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celestie0 · 20 days

Text

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer.

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was.

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal.

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far.

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.”

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft.

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji.

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin.

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more?

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story.

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was.

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad.

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it.

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.”

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them.

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood.

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you.

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up.

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them.

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena.

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast.

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up.

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them.

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet.

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off.

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight.

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue.

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath.

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm.

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet.

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you?

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it.

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty.

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to.

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue.

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you.

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.”

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough.

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad.

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you.

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable.

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest.

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him.

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking.

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

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ghostsy · 10 months

Text

Smile For the Camera

WARNINGS: yandere, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, abuse of power, slight codependency, non-consensual implications, implied nsfw, implied forced pregnancy, lot of implications lol

A/N: been sitting in the drafts for a while, figured i should get smth out, hopefully it's alright ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER

“Her eyes are up there, creep.”

She had to resist the urge to sigh, lip twisting in slight pity, watching the boy stammer out an apology as he fumbled with the mic at her chest. She scoffed internally. Was he supposed to put it on blindfolded? She turned to her lover, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile.

It’s okay. I’m okay.

Crimson irises met her own, hesitating a bit as his jaw tightened reflexively. He smacked his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes, and turned to the host who was shuffling through her cue cards. Memorizing her lines, it seemed.

“I don’t want any of that surprise shit, alright?” His voice was laced with the sort of irritation that would normally send her on full alert. They were in public right now, though, and callous, gruff reputation aside, he was no idiot, “We’ll walk out; I’m not fuckin’ kidding, we’ve done it before.”

The host laughed out his name–his hero name–nervously, “Of course not, sir. All of our questions were sent to your assistant for prior approval,” As she caught his unimpressed stare, she stumbled out another placation, “But, I mean–Of course, if you–you’re more than welcome to look over them again, sir.”

“Fuckin’ stop it with that–‘sir’--makes me feel old as shit.” Did it? That was news to her. He certainly liked it when it came from her lips. Her mind wandered to its most recent recollection. When she was forced to her knees, his hand at the back of her neck, pooling the tears from her eyes at the dip where her cheek met the pillow–she couldn’t remember what she’d done wrong that time.

Where he’d brought his lips to her ear, C’mon, voice rough and deep, Ask me nicely, now, And, raising his voice a few octaves to mock her, Please, sir. He huffed out an ugly laugh, Please give me your cock, sir. God, she hadn’t been able to walk straight for days, legs and dignity sore and bruised from the abuse–only one of which ever really seemed to recover.

“Of course, si–Of course. We’re on in–We’ll be ready in five, if that’s alright?” He gave the woman a curt nod, and she’d shuffled off to the stage to prepare, calling the intern tending to her to follow, a direction the boy took with palpable relief, eyes brushing her own apologetically before he hurried off.

“Hey,” The blonde’s attention was turned back to her, and he stalked forward, “Last one, alright?” He brought his hand to her cheek in comfort, though all she could think of was the ease at which he could snap her neck between his fingers without so much as blinking.

She shook herself from her thoughts, humming, and brought her hand to cup his own, leaning into his touch. “It’s alright,” At least I’m outside, she wanted to say, “Long as I’m with you, I’m alright.”

His eyes softened at her answer, and he opened his mouth to reply when the lights dimmed, catching his attention. His hand dropped to catch her own, lacing their fingers together, tightening with tension. She had to resist the urge to wince. Though entirely different in circumstance, she felt slight vindication for his fear, no matter how fleeting. She’d take what little wins she could get.

She was pulled back to reality by the tug of his hand, and let him lead her to the couch across from the host. Fuck. Looking out at the crowd, she remembered how much she really did hate these things. Hundreds of smiling faces, millions more behind the camera, all glinting with pity–for all the wrong reasons–and cooing at the sickeningly sweet story spun for the masses to cling to with glee, without question.

There was a call of her name, “And, how are you adjusting? After what you’ve been through,” What she’s been through. She suppressed a bitter laugh. As if it was all over, as if she was safe.

“It’s been hard, of course,” She’d rehearsed the lines in the mirror, and recited variations in numerous interviews before, “But I’m so grateful, you know,” That didn’t stop the tears that fought their way up her throat, “To have him by my side–he really is–he really,” God, the words felt like acid on her tongue, “He really is my hero.”

The crowd awed, and the host brought a hand to her chest, “How beautiful,” She caught his side eye–suspicious–and she squeezed his hand in reassurance, “The two of you–really the silver lining in an otherwise horrible happenstance.”

She laughed lightly, ignoring the burn in her chest, “I’m so grateful. I don’t know what–I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without him.” She moved to wrap her arm around his own, leaning into his shoulder. Time had conditioned the contact to feel like a sort of comfort.

The host smiled, and turned back to ask him a question, something about how he’d found her, how he’d saved her.

How had he found her? She remembered meeting him a few times before–she’d worked for the number one hero, his childhood friend–and he’d never spared her more than a cursory glance, and the exchange of brief, formal pleasantries while she sat in on their meetings, transcribing, taking notes, just doing her job.

“Was just doin’ my job,” Ha. Ironic. “S’what heroes do.” He looked at her for a moment, softly, and she wanted to tear his eyes out, “We save people and we fuckin’ win.” He gave his signature sharp, crooked smile, and the audience roared to life, hands clapping in misguided awe and appreciation.

How had he found her? What did she have that the millions of men and women and people that wanted him–that dreamed of him–didn’t? She wished she could erase it–tear out whatever part of her had captured his attention–maybe he’d have left her alone if she’d been able to kill it.

“The determination, the grit it must’ve taken,” The host started up again, “Years of searching, it’s truly amazing how you managed to save her.”

How had he saved her? He liked to remind her that that’s what he had done. She remembered being called into work late–a normal occurrence, but she still cursed herself for obliging that day–being met, not by her boss, but him. Maybe she would have said yes if he’d gone about it differently–if he’d taken her out on a date, brought her flowers, spoke to her softly and gently–but he wasn’t ever soft, and he wasn’t ever gentle.

“M’not a fuckin’ pussy, that’s how. I ain’t backin’ down from a challenge just ‘cause it’s hard.” Yeah. He never backed down from a challenge. Though, he never stopped to think that maybe a challenge was not a dare, not something to overcome, that maybe the challenge didn’t want to be a challenge at all. That this challenge didn’t want to be a conquest, that she wanted to be a person.

“And you,” The attention was back on her, “How strong you are,” She hated that look; everyone she met these days gave her that look, “The fear and pain you must’ve endured is unimaginable.” Well, she was half right, she supposed.

She was stupid to think she knew pain before–she didn’t know pain–not the kind of pain she’d come to call home these past years. The type of pain that came in the form of finger shaped burns, and ugly sticky white staining the inside of her thighs. The type of pain that was loud and angry and all consuming, that bruised her hips, rubbed her throat raw, left her aching and shaking and breaking. The type of pain that took and took and took until there was nothing left of her to give–and yet, still took more.

“Hopefully there’s some consolation,” The woman continued at her silence, “That the people who did this to you–who imprisoned you–have faced justice.”

She wanted to laugh until she screamed. She’d long been disillusioned with the idea of justice. Justice. Ha. What a joke. She’d made her peace with the hand she’d been dealt. Resigned herself to what cruel fate the god she didn’t believe in had bestowed upon her. Why then, why now, had he graced her with a window to her prison? She knew why. Subconsciously, her hand fell to trace along her stomach.

“It’s…relieving, to say the least.” She forced a laugh, and caught a look she took as approval on her warden’s face. “All I want to do now is settle down, move on…” She swallowed. Come on. You’ve done this a million times. “Start our family.”

He took his arm from her grip to wrap around her shoulders, flashing a sharp smile, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Her cheeks heated–more from annoyance than embarrassment–but the crowd awed all the same. “Strongest damn person I’ve ever met.”

Strong? That was a new one. Usually she’d get the opposite; weak, helpless, quirkless. Was she strong? She could find a million reasons to contradict the idea. Someone strong would’ve fought, would’ve kicked and screamed and cried until someone–anyone–listened to her, until she truly was free. She’d rolled over and shown her belly so easily, hadn’t she?

No. She did fight. She’d gone through all the kicking and screaming and crying she could. But the years had worn her down. She found it was easier–and less painful–to let him have his way. He could be soft when he had his way; he could be gentle when he had his way; she decided she liked it when he was soft and gentle. And so, he had his way.

Still. Someone, not her, could make the case that she couldn’t be strong at all, to go along with this farce. And to this person she’d point them to–

“The Hero Commission truly is an outstanding institution,” The universe had a sick sense of humor, didn’t it? “To keep a case like this–no leads–open so long,” The host smiled a smile with too many teeth, “We are so lucky to have the protection from such noble leaders.”

He replied, something about heroes and how great and strong and infallible they were. She was too busy fantasizing about how lovely the world would’ve been had it been turned to ash and dust all those years ago.

Because, honestly. How bad could the villains be? If it was a hero that had imprisoned her. A hero who had stolen her from her life and raped her and impregnated her all in the name of love. How bad could the villains be if it was the heroes who kept her trapped in this joke of a life? She decided she liked villains more than heroes. At the very least, they owned up to their crimes.

She turned to look at him, his sharp features, built like a tank, and yet, still entirely too pretty for the devastation he had wrought upon her. She couldn’t tell if he was a hero or a villain. She couldn’t tell if she hated him or if she loved him.

“I ain’t into all that sappy shit,” He started, “But, end of the day, I’m the luckiest fucker in the world havin’ her here with me. Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

Both? Maybe it was both. Could you hate someone you loved? Could you love someone you hated? He lifted his arm to ruffle her hair, and she decided it didn’t matter. She’d long resigned herself to this fate; what was another resignation?

“No,” She turned as the audience roared to life, “Not a single thing.”

And she smiled for the camera.

#yandere bnha #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugou katsuki x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki x reader #yandere mha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere katsuki

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taintedcigs · 10 months

Text

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SEVEN: SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS

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✦ summary: in which corroded coffin performs at the hideout (wc: 9.3k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF, jealousy, jealous!menace!eddie, the kiddos make an appearance!!!, uhmm kissing,,, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, uhm thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. SO VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. hopefully this makes up for it. as usual the song is by arctic monkeys, and the other song mentioned is lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. but we'll pretend like its all by corroded coffin so shshsh.

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

“Dude, I’m telling you it was not my fault.” Gareth exasperated desperately, hands up in the air in defeat.

But Eddie was quick to shake his head, “You drove her here, how is it not your fucking fault, Gareth?” He spat, bitter and angry.

“She insisted! She wants to apologize to Pinky!”

“What?” Confusion etched across Eddie’s face.

With an annoyed sigh, “Yeah, the whole fuckin’ world has to revolve around her,” Gareth muttered under his breath, knowing that saying anything about you would drive Eddie crazy.

“Watch it,” Eddie warned, mouth downturned in disgust almost immediately.

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Gareth, I’m not gonna tell you this a second fuckin’ time, okay? Don’t do that shit around me and never say one fucking word about her again, you got that?” He gritted through his teeth, his hand unintentionally clenching into a fist.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I mean it,” Eddie spat.

“Fine, fine!” Gareth threw his hands up in defeat, both of them downing their drink before scurrying away.

Shit.

You knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to get a drink for the group, surfing through the sea of people—which was unusual for The Hideout. Still, you guessed the only celebrity from Hawkins was enough to have people swarming in, and Gareth and Eddie happened to be chatting right behind you.

Even though it stung to hear Gareth talk of you like you were the fucking anti-christ, hearing Eddie defend you like that had that familiar warmth spread through your entire body. And you hated it, you hated the soft spot you’d always have for him, how it would take you back to five years ago when he would be there for you, every single time.

Fucking great, you had so many people to avoid tonight; Chrissy, Gareth, and Eddie.

With a sigh, you quickly disappeared into the crowd, carrying a tray of drinks for everyone. Plopping it on the booth with a slight sloosh.

Everyone reached for it and you were quick to slap away Max, Lucas, and Dustin’s curious hands. “Oh, come on!” Max protested with a groan.

“Not legal,” you hummed with a narrowed gaze. “Yeah, I’m sure you were legal when you were shotgunning beers and smoking joints like it was your lifeline during senior year,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, quick to get settled into his seat with a huff.

You gasped dramatically, “Lucas Sinclair!” Exclaiming as he gave you a simple shrug.

“So what’s new with you and Mr. Rockstar, now?” He teased, and you narrowed your gaze at Max who snickered underneath her hand.

“Nothing,” You mumbled, shying away from everyone’s gaze on you.

“Good thing, we can always ask the other party, too,” Dustin chimed in with a smirk, head pointing toward behind you.

There was a slow tap on your shoulder and you were quick to jerk your body around.

Of course.

Eddie.

His soft gaze was dumbly addicting, that boyish grin curled deliciously on his lips while amber eyes took you in wholly.

His gaze wandered to your figure, the midnight blue dress embracing your figure, accentuating your curves, its hem grazed against your mid-thigh, allowing him to get a glimpse of your sun-kissed legs, simple but exuding how breathtakingly pretty you were.

He couldn’t place why your brows were so tightly pinched together, or why your arms were crossed against your chest, plump lips downturned with a pout. Still, you looked so pretty, so alluring that he could barely form any sentence.

Mind captured entirely by you, almost feeling paralyzed while he took you in.

“H—hey!” He stammered, awkwardly putting his hands in the back pocket of his chained black jeans. He was just him, and oh, god, you were you.

Plush lips that curled into the prettiest smile, the most captivating eyes, even when you seemingly looked upset, brows pinched together, those glossy lips downturned, you were perfect.

You ignored Eddie’s greeting, your piercing glare was still not that noticeable to him, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked, and how he was glad that he saw you before his set. He wanted nothing more than to see you watching him perform the songs he wrote all about you.

“Wow… Uhh—you look… amazing,” He mumbled, breath getting hitched on his throat when he saw your unreadable expression.

And all you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile. Almost immediately wiping that glow off of his face, face going momentarily blank.

But he should’ve expected this, he knew you wouldn’t jump into his arms at any opportunity, he deserved this. He needed to do more, he needed to win you back.

He opened his mouth to speak, desperate, needing your approval, but you interrupted. “I—I’m going to get a drink,” you mumbled, face flushed with heat, you didn’t know how to act either.

Eddie glanced over at the tray of drinks on the booth, with his head tilted, “there’s a bunch of drinks over there,” he mumbled, he didn’t want you to leave.

“I can see that, but I still want my own,” you sassed with a narrowed gaze, not letting him talk back once you left to go to the bar.

Eddie watched your figure leave with a deep sigh, turning to the booth to take one of the drinks. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Steve muttered with a nod, and Eddie was quick to give him a death glare.

“So, will you finally enlighten us on what happened with you and Mrs. Grumpy over there?” Dustin huffed impatiently, grabbing three drinks from the tray now that you were gone, handing the other two to Max and Lucas with a grin.

“She didn’t tell you guys?”

“No! Which is a shame because she usually can’t say no to my adorable face.” Dustin blinked quickly, batting his eyelashes while Eddie shook his head at him with a chuckle.

“Oh c’mon, Eddie, just tell us!” Max let out an impatient huff, her captivating icy blue gaze was pleading in a way that he could never say no to.

These doofuses would always be his weakness.

“Yeah, Eddie, pretty please?” Lucas added exaggeratedly, mocking Max as she hit him in the chest playfully.

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, running his hand over his forehead in frustration.

“But nothing really happened and I don’t think it’s—” When he felt everyone’s gaze piercing through him, he was quick to shut up. “Okay, okay!” He huffed.

“She came to my trailer guns ablaze and then just slammed the note against my chest, calling me a coward, and then I told her off—”

“Wait what?” Max was quick to interrupt him, brows pinching together.

“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t the one who left.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, didn’t you kiss Chrissy in front of her?” Max taunted.

“Yeah, and did you not bring her to Steve’s?” Dustin added.

With a huff, he turned back to Steve. “Jesus, Harrington, did you gang up all of them against me?” He just gave Eddie a shrug.

“That’s not even the point! Everything has just become too convoluted with us,” He spat, anger returning quicker than you intended to, while the rest of the gang sipped their drinks with an ‘oof’.

“It’s not convoluted, just tell her how you feel!” Max inquired, gently, almost like she was trying not to tip him off.

“I—” He took a deep breath. I will. He wished to say, but saying it out loud felt too real. And you were right, he was a coward.

“I’m gonna properly apologize and make things right by her,” he muttered, taking a big sip from his drink.

“You better hurry up, rockstar,” Steve taunted smugly, the weird face he pulled was making crinkles appear on Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie’s head cocked toward Steve, aggressively. “You better tell her how sorry you fucking are.”

With an all-knowing snort, Steve’s finger accusingly pointed towards something behind him. “Or someone else might swoop in.”

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled, rolling his eyes before he turned around with a huff.

Oh, shit.

Everyone’s gaze turned toward Steve’s accusatory finger, a slight ‘shit’ escaping from Robin’s lips which Nancy elbowed gently to shut her up.

Eddie could barely move, his entire face feeling hot and jaw clenching involuntarily, jealousy shooting through him faster than the alcohol swimming in his system.

Because there you stood, in front of the bar, with your head tilted sideways, a pretty grin sitting on your lips, mellow gaze looking up at the guy in front of you—dirty blonde, hair cut shorter than Eddie’s but almost as long as Steve’s, wearing the most expensive and tidy outfit Eddie had ever seen—making him feel stupid for choosing to wear those black chained jeans.

His scowl was anything but pretty, brows furrowing in a way that made him look like a complex puzzle, eyeing the way this stranger was touching you.

“Oh, isn’t that—” Robin spoke up, and the entire table shushed her because they also realized exactly who that was.

James.

Your ex, not Billy, of course, the other douchebag before Billy.

He really wasn’t much of a douchebag, a genuine, nice guy, and to make matters worse he was a total gentleman; attributes Eddie would never call a typical high school Jock.

The relationship only ended because he went to college one too many states away, the distance getting between the two of you, but Eddie always referred to him as ‘the douchebag’ The jealous feeling sunk into his chest even then.

Rich kid, a jock in high school, older than both of you, someone who had his life together. Everything that Eddie never was. Everything Eddie always wished to be.

But now, seeing you with him made something almost click in Eddie’s head, like he was meant for you as he suited you much better than Eddie ever would.

He could treat you much better than Eddie would, sure Eddie had his name now, the riches he never had back in high school. But he was still just Eddie.

And he was certain James never kissed Chrissy, he’d never fuck up like Eddie did.

He watched the way your eyes lit up when he was animatedly talking, his gentle touch on your arm, the smile that curled on your lips.

What if he asked for your number? What if he wanted to reconnect? What if you said yes? Just because Eddie had been a total fucking idiot and couldn’t see what was right in front of him?

He tried so hard to push the idea of the two of you together back into his mind. To make sure it never left, to make sure it never manifested.

But the way his jaw clenched and the deadly glare burning through both of you showed that he couldn’t.

He was jealous, a type of jealousy that quickly translated into anger, one he could almost feel on his skin, hot and prickling rage stabbing into his body, agonizingly slow, making it harder for him to stay glued there and not do anything the more he eyed the hold James had on you. He was standing too close for Eddie’s liking.

Usually, he’d let this feeling sink back into his mind, take a breather, smoke a couple of cigarettes, and then act like nothing was wrong for the rest of the night while he spent it sulking. Keep that rage caged in his chest, so he could keep his feelings contained.

But he couldn’t do that this time, no. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers, not again. He was going to fight for you, he was going to show you that you belonged with him.

No matter what Mr. Fancy Pants could offer to you, he needed to tell you how he really felt, he needed to make sure you knew. Because even if he could feel the insecurities jabbing into his brain, he always knew, deep down that there was something there between the two of you. Something always left undiscovered because both of you were cowards.

He couldn’t let that happen again, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Oh, I get the appeal now,” Max murmured, breaking the silence between everyone, and earning a hard glare from Eddie.

“What? He seems nice, has pretty hair, much better than Steve’s, and that outfit probably cost more than your wedding,” Max spoke bluntly, now earning more than just the hard glare of Eddie, mouth hung open Steve looked offended, Nancy and Jonathan narrowed their gaze, but Robin snickered behind her hand, almost giving Max her approval.

“Max!” Lucas reacted before them and Max furrowed her brows, a smirk earning her way to her lips. “You’re still my number one Lucas, don’t worry,” She hummed, pinching Lucas’ cheek and ignoring Dustin’s groan.

“Dude, why would you do that?” Dustin whispered, eyeing Eddie worriedly while nudging Steve by his jacket.

With a dramatic huff, Steve pulled his collar back, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.”

Eddie’s fingertips absentmindedly traced the rim of the glass in front of him, his eyes never leaving the two of you when he downed the drink, slamming it back on the booth, making everyone flinch.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie muttered, a forced chuckle escaping his lips.

“What are you even going to do?” Robin inquired, almost mocking.

A smirk landed on Eddie’s face. “I’m not going down without a fight, Buckley.”

“Not this fucking time,” he hissed, almost all the brows of the gang raising at his determination.

“I’m gonna tell her how I feel, and I’m not letting another douchebag ruin this,” Eddie mumbled, and a dumb smirk was placed on everyone’s face almost too quickly.

He was going for it, and the soap opera was continuing, the gang watched in excitement.

“Was he ever really a doucheba—” Dustin’s worries were quick to die down when he threw him a deadly glare.

Without another word, he stormed off to the side of the bar. Quick, too fucking quickly that it almost gave him a whiplash. He didn’t know what had taken over him, eyes burning the back of their figures as everyone else at the table watched him with a proud look.

But the child-like jealousy he felt within his body was uncontainable, it felt like his face was almost too hot to touch, he was desperate, quite literally.

The tap on James’ shoulder was anything but gentle, making him turn to Eddie with his pair of brows furrowed, and Eddie’s muscles were quick to tense.

His dark gaze only softened when he looked back at you, muscles relaxing, and creased brows returning to their normal form.

The jealousy eased inside of him, not dissipating quite enough, but slowing with one gaze from you.

Back in the booth, with another sip from his drink, Lucas huffed, “Five bucks says they’ll confess by tonight.”

Robin was quick to snort at him, “You’re trusting them too much, kid, Steve’s ‘little push’ might help them,” She mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at her face, she’s going to go off at him. The most they’ll probably do is have another fight, get just a little bit close to talking about their feelings, and then do it all over again.”

Steve, ignoring Robin’s theories, exclaimed with a smirk. “Ten bucks that Pinky will sleep with Eddie tonight!”

“I second that,” Max said with a grin.

“Steve!” Nancy warned with a disapproving tut.

“What?” He huffed.

“They’re kids!”

“We’re nineteen!” Max groaned.

“I turn twenty next month!” Dustin chimed in.

“Still!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve sighed with a glare at Nancy, “Then ten bucks that they’ll kiss tonight!”

“No fucking way.” Robin shook her head.

“Nah, they’ll at least kiss tonight,” Jonathan said with crossed arms.

“Are you guys seriously betting on our friends?” Nancy said with a furrowed brow.

They all nodded vigorously, “Fine,” Nancy muttered.

“Then I second Steve, ten bucks for them sle-kissing.” Nancy corrected herself, earning a wicked grin from Steve.

“Come on!” Robin groaned, dissatisfied by Nancy’s answer.

“I agree with Robin,” said Dustin with a shrug.

“Finally!” Robin exclaimed, hands rubbing together in victory. “Someone with common sense. There’s no way those idiots are going to do anything but fight, just watch her come back here, all fuming about how much she hates Eddie.”

They all shrugged, going back to continue watching the soap opera unravel in front of them.

“James!” Eddie greeted with faux excitement, a grin playing on his lips, amber gaze remaining on you. With your brows creased, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ you mouthed behind their awkward hug.

He shrugged, and his hands clutched James’ shoulder harshly, making him chuckle awkwardly. “Munson, the man of the hour!” He greeted him with a beaming smile.

He really was too nice for his own good, wasn’t he?

“I’d ask what you were up to, but it seems you’ve been doing just fine, rockstar,” James exclaimed, returning a friendly slap to Eddie on his shoulder—in a much nicer way than Eddie intended with his.

You smiled uncomfortably, your gaze still throwing daggers at Eddie, who was actively avoiding it. “I have to say that last album? Fucking Christ, had it playing over and over again for days.” He beamed again, much to both of your dismay.

That all-knowing smirk on Eddie’s face disappeared, the unexpected compliment seemed to make him uncomfortable, conflicting with the defensive walls he had put up.

“Uhh—thanks man,” he chuckled awkwardly, casting a quick, scrutinizing glance at you, catching the small smirk on your lips.

“What have you been up to?” He asked, curiously, desperate to know what the two of you were talking about, nervous to see if the two of you would do anything more than this.

The confidence in the way James held himself, his slicked hair, his fancy outfits up close, Eddie’s insecurities washed him over once again. Now with that part of his brain convincing him that the two of you would somehow end up together again.

“Oh, you know, I was just in town, got a nice job here, thought I’d stop by to see Corroded Coffin play, been seeing the posters everywhere—great marketing by the way,” He hummed, flashing Eddie a smile.

And Eddie returned a forced one, lips pursed together in annoyance. “and then I thought I’d get a drink, but then I heard this familiar voice next to me, yelling to the guy next to her to fuck off for attempting to steal her drink, and I thought oh that’s Pinky.” Eddie couldn’t help but not keep his gaze on you, studying your features, almost gauging your reaction, trying to nitpick something to fuel his jealousy.

“Been a long time, but I’d never miss this one’s sassy voice and that pretty face,” He mumbled with a sly smirk, making Eddie’s face scrunch and almost making him scoff out loudly.

“Oh, stop it!” You mumbled with a smile, all flattered, and Eddie’s gaze narrowed, jealousy overtaking him again.

“So you two are… reconnecting for the old times' sake, huh?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Eddie—”

With a smile, James turned to you, “I mean I’d love to grab a drink, are you free tomorrow?”

“Ah! I wish I could, but I need to help Nancy out with some wedding stuff.”

“How about next wee—”

“She’s busy,” Eddie interjected quickly.

“Eddie!” You warned with your brows raised, heat rising to your cheeks, what the fuck was he doing?

“Can I just—steal you away for a minute?” Eddie turned to you with his jealous gaze, hand gently having a hold on your arm.

“Oh, sure, man!”

“No!” You and James exclaimed in unison.

James stared at the two of you with his brows furrowed, both of you breathing heavily, an intense gaze connecting the two of you. With a sigh, you followed him out of the crowd, an apologetic smile thrown toward James.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You scoffed, “Me? What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” You snapped, naze garrowing.

“I’m not locking lips with James that’s for sure!”

“Jesus Christ I was not locking lips with—” You halted abruptly, the absurdity of the sentence hitting you like a wave. Taking a moment to breathe, “What are you a child?”

“Well, if pointing out the obvious means I’m a child then so fucking be it!” The words tumbled out of his mouth harshly, almost lost in the din of the bar.

“The obvious? Do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed Chrissy?” You accused sharply, your anger returning and cutting through Eddie’s jealousy like a knife.

“Look, I—I’m genuinely sorry for that, Pinky, I am. I should’ve never done that, it was a mistake—” His voice strained, getting lost amidst the background clamor, their set was about to start and Eddie could careless.

He took a step closer, but you didn’t budge. “You don’t kiss someone as a mistake, Eddie! You don’t invite them to brunch as a fucking mistake!” You snapped, tone a poignant mix of bitterness, jealousy, and an equal amount of hurt. Teary yet ablaze gaze bored into Eddie's, breaking his heart more and more.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of your words, the realization of the irreparable damage sinking in.

He took a step closer, a desperate attempt to bridge the emotional gap.“Will you just listen to me?” Eddie's plea hung in the air, the room seemingly shrinking as you and Eddie’s gaze connected. Your breaths mingled, heavy with unspoken words that pulsed between you.

Only inches apart, and you couldn’t help it when your gaze drooped down to his lips, then back to his mellow eyes.

“Eddie, this is the fifth fucking time they’ve been calling you.” Gareth’s irritating voice snapped the conversation, loud enough to have you almost jump back, as you threw Gareth a daggering gaze.

“Just fucking wait for a second,” Eddie spat, trying to dismiss him, but the moment was gone.

And Gareth wasn’t having it. “No way, dude we go on in like five minutes,” He scoffed, momentarily dragging Eddie by his arm.

“Fine, fine!” Eddie scowled, shaking off the hold.

“You should uh— go.”

“Let me explain,” He almost begged, desperate.

But with another dismissal, you left.

Eddie wanted to drop everything and run to you, apologize, tell you what he felt, but somehow, some way he was always managing to fuck up the things between the two of you, now.

It was like he was fourteen again, his dad letting him know that he always managed to fuck up something good, that he was destined to the Munson name. Like he could never manage to do something right.

Wayne, Jonathan, Corroded Coffin, and Nancy all changed that belief.

But, you? Oh, god, you made him believe that he was good, you pulled him out of that darkness, you were the first one to believe in him, you were the one who encouraged him. You made him feel like he was on the right path, always.

And you were the one who mattered, if he didn’t have you believing that now, what else did he have?

With a hand on his shoulder, Jeff was dragging him back, he stared at your figure leaving, and with a sigh, he headed backstage.

Aurora was the fifth song they sang, and it should’ve gotten to you, the way his gaze didn’t leave yours, how vulnerable he sounded, the way he barely even made eye contact with the guitar he was supposed to be focusing on, that should’ve gotten to you.

But it didn’t.

Your glossy gaze and your crossed arms, as everyone else around you cheered for him, did nothing but upset you more and more.

Everything was so confusing that you couldn’t even make sense of yourself anymore. Yes, you were mad about everything with Chrissy, but you also knew he didn’t know everything that transpired between you and her.

Chrissy and Billy should’ve been enough for him to not want anything to do with her, yet you still believed him when he told you it was a mistake, that he would’ve never done it if he knew. And the pool… the things he said in the car. Hours ago when you went to his trailer.

Sure, he was sorry, and he said he’d prove himself to you.

But none of you ever out loud said anything, it had always been a cowardice dance around your feelings, and you were afraid that if this dance ended, then it would be all too real. It would all be over.

A heave of breath exited your lips, attempting to drown away the worries, but they were spiked up the second the song ended and Eddie spoke up again.

“This next song is for my friends over there, Nancy and Jonathan,” He exclaimed with a grin, finger excitedly pointing towards the two of them, it was the first time his gaze had left yours, involuntarily your head turned to your right.

“They’re getting married this weekend, and were kind enough to let me and my dipshit friends play,” He said with a sheepish grin, and Nancy and Jonathan shyly smiled at him, waving him off in a dismissive way,

“So this is for the soon-to-be newlywed couple, and for the special girl next to them, who’s mad at me for a lot of reasons, and she has every right to be, I was a total ass.” He earned chuckles and some cheering from the crowd, who unintentionally all faced you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but hey, maybe this might help my case, huh?” He said with a grin, his gaze was dangerously addicting, full of promises, and you couldn’t help the way it made stupid butterflies appear in your stomach.

It was so easy for him to get you like this, you were starting to feel pathetic.

Speechless, and the heat quick to rise to your cheeks, you were trying to ignore the whispers and stares from the crowd, but it was basically impossible.

The opening chords were enough to rattle your memory, the dreamy guitar riffs from Eddie sweeping in echoing the space as if it was just the two of you.

You knew exactly which song he was playing.

And the vocals, added with Eddie’s smooth, sultry voice were enough to have your heartbeat raising making you almost feel small, haziness overtaking your mind.

And it only brought back one memory to your mind.

FIVE YEARS AGO.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

Another job interview, another opportunity you feel like you have missed.

It hadn’t been long since the two of you had arrived in Los Angeles, yet every passing minute felt like you had been wasting away your time, you needed a job, and no one in stupid LA was hiring you.

A groan escaped your lips when you plopped yourself onto the couch, right next to Eddie who was way too into scribbling something into a notebook.

Wait… was he using the…?

“Is that… the notebook?” Your eyes lit up happily. It was such a small, stupid thing.

But for you, it was important. That notebook was important. And you never actually thought he’d care about it, but it looked like he was carrying it in his back pocket.

“Is that a crime?” Eddie sassed.

With a scoff, you narrowed your gaze. “No, doofus! I just didn’t think you’d actually use it.”

Almost taken aback Eddie sat up straight on the couch, knees brushing against yours now. “Are you kidding? Half of this bad boy is filled with lyrics.”

“What is the other half made of?” You asked with a dangerous grin.

“You’d have to kill me to find out.” Eddie enunciated dramatically, tone drooping lower to mimic mystery.

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, curiosity getting the best of you. Scooting closer to him, you pouted. “Can’t you at least give me something?” You asked, all doe-eyed, tone sticky sweet, in a way that always got to Eddie.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He groaned, almost melting into you, “You know I’ll give you anything if you ask that sweetly.”

You grinned happily, clapping your hands together in victory once he ripped up a page and handed it to you.

“That is the chorus of a song I’m working on,” He mumbled, eyes nervously following you, waiting to read your reaction.

She's thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She's thunderstorms

Your eyes blinked quickly to process everything. It had been not too long since the both of you had come to L.A., Eddie was desperately trying to send the band’s best material to any label who was willing to sign them.

And you had just gotten out of a horrible relationship, things had not been steady enough for the two of you to ever discuss anything about your feelings, always tip-toeing around it, but too scared to ever actually delve into it.

Yet, you could tell this was about you, something about being described as thunderstorms stuck to your mind, maybe he somehow meant it as good. But all it reminded you of was destruction. And he wasn’t wrong.

It was like everywhere you went, something horrible followed, exactly like a dark cloud looming over, waiting to strike anyone daring to be near you.

Your hand flew to your mouth, teeth grazing through your nails anxiously. “Who’s this thunderstorm girl?” You asked, masking your nervousness with a brittle smile.

He snatched the notebook back, ignoring your little huff. “Someone I went to school with,” He answered cooly and then leaned further into your face with a grin. “I was drivin’ around one day, then saw this girl’s car on the side of the road, to be nice I helped fix her car but then she became totally obsessed with me.” He recalled the first time he met you, animatedly.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, didn’t leave me alone for years.”

With a narrowed gaze, “Asshole,” you bantered.

“That’s so weird,” He hummed with a smirk “That was her favorite nickname for me,” quipped Eddie and you stuck your tongue at him childishly.

With a slight push on his elbow, he drew closer to you. “So… what did you think?” He coaxed nervously, you could tell it was important to him, yet being this close was making your mind spin.

“I like it,” you muttered, unable to face his beautiful features when he was so close, and your mind spinning with the fact that Eddie thought of you as destructive, too.

“That’s it? You… just like it?”

“No that’s not it, it’s just—” With a sigh you snatched back the notebook from his hands. “It’s just… isn’t this bad?”

“What?” His brows creased together in worry, “W-which one did you not like I can change it-” You shook your head, interrupting his anxious ramble.

“No! I love all of them! But describing… uh—this girl,” Tip-toeing around it, causing Eddie to smirk. “As thunderstorms? Isn’t that bad?”

“No, not at all. It’s a metaphor.” He shook his head, explaining gently.

“She embodies the essence of thunderstorms—unpredictable and explosive. She has the power to create chaos and destruction, and on the surface that might sound bad, yet within that destruction she sparks a new life. You know, making it so much better,” He hummed, licking his lips.

“And she also feels like a thunderstorm, intense and electrifying, shaking up your life, in the best way possible.”

“Oh. Wow,” You mumbled, gaze turning mellow with how well he explained everything, heart melting with how he saw you, not just from the surface, like he could peel the intricate layers of your existence, appreciating every part of it.

“Uhh, then I love that actually,” you concluded with a smile, attempting to mask the fluttering in your stomach. Did he really see you in that way?

Did he really see you as someone worth all of this? You tried to ignore the tears prickling in your eyes, begging to pour out, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment.

You didn’t deserve him. In the slightest. He didn’t deserve to get caught up in your bullshit. You shouldn’t have dragged him here. You were being selfish, but, god, did it feel good.

To finally feel safe, to finally have someone take care of you, to finally have someone you could rely on. After everything, didn’t you at least deserve to be a little selfish?

But that feeling ate away at you, even though you shook it off for the moment, it was eventually going to return. And it did.

“You do?” His brows raised in surprise, it made you want to fuck all and just grab his cheeks and kiss him, lips plush together until the two of you couldn’t breathe.

But you couldn’t afford that, you couldn’t afford the feelings, nor could you afford the fallout. You couldn’t lose him.

“Mhmm,” You answered with a broken smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He always did.

“She sounds special.”

“She is,” Eddie agreed, eyeing you with a worried look. “Very, very special,” He repeated, he could tell something was off.

But it was okay, because he was here for you now, and he wasn’t going to leave.

NOW:

Suddenly the room felt suffocating.

Eddie’s gaze on you felt mocking.

It was stupid, he had just dedicated the song to you, yet all your mind could focus on was everything bad that had happened. Ruining everything good that happened with him.

How were you even going to be with him if you couldn’t even handle this?

Fear, trust issues, being afraid of not knowing how things were going to go, if you would fuck this up too, then that was it for you. No one else could compare, and you knew that.

Maybe if you just knew that the same went for Eddie, if you just could see that the five years you spent apart had been just as hell-ish for him if not more. The constant thoughts in his mind reminded him that he could never be over you, truly. Sure, it hurt less now, but the scar was still there, scabbing the second someone mentioned you. The realization of knowing no one could ever be you etched onto his skin.

“Hey… you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts, Eddie’s voice served as a background noise while his gaze was still stuck on you.

“Y-yeah, I just—” You faltered, face growing numb and anxiety increasing when you suddenly needed some air.

Too much, all of it was too much.

Eddie could almost sense it, he grew worried at your frowny brows and your tear-streaked gaze.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, body jerking back scurrying out quickly when you ignored everyone calling out for your name.

Eddie’s vocals almost halted, missing a few notes on the guitar before Gareth was quick to snap him back to it.

His head cocked toward your direction, desperate, nearly begging to stop the show, but all of them shook their head quickly, and once Eddie turned back to see the look on Jonathan and Nancy’s face, he realized he couldn’t do this to them.

This was his friends' wedding, and he owed this to them. When the song ended, he was quick to mouth to the others, “After the next song, we’re taking a break.” It wasn’t a request, it was final.

And frankly, the rest of them were too tired out to even argue with a hot-headed Eddie.

“So how is your plan working, dingus?” Robin jeered at Steve.

“Shut up.”

There were a couple more people outside, all leaning against the wall, chuckling while talking over each other loudly, the smoke of their lit cigarettes quick to take over your senses.

With a cough, you leaned further away from them, mind still unraveling what had just happened. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore.

You wanted to smoke, hand itched to reach for the pocket of your jacket and light one to take away your stress, but you could barely breathe as it was right now.

A light tap on your shoulder snapped you away from your thoughts.

Who was it now?

You huffed loudly when your head cocked back.

Fucking great.

Chrissy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, this just had to be your luck, your feet picked up quickly, hand quick to reach for the door and go back inside.

“Please, please don’t leave,” She pleaded.

Your hold on the door remained, barely glancing back at her, “Just leave me alone!” You snapped.

“I just want to apologize, please, then I’ll leave you alone, forever.”

“Please, just five minutes.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t.

Your hold on the door faltered, and with a deep sigh, you turned to her. “Fine.”

“Five minutes,” You warned, your patience already wearing thin.

Her face lit up, blinking a few times to make sure she heard you correctly. “O-oh, okay, good,” She cleared her throat.

“First of all, I’m sorry, for everything, for what I said five years ago, for what I did with Billy, for using what he did to you like a fucking joke. For w-what I said about your parents.” She stammered.

“It’s too late, I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done any of those things, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved a better friend, someone like you.” She almost looked at you like she was waiting for your approval, gauging your reaction, your expressionless face encouraged her to continue.

“I was bitter, jealous. Which isn’t a fucking excuse, I know, I was just—” she took a deep breath. “You were everything I wanted to be, careless, had all the boys' attention, and you didn’t even have to try, you didn’t have to do anything, and they’d just fall at your feet. And I was stupid, bitter, and insecure enough to envy that.”

“That’s not my problem, Chrissy.” You spat out with your gaze narrowing, you couldn’t handle her pity party right now.

“And really, you wanted to be me? Chrissy I didn’t have parents, my boyfriend was a narcissistic asshole.I was broke.” You scoffed with an ironic chuckle, shaking your head in anger.

“I know, I know. It was stupid, and I was stupid, and you didn’t deserve any of that.” Sincerity. Something you haven’t seen from her in years.

“I just wanted to tell you that none of it was your fault.” Now your gaze narrowed, a chuckle rolling on your lips.

You opened your mouth to speak, to protest. “No, I know you’re going to say you didn’t think that but I know you do. Even though you hate me, which I don’t blame you, I know you like the back of my hand, you blame yourself, you always did it. And I’m telling you shouldn’t because it was all my fault. A-and I shouldn’t have done whatever I did with Eddie, I practically took advantage of him like he did to me and then got mad at him, oh god, I’m such a fucking bitch, aren’t I?”

Your eyes blinked quickly to process all of it. Her apology didn’t mean anything, her words didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you knew she was right, even if you wouldn’t admit it. Because you spent many nights blaming yourself, for even opening up to them in the first place.

“First of all, breathe,” you mumbled with annoyance.

“Second of all, yes you are,” you huffed.

“And, taking advantage? What do you mean?”

“Some fucked up part of me wanted him because I knew you wanted him back then, a-and he was right there and he was being nice to me and—” Chrissy took a deep sigh, big blue eyes staring into you knowing that you were not going to like what she was going to say.

“I should’ve known.”

With puckered brows, you crossed your arms against your chest. “Known what?”

“That he was still hung up on you,” she muttered.

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Chrissy—”

“No, no just listen.” But she wasn’t going to let you spiral.

“Look you were dumb enough then—” You threw her a glare, so daggeringly cold that she stopped.

“Sorry,” she muttered before continuing, “Look, the two of you wasted a lot of time. And I know it’s funny hearing this from me because I took part in it, but I’m only saying this because he’s a nice guy, even though I don’t particularly like him right now, he’s a nice guy, and you deserve someone like him.” She enunciated, azure hues embodying such sympathy that had you taken aback.

“You loved him back then, too. I could see it, and I could see it in him, too. That’s what I always wanted, and maybe that’s why he intrigued me so much. But I knew he never got over you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat, it wasn’t anything new, but hearing this from her, it meant something.

You needed to take control of your feelings, and hearing Chrissy’s words was doing nothing but fuel them more. “Chrissy stop—”

“No, Pinky! He told me! He told me it was you! It had always been you!” She exclaimed, her face growing a nice pink color as you stood frozen.

Your brain felt mushy, rest of your body felt so warm, but still that anger lingered. Why couldn’t he just tell you this? Why couldn’t he just show you?

“What?” You mumbled, brows pinched together.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, sighing at your reaction.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you this, and tell you to get your head out of your ass. I know I’m the last person you wanted to hear this from, but I had to at least make one thing right for you because I know I fucked up every other thing.”

You wanted to tell her to stay the fuck out of it, you wanted to tell her it was all because of her. That she basically ruined your life. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t all her, it was Billy, too. It wasn’t all her, Eddie played a part in it, too.

But you weren’t going to waste your breath, you didn’t need to blow up in her face for her to know she was wrong, she needed to let that feeling sink in. You weren’t going to forgive her, and you didn’t need to make a fuss about it to feel real.

This was it. A closure.

“I’m sorry, for everything. And I know that you won’t forgive me, but that’s okay. I’m sorry, but please listen to what I just said. Please don’t get in your head and try to ruin something this perfect, okay?”

A peaceful smile appeared on your lips, and you took a deep breath. “You’re right, I won’t forgive you.” You weren’t going to give her any satisfaction or approval, her words didn’t mean a thing.

“Goodbye, Chrissy.” You mumbled.

You could see her stammering, struggling to open her mouth, because she couldn’t say anything else, and this is what she promised, five minutes. It was over.

You backed yourself against the wall, fingers fishing out the pack of cigarettes sitting in the pocket of your jacket.

Without having anything else left to say, she left. And you heaved a sigh of breath, the tip of your cigarette smoldering when you lit it.

You inhaled with eyes squeezed shut, head swirling with much to think about. But at least you were alone. Finally, some space for you to think, and to lay out a little bit of your stress with the most unhealthy outlet.

And of course, that peace lasted for about a few minutes, just when you had finished your cigarette, squishing the remains on the nearest trashcan, Eddie appeared, lightly squeezing your arm to have your attention.

“What?” You snapped when you saw him, eyeing the way he looked taken aback.

His hands held up in front of his chest in defeat, clearly not understanding your sudden rage. The laughter around you had died, people who were smoking outside the bar were clearly more entertained by your drama.

With a huff, you dragged Eddie away from it all, still close to the bar but far away to not have any other distractions.

He sighed, brows etched with worry. “Why did you leave?”

Your hand flew to your forehead, trying to calm your nerves, trying to clear your mind. “Eddie, are you kidding me?” You scoffed, arms wrapped across your chest defensively. “You can’t just drag me away from James, dedicate songs to me and—”

His forehead puckered. “Why not? They’re all about you anyway,” he said with a sly smirk.

“Aurora, She’s Thunderstorms, Zero, Forget Her, Resolve, Fool, two fucking albums, all dedicated to you, you know that.”

“These notes? These stupid notes I’ve been carrying?” He huffed loudly, hand quick to fish inside of his back pocket, aggressively flipping through the pages. “Even if every nerve in my body were numb I’d still be able to feel her.” He turned the page toward you before flipping again.

“I have tried to forget you but I can’t, you invade my dreams, my mind, my whole fucking life. You’re stuck in me and I don’t have the heart to get you out.” He shook his head, reciting it all like it was nothing, but you felt all of it.

His notes making you dizzy. His words scrambling your mind like never before.

“She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever. That one is uh—in a song, too,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing with how passionate he was getting, and you held your breath, it’s like you were staring into his soul.

Stark naked. Laying bare, he really was doing this. And you didn’t want him to stop, even though your mouth suggested otherwise.

“And so much more embarrassing stuff that I don’t want to include to not ruin my chances,” he muttered with a lazy smile, and you hated that you could feel it in your skin, the flutters, stomach flipping in the best possible way.

“All fucking about you. Because it was you, from the moment we met.”

“S—stop,” your mouth betrayed you, it was the furthest thing from the truth, and you needed to hear more. You needed the reassurance, you needed him to convince you. More than anything in the world.

But it was all so scary, and he was so close to you that you could feel his passion integrated into your veins.

“Why, Pinky, why should I stop? Why do we have to tip-toe around each other, huh?” He was desperate, eyes flashing with a newfound of desire for you, he wasn’t going to let it go this time.

And it scared you, him being this determined, getting so close to what you actually felt was making your skin crawl, because the way you could feel your heart thumping against your ribcage wasn’t normal. What he was making you feel wasn’t normal. “Because w—we can’t!”

“We can’t what?” He complained, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

“W—we can’t do this, you can’t—”

He shook his head with his brows puckered. “Who are you to decide that? I want to, I so badly want to,” He spat, taking a step closer to you, face merely inches away from you.

His gaze was dangerously inviting, those alluring amber eyes melted into yours, making your pupils dilate, breath hitching as you struggled to keep him away. “Please, Eddie, d—don’t.”

You gulped, hand raising to put a space between the two of you, but it was impossible. He was in your veins now. “Too much has happened, you with Chrissy and—” You didn’t even know what you were blabbering about, just anything to stop your feelings from getting out.

“Chrissy was a mistake!” He retorted with a hiss. He hated that you saw Chrissy as a problem between the two of you. Yes, he fucked up, but it really was a mistake, he’d take it all back in a heartbeat if he could.

Your gaze narrowed, that pettiness returned when you scoffed. “Which time, when you kissed her or when you brought her to brunch?”

Eddie let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head when he looked at you with a dumbfounded look. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He took a breather. “I can’t believe you’re doing that again,” he mumbled, realizing that it wasn’t going to be easy to get you out of this mindset.

It was going to be hard, to convince you of anything, and he understood that, he had trust issues himself, but he wasn’t going to back down. This was it.

You crossed your arms against your chest, gaze avoiding him momentarily. “Doing what?” You muttered.

“You just— you get scared when things get serious, running away when it gets just even a little bit too real,” He scoffed, angling closer to you, fingers ruffling through his curls in frustration.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You call me a coward and fucking look at you!” He snapped, hands gesturingly pointing to you.

“Scrambling just at the thought of us being together.” He argued, some part of him feeling a bit insecure, that maybe you didn’t want this. But, no, he saw that glint in your eyes, he knew the little angry twitch on your lips. You felt the same. And all you needed was a little push.

You breathed, mind scrambled and trying so hard to convince yourself to leave. “T—that’s not it, you—uh you just don’t get it!” You complained with a huff.

Another step closer. One more step and his lips would be on yours, Eddie knew this, you knew this. His gaze momentarily drooped down to your lips, then back to your dilated pupils.

“Then make me understand, let me help you, don’t fucking run, not this time.” It was a little jab, but something needed to get you to spill, he was playing all the right cards and you were getting overwhelmed.

“J—just stop!”

“Why? Fucking why? Tell me one good fucking reason as to why we shouldn’t try it, we never even gave it a chance!” He ranted, veins in his forehead popping with how much he was trying to keep it all together. And you weren’t even trying.

“We wouldn’t work, okay?”

He shook his head. “Not good enough,” He argued.

“W—we’re on two different paths now, Eddie.” You didn’t have any good excuses, he was right.

“Not good enough.” Once again, that same arguing tone.

You huffed. “Too much time passed and—”

“Not fucking good enough!” He cursed, hands landing on your shoulder to keep you in place, and your cheeks flushed immediately, while still trying to deny it. You were pathetic.

“Stop being a fucking coward!” He seethed, eyes fiery and red.

Why were you insisting on being so fucking stubborn? You were driving him crazy, yet it wasn’t going to stop him.

Coward is what had you scrambling. Because you knew he was right. “Fuck you,” You spat, body jerking quickly to leave, feet picking up quickly as Eddie groaned loudly.

So. Fucking. Stubborn.

He was quick on his feet, letting curses slip past his lips before he yanked you to him, earning a small gasp from your lips before you finally faced him.

Gaze mellow, but just as fiery, your furrowed brows and dilated pupils only encouraging him more and more. Flutters in your stomach had never left, your skin was burning, everywhere, but specifically on the hold he had on you.

You didn’t manage to utter anything else, you couldn’t because he had you this time. There was no running away from it, your heart was hammering so hard inside of your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

His hold on your arm was firm but somehow gentle, letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you go.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but he interrupted, his hands now firmly cupping your cheeks, squishing you with force, and you couldn’t help the contended sigh that left your parted lips. “I’m not letting you run away, not this time,” He mumbled, words sounding like silk falling from his lips, all you could do was gaze into him. He stood inches away from you, breath fanning against your face.

He licked his lips desperately, gaze drooping to your candy-glossed, needy lips. Face so close that you could feel the desperation radiating off of him. And you shared it. You managed to take a quick breath before his hand fisted your hair and his mouth crashed down to yours.

He pressed you harder against his chest, breathless, your lips molded together, a perfect fit. And he could taste the Cosmopolitan on your tongue, a tinge of alcohol mixed with your sweetness, making his head spin, a taste he realized he’d never have enough of.

Those little thumps your heart did were now out of control, possibly pounding a million beats a second. His small stubble scratched against your chin, rough, it should’ve made you uncomfortable yet all it did was make you kiss him harder, shutting up your brain as your mouth replied to him, kissing him back with just as much force, you melted into him, melted into his hold, and you let him engulf you, fully, completely.

Plushy lips slightly parted apart, his tongue slipped past between your teeth, your hand finding its way to his hair, feeling the curly strands between your fingers, it’s softer than you expected and your lips parted to let out a slight whine as you tugged at them.

All those years of wishing, all those years of wanting, yearning, and needing exploded into this. Kissing like your lives depended on it, chests pressed against each other, Eddie’s hand slipping to your waist, desperately tugging you closer to him as if that was even possible.

Your heart exploded into your chest, his tongue not wavering the chance to explore yours, sucking on it, greedily, desperately.

The background noises disappeared, the cackles of the girls, the booming music coming from inside of the bar, and the honks from the busy street. They ceased to exist and it was just you and him. Feeling each other, completely, fully.

You knew at some point one of you had to pull away, but none of you dared to, it was just pure desire, a hunger that couldn’t be sated.

All the years spent yearning and pining, acting like two fucking idiots.

He wanted to breathe you, drink you in, and he wasn’t intent on letting you go. Ever.

You from five minutes ago who wanted to refuse him, refuse this was an absolute fucking idiot. Gone. You tasted like the sweetest honey and he tasted like everything you wanted and more. It’s even needier than the first kiss, more sure, it’s like a promise.

This is it. Both of you can feel it. This finally changes everything.

final authors note — uhhhh so yeah... if yall wanna talk about that my asks r open LMAO.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #getaway car series #getaway car

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thefallennightmare · 3 months

Text

Unveiled Hearts-Matt Dierkes One Shot

*all pictures for cover found on pinterest. gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, smut

Summary: Matt and Faye still can’t confess their feelings for each other. Crossing the line from friends to lovers could change the dynamics of the tour of the Concrete Jungle. An accidental kiss reveals the truth hidden behind small smiles and laughter. They both know that the smart thing would be to forget it ever happened. But some kisses are so spectacular that they change everything.

Authors Notes: When I tell you guys, this has been MONTHS in the making. I'm so glad I can finally say it's finished! Buckle up, it's a long one! Hopefully, all of your questions will be answered.

Tags: @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurao @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @blueskylinesx @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit

If I missed anyone on the tag list, I apologize!

FAYE

I sat in my car, drumming my fingers against my steering wheel and trying to keep my breathing even. Every few seconds, my eyes would dart to the clock on the dashboard, painley waiting for it to read 6:00 so I could get this meeting over with.

��Five minutes,” I muttered to myself followed by a pep talk.

This is a job interview, one I’ve been to countless times before. I knew what I was doing and also was confident enough in my abilities that they’d love my work. Lana even reassured me.

“They’re a great batch of guys to work with, Faye! It’s like we’re a big family, we take care of each other,” her words echoed in my mind.

I watched as these guys worked in a frenzied state packing the two vans with various equipment but somehow made it seem like they flowed together naturally. The effort conversations and laughter that carried between them showed how tight knit they were so I couldn’t help but feel like I was a stranger that was about to disrupt their lives.

You are. They don’t know you.

Grumbling at the voice in my mind, I reached for my portfolio and camera, slinging it over my neck; I never went anywhere without it.

The laughter from the large group carried over to the other end of the parking lot where I was slowly walking up. I had to meet two of these guys at this large warehouse while they spent the afternoon packing up their things. My hands shook as I clutched my photo portfolio to my chest and as I approached them, unable to hide behind the invisible vortex I hope shielded me, I came to a stop a few feet away.

My hazel eyes tracked each person's movement as they went from the large garage opening of the warehouse over to the two trucks and large tour bus parked on the opposite side of the lot. My mouth ran dry as I tried to find my voice to call over to them, announce my arrival, but it was difficult due to the racing of my heart.

Suddenly a soft buzz in my back pocket was my saving grace and I pulled it out, smiling at the name on the screen.

Tay: Okay, we need a girls night out tonight. I broke up with loser face so I need to forget about it. Find someone new. Preferably one that has a head full of curls. You know those are my weaknesses.

I giggled while quickly typing out my response.

Me: Well, you know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

Tay: Fuck yes. I’ll pick you up at eight!

“Are you Faye?”

My eyes snapped up from my phone to the tall figure in front of me, the sunlight catching the intricate and somewhat colorful tattoos on both of his arms. A lone finger scratched at his cheek, showcasing a small heart tattoo. I knew who he was, Lana already giving me the full run down on everyone in the band.

While he was gorgeous, I also knew he wasn’t available. But not like it mattered, I wasn’t here for a relationship. I was here to work.

“Uh,” my hands shook again as I pocketed my phone, clutching the portfolio to my chest. “Yeah. Sorry.”

The man raised a brow with a soft smile. “There’s no need to apologize. Were you standing there long?”

I shook my head. “No, no. I just walked up a minute ago but didn’t want to bother you guys. You seem a little busy.”

“You’re fine,” he stuck out his hand. “I’m Noah.”

I desperately wished I could have wiped the sweat off of my palm as I grasped his; it engulfing mine.

“Faye. But I guess you already know that,” I chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, Lana mentioned you’d be stopping by to talk with us,” Noah turned to look over his shoulder, running a hand through his dark waves. “Uh, Matt!”

I watched silently as another man stepped down the ramp of one of the trucks, head snapped over towards Noah and I. He removed the hat from his head to shake out the long strands of his hair and my breath caught in my throat. The tattoos that covered his left arm were hard to read from this distance but the bright color of the one on his leg immediately stood out.

Dragon Ball Z.

I’d never been a fan of it but my younger brother watched it all the time growing up.

Suddenly realizing what Noah called him, I remembered Lana’s warning from earlier.

“Everyone is chill. Well, except Matt. As long as you stay on his good side you should be fine.”

My palms began to sweat even more now and I rubbed one of them on the side of my thigh, hoping to dry it before needing to shake Matt’s hand. As he walked closer to where Noah and I were standing, a soft breeze blew through the strands of his golden hair and I marveled at the confidence that radiated off of him. Those dark eyes tracked over me; from my scuffed converse up over my long legs and I knew he was assessing my tattoos like I did his. When his lips twitched with a sly smile, I knew Matt had taken in the sight of my teal hair.

“Hi,” I said once he came to a stop next to Noah.

The height difference between them was immediately recognizable.

“This is Faye; Lana’s cousin,” Noah said towards Matt.

He nodded. “The fill in.”

The way Matt said those words didn’t quite sit well with me but not wanting to ruin this potential job, I gave a forced smile instead.

“She mentioned you guys wanted to see my portfolio,” I said while handing it over to Noah, who took it with a smile.

“How long have you been in this business?” Noah asked, slowly flipping through my portfolio.

I adjusted the strap of my camera on my shoulder. “I started taking pictures when I was ten. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I made it my profession. I’ve photographed a handful of local bands.”

Matt raised a brow. “So Bad Omens would be the first big name band you’ve photographed?”

There was still that underlying tone in his voice, one I couldn’t quite decipher.

“As a job, yes. I’ve taken a few pictures when I went to shows. But I can assure you, I know what I’m doing,” I said with slightly narrowed eyes.

Noah froze on one photograph, a loving smile pulling at his lips. His eyes lingered on it for a long moment before showing it to Matt, who let out a small chuckle.

“What are the odds,” he muttered under his breath.

“So you’re used to working in fast paced environments?” Noah asked while handing back my portfolio.

I nodded, clutching it to my chest yet again. “Yeah. It’s nothing new for me.”

“This will be your first time touring though, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded again at Noah. “Might take some getting used to but I can assure you, I’ll be fine.”

“Cool,” he smiled. “I know it’s kind of last minute but we leave tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ready,” I gave a curt nod.

Underneath the rim of his hat, Matt’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent. Assessing me with the darkness of them but never once parting his lips to say what was on his mind. Which irritated me, the feeling burning low in my gut because I absolutely hated when people didn’t say what was on their mind. If they couldn’t tell me how they truly felt about a situation, how could I trust them later on?

“Is that fine with you, Matthew?” I asked with a raised brow.

His jaw ticked when I uttered his full name and briefly, I saw a tiny smile play at his lips.

“Be here at six a.m,” was all he said before turning on his heels and walking back towards the large trucks.

I pursed my lips, doing my best to keep my comment to myself; something Noah noticed.

“Don’t let Matt get under your skin. He’s not too fond of change. But he’ll get over it. Lana couldn’t stop raving about you. Bryan is actually excited to work with you,” Noah said.

Their other photographer.

“I’m actually a huge fan of Bryan. I have a few of his prints hung up in my apartment,” I said while looking up at Noah.

He chuckled while running a hand through his hair. “Did you want to stay? We’re almost done packing up the trucks and have plans for a little BBQ at my girlfriend's place. She’d love it if you joined.”

I thought about it for a long moment. It would probably be a good thing to do in a way to get to know everyone before being stuck on the road with them for the next few weeks. But then I remembered my plans with Tay and knew if I backed out on her much needed girls night, she’d be upset.

“Thank you for the invite but I already have plans with my friend tonight. I’m sorry,” I said.

Noah waved me off. “No need to apologize, Faye. We’re about to be stuck together for the next couple of weeks so take all the alone time you need.”

Just then, someone ran up to Noah with a breathless smile and I couldn’t stop staring at the mounds of curls on top of his head.

“Hey, man. Sorry I’m late.”

Noah gave the man a somber smile. “How’d it go?”

“She stood me up.”

My eyes darted between the two and when Noah took in my confused state, he motioned to the man with curls.

“Faye, meet Jesse. Jesse, meet the new photographer, Faye.”

Jesse gave me a bright smile, the one that eased away all of your worries, and he adjusted the round glasses perched on his nose before extending a hand to me.

“Oh, Lana’s cousin! She mentioned you’d be filling in for her while she was gone,” Jesse said.

“Yep,” I shook his hand. “Seems like she talked about me to everyone.”

Suddenly another man came up on the side of Jesse, slapping his back. “How’d the date go?”

This man I instantly recognized.

Bryan Kirks.

Jesse snorted. “She stood me up. I waited at the restaurant for thirty minutes. Tried calling and texting her; got left on read.”

“No fucking way,” Bryan shook his head. “I never had a good feeling about her. Who spells their name with two X’s like that?”

“That’s bullshit,” Noah grumbled under his breath.

Although I wasn’t sure what happened, it was clear this relationship that Jesse was talking about ended in a way that made Bryan and Noah upset for their friend. Seeing the slight confusion on my face, Jesse gave me a weak smile.

“My girlfriend stood me up tonight.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I frowned while shifting on my feet.

He shrugged while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s alright. I’ll get over it.”

“Well you know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Bryan smirked.

“I just told my best friend the same thing,” I laughed while tucking a piece of teal hair behind my ears.

The ease that fell over me as I stood with the three men, talking as if I’d known them for years, made the fear of what the next few weeks held almost non-existent.

“Is that the D5000?” Bryan asked while pointing to the Nikon hanging off my shoulder.

I beamed while holding it up. “Yeah. My dad gifted it to me when I decided to make this a career. I have a few other models but I take this one everywhere with me for work.”

Bryan motioned towards Noah and Jesse, who all stood together, which prompted me to snap a few pictures of them; all three of them having goofy smiles then a few serious ones.

I clicked through the pictures while all three of them glanced over my shoulder and felt Jesse snicker towards Noah.

“Your girl is going to love that pouty look.”

“Shut up,” Noah grumbled but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“HEY! Assholes! Are we still taking a break or actually here to work?!”

All of our eyes snapped up to Matt, who was pushing a large crate towards one of the trucks. Even from this distance, I could see the slits of his eyes staring directly at me. Something about him irritated me all while causing my stomach to flip as those narrowed eyes grazed up my long legs.

“This will be a fun few weeks,” Bryan said.

Jesse bid us all a goodbye with a nod. “Have fun with that. I’ve got plans at a certain cafe.”

As he rambled off which cafe he was going to visit tonight, I couldn’t help but smile.

“The one downtown? Next to the therapist's office?”

Jesse smiled. “Yeah. It’s Jolly’s favorite, for obvious reasons. We all go there at least once a week. We should all go once you guys get back.”

“Sure,” I smiled.

Noah gave me one final smile. “Believe it or not, we’re all stoked you’re joining us.”

“Lana has said all good things about you guys. I’m excited. And thank you for giving me this opportunity, given my lack of experience.”

Something twinkled in his almond eyes as he took a few steps towards the rest of the group of people.

“It was one of the pictures I saw in your portfolio that sold me.”

With a small wave, I turned and was ready to head back to my car when a loud voice halted me momentarily.

“6 A.M! DON’T BE LATE!”

Matt.

Throwing a hand over my shoulder, I made my way over towards my car and quickly typed up a message to Tay.

Me: How does coffee and a nice book in a cafe sound?

She replied while I was buckling my seat belt.

Tay: You know I’m always down for that.

MATT

Carefully, I watched as Faye smiled at Noah before she retreated back to her car. My eyes never left her form even when Noah stepped in front of me, blocking my view. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that I looked over to him.

“What?”

He shook his head with a playful smile. “I’ve seen that look before. I’ve actually had that look in my own eyes a few times. It’s a familiar feeling.”

Rolling my eyes, I went back to loading up the trucks. It was already well past six and with plans for the BBQ in less than an hour, we needed to haul ass to finish packing everything. Something I made known to Noah, who continued watching me with a smile.

“Keep staring, lover boy,” I joked while pushing the crate up the ramp into one of the trucks.

Noah stood at the bottom of his, hands buried deep in the pockets of his Bad Omens joggers.

“I invited her tonight.”

My head snapped over at him. “Why did you do that?”

“Because we’re going to be with each other for the next three weeks. I thought it would be a good ice breaker before having her jump right into everything tomorrow morning.”

There was no reason for me to have a guard up when it came to Faye but we’d been burned so many times before with new people joining the Bad Omens crew. Anytime we thought about having someone join our team, I was always the one that voiced my concerns.

Since Faye was cousins with Lana, I couldn’t do that. Lana gave us her word that we could trust Faye. Although, I knew deep down that wasn’t the sole reason why I’d been closed off.

I couldn’t allow myself to get close to anyone else, afraid of getting hurt again. I’d seen all of my friends around me find love while I stood on the outside, wondering if I’d ever find that. I told myself that work was the only thing I needed right now. But the moment I took in the sight of Faye and felt my heart stutter in my chest, I knew that it would be hard for me to abide by my own rules.

I’d become transfixed the moment my eyes landed on her, standing in the middle of the parking lot looking almost like a little sheep that found their way into the den of wolves. How bright her eyes were as they locked with mine. The way her lips moved as she talked to Noah. How they twitched when she spoke my name.

Matthew.

My body shivered when I remembered how sweet it sounded falling from her pink lips.

“Is she coming?” I asked while loading up the last of the crates.

Noah still wore that annoying smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, she already had plans with a friend.”

All I did was hum as I shut the door of the truck, doing my best to ignore the way my heart sunk in my stomach.

“Well, let’s hope she’ll be here on time tomorrow because I’m not waiting for her even if she’s two minutes late,” I adjusted my hat.

Noah squeezed my shoulder. “Have some faith, Matthew.”

He quickly scurried away before I could do anything in retaliation for using my full name. A familiar car pulled up which made Noah sprint towards it and wrap his arms around the figure that stepped out from behind the steering wheel. My heart ached while watching the love they shared, like it always did. I wasn’t jealous of either of them. I was jealous of what they had.

“Matt!” Her voice called over from where Noah had her in his arms. “Are you riding with us?”

Putting on my best fake smile, I gave her a thumbs up. “Just promise no dessert nicknames the entire drive, please?”

FAYE

Stifling a yawn behind my hand, I let my shoes scuff along the pavement as I walked up the familiar drive, the rising sun casting me in an everglow of orange and golden hues. The birds sang their morning songs and the grass was still wet with the morning dew as I came to a stop in the somewhat empty parking lot. I’d expected everyone to be here, ready to load up, but then again I was ten minutes early. Not wanting to leave my car here for three weeks, I had Tay drop me off. My plan for running into a certain someone failed when we got too caught up watching a crime documentary on her television.

“You’re early.”

Whirling around at the voice, I saw Matt leaning against the door of the tour bus drowning in a hoodie and joggers. He gave off a comfortable vibe that nearly matched my own. Knowing we had a long drive to the first city, I opted to wear biker shorts and an oversized shirt; one that caught Matt’s eyes immediately but never saying anything about it.

Adjusting my backpack, I gripped the handle of my suitcase a little tighter.

“I’m an early bird,” I shrugged. “Figured it was better to be early rather than late.”

Matt hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest, and I felt his burning gaze all over me. We were standing close to each other and I could feel his body heat radiate off of him, encasing me. The sunrise caught the darkness of his eyes causing them to sparkle and I drank in the sight of the faint stubble that peppered his chin. The sharpness of his cheekbones and the way they could cut my finger if I dragged it across it had me halting doing so. The way my skin ignited as his gaze lingered on my face made my heart skip a beat. It was as if he was taking his own mental pictures but never once making a sound or moving. Simply leaning against the bus while I squirmed on my feet. Teal strands of hair fell into my eyes and I gently brushed them away. I could have sworn I had the softest intake of breath from Matt but it was so quiet, I wasn’t sure.

He nodded towards my suitcase. “Can I?”

With a nod, I let him take it to put it in the undercarriage part of the bus, the calloused skin of his fingers brushing along my knuckles and instantaneously, I felt something spark inside of me. If Matt felt it, he made no indication and set my suitcase alongside all of the others. Then with a swift nod towards the door, he motioned for me to follow him up the stairs.

“Everyone is awake so no need to be quiet,” Matt said.

When we stepped into the main area of the bus, I felt myself freeze when a few different sets of eyes landed on me. Bryan gave me a wave and a smile while I looked at the four other men that were scattered throughout. I recognized them from not only knowing who Bad Omens were but also Lana’s rundown texts.

“You must be Faye,” Jolly wiped a hand on a towel as he was stocking the fridge.

“Nice to meet you,” I shook his hand.

Then after meeting Nicholas, I noticed Nick sitting in the far corner booth of the small kitchen area, a somber smile on his face.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Nicholas sighed. “Relationship trouble.”

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “What’s in the California water? That’s the third relationship trouble I’ve heard of in the last twenty four hours.”

When Nicholas raised a brow, I explained not only were Nick and Jesse going through something but so was my friend, Tay.

“Jolly, you better watch out. You could be next,” Steven teased after we exchanged greetings.

Jolly was silent, muttering something to himself in Sweden before retreating to the back of the bus. From what Lana told me, Jolly was in a relationship but it had been hard for him and his girlfriend. Almost everyone in this friend group had a significant other. Besides Matt and Bryan.

At the thought of Matt, I quickly peeked through the strands of hair that fell into my face yet again to see that he had sat on one of the couches and kept his attention on his phone.

“Or Noah’s relationship could be next,” Bryan chuckled. “Him and-.”

“We are perfectly fine, thank you. No need to worry,” Noah’s voice echoed throughout the bus as he stepped into the main area.

They all gave him a quick wave in greeting and when he saw me standing there, clutching my things, he raised a brow.

“Did anyone show you to your bunk?”

I shook my head. “No. I mean, I could find it myself but I didn’t want to make it seem like I’m imposing where I shouldn’t be.”

My hands shook with nerves and I could practically feel my heart pounding in my throat and ears. It felt like everyone was staring at me, even though I knew it wasn't the case. Noah glanced over to Matt, who still couldn’t be bothered to look away from his phone, and then let out a long sigh.

“Come on. If my girlfriend found out that I didn’t give you the proper welcoming tour, she’d kick my ass,” Noah smiled before leading me towards the back area of the bus that housed the bunks.

“Not that you would complain,” Bryan chuckled from behind us.

“Some of us snore; me included. So I hope you brought some headphones,” Noah joked.

All I could do was give a small smile and set my backpack down on the empty bunk he pointed too. It was the last one available on the top left, closer to the back lounge.

It was still early morning and the lack of sleep from last night was beginning to creep deep in my bones. Noah let out a small laugh when he saw me try to hide a yawn behind my hand.

“You should get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive to the next city,” he suggested.

I waved him off. “I’ll be alright. I feel like maybe I should sit and chat with you guys. Get to know you.”

“After you,” Noah extended a tattooed arm back to the front of the bus.

There was only one spot left to sit; right next to Matt. Noah opted to help Jolly set up a little breakfast while I slowly sat down on the couch, purposely leaving a few feet between Matt and I.

“So, Faye. Lana is your cousin?” Nicholas wondered while sitting across from me.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to find a comfortable position that would help ease my nerves. “Yeah. Our mom’s are sisters.”

“Photography runs in the family, huh?” Bryan now asked as he was messing around with his camera.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “My dad did it as a hobby while I was growing up but I was always interested. When I was old enough and wanted to start myself, he gave me one of his older ones. I don’t use that one as much, only for really special occasions.”

“Lana said you two are pretty close,” Jolly said.

I nodded before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I grew up with four brothers; three older and one younger. So I spent as much time as I could at Lana’s house.”

We all continued to chat for a while, long after the bus finally began moving and the sun rose to its full heightened glory. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to all of them. Well, almost all of them.

Matt didn’t say one word the entire time, simply kept to himself while typing away on his phone. Never once did I bother to glance over at him with the looming curiosity as to what he was doing on his phone for the last two hours. While everyone made me feel welcome and comfortable, I couldn’t ignore the weird vibe I was getting from Matt. It was as if I was a pest infiltrating a home that was designed to keep me away. But I somehow managed to sneak in through the smallest of cracks.

Yet I also couldn't ignore the way my heart raced as I sat next to him. Or the way my blood pulsated inside of my veins when he shifted in his spot and our knees bumped against each other. I definitely couldn’t ignore the way Matt’s fingers twitched when I rested my hand between us on the couch. Ever so softly, I felt the calloused pad of this thumb brush along my wrist; so quick I nearly missed it.

Bryan and I were having a deep conversation on different ways we could work together on this tour that I didn’t realize Matt had retreated to the back of the bus. It wasn’t until I dismissed myself from the group with the muttering of wanting to take a nap that I found Matt standing in the narrow hallway between the bunks.

I knew I would need to squeeze past him to reach my bunk but it was then I realized he was also climbing down from his bunk; across from mine.

“Scuse me,” I mumbled while brushing past him, his chest nearly touching mine.

Silence must have been Matt’s strong suit because yet again, he said nothing. Standing toe to toe with him, I saw those dark eyes stare down at me underneath his hat. His pupils dilated causing his eyes to darken even more when his gaze rested on my lips as I spoke.

“I need to get up in my bunk,” I breathed, afraid to raise my voice above a whisper.

Agitation began to weigh heavy within me when Matt still said nothing, simply continued to stare at me. I knew I should keep it in check, not snap at him since he was technically my boss, but if this is how he was going to act the entire three weeks, there would be no possible way I’d be able to keep myself calm.

“Do you have a problem, Matthew?” I asked while crossing my arms over my chest.

His lips twitched. “It’s Matt.”

“That seems like something I’d call you if we were friends. You’ve been giving me the silent treatment since I met you yesterday. So it’s Matthew,” I shrugged.

Due to the tight space between us, I could feel his warm breath as it brushed over my lips when he cocked his head to the side. Every single fiber of my being felt like it had been set ablaze with that look alone and even though my hands were tucked away, I could still feel them shaking. My heart was beating hard against the cage in my chest and I knew Matt was able to hear it.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and I smelled the briefest scent of mint. The feeling of skin on skin had my eyes casting down to my leg where Matt’s fingers gently grazed over exposed skin of my thigh. I shivered underneath the touch, letting him know how much of an effect he had on me. It shouldn’t be like this, I didn’t know more than a few things Lana told me about him. But somehow he managed to sink his way inside of my mind.

Last night while I was trying to sleep, I’d been plagued with images of Matt. It didn’t help that our meeting earlier in the evening was short so once I was home and settled, I looked him up on social media. Not much gave him away on Twitter besides the occasional snarky remark that had me shaking my head and videos of racoons that had me smiling. On Instagram, I spent a few minutes scrolling through and mentally liking his pictures.

Until I actually liked one of his pictures.

From six months ago.

It was of him holding a kiwi guava flavored Celisus while standing in front of a cardboard cut out of one. I hadn’t noticed I accidentally liked it until I was scrolling back up a few minutes later and nearly fell out of my bed when I saw the red heart underneath the picture. I knew un liking the picture would do no good. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind Matt had seen the notification.

Maybe he didn’t since he made no mention of it. Or maybe he had seen it. It would explain the sly smirk playing on his lips at the moment.

“Consider yourself lucky. I don’t let anyone call me Matthew,” he hummed before slipping past me, back to the front of the bus.

I stood there for a moment, eyes unblinking, as the scent of him lingered in the air. It filled my senses and brought an oddly calm feeling over me. But that’s not what gave me pause. It was his words.

With a groan, I ran a hand down my face and climbed up into my bunk with the hope that a nap would cool down my heated skin. It wasn’t until I was comfortable in the bunk, wrapped underneath the blanket with my phone, I saw the notification from Instagram that came in over an hour ago; while I was sitting next to him and talking with Bryan.

Mattxdierkes followed you.

Mattxdierkes liked your photo.

“Shit,” I muttered while clicking on the notification.

It was a picture of me standing in front of the ocean during a gloomy morning, wearing a white cable knit sweater. You could barely see my face due to my teal hair covering it. The caption was a simple wave emoji. It was also posted last year meaning Matt had also done his own stalking. Although, a little voice in the back of my mind told me that this was not an accidental like. Matt meant it, which meant he knew about my own stalking.

Grumbling a slew of curses to myself, I buried my phone underneath the pillow and let the thought of sleep take me away.

MATT

Running a hand through my long and unruly hair, I did my best to comb out the knots before sliding a hat over it. I twisted and turned my neck to each side, breathing out a soft groan when the necessary bones cracked and popped. Years of touring with my old band and Bad Omens did a number on my back and neck but I tried not to complain too much. I love what I do and the people I do it with. But that didn’t mean I had to love the bunks I slept in.

The first three days of the tour flew by and with today’s off day, every single one of us was desperate for a relaxing day filled with brunch and touring the city.

With a quick flick of my eyes over to the bunk across from mine, I noticed that Faye’s was empty with the blanket and pillow fixed neatly. My heart began to race at the thought of her teal hair spread out against the silk pillowcase while she slept. Unlike all of us, she kept the curtain of her bunk open because of this irrational fear that she would suffocate.

“I hate feeling like I’m enclosed in a tight space,” she shrugged while Bryan jokingly teased her for it.

Faye almost immediately fit in with all of us, like she’d been working on the crew for years. Night one, her and Bryan found the perfect rhythm together; never once stepping on each other's toes. She understood Bryan was the main photographer so she opted in getting pictures of things he didn’t. Some that involved the sound deck.

More importantly, me.

I had every intention of keeping my guard up around her but the more her bright eyes shined at me and the way her melodic laugh reached my ears, I felt those walls slowly starting to chip away. Faye was there from set up to tear down helping all of us, never once complaining. Even after some long days, she always went to bed with a smile on her face; one that I couldn’t stop thinking about.

When Lana first told us that her cousin would be filling in for her, I immediately did my own research. I found her photography Instagram along with her personal one; it wasn’t until recently that I decided to follow both of them. But from the first moment I saw her most recent picture, Faye took my breath away.

It wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple selfie in front of a large mirror. She was wearing a golden sundress, showcasing off her long legs and the tattoo on her left arm of six fairies, surrounded by different flowers. Her teal hair cascaded down her back in waves, giving her an even more ethereal aura and it made my heart stutter in my chest.

I told myself not to get in over my head with these feelings. It was a simple crush that would lead to nothing. She was only joining us for a few weeks and once we returned back to Los Angeles, we would all part ways. No use in getting my heart broken; again.

But when I received the notification from Instagram about her liking an older picture of mine, I couldn’t stop the smile that came to my face. It was evident I had been on her mind as well. Again, I told myself not to think too much of it because it could have been an honest mistake.

Was it an honest mistake when she brushed her hand against yours? Or when she stood a little too close to you in the sound deck last night?

Groaning at the voice in my mind, I remembered the scent of Faye as she took a few minute breather during Miracle last night. She’d taken some videos from my spot in the sound deck and decided to hang back for a long moment, watching the set with a look of awe in those bright eyes. I did my best to focus on my work but the scent of her peach shampoo grazed my nose causing me to sigh in content. All of the blood rushed through my body with heat and I felt my cock twitch underneath my sweats when her shoulder brushed against my arm.

“Everything alright?” She asked.

I nodded, hitting the necessary buttons to cue up the next song. “Yep. Totally fine.”

Everything was not fine.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the small smile that played on her lips while she watched the guys perform their set. I couldn’t forget the way she smelled or the way my body ignited with just her simple touch.

What started off as a closed off relationship slowly began to blossom into a growing friendship. I was no longer giving her the cold shoulder, actually conversing with her when we were in the same room. Faye began to warm up to me as well, learning quickly that this “hater mode” people thought I had was only ever directed to people outside of my family.

She still called me Matthew though and I wasn’t about to admit to anyone how much I liked it when it fell from her pink lips; the ones that were always shiny from the gloss.

With a groan, I dragged a hand over my face before pulling out my phone to send a text to Noah.

Me: I’ll be there soon. Woke up late.

Almost immediately he texted back.

Noah Seb: Cool. We just got here. Faye should be waiting for you.

“What?” I muttered as I came into view of the front area of the bus, my eyes immediately connecting with those bright hazel ones that began plaguing my every thought.

Fay was sitting crossed legged on one of the couches with a book in her lap, teal waves falling over her face. I noticed how content she was reading, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. There were a few flowers placed behind her head, intertwined within her hair, and when she finally glanced up from her book due to me walking into view, she gave me a small smile.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” she pulled out one of the flowers from her hair to use it as a bookmark and then she closed the book, setting it on the seat next to her.

The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien.

It felt as if my soul had been intertwined with hers, connecting on such a level that I could feel something inside of me pulsating; bringing me closer to Faye.

This is that bullshit Noah was always jabbering about.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I rubbed a hand over the tattoo on my left arm; the one dedicated to The Lord of The Rings. Anytime I was around her, I always wore long sleeves so she never saw it but now that I wore shorter sleeves thanks to the warmer weather, Faye’s eyes quickly tracked my movement and I heard her suck in a breath.

“Elvish?” She rose to her feet and motioned towards the script writing along my wrist.

“Y-yeah. It’s one of my favorite movies,” I rubbed at the back of my neck, suddenly nervous under her gaze.

Those hazel eyes sparkled as they tracked over every line of ink on my arm and eventually she sighed. “I never thought I’d be jealous of you, Matthew.”

I snorted. “I’ll take that as a win.”

We stood there for a long beat, both just staring at each other, and that magnetic pull I felt earlier was stronger now. It vibrated against my body, almost like it was forcing its way out so it could connect with Faye.

“We should have a marathon one day. Watch all six movies; The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings,” she spoke while still looking at the tattoo on my arm.

My mouth ran dry, trying to figure out what the best way to respond without sounding desperate because that’s all I wanted to do. Maybe we could skip out on brunch and hang back on the bus, just the two of us, and watch them.

Instead, no words came out of my mouth. They were tangled on my tongue and I looked like an idiot standing in front of her with moving lips that said nothing.

I could feel her starting to pull away from me and desperate to feel some kind of contact again, I let my fingers reach for her hand to link our fingers together until she cleared her throat and motioned towards the outside.

“We should probably go. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Sure,” I nodded.

The walk to the restaurant was quiet as she walked a few paces ahead of me, holding the camera close to her chest. She wore a flowy white sundress, highlighting her skin even more and the soles of her sandals smacked against the concrete making it look like she was floating in the air as she skipped. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I typed out a message to Noah.

Me: Dude, she was reading The Hobbit. She’s a fan of LOTR.

Noah Seb: Have you guys left yet? I’m starving.

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Me: Did you not see what I said? She was reading The Hobbit! What are the odds she’d be reading that book?

Me: Also, yes we're on our way.

I glanced up from my phone in time to catch Faye taking a picture of me.

“Whoever you were texting, must have been serious because of the look on your face,” she informed me in regards to my raised brow.

“Yeah, you could say that,” I muttered under my breath before texting Noah again, who had yet to respond.

Me: She saw my LOTR tattoo and made a comment of maybe watching the movies together. I was an idiot and didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. She probably thinks I don’t want to. But I do.

Me: She probably doesn't feel the same. There’s no use getting my hopes up for something that won’t happen. I need to focus on work.

Noah Seb: Is this how I was? In the beginning?

I snorted.

Me: No, you two were worse.

Pocketing my phone, I followed step in step with Faye as we turned the corner, the restaurant coming into view. Her aura radiated like wings fluttering, making my heart do the same when she glanced up at me.

She gave me a smile of thanks as I opened the door for her, her scent was all consuming when she walked past me. The restaurant was busy for a late Saturday morning which made the front waiting area packed causing me to slide up behind Faye. People were brushing past us to find their way out and nearly stumbling into her, I grasped both hands on her hips to keep myself steady.

“Sorry,” I breathed against the shell of her ear. “Some asshole nearly knocked me over.”

She giggled, the sound making my stomach flutter. I wasn’t sure what shifted between us from our first meeting, maybe it was the fact that I was starting to open up to her more that I was seeing a different side of Faye; a softer side.

“It’s alright, Matthew,” she glanced over her shoulder to me.

She still called me Matthew but I wasn’t about to correct her or tell her how much I loved it.

“Oh, look!” Faye pointed towards the large table in the far corner of the restaurant where everyone had been waiting for us.

The immense cold I felt when she slipped through my grasp made me shudder and reluctantly, I followed behind her; my eyes never leaving her back.

Something Nicholas caught but said nothing as I sat next to him. The only other open spot was next to me which is where Faye was, already talking with Jolly. Eyes grazed over the menu, trying to figure out what to get when soft fingers grazed over my arm, causing me to shiver under her touch.

“What are you going to get?” Faye wondered.

“Not sure. What about you?”

She pursed those plump lips and my eyes locked in on them, desperately wanting to know what they tasted like.

“I can’t decide. The eggs benedict sounds good but the french toast is calling my name,” she sighed dreamily at the pictures of the food.

For the next while as the waitress came to take our orders, I busied myself on my phone to make sure everything was set up for the show tomorrow. Everyones conversations were hushed around me doing my best to focus on my phone and not the person beside me. The way her voice sounded so magical or the way she looked intently at Noah across the table as he divulged about his relationship.

Now that he was finally where he wanted to be with her, Noah wouldn’t stop talking about her any chance he could.

“She was actually the one who suggested I add the woo in The Death of Peace of Mind,” Noah chuckled while taking a long drink of his water.

“I was wondering where that came from,” Faye said.

Finally finished with the work on my phone, I set it down just as our food came and the waitress placed the eggs benedict in front of me. Immediately I took half of it and set it on an extra plate, sliding it over to Faye.

“Matthew,” she smiled. “You don’t need to share your food with me.”

I shrugged while licking off the sauce from my finger. “This way you get what you wanted.”

Her eyes were fixated on my thumb gliding over my bottom lip before she seemed to snap out of it and cut her french toast in half to set it on my plate.

“Wow, sharing food? Matt doesn’t share food with anyone,” Bryan said. “I actually don’t think any of these guys share their food with their girlfriends.”

Noah snorted. “Excuse me? I’ll remind you I always share with-.”

Once again their conversations fell away as I ate quietly, every so often glancing over to Faye who was already watching me. There was the smallest bit of powdered sugar on the corner of her lips, almost teasing me to lick it clean. But before I could give in to the urge, she wiped it away with a finger after she caught me staring.

With the plates cleared from the table and the bill in front of me, I started to grab my wallet the same time Faye began to reach for her purse.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nick waved her off. “Matthew pays.”

My eyes sliced into him. “It’s Matt.”

“Matt pays. Or should I say, the business always pays,” Nick corrected himself.

“Oh,” Faye’s eyes sparked over at me and she bumped her shoulder with mine. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you.”

On the walk back to the bus, I hung back with Noah and Jolly while Faye and Bryan talked about all the different shots and videos they could get tomorrow night. She’d been wanting to try out the video aspect of her camera and Bryan mentioned that he’d be more than happy to show her how.

“You’re staring,” Jolly’s voice broke through my trance on Faye’s side profile.

Pushing his shoulder, I shook my head and focused my attention straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why you’re trying to hide how you feel about it. It’s clear there’s some kind of feeling there.”

“The last thing I need right now is a relationship. Especially with someone who works for me. It’s bound to get messy,” I said.

“You don’t know that, Matt,” Jolly adjusted his sunglasses. “You deserve to be happy too.”

I shrugged. “She’s twenty five. I’m almost thirty.”

Noah pulled me to a stop and removed his sunglasses momentarily. “Is that what's stopping you?”

Sighing, I scuffed my shoe against a rock. “It wouldn’t work out. I’m trying to save us both from heartbreak when it comes eventually.”

Not wanting to explain my reasoning any further, I gave them a weak smile before walking the last little distance to the bus. But my footsteps faltered when I noticed a small stand set up right next to where our bus was parked.

Fresh Flowers.

I lingered on one set of flowers, the vivid color reminding me of someone sweet. While the rest of the guys ascended the bus, I held back to wait in line. Five minutes later, I stepped into the main area of the bus where Faye was sitting back in her previous spot from earlier, The Hobbit perched in her lap again. Those hazel eyes glimmered when she glanced up at me and I swore all of the breath was stolen from my lungs.

“What’s this?” She motioned to the single flower in my grasp.

“Uh, Tulips. It reminded me of you,” my voice shook with nerves as I hastily handed the teal flower to her.

She twirled it in her fingers while bringing it to her nose to smell it.

“Thank you, Matthew. This was very sweet of you.”

The smile that played on her lips was one of the most genuine ones I’d ever seen and it made that invisible string inside me vibrate with such a force, I nearly stumbled on my feet.

“You’re welcome,” I gave her a small smile before making my way to the bunk area of the bus.

Jolly had been leaning against the kitchen counter with a sly smile on his lips causing me to roll my eyes at him and grumble a few curses under my breath. I could continue to lie to myself and say that I didn’t think of Faye like that. But it was all a lie, everyone knew it. In the short amount of time she’d been a part of our crew, she managed to also become a part of me in a way that had me wondering how the hell that happened.

I thought Noah was crazy for spewing all that shit about soulmates but every time I watched Faye, I couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right. Because the feeling that stirred inside of me every time Faye and I were close to each other was unexplainable.

Faye was her own mythological being in the sense that she captivated my interests the moment my eyes caught sight of her. The desperation to find out everything I could about her was heavy on my heart. I tried to tell myself that I would never work between us yet every passing moment in her presence told me otherwise. Her spirit was unlike any other. It held so much light, wonder, and magic.

Her name gave way to who she was as a person.

Faye.

My little fairy.

FAYE

“Faye, where are you?”

Cursing at the voice that crackled through the radio, I adjusted the box of merch on my hip so I could answer Steven.

“I’m grabbing the last box of shirts. Is the back door still propped open?”

“Yep. But heads up, fans are starting to be let in so it’s already crowded at the merch table.”

“Great,” I grumbled under my breath before carrying the box from the truck back into the venue.

It had been a very long day and the show hadn’t even started yet. I woke up late after not being able to sleep due to a rough drive from city to city. There had been some confusion on when we’d be allowed into the venue which caused Matt to go full thot blaster mode but even so, we weren’t allowed in until three this afternoon. The guys had to rush through a soundcheck while Steven had trouble setting up the merch table so I spent the last two hours helping him. We were rushing to get things set up in time before doors opened but it proved to be futile when I saw the crowds rushing inside.

My mind had been held up by one recurring moment that happened earlier today; one that continued to make me blush.

“Does this sound funky to you?” Folio asked while messing with his drum kit.

Kooter shrugged. “I think it sounds fine, man. You might just be overthinking it.”

I was walking past the stage when Folio stopped me. “Faye, do the kick pedals sound off?”

With my urging, he messed around with the kick pedals of his drum set which in turn made me shrug.

“I’m no professional like Kooter but it does sound fine to me.”

A warm presence was felt behind me before a can dripping with condensation was held in front of my face.

I peered a glance over my shoulder towards Matt, who shook the Celsius can in front of my face.

“I figured you’d need this today,” he said.

A large smile broke out on my face as I took the can, immediately popping it open. “Arctic Vibe? I’ve never had this flavor.”

Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “It reminded me of your hair.”

We stood like that, him behind me with me turning half of my body towards him. We were so close, I could feel the warmth radiate off of him in droves and when he reached a hand up towards my hair his actions were halted by Folio calling for him.

“Matt! I need your opinion!”

He left my side with a soft brush of fingers against my hand.

I’d been hurriedly trying to get back inside with my mind full of Matt, I didn’t see the large curb causing me to stumble and drop the box of shirts all over the parking lot. I hissed when the stinging pain burned in my knee and noticed I ripped a large hole in my leggings. Blood oozed from the wound on and I pressed a hand to it trying to stop it.

“Fuck,” I blew out a shaky breath, doing my best to keep the tears from falling.

“Faye?”

Through the tears, I watched as Matt walked out of the venue, worry evident on his face.

“What happened?”

“I’m a fucking klutz and tripped,” I mumbled.

He was quick to kneel in front of me, gently removing my hand to check out the damage to my knee and winced.

“Come on,” his voice was gentle as his arms lifted me from the ground, carrying me bridal style over towards the tour bus on the other end of the lot.

“The shirts!” I peered over his shoulder to the scattered pile of Bad Omens merch.

Matt sighed before motioning to the radio strung over my chest so I pressed down the button.

“Faye took a nasty fall in the parking lot while carrying the box of shirts. Can anyone scoop them up before someone finds them to sell them on Ebay?”

I snickered at the distaste in Matt’s voice.

“I’ve got it,” Noah’s voice came through the radio. “Does anyone need to scoop Faye up?”

“Already handled,” I replied.

A round of teasing ‘ooooo’s’ prompted Matt to shut off the radio as we reached the tour bus. All of the blood that wasn’t rushing to the hole in my knee was found warming my cheeks when I noticed how close our faces were to one another. I observed the lines next to his eyes, showing how exhausted he was. It was only one week into the tour and we still had two more to go. There were freckles lining the bridge of his nose that were really prominent when the sunlight casted over his face. He wore his hat backwards, allowing me to gaze into those dark eyes that seemed to go deeper than the ocean with their depths.

“What?” He questioned, carrying me up the stairs of the bus.

“No-nothing,” I breathed.

For the last week I’d been telling myself not to fall for him. I wasn’t here for a relationship. I was here for work. I didn’t need to get distracted with the first pair of eyes that looked at me.

Even if those eyes seemed to emit light whenever I caught them watching me; which was pretty often.

Given the small space in the back area of the bus, Matt had to maneuver us so he was able to carry me into the bathroom.

“I can walk,” I reminded him as he kicked open the bathroom door.

Matt made a noise that sounded like I offended him while setting me down on the edge of the bathroom counter. The bathroom was the smallest part of the bus and with me sitting on the counter, Matt had to stand between my legs. Due to the slight height difference, I was the one staring down at him for once, only by an inch or two.

My eyes tracked as his throat bobbed when he took a deep breath, spreading his hands on either side of me to rest on the edge of the counter. Our shared body heat wrapped around us in a makeshift cocoon, locking us in.

“Does it hurt?” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“A bit, yeah,” I admitted with an even quieter voice than his.

His eyes flicked down to my lips before slowly he kneeled in front of my injured knee to get a better look at it.

“Well, I don’t think you need stitches but I should clean it to get a better look at it,” his gaze swept up to me.

When I nodded, he rummaged underneath the sink between my legs to pull out the first aid kit.

“How connected to these leggings are you?”

My brows furrowed at his question. “Huh?”

The round of fabric ripped echoed in the small confines of the bathroom and I gaped at Matt who managed to rip the leggings away from me, knee down. The entire action made something burn inside of me. The way the muscles in his arms flexed as he pulled the last bit of the material away from my leg.

Fuck, why was that so hot?

Maybe because you want him to do that to the rest of your clothes.

“Please don’t kick me,” Matt said.

“What-Fuck!” I bellowed when the sting of hydrogen peroxide seeped into my open wound.

Out of a normal reaction, I jerked my leg only for Matt to wrap his strong arm around it, keeping locked against him.

“I said please,” he exasperated while keeping his eyes on mine.

“It fucking hurt!” I yelled.

His jaw ticked. “I didn’t realize how much of a baby you were.”

I scoffed in disbelief. “Has anyone told you how much of an ass you are sometimes?”

The arm that wasn't holding onto my leg shrugged. “Yes, but not to the ones I care about.”

I sat on his words for a moment, trying to understand if I heard him right.

“Does that mean you care about me?” I finally voiced my curiosity.

Matt tenderly brushed a cotton ball across the cut on my knee before his warm breath fanned across it causing me to shiver.

“I’m squished in this small ass bathroom to take care of your knee, what do you think?”

He gave his infamous Matt Dierkes smirk and I rolled my eyes playfully before watching him clean the wound on my knee then placing a small bandage over it.

“Am I going to live, doctor?” I teased.

Matt hummed deep, the sound vibrating in his chest as his fingers grazed up and down my exposed leg, the sensation sending shockwaves through my veins. He slowly rose to full height again, face now meters from mine, and I sucked in a breath when I felt his warm breath fan over my lips.

“I think,” his hand ghosted over my hip. “I think you might need another check up later. Just to make sure.”

My cheeks burned and I cast my eyes down to my hands that were in my lap, unable to meet his intense gaze.

“Fairy.”

Calloused fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to lock eyes with him, and I scrunched up my nose when I realized what he had called me.

“What did you say?” My voice croaked out.

Matt’s cheeks were warm to the touch as my finger grazed over those defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered shut with every tender stroke against his smooth skin and he let out a content sigh.

“Fairy,” he repeated and it made my stomach flip three times over.

He traced over the fairy tattoos on my arm, following the intricate designs of the flowers, and I leaned in closer to his touch. It managed to awake something inside of me that I never knew lay dormant. It was as if a flame slowly ignited with each passing touch or stolen glance and now that Matt’s lips were so close to mine, an outburst of something I wasn’t quite ready to understand was moments away from happening.

“No one’s ever called me that before,” I admitted with a shaky breath.

“Do you like it?”

I swallowed thickly while tracing my nail over the slight pout of his bottom lip. “I do.”

The noise that erupted from Matt’s throat was almost sinful and I felt something twinge inside of me.

“Good, because it stays. Fairy.”

Dark eyes weighed heavy on my awaiting lips as hands held onto my thighs, spreading my legs further apart for Matt to step into. I hesitantly reached for his shirt, the material clinging to my fingertips. The magnetic pull that was always felt between us was stronger now. My soul was practically reaching for his, desperate for a connection it had been looking for ever since I was born.

I never was one to believe in soulmates growing up but my father was certain that mine was out there because he had found his in my mother. Yet with the way my soul felt alive inside of me, I couldn’t help but think that maybe my father was right.

“Matthew,” I gasped when his lips ever so gently brushed along mine.

“Fairy, I-.”

“HOLY SHIT!”

Both of us pushed away from each other at the shrill voice that seemed to bounce off the walls of the bathroom and when my eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a shocked look on her face.

“Who the fuck are you?” Matt snapped while standing in front of me in a way to block me.

The young female blinked a few times as her mouth mimicked a fish out of water. “I thought I’d catch Noah.”

I could see the muscles in Matt’s back constricted as the rage began to build inside of him. Some fan had managed to get onto the bus with hopes of catching Noah doing something.

Fucking unbelievable.

“Ash, we’ve got an issue on the tour bus. We could use you over here,” I spoke into my radio after turning it back on.

“Everything alright?” Ash’s voice came through.

Matt ripped the radio from my hand. “We have a strangler on the bus.”

“What the fuck? How did that happen?”

Noah’s voice was filled with his own anger and agitation because he felt as if all of our personal space was tainted by some fan that couldn’t respect our boundaries.

A look of guilt crossed Matt’s features which gave me pause on why he felt that way. We weren't doing anything wrong. It wasn’t our fault a fan snuck up on the bus.

Soon, thunderous steps echoed in the bus and I quickly hopped off the counter and shield myself behind Matt even more. The fan’s head whipped wildly from us to now Ash who arrived with another security guard and Noah in tow.

“I just wanted a picture with Noah!” She bellowed while throwing her hands up. “I didn’t expect to see these two kissing!”

All the blood drained from my face when I realized that she must have been standing there for longer than we thought.

“We weren’t kissing, I was bandaging up her knee,” Matt said while clenching his fists at his side.

My eyes snapped up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and quietly scoffed at his words. Technically we didn’t kiss but for him to act like it almost didn’t happen made my stomach drop.

While Ash and the other guard escorted the girl off of the bus and most likely off the grounds in general, Noah’s eyes narrowed at us.

“How long was she in here for?” He asked with his hands on his hips.

Matt ran a hand over his face. “Man, I don’t know. I was in here helping Faye when that chick popped up out of nowhere.”

“Faye?” Noah’s voice softened when he took one glance at the way my lips turned down in a low scowl. “Everything alright?”

“Fine,” I blew out a shaky breath and brushed past Matt out of the bathroom.

“Fairy.”

Stopping momentarily in the tight space of the hallway, I glanced back at Matt and gave him my best forced smile “I’m good. I’m going to change my pants and then I’ll meet you guys inside.”

NOAH

I followed Matt closely as we stepped off the bus to give Faye some privacy and when we were out of earshot, I pulled him to a stop.

“You kissed her?” I asked.

He sighed while taking off his hat to shake out his hair. “No, well almost. I probably would have if that fan hadn’t snuck up on the bus. Which, I don’t even know how they did. If I wasn’t so distracted with Faye maybe-.”

I cut him off by grabbing his shoulders. “Matt, that wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, this shit happens.”

“This could have been much worse,” he said, anger still heavy in his voice. “I should go help Ash deal with that. Be a manager and not some dude distracted by some crush.”

“Why do you keep trying to tell yourself that this is only some crush? It’s clear both of you have feelings for each other. Just admit it to each other.” I said.

Matt hesitated for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I can’t admit something knowing that in the end, it won’t work out. I’m her boss. That’s all I can be.”

I furrowed my brows. “You don’t know that things won’t work out.”

Before Matt could respond, Faye stepped out of the bus with her camera clutched around her neck and paid no mind to either of us as she scurried inside the venue; his eyes never leaving her.

“Is this because of your own fears that you’re keeping yourself from something that could potentially make you happy?” I wondered.

He snorted before placing his hat back on. “You see a shrink once a week and now you think you’re some great philosopher.”

Playfully pushing him, we began to walk back towards the venue step in step. “She knows a thing or two about relationships. Why do you think mine is flourishing right now?”

Once inside, we took the back hallway towards the greenroom where everyone had been hanging out. Matt’s eyes immediately found Faye who was sitting on the couch setting up her camera for tonight. The way he watched her so intently brought a small smile to my face because it was something I would do. He could tell himself a thousand times over that this relationship wouldn't work because he’s her boss but with that gillmer of light that shined in his eyes whenever he watched Faye, we all knew those words meant nothing.

“Don’t rid yourself of happiness, Matt,” I squeezed my best friend's shoulder. “You deserve it.”

All he did was hum, still keeping his eyes trained on Faye.

FAYE

The crowd was electric tonight, feeding off the energy Bad Omens radiated from the stage. It put a big pep in my step as I found myself bobbing my head along to the music while snapping countless pictures of them. It helped keep my mind off of the almost kiss in the tour bus bathroom but now that I had decided to let Byran work the main stage and saunter over towards the sound deck, all I could think about was Matt.

How close he was to me in the small space.

How warm his body felt against mine and the way he grasped onto me like I would slip through his fingers.

I wanted to know how he tasted, how his lips felt as they moved against mine.

At first, I was upset when he brushed off the almost kiss but the more I thought about it, I realized that maybe it was better he did. We both got lost in the haze that we nearly cost Bad Omens a lot with that fan sneaking up on the bus. So I told myself that I needed to focus on my job which is what I originally was here for.

The second I stepped into the sound desk, Matt’s eyes quickly found mine from underneath the rim of his hat. It was the intermission part of the show so Matt had been typing away on his phone but when he saw me, quickly he pocketed it.

“Hi,” he said over the music and noise from the crowd.

I swallowed thickly. “Hi.”

He shifted in his spot. “How’s your knee?”

“Hurts like a bitch but I’ll live,” I shrugged while holding onto my camera.

Silence for a long beat before Matt motioned to the stage.

“How’s it going up there?”

“Good,” I nodded while taking a step towards him. “Everything sounds great. But I wanted to get a look at the visuals from here if that’s alright?

He extended a hand next to him. “You don’t have to ask, Faye.”

Slinking up next to him, I sucked in a breath when the familiar feeling of Matt encased around me. It pulled me further and further down the abyss that was him and no matter how hard I tried to crawl my way out, I knew it was futile. My heart desperately wanted to be here.

Neither of us said anything, Matt clicking away on his laptop and me quickly checking my emails. I’d been waiting on an important one the last few days and the anxiety of not knowing if I got the job or not was making it hard to focus on other things.

Besides Matt.

I knew this job with Bad Omens was temporary but being on the road with them made me realize that I thrived in this life and I wanted more of it.

“Everything alright?” Matt asked when he saw my shoulders fall.

Shoving my pocket into the back pocket of my jeans, I gave a half shrug. “I applied to be a full time photographer for a band but haven’t heard anything yet.”

“What band?”

“Hollow Souls. I saw them for the first time on tour with nothing,nowhere and knew I wanted to work with them. Y/N’s energy on stage is insane. I got great shots of her I wish she could have seen,” I said with a sigh.

The smile that spread out on Matt’s face made my heart flutter but he said nothing, simply moved around me to click a few things on the sound board when he realized it was the end of the intermission.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Do you want to start the intro for Bad Decisions?” He smirked.

My eyes doubled. “What? I don’t know how.”

Matt pointed to something on his laptop then I felt his warm breath against my ear when he moved closer to me.

“Click it in three,” his fingers trailed down my spine

My own fingers shook as it hovered over the buttons.

“Two,” he now slipped behind me.

His broad chest pressed right up against my back and I could feel his cock against the swell of my ass. I bit my lip when one of his hands slipped underneath my sweater, grazing over my heated skin.

“One,” his hands now rested on both sides of me, gripping the ends of his sound desk to lock me in.

With a gleeful smile, I clicked on Bad Decisions, the intro starting along with the visuals on the screens.

“Good job,” he mused in the crook of my neck. “If photography doesn't work out, you could always be my assistant.”

Ignoring the way my stomach flipped at his praise, I slowly turned in his embrace and smiled up at him while taking his hat, and putting it on. “In your dreams.”

With a fit of giggles, I slipped out from underneath his arms and only for him to wrap an arm around my midsection, pulling me back into his chest.

“I need my hat, fairy,” he breathed against my neck.

Turning my head towards him, I let my words linger over his lips before sneaking away from the sound desk, still wearing his hat.

“You’ll have to catch me, first.”

Y/N(Angel)

Taking a sip from my coffee, I clicked away at my laptop while the hustle and bustle of the cafe behind me fell acted as a white noise while I worked. I’d been busy searching through a list of potential candidates for Hollow Souls new photographer. After Lana did our new promo shots, I still felt guilty for taking her away from her main job with the guys, so Malcolm, Chase, and I decided that we would need our own full time photographer.

“How’s it going?” Astrid asked while setting a plate of chocolate mochis in front of me.

I groaned. “Not that great. I thought they’d be at least one but so far, a whole lot of nothing.”

Giving me a somber smile, she went back to working the register as my phone buzzed on the counter next to me.

Matt: I need to ask you something.

Raising a brow, I put my work on hold for a moment to respond to him.

Me: I am at your service.

Me: Also, isn’t BO on stage right now? Shouldn’t you be working?

Matt: Intermission.

Matt: How did you know Noah was the one you wanted?

“That’s a loaded question,” I muttered to myself before replying.

Me: It wasn't really a moment. More so a feeling. It’s when my heart felt empty when he was gone but when he was around, it felt full. Cliche, I know. But that’s the only way to describe it.

Me: Does this have something to do with a certain blue haired photographer?

Matt: Noah told you? 🙄

I giggled at his choice of emoji.

Me: Mochi tells me everything.

Me: Don’t tell him I said his nickname to you. He still likes to pretend no one knows.

Matt: I’m going to get back at him, I swear. He thinks he’s some sort of philosopher now talking about how I shouldn’t rid myself of happiness because of my own fears.

“That does sound like him,” I smiled while taking a sip of my now cold coffee.

Me: He’s right, you know. You do deserve happiness, Matt. I haven’t seen you two together but from what I hear, it seems like both of you are smitten for each other.

Matt: She was reading The Hobbit, Y/N! Out of all the books she could be reading, why that one?

Matt: And her smile? Fuck, it pierces my heart every time.

Matt: Don’t even get me started on her laugh. The way the skin next to her eyes crinkle when she laughs. I want to be the one that gets to hear that every day.

I smiled at how he was talking about her, knowing the exact feeling he was going through. I’d felt it with Noah many times before.

Me: Tell her that. Don’t let Boss Matt get in the way of the happiness you deserve.

Matt: That’s the thing, I am her boss. I don’t think it’s a good idea if I get involved with her. We still have two weeks left on tour. What if something goes sour and it doesn’t work out? I can’t risk that.

Matt: Fuck, she’s here. I have to

I waited for another text to come through after the unfinished one but after a moment, I realized he must have got caught up with something so switching from his texting thread to Noah’s, I typed out a message I knew he would see later when he was off stage. Yet I paused at the unread text from Noah that I must have missed earlier.

Mochi 🍡: 10 more days and you’re finally going to be sleeping next to me. I miss you so much angel. I’m never going to let you go.

With heat creeping to my cheeks, I broke out in a huge smile knowing that soon I’d be joining them for the rest of their tour.

Me: Matt is sooooo smitten with Faye.

Me: Also, facetime me later when you’re back on the bus. I want to see your mochi face. 🍡🍡

About twenty minutes later, after Malcolm and Chase joined me at Fika, we were about to give up on our search for a photographer when Matt’s new text changed our minds.

Matt: Answer Faye’s email. She sent in her application and resume.

I raised a brow before telling Chase to search up Faye’s name in my inbox.

“It went to spam,” he said while showing me the email that had a pretty lengthy resume attached.

Malcolm read it over my shoulder. “Is this the girl filling in for Lana right now?”

“Yeah. She seems to have Matt pretty smitten,” I said while working out a reply email.

“Matt Dierkes? Smitten?” Chase chuckled while leaning farther back into his chair. “I find that hard to believe.”

After hitting send on the email, I quickly sent a text to Matt.

Me: I hope you know that your input had nothing to do with this.

Matt: She deserves this more than anyone.

FAYE

I sat on the edge of the stage, legs swinging in the air, as I clicked through all of the photos I took tonight. I paused on one that made my heart beat unevenly in my chest.

Matt in the sound deck after I’d taken his hat. His hair was unruly but his eyes were transfixed on his equipment as he worked. There was a sense of peace on the soft features of his face as he did something that he loved.

Ruckus voices carried from the open side door of the venue where everyone had been loading up the trucks but I paid them no mind, still clicking through my pictures.

“I like it when I tickle the cervix,” Jolly chuckled.

My eyes snapped up from underneath the hat and glanced over to the group of guys intime to see Noah eat a tomato whole causing me to grimace.

Matt snickered. “I’d like to nut in her hard.”

I titled my head at the guys as they continued to laugh at their obvious talks about sex. But when those dark eyes landed on me, Matt’s shoulders stiffened.

“Shit,” Nicholas cursed. “Sorry Faye. We sometimes forget that it’s not just a big group of guys working.”

I waved them off, knowing that their sex talk didn’t bother me. Although, Matt’s statement made my face grow a deep crimson.

“I’m more so stuck on the fact that Noah just raw dogged a tomato like that,” I admitted with a shiver.

He shrugged. “I fucking love tomatoes.”

While the rest of them finished taking out the last bit of equipment, Matt came to sit next to me at the end of the stage. Both of our legs swayed together, every so often our feet would knock into each other.

“Have you checked your email recently?” He asked.

“No,” I sighed while setting my camera off to the side. “I’m starting to think that they might have passed on me.”

Matt bumped his shoulder with mine before throwing his hair into a low bun. “Maybe you should check it again.”

“Why? So my heart can break even more?” I semi-joked while pulling out my phone but froze when I read the new email.

Dear Faye,

First off I’d like to apologize for how long it took us to respond. For some reason your application went to our spam folder. Chase, Malcolm, and I would love it for you to officially join our team! If you accept, we’ll send over the necessary documents for you to sign and we can get you started as soon as you return from your contract with Bad Omens.

Talk soon!

Hollow Souls

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed while nearly dropping my phone. “I got the job!”

Before I could register exactly what happened, I found myself jumping onto Matt who fell back against the old wood of the stage. His hands rested on my hips keeping me in place while I gazed down at him, my legs locking him in on both sides. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as those eyes drank in the sight of me straddling him.

“Fairy,” he lifted his chin up towards me.

Thoughts of our almost kiss in the tour bus bathroom crept into the forefront of my mind and all I wanted was to finally feel those lips on mine. Days of constant flirting and stolen glances led up to this moment yet I hesitated with fear of making the first move. His eyes flicked down to my awaiting lips; a silent question.

“Please,” I whimpered.

Strong hands gripped the back of my head, knocking off his hat that I still wore, and forced me to those lips I’d been craving and when we finally collided it was as if the stars exploded in the sky. Goosebumps rose to my skin and when Matt’s tongue glided over my bottom lip, wanting entrance into my mouth, I accepted with a moan. Our lips molded together perfectly, almost as if we were made for one another. Our souls connected in a tangle of webs, our desire growing stronger and stronger as our tongues fought for dominance. I linked my hands with Matt’s, locking them above his head and I rutted my hips deeper into his, brushing my clit against the hardness of his cock. He groaned into my mouth while trying to free his hands from my grip. I nipped at his bottom lip before devouring them again, reveling in the lingering taste of his drink from earlier.

“Matthew,” I keened against his lips.

Finally he was able to break free from my grasp on his wrists and he slid up a hand underneath my shirt. Fingers grazing at the bottom of my bralette, playing with the lacey material.

A clearing of a throat caused me to scramble off of his lap, fixing my shirt in the process. Matt swiftly sat up while not so discreetly fixing himself and when our eyes locked in on the promoter of the venue, I heard Matt mutter something under his breath before rising to his feet, placing the hat back on his head.

“Am I interrupting something?” Jason, the prompter, asked with a clear look of annoyance on his face.

“No. I apologize for that,” Matt didn’t bother to look in my direction.

Jason made a noise in the back of his throat. “Well, if you’re finished with that. I’m ready to close out the final bill.”

“I'll meet you in your office,” Matt said with a thick voice, hands resting in his pockets.

Jason flicked his eyes over towards me as I sat on the edge of the stage yet again, hiding my burning embarrassment behind my hair. His footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness of the venue and when he was gone, Matt let out a long groan while running a hand over his face.

“Faye,” his voice was stern. “That was completely unprofessional.”

My head snapped over towards him, rage consuming me. “You’re equally to blame, Matthew. You didn’t stop it. All day you’ve been teasing me so don’t act like this was my fault.”

Even though his eyes softened, the tone in his voice didn’t. “I know I’m also to blame. But that can’t happen again. I’m your boss.”

Doing my best to keep the burning tears at bay, I snatched my camera and jumped off the stage. “Whatever you say, boss.”

The rage was still all consuming as I stepped outside, the chilly night air brushing against my heated skin, and when Noah took in sight of my agitated state, he gently stopped me from stomping into the bus.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

I let out a staggered breath, feeling those damn tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Noah’s brows furrowed from underneath the hood of his Hereditary sweater. “Are you sure? You came barreling out of that door like you were on a mission to chew someone's head off.”

For a moment, I stood silent as I tried to gather my thoughts on everything that happened the last ten minutes. Me checking my email on Matt’s request, to find out I got the job with Hollow Souls, and then our kiss that was abruptly interrupted by the promoter. But something stood out among the rest, causing me to purse my lips.

“How did Hollow Souls know I’m on tour with you? I never made it public knowledge,” I asked Noah.

He blinked, almost taken aback by my words. “What about Hollow Souls?”

I then divulged on how I applied to be their full time photographer and how I ended up getting the job.

“Oh,” Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Y/N’s my girlfriend.”

My jaw went slack at the sudden revelation, all of the pieces slowly clicking into place.

“Did you make her give me the job?” I asked.

“I promise you, Faye, I haven’t talked to her about it. I didn’t even know you were applying to be their photographer,” Noah assured me with a gentle squeeze of my shoulder.

“Who else would have told them,” I muttered to myself.

Suddenly the back door of the venue opened and Matt walked out with furry eyes.

“That stunt nearly lost us the contract here for future gigs,” he sneered.

I blinked at him, taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor. He was even angrier than before.

“That stunt?” I scoffed. “You mean our kiss?”

Noah’s head whipped between us and Jolly, who had been loading up the production truck, froze at my words.

“What we did was completely unprofessional, Faye. I had to talk down the prompter not to black list us from here,” Matt threw a hand back towards the venue.

“Did you tell Hollow Souls to give me the job?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

He blinked as his lips parted to speak, only to be met with silence; the silence that gave me my answer. Every high I felt from not only getting my dream job but the kiss we shared evaporated to the concrete beneath my feet. But I refused to let anyone see how defeated I was so I held my head up high with slits for eyes as I zoned in on Matt.

“I sincerely apologize for my unprofessional actions that involved you. I can assure you that it won’t happen again.”

Not bothering to hear another word from him, I brushed past Matt onto the bus.

MATT

A slew of grumbled curses fell from my lips as I clicked away at my laptop with an aggressive finger. Exhaustion had been weighing heavy on my shoulders causing dark circles under my eyes which made my friends worry. I assured them with a grunt that I was fine but everyone knew that was bullshit. Today, however, no one dared speak to me because they knew I was minutes away from saying something I knew I shouldn’t.

It had been a day of constant fuck ups. First, we were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, nearly missing our call time at the venue. Then while setting up our equipment, one of the techs nearly dropped Jolly’s guitar to the ground, almost breaking it. I’d never seen Jolly that shade of crimson as he did it best not to snap at the poor tech. More recently, I’d spent the last ten minutes trying to find the mix for Nowhere To Go on my system but it was as if it was wiped clean from my hard drive.

Yet the worst part of this shitty day? Faye hadn’t spoken one word to me in over forty eight hours. Guilt ate away at me for how I acted in regards to the kiss. It was one of the best ones I had and I couldn’t stop thinking about how her body felt on top of mine, those lips nipping and pulling at mine. She tasted sweet like honey and I found myself becoming addicted to Faye, desperate for another hit.

But it was unprofessional where we did it. It should have been in the private confines of a secluded room or our bus. We nearly lost a big contract with the previous promoter and with a lot of sweet talking for next time we played there, I was able to smooth things over.

Which is why I meant what I told Faye. I was her boss and we needed to remain professional. We couldn’t allow our growing desires for each other cloud what was right.

So you’re saying your feelings for her aren't right?

Muttering away the thoughts, I leaned farther back into my chair in the green room with my laptop still perched on my lap desperately trying to find where the fuck that track went. The room was filled with crew members who were taking their breaks from setting up. We should have been sound checking but because of the missing track, we were hours behind schedule. The constant chatter from everyone in the room however sounded like nails on a chalkboard so with a snap of my laptop, I tucked it under my arm and stormed out of the green room. I needed to find somewhere quiet to work.

Stepping out into the bright sun, I tucked my hat farther over my eyes but halted when a strained laugh caught my attention. I set down my laptop on one of the tables in the outdoor catering area just in time to see Faye talking with the guitar players of the opening band that had been supporting Bad Omens.

Tyler.

“So tomorrow is an off day,” Tyler mentioned while taking a small step towards Faye. “Do you have any plans?”

I watched as Faye shifted on her feet, playing with the ends of her teal hair. She had it down this afternoon, it blowing with the tender breeze that brought a chill to my bones even though I was dressed in a hoodie and joggers.

That or the fact that Tyler was standing too close to her.

Those bright eyes I found myself drowning in began to roam around her surroundings, as if she was looking for something. Or someone. When they landed on me, I would have missed the way she took a small intake of breath if I hadn’t already been watching her.

“Yeah, I do,” she said, never taking her eyes off of me. “I still have to work.”

Tyler took a step towards Faye, reaching for the hand that was gripping her hair.

“Cancel them. I’ve got this great thing planned for both of us.”

Suddenly forgetting the issues with the set, I stalked towards them head-on. My eyes narrowed at Tyler, anger festering low in my gut when I noticed he still hadn’t removed his fingers from her wrist.

“I’m not going to cancel my plans. That would be rude of me,” Faye’s soft voice eased away the anger slightly within me.

When she tried to step away from Tyler, his grip around her wrist tightened causing her to squirm in his grasp.

“Just make up an excuse. You’re sick. I’m sure whoever you have plans with would understand.”

Faye’s eyes dropped to the grip around her just as I reached them, hands balled up to fists at my side.

“Tyler, you’re nice-,” she started.

Tyler rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Come on, Faye. Just one night. We can fuck then go our separate ways.”

The shocked and disgusted expression that covered her beautiful features when Tyler pressed a kiss to her cheek was the tipping point. It was a list of things the last few days since we kissed. Faye ignoring me, not being able to find the missing track, not having my daily Celsius drink, and now seeing this asshole pressuring Faye; I was ready to combust.

“Faye,” my voice was tight, along with the grip around the wire of my radio as it hung around me. “Are you alright?”

Tyler’s gaze bounced between the both of us as I stood next to her. “We were talking, Matt.”

I threw my shoulders back, puffing my chest. “Really? Because it sounded like you were forcing her into something she didn’t want.”

Faye finally removed herself from Tyler’s grasp and slipped behind me. “We’re done here.”

Tyler’s eyes bounced between Faye and me, assessing the situation until a smug smile curled his lips.

“Oh so that’s it, you two are fucking?”

My heart damn near jumped in my throat when I heard Faye’s soft intake of breath.

FAYE

“Oh so that’s it, you two are fucking?”

Tyler pointed between Matt and I, causing my breath to get caught in my throat as my head snapped over towards Matt, who continued to stand toe to toe with Tyler. I nearly stumbled when my heart dropped to my stomach while I awaited Matt’s answer.

There had been a crowd gathering and when I took sight of Noah’s face as he stepped down from the bus, I knew that whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good.

Shit.

“Faye is a coworker of mine. I saw she was uncomfortable because of you so I stepped in. That’s all,” Matt shrugged.

I swallowed the burn of tears as I cast my head down at the camera in my hands. There were plans tonight to live stream Bad Omens concert and since it was a special occasion, I brought out my special camera for this; my fathers old one.

Tyler’s next words made the air shift around us as I glanced up in time to see Matt’s jaw tick.

“Damn, her pussy is that bad, huh?”

Everything happened all too quickly, almost like a blur of shouted curses and flying fists. Noah and Bryan stepped forward as Matt shoved Tyler causing me to stumble over my feet, dropping my camera to the concrete with me. I landed on my ass, scrapping my palms as I threw my hands down to support my fall.

Matt’s fist landed on Tyler’s jaw right before Jolly yanked him away but that didn’t stop him from yelling at Tyler.

“I didn’t start this but I damn sure finished it, fucker!” He bellowed.

Jolly gave Matt his own shove before running a hand through his hair. “Fucking stop! Look what you did!”

Following Jolly’s finger, Matt gasped when he saw me lying on the ground, holding a broken camera in my bloody and shaking hands. Bryan was kneeling next to me, slowly helping me to my feet as the tears I fought so hard to keep back began flowing down my cheeks. My fathers old camera sat in crumbled pieces within my hands, irreplaceable and unfixable.

“Fairy,” Matt’s voice was soft as he reached for me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I seethed while yanking my arm away from him. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think of me.”

“Faye,” his voice was louder now as he called after me, watching me scurry into the bus to hide from all those pitiful gazes that lingered.

BRYAN

With a frown, I watched as Faye nearly stumbled up into the bus due to the tears clouding her eyes and I swiftly turned on my feet towards Matt, who was being held back from Tyler by Noah and Jolly. Both of the Nicks were trying to deescalate the situation with the promoter of the venue that was threatening to cancel the show tonight due to the unnecessary violence. Everything had become so fucked in a matter of seconds with Tyler’s words and now, the anger Matt felt for the situation was directed back onto him.

“Dude, stop!” I snapped while stepping between Matt and Tyler but keeping my eyes directly on the former. “Did you not realize what you just did?”

Matt’s jaw was rigid with his anger but he eventually looked my way.

“You two caused Faye to fall down to the fucking ground. Her hands are cut up pretty good but that doesn't matter because something that’s irreplaceable broke. All because of you two fucking idiots.”

I wasn’t the one to curse this much but the second I saw the camera fall to the ground, immediately I felt the pain that stabbed Faye in the chest.

Matt opened his mouth to protest but I held up a hand to stop him. “You claim you need to be the manager, well fucking act like it. You created a scene, fix it!”

Not bothering to stick around for a rebuttal, I ran over to the bus and bounded up the steps just in time to see Faye dotting her blotchy cheeks with a tissue.

“Faye?” I said quietly. “Do you need anything?”

She choked on a sob while forcing a shaking hand towards the mess of broken camera pieces on the table.

“I need my fathers camera back! Do you know how old it is? What I had to do to make sure it was usable? Everything, all the pictures and memories gone because of-of,” she choked on another sob so I pulled her into my embrace.

“I know,” I hushed her with a soothing circle against her back. “Matt never meant for it to go that far. He feels like shit, although he might not show it right now. But he cares.”

“Right,” she scoffed while pulling from my embrace. “He has a funny way of showing it.”

I gave her a small smile. “Matt is closed off with a lot of people which makes them get the wrong impression of him. But with the people he cares about, he’d protect them. Which is what he was trying to do with Tyler but I think his feelings for you blinded him on what was the correct way to approach that.”

Faye stayed silent for a moment, letting my words digest, before she gave a small nod. I knew it wouldn’t change the issues plaguing them. That was something they needed to work out themselves but even if my words helped a bit, that’s all I could do.

“Come on,” I motioned towards the broken camera. “Let’s see what we can do.”

MATT

My soul was calling out into the void, searching for the connection it once had and desperate to have it again. It felt like everything had been drained from me the last couple of days no matter how hard I tried to fix things. I spent countless hours looking for that specific camera to replace it for Faye. I knew it wouldn’t replace the sentimental value and all the memories it held but maybe it could ease the pain that swam in her heart.

The fight with Tyler happened days ago and after we both apologized to Faye, she seemed to slip into herself. That usual brightness of her soul dimmed as she went about working, never once interacting with any of us. We had four days left of tour and she mentioned to Bryan in passing that she couldn’t wait for the last day because that meant new opportunities.

With Hollow Souls.

Y/N had reached out to assure Faye that they hired her because of her resume not because we all knew each other. That seemed to ease away some of her worries and I could tell she was excited to start working for them.

But my heart and soul weren’t ready to let her go quite yet.

After closing down the sound deck, another successful show in the books, I racked my brain with ideas on how to make things up to Faye when an airy giggle reached my ears.

“We should definitely meet up once the tour ends,” Faye smiled warmly at Greg, the drum tech for Before We Fall. “It will be good for us.”

Greg agreed with a side hug, wrapping his arms around Faye. “I’ll text you once things slow down and we can meet up.”

“Can’t wait!” She beamed that smile I found myself falling deeper and deeper for.

When Greg and Faye went their separate ways, the familiar jealousy rage I felt when I saw her talking with Tyler festered inside of me, spreading through my veins, yet this time I took a different approach than violence. I followed on Faye’s heels as she exited the venue and ascended up the dark bus. Everyone else was still inside helping with the tear down.

“Faye,” I breathed her name, causing her to turn swiftly on her heels.

In the lowlight of the lamp posts outside that casted into the bus, she looked mythological. Her white sundress shimmered and the waves of her teal hair cascaded down her back. The last few days I’ve spent any alone time I could find locked in the bathroom with my hand wrapped around my cock, the image of her on top of me playing like a loop in my brain.

My little fairy.

“Did you need something, Mathew?” She asked with a business-like edge to her voice.

The vision of her in that light with her hands perched on her hips while she cocked one out, full of attitude, made my cock twitch and not bother to think of the repercussions, I pressed her up against the door of the bathroom.

“What are you-?”

I captured her lips in a kiss that was fueled by so much fervor, it made my head spin. It was only our second kiss but just like the first, our souls danced together in perfect harmony when the magnetic pull between us vibrated. Faye’s body went stiff in my embrace but soon with a rush of air, her hands sneaked up underneath my shirt to scratch at the skin of my back undoubtedly leaving half crescent shaped moons as she dug into me.

Her lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. I could feel the velvet tickle of her breath beneath my nose when my fingers threaded through those vibrant strands of hair.

An unfamiliar feeling blossomed in my chest, taking over every part of me, as my tongue left kitten kisses along her bottom lip. She began to pull away from me slightly only for me to yank her back in by my teeth. I wanted to plummet in everything that was Faye, letting her consume all of me every day. I could feel the thunderous beats of our hearts together as I pressed her harder against the door, my cock brushing ever so softly against her clit. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of my shorts, doing whatever she could to pull me closer. It was a mess of a kiss, both of us dry humping against each other to grasp that euphoric high we were craving.

Her palm pressed lightly over my cock causing me to yank on her hair, exposing more of her neck to me. My teeth grazed over the sensitive skin behind her ear and she shivered in my grip when my calloused hands lifted up the bottom of her dress, letting the material bunch up against her stomach.

“My fairy,” I proclaimed into the crook of her neck, a single finger slipping underneath underneath the cotton fabric of her panties.

Almost like magic, there was a wide space between us as she pushed me away, those perky breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her lips were swollen, bruised from the force of our kiss, and I groaned at the sight of a faint red mark on her neck. One that I left.

“This can’t happen!” Faye yelled while adjusting the bottom of her dress. “You’ve made it clear that you’re my boss and this-.”

She pointed between us. “Is unprofessional.”

“Fuck that,” I spat. “I don’t care about that anymore.”

Faye wiped away the spit from her lips and sneered her distaste. “Why? Because you saw me talking with Greg and wanted to stake your claim on something that’s not yours?”

The words spewed from my mouth like vomit.

“Well, it seemed clear to me that you like it when anyone shows you attention. Does it give you a sick thrill? Turn you on?”

Faye blinked slowly while her lips parted. “Excuse me?”

“You were going to go out with that guy!” I threw a hand over my shoulder back towards the venue. “I bet you do get some sort of sick thrill from it. You string me along, fucking with my feelings, and now that I turned you down, you’re doing the same thing to other guys? You’re just like the rest of them, I don’t know why I thought you were different.”

Something glistened in her eyes and the breath she let out sounded so broken. But I was enraged with everything that’s happened the last week, all I saw was red.

“That’s not fair. You don’t know anything,” she shook her head.

“I don’t need to, Faye. I’ve seen enough and I’m glad I got out from under you when I did,” I roughly brushed past her, nearly turning back when I heard a broken sob fall from her lips.

Keep going. Don’t falter. That’s what she wants.

Thunderous footsteps echoed behind me, slapping against the pavement as we stepped outside. Faye’s bright eyes filled with her own rage stared up at me as she stepped in front of me.

“You think you’re so fucking smart? Greg is dating a friend of mine from back home. We were talking about meeting up all together,” she poked a finger in my chest.

Yet I couldn’t apologize because she shoved another finger in my chest. “You’re an asshole! You think you’re mature because you’re older than me? You’re a manchild who can’t accept someone who cares for you. You’re one of the most self deprecated people I’ve ever met and this act you’ve got going isn’t working.”

Another poke to my chest and this one caused me to stumble slightly.

“You don’t get to push me away, call me unprofessional for something we both did, but then try to crawl your way back to me after what you did! Your jealousy broke something that I cannot replace. I’ll never forgive you for that.”

I grasped her wrist when she went to poke my chest again and held it flush against me. “I’m sorry.”

Her face flinched, not expecting my apology, yet she continued on with her wrath.

“Sorry doesn’t fix things! We have four days left of this tour, let's just ignore each other like we have been and we can finally forget everything that happened the second we part ways,” Faye ripped her hand from mine and stomped back towards the bus.

I stood there in the middle of the alley behind the venue, trying to gather my bearings from our argument. Like everything with Faye, our shared moments together were a whirlwind and I never knew what to focus on first.

The way her body molded into mine when we kissed.

How pretty her moans sounded when I pressed my cock against her.

How wet she was when I brushed my finger along her folds.

How kissed fucked she looked after breaking us apart.

Or the way her fury vibrated off of her when she poked those pretty nails into my chest.

Once again, I let the negativity of what could possibly be something so good for me ruin it before it had the chance to begin. Faye was all encompassing, she was what my soul had been missing since creation. It scoured the earth for hers and now that it was in my grasp, I refused to let her go.

NOAH

I’d been leaning against the old brick of the venue, getting ready to facetime Y/N when heated voices made me pocket my phone in time to see Faye storm after Matt, poking her finger in his chest. When Matt dragged his feet back to the bus in clear defeat, I knew that I needed to do something to fix whatever was broken between them.

“Mochi!” Y/N’s bright smile greeted me when she answered my facetime call. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, angel,” I slowly paced the alley.

“What’s going on? Why are you outside?” She asked while cuddling her couch pillow closer to her chest.

I could see the luminescence of the television casting a glow of colors against the wall behind her. She’d been watching a movie when I called, the words echoing through my phone.

"People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead."

“Are you watching The Crow again?” I teased with a playful smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes before telling Jesse to pause the movie which made my brows pull together. “Wait, are you at my house?”

“Yeah. Jesse texted me earlier asking if I could come hang out. I guess Maxxine stood him up. Again,” she sighed.

“I never liked her,” I grumbled with agitation.

“She was my friend! How do you think I feel?” But then Y/N shifted on the couch. “Do you care that I’m here without you?”

“Not at all, angel. You know you’re always welcome there even if I’m not. I’m glad you’re there for Jesse.”

Just then a head full of curls appeared on the screen. “She’s making me watch this movie. I had no choice in the matter.”

“It’s a great fucking movie,” she ruffled his curls before playfully pushing him away. “Why the sour face, Mochi?”

Sighing I sat on the bench in front of the venue now, gazing up at the stars. It was nearing midnight and thankfully all the fans from tonight's show had left, leaving me out here alone with my thoughts.

“It’s Matt and Faye. They’re still fighting and all I want to do is help them,” I ran a hand over my tired face.

Something Y/N noticed.

“Noah,” her voice was as soft as her skin. “I know you love your friends and want to help them but sometimes, they need to be the ones to do it.”

I shrugged while playing with the string of my joggers with my free hand. “Maybe I can do something that pushes them in the right direction. Force them in a locked closet at the next venue to talk it out.”

Y/N snorted her laughter. “That never works. But I know what will work.”

With a pulled brow, I listened intently to her plan as she told me what I needed to do.

“You’re sure this will work?” I asked while slowly walking towards the bus, exhaustion digging its claws into me.

“Everyone loves a good “there was only one bed” trope. It’ll work,” she assured me with that smile I missed so much.

“I can’t believe I’ll see you in two days, angel,” I said with a bit more excitement in my voice than before.

Y/N cuddled the pillow closer to her chest. “I’m counting down the hours, mochi.”

FAYE

After leaving Noah in the hotel lobby while he waited for Y/N to arrive, I spun the keycard to my room between my fingers, ready for a full night's sleep in an actual bed. We arrived at the final stop on the tour and with tomorrow night being the last show, we were staying in a hotel for the next couple of nights.

72 hours.

That’s how long it had been since Matt and I spoken to each other. Since our blow up argument a few nights ago, I had chosen to sleep on the couch in the back room of the bus, not wanting to be anywhere near him. Even though my heart was hurting with the space between us. Ultimately I knew I needed this space from him because in two nights, I’d be flying back home alone and forgetting everything that happened.

Well, trying to anyway.

With an yawn, I slipped the keycard into the slot of the door, the light flashing green. I took all of two steps inside before coming to a sudden halt at the sight before me. Two suitcases opened and scattered throughout and a long body stretched out wide on the bed in the room.

The only bed in the room.

Matt removed the pillow from his face to see me standing in the doorway, clutching the handle of my suitcase with white knuckles and he rolled his eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled while sitting up in bed.

“What are you doing in my room?” I demanded.

Matt scoffed. “Your room? I’ve been here for the last hour. You’re the one in my room.”

Neither of us broke eye contact, not wanting to lose, and I motioned to the keycard on the table next to him.

“Who gave you your card?”

“Noah,” he answered.

Son of a bitch.

“He set this up,” I muttered before turning on my heels, ready to march back down to the lobby to ask for another room when Matt’s voice made me freeze.

“The hotel is booked. There’s no other rooms available.”

I threw my head back with an audible groan before slamming the door shut and forcing my suitcase into the closet of the room. I would have been fine with this rooming situation if there had been a couch but besides the bed, the only other place to sleep was an old, worn out chair in the corner of the room.

It was almost nine in the evening and after the long day of travel, the only thing I wanted to do was shower and go to sleep. Noah mentioned plans about possibly going out for some food but the moment I saw Matt lounging on my bed, I wanted to take the pillow and suffocate him; mingling with others be damned.

I didn’t even make it more than a single step towards the bathroom before my head snapped over to Matt when he spoke again.

“I took all the hot water. Might want to wait a bit.”

It was then that I noticed he was shirtless in bed, wet strands of hair clinging to his chest; clearly fresh out of the shower. His shorts hung low on his hips and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the light colored happy trail underneath his belly button. This was the first time I’d seen him shirtless and I felt all the heat rush to between my legs.

Focus!

“I’m sure you can bunk with Bryan or Nicholas. Although, they talk a lot and I know how much that irritates you,” Matt winked while propping an arm behind his head.

“I fucking hate you,” I seethed before stomping over to the bed and ripping the part of the covers he wasn’t laying on back so I could slide into bed.

Matt continued to wear that smug smile which made me glare at him. “What the fuck are you so smug about? Happy that I’m miserable and stuck in this room with you?”

“You’re so upset that you didn’t even realize you got into bed still wearing your shoes and jeans.”

Grumbling every name under the sun at him, I scrambled out of bed to kick off my shoes and nearly ripped the skinny jeans away from my legs, leaving it a pile on the floor. I now stood in front of Matt in nothing but an oversized band tee that I hadn’t been wearing a bra under. It’s what I usually go to sleep in anyway. It reached about mid thigh now that my jeans were off.

“Is this better, Matthew?”

Those dark eyes trailed up my long legs, lingering on the swell of my ass before he nodded.

“I’d be fine if you came to bed with nothing,” he shrugged.

I squealed before wrenching a pillow off the bed and smacking him in the head with it.

Not one.

Not two times.

But four times.

Matt finally realized he’d been under attack so his arms reached out to wrap around my hips, dragging me to the bed with him. It was a fight for who would end up on top as I tried to continue with my onslaught of pillow attacks but his strength won in the end. Throwing the pillow across the room, he managed to pin me to the bed with his hips and used one large hand to pin both of mine above my head.

His hair was a mess covering his face as those dark eyes stared daggers into me but I raised my chin up at him in defiance.

“Are you finished with your tantrum?” His chest rumbled.

“Fuck off!” I shot back while wiggling underneath him.

My shirt had ridden up in our fight, resting just below my breasts and my bright yellow thong was on full display for Matt to drink in. But his eyes continued to rest on my face.

More so, my lips.

My pussy kept pressing against his clear erection causing him to bite back a moan and tighten his grip on my hands.

“Stop it,” he bit out through gritted teeth.

I didn’t.

In fact, I pressed myself up closer to him, rubbing my clit against his cock. “Stop what? This? I thought you wanted this?”

The teasing tone of my voice was thick which only angered Matt even more.

“You look pathetic, trying so hard not to-.”

My words were cut off by his mouth devouring mine in such a heated kiss, it nearly rendered me useless. I lay under him, motionless for a moment, as his mouth moved against mine. The feeling of his tongue against mine made me moan into his mouth, trying to get more of him; desperate for it.

“YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE!” I kneed him in the gut once I realized what was going on and he fell to the other side of the bed, clutching his side.

“REALLY? LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU LOVED IT WHEN MY LIPS WERE ON YOURS!” He shot back before reaching for me again, crashing our lips together.

This had been weeks worth of build up, the sexual tension between us a tight rubber band ready to snap with any added extra weight. My brain kept screaming at me to push him off and smack him for what he did to me, breaking my fathers camera.

Yet my soul was thriving. It never felt more alive knowing that Matt was once again staking his claim with his lips, nipping and sucking at the sensitive parts of my body; down my neck and over my collar bone after he yanked down the collar of my shirt.

Calloused fingers brushed along the thin elastic of my panties, teasing me with his silent question.

“Take them off,” I demand against his lips, raising my hips off the bed.

Our clothes gathered together in a heap on the floor and while I lay bare for Matt’s hungry eyes, he remained kneeling on the bed. His cock was red with agitation, desperate for not only some sort of contact but release as well.

“You’re beautiful, Fairy,” Matt mused while kissing from my navel, up between the valley of my breasts, and left small indentations with his teeth against my neck.

I left angry red marks down the length of his spine while spreading my legs for him. His fingers gathered my wetness between my folds, pressing small circles against my clit and I sucked in a breath.

“Already so wet for me? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he chuckled darkly before nipping at my bottom lip.

I was not about to give Matt the satisfaction in knowing our little play fighting and making out turned me on beyond measure. My body was already on the brink of collapse from our weeks of constant teasing and bickering. I reveled in the way Matt came off rude and brooding, sometimes to me, but also found myself loving how caring and thoughtful he’d been in the beginning.

A finger slipped inside of me and I arched myself off the bed, my breasts brushing against Matt’s chest.

“You like that?” He cocked his head to the side. “Use your words, fairy. I need to hear what you want.”

I sunk my nails into his arm, trying to bring him closer. “You, Matthew. Please. I just want you.”

Begging? Really? There goes your dignity.

I didn’t have time to chastise the voice in my mind because Matt let out a growl before rolling me to my stomach and hiking my ass up in the air. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the small hotel room and a breathy moan fell from my lips.

Matt cursed before leaning over the bed to reach for his suitcase.

“What are you doing?” I almost whined.

“Condom,” he muttered while rifling through his bag. “Shit! Of course the one time I don’t pack fucking condoms.”

I saw his eyes flick up to the wall in front of me, most likely to the room next door, and knew he was contemplating asking whoever was rooming next to us for a condom.

“I have an implant,” I finally said while looking over my shoulder. “And I’m clean.”

Those eyes shimmered as they rested on my face. “So am I.”

With his cock gripped tight in his hand, Matt lined up at my entrance before slowly pushing himself inside. My head went to fall to the pillows but his hand gathered the teal strands in his palm, yanking my head up.

“Oh, god,” I moaned when he was fully inside.

I’d never felt so full before.

My walls clenched around him, a silent beg for him to move, but Matt remained still. His chest constricted with the breath he’d been holding so I slowly started fucking myself on his cock.

“Matthew,” I panted. “Please, I need you to move.”

With one tight grip on my hair and the other on my hip, he let out a strangled breath finally.

“I won’t last long, fairy. I don’t-.”

You assured him with a gentle smile. “I won't either. I’m already so close.”

Knowing that I wouldn’t last long either, Matt let go of the grip on my hair to slide over to my clit, pressing fast circles against the swollen bundle of nerves. His pace was ruthless, fucking in and out of me with such force, the headboard began slamming against the wall.

I was dizzy with my arousal, it clouding my judgment because I knew that this was only going to be a quick fuck and then we’d go back to bickering. Not accepting what both of us wanted. We could try to ignore how we felt about one another but there was no way I could ignore how perfect he felt inside of me. It was as if we clicked together like a perfect puzzle piece.

Cliche. But it was true.

Matt’s broad chest pressed against my back so he could drag his teeth against my spine. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck.”

All I could do was nod, too blissed out on the way his fingers danced against my clit. My orgasm was so close, teetering on the edge of the cliff, and my body stilled for a moment as I tried to grasp that release.

“No!”

I whined when Matt pulled all the way out of me only for him to throw me onto my back and wrap a leg around his back, slipping back inside of me.

“I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” he grunted while thrusting inside of me.

I dared a peak down to where I bodies connected as he pulled himself almost all the way out and choked on a moan when I saw his cock glisten in the low light of the room because of our shared arousal.

“Look at me, Faye.”

My eyes snapped up to his, blown wide with his euphoria and with one final snap of his hips, I cried out my orgasm; eyes never leaving his.

I writhed underneath him but his fingers never stopped their onslaught on my clit, working me through the violent aftershocks. Matt threw his head back in a silent scream as his cock throbbed inside of me seconds before spilling his release.

His body fell to the bed next to me in a gruff of exhaustion and I lay there for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling; tracing the patterns of the cracks instead of the realization that I should get up to clean myself so I can find someone else to bunk with.

As I began to slip out from underneath Matt, he threw his tattooed leg over my hips, blocking me from leaving the bed.

“Where are you going?” He asked, pulling my back to his chest.

Our skin was sticky with sweat and I felt our cum between my legs but with his grip on me, it was clear Matt didn’t want me to leave.

“I just thought-,” I pointed to the door.

He buried his face in my neck, leaving a tender kiss. “I’m not letting you go, Faye. This was never a quick fuck for me. I think this was weeks worth of pent up sexual frustration that turned into something we both wanted; even if we weren’t ready to admit it.”

I traced over the tattoos on his arm as it lay lazily over my stomach.

“Sounds like you’ve got a great therapist,” I hummed.

Matt snorted. “More like a philosopher of a friend.”

We lay together in a mess of tangled limbs for a long moment, basking in the silence. Matt’s breathing became slow and steady, indicating he was seconds away from falling into a deep slumber, one I was desperate to chase. But I couldn’t stop the nagging thought in my mind.

“So what does this mean for us?” I forced myself to ask.

“This is a really shitty way of asking you out considering I broke your camera. But what do you say we go out on an official date once we're back home and settled?”

I linked my fingers with Matt’s, bringing his hand to my lips to leave a tender kiss across his knuckles. “I’d love that.”

The tight grip that had been crushing my heart and soul since we started fighting suddenly evaporated into nothing. All I could feel was growing adoration for the man behind me.

Deep sleep was seconds away from clutching both of us to drag us into the dark depths but before I could succumb, my tired voice called out into the vastness of the room.

“You owe me a camera, by the way.”

Matt chuckled while laying a kiss to the side of my head. “Already taken care of, fairy.”

FAYE

“So, how’re things going with Jesse and Tay?” I called over to Matt, who stood in the kitchen in front of his stove.

“Good!” He called back. “Although, I’m sure you already knew that since she’s your friend.”

I shrugged, knowing he was right, but then gave him a smile of thanks when he returned into the living room with my cup of tea.

“We were talking about getting together for a double date this weekend,” I said.

Matt pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before settling back into the couch next to me. “Whatever you want, fairy.”

We’d been home for a few weeks now from tour and found ourselves settling in pretty quickly to this new relationship. Our first official date was the aquarium with everyone else but I didn’t mind it. I got to know Hollow Souls more and working for them had been an absolute dream.

I was able to photograph Chase and Malcolms wedding. With the exact make and model of camera that mirrored the one my dad gave me. While it wasn't the exact one, I knew Matt had scoured the internet for days trying to find one so I was extremely grateful for it.

We’d spent the entire day on Matt’s couch cuddled together under a pile of blankets, more specifically his Greys Anatomy blanket, with all three of his dogs either laying on top of us or next to us. The television had been on a constant rerun of Grey's Anatomy, him finally talking me into watching it with him. My fingers played with the ends of his hair, him opting out on wearing a hat today. I’d been wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of boyshort panites. It had been a pretty hot day in California so Matt decided on wearing just a pair of joggers. We would have been three episodes ahead in our marathon if we hadn’t continuously paused it for our extra activities.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. How is Y/N’s and Noah’s redo date going?” I set my empty cup down on the table in front of me.

Matt snickered while reaching for his phone. “I haven’t heard anything yet. I’m starting to wonder if he backed out on asking-.”

His voice trailed off as his eyes never left the bright screen of his phone. The words on the current text thread he had open drained all the color from his face.

“Matthew,” I said tentatively, sitting up on the couch and running a hand over his back. “What is it?”

He swallowed thickly before running a hand over his face and those broken eyes found mine. “Y/N’s dad died. Her and Noah are flying to Japan tomorrow night.”

#matt dierkes #matt dierkes x ofc #matt dierkes fanfiction #matt dierkes fic #bad omens #just pretend noah sebastian #bad omens cult

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gffa · 8 months

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Usually, I like to finish reading a fic before recommending it properly, but I've been sucked into about five different STAR WARS fics recently that I've gotten far enough into that I'm willing to trust my heart to them because they're scratching a very specific itch for me--namely, that I want deeper explorations of both the Jedi Order and of Anakin's character. I want fic to punch me in the feelings over both of these aspects of the story. I want fic to sometimes set Obi-Wan and Anakin aside and focus on Ahsoka for awhile, really tell her story. I want Jedi themes woven into a story. I want an exploration of Anakin's mindset that reminds me of just how much I love him and have sympathy for him. And fandom has delivered for me.

DO YOU WANT FIC TO BLACK OUT TO AND LOSE AN ENTIRE WEEKEND OVER? HAVE I GOT SOME RECS FOR YOU:

✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. This fic accomplishes several things that have sent me over the moon: 1) At its heart, it's an Ahsoka fic that shows her growing up as a Padawan, going on missions, learning lessons, and having character growth. 2) It weaves in so many other characters around her, that Mace is there in almost every chapter, serious but warm in the Force, just as beautifully characterized as she is. 3) The other Jedi get their moments of excellents, Shaak taking Ahsoka on her Akul hunt was wonder to read, seeing Obi-Wan show up for a chapter had me over the moon, Adi taking care with Ahsoka was lovely, Depa was a shining star when she took Ahsoka under her wing, Fox growing used to these strange Jedi and growing into himself through Ahsoka's eyes was wonderful. 4) The writing is that kind of solid that I don't mean as mid-tier, but the kind that I feel like can bear weight on it, I can pick it up and read for 30k and barely realize any time has passed, despite that I've gotten through an entire arc of the fic. 5) It does an incredible job of balancing that feel of The Clone Wars show, without directly copying anything, that it's like these are arcs that I could have seen on the show itself, the lessons woven in, but still with enough plot moving forward and action to make it exciting. If you want more Jedi-centric fic in your life (where they don't have to be perfect! sometimes they can be less than perfect and it's okay because they're still good! ohhhh, my heart warmed at that) or you want to read a lovely Ahsoka-centric fic in a different life, but still so recognizably herself, then this is one I want to shove right in your face immediately.

✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 116.k wip Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right? I got sucked into the first fic in this series (which is complete, if you want to read it--it's not the end of the story, but it's a good stopping point and feels like it should have some solid resolution if you don't want to get into a wip) and read the first fic over the course of about three days because I was sucked in so thoroughly. I can never get enough of Obi-Wan time traveling back to the past, where he loves the Jedi and they love him, and I love this one because he has to make genuine plans for changing things--things change and I have no idea how that's going to affect Palpatine's machinations! Exciting! But it's also a lovely look at Obi-Wan's dynamics with multiple characters--I found the Obi-Wan & Padme scenes a hightlight personally, their friendship really blossomed as they both flung themselves into trying to better the galaxy, even if she doesn't know he's from the future, that he's working so hard matched a lot of her energy and I really enjoyed that--from Qui-Gon to Mace to Padme to Anakin and, as the sequel progresses, Dooku as well. It's another Jedi-positive fic, it has me invested in the plot, it's a joy to see competent!Obi-Wan, and I would love to shove it at more people.

✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin, 46k (wip-esque) After a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along. This is probably the shortest fic on this list but I'm including it because it genuinely felt longer than that, for how dense the emotional intensity of it is. It's an AU where the Jedi barely eked out a victory, still on the edge of extinction in many ways, and Anakin deep in the pits of the dark side, so Obi-Wan takes him to a backwater planet in exile for the both of them, traveling through the countryside and just trying to make it from day to day. What punched me right in the feelings place is that this fic doesn't shy away from the hurt and the anger on both sides, that both of them are allowed to be unreliable narrators that have their own points of view on what's transpired and what lays between them. It doesn't back away from the hurt they both feel, the despair they both feel, yet there's hope here. It's ultimately a story about clawing yourself back from the dark side, and it's beautifully characterized for both of them, that unkind things are said on both of their parts, but you understand why the characters are in the place they are. It's wrapped up in a lushly written backdrop, with some lovely Japanese feudal era details woven in, but also with a Star Wars patina spread across all of it. It's not necessarily a kind fic, but if you like fic that bites down on a wound, I enjoyed this series a lot and would love to see it continued--but, honestly, what's here is already enough resolution that, looking back on it after the initial "Noooooo, I need more!" feeling has faded, I'm actually very satisfied with. ✦ Men of Power by AlabasterInk, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & jedi & palpatine & cast, 86.1k wip When an old powerful man suddenly comes in and sweeps your underage Padawan away without so much as a by your leave, that’s the time to start asking questions. I'm only about 20k into this fic, so I can't say what shape it will take later on or how much pairings might come into it, but I still had to come running over to shove this fic at people, because it's scratching the itch I have for Jedi-positive fic that explores the idea of Anakin's trauma from his childhood as a slave, that this is a child who is wound so tight and comes from such a horrible thing having been done to him, having been owned as a person, that I understand why he stays silent on some of the things I desperately wish he could talk about or he doesn't really believe some of the things the Jedi tell him. It's a fic that takes a lot more care with Anakin's character than I think canon ever intended, weaving in a lot of the heartbreaking stuff from Legends' supplementing the canon, and is creating something that punches me right in the feelings place for him, that he's such a bright, brilliant boy, but I see why he struggled and it's not about assigning blame in any direction. It's about deeply caring people who fate has take a few steps to the left and something shifts just a little--and I appreciate that there's something very delicate feeling here, that the Jedi just don't have any real reason to be suspicious of Palpatine, his actions make sense, they genuinely can't feel any ill intention from him in the Force, they discuss why it would make sense that he'd want to support Anakin, all while we the readers can see, in hindsight, where the shadows have been creeping in. If you want Jedi-positive fic that also leaves some teeth marks over Anakin's trauma being explored in a way that is entirely sympathetic to him, then I want to shove this fic at you, too.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #mace windu #yoda #ahsoka tano #jedi order #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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writingquestionsanswered · 7 months

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Struggling with Setting and Plot

[Ask edited for length]

enzoid23 asked: I can easily make characters/relationships but the setting and plot are difficult for me. I like stories where characters are stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it or find a way to escape, which is a basic concept, but I can't figure out how to do it. I'm trying my to avoid copying other stories but I'm not sure where to draw the line between that and inspiration either. There's too many gaps, such as the how and the where and how many characters. I keep throwing in as much stuff as i can whether it fits or not, like a Mary Sue, but it's plot instead of a character.

First, since you asked about copying vs inspiration, start by reading these posts:

Taking Inspiration from Another Story’s Premise Similarities vs Plagiarism Plagiarism vs Reference vs Inspiration Hopefully that will help you get comfortable with borrowing ideas from other sources but making them into something new and unique to you.

Next, being able to come up with characters is great, but unless those characters are rooted in a particular setting or situation, it doesn't help much with world building and plot. And while some writers can find a plot within a setting, I think for most writers its easier to start with the plot, and once you have the beginnings of a premise, it's not too hard to expand a plot from there. As luck would have it, you already have the beginnings of a premise:

People get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it or find a way to escape.

Now we can look at that and start asking questions. Perhaps the easiest question to start with is "do they learn to accept it, or do they find a way to escape?" Which one? Because those are two very different goals. Choosing one and eliminating the other tightens up your premise:

People get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it.

All right... I think the next logical question is who gets stuck together in a place? Is it two people? Three people? Five people? Twenty-six people? One-hundred people? You don't even have to figure out the exact number right now, but just knowing whether this story is about two people, a few people, a small group of people, a bigger group of people, or a huge group of people is going to really narrow things down.

A small group of people get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it.

Okay... where do they get stuck and how? Let's brainstorm... are these modern day boaters, or a misfit bunch of 18th century buccaneers, who become castaways on a remote island? Are they a group of students whose project gets them sucked into another dimension? Are they far-future astronauts who get stranded on an isolated planet? Keep going...

A small group of students get sucked into another dimension and stranded when their science project goes wrong.

Ahoy, there! A PREMISE!!!

Now you can start brainstorming the specific details... who are these students? Middle school/equivalent? High school/equivalent? University? Graduate school? Where and when is their school located? 1926 Chicago? 1980s London? 2077 Kinshasa? 1926 Shanghai?

A small group of middle school students in 1980's London get sucked into another dimension and stranded when their science project goes wrong.

Time to start world building and brainstorming this alternate dimension. Is it going to be an alternate version of our dimension? Will it be a dimension that's similar to a past time/place on Earth? Will this dimension be like a futuristic city? Will it be something fantastical like a place that feels like an alien city, or like Blade Runner meets Ready Player One? Are there other people in this dimension? Or is this group completely on their own?

Now you can start to think about a conflict... what is the problem that must be resolved by the end of the story? Is it simply a matter of figuring out how to survive in this new place? Are they immediately captured by some faction or army or group, and they must escape, or convince someone that they're not dangerous, or win their freedom somehow? What is the specific goal they work toward in order to reach this resolution? What steps must they achieve? Who or what places obstacles in their path, and what obstacles?

Once you know all of this, you can figure out the nitty-gritty details like how many characters, who each one is specifically, and what their role in the story will be. You can look at various structure templates (like Save the Cat! Writes a Novel, Larry Brooks Story Structure, Dramatica, etc.) for guidance... just don't feel like you have to stick to it exactly. You can also read through posts on my Plot & Story Structure master list for more help with plotting.

I hope this post gets you over the hump, though! ♥

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leossmoonn · 10 months

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five nights with mike (2) | mike schmidt

read part one

summary - a romance develops between you and mike at freddy’s

warnings / includes - reader is fem. established feelings. natural time skips. very loosely follows the plot of the movie but i didn’t want to watch it again for this lol. eventual smut - piv, oral f receiving, brief handjob

————

18+ under the cut

“thank you so much for picking me up. you might have to tomorrow, too.”

mike glances at you, giving you a small smile. “it’s no problem.”

you buckle yourself in and set your purse between your legs on the ground. “how is abby?”

“great. she asks about you all the time,” mike chuckles. “oh,” you sigh, putting your hand on your chest. “she’s adorable. maybe sometime we can eat lunch or something together.”

his heart spikes and he nods enthusiastically. “that-that would be awesome. yeah and, uh, i can pay this time. i can even make it, too.”

“mike schmidt cooks, huh?” you grin at him. “i only know how to make a few things, but i like cooking in general. just give me a recipe and i’ll try my best,” he says.

“mmm. well, i love a man who can cook,” you remark, looking out the window. heat creeps up mike’s neck and reaches his ears. “just let me know what kind of food you like, and i’ll make it. i’m not a trained chef or anything, though, so if it’s bad then i don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

“i bet you’re better than me. i personally like baking better,” you say.

“baking is cool, but it takes too long and i’m an impatient person.”

“well, how about you cook and i’ll bring the dessert.”

“oh, you don’t have to do that,” mike shakes his head. “you’re already so busy with work.”

“it’s no trouble. i’ve stated to get later shifts at my day job. it means i work later, but more time to sleep and some more time reserved for things like baking.”

“that’s great to hear. do you feel like you sleep better now?”

“no,” you snort. “if anything, i feel worse, but that’s just my brain. i can tell my body appreciates it.”

mike hums in response. “tonight you can sleep the majority of the shift if you’d like.”

“and leave you all alone? no. after what happened to abby, i’m kind of scared to sleep there.”

mike rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “don’t let abby scare you. she has lots of imaginary friends even before i took her there, which won’t be happening again.”

“right,” you sigh. “it’s just that i swore i heard other voices. like a man’s voice.”

mike feels the hairs raise up on his arms even under his jacket. “maybe tonight we can scope it out.”

“sure. hopefully we don’t die. imagine those fur things coming to life and murdering us,” you shiver in thought.

mike chuckles, “that would be wild.”

mike parks his car at the pizzeria. you grab your purse and lead the way in. as you step inside, there’s a cracking sound. you look under your shoe, seeing a bunch of glass on the floor.

“holy shit,” you gasp. you look at the diner, seeing it totally trashed.

“fuck, um. yeah, steve mentioned this to me earlier. i-i must’ve forgot,” mike says sheepishly. he really did forget. he must’ve been so clouded by his excitement to see you, he scraped his conversation with steve completely.

“it’s okay. it’s not like you warning me would’ve changed what happened.” you can’t believe your eyes. it seems like every table in the diner is flipped over or broken. glass litters the floor and you’re thankful you chose to wear sneakers tonight and not slippers like you have been. “what did happen?” you turn to mike.

“i guess a bunch of people came in here after we left and trashed it. i’m not sure why. i swore we locked all the doors.”

“yeah, i thought we did, too. we wanted to get abby out of here fast, though, so we could’ve missed something.”

“yeah, that’s what i was thinking, too,” mike sighs. “i guess you really won’t be getting any rest tonight.”

“it’s alright,” you shrug. “i just don’t know if we’ll be able to get the diner back to its original state.”

“it’s not like anybody but us comes here,” mike jokes. you smile and nod, “right.” you set your purse down on one of the booth tables that isn’t destroyed. “let’s get to it.”

mike and you spend most of the night cleaning. you were shocked to find even more mess in the hallway and kitchen areas. everything was going smoothly until you find what you think is blood splattered all over the storage room window.

“mike?” you call out. there’s no answer and a pang of worry hits your chest. “mike?” you shout louder.

“coming!” you hear him. fast footsteps echo in the hallway and you can’t help but feel creeped out. you always thought this place was weird and dinky. you only accepted the job because you found out another person was working, and while you feel very save with mike, you just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something seriously wrong with this place.

“what’s up?” mike asks. you point to the window and his eyes widen. “oh,” he says. “um, maybe that’s the blood of the person destroying the place?”

“maybe. but it’s from the inside.”

“yeah,” mike gulps. “we can tell steve about it or something. we were hired to babysit this place, not be a clean up crew.”

“right,” you nod. he grabs your hand gently and you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy. “let’s go back to the office. we only have a couple more hours here. we can relax from cleaning then just be done.”

you smile in agreement, letting him lead you out of the hallway. soon your mind wanders away from the eerie feelings. you talk about everything and nothing. you laugh at every terrible joke he makes. he listens intently to stories about your family. with each minute, it seems like you two get closer — both emotionally and physically. by the end of the shift, you’re sitting knee-to-knee. your foot is brushing up against his jeans, feeling the muscle of his calf. both of your hands are rested on the desk and his fingers routinely brush up against yours. soon, they’re basically intertwined. you don’t know how they got there, but you’re not complaining.

“looks like we made it without dying,” mike says. you grin, “until tomorrow.”

“shall i take you home, then?” he asks. your face falls and he catches it, but you’re quick to mask it. “yeah, sure.” the disappointment seeps into you, but you know you’ll see him again soon. you just wish you could have more time with him.

you both walk out, triple checking that everything is shut and locked. the car ride home is silent, but it’s comfortable. you glance at mike every so often, admiring him from the passenger seat. his hair is tousled from running his hands in it. his eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on driving, his eyes moving every so often as he watches the road. your eyes trial down the shape of his nose, noticing the tiniest bump towards the top.

dread fills you as he pulls into your driveway. you purse your lips as you try to think of what will allow you to spend more time with him.

“what’re your plans for today?” you ask. “nothing much. abby’s with a babysitter right now. thankfully, it’s the weekend so i don’t have to rush to take her to school,” he answers.

“ah,” you hum. he looks to you, seeing your face in deep concentration as you stare at your lap. “what about you? you work later today, right?”

“yep. at 2,” you say. he glances at the dashboard clock that reads 6:30 am. “you have a while then. are you tired?” he asks.

“not really. honestly, staying up all night kind of gave me a boost of energy.”

“me, too,” he nods. you can’t help but sigh. there’s no good reason for him to come inside or even for you to go back to his house. you figure you just have to wait until tonight.

“thank you again for driving me. are you able to pick me up later?” you ask.

“of course,” he nods. you smile, “great! i really appreciate it.”

“it’s really no problem,” he smiles. you start to get out of the car, but he stops you. “hey, can i, uh, use your bathroom really quickly?”

“yeah,” you nod a little too much. “thank you,” he says, stepping out of his car. you unlock the front door, trying to remember if you left your house a complete mess or not. you’re relieved to see that you did not.

mike looks around your house. it looks identical to his from the outside, but the inside is a whole different story. he wonders if you hired an interior decorator because of how beautiful it looks.

“the bathroom is down the hall to the right,” you say. he turns to look at you, then to the hallway. “thanks,” he says, making his way to the closed door.

you take off your shoes, placing them neatly on the small shoe rack you have by the door. there are some dirty dishes on the coffee table in your living room from your last meal, but you’re sure he doesn’t mind. everyone has dirty dishes laying out from time to time. you take the opportunity to load them in your dishes washer, re-folding some blankets and fluffing up the couch pillows.

you’re sat on your couch when mike comes out.

“are you hungry?” you ask. “no,” he lies. he wants to stay, but he doesn’t want to be a burden to you.

“oh, come on. we haven’t eaten in like, eight hours. at least i haven’t. i have some cinnamon rolls that would love to be baked.”

“would they, though?”

you giggle and stand up. “will your babysitter mind staying a little late?”

“i’ll call her,” mike says. he takes out his phone, dialing his home phone. it takes a moment or two for someone to pick up. “hello?” abby’s voice echos.

“hey, abby. is max there?” he asks. “yes. she just got me breakfast from mcdonald’s,” abby says.

“oh, that’s nice of her. do you mind if i speak to her real quick?”

“okay. max!”

mike quickly pulls the phone away as abby yells into the mic.

“hello?” max says. “hey, max. i, uh, got caught up at the pizzeria. are you able to stay and watch her for an hour or so?” mike asks.

“yeah, of course,” she says quickly. “awesome. i’ll pay you extra, i promise,” mike says.

“it’s okay, mike. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“yep,” he hangs up, waking into the kitchen where you’re setting out the dough.

“ah, these are pre-packaged,” mike remarks. “nobody has time to make cinnamon rolls by scratch,” you say.

“says the person who likes baking. or do you just like fake baking?”

“this is not fake baking!” you exclaim. “i am putting it in the oven and going to put icing over it.”

“whatever you say.” mike leans against your counter, crossing his arms over his chest. you can’t help but notice him flex his biceps.

“i bet you fake cook,” you quip. his brows raise in question. “and what does that entail?”

“you put a foam cup full of ramen and warm it up in the microwave.”

“those are delicious.”

“i mean, yeah, but it’s so hard to put an egg in it and sometimes the noodles aren’t soft enough.”

“well, i usually cook my ramen on the stovetop. so if i ever make you that, you’ll know it’s real cooking.”

you laugh at his joke, your eyes flickering from the rolls to him a few times. you think about doing this again with him, next time with him making you food. you think about being in his house, seeing how he lives, looking at the pictures he may have on the walls, or lack thereof. you think about sitting on his couch and watching a movie, shoulders and knees touching. you wonder what his room looks like, what color his sheets are. you want to know what he looks like sleeping and waking up. you want to know what he looks like on top of you and between your thighs.

“what else do you know how to make?” you ask.

“chicken pot pie.”

“pot pie? wow.” you are genuinely impressed.

“i’ve been told i make a mean stir fry, too.”

“you’ll have to make it for me then. does abby like your cooking?” you ask, putting the pan in the preheated oven.

“only if it’s spaghetti and waffles.”

“i see that she’s a simple girl.”

“food-wise, she is. but i don’t mind. they’re both easy things to make.”

“it’s sweet.” you turn to him, leaning against the counter diagonal from him. “how you take care of her. she’s lucky to have you.”

“truth is, i’m lucky to have her. we don’t always get along, but she keeps me going.”

“that is adorable,” you awe. “i am an only child, so i envy people who have siblings.”

“it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s nice just having someone there.”

“seems like it,” you say. you move to your coffee maker, turning it on and finding a k-cup to use. “would you like some coffee?”

“i would,” he nods. “can you grab us some mugs? they’re in the cabinet behind your head,” you direct.

he does so, placing the cups on the counter. he moves to slide it to you at the same time you put your hand on it. your heart skips a beat. your eyes shoot to his and you see they’re already on you. you watch his eyes trail down to your lips and the back up to your own eyes. you feel weak in the knees as he stares at you through his lashes. his eyes are wide and full of innocence, but there’s a hint of mischief in them as his pupils begin to widen.

“thank you,” you say, your voice coming out barely above a whisper.

“mhm,” he hums, his voice low and smooth. “how do you like your coffee?” you ask.

“one sugar and a splash of milk or creamer. whatever you have,” he answers.

“i have some creamer in the fridge.” you head towards your refrigerator. he watches you as you bite your lip as you search for the creamer. you shut the fridge door gently, setting the creamer next to the coffee maker. you open the cabinet above of you, grabbing a couple packets of sugar. he keeps his eyes on you as the silence settles in.

this feels so nice. being with you in your house feels nice. being close to you, spending time with you feels nice. mike wants to do this every day. he wants to fall asleep holding you close like he did the other night in the office. he wants to live with you and make dinner for you, having it await your arrival after your day shift. he wants to wake up next to you, tracing circles on your skin until they eventually become replaced with kisses. he wants to know how you’d look on top of him, riding his dick and face.

soon the cinnamon rolls are done. you take them out of the oven, waiting a few moments before icing them.

“you’re pretty good at icing,” you say. “thank you. these are kind of hard to ice since they’re so warm,” he chuckles.

“yeah, you’re supposed to wait, but i’m starving.” you take a bite into the roll, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. mike can’t help but notice that his jeans feel uncomfortably tight all the sudden. he takes a bite of his roll, making a note of how good they are.

“you can never go wrong with these,” you say. you take another bite, some icing sticking to the top of your lip. “you have a little bit of something here.” mike’s pinky points to his own lips.

“oh, god,” you laugh, heat creeping up your neck from embarrassment. “i should’ve warned you, i’m a messy eater.” you take a napkin and wipe it over the bottom half of your lip.

mike smiles and sets his roll down. “here, let me.”

you nod and place the napkin down, his fingers brushing against yours once more. he moves closer to you, leaning his head in to where your foreheads are almost touching. his gaze is trained on your lips as he cups your face, swiping his thumb over your lips. you don’t realize you’re holding in a breath until he looks into your eyes.

“thank you,” you manage to say. your throat feels dry all of the sudden and you feel hot all over. “no problem,” he says.

the air is thick between you two. you’re so close, closer than you’ve ever been. you can feel the heat radiating off of him. when you inhale you can smell him. he smells like the woods, spearmint, and vanilla. you can recognize the spearmint smell from his car. you wonder if the woodsy smell is natural and if the vanilla is the scent of his body wash.

he doesn’t move is hand away and you’re sure you don’t want him to. his eyes move across your face, not sure whether to stare at your lips or your eyes. he sucks in a deep breath, swallowing slowly. you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw becoming more sharp as he bites down on his back teeth for a moment.

“can i kiss you?” his voice is low and warm. your eyes flutter in surprise, your heart following in suit. his big brown eyes stare into yours, holding your eyes hostage.

“yes,” you finally say. he slowly moves in, his hand moving upwards to touch the nape of your neck. you try to control your breathing as you watch his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. he brushes his bottom lip against yours, causing a thrill to run up your spine. his head moves back slightly, but he makes up for it with closing the gap between you two.

kissing him feels like a weight taken off your shoulders. all the tension you’ve felt releases as you move your lips with his. he kissed you so gently, a little too soft, like he’s holding back. after a few seconds he pulls away, both of you catching your breaths.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he says. you smile, grabbing his free hand. “well, don’t stop.”

he kisses you again, this time harder. it’s almost bruising. he grabs your waist, holding you tighter and closer. you take a shower breath and his tongue slips into your mouth. you moan softly as his hand slivers down to your ass and squeezing the soft tissue. your arms wrap around him and your weave your fingers through his hair. it’s so soft like you’ve always imagined.

“can i do this?” mike breathes against your lips. your eyes are still closed as he slides both hands up your shirt. you answer him by pulling away completely and taking your shirt off, revealing your nude-colored bra. you expect his eyes to drop down immediately, but you watch as they follow your jaw and down your neck. they sweep across the area where your collarbones are, then finally landing on your breasts.

his hands walk up your sides, making you laugh a little bit. he smiles at you, his eyes jumping up to yours now. you can’t help but squeeze your thighs just by the way he’s looking at you. he attaches his lips to yours once more, but it’s not long before he starts to trail down to your neck and your chest. you unhook your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders to the ground. you lean against the counter as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your hardened nipples. you let out a little gasp as he pinches them, looking up at you to try and gage your reaction. he closes his lips around one nipple, flicking it with his tongue. you sigh this time, your hand falling to his head.

you feel his hands skim down to your pants. his fingers hook under the waistband, feeling over the cotton of your underwear. you shift your weight, feeling that the tension is almost unbearable. it’s painful as you watch him slowly slide down your pants. he runs his tongue down the valley of your breasts, pressing wet all over your tummy before landing at the top of your underwear. you step out of your pants, feeling the cold air hit your legs, making you shiver.

his left hand grabs the underside of your thigh. his hand is so warm against your cold skin. it feels nice, but not as nice as the feeling you get when he runs the pads of his fingertips down your underwear. he skims just over your slit, feeling some of the wetness that has collected. you want to slap the smirk off his face, but it makes your stomach flip.

“is there anything i should do?” he asks. now he looks all innocent, staring at you with wide eyes and raised brows.

“i could think of a few things,” you say. “mm, like what?” he inquires. his fingers are at the side of your panties. you watch in anticipation as you wait for him to pull them to the side. “tell me what you want,” mike says.

you swallow hard. “i… i want your fingers inside of me. and your mouth on me.”

you can see all of his top teeth as he smiles. “that’s all you had to say.”

you spread your legs, using the counter as a crutch. he pushes your underwear aside, slipping one finger into you. heat creeps up your neck at the sound of your cunt gushing. he slides it out momentarily, finding your clit to moisten the area. he slides two fingers in this time, curling them inside of you. he watches you again, seeing your lips part and chest heave up and down. you feel your brain go numb as he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he brings his mouth to your cunt.

“ohmygod,” you rush out, your head lolling back. his tongue flicks your clit, sucking every so often. you lead so far back your back is supported by your cabinets. one of your hands hold his head, your fingers gripping his hair. your other hand is digging your fingernails into his clothes shoulder.

“fuck, mike,” you gasp as he quickens the pace of his fingers ever so slightly. he hits that spot so perfectly, and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs around his head. his tongue starts making stronger strokes on your clit. not enough to make it hurt, but enough to make you feel like you’re already about to orgasm.

you’ve talked to mike about past lovers. you know he’s had a couple and for only short periods of time. you assumed he would be experienced, but not an expert, which you had no problem with. he’s sure as hell proving you wrong now.

“don’t stop, don’t stop,” you breathe out. you place one hand next to you on the counter, gripping the marble top so hard you think it might leave an imprint in your palm. “mike, mike,” you warn him, your throat constricting and heart racing. your toes curl in your socks and you clench your thighs around his head one last time.

you have to push his head away, seeing the dazed look on his face. his fingers exit you and he sucks them dry. you visibly gulp, feeling warmth fill your lower stomach as you watch him. all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and your heavy breathing.

“good?” he asks. “yes,” you nod enthusiastically. “so good.”

you grab him by his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you taste yourself on his lips. both of your hands drop down to his jeans, undoing his belt quickly. his heart skips in excitement as his pant pool at his ankles. you palm him through his brief, feeling how hard he it. it must be painful, you think, and it is. he was already hard from the moment he kissed you, and it didn’t get any better when giving you head.

you pull away and wet your hand with your spit, shoving your hand down his boxers. both of his hands grip your waist as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping it in your hands, squeezing every so often. your other hand reached down to his balls, massaging them gently, but at the same pace as your other hand.

“shit,” mike groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he already feels like he’s going to blow a load. he hasn’t had sex in a long while, but he didn’t his stamina was this terrible. he knows it’s you, though. you’re the reason why his fingertips are digging into your skin. you’re the reason why his pre-cum is leaking all over your hand. you’re the reason why when he feels like he’s close to coming, he stops you because he wants — no, needs — to feel what it’s like inside of you.

“do you have a condom?” mike breaths out. “yeah,” you say. you quickly make your way to one of your drawers, pulling out a packet. “these work?” you ask.

“yes,” he nods. “you just keep condoms laying around?”

“easy access,” you shrug.

“you fuck everybody in your kitchen, then?”

“only my hot co-workers.”

he blushes at your comment. you give him a wink, tearing open the condom. you hand it to him and he slides it on. you grab the bottle of lube you keep handy as well, slathering it onto the condom, giving mike a playful squeeze that elicits a low groan. he takes you by the waist and kisses you, spinning you around so now yours against the counter again. you take your panties off and hop on, the cold marble feeling nice against your blazing hot skin.

you lean back, watching mike line himself up with you. he looks into your eyes then back down, pushing himself inside of you. you gasp softly, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he starts off slow at first, basking in your warmth and tight walls. but soon, he’s fucking you. he slides his arm under your back and pulls your bottom half towards him, causing the angle to change. he hikes one of your legs up, allowing him to lean into you more and just hit that spot deep inside of you deliciously.

“mike,” you pant into his shoulder, holding yourself close to him. he makes your eyes flutter shut and roll back farther with each thrust. you pulsate around him with every whimper and moan that comes out of his mouth. you soon feel that familiar feeling bubble in your lower stomach.

mike rests his head against your cabinet, looking down and watching as he slides in and out of you. his grip on your sides tighten as he tries to focus on other things than you, but he can’t. you’re just too sexy. the way you’re moaning in his ear, chanting his name with each thrust. the way your nails begin to scrape against his shoulder blades. not to mention, you look amazing just sitting on the countertop. he can’t not think about you and the fact that he’s inside of you.

that’s all he needs to finish.

you wrap both legs around him as you come. your head leans back, your eyes screwing shut. he comes with you, stopping after a few slow thrusts. he slides out of you, chest heaving up and down. you squeeze your legs together and swear you can still feel him inside of you.

he ties the condom and throws it into your trash can. you have a big smile on your face when he turns to look at you. he can’t help but mirror it.

“how, uh, was that?” he asks, suddenly becoming bashful. “amazing,” you breathe out. “how did i do?” you ask teasingly.

“you were…. perfect.” his pupils are blown and you can’t tell where his iris starts. his words make your body feel even more warm. you jump off your counter and put your clothes back on, making a note to wipe off your counter with lysol soon.

“i should get back home to abby,” mike says. your smile falls, but you understand. “she probably misses you.”

“probably not,” he chuckles. “well, i know i will.” you take his hands into yours.

“you’ll see me soon,” he says, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

“i will,” you smile, starting to feel excited again. you walk him outside, leaning on the hood of his car. “i hope to do this again sometime,” you say.

“me, too. maybe sometime before work i can make you dinner?” he suggests.

you’re smiling so hard your cheeks are starting to hurt. “i would love that.”

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt smut #fnaf #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you

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