#he probably did the music since he could play guitar so he had an ear for that!

[britishchick09]

here’s an obscure senpai fact that i forgot about until just now- senpai made a music box for addie! :’)

[notroosterbradshaw]

The Boyfriend Experience - Part 2 /2

7k words of Rooster being your super wonderful, pretend plus one! A few swears, but it’s the Navy, goddammit! The fluffiness should make up for it. 

The Boyfriend Experience 1 / 2

“Thank God you didn’t catch the bouquet,” Rooster rolled his eyes as you wandered back, bored. "Could you look any less interested?" he bit back a smile.

“I could, yes," you told him, patting his cheek with a gentle thwack as he chuckled.

”Well, you made sure I didn't have a run there to fake propose in front of all these witnesses. Left my fake engagement ring in my dresser drawer back at base,” he snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"You'd have really ruined this wedding if you proposed. Even you must know the lack of decorum of proposing at someone else's wedding. You probably wouldn't need to go to those extremes," you laughed quietly.

He nodded and grinned. "I'd guarantee you a life of no more wedding BS though."

"You're probably right. How long you been sitting on that?”

"Just came to me," he admitted. "But you can't tell me it's not an amazing idea to get everyone off your ass."

"Thank you for not going to those lengths," you said as his head fell back and he kept giggling. Yes, Rooster was a giggler after a few drinks. And it was adorable.

Looking back at you, he said, "I guess we're almost done though. Since I have this," Rooster grinned widely, flinging the bride’s baby blue garter at your face. You flicked it right back and he caught it easily. He'd mortified you that he'd made such a spectacle to get his mitts on it earlier in the evening - he literally speared a dude to get to the front and leapt over the Best Man to catch it. "My Little League coach would be so proud today."

"You're the worst," you reached for his whiskey as he looked on proudly.

"You disappointed us as a couple and missed the bouquet to boot but I forgive you because you've graduated to a very sexy drink. That's my girl," he raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently for your sip, which you did gladly.

"You're such a dick," you could only respond, handing the glass back as he chuckled, putting the garter back in his breast pocket, patting it safely.

"Taken you 30 years to figure it out - that's more on you than me though," he teased.

"Last song of the night, friends," the MC of the band announced as Rooster offered you his hand. "Your bride and groom are ready to kick into matrimonial bliss part of the night and we all have to head home at some point!"

"You're not getting out of this. It's our last dance as fake lovers," he said, giving you the creepiest bedroom eyes, or you supposed, that you’d ever seen. How had he managed to bed so many women if that was his game, you'd never know (you assumed it was probably a lot less effort than batting his lashes, to be completely honest), and you shook your head with a smile. He stood to his full height and offered you his calloused palm. You naturally accepted, lacing your fingers through his. You loved the warmth his hands gave yours.

"Can you never say 'lovers' again?" you asked, spirited, as he spun you under his arm, leading you to the dancefloor, laughing loudly.

"Never," he promised as the song began. The band started Elvis' "I'm All Shook Up", most people in the room made their way to the dancefloor and Rooster praised the gods. You liked the song but loved the joy it clearly stirred in Rooster more. You adored how much he loved music, though he admitted he was never taught piano, guitar, or even drums but was pretty good at each of them, or he liked to think so. He played by ear and enjoyed experimenting with sounds. You'd romanticised Rooster playing at home in the quiet, just for himself, tinkering with keys, strumming strings. It made you kind of weak to think of him creatively like that. He was certainly full of surprises and you were yearning to know more.

He was unlike anyone you knew - you'd learned so much tonight and appreciated the human he was more than just the talented pilot most assumed of him, you thought maybe he appreciated people thought he was fairly one-dimensional, he liked his space and privacy. "New one to learn for the bar?" you offered as he pondered the question.

"Shit, maybe," he contemplated with a nod and he pulled you close. While not an incredibly slow song, Rooster actually moved quite well. Yet another thing you had learned about him tonight and he pulled your back to his chest, keeping you pressed to him, his hands spreading across your belly, keeping a respectful amount of space between your bodies. He took your hand and spun you back to him, facing the other again and he smiled slow, a smile you'd certainly never seen before but enjoyed thoroughly as his hands moved to the back of your ribs, dragging you closer to him.

He loosened a hand and put your arms around his neck, the height difference between you bringing your body crushed against him and it felt kind of... perfect.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, just between the two of you. He smiled faintly, his hands caressing your back. Once he'd found access to skin, his hand kept a close touch all night and your back felt cold without it.

"It's really me that should be thanking you," he admitted, lips dangerously close to your ear and you'd deny it, but it shook you to the core. Looking at him, your feet stopped moving and the world may have stopped too. Here he was, right in front of you, just like he always had been... but he was completely new to you now. "I haven't had a night like this in a really long time," he continued earnestly. "Almost felt like a real date."

You had lost the ability to talk, because thinking about it later, you'd realise, this was the first of many nights like this. But it wouldn't pretend anymore. He would be yours, and you would be his right back. And the pretence would be gone; traded for romance that didn't need to be held back, touches on skin that meant something because it was their skin you'd touched so many times before, still able to draw the same spark as it had tonight.

Rooster's lips met your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss against your skin and you held him just a little bit tighter. "I got you, kid," he told you softly but wasn't quite sure why he added, "You're safe with me."

And you may have believed him.

"Do you two want a lift?" Annie asked as the festivities started to come to a close. The bride and groom had left, guests were starting to organise themselves to do the same, the band was packing up and the music was over for the generic 'get the fuck out of our venue now' muzak. After your last duties for the evening to help Sarah's parents collect the gifts and load their car, you went back to the table to collect your belongings, thankful it was all finally over... as well as the evening.

It was a long day, and saying you were exhausted, physically, mentally... emotionally, was an understatement. Things were a bit muddled to you now and you were feeling a little unhinged at the growing flutters in your tummy while so close to Rooster. He was currently holding your bouquet and your clutch like it was absolutely no big thing.

"Rooster, I don't think you should drive. I can get you both back. I'm the designated driver for another three weeks and one day," she looked at her belly, accusingly. "Unless you'd like to come sooner, please?"

"Shit," he muttered. He had probably had one or two drinks too many, he realised. Palming his keys in his pants pocket, he replied he would just walk back to base. Wasn't at all far, he had his credentials. Fresh air would sober him up anyway.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Thank you though. I'm sure your little sister will get me back safely," he joked entirely for Annie's benefit. But your feet, your poor feet were shredded. You gave yourself kudos, you'd done the right thing and kept your heels on the duration of the day, but all you could imagine was peeling them off and preparing for the onslaught of blisters and discomfort as soon as humanly possible.

"Okay," she grinned. "Take care, Rooster," she hugged him and he hugged her back, trying to avoid her baby bump politely. "So good to see you."

"You too, Annie," he replied fondly. "I had a great night."

"Don't be a stranger when you're in town. Let's do this again soon. Come over for dinner, bring her," she nodded to you.

"I might," Rooster gave her a shy smile and Annie hugged him again. "I'm thinking of moving back so you may be seeing a bit more of me anyway," he said and your ears pricked up, this was brand new information and your palms may have clammed up a little.

"You should, everyone would be so happy you're home," she told him.

"Definitely thinking about it," he promised.

"Good, Please get my sister home safely?" she warned him.

"Of course, she's precious cargo," he smiled as Annie kissed you and waddled over to Arron, her extremely drunk hubby.

"I could have gone with that lift," you told him as you watched them leave. Your poor feet.

"Nah, you're okay," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

"Rooster," you protested. "I might cry."

Rooster pouted. "Then I'll piggyback you," he broke into a smile as a few of the single bridesmaids said goodnight to you both. "Come with me. Got an idea," he urged, nodding towards the door, not waiting for you and taking off in his strides in that direction. Moving as quick and gracefully as the heels would allow, you caught him at the door where he took your hand and you followed him to the beach. It was pitch black minus the moon's reflection on the water, nearing midnight when he stopped at the edge of the grass to sand and watched him unbutton his jacket to sit. You did the same. "Feet, please?" he asked quietly.

Confused, you weren't sure why you offered him your left foot, but his fingers made haste unbuckling the silver heel you had been wearing for hours and hours.

"Gentle," he told himself as he pulled the off, and held his palm out for your other foot that you gratefully offered, the relief almost instantaneous. Putting your heels together, he lightly pressed into the arches of your feet, your ankles, your calves, the pain worth it for a few moments, looking at you with a gentle frown to make sure he wasn't hurting you, but it was definitely worth it. "Okay?" you nodded as he slipped off his jacket and left it in a pile with your shoes, purse and bouquet. He unlaced his loafers, took his socks with them and cuffed his slacks up to his lower calf although there was little give to them. "Shit," he muttered, pulling at the wrong piece of his bowtie and knotting it tighter.

"Here, Roost," you said softly, sitting up to kneel, he watched you in keen interest as your fingers worked to loosen the tie. Knowing he'd made it worse before it unravelled under your touch, you smiled as he happily unbuttoned the first few holes on his shirt, showing a little of his strong, golden chest and a light smattering of dark hair.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Up," he got up slowly, finding the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and rolling both to his muscular forearms. He smiled, offering his hand. He pulled you up, your sore feet sending you careening into him softly. He nodded towards the water and followed you through the sand.

The night was cool, but in the height of summer, not unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. Stopping right before the waves, you looked back at him.

"I promise you, those feet will feel a million bucks in about 15 seconds," and he hitched you into his arms, taking you out to his knees, lowering you amid squeals of cold and a now damp skirt around your thighs. He didn't give you space, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your belly, chin on your hair. You felt him sigh behind you.

"Dammit, Rooster," you cursed him although grinning in the madness, trying not to shiver as the waves splashed around you. It was a little chillier in the water than you would have liked, but Rooster was close and he was almost radiator hot. "It's f-f-freezing," you chattered.

"It's the ocean at midnight," he said in your ear. "What were you expecting?" he posed a good question. "But your feet don't hurt now, do they?"

"Actually, I can't feel them... because they're numb," you replied, your toes thumbing in the sand beneath you, it grounded you and felt so familiar. You loved it, craved it. The grains felt good and if you squinted, you could almost avoid the slight needling of your feet as they started to relax and unwind.

"You're the water," he murmured to you quietly, his voice lower than the ocean's bustle around you. "I know I'm the clouds. But you're the ocean. You need it. I've always known that about you. I see you some mornings down here, in the waves if I run late. I never see a crease or concern on your features, you're just one with the water. It's pretty sexy, actually."

You wished he'd stop talking because as he adjusted his hold on you, leaving one hand on your hip, the other arm wrapping around your shoulders, you only reaffirmed how good you fit against him. "I love that," you admitted, taking his hand and he sighed again. He was right, though cold, this was your happy place. This is where you desired to be, in the water and the freedom and terror that came with it, how it could make you teeter so easily and push you out of your comfort zone. And he knew all about it.

Above you, Rooster smiled to himself. He was starting to really enjoy holding you close, learning the curves of your body, how you could find the perfect place to find calm in his arms. "Hey?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a really good time tonight. It... didn't feel forced or contrived. Why haven't you and I done this before?"

Because we didn't see each other this way before Natasha threw us together, you wanted to say. We can laugh, we can play and have fun, team against anyone and not think anything of it... but tonight has categorically changed our friendship because I can't go back to just being your friend, Rooster. I think it would be easier to lose you than find out you didn't want to be with me this way again.

You stayed silent, you had just tortured yourself with your inner monologue as it was. "You are absolutely shaking," Rooster said, softly, maybe now regretting his idea and his fat fucking mouth just a little. "I think it's time to get you out of the water."

"I'm okay," you lied as he rubbed your arms where he could see the goose pimples rise. He couldn't stop the shuddering even in his stranglehold.

"Out you get, kid."

You nodded thankfully. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was not enough to keep you warm and only caused you to tremble more. "Sorry," you said as he released you from his clutches and moved before he could say anything else.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Rooster sighed, watching you make your way to the beach. He knew he'd scared you. You knew he was opening his heart to you, and just like Natasha joked about your commitment fear, maybe it wasn't too far off the mark and that made him sad for all that you had missed and what you could miss out on. He began to follow you as you sat back near all the gear you'd removed, closing in on yourself. Rooster ran the last little while up the beach and retrieved his jacket, putting it over your shoulders. "You okay, kid? You're blue."

"Can't stop shaking," you could only reply and he swore he heard your teeth chatter. "But I'm okay."

"Come on, let's get you home," he tossed all the gear except the flowers into his jacket and tucked it under his arm then offered you his hand to help you up. He used a little more force, driving you into him and he wrapped you into his arms - he was very good at bringing you close and he knew, not once had you fought it. "I didn't want to scare you before. I'm sorry I was so forward."

You gave a little shrug. "Don't worry about it, Rooster. I'm just a big girl with big problems," you said simply.

"Do you think you know... why you don't want to get close to me?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

You looked up at him and he knew the kicker was coming. "You have I have very different daddy issues," you told him. "When my dad left, I thought he'd come back. For years I thought I could try and make him want us again... but my sister and I weren't enough and if he could leave us, who he was supposed to love so fucking easily, it doesn't give you much confidence as an adult. He picked another family over us, I have other siblings I don't even know. The shit sticks."

Holy shit, Rooster thought, his knuckles rubbing against your back. He paused and held you tightly. He didn't know that... hell, he did but certainly not to that deep an extent and maybe your issues were a little more deeply rooted than Natasha had alluded to. He certainly couldn't blame you for that.

"You mean something to me, and ruining anything with you would destroy me," you continued. "I appreciate our friendship and that comfort that brings me."

He nodded. It felt like a kiss-off, that was for sure. "I wasn't asking for the rest of our lives," he said quietly.

"I know," you pulled back, needing to be completely out of his reach. "But I just don't know what to tell you right now."

"And that is the end of our first fake date," Rooster said, hating to admit he was kind of relieved as you got back to your apartment. He followed you to the front door and wanted you to feel as safe as you could in his presence because you hadn't said it... but everything had changed, and he knew it too. He didn't expect the night to go like this, but he knew, like you... things couldn't be the same again now.

You gave him a gentle smile and his heart fluttered, he'd always loved your smile, but shit... it was his now. He left your heels neatly at the stoop. "I hope today wasn't a total bust for you. Now you know how good I am at ruining good things," you poked fun at yourself. "It's a wicked character trait."

He sighed, dropping his eyes. "Why would you think that being honest with me would ruin anything?" he had to ask, putting his hands in his pockets. "Don't you think I appreciate that more?"

"I dunno," you leaned back against the door as he looked back at you, chewing your lip and God, he wanted to be the one chewing that lip. Vulnerability to most people could be seen as a red flag but to him? You were telling him things that you'd never told anyone, and that was almost sacred and it would always mean more. He knew you trusted him, but made him uneasy that it wasn't with your heart. "Do you?"

He rolled his eyes, a faint grin on his face. "Yes. I do appreciate that more. I've learned more about you tonight than I have in the last 30 years, which is kind of awesome... and terrifying."

"Terrifying?" you repeated, a little disappointed as he stepped closer.

"If you think for one second that you scaring me is a bad thing, you are kidding yourself," of this he was certain. He wasn't scared to be out of his comfort zone with you.

You finally smiled and shook your head gently. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Rooster. I owe you, big time."

"Don't be crazy. I drank top-shelf booze, ate more cake than I have eaten for years, and I got to spend my night with you. We'll call it even."

"Well, thank you. It really meant a lot. And it won't happen again, there are no weddings or other OTT celebrations in the foreseeable future."

"That's a shame," he laughed quietly.

There was a slight beat before your rationality kicked in. "Well, I should go in," you told him, pushing back off the door and reaching for your keys in your clutch. "I'm sure you've got an early morning."

"Class," he acknowledged.

You nodded. There would always be something. "Goodnight, Rooster," you said as you unlocked the door and took a step in before pausing. Rationality be damned. "Unless you wanna come in?" you called softly in the dead quiet of the night. You could see his brain working a million miles a moment.

This wasn't something you and Rooster did, you didn't hang out together this way, it was always in a group, always someone else to play the distraction. "Yeah, I really do," he admitted,  standing before you. The air around you had changed and you swore it wasn't just you that noticed it. For the first time tonight, his nervousness was evident and he put his palm on your cool cheek. Licking his lips, he admitted, "I really wanna come in," he said quietly, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes searched yours as you pushed the door open and your hand found his. He followed willingly, quietly kicking the front door closed as you led him down the small hallway to your living room. Low lit from the lamp you'd left on for your late arrival, Rooster was interested to check out your place. Quaint, but it was quintessentially you. Linen in neutral and blue, a stash of books on the coffee table. A home. "Do you want a drink?" you asked.

Erring on the side of caution, he responded 'water'. He was starting to cut it fine of being in a proper state for the following morning and while he could take his liquor, the last thing he wanted was a hangover in an F-18. You came back to him with a cool glass and he gave you a small smile of thanks. He tossed his suit jacket on the end of the couch, finally happy to be rid of the silly thing.

"Do you mind if I get changed? This dress is clogged with sand, it's wet and damp."

"Course not. Go make yourself comfy," he said with a small smile as he watched you walk away before he preoccupied himself with the endless photos on your wall. A tasteful aesthetic of beautiful white frames with a mix of colour and black and white photos stored in them, he felt the love and consideration you'd put into the curation of images. And holy shit, if it wasn't you on his Mom's hip. You were crying and she was trying to appease you in any way she could. He took the photo from the wall and you wandered back a few minutes later, hair down, oversized Lakers t-shirt and you saw what he stared at.

"Mom said I had just been told I couldn't get an ice cream from the ice cream truck," you filled him in. Rooster actually laughed.

"That's the cutest fucking thing I ever heard."

"And Carole was trying to tell me she could get me ice cream from your place even though my mom was saying no, but I didn't want it anyway because it didn't come from the ice cream man. Naturally."

"That's amazing. This is about the last photo I would have ever expected to have seen, you know?"

"You can have it if you want. I mean, I'm a screaming three-year-old, but your mom looks absolutely beautiful."

"Always," he said softly and put the photo back carefully on the wall. "You keep it, it gives me something to see when I am here."

You shrugged easily and took a seat on the couch. He took a hint and went to join you, taking a cool sip of water to regulate. This was just not how he saw the night going. Sure, he was a man, he had eyes in perfect working order. He wouldn't lie and say he hadn't memorised every curve of your body, your smile and that absolutely devastating self-deprecating wit but there were plenty of other distractions in his wake. But here you were, right before him. And you, at that moment, were perfect but he didn't know what you wanted from him and it ate him alive.

"What time is class tomorrow?"

"Eight," he replied.

You gently reached for his hand, avoiding his eyes and tracing over the callouses and his lifelines. "I'm sorry about before," you said finally. "I am really good at finding ways to make a night nosedive."

He shook his head, laying an arm against the length of the couch in hopes you'd shift just a little closer again. "No, fuck no. Please don't apologise."

"You know more about me tonight than most people know in a lifetime. I'm really not the sharing kind."

"That... I knew," he with a smile. "I kind of figured we were a bit alike that way anyway. But it gives me a little bit of hope. I'll weasel my way in," he said confidently. "You'll regret opening yourself up to me," he teased as you laughed heartily.

"Using my trauma against me," you fist-pumped and he was so relieved you could see the funny side to it as he scooted a little closer since you didn't. "Awesome."

"I promise I never would do that," he said sincerely. "I have enough baggage to take everyone in this damn town out."

"That's true," you agreed. "What a mess we are."

"You're not a mess. You have your reasons, just like I do," he let go of your hand and reached into his shirt, pulling out his dog tags. "These have been driving me mad all night. Think they're imprinted into my chest..."

"Can I see?" you asked as he shrugged and slipped it over his head, gently putting it over yours and letting the tags jangle across your heart. You picked it up and looked at the imprints of his name. "Bradley N. Bradshaw," you spoke. "What do you think your parents were thinking when they gave you more or less the same first and last names?"

He laughed loudly. "Bradley was my mom's dad's name," he explained. "And it was the 80's. I guess they thought it just sounded cool. They didn't think of what it might be like for me at 34."

You grinned, tracing the bumps of his ID. "I forgot what these felt like. Dad's, Grandpa's. Having them in my hands like they were a toy, and what they really stand for."

Rooster didn't speak. He understood what you meant without having to go into it.

"Roost?"

He hummed in reply.

"Have you thought about settling down?"

"I've thought about it," he shrugged simply. "I haven't really found anyone who I want to settle down with. Last thing I want is something that doesn't last. I want to feel like my parents did - I can hardly remember it... but the way Mom spoke about Dad after he died? That's something to strive for, you know? I know she was sick... but she really died of a broken heart in the end," he said quietly.

Holy shit... you thought.

"When I find the one, I'll know," he added, taking your hand back into his and this time, he avoided your gaze as he drew circles around the pads of your palm. "I'm sure of it." He was sure of it.

"And here I was thinking you loved being a bachelor and the notoriety of the Navy," you said, and he appreciated the teasing as he laughed, scratching his neck.

"I mean, yeah. There are some benefits to not settling," lifting his gaze back to you, he pondered again. "I'm not really that guy that falls quickly."

You nodded, you knew what that felt like and you knew he was growing weary of sharing hour, so you decided to make things more interesting. "I've asked Natasha this and was not remotely surprised with her response. But I'll ask you too because I know you wouldn't lie to me... What's the greater thrill: flying... or fucking, Rooster?"

Rooster chuckled quietly. "That is going directly for the jugular," you saw his lips move, but sounds didn't follow through. "I love flying," he looked up. "My fate is sealed, but the right person? Jesus, fucking the right person could make you wanna give it all up, you know?"

"No, I don't," you pressed, your brain trying to decipher his answer. "That's why I asked."

He smiled, a small tint of red creeping up to his cheeks. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I think I like making you squirm," you said simply as dropped his eyes, coy all of a sudden.

"Oh, I get it now," he thought about it. "If it was life and death, I would, I can't believe I'm saying this... but I'd fly."

"Oh, my God," your jaw may have hit the floor. It just was not the response you were expecting but told you a lot about Rooster's priorities.

"As I said, if it was the right person..." he tried to over-correct himself as you bit back your grin, covering your mouth with your joined hands.

"I'm speechless," you continued to needle him.

"Okay, if this is the little game we want to play - " he announced, smacking the top of your hand.

Oh, fuck.

"My turn, then," he said straightening up and you panicked, and he grinned because he could see you were clearly panicking. "Why haven't you really settled? You could have found the guy that it could have all worked with. You're smart, fucking hilarious, beautiful. Now don't get me wrong... but for most guys, that's all they need. We're not overly complex creatures."

"Honestly?"

His hand that was in yours clamped down and was trapped in his strong grasp. "Honestly."

"I don't think I'm ever going to find what I'm looking for. I haven't found someone that can keep my attention for long enough."

He stayed silent, he wasn't convinced.

You grunted and continued. "I date. A lot. I am just not broadcasting how average these dudes are I'm dating. Why do I want to spend my time with someone with who I don't spark with?"

"Do you really have a problem with commitment?" he asked pointedly.

"No, I have a problem with assholes," you replied smartly. "You haven't settled down, do you have a problem with a commitment?" you threw back.

He rubbed his moustache and he considered his answer. "No, I'm content with not being ready to settle down yet."

"So, yeah. You kind of have a problem with commitment," you laughed as he nudged you.

"I realise I'm in my prime," he shrugged, giving his ego receiving a nice self-stroking. You didn't mind Rooster talking himself up, it was incredibly sexy, truth be told. He was generally pretty modest about all that kind of stuff and kept his business to himself but really, he wasn't completely unlike his friends and co-workers. He knew he good a good-looking dude, his voice could turn you inside out (you figured), he could command a presence fairly easily, and women were putty in his hands. It wasn't a lot of effort on his behalf.

Grinning widely, you snuck closer to him, sitting on your knees and he watched his hands fall to his thighs as you released yourself from his grasp. God, you loved making him writhe and he dared you to ask what you were thinking. "I'm not stupid, Rooster. I know you get a handful of numbers when we go out."

"How many of those girls do you think I call?" he asked, thoughtfully. He knew you were getting off on this, taking the focus off you and pinning it on him. He didn't mind, he knew you were enjoying this little game of cat and mouse, and you weren't really offended by any of his questions, so he couldn't be either.

"You tell me," you whispered.

He adjusted his posture and he took your chin in his palm, his thumb imprinting on your chin. God, you were right there, so close... desperate to be kissed. "I like the chase," his voice low. "But the chase isn't all that much a challenge much anymore," he admitted and his wrist started beeping. 4am. He needed to go. He silenced it. "Saved by the bell," he announced. "That's my alarm."

"And just when we were getting to the juicy bits," you sighed as he kept your gaze, a small smile on his face.

"We can continue this if you like. At a more respectable hour."

"No thank you," you said quickly and he chuckled quietly.

"I'm not surprised by that."

You smiled shyly. "Sorry."

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, do you know that?" he couldn't stop himself from saying. It just had to be said and put out there. Great, now it was done, he reasoned. You didn't break his gaze, you were daring him to make a move. He licked his lips and had to laugh. He'd already made the move. If you wanted him, he decided... the ball was in your court. Come and claim me, he wished.

"Roost?" you said again.

He raised an eyebrow in reply.

"Stay."

"No," he said, sitting forward. Fight for me.

You got to your feet and pushed him back against the couch, a small grunt bristling as you stepped between his wide legs. He reached for your hamstrings, his hands massaging against your bare skin as he raised his eyes to you. It was powerful and intimate and he didn't know if he trusted himself to be touching you like this.

"If you've got something to say... this would be the time to say it," his voice thick with desire, daring you.

"Stay," you repeated, your fingers coiling into his sun-kissed ringlets, giving them a gentle tug as he slowly licked his lips.

"Gonna need more than that," he told you, pulling you flush against him, helping you straddle him, his arms in a vice grip around you.

"Stay for me."

He bristled a laugh as you reached for a button on his shirt, dainty fingers making light work of the straining material over his chest. "Think I'm gonna just fuck you after all this?" he removed your hands, placing them back in your lap where he silently prayed you'd keep them because his strength was waning and if you tried really hard, you'd have him exactly where you wanted him. "You really wanna make this about a quick fuck and I just up and leave?" he shook his head. "I think you know by now I want a little more than that."

"What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, your fingers tracing his scars, finding one on his jaw you were particularly fond of and tracing it, feeling him tremor beneath you. "Tell me," you said reaching for the hem of your shirt and he knew he was going for martyrdom as he held your shirt down, whispering a curse. "You don't want me?" you asked, easing back just a little, shocked and a little more than embarrassed.

"More than anything. Can't you fuckin' see that?" he took your face in his palms and he could see your resolve crumble, breaking him as your eyes shone with tears. "That's why we gotta wait."

Your gaze dropped, you hadn't felt rejected like this in a long time. You didn't feel sexy, you didn't feel desired and you absolutely did not feel like he wanted you regardless of the apparent sincerity of his words.

"Listen to me," his voice raspy from alcohol and exhaustion. "Tonight, before tonight," he confided. "I've thought about taking you in every position my mind could imagine. But every one of them was crude and in my mind, pure fantasy. Why do you think I didn't even think about saying no to any of this tonight? All these years and all we have to show for us is a cheap fuck? I got a little more respect for you than that, baby girl. I wanna turn you inside out," he whispered against your skin. "Why do you think I never made a move before? If you give me the green light, I will absolutely pray to you."

You had forgotten how to breathe and he kept your eyes locked to his.

"I want to worship you," he told you, repeating your name like a mantra. "Don't you get it?"

The blood was pumping so loud in your ears that you were finding it hard to focus. You were drawn out of your stupor as his alarm started buzzing on his wrist again. He was getting later.

"I gotta go," he murmured, his face so close. "Just think about it, okay?" he said quietly, kissing your temple.

"That will be the problem," you confided as he hummed.

"I hope so," he helped detangle yourself from him, letting you stand although your legs were absolutely jelly. He smiled at you finally, thoroughly wretched, and all due to him. "So many things I want to do to you," he breathed. "But now, I gotta go." He'd been short on time before, but nothing as bad as this made him feel.

"I'm not asking you to stay again," you threatened pathetically, and he heard the lies as clearly as you did.

He nodded. But he couldn't and he knew he didn't have to explain his duty... because of anyone who knew him, you understood this most. "See me out?" he asked.

"Okay," you murmured, following him by the hand down the hallway. You unlocked the door, and he pushed it closed again, leaving his palm and weight against it. You raised a surprised eyebrow.

"I just can't - " he closed his eyes, dropping everything he was holding and grasping your face tenderly between his calloused palms. "Please think about this."

"And if I fuck it up?" you asked, scared as reality started to kick in.

"What if I do?" he challenged. "Do we not owe it to ourselves to find out?"

You nodded, almost pained, pressing your hands to his chest because you needed the last few touches before he left you. "Yes, we do," and with that, his lips were on yours. Soft, unobtrusive, it felt like you'd been kissing him your whole life. Familiar and right, you didn't realise how long you'd been waiting for this. He was such a good kisser, and there was no going back now. The words were out there... his kiss had tainted you.

His hands left your face, tangling into your hair, it felt incredible. He smiled against your lips and lightly pulled back. "You only needed to say yes," he told you, holding your face, his warm hazel eyes dancing and he kissed you again, a little rougher this time, his large hands tangling into your hair, tugging at strands as they moved to your back, dangerously close to your ass. "I'm holding back so bad right now, because the second I give in, I will stay."

"Can't you call in?" you asked hopefully, reaching for his lips again, your hands drifting to his hips and his head fell back with a quiet sigh. He pleaded for your hands anywhere further north.

"If I don't front up today... every single person we know will know exactly where I am... and why," he said, voice laced in mirth.

You told him softly, "I will make it worth your while."

He groaned loudly, his body already ready and willing, pressed unyielding against you. "I believe you," he breathed. "The idea of being with you will be all I'll be able to think about today. God damn," he hissed, his alarm going off again. "Can I see you later?"

"I think that's a good idea."

He gave a small smile, pushing some hair from your eyes. "Good morning, fake girlfriend," he kissed you gently again, let go of you to collect his gear at your feet and forced himself into opening the door, stepping over the threshold purposefully. He leaned back and kissed you once more. "I'll call you later," he breathed, trying to gather some resolve.

"Tonight?"

He nodded. "Tonight."

"Okay. Good morning, fake boyfriend." But now... there was nothing fake about it.

"Oh, before I forget," Rooster pointed at you. You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, the adrenaline of the evening waning as he started to wander away. "What are you doing the last Saturday of next month?"

You outwardly shrugged. At this point you didn't know how today would even pan out as he wandered back to you, lips painfully close to yours, his arms slipping around your waist again and you didn't want him to let go. "I dunno. Why?"

"I got a wedding invite through the week," he smiled kindly and you bit back a laugh. "Thought maybe you'd like to go with me..."

"Think you can keep this fake dating thing going until then?" you asked, caressing his cheek.

"I'm pretty confident we may not be fake dating then..." he said quietly, kissing you just one more time.

"Ballsy of you to assume."

He nodded. "Yep," his eyebrow quirked.

"Do you have to wear your dress uniform?"

"Yes," he sighed, recalling your first conversation.

"Damn. This suit is really good," you playfully teased him, knowing his dress uniform would likely bring you to your knees. White or blue, you didn't care. It would be utter carnage.

"I don't even think a dry cleaner would bring this back to its original glory," he admitted with a chuckle.

"Shame."

"Jesus Christ, I want to stay. Please tell me to leave," his eyes fluttered closed.

You smiled as he took a wide step back. "You'd better go."

He nodded, thankful for your push. "I'll see you later," he said and forcibly turned away, his feet taking him away from you and when he was out of your view, you felt the weight of his dog tags on your chest.

"Oh, shit."

masterlist.

A/N: Want to learn more about these crazy kids? Here we go! 

The Relationship Experience - prologue

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 3

Part 2 / AO3 Link

After school practices for the Thanksgiving performance was only for the students who wanted to put a little more time into it. Apparently a bulk of the rehearsal happened during their music class and that made sense. Still, Steve was glad to put a face to some of the kids his son mentioned. The first night there had been a girl who's lip trembled at the slightest upset and Steve knew that had to be Yasmin.

"She's a crybaby who cries over everything", Shawn had said one time.

"Hm, need I remind you of all the times you've cried? Why I remember just last week-"

"We don't need to talk about that", Shawn said, properly chastised.

Even so, Steve could see how it could get a little frustrating to be in a class with someone as sensitive as that. And yet, Mr. Munson never let on that he was frustrated or anything like that. Every time the tears came, he talked her down. Which was quite the feat since he had probably been doing it for eight hours at this point.

"You're really good with the kids", Steve complimented when Mr. Munson took a seat near them to rest.

Third grade was working on their performance piece on the stage now while the smaller kids got a break. Mr. Munson smiled a bit as he scratched at his head.

"Yeah, well, patience is key, as I'm sure you know. Actually, how old are the kids you teach?", he asked.

"Middle school", Steve answered, laughing a little when he saw the other teacher's eyes get wide in fear.

"Braver than any marine, I swear. I will take spilt milk tears over the raging hormones going on over there."

Steve's brain decided to highlight the word 'hormones' which made him delayed in his response. He cleared his throat to try and cover it up. "It's not as bad as all that. I've got the babies of middle school, the sixth graders, but don't tell them I said that. And I'm lucky I've got a group there that's absolutely obsessed with science."

He met Mr. Munson's eyes and was met with a million watt smile. One that he knew was on his own face too.

"That's the best feeling, ain't it? When they wanna soak up as much as you can give?"

"The best", Steve agreed. It wasn't always candy and roses but it was all worth it for those days when everything just clicked. "Speaking of passions, did you get that approval for your ideas for the show?"

"They said I could play guitar, but they vetoed my pyrotechnics idea."

That night, Mr. Munson walked him and Shawn back to their car. And as such, became a routine for two days out of the week. Through it all, Steve commended himself for only drooling a little over him and only when he was alone.

At home, one Saturday, Shawn was humming his class' song while Steve made them lunch. He looked to the calendar and realized the show would be that coming Monday. Well, he knew that but it hit him that in less than a week, Thanksgiving break would start and then there wouldn't be much of a reason for him to see Mr. Munson anymore.

Just as the thought came to him, he looked at the school events calendar he had put in his phone and saw that there would be a Winter Dance but that it was for 4th and 5th grade only. He held back a sigh. Oh well, maybe if he got particularly antsy, he could schedule a confere-no, nononono.

He wasn't going to waste a teacher's time over nothing. Just because, what? He wanted to see him?

He said as much when he talked to Robin the next day. They were sitting in his living room, Shawn was up in his room, reading on this lazy Sunday.

"So, you're just going to avoid him?"

"It's not avoiding. I'm just not going to go out of my way to seek him out", Steve clarified. "And maybe this little crush", he whispered the word 'crush' like tiny ears were listening, "will die down."

"Mhm", Robin nodded, unconvinced. "You know they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

Steve leaned back against the couch. "There's at least one absence I'm not missing."

"...Don't tell me this is all because of him?"

"It's not because of him but...", Steve's eyes traveled to where Shawn's baby book sat on a bookshelf. Inside were the only pictures of Shawn's sire. And honestly, Steve wouldn't even have those if it were up to him. But he wanted to leave the door open just for when Shawn got older and could decide how much he wanted that man in his life.

"I don't think Mr. Munson is anything like him. Of course I don't. But I can't make a mistake like that again. If Shawn got hurt, I could never forgive myself."

Robin gave him a pat on the leg. "If you really think it's for the best."

It was. Steve knew that what was on the surface could be hiding something ugly underneath. He wasn't going to expose him or his pup to anything like that again. Mr. Munson was nice but these feelings weren't deep enough to swim in. Steve was barely getting his toes wet. He would stay high and dry and then Shawn would go on to second grade and then he would only see Mr. Munson in passing, if that.

Steve had all these affirmations in mind as he settled in to see Shawn's performance Monday. Planning ahead, Steve had told his school a couple weeks ago that he had a doctor appointment and wouldn't be coming in until later. Just long enough to pop in and see Shawn sing. As he had planned and rehearsed, Mr. Munson sat on a stool to one side of the stage, acoustic guitar in his lap.

It was all the school would allow and seeing as the kids' singing voices weren't super strong, it was for the best. Steve recorded the act, phone focused on Shawn while every once in a while, his eyes drifted to Mr. Munson.

After the song, Steve waved to Shawn, who waved back. He had told him ahead of time that he'd have to go back to work after seeing him, so that his son wouldn't be disappointed. When they saw each other at home later, Shawn's adrenaline from the day hadn't waned.

"So a lot of the other kids' parents took them home, so Mr. Munson let some of us play with his guitar!"

"Did he now?", Steve smiled.

"Uh-huh. He even taught us how to play. Do you think he teaches guitar?"

"Would you like some lessons?", Steve asked.

"Only if Mr. Munson is teaching it. He makes everything so cool."

-------------------------

Steve watched as Shawn ran ahead to go into the corn maze. Most of the corn was gone, so he wasn't worried about him getting lost as Robin went to get them hot ciders. Shawn scurried through the maze when he found someone familiar.

Robin had come back with two ciders that she and Steve sipped on while Shawn made his way through the maze.

"Dad! Look who's here!"

Steve looked up, expecting to see one of his little friends. Not Mr. Munson.

Not Mr. Munson in ripped jeans and a leather jacket.

Not Mr. Munson in ripped jeans and a leather jacket with chunky rings and his hair let loose, spilling over his shoulders.

"Dad look! It's Mr. Munson! Dad?"

"Mr. Munson! What a surprise!", Robin came in for the save while Steve was speechless. She gave him a subtle nudge that really wasn't all that subtle but that was okay because Mr. Munson was having his own crisis.

Because here was Mr. Harrington, enjoying a harvest festival, shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful alpha woman.

"H-hey, didn't expect to run into you here", Mr. Munson stuttered.

"Me neither", Steve said, voice a little breathless. He cleared it and remembered himself. "This is Robin, she's my neighbor. Robin, this is Shawn's teacher."

"Heard so much about you", Robin grinned.

Steve wanted to kick her in the shin.

"Hey, Shawn, how's about we go and pick out a pumpkin or something?", Robin suggested, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the other two, leaving them alone.

Mr. Munson looked like a deer caught in headlights and Steve couldn't blame him.

"Jesus, she couldn't be anymore obvious."

"Did you want to talk to me about something, Mr. Harrington?"

"No, I didn't. But, I think...I think we should have this conversation anyway." Steve ran a hand through his hair.

They went to a little sitting area the farm had set up near the food booths so that they could talk. Eddie's mind ran a mile a minute, thinking of what this could be about. Both good and bad. He'd gotten a hot chocolate both to keep his hands warm and to give him something to do with said hands. Hands that Mr. Harrington was staring at right now.

"I um", he shook his head and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. "I just wanted to-god this is hard."

"Well, let's make it easier", Eddie said. "Is it about Shawn? Is he having problems in school?"

"No, it's not about that. It's about us-I mean, there is no us but I-goddammit", Steve hissed, cheeks getting red in embarrassment. He let out a breath. "Mr. Munson, I'm having..." don't say feelings don't say feelings don't say feelings "-sensations, that aren't entirely professional. About you."

"Oh."

"And I know nothing can come of it, but I just want you to know that, to know that I'm aware of them and if I ever come on, I guess too strong, please just let me know."

"Um, for how long?", Eddie asked, hoping he wasn't vibrating in his seat because it sure did feel that way.

"Uhh, pretty much since I first met you", Mr. Harrington admitted. "And I don't know if it's because you've been looking after me and Shawn when we walk back to the car, or if it's something else but you just smell...you feel safe. And it's hard for me not too....", he trailed off, voice getting soft.

He didn't know how much that meant to Eddie. His first year of teaching, Eddie had gone on scent blockers, not wanting to overwhelm the little noses in his room. But one day he'd forgotten and things just seemed to run more smoothly when they could get a whiff of him. For Mr. Harrington to say his scent made him feel safe...

"It hasn't exactly been easy for me either", Eddie finally said. "Me too, since that first day I... But you already said nothing can come from it."

There was a hesitant look in Mr. Harrington's eyes. "Well, you know, why not?"

"Why...not?", Eddie echoed.

"I have my personal reasons for not pursuing this, but they mostly involve Shawn. If he doesn't know about it, I mean if we can hide it from most people, you won't get in trouble with the school. And we won't, you know get Shawn's hopes up if it doesn't become serious."

"Why, Mr. Harrington, are you propositioning me?" Honestly, Eddie didn't give a flying fuck what this principal thought about his private life. At the end of the day, it really was just Shawn he was worried about. He didn't know what happened to the other half of his DNA, but he knew that kids with only one parent sometimes longed for a second. He couldn't make Shawn think that was him unless this was the real deal. And he wouldn't know that for sure if he didn't give this a try.

"For starters, when we're not on school grounds, you can call me Steve."

"Eddie."

"Eddie, would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Steve's face was a mix of hopeful and confident that Eddie wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. "I'd love to."

Part 4

There is absolutely some angst with Steve's baby daddy comin down the line. I came up with it where I come up with all my best ideas, half asleep when I wake up in the morning.

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @hippieg1rl420 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

[dollveis]

hey! saw your requests were open :) could you do a story (modern or current au) where joel owns bar and sometimes lets bands/people play and a f!reader is singing (and playing gutair) while ellie is there and once the reader is done with her set she goes up to the bar (where ellie is) and they flirt? or maybe ellie starts coming to the bar more often only to hear the reader? il your work your so talented!

⠀⠀⠀𐚁 ͏͏ ᳝˚ ͏͏𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤. | ellie w. ׁ ׂ ✦

✿ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : modern!ellie x fem!reader.

✿ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : ellie's too drunk to drive, the music is nice and you're too.

✿ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : ellie is crushing so bad it's cute, kinda insecure ellie too, love at first sight, mostly fluff, mention of fingering (i couldn't help myself).

✿ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ; 1.2k

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀✿ ﹙ 𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒﹚: I ABSOLUTELY FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS REQUEST, IT'S SO CUTE, so i hope it fulfills your expectations. sadly lately im having a block but i had fun writing this. pd: i don't know how i always make shy ellie until she gets affected by some substance.

⠀⠀⠀

captivating. that's the word ellie williams would use to describe you and your presentations, but mostly to describe you. you captivated her attention since the first time she saw you even if she would deny it everytime joel whispered in her ear how mesmerized ellie was by you, the kinda cute girl with a pretty voice and pretty hands playing the guitar like she would call you in her mind.

"if you keep looking at her like that i think you're gonna erase her face." he mocked the auburn haired girl, who as answer just protested and stood up with her drink in hand, the gray-haired man let out a throaty laugh and walked away to serve a drink to some man who called him.

she was not looking at you, not like that. she was just admiring how talented you were. and fuck, you really were, a relaxing and silvery voice accompanying the sweet tune of the acoustic guitar playing a recognizable rhythm for ellie, take on me by a-ha, and she couldn't help herself but think about how attractive you seemed under the yellowish lights of the old west thematic bar. well, maybe she was looking at you like that but she refused to admit it because ellie was really far away from being a hopeless romantic (probably the opposite), but since joel introduced her to you like an old pupil of his she fell like a fool, at first sight.

"she's good, isn't she?" joel came back, lying against the bar, looking at you, the girl who he taught to play guitar when she was 8. ellie hummed in response, absorbed by you. "since she started coming here to perform you're also coming more." he pointed.

"i'm not, liar." she barked defensively, and that made joel chuckle. "i come when people play..."

"yeah, but always come when she's here." he could barely contain his cocky smile, for joel seeing his 'anti love' kid was the funniest, cute too. "you should talk to her more, she's a good girl."

"what?!" her body becoming stiff at the thought of talking to you, she looked at him with wide eyes. "there's no way i'm doing that. no, like, no fucking way, joel, she's out of my league." ellie rambled, with nervous voice and red ears.

"who's out of your league?" there you were, with a shy smile and your guitar in it's case.

"who? no one!" she layed back against the bar with her beer in hand and an awkward smile avoiding looking directly to your eyes. "hey, yn... you did good." scratching her neck, she tried to look at you.

"thank you, els." you said, putting your weight on one leg, with your head facing down and your eyes looking at her.

"els?" she said with a dorky smile, red ears and brilliant eyes.

"you don't like it? sorry, it was not my intention, i didn't wanna-"

"no, i mean, it's not that-"

"no, really-" you were a nervous wreck just by the thought of her hating you.

"i like it." she said confidently, confident that disappeared in seconds, leaving a reddish ellie with wide eyes who took her whole beer in one sip trying to calm herself. "joel, serve me a whiskey!".

she wanted to disappear, she embarrassed herself in front of you, or that's what she thought, but you laughed attempting to be as discrete as you could, making her laugh shyly. you walked next to her, ordering a drink.

you didn't know how it happened, but you were entering ellie's room with her, holding hands with interlocked fingers and your heart racing fast.

joel asked you to drive the affected ellie, who drinked anxiously trying to calm her nerves, to her house, and you accepted concerned about the freckled girl. she was not that bad, but she was drunk enough to don't let her drive.

"okay, i'm gonna bring you some water and a bin just in case." you breaked the contact between your hands, leaving a cold and empty sensation. "and i'm gonna leave." you smiled, with traces of sadness in it, hoping she won't tell you to don't go, because you didn't wanna leave the warmth on your heart caused by her.

ellie just looked at you, analyzing the situation, should she ask you to stay for a while?

"uhmm..." she cleared her throat, walking towards her desk, with awkward movements. "before you go i want to show you something, if it's okay." she picked up her guitar, that was supported by the desk.

if she was honest with herself, she lost motivation about music a while ago, she stopped playing tunes in the guitar, writing songs at the moonlight. but when she saw you a few weeks ago, it felt like all the songs started to mean something again and unconsciously, she learned can't take my eyes off you thinking about you because she couldn't take her off you even if she deny it.

you nodded, impatient, leaning against her desk as she sat on her bed with space themed sheets.

ellie started to sing, with a shaky and nervous voice, genuinely afraid of your reaction because well, maybe you would take the hint, maybe you would realize she was confessing to you driven by the alcohol on her blood,

"i love you, baby,"

her words started falling over you like rocks,

"and if it's quite alright,"

her sweet stupid voice making you so conscious about your heartbeat,

"i need you, baby."

and her partially chapped lips encouraging you to think about how good they could feel against yours, how well her fingers would make you feel and in general how much you wanted her in every definition of the word.

suddenly the guitar stopped and her voice hissed, "god, don't look at me like that..." one of her hands covering her -probably red- face.

"how i'm looking at you?" pretending innocence you took a step forward in her direction.

"you're looking at me in a way..." she swallowed, collecting herself, she was gonna say it directly. "you're looking at me in a way it makes me wanna kiss you, can i? " she left her guitar away, standing up to face you and gently tilting your chin so your eyes locked.

"kiss me." before she could react you already kissed her, not in a suggestive way, just enjoying how she her hands caressed your cheeks, both of you melting in a sweet kiss, slow.

once your lips finally separated from hers, you looked directly to her eyes, "i can't stop looking at your eyes, they are like stars." she blushed and chuckled for your words, going for another kiss, kiss that slowly started to tone up.

and without realizing you both were laying on her bed sharing a intimate moment, facing each other with your fingers interlocked again.

caressing her knuckles you asked "how many people you've kissed?" shame invading you immediately, why you asked that.

"very few." her answer was indifferent, she didn't care about anything more than you in that moment.

"then why you offered me a kiss?" your pupils tried to avoid hers, ashamed by your own questions.

ellie giggled.

"because i wanted to." said while her free hand roamed around your collarbone, examining every beauty mark you could have there, trying to memorize it.

and you did the same, analyzing her features, her eyes, her freckles, everything about her.

"so... you accept going on a date with me?" she kissed your forehead.

[wilbursoot-updates]

Interview: Lovejoy Are Taking the World by Storm, One Show at a Time

Lovejoy is in this article!

Lovejoy kicked off their highly anticipated Across The Pond Tour in May. The British rock band, who recently released their third EP “Wake Up & It’s Over,” played shows to adoring fans throughout the U.S. and Canada—wowing audiences with their rambunctious guitars and tell-all lyrics. Before their show at Boston’s Royale on June 2nd, Staff Writer, Elle Dickson sat down with the band to discuss new music and the highs and lows of tour.

SO HOW ARE Y’ALL DOING TODAY? 

Ash Kabosu: Doing good. We’re just plotting world domination at the moment. 

THAT FEELS RIGHT. HOW EXCITED ARE Y’ALL TO BE IN BOSTON?

Mark Boardman: We’ve never been.

AK: Joe loves Boston.

Wilbur Soot: It’s his favorite place in the world. 

AK: Which is why he’s not here, he’s off enjoying Boston. 

LOVELY, SO HOW HAS THE TOUR BEEN SO FAR FOR YOU GUYS?

WS: Very good. Very tiring.

AK: Wild. Yeah, really cool. Just like every end of the spectrum—it’s been amazing, but it’s also been awful at times. Yeah, it’s just been a big mixed bag.

WHAT HAVE BEEN YOUR FAVORITE PARTS OF THE TOUR SO FAR? 

AK: I really liked San Francisco! I think it gets a bad rap because everywhere else we went in the country, we’ve been telling people where we’ve been going, and they say, “Oh, be careful in San Francisco!” and we got there and it couldn’t be finer. There was nothing wrong—it was very pleasant, very green, a lot of fun, and there were lots of cool places to eat. I had a great time! 

MB: I think mine was [San Francisco] too. We have a good friend that lives out there, so it was nice to see them again.

AK: They showed us around, showed us some good food, and we got to see the sunset in a field overlooking the city.

MB: Then, the next day, they secretly opened for us—did an amazing show. They absolutely smashed it!

AK: Yeah, that show was great. It was a really good crowd... Austin, Texas was really cool. I think that was maybe my favorite show, just in terms of crowd and energy and everything. Yeah, it was huge. 

WS: It was daunting. 

AK: I had loads of fun in Nashville as well. That’s where we first went. We were there for a few days. We just went out to Broadway and went to a bunch of bars to listen to the country bands play. They were all just incredible—like it made me aware of the caliber of musicians and it made me nervous. I was like, “Fuck, we really gotta prove ourselves.” 

WS: Yeah, Nashville was really cool. 

WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING TO KEEP THINGS FUN ON TOUR? 

WS: I attack Mark. 

MB: He’s been doing that since before tour. 

AK: Let the record show that I’m actually sitting between them now to prevent Will from harming Mark any further.

YOU GOTTA KEEP HIM SAFE BEFORE THE SHOW!

AK: Just his legs, he could probably beat the drum with your head. 

MB: I don’t know. I feel like I’d get brain damage first. 

THE EP IS STILL PRETTY YOUNG. HOW HAS THAT IMPACTED THE TOUR? 

AK: I’m very impressed with how the crowds have already learned the songs. I did not expect that. I thought there would be one or two stand-out songs or choruses that really resonate with people, but they’re singing every word and that's nuts. Like, that’s dedication that we don’t even deserve, and that's wonderful. 

WS: Yeah, it’s crazy. 

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE ONE OF YOUR SHOWS TO SOMEONE WHO’S NEVER BEEN TO ONE?

MB: Loud.

WS: Yeah. Very loud. It’s not even the sound system or the music—it’s literally just how loud the fans scream. 

AK: Our record was 120 decibels I think, in Texas, which is the equivalent of standing next to a jet engine. We have molded in-ears that we wear for playback while we perform, and if at any point I take mine out, it’s almost deafening.

WS: Every crew member that works in the venue has no idea what to expect then our sound guy tries to tell us–

AK: He tries to tell them, “It’s gonna be loud,” and they’re like “Okay.” Then they go, “Oh fuck, my ears!”

WS: They all put their earplugs in as well. It's ridiculous. 

WHAT ARE Y’ALLS FAVORITE SONGS TO PLAY?

MB: It’s gotta be “Portrait of a Blank Slate” for me. I think it’s really fun.

AK: Yeah, I really like playing “Portrait of a Blank Slate,” but it’s really hard for me to play, so the chances of me playing it well are low—but when I do, it feels really good. “Scum” is also really fun. It has our biggest build. The crowd also always goes wild for “Sex Sells,” so that’s really cool.

WS: “Call Me What You Like” is my favorite because I get to do a fun thing where I just talk.

[anthemofgvf]

Behind Closed Doors: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction Series

Part Three

description: when your best friend asks for a favor, that being having his twin move in with you, you're hesitant. you've never really liked him, but you are struggling to meet your rent, so you oblige. who knew with time that you would become more upset with his presence, or upset with the fact you have underlying feelings for him that you don't want to face?

-the masterlist for this series-

trope: enemies to lovers x roommates au!

warnings for this series: alcohol and tobacco usage, explicit content (18+, minors dni), angst, swearing

word count: 6.8k+

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You expected yourself to feel a bit better about living with Jake. Since it had been a month since he moved in with you, nothing much had changed. You two continued to bicker like kids, although there were those sweet moments where you two got along. You were hoping to see his true colors, since they seemed to have yet to be revealed, but to no avail. You were left living with someone who you couldn't stand. No matter how desperately hard you tried to be optimistic about the living arrangement, you found yourself incapable.

Work was always a relief from him. If anyone was able to love their job, you began to more and more once you realized how busywork kept your mind free of Jake. Finally getting into your manager position, you had more responsibility, and that meant less time to daydream and be left alone with your thoughts.

Every so often, yes, you did complain about Jake to Stacie. But you'd never discuss him with Josh. It felt wrong to do so, and when he asked you about how everything was, you'd always be short with him. You'd quickly change the subject to get Josh to go on a long story about his own life and whatever he had going on, and you were able to indulge in Josh's life rather than your own. It was a blissful escape when you'd go out with Josh or go to work, and when you'd arrive home, you'd find yourself ignoring Jake unless he spoke to you first.

Working for the closest thing to a friendship with him seemed harder than you could imagine. He was stubborn - more than you. You gave up on trying to form some sort of relationship with him, and realized that if it was meant to be, then it would happen. Otherwise, you were sick of playing nice with him while he tried to pick on you purposefully to get under your skin.

Jake began to leave the house more often. It was usually around nighttime that he would be gone, and he never announced his departures. But they were probably for gigs, and you had no intention of supporting him, so you didn't mind the lack of communication. There was never a specific day. It was often a surprise to you on whether he'd be home or not, but you appreciated the quiet apartment whenever it wasn't bombarded with his presence. 

You arrived home from work later in the afternoon, which was longer than your usual shifts. Upon entering, you heard Jake's guitar strumming in his room. Although you were a bit tired and ready to wash off the scent of coffee and sweet bakery items, you decided to stride slowly by his bedroom to hear the playing. 

It was better than you expected. Whatever riff or song he was playing, it was pleasing to your ears. You could go further to say you could feel goosebumps prickling your skin, but you didn't want to play with the idea that his musical talent was an amazement to you. 

You stopped at his bedroom door with folded arms and leaned against the frame of it. He hadn't noticed you just yet, and you were grateful that he didn't, because it gave you more time to listen to his playing peacefully. He was sat on the edge of his bed, with his guitar in his lap and the strap hung lazily around his shoulder. He seemed to be wearing a plain grey shirt with black jeans, which you weren't surprised of the attire. You examined the way he played; he mouthed words that you couldn't quite make out, whether it was the song or some sort of coordination of chords. His fingers glided up and down the neck skillfully, along with plucking the strings into a perfect melody. 

"Stop staring at me." Jake muttered to you whilst he continued playing. 

You straightened your posture. "Do you have a problem with me listening to you play?" 

He sighed, flicking his eyes up to you with a blank face. "Just a bit weird that you didn't say anything and just...stood there watching me. Kind of weird, don't you think?" 

You rolled your eyes at his response. "I didn't want to interrupt you, okay? Is that so bad?" 

"Guess not," he shrugged, "well, did you like what you heard?" 

"As much as I hate to stroke your ego, you're actually not too bad. I could even say that I'm actually impressed." You placed a small grin on your face. 

A hint of a genuine smile hit his lips. There was a small moment of silence, but nothing to make you uncomfortable. "Thank you." 

You nodded. "You're welcome." 

"Surprised you'd pay me a compliment. Seems like you never have anything kind to say to me often." 

You dared to step foot into his room, standing before him as he sat on the bed. His eyes walked up your body with each step you took. 

"Well, today I'm feeling a bit nice. Besides, I've never heard you really play, and I've always wondered if you were actually good or not." 

"Your expectations of me have always been low," he chuckled, "but you think I'm good?" 

"If it's important for you to know, then yeah, I think so. Don't like satisfying your ego, but I can't lie and say you're shit at guitar." 

He set his guitar onto the bed and placed his hands on his thighs. "Seems like you're afraid to compliment me because you think I'll act more arrogant." He stood up from the bed and left a small space of proximity between you two. "But I like the change of heart. Nice y/n isn't so bad, even though you still manage to slide in an intentional, mean comment. But, hey, I'll take it." 

"Not a change of heart, just me showing you that I am capable of not being rude to you." 

He pressed his lips together to contain a smile. He found you entertaining, in the sense that you continued to defend your kindness with reasoning that didn't need to be spoken into the air. "What a surprise. Is this just a one-time thing?" 

You shrugged with your bottom lip sticking out. "Who knows. But you're making this a bigger deal than it should be. Just take it lightly, and try not to be so annoying about it, 'kay?" 

He stifled a laugh. "Yes ma'am. Sorry for being so shocked." His words were laced with sarcasm, which only drove your annoyance more.

You held back an eyeroll and decided to walk out of his room to enter your own. You pressed your arms tightly against your chest in an attempt to contain a scoff of irritation. All you let out as you entered your room was a deep sigh and let that be the most you'd let out in frustration. Your skin itched with the image of Jake's eyes lingering on you. There was an unexpected feeling it gave you, but you couldn't depict what it was. You were unsure if it was mere intimidation, or just annoyed that he laid his eyes on you longer than you'd like. Whatever the reason was for you getting so worked up, you were only going to set your mind on taking a shower and removing the scent of your coffee house off of your body. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You received a call from Josh later that night as you sat in your room. Although you were used to talking to Josh nearly every day, a call like this was somewhat unexpected. 

"Hello?" You said into the phone.

"Hey! My night is open. Was wondering if you'd want to go out and grab a few drinks at Fireside? Are you free?"

You sat up from your bed and walked over to your closet. "Yeah! I'd love to do that. Do you want me to meet you over there now? Or will you be a bit late?"

He chuckled. "I suppose I deserve the shit you give me for never being on time. I was planning on leaving now, actually, so no worrying about being there alone waiting for my arrival."

"Good to know," you hummed, "I'll see you there then."

"Wait," he said, "do you mind bringing Jake along? I'd like to see him. Wonder how he's been."

"Like you don't talk to him nearly every day," you huffed a laugh, "I guess I can invite him."

"You two still not getting along? Have you sorted out your differences yet?" He sighed into the phone.

"I don't know," you examined a top that you pulled out from your closet, then putting in back, "we keep going back and forth. It just seems that we keep on hitting a bump in the road that neither of us want to move past. Sometimes, we seem to get along, but those moments are always too good to be true. I'm trying, though. Think my problem is I can never decipher his sarcasm from his mean remarks." 

"Okay, well, I hope that you can play nice with him for the night. I'd like to enjoy my time with two of my best friends."

You smiled at his remark. "I'll try, but no promises. He likes to change his attitude at the drop of a hat. See you in ten!"

You hung up the phone before he could say give any objections, and you continued to flip through your articles of clothing to find something a bit more suited for going out. You were in a pair of blue sweat shorts and a baggy tank top, so there was no way you'd leave your place without changing.

You landed on a low-cut red shirt that cut just above your bellybutton, and a pair of light wash jeans to match. The weather this time of year was somewhat unpredictable, so you grabbed a grey jacket with you just in case.

After slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse with all of your necessities, you walked past Jake's room without a single thought. You were used to not letting Jake know about your whereabouts. So, you found yourself stopped at your front door, exhaling a deep breath. You dragged your feet to Jake's closed door, knocking lightly and waiting for a response.

There was a moment of silence, and before you had the chance to knock again, Jake flung the door open with a confused look.

"I'm, uh, going out with Josh to Fireside. He asked if you wanted to come." You spoke quietly, averting your eyes from him for a moment.

"Or else you wouldn't be inviting me, huh?" He placed his hand onto the doorframe.

"Pretty much," you rocked on your heels, "so, you'll come?"

He walked away from the door, throwing on a pair of shoes and walking past you with a sigh. You rolled your eyes at his ignorance, but nonetheless, he was complying. 

"I'm driving, by the way." He clarified to you before opening the front door. 

"Fine by me." You threw your hands up. 

He led you to his car, which was a modest black Nissan. In your head, you imagined his car to fit his narcissistic demeanor, but it was comforting to know that not all of his possessions were based off of your original impression of him. 

The drive was quiet, even growing an uncomfortable silence between the both of you. The only sound that filled the air was the engine of the car running, along with the soft music coming from the radio. It was nearly inaudible, and you thought about turning up the volume yourself. But, nonetheless, you kept to yourself, and kept your eyes glued outside of the window. 

It wasn't too long until you and him arrived at Fireside. You were thankful that the drive was short, which would lessen the time between you and him. It was hard to find something to talk to him about, due to the fact you weren't interested in anything he had to say. But you didn't want to outwardly tell him that, so you just kept your mouth shut to not cause another issue between the two of you. 

You entered the bar and saw Josh sitting alone, with a beer bottle accompanying his hand. Without checking to see if Jake was close behind you, you walked over to Josh quickly and said hello before you fully reached him. 

"Hey! Good to see you." He said, standing up from the barstool and pulling you into a tight embrace. 

His eyes flicked behind you, and his lips curled into a soft smile. You figured Jake was behind you, so you took a step to the side and allowed them to greet each other. Their hug was tight, somewhat meaningful, from what you examined. Jake wasn't lying when he said him and Josh had a great relationship, and a part of you felt a bit sentimental towards them. Not Jake as an individual, but the twins combined. 

"How's everything been?" He asked him. While waiting for Jake's response, he took a sip of his beer. 

His lips were rested into a grin. "Not too bad. Got some gigs coming up, recording studio sessions - the usual." He shrugged. 

"Heard from that record label yet?" Josh asked him. 

"Not yet, but it's only been a few days. All I can do is wait, but I'm hopeful about it." He shrugged. 

Josh turned to you with his hand placed on your back. "Would you like a drink?" 

You nodded in response, and he called the bartender over and ordered your usual, which was a strawberry margarita. One thing you appreciated about him was that he remembered tons of different things about you, big or small. Like your favorite foods, different factoids about your life, and of course, your choice of drink. 

"What's your poison for the night, Jake?" Josh turned to his brother. 

"Something light. I'm driving." He took a seat next to the stool you were stood at. 

He settled on a Coors Light and Josh took his place next to an empty seat, which left an open one in between the two boys. It was his silent way of him wanting you to be sat between the both of them, and as much as you wanted to decline, you obliged and took a seat with a huff. 

There was small conversation between you and Josh, and Jake would butt in and say something to tear the conversation into three. It was an ungrateful presence, and when you'd respond to whatever he said, Josh made sure to remove the tension with a light-hearted joke or changing the subject entirely. 

As you talked to Josh about your new position at work and the minimal things that were happening in your life, you heard the screeching of a chair being pulled out of its spot. When you stopped your talking, you turned your direction to Jake. 

"I'll be back." He tapped his hands onto the counter and walked away without any other explanation. 

"Don't be gone for too long!" Josh joked, taking another sip of his beer and setting it down. Once Jake was far enough, Josh leaned closer to you. "So, things really haven't changed between you two, huh?" 

"Glad you figured that out, despite what I tell you." You chuckled. "Think we've both kind of silently agreed that things aren't going to be different, so we just leave it be and put up with each other. Tried being nice to him and he made it a big deal, as if I've never once been nice to him." 

"You both seem like stubborn people. Well, I know he is," he chuckled, "but you seem to not want to act differently towards him for whatever internal reason that may be." 

"Guess he just needs to earn my respect, which he hasn't." You extended your finger at him with the hand that was wrapped around your glass, with a cocked brow. "He just needs to give me a reason to change my mind about him, you know? He hasn't done anything redeemable yet. I don't really know what to do." 

"It's not a one-way street. I'm sure he has some work to do, but so do you. I don't really know what happens behind closed doors, but I assume that you're trying to act differently towards him, right?" 

"I'd be lying to you if I said that I was." You said sheepishly. "Just got to give it more time, I guess." 

He shrugged with an understanding nod, unsure of what to follow that with. When his eyes left yours, you followed his sight. Turning your head, you saw Jake with a drink in hand, chatting with a girl. With a sigh, you turned back to Josh, who had a slight look of disappointment. 

"Looks like he ditched us for the night." You laughed lightly. 

"Appears that way. But hey, I don't mind it. Glad to at least have you here." He nudged your arm. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You drank the night away with Josh, talking about numerous things that weren't that important. It was easy to talk to him, especially since anything you said he showed extreme interest in. You liked the dynamic between you two, which made you forget about Jake, and gave you a good time without Jake in the picture. It was the sort of night you expected to happen; you and Josh alone while Jake played the field. It was reminiscent of the first night you met him. 

You couldn't forget that day. Whether a year was a long enough time to keep a memory alive in your mind, you still could picture every moment. You remembered what he wore, how he introduced himself and what he talked about. There was that uncertainty of why you were thinking about that night. Maybe it was to drive your annoyance that you felt for him at this exact moment, or it was the alcohol consuming your system and letting your mind wander as it tends to do. 

Jake eventually came back over to the two of you with a playful grin on his face, resuming his original seat and grabbing the beer that was left for him. You didn't pay too much attention to him, but Josh being Josh, immediately struck up a conversation as a welcome back. You didn't know how much time passed between then and now, but however long it was, you noticed the condensation that laid upon Jake's beer bottle had disappeared, and the ice in your third drink had nearly melted. 

You kept your eyes glued to the liquid that was left in your glass. Their conversation flew through your ears, but you didn't pick up on the conversation and left it incoherent. You began to feel the effect of the alcohol on you, with your body growing warm and feeling airy. You decided to finish the rest of your drink in one go and let that be the last of your night and stick to water. 

"Y/n?" Josh nudged you. 

You turned your head to him. "What? Did I miss something?" 

"You heard nothing we said, huh?" Jake said to you with a chuckle.

"I turned on my selective hearing." You smiled, then turned your direction to Josh. "What were you guys talking about?" 

"Talking about how we’re thinking of heading out." Jake said to you. 

You slowly flicked your direction to Jake. "I didn't ask you, Jacob," you spat, "but why head out? The night is still young, isn't it?" 

"Your perception of time is amazing," he jeered, "but it's 11:30. Don't you have work tomorrow?" 

"I have Sunday's off, thank you very much. Why don't you leave, and I stay here with Josh?" You cocked your head to the side. 

He pressed his lips together with a light look of aggravation, but more contorted with disappointment. He was concocting what to say to you next with little time, flicking his eyes between you and Josh. 

"How about I see you for lunch tomorrow, y/n? Go home, get some rest, and we can continue our hangout tomorrow, yeah?" 

He stood up from his chair and wrapped his arms around you tightly from behind. Once he gave his brother a hug, he said his goodbyes to the both of you and pranced out of the bar. 

"Alright, now can we go?" Jake sighed. 

"If you insist." You dug your hand into your purse to rummage out your wallet. As you were doing so, Jake placed his hand on your wrist. 

"I already paid for our drinks." He rubbed his lips together. "Don't worry about it, let's just go, okay?" 

You shot him a confused look, removing your eyes from his hand that wrapped around your wrist and to his. His touch pulled away slowly, but you could feel every movement. You were unsure of the feeling it sent to you, but ignoring it was best for now, and listening to Jake before you made him upset. 

Once getting into his car, you lolled your head onto the window to feel the cold glass soothe your hot head. Your eyes were shut, and in tune with the music that played softly, and you focused on the relaxation of the drive rather than your mind growing dizzy. 

"You have a good time?" Jake asked you. 

You squinted one eye open at him, noticing he was waiting for a response by looking at you. The red of the stoplight shone over his features, highlighting his dark eyes and the carvings of his face. It was something you never intently observed, such as in broad daylight, but now, you were given the opportunity that you wouldn't usually jump at.

"A splendid time. Loved when you ditched us to go talk to that girl. Staying true to character as always, Jacob." 

He rolled his eyes. "I actually went to the bathroom before she came up to me. Not going to resist talking to a pretty girl. Is that so bad?" 

You scoffed with an open-mouthed smile, shutting your eyes and relaxing your head back to its original spot on the window. "Took you long enough to make your way back over to us. Did you get her number or something?" 

"As a matter of fact, I did." He stated proudly. "We'll see whether or not I follow through with texting her." 

"That's kind of fucked up, you know? Giving a girl the impression that you're interested in her, then deciding that you don't want to be a decent human being and try to get to know her." You scoffed. 

"I don't think I need to explain myself to you, but for your information, you've got me completely wrong." He threw his hand out into the air. 

Your eyes opened. "Alright then. How many girls have you actually taken out on dates, huh? Or are there too many to count?" 

"Why are you acting like this, y/n?" He flicked his eyes at you with a scrunched face. "How much did you have to drink tonight?" 

"I'm not even drunk, just tipsy. Enough for me to feel good, but not enough to not control my surroundings. Don't avoid the question at hand. I'm curious." You gave him a playful smile. 

"I don't know, y/n," he sighed, "I've never really been on a real date, but I'd consider having gone on three or four. That's not counting the times I'll meet someone and end up spending time with them for the rest of the night." He shrugged. 

"I catch your drift. Are you some sort of womanizer? Or is that just the rockstar life you're trying to live up to? I mean, how many of those were dates that you didn't end up sleeping with-" 

He was quick to cut you off. "Why is it so important for you to know how many people I've slept with, huh? Frankly, it's none of your business." He looked at you with a face of disgust. "Don't feel like talking about this with you anymore." 

He was growing tense, with his shoulders straightened out and his neck stiff. You'd never seen him so upset before, and it was slightly entertaining that you were getting under his skin. Maybe if you had a good heart in mind, you would feel sensitive about the situation. Guilt, perhaps. But, with the way he treats you, you think he deserves whatever he feeds you. 

"Someone's a bit sensitive." You giggled to yourself. "Would it make you feel better if I told you how many dates I've been on?" 

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyways." 

"I've been on four, roughly. Nothing too major, and no one special. I don't really date anymore because I'm too busy with work."

"Thanks for sharing. Can we go in, now?" Jake had already put the car in park, and you shot your head up and saw your surroundings. 

You looked at him, who waited for you to step out of the car or give him an answer. His face was close to expressionless, with a light hint of aggravation. Whatever he was waiting for, you opened the door and stumbled out of the vehicle. 

After making your way to your apartment, with Jake close behind, you dragged your feet to your bedroom. Falling face first onto your bed, you groaned into the sheets. Your comforter was soft against your face, and your body began to feel heavy. 

You forced your body to turn over flat on your back. As you made your movements, you saw Jake standing at the doorway. He leaned against the frame with folded arms. 

"Got something to say?" You lifted your head off the bed just enough to see him. 

He opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly with a smile. Whatever he was going to say, he decided to save it, and say something different. "You going to sleep in jeans?" 

"Judging me and my comfort? Quite rude." You snorted. 

You leaned up with a huff, sliding your shoes off onto the ground and crawling to your pillows. He still hadn't moved from his stance at the door, watching your movements and keeping his soft smile plastered on his face as you enveloped yourself in your blankets. If the moon wasn't shining into your bedroom, you wouldn't be able to see his smile. Maybe he was unsure if you noticed how he was looking at you, but whatever his reasoning was, you weren't going to acknowledge it. 

"Gonna watch me sleep, Jacob?" You mumbled with shut eyes. 

He chuckled. He stood off from the doorframe and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just...making sure you're okay, that's all." 

"I don't like when you're nice to me. Feels wrong." You laughed to yourself. "You're giving me the impression that you actually care about my well-being." 

There was silence in the room. You opened your eyes, then turned your head to the doorway. He was no longer there, and your door was cracked open slightly. There was that uncertainty of whether of nor he heard your words. Or, better yet, the unsureness of if you wanted him to hear what you said. You weren't in the right headspace, even if you didn't want to believe it. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

There was a recognizable scent that hit your nose when you woke up. It was a light buttery, bread-like aroma that filled the apartment. 

You turned over with a groan and felt the seams of your jeans pinching into your thighs. Remembering you slept in your clothes of last night, you got yourself up and changed into something a bit more comfortable. Throwing on a pair of plaid jaw string pants and a baggy band t-shirt, you walked out of your room. 

You rubbed your eyes to bring your vision to full light. You saw Jake's bare back at the stove, with light smoke rising from the front of him. He was cooking something, and whatever it was, it smelt good. 

"Good morning." You said groggily to him. 

He set a spatula down and turned his head over his shoulder. "Sleep well?" 

"How'd you guess?" You slumped into the stool at your small island. 

"Your hair's a mess." He chuckled. You flattened your hair out and used the ponytail that rested on your wrist to tie your hair up. After watching you, he turned from you, and kept his focus on the pan in front of him. 

"Thanks for letting me know," you rolled your eyes, "what are you making?" 

You tried viewing the stovetop from behind his figure but were unable to. You looked next to him, and noticed a plate sat beside his right side filled with pancakes. Your eyes lit up at the sight. 

"Pancakes?" You said with light excitement. 

"Yup." He responded flatly. 

You got out of your seat and grabbed a plate, along with a fork, and stabbed into one of the airy cakes. Setting it onto your plate, you brought it over to your seat.

"There's syrup in the pantry, by the way. Do you like butter on your pancakes?" He asked you. 

"Syrup's just fine." You stated plainly. 

He set a steaming cake onto the stack, then turning the stove off and grabbing his own plate. You looked at him with confusion. His nice tone was foreign behavior, and one that made you suspicious. There was no reason for you to be, but you couldn't shake the feeling. 

You decided to ignore it and walk into the pantry, finding the bottle of syrup and taking it graciously to your plate. He brought over the hot plate of pancakes, setting it between you two and placing another one onto your plate before you had a say. You thanked him with a small smile and doused the airy cakes with syrup. 

"Did you sleep well?" You dug the side of your fork into your pancakes in an attempt to cut them. 

"Yeah," he huffed a laugh, "thanks for asking." 

You nodded with a hum and took a bite of your food. They were delicious, but pancakes aren't that hard to mess up. The satisfying taste of the sweet syrup hitting your tastebuds and making the pancakes chewier had you fluttering your eyes shut with gratification. 

"Pretty good, Jake." You said to him. 

He was standing across from you, holding his plate in his hand and eating. He nodded and continued to eat. 

"Still going to lunch with Josh today?" He asked. 

"Thanks for reminding me," you said with appreciation, "I'll have to ask him when he wants to go out. Have yet to text him." 

He hummed in response. He was keeping to himself. No snarky remarks, no quips to make you annoyed by his presence. It was an odd feeling that helped wake you up more. 

"Is there," you began, "is there a reason you're being so nice to me this morning?" 

He finished his food and set his plate into the sink. "Do I need a reason to be nice to you?" 

You shook your head with your bottom lip into a pout. "Just suspicious, that's all." 

He chuckled at your response. He walked over to the fridge and grabbed two water bottles for the both of you. 

He set one of them down in front of you. "Just...woke up in a good mood, I guess. Sorry for freaking you out over my kindness." 

You huffed a laugh as you stood from the stool and walked over to the sink. "I just find it weird. Don't think I've ever woken up and you've actually spoken more than five words to me." 

You began to wash your plate, then setting it into the dishwasher. You jumped onto the corner and snatched your water bottle from the other side of the island, opening it and taking a few drinks of the liquid. 

Jake stood across from you, with his hands sprawled onto the counter behind him and giving you an odd expression. "Well, think it's time we turn over a new leaf, don't you think?" 

"Like, no bickering?" You pretended to wriggle with disgust, which caused him to laugh. "Don't think I'm ready to not hate you yet." 

"You're stubborn, you know that?" He said with a small smile. 

"As are you. What a coincidence." You shrugged, pulling your legs onto the counter and sitting crisscross. "Do you have a gig tonight?" 

"Yup. Performing with two other bands, I think. It's at a pretty nice venue, so I'm a bit excited." 

You nodded. "Did you invite that girl from last night?" 

He rolled his eyes in return. You couldn't miss the chance of picking at him a bit, because after all, it was entertaining to you. 

"Maybe," he shrugged with a knowing smirk, "so I’d like it if you didn’t come." 

"And don't bring her over tonight. Deal? Besides, I wasn't planning on seeing you perform, anyways." You quipped back. 

He nodded with a sigh, pushing off the counter behind him and making his journey back to his bedroom. You followed his movements only for a moment, then hopping off the counter and starting your day. 

You texted Josh, who said that he would be able to meet you for lunch around 12, so that left most of your morning free. You weren't sure how to fill your morning, other than to relax in bed or tidy up the apartment as you pleased. Getting ready knocked about an hour and a half of waiting time off your shoulders, so now, you were left with a little under two hours to yourself. There was always sparking up a conversation with Jake, but you didn't feel the need to. Or, necessarily, the want to. 

You were left alone with your thoughts, though, which was something you never liked. You always appreciated being busy to keep your mind occupied and not on anything particular. But, with your time off, and the recent events, you sat on your bed and ran through everything. 

The thing that stuck to mind first was Jake’s change of behavior this morning. Sure, it could've been a periodical moment, and he'd go back to being his snarky self later. But, leaving him alone would keep you from venturing that idea any further. There was always reasoning behind his actions, whether he wanted you to know that or not, and it picked at your brain agonizingly. Just like Josh said, there was an internal reason for your hatred. There was the obvious answer, which was you never liked him. His reckless behavior, matched with his egotistical persona that constantly irked you. His first impression always stuck to you, so when he changed his attitude directed towards you, you were left to assume it was for his own personal gain. 

But the negative mindset you had on him shouldn't be as much of a main focus as you make it out to be. Sure, you didn't like him, but you're stuck with him by choice. He seemed to be trying to earn your respect, which you appreciated, but it still shadowed your thoughts with suspicion. 

When it came time for you to meet Josh for lunch, instead of meeting you at your usual spot, he asked you to meet at a deli nearby. You obliged, and upon arrival, he was already waiting for you outside. You always adored the platonic relationship between the two of you. You were quite fond of your friendship with him, and his twin was never going to get in the way of your bond. It was a sacred relationship that only made sense to have with him. 

"Nice to see you on time." You smirked at him. 

He chuckled, leading you instead the small shop. "Well, I was a bit excited for this little lunch date. Would like to know what happened after I left." 

You shot him a skeptical look. "What do you mean by that? Did Jake say something to you?" 

"No, I didn't ask him about it," he chuckled, "but I'm just curious." 

You placed your order before Josh and waited for him to finish his own. 

"Nothing happened, I guess. He was just acting unusual." You shrugged. "You know, nice?" 

He threw his head back with a faux shocked expression. "My brother was nice to you? Who would've guessed?" 

You playfully pushed his shoulder, causing him to chuckle and wear a permanent smile. "Listen, it was weird for me, okay? I mean, he waited for me to get comfortable in my bed before he went to his room. And he even woke me up with pancakes this morning. Just makes me think he's trying to get something out of me." 

"Or, he's just being a good person," he argued, "but it does seem a little weird, I suppose, considering yours and his's relationship. It's random but makes sense." 

"How does him being nice to me make any sense, Josh? He doesn't like me, and I don't like him. That's how it's always been."

"And would you like to keep it that way?" 

You huffed a sigh. As yours and Josh's names were called, you picked up your small platter containing a sandwich and took a seat outside with Josh. 

"I don't know," you shrugged, "I just think it's better this way. It's already aggravating enough to try and change my mind about him. He's always just rubbed me the wrong way." 

"I think you just need to accept that he's trying to show you who he really is, because he's becoming comfortable with you, and not just putting on a facade because he feels the need to. If anyone knows him and how he is, it's me." 

You nodded at his response, taking a bite of your sandwich. "Guess I'm just a little nervous as to what that means, in an odd way. Like, I'm afraid of the embarrassment of being wrong about him. I don't know if that makes sense..." You placed your hand onto your head.

"No, no I understand," he reassured, "and it's okay to feel that way about him. Just don't shut him out. If you see him opening up, try and embrace it. He's trying to make a better impression of himself for you, so do the same for him. You'll find yourself miserable if you just find his kindness annoying." 

"I guess it's my fault for being so stubborn. Like you said, he's trying to make things better, so I shouldn't dismiss that and let my impression of him get the best of me." 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

After your lunch date with Josh, you arrived back at home to see Jake walking out of his room with his guitar case in hand. 

"Leaving early for the gig?" You said to him. 

"There's something called rehearsal before every performance, so yeah, I'm leaving early." He wore a light smirk to show his sarcasm. 

You nodded. "Good luck." 

He worse a confused expression, but then rested it into a content one. "Thanks." 

He walked past where you stood to the door, which you followed with your eyes. 

"Jake?" 

He turned to you. "What?" 

"I never thanked you for breakfast this morning. I appreciate it. It was...a nice gesture." 

Something about the way he looked at you with a soft expression made your words feel more heartfelt than you intended. You were just trying to take Josh's advice, along with his, and the approach gave you an odd feeling. You were pushing down everything you felt towards him and showing your true character. Showing him you had the ability to be indifferent to your own feelings of him and pay homage to his actions. 

"It's not a big deal," he scrunched his eyebrows together with his sly smirk, "but I appreciate it. Don't expect it to be an everyday thing, though." He pointed his finger at you. "Anything else, or can I leave?" 

You folded your arms over one another. "You can go." 

A smile rested on your face, one that ran to your cheeks and made them burn. He left without another word, and you locked the door behind him. 

As much as it felt awkward to be nice to Jake, it wasn't a terrible start, nor was it as bad as you imagined. You two just had to get over that awkward stage of uncomfortableness, such as being uncertain of how to show your kindness to one another. But you were getting somewhere, right?

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

-part four-

series taglist: @jakekiszkasmommy @anythingforjtk @gold-mines-melting @twistedmelodies @ageofhearingloss @classicsneverdie @lmaooharry @raviolilegs @mydarlingdanny @iheartjakekiszka @edtvdf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvf23 @flo-gvf @madneedshelp @carlyfleet @pinkunicornsandbluecows @joshysgirl @jasminesworldd @alwaysonthemend @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @takenbythemadness

other tags: @songbirds-sweet @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @fallonfatality @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @loverleaverslayerbeliever @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @beckahvanfleet @threadthatssacred @indigofallingsky @audgeppp

[roryzlittles1ut]

Euronymous head canons (again) and ofc it’s Rory Culkin 🧍‍♀️

SFW:

He walks around with his hair tied up (omfg). Literally most of the time he has his hair up in a ponytail or a messy bun as he wears his corpse face paint.

Blasts his eardrums with loud metal music. Half of the times, he complains how his ears hurt in a whiny but deep voice.

“What did you say?! I can’t hear, sweetheart! N-no I didn’t. I didn’t..maybe? Fine, I did maybe loose my hearing.”

He loves cuddling you while watching a horror movie (which is canon bc he did it in the goddamn movie). He thinks you’d get scared easily, so he holds you close.

Idk if I said this in the first one, but he takes you to his concerts. As he’s playing his guitar, he wouldn’t look at anyone but you. He’d smirk and wink at you, making a little sexual hand gesture.

He tells you how much he misses Pelle (Dead). He doesn’t like telling his friends or band members how he actually feels, so sometimes he just vents to you.

Matching Halloween costumes (guys I need this so bad). One Halloween, you guys would go as two skeletons as you guys just go to a bar and make out most of the time.

He might walk around the house shirtless (idk if I said this). But he just might walk around shirtless and stares at you with a tiny smirk.

He gives you quick cheek kisses just randomly. He always wants you to know he loves you, so he’d just kiss you on the cheek.

NSFW:

He definitely takes photos of you guys having sex, especially when he cums on you. He loves looking at the photos over and over again. He knows he won you when he looks at his cum all over you.

Public sex. There could be a day where you guys are at a bar and he gets really horny, so he grabs you and takes off his belt, and takes out his dick. He slowly pulls down your bottom (whatever you wanna wear) and fucks you. He doesn’t do it rough, since he doesn’t want it to be obvious.

“Fuck, baby. No no no, shh..stay quiet. Stay quiet. I don’t want anyone seeing or hearing us..”

After you guys fucked, he won’t stop talking about it to his band members, especially Varg since he gets all the pussy in his opinion. He won’t ever let it go.

He just might buy you lingerie, just because he loves your body, and he loves how sweet and petite you look. He doesn’t even take it off half the time when he fucks you, he just moves the panties so your pussy/cock/asshole is exposed and fucks you from there.

Did I say he fucks you with his corpse face paint on? Idk I think I did but I just had to mention it. When you guys are making out, the face paint smudges onto your face, and he thinks it’s so hot.

He probably sends you dick pictures, expecting explicit photos from you. He really wants to see you, and tease you too.

Aftercare! He gives you a nice, long shower and tells you how good you were for him. Sometimes, you guys just sit in the shower or tub and just cuddle. He falls asleep in the bath, since he’s so exhausted from that intense moment with you.

“You did so good. God, that was so much fun. I didn’t..fuck you dumb, right? Not too hard? No? Good.”

[somnambulic-thing]

nothing like a storm

Eddie Munson x OFC Rating: E (there will be smut, 18+) Words: 10k read on ao3 no upside down, Goth!OFC Warnings: mention of child neglect, mention of alcoholism ||fluff, angst, arguing, making up/happy end, established relationship, slice of life, first Ily, piv, oral>f, teasing, edging, fingering, rough sex, soft sex, affectionately mean sex (I guess)||

Summary: Eddie's girlfriend got stuck in a rainstorm on her way to his trailer and he was trying to find her, unaware that this storm would be the most significant weather event of their lives. When he finally pulled Finch into his van, more than the sky started to unravel.

1

It had been a long day.

A long day of mowing lawns and raking leaves and Eddie was exhausted. But the two things that changed after Rick had been locked up were that good weed was much harder to come by, which meant a decrease in income and that Eddie had discovered that he was actually not bad at gardening, even though it had turned out that being a small town undercover weed farmer was an unrealistic feat for him to take on alone. But the one thing Eddie always had been was creative. Making the best out of a subpar situation was his second language. So he had started knocking on doors, hanging out flyers and to his absolute surprise, had scored one gig with a wealthy old couple and their ginormous lawn. They had moved to Hawkins to retire recently, which was good for Eddie because they weren’t fluent in the small-town gossip yet. They also paid well. Far more than he had expected. Which was very very welcome, because it wasn’t even half a year left until graduation and he could use every damn cent if… well if. Word got out that the Munson kid actually had some skills and was a rather friendly guy and so it came to be that Eddie worked three to four different properties on the weekends. Today though, it had felt like double that amount and only the generous tip from his last client made him not want to quit that shit altogether. Eddie lay on his bed, head propped up against the wall, a guitar on his stomach strumming along to some of his favourite tunes droning into his ears over his headphones. Time to play and practice had been sparse lately and he utilized every time he could find but it wasn’t as much fun as it could be when your arms felt sore from landscaping most of the day. A slow lazy evening with Finch was all he wanted today. He wanted to stay in bed, he wanted pizza and Finch’s fingers massaging his scalp, playing with his hair while she told him about her week, with some music playing in the background. It had been far too long since the last fuck that hadn’t been rushed and squeezed in between things but his legs were really killing him and he never had been good with just laying back. So, If he got lucky, Finch would read to him while he strummed some more on his unplugged guitar and he’d probably be out like a light before midnight. The jaws of half of Hawkins would hit the floor if they knew how the Freak preferred to spend the majority of his evenings these days. As the current song ran out, Eddie could hear a loud noise from outside. He turned his head to the window and wondered when it had gotten so dark. He put down his headphones and guitar and went to look out the window. The sky had opened and unleashed all the water there was in the world. Thunder was rolling over the trailer park, the sound made the fine hairs on his neck stand up. “Shit,” he hissed, knowing that by now Finch would be on her way over. On her bike. “Shit!” Eddie stepped into his pants that lay next to his bed and pulled some clean clothes from a drawer, put his jacket on and on his way out grabbed a towel from the small bathroom. He shielded the clothes from the rain by tucking them under his shirt as he sprinted to his van, praying that on this one occasion, Finch hadn’t taken a different way out to the trailer park than she usually did. Driving slowly and carefully while the windshield wiper worked hard against the relentless rain, he kept an eye out for his girlfriend, chewing his bottom lip with worry. It couldn’t have been that long ago since he had left the trailer park, but it felt like forever until a dark silhouette finally emerged from the endless haze in front of him. “There you are,” he huffed out relieved and pressed the horn in his signature rhythm, making another mental note about the many advantages of dating a Goth girl. Through to downpour, he could see Finch lift her head and wave. He stopped next to her, rolled down the window just enough to call out “Side door.” and closed it again.

When he slid the door open, Finch handed him her bike. “Oh god, you are saving my life,”

“I live to serve you, milady. Now get into the damn car.”

As he made sure to safely stow her beloved bicycle in the back, the door closed behind him and he smiled as a stream of punched-out curses quietly flowed from Finch’s mouth. He turned back to her and paused:

It was almost infuriating, how the list of states in which she was just absolutely gorgeous kept growing and growing. Cold and drenched, long black hair sticking to her face and neck in strands that almost looked ornamental, a red hot blush high on her cheeks while small streams of water ran down her soft skin and pooled a little in the hollow of her collar bones. Like a siren he had just pulled out of the vast and violent sea; he was just mesmerized. Finch was pushing her hair up her forehead, the black liner around her eyes smudged and runny and she beamed at him like the autumn skies didn’t just try to viciously drown her. “I’m dripping all over your floor,” she said, shaking her arms and flinging drops of water everywhere. “And I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Tilting her head slightly, she smiled in that sultry way that made him weak and crawled over to him until their faces were only inches apart. “This is just what you do to me, Munson.” She cupped his face in her cold wet hands, a stray drop running down his jaw and neck, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie eagerly grabbed her wrists, feeling goosebumps under his fingertips and instead of leaning in as he wanted to, pulled back. “You’re freezing, Finch. Christ.” He pressed another quick kiss to her mouth and moved to the front, grabbing the bundle of warm clothes from the passenger seat. “Here,” he handed her the towel first, “I brought you dry stuff, so you don’t catch some nasty cold that you pass on to me because I can’t stay away from you for more than five minutes.”

“As altruistic as ever. Thank you.” Finch pressed her face into the towel and groaned, then dried her hands and began to peel out of her wet coat while speaking with a casualness that made the words coming out of her mouth even more surreal. “Fuck, have I told you that I love you?” Suddenly, Eddie’s heartbeat was pounding in his throat. He’d imagined those words in her voice before so many times, was equally scared of them as he craved to hear them and now it had just happened, in the back of his van while the world was drowning and she wasn’t even looking at him. “Ahm, no,” his brain said on autopilot. “No, never.”

The soaked coat dropped on the floor with a wet and heavy thump and Finch’s head shot up, eyes slightly widened and full of– what? Regret? Embarrassment? “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Eddie nodded. She looked at him for a few more moments before speaking again. “Was that… ahm, bad timing or is the overall message the problem?” “Huh,” he mumbled out of his stupor, “What problem?” Finch crossed her arms in front of her stomach, wringing her hands that still looked so cold with red knuckles and fingertips. “Eddie, you suddenly look more in despair as I’m sure I look dishevelled–” “No, you’re beautiful!” Fuck. What was he doing? This wasn’t supposed to be this awkward. “I’m sorry— I…” “It’s alright,” she said with a careful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Can you hand me those? I’m really cold.” Finch pointed at the bundle of clothes in his hands and he snapped into motion again. This he could do, handing over clothes was an easy enough task. “Yeah, sure. Of course.” She carefully placed the clothes on a cardboard box next to her and started to take off her drenched Siouxie Souix shirt; not without a little difficulty as the wet fabric stuck to her skin. Eddie’s mind went a mile a minute while his sublime girlfriend undressed in front of him and still, there were no words, not even an inkling of what to say or do and the fear that his silence was ruining everything while he was pondering if she’d just given him the greatest gift or if she had cursed him was almost overwhelming.

“Shit… this… stupid…” Finch sighed, struggling to take off her wet jeans. “Eddie?” she asked almost timidly and he hated himself. “I’m stuck.” “Come here… let me…” She had pushed the pants past her hips herself and Eddie carefully hooked his fingers under the soaked black fabric and started to pull. “Can you lift your hips a little?... Yeah, like that.” He tried to find her eyes with his but Finch had focused her gaze on her knees and as his hands slid over her kneecaps she turned her face towards the ceiling. He’d fucked up.

Finch sighed in relief when he finally pulled the pants off her ankles and threw them onto the pile with her other things, knocking over one dirty boot. She was shivering, rubbing her thighs with her palms. “Did it hurt?” he asked uselessly, sure he saw the answer to what he really wanted to ask on her face and the way she pulled the towel to her chest and lap as soon as her legs were bare. “No, all good,” a sad smile. “Was just sticky.” Of course, I fucking love you too! his mind roared. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because in less than six months an era came to an end and he wasn’t stupid enough to tell himself that staying together would be easy. Because love didn’t conquer all - he’d seen it countless times - but it sure as hell would rip your chest wide open and leave you bleeding on the floor when you let it. And a part of him had hoped that he could cushion the blow somehow. Make it less jarring, by not stating the obvious when he walked into his room and Finch was spread out on his bed, her legs crossed up on the wall, feet twitching in the rhythm to whatever was coming out of his headphones while she hummed along so out of tune that sometimes the song was unrecognisable. Or when he’d planned his escape from the country that one time she’d asked him to trim her sidecut and he had messed up badly and then she had started to laugh, for fucks sake, her loud wild contagious laugh and he had ended up laughing so hard himself that he’d gotten the hiccups.

So yeah, he wanted to grab her and kiss her and say corny, sticky, filthy things into her ear and make her wet in a different way, wanted to feel her skin turn warm again under his touch and tell her that he wasn’t terrified that knowing now that she loved him too would make it hurt so much more when their lives broke apart eventually. But he was terrified. “Do you need anything else?” he asked like he was working at a checkout and hauled himself to the driver's seat when she shook her head while taking off her bra behind the towel. It felt like aeons passed while she changed; Eddie repressed the urge to check on her in the mirror and watched the water stream down his windshield instead. Finch let out a sigh when she finally slumped down into the passenger seat. She’d chewed on her lip and there was a little dot of blood at the corner of her mouth. He knew it was a cliche but he loved to see her in his clothes. It felt warm and familiar and like home, his little Goth in his flannel; he’d always loved red on her and there were so few occasions to enjoy it. But he’d made an effort to not stupidly stare at her when she appeared and looked out of his window instead. You’re an idiot, Munson, he thought and opened his mouth at last. “So–” “It’s alright, Eddie.” Finch looked at him with sad eyes. “You can drive me back home.” “What?”

“It is what it is. I understand–” He didn’t mean to laugh and it sounded harsh and wrong in his ears, “No, I don’t think you do.” “You haven’t even looked at me since I sat down.” Eddie looked at her now, trying to ignore his racing heart, the stupid urge to just kiss her. “Because it, ahm, doesn’t help with the thinking to look at you like this.” “Ok, yeah, you’re right, I don’t understand, just–”

“It’s a big deal for me, ok?” Finch huffed a surprised laugh and looked at her hands. “So I’d hoped…”

“And, ahm, I am stumbling over my own fucking feet right now, terrified that I am colossally ruining everything.” “That’s a big word. A little, maybe…” “Don’t!” he said through his teeth, face hard, “please don’t fuck with me right now, Finch.” “Eddie, relax. It’s ok. I'm not expecting you to say it just because I did. This isn't a transaction... if that's not how you feel then that's just life, I'd just like to know if we're driving to your place or if I'm going back to mine. Or you drive me back and we talk about it tomorrow–” 

“You still don’t understand.” Finch turned in her seat, facing him fully, her brows drawn together. “You know, I think my mindreading abilities struggle with your thick skull, so just say what you want to say, please?” “I never want you to go back to your place ever again…” he flinched, “shit... that sounded like I'm kidnapping you... but it's fucking true. I don't want there to be a your place and a my place anymore but I don't fucking know if that's a possible scenario… like ever.”

“Why do you never say anything?” “Because I’m scared of you telling me to fuck off.” Finch looked upset and tapped his leg whit an accusatory finger. “Am I that shitty of a girlfriend to make you even consider this a possibility?”

“No,” he groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. “Then why?” “Because,” Eddie kicked off his muddy sneakers and pulled his legs up on his seat, “you have big plans, Finch. With your art school and all the travelling you always daydream about. And you absolutely should do all of those things but I… I have no idea how I could follow you–” “Eddie… you have big plans too—”

“Unless, uhm, there is an estranged grandfather out there for me too who leaves me with a surprise trust fund when he croaks I have no idea how I can keep up with you because I’ll be busy working my ass off making rent and shit before I get even close to where I want to be.”

He felt shitty as soon as he said it. It sounded petty but the truth was, that since she had almost kicked in his door with the letter from her late grandfather's lawyer a little short of a year ago, the outlook on things had changed. One day they were just two poor kids making the most out of a little and the next Finch had the key to a door he couldn’t follow her through no matter how many lawns he mowed.

She was silent for a moment, jaw tight and brows low. “I had no idea this was weighing on you like that… I mean you never want to talk about what comes after school, not really, anyway. I know you talk to Steve about it–” “Christ, Harrington!”

“He never tells me details,” she shrugged. “So what, does that mean?” “What does what mean?” She waved her hand, pointing between them, black nail-polish chipped on the two nails she tended to chew on when she was nervous. “This… whole situation here.” “Nothing! I… listen, I just had an exhausting day trying to make some money to put to the side for… you know, after school. And I miss you because shit‘s been so busy lately that I feel we never really just talk anymore like we used to, you know? All of that is in my head and then, uh, I find myself looking for you in the fucking flood of the century hoping you're ok and then you get in here, looking like a nymph, or a goddamned siren and just casually drop this like… like you mean it–”

“I mean it.” Eddie groaned and pressed his forehead to his knees, muffling the whine in his voice at least a little. “What I’m saying is I wasn’t prepared.” Finch laughed, “Did you want a formal announcement? In a fancy envelope? Should I’ve contacted the press?” “Fuck off.” He couldn’t help but smile a little and looked up at her again.

“Eddie… I’m spending all my free time with you, I tell you that you’re my favourite person at least once a day, I wear your underwear and not just during thunderstorms.”

Finch had lifted a hand in front of his face and counted with her fingers. “I make you mixtapes, try to come to as many Corroded Coffin shows as I can, I draw your stupid face on every surface I get my hands on - it’s a little embarrassing, actually - I leave you silly little notes with hearts and shit everywhere and I punched a bitch last year because she insulted you in front of me and got suspended for two weeks and I don’t even want to get into all the things we do to each other when we’re naked and you’re telling me you weren’t prepared to hear me say that I love you? Ouch?” Something ruptured inside Eddie's stomach and flooded him with warmth with a bitter layer of guilt on top. He pinched one eye close and tried to explain. “But you also call me your best friend all the time.” “Duh,” she rolled her eyes and leaned forward, “that is because you are my best friend, Munson.” The contrast between her voice - peak annoyed and angry - and her face - soft and caring - was astounding. “And you know what, I think that is the best part–” Eddie put down his legs, grabbed Finch by the wrist and pulled her over to his seat and into his lap, wrapped his arms around her back, his face buried into the bend of her neck, holding her like he was scared she could realize this very moment what an idiot he was and flee out into the rain. Which a part of him still was. Finch was tense at first but then settled against his chest, one hand on his back and the other nestled in his hair. “You alright, Eds?”

“I love you too,” he spoke his lips pressed against her skin, “so much.”

He could feel her chest expand with a deep breath and he pulled away, anxious to see her face.

She smiled. “Christ… you really scared me for a minute. Started to think I’ve been hallucinating this for all this time.” “Yeah, guess I’m somewhat of an asshole.”  “No,” Finch leaned down and kissed him, soft and sweet. “You’re caring and kind and you make me laugh and you’re safe and you’re loving and sometimes fucking impossibly dramatic in your passionate way…” “Well, yeah,” he laughed, head spinning a little, “you make being difficult very easy sometimes.” “I have no idea what that means,” Finch laughed with him.

“Neither do I,” he sighed and ran his hands up her back. “I’m just glad I didn’t fuck this up.” Finch tapped his forehead and he blinked in surprise. “Ouch again, when you think that all that it takes to scare me off is one awkward fight.” “You told me to drive you home!!! I almost perished with the shock.” She rolled her eyes again and kissed him, longer this time, and the warmth spread further inside him. “I still want you to drive me home, I’m still cold and I love the sound of rain on the roof of the trailer.” “You calling my place home now?” a wide smile spread over his face. “Been calling it that to myself for a while now.” She brushed a wild strand of hair off his face, voice serious. “I’m sorry when I gave you the feeling that you couldn’t keep up… or whatever. I Never even considered that; in my mind, you’re always right by my side.”

“Yeah, uh, how about you don’t make me cry right now because I’m already seeing shit far out of my windshield as it is.” “Ok,” she kissed his nose and got up from his lap. “Home, hot shower, then making you cry. Sounds like a good plan.” Eddie nodded and chuckled. “And I could eat something.” “Pizza?” “Fuck, I love you.”

2

The drive back to the trailer park had been quiet, but not in the mind-numbing awful way like after she had told Eddie that she loved him. They had that figured out pretty quickly when they had become friends; how to be in silence with each other. And there were many different kinds of silence to explore. There was the silence Eddie needed after his gigs. Still strumming with every fibre of his body from the high it gave him even if the crowd was only five guys and a deaf dog, he needed time to process, to go over every song in his mind to assess the parts that needed more practice or filter out those which sounded ok during rehearsals but didn’t work during live shows. There was the silence Finch needed when an idea struck her and she had to sketch it out or write it down. This could happen in any situation - during meals, in the middle of a movie or even on Eddie’s lap with him thrusting deep inside her - and while it had confused him in the beginning, especially during sex, he had learned to embrace it. More so, it had made him aware of the thrill it gave him to delay coming as long as possible.

The silence in the van on the ride home had been a space to adjust, for both of them. They both knew that the current fight had blown over - different than the storm outside - but that it had laid open something big and pressing, something that was potentially threatening their little capsule of adolescent romance. They rarely ever fought - they bickered, had their disputes and got annoyed with each other, sure - but something that felt this high stakes hadn’t happened often. Maybe not ever until today. Finch kept glancing at him, elbow on the windowsill, chin propped on his knuckles; just watching Eddie exist was one of her favourite things to do. It was rare to find someone who was as bluntly and unapologetically himself as Eddie was. There were many days when being her true self felt safer when she was with him than when she was on her own. She knew this was a problem but one day after the other, right? It gnawed on her, that he had held back all of what she had just learned for such a long time. It wasn’t like him and it had scared her. Eddie parked as close to the trailer as he could and they ran up the stairs giggling and howling while the wind drove the rain on mercilessly. The silence was over again and they both felt needy. After adjusting came healing and they both healed faster in each other's arms. The nagging feeling inside her chest abate when as soon as the door had fallen closed, Eddie took her wrist and spun her around, pulling her close to his chest a grin spread over his face, dark eyes fixating on her. She never got enough of this. “You want some company in the shower?” Finch wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. “You smell like you took one recently.” She got up on her toes and pressed her face up his neck, inhaling his scent mixed with his soap that made her think of evergreen forests. “You smell so nice… hmm.” She let her lips ghost over the skin of his throat up to his jaw where she settled, pressing her lips to gently suck on his skin. “Uhm, yeah, no way you’re showering alone now, Christ.” 

Her skin still was so cold that the water stung on her upper arms and thighs, but Eddie wrapping his arms around her from behind, kissing up her shoulder to her ear, distracted her from the feeling. They stayed until the warm water ran out, kissing, touching, squeezing, running their hands over all their favourite parts until they both had fully mapped each other out once more. Finch loved to cup Eddie’s sharp jaw, to slide further up, slicking his wet hair back as the water streamed down his face, eyes closed and lips parted. This was home too, being here with him, naked, soft and sensual and close. This was a need different to lust, a desire that didn’t burn white and hot but was not less urgent. He had fucked her against those shower walls many times before, but there were no words needed between them to know what they both needed in this moment. She felt it in the way he touched her.

When they were dry and dressed again, the rain had gone from pouring to a strong drizzle. They watched it from the window in Eddie’s room, as they discussed what kind of pizza to get, still unable to keep their hands off the other one. “Okay, alright,” Eddie sighed in feigned defeat, pulling her close to his chest again, “a few olives won’t kill me, I hope.” “You don’t have to eat them, you know? Just pick them off and I’ll take them off your hands gladly.” Eddie scrunched up his nose. “But you can still taste them after… intense little fuckers,” he chuckled.

It hadn’t been too long after they had started to hang out that this chuckle had made her realize that she would stand no chance of not falling for this goofy antsy guy who gathered outcasts around him to take that very title away from them. Finch had to kiss the corner of his smirking mouth. “Or,” she said still in kissing distance, “you could tell them to only put them on one side of each pizza.”

“Ohh,” eyes big and wondrous, “that is a smart idea. You’re a smart woman… why did we never think of that before? All the suffering…” Finch snorted and Eddie kissed her, long and soft, his arms around her almost a little too tight but sometimes -like today- that wasn’t close enough. It was hard to pull away and even then their foreheads still stayed together. “So, uhm, you get cosy and warm in bed and I get us something to bite? I’m getting really hungry.” “Hmm… me too… better you get going.” “Yeah,” he stole a quick kiss, his hands wandering up her sides, “Otherwise, we’ll end up eating at midnight again…” “Or, hear me out,” Finch almost purred, “I come with you. Just to supervise the nasty olive business… Not because I don’t want to let you go…” “Good!” Eddie straightened up and smirked, “that makes everything way easier. Put on some shoes!” He gave her a little clap on the ass as she followed his orders and another tingling kiss before they stepped out into the rain again.

This ride wasn’t quiet; there was music and laughter and every now and then Finch or Eddie turned up the volume on their favourite parts, singing along, loud and out of tune. The upside to being used that people stared at you on the streets no matter what you did other than looking different than the average shop window suggested was that you could let yourself go like that. Two freaks out on a rainy Saturday evening, blasting the streets of downtown with the wildest shit their by now pretty mingled tape collection had to offer, living their best life. People had started calling them fire and brimstone when they officially had started dating and while they acted all annoyed and grumpy on the outside, they had loved it from the first second. There had been no question that Finch was fire and Eddie brimstone. On a trip to Indianapolis to visit Finch’s cousin and - really - just to get out of Hawkins for a few days, Eddie had pulled Finch into every record shop they had passed. In the last one Eddie had hyperfocused on the crates of records as in the shops before, while Finch had rummaged through a box of merchandise with a big discount sticker on it. “EDDIE!” she had shrieked and startled not only Eddie but the other three customers and the very stoned shopkeeper. “What?” he had jogged over to her. “Did something bite you? Do I need to slay a monst–” his eyes had gone wide and a grin crept over his face as she held the loot into his face. “No. Way.” He’d held the patch into the air like a precious artefact; the alchemic symbol for sulfur - brimstone - inside an upturned triangle, the alchemic symbol for fire. “Is there another one?” he’d asked and started to rifle through the box himself, soon impatiently throwing out shirts and patches left and right until he found a second one with a cry of triumph. They had been a few coins short for both patches and a record Eddie had searched for months, but the inebriated salesman either didn’t care or wanted them out of the shop and let them have everything for less. They had spent the evening listening to the new record, fucking on her cousin's couch and with Finch reading to Eddie while he stitched the patches to his vest and her favourite jacket.

Now, while they waited for their pizza, Finch played with Eddie’s patch that was just on the hem of the vest right above his left hip, running her fingers over the raised lines. “You feeling me up, sweetheart?” “Something like that, Sulfur.” Eddie turned to her, fast. “What did I tell you about calling me that in public?” “That I better be prepared for dingy-back-alley sex?” “Exactly,” he grinned, then he rolled his eyes and sighed. “If I wasn’t sore as hell and starving right now, you seductive demon…”

Five minutes later they were on their way back with their pizza loaded. They stopped at a gas station; filling the tank and grabbing a six-pack before Eddie broke a new record in scaring the shit out of Finch with his driving. Finch jumped out of the car as soon as it had come to an abrupt halt. “YOU MANIAC!” Eddie almost fell out of his door laughing, “YOU LOVE ME!” “DON’T WEAPONIZE MY LOVE FOR YOU, MUNSON!” Finch had rounded the car with the sixpack in hand, shoving it at Eddie who struggled to keep it together and juggled the beer and the pizza cartons while Finch got her wet clothes from the back of the van. “HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH ATROCITIES!” Somewhere in the trailer park, someone joined the conversation. “Shut the fuck up, assholes!” “Rude,” Eddie deadpanned and Finch dropped her boots laughing.

Back inside, Finch started to throw her wet clothes over the shower door while Eddie carried everything to his room. “Uhm, hey, babe?” he called from next door. “Yeah?” “Would you mind if I invited Max over for some pizza?” Eddie appeared in the bathroom door behind her. “Not sure she has been eating enough lately. Her mom had a rough couple of weeks.” “No, I don’t mind. There’s always room for another stray, right?” Eddie leaned in, kissed her cheek loudly and vanished around the corner. Finch smiled and wiped at her wet cheek. “God, you’re so precious…”

There was some shuffling and then a pause. “Mayfield! It’s Eddie —  Uhm, no, why would we scream outside? — Yeah of course that was irony — uh-hm —  No, we were just messing around, don’t worry —  uh-hm —  listen, we have pizza, do you want some? Still hot, I hope —- Yeah, just come over — You don’t have to bring anything, your delightful self will suffice — No really, we have two large pizza pies — Ok, see you in a bit.” Finch had moved to the living room mid-call and hopped to sit on the kitchen counter and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s head when he hung up the phone. “You’re a good man.” “I’m parting with a few slices of pizza, nobody will declare me a saint over that,” he moved between her legs and run his hands up her thighs. “You’re not usually rejecting flattery.” “And you’re talking too much…” Eddie moved close bit her bottom lip and held onto it for a moment. Then he licked the spot before he kissed her; open-mouthed, tongue finding hers. Finch moaned and held onto his shoulders, surprised by the sudden onslaught.

“Wha a’e yu d’in?” she asked, not quite willing to break the kiss. “I must be doing it wrong if you have to ask… let me try something else,” he brushed her hair off her shoulder and licked a long stripe up her neck. The attention went straight to her groin. “Eddie…”

The breath of his chuckle tickled on her wet skin, “I love it when you sound so turned on by so little.” “Max just stepped out her front door… why are you turning me on now?” “You started it.” Again, he licked into her mouth, holding her in place with his hand on her neck and the other one cupping her breast under her shirt. “I what…?” she whispered, head spinning. “Sulfur?” “Fucking hell, Munson… ” There was a knock on the door and Eddie smirked like the devil himself. “Pull yourself together. We have a visitor.”  Eddie opened the door and spread his arms, “Maxine, my dear friend! Come in, come in, out of that ghastly weather into the cosy parlor!” Finch pressed her thighs together to snuff out the sparks he had just lit and grumbled over how Eddie just flicked the switch between horny tease and silly inn-keeper. The never-ending wonders of dating a top-tier Dungeon Master.  “Hi guys,” Max said, rolling her eyes at Eddie then bowed. “Thank you for the kind invitation to the feast, Eeedwaaaard.” “Okay, yeah, Max, alright, Max, very sorry, Max.” “I liked it,” Finch said and got off the counter. “You both sound very royal like that,” she offered and got two middle fingers in return.

3

“Remind me to never feed you again, Max.” Eddie pouted while Max and Finch not only high-fived but mocked him by popping olives into their mouths. Olives that they had picked off a slice of pizza that they then had trojan-horsed into his corner while he had been in the bathroom, to prove that he would not notice the difference. And he hadn’t. “Aww, sore loser?” “Uhm, yeah, you are corrupting my girlfriend to play tricks on me, I’m allowed to be sore about that.” Finch nudged Eddie’s leg with her foot, “I’ve been playing tricks on you on my own for the better of two years now.” “What?”

“We’ll feed you again, Max. Don’t worry–” “Excuse me?--” Eddie interjected but Max’s embarrassed face stopped him from making a scene. “Hey, what’s wrong?” “Nothing, it’s just…” she shook her head and waved her hands in the air as if the right words were there and she just had to catch them. “You don’t have to feel bad about this, alright?” “Yeah,” Eddie agreed, “We’ve all been there.” “I know,” Max said, eyes a little wet. “It’s still fucking shit, isn’t it?” After nothing but crumbs were left, Finch found Eddie in the kitchen as he tried to stuff too much cardboard into a too-full trashcan. “What about we play one or two rounds of cards or something? Her mom is out drunk on the sofa again.” “Yeah, sure,” he nodded and gave her a kiss. “You know where all the stuff is, let her choose something.” Eddie looked after her as she walked back to his room and let out a sigh. Helping Max out had become an almost daily occurrence now. Even Wayne had started noticing despite his schedule of mostly night shifts and he had started stacking some extra cans and boxes in their pantry. He would hand her some later when she left. She probably would protest and call him names but he knew she was grateful and that being prickly helped her cope with the situation so he didn’t mind. “Alright folks,” he cheered as he made his way back, “who is ready to get annihilated?”

—

Someone was shaking him and his whole body protested against the intrusion. “Eddie, wake up babe. Hey, Eds…” “Hmgrrmb, l’mme sl’p.” Soft laughter reached him, then again, “Come on, just a moment, you’ll be in so much pain tomorrow if you sleep like that and then I have to endure your whining all day.”

Eddie cracked an eye open. The small light was on and in fact, his neck already didn’t feel quite right. He sat up from where he had slouched against the wall, rubbing his face. “What’s going on? Where’s the carrot?” Finch immediately started rubbing circles into his back, fingers kneading the sore muscles in his neck and he groaned. “You fell asleep mid-game. Max just left a minute ago.” “Shit… wasn’t I winning?” “Yeah, three out of five, I guess you annihilated us.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Good. Revenge for your horrible olive plot.” “You’re a menace,” Finch laughed, now massaging his shoulders with both hands. “You had a perfectly good pizza experience.” “I guess you’re right… if one can overlook the betrayal.” Eddie yawned and his eyes started to fall shut again. “This feels very good, Fin. But I think I’ll just pass out if you keep on…” he turned his head to her and gave her a kiss, missing the centre of her mouth by half. “I better go find my toothbrush before that happens.”

—

The mattress dipped, pulling Eddie out of sleep again. It was dark and his arm hit empty space as the tried to find Finch’s warm body. “Shit! Disappointing.” 

He managed to stay somewhat awake until the mattress dipped again and the blanket lifted. Eddie let out a sleepy sound that was something reminiscent of a welcome. “Sorry,” she whispered, “Didn’t mean to wake you.” She swiftly slid back under the covers and pressed her back into his chest, wiggling a little to perfectly slot into the space as Eddie reached out his arm again and this time wrapped it around a soft waist. He nuzzled his nose to the back of her head, smelling her hair, taking in her warmth and sighed. His hand started to move on instinct, sliding up the side of Finch’s body, bunching up the shirt she wore and back down to the thick of her thigh and all the way back up. Between the soft drizzle of the rain above them and the rustle of fabric, Finch let out a small moan and Eddie suddenly didn’t feel like sleeping anymore. “What time is it?” he asked, still stroking the length of Finch’s side softly. “Almost four.”

He hummed and slid his hand up her arm and over the curve of her shoulder, brushing strands of hair off her neck before shuffling down and kissing it. Gentle fingers found his cheek as he left a trail of soft kisses, whispering in between. “A good time to fuck.” Finch started to turn under his arm but he pressed a hand to her stomach and tutted: “Keep that pretty ass right where it is.” Shoving his hips forward, he raked his nails up her soft skin between her breasts and finally slid his palm up her throat, turning her head to him as far as her tendons would allow while pinching her chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I know that voice,” Finch breathed out between her restricted jaws while Eddie started to suck a bruise right under her ear, “you’re goin’ to wreck me, aren’t you?” Eddie’s cock twitched deliciously in his boxers. He shifted and slid his other arm underneath her to replace the hand on her throat while shoving the now free one straight down to her crotch, nestling it between the warm squeeze of her thighs. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” she tried to nod. Her hands were clasped around his forearms, nails digging small half-moons into his skin. It hurt. Finch might look like a delicate creature most of the time, but she was stronger than her exterior let on and not at all helpless. The fact that she could knock him out if she wanted to, that he felt the soreness in his muscles flare up as they worked to keep her in place; it all drove him fucking nuts. “Yeah, what, little demon? Use your pretty mouth to tell me what you want.”

Finch ground her ass into his groin in lazy circles. He hadn’t moved a finger yet between her legs, just pressed the full length of his hand against her pussy. He could feel a wet patch seeping through the fabric that separated him from her. “I want you everywhere, I want you to give me all that you have and more and for you to fucking wreck me, Eddie– ahhh!” He had sunken his teeth into her neck, unable not to when she begged for him like that. “Did that hurt, hm?”

With an eerie speed, Finch dipped her chin, chasing for his hand and he heard her teeth click together as he pulled it away at the last moment. He chuckled deeply. “Unruly behaviour for someone who wants to get fucked so badly, don’t you think?” A punched-out moan escaped him as Finch angled her hips further back, putting tight friction on the tip of his already swollen cock. “But if you insist on having my fingers in your mouth,” he gritted out, thumb sliding over her bottom lip already greeting him with the tip of her tongue, “who am I to deny it to you?” Finch greedily sucked two of his fingers into her mouth and he used the moment to tilt her hips a little backwards, pull her panties to the side and slide two fingers between her slick and wet lips. She gasped and cursed around his knuckles and Eddie felt his cock leak sticky precome against his belly. “Hmmm, that’s right,” he hummed into her ear, “just the way you like it… I know what you need...” Circling her swollen clit, slow and dragging, kissing and nibbling on her neck, feeling her swallow hard under his lips; he drank in all her noises, every movement, the soft tongue sliding around his fingers. Eddie could drag this out forever. “You want a taste of yourself, little demon?” He could feel her nod. “Yeah? Then open your mouth for me…” Finch whined as he stopped touching her, turning into a moan when he replaced the fingers in her mouth with those coated in her wetness. Eddie had propped himself up on his elbow to watch her face but it was too dark and this wouldn’t do. He wanted to see her while she slowly lost it for him. He untangled himself from her without a warning and rolled over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp, then looked for something to throw over it to dim the light down. “Don’t move!”

But she wouldn’t be Finch if she didn’t challenge him even a little bit. While he was rummaging around on the floor, a hand crept to his cock, stroking him through the fabric, and teeth sunk into his shoulder. “You can’t just leave me unsupervised and expect me to behave… you know that… don’t you, Sulfur?”

“FUCK!” Eddie threw his head back and turned fast, pushing her back with the movement. He knew it was probably silly how much it turned him on when she called him that but it just fucking did and he didn’t care either way. Finch sat upright now, hair a tousled mess, deep red marks on her neck and shoulders, grey eyes defiant and full of lust and hunger for him. He grabbed a fist full of her shirt, shoved it over her head and proceeded to throw it halfway over the lamp behind him. When he turned back again, Finch had leaned back, knees bent and thighs spread wide, with one hand down her panties, touching herself. Eddie tilted his head and pursed his lips in a smile, speaking calmly despite his racing pulse. “Well, if you don’t need me, I can go back to sleep.”

“No, you couldn’t,” she bit her lip and Eddie could see her fingers speeding up. “You want me so bad.” Reaching out, he grabbed her by one ankle and pulled her to him. She thumped to her back and laughed as he groaned while unceremoniously pulling her panties off of her. It left a glistening wet streak on the inside of her thighs and he slid his thumbs all the way up along it while he parted her legs and came to kneel between them and without hesitation, plunged two fingers deep inside her all the way to his knuckles. Finch threw her head back, back arching as he set off at a furious pace. He grinned as her breath hitched a few times before she could let out a long deep moan. “What? Did I fuck the bratty air out of you, sweetheart? Oops.”

“Fu-huck- tha-t’s– go-od…” “You can still talk, though. That’s no good.” Shifting his weight, feeling the pull in his sore legs, Eddie leaned over her and pressed his lips to her panting mouth as soon as he started to curl his fingers up into the special soft spot. Finch jolted beneath him, muffled curses streaming directly into Eddie’s mouth. He pulled at her lip with his teeth and felt Finch’s hand slide between their bodies to give attention to her clit. He stopped and grabbed her wrist, licking the tangy wetness from her fingertips, then looked at her reproachfully. “Don’t you think that I would have taken care of that myself if I thought you already deserved it, hm?” “I’ll behave,” she panted, cheeks flushed bright red and gorgeous, “I promise– just don’t stop… please… ple–” Eddie had started to take off his boxers while she had made pretty promises and he grinned sultrily when the sight of his hard flushed cock made her forget her words. “Look,” he said, pushing his slick fist over his whole length, “how do you like it when I do this -- ah -- when clearly all you want to do is get your hands on me–” “And mouth–” Still grinning, he stroked himself slowly and nodded, “--but I’m doing aaall the nice things to myself and don’t leave any to you?”

When she didn’t respond immediately, he leaned down and firmly tapped her clit two times, making her jolt again. “Not fair,” she breathed. “What was that?” he cocked an ear. “Not fucking fair… Eddie, please let me taste you!” “No,” he smirked and started to lower himself to his stomach, “not today, babe.” Eddie saw on her face that there was protest lurking in her throat and he throbbed with the knowledge of how badly she wanted to suck his cock but he was nothing if not stubborn. When she realized what he was about to do, her eyes closed and she grabbed the sheets in anticipation. He thought of teasing her a little longer but so close to her swollen dripping pussy, being a menace was exceedingly hard. A vibrating moan slipped through her lips when he licked the first long stripe over her clit and combined with her taste, it was enough to drive him mad. He pushed his fingers back in, returning to the former merciless pace. The sting in his scalp was thrilling as she held onto his hair for dear life. Toying with her clit - licking, sucking, circling; all of it - and watching what it did to her was one of the hottest things he could think of. It was a special treat to fuck her when she was just short of unravelling, fully here and present with him, her racing mind blank, registering nothing in the world but him.

He had brought her to the edge two times and let her cool down again when she squeezed him with shaky thighs, reached down and cupped his cheeks between her legs. “Fuck me, please.” No snark, all sweet and spent. She kept her hands on his face as he started to crawl up her body to kiss her. “Are you good?” “Hmm-hmm, perfect,” she hummed with heavy eyes, brushing hair from his face that fell back into place immediately. Eddie pressed his cock to her slit and moved up and down. “Can you go one more time, hm?” “Three times is torture, Eddie…”

He chuckled and kissed her chin. “One more, Fin. And then I’ll make you come, promise… you can shatter aaall around me… doesn’t that sound good?” “Fuck,” she laughed, “you’re really selling this.” “I promise I will deliver,” he whispered into her ear between kissing up her jaw. “One more…” she pressed one finger to his lips and nose and he nodded, smiling softly.  Eddie sat back on his knees, hands splayed out on her thighs, pulling her closer and slid all the way inside of her in one fluid motion. The tight warmth was intoxicating, as was the way Finch lifted her hips to take him in even deeper as she made the prettiest noises. “You’re so sensitive, sweetheart. The way you moan for me.” he just twitched his hip a little, still deep inside her.

“Fuck-Jesus-Eddie–” “Nah, the dude is not my type and I’m busy here.” With a long groan, Eddie started to pull out slowly just to thrust back in fast; he found a rhythm and watched Finch’s eyes roll back as she finally fully let him take over. “Finch, Finch, Finch…” he chanted her name, while heat pooled inside his abdomen, “you’re s-so beautiful like– like that, how you take me.”

He lifted her right leg and leaned it against his chest, changing the angle and sunk his teeth into her calf with a grin. Finch pushed her palms into the mattress and herself halfway up, gasping, her pretty small tits jumping every time he drove into her. “E-Eddie… I… god… so good– I-I…” “I know,” he grunted, “you’re getting reeeally fucking tight now… just… a little… more… fuck!” The overwhelming sensation pushed him forward, and he caught himself with clenched fists before he could smack down on Finch’s body, pulling all the way out, drawing a frustrated moan out of both of them. He usually just stopped inside her, but he’d drawn it out for too long and suddenly had been very close to coming himself and he wasn’t going to do that to her now.

Eddie cowered over her, panting, focusing very hard on the muscles in his loins as Finch’s legs were pressed into his sides, warm and sweaty and trembling. Her hands found his face and laced together behind his neck. “C’mere… please.” Eddie followed her pull into a kiss that was slow and sloppy and sweet while her shaky hands roamed every bit of his skin she could reach. “Stay close now, yeah?” “Want to sit in my lap?” he panted against her cheek, then chuckled. “Won’t take long for either of us now.”

“You have to hold me,” her voice soft and needy and his chest felt tight with, well, fucking everything. “I’ll hold you, babe.” Eddie kissed her, thumb stroking her cheek, watching her eyes close, then flutter back open, “you can lean on me and I’ll fuck you good one more time.” “Are- are you good?” “Absolutely!” He beamed at her.

Finch shook her head slightly with heavy eyes and brushed hair off his forehead again. “You have the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen, Munson.” “You’re so cute and tame when you’re all fucked out, nobody would believe me.” She almost pouted, brows drawn together. “I say nice things about you all the time, pretty boy.”

“Pretty boy?” Eddie huffed a laugh and pushed himself back up, pulling Finch with him by her wrists. “You’re getting delirious.”

“Now that you say it, I really could use something to drink.”

Eddie turned and grabbed the water bottle from the nightstand. “Here, hydrate.” He positioned himself while she drank and stroked his aching dick a few times, really ready to come apart with her now. Finch climbed into his lap, balancing her weight on his thighs; he would be so sore tomorrow like he’d never been in his life. “Left you some,” she handed him the bottle and as he drank, reached down and let herself sink down on his cock with a long sigh.

“Shit,” Eddie spluttered, water running down his chin and their chests. He wiped his face with the back of his arm and looked into a hot, smirking face. “You already getting cocky again?” Finch ground her hips down, “Something cocky is going on, yeah.”

Eddie laughed, let the bottle just drop off the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pushing up inside her. “Goddamnit, I love you.” “Eddie…” she whined and sunk all the way down on him, “m’ gonna come right now if you do that…”

He steadied himself with a hand placed behind him and pulled her to his chest, holding a slow rhythm with his thrusts. “You like that?”, he said close to her ear, “Hearing that I love you while I’m buried inside you?” “Ohmygod…” Finch let her face sink to his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. “Because now that– oh fuck, Fin– you feel so good– because now that it’s out there, I’ve no qualms –ah— w-whatsoever to moan– it– into your ear.”

She bit his shoulder in response and he sped up his thrusts again; he would fucking explode any minute, he was sure of it. “Finch, babe?” he shifted a little, the arm around her gripping her tight while he shoved the other one between them down to find her clit. “Ye-ah- E-d-die?” her voice broke every time he pumped into her, hard.

“I love you.”

“Shitshitshit–please–please d-on’t stop…” “You g-gonna come with me?” Finch placed her palms on his chest and pushed herself up to look at him and the sight of her face alone almost did him in. She moved her hips with him, meeting him hard every time, mobilizing all energy she had left while starting to squeeze tight around him again.

“Come for me,” his breath came in short hard bursts, “m’ right behind you�� oh holy f–” First her thighs started to tremble, then her hips twitched uncontrollably as she threw her head back, a scream locked in her throat unable to escape as she came hard, pulsing rapidly around him. Eddie looked at her in awe and complete ecstasy, not even feeling where her nails drew blood on his shoulders. She finally drew one deep, enormous breath and let it back out in the filthiest moan he’d ever heard and Eddie came too, hot white heat devouring him. He slumped forward, his face pressed to her heaving chest, barely hearing the quiet praises Finch spoke into the crown of his head as he rode it out. They stayed like this, tangled and close, until their breathing was even again. Finch ran her hands over his back in soothing circles until he was ready to let her go. His legs were killing him. “Want me to dismount? You’re trembling…” “Just the earthshattering orgasm, nothing to see here,” he pulled his face away from her chest, “but yes, please.” He flopped down on his back, arms spread out, feeling heavy and spent but also needy. The latter became apparent as Finch got out of bed and walked toward the door. “We’re you going?”

“Getting more water,” she bent down and gave him a kiss. “And going to the bathroom. We’re dripping down my thighs… like a lot.” Eddie groaned after her as she left the roam, “Stop the dirty talk please!”

“Never!”

He could still hear the rain on the roof and was aware of the sudden silence. There was something awful about being alone right after sex; he listened to the noises Finch made in the kitchen, then in the bathroom, to asses when she would be back. It made him almost feel anxious. “Finch!”

The toilet flushed and an eternity later, the door opened. “Finch? You coming back here or what?” “I’m here.” She got back into the bed, placing some stuff on the nightstand. Eddie held his arms out. “Come here.” “You okay?” He pulled her down to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, relaxing again when her warm weight settled where it belonged. “I’m now.” “Sorry, I didn’t think I was gone long.”

Eddie closed his eyes and waved one hand in the air. “I forgive you…”

He could feel her smile against his neck. “How very gracious of you, oh Edward the Needy.”

“Just… don’t fuckin’ do it again. Ever.” His voice was heavy and hard, tone and words missing the mark of a quippy comeback entirely. Something must have gotten into his eye because a little liquid pressed out the corners when he shut them tight. He felt Finch’s face turn up to him.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to snap out of whatever was suddenly trying to push its way out of him by force. “I don’t know why I said it like that I—“

“Yeah, forget it,” Finch rose up to his eye level, brows drawn together, “we are not doing that again. You’re upset, don’t swallow it down.”

“Suuuch a stupid time to be upset about shit.”

Finch wiped her thumb over his cheek; more tears had escaped him. “You think?”

“You don’t?” he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

“Do I think it’s a stupid time to be upset about being afraid to lose your girlfriend after a day like this? After fuck like this?”

He swallowed hard. “Terrified.”

“T’s not stupid. The blood must not have fully returned to your brain yet,” she smiled softly, worried eyes observing every twitch of his face. “I’m terrified too, you know?”

Eddie shook his head, “Tell me!”

“What I am scared of?”

“Please?”

“No,” she drew her brows together and shook her head. “But I can tell you what I am daydreaming about when you’re not around.”

“Fuck yeah. Please!” he smiled, sniffling a little.

Finch untangled herself from him and leaned over to the nightstand, turning around with a small bottle of the body oil she used in the evenings. “Get on your back.”

“What? Why?”

“You worked a long day. You’re in pain. Your muscles are twitching whenever you move your legs. Get on your back!”

Eddie pushed the blanket away and did as she told, spreading his legs as she moved in between them, sitting back on her shins. He was excited and overwhelmed and full of admiration as he silently watched a totally ruffled Finch coat her palms with the oil, the familiar and rich smell of bergamot and poppy surrounding him instantly, already calming him down a little.

“Our flat has one room,” she said palms rubbing together and eyes closed as if she was conjuring up an image. “I mean, except the kitchen of course,” she looked at him and smiled, “who wants to sleep in their kitchen, right?”

“Wouldn’t want that, no.” His voice was husky and he sighed when her warm palms gently run up his thighs. “Why one room?”

Her gaze was focused on his right leg where her thumbs rubbed small firm circles along the inside. “Because,” her eyes flicked up, “I like to lie in bed and watch you play the guitar on the couch in the mornings.”

Eddie groaned, his chest expanding with every word that added to the picture she was painting him and the sensation of her hands, slowly releasing the tension from his legs. This was already home.

“To firm?”

He shook his head and smiled. “What makes you think I could just sit there and play when you’re over there in bed?”

“Because you’re a strong-willed ambitioned musician who can come back to bed after he has tried out this new riff or that peculiar melodie. Plus, I have my best ideas in bed and you can  bounce lyrics that don’t feel quite right off of me.”

“Okay, I’m convinced. Go on.”

“Our books are all mixed together, no separate shelves or bullshit like that and— did that hurt or do you hate the idea?”

Eddie had winced as Finch worked her way up the most painful part of his thigh and it did hurt, but in a good way. “Nope, just really sore,” he pressed out through his teeth. “I like the idea, but if you want to sort them by color like you currently do we won’t find shit.”

“You get used to it, I promise.”

He wanted to cover her whole beautiful face with kisses. “That feels really good, babe. Thank you so fucking much.”

“You do the laundry—“

“Of course, I like my clothes the right size,” he chuckled.

“—Exactly my point - and I keep our plants alive.”

“We have plants? I like that.”

“Uh-huh, we need something to set off the dark walls,” she said, coating her palms in oil again to switch to his other leg, “we rescue them from the street or wherever people leave their half-dead failures. You can use your plant magic on the very bad ones.”

“Your desk is by the window?”

“Yes, and you have to put back my pencils after scribbling down spontaneous ideas in a haste or we’re going to get into fights and we only have one room so if you don’t want to sleep in the fucking kitchen—”

Eddie sat up, wrapped his arms around her waist and stopped her with a hungry burning kiss. Her hands came up to his chest, slick with oil as she sighed into his mouth. When he drew back, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“You really imagine stuff like that? You really mean that?”

A nod. “All the damn time. Do you?”

“Uhm,” he breathed deeply, “I— I have. But I tried not to, to make it hurt less when- if… sorry. You’re so sweet n’ I’m—“

“Honest.” There was no hurt in her voice, just a tinge of sadness. “What do you want?”

“That,” he blurted out, drawing back more to look at her. “I mean, shit, Fin. That was… just… I have no idea how.”

“You want to make it work?”

“So much.”

Finch shrugged - casually like when she’d told him that she loved him - as if the next thing she said was just the obvious. “Then we make it work. We figure it out.”

“Okay,” he grinned.

“Okay?”

“Let’s make it work.” Eddie let himself fall back, taking Finch with him, eliciting a little yep from her that made him chuckle. They just lay like that for a while until he felt heavy with nearing sleep.

“Seems like the storm is over,” Finch muttered sleepily against his chest.

“Hmm,” he agreed and kissed her hair. “T’ was a good one.”

[new2fivesauce]

Classically Your's... - Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie is being this soft, romantic guy the week of your upcoming anniversary and you have nothing to compensate until the day of. (5.2k words of fluff)

No warnings, just Eddie being fucking in love with you.

A/N: I couldn't get out of my head that Eddie gives off golden retriever boyfriend and I know for a fact that he would just be like the best boyfriend ever and would be all lovey dovey. He just gives off those vibes. This is probably just a nonsense fic too, lots of words. Also I was inspired by the Pop Goes Classical (<-link)playlist on Spotify because I'm just a dork who really likes classical shit. Thanks and enjoy :)

When Eddie Munson and you initially got together your junior year and his first senior year, it was the talk of the school for about a week. You two weren’t necessarily the most popular people for either one of you to make the front page of the school paper but you had. You weren’t on the cheer team, you didn’t play sports, you weren’t even in the marching band. You had opted for the softer option and was the top violinist in the orchestra and Eddie… Well Eddie was Eddie.

This was now his second senior year making him a year older than you. He was also not in sports or extracurriculars, but he was a nerd underneath the long hair, dark clothes, and metal rings. He was known as a troublemaker and the school drug dealer, but he wasn’t just that person to you. He was an avid reader, not that he let anyone know that fact. He was greatly interested in mythology and had a poster in his room that connected the aspects of his favorite fantasy game, Dungeons and Dragons, to mythological and folklore. He was also a very good musician, something that the both of you could relate to very well and talk about for hours. He was incredibly musically inclined and just by hearing a song once or twice, he could pick up the rhythm and notes and play it almost exactly note for note on his guitar.

Now Eddie’s music was not particularly kind to the ears of Hawkins’ people. The whole town was going through a panic, blaming metal music and fantasy games for the bad things happening not just in this weird, small town but the whole world too. Fortunately for you, you nor your parents fell for that crap. Sometimes you felt as if your parents were from some different planet. 

The first time you mentioned the long haired boy and your sudden love interest in him to your mother, her eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. “OH! You must bring him to dinner some day.” She had insisted. When you brought it up to Eddie, he was surprised. Typically parents and especially parents of girls he was seeing did not approve of him, but after some careful consideration, he went to dinner one night and he was accepted so fast, Eddie believed he was being pranked. He was low-key expecting someone to come out from a bush and yell GOTCHA!! in his face and then premiere his reaction on the local news channel.

Your mother, Donna, adored him. Your mother, quite the talker she was, could talk to him forever and Eddie never minded. Sometimes, you believed, he needed this maternal interaction since his mom was not in the picture.  Your mom didn’t care about his appearance; she did, however, care about his well being. Seeing as Eddie only lived with his uncle in the not best part of town and was often left alone to fend for himself, your mom always made sure he was well fed, often sending you to school with care packages full of home baked sweets and home cooked easy microwave dinners when his schedule was full from DnD games, band practice, and whatever shenanigans he put himself through the week. Eddie, who had always been scrawny even as a kid, had finally started to fill out and gained a decent amount of weight from your mom’s cooking. He wasn’t anywhere close to being pudgy, but often commented jokingly that Donna would be the death of him if she didn't stop feeding him.

Your dad, James, although a bit hesitant and not as accepting at first as his wife, around the second time Eddie came over for dinner, he had been fully embraced by the patriarch of your family. Your father could tell that Eddie was smart and very well versed in books, music, movies, and world news. Eddie had even beat your dad at Monopoly one family night. Your dad never lost. Your dad was so proud to finally have lost a game and suddenly they had this very close relationship. Eddie had even started teaching your dad about Dungeons and Dragons and they would talk battle strategies until dinner was ready.

You didn’t think your life could be any better than it currently was… until you realized that your one year anniversary with Eddie was a week away. You only remembered when one day as you stepped up to your locker at school and opened it, a bouquet of orange lilies (your favorite) in a small vase was placed on top of your books. You plucked the small note stuffed between the petals and read it.

Your laugh is like music to my ears - EM

You pressed the small, white card to your chest, your entire body filling with giddiness and pure love for this boy. You recalled the time he had said that to you, for even though you’d known Eddie for a long time having grown up in the same small town, you had never talked to him until your sophomore year of high school. 

He had been running in the hall, apparently making a getaway from some jocks that he had pulled a prank on, when he slipped and knocked you and your books over. He apologized profusely as he helped you pick up your belongings. One of the books you had was Shakespeare. He had made a joke that made you laugh so hard, you snorted. You hid your mouth behind your hand in embarrassment, but he had looked at you in awe. “Your laugh… is like music to my ears. Don’t be embarrassed of it.” 

—---------

The next day, you met Eddie in the woods next to the school. He was sitting on the top of the picnic table where he often did his little drug deals with the student body of Hawkins High. He heard your footsteps crunch the leaves and a smile as bright as the sun appeared on his face when he saw you walking up to him. You couldn’t help but smile back even though you had had a gnawing feeling in your gut since the day before after receiving the flowers. When Eddie handed you a flat sturdy square, horribly wrapped with the biggest bow he could manage to put on it, the feeling got even worse.

“For me?” You asked through feigned surprise. He nodded, scooting to the edge of the table as you began to unwrap the gift. It was Michael Jackson’s Thriller on vinyl. Your eyes widened in glee as your eyes scanned the front of the vinyl cover and then flipped it over to read the song tracks. Over the song track PTY (Pretty Young Thing), there was a taped tiny blue paper that read You are my…

Read together it said You are my PTY. You laughed and squeezed the vinyl in your arms gently. 

“Eddie!!” You squealed as you put the record on the table first then wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh my God! Where did you find this? I can’t even imagine you walking into a store asking for Michael Jackson!” 

You pulled back to look at his face, his hands were at your waist. He shrugged shyly. “I just want to make you happy.” He mumbled. You shook your head, mumbling I love you as you inched forward to kiss him. 

You couldn’t believe it. This man must have gone far to get you the record you had wanted so bad. Eddie was a metalhead through and through and he despised your love for mainstream music. He tolerated it like you tolerated his music, although he had admitted that MJ was a very good entertainer. The reason you wanted the vinyl was because your parents had bought you the tape three times already and every time you wore it out. Vinyl would last longer, but Hawkins was such a tiny town and the music stores still had music from the 60s. Anything current had to be purchased in the city.

“Eddie…” you started, peeping at your boyfriend through your eyelashes. “You know you don’t have to do all this.” you said quietly. He placed a hooked finger under your chin, the thick, silver ring on his digit felt cold on your skin and it sent a slight shiver down your spine.

“I want to do this.” he told you sternly. “You are my first real girlfriend and I want to do everything right. You see those couples walking down the hall everyday. They look happy but they’re not. Then they break up and the whole school takes sides. I don’t want that. I don’t ever want you to hate me if something were to happen to us.” 

His eyes closed for a moment. His eyebrows were knitted together; there was something troubling him, but when he opened his eyes again and looked at you, whatever was wracking inside his brain seemed to dissipate.

—---

Day Three’s gift was all black geometric sunglasses similar to the ones that Madonna wore in her Into the Groove music video. The first time you had allowed Eddie into your room, he had pointed out the Madonna poster that you had hanging on your wall. He liked her music. “It’s catchy.” It was one of the very few artists’ tapes that he had in his van collection… just for you to listen to whenever he picked you up.

—----

Day Four’s gift was a Pat Benatar t-shirt. It was black, faded, and had the female artist in a power pose. You slipped the tee over your powder blue top immediately and admired it from your view. “This is so sweet.” you commented, grinning up at Eddie. He brushed his hair back with one of his ringed hands coyly. 

“I knew you’d love it.” he said. And indeed you did. Love is a Battlefield was your anthem. It was also the song that you and Eddie first danced to.

You had been invited to one of Steve Harrington’s big parties. All your friends were going with their boyfriends/girlfriends and you wanted to go so bad. However, you were reluctant to tell Eddie about it. He never intentionally got invited to these types of events. He usually just crashed them or would pop up outside and sell weed. He was the one that brought it up and you were surprised when he did.

“I actually got invited this time.” he mentioned, his eyes flickering over to the jock table. “I guess you give me some type of good rep.” he shrugged.

You could tell Eddie was uncomfortable the second you arrived. He picked a beer from one of the coolers placed around the house and retreated to a dark corner to people-watch. He let you have a good time with your friends and when Love is a Battlefield began playing loudly through the speakers, Eddie saw the way your face lit up and immediately turned to him. You beckoned him over to the dance floor with a wave of your hand and he shook his head no, a smirk teasing on his face. 

You pouted, no doubt, before shuffling through the crowd to get to him before the song ended. You grabbed his hands and pulled with all your might as Eddie dug the heels of his boots further into the linoleum floor of Steve’s living room. 

“You know I don’t dance.” he groaned as you pulled harder, his body barely moving forward a centimeter.

“Just this once! Please!?” You looked at him with the saddest puppy eyes you could manage. He ran a hand down his face, groaning in discontent and begrudgingly let you pull him to the dance floor.

You could feel everyone’s eyes suddenly fall onto the two of you. Eddie stood still as you tried to encourage him by placing his hands on your waist. The song was half over and even if he just shimmied his body just once, you would die happy. But he did you one even better. As the song got to the chorus, his hands dropped from your waist whilst taking a deep breath.

“Please don’t laugh” he remarked as he burst into the choreography move set from the music video. Your hands flew to your mouth in absolute astoundment but recovered quickly to join him. The bystanders around you realized what the two of you were doing and joined in as well until the song ended. 

When the song finished and transitioned into a slow one, you stayed on the floor, arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso and his around yours. 

“What the hell was that?” you asked, trying not to laugh. He bent his head forward, placing his forehead on yours, ignoring the giggles that were slipping from your tight lips. He couldn’t help but cheese back at you. 

“You do know that you’ve shown me that video countless times. I’m sure your mom could do those moves in her sleep.” 

“But you know the moves?” you questioned, an eyebrow arching.

With a roll of eyes, he said “I might have practiced in the shower once or twice.”

—---

On Day 5, Eddie was supposed to take you home after band practice. He took a detour to his trailer first though. He made you wait inside the van while he dashed inside. He came out a few minutes later, his guitar case in one hand and a small box in the other. He handed you the box when he got back into his seat.

“Uhh Eddie… what is this?” you stared at the box. It wasn’t small enough for a ring, but jewelry was a big step up from the other gifts Eddie had given you.

His foot was nervously tapping the floor as he watched you take off the lid. Inside was a small bracelet. When you lifted it out of the box, you realized that it was made from a guitar string. A little skull charm hung off of it. 

You lifted it up to your eye level, studying the charm and the grooves on the string.

“That’s the guitar string that broke at the first show you ever went to see me play at.” 

You briefly remembered the way Eddie loudly cursed on the microphone when he plucked the string too hard after he saw you walk  into the bar. He had invited you to watch earlier that day, but since you hadn’t given him a definitive answer, he didn’t think you were going to come.

He gently plucked the bracelet from your hand so that he could help put it on your left wrist. Your lips trembled, eyes filling up with tears.

“You’re such a fucking romantic.” you whispered, your right hand softly running over the bracelet. 

“Eh, I try.” he said. He eyed you curiously, making sure that you were okay before he put the van in drive and began heading in the direction of your house.

The pit in your stomach now felt like it was going to eat you from the inside. You were still stuck on what to get Eddie. You had scribbled ideas in your journal, even asked some of your friends, but nothing seemed good enough. You had the terrible notion that maybe Eddie knew you better than you knew him. Gosh, you were a freaking terrible girlfriend.

It was a comfortable silence on the way to your house. Eddie had just gotten the new Metallica album on tape so that was playing quietly in the background. He had bought a tape for you too. Even though he knew you were not too fond of metal, you did enjoy the guitar riffs. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Eddied asked as he turned into your neighborhood. You nodded. “Am I doing too much?” 

You didn’t want to tell him yes. You knew if you did it would feel like you were rejecting him. “I like this side of you.” You replied. “I like that you’ve taken what I like into consideration even if it’s not exactly you.”

He nodded. “Okay… I don’t have a gift for you tomorrow.” he said as he pulled into your driveway. “I kinda ran out of ideas, but I have one more. I’ll give it to you on the day of.”

As you grabbed your belongings, Eddie asked you if you had had a chance to listen to the new Metallica tape. You shook your head no.

“I know it’s hard for you to listen to. You being a classical enthusiast or whatever, but listen to the title track. Puppets is…” he paused to think of a word to describe it. “Indescribable.”

You laughed at his lack of choice of words, but promised him that you would listen to it. 

When you entered your house, your mom was in the kitchen. She greeted you by placing a pb&j sandwich at the kitchen bar. You climbed up to a stool and began peeling off the crusts. Your mom looked out to the living room as in expecting someone to strut in behind you.

“Eddie had band practice today.” you said. Your mom pursed her lips, turning to look at the magnetic calendar on the fridge. She shook her head. 

“No, today is DnD.” she said, pointing at today’s date. In Eddie’s handwriting it read EM - DnD at 5:30. Your mom wasn’t a creeper. She didn’t try to live vicariously through you or Eddie, but she liked to know when Eddie was coming to dinner so she could make his favorites. Eddie had gotten so used to your comfortable home life, that he just did things on a whim as if he truly lived there, … including notifying your mom of his after school things.

“Yeah, but the Wheeler kid couldn’t make practice so he canceled that and he has a show coming up soon so…” you didn’t finish your sentence but your mom understood.

She nodded and then went back to clearing up the pb&j mess on the counter.

After your snack, you stayed in the kitchen, talking to your mom and showing off the gifts you’d received. You mentioned that you were stuck on not knowing what to give in return. 

“He’s going above and beyond for me, Mom!” You nearly cried, your tears stinging your eyes as you tried to hold them back. “I feel so bad because I don’t know what to do. You know, he’s even going to the recital next week? He’s told me he only likes classical music because I play violin! He’s too perfect.” you signed, dropping your head onto the counter.

The bang caused your mother to look at you with some concern. She tried to give you some advice, but your parents were together for metaphorically centuries but this was a new relationship. A one year anniversary was either a make it or break it situation in the world of high school.

You thanked your mom for trying to help before trudging to your bedroom. You tossed your backpack on the bed, causing some of your items to fall out. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at yourself. You picked up the stuff off the floor, leaving the Metallica tape Eddie had given you last week for last. You peeled off the plastic wrapping off of it and placed it in your cassette player. You put the volume on the lowest setting. 

You were studying your music for your recital for next week, practicing some of the measures when the introduction of Master of Puppets interrupted your thoughts. You turned up the volume of the radio slightly and you were quickly engrossed by the music.

Your foot tapped gently on your carpeted floor, your head bobbed to the beat, and your left hand was fingering the strings of your violin trying to figure out the notes. 

Suddenly an idea popped in your head. “Holy shit.” You whispered as you quickly got up and went to grab the phone from the kitchen.

—--

You were late. You shoved your violin into its case and snapped it shut in a haste. You threw the strap of the case over your shoulder, grabbed your backpack and threw the strap of that over your other shoulder and dashed out of your room.

You slipped into the kitchen to grab a pack of pop tarts from the pantry. Your mother was at the breakfast nook, reading the morning paper. She looked up at you but didn’t ask anything, just furrowed her brows and went back to drinking her coffee and reading. 

“Bye Mom!” you called out as you made your way to the front door. You hadn’t even bothered to look up after swinging the door open; you were so occupied with trying to open your breakfast that you bumped straight into a body. He hmphed as you bounced back, almost dropping your pop tarts.

“Eddie!” you exclaimed, stumbling with regaining your balance. You shoved the straps on your shoulders back to comfortable positions as the boy in front of you scanned his eyes over you curiously.

You were in jean shorts, a Hawkins hoodie, long socks and beat up Vans sneakers. Your hair was put up high in a ponytail and your face makeup free. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his dark eyes darting over the bags on your shoulders. You arched your head and stood on your tippy toes to look over Eddie’s shoulder. A tan car was pulling into your driveway and you could see that it was Tim, your orchestra buddy who sat next to you in class. He took a glance at what you were looking at and scoffed.

“I am.” You answered nonchalantly. You waited for him to step aside so you could make your way to your ride, but he didn’t budge.

“I could have given you a ride.” his tone was bored, but you could tell he was hurt just a tiny bit.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” you lied. He didn’t take it.

“So you wake up Tim? The guy who’s been suddenly crushing on you since we got together.” 

Eddie was not usually the jealous type. He didn’t make a big show of making sure everyone knew that you were his and his only. It was just a given. But he didn’t fuck with Tim like that. You didn’t know why, nor did you really care because you didn’t see yourself dumping Eddie for that guy. Tim was just a friend.

“Ah, Eddie…” you paused to try to find the right words. “It’s a recital thing. Something came up last minute and Mr. D gave us some new music to rehearse.”

Eddie stared into y/e/c eyes, squinting a bit as if trying to read your mind. When you didn’t so much as blink back, he stepped backwards, with a bow and wave of his arm. “See you around, my lady.” 

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but you skipped away and hopped into Tim’s car.

—---

You awoke with a start and realized that today was the day. You’d officially been together with Eddie Munson for one year. You tried to stretch but there was something heavy at your feet. You sat up and saw that there was a big box at the end of the bed. This box was carefully wrapped in pink wrapping paper and a white bow. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you crawled to the end of the bed and pulled the box into your lap. 

The inside of the box was filled with white tissue paper and cushioned in the middle of the paper was a scrapbook. The scrapbook was black, obviously, and had giant stickers of your initials and Eddie’s. The book was thick and was tightly closed by a leather string that was tied around the book.

You untied it and began flipping through it. The book had everything from your first year with Eddie. Your eyes welled up with tears as you skimmed the pages. There was the front page article of when the two of you were in the Hawkins newspaper, a scrap of a menu from the local dinner where Eddie took you on a first date, the hand drawn flier of the first Corroded Coffins show you went to, the ticket stub from the homecoming dance, the note that he tossed to you in the lunchroom that was Eddie asking you to be girlfriend, tons of polaroid pictures, and other little memorabilia. 

Your heart hurt as you reviewed the book again. Your body was so full of emotions, you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip.

You got ready hastily. You had to see Eddie.

You parked outside of the Munson home. You grabbed the book and rushed to the door. Before you could knock, the door swung open to reveal a shirtless Eddie, hair ruffled and face still puffy from sleep.

“I heard your car.” he mumbled, gently rubbing the drowsiness from one of his eyes. 

You held up the scrapbook to his face. “You made this?!”

He hmmmed and you took it as a yes. You attached your body to his so fast, he almost lost his balance. 

“Seriously! This is the sweetest thing ever.” you gushed, flipping through the pages once more with him looking. He ushered you into his place so that you both wouldn’t be standing out in the morning sun. “I can’t believe you kept all of these tiny memories. Eddie, who knew you were such a softie?”

He led you to his room and closed the door behind you.

“Like I told you, I just want to make you happy and everything in that book is times that you’ve me happy. I love you, Y/N and I know that’s weird coming from your local metalhead with tattoos and rad hair, but it’s fuckin’ true.”

You pressed a hand to your chest whilst giving him a soft look. He took the book from you to place it on his messy dresser. He took you into his arms and leaned down to kiss you. 

Before things could get steamy, you pulled away, earning you a whine from Eddie as he lost the warmth of your body. 

You beckoned him to sit on his bed while you stood in front of him. He tried to make a grab for you but you stepped back. You couldn’t let him distract you. His eyes swept over your body as they usually did when you were acting abnormally. He knew there was something weird going on when you grew fidgety.

“Y/N…” he began, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“I know I've been a little odd this week. Honestly, I almost forgot that our anniversary was today… until you put those lilies in my locker, I remembered… and on the second day, you gave me another gift and then another and another. I felt like I was so imcompetant. How could I forget?”

“You had a lot of things on your mind…” Eddie tried to reason.

“No, well yeah, but that wasn’t it. I felt like you were putting in so much effort into the relationship and you know that’s not how we are. But your gifts were so carefully thought out; I can’t even imagine how long you’ve been putting all this together…”

“Well your mom helped me out some. She did the frilly things in the scrap–”

You shushed him so you could finish getting your speech out.

“...and I was just stuck. I didn’t know where to even begin… I finally listened to the Metallica tape you bought me when it dawned on me… Our love language… It’s music. From the beginning. Even though you’re metal and I’m you know, a mix of classical and pop, we still express a lot of our feelings through songs. You’ve made me countless mix tapes with songs that make you think of me. I’ve made you tapes of songs that have played in the background of places we’ve been to.”

You walked over to his boombox as you pulled a cassette case from your pullover kangaroo pocket. 

“I didn’t have a gift for everyday leading up till today, but I made this for you and I hope you like it because it’s a little bit of me and it’s a little bit of you.”

You placed the cassette in the player and pushed play, making sure to turn up the volume because Eddie liked his music loud.

There was static as the tape started, followed by some general room noises, some footsteps, a clearing throat, the tapping of a baton on a music stand.

Then the sudden start of multiple violins began and you thought he would realize the tune quickly because this was one of his top bands, but the instruments must have thrown him off since it took Eddie a good minute to recognize the tune.

Master of Puppets by Metallica. (link)

His eyes widened, his eyebrows went to the ceiling as he realized that the violin was you. He darted his eyes to and from the boombox to you, his mouth in a perfect circle with a fist covering it. As the song got to the climax, his brown eyes began to gush up with impending tears. You’d never seen him cry, not even out of anger, frustration, or sadness, but you’d seen him get wrecked over music before, but not to this extent.

When the last notes of the song faded out, you pushed stop on the player. You faced Eddie. He was still sitting, his body like a statue with the look of surprise still on his face.

“This is why you were hanging with Tim yesterday?” he suddenly asked. You nodded.

“He's the second chair, I needed his help, plus we got together with some other kids to fill in on the other instruments. It took us all day to figure out the song.” You explained. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only one with a good ear.”

At last, released from his stupor, Eddie jumped off his bed and embraced you tightly. 

“That was fuckin’ amazing! I can’t believe that was you! That was you taking on those riffs on your dainty, little violin!” He grabbed your left hand and saw that you had brand new calluses on your fingers. He held up his hand next to yours. “Shit, we really match now.” Noting the calluses on his fingers too from his guitar playing.

He kissed you deeply, gripping your waist tight and pulling you so close you could feel the heat rising off the bare skin of his torso. “You’re incredible. That’s going to live in my brain forever. We need to collaborate now.”

“Whatever you say. You know I’m yours.” you whispered as he reached behind you to rewind the tape and play it again before he snuggled his face into your neck, giving you a playful nibble.

“Can’t wait to see what you come up with on our next anniversary.” he mumbled, taking you back to his bed to show you how much he truly loved and appreciated you.

[imaddicted2hs]

ONE SHOT- Broken Mirror

Its going to be sad sad so brace yourself guys.

And yes hey, posting after like decades lmao. Its just a little something i have been feeling lately so if you wanna feel a lil sad, this is the one shot maybe.

Word Count- 1.4k

Warnings- Angst

Happy Reading!!

---------------------------

I slowly breathe in as I mindlessly open my case. I grab the neck of my black guitar, pulling it out carefully. “You will play great y/n I know, don’t stress it too much yeah?” I give my friend a small tight lipped smile and look around to see if he’s there.

We don’t have the same class anymore but he has friends in my section so he often visits during the common break. I have spent nights memorising this very song by heart. I learned to play it on guitar so that I could sing it all out, all my feelings for him. But it will be like a knife was stabbed in my heart if he doesn’t show up. I notice a few heads turn towards me as I sit on the desk, positioning my guitar. I feel the coarse strings on my fingertips as I hold some random chords and give it a light strum. Before beginning with it I quickly glance at the door and to my surprise I make eye contact with him. It’s so quick that I barely see anything other than his green orbs looking at me and his body leaning at the door frame basically effortlessly. Without giving it a second thought I start strumming the intro attracting a few more half interested peeps around me. I get lost in singing right away because I have always felt those lyrics deep in my bones. I was in no way a singer but I was fine enough to not make other people’s ear bleed and sound tolerable if there was light music in the background.

“I wanna taste his lips, yeah cause they taste like you, I wanna drown myself in a bottle of his perfume.”

I made sure to change the pronouns as I sang the song and I tried my best, I really did, to not turn my head to the left as I said the you part but it was almost like my actions were out of my control. Ofcourse I regretted doing that because as soon as I turned my head, he stared right at me and I saw his eyebrows shoot up, which was almost unnoticeable, but I caught the slight surprise in his eyes. Regardless I continued and it felt like the song ended too fast or I swallowed a whole verse or something but maybe I was just being paranoid. My idiotic brain made sure to not skip looking at him at any of the ‘yous’. It was almost embarrassing because I felt like a few people noticed it. I strum the last chord and let it echo as I pull my hand away and smile at the small crowd in front of me. I didn’t even notice that I’d attracted a good amount, probably around 50 people, as I played. Not even a second later I heard a small applause and my friend's rushing words like “dude how” or “damn girl” as she gave me a side hug. I didn’t have the guts anymore to look at him again and my only friend who knew about him gave me a sympathetic look which I just shrugged to in response. So what really was the deal? Harry Styles. The boy I have liked since 7th grade, which means it’s been almost 5 years now. We were not strangers no but we weren’t close friends either. The dynamic we had was too confusing for me to understand properly. We actually did pretty great when it came to texting but it all came down to puddles of awkwardness and almost forced conversation whenever we tried to talk face to face. It wasn’t like that for the first year I’d met him but after two years of not seeing each other and only texting at times, it all ended in this weird ball of confusion. Almost like an intangible mess of lose threads. And what made it worse was my old ex best friend, now like a frenemy, was closer to him than I could ever be. It was almost excruciating to watch them talk so freely and even laugh together. It’s a thought that can make me bust into tears at anytime of the day so I won’t go down that road. I hear a few “that was really nice” and “great job, keep it up” as I start to put my guitar back in because boys around here can’t be trusted. All the compliments made sure to put a permanent smile on my face but my bubble is popped as soon as I see him approach me. “You looked adorable while playing the guitar.” It takes me a second to get a grasp of what he said but I mutter a quick thanks as I try to find something, anything, to do with my hands as we talked. “Could we talk for a moment?” I close my eyes and mentally curse myself because I had a feeling that this would happen but I also had a small hope that he won’t find the guts to do this. “Sure ofcourse” I reply as coolly as I could. I follow him as he tries to make small talks. I know I can break the ice and make it less hard but something inside me doesn’t want me to. Almost as if my soul is enjoying watching him struggle. “So how’s life treating you?” “Nothing much, what about you?” Him and his dry replies again. I just shrug in response to challenge that response. “So who’s the guy crush?” He askes me all of a sudden and I just scoff as a reflex. “Are you really asking me that right now?” My question is laced with annoyance and I can see that he’s taken back by my sudden change in mood but I’m done pretending now. Before he can say anything I attack him with my words. “Not a single glance I gave you was the answer to the question you just asked? I can’t take it anymore Harry, I can’t. Either you are just naive or you just don’t want to see what’s right in front of you.” My voice is shaking but I continue because his face portrays not a single emotion right now.

“You give me all of these mixed signals and I almost believe that you like me but then you sometimes say stuff that screams ‘we are friends’ right in my face. I like you Harry and this all is killing me.” I just stare at him because I know he deserves atleast a little time to comprehend it all. He sighs before he makes a go for it. “Y/n you’re cool and a nice friend but I’m just not looking for a relationship right now. But I promise that we can be really good friends. You can trust me.”

“That’s it? Good friends after this? What? Okay not looking for a relationship. With me or in general? And why didn’t I hear you say that you don’t reciprocate these feelings? What if that girl you like liked you back? You would date her I’m sure.” I can’t think straight as I bombard him with all these questions with tears daring to fall from my eyes. He just gives me a look from which I can’t make out anything and I just stand there watch him leave after he mutters an apology. I want to scream at him. I want to yell and let him know that now also he did nothing but communicate badly and I hate him for not liking me back but I don’t say any of that. Instead I break into tears and let all the frustration out because it really isn’t his fault. He never asked me to fall for him and he never asked me to get attached to him. He didn’t promise me a strong bond or a friendship. He didn’t because he didn’t need to. I fell into the ugliest trap of one sided love and I resent the fact that anything like that exists. I get a hold of myself and I sprint into the nearest restroom. I wash my face, tell myself everything is fine and somehow make it out alive of the next three hours of school. I reach home and in no time I lay on my bed and I cry and cry until I have no tears left. He didn’t feel the same. It felt like I had looked in a mirror, but it was broken. I’d shouted but the voice hadn’t echoed. I had thrown a pebble in the lake and the droplets hadn't repeled. I didn’t like this feeling and I just wanted to wallow in my sadness for the whole night. And that’s exactly what I did.

-------------------------------

Thoughts??? Constructive criticism is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated and I hope I have improved. I'll writing something longer and better soon maybe. See ya till then;)

[atinytinaa]

The Lonely Hearts Club

Are you lonely too?

Pairing: Punk!Wooyoung X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to lovers, Battle of the bands, Slow burn

Warnings: red head wooyoung, mean wooyoung, swear words. Mention of ice cream.

Please tell me if I'm missing something

a/n: Please like and reblog, Feedback is highly appreciated, Thank you for reading :)

(Has not been proof read)

Track Two: Graveyard

You shook your head and sighed.

"you've got to be kidding me?" You questioned. Sana stood next to you. Big smile on her face, she just nodded at you.

"Battle of the bands. Someone has to beat We the kings this year" She stated, sipping at her milk shake, as she walked away from where you were observing the poster.

You scoffed. Following behind her.

"Right, and it's going to be me and this imaginary band"

She whipped around, making you bump into her.

"not just any band y/n '' she raised her eyebrow at you with a smirk playing on her face. "The band of the century".

"look i know you've had this fantasy of being in a band bu-"

You looked around and observed the stores in front of you as people came in and out.

"What do we need at the music store?" You questioned

"Song Mingi"

"Song Mingi? The nerd?" You said, shocked at the quiet boy she's suggesting

"The same Mingi that projectile vomited in front of everyone in 6th grade?"

Peeking from behind the guitars, staring at said boy as he helped a family buy a piano for their child.

"Yes, dear cousin, Song Mingi, the same one who graffitied on the teachers car for senior day"

You gasped, not believing a word that came out of her mouth.

"You mean fix on?"

She nodded.

"Trust me he's your guy, straight A's, strict korean parents have made him play cello since he was five years old, he's basically a prodigy" she threw her arm around you, her body weight against yours "but it wasn't till he heard John Entwistle from The Who play his solo on My generation did he change his mind and started to play bass behind there back"

You stared at her a bit creeped out at how she knew all this information.

"If his parents found out they'd probably kill him" Sana said, turning towards you.

"Now, how do you plan to get him into the band?"

"Me?" you Shouted a little too loud, making the girl shush you.

"Yes. You. Who else?"

You gaped at her like a goldfish out of water.

"This was your idea not mine"

"Yes but it's your band"

"My band? you were the one who suggested -"

Your fight was broken by a deep voice coughing, making you both look at him comically.

"Can I help you ladies?" Questioned the Tall boy.

"Well that didn't go so bad,did it?"

You glared at the girl from her seat across from yours. thinking back on the fool you made yourself in front of Mingi 

"He probably thinks i'm a freak"

"I don't think he minds, he's pretty cute, have i dated him before?"

You were too lost in your thoughts to respond to her, as she scrolled her phone, probably looking for the next member.

Having a bassist meant having a guitarist and that meant having a drummer as well.

You Gasped snapping up with a big smile on your face.

"We need to go to wendys!"

"Why are we at Wendys?" Sana questioned.

The sun had set, making the night chilly, as you both stared up at the neon sign of the fast food restaurant.

"Because, dear cousin, i know exactly who could be our guitarist"

You pulled the door open, the smell of fried food hitting you all at once and the sound of Steve vai shredding on the guitar landed on your ears.

You smiled to yourself, staring at your only other friend in this beat up town, frying burgers.

"Yunho!"

The giant looked up from his work giving you his big puppy eye smile.

"Y/n!" he eagerly said

Jeong Yunho. High school dropout. legendary guitar solos at underground shows. Doesn't know what to do with his life but seems to be happy where he is.

The boy jumped over the counter in a rush, bringing you in for a big hug.

"Do you want some ice cream?" the boy murmured, mushing his face into your hair.

The moment you met Yunho it was as if everything had fallen into place, you guys were soulmates, not the romantic type, but your brother/ sister type of love.

" Yes please with sprinkles on top" you beamed, relaxing at the counter as you watched the boy make your ice cream.

He cleared his throat.

"So what brings you here Tiny?" he questioned, broad back towards you

" Well me and-"

You looked around for the pink haired girl, as the sound of the door opening rang out.

"Sorry y/n Mina had called and said she had a fashi- on emergency" she sighed out, stopping in her tracks, her eyes glazing over with a dreamy look in them.

You turned to see your ice cream cone crushed in Yunho's big hands, ice cream dripping down onto the floor as he stared back the same dreamy haze in his soft eyes.

"H-Hi" He Stuttered out, whipping his free hand on his apron, pushing you slightly out of the way.

"Hello" Sana Said nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, shaking hands with the boy, both gasping at the contact.

It was as if two magnets were drawing each other in, they could not take their eyes off of each other.

"umm guys?" you snapped , making them both stare at you, as you stared back eyebrows furrowed at what you had just witnessed.

"Are you okay?"

They let go of each other's hands, hearing yeses and a few shy giggles come from them.

"Umm, shall we sit down and talk?" you scratched at your head, not sure what to do.

Yunho and Sana sat down across from each other, Sana fluttering her eyelashes at the tall boy who stared back in awe, knuckles to his rosy cheeks.

"Getting to the point i need a guitarist to play in-"

"i'll do it" the boy answered, the love sick look on his face not leaving once.

"You will?"

"You will?".

Did you really just witness your cousin and your best friend fall in love with each other? and at first sight?

"Okay then" you said getting up from the booth.

"i'll wait for you outside, uhh Yunho Text me"

only a hum came from the duo making you roll your eyes at them.

Who needed love anyways when you had music

Right?

.

.

.

"Well"? You smirked, as the girl got into her car, a new aura surrounding her. She sighed with a big smile on her face turning the car on as she drove out of the empty parking lot.

Where is he? sana questioned

Yeosang, the boy's bored eyes stared back into hers through the glass of the concession stand.

"Out back like always" he muttered.

"What are we doing" you asked, hesitantly

As she pushed open the emergency door, letting you out first, She just smiled at you with mischief in her eyes.

"Getting you a drummer".

You heard the sounds of cheers and beers being cracked open, the parking lot to the town's cinema was a very famous hang out spot for those who enjoyed illegal activity and just as you expected everyone who was someone in this town was here.

A red haired boy pushed himself up onto one of the trash cans, letting his leather jacket hang around his elbows, showing off the different tattoos he had scattered on his arms, air guitaring to the song that played off the speaker.

You didn't need to look at the owner of that high pitched laugh to know exactly who it was.

The infamous Jung wooyoung.

The red haired male has always been very outgoing, not shying away from a challenge or the chance to make someone else laugh.

You stopped in your tracks, the thought of leaving Sana alone crossed your mind.

"What the hell are we doing here?" You whispered, harshly.

She knew very well you didn't like being near the type of crowd she's involved with but she just smirked at you, not expecting the next words to pierce you with hurt.

"Just because you and San stopped talking to Wooyoung doesn't mean I did"

and just like that she ran towards the redhead screaming his nickname for everyone to hear. The boy perked up at the mear call of his name, a gorgeous white pearly smile on his tanned skin as he twirled the girl around, picking her up off of the ground.

Rolling your eyes, you walked slowly towards the duo drying your sweaty palms on your skirt. Already knowing how this interaction is going to go.

"Well, well, well if it isn't my favorite girl"

You looked up at a split hair dyed boy, his small hand intertwined with a sharp eyed boy.

"Kim Hongjoong!" You beamed, relieved that at least you knew a face.

The world suddenly became a blur for the red head as he locked his cold brown eyes onto you. He could suddenly hear his heart pounding in his ears, his hands sweating and shaking from familiar feelings hitting him after all those years.

The boy scanned you, hiding his disbelief that it was really you, the years doing wonders to you. You weren't that child he used to make mud cakes with. Now, you are a woman.

He watched as Hongjoong hugged you, making him clench his fist, his anger bubbling up, preparing to burst at any moment. But Sana calling you over shook him out of his stupor.

"How about you love? How's this shitty town been treating you?" Hongjoong asked taking a drag of his cigarette

"Well i se-"

Sana called out to you, making everyone stare at you. Not liking the attention, you put your hood up to hide your blushing cheeks.

You bid your goodbyes to the two boys before you, Hongjoong telling you that he'll call you for future producing sessions.

You stared straight into Wooyoung's cold eyes as they stared back at you without emotion, as you made your way towards the excited female side.

"Wooyoung this is y-"

"I know who she is" he deadpanned, taking a cigarette out of his leather jacket

Sana hesitantly smiled, not expecting for the conversation to go this way, She just smiled at you and grabbed your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Well the reason I have brought you both here is because, we're entering battle of the bands and we need a drummer and-"

The boy lit the cigarette, not once taking his eyes off of you

"No"

His reaction didn't surprise you. Wooyoung stopped having any affection for you a long time ago, Sana whined and pouted at him.

You were annoyed at the situation that she had gotten you into.

"You're wasting your time Sana" you scoffed, not backing down. Your mother once taught you to stare down your enemies and that was what you were trying to do, but who are we kidding this Jung wooyoung scares you.

"If it isn't Miss goodie tooshoos " he chuckled "can you finally talk without stuttering?"

He taunted you by walking closer, making you take a little step back as he leaned down to your height, blowing the smoke of the cigarette he was smoking into your face, making you give a little cough as you waved your hand.

you bit down on your tongue.

"What?" He questioned tilting his head to the side, feigning innocence.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You clenched your fist at his words, the boy playing with your emotions

"Wooyoung don't be a prick" Sana Scolded, pushing him back from you.

"You haven't changed a bit" you retaliated

The last thing you expected was laughter to escape the males lips.

" Yeah?" He questioned, getting even closer to your face, staring down at your lips as he bit down on his.

“After years of friendship. That's how you greet an old friend?” he chuckled, turning his back towards you, about to walk away when your next words make hip stop in his tracks.

Maybe you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

“You’re no friend of mine”

The boy sniffed, turning towards you with a cocky grin on his face, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek.

He once again leaned down towards you, now lips at your ear, as you tensed up from the closeness of the male.

"Well you're still that shy, nervous kid, who won't get anywhere because she doesn't know how to ask for what she wants y/n" he whispered eyes meeting yours.

"It looks like we both haven't changed."

You breath hitched at his words, he stood to his full height, taking one more puff of his cigarette, he dropped it right in front of you smashing it with his black combat boots.

You stared down at the asphalt, hands in tight fists, shaking at his words, as he walked away leaving Sana and you stunned at his attitude.

"I'm sor-"

"Don't" you snapped tears finally falling. "Sana just leave me alone please"

You wiped your tears with the back of his gray hoodie and made your way home.

That's not the Wooyoung you grew up with.

[sleepyeye17]

This Machine Kills Dragons

Eddie and Max are friends. Lumax. Eddie is alive, and is a big brother figure. Max is blind. 

Words: 1,517

Eddie and Lucas walked back from the store, carrying bags of groceries for themselves and for Max’s mom. Max had been awake for about a month now, but her mom was as depressed as ever. Hopper was talking about taking her to the local AA meetings.

Lucas took out his earplugs as they left the busy main boulevard.

“How’s your tinnitus?” Eddie asked. Lucas had been struggling with ringing in his ears since the fight with Jason.

“It’s getting better,” Lucas said. “I have a fan going at night, which helps, and I wear earplugs if I know I’ll be somewhere loud, like the grocery store or the main street. The doctors are saying it will mostly go away with time.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Me too. It would suck if I was deaf and Max was blind. We’d have to figure out something new.”

“You guys could make it work. You could do morse code with tapping. That would be awesome.”

“Yeah. Or like, shaping letters on her hand. I could do that.”

“How’s it going with you and Max right now anyways?” Eddie asked. "You've been quiet about her lately. Which is unusual."

Lucas shrugged.

“I dunno. I still love her, but...”

Lucas kicked a rock. Eddie grimaced and hissed between his teeth.

“Don’t let her hear that tone. That sounds bad.”

“I know. It is bad. It wouldn’t be so bad if she would just talk to me. But there’s not much to talk about. She’s just in bed all day. So I go and I read to her, or I tell her about my day, but I want to hear about her . And right now, there’s not much for her to tell me. She says she isn’t bored, she’s just tired. But I don’t know.”

Eddie thought about this.

“You know, there was a point when I was a kid, when I stopped talking.”

“ You ?”

“I know, I know, now I never shut the fuck up. But this was a long time ago. I was little.”

“Okay.”

“That’s when my mom got me my first guitar. I was probably around ten. Things were bad at home. We had just moved to Hawkins. By playing guitar, I was able to, you know. Express things.”

“But Max doesn’t play guitar.”

Eddie grinned.

“Not yet.”

Max could feel the sun hot on her face. She wanted to call a nurse to close the curtains, but it was too much work. Everything was too much work. Pressing the button was too much work. Talking was too much work.

Her legs were still in casts, but her arms were in removable splints and slings. She’d thought that would make her feel better, but what could she do with her arms anyways? Draw? She was blind. All she could do now was press play on the Walkman, and she didn’t like the feeling of the headphones on her ears, cutting her off from her most valuable sense. Sometimes she did play her music out loud, but usually that was also just too much work.

There was a tap at the door, and all of Max's senses sprung into high alert. She bolted upright like a Jack-in-the-box.

“Hey, it’s cool, it’s just Eddie.”

She relaxed into wariness.

“Hi Eddie.”

Her voice was still hoarse from Vecna's chokehold.

“You hot? It feels hot in here.”

“Yeah.”

She heard the curtains being pulled and she was immediately more comfortable.

“I brought you something,” Eddie said. Max liked that Eddie never asked how she was feeling. He knew how she was feeling. Eddie had been released from the lab soon after she’d woken up from her coma, but he still came in once a week for his checkups, and he always stopped by to visit her when he did.

There was a hollow thunk, and Max jumped at the unexpected noise.

“Sorry,” Eddie said. “It’s a guitar. I brought you a guitar.”

Max leaned forward, curious.

“They let you bring Sweetheart into the hospital?”

Eddie chuckled.

“No. Besides, Sweetheart isn’t the kind of girl you learn on. This is an acoustic. It was my first, and I think it’s more your size.”

“I’m not that small,” Max argued.

“I know. I just have crazy noodle arms.”

Max smiled.

“Lucas told me that you get bored,” Eddie said. Max looked confused.

“He told you that? I didn’t tell him that. I don’t get bored.”

“Really? I used to get bored when I was recovering. I was just sitting here all day.”

“I don’t get bored. There’s stuff for me to do. They have someone teaching me braille. And physical therapy.”

“Lucas didn’t tell me about the braille.”

“No. I don’t really talk to him about that stuff.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t actually been able to do anything. I still can’t tell an A from a K in braille, and all I do in physical therapy is bend my arms and lift quarter pound weights. I don’t have anything to say to him. I don’t do anything. What can I do? I get frustrated, because I want to tell him things, and, I dunno, entertain him, or whatever. He comes here all the time, and I just have nothing to say.”

“Well, after today you won’t have to say anything. Because you can play guitar instead.”

Max nodded.

“I’d like that.”

“How are your arms today?”

“Good. I can take off my splints.”

“You sure? We can start with just listening.”

Eddie had already talked to the physical therapist, who had approved short guitar lessons. Max was actually supposed to remove her splints more often than she did, and the PT was hoping that learning guitar might help her stay motivated in her stretching. But Eddie knew that Max would never agree to something just because it was good for her.

“I can do it.” She pulled the velcro splints off her arms. She was getting good at that.

“You ready?” he asked. “Can I put her in your lap?”

Max nodded, and she felt something large and cool bumping her thigh. She reached out, her hands running over the smooth curve of the wood. It was large, and her hands painted its shape as they traveled.

“Can I sit on your bed to show you?” Eddie asked.

“Okay.”

The bed dipped and Max scooted over to make room for him. Leather pressed against her arm.

“My mom gave me this guitar,” Eddie said. “She taught me how to play. It has words painted on it. Can you feel them?”

Max ran her fingers over the wood, and felt the texture change of thick dry paint.

“What does it say?”

“It says ‘this machine kills dragons.’”

“What does that mean?”

“In the 40s, the musician Woody Guthrie had ‘this machine kills fascists’ painted on his guitar. My mom was a big fan of his. And she liked fairytales. She couldn’t read or write very well, but she copied the words down and was really proud of them.”

“She sounds cool.”

“She was. She was a lot like you.”

“Blind?”

“No. Angry.” He didn’t give her time to consider this. “I’m going to move your hand. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

His hand came around hers. His hands were calloused, like Billy’s had been. He was similar to Billy in a lot of ways: impulsive, rebellious, and haunted by past abuse. But Eddie hadn’t let the abuse harden him. Sometimes Max wondered if Billy might have become more like Eddie if he’d lived long enough. She hoped so.

Eddie moved her hand to the neck of the guitar, over the strings.

“Just get to know her for now,” he said. “You should meet her naturally. You can’t see her, so learning is going to be different. I did a few practice sessions blindfolded, just to get the feeling of it.”

Max ran a fingernail over the fat E string, making it rasp.

“That’s called the fat E,” Eddie said. “The smallest string is called the high E.”

Eddie moved her hand over each string.

“It goes E, A, D, G, B, E,” he said.

“Why can’t they just be A B C D E F?” Max asked.

“Because musicians don’t know how to spell,” Eddie said. “You can remember it this way. Eddie—“ He plucked the low E . “-Ate-“ A . “-Dynamite-“ D . “-Good-“ G . “-Bye-“ B . “Eddie.” E .

Max grinned.

“Eddie ate dynamite, goodbye Eddie,” she repeated.

“It tasted terrible,” Eddie said.

Max laughed. It was an actual laugh, not just the fake giggles she attempted when the doctor made lame jokes.

“How about… Eddie And Demobats… Got Bad Ending.”

“Eddie And Dustin Give Badass Energy.”

“Eddie’s A Dinosaur. Go to Bed Early.”

“I’m not that old!” Eddie protested

“Eddie ate drugs. Got big eyes.”

“That’s a good one. You ready for the next lesson?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, this is called the nut. Hey! No laughing! That’s actually what it’s called!”

Lucas stood in the doorway to Max's room and watched her laugh. It was a rusty sound, and sounded painful, but it was there. It was music.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Bill Monroe challenges Mcgucket to a dueling banjo session. Who wins?

XD Here goes an unnecessarily detailed answer, as one might expect from me.

Father of Bluegrass Bill Monroe (1911-1996) was a virtuosic mandolinist (also no slouch on guitar) who incorporated fiddling influences into his playing. Rather than an old-style shimmering tremelo, Bill Monroe attacked the strings in an impressive combination of rhythmic adroitness and dogged melody. His playing had rhythmic quirks bluegrass mandolinists tease on today, but I think it augments rather than detracts from his iconic sound.

Historically speaking, Monroe stepped the game up for virtuosity in American country music. Even when he was in his twenties, performing duos and trios with his brothers on the radio in a more old-time style, his technical alacrity caught attention. Monroe fashioned bluegrass with blues and even jazz influences, such as the idea of instrumentalists taking turns doing technical instrumental breaks, one after the other. Thus, not only did he have to be at a high standard, but he pushed everyone in his band to match it. This man regularly performed hundreds of songs at a whim with good ear and improv ability.

Now, Fidds, my beloved... how does he compare? We hear relatively little of Fiddleford McGucket's banjo picking in Gravity Falls. What information we could glean is contradictory due to animation and sound design inaccuracy. I apologize for upcoming jargon, but I'll explain. ;)

McGucket owns multiple banjos. All banjos he's owned lack planetary tuners, which tends to indicate a low-cost banjo beginners and non-serious players use. However, given as McGucket has dedicatedly played banjo since at least the 1970s, and is dedicated enough to own a collection, this suggests a more invested player. (Of course, you can play for years and be passionate and still suck, but there's a higher chance you're good, hah!) Looking at the meta context, the animators would have no idea they were connotating lower-end instruments, so let's go with writing intent: McGucket is the banjo guy playing with love and passion for decades.

McGucket is most often seen with open-backs, but also has had a Seeger (long-neck) banjo and a resonator. Open-back and Seeger banjos suggest McGucket plays in the old-time style, which is (often) based on repeated rhythms and chords. That we've never seen Fiddleford McGucket wear finger picks also matches old-time. Now, I love old-time, it's gorgeous. But. Old-time banjo doesn't... shred... so in a dueling session, this would be trumped by Monroe's more advanced approach.

On the other hand, McGucket has a resonator. Resonator banjos can and have been used for old-time styles, but in general: if you have a resonator, you're a three-finger style bluegrass picker. This is a very different technique than old-time and will start to put McGucket in the competition. It's also said in Journal 3 he loves listening to high-intensity bluegrass, and when we hear sound clips of McGucket playing, it's in the three-finger bluegrass style. They animate him wrong to be making those sounds, but those are the sounds they're evoking. So, given animation is always inaccurate depicting instruments and performance, bluegrass is the genre associated most directly with McGucket, the animators and maybe even composer might've had no knowledge of old-time and its sounds, and the soundtrack always evokes bluegrass-style banjo... the Gravity Falls team probably wanted to indicate McGucket played bluegrass-style banjo.

I'm not on a computer with speakers to listen to McGucket playing, but I distinctly remember A Tale of Two Stans. I can and have played that riff. I'll transcribe (more or less) it by memory rn.

McGucket is approximately playing the first few measures of Foggy Mountain Breakdown with the barcodes pulled off. He starts with the Foggy Mountain roll on a G chord, then descends to do a forward roll on an e minor chord. Without jargon, this means he's playing two very simple right hand patterns. These patterns are ones a baby banjo picker would learn in their first month playing.

And that's exactly what happened when you know how the soundtrack developed! Gravity Falls' composer learned some banjo for GF. He's doing what I would... learn baby-baby basics so you can record an instrument live. But this means that, because he learned juuuust enough to get the banjo sound in GF (S1 banjo sounds worse than S2 because of this learning curve, too), he can't depict McGucket as a skilled picker. He does an impressive job with the above measures given his inexperience (the tone is better than I'd expect), but the material itself is rudimentary.

Contrast this with Bill Monroe in one of his beloved instrumentals, Southern Flavor (he is the mandolinist who starts the song, first soloist):

Given what Gravity Falls put in the show, McGucket wouldn't stand a chance against Monroe. McGucket wouldn't get hired by Monroe. Obviously we have to do legwork to go beyond imperfect depictions - the limited knowledge and playing ability of animators and composer - so it's very fair to say McGucket is better than anything presented. But, even then, he's got zero shot competing against a professional who expanded virtuosity of a music style and forced musicians around him to get up to his level. Bluegrass had come into its own and many, many, many amateur players were playing breathtakingly by the 1960s and 1970s. But you ain't gonna beat the master who got 'em all there.

[awalkthroughiris]

U2’s The Joshua Tree

hi people! i have no idea what i'm doing but i wanted to post this before i forgot to hehe, i wrote this a little bit ago, but i wanted to share, i fully don't expect anyone to read this but if you do, let me know what you think! i'm so sorry if the formatting is weird, i've never used tumblr LOL.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listening to U2’s The Joshua Tree for the first time,

randomly 1-2am on a Friday night.

I’m actively finishing the first track, Where the Streets Have No Name, as I’m writing this. I’m not sure why I’m here, or why I’m awake even, but here I am listening to my first U2 album. I’ve of course heard of U2 before, my parents have played their music throughout my childhood, but the only song I could name is With or Without You, and I honestly don’t even know 90% of that song. Recently, I’ve been listening to the band Inhaler, who’s frontman is Bono’s son, Elijah Hewson, and my parents heard me listening and nonstop talking about them, which in turn has become them telling me to listen to a U2 album. I don’t know why I’m deciding to listen now, but I feel like maybe I’ll have some cinematic existential revelation by listening to this album, but that’s the romantic in me talking.

Okay, about to start track 2 now, but I love track 1, it made me want to drive, somewhere where there’s an arch of trees with arms of sunlight reaching my face. Now that I’m thinking about it, that makes complete sense in terms of the lyrics lol. I guess the same message was conveyed musically as well.

The production of the second track, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” is very pleasing to my ears. This song is distantly familiar to me, I can think of driving to Oregon in the summertime, venturing back roads and this song playing, maybe after Lovers in Japan by Coldplay played. As someone who believes in God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, I can’t help but feel emotional while listening, but this could also be my nostalgic ties.

With this gentle emotional twist in my stomach, and the building of tears in my eyes, With or Without You has begun. My dad said recently how “emotionally evocative” this song is for him, and to be honest I didn’t and probably still don’t understand the way he meant it, but with the placement of this track in the album, I certainly can’t help but feel emotional. It’s giving me a similar feeling to the song A Real Hero in the context of the movie Drive did for me the first time I watched it. The lyrics are so simple yet I find there’s so many ideas and situations I can attach to them. I almost feel as if any interpretation I have would be invalid since I’m just a teenage girl, and a teenage girl who’s never even fallen in love or honestly had any remotely intense romantic feelings.

A switch in pace, Bullet the Blue Sky is playing. It’s easy to feel the angst in the lyrics, with the repetition in the drums and bass, it weirdly feels like slam poetry. This isn’t something I would typically listen to, but I definitely don’t mind it, the guitar break provided a nice amount of time to just, think.

Running to Stand Still’s intro reminded me of a Jeff Buckley cover, Lost Highway. It also makes me think of folk music. The way thoughts in folk music are expressed seemed to be some factor in the way the song is structured, honestly no idea whether that is intentional or not.

Red Hill Mining Town, took a turn I wasn’t expecting at all, I’m kinda grooving out though right now. “You I can’t live without”, since this is a first listen I don’t know the tie, but an allusion to With or Without You?? Oh my goodness, I totally recognize this song as well, the “I’m hanging on” that kicked in around 1:25 is something I recall. It’s weird how my brain hAnGs On to specific parts of these songs. I need to revisit this song after doing some research though because I have no idea what the commentary on this song is for.

There’s so much energy in In God’s Country, it’s refreshing. One of the things I notice with my music taste is that there’s a lack of creative percussion. Which I certainly don’t mind, but listening to music like this helps me understand how, for lack of better words, bland, the other songs can be percussion wise. I don’t have any context to who Bono is really, besides that he’s seemingly been painted as some sort of insufferable humanitarian, but the religion driven metaphors in the lyrics are very interesting.

Trip Through Your Wires might be my least favorite song sonically honestly. I don’t want to be mean, but it just isn’t my favorite. I’m not entirely sure what it’s reminding me of, but it gives me the feeling of an old western setting, which I find, not bland or empty, just not my cup of tea I guess. A complete sidenote though, I am DEFINITELY getting tired as it has hit 2am now.

I’m really liking One Tree Hill so far. One thing I’m really liking about this album, is the places it literally takes my mind to. I think I’m a very visual thinker, these songs evoke blurry pictures that are grounded in nature, images like running through tall grass or driving in some of my favorite places that remind me of my childhood. It feels pretentious to say “my childhood” when I’m 17, but I think it’s easy to understand what I mean. On another more relevant note, this song feels like its painting out an image of what absorbing life feels like: ambedo.

Although it might be the “weirdest” song on the album thus far, I’m enjoying the sonics of Exit. I like how bass heavy it is. Upon further inspection, because I had zero understanding to make of the lyrics, this song was made from the perspective of a serial killer, due to Bono’s reading of a novel. What I found creepily interesting however, was the fact that Robert Bardo used this song as part of his defense for stalking and murdering Rebecca Schaeffer. What I find especially creepy about this, is that I listened to a podcast about this case. An unsettling coincidence.

Continuing on in this unsettling feeling, Mothers of the Disappeared is a heart-wrenching tribute. I don’t think I have much to say about this one, because I have just learned the context to the song’s making and it’s just heartbreaking, I can’t even imagine what families went through. It’s a needed not-so-gentle reminder of what reality can be, and what it is for a lot of people. Its easy to forget that the horrors we hear of are actually real, at least this is the case for me, a girl who has lived in the same city her whole life and generally stays blissfully ignorant. A great finish to the album.

[pretendfan]

{It’s my party…}

(A/N I have no idea it’s probably rushed and a mess but enjoy🤣😍💦Happy birthday bby❤️)

Adrian Chase Appreciation Week

Day 7 / Birthday🎉

(Pairing)

Adrian Chase x Female reader

(Summary)

It’s his party and Adrian Chase can leave whenever he wants to, until you give him the promise of the best present ever…

(Words)

3447

(Warnings)

18 PLUS ONLY, mention of drinking, oral sex (male/female receiving), p in v action, buzzed but consenting, flirty and fluff, smut time, cute ending of course, idiots in love damn right….

Adrian was having the best birthday ever, even better than the Halloween theme party he had aged ten, but that did of course confuse a lot of kids because his birthday was in June.

Fast forward to right now, aged 31 and he was living his best life, hash tag blessed or whatever because his team had set up a surprise party with lots of booze and you were here as well.

Two weeks ago right here at the HQ when all the other 11th street kids had left, you and Adrian had finally hooked up and it had been so much fun.

Yet since then you had kind of ignored him, despite Adrian noticing you watching his every move around the office so he knew this was something worth investigating.

Adrian knew you as Lady Bird, a terrible name because your costume looked nothing like said bug but more importantly you knew that he was Vigilante.

So right off the bat you two were on equal grounds, anti heroes of Evergreen who assisted his BFF Peacemaker and the other losers who occupied the task force, all here at the HQ just for him.

Chris was in charge of music tonight and even Adebayo’s wife was here, playing air guitar at all the wrong moments but she was having fun, at his party.

Adrian notices you off in the distance, keeping to yourself whilst holding a red solo cup in your hand, he had barely spoken to you tonight so he chose now to be the best starting point.

Not overly drunk but just a little buzzed, Adrian walks over to you with a smirk when he notices you smiling as he stops beside you.

“Happy-“

“So, have you been thinking about that night as much as I have?” Adrian ask leaning closer to you so he could whisper but he was hardly being quiet.

“What night?” You question causing Adrian to stand back up and reward you with a pouty look on his face which makes you smile.

“I’m joking, it was fun.” You smirk nudging your shoulder against his arm which makes him grin down at you happily.

“Right? So I was wondering-“

“Let’s leave the party together?” You ask him with a wink, because you hated gatherings but loved actually leaving parties.

“But it’s my party?” Adrian questions like the last thing he wanted to do was leave the HQ.

“I could make-“

“Hey, let’s party!!!!“ Adebayo cuts you off with a cheer which annoys you until Adrian grabs you by the hand and spins you round.

“Let’s dance-“

“I’m not a-“

Adrian ignores your pleas as he pulls you closer and starts bouncing on his feet, which makes you smile as you watch him pogo up and down on the spot.

The music changed to cheesy eighties tunes which make you smile, and Adrian notices as he grabs you around the waist to pull you closer towards him.

“I’m never gonna give you up-“

“Please don’t sing to me!“ you giggle whilst Adrian sings into your ear, head dipped close to yours as you look up to see Adebayo smiling at you both.

“This is our song now!” Adrian declares leaning back to smile at you as he adds “We work well as a team let’s make it more fun.”

“Let’s leave the party then.” You tell him urgently which makes Adrian arch an eyebrow.

“I can’t-“

“I need to give you your present.” You tell him in flirty voice which obviously gets his attention.

“Ohh present! What is it?” Adrian questions then proceeds to list off a twenty or so useless things he wanted.

“It’s me!” You yell trying to get his attention again before Adrian carried on with wish list.

“You?!” Adrian asks with a boyish smirk on his face.

“I want to give-“

“Does the birthday boy need another drink?” Chris announces whilst cutting you off which of course annoys you but neither of them notice as Adrian is pulled away from you.

Frustrated you had hoped to have been long gone from here by now, biding your time until you could speak to the birthday boy alone and take him back to your place.

It had been fun, the other week at HQ and now you desperately wanted a repeat, plus you knew Adrian was game you just had to get his full attention, and you knew exactly how.

Adrian watches you head out of the office hoping that you wasn’t escaping the party, very close to following you but John starts yelling in his face so he pretends to listen to him instead.

All the while he was wondering what you meant by being his present, he had many thoughts all of which were causing his jeans to tighten and a grin to spread across his face.

Smiling to yourself as you exit the bathroom round the back of the HQ, you head towards the front office on a mission to find Adrian and hopefully have him leave with you.

Adrian cannot help but grin when he spots you re enter the room, a smug smile on your face which intrigues him as you approach standing beside Chris and John who were arguing about something.

“I’m taking Adrian for a second.” You told the guys who were currently lost in their own conversation, so you pulled on Adrian’s arm dragging him towards the office door.

“What’s up-“

“Here.” You hand Adrian the underwear you had taken off in the bathroom, watching as his eyes widen when he realises what he’s holding looking down at you in wonder.

“These are-“

“Come meet me outside in five I’m calling us an Uber back to my place.” You wink at Adrian hoping that now he will get the hint and follow you outside.

Adrian just stands there unsure of his next move whilst he gripped tightly onto the warm fabric in his hand, how was he going to get out of here?

Pocketing the underwear in his jeans, Adrian notices the various states that the team were in, maybe he would avoid Chris and head straight to Harcourt letting her know he was gonna leave.

He would be an idiot not to, but he did kind of wanted to spend more time here even though you were waiting outside for him, wearing a short skirt and no underwear which was the deciding factor for Adrian.

“Hey I’m going-“

“You can’t leave!” Laughs Harcourt with a smile clearly she was drunk, because Adrian had never seen her grin so widely ever before even after a mission.

“I’m taking Lady bird home-“

“Oh really!?” Announces Harcourt winking or at least trying to wink using both her eyes like she was just slowly blinking at him which causes Adrian to chuckle.

“Yeah it’s nothing-“

“Be safe!” Harcourt laughs then patting Adrian on the head like he had done something good she walks off towards Chris.

That was actually easier than he had thought, able to sneak out Adrian glances back to see the team too occupied to notice him leave, which makes him smile.

Outside he spots you on the sidewalk, waiting for the Uber he hoped to take you both to your place , Adrian wanted to literally bounce with excitement but he tried to control the impulse.

“It’s my party, and I can leave if I want to…” Adrian states from behind you his flat hand ghosting across the curve of your ass to make sure the peach coloured skirt didn’t lift up.

“So you’re joining me?” You ask him turning round to face Adrian who glances down with a sexy grin that frames his face.

“You’re my present right-“

“Hey!!” Chris yells causing Adrian to stop talking making you both look round to see the hero in the too tight costume holding his hands up in drunken confusion.

“I’m leaving-“

“Harcourt told me, you two are fucking g-g-going y-“ Chris starts then proceeds to burp loudly which makes you pull a face and Adrian chuckle stupidly.

“Yes, we’re going back to my place.” You tell Chris which makes Adrian’s eyes bug, followed by Peacemaker’s who looks shocked to say the least.

“With him?!” Chris scoffs then shakes his head adding “I take it you like nerds.”

“I’m not a nerd-“

“Fuck yeah I do!” You smirk then stepping forward you pull Adrian closer by grabbing the front of his grey tee shirt, making your lips finally lock in place once again and it was actual bliss.

Adrian ignores Chris’ laughing to pull you closer towards him, his other hand still on your ass protectively because he didn’t want anyone else to see any part of you.

It felt so good to have you this close smelling of warm vanilla and tasting like pure sin, the way your tongue was gliding across his was making him beyond frustrated, he needed you like yesterday and the day before that.

Hearing a horn beep makes you break apart, thankfully Chris had gone back into the HQ by then, leaving you two alone as he follows up to the car back to your place.

“Car for lady?” The middle aged guy questions making you nod and Adrian help you into the back seat.

“I will need to know your real name soon.” Begins Adrian leaning closer to you as the car finally drives off then he adds in a low voice “Because I want to shout it out whilst we are fucking again.”

“That was such a cheesy line-“

“It wasn’t a line.” Adrian states back in a deep voice that has you glancing at him with a smirk on your face.

“Well it’s worked!” You laugh making Adrian grin then seconds later his lips find yours and you continue what you started in the sidewalk.

You gasp when you feel Adrian place one of his hands on your lap then let’s it wrap against your thighs spreading his palm flat his fingers gripping hard into the soft skin.

“I know we should wait but I want to have alittle fun-“

“We can’t!” You whisper-hiss at Adrian placing your hand over his in case the driver could look back and see where your team mates hand was currently sitting.

“I just want to feel how wet you are already for me.” Adrian whispers back in your ear whilst you sigh from his dirty mouth, knowing you were already soaked and ready for him.

Adrian chuckles as you move your legs but just enough for him to notice, moving his hand so his fingers met the apex of your thighs at the same time you try to stifle a moan.

“Fuck, you are already so wet.” Adrian states in a deep voice, brushing several of his fingers over your soaked folds with your hand covering his for some privacy.

“Please!” You begin with a soft whine then swiftly add “This car probably has a camera and you are breaking the law Vig-“

“Shit! Fine, but how far till we get to your place because I am in physical pain right now.” Adrian cuts you off with a groan making you both look down at the apparent bulge framing his jeans whilst he grudgingly move his hand away from you.

“I can help with that.” You smile whilst licking your tongue along your bottom lip which causes Adrian to groan once again.

“We’re here.” The driver announces abruptly making you wonder if he had heard any of your conversation, but right this second you couldn’t care less.

Rushing to your tiny apartment, Adrian waits until you have opened your door and then he is on you even before you can close said door behind you.

With his hands pulling you closer whilst you slammed your door, knowing you would get complaints from your neighbours but right now all you cared about was this night with Adrian.

All because you had wanted a repeat of what had happened at HQ but wasn’t sure how to instigate it until now, this was perfect and you were more than ready.

Guiding Adrian over to your couch you push him back so he falls down, and watches with wide green eyes as you sink down in front of him on your knees.

“Let me help you.” You demand undoing Adrian’s belt then follow it with his zip, a little surprised to see he wasn’t wearing any boxers when you saw his thick cock revealing itself.

Slowly gliding your hand up Adrian’s hard shaft, you wrap it around him tightly which makes his hips jerk up from your touch.

“Be good or I won’t suck your cock.” You tell Adrian who instantly shudders from your words but he stills himself looking up at you with half lidded eyes.

“Ok.” Adrian nods in a small voice which rewards him a stroke of your hand up and down his length which has him tipping his head back.

“Your doing so good.” You tell Adrian who you notice has a pink tinge across his cheeks after he has heard your praise which makes him look so pretty.

“Yeah-“ Adrian smiles already breathless as you continue to slowly pump him watching as his eyes roll back in his head.

“That’s enough of that.” You soon demand moving your hand away which makes Adrian groan but he stops when you replace it with your warm mouth.

“Oh fuck!“ Adrian chokes as you slowly fill your mouth with his cock, hollowing out your cheeks to take as much of him as you can until his head hits the back of your throat.

You just stay there for a few moments lips wrapped near the base of Adrian’s dick, any further down and you would be gagging.

“Wow, your mouth feels so good!” Adrian whines at the same time you slide your tongue up the underside which makes him hiss in response.

Moving your head you look up at Adrian whose eyes spring open, his lips falling open whilst you fuck him with your mouth whilst placing your hands on his thighs tightly.

You sigh onto Adrian’s cock when you feel his hand card through your mid length hair, letting them rest on either side of your head whilst he slowly rocks his hips upwards ever so gently.

“Fuck, this is amazing!” Adrian grits his teeth as he lifts his hips higher, hitting your mouth deeper causing you to gag and him stroke your face.

“You are doing so fucking well, I’m close but I don’t-“

Adrian doesn’t finish that sentence as you swallow more of him, your nose hitting the base of his cock making him cry out and grip your hair tight as he continues to rock himself still inside your mouth.

Slowly moving your head up you introduce your hand, jerking him with your spit with some still hanging from your lips whilst you hear Adrian’s groans getting louder.

“Oh fuck! I need-“

Adrian stops talking as mindless half curses fall from his mouth at the same time, the hot sting of his cum shoots down your throat and you swallow every last drop.

Gently licking his cock until he cannot take anymore, moving your head not forcefully as he strokes down the side of your face affectionately making you look up to see his smiling red face.

“Happy birthday, to me!” He laughs looking down at you with a wicked grin on his face that makes you lean forward to kiss him which he gladly accepts.

“Little Adrian will need a moment, so I want you to switch places with me on the couch.” Adrian tells you in a quietly firm voice that has you doing exactly as he says.

Taking a seat he stands and removes his jeans in one fluid motion, with his grey tee shirt and following suit then he places his glasses next to you folded up neatly dropping to the floor o front of you.

“See, I never got to eat your pussy when we fucked at the HQ and I have wanted to ever since.” Adrian grins then before you can reply he lifts up your skirt then buries his head in between your thighs, his burning mouth covering your soaked cunt.

“Oh!-“ You cry out as Adrian spreads your folds with one of his large hands then inserts his tongue teasing your hole, whilst your pussy muscles throb in delight from the intrusion.

You look down to see the back of Adrian’s head bobbing away under your skirt, making you reach out a hand to grab onto his hair tightly, whilst he continued to tease you with his well versed tongue.

“That is-“

Adrian soon moves his mouth to cover your clit his lips just brushing against the bundle of nerves, which lights up your brain causing your thighs to quiver with excitement.

“I need you!” You cry out when he gently licks your clit with a teasing flick from the tip of his tongue that has your hips snapping up.

“Let me fuck you then!” Adrian states as he reappears from under your skirt, mouth and chin wet as he stands up telling you to turn around on your knees on the couch.

“Fuck yes!” You smirk turning round to feel Adrian’s hands shove your skirt up to your middle, then he pulls you back onto his cock the head brushing delicately against your folds.

“You ready?” Adrian asks in a teasing voice as he slowly moves his head against your slick pussy.

“Yes!” You cry out when seconds later Adrian let’s his cock disappear inside you groaning as he bottoms out and he moves a hand to the back of your neck which makes you gasp.

“Good girl.” Adrian declares as he fucks you at a fast pace which has you gripping onto the back of the couch cushion for support.

“You fuck me so well!” You yell as you arch your body over the couch sinking into Adrian’s relentless thrusts, his cock pulsing around your pussy walls causing you to whine in response.

“Lady you are just so fuck-able, I want to do this day in day out what do you say?” Adrian grunts the question at you whilst you smile to yourself.

“Right now I would say yes to anything!” You sigh with a giggle at the end which makes Adrian moan back.

“This so perfect, you are perfect especially your pussy I-“

“Harder, fuck me harder!” You cry out cutting off Adrian before he escalated and wouldn’t stop talking, it happens too often.

“Ugh! You say the hottest things lady-“

“It’s Y/N, my name!” You shudder as you feel the warmth from your imminent orgasm spread across your stomach and lower back at the same time your spring snaps causing you to scream out.

“Y/N, Y/N fuck!“ Adrian chants as he comes undone moments after, the pair of you both slowing your movements as you chase your highs into submission.

“That was the best birthday present ever.” Adrian tells you into your right ear which makes you turn round to face him, as with a smile he leans forward to gently kiss your lips.

“Happy birthday Adrian.” You tell him in between soft kisses that he spreads across your mouth and cheeks.

“Can I stay?” Adrian asks you faking a yawn which makes you smile at him.

“Only cos your super cute, but sure.” You grin back with an eye roll whilst Adrian fist pumps the air as you both collapse onto the couch together.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom then?” Adrian asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a soft giggle leaving his lips.

“Do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” You ask Adrian with a smile snuggling into his chest which he greatly accepts pulling you closer towards him.

“I feel like big spooning it tonight.” Laughs Adrian which makes you roll your eyes but nod as you stand from the couch taking his hand to make you follow him.

“Let’s go then!” You tell him your hand fitting into his perfectly as you guide him towards your bedroom, not wanting to end the night just yet because there was lots more to do yet.

“I can get used to this.” Adrian smirks laying down on the bed, pulling you closer towards him as he sends gentle kisses down your neck which makes your back arch against his chest.

“Yeah, me too.” You sigh softly which makes Adrian chuckle into your warm neck, as one of his hand ghosts around your waist pulling you flush against his hot body.

Let the fun really begin…

[colors-of-my-heart]

since this production has been living in my head rent free since I saw it a week ago… a cluttered (but comprehensive) list of notes on Phoenix College RTC.

- Virgil pre-show. he just skuttled around the stage for a full minute before the lights went down.

- without exaggeration, this was probably the most Virgil-heavy production of RTC to date. in every other version of the show I've seen, he does his little guitar solo at the beginning and then kind of just disappears for the next two hours. that was NOT the case here, my boy was kicking around for the entire show and for that I will be eternally grateful. 

- there were long stretches where he just sat there vibing to the music and shyly mimicking the choreography to himself. everyone was the amazing of course (and i’ll get to that) but Virgil in particular has my heart. - the set was super impressive!! you could definitely see inspiration from the Off-Broadway production in the colors, patterns and set pieces. the thing that stuck out to me the most in its uniqueness was the big crystal ball cutout they used for the bumper footage and projections. 

- golden cast. perfect. iconic. not a single ass was halved. everyone fit their roles perfectly, brought so much personality and flair to them, and had amazing chemistry with one another.

- Virgil immediately terrifying the choir the moment they arrived in the afterlife, and then proceeding to poke Noel in the back repeatedly with his tail and then pretend like nothing happened the entire time Karnak introduced himself

- l don’t know if the actor playing Noel had a lot of friends in the audience, if everyone was just very familiar with RTC, or if his stage presence was just that powerful, but everyone lost their minds whenever he did ANYTHING (and deservedly so).

- Mischa had a very large and very clearly homemade tattoo of Talia’s name on his forearm 🥺

- The audience yet again loses its collective mind the moment Jane enters (the energy in this theater was feral in the best way possible)

- Noel is absolutely captivated during Jane’s monologue and claps ferociously when she finishes

- Noel cackles maniacally when Karnak explains that the winner will be chosen by unanimous vote after WTWN

- Noel aggressively flipping off Ocean the moment she turns away after the “you challenged my preconceived notion that all gay dudes are fun the be around” comment (the sibling-rivalry-esque energy between these two was immaculate here)

- Noel gestures towards Mischa while delivering the “I wanted a man who would drive me to drink” line

- The feather boa during Noel’s Lament was absolutely distrintigrating, like every little movement sent a flurry of little green fuzzies adrift. by the end of the number it was basically a string with a few spare feathers clinging on for dear life, and while it was almost certainly unintentional, let me tell you it WORKED. it’s what Monique would have wanted.

- “In my home country it is natural for two men to show affection by kissing… nnnot always in heeeelssss 😏🥴” this production very much said nischa real

- Mischa trying to stare down Ocean after the “my song will only have profanity in chorus” line only to get intimidated and back off

- clips of what seemed to be a homemade music video were interspersed throughout Mischa’s bumper and it was delightful

- ALSO he was wearing a custom Bad Egg hat and WHERE DO I GET ONE

- I didn’t put the pieces together until way later when I saw someone else point it out, but when they showed the projections of Talia, apparently it was just Noel in a wig. I was very confused why everyone was laughing when she appeared, I’m not good with faces ok

- Ricky awkwardly joins in when Noel and Mischa hug it out after Talia. He was third-wheeling it big time but it’s the thought that counts ❤️

- During SABM, when Ricky goes behind the curtains with the cat ladies, Cat!Mischa and Cat!Noel cover their ears in discomfort until he comes backs out in his costume change (which included a silver helmet and arm bands. Iconic).

- Ricky got the crowd to clap in time with music near the end of the song and it quite literally felt like a religious experience

- TBOJD was so good holy fucking fuck

- the actress portraying Jane just had a fantastic voice and captured her physicality so so well. her deadpan expression was unwavering and just everything about her was so tragic and haunting

- the members of the choir carried these black funeral umbrellas throughout the number, but when it reached the ragtime portion they flipped them to reveal Christmas lights underneath. there was an audible gasp across the audience when this happened and it gave me goosebumps

- Noel got absolutely SLOSHED after one swig of vodka and I would expect nothing less

- Constance looked like she’d been saving up that punch for a LONG LONG time, Ocean is lucky she was already dead because she did NOT hold back

- Right as she sang the word “heartbreaker”, Constance stepped on a light and it shattered. the timing was honestly so perfect it’s hard to say whether or not it was intentional? I’m going to go with it wasn’t because a stagehand came to sweep up the glass a minute later and the cast later had to sit on the floor of that general area. but it honestly added to much to the moment, gave me chills

- the audience proved itself to be the true villain of the show when Karnak said that in five minutes was his “appointment with a rat named Virgil” and several people cheered. LOOK I love him too but can we NOT encourage him?!?!?!

- karma came a few minutes later when we were forced to actually watch Virgil bite into the wire and convulse violently until he stopped moving :( F

- i felt like an asshole but I couldn’t help but giggle throughout the ending of Its Just A Ride because, as the choir was singing and dancing cheerfully in one final celebration of life, Virgil was just lying there in the Peter Griffin death pose like two feet away. there was one point where Constance did a little hop and I thought for a split second she was about to stomp on his hand

- besides the callous disregard of the corpses right next to them, they played around with some of the props from earlier in the show throughout the number and it was very organic and wholesome

- in a continuation of my favorite modern RTC production trope, they had Jane come out sans makeup (so now Penny) at the end of the show to round it out 🥺 this production gave me everything I wanted

I think that’s all of it but also the moment I hit post I’ll probably remember something else. point is though this was a very good production and I’ll probably never recover