted to believe that one day you would look at me the way you look at him,” he says under your gaze. you shake your head. "that night when you apologized for kissing me." his eyes narrow, visualizing the memory. “i told you i wasn't sorry,” he quotes. “looking back, i would have avoided all this,” he admits, “maybe if i had run i would have prevented donghyuck from stealing the love that was for me,” he declares.

“if only i had gotten to the play on time. i would have avoided everything."

“i didn't mean to break your heart,” you open up. a laugh leaves his lips. “everything started with him,” remembering the kiss you used to distract donghyuck at the party. "it's only fair that i'm the one who ends it."

mark. the star boy or donghyuck, the black hole.

a sigh leaves your lips as you open your mouth to respond.

finale.

the house is quiet as the members have recently left. you look around the garage, not avoiding feeling nostalgic.

donghyuck is not on the couch, neither are his clothes. a noise coming from the floor above gives away their location: his room.

the boy glances at you over his shoulder. "you're still wearing my shirt, you know that?" you look at the garment. "yeah."

"mark?" he asks, referencing your whereabouts a few minutes ago. he watches you nod slowly, still backward. "aren't you going to look at me?" you want to know, finally making him face you.

you stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, feeling the weight of your actions and their consequences.

donghyuck clears his throat. "i suppose you're here to tell me that you've chosen him, so i'll tell you one thing: don't worry." his words catch you off guard. "it's only fair that it's him. i… was a complete idiot," he opens up. "i wasn't even able to express what i felt for you."

"hyuck." your eyes meet. "then do it now."

a silence settles between them before donghyuck breaks it.

"i'm in love with you." five words. they are enough to bring down all your walls. "i will always be in love with you." his brows furrow in sorrow. "it doesn't matter if you don't love me back."

your feet move by inertia, like a magnet attracting you. donghyuck watches you in silence, his eyes closed when you touch his cheek. finally, he lets out the air he had been holding. “i love you back,” you declare before he kisses you.

his muscles relax under your touch, his tongue savoring your lips before meeting yours. the kiss escalates in intensity, your movements becoming more frantic, and when your feet fall back, donghyuck follows you.

your bodies impact with the soft surface of the bed, taking off each other's clothes with agile movements.

“keep it on,” he requests as your hands went to remove his shirt.

your bodies came together again in a collective gasp. donghyuck closed his eyes, contracting his face, overwhelmed by the pleasant sensation that also ran through your nerves. sinking into you, your mouth opened in a ghostly moan, feeling your head spin.

his hips moved rhythmically, sliding in and out. "look at me." his eyes did as you told. believing that you could drown in the chocolate of his eyes, and in the black hole of his pupils, expanding. his muscles tensing with each thrust. moans coming from his lips, swollen and wet. your body submerging in a sweet ecstasy. eyes filling with tears.

"hyuck...,"you moan, however, nothing coherent could come out of your lips. donghyuck slows down his movements, using one of his hands to comb your hair. “without…” you start, “without condom.” you were able to ensure that his cock twitched inside you. “i'll take the pill,” you mutter with effort.

a sob leave your lips when you felt him take out his member. your gaze travel to the point where your bodies connected, watching as he removed the condom and threw it. beads of precum glistening at the tip. your hands inadvertently go towards his length. you heard donghyuck catch his breath as your hand goes up and down, milking his dick.

"it feels good. you feel good.” donghyuck sank into the crook of your neck, in a tangle of kisses and gasps. your body bristling for him. an exhalation leaves his lips when he reintroduces his member, as the sensation becomes more intense, pounding hard. whimpering as his climax feels closer, feeling you raw, skin to skin. hips colliding, everything ending and beginning there where your bodies get together with each thrust, filling you. intertwining your legs on his lower back, forcing him to go further. deeper. feeling your walls tighten around his girth as he brings both of you to their breaking point, becoming more sloppy.

"i'm so close." a sharp pinprick expand in your core, a current invading your senses. your mind clouding listening to donghyuck's grunts and gasps in your ear.

an electrical wave numbs your senses, feeling your muscles go into spasms, small and short at first, shifting under his weight, arching your back and meeting his body when he pushes into you once more, your hands squeezing his shoulders, traveling to his arms, fingers burying on his smooth skin. hearing him let out a groan, which finally released the tension in your body, both of you letting out "i love you." in one last gasp.

the body of donghyuck collapses on top of you, tensing as waves of pleasure washes over him. slowing down his strokes, going deeper and lighter, milking his seed inside you, hot. the pleasurable sensation of it making you smile softly, sleepily. tired. full.

donghyuck greets you when you snuggled up next to him. silent. the confession still hanging in the air. “i like this character evolution,” he says in a whisper, “no more idiot. or my favorite, dipshit. hyuck” he repeats, "i like how it sounds in your mouth." you leave a long kiss on his mouth. the marlboro mingling with the strawberry flavor. you complain when he broke the kiss.

"did you know that i made you angry just so you would call me that?” he confesses. you deny, laughing.

donghyuck kisses your smile.

"now you know."

#haechan fic #haechan x you #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct au #♡haechan #nct dream angst #haechan angst #nct dream fic #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck smut #donghyuck angst #donghyuck au #mark lee angst #mark lee fic #donghyuck fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader

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issdisgrace · 6 months

Text

THE START OF BILLY HARGROVE AND HIS METAL HEAD BF RELATIONSHIP

WARNINGS: Use of the word fag, nothing else

A/N: There will be a part 2 in the future eventually.

You and Billy officially met when you two were paired together for a History project. Both of you hated the idea of having to work with each other because why wouldn’t you.

You two were complete opposites. You were a 6’2 metal head that wore corpse paint, band tees, and arguably way to many rings. While Billy was a 5’10 blonde hair blue eyed fuck boy that drove a loud ass car.

So it was no surprise that you both asked the teacher if there was anyway to get a different partner.

Unfortunately or rather fortunately the two of you couldn’t get out of doing the project together. While neither of you really cared all that much for your grades you both needed to pass the class and the project would count as 50% of your grade. So you both had to do it whether you liked it or not.

Anyway you begrudgingly both shared your information with one another and planned to meet up at your place that Friday to work on the project together.

Eventually Friday rolled around and Billy showed up late as always in his blue 1979 Chevrolet Camaro.

To say Billy didn’t want to be there was an understatement. Fortunately for him you had all the information the two of you would need to put together the project.

So things went smoothly and you two talked back and forth as you worked getting to know each other.

Which was when you both found out that you shared a genuine love of cars. This definitely helped your guys acquaintanceship and made the project go by quicker.

Anyway in the end the project only took you guys 3 hours which was less than what you both expected it to take. After you guys finished Billy left your place and that Monday you guys presented to the class before you both went back to strangers.

You two stayed strangers again for 2 months until Billy had a problem with his Camaro and didn’t want someone he didn’t know touching his baby so instead of taking it to a mechanic and knowing you worked on cars, he showed up at your house asking for you to look at.

You were of course surprised by this visit and even more surprised when he asked you to take a look at his Camaro. You of course agreed and took a look. It ended up being something real easy to fix so you.

So you took off your rings and handed them to Billy for safe keeping. As you bent over the Camaro fixing the problem.

Billy quietly watched you from the side as you worked on the Camaro. He took note of everything about you from your height and build to your clothes and corpse paint.

As he watched you he felt something grow in his chest. Something all too familiar. Something that he frankly hated. Something he wished to ignore specifically being in this shit hole of a town.

This town wasn’t all to found of people like him. People that liked same gender. But Billy would never call himself a fag sure he liked men but he also liked women. He had no clue what he was but he knew he liked you.

Maybe it was the fact you were so openly yourself and didn’t care what others thought of you or maybe was it the way you held yourself and talked. Who knows because Billy certainly didn’t.

As you were finish up Billy realized he needed to pay you for your work somehow. He wondered if you were gay and would go out on a date with him as payment.

“You’re all set. Your baby should be working at 100% again.”

“Thanks……Um would you maybe want to go out on a date with me. It’s all on me, I just want to um pay you back for your work.”

“Sure that’s fine with me. I’m free this Saturday if that good with you.”

“Yeah that works for me.”

“Well it’s a date then.”

#billy hargove #stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #stranger things x male reader #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x reader

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thisapplepielife · 6 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Sleeping with Spiders

Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss

"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed.

There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway.

“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy.

Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.

Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room.

"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”

"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”

“Steve,” Steve offers.

“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”

They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.

Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.

Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.

They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend.

“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”

Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?”

“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine."

And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.

Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open.

Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with.

"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."

Steve nods, "That's cool."

"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds.

Steve points to himself, "Business."

"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous."

Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."

That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake.

"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday.

"I'm coming up!" Eddie says.

"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back.

"It's my bed!"

"I think not!"

"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!"

This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.

But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.

Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.

Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.

Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses.

“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.

Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”

Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here.

What else is new?

Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely.

Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face.

"This okay?" Steve asks.

Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this.

Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care.

He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now.

Eddie rolls on top of him.

Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?"

Eddie cackles, "No."

Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"

"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning.

Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #only one bed #college au #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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sacredthethreadgvf · 3 months

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Limelight | Jake Kiszka x Reader | Part 1.

Word Count: 13.7k

Prologue

Chapter Warnings: Smoking the herb, Jakes kind of an asshole, kissing and making out. Slight mentions of poor mental health that could be triggering for some. Mentions of self pleasure (f).

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me while I put this story together for you meticulously. I cannot wait to continue to share this story with everyone and I truly hope you all enjoy the slow burn that is only part 1 of our dear series. Buckle up, we have quite the journey together. I have to give the biggest shout out to @joshym, my dear Elisabeth, this story would truly be nothing without your insight. Thank you for your undying support while I navigate this story and for helping me button it up to share with everyone.

Dear readers, as always, if I have forgotten to add something to my warnings or if there is anything that is triggering, please mention it so I can add such to my warning label.

Enough of me rambling, I hope you enjoy!

****

July 28th

STARCATCHER

Houston, TX.

Your alarm blared wildly at 3 am on a Monday morning to your dismay. You had barely slept unfortunately due to the dread of getting on a plane and meeting your new boss in about 13+ hours. Normally, when you are contracted with a new artist there’s a meet and greet between you to see how you would mesh together, to understand what your new boss is looking for in their assistant, what was a big no and what was a necessity. You took this part of your job very seriously.

When Brian informed you that the boys were already on the road and you could not meet in the safe haven of the office with Brian one seat away from you, your heart sank.

You were going into this new job knowing nothing about your boss other than what you were able to research on your own.

Jake Kiszka. A young guitarist seemingly at the height of his career with his brothers and his friend.

Your flight to Houston had ultimately gone faster than you wanted it to. Your anxiety grows more and more as you watch the time tick by on your phone screen. You tried your best to distract yourself with music and reading but found that trying to force your brain to not think about something only made it mock you and remind you about it more. Once you landed, you were immediately meeting with the band's current assistant Rose, who was coming to pick you up from the airport with a “runner”. You were going to be thrown to the wolves quite literally tonight. There was a show and you were told to be ready to go to the best of your ability.

Grabbing your bags off the carousel you walked to the doors in the busy airport, your lungs begging for fresh air after sitting in a stuffy plane for a few hours now. Stepping out you felt the Houston heat invade all your senses and looked to your left to see a short brown hair girl waving you down with a big smile in front of a white van. That must be Rose.

As you approached closer you got a good look at her features. You could describe her as a cute “mousey” looking girl. Small nose, adorable little smile, and a short bob with bangs which she tried her best to tie up and away from her neck.

“You must be Y/N!” She said, greeting you with a wider smile.

“That would be me!” You smiled back at her.

“Here let me help you with your bags.” You helped her pick up your very full suitcase and lay it in the van. You followed her into it shortly after you got your luggage situated. “Alright Chris, were ready to go!” She said, patting the headrest of the driver's seat. She turned to you and gave you a soft smile.

“So, Y/N! Tell me about yourself. I already know a bit from what Nick told me about you after connecting with your agency but tell me more!”

You softly giggled at the energy Rose was giving off. You knew you two would be fast friends.

“There's not much to tell honestly!” You really hated questions like this.

“Oh cmon, how did you get into the industry!” She sat a little closer to you as the van made a sharp turn.

“Let's just say my love for music really attracted me to this career choice. I have zero musical talent but I do love being around it. So I figured I would settle for the fun life of knowing what goes on backstage and working with artists one on one.”

“Ah, you're chasing after the limelight huh?” Rose grinned at you.

“The limelight scares me.” You both laugh.

After a few beats of silence and a quiet moment of watching the bustling city streets from your window Rose spoke up again. “You'll love the boys. They really are the most genuine down to earth men I have ever had the pleasure of working with. And you'll love Jake,” She winked at you once she had your attention. “He's a looker and a sweetheart.”

You blushed a bit thinking back to your wine fueled night when you went down a spiral into Greta Van Fleet on the internet.

“So,” Rose pulled out a little notebook. “Your main focus is Jake tonight, don't let any of the other boys try and con you into helping them out, they're probably going to ask you to do some ridiculous favors just to test you and get under your skin. Especially Joshua.” She rolled her eyes and smirked.

“I thought you said they were all sweethearts.” You snorted.

“They are, but they also all have an affinity for trouble. It seems to follow them everywhere.” She giggled. “I'll try to introduce you to Jake when we get to the venue and he can take it from there. I do apologize I cannot show you around much, we are a couple of hours away from the show now and my attention needs to be on Joshua as he can be quite the diva.”

You raised your eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes. “Don't ask.”

***

You had a brief moment to drop your bags off at one of the tour buses, which you watched immediately get placed into one of the compartment bins on the side. ‘There goes the promise of a shower and a comfy bed tonight’ You thought to yourself. You were running behind Rose attempting to keep up with her speed walking through the back doors of the venue into the noisy white brick halls, clearly on a mission.

“Were later than expected,” Rose said, her tone alarming as she glanced at her phone. “Were already past soundcheck, gosh I hope it went okay.” She muttered to herself.

“Here I got you a pass so you don't get thrown out of the venue.” Her tone lightened a bit but you could still see a hint of anxiety in her eyes. “You could easily pass off as one of the boys’ fans and we cant have security throwing out a newbie on day one.”

You took the little lithograph pass and hung the lanyard from your neck observing its intricate details in the picture. Rose had then given you her phone number and directed you to sit in a dressing room and wait to meet Jake, she apologized profusely that she had to go run off to tend to Josh and you waved her off, understanding that you were the one that was in the way today.

Sitting on the little loveseat in the room you took your time to observe your surroundings. The typical food and drink set up in an artist's dressing room caught your eye. So he likes wine, you noted that to yourself for future reference. You noted the neatly placed hairbrush, dyson air wrap, little make up bag. Your eyes finally settled on the silver suit hanging from the back of one of the doors in the room. You pulled your phone out of your little bag and sent a text to your roommate and parents letting them know you at least made it to the venue and you would catch up with them at a later time as you now had to prepare yourself for work mode.

Your silent moment was interrupted as a tall gentleman who you recognized as the boys’ manager Nick, walked through the door followed by the young guitarist himself. They clearly were in the middle of cracking a joke back and forth as the sound of laughter filled up the once peaceful room.

“Miss Y/N!” Nick waved towards you with a gesture. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece! Thank you for coming on such short notice, I understand this is moving quite quickly for you. Probably more than you're used to, no?”

You stood from your spot and extended your hand to shake Nicks. “It's no problem at all. I am a fast learner.”

“Love to hear that!” He stepped aside briefly and gestured towards the other man occupying the room. “And here is Jake!”

Jake. Everything you didn't expect and more, although you shouldn't have been surprised. You had only seen photos of Jake on stage when you were doing your “homework”. As you two got closer to one another, his bergamot cologne overpowered your senses but not in an unpleasant way. He was dressed casually. Almost too casually. A cut off shirt with another button down and jacket laid on top and a pair of way too baggy slacks hanging off of him and a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes from your view. His hair having a slight wave to it hung from his head.

“Hello Y/N.” He smiled softly at you and extended his hand out for you to shake. You just met the man and yet you already loved the way your name sounded coming from his mouth.

“Hi.” You heard your own voice squeak in your ears. Why am I like this? You internally rolled your eyes at yourself.

“Well,” Nick said. “I will leave you both to it. Show time soon Jake. Be ready.”

Jake nodded and saluted Nick as he walked out the door leaving you both alone. Timidly you watched as Jake waltzed around the dressing room comfortably, grabbing a corkscrew and picking up a bottle of wine from the selection displayed on a table in front of him.

“You drink?” He asked as he began to pour himself a gracious cup of the red liquid.

“Uh, yeah I do sometimes.”

“Would you like a glass?” He reached across the table in front of him to grab another plastic cup and gestured to you.

You waved him off immediately, “Oh no, no I'm okay thank you.”

“Cmon, have a bit of wine with me. It's customary when I meet someone to break into a bottle.” His sunglasses still hide his full face from your view.

“Maybe another time,” You sat down on the couch in the room and pulled a notepad out from your back pocket with a pen. “What do you need me to do for you tonight?”

Jake's eyebrows raised. “Suit yourself I guess.” He approached the vanity opposite where you were sitting and leaned back against it, one ankle crossing over the other.

“I suppose since we don't have much time I will get myself ready tonight as usual.” You could almost hear the hint of distaste in his mouth.

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he took a big gulp of wine. “I'll just need help with side stage stuff.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you writing that down?”

While his tone had a hint of curiosity you easily picked up on the scoff that passed his lips. What a prick..

“Just want to make sure I dont forget anything important is all. That a problem?” You challenged.

You watched as his eyebrows rose slightly over his sunglasses. “No.”

“So what is it that you need assistance with at the side stage this evening Mr.Kiszka.”

He smirked slightly. “Just need to make sure my towels are swapped out every few songs, make sure I have water nearby, and make sure this,” He gestured across the room to the display of wine. “To stay pretty full at all times.”

“Seems simple enough.” Your pen lifted off of the paper. “Anything else?”

Jake shook his head no and smirked at you. “Wanna read that list back to me or what?”

What a douche..

“I'm good thanks. Hey, you good here for a moment? I want to go grab something from my bag on the bus.”

He took another gulp of wine and you watched as his demeanor changed. “All good.”

You felt like you couldn't get out of that room fast enough, your anxiety taking over. But for what? Why exactly were you feeling like this? Was it the fact that you felt like you couldn't handle the workload given to you? The very minimal workload at that. That couldn't be the case. You had done so much more before this job, juggling multiple members of bands before as a stagehand. Maybe it had something to do with the rather attractive guitarist that you were now working for.

No no, stop thinking like that you just met him

He definitely was not what you had expected to be in person.

***

The countdown for show time came faster than you really wanted it to. You felt like you weren't even close to being prepared for what was ahead of you for the evening. Rose met back up with you again and pulled you along with her to the greenroom where the rest of the band had gathered to say a little prayer before walking to the stage. You picked up on a few things that were said, “May Josh's vocals shine bright, may Jake's guitar never fail, may Danny's drums not break, and let's pray that Sam's bass and mellotron carry us along for a journey.”

“Alright boys!” Rose said rather loudly next to you. “Time for stage!”

You were not yet prepared for all eyes landing on you at once and for some reason it made you feel rather small all at once.

“Boys, this is Y/N! Jake's new assistant. Be nice, we want to keep her around.” Rose gestured to you. You watched as chocolate eyes all were focused on you.

“Hey Y/N!” Everyone but Jake said in unison.

“This is Josh, Danny and Sam. You will have more time to chit chat and get to know them later on,” Rose said. “For right now, we are cutting it a bit too close for comfort so lets get a move on!”

Following the boys, security and Rose through the hallway that led to the venue you could hear the screams of anticipation in the background mixed in with the sound of classical music. You could feel a hint of nervousness and tension fill the air as the boys got their cue to enter the stage. This venue was huge, bigger than the ones you were used to seeing. The sound of screams from loyal fans going up an octave once they saw the boys enter the stage which prompted the rest of the venue to follow suit.

Nothing at all could have mentally prepared you for this moment, nor the events that followed.

***

Everything had gone terribly wrong.

You had managed to miss every one of Jake's stage cues. To your defense though, you didn't even know what those cues even were or what he had wanted. To further your frustration and embarrassment, you even had a roadie get mad at you and take over grabbing Jake a fresh towel and placing it within reach for Jake. By the time Jake had come off the main stage to go to B Stage in the back of the venue, he was glaring at you.

“Why don't you just go sit in the dressing room, you're clearly just in the way!”

You wanted nothing more than to hide away but Rose had come up to you after watching the little incident between you and Jake and encouraged you to stay, just stand stage side on the main stage and let Jake breathe it out. Your heart had been beating wildly in your chest and you couldn't wait for the show to finish to have a moment to yourself.

Rounding the corner your mind felt like it was a mess, buzzing away at a rapid pace with anxious thoughts. Were you made out for this? Smaller bands it was a breeze helping out and working for them, but this felt bigger than you anticipated. Jake seemed to get more and more frustrated with you as the show went on until that moment before the encore. You're praying to the heavens that your face doesn't give away the fact that you were crying, thankful you had packed your mascara into your little purse you had.

Backstage was buzzing with people. Everyone was currently packing up bins and rolling them to the buses, others shouting orders to one another and pointing in many different directions. The chaos was unnerving compared to earlier before the show. Walking down a long hallway you passed through a few curtains hung up for privacy between the dressing rooms when you heard him.

“This might have been a mistake.” Jake softly spoke to someone. “She managed to ruin every single thing that I needed tonight.”

Just let it go, you thought to yourself. It’s not worth getting upset over. He just had a long night.

You just tried to keep yourself busy, helping out in any way you could that didn’t leave you in everyone’s way.

But just as you had decided to pretend as though you were oblivious to his harsh words, it was what he said next that had you throwing that sentiment clear out of the window.

“I mean, Jesus. You’d have to be some kind of an idiot to not be able to handle something so simple.”

Idiot?

That was most definitely not going to sit comfortably with you. At that point, it wasn’t about “letting it go,” it suddenly became necessary to defend yourself to your new boss who felt the need to say such horrid things about you on your first fucking night.

Your eyes burned with tears of frustration and exhaustion after your long day. You burst through the black curtain and marched up to Jake.

“First of all, I just fucking got here and had no time to adjust to anything or learn anything about you or what you needed or where to find it.” Your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Second off we don't even know each other and you expect me to know you like the back of your hand? New flash Jake, I dont. So don't just blow me away and throw me to the curb because of one bad night and give me a damn chance.” Your chest was practically heaving by the time you were done speaking. Both Jake and the roadies eyes were wide as saucers staring at you.

Jake's mouth opened a few times but no words came out.

“How about instead of undermining me we sit down and actually talk about what you need from me and how I can actually do my job and in a week if I dont ‘have a grasp’ on anything and Im still fucking up? I'll leave you without a word and you won't have to hear from me again. Deal?”

The roadie Jake was speaking to failed to cover up a laugh with a fake cough and you shot him a glare. He glanced briefly at Jake whose eyes were locked on you with an unreadable expression and then turned away and left you two alone.

“Y/N, I-” Jake seemed to find his voice just as you started to walk away.

“Save it.” You shot back at him over your shoulder and muttered under your breath. “Fucking prick.”

Walking through the same black curtain you had burst through not moments ago you collided with someone who must've been standing close by. “Oh my god Im so sor-”

“That, that was fucking awesome.” Frontman Josh Kiszka himself was grinning wildly at you.

Your heart leapt out of your throat. “Jesus! Eavesdropping much?” You clenched a hand to your chest.

Josh laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder and began to lead you down the hallway, far away from Jake. “No one other than myself or my other brothers really stand up to Jakey boy. You're really giving him a run for his money. I like you!” He flashed you a wide grin.

“Im s-so sorry,” You stuttered. “That was so unprofessional of me to say-”

“No! It was not unprofessional, dont worry about it.” Josh's arm dropped from your shoulder. “Trust me, he's been such a prick these last few weeks he really needed someone to stick it to him other than his own family.”

You weren't listening to Josh and you were letting your anxiety get the best of you for the second time tonight. You could not lose another client due to a complication. As much as your boss stuck it out for you, you knew he was also not thrilled with your recent issues with the last band you worked with.

You broke away from Josh and sat in a rouge chair in one of the hallways and held your head in your hands to shield the tears that were beginning to bubble up again in your throat.

“Hey, Y/N right? That's your name?” Josh asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You nodded but refused to look up at him until he pulled your hands back from your face. “Give him some time. Like you suggested, just have the sit down with him and figure out what the hell he needs from you. But maybe save it for tomorrow? No offense, but you look like shit.”

You huffed a laugh and wiped the rouge tear that slipped down your cheek. “Gee, thanks.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood,” Josh's voice rang like a song and you felt him reach for your hands. “You seem like you've had quite the day my dear. Here, let me show you to the tour bus and your bunk! I'm assuming you will be riding with us since you're going to be hitched to Jake.”

“Your assumptions are correct, unfortunately.” You gave him a soft smile to which he returned.

“My twin definitely has quite the temper sometimes, let me tell you.” Josh sucked a breath between his teeth. “But I promise he's nice. Underneath all the mystery he likes to pretend he holds, he's easy going.”

“You're twins?” You were surprised.

“I'm five minutes older so I'm superior.” He threw you a wink.

“A superior pain in the ass.” Jake's voice rang out behind the two of you. Your breath caught in your throat again as you took a glance at the man who you had raised your voice at not nearly 15 minutes prior.

He had apparently showered in a short span of time and his hair was dripping onto his soft beige button up he was now sporting. His eyes were hidden by the same pair of sunglasses from earlier and you watched as he slung the backpack he was carrying over his shoulder.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be?” Josh rolled his eyes. “Come now Y/N, were almost there.”

“Don't go stealing my assistant now.” Jake shot back at his twin and Josh just shook his head. Clearly there was some twin telepathy that you were missing as you felt the tension between the two rise.

For a moment there was uncomfortable silence held between the three of you and you did not have the heart to speak up. That silence was quickly broken by the sound of diesel engines roaring in the distance and the footsteps of the twins as you walked in between them. Your arms crossed against your chest again, a sign of defensiveness and protection around the strangers you had just met only hours prior. You three walked through a wide entrance into a huge garage lined with at least 8 buses. Chaos was ahead as you watched workers and roadies buzz about getting things packed into different compartments and wheeled to their respective places.

Jake's pace sped up and he weaseled his way around you and Josh who were now walking side by side. You watched as Jake got on one of the tour buses and disappeared deeper into it without another word to either of you or the workers around.

Josh sighed next to you and grabbed your hand briefly and you both stopped walking. “Listen, if he gives you a lot of trouble, come find me. Or Sam. Or Danny. We will keep Jake in check. You seem like a really nice girl and already a great addition to the team. Don't let him get under your skin. He will come around.”

“But Josh, you barely know me. I feel like I messed up big tonight and-”

Josh held a hand up to stop you from talking which you obeyed. “I don't believe that. Give yourself a chance. I can tell you have the vigor and the right attitude to do this job and I expect we will see great things from you. Plus we have all the time in the world to get to know each other” He winked at you and bumped you with his elbow.

“Thank you Josh.” You smiled softly.

“Anytime.” He held his arms open for a hug which you graciously accepted. “Now let's get you settled on the bus yeah?”

***

July 29th.

Denver, CO.

You awoke to the sound of multiple voices talking back and forth and the sound of shuffling feet and bags. The clear ring of Josh's laugh falling through the tight hallway of the tour bus bunks. You rubbed your eyes and reached for your phone out of the side pocket of the bunk.

10:44 AM

Your moment of peace in your secluded bunk was disrupted by a small pull on the drapes of your bunk and you shielded your eyes from the bright light coming from the overhead lights.

“Rise and shine sleepy head,” Rose smiled at you softly. “Duty awaits.”

Rose was gracious enough to re-close the drapes to your bunk to shield you from the prying eyes of anyone walking past to exit the bus. You quickly gathered your water bottle phone and charger and pulled the curtains back, still feeling groggy and not processing your surroundings. You realized pretty quickly that having a moment to sit in peace and quiet was not an option as you made eye contact with Jake's reflective sunglasses lenses and Danny's smirk, the aisle of people sitting at a stand still similar to the aisle of a plane.

“Well well, looks like someone got a good night's sleep.” Danny said, smiling at you and gesturing to your head.

You felt your hair with your hands, a clear rat's nest on one side of your head and then noticed the feeling of drool on the side of your mouth. Your eyes widened, horrified and you pulled the curtain closed again to hide from the men standing eye level right next to you. An absolutely horrifying experience as you heard the two giggle and mutter something along the lines of ‘I remember when I used to crash in bus bunks like that.’ ‘I remember when I had my first real night's sleep.’

You wished at that moment that you could curl up and cease to exist.

What a way to start a day.

Voices and the sound of feet got further away in a few moments and you peeked your head out of the curtain and saw the coast was clear enough for you to finally crawl out of your tour bus coffin and seize the day ahead of you.

After gathering your necessities and locating your bookbag tucked away in a random corner on a couch, you walked off the bus which was located in a back parking lot of a hotel and you were met with Rose once again awaiting your arrival. “Here, I grabbed your suitcase for you. I'm sorry, I should've told you to keep your book bag stocked last night, at least for small items like your hairbrush for the bus. That was my fault.”

You grimaced as you were trying to work out the knots in your hair with your fingers. “It's no worries, I think I was too tired to properly function anyways yesterday to even consider it.”

“Get used to it kiddo,” She began walking towards the hotel. “You will have to learn how to thrive on no sleep with these hooligans. They will surely give you a run for your money.”

“Were not all that terrible!” Danny had caught up with you and Rose.

“That might be the best joke I have heard all week!” Rose said.

Danny covered his heart with his hand. “I'm wounded Rose, I'm wounded real deep.”

Rose rolled her eyes and looked back at you as she approached the front doors of the hotel. “I already gathered everyone's room keys and checked the team in, something one day you and I will hopefully switch off on because it can be a lot of work.” You watched Danny grab a hotel key from Rose's hand, you weren't even sure where she pulled it from.

“You will be rooming with me for most of this tour so we can assist each other with duties. Even though you primarily work with Jake it will be easier for me to help you with things from time to time to make sure we are all on the same page with the band.”

You nodded at her in agreement and followed her into the hotel elevator.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I really did throw you to the wolves and that was my fault. I told Jake to come by our room in about an hour so we can sit down and discuss your duties in further detail so what happened last night doesn't happen again.” She threw you an apologetic look as you grimaced.

“I feel bad about last night.” The elevator dinged announcing your arrival onto your designated floor.

“Seriously Y/N, don’t. Shit was all whacky and all over the place and you had no clue what to expect. I should've had you shadowing someone, I should've had you shadowing me for the night so you could see how the boys work. I blame myself for this one.”

You arrived at your room and Rose swiped the keycard for entry. The room was modest, two queen beds, tv, little desk and table in the corner and bathroom. The beds white linens looked rather inviting for a nap later on if you had the time to take it. Just as both of you were getting settled into the room, you for a shower and Rose unpacking a few of her personal items you heard her sigh rather loudly.

You paused what you were doing, “What's up?”

“Hmm? Oh nothing,” Her head softly shook. “Just Josh needing a multitude of things. I will be back shortly, I must go tend to the king of vocals.”

You both laughed. “Enjoy your shower!” She said, and with that she was out the door and you were left alone in peace.

Your shower was not living up to your standards with the dang water pressure being practically nothing but the warmth of the water, the smell of your favorite soap, and the normalcy of your shower routine put a satisfied smile on your face.

Hopping out, you wiped some of the steam that had collected on the mirror and stared at yourself. Thank goodness for showers giving you and your hair a fresh start. That rat's nest had been worse than you expected this morning on the side of your head, understandable why the boys smirked at you.

You heard a soft knock at the door, assuming it was Rose you didn't bother to put on any clothes and just clung the towel closer to your body. Unfortunately for you, when the door swung open you were met with the young guitarist whose eyes seemed to bug out of his head at the sight of you wrapped in a skimpy white towel.

“Oh my god I am so sorry,” You panicked and pulled the towel tighter around yourself. “I thought you were Rose.”

Jake cleared his throat and attempted to maintain eye contact with you. “It's, uh, its not a problem.”

“Uh, come on in, I just need to grab some clothes really quick.”

You stepped aside to let Jake into your room, heart in your throat out of embarrassment that your new boss has seen you in your current state. You quickly grabbed a tshirt and leggings from your bag while Jake made himself comfortable at a little table that was in the room, pulling out a notebook and setting it in front of himself. You locked yourself back in the bathroom and took a deep breath to ground yourself.

You made your way out of the bathroom to find Jake now across the room looking out of the window at the view of Denver, Colorado and its bustling streets below. His damn outfit makes your head feel fuzzy. His half unbuttoned shirt half tucked in his pants.

“Hey.” You said softly.

Jake turned around and you watched as his wandering eyes traveled across your now fully clothed body, briefly meeting yours as his lips curled in the smallest, barely there smirk. “Hello,” he uttered, the corner of his mouth still upturned.

“Listen, I want to apologize for raising my voice at you yesterday. I totally understand if you want to drop me as your assistant, that was highly unprofessional of me .”

Jake waved you off quickly. “No, it was unprofessional of me to even be talking that way about you. If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry. You were right, I haven't even given you a chance.” He gave you a soft smile, his chestnut eyes glimmering as they peered into yours. “How about we start over. Forget about last night, yeah?”

“I think I’d be okay with that.” You gave him a soft smile back, finding it hard not to at his contagious charm.

“Great,” he says, offering you a firm hand for a more professional greeting.“Hello I am Jake,”

“Hi Jake, Im Y/N.” You took his hand in yours, fighting back a giggle as the blush began to rise on your cheeks. The goosebumps instantly began to prickle your skin at the feeling of his touch. You gasped softly at your own body's reaction and tried to cover it up. You were unsure if you were successful or not but Jake did not acknowledge it so you were hopeful.

“Y/N, it is nice to meet you. I look forward to working together.” He gave you a wide toothy grin now which naturally, you should've guessed, was breathtaking.

No wait, stop. Don't think like that. This is your boss, your job. Remain professional dammit..

Jake gestured to the table behind you, “Why don't we get started.”

You nodded and grabbed your own notebook, pen and planner from your bookbag and joined Jake at the little table.

“I'll go easy on you I swear.” He flashed you another dazzling smile, this time with an added wink and a sweet chuckle under his breath. Why God..why..

“Rose might have some more things for you, I know she's excited there will be someone else around to assist but you are first and foremost my assistant so you'll be handling my things primarily and then I may share you with the rest of the crew as needed. You okay with that?”

You clicked your pen, “Of course!”

“Fantastic.” He opened up his little notebook which had a little bullet point list written down. You glanced at it and were able to read out most of it but averted your eyes out of respect. You didn't want him to think you were nosey. At least not yet.

“I know we already talked about most of this last night so it may be repetitive, my apologies for that. I'll keep things pretty simple for you and just reiterate some things,” Jake wiped the corner of his mouth. “Pre shows Im just looking for help with getting ready. Making sure my suits are ready to go, my boots that I need are clean of scuffs. Might need help with make up here and there,” He cleared his throat. “Just some eyeliner nothing fancy like Josh. Maybe some things with my hair but I'm not sure.”

“I can definitely help you explore some ideas.” You gave him a soft smile that he returned.

“Rose usually handles the food and drinks and making sure the venues have everything we need, I'm not sure if she wants to keep it that way or not but we will have to ask her.”

“Might be easier for her too but yes, we will discuss.” You said.

Jake turned a page in his little book, “Okay now on stage stuff, I know you also got a brief idea of what that would be for me.”

You grimaced slightly at the memory of Jakes harsh tone at last nights show telling you to ‘fuck off’ when you were so clearly in his way and not helping. At least now that you're sitting down, hopefully that won't happen again.

“Basically I just need those fresh towels ready, need my drinks to stay topped off like I mentioned, making sure the roadies follow the schedule for which guitar for which song, yada yada. Making sure I have guitar picks ready to go.” He paused to turn the page again and read down the list. “Then I guess just tending to my basic requests throughout the tour. I promise I'm really not that high on maintenance even if it didn't seem that way last night.” He gave you another soft smile.

“This is all very doable for me. My only request is to keep an open communication with me and work with me, not against me if things go a little haywire while I get used to the flow of your tour.”

Jake nodded. “Deal.”

“So I guess Rose is not making this little meeting of ours.” You giggled softly and began packing up your notebook and pen.

“I'm not surprised,” Jake said, mirroring your actions. “Josh can be very demanding of attention you'll learn that pretty quickly.”

You giggled. “I think I already have.”

***

August 4th.

STARCATCHER

Seattle, WA.

“Damn, you really have some dedicated fans.” You said, looking out the van window at the fans lined up on the street along the venue.

Jake pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “We really do, they're awesome.”

You subconsciously twisted the rings on your fingers in your lap from the feeling of anxiety creeping up in your throat. Jake was the biggest artist that you have worked for so far. Even after your conversation with him the other day where he laid out everything he needed from you in detail once again, you still felt unsure about how tonight would go.

You felt Jake's hand on your shoulder pulling you back to reality. “You okay over there? You're a million miles away.”

You glanced over at him and smiled softly, “Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just a little nervous I guess.”

“No need to be Y/N, things will go smoothly! I promise not to be an asshole tonight.” You both shared a soft laugh.

Things did not in fact go smoothly…

When you and Jake had initially arrived at the venue you were met with a very frazzled looking Rose and others bustling around.

“Rose, what the fuck is going on?” Jake had sat her down on the couch in one of the green rooms. Josh on the opposite end of the couch, threw his arm around her for comfort as tears streamed down her face. Across the room Sam and Danny stood unusually quiet and still.

“One of the runners,” She blew her nose. “Dropped off your stage outfits at the dry cleaners too late and I don't know if we will even have your stage outfits ready to go, let alone everything else adding up. Were missing mic packs somewhere and-and..” She hiccuped. Across the room you saw Danny give Sam a slight nudge with his elbow.

“Okay deep breaths Rose Bud, remember like we practiced the other day?” Josh said, pulling her closer to him. “We will get this figured out. Don't forget Y/N is here, maybe she can help out a bit.”

“Yeah, Y/N can help out.” Jake spoke up, volunteering you. “I don't really have much on my list today and I don't need her until later.”

Rose sniffled and looked up at you. “Would you be able to help?”

All eyes were on you and the panic you felt in the van crept back up in your throat. “Yeah, uh yes I can see what I can do.”

Rose jumped up off the couch and gave you a tight hug, “Oh thank the heavens!”

Shortly after Rose had calmed down a bit, everyone dispersed for the most part. You followed closely behind Sam and Danny as they exited the green room. You picked up on their quiet whispers shared between each other as you turned the corner, your presence apparently going unnoticed.

“Dude, you gotta go get those mic packs.” Danny whispered, bumping Sam with his elbow like he did in the green room.

“I know, I know!” Sam responded, squeezing past a few dolly boxes. “I have to go dig them out from my case.”

“Okay,” You spoke up. “So am I to assume that you two had something to do with the disappearance of those mic packs?” Both of the boys' heads turned quickly in your direction and their eyes grew wide. They had been caught.

“I do not know what you are talking about Y/N.” Danny gave you a sly grin, turning around to face you.

You rolled your eyes, “Of course not. You know, you two have some impeccable timing it seems.”

“Well it's not like we knew everything would go to shit today!” Sam threw his hands up defensively. You couldn't contain your giggle as a smile broke across both of their faces.

“You two are terrible and you're officially on my radar,” You pushed on both of their shoulders lightly. “Lets go get them. At least then maybe Rose will stop crying.”

To your luck, the boys had not so sneakily hid the mic packs in plain sight in Sam's wardrobe case and you had them returned to Rose who swore up and down that you were a good luck charm. She had directed you to give them to Dale who was managing sound and tech for the shows. Walking through a little passageway you made your way into the arena where the beeping sounds of heavy machinery seemed to bounce off the ceilings. Techies and roadies alike were bustling around hanging lights, hooking up mechanicals and wires. The stage was being built and even chairs were already being set up on the floor. You had found Dale pretty quickly who seemed relieved to see the mic packs in your hands and thanked you before turning back to a few other workers and continuing directing them on where things will be going.

You took a moment before reentering the winding halls of Denver's Ball Arena to admire how big the venue was from where you stood on the floor. You couldn't begin to imagine playing to an arena packed full of people like this night after night. The empty seats reaching as high as the ceiling made your stomach churn at the thought of sitting up that high. You wondered how many people would pack in tonight to see the boys play their music. You then noticed a small movement out of the corner of your eye as you panned the rest of the arena in awe.

Was that? No..

Your lips separated with a low gasp. Jake was running. He must've been doing laps around the arena. You stood frozen in your spot watching him closely as he rounded the corner of the venue furthest away from you. His hair was tied back in a low bun against his neck, he had abandoned his usual attire and was sporting a pair of running shorts (something you couldn't picture him wearing) and the skin of his bare torso so clearly glistening in the lighting from the sweat on his body.

You hadn't realized how hard you had been staring until he rounded the corner and was running towards you. He smirked at you as you locked eyes and your heart leapt in your chest at the realization that you had been caught ogling him. You quickly turned on your heel before he got any closer and booked it down the hall.

What the hell is wrong with me..snap out of it..

“See something you like?” You heard his voice ring out behind you. Cocky bastard.

You turned around and looked at Jake, it was even worse having him up close to you now. Subconsciously you waited until he caught up to you to continue walking down the hall.

“Cat got your tongue or something?” He smirked at you as he wiped his sweaty face with a towel. His cologne became ever more powerful as it was radiating off of his hot skin. It was intoxicating. The scents of bergamot and vanilla create a sensual aroma that clouded your mind. Your mouth ran dry and you tried so hard not to steal glances at his sweaty chest. You probably looked like an idiot screaming at yourself mentally to respond to him.

“What would you like for lunch Jake?” You cleared your throat finally. “Anything specific you like for your post run ritual?”

“Mmm, a hot shower.”His tone caught you off guard.

Was he doing this on purpose?

You took a chance and looked his way and you caught what you thought was the tail end of a wink sent towards you. Was he fucking flirting with me? No, no…no way.

He let out a booming laugh, “I just usually have some sort of chicken wrap. Rose should have it already somewhere if you don't mind grabbing that for me.” He wiped the back of his neck and let his hair down as you two got closer to his designated dressing room.

“Sure.”

His fingers grazed your lower back as you cut the corner to the dressing room and your skin felt like it was on fire.

***

The rest of the day ended up running a lot more smoothly than the morning did. Rose was able to get the dry cleaners to expedite the cleaning of the stage outfits and they were back at the venue right as the boys finished their soundcheck and you and Rose hastily worked together to get Josh's jumpsuits laid out for the evening after hanging up suits in other dressing rooms. You had written down a small list in your phone of everything you needed for Jake to have a smooth show tonight.

Towels by his guitar case. Check.

One towel on the amp. Check.

Check with Tim to make sure Jakes guitars are all tuned and ready. Check.

Snacks and drinks in the dressing room. Check.

Wine bottles in guitar case. Check.

Water. Big check.

You felt really prepared for tonight and mentally ready for his cues on stage. Luckily for you, Jake said he had a handle on getting himself ready for tonight and you found him laughing along with something Danny and Sam had apparently said as you walked into the green room for final checks before the walk to the stage.

“Alright boys!” Rose clapped her hands together. “Everyone has their wireless packs all charged and ready to go?”

Everyone nodded collectively.

“Let's have a show!”

***

August 10th

STARCATCHER

Los Angeles, CA.

The morning had gone smoothly thanks to your multiple alarms set to ring every 5 minutes no matter how many times you snoozed them. You were exhausted. Everyone was exhausted actually. The last week of what felt like back to back shows, sleeping in tour bus bunks and arriving at venues, the first thing at the crack of dawn was catching up to everyone. You wanted nothing more than to keep your head buried underneath the soft white linens of the hotel bed sheets with the AC blasting on full, but duty calls and you had to get your adult child to the venue sooner rather than later. Rose of course was up at the crack of dawn and out of the room already tending to the frontman of the band who unfortunately for her, was an early riser regardless of the time he went to bed the night before.

As you did your morning routine and applied some concealer underneath your eyes you were thanking the universe that you were heading home tomorrow. Just one more day, you thought. One more show after this and I can sleep in my own bed and shower in my own home.

Getting yourself moving in the morning was not bad after you had a few sips of your favorite caffeinated drink, however, getting Jake moving in the morning was another thing. He had a tendency to sleep in until the last moment possible. Not to mention actually getting him ready and out of the hotel room on time was like trying to put a coat on a toddler, near to impossible without some sort of fight. Yet, to your surprise today, he was already up and waiting for you to meet him. He had even called a runner for you two already and was waiting with a breakfast sandwich ready to go.

“When the hell did you get this?” You asked Jake as you buckled up in the white van.

“Shortly after I woke up and decided I was hungry.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and decided not to press any further. Thankfully, it seemed as if everything at the venue was in working order. You and Rose caught up on administrative things for the band throughout the day, made sure everyone had their plane tickets booked and ready to go for a quick and easy trip home to Nashville tomorrow. Naturally of course, just because the morning and afternoon had gone smoothly, this meant something had to go haywire before the show.

Rose had finished Josh and Sams make up for the night. You had been giggling to yourself listening to Josh and Sam. You officially learned what a “Rhinestone Diary” was as the bands social media manager, Kaiya, helped put it together. While the Rhinestone Diary offered a moment of fun for a few, for others, tensions were high after so many shows. Lack of sleep and being cooped up together for a period of time was really taking a toll on everyone's emotions.

You were typing away on your computer next to the main green room meant for the band to hang out when raised voices pulled you out of your focus.

“Thats fucking stupid!”

“Jake,” Josh raised his voice. “You cant just make changes like that last fucking minute because you dont want to play Frozen Light.”

“Jake,” Rose spoke softly. “We already sent out the setlist to the sounds and light guys.”

“Okay and?” He snapped. “It's not the first time we've made a last minute change.” Your typing paused and you closed the lid on your laptop.

“Were not fucking playing Highway Tune!” Josh practically screamed. You had never heard Josh raise his voice that loud. You had heard stories of how bad fights between the Kiszkas could get before but nothing could have prepared you for witnessing it in real time.

You had abandoned your laptop and you leaned up against the door frame just as Jake seemed to be exiting the room.

“Fucking selfish prick you know that,” He turned around and looked at Josh. “You know this is just as much my band as it is yours, its called fucking compromise.”

“It's not much of a compromise when we completely change something that I do not want!” Josh's arms crossed and Jake glared at Josh, you and Rose.

Greaaat, now I'm caught in the crossfire.

“What fucking ever.” Jake threw his hands up and brushed past you in the door frame. He began walking down the short hallway towards his dressing room before turning to you. “You coming?”

Without a word you pushed off the door frame and walked over towards him. Your arms had been crossed against your chest in defense from the rising tensions between the boys. Following Jake closely you watched as he yanked his jacket off and set down on the chair in front of his mirror, he seemed defeated.

Your arms uncrossed, “Anything I can do for you Jake?”

“Uh, yeah, I could use some help with my eyeliner pencil,” He let out a breath. “Im shaking so damn bad I can't sharpen the thing.”

You nodded your head and dug through the little makeup bag that was set aside for Jake specifically and located the little black eyeliner pencil that was more than halfway used. The sound of you sharpening the little pencil was the only noise that you heard in the room as you felt Jake observing you.

Unfortunately for you, the soft tip of the pencil kept crumbling in the sharpener as you kept twisting it and twisting it.

“Fuck.” You muttered and felt Jake's eyes glance up at you. “God dammit.” You muttered again as the tip broke for the third time.

“That's the only one I have, stop sharpening it!” Jake snapped at you.

“It's fine Jake we're going home in a day or so, we can get another one.” You kept sharpening the pencil.

“Youre fucking wasting it!” He snapped at you again. This time, he had snatched the pencil and the sharpener out of your hand. “Just go fucking get my phone charger off the bus Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“Go fucking get my charger from the bus. Its not that fucking hard to follow directions.”

You instantly recoiled at his raised voice and your head dropped, you felt like you haad fucked up again. When you took a chance to glance at Jake his back was turned to you and your shoulders slumped. You watched as he examined the pencil in his hands and then threw it forcefully into the garbage can across the room.Great, there I go again. It was a usual occurrence for you to blame yourself for others emotions even if you were not consciously aware of it.

The walk to the tour bus gave you a breath of fresh air at least and allowed you to clear your mind.

By the time you got back into the arena it was already showtime and the boys had been walked to the stage by security. You plugged Jake's phone in and set it on the vanity in the green room, briefly glancing at his notifications but not trying to pay any real attention to them as you saw a list of texts and a few other notifications. Not my business….

Grabbing a bottle of Cabernet off of a nearby table you began your descent to the stage just as you heard the opening lines of what you quickly learned as The Falling Sky and slowed your stride. You knew Jake was angry but you hated that the anger was directed towards you. He had no right to take his frustrations out on something that you didn't cause and you made a mental note to put him in his place another time. Right now, your focus and your job was on Jake putting on a good show for his fans.

Walking up to the side of the stage you checked in with Brian, Jakes “right hand” roadie, that all of his guitars were ready along with additional strings and made a note to tell Rose that you needed more nylon strings for Jakes acoustic as he had already broke a few since the last few shows. Standing near the side stage you observed as the crowd went wild for any little movement the boys seemed to make. Josh's voice echoing like siren through the venue echoing off the same walls you had observed in other venues still made your heart stand still

These boys had talent, talent beyond comprehension, and though you had only known them for a short while you were mesmerized by the craft they created for as young as they were. You found your eyes closely following Jake and while you tried to convince yourself it was because of your job, having to know what he needed at all times, deep down you knew it was because he was the most mesmerizing of them all..

Watching Jake play guitar was like a drug, something you didn't think you needed until it was right in front of you. The raw talent and animalistic way that he played the guitar, the way he made it sing, the way he made it moan and bend to his every need..

Your thoughts were cut short as Rose came up beside you and signaled to the break in the setlist in front of you. Almost simultaneously Jake looked back side stage and signaled to his amp where his cup of wine lay hidden. That was your cue. Staying out of sight you twisted the cap and graciously poured his cup half full. He gave you a half smile and a small thumbs up as a thanks but you returned his gesture with a frown because fuck his attitude earlier. Even if he was feeling better from the energy from the fans in the room doesn't mean that you had forgotten how he had snapped at you.

You made your way back down the stairs side stage and stood by with your arms crossed thinking about how much you wanted this show to end so you could go lay in your hotel room bed and forget about today. You took a deep breath as you heard Jake's guitar wail again, You'll be in your own bed in a few days time, you'll be in the quiet of your apartment, just keep hanging on Y/N..

You watched in horror as Jake approached you, his red gibson swinging on his hips. He stepped down the back stairs with confidence and handed you the white rose he was carrying, “I'm sorry I was a dick to you tonight.”

Oh.

You stood frozen holding the long stem with the white flower delicately on top as Jake gave you a small smile and walked back up the stairs. This was definitely something you were not expecting.

***

August 20th

HOME SWEET HOME…

Nashville, TN.

It had been a little while since the day Jake presented you with his apology. You had accepted the rose willingly when he handed it to you, but you felt in utter shock over it. That evening after the show Jake had sat you down and told you he was really going to work on his attitude towards you, that it was unfair you were taking the brunt of it when his anger had been all towards his brothers. You had parted ways on good terms after coming home to Nashville and you were enjoying your quiet time away from the limelight, and the chaos. You had just sat down on your couch and cozied up for the night when your phone screen lit up next to you unexpectedly.

Jake Kiszka

Hey, you busy tomorrow?

Oh. This is unexpected.

You were snuggled up with a glass of your favorite beverage in hand and your roommate's cat, Beans, purring against your leg as you pet him softly. You had the tv on in the background but you were curled up with your favorite book at the moment, rereading it for the fourth time. Seeing Jake's name across your screen caused your heart to jump in your chest. You haven't heard from him in a few weeks, since the day you parted in the airport to head home when your roommate Addison came to pick you up.

You

Nothing planned, what's going on?

You laid your head against the couch pillow and felt as Beans stretched his paws against you, you smiled in content at the small animal. Your phone vibrated again.

Jake Kiszka

I could use your help cleaning out and re packing my cases for tour in a few weeks. We always make it into a party too with food and drinks and music too so I promise I won't work you too hard :)

You caught yourself smiling a bit. Even though this was going to be work related, the thought of seeing Jake again made your stomach fill with butterflies. Fuck no, stop smiling like that..this isnt right this is your boss for crying out loud…

Yet, you couldn't deny it anymore. You were so clearly lying to yourself.

You were crushing on Jake Kiszka whether you wanted to or not. You couldn't deny how your heart felt at the thought of him and to your demise, you couldn't help but think about him constantly since you ended the first part of the tour. Especially, it seems, at certain moments late at night when your vibrator had fully charged.

Okay, whatever, you were “down bad” according to Addison. You felt ashamed for feeling this way towards your boss but as long as you kept yourself professional around Jake what was the harm in a little crush..right?

****

August 21st

GVF, LLC OFFICE.

Nashville, TN.

You swore you didn't pick out this outfit because you were seeing Jake today. No definitely not the flowy powder blue sundress that was hanging in your closet begging to be worn. You had simply forgotten about it being in there and today was so hot, it was perfect weather for a dress, yeah.

You swiped on a little bit of your favorite lip gloss and fluffed your hair when you caught eyes with your roommate in the reflection of the mirror and yelped. “What the hell is a matter with your Addison?! Don't you know how to knock?” You clenched your heart over your heaving chest trying your best to calm your erratic heart.

Addison wore a proud smirk as she leaned against the door frame, steaming cup of coffee in hand. “Who are you getting all dolled up for? Is it your sweet Jaaake?”

“Mind your business” You turned towards your reflection one more time. One last look to make sure everything was in place. “Don't you have something to do today? Somewhere to be?”

Addison was barricading you in the bathroom. “Nope. Cmon, just admit that you have a crush on him already and I'll leave you be!”

You pushed past her not wanting to acknowledge the feelings growing in your heart and naturally, she followed you as you walked into your room to grab your purse to head out the door. “Keep denying it to yourself and it'll get worse.”

“Yeah well, there's nothing there to begin with, so I don't know what to tell you.” You slipped your favorite comfy shoes on near the front door of the apartment.

“Mhm, suuure.”

At that, you walked out of the door with a dramatic eye roll.

***

The Kiszkas sure knew how to throw a party it seemed.

What had started off as an innocent afternoon unpacking and repacking crates and boxes while listening to music, quickly turned into what Jake deemed “a shit fest” as soon as Sam had located a bottle of tequila hidden in one of his crates.

“Woah!” He had announced to the room, waving the bottle around like a prize. “Lookie what I have here. Who wants shots?!”

Rose stopped packing the box of Tide To-Go sticks in Josh's case. “Sam, were not even finished yet!”

“Why should that stop us? We just struck gold!”

You and Jake made eye contact as you were standing near his dolly box and you both smirked at one another. “Let's go Sammy boy!” He turned and yelled across the room.

“Yes! Jakes in! Now who else?”

One shot turned into, well, several in a short matter of time. You realize the energy had shifted from work to party mode once the music in the room had picked up in volume. To Rose's dismay, the tasks at hand had been long abandoned and swapped in for everyone mingling with each other. The glow of the afternoon sun had settled into darker hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set on the city of Nashville and you had a nice little buzz flowing through your veins. You felt yourself actually relax and let loose and have fun for once, without worrying about being too professional. You were growing quite comfortable around here. Around your little tour family.

You had been perched up against the pool table across the room watching the shenanigans of Jake and Sam fighting each other with plastic swords dramatically. Josh had taken it upon himself to be the ref and Jake had been on and off yelling about how Josh was terrible at his job. You smiled in content as you watched others scattered around the room, watching the childish display or talking amongst themselves.

“What are you smirking at?” Danny approached you.

“Oh, nothing, just uh, feeling happy for the first time in a little while. Grateful I'm here.”

“We're very grateful to have you. Jakes is very grateful, I know.” Danny shot you a small wink over the rim of his cup. Oh?

You were in the middle of talking with Danny about one of your favorite albums to listen to on your self dictated “Vinyl Sundays' in your apartment when you felt a nudge on your shoulder and heard a soft ‘hey’ in your ear. You turned around and were met with Jake, sunglasses on now of course even though the sun had just fully set and a playful smirk resting on his face. A hint of a British accent grazed past his lips when he spoke. “Cmere, wanna show you something.”

Your heart skipped a beat, did you mess something up? No, you couldn't have, not with his body language. You smiled softly at Danny. “Excuse me, it seems my attention is needed elsewhere.”

“Not a problem Y/N, it's been nice getting to know you. You'll have to bring me that vinyl so I can listen to it before the tour starts up again.” He smiled softly back at you.

“I will make sure that I do!”

You followed Jake through the hallways of their management office, both of you silent for a beat before Jake threw a smile over his shoulder at you.

“What were you and Danny talking about?”

“He was asking me about my vinyl collection actually.” You said proudly.

“Vinyl collection huh? Anything good?” He tipped his sunglasses down to throw you a quizzical look.

“Quite a bit actually,” You nodded. “Between my parents collection and my own I would say I have a couple hundred lying around. I try to listen to a new album every Sunday even if it's an album I know or have listened to on a streaming service.”

“Couple hundred?” You couldn't see it now that Jake's sunglasses found their rightful place once more on his nose, but his eyes practically bugged out of his head. You had caught him off guard and you didn't even know it. “Thats, that's quite impressive actually.”

You sighed, “I take pride in my collection but I really owe it to both of my parents, mostly my father, for having quite the exquisite rock and roll and folk collection.”

Jake hummed and flashed you a gut wrenching smile. “I might have to come and listen with you sometime.”

“I'd like that Jake.”

“Which one were you talking to Danny about?” You turned yet another corner in what seemed to be a maze of hallways.

“Oh, I was just going through another box in my parents basement the other day and found quite the gem. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll. One of my favorite songs is on there, Crimson and Clover.”

Jake smiled to himself, “Crimson and Clover, hmm.”

“What..” You were fully ready to defend yourself.

“Oh nothing, seems fitting. Seems very you, you remind me of a little clover. A little good luck clover. You've made my life so much easier on tour lately; it's like you're my little good luck charm. My little Clover.” Jake's fingers played with the stubble on his chin and you felt your cheeks grow warm with blood. “Ahh, and there's the Crimson to go along with it.”

You couldn't hide the smile any longer. The tension was so thick you felt as though you could cut through it with a dull knife.

“Jake?” You asked softly.

He turned towards you, eyes still hiding behind his RayBans. “Yeah?”

“Where are you taking me?” You couldn't help the infectious smile that broke across your face yet again. He was simply electric.

Jake stopped walking and you followed suit. “Ah fuck, Im sorry, I probably should’ve asked this before I pulled you away but do you smoke?”

“What?” You weren't sure you heard him correctly.

“You know.” He pinched his pointer finger to his thumb and raised it to his lips, eyebrows lifting simultaneously in question.

“Oh,” Your arms crossed against your chest. “Yeah uh, sometimes. Not often though.”

“Hmm,” He hummed and reached into the front pocket of his button down shirt. “Well, there's this secret room here that I like to hide away in sometimes and take the edge off after a meeting with the hooligans. Figured I could show you and we could, you know.” He trailed off and his head tipped down towards the ground.

“I'm down I think,” You smiled. “It's been awhile since I smoked though so I might not smoke all that much.”

Jake grinned at you, “Fantastic. No worries, we don't have to smoke it all. Cmon were not far.”

You followed Jake down yet another hallway towards a solid door with a bright exit sign hanging overhead. As he pushed through the door the August humidity engulfed you for a moment but it was short lived as Jake opened another side door from the outside of the white brick building and gestured to you to enter. You were surprised as you stepped into what looked like a, possibly still used, darkroom. Red lights were shining through the room, you could see bins on tables and clotheslines hung up along the walls. At the present moment though, no photos were hung up to dry.

“Woah.” You whispered as you heard Jake close the door behind you. “Is this?”

“A darkroom? Yeah,” He smiled at you softly, his sunglasses finally coming off of his face. “We like to come here and develop the film that we capture. Well, mostly Sam and Josh but I dabble with it sometimes as well.”

“This is really cool.” You said as you walked further into the room. “Kind of disappointed that there's no film developing right now, honestly.”

You heard the click of a lighter behind you and the sound of Jake inhaling. “Yeah, we wouldn't be able to do this though if there was.” He blew the smoke out of his mouth and you watched it engulf his face for a moment in the red light.

Damn these red lights, you thought. Jake somehow looked even sexier than he normally did in the low red lights. He looked like he was damned to steal your soul from you, like he was put on this earth to bewitch you into falling in love with him. He smirked as he blew out another big hit. “Are you just going to keep staring at me or would you like to take a hit of this?”

Your eyes widened with fear and you felt your face flush hot. Okay, thank god for these red lights actually…

You reached out to take the blunt from Jake and pulled it to your lips. You took in a generous hit, not aware of how much you had actually inhaled. But your lungs made sure to point that out to you pretty quickly though as a coughing fit began to wrack through your body.

“Woah Y/N, take a breath if you can.” Jake came up beside you and began rubbing your back, pulling the blunt from your fingers and holding it away from your body. Thankfully, you had carried a small water bottle with you and you were able to stop coughing enough to finally take a few deep breaths. You felt the instant head buzz from the high settling into your body. It wasn't alarming or anxiety inducing, you felt calm. Like your worries had no longer room in your mind.

“There we go.” Jake said softly, his strong hand still rubbing comforting circles along your back that definitely awoke a different type of feeling low in your stomach. “Ready for another?”

“Hell no.” You choked out a laugh and his throaty laugh followed suit. His laugh was music to your ears. How could it be possible that a damn laugh could sound sexy?

“Fair enough Y/N.”

You watched as he lifted the blunt to his soft looking lips that were glistening even in the red light. His eyes flicked to you again as the smoke began to leave his lungs and float through the air. Your eyes snapped to the ground out of embarrassment for being caught staring at him yet again. You hated how his lips tilted up in a little smirk as he realized, as well, that he had caught you again.

Clearing your throat you broke the silence, and the tension “What kind of film do you all usually produce here?”

Another cloud of smoke engulfed the space around you, the red lights showing that the room had a slight haze to it now. “Mostly pictures from the tour. I know Sammy boy is more into this than anything, surprisingly. He constantly carries his camera around with him.”

You hummed and pretended like the clotheslines with hooks were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room rather than the man who was dripping with sex appeal next to you.

“Want one last hit before it's done?” Jake asked, gesturing to the now very small blunt.

“Uh, I'm probably okay, I'd like to avoid another cough attack if possible.” You giggled softly as you waved him off.

“Hm,” His lips pressed into a tight line for a moment. “You ever shotgun before?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You ever did a shotgun with someone while smoking?” He tilted his head at you.

“I uh, don't think so no.” You fidgeted with your fingers as nervousness crept up in your throat.

You watched as he moved a little closer to you, closing the space and making your throat constrict. “‘S pretty easy, I take a hit and then blow it in your mouth. It makes it so the smoke isn't as harsh.”

The spicy bergamot of his cologne rolling off of his skin began engulfing your senses and coaxing you into yet another intoxicating cloud of lust that was Jake. Now, of course, this sense was heightened with your current state of mind.

“Wanna try?” He whispered as he moved even closer to you again. You watched as he stepped in front of you so you two were facing each other head on now.

You slowly nodded your head in fear that your voice would fail you if you tried to speak. You bit your lip in anticipation of what was going to happen next. Jake sucked in a soft breath between his lips and brought his hand up to your chin.

“Don't do that,” He whispered. “Drives me crazy when you do.”

Your lips parted slightly as his calloused thumb swiped along your mouth, that very thumb catching the fullness of your bottom lip for just a moment as you released it from your teeth before he pulled away.

Your mouth was undeniably dry as he smiled down at you and you felt the buttons of his shirt graze softly against your skin. The heat coming off of his body was noticeable and by God did you suddenly wish he would just press himself fully against you.

“Okay, s’easy. Trust me yeah?” He brushed your hair away from one side of your face and your heart leapt out of your chest. You didn't have time to fully comprehend what was happening as you watched him bring the blunt to those perfectly soft looking lips and inhale a deep cloud of smoke. What happened next was simultaneously going too slow and too fast all at once. Your brain struggled to keep up with what was happening as his fingertips dipped into your hair and pulled you closer to him by the back of your neck. Holy shit.

You finally felt Jake's body meld with yours as best it could, the feeling of being pressed between the man you desired most and a shitty little table was instantly the most intoxicating feeling you had experienced in a long time. You didn't feel like you could have prepared yourself for the set of events that unfolded shortly after.

You felt that same thumb from earlier brush softly at the bottom of your ear as he tipped your head up towards him slightly. You wanted to close your eyes but your couldn't bring yourself to find the strength to do so. You watched as he leaned in and gasped softly as you felt his lip softly against yours. Your heart sank to your stomach at the feeling of finally being close to him in ways you only had wished for the last few weeks. You suddenly remembered what got you into this position in the first place as you felt Jakes nose nudge softly against yours. Your mouth parted slightly to accept the smoke tucked away in his lungs currently.At your acknowledgement that you were ready to accept what he was giving to you, you felt Jakes lips press a little harder against yours and you felt the hot smoke flood your mouth. You inhaled as best as you could but you also were frozen in place.

Instead of pulling away immediately as you exhaled the smoke from your own lungs, Jake took a chance and softly closed his lips against yours to which you softly reciprocated as well. This kiss was cautionary and you confirmed how both of you felt in the moment as Jake pulled slightly away, hand still tucked in your hair. You couldn't read his facial expression all too well but his eyes had a determined look.

You made the first move to fully kiss him at this point. You tipped your head up and pressed a more determined kiss to his lips. Jake welcomed the kiss. His lips engulfing your own in a soft, pillowy dream of lust. You felt goosebumps spread across your body as you melted further into him, wrapping your arms around the back of his head and you pulled him impossibly closer to you. As your mouths moved back and forth a little less cautiously at this point you made a mental note for yourself how Jake's bottom lip was most prominent in the kiss. His mouth was warm, and so soft but rough against your own as the sexual tension built up in the room. You felt his hands rubbing down the sides of your body and settling on your hips giving them a soft squeeze as you two deepened the kiss further and your tongues touched for the first time.

Inhibitions clearly out the window, you felt him lift you up onto the table behind you without breaking the heated make out that was now happening. As his tongue dipped further against yours, you couldn't help but moan softly. He seemed to appreciate your reaction as he squeezed your hips tighter and dragged you closer to the edge of the table, your clothed core making slight contact with the buckle of his belt. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing mattered other than Jake and how he felt. Your fingers found their way into his soft hair and you pulled slightly releasing a moan he had been hiding away from you. It didn't feel like enough. More. You needed more….

The shrill sound of an iPhone ringtone broke through the silence in the room making you both jump.

“Dammit Josh,” Jake swore as he looked at the screen of his phone and lifted it up to his ear. “What!” His body was still pressed up against yours and his fingertips were dragging along the exposed skin on your hip. From this position you were in, he looked fucked out and by God he looked delicious.

“I just ran out to my car to grab something dude,” Jake spoke angrily into his phone and rolled his eyes. “No im not in the fuckin, whatever man. Im coming back now anyways chill the fuck out.”

You heard the three beeps of a call ending and Jake sighed and glanced at you, “Sorry Clover”

His fingers grazed across your cheekbone. “Here, let me help you down.”

You felt his hands squeeze your hips again and you felt like you were out of breath. The weight of what happened between you and Jake now settling slowly into your consciousness. Before you could think much further, his fingertips tipped your chin up and he softly pressed his lips to yours one more time. As he pulled away he smiled softly at you and you couldn't help but reciprocate.

He was like a drug, and now that you've had a taste, you weren't sure you were going to be able to give it up. You pressed your fingertips softly to your tingling lips to hide your smile as Jake walked his way out the door, turning around to blow a kiss to you and wave his fingers. His sunglasses take their natural place sitting on his perfect nose once again. You followed shortly thereafter and giggled as you watched the remnants of the smoke pour out the door.

“Cmon darlin,” Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Let's go have ourselves a party, yeah?”

You smiled and wrapped an arm around Jake's torso, “Lets!” You'll deal with whatever just happened tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow is good.

Remember that harmless little crush you thought wouldn't get in the way of anything?

Yeah, well you might've been wrong but you definitely won't be telling anyone about it.

****

taglist: @brujamagik @anythingforjtk @jakesguitarsolo @do-it-jakey-baby @vanfleeter @violetstarcatcher @myownparadise96@ignite-my-fire @nina-23-45

A/N: If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know :)

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka series

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 6 months

Text

a/n: hi hello i wasn’t expecting to write barzy long fic but those damn musician mat photos KILLED me. also yes, i started this fic literally the day after the photos were posted but here we are. it needed major editing and also i need to like sit on it for a bit before posting. ANYWAY it’s here and i’m happy with it? i hate the title but whatever, it is what it is. enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🫶🏻

word count: 4.3k

tw: semi-public fingering but doesn’t go all the way, public thigh grinding

summary: hanging out in a dive bar on long island, the last thing you expect to see is mat with a guitar over his shoulder, joining the cover band on stage

When you look up from responding to a text and Mat’s nowhere to be found, you’re not really that surprised. He does this a lot - gets distracted and wanders off. Occasionally, he’ll be cornered by a fan, smiling gamely for a selfie and chatting for a bit. Every once in a while he gets roped into a game of pool, chatting with the random men like he’s known them for years. Once in a bar in the city, and this one nearly killed you, he struck up a conversation with Aaron Tveit - your favorite Broadway star and secretly a man that you absolutely would use a hall pass on - without realizing that he was talking to someone more famous in certain New York circles than he is.

All this to say, Mat disappearing in the bar isn’t a totally unprecedented occurrence.

You set your phone back down on the high top table and lean a shoulder against the wall next to you, crossing your legs at the ankle and taking a sip of your High Noon. It’s warm-ish now, starting to taste more artificial, and you look over your shoulder at the bar, scrutinizing the crowd that’s gathered and waiting for the bartender to notice them. It’s not worth it to leave the table since it’ll be snatched up in a second, so you flip your phone over and use your index finger to tap out a quick message to Mat asking him to get you another drink when he gets back from wherever he wandered off to - at this point you’re assuming there’s a major line for the men’s room. The little blue bubble floats up and shows it was delivered. Satisfied, you lean back against the wall, scooping your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand and holding it in a lazy ponytail so your neck can cool off a bit.

Long Island is a humid, swampy mess, August slipping away into a moment in time, as Queen Taylor says. But September is doing her damnedest to remind everyone that she’s still a summer month too.

Not that you mind, having been born and raised on Long Island and intimately familiar with the weather extremes, but it’s particularly gross in the bar tonight. Sweaty bodies packed in for the 90s alt cover band that’s supposed to be playing tonight. They’ve played at the bar before and they’re pretty good you have to admit, but right now you’re just wishing for a little bit of a breeze.

Giving up on your hair, you twist it up into a messy knot, securing it with a thin black elastic that’s seen better days. Three loops around thick hair, and you know it’s going to snap before the night is over, but you can’t worry about that now. There’s immediate relief from pulling your hair off your neck and now you can focus on the fact that Mat’s actually been missing for more than a few minutes. You tap your phone screen, looking for a message, but there’s nothing from him, just a few messages in the girls’ group chat talking about Monday night’s poker event. Wrinkling your nose, you look around the bar again, trying to see if you can spot your boyfriend.

It’s too dark though, Mat’s hair and black tee would blend in with the crowds. After a few more minutes of looking, you give up, rolling your eyes and muttering to yourself, “he better not have found Aaron Tveit again,” before taking another sip of your High Noon. The spark of grapefruit flavour hits the back of your tongue and you pinch your lips together, swiping at your lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Drops of condensation roll down the can, making your hand wet and you wipe your palm on the fabric of your dress, already a little sticky with sweat.

Bored without Mat, you reply to the group chat and scroll through Instagram, double tapping on a photo Sofia posted of Olivia and commenting a string of heart eyes emojis. While you’re on your phone, the band takes the stage, a group of older men that have clearly been on the circuit for a while now. You start to swipe over to the phone app, ready to call Mat and find out where he went, when another man comes out onto the stage - this one much younger, much more handsome, and much more familiar to you.

“What?” The shocked gasp falls out of your mouth and either you’re louder than you thought or Mat just has radar to tell where you are at any given moment, because he looks over as he’s adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder and winks at you, his mouth curling up in that familiar cocky smirk you know and love.

Mat’s been fooling around on the guitar for years now and he’s gotten half-way decent in that time, but you had no idea he was feeling confident enough to play in front of a packed bar. Or that he knew the band well enough to ask or be asked to join.

The lights over the stage dim and brighten simultaneously and the band gets into position, drumsticks clicking together to signify the start of the set. In your excitement and rush to grab your phone so you can record Mat, you nearly knock over your drink, catching it at the last second. Mat grins at you again and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, looking down at the guitar to position his fingers. You cover your mouth with your free hand to muffle the excited noises that start when the band begins to play - you want to make sure that the video you record has Mat’s playing, not your squeaks and cheers. He looks a little nervous at the start, focused intently on her fingers and the guitar strings, but as the song goes on, Mat gets more into it and relaxes.

The phone shakes in your hand a little from your excitement and the inevitability of you bouncing a bit on the balls of your feet as you get into the music too. Mat’s hair falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, long at his neck, and a flush of heat spreads through your stomach. He’s stupidly attractive up on stage, playing his guitar, and you’re ready to jump him. You lean up a little on your toes to get a better angle, the hem of your dress fluttering around your thighs. Mat looks up while he plays and spots you again. You move your hand from your mouth and grin brightly at him. He responds with another delighted smirk, shaking his hair out of his face.

Around you, the crowd is into the cover, singing along when they know the lyrics and dancing in that lazy way people dance in dive bars. You catch a few mentions of Mat’s name, eyes landing on a handful of younger girls that are staring openly at him and recording. You bite down on your lower lip to prevent the self-satisfied smirk from forming. There’s something extremely satisfying knowing that all these girls are thirsting over Mat, but you get to go home with him.

Mat shakes his hair back again and scrunches his nose up while he plays and the girl closest to you nearly yelps, “fuck, he’s so hot with that hair.”

Her friend chimes in with, “it’s giving Nathan Scott season four minus the depression.”

The first girl replies, “it’s going to be such a crime when he has to cut it for the season.” She’s not wrong - you always hate when Mat does the Lou-approved chop at the end of the summer.

You muffle a laugh behind your hand and focus on Mat’s playing. The song winds down and his grin is immediate and genuine. He shakes the hands of each of the guys and claps them on the back before wandering off the stage. You stop the recording and set your phone back down on the table, clapping and cheering along with the crowd. The band starts back up again and you bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for Mat to find you.

He ducks through the crowds, still grinning, and appears in front of you suddenly. Before he can say a word, you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and slanting your lips over his. One of Mat’s arms wraps around your lower back, holding you flush against the front of his body. You grin against his mouth - he tastes like peach flavored High Noon, chapstick, and the salt of his sweat. Mat’s tongue swipes against your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and you do, deepening the kiss and twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed up by your lips. The kiss lingers and fades out as you pull back for air, but then Mat ducks forward and kisses you softly. Your forehead rests against his and you exhale a little giggle.

“Hi, babe,” he laughs, whole face crinkled up in delight when he pulls back, one arm still looped around your waist. You can feel his hand tremble against your waist, betraying nerves or leftover adrenaline from his stint on stage.

“Oh my god! You loser!” You laugh, pushing at his shoulder with the palm of your hand. Mat grabs your wrist with lightning quick reflexes and flexes his fingers around your wrist, tightening gently before he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss your pulse point. Your breath stutters in your chest, but you continue, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to play!”

Still holding your wrist, Mat steps closer and shakes his head. “I wasn’t planning on it. I went to the bathroom, sort of got talking with the band,” he shrugs, “it just happened.”

“It just happened!” you echo on a laugh. “Well you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” Mat ducks his head, ears going a little pink underneath his hair. He releases your wrist and scrapes his hand through his hair, the sweaty strands holding in place. Your back bumps against the wall and you realize Mat’s still crowding your body, one muscled thigh in between your legs. You hook an ankle around his, dragging his leg a little closer and the faint smile on his lips becomes more salacious, hungry. He leans his hand against the wall next to your head, caging you in. Your stomach flips and heat coils low, throbbing between your legs.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip and Mat’s gaze traces the movement, eyes darkening in a familiar way. His palm is flat over the curve of your hip, but his fingers curl up a little, capturing the cotton fabric of your dress and tugging the fabric up a little. A flutter of a breeze hits your upper thigh.

“Maybe you should quit hockey,” you giggle a little, blinking lazily, “and play guitar full time.”

“Yeah?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think amateur guitar playing is as lucrative as professional hockey.” His fingers twist in your dress more, making you glad that he has you backed against the wall and blocked with his body. He leans in, pressing his leg against your inner thigh, knocking it out an inch or so, widening your stance. Your entire body flushes with heat and it has nothing to do with the humid bar atmosphere.

Your head lolls back, hitting lightly against the wall, and you hum. “It’s really fucking hot though,” you murmur, tipping your head up so you can press a kiss to the edge of his chin. “All that fingering,” you giggle the innuendo, finding it cheesy even as you say it.

Mat huffs a laugh against your temple. His fingers loosen their grip in the fabric of your dress, letting the damp and sure to be wrinkled fabric fall back against your thigh. “I already have a fingering side-gig,” he informs you, his hand slipping underneath the hem of your dress. He presses the pads of his fingers up against the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp, jolting your hips forward. He strokes the fabric slowly, dropping kisses against your temple and down the side of your face. He works you over through the fabric, sticky arousal collecting between your legs. The lace surely can’t be doing much at this point and Mat’s fingers slide over your inner thighs. His calloused fingertips catch and snag on the lace, stuttering his work and making your clit throb.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna let you touch me after that line,” you laugh, choking off into a little gasp when Mat snaps the elastic of your panties against the crease of your thigh.

“You started it,” he reminds you, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. His forehead touches yours as his fingers continue their exploration, trailing up and dipping under the waistband of your panties. Your stomach clenches when he stops inches from where you really want him and you bump his nose with yours. “You’re not supposed to start things you can’t finish,” he warns, pressing closer to you, sliding his fingers lower. Your skin is hot, sweat beading at your hairline from the effort of keeping your legs from trembling.

You let out a harsh exhale. “Mat,” you mumble his name, grabbing at his wrist with both hands, trying to force his hand lower. He shakes his head against yours and doesn’t budge, your muscle strength no match for his. “We’re in public.” As if to punctuate your sentence, the drummer goes into a solo, the beat of the sticks on the drums pounding in time with your heart.

His fingers curl briefly and then they’re gone, leaving you cold and hot and frustrated. “Okay,” he says, shrugging. There’s an infuriating smirk on his face when you manage to look up. “I’ll behave.” He flips the hem of your dress down and smooths his palm over the fabric.

“I…what…Mat!” You stutter, the throbbing between your legs pounding in time with your heart. “You can’t just…” your voice trails off and you press your thighs together - or try to at least - Mat’s muscled leg is still in between yours and prevents you from giving yourself any relief.

Your absolute menace of a boyfriend holds his index finger - the one that had just been making a home in between your legs and is still wet with your arousal - up to his lips and shushes you. “Shh, I’m trying to listen to the music,” he smirks, sliding his other hand down the wall behind you and wrapping it around your shoulders, easily manhandling you so your back is leaning against his chest while he leans against the wall. You’re so stunned by the delayed pleasure that you don’t resist at all. Mat reaches around you and picks up your half-empty High Noon and knocks it back, holding the can lightly and sliding his arm from around your shoulders to wrap around your waist, forearm pressed against your stomach. His broad palm rests on your opposite hip, blunt nails scratching lightly and absently.

He hums along to the music in your ear and you sink back against his chest, still frustrated, muttering, “I can’t believe you shushed me.” Mat exhales a little laugh and kisses the side of your neck, scraping his teeth against your pulse point. Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck and you drop it back against his shoulder, giving Mat easier access to kiss your cheekbone. “Take me home,” you whine quietly, silently willing Mat’s hand to drift lower, but it remains stubbornly planted on the jut of your hip bone.

Mat’s nose bumps against your temple and you catch the scent of his cologne, mixed with the citrusy sweet alcoholic scent of the High Noon on his breath. He lazily rolls his hips forward, the hard bulge of his erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You grind back against him, whining low in the back of your throat. “Mat, please, I wanna go home,” you mumble, the vibration of the music rattling through your chest. Your hands wrap around Mat’s forearm, squeezing. “C’mon, take me to bed.”

“Babe,” Mat’s arm tightens around you, pulling you harder against his erection. You push your ass into him again, nearly grinding over the thigh that’s still in between your legs, desperate for relief. He holds you in place. “Thought we were in public?” His voice is slightly strangled, his breathing hitching when you press back harder, slipping a hand behind your back and in between your bodies. It takes a second, but you manage to wiggle your hand into place, pressing the heel of your palm, hard, against the fly of his jeans. Mat sucks in a sharp breath and he pinches your hip in warning, his head dipping down and his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a matching warning nip. You hiss at the sting of his teeth, knowing there’s going to be a mark there in the morning when he sucks gently at the spot, tracing his tongue over the faint impressions of his teeth.

“We don’t have to be,” you murmur, brushing your knuckles against the ridge of his erection. “You have a very nice car that can get us home in twenty minutes.”

Mat’s breath is harsh in your ear, the empty can in his hand making a crunching noise when he crumples it in his fist. Your arm is starting to go a little numb, twisted behind your back and pressed in between your bodies, and you’re desperately hoping Mat gives up and gives in to what you want soon. His hand flexes over your hip and you grind down on his thigh again, hiccuping a breath at the drag of his jeans and your lacy panties over your swollen clit. Faintly, you wonder if you’re causing a scene, if people are watching you both, but Mat’s hands aren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be and your grind on his thigh could easily be mistaken for drunken dancing.

“Think you can wait twenty minutes, babe?” Mat jerks his hips into your ass, tossing the can back onto the table top and wrapping his other arm around your stomach so you’re caged against him. You wiggle your hand out from behind your back just before it’s completely lost feeling. “Moving pretty good on my thigh,” he bounces it lightly, sending shockwaves up your spine. “Think you could get off like this?”

Yes, is your immediate thought.

You have and can use Mat’s thick, muscled thigh to get yourself off. Most recently two nights ago, lazily grinding yourself over him on the couch while half-heartedly watching a movie. But tonight, with alcohol and lust fogging your brain and the image of Mat’s capable fingers working the guitar strings, you don’t want his thigh.

“Wan’ your fingers,” you turn your head and press the tip of your nose against the side of his neck, nuzzling him. He smells so fucking good. Mat chuckles, kissing your forehead. “You’re so good with your fingers.” Your hands cross your stomach, covering his hands, and you play with his fingers, lacing them with yours.

“You’re good at getting what you want,” Mat grins and you can feel the lift of his cheek against the side of your head. He squeezes you in a hug once, tightly, before loosening his grip. “You gotta walk in front of me to the car, babe. Hide the evidence of what you do to me, don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Your heart kicks up its tempo in your chest and you lift your head from Mat’s shoulder. “Home?” You ask brightly, wiggling and turning in Mat’s arms, your own coming up to loop around his neck.

“Yeah, home,” he laughs, smirking, cupping your cheek with one large hand and dragging your face up to his for a deep kiss. His hips roll mindlessly against yours and you lift higher on your toes to press flush against him, the throbbing between your legs building. When he breaks the kiss off, there’s a mischievous little gleam in his eyes and a slightly mean curl to his lips. “But you don’t get to touch. I’m gonna practice on you, okay, babe?” He taps his fingertips against your cheek, “just these. Gonna practice my finger placement.” Mat’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, obscuring the usual hazel-green color.

Your head bobbles up and down in an agreeable nod. You’ll agree to almost anything just to get Mat’s fingers inside your throbbing cunt. You also know that he’s a total softie and as much as he tries to act stern and tough, once you get into bed with him it’s only a matter of time before he gives up the act and gives you whatever you want. Honestly, you’re both too horny for each other to really commit to the bit. Plus, you roll your hips up into Mat’s, based on the rock hard erection he’s sporting, you’re not even sure Mat’ll be able to keep to the promise of giving you only his fingers.

His hand slides back from your cheek and tangles in the messy bun knotted at the nape of your neck, gently pulling so your face tilts up. “Let’s get out of here,” he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth and turning you around swiftly, one hand resting on your lower back to push you in front of him and through the crowd. You reach back and tangle your fingers with his free hand, a zap of excitement running up your spine when Mat’s hand slides lower and grabs a handful of your ass.

You’re navigating the crowd with Mat hot on your heels, purposely stepping on the backs of your sandals and laughing when you whip your head around to glare at him. His hand flexes against your lower back, warm through the cotton, and he uses his hand in yours to pull you back slightly so your ass bumps against his groin. “Gotta move a little faster, babe,” he teases.

“You’re a fucking menace, Mathew,” you grumble, a laugh startling out of your chest when Mat finally urges you out the front door and crowds you up against the front of the bar. Heat pools low in your stomach and you lick your lower lip reflexively. Mat grins down at you and ruffles a hand through his hair. It’s messy, the little wings sticking out around his ears and neck, and all you want to do is tangle your fingers in it and pull while he eats you out. And you tell him so, watching with delight as his eyes glaze over a little and his mouth goes slack.

“Why the fuck are we still standing here then?” He asks, voice a little strangled.

A giggle slips past your lips. “You tell me, Van Halen.” Your hands slide up Mat’s arms and over his shoulders so your fingers can twist in his hair. Mat hisses when you tug gently. “Why aren’t we in the car or at home where you can get those talented fingers knuckle deep in me?”

Mat groans your name and drops his forehead to your shoulder, growling a little against your overheated skin. His hands slide to your waist, gripping tightly. You grin wickedly, even though he can’t see it, and tug his hair again. “If you get me home soon, I’ll show off my skills,” you murmur into his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear.

“Fuck,” Mat grunts, grabbing your hand and nearly yanking your shoulder out of its socket with the force of pulling you down the street to his parked car. Your giggles echo around the quiet street, the humid air enveloping you and making your hair frizz around your temples. At the car, Mat pushes you up against the side, grasping your chin in one hand and kisses you, hard and bruising, his tongue dipping in your mouth. His other hand slides up your dress and he presses his thumb against your clit, the rasp of the lace on your clit providing extra simulation. Your knees go weak and you moan into his mouth, flattening your palms against the side of the car for stability. A rush of heat floods between your legs and the longer Mat’s lips are on yours, the wetter you get. At this point you’re not sure if it’s sweat or arousal that’s dripping down the inside of your thighs. He slides his tongue over your lower lip and rubs his fingers against your damp panties again, eliciting a strangled noise from the back of your throat.

When Mat breaks the kiss, pulling back from your face and breathing heavily, you blink up at him, completely dazed and lust drunk. He kisses the tip of your nose and squeezes the inside of your thigh and you giggle, unable to stop the words from slipping out of your mouth, “are you gonna play Wonderwall before or after I get my orgasms?”

A laugh barks out of Mat’s mouth and he pinches your ass cheek, making you squeal. “Just for that, it’s gonna be before,” he laughs again, reaching behind you to pull open the passenger door. You fold into the seat, making sure to flash Mat a little before yanking the door shut and grinning at him from behind the window.

“Who’s the menace now, babe?” Mat sticks his tongue out at you, laughing, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still you,” you tease back, wrinkling your nose at him, knowing he’s going to be so worked up the more you poke fun at him. “Now get in the car, I’m gonna put Wonderwall on so we can get straight to the fingering practice when we get home.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #new york islanders

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happy74827 · 6 months

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Happy Accidents

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You might've broken your leg due to Todd, but that didn't mean you couldn't still have quality time together.

WC: 2672

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

This was such a random plot I came up with, but I’m actually in love with it. I feel that this little one-shot is 100% Todd accurate (I say little but it’s literally 2k words lol).

Also, please don’t send the vegan police after me for my inaccuracies (lmao). Google was my only option 😭😭

『••✎••』

Spending time at the hospital wasn’t the plan you had in mind for your Friday night. You expected it with you curled up on your couch watching whatever crappy reality show that was airing with Todd by your side.

He was always the perfect person to binge with; his reactions were an endless source of sarcastic commentary. It actually made it funnier.

But you couldn't be too upset. You still had Todd, and you had… some television. Sure, it wasn’t 90 Day Fiancé, but it was better than nothing.

Usually, when it came to broken legs, you were at the hospital for two hours. Two. Hours. Not you, of course. Your boyfriend had to be a vegan and have those whacked-out powers. It was a given that there’d be an accident.

Who knew a flying amp could be so hard to catch?

At least you didn't have a concussion. The only injury was your leg, but your leg was completely messed up. Three different fractures in your femur and a torn ligament. It was the most you had ever been injured in your life, including all those times you fell off your bike or when you broke your arm in third grade.

The doctors at the hospital said that they couldn't let you leave until Monday. Surgery was also still on the table and could happen as early as tomorrow, which you definitely weren’t paying for

So, you were stuck in the hospital, eating the terrible hospital food and watching stupid television.

And the worst part about all of this was that it was slowly taking your mind off of Todd.

It was only the last couple months when the two of you started dating. Neither of you were exactly serious or anything, but you had feelings.

He was a big guy and a real sweetheart, not to mention a badass with those powers of his. It was obvious that he had a good heart, and he didn't take shit from anybody. That included you.

You had to admit that it was cute when he got jealous. He never had to worry, though. You were never interested in guys like him. You had your eye on Todd, and now you were stuck in a hospital bed because of him.

Now that it was just a memory, the moment you broke your leg was pretty comical. Envy needed a rehearsal before their band went out on tour the following week, and since you and Todd planned the night out together, you attended their quick practice.

As usual, they were awesome. You were like a little fangirl when Envy started singing. You kept your cool, though, sitting on the couch while they ran tempo and entrances. You weren't paying too much attention either, until you heard a voice and turned your head.

Lynette, the drummer, apparently had a very salty day and decided to pick fights with Envy’s ideas. She even suggested that she should learn how to write songs. That was a big no-no when it came to Envy, and it was made very clear that it would be her last comment for the day.

It was a blur, really. Envy and Lynette were throwing insults at each other, and Todd was caught in the middle of it. He was pretty bad at confrontation when it didn’t technically involve him and so he usually let it slide, but something about Lynette had pissed him off this time.

You could still remember the words he said.

"You know what I hate about you? Your hair."

You giggled, and that was your mistake. Lynette absolutely loved her hair. That haircut was her pride and joy. Todd could never understand what it was about it, but it was Lynette's favorite feature.

So, when he insulted her favorite thing in the world, she immediately started attacking your boyfriend, causing you to go over and try to stop this before it escalated.

Well, it escalated. Todd subconsciously went into “vegan mode” when he was mad. It was a defense mechanism or something like that. In any case, an accidental movement of his hand had an expensive amplifier aimed right at your leg.

Envy saw it coming and screamed his name to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear her over Lynette, and you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

And then, everything stopped. All you felt was the excruciating pain that was apparently your broken bone, multiple places, as you later found out. Your mind went blank for a moment as all the horrified expressions of each band member turned towards you.

Todd threw the amplifier aside with his powers, profusely apologizing to you. His hair settled back down to normal as he took you in his arms.

"Oh, god, am I an idiot." He said. "I didn't mean to… oh, man, you’re okay, right?"

You were on the verge of tears when you nodded your head. The adrenaline of the moment had taken over your pain as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Envy most definitely cursed him out on your behalf. Lynette was still pissed as she stood off to the side, crossing her arms with a huff. She didn’t really know you, so she didn’t really care that you got hurt.

But Todd knew you, and he cared a whole hell of a lot about you. He was going to be making up to you for a while. You were going to get the apology of a lifetime and probably an entire chocolate cake with strawberries. You loved strawberries.

You did not care about your injury at that moment, though. The scene of Todd apologizing to you, Envy yelling derogatory words at him that were obviously unknown to him, and Lynette's head turning in the other direction was probably one of the best sights you had ever witnessed in your life.

“How’re you feeling?” Todd’s voice snapped you out of your memory. He was in the chair beside you with a hospital pillow on his lap. He had a bag of Doritos in his hand, which he was munching on.

You turned your head over to him and couldn't help but smile. It was a smile full of love and adoration, one that made Todd raise an eyebrow.

"I'm alright," you replied, reaching for the water that was by your bedside. You failed miserably, but Todd noticed it and hovered it over to your hands.

He took the opportunity to grab another chip and take a bite before looking back at you.

"You sure you're okay? I mean, you got hurt 'cause of me.”

"That's what I get for dating a badass, I guess." You laughed, shaking your head.

Todd scoffed, "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"Whatever." He crossed his arms and pouted a little bit. "I'll have to watch my back more now. I could have killed you."

“It’s okay. Envy would’ve reunited us if you had. She would’ve torn you a new one. I'd say you dodged a bullet there.”

As Todd munched on his Doritos, nodding along to your words, you knew there was nothing in his brain that connected what you’d just said. He was most definitely agreeing, just to agree.

And just because of that, you couldn't help but admire him. He was sitting there with his messy hair and those brown eyes of his. His clothes were wrinkled, and you could see the tiredness in his eyes, but none of it mattered to you because he was still so beautiful.

Todd being a vegan was also a blessing because it gave him such an amazing physique. He was lean but toned, his abs always visible even under his baggy shirts. Not that you cared if they were showing or not.

"Can I have a chip?” You asked him.

He turned towards you with a look of horror on his face. "You don’t like these. You like the non-vegan Doritos.”

“Aren’t they all… not vegan?”

Todd let out a sigh, his eyes rolling back.

"Not these. Spicy Sweet Chili. I got these from the vending machine. They're for me."

He sounded like a little child, which you couldn't help but laugh at. He always was so serious about these things, even though they were snacks that were meant to be shared with people.

"That's not what I asked." You said.

"Yeah, but-"

You made grabby hands at him. You were starting to feel that pain again as your muscles were getting tired. You needed those chips.

"Todd, please."

He let out a sigh, trying to hold back a smile. He was always such a big softie for you.

He handed over a bag of chips, and you wasted no time in taking one. Immediate regret as you took a bite out of the spicy snack, choking as you did so. You managed to swallow it down before taking in a drink of water to wash it all down.

"Told you that you wouldn't like them." He said with a grin.

"I… like them. I just don't like how I feel after I eat them."

"Mhmm.”

You glared at him, narrowing your eyes. "Stop being smug."

"I can't help it if I'm so cool." He winked.

He wasn't wrong, though. Todd had a very good self-esteem about himself and was never shy to tell you so. But it was the way he said it, that smug look of his and his stupid wink, that made you want to punch him and kiss him.

It was those little things.

"You know," you said as you crossed your arms, "this isn't how I planned on spending my Friday night."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I mean, I thought we were going to have some quality time. The two of us and the TV, I really wanted to catch up on that old Ed and Rose storyline.”

"I know, I know.”

"And instead, I'm here with and because of you." You glared at him as you finished your sentence.

He was ready for your attack, crossing his arms to match yours. You two were in the middle of a staring contest when Todd opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came in at the worst possible moment to interrupt him.

"Ah, you're awake. How're you feeling?”

Unfortunately, this made Todd win the battle as you were forced to look at the nurse. She had a smile on her face, one that made you feel relaxed. Todd turned to look at her as well.

"I'm feeling better now." You said. "Thank you for asking."

The nurse nodded her head, writing down your words before turning to Todd with a smile. "Since your friend—”

“Girlfriend.” He corrected her, pointing a finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, turning your head to the side as you did so. Your laughter got the nurse to smile.

"I apologize. Since your girlfriend is doing better, you’re welcome to visit back in the morning. Visitation hours are from eight to twelve and one to three. After that, only family will be allowed in.”

Todd turned to look at you, and you could see that he wanted to say something, but with a simple nod from you, he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, giving the nurse his attention.

She gave him another smile as she looked back at you. "I’ll come back in about an hour for a checkup. Press the button if you need anything in the meantime."

"Thank you." You replied.

She left the room smiling, leaving the two of you to look at each other.

You let out a sigh as you leaned your head back on the bed, closing your eyes. Todd's eyes never left you, staring at you as you did so.

“Should've said we were married. I would've been able to stay the night here." He said.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep because of your snoring. You know, that's why I get up so early in the mornings. I have no choice but to leave the bed when you're snoozing away."

Todd had the audacity to smile at that, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I don't snore. Besides, you love the way my arms feel around you."

You opened one eye, staring at him. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. I'm just stating the facts. I have great arms if you hadn't noticed."

You scoffed at him and his bragging. You closed your eyes again.

"I hate you so much."

"I know." He said with a smirk on his face. “Can I have my chips back now? You ate almost all of them."

You handed the bag back to him without another word, sighing deeply. You could feel Todd's stare at you as he opened up the bag again.

You heard him take another chip into his mouth as he stared at you, but he was too quiet, so you knew he had something else to say.

"What?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know that I meant it when I said sorry, right?"

"Of course I know, Todd. You always apologize."

He swallowed down his chips. "Yeah, but this time I really meant it. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn’t mean to; I just got pissed at Lynette, and that all happened."

"Todd, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. You would never hurt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

You opened up your eyes again, looking at him. He was staring down at his lap as he said those words, biting his lip. You could tell that he was genuinely worried about this, so you reached over and made grabby hands again, but instead of the chips, you were looking for him.

Todd looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. He placed the bag of chips aside and got out of his chair, going over to the side of the bed to look at you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his neck, smiling at him.

"I'm positive. I know how much I mean to you, Todd. You don't need to worry. I'm not mad at you."

He was looking right into your eyes as you said that and nodded his head, moving closer toward you as he placed his hands on the side of the bed. You didn't want him to be too far away from you, so you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear."

"I know." You replied. "It's not your fault."

You stared at each other for a few more moments before he leaned down and kissed you. He placed both of his hands on either side of the bed as he deepened the kiss. He didn't do this often, but when he did, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He was also extremely careful now that you had broken your leg, making sure that he wasn't putting any pressure on your side. He placed one hand on your face to hold you in place as he kissed you while his other hand supported his body.

It felt like a few minutes had passed before he broke the kiss. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

It wasn't the first time he said it, and it definitely wasn't the first time you had said it to him, but it was the first time you heard those words without any fear in his voice. There was no worry, no hesitation, only love.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile on his face. His brown eyes always captivated you, especially when he smiled.

You felt your own smile spread as you looked into those beautiful eyes of his, kissing him on the cheek before snuggling up to him.

You felt his hands wrap around your body and sighed contently. Eventually, he’d have to leave, but until then, you were going to enjoy this.

And if it came with spicy chips, then even better.

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wheels-of-despair · 6 months

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I Hate Mondays Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Like his beloved Garfield, Eddie hates Mondays. Evil Woman decides to give him a reason to look forward to them. Contains: Early relationship fluff, Garfield references, Eddie being loved and adored and showered in lavish gifts like he deserves. Words: 1.3k

"Hey," you beam at your boyfriend of approximately one month as he drags his feet through the door of your first period classroom.

Eddie gives you a sleepy smile, drops his stuff on the floor, and plops himself into his chair. He crosses his arms on the desk and leans his head on them, ready to go back to sleep.

"Rough morning?" you tease.

"I hate Mondays," he mumbles through his shaggy mane.

"That's very Garfield of you," you laugh.

He turns his head toward you, so you can see half of his pretty face. "You like Garfield?"

"Doesn't everyone?" He blinks so slowly, you wonder if he's going to keep his eyes closed. "What's so bad about Mondays?"

"Early. Sleepy." The first bell rings, and he drags himself off the desk and leans back in his chair. "Start of another long week in this hell."

"I kinda like Mondays," you shrug. He narrows his eyes like you've just insulted his favorite band. "It means another week where I get to spend at least eight hours with youuu," you grin, lightly poking his cheek and hoping to come off as patronizing instead of sappy.

"Really?" The corner of his mouth twitches.

"I mean, it's probably not exactly eight hours, but if you count this, and lunch…" your finger waves through the air as if you're doing the math on an imaginary chalkboard.

"Well I feel like an asshole."

"You are," you grin. He gives you a gentle shove to the shoulder as the morning announcements begin.

One week later, you waited for him in the parking lot. He even drove slower on Monday mornings. But everyone was still accustomed to getting out of his way when he came roaring through every other day of the week, so perhaps they hadn't noticed. Students scattered, and Eddie pulled into his usual space and hauled his body out of his warm van and into the cool morning air with a groan.

"Good morning, sunshine!" you chirped. You weren't really much of a morning person yourself, but he was so grumpy and adorable, you couldn't resist messing with him. He fixed you with a deathly glare, and you brandished a freshly baked muffin at him.

"What's this?"

"I believe it's called a muffin."

"Why?"

"I don't know why. But I know this one's got blueberries in it."

His glare is ruined when he raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

"It's for you, doofus."

"Why?"

"Because I made a batch and I wanted you to have one."

A smile slowly spreads across his sleepy face. He reaches for the muffin with one hand and wraps you in a hug with his free arm. You'd bring him something every damn day if it got you one of these.

But for now, you'd stick to Mondays.

It took him a month to realize what you were doing.

"You don't have to keep buying me stuff, you know," he said shyly one day after school. He was resting between your legs, his back against your chest, in the back of his van. Sometimes you hid out here for a few minutes of alone time. He was using your knees as armrests and holding his hands out in front of him, fiddling with the black plastic spider ring you'd given him that morning. It was so small, it settled just below the nail on the tip of his finger, but he wore it all day and played with it anyway.

"I like giving you something to look forward to on Mondays." You try not to panic about making him uncomfortable. Since the muffin, you'd also given him an alien-shaped eraser, a bag of cookies, a quarter-sized bouncy ball, and his spider ring.

"I have you to look forward to on Mondays," he mumbles. His hair is hiding his face, but you know he's blushing.

"Awwwww," you coo, pushing his hair aside to give him a kiss on his burning, tomato-colored cheek. "I know you're gonna find this hard to believe, but I didn't have to blow my life savings on that."

"I know," he chuckles. "But you still don't have to."

"What if I want to?"

He doesn't answer.

"Is that okay? I mean, I'll quit if you think it's weird."

"It's not weird," he says slowly, "it's just… new."

"What, you've never had a girl shower you with random gifts before?"

"Nope."

"Does it make you feel like a kept woman?" You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and feel him chuckle.

"No."

"What if I told you," you whisper scandalously near his ear, "that I found the spider ring in the parking lot at the grocery store, on my way to drop a whole dime on the bouncy ball?"

He laughs.

"I mean, I washed it before I gave it to you, obviously. Who knows how many diseased children might've drooled on it."

You can feel him shake with silent laughter, but you're still waiting on him to tell you to stop. You're getting impatient. You knock him with your knee. "Let me nice to you, dammit!"

"Fine, fine, keep spoiling me with baked goods and priceless trinkets."

"Victory!" you shout, lifting your arms in a triumphant V.

"But I'll warn you now," he rumbles in a low voice you've often heard in Hellfire, "you keep this up, and you might never get rid of me."

"That's the goal, Munson." You wrap your arms around his shoulders again and pull him close. "Can't tell anybody I'm nice to you, though. I've got a reputation to maintain."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he says, relaxing into you and walking his fingers up your leg, making it look like the little plastic spider is being chased by the metal rings that actually fit him.

Eddie learned to love Mondays. Not just because of the gifts you gave him - which were quite badass, by the way - but because you always demanded a kiss as payment.

Sometimes it was food you'd baked or picked up on sale. (You always kept a bag of gummy worms in a secret compartment of your backpack for emergencies.) Sometimes it was something he needed, like a new pencil. (With "Corroded Coffin" carved into the wood, completed during a thrilling afternoon in detention.) Sometimes it was something fun, like one of the sticky little slappy hands from the gumball machines at the grocery store. (You two are the reason those are now banned in Hawkins High.) And sometimes, you went the hand-made route, like with the flip book of Principal Higgins and Miss Click that would probably get you both suspended if it were discovered. (It was not.)

This went on for the rest of the year.

On the last Monday before summer vacation, after all the exams had been taken and all the teachers were phoning it in, you gave Eddie what was probably his favorite Monday Gift of all.

You waited 'til the last few minutes of your last class together, asked for the bathroom pass, and came back with an envelope shoved into the waistband of your jeans, hidden under your shirt.

You pulled it out when you sat back down and handed it to him under the table, keeping your eyes to the front of the room.

You hear the paper crinkle as he opens the envelope, and then he lets out a sound somewhere between a choke and a gasp.

When you can't resist the temptation any longer, you look over at him. He's so red, you're worried his face is going to start bleeding.

Eddie "The Freak" Munson is holding a pair of warm panties in his hand, in the middle of a school day, in a Hawkins High classroom.

When the bell rings, he springs into action. He shoves them into his pocket, grabs your hand, and bolts.

Sorry, Garfield. Eddie Munson no longer agrees with you about Mondays.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #am i happy with it? no. am i sick of looking at it? yup.

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katiapostsss · 3 months

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. . 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 sam monroe

. . .

🎬//

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ : ⁱ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ

ʷᵉʳᵉ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˢˢˡᵉ ⁱ

ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ.

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ :

ˢᵃᵐ ᵐᵒⁿʳᵒᵉ x

ᵍⁿ! ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

warnings! : swearing

mentions of sex

request here (hope u like it ❤️)

〰️

in the week you had been going to your new school, all you had managed to acquire were some classic high-school bullies with bleach-blond hair and flaky mascara, and a newfound hatred for learning.

sure, academics always sort of annoyed you. there were times it frustrated you to the point of tears, exhaustion, everything the average student went through, but 7 days of california education and you felt you could throw yourself off a cliff and not think twice about it. especially when it came to your peers.

of course, you knew probably more than anyone else that dressing the way you dressed would always get you the number-one topic in gossip for maybe a month or two in a new school. people really seemed to love discussing and nit-picking at your band shirts and baggy jeans, your fishnets, your darkly-painted waterline and eyes and the black dye streaked through with pink of your hair, your layered necklaces, pierced ears and face... basically your whole existence. it was something you'd experienced every time you moved. but here, it was so much worse.

before, it was snarky remarks in shabby hallways on your way to class or in the gym while you warmed up with a few of your friends. now, it was direct bullying. it was back-handed compliments from the same girls every guy swooned over, or just verbal attacks. no filter, nothing. undeviating retorts made to push you to the edge. and it was working.

still, you did not dare do anything about it. you refused to let yourself even think about petty revenge or stupid karma. fighting your way through high-school would not get you into princeton or yale, and while you were smart, a history of hallway-brawls would only deter that. it was why you kept low, why you still tried even though giving up seemed like a much more tempting alternative.

and it was why you would give your all to the end-of-the-term test in english.

"y/n, dear." mrs. schulzter stepped in front of the door you were just about to walk through after your other classmates, blocking your way. you nearly groaned, already knowing what she was making you stay behind for. "about the exam— is monday a good day for you to take it?"

everyone in your ELA class was already done with it. your teacher had offered a week of going over it in class so that you'd be at least a bit ready. but no one can truly come to understand logical fallacies, rhetorical appeals, the elements of literature, and literary analysis in 4 classes. you were by no means ready. to say that to your english teacher would be an embarrassment, though.

"yes, of course!" you chirped in reply, studying the way her slick-back bun glistened in the light with too much hairgel. it wasn't that you hated her, no. in fact, she was your favorite teacher. almost all of your other professors gave you two days to study and offered sorry excuses for notes before you had to take their tests, so of course you were grateful. she also taught your favorite subject. you just hated the school she taught at.

you watched her steadily smile, then turning to her desk and rummaging through the contents of an already-open drawer. as if she had prepared for this exact conversation. you shifted on your feet, anxious, and nearly visibly gawked at the binder she emerged with. it was the width of perhaps two thumbs, so wide you briefly wondered if you'd even be able to push through it in a day. when she circled back to you, she almost seemed to read your face for the horror on it.

"it's not as bad as it looks. i promise." the weight of the binder when mrs. schulzter dumped it into your arms said otherwise. you almost doubled over against the effort.

"right," you rasped, suddenly uncomfortable. she pursed her lips, looking at you a moment, and then turning back to her desk and seating herself in the chair.

"i also recommend asking around for notes you can study off of. i'm sure there are many who are willing to help," she spoke as she grabbed some papers and began scrawling things you couldn't see from where you stood, wincing to remember the snarky remarks and comments you'd probably have to face again if you seriously wanted said notes.... but.

suddenly cheery, you perked up, grinning happily. "sure! thanks, mrs. schulzter." and you were out the door, leaving a busy english teacher in your wake.

---

through the hubbub of loitering people and intertwined voices, was sam monroe. it was stupid, honestly, the crush you'd acquired on him just by staring at the back of his head in ELA or watching him in your periphery during PE. 7 days, and you were smitten.

it wasn't just the fact that he had a similar style to your own, or the fact that he never bothered you. he was handsome. genuinely good-looking. of course, the way sam dressed was partly the reason you were so drawn to him—you hadn't seen many guys like him before—but his face was also set so perfectly, so symmetrically. how he didn't already have a girlfriend—don't ask how you knew that—you would never know.

the fact that you liked him was not the only reason you were seeking him out to ask for his english notes, though, but because you had no one else to go to. not really. everyone in your english class you didn't know too well or didn't want to know at all. you figured sam had gone through the same shit you had been through in the past week with the same people who had been bothering you, so you just assumed he'd be different.

gathering your thoughts, you slipped into that unbothered version of yourself you didn't quite know and gripped the binder, finally trekking the remaining distance between your two figures. up close... sam shut his locker, turning to walk the other way and making direct eye-contact with you.

"hi," you near-squeaked, squirming beneath his vision. "i was just wondering if you had the engli—"

and then, he pushed past you.

it was that quick. sam was there, and then he wasn't, easing away from you and into the crowd of students as if you were mere air particles before him. you gawked, mouth agape, throat constricting, eyes widening, frozen.

---

in math—your least favorite subject save for science—you had time to think. think about your interaction with sam—or lack thereof. think yourself into delusion. you dumbed it down to the possibility that he was just really really eager to get to his next class, or that he was having a bad day, or that—

then came lunch, which always racked your nerves. it wasn't just because of the embarrassment that you had to sit at the end of the table of the calculus club or that the food was shit, it was just the feeling of being so congested, stuck in a room full of students you had only known for a week and very little actually kind people. it was suffocating. but today...

earlier, you had been considering actually going up to brooke daliah and asking for her notes instead. you were desperate at that point. but then she had asked if you wanted to sit at her lunch table during passing period, and it seemed genuine, until her many friends had laughed into their hands or giggled openly. it was getting to be a joke, how much they cared.

it didn't really matter, though, because you wouldn't be sitting at their table anyways. hadn't even considered it. instead, you made a beeline towards the tables in the back.

sam was sitting with one of the few people you'd ever seen him around. liam. his friend, most likely. he dressed sort of similar to him, acted almost the same from what you gathered, save for the fact that he was significantly bolder. they were laughing together, and you almost paused in your tracks to savor that smile on sam's face. the same smile that dropped almost instantly when you stepped closer, letting him know you weren't staying by standing at the edge of the table.

"hi," you spoke, your voice much more confident than how you truly felt. liam straightened, looking between you two, though you kept your eyes on sam, who stared up at you with an expression that suggested he was surprised.

"yea?" he asked, his head cocking ever so slightly to the left. you gripped the tray so hard you were worried it'd break, rings occasionally clacking against the plastic.

"i was gonna ask in the morning if you have the notes for the english test i was supposed to take a week ago. i need to borrow some—"

"i don't." your cold and stark demeanor instantly dropped for a second, mouth opening and closing like a fish searching for air, except, you were searching for a reply. "threw them out a while ago." he shifted, seemingly... nervous.

"oh—.."

"can't ask anyone else?" liam cut in, and then laughed. laughed. your hands flexed against the tray as your eyes strayed from him to sam. "too shy or something?"

"excuse m—?"

"he's not gonna help you just because you wear fishnets and band shirts, darling. you know how weird that sounds? ask someone else if you're not the little weakling they say you are."

red. red clouded your vision. you almost forgot to gather any semblance of maturity to respond. that nickname, the way he spoke to you. like you were crazy for even considering it. you looked to sam, like maybe he'd help you out, but you were stupid for thinking that, too. because he just blinked... catching your eye again, something faltered in his own.

you could've just left there. but you were petty. so, you straightened further with the last of your dignity and bit back at liam. "y'know what? the only action you get is your own hand, and i've been able to gather that in 7 days, so i wouldn't be talking much if i were you. either way, to call me weak when you look like you'd pass out if you did get any action is just comical, liam. so really, stick to the drama kid regime." you had no idea what possessed you to say that by the time you were out the lunch doors and far from any english notes or stupidly handsome faces.

---

now, gathering your things from your locker shortly after school had ended, you had not just one math class, bored out of your mind to think, but a whole weekend. though, it didn't take 2 days alone to decide you hated sam monroe and his minion and you would for the rest of your life.

it might've been stupid, sure. you could see why getting so riled up over english notes would be dumb, but you truly liked him, truly thought him to be different. not only were you surprised when he didn't care much for you, but you got... angry. did he not understand? were you the weird girl they deemed you to be?

even though you hated your new school, you couldn't hate your mom for hauling you to california if it was because she wanted to be nearer to your grandparents after your father's death. you honestly believed her when she promised you'd actually be staying this time, too. but a part of you wanted to hate her. it was selfish and petty, you knew that. but in some strange way, it could make sense why.

shutting your locker door closed, you made to turn around and walk out of the school, eager for the coming weekend, but instead, you collided with a chest. you were already halfway through an absentminded apology when you realized who you had bumped into. sam stood in front of you, shifting on his feet. though you were quite tall for the average girl—5'8—he still managed to tower over you. your lips twisted into a scowl, eyes involuntarily rolling.

"oh. it's you. are you here to tell me i'm weak again? cause that's saying a lot if i could use you and your little minion as a pair of fucking skis," you bit out, staring daggers directly at him. for some reason—one you didn't want to think too much of—the look of pain on his face that faltered after one second made you want to take the words back, even though they had been building up in your throat since lunch. he tilted his head to the side, eyes falling to what he held in his extended hand. your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, but you realized before he could even explain exactly what he was holding.

"i'm guessing that means you don't want the english notes?" you basically choked on air, your lips parted in shock, eyes blowing wide. heat clouded your face, so blaring and distracting you barely even remembered who you were in that moment, for you had just disrespected him when he was willing to help you with something you genuinely needed. something inside you shriveled up and died, and you guessed it was that newfound confidence that came with hatred. how you had managed to embarrass yourself three times in front of him in the span of one school day, you'd never understand.

"oh— uh—" you cleared your throat, straightening. "i didn't—"

"it's fine," he shrugged with one shoulder, shifting on his feet yet again. carefully, slowly, you grabbed the binder from his hands, your own shaking, and opened it up to make sure this wasn't some prank. he was being genuine, it seemed.

"you— you said you didn't have these." you met his eyes again, shutting the notes and tucking it under one arm. sam shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away. he seemed almost... nervous. the thought made you crumble in on yourself.

"yea, uhm— liam can be a bitch sometimes." he licked his lips free of dryness, and you hated yourself for studying that small movement, how your cheeks no doubt grew even redder than they already were. your knees were weak with loitering embarrassment.

"i've gathered," was your only response, your eyes straying away for a moment. he looked back at you once again.

"i just didn't want him thinking—"

you nodded, showing him he didn't have to continue what he was saying. it was quiet a moment, and so awkward you wanted nothing more than to disappear from his sight.

"uh— sorry about him, by the way," sam finally gave into the quiet, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. it was so strange, how nice he was being when he had just ignored you in the morning. the remembrance of that moment by his locker made you briefly consider asking him about it, but you only muttered a quick, "it's ok."

"uhm, thanks for these," you spoke a moment later, the only thing you could think to say that would cover up the silence. you held up the notes again and sam nodded. "i'll give these back on monday, when i have the test." you dropped them again, and he backed away.

"alright. good luck, it's harder than it looks." and he was gone.

---

the whole weekend was spent studying, studying some more, and then studying even more. sam's notes were a big help, as were the material mrs. schulzter gave you, which you barely even managed to push through. occasionally, little doodles or quotes would appear throughout his many pages of english work, all funny enough to draw a smile or a laugh out of you despite yourself.

your interaction with sam refused to leave your mind, no matter how much you burrowed yourself in words and books and more words. it was probably the most awkward moment of your life. you had quite literally dissed him and he had just handed you what would help you pass this test anyways. to say you felt bad was an understatement.

but as you stepped into the english classroom during free period on monday to finally take the test, almost every thought other than what you had studied so thoroughly left your mind.

sam wasn't lying. the test was horrible. it took almost all of the 1 hour you had to complete it, and even after turning it in, a sour taste was left in your mouth, accompanied by doubts and worries that you had failed.

the only advantage you had on your side was the fact that you had so fervently went over the material. other than that, you were on your own. upon stepping out of the classroom, nerves still racking your body, you made a plan to hand sam his notes back during passing period.

and so, as soon as the bell rang, announcing the last class of the day, you were beelining towards his locker. he never came. you waited only a few minutes, until you were almost certain you'd be late to PE if you waited any longer. at least there, you'd be able to see if sam came to school at all.

apparently, he hadn't. sitting atop the bleachers, you only managed to catch sight of liam, who's presence repulsed you beyond compare. when ms. cotter announced the third day of the volleyball unit, you sat especially close to him so she'd pair you two together. your plan worked, because soon enough, you were on one side of the net, standing beside him and a few other people you barely even knew.

"liam," you hissed, keeping your eyes on the ball that flew between the two teams. your ponytail swung as it bounced to you, quickly setting it over the net again. you didn't spare even a glance towards the boy beside you.

"what?" he panted, pivoting even when he didn't need to.

"where's sam?" you asked, watching the middle left beside you attempt to spike and only get blocked by the person across from you. you quickly bumped it back.

"why do you care," liam sneered, and upon looking quickly to him to see if he'd set the ball flying right at him, you realized he was staring intently in your direction. you smiled cruelly at him when it hit him directly in the forehead, making him stumble back.

"i need to give him back his english notes." his scowl was one of fury. you grabbed the ball that had rolled to your feet and passed it over to the other team so they could serve.

"he's watching over his brother. sick or somethin'," liam replied, rubbing at the red spot on his head. you hummed, getting back into position and bending your knees.

the game went on. eventually, your team lost, and you took the break that commenced as an opportunity to ask more about sam. you swiped up your water bottle from beside your backpack on the benches, seeking out liam once again and ambling over to him. he was seated on the floor, sipping from his own water.

"what's his address?" you demanded, stopping before him and leaning your weight onto one leg. liam's brown eyes narrowed when he glanced up at you, hands flexing against the plastic in his hands.

"whose, sam's?"

"no, the gym teacher's. yes, sam's." despite yourself, you slumped into a sit a good distance from him, your temple resting against the wall. he scowled, studying you for a moment and looking away.

"you're weird as hell, y'know that?" was his lame response. you huffed a humorless laugh, shaking your head and staring out at the playing teams.

"can't call me weird when you've been called weird yourself."

liam hummed an agreement, shrugging his shoulders. "okay, but why should i tell you, anyways?"

"because he needs his notes?" you scoffed.

"no, why should i tell you after what you said to me?" liam rolled his eyes, looking away. your heart stuttered in your chest. he had a point. what you had said to him at that lunch table... you shook your head.

"i won't regret what i said until you regret what you said."

finally, you felt his eyes bore into the side of your face, and you resisted the urge to squirm. silence rushed over the two of you, and when liam grunted and struggled to a stand, you briefly let defeat draw you into its arms.

but then, before he could make a move to walk away, he uttered sam's house number and street, and quickly shuffled to the other side of the room, getting ready for the next rotation. you lifted your head from where it rested on the wall, humming a surprise. after you had quite literally told him no one would ever love him enough to have sex with him, you doubted he would tell you, and then was left to wonder why he did. you knew you wouldn't if he came up to you and asked you where you're friend lived. but now, you had sam's address, and already, it was engraved into your mind.

---

"hi! is sam home?"

for this occasion, you had taken out your bridge, snake and eyebrow piercings, leaving only your earrings in, slicked your hair back into a ponytail, and dressed in a white, floral sundress you had found at the back of your older sister's closet. you had also gotten rid of the black eyeliner and the heavy glam, opting for simple mascara, blush, and concealer. it was so... unlike you. you knew his parents wouldn't be home, but you would feel out of place in his beautiful house if you had kept to your usual style. in your hands, you gripped his binder, anxiously toying with the feel.

the little boy in front of you—who you assumed was his brother—looked strangely at you. he didn't even utter a hello back, keeping his eyes on yours as he called out into the house.

"sam!" something inside you cringed as you pushed your wispy bangs out of your eyes and quickly straightened your back. "your girlfriend's here!"

the smile you were fighting to keep on your face instantly dropped. "oh— no— that's not— we're—"

"sam!!" the little boy yelled louder, making you shrivel in on yourself. you considered turning on your heel and bolting down the street, and you were so close to doing so, when footsteps sounded above his head, and sam appeared at the top of the stairs over his brother's shoulder. your face ignited with burning, hot red heat, eyes still wide with horror.

the boy cocked his head, squinting his eyes. he sniffled, the sound wet with sickness. "my mom says no girls are allowed in the house because the last time sam had one over, they made a ba—"

"okay, ryan." suddenly, sam was at his side, pushing him from the door and further from where you stood, choking on air at his words. "that's enough. go play with your trucks." happily, his brother—ryan—turned and ran down the hall, nearly tripping and falling.

"sorry— about him," sam rasped, grabbing the edge of the door and opening it wider. his dyed, blue-black hair glinted in the light. "that— that was a while ago..." you searched for breath as you nodded, eyes still blown wide.

"no— that's fine—" was what came out of your throat, even though you felt like throwing up your lunch then and there. he stared at you, taking you in as you recovered, racking your brain. you barely even registered the look in his eyes as they ran over your body, the sound of him clearing his throat being what pulled you from your embarrassment.

"uhm— come in." sam motioned for you to step inside, which you quickly shook your head at, eyes closing for a moment as you felt the heat slowly die from your cheeks.

"i'm— actually just here to—" you extended the hand holding his notes out, which his eyes automatically fell to, feet shifting below him. "—deliver this."

sam bit the inside of his lip, hesitantly reaching out to grab it from your hands. without something to squeeze on, your fingers shook as you rested your arms by your side again.

"oh, okay. thanks." silence. again. god, could this get any more awkward? pursing your lips, you nodded once, slowly backing away.

"yea, sure. i'll see ya around—"

"wait— how— how did you do on the test?" your feet paused below you, mind yelling at you to run away despite his attempts to keep you there. wait— he was attempting to keep you there? why else would he just randomly ask about your stupid english exam? he certainly didn't care what you got, right?

"uh— i don't know yet. mrs. schulzter said i'd get my grade back on wednesday, so i won't know until then." you pivoted back to fully face him once again, eyes on a stray rock at your feet.

"how do you... think— you did?" sam asked anyways, eyes assessing your closed body language. why was this so embarrassing?

"well... it was pretty hard— so maybe an A- or something." your shoulder lifted in a shrug, eyes finally meeting his despite yourself. "what— what did you get?"

"a B+," sam looked away, face scrunching in what you could only guess was embarrassment. you were briefly surprised, which made your heart sink in guilt.

"cool."

silence. your shoulders were hunched over, closing in on your chest. if he didn't realize you were getting increasingly uncomfortable, you didn't know what would.

"you uhm— look good today." sam shrugged, eyes only shortly meeting yours before straying away, and you were briefly grateful they had, because your face ignited once again in a flurry of heat and redness. "i've never really seen you without—"

"thank you— i just decided— y'know..."

"yea.."

more quiet.

"are you sure you don't wanna come in?" he finally asked, eyes meeting your down-turned face, still blooming with blush. "i just got the new limp bizkit ablum..."

how—? your eyes widened in surprise, head jerking up to meet his gaze, which was staring intently at you.

"how did you know i like limp bizkit?"

you watched his face contort into that of embarrassment and surprise, nose scrunching slightly. your heart squeezed in your chest. "i— uh— saw you with their shirt a couple days ago..."

you really, really didn't want to feed into your delusions— but now, he was giving you a reason to do so! he had remembered a band tee you had worn last thursday— there was absolutely no way he didn't feel.. nothing.

"oh— okay, then." quickly, sam stepped out of the way, allowing you into his house. upon stepping inside, you banished every invading thought from your mind and focused on the beauty of the area. it truly was really pretty. down the hall, you could vaguely hear ryan laughing and chatting with no one but himself. you were... you were in sam monroe's house. it was so.. strange. you felt out of place despite having altered almost everything about your usual style. like you just weren't made for extravagant buildings.

you turned back to sam, but he was already motioning for you to follow him up the steps. you quickly did, taking in every minor detail you knew you didn't need to. he led you through slim corridors, finally stopping at a door that was quite jacked up, dents all over it, handle slightly bent. sam pushed it open, allowing you inside. it was...

you gawked, eyes blowing wide even though his room was just as you imagined it to be. band posters varying from slipknot to papa roach to my chemical romance pasted on the walls, dark bedsheets, clothes strung across the floor that he aimlessly kicked at as you scanned the scenery. now, you were in sam monroe's room. that didn't even register, though, every ounce of trepidation or awkwardness leaving your body.

"woah— i like your room!" you grinned, shutting the door behind you. you barely even noticed his eyes, lit up upon seeing your awe.

"thanks," he spoke back, his face remaining neutral as he shuffled his feet. you ambled to his desk, which held records and vinyls and CDs you could barely even sift through. there was a CD left open on a folder in the center, and upon closing it, you realized it was said limp bizkit album. you gasped, scanning the tracks and the cover, flipping it over in your hands at least 5 times.

"i didn't think you—" you turned to him, holding it up, eyes still wide. almost immediately, a smile bloomed on his lips, and you forgot all about the band or the album or anything about music at all. he even laughed. laughed.

"you thought i was lying so i could get you to come in?" sam huffed, eyes crinkling with the coming of that grin. you smiled yourself, because it was so.. contagious. surprising.

"no— i just—" sam shook his head, piercings glinting in the light. "i—" you choked out, laughing as well. "i didn't mean it like that— i promise—"

"hope so." suddenly, he was walking up to you, then walking past you, flipping open his radio and motioning for you to put the CD in with that stupid grin still loitering on his lips.

you struggled to move your legs, somehow having been glued in place, but managed to trek the short distance and push it into the spinner. he shut the top and clicked the on button, and music blasted into the room. you hummed, sitting on his bed and closing your eyes as you listened in.

it was good. though... you expected no less from limp bizkit because... well, they were limp bizkit. everything they made you absolutely adored, and although you never felt any calling towards playing in bands or anything, they often made you seriously consider it. you imagined sam had already listened to it, even though your eyes were closed. at some point, you felt the mattress sink beside you, his knee slightly bumping against yours. it all felt like a fever dream, listening to one of your favorite band's newest album you had been searching relentlessly for with the guy you had liked for only 7 days... well, now 9.

occasionally, your head would bob to the beat, your brows furrowing in concentration. one song bled into another, and on what you guessed was the 4th song, sam's voice rang through the music.

"i don't think it's their best work—"

"what!" your eyes flew open, immediately meeting his. he pursed his lips, shrugging.

"i mean— c'mon. this one just doesn't compare to results may vary. the songs on there are too good.."

"are we listening to the same album— or?.." he huffed a laugh, looking at his lap. "results may vary was good— but this shit is gonna change history!"

"results may vary already did—" sam countered, narrowing his eyes at you. you threw your arms out at your sides, giving him an incredulous look.

"this is fucking gold. gold cobra. gold. how do you not—" sam cocked his head, another smile enveloping his lips. "i mean— if you're not gonna appreciate all that limp bizkit quite obviously put into this album— then what's the point! they seriously did not disappoint, and as soon as i get the vinyl version, i will use it and i will never stop using it and listening to this so every time you come over— you'll learn to be grateful—"

"you're a nerd." he laughed, shaking his head. you paused in your words, brows knitting together as your eyes finally met his once again.

"i am not—"

"i've never seen anyone get so defensive over an album. you're a nerd." sam laughed again. and laughed. and laughed. you scrunched your nose in anger, shoving his arm and sending him a look.

"limp bizkit isn't a joke!" you countered. he only continued his laughing, and you couldn't help but smile, because god.. he was so pretty when he laughed. "i don't see what's funny."

"you're smiling too," he argued, cocking his head. you attempted at twisting your lips into a scowl, but your poker face was shit, and you ended up grinning even further.

"it— i..." you tried. failed. sam huffed a laugh, studying your face. somehow, he had leaned in so close you could make out light freckles dotting his cheeks. now seemed like the worst of times to ask, but you were growing bold, and your tongue moved according to its own agenda.

"why did you ignore me that morning?"

immediately, the mood in the room changed. sam sucked in a breath. you heard it, saw the way he gulped down air, his adam's apple bobbing. it made you swallow, too. something passed in his eyes, a look of uncomfortableness. when he looked away, staying quiet, you were sure you fucked up. certain. he wasn't gonna answer, and you would make yet another fool of yourself around him. embarrassment. it clouded your chest, weighed down your legs and your arms, killed what was left of your dignity as you watched him play with the rings on his fingers. you ruined it. you ruined the moment. the moment you had been dreaming about.

"oh my god— i'm so—"

"don't apologize. i'm sorry." hope gave your heart wings and ripped them off once he left you wondering exactly why. "i guess i was just.. nervous. and— i saw you— and i didn't know what to do, so i just.. left. i didn't want to embarrass myself or anything in case i did something stupid— or said something stupid. i didn't want to hurt you. i didn't mean it."

your eyes grew wide, a breath stuttering in your chest. "nervous?"

finally, he looked at you. finally, you asked.

"why— why were you—"

you were cut off before you could finish that sentence, his lips on yours so fast that you barely had time to register what was happening. this— your first kiss. it was so stupid. your first kiss ever. you had no idea what to do, or why he was doing it. alone in your room, late at night, you had fantasized about something like this happening, and now? you didn't know how to move your lips, or where to put your hands. you almost forgot to close your eyes, only remembering when his own fluttered shut. fluttered. your heart was throbbing in your chest. you could hear it in your ears, in the silence that commenced. could he hear it too? it lasted 3 seconds. you counted. after those 3 seconds ended, he pulled away until your noses just barely grazed each other. and stared.

you were freaking out. you were freaking out. one kiss, and you felt everything inside of you light on fire, warning you to get the fuck out of there. but you wanted more. sam stared, his breath fanning across your own. there was something so... so... you couldn't find the right word. the music in the background was barely even there anymore.

"y/n—"

and then you were up and bolting out the door.

---

sam was standing at his locker.

it was passing period. right after free block. you were suddenly back on that friday afternoon, gathering yourself to go ask him for stupid english notes, so nervous you were practically forcing air down your throat.

you had been ignoring him.

it wasn't because the kiss was bad. no. it was so great. it was better than you had ever imagined. you didn't even know why you left and completely avoided him up until 2 days later, now wednesday, but you had. perhaps it was because you feared he had somehow guessed at your inexperience. if you could tell he was definitely experienced himself, then who was to say he couldn't tell you weren't? it embarrassed you.

you were also terrified it'd leave to sex. you were too young. you had decided against it a while ago. it honestly scared you, losing your virginity to someone with the possibility of losing them. you knew... something in you knew, that if you said anything against it in that moment, he'd stop. but it still worried you.

since you had started avoiding him, he had tried coming up to you in class, after class, before class, on your way home, at your home... he even tried to stop you from leaving that fateful day in his room, but you had been doing a good job of ridding him from your life.

but, in those two days you had to think, you decided you did want him in your life. he would be the one who you'd lose your virginity to, if it came down to it. he'd be the one you'd call your first boyfriend.

steadying your breath, you walked up to sam. he was rummaging through his locker. you tapped on his shoulder.

when he turned around and met your eyes, his own lighting with what you knew was hope, everything you planned to say scattered and exited your mind like there was a fire exploding in your skull. maybe there was. quiet. he studied you, brows furrowed in confusion, face lit with happiness, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain why you had come up to him. so instead, you shoved the paper you were holding like a lifeline into his chest, his hands coming to quickly grab it, and turned on your heel, walking the other way.

sam contemplated going after you, but the page you had forced into his grip called to him. seeing you ignited hope he had since rid himself of. hope that you had decided to stop ignoring him. maybe— he wouldn't get excited over something that would probably not happen considering how fast you fled just now. so, he pulled the paper from his chest, eyes leaving your retreating figure and landing on the contents.

your english test. a 100%. an A+. written below the grade, in handwriting that fit your personality so well, were words that made that hope reignite. made him believe there was something. made him smile. 'i guess your english notes were worth the hassle i went through to get'.

i hope you like the plot i added to it cause idk how i feel abt it 😭

#sam monroe #life as a house #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #hayden christensen #hayden #fanfic #star wars #star wars anakin #fandom #awake 2007

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