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emjayewrites · 2 months

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Lil’ Crush (Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem Hairstylist Reader)

SYNOPSIS: Lewis has a huge crush on his hairstylist.

PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem hairstylist reader (Y/N)

WARNINGS: cursing, slow burn at first, obvious sexual tension, sexual content. RATED R (minors DNI/18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1

A/N: Just something cutesy/nasty to hold everyone over as I take a step back from writing 🤗

Lewis tolerated your occasional tardiness at appointments, despite his dislike for waiting on others. Time and time again, you apologized, citing car troubles or traffic or double booking as the reason. But Lewis didn't mind; all that mattered was that you always showed up and delivered exceptional work.

You were skillful at your job, always in a chipper mood, explorative, and knowledgeable about your craft. You taught him the basics on how to take proper care of his hair, telling him what products to use for his specific hair pattern. You were licensed, a continuous learner of the industry, but most of all you weren’t afraid to put him in his place.

Although he hated to admit it, he enjoyed how straightforward you were, telling him off and letting him know that all of his championships, his celebrity, you couldn’t care less about it. Now, if that was anyone else, of course that will be the last time they will be within his inner circle, yet it was you.

They dubbed you “Lewis’ girl”, not meant disrespectfully but because there were rumors that Lewis forbids anyone else from pursuing you. He would never admit it openly, but you were special to him - his confidante. And he wasn't willing to let anyone else have you.

It wasn't possessiveness, just a desire to keep you all to himself. So he came up with a plan, vowing to be honest with himself and stop playing games. But knowing Lewis, it would probably take a while.

Until then, he continued pining - casual flirting here and there that goes under your radar, small gifts, giving you his undivided attention. The works. It was you after all.

Once again, you joined Lewis for another race weekend. Despite your growing fame and clientele, you made sure to schedule around Lewis's busy racing schedule. He always spoke highly of you and his fans loved every hairstyle you created for him since becoming his permanent hairstylist toward the end of last season.

Lewis only gave you the best: from hair tools to flights and hotel rooms, whatever you needed, you received it. After all, you were his girl.

Another race in another country. This time you found yourself in Japan. A first time for you whereas a countless number for him. Lewis flew you out first class and booked you a suite with a view. It was your first time, so you had to have a great experience.

Your hair was in its natural state, perfect spiral curls from your flexi rod set. Lewis loved your hair like this, how it framed your face beautifully and reflected your personality. You were always experimenting with different styles - silk presses, bohemian braids, wigs - and they all worked flawlessly. Despite claiming to not be into fashion as much as Lewis, he couldn't help but compliment your impeccable outfits.

You were in your own world, moving around freely as you listened to a song from one of your many playlists. You just finished washing his hair and was now in the midst of detangling his curls before blow-drying.

Lewis had always prided himself on being a disciplined and focused athlete, but when it came to you, he was powerless. Every time he saw you, his heart raced and his mind went into overdrive, imagining all the ways he could make you moan and scream his name, especially with the outfit that you wearing.

He had a preference for skirts over pants on you, admiring how they showed off your long legs despite being a few inches shorter than him. Your ass looked amazing whether you wore pants or skirts, but there was something about you in a skirt that drove him wild with desire. Many nights, he dreamt of bending you over, reveling in how the skirt would rise up to reveal your thighs and perfect backside. He imagined taking you from behind, delivering mind-blowing thrusts and relishing in the sounds you made when you were near climax. You bent over in a skirt, wet and willing for him - it was one of his favorite fantasies. Another was listening to your sultry voice praising him, a kink he didn't know he had until you comforted him after a tough race. As you paused in the middle of braiding his hair to hold him close and speak softly, it aroused him more than he'd like to admit.

The sight of you in that skirt today distracted him like no other. The way the fabric clung to your thighs, subtly emphasizing your hips and drawing attention to the gentle curve of your waist, was nothing short of intoxicating. He could have spent hours just watching you move, the hem of the skirt brushing against your calves as you walked, offering fleeting glimpses of skin that sent a shiver through him. But he knew he had to control himself, or risk losing all restraint and giving into his desires right then and there.

Lewis sat in his seat, stealing glances at you and attempting to distract himself from thoughts of confessing his feelings. He had been keeping them hidden for months, fearing that revealing them would destroy the strong bond of friendship that had grown between you over the past year. Before meeting you, Lewis was known as guarded by his close friends and family, but your presence had slowly broken down the barriers he had constructed after his breakup with his ex.

“Any ideas on what you want to get done today, or are you open to trying something new?” you ask as you part his hair into four neat sections.

Lewis winces as the comb glides through his tight coils, causing him to shift in his seat and prompting you to gently guide him back.

So tender-headed, you thought to yourself. But it was always worth it for the end result - styling Lewis' hair was one of your favorite things to do. You talked about everything and nothing - work, family, hobbies - and each time, Lewis opened up a little more. Plus, he was easy on the eyes.

He hummed thoughtfully before answering, "Hmm, let's go with the usual fade on the sides and maybe some blonde in the braids."

"Okay, I see you, Lew Lew," you exclaimed, causing him to chuckle.

As you worked on his hair, Lewis couldn't help but admire your skill and grace. You had always been artistic and creative, but watching you braid his hair was simply mesmerizing.

"How's it looking so far?" you asked, holding up a mirror for him to inspect the back of his head.

Lewis tilted his head to the side, admiring your handiwork. "Perfect as always," he replied with a smile.

"Good," you said with a satisfied nod before returning to braiding.

"So how have things been going for you lately?" He asks, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you.

You pause for a moment before replying, "Pretty good actually. I've been busy with work. I got a lot of new clients."

"That's great to hear," Lewis smiles warmly at you. "You deserve all the success that's coming your way."

Your heart flutters at his words and you feel a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. Lewis often showed such overt affection towards you, but it still made you giddy.

"Thanks," you reply with a shy smile. "And what about you? How's everything been since your last race?"

Lewis hesitates for a moment before answering, "It's been...strange. But good." He reaches up to rub at his neck nervously. "I've been feeling different lately. I was in a sour mood about the car this season, but I’m just trying to enjoy the rest of the races."

"As you should, King," you say, making him grin widely. Lewis closed his eyes in relaxation as you worked on him, massaging oil into his scalp as you continued to section off his hair. He enjoyed feeling your hands on him, how gentle you were. "Don't fall asleep on me now," you reply with a laugh as you catch him dozing off.

"I'm not sleeping, just resting my eyes," he responded, trying to play it cool.

"Mmmhmm," you said skeptically, remembering the last time he had said that and ended up snoring away. "You said that last time and your ass was out like a light."

Lewis chuckled sheepishly. "Well, don't be so good at your job," he teased playfully.

"Bye, Lewis," you quipped in a dismissive tone, rolling your eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere,” you shoot back with a wink before continuing to massage his scalp.

After a few minutes, you finish applying the hair oil and begin braiding the remaining sections of Lewis' hair. You work quickly and efficiently, your hands moving in sync as if they were made for this very task.

"You never cease to amaze me with your skills," he says sincerely.

"Well, I have a pretty amazing canvas to work on," you reply with a smile, referring to Lewis' hair.

He chuckles before getting serious again. "But seriously though, thank you for always taking care of me."

You pause in your braiding and look at him with concern. "Of course Lewis. You know I'm always here for you."

"I do know that," he says softly patting your arm.

Your heart races at the intimacy of the gesture. Lewis clears his throat and sits straighter in the chair.

"Alright, enough of that," he says, "what are your plans for the week?"

"Well, I was going to hang out here for another day or so then head back home to rest before I travel for another client."

"What do you mean 'stay for a day or so'?" Lewis asked incredulously. "Y/N, the suite is reserved until the end of the week. This is your first time in Japan; don't leave so soon."

I want to spend more time with you, Lewis thought to himself. But he couldn't express those feelings out loud, at least not yet.

"I have to rest, Lew," you stated, trying to sound firm.

"You can rest here," was his response, making you frown slightly. Although you didn't mind spending more time with Lewis, you didn't want to intrude on his personal space.

"What are you trying to do, convince me to stay longer so that you can bother me?" you teased half-heartedly, trying to hide your true feelings.

Lewis chuckled and shook his head. "No, I just don't want you to miss out on all that Japan has to offer. Plus, I would love for you to experience it with me."

His words tug at your heartstrings. You couldn't resist that charming smile and pleading look in his eyes.

"Fine," you finally relent with a smile. "But only if you promise not to bother me too much."

"Deal," he says with a grin before pulling out his phone. "I’m texting the guys now to tell them that you’re coming with us to dinner."

"Of course you are," you say as you finish up the last braid and give it a final spritz of hairspray. "All done."

Lewis rises from the chair and swivels around to face a mirror, examining his new hairstyle with a satisfied grin before turning his attention towards you. "Looks amazing."

"It was my pleasure," you reply with a warm smile.

The moment feels charged with unspoken tension, and for a moment, you both just stand there looking at each other until Lewis’ phone dinged with a text.

He checks the message and his grin widens. "It’s Miles," he informed you. "Looks like they're already waiting for us at the restaurant. You good to go?"

You glanced down at your outfit. You freshened up earlier and was currently wearing a mini cargo skirt and a black bodysuit. Simple yet stylish nonetheless. You nod, gathering your purse and other necessities then slipped into a pair of heels. You followed Lewis out of the suite and into the elevator. The ride down was quiet, but you can feel Lewis' gaze on you, making you shift slightly under his scrutiny.

As soon as the elevator doors open, Lewis leads you through the hotel lobby to one of the hotel’s restaurants.

Lewis fills you in on some interesting facts about Japan and its culture as you walk to your table. You find yourself hanging on to every word he says, enjoying not only his knowledge but also his company.

The rest of the guys are already seated, chatting animatedly amongst themselves.

Miles jumps up from his seat when he sees Lewis and rushes over to give him a hug. "Hey, bruv! Glad you could make it," he says before turning to face you with a warm smile. "Y/N, how are you babygirl? Looking as gorgeous as ever."

"I’m doing great." You greeted Lewis' best friend with a warm smile and leaned in for a hug. The embrace lingers longer than you expected, with Miles holding onto you tightly before finally pulling away. You don't think anything of it, as Miles is just as, if not more, flirtatious than Lewis. However, you can't help but notice Lewis's scowl from the corner of your eye. You then greeted Andrew and Tim, engaging in light conversation with them.

"Seriously, cut it out," Lewis whispered to Miles as he watched you talking to his friends.

Miles looked confused. "I just said hi, I can still talk to Y/N, right?"

"It's not about that, man. Just tone down the hugging and all that." Lewis was trying to keep his jealousy in check, but he didn't appreciate Miles being too touchy-feely. Miles was a hugger by nature, but sometimes he could be excessive.

"Relax, bruv," Miles said quietly so only Lewis could hear. "You need to be honest with her and stop messing around. If you keep dragging your feet, you'll end up losing her to someone else."

"But she--"

"Lew, are we going to eat or are you two going to have a private conversation all night?" you interrupted playfully, causing Andrew and Tim to laugh.

Miles nudged Lewis towards the booth. "Go sit next to your girl and quit being a dickhead."

Lewis chuckled and playfully swatted him away before doing as he was told and sitting next to you. He placed an arm around the length of the seat, engulfing you with his closeness and the addictive smell of his cologne. "Get whatever you want, Y/N."

"Oh okay, big spender," you say as you peruse the menu, your eyes stopping at the wagyu. "What if I want this?"

Lewis made a face of disgust at your choice. "You know how I feel about meat, but if you want it, you can have it."

Smiling mischievously, you pointed out another expensive option. "And this too?"

Lewis shrugged. "Anything you want."

You raise an eyebrow at him and put the menu down. "Are you sure? Because I can keep going."

Lewis laughs, knowing exactly what you’re doing. "Okay, okay. Let’s not bankrupt me. You can get things within reason. I don’t want you to become a little brat."

"I’m almost there with the way you’ve been spoiling me lately," you said. "I mean, who flies out their hair braider in first class?"

Lewis chuckled as he leans in closer, whispering in your ear. "Well, I can't have my girl flying in economy."

"Your girl?" you scoff, rolling your eyes as you continue playing the game with him. Lewis has always been a flirt, and sometimes the two of you engage in playful banter, but it never goes beyond that. A small part of you can't help but wonder if all the rumors about him being great in bed are true, and the thought briefly crosses your mind to take things further. However, your professionalism always took precedence, and you kept a decorum between the two of you. "So what’re you? My Sugar Daddy?"

"If that's what you want, I can definitely make it happen." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

"You wish," you teased, knowing that Lewis was not one to shy away from spending money on those he cared about.

The conversation continued to flow easily between the two of you, with Miles and the others occasionally interjecting with their own comments and jokes. You couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment of normalcy amidst the chaos and hectic schedule of race weekends.

As the night went on and dinner came to an end, Lewis insisted on paying for everything before escorting you out of the restaurant.

"Thanks for dinner," you said sincerely as Lewis walked you back to your suite. "I had a great time."

Lewis smiled warmly at you as he watched you open the door. "Anytime, Y/N. Can’t have my girl out here starving."

"There you go with the 'my girl' bullshit," you say. "I bet you say that to every woman you’re around."

"Nah," he replied. "Only to you. You’re my girl."

You gave him a quick examination, noting how his frame filled out his clothes. He appeared to have bulked up since the last time you saw him; clearly, he had been spending some serious time in the weight room. You were fully aware of Lewis' reputation as a womanizer and didn't want to be just another conquest, yet you couldn't deny his attractiveness. And with him staring at you with such intense focus, you felt yourself on the verge of giving in to temptation.

"Why are you so quiet?" he asked you, pulling you out of your reverie.

"Honest answer?"

“Of course.”

"Just admiring you," you boldly stated, catching him a bit off-guard. "I’m surprised that you never tried anything with me. I mean, we flirt, but it never ends in anything."

Lewis looked at you with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, his eyes searching yours for any sign of jest, but the serious expression on your face told him otherwise.

"Well, to be honest," he began, "I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. You’re my hairstylist and I respect you."

"Is that all it is? Respect?" you inquired, unable to keep the hint of bitterness out of your voice.

Lewis hesitated for a moment before reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. "Of course not," he said softly. "I think you're an amazing person. It's just... I don’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward between us."

"We're grown adults," you told him. "Trust me, I wouldn't be even considering this if I thought it was going to fuck up everything."

Lewis searched your face for any signs of hesitation or doubt, before finally nodding in understanding. "I know…and you have no idea how much…fuck Y/N…you have no idea how bad I want you."

"Then show me," you challenged.

Without hesitation, Lewis leaned in and captured your lips in a heated kiss. The passion and desire between you two was palpable as his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer to him. You eagerly responded, your own hands roaming over his muscular frame, feeling every inch of him.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away slightly, both of you gasping for air. "Wow," you breathed out, looking into Lewis' dark eyes.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice low and husky. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time." Lewis rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "Let's take this somewhere more private."

Nodding in agreement, you grabbed his hand and led him inside your suite, shutting the door behind you.

Once inside, there was no slowing down. He lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to the bedroom, gently laying you down on the bed before crawling on top of you. His lips found yours again as his hands continued to explore every inch of your body. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed and nipped at your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Lewis' hands traveled down to your hips where he began to unzip your skirt. "You don't understand how bad I wanted to do this, especially with how you kept teasing me with these fuckin' skirts," he groaned, tossing the skirt aside before trailing kisses down your chest.

You let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch as his hands found their way under your shirt before he removed it and the bra you wore. His touch was electric, sending sparks through your body and igniting a fire within you. You ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to leave a path of kisses down your body, finally reaching the waistband of your panties.

He looked up at you with dark eyes filled with desire and need before sliding them off of you. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his intense gaze, but he leaned in to press a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the way to your womanhood.

"Look at how wet this pussy is for me," he commented as he glanced at your glistening mound. "You’ve been craving a nigga badly, huh?"

You couldn't even form a coherent response as Lewis dipped his head between your legs, his tongue expertly finding all the right spots and sending you into a frenzy of pleasure. You moaned and writhed under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally came undone, it was with a loud cry of his name. He didn't stop there though, continuing to lick and suck at your sensitive folds until you were begging him to stop.

"You taste so good," he murmured, licking his lips before crawling back up to kiss you again.

You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh and couldn't wait any longer. You reached for the waistband of his pants, but he stopped you, shaking his head.

"So impatient," he whispered against your lips.

"Shut up," was your response, making him chuckle. He stood up from the bed and quickly undressed himself before returning to hover over you.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, positioning himself at your entrance.

"I want you inside me," you moaned without hesitation.

Lewis didn't waste any time thrusting into you in one smooth motion. The feeling of being filled by him was almost overwhelming as he started moving in a steady rhythm. You wrapped your legs around him, urging him on as your nails dug into his back. He groaned as he felt your tight walls clenching around him. He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever. He had imagined it a thousand times in his head, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

Lewis started moving faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Your moans and whimpers only spurred him on as he chased his own pleasure.

You couldn't believe how good it felt. You had been with other guys before, but none of them could compare to Lewis. He seemed to know exactly how to touch you, how to make you feel like you were on cloud nine.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "So fucking wet."

He leaned down and captured one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while still pleasuring you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to feel even closer to him. The intensity was building inside you and you knew you were close to another climax.

Lewis must have sensed it too because he reached between your bodies to rub your clit while still thrusting into you and sucking your nipples. It was too much and you screamed his name as you came undone again, your body shaking with pleasure.

He followed closely after, his hips stuttering before finally stilling as he spilled himself inside of you.

You both stayed in that position for a few moments, catching your breaths and enjoying the afterglow of sex. Lewis rolled off of you eventually and pulled you close against his chest.

"Damn," he murmured into your hair. "That was amazing."

You smiled contentedly, feeling more connected to him than ever before.

"I can't believe I waited this long," he continued, placing soft kisses along your forehead. "I should have made a move on you ages ago."

You laughed softly and snuggled closer to him.

"Well I'm glad you finally did," you replied, feeling completely happy and satisfied in that moment.

The two of you spent the rest of the night tangled up in each other, talking and laughing until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Lewis moving around. You stretched and smiled, feeling content and at peace.

"Good morning," Lewis said, walking into the bedroom with a mug of coffee. He handed it to you before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Morning," you replied, taking a sip of the hot drink. "Thank you for this."

He grinned. "Anything for my girl."

Your heart fluttered at his words, still not quite used to hearing him call you that, but it felt right and it made you smile even more.

Part Two, anyone? Let me know in the comments.

#emjayewrites #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x black oc #f1 x black!reader #formula one!black reader #formula one fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfiction

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likeadevils · 7 months

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1989 Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on 1989 in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing 1989 and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process

Of all the albums in Taylor's discography, I think this is the one that improves the most when you listen to it in order. All of those things Taylor was talking about in the promo for this album-- how this is an album of her coming into her own, figuring out her values, learning to stand on her own two feet-- it all clicks into place. Listening to it in order has made me cry on more than one occasion, and it's also the thing that made me start this whole crazy process of figuring out the dates she wrote each song.

If you don't want to read the whole post, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date:

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based on guesswork and is highly likely to change, or, all that is known is the general season.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices)

Without further ado...

Oct 6, 2012: Taylor seems to have been in a studio in London (Note: I have no idea where this photo comes from and I can not find a place that specifies if this is a music studio or radio interview.)

This Love: Oct 17, 2012 (Confirmed)

October 19, 2012: Taylor mentions wanting to work with Imogen Heap, prompting Imogen to get in touch with Taylor

Time Interview: Who’d be your dream collaboration, especially now that you’re taking more musical risks? Let me think. Imogen Heap! She’s amazing. Taylor: Someone asked me in an interview "Who would you like to work with?" and I said Imogen Heap. I get an email to my management, sent like "Imogen just saw that Taylor just said an interview that she would like to work together" She said "Why don't you come out to my studio." Imogen: I got a phone call [in 2014] saying Taylor Swift was in London, she'd love to work with me and the only date she could do (between 4 sold out 02 arenas!) was the day after we got back, Sunday. It was both unexpected and not at the same time as I'd heard Taylor was a fan a while back via this Time magazine piece but somehow didn't think it would actually happen.

Fall 2012: Taylor possibly writes a song with Harry Styles and Jacknife Lee (her producer for The Last Time)

“It was out of my field of expertise and interest, but I was intrigued and my girls were thrilled. Taylor was nice and very professional. She knew what she wanted and there was no fucking about. She was seeing Harry Styles at the time, so he came to Topanga on her recommendation. She wrote a few songs with him, and it was the same thing – quick. But this time it was more directed by the management and label. They were after something specific. I wanted more acoustic and gentle, almost Americana, and they wanted bombast. They got what they wanted, and that was the extent of my foray into teen-pop territory. It was fun.”

All You Had to Do Was Stay: Jan 10, 2013 (Confirmed)

Taylor is photographed outside Conway, and then tweets "Back in the studio. Uh oh..." Later, Taylor confirmed that she was recording All You Had To Do Was Stay. Taylor: I had a dream that my ex showed up at my door, knocked at my door, and I opened it up, and I was about ready to launch into the perfect thing to say [...], Instead, all that would come out of my mouth was that high-pitched chorus of people singing, 'Stay!'...and then you go to say something else, and it's just like 'Stay! Stay! Stay!' And I woke up, I was like 'Oh, that was mortifying. But that's kind of a cool vocal part.'

January 11, 2013: Taylor is photographed outside Conway again

How You Get The Girl: Jan 15, 2013 (Confirmed)

Taylor posts a picture of her playing a guitar in the studio, captioned "Somewhere in LA..". Later, Taylor confirmed that she was recording How You Get The Girl. Given what was going on in her personal life, she likely wrote this sometime in the fall/winter of 2012, but all we know for sure is the date she recorded it.

February 9, 2013: Tweets "Grammy rehearsals last night, studio today, who knows what tonight holds! (I do. Laying around watching TV and eating candy.)"

March 6, 2013: Taylor is photographed outside a studio in LA

March 23, 2013: Posts a picture of her playing guitar captioned "Pre show. Columbia, South Carolina"

I Wish You Would: May 28, 2013 (Inferring)

Taylor is photographed out for lunch in Rhode Island with Lena Dunham (and likely Jack Antonoff, who was Lena's boyfriend but not as famous at the time) on May 27 before leaving for her show in Phoenix, Arizona the next day Jack: "We were hanging out at her house in Rhode Island and we were talking about John Hughes movies, and a lot of the music that inspired [them], and just this general culture of sound in that time period that was really larger-than-life in an anthemic, positive way. These songs could be at the end of films that were really, really beautiful and said a lot. That actually ended up being a song called 'I Wish You Would' which is going to be on her album. We first worked on that song together and realised we kind of have a good thing. Taylor: “This is a song I did with Jack Antonoff, and Jack is one of my friends and so we were hanging out and he pulled out his phone and goes "I made this amazing track the other day. It's so cool, I love these guitar sounds." And he played it for me and immediately I could hear this finished song in my head, and I just said "Please, please let me have that. Let me play with it, like send it to me" And so he sent it to me and I was on tour and this was me playing the track on my laptop recording me singing the vocal into my phone and it ended up being a song called "I Wish You Would", because Jack wrote back and said "I love that".”

June 7, 2013: At the CMA fest, Taylor is asked if she's started writing for her next album yet

“It's starting, all the anxiety is starting and when the anxiety starts, then the writing happens right afterward, usually. Um, so, yeah, I basically... I like to, I like to write for about two years before I'm finished with an album because I... at this point I kind of know that whenever I write in the first year is going to get thrown away, because, I'm going to like it, but it's going to sound a little bit like the last project I had, and the second year usually ends up sounding like the next project. So I think at this point, at this point I feel like staying the same is the easy way to go but it's not the way that I want to go, creatively. I think you need to challenge yourself, I think you need to change up your influences, I think you need to be inspired by different things that you've been inspired by before, and, uh, y'know, It's harder to call people you don't know, and it's harder to think of topics you haven't covered and think of new ways to say old emotions that everyone feels, but, that's the goal at this point."

June 20-21, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez hang out, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

July 15, 2013: Taylor gives a brief interview to Rolling Stone

“The floodgates just opened the last couple weeks,” she says of the songwriting process. “I’m getting to that point where I’m irritating to be around because I’ll be with you for half the conversation and then the second half of the conversation I’m clearly editing the second verse of whatever I’m writing in my head.” “I really loved collaborating [on Red],” she says. “You work with a lot of different people and you find the people you have this dream connection with in the studio. I know those people and I know the ones I want to go back to. But I also have a really long list of the people I admire and I would really love to go and contact. So that’s kind of where that is.” “I think that the idea of having a different approach to every single one of my albums is so exciting to me. I never want to make the same record twice. Why do it? What’s the point? It’s so overwhelming that when you’re starting a project there are such endless possibilities if you’re willing to evolve and experiment. If you’re willing to become a different version of yourself, you can really go anywhere with it. And that’s kind of where I am. The kind of the laboratory experimental stage of really catching onto a new thing that I’m liking.”

July 18, 2013: Taylor unfollows the three backup dancers that left her tour for Katy's, meaning Bad Blood was likely written sometime between July and November 2013.

Sweeter Than Fiction: Summer 2013 (Speculation)

Taylor wrote this one over email, and then it was recorded in New York (partially in Jack's living room, partially in an actual studio)

August 25, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez hang out at the VMAs, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

August 25, 2013: Taylor gives a brief interview on the VMAs red carpet

"But I think [songwriting is] about to start to kick into full gear. I'm about to go into the studio. It's about to get really intense."

Out Of The Woods: September 14 2013 (Inferring)

On September 14, Fun cancelled their show. Taylor was likely either flying to or from Charlottesville, where she had a show for the Red Tour. Jack: "When I did the track for Out of the Woods, which is a Taylor song that I'm really proud of, there was some issue at a venue and our show was canceled that night and I didn't have my stuff, I had left it on the bus, so I only had these old samples on what was on my laptop, and caught up that 'oh oh'' thing, and I only had one drum kit on there, and these dumb little things [sometimes turn into a great song]" Jack: "So 'Out Of The Woods' was the third thing we worked on together, and probably the easiest. I sent her the track for it, and she sent back a voice note with the verse and chorus in what felt like five seconds. And it was just perfect. It's eerie how similar it is to what the final product is." Taylor: "This is a track that Jack Antonoff sent me, and I was actually on a plane, I got it and I got on a plane and I'm listening to it, and I'm just like listening to it and mumbling melodies cause the song came to me immediately like, in full [...] I think what I should start by playing you, is when I got the track, what I sent him like an hour later, and it is, me.. um, me singing what came to me, which ended up being the finished version of the song, or at least really close to it."

September 20, 2013: In a brief interview with USA Today, Taylor says she plans to work on her next album between the next few legs of the Red Tour

"I’ll be in the studio, figuring out what comes next. I really like to take two years to make a record, and I’ve been writing and doing stuff for the last year. This is kind of the year that it goes into overdrive, and it’s all I think about and I become obsessive over it and I’m hard to talk to"

September 22, 2013: Taylor gives an interview to New York Magazine where she talks about her plans for TS5

These days, Swift is thinking a lot about her next record. While on the Red tour, she’d been writing songs and stockpiling ideas: reams of lyrics, thousands of voice memos in her iPhone [...] she plans to spend much of 2014 writing and recording the new album, a prospect she finds exhilarating and terrifying. “I worry about everything. Some days I wake up in a mind-set of, like, ‘Okay, it’s been a good run.’ By afternoon, I could have a change of mood and feel like anything is possible and I can’t wait to make this kind of music I’ve never made before. And then by evening, I could be terrified of the whole thing again. And then at night, I’ll write a song before bed.” Swift hopes to collaborate with new songwriters and producers. But she planned to begin, she said, by heading back into the studio with Max Martin and Shellback. “I want to go in with Max and Johan first, just to figure out what the bone structure of this record is going to be. “I have a lot of things to draw from emotionally at the moment. But I have to draw from them with a different perspective than on Red. I can’t say the same things over and over, you know? I mean, I think it’s just all the more important that I don’t ever allow myself to coast. At the same time, there’s a mistake that I see artists make when they’re on their fourth or fifth record, and they think innovation is more important than solid songwriting. The most terrible letdown as a listener for me is when I’m listening to a song and I see what they were trying to do. Like, where there’s a dance break that doesn’t make any sense, there’s a rap that shouldn’t be there, there’s like a beat change that’s, like, the coolest, hippest thing this six months—but it has nothing to do with the feeling, it has nothing to do with the emotion, it has nothing to do with the lyric. I never want to put things in songs just because that might make them popular, like, on the more rhythmic stations or in dance clubs. I really don’t want a compilation of sounds. I just need them to be songs.”

September 28-October 5, 2013: Taylor and Selena Gomez are in the same city, and Taylor potentially writes Wildest Dreams.

October 12, 2013: Taylor gives an interview to the Associated Press

Swift: I think the goal for the next album is to continue to change, and never change in the same way twice [...] How do I write these figurative diary entries in ways that I’ve never written them before and to a sonic backdrop that I’ve never explored before? It’s my fifth album, which is crazy to think about, but I think what I’m noticing about it so far is it’s definitely taking a different turn than anything I’ve done before. AP: You said recently you’ve been working on songs for the new album for about six months. What can you tell us about what you have planned? Swift: It’s too early to tell who are going to be my predominant collaborators, but I do know that my absolute dream collaborators were Shellback and Max Martin on the last project. I’ve never been so challenged as a songwriter. I’ve never learned so much. I’ve never just been so excited to show up to the studio every day, just because you never know what we’re going to put together. I’ll bring in ideas and they’ll take such a different turn than where I thought they were going to go, and that level of unexpected spontaneity is something that really thrills me in the process of making music. ... What if we did this? What if we made it weirder? What if we took it darker? I love people who have endless strange and exciting ideas about where music can go."

October 14, 2013: At the NSAI, Taylor talks about reinventing herself for different albums

"I’m making my 5th record now, so I think you have to change things up, you have to explore different corners of music as much as you can. Cause I really, it’s been a big goal of mine to never make two albums that sounded the same. I really want my fans to be able to be like "Oh that song? Clearly that's from the Fearless album", "No that one, that one was from Red" and so I’m in the process of doing that thing all over again for my 5th album and it’s amazing to be in the studio and to be songwriting again, and be honored for songwriting tonight"

Blank Space: October 26, 2013 (Inferring)

It looks like she’s wearing the same outfit in this behind the scenes footage and these candids Taylor: "I was going into write with Max Martin and Shellback, who are two of the primary collaborators on 1989, and I... was preparing all these things, and I, I think Blank Space was like the third thing I played them, and they just stopped and they were like "NO, this is the first thing we're working on today." [...] I had the idea for the chorus and I had the hook, but a lot of the verse was gibberish." Taylor (On what song took her the least amount of time to write): "Blank space, cause I'd written a lot of the lines down already in the year preceding the session"

October 29, 2013: Tweets "Sitting in the studio writing the next album (!!!!) and wanted to thank you for the American Music Award nominations!"

November 1 : While promoting Keds, Taylor is asked about her next album

"What I go through is going to be the story that I tell. I think lyrically, I always try to tell my fans exactly what’s happened to me in the last two years, and that’s the thing they can expect. Everything else, they won’t be able to expect. Having been in the studio with this one, I’m just like… oh, this is going to be fun"

Bad Blood: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

The backup dancer drama seems to have kicked off in mid-July. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

New Romantics: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Unfortunately, Taylor doesn't really talk about this song. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

Wildest Dreams: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Selena reportedly told a fan she was there when Taylor wrote this, and I've noted above all the times Selena could have been with Taylor in 2013 (Here's my personal ranking of how likely each date is). Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013.

Wonderland: Fall 2013 (Speculation)

Another one Taylor just doesn't talk about all that often. Given that it's produced by Max Martin and Shellback, and Taylor was in the studio with them pretty much non-stop from October-November, we can assume that it was recorded sometime in the Fall of 2013

Nov 20, 2013: Taylor posted "While in the studio, I came to the realization that my bangs are long enough to use as a sleep mask on long flights. Then I remembered I don't ever use sleep masks on flights. So really, I just need a haircut"

November 25, 2013: Taylor and Scott Borchetta have a meeting to talk about her plans for TS5 and are both asked about the next album at the AMAs

Taylor: “We got a lot already. There are probably seven or eight [songs] that I know I want on the record. It’s really ahead of schedule for me. I’m just stoked because it’s already evolved into a new sound, and that’s all I wanted. And I would have taken two years to make that happen, but it just kind of happened naturally, so that’s all I could really ask for.” Scott Borchetta: "Well earlier today we got together and she played me seven new songs, and she’s just on fire. The level of desire and passion that she has just to keep getting better, she’s an artist that just really never wants to just say ‘Well okay this is good enough’. It’s always gotta be better. She’s in amazing creative place right now." By the end of November, Taylor had likely recorded This Love, All You Had To Do Was Stay, How You Get The Girl, I Wish You Would, Out Of The Woods, Blank Space, Bad Blood, New Romantics, Wildest Dreams, and Wonderland. That’s 10 songs total, 5 of which were likely recorded in the past two months, and 7 that had been made since Taylor and Jack had their conversation about 80s music in May.

Dec 21, 2013: Taylor briefly talks to Billboard about TS5

"I’m really loving collaboration right now [...] I see it as a bit of an apprenticeship. I want to be around people who love writing songs and have done it for years. Every time I’m in a studio I’m learning, like how to build a drum track, and getting a new perspective on things. It’s so thrilling to keep learning on your fifth album. As soon as [an album] comes out I’m figuring out what the next one will be. It’s gotten to the point where each one is a reinvention, which is what I like best. I like it when it sounds new and people don’t know where you’re going to go next."

Say Don't Go: Jan 1, 2014 (Confirmed)

Diane Warren: Warren, who typically writes on her own, says the two of them “sat down and wrote the song […] from scratch” during the last few days of 2013. She remembers being impressed with how specific Swift was with her lyricism and how considerate she was about how her fans might receive it. “She was very particular about how she said certain things. It was a really interesting experience. She gets her audience [...] She’s deeply aware of how her fans want to hear something. I can’t explain it, but that’s probably why she’s the biggest fucking star in the world.” Several days after writing the song together, they got into Warren’s office to record a demo, where Swift played it on her acoustic guitar. “We demoed it on New Year’s Day. And I’m a workaholic, and that’s fine for me,” she says. “But I remember being impressed that she did, too. Everybody’s on vacation, but she showed up.”

You Are In Love: Jan 2014 (Inferring)

This song is copyrighted for 2014. Taylor has said a few times that Clean, Shake It Off, and Style were the last songs written for the album, meaning You Are In Love was likely completed in January or early February. Given Taylor's busy schedule in late January and early February, I'd guess this was written at some point in early January. Furthermore, I'd guess it was sometime after the 9th, when she returned from looking at house in New York.

I Know Places: Jan 22, 2014 (Confirmed)

Taylor: "I sent this voice memo to Ryan Tedder because I'd always wanted to work with him, and finally we scheduled some studio time. So I always wanna be prepared, I wanted to send him the idea that I was working on before we went into the studio just in case he wrote back and said "I can't stand that, I wanna work on something else, think of something else" So I just sat down with the piano, put my phone on top of the piano and just kind of explained to him where I wanted to go with the song, how I saw the melody sitting in and we ended up recording the song the next day and it ended up being on the record called "I Know Places" So this was the voice memo that I sent to him the night before we ended up finishing the song"

Welcome To New York: Jan 23, 2014 (Confirmed)

Ryan Tedder: "I thought we were going to walk in and start something from scratch because that's what I was used to. Then she calls me and says, 'Is it cool if I already have an idea?' I said, 'Sure.' She said, 'I have this song, I'm obsessed with New York and I just moved there, I want to write an ode to New York because no one's done it in a long time.' And then she sent me a voice memo. She's like, 'I want it to sound like 1980s.' So the next day I brought in a Juno-106, which is a very 1980s keyboard and I literally programmed that entire song right in front of her. It was very much on the fly, and that song was done in about three hours. And I did the rest of the production I think later that week. I was in Switzerland on a tour bus, and I did four versions of 'Welcome to New York,' one of which I liked personally more, but the thing about artists is they become very obsessed with the demo. She was in love with the demo so no matter how hard I fought, she brought it back to the demo, so really what you hear is what I did on the first day."

January 26 2014: Dianne Warren says that she recently wrote a song with Taylor

"I worked with Taylor Swift on a great song [...] I'm excited about the [song] that we did, it's pretty cool Dianne in 2016: “I know [Swift] likes it, so hopefully it will see the light of day. I know she really likes the song. She didn’t want me to give it away, so hopefully that means she wants it.”

January 26 2014: Taylor loses Album of the Year at the Grammy's to Daft Punk. She tells a few different stories about what the rest of the night looked like for her-- in some she goes home alone, in some she has some friends over-- but in all of them, this is the night where she decides that she's gonna name the album 1989, and she's not going to let her label tell her to put any country songs on it.

Clean: Feb 9, 2014 (Confirmed)

According to Imogen Heap's blog post, Taylor had the first verse and chorus by the time they got into the studio, and then wrote the second verse and bridge during the session. Taylor's part was wrapped up in 9 hours, ending at 8pm, while Imogen stayed up until 4am because she didn't want to stop working on it. Taylor: ""Shake It Off" and "Clean" were the last two things we wrote for the record, so it shows you where I ended up mentally. “Clean” I wrote as I was walking out of Liberty in London. Someone I used to date— it hit me that I’d been in the same city as him for two weeks and I hadn’t thought about it. When it did hit me, it was like, ‘Oh, I hope he’s doing well’. And nothing else. [...] The first thought that came to my mind was – I’m finally clean." Imogen Heap: I was really writing the tiniest amount just to help her do what she does. I put some noises to [“Clean”], played various instruments on it, including drums, and anytime she expressed she liked something I was doing, I did it more. It was a really fun day. She recorded all her vocals [for “Clean”] during that one session. She did two takes, and the second take was it. We always thought she would probably re-record it, because we thought it can’t possibly be that easy. But after we lived with it for a few months, we felt it was great.

February 15, 2014: Taylor posts "It was a studio Valentines Day with Max and Johan!"

Shake It Off: Feb 15, 2014 (Confirmed)

Lover Diaries (From Feb 22): "This week I’ve been in the studio with Max and Johan every day and it has been the most creatively successful and fulfilling time. The first day, Johan just made a really up tempo drum beat because we decided we needed something UP and light. We worked at it for a few hours before I just started singing “shake it off, shake it off.” And then the best way I know how to describe it is that the chorus just fell out of the sky. It ended up being this song about doing your own thing even though haters are gonna hate, and you just have to dance to your own beat. We all went home and I wrote the first and second verses and brought them in the next day. We wrote this chanty cheer leader bridge that I absolutely LOVE. We spent all day doing vocals and the next day recording background vocals. I think it’ll end up being the first single and Max said it’s his favorite song he’s ever been a part of." Taylor: "The problem was, I had all these lyrics, and I didnt have, like... writing session was coming up and I'm just like "I'm not getting a melody, I'm dead, I don't know what I'm gonna do." The thought terrified me, so I just sorta sulked into the studio and I was like "Guys, I have like an idea but its like, lyric, but I... and I know the vibe I want-- I want it to start off and the second the song starts, I want it to be the song where like, if it's played at a wedding, and there's this one girl who hasn't danced all night at the reception, all her friends come over to her and there like "You have to dance, come on, you have to dance on this one!". That's what I wanted. So I was like "Shellback, can you just go to the drum kit and try to play that?" Taylor: "There's one thing that I've always said to Max, is like "I don't like horns" I just always had a thing about it, I was always like weirdly scared of it, or intimidated by horns, I don't know what it was? It's a weird, like, nerdy studio fear of mine. I was like "No, no horns!" and I don't.. I don't even know, I don't have a reason for it, I love songs that have horns on them, I was just like "I don't think I can pull off horns." Strange. But, he goes over to the mellotron and he starts playing this horn sound. I'm like "What are you doing. Don't do that." and he's like, "No, I think this is cool" and I'm like "No it's not cool, and where are your chorus chords, because, that, you're just playing three chords over and over again and I can't make a chorus out of them, why don't you go to like a chorus chord that starts off the chorus, where is the one, like why don't you go--" and then there was this moment, where I thought of the whole chorus, and it's over the chords that I had just told him are not "chorus chords", which is a ridiculous thing to say."

February 18, 2014: Taylor is photographed entering Conway Studios

Style: Feb 19, 2014 (Confirmed)

Niklas Ljungfelt (guitarist): I played on “Style,” a song I started with Ali Payami for ourselves. He was playing it for Max Martin at his studio; Taylor overheard it and loved it. She and Max wrote new lyrics. But I recorded the guitar on it before it was a Taylor song. It was an instrumental. I didn’t have a clue that Taylor would sing on it. The inspiration came from Daft Punk and funky electronic music. Taylor: I'm pretty sure after we finished this one I knew the record was done. Shake It Off and Style were the last two songs to be written for 1989.

March 2014: Taylor's interview with Glamour is published (likely conducted two months beforehand)

TS: Working on this album has been unbelievable [...] I'm already in love with it. It's so different. CL: What's the new sound? TS: On Red I did three songs with Max Martin Shellback [...] I think we'll be doing a lot more than three songs together on the next album [Laughs].

March 26, 2014: Taylor is photographed entering a music studio in New York

May 30, 2014: Taylor writes in her diary:

So a crazy story unfolded in the last 24 hours. Last night, I had this vivid dream where the photo I’d chosen for the album cover wasn’t good enough, intriguing enough, artful enough. It woke me up. I couldn’t shake it and it stayed with me all day. Because that nagging feeling I’d been pushing back for weeks was now confirmed in my gut … It wasn’t good enough. I went to the venue, mind racing, wondering if I’d have to do an entirely new photo shoot … I got to my dressing room with newer versions of the “cover.” I looked at it and felt nothing. The team pulled up this new scanned file of the Polaroids we had taken during the shoot. I saw within 10 seconds. The shot. The cover. It’s a Polaroid of me sitting against a beige wall with a blue seagull swear shirt on. You can see my red lips, but the photo cuts off my eyes. From some reason unknown to me, it’s the most intriguing photo I’ve seen. I think it’s the mystery of not seeing my eyes. Maybe it just looks effortlessly cool. The craziest moment came when something caught my eye. The cover photo is photo 13. I kid you not.

August 23, 2014: Taylor is photographed walking out of a studio in LA (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio.)

Now That We Don't Talk: Summer 2014 (Speculation)

Seeing as Taylor said she didn't have time to figure out the production, I imagine this came fairly late in the process. Taylor has a habit of adding songs right up to the deadline-- with Folklore and Evermore, she added multiple songs a week before the album came out. The latest she added songs to albums while signed to Big Machine was September, though (both Forever & Always and So It Goes...), so I assume that's the absolute latest she could've added a song. Taylor: "Now That We Don’t Talk” is one of my favorite songs that was left behind, it was so hard to leave it behind, but I think we wrote it a little bit towards the end of the process and we couldn’t get the production right at the time. But we had tons of time to perfect the production this time and figure out what we wanted this song to sound like. I think it’s the shortest song I’ve ever had, but I think it packs a punch, I think it really goes in. For the short amount of time we have, I think it makes its point.

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#txt*#timeline*#taylor swift #OH MY GOD ITS OUT ITS OUT ITS OUT I'VE BEEN RESEARCHING THIS FOR THREE YEARS AND IT'S DONE #!!!!!#as always let me know if you want further sourcing on anything/if you spot a typo or something

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chrollohearttags · 3 months

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bestie i love your version of eren sm!!!! could you give like a deep dive on his personality and his hobbies? i'm so obsessed and i can't get enough, i've been listening to the ej core playlist on repeat! tysm for writing him so well he's such a comfort

thank you sm bestie!!! I can’t believe somebody else actually listens to it besides me!! But of course I can 🥹 I’ve missed him so bad.

so I’ve talked about this forever ago but eren was always a very introverted person. Even as a kid, he stayed to himself and he just struggled with interacting with people. But mainly because he just loved music over everything else so he shut out the rest of the world. He had Mikasa and Armin for a little while but they were also the kids of famous billionaires so they moved around and were gone once he became a teenager. Eren used to despise small talk and had lowkey terrible communication skills (still love him though! 😭). But he��s honestly just not used to having people around him that he could truly relate to. Another thing about him, even though he left home really young, he is a mama’s boy! He and miss Carla are best friends and he don’t play about her. She has songs with voicemails of her hyping him up on it. She comes to his shows and y’all know Mrs. Jaeger is a baddie so she gets mistaken for his sister or his fans will try to get with her lmao!! His dad on the other hand? Not so much and it’s been hard for him to mend their relationship (for reasons coming in the later chapters). It’s affected a lot of his adult life but he doesn’t like to talk about it much. Which made him really guarded. He started putting all his feelings into his art to help not only himself but others heal. So many fans hear his music and says it’s helped them through the hardest times. To his core though, Eren is truly a sweetheart. Behind his black clothes and nail polish, all the jewelry and emo look, he’s so nice and is also very sensitive. It may take him a while to open up (and trust, he will damn near push you away) but he is such a loverboy to his core. He’s a natural protector and will go to the end of the earth for the ones he adores. Someone said that (y/n) truly healed his inner child and I agree 😭

As far as his hobbies, outside of music of course..he LOVESSS cars! Specifically older muscle cars. He goes to car shows and races all the time. Fans will spot him and ask him for autographs, whole time he’s geeking out over the different motors and vehicle types. He tinkers with old ones and tries to fix them too. He also has a CRAZY collection of new and vintage that’s worth millions. He loves drawing and has actually drawn a lot of the tattoos he has. Like his dragon piece, one he designed for (y/n) and a couple others. He’s an all around creative and he has to be doing something all the time. He’s also big into video games and he and his friends stream on Twitch.

#cherry’s asks 🍒#nonnies 🍒🌹#my lore on this man is never ending sorry 😭#but yeah #I hope this kinda explains him better #eren x black fem!reader #aot x black reader #eren jaeger #aot au #aot eren #eren yeager #attack on titan #attack on titan au #musician x influencer au #musician au #character lore #character backstory #modern au

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sh1-n0bu · 9 months

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Omg hello fellow lumine main!

I don't know if you watched the recent Xiao teaser but i got inspired by it so if it's okay with you can you write an angsty scenario about this:

After fighting with the "evil" Xiao, Xiao feels extremely tired and after walking for a while he bumps into you in a deserted field he then confuses/ hallucinates as if you are his evil self so he starts choking you(?) tries to attack you(?) And no matter what you say your words doesn't reach his ears and he snaps out of it only when Zhongli calls his name when he happened to be passing by

Hope this is not too specific! Feel free to change any part that you don't like and it could end with whatever genre you want whether it's angst or angst with fluff!! Thank you and please ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<33

✿ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙖 ✿

characters: xiao x nb!reader

warnings: angst, slight spoilers to xiao’s backstory, hurt/no comfort, fighting, descriptions of blood and canon violence, confession, big ouchies, major character death

notes: just wanna add that the reader doesn’t have a vision! since you didn’t specify the reader’s gender, i went with the “you” pronouns thing. also hiii❗️fellow lumine main❗️(ps: i wanted it to be different but my mitski’s playlist hurt me)

karmic debt is something that all yakshas bear in their lifetime until their timely demise. it is a collection of their evil deeds, of slaying demons, of taking the life of a corrupted being. of tainting one’s hand with blood whether that blood was already tainted or not.

out of five yakshas that guarded liyue and kept the land of any evil, three had died. minds corrupted by their own karmic debts, hearts shattered by the ones they once used to call a family, bodies torn apart, leaving behind only ashes with nothing to bury and reminisce about in the future. while one had disappeared without a trace.

out of five, only one remains.

and that one would sooner or later fall into his own karmic debt as well. it was only a matter of time. however, there was a small glimmer of hope in the yaksha’s tainted heart. a small glimmer in the shape of you.

sweet, loving you in all your glory who first met the legend of a being when he protected you from a mitachurl. kind, gentle you who thanked him later at the wangshu inn with a plate of hand-made almond tofu with a small offering at the side. thoughtful you who kept appearing every once in a while at the balcony, talking out loud to him about your day, your latest travels and business trades, knowing full well he was listening.

passionate you who gleefully accepted him with open arms when he first decided to sit beside you to hear about your day. understanding you who kept your distance when he warned you of his karmic debt, respectful of his wishes.

and the idiotic clumsy you who would sometimes trip over on the way up the stairs. who would smile at him with the same smile, calling out his name with a scratched hand or forehead. who would brush it off as something small and mediocre.

but the yaksha hated that you would always say your injuries are mediocre and “nothing to worry about”.

of course he would worry. you were one of the few people in his life that he held dear in his heart. one of the few who accepted him, karmic debt, dirty hands, tainted heart and all. the only one… he ended up falling in love with.

“if one day, this karmic debt that binds my soul becomes too much and i no longer can tell the difference between friend or a foe, call upon mister zhongli or the traveler. they’ll get rid of me before i can harm anyone” was something that the lonely yaksha would remind you often.

“it’s fine. that won’t ever happen” you would console him, hands weaving a flower crown together from the qingxin flowers he picked up for you.

“because i’ll be there to knock some sense into you” was your sweet promise as you would place the flower crown atop his head with a smile.

he always found it meaningless that you would weave the flowers into something as useless as a flower crown. but he couldn’t bring himself to ever take it off or throw it away, even after the flowers have dried up and he would pick up the fallen petals, storing them in a glass. he loved how even in death, without nourishments, the petals would continue to keep their beauty.

perhaps that’s why he always brought you flower bouquets back. ones made from random flowers. sweet flowers, glaze lilies, qingxin, silk flowers — he always brings back a flower for you whenever you visit. and on certain days when he feels an odd emotion gripping his heart, unable to tear his gaze away from you as you look at the setting sun, his gloved hand would slowly reach out, tucking one of the flowers behind your ear.

“pretty…” the lonely immortal would whisper without notice. only when you glance at him with a smile, would the yaksha realize what he had done, turn beet red and teleport away. too shy to confront his feelings, too conflicted to stay beside you, too afraid of your mortality.

there are so many times when xiao fears for your mortality.

the times when he feels his karma gripping his heart. hand clutching his jade spear tight to the point he fears he would break the weapon. blurry figures in his sight, muffled voices in his ears, an annoying high pitched ringing in his head.

it was just supposed to be another night. another night of keeping liyue safe. another night of banishing demons and abyss mages, mitachurls, what nots.

and yet it drained him so greatly. when was the last time he had ever felt this exhausted? down right almost collapsing right then and there in the fields of liyue? muscles straining, dragging his feet, vision blurry — the yaksha was exhausted.

amidst the chaos of the voices screeching in his head, demanding more blood, more death and sacrifices, xiao finds himself staring back at a familiar mask. his own mask. himself. or what kind of a twisted joke of himself it was.

their speed was evenly matched. spear swings and thrusts sharp, aimed at his weakest parts, the same feeling of adrenaline pumping as he fights against his own self. with some sort of blind luck or fate, the yaksha manages to make his other self kneel. a single plummet of his jade spear to the heart was all it took for the illusion to disappear.

this was a tiring night. xiao just wanted to go back to wangshu inn and collapse in your arms. you always had a soothing presence that quelled the karma in him.

“xiao?” a voice sounds from behind him. turning back to look at the person who spoke the immortal’s name, he finds himself growing enraged. another look alike of himself.

this was getting tiring.

and yet when the yaksha slipped on his mask and attacked, something was weird. this illusion was slower, weaker, never attacking back and he would almost daresay, felt wrong to fight against.

it didn’t took long for the seasoned fighter to leave a nasty cut on the illusion’s side, almost plunging his spear through their ribcage. he’d just have to try a bit harder then.

xiao wanted nothing more than to go back to you. to feel your arms around him. to feel your hands run through his hair, rambling on about your day or just simply choosing to stay quiet. either way, the lonely immortal loved it. he wanted to go back to you. to your loving embrace. sweet smiles. little nods when he whispered about somethings he wanted.

xiao just wanted to be with you.

just your presence alone was enough for him. he would savor the warmth your skin excludes as he sits beside you on the balcony. cherish every little moment you would spend with him. treasure the small gifts and the almond tofu you would make for him.

and yet why was it that such a familiar hand was touching his own gloved one when he finally drove his jade spear through the illusion’s chest.

it was only then the illuminated bird noticed.

there was no second ‘illusion’. there was no need to fight against the voice that called out to him. for it was you. for it was the one person he cherished the most. for it was his beloved that was now bleeding out, blood tainting the tips of his spear, warm hand covering his own gloved one. warmth that was so quickly fading away.

his beloved… that he killed.

taking his spear out, xiao moved quickly to catch your falling body. the warmth that your hug gives him, the comfort he feels now being replaced by the warmth of your blood.

“no. no no no no, h-hang on. i’ll get you to liyue harbor” what was he saying? it was no use. he had already pierced your heart straight through, there was no hope for you. but xiao wanted there to be one. xiao wanted you to stay alive so he can confess to you. xiao wanted you to live, wanted to taste your hand made almond tofu again, wanted to put flowers in your hair.

xiao wanted to spend his tomorrows with you.

“don’t. we both know i won’t make it” your voice calls out. weak, hoarse, tired. you were bleeding. eyes dull, losing life, losing it’s shine. you were dying and it was all his fault.

“please… please don’t go” the yaksha didn’t knew he was crying until his tears landed on your face. even when bleeding out, even when dying, you still smiled. and by the archons, you were still beautiful even as you lay dying in his arms.

“please don’t go. i love you too much to let you go…” the yaksha sniffled, sobs coming out as he holds you in his arms.

it was just like how you two would lay on the rooftops of wangshu inn. watching the stars, the cloud move by, pointing out the shapes as you two enjoy each other’s presence.

except the warmth that came from your body was now the warmth of your blood gushing out, staining his clothes. the smile you used to give him now dead, stoic, almost like a puppet’s forced smile. the bright shine of life that was once in your perfect [color], dull like a matted blood.

“i wanted to spend my tomorrows with you…”

#nobu.writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader angst #genshin x reader angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x reader angst #xiao angst #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #and yes i quoted trigun

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muns-quinn · 3 months

Text

Life After Dark

Part one - part two here

Eddie Munson x stevessister!reader

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), weed, alcohol, language

A/N: I’m completely out of my element since I haven’t written in agesssss so I apologize in advance lmao it isn’t my best work. It’s more of a slow burn at first but it’ll get there eventually. I probably won’t publish my work as fast as I did previously because of my schedule and I also just want to enjoy writing because I want to do it. I apologize in advance for any mistakes, typos, anything that doesn’t make sense, etc. Also, this will be a series so this is part one!

Playlist that I listened to/made up while writing this.

Being a Harrington wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Everyone knew your family, it started from your parents and then your older brother Steve added onto that during his high school years. The family name was truly something that nobody could forget and you had to live up to it to the best of your abilities.

Though you had your differences and fought with each other like any other sibling group, you were close. You shared some of the same friends, been through things together that others normally wouldn’t, but most importantly you protected each other in any way you could.

The sound of the cold spring rain hit against your ceiling and the scent of your freshly washed hair flows through your nostrils as you hear your parents bickering back and forth, getting louder with each sentence. You run your brush through your hair and place it onto your nightstand before turning your doorknob and walking downstairs. There was half a pot of coffee left over in the kitchen and there was a pile of dirty dishes left in the sink, what a fantastic way to start your day.

“I think you’ve got more than enough packed for the week.” You hear your dad grumble from the top of the stairs, dragging down their suitcases.

“I don’t think you’ve packed near enough.” Your mom replied as she follows him down the steps.

Another thing about you and Steve was the fact that you practically had to raise yourselves. Your parents were extremely respected in town, however they were barely home because of their out of town business meetings. They’re usually gone from days to weeks on end because of the company, yet they always give the two of you specific rules to follow.

“Make sure the both of you are in the house by 11.” Your mom orders you, both of her hands full with bags filled with her things.

“Mhm.” You agreed absentmindedly, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Nobody’s staying over either. He goes to work, you do your volunteer work, and you both get home. Got it?” Your dad adds.

“Got it.” You mutter, taking a sip.

They quickly rush out of the door, your dad closing it with a slam and the house goes to complete silence again. The peaceful sound you’ve grown to love and appreciate over the years, the sound of positivity and pure bliss from your chaotic life.

Steve walks down the stairs still half asleep, his hair an absolute mess and his eyes barely open. He makes his way to the coffee pot, pouring what’s left of it in his individual mug. You finish yours off before placing it with the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink, dreading the clean up once you get home.

“What time’s your shift?” You question him.

“10-7.” He grumbles tiredly. “Ah shit, you’ve got that volunteer work this week don’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m sure I can walk home, just need you to take me there since it’s raining if that’s alright.” You explain.

“Yeah that’s fine, when do you have to leave?”

“In abouttttt… 8 minutes.” You mention as you glance over to the clock.

9:28 am

Shit. Steve was going to be late for work if he didn’t hurry. He leaves his mug on the counter and zooms past you and up the stairs, immediately running into his room to get ready for his shift. You place his mug in the same sink and walk over to your front door and grab your shoes before sliding them on and tying the shoe laces. You hear Steve complaining and expressing profanities, occasionally hearing the sound of something falling over and hitting the ground as he runs around.

“In the car!” He urges as he runs down the stairs.

You follow his directions and rush outside and to the car, hopping in the front seat and buckling in. He locked the front door and ran to the drivers side, jumping in and scurrying onto the road.

“Library, right?” He verified.

“You would be correct.” You nod.

In order to graduate Hawkins High, you had to have 20 hours of volunteer work before the end of the spring semester. As always, you waited until the last second to choose where you wanted to volunteer so the only open available slots were at the library. You didn’t mind, you’ve been there plenty of times and enjoyed the silence it offered, so it could have gotten worse. With that being said, you also waited until the last second to begin with your volunteer work so you had to volunteer for the entirety of your spring break.

Steve sped through town in order to get to work on time since he was on his last strike and didn’t want to lose his job. He shows up at the library, barely stopping the car to allow you out before he drives back off down the road. The rain was beating down onto your hair as you run inside, the cool air fanning your face as you walk inside of the library. You stroll over to the front desk, finding the sign in sheet for the volunteer work and you sign your name.

“Good to see you again, sweetie.” The older woman smiles at you as she turns around, you smile back in reply.

“What can I help you with today?” You ask, she looks around at the empty library, jotting down a to do list on a small sheet of paper.

• Reorganize the non-fiction section by author name

• Retape magazines that are falling apart

• Wipe down any surface with dust

• Reorganize the fiction section by author name

The list was nearly endless, but you took it with a smile anyway.

“If you need any help, you know where to find me.” She winks, her glasses showing your reflection back to you.

“Thank you, Alorie.” You nod, turning on your heels and walking over to the non-fiction section.

You kneel in front of the first bookcase that catches your eye, looking at the unorganized mess of books. If you come into a library, at least have the decency to put the books back in the correct order you think to yourself. You begin to move the books around but figured that it would be easier to take each book off the shelf and put them in correctly one at a time. You knew it was going to be an incredibly long 5 hours.

Shortly after you begin working on your to do list, people of all ages started to flood into the library. The younger children were squealing as they tossed around books that you knew you were going to have to fix, teachers from school came to drop off books they read in their free time, and others arrived just so they could get out of the rain.

Once the first task was done, you moved on to the second, retaping the ripped magazines. Alorie hands you the tape to use, you take it and walk over to the magazine stand. You sigh to yourself as you look at all of the torn pages but it had to get done. You sit in front of the stand and grab one of the magazines, finding the pages that needed to be fixed. Once you had finished that, you flipped back through it to ensure that you hadn’t missed anything. This pattern continued for quite some time with others. You grab the last magazine that laid on the floor, taping the cover. There wasn’t much of wear and tear on the magazine that you could see, but you triple checked each page to be sure.

A few hours had passed, you’ve finished nearly half of the tasks on your to do list and you see a group of little kids running into the library with their parents. You glance up at the clock that hung on the wall and it read 11:42, meaning that it was nearly time for afternoon reading. Every day the library held story hour at noon and at 3:00, you always read for the afternoon group when you were there and Alorie took over the 3:00 group.

You fold the list and slide it in your pocket, greeting the kids and their parents. You grab the book on the display shelf before walking over to the reading corner. While the children and the parents find their spots on the floor, you sit in the chair in front of the group.

“Alright guys, today’s book is If You Gave a Mouse a Cookie. Who’s read this book? Raise your hand as hiiiigh as you can for me!” You announce, over half of the group raise their tiny hands and you smile.

You begin to read the book, other people join the group a little late but they hadn’t missed much since you were only a few pages in. You enjoyed storytelling, especially to smaller kids because it reminded you of when your childhood was good.

After you read the book, Alorie calls the kids over to the group of tables in the middle of the library to color the pages she made copies of that went along with the book. You tidy up the area that you read at, putting back the chair and the book and picking up any trash that was left over.

“I didn’t know that Harrington’s read.” You hear someone say, startling you as your back was turned towards them.

You turn around and see the person who snuck up on you, it was non other than Eddie Munson. He was your brother’s best friend, only a year and a half older than you. He had been at your house numerous times while your parents were out of town, been through insane situations with Steve, he was someone that you shared friends with although you two weren’t incredibly close yourselves.

“Don’t sneak up on people like that.” You breathe out.

“You Harrington’s are so easy to startle.” Eddie snickers.

“Why are you here? I thought you hated the library.” You question as you continue picking up.

“Well you aren’t wrong but I have to get in my volunteer hours if I plan getting out of that hellhole anytime soon.” He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I told him that you had the list!” Alorie mentions across the library.

You nod as you understood, he would basically be shadowing you for the day. You knew he wasn’t much for working, especially when it comes to volunteering for something he had absolutely zero interest in. You take the list from your pocket, looking at the things you had left.

“So you waited until the last second to start your volunteering?” You ask.

“Seems like you did too.” He shrugs, looking around the library.

“Not my fault.” You mumble as you continue looking at your list. “You can go ahead and start with dusting.”

You point him to the cleaning tools, he gives you a look before marching his way behind the Alorie’s desk and grabbing the duster. He takes his sweet time to begin the task you assigned him with but you moved on to organizing and rearranging the fiction section of the library.

As you begin to take the books off of the shelf, Alorie leaves the group of kids and walks over to you.

“So I have a few options for you.” She whispers, confusion written across your face. “About your volunteer time.”

“Oh! Okay?”

“So, you can do 10 hours today, I’ll give you the key to lockup early and all you have to do is come in tomorrow for story hour and I’ll say you did your entire 20 hours.” She proposes. “Or you can just continue to come in each day for a few hours.”

It was a good deal. Normally you’d opt in to come each day for your hours and then some but your parents weren’t home so you could easily do the first option. However, you parents knew to check in with Alorie to see if you were actually where you were supposed to be.

“Alorie-”

“It’s spring break and it’s your senior year. You need a break. I won’t tell if you don’t.” She winks, you grin.

“Clean around and lock up like normal?”

“Exactly. Tell him that goes for him too, I’m feeling generous.” She suggests, nodding her head over to Eddie who finally decided to clean.

You thank her and agree on the first option. It wasn’t abnormal for you to lockup after hours once she had went home, you had a trusted bond with one another. You were basically an employee without pay, which you didn’t mind at all, you enjoyed helping her around the library when you could.

You went back to organizing the bookcases, piling each book on the floor so it would be easier to put them in by authors name and the order in which they go in for one’s that were parts of a series. Eddie continued to clean areas with visible dust around the library for quite some time, eventually leading over to the bookcase that you were currently working on.

“Alorie suggested that we stay for 10 hours today and come in for story hour tomorrow and she’ll sign off that we did our 20 hours.” You mention up at him. “Or you can come in each day and actually do your hours.”

“I’ve got a show tonight.” He declines, glancing down at you while he continues to clean. “Besides, I don’t wanna be in here longer than I have to.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrug. “I’m staying until 8.”

That was the end of the conversation, short and simple. It was unusual for him to not talk as much as normal, he constantly talked at your house or during school. Maybe it was because he was in a library and had some manners? You were unsure.

The second reading group came piling through the doors, most being second and third graders who were obnoxiously noisy and never cleaned up after themselves.

“Quiet, we’re in a library!” Alorie whispers to them, placing her index finger on her lips, the kids copying her body movement.

You place the books in their respective places before getting off of your knees. You walk over to the printer and grab the coloring pages for Alorie, putting them in the middle of the tables with crayons for the kids to color after the book had been read like previous.

“So, do kids just come here to listen to a book?” Eddie asks as you walk back over to the bookcase.

“Most days, yes. Then the older kids have a discussion about the book and color. Some days the library does different educational things, especially when it comes to science.” You explain with your back turned away from him. “For the smaller ones, they just come in for a quick story time and color. The older ones are a lot messier though.”

“I can see that. I’d hate to be you tonight.” He snickers. “What’s the next thing on your list?”

“Let me see.” You hum, pulling out the to do list. “I’ve done most of these already.”

Eddie peers over your shoulder, trying to find the one that has the least amount of work.

“She just got a new shipment of paperback books if you want to put those out.” You suggest and he hums. “I’ll show you where they’re at.”

You motion him to follow you, you go in the back room where there were tons of boxes lined up against the wall and stacked on one another. You open the first box and carry it into the main room, Eddie continues to follow you over to the fiction section. You tell him what order they need to be placed in and where to toss the boxes when he’s done.

Some time had passed, the kids from story hour had finished having their discussion on the book Alorie had read to them and colored.

“I need to know what he’s doing.” Alorie mentions as she pulls the library key out of her purse. “Is he staying longer or coming in each day?”

“He’s leaving.” You explain to her, taking the key in your hand.

“Alright, just be sure that he logs his time correctly and be sure that everything’s locked.” She orders. “Bye sweetie.”

“See you tomorrow.” You smile at her while she walks out of the library.

The two of you continue working on putting the books in the correct spot in silence, the only sounds were the books hitting the shelves and the clinking of his chains.

“It’s 4:00, you know.” You mention after silence, glancing up at the clock. “You can leave.”

“Oh, thanks.” Was all he said before immediately heading out of the doors.

Not even a bye, see you later, do you need any help, nothing. You weren’t surprised, it was Eddie you were talking about here, the guy who only thought of himself. That’s why you often butted heads, he only thought of himself and you thought of everyone else other than yourself. You sigh quietly, unsure if you made the right choice since there was a lot more to do.

Better for it to take a while and have it all be done correctly than incorrect you think to yourself.

You walk over to the radio that was beside the computer and turn it on, flipping through the channels until you’re content with a channel to listen to in order to pass the time.

You take a look at your surroundings, trash was still all over the floor and the tables from the kids. It was going to be a long 4 hours with nobody’s help. You begin to pick up all of the trash and throwing it in the trash can, as well as your to do list since you no longer needed it.

You continue picking up and putting books on shelves, the time ticking excruciatingly slow as you began to grow bored with your tasks. You needed some sort of break so you pick out a VHS tape from the movie cart, popping it into the VHS player. You dimmed the lights, not bothering to draw the curtains since the rain made the sky cloudy and dark as you sit comfortably in a beanbag and begin to watch The Breakfast Club to pass some of the time.

“Seems like you really got a lot done.” You hear a voice boom through the library, jolting you awake.

You weren’t aware of what time it was, what day it was, who was in the library, you hadn’t even known that you fell asleep. You quickly jump up and turn around, your eyes meeting Eddie’s, giving you some sort of relief but also terror since you had fallen asleep without locking the door. If Alorie found out, you’d probably be dead.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout as you march over to the light switch, turning the lights on. “Stop scaring me!”

“Relax, I just forgot to sign out.” He snickers, walking to the desk and putting the time he had originally left.

8:47 read the analog clock. You were asleep for at least 2 hours and still hadn’t got much done at all.

“Ah shit.” You mumble to yourself, quickly popping the VHS tape in the box and putting it back on the cart. “I can’t believe I fell asleep and forgot to lock the door. I still have a ton left to do.”

“Well you should probably get home before anything, it’s supposed to get worse out.” He sighs.

“Yeah, I’ll get to it.” You ramble as you quickly clean up.

“Alright, well I’ve got a gig to get to. Tell your brother I’m coming over later.” He announces, walking backwards out of the door.

Again, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come over for a few hours after Steve was home from work, but you still had to clean when you got home. You hear the sound of his van peel out of the parking lot, you decided to call it a night. Once everything was put away and clean, you head out of the library and lock the door behind you and began your journey home.

You had originally thought that the rain would stop or die down at least but you were horribly wrong. If anything, the rain and wind picked up harder. You didn’t have a hoodie or an umbrella and Steve couldn’t pick you up. It was miserable.

Many cars passed you, some drenching you in the puddles on the street and nobody stopped. You still had 4 more miles to walk in the rain with no end in sight. What started as a walk end up being a full sprint to get home faster. Your legs were beginning to give up on you, you were soaked through your clothes, your shoes were beginning to give you a blister, you were miserable.

You finally see a building with lights on and a few cars surrounding it, the perfect spot for a break for now. You cautiously get to the front door, pulling it open and allowing yourself to walk inside. It was warm and dry but the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flooded in your nose. You take a look around, not many people were inside but it was loud and chaotic and you don’t recognize a single person.

“Y/N?” You hear from across the room and once again there stood Eddie.

Well, you recognized one person.

“You just couldn’t get enough of me, could you?” He snickers, trotting over towards you.

“Just walking home, needed a break.” You explain. “But by the looks of it, I’m not necessarily the type to be welcomed here so I’m gonna head out-”

“Do you need a ride?” He offers, you reluctantly agree and he nods to you. “I’ll be back, you guys just warm up.”

He holds the door open for you, allowing you to step outside and he follows behind. He unlocks the van and gets in the drivers seat, he opens the passenger door from inside and pushes it for you to grab onto. You climb in the seat, the water from your clothes soaking into the velvet texture of the seats.

“Thank you.” You sigh, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah yeah, don’t think this is going to continue happening.” He brushes off as he turns on the ignition and putting the van into gear. “Thought you had a ride?”

You shrug and recline in the passenger seat. It was one thing for the two of you to be alone in the library, but in the car? Incredibly different.

He drives silently, the rain making it near impossible for him to see out of the windshield. You watch outside of the window as he drives down the road, nearing your home. You finally spot your porch light and he pulls into the driveway, you thank him before running out into the rain. You pull out your house keys and stick it in the lock, turning it and opening your front door.

Once you walk inside, you lock the door behind you and kick off your shoes. You run upstairs and peel off your dripping clothes and dry off with a towel before putting on clean pajamas. You’ve never been happier to be so dry in your life.

When you walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, you clean up the stuff your parents had left behind before leaving for the week and all of the dishes. You were growing irritated with how much trash is yours and how much trash is everyone else’s, they never picked up after themselves.

An hour and a half had passed, it was nearly 12 and there was no sign of Steve coming home anytime soon. You knew how crazy the video store would get on spring break but he had been gone all day, your mind was telling you something was wrong but you didn’t want to think about that. You couldn’t stress yourself out over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

A knock on the door catches you off guard and wipes you away from your deep thought. You walk over to the front door and peek outside from the glass and you see Eddie again for what felt like the hundredth time today.

“He’s not home yet.” You mention, holding back the worry that threatened to come out of your throat.

“No worries.” He shrugs, pushing past you and allowing himself in.

If there was one thing that Steve was strict about, it was about you hanging out with his guy friends one on one. The reason behind that was because of the situation that blossomed between you and Tommy before he and Carol were a thing. You and him were introduced by Steve when he would come over to your house nearly every day, you started off as friends yourselves and then you hooked up. After that, it turned to a shit show. You began dating but he cheated on you every single second he could, he told the entire school that you were a slut, he and Steve got into a huge fight. It was a disaster. So now, you couldn’t really hang out with his friends one on one.

Eddie kicks off his shoes and shimmies his jacket off, hanging it on the coatrack before making himself comfortable in your own home. Just like clockwork, the phone rang.

“Hello?” You answer.

“It’s me, a tree blocked off the road so I won’t be home for a while.” Steve says into the receiver.

“Where are you now?”

“Came back to Family Video. The power got backed up by a generator so I’ll be fine. Make sure you get some candles or a flashlight or something in case the power goes out there.”

“Okay. Do you know when you’ll be home?”

“Not a single clue.” Steve hums into the phone. “Alright, I’ll be home later.”

You put the phone up and Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“It was Steve. A tree fell and blocked off the road because of the storm so he won’t be home until later.” You relay and he gives a quiet ah.

You go upstairs and into your parents’ bedroom closet, raiding it for flashlights and candles. You found a single candle in there so you looked in the top of your own closet and found another, two was better than one in case anything were to happen.

You and Eddie sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching the television in silence. It was incredibly awkward as you both sit and wait for Steve, so you excuse yourself to your bedroom.

1:09 am

You lay on your bed watching your own tv for an hour, the booms of the thunder being impossible to ignore as you try to sleep with the background noise. The tv flickers and it turns off, followed by everything else in the house. You groan to yourself with your eyes closed.

You hear footsteps coming closer to your door and you hear Eddie knock quietly. You toss off your blanket and walk over to the door.

“You brought both of the candles up here.” He chuckles when you open the door.

“Shit, sorry.” You apologize, turning around to grab one of the candles.

“You’re fine. Trying to sleep?”

“Yeah but it’s impossible.” You sigh, handing him a candle. “No sign of Steve?”

“None.”

You move past him and walk down the stairs, he follows behind you the best he could in the dark. The only sense of light either of you truly had was the lightening that flashed through the glass windows.

“Well it seems like we’ll be up for the rest of the night.” You mention.

“We get to hangout outside of the library, how cool.” Eddie mockingly gasps, pulling a quick snicker from you. “And I made you laugh? Geez Harrington, I really think you’re beginning to like me.”

“Oh calm down Munson, you made a joke.” You replied, he was taken aback from the use of his last name. He was used to Steve using it but you? That’s different.

“What should we do to pass time?” He queried.

“I don’t know about you, but I plan on reading.” You advise, lighting the candles.

“Reading? Really? You just spent the entire day at the library.”

“Nothing else to really do.” You shrug.

He pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“You live in your parents’ home, Steve throws tons of parties. You have alcohol, a pool, everything!”

“Not sure if the pool is good for right now considering the circumstances outside.” You chuckle.

“Well you know what I mean.” He laughed. “C’mon, live a little.”

You look at him with a brow raised, his eyes begging for some sort of amusement. You knew you weren’t going to win the non-vocal competition so you gave in regardless. You roll your eyes and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka that was stashed away.

You’ve drank together before. Obviously with a larger group, not by yourselves, but you were comfortable enough. Besides, you were bored yourself.

“Here goes nothing.” You smile as you pour yourselves a shot a piece, clinking the glasses together and throwing the alcohol down your throats. “Jesus it never gets easier.”

You were a few shots in a piece, the awkwardness between the two of you quickly diminished. While trying to figure out what to do to help keep you entertained while drinking, you both agreed on a game to know each other a bit better. You ripped up a piece of paper into tiny bits and each of you wrote down different questions for each other to answer.

You both made up the rules, it was almost like truth or dare. One draws a question and if they refuse to answer, they drink. However, if someone draws a question and answers, the other person has to drink. You weren’t great at making up games on the spot, neither was he, but it was something that you would work on.

“Okay, who draws first?” You ask and he thinks.

“Rock paper scissors?” He suggests and you agree immediately.

He lost and had to draw first, excitement was building up in you at the unknown. He closes his eyes and runs his fingers through the tiny folded pieces of paper in the bowl until he lands on one. He pulls it out and opens his eyes, struggling to make out the words on the page.

“What’s is… your favorite song.” He reads aloud. “Run to the Hills, easily.”

He moves the bowl in front of you after you take a drink. You copy him, closing your eyes and roaming your fingers around the pages until you pull one out.

“What’s your biggest regret? That’s a good one.” You think for a moment. “Don’t really have any. Everything happens for a reason.”

“No, that doesn’t count!” He cackles, calling you out. “You have to answer.”

“That is an answer!” You protest with a grin, he shakes his head. “Ughhhh.”

You take another drink of the alcohol in your cup. It was an answer, just not one that he wanted.

“Who was your first kiss? Really? You have lame questions. But if I have to answer, it was Elaine Dotinson.” He snickers, you roll your eyes and take yet another drink of the beverage.

“What was your longest relationship?” You read, your eyes fixating on his face. “What kind of question?”

“Just two people getting to know each other a little better.” He cheeses. “Unless you want to drink again.”

You roll your eyes.

“4 months.” You mumble, you see him open his mouth to say something. “That is an answer, you didn’t ask who it was. Drink up.”

“Why are you so quiet all the time?” He questions after taking a drink.

“That’s not a question from the pile.”

“Forget the pile for a moment, it’s a genuine question.” He presses. “Do you not like being around me or something?”

You pause for a moment and think. The alcohol was beginning to hit you at the moment and so were the questions.

“It’s not that. We just have different interests and we can’t really spend time together to get to know each other. Like, really get to know each other.” You explained.

“Why can’t we?”

“Because you’re Steve’s best friend. I’m the little sister, we’re off limits to each other.”

“Off limits? Aren’t you an adult?”

“Well yeah b-”

“Who makes those limits? You, him, mommy, daddy?” He interrupts, his voice getting quieter with each word.

You can’t reply. You just sit there observing his face with the flickering candle light, his eyes grown soft yet stern.

“If you actually get to know me, you’ll learn that we have more of the same interests than you might think.”

Before you could attempt to respond, the power comes back on and the phone immediately rings. You both look at each other until you answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“It’s me again. Listen, I’m just going to stay over at Nancy’s for the night since I cant get home. I’ll be home tomorrow, just be sure to lock the doors before you go to sleep.”

“Okay, be safe. I’ll see you.” You say, telling him goodbye and answering the phone.

You turn back around and face Eddie.

“Well, seems like you get Steve’s room tonight. He can’t get home so he’s staying with Nancy for the night.” You voice, sitting back in your spot on the floor. “Shall we continue?”

“We shall.”

3:18 am. The two of you continued your little game, asking questions that weren’t even on the pieces of paper, nearly emptying the vodka bottle and everything was beginning to spin.

You had gotten to know each other pretty well within the past few hours to say the least. He told you about his goals of being a rockstar after graduation, about his parents, his interests. He learned about your relationship between you and your parents, what you enjoyed to do in your free time, why you and Alorie had a close relationship. You developed a friendship.

“Jesus, don’t fall backwards.” You hear Eddie laugh as he follows you up the stairs.

“‘m tryin’!” You whine playfully, slowing crawling up the stairs as the room spins around you.

You were exhausted and the alcohol didn’t help either so you opted in to going to bed. Eddie helped you up the stairs to ensure that you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself, he held you up as you tripped over your own feet and walked you into your room.

With your bedside lamp being the only light in the room, you managed to stumble your way to your bed and practically face plant into it. You laugh as you continue to be dizzy from the room spinning, Eddie lifts your legs and pushes you even further onto the bed to prevent you from falling out.

“Thank you.” You mumble with a smile on your face as you roll onto your back, looking up at Eddie.

You see his smile, his curly hair partly covering his face as he looks down at you.

Fuck, he’s cute. Even though you were drunk, you could still appreciate beauty when you saw it.

“Anytime.” He smiles, planting a playful kiss to your forehead. “Now I’m going into Steve’s room, night!”

“Night.” You whisper back, watching as he exits out of your bedroom and closes your door.

You couldn’t think he was cute in that sort of way, it was frowned upon. That was your brothers best friend and you two had not really gotten to know each other within the past few hours.

Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him. Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him. Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him you thought to yourself. It was only the alcohol, that’s all it was.

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside of your window, the sun beats through your window blinds and into your eyes. You barely open your eyelids, your head pounding from the activities from the night before. Was Eddie still asleep? Was he even there at all?

You glance over at the clock on your nightstand, 10:45 am. You pry yourself out of bed and use the bathroom before quietly sneaking down the hall and into Steve’s room. You peak through the crack in the door and see Eddie asleep on his back, his arm covered his eyes to prevent the sunlight coming in. He was shirtless and your eyes wandered a little too long for comfort so you rip your own attention away.

You walk the opposite way down the hall and down the stairs, each creak from your footsteps sounding like the loudest sound on earth. You stroll into the kitchen Rand grab the ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet, popping a few in your mouth before washing it down with a glass of water. You clean up the mess that you and Eddie had made last night and you toss out the bottle of vodka that you two had finished.

“I can help you out.” You hear Eddie’s raspy voice boom from the top of the staircase.

“Oh it’s fine, I’ve got most of it thrown away.” You mumble quietly, trying not to make your headache any worse.

You steal a look at Eddie and the butterflies in your stomach from the night before were still there. You cursed yourself mentally, telling yourself that it was wrong, but you still found him attractive.

“You okay?” He questions once he finally stood in front of you. Fuck, you forgot to look away from him.

“Y-Yeah! Just this hangover.” You shake off, turning your attention back onto the trash in the living room.

“So I was thinking,” He announces, stretching with a slight yawn. “We can go back for your story hour today and then I can show you Skull Rock like we talked about yesterday.”

You were incredibly confused, not remembering the conversation that transpired between the two of you that he was talking about. You give him a confused look and he snickers.

“Last night you were telling me that you wanted to venture out more, get out of the shell that your parents shoved you in. You didn’t think Skull Rock was a real place and told me you wanted me to take you today.” He reminded you, some of the conversation trickling back into your consciousness.

“Oh, yeah! I totally forgot about that.” You laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Stop asking me that!” He playfully shouts. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

You look up at the clock, it was 11:15. You had 45 minutes to get ready and be at the library. Eddie cleans up around the house while you run into your room. You roam around in your closet for an outfit, deciding on a plain white blouse and torn black jeans. You didn’t bother styling your hair so you tossed it up in a ponytail and quickly ran back downstairs.

“Where’s your shirt?” You ask Eddie as he ties his shoes.

“I’ve got more in the van.” He shrugs, you didn’t say a word but nodded instead.

You make sure you lock the door behind you both and you get into the van. Eddie grabs a shirt from the back and throws it on before starting the van and pulling out into the street.

There were tree limbs scattered everywhere on the road, lawns were flooded from the storm, it was still cold out. You both pull into the library parking lot and he finds an open spot, you walk inside and dry your shoes on the rug before walking in even further. Alorie looks over at you both with a smile.

“Surprised you could make it here!” She beams. “You’re right on time too.”

“I woke up a tad late.” You snicker, pulling up a chair to the reading center.

“Eddie, right?” Alorie questions.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me.” He says, walking up to her.

“Well, Eddie. I know that Ms. Y/N here told you about the deal we made yesterday but you couldn’t stay the whole time, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.” He talks lowly, aware of the readers in the library.

You continue to get everything situated for reading hour, grabbing Chicka Chicka Boom Boom off of the shelf as they continue their conversation.

“Of course if that’s okay with her.” You hear Alorie mention, talking to you.

“Sorry I didn’t hear what you said.” You say.

“I told him that if he helps you with story hour, I’ll stick up for him too saying that he did his full 20 hours.” She suggests, Eddie gives you a small smile.

“I don’t mind!” You agree. “You wanna help with cutting out the letters?”

You hand him a pair of scissors and tracings of different letters of the alphabet that you created the day before, he takes them in his hands and gets busy while the kids come flooding in through the library doors. You and Eddie share a glance, you could tell that the kids were already beginning to get on his nerves.

“Ms. Y/N!” One of the toddlers call out as he runs your direction.

“Hi sweetheart, go find your spot on the floor with your mommy.” You wink to him after he gives you a hug.

Once everyone had settled in, you take your seat in front of the group and begin to read to them. You glance up to make sure Eddie was cutting out all of the letters once you were showing the kids the pictures, he has a slight grin on his face as he listens to you read off of the pages. The butterflies were coming back stronger and harder. You shake it off and begin reading once more when one of the kids asked you to flip the page. You finally finished the book and the kids wanted to go color, they had extremely short attention spans.

“Mr. Munson, you ready for them?” You ask across the library, he raises a brow first.

“Ready Ms. Harrington!” He answers, the kids immediately rush over to him.

Alorie takes over the coloring activity, thanking the both of you and releasing you to enjoy the rest of your spring break. You both walk outside, the smell of fresh rain making you feel refreshed before you jump back into the van.

“Skull rock?” Eddie asks, turning the ignition.

“Sounds like a plan.” You responded.

He drives onto the town road and has his radio blaring, the loud music mixed in with the headache you still had wasn’t your version of fun. He sings along to the lyrics as he continues to drive down winding roads in the middle of nowhere, eventually coming to a complete stop right at the edge of the woods.

“Yeah, this isn’t sketchy at all.” You breathe out, looking deep into the trees but you couldn’t see a thing.

“You wanted an adventure.” He shrugs, hopping out of the van. “Let’s go.”

After a moment of hesitation you follow him into the trees. The perfect ending of a horror movie you think to yourself. You duck underneath branches and move tree limbs out of your way.

“I think I may be regretting this decision, you know.” You announce as you follow behind him. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

He pauses for a moment and looks around at the trees.

“….Yes.” Eddie vocalizes, a slight unsure tone in his voice.

You immediately knew that he was going to get you both lost, however, it was all a journey. You spent for what felt like an hour walking around in circles.

“We’re lost.” You sigh to him and he shakes his head.

“It should be rightttt… here!” He shouts, bringing you to a rock. “See, maybe you should have more trust me in me.”

You look up at the rock, not entirely sure of what you were expecting but it was just a rock. Eddie jumps on top and looks down at you with his feet swinging in the air. He pats an empty spot beside him as an invitation.

You remember the words he told you last night: live a little. With that tiny push, you crawl your way up the rock and place yourself right beside him. You look out into the trees, the windchill sending a shiver down your spine.

The reason he came to the rock often was for the peace like you with the library, it was his escape away from all of the other chaos that Hawkins had to offer. As you both sit there in each other’s company while being completely silent, the rain began again.

“Ah shit.” Eddie hisses as he feels the rain beating down on him.

“Just great.” You huff, looking up at the trees.

Eddie climbs off of the rock and helps you down as well. His original plan was to walk all the way back to the van but the rain got harder, so the both of you sit comfortably with the rock as your source of shelter temporarily.

“Well, cross this off of your bucket list.” He laughs, his back pressed against one side of the rock as he faces you. “You wanna smoke?”

He pulls out a baggie from his jacket with rolled blunts and bits of weed, hanging it in front of you. He saw the sparkle in your eyes when he held the bag in front of you, almost full of curiosity and excitement with a hint of fear.

“I don’t bite and it won’t either.” He promises, his voice quieter.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?” You joke around to keep the situation lighthearted.

“Just trying to keep us entertained while it quite literally rains on our parade.” He cheeses. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You thought for a moment. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Well, probably a lot, but you wanted to slowly creep away from the goody two shoe student that your parents and peers sought you out to be. What better way to explore additional perks and interests than to explore it all?

“I’ve just never smoked before.” You speak up, he laughs at first until he realizes you’re being serious.

“Wait, seriously? Your brother buys shit from me all the time and you’ve never dabbled in it a smidge?” He interrogates, you laugh a light ‘no’.

Without hesitation, Eddie pulls out one of the blunts from the baggie and observes it, making sure it’s rolled tight and perfect for your first ever smoke session. He gives you a look to make sure that you wanted to and once he had your approval, he sticks it between his lips and lights the end. He drags in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before exhaling. The smell alone was horrid but you hoped that it would be worth it.

“So you’re going to hold it like this,” He teachers, wrapping your fingers around it snugly. “Bring it up to your lips and inhale. You’ve smoked a normal cigarette, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Inhale just like that, just be sure you hold it in for as long as you can stand it. Then you just exhale and enjoy it.” His voice was rich as he instructed you.

You did exactly what he told you. You pull the blunt to your lips, sucking in a deep breath as your lungs ache once the smoke hit them. You hold for a few seconds and exhale, coughing obnoxiously as the smoke is released.

“You alright?” Eddie checks once your coughing had died down, you give him a thumbs up while your eyes water. “Yeah first time’s rough but it gets easier.”

“How will I know I’m high?” You ask him, handing the blunt back.

“Oh you’ll know, trust me.” He winks, inhaling the smoke.

This pattern of back and forth goes on for a while, the rain not giving a hint of ending in sight. You felt good, everything felt light and relaxing, you’ve never felt this calm. He wasn’t wrong, you knew the moment it hit you that you were high.

Less than 24 hours ago you were doing volunteer work with him with hardly any words being shared between the both of you. Less than 12 hours ago you were getting to know each other better and becoming friends. Now you’re in the middle of the woods with him getting high for the first time.

“This is nice.” You sigh to yourself, relaxing against the ground as you bask in your high.

“Feeling it, aren’t ya?”

“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “To think that we barely knew a thing about each other yesterday and now we’re here.”

“I know, crazy how shit like that works.” Eddie chuckles. “You’re nothing like your brother.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good I believe.” He mentions casually, playing with a rock in his hand. “It was easier getting to know you. Not much of a total asshole, humble for the most part, cute.”

He just leaves it at the last word, cute. You couldn’t tell if it was the high that made you blush or his words but you couldn’t shake the butterflies that had lingered all day. You laugh at his compliments in an endearing way, burying your face in your hands.

“So what are your plans for the rest of spring break?”

“Not too sure.” You sigh with a shrug. “Yourself?”

“Well I’m glad you ask!” He chirps, sitting up straight. “I’ll be doing different adventures with you.”

“Eddie-”

“Ah ah, live a little, remember?” He reminds you. “I won’t do anything that will hurt you. I promise.”

You’ve heard that same promise before from Tommy but that wasn’t exactly true. There were multiple reasons not to trust anyone, your parents being the first people to break your trust long ago and everyone else seemed followed along. When you begin to live, you learn to trust.

“Fine.” You agree after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “What do you have in mind?”

“We’ll figure it out once we figure it out.” He beams, gently slapping your knee. “But for now, what do you think about getting back to the van? I don’t think the rain plans on stopping and it’s only 3:26, we’ve got more to do.”

You both crawl out from under the rock and run through the trees, branches slapping against you, leaving wet marks on your shirt and jeans while the rain falls on your head. You laugh when Eddie trips over his own feet and lands on his stomach so he grabs your ankle in revenge, making you fall right beside him. You make an audible oof as your stomach hits hits the muddy ground, mud splashing all over your torso and your face.

“Who’s laughing now?” Eddie teased and pokes his tongue out.

“Oh shut up.” You laugh loudly, grabbing Eddie’s hand as he assists you to your feet.

You brush yourself off the best you can before you both continue your walk through the trees. You find the clearing and spot his van, making a run for it and hopping in the passenger’s seat.

Eddie begins to drive down the road, coming up with new things that you haven’t done. He pulls into a gravel road and the familiarity comes around, you were in the trailer park that Max lives in. You were silently praying that she wouldn’t be home so no red flags were potentially raised about you being with Eddie.

He pulls into a driveway and parks beside a black truck, he turns off the ignition and opens the driver door. You glance over at Max’s trailer and see no trace of her which gave you the go ahead of following him inside.

The both of you quietly walk through the door, you see an older man sleeping on the recliner that sat in front of the flickering television. Eddie holds his index finger in front of his mouth as a sign to not speak, you oblige and follow him down the hall into the bedroom.

“This is mi casa.” He announces quietly once the door was shut. “That was also my Uncle Wayne asleep in there.”

You connected some of the dots about what he told you about himself last night. Wayne had been granted custody of Eddie before he was 5, his mom had passed away and his dad was constantly running from the cops or was in jail. Since it wasn’t expected that Wayne get custody, he had to give up the only room in the trailer and gave it to Eddie and he would resort to the recliner.

“You have a lot of stuff.” You point out as you take a look around his room.

“Yeah, I tried cleaning up but it got cluttered because of my collections.” He smiles almost nervously.

His room was filled with things he was passionate about, majority of it being music and D&D things. He had posters covering nearly every part of the walls, clothes piled up on a desk and in the closets. It wasn’t organized but you enjoyed the chaos. He throws you a shirt and you catch it in your hands.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to be in muddy clothes all day, you can wear that for now.”

“You’re very considerate.” You smile at him.

He grins at your statement and rips his dirty shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and throws on a clean one. He walks into the bathroom to allow you to change in privacy. You pull your shirt over your head and immediately cover yourself back up with his shirt, it smelled like laundry detergent mixed with cigarettes and weed. You’ve grown used to the smell of him over the past day and it was almost comforting.

“You still have dirt on your face.” Eddie calls attention to your face, his finger brushes against your nose.

You try to wipe it off without looking, missing the spots of dried mud entirely. He tries to guide you but you continued to miss it, he held in his laugh at your failed attempts.

“Here, let me get it.” He mutters, taking matters into his own hands.

You look up at him and agree to his help, his rough fingertips scrape the side of your face. His eyes flicker from the dirt on your cheek and nose to your eyes, your breath catches in your throat once you lock eyes.

Suddenly he was even prettier than before. His big brown eyes glimmered in the sunlight that peaked through his window, his lips glistened from the chapstick he put on in the bathroom, it suddenly felt like you were floating. His finger remained on your face, not moving but just staying there as the two of you take in each other’s features. No words were being spoken, no movements, just the two of you taking in one another.

“Eddie, I’m heading out.” You hear from the living room, knocking you both back into reality.

“Oh, uh alright!” Eddie shouts back, glancing back at the door and removing his hand. “I may be out when you get home!”

“That’s alright, just be safe and don’t get arrested again.” Wayne bellows.

You hear his footsteps and the door slam shut behind him. The roar of the engine rattled the windows and you hear it get quieter and quieter the further he got down the gravel road. You were taking in Eddie’s space, it was different being the guest in his home but you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy being somewhere new.

“Don’t get attested again?” You draw attention to Wayne’s statement. “You seemed to have missed that chapter.”

“Oh it was nothing.” He waves off. “Just got caught doing some graffiti when I was 17, no charges were actually filed.”

He lays back on his bed and sighs.

“You can sit, I don’t bite unless you ask me to.” He winks to you, moving over so you had some room.

Oh god. Is he flirting? It definitely feels like he’s flirting with you. Maybe you were overthinking it and he was being friendly? It was hard to tell with him.

“Is your high wearing off?” He blurts out a few minutes after you got comfortable in your new spot.

“A little.” You replied, sitting criss cross.

With that answer, he pulls out a baggie of weed from his bedside table and a box of wraps. You weren’t ignorant to weed, you just hadn’t tried it until earlier but you knew what things were. You watch as he grabs the rolling tray and sits it on the bed beside him. He grabs bits of the drug in his fingers and places it in the paper. You watch as he rolled the fresh blunt, licking the paper gently to ensure that none would fall out.

He plants a kiss on it like it was the most delicate thing in existence before placing it between his lips. He lights the end of it and inhales deeply, lifting his head to the ceiling as his blows it out, his neck was on full display for you. His hand reaches out, extending the blunt to you. You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you immediately grab it and pull it up to your face, dragging in a deep breath.

It was true when he said that it’ll get easier the more you do it, it didn’t sting your lungs nearly enough like it did a few hours before. You feel his eyes on you whilst you breathe out and hand him the blunt back. You continue passing it back and forth to one another, that relaxed feeling creeping back to you. You eventually lie down on your stomach facing Eddie, making it even easier to pass it between you two.

“My mouth is so dry.” You complain with a laugh. “But this is nice. I like hanging out with you.”

“I enjoy hanging out with you too.” He chuckles, tilting his head to the side after the blunt was finished. “You look good in my shirt.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile at the now obvious flirting. While you try to hide your appreciation for the compliment, you look around his room and spot an eyeliner pencil.

“Can I do your eyeliner?” You question, suddenly changing the subject.

“Go for it.” He approved.

You get off of the bed and waltz over to his desk, you grab the eyeliner in your hands and walk back towards him. You wiggle your eyebrows in a joking manner while he continues to lay on his back.

“I didn’t really think about this.” You mutter, trying to figure out a good spot for you to sit as you do his makeup.

“Let me sit up a little.” Eddie announced, scooting himself to a halfway seated position.

You sit in front of him and bring his face towards you in your hands, it still wasn’t easy to do his eyeliner without poking him in the eye. He noticed your difficulty and grabbed your legs, scooting you into his lap a little bit.

“This okay?” He verifies.

“Much better.” You smile sweetly, grasping his face in your palm again to guide him to you.

You order him to look up and he does just that as you cautiously place the eyeliner on his waterline. His hands sit comfortably on your back to hold himself up and prevent you from moving suddenly. You focus on the makeup not getting in his eye and he seemed to be focused on something else.

“Your lips are chapped.”

His statement immediately makes you lick your lips to give them some sort of moisture but it was no use.

“Yeah well I have cottonmouth and it isn’t helping.” You mumble, continuing to focus on his face.

“You need chapstick?”

“You gonna stop talking so I can finish this?” You remark lightly, looking at his face and seeing amusement written all over it.

“No, I think you need chapstick.”

His eyes flicker up to yours and to your lips, he quickly closes the gap between the two of you. You feel a sense of shock at first when you feel his lips pressed against yours, unsure if it was actually happening or if you had gotten too high and you were making it up.

He pulled away, his pupil blown once you make eye contact with him again. The feelings that you had felt all day, all of the butterflies, anxiety, excitement had hit you all at once again.

“I-I’m sorry.” He breathes after a moment, studying the expression on your face. “I didn’t know-”

You interrupt him by stealing another kiss once the reality of him kissing you first had set in. The eyeliner rolled out of your touch as you place your hands firmly on his face with your lips pressed against his. It felt right, almost like you’ve done this hundreds if not thousands of times before.

Truthfully, you had the biggest crush on him when he began to come around a year ago, though you pushed it away the best you could. You never stayed around him long enough or talked to him because you didn’t want him to find out about your attraction, but now it made you wonder how long he felt the way whatever this was.

“Whoa.” Eddie exhaled once you pulled away slowly.

“Um, yeah. Whoa.” You mimic, sliding out of his lap.

Your faces were a bright shade of red and you couldn’t contain your grins. You were able to clearly see your eyeliner job on him and he looked even that much cuter.

“So uh,” He clears his throat. “What adventure you wanna go on now?”

“What time is it?” You ask, he looks down at the watch on his wrist.

“8:30” He answered.

“The next adventure would probably be getting home before anyone suspects anything if Steve’s home.”

You saw the slight disappointment in his face but he wouldn’t make you stay longer. You both got off of his bed and walk into the living room, putting on your shoes and lacing them so you could get out of the door.

You wait for him in the passenger’s seat of the van, not sure of what was taking him so long to get outside. You glance in the rearview mirror and see Max and Lucas talking by the picnic tables, you curse yourself under your breath and you finally spot Eddie coming. He climbs in the driver’s seat, you sink farther in the passenger’s seat as he drives in hopes that they wouldn’t catch you.

“Small change of plans in our adventure.” Eddie says. “Forgot my dice at the school, I have to get them before someone throws them away.”

“Nobody’s there.”

“Well, we’ll sneak in.” He suggests nonchalantly. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!” You argue with a fake offended tone which made him laugh. “You know where they’re at?”

“Yep and I know exactly how we’ll get in.”

You didn’t ask any questions nor did you expect any answers for the time being, you were in for whatever he had planned. He drives through town, telling you different stories about the rise and falls of Hellfire and how easy it was to manipulate the other characters just by dice. Eventually he pulls into the school’s parking lot and drives to the back, parking as close as he could possibly get to a window.

“You got it?” He whispers below you as you crawl inside of a window.

“I think my jeans are stuck!” You whisper shout from above him, unable to move any further than where you were.

Your belt loop got snagged on a hook and you didn’t want to rip your new jeans but you had to get in and out of there.

“Push me!” You order, your feet kicking a tad in the air.

You feel his hands on your legs as he pushes you inside, you topple on the floor, letting out a silent ‘ow’ when you hit your head on the hard tile. You brush yourself off and move out of the way as Eddie jumps up, clinging onto the windowsill and pulling himself inside. He wastes no time to find where he had left the dice.

“It’s so dark.” Your voice echos down the hall, hardly being able to see Eddie’s own shadow.

“Just follow me.” He orders.

You keep quiet and follow him to the best of your abilities, finally reaching a classroom door. He opens the door quietly and walks inside, inching the corner of the room to a closet. You hear him pick the lock of the closet and the creak of the door opening was practically deafening. He walks inside and flips on a light, revealing where he held Hellfire. He looks around everywhere for the dice and they were nowhere to be found. You weren’t aware that he held Hellfire in the drama class’s prop closet until that moment, but it would explain a lot.

“Aha!” You hear him shout in a celebratory tone.

“Who’s there?” You hear another voice shout from down the hall.

You and Eddie immediately look at each other with a moment of panic until he mouths run. You both break out into a sprint, he grabs your hand so you don’t fall behind. The footsteps of the other person could be heard following you. You find the way you came in and jump out of the window, your ankles burning as you land on the hard ground and Eddie follows shortly after.

“Go, go, go!” He shouts to you, making you run for the van.

Once you were in the van and the coast was clear after he’d driven off, you burst out into a fit of laughter. The adrenaline from escaping and your high runs through your veins and he smiles when he sees that you had a blast. You were finally to your last adventure of the night, home.

He drives into the quiet section of your neighborhood and finally pulls into your driveway. Surprisingly Steve hadn’t made it home yet, but he usually came home super late when your parents were out of town. You both sit in the driveway for a few minutes in silence.

“Thank you for everything today.” You smile. “Do you wanna come in for a bit?”

He didn’t answer verbally, instead he turned off the ignition and pulled the keys out. You took it as a yes so you jump out and he followed you inside. There was no sign of Steve even stopping by the house, everything was exactly how you and Eddie left it that morning.

You go upstairs with Eddie behind you and you allow him inside of your room, closing the door to give him access to your entire space. You turn on your lamp and turn off the ceiling light, giving your eyes a moment to relax from the soft light. You lay on your bed with your face towards the ceiling, he copies you and lays the exact same way.

“I’ve gotta say, you didn’t disappoint me today, Harrington.” He says quietly.

“You didn’t disappoint me either, Munson.” You acknowledged, turning your head to face him.

He smiles and inches his face closer to yours, almost testing the waters like he hadn’t kissed you an hour prior.

“Do I need more chapstick?” You tease, he smirked.

“I believe so.”

The gap was finally closed again. He tasted like a mixture of weed and cigarettes, it was quickly becoming your favorite taste. His lips were soft against yours, your eyes flutter closed as the kiss lingers. What started off as a few small pecks transitioned to something more.

His lips move swiftly against yours, almost cautious as if he was worried that you might back away. You put more pressure against his lips, which signaled him that you weren’t backing away. He experiments a little bit by sliding his tongue against your bottom lip, you open your mouth to allow access to him.

His tongue slides into your mouth, clashing against yours without a fight. You couldn’t get enough of him, he sits up and hovers over you, not moving his lips from yours. You spread your legs to allow him to sit comfortably as he continues to kiss you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly which made a slight groan come out of his throat. You began to get wet just from the sound he made, the kiss growing needier from both parties.

You feel his hard cock press against you from his jeans while your tongues intertwine. His hand creeps up your shirt and lands on the soft fabric of your bra, squeezing your breast. His like trail from your lips to your cheek and down your neck, peppering small kisses to your exposed skin. You sigh in pleasure when he sucks the tender sweet spot right below your ear, leaving behind a purple bruise that would be hard to hide.

He pulls away from your body for a moment, tossing his shirt to the side of your room before helping you do the same. You reveal your black bra but you quickly reach behind you, unclasping it and throwing it to the rest of the clothes.

“Jesus.” Eddie groans deeply as he sees your tits for the first time, it was so much better than he had imagined.

He pushed you back down, making you bounce a little on your back as you grin. He looked at you with so much need and desire it was unbearable. He slides out of this jeans and quickly begins to work on the button and zipper of your jeans, leaving you in your red laced underwear. Your eyes fixate on his hard cock through his underwear, your mouth practically watering, but you knew you didn’t have much time.

“Steve should be on his way, yeah?” Eddie breathes from above you, you nod. “Better make this quick.”

He lifts your hips a little and he slides your underwear down your legs, sucking in a deep breath when he sees your wet cunt glistening in the light.

“Fuuuuck.” He draws out, “So pretty for me.”

His face hovers over your cunt, observing the slick you had collected within the past few minutes. He kisses your thighs, going up further and diving straight into your cunt. His tongue licks a broad stripe from your opening to your clit, you let out a soft mewl at the sensitive sensation.

Part of your brain was fighting with you, saying it was wrong because you hadn’t really known him for long and he was your brothers best friend, but the other side knew that it felt too good to bother fighting.

“Oh shit.” You gasp quietly while his tongue moves circles around your clit.

You swore he was some sort of professional, maybe even a pornstar, just by the way his tongue danced on your cunt. You hadn’t expected him to know exactly what he was doing because of the track record he has for relationships. Maybe he hooked up with girls after his shows at this hideout? Maybe girls from school? You didn’t care enough in the moment to figure it out, you’d ask him at a later time.

His lips latch around your sensitive bud and he sucks gently, releasing a moan from your throat and your fingers cling to his hair. You give an experimental tug on his hair, a guttural groan comes out of his mouth and it buzzes against your clit. You let out a moan at the extra sensation, his eyes meet you as his mouth keeps its place on your clot.

“You taste so good, baby.” He compliments after he pulls away. “Would love to taste you more but it’s only a matter of time until Steve gets home.”

He crawls back up to you and pecks your lips again, your fingernails rake against his torso. You reach to the side and open the bedside drawer, pulling out a book and Eddie immediately looks at you confused. You open it a little halfway through and pull out a condom, throwing the book to the side as you hand it to him.

“I honest to god had no clue where this was going.” He snickers, grabbing the condom.

“Well that was always my hiding spot for shit that I didn’t want my parents to find.” You explained with a grin.

He smirks before sliding out of his boxers, his cock on complete display for you to see and you were aching for him even more. He opens the foil with his teeth, spitting it into the floor and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

He slots himself between your legs, grabbing the base of his cock and swiping it between your folds, teasing you with a smug look on his face.

“Don’t be mean.” You whine with a pout, he mocks your pout.

“Aw am I being mean sweetheart?” He mocks. “If you ask me, I think I’m being pretty nice.”

“This isn’t called being nice.” You shake your head, he smirks.

“Oh I’m not being nice?” Eddie tuts, pushing his mushroom tip into you.

You whimper as he begins to stretch you out already.

“From the sounds you’re making, it seems like I’m being pretty damn nice if you ask me.” He chuckles, pulling his tip out of you.

“Please.” You plead, a spark in his eye was very noticeable when he hears you beg for him.

“Please what?” He pushes, a smirk spread widely across his face. “Oh, you want me to fuck you, hm?”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded.

“I don’t know sweet girl, the thought of me fucking you senseless while your brother’s home is enticing.” He hums. “Maybe make you wait a little longer, have him wondering where we’re at while I’m deep inside you.”

His tip is pushed into you again, another whence being pulled from you body. It was absolute torture to wait like this but you were eating it up. You just needed him right then and there.

“I’m feeling quite generous, though.” His voice is deep and low as he pushes himself into you even further.

He sinks into you lower and lower until he finally reaches the hilt. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure as he stretched you out, he felt way bigger than he looked which was saying something because he was massive. He draws his hips back before slamming into you, causing you to cry out. He looks down at you to see if you were fine, you flash him a grin to let him know that you were perfectly okay.

His thrusts were slow and deep at first but once you had adjusted to his size, he picked up the pace. His hands grip onto your hips, his fingertips leaving behind bruises while his cock repeatedly hits your cervix.

“Fucking Christ baby, you’re doing so well for me.” He grits, watching himself slide in and out of you.

His hair and body is drenched in sweat as he fucks into you deeply, your moans blend with the sounds of Eddie’s grunts and your body crashing against his. Your fingernails sinks into his back, he pulls you even closer and lifts your legs slightly for even deep penetration. He locks eyes with you, your mouth parts slightly and your eyebrows furrow as his dick continues its hard pattern in and out of your cunt.

“Oh g-god Eddie, right there!” You cry out, your legs already beginning to shake while his thrusts continue.

His grunts grow louder and louder with each thrust, his eyes never leave yours unless it’s to look at himself gliding in and out of you. You ramble his name over and over like it was your personal prayer to god, you weren’t able to get enough of him. You were beyond addicted to him at this point like he was your lifeline. His thrusts begin to falter as he gets closer to his climax, you would be lying if you said you weren’t nearly there yourself.

“You look so beautiful being split open from my cock like this.” He growls, his harsh grip tightening on your hips. “You like when I fuck you like this? Hm?”

“Y-yes!” You squeal, your climax quickly approaching.

“Wonder what your brother would do if he found out.” He snickers, his balls repeatedly slapping your skin while his cock is buried deep within you. “What would Steve think about his little sister being fucked senseless by me?”

You couldn’t answer, no words were able to escape your lips, only the sound of your moans could be heard. He pushed for an answer, his hips snapping into you harshly only made it harder to answer.

“Oh my god Eddie!” You scream as you clench around him.

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when your climax finally hits you. Your toes curl as your back arches off of the bed, a wave of pleasure floods through your body and you see sparks. Your legs shake uncontrollably while he continues to fuck into you, his climax quickly building up at the sight and feeling of your orgasm crashing through you. He tried to hold it back but he couldn’t, his hips slowly rut into you while he works his way through his own orgasm, hot white ropes of cum filling the rubber he still had inside of you.

He cautiously pulled out of you whilst you were both still excruciatingly sensitive because of your orgasms. He rolls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can that say in the corner of your room and cleans himself off before slowly putting his items of clothing on. Once you caught your breath and your body relaxed you put on a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas. He flashes you a grin and presses a kiss to your lips, you kiss him back immediately with a smile.

Just like clockwork you hear the front door opening and the sound of shoes walking into the living room. You and Eddie share a quick glance before trying to come up with something on the spot as an excuse for why he was in your room since you knew whoever it was had seen his van in the driveway.

“Quick, had me that screwdriver.” He points at the edge of your closet while he kneels in front of your bedroom door.

You do exactly what he tells you, handing him the screwdriver but unsure as to what he was doing. You fix you hair to make it lay over your shoulders to conceal the hickey he had left on your neck. You hear footsteps and walking up the stairs and come to a complete stop in front of your door.

“That should work better for you, don’t have to worry about it falling off of the hinges.” Eddie grunts, tightening a screw on your door.

“Thanks, I have no clue what happened.” You play along.

Eddie gets off of the floor and opens the door, revealing Steve standing in the hallway looking confused and almost concerned. You smile to Steve and thank Eddie for “fixing” your door.

“Everything okay?” Your brother questions, standing there with a hand on his hip.

“Yeah, my door just got too loose and fell I suppose.” You shrug.

“Uh, yeah. Alright then.” Steve states, his eyebrows still furrowed and he shakes his head. “Still plan on helping out during the party?”

“Do I ever say no?” Eddie chuckles. “See you around, Harrington.”

You nod graciously and they walk down the stairs, Eddie glances behind him for a moment and gives you a wink, the butterflies coming back again. You close your door and the day finally sinks in.

What have you gotten yourself into?

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie st4 #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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thefallennightmare · 5 months

Text

Just Pretend-ten

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I don't think you guys understand how broken this gif made us. Fuck, creating it killed me! Also, during the hotel scene, listen to snuff by slipknot. It's on the playlist! Some eggs from other songs on the playlist throughout the chapter as well! Enjoy my loves!

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here

NICK R.

My heart raced as Jolly and I met each other in the dimly lit hotel hallway, sleep still heavy in our eyes and bones. When he called me a few minutes ago, I rushed out of bed where I was crashing in Matt’s room and knew that it could have been about one thing.

Noah.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jolly ran a hand over his exhausted face. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked inside yet and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see.”

“Y/N. He kicked me out earlier tonight because she was coming by,” I said, remembering suddenly.

“Shit,” Jolly cursed before nodding behind me towards Folio. “No matter what we walk into, we don’t judge him. Whatever happened fucked him up enough that he needs to write a song at three in the morning.”

Folio agreed. “How bad is he?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Jolly turned towards the door and knocked gently.

“Yeah.”

The voice that called back was not Noah; this voice sounded broken, and distant, with the single word that was uttered.

“It’s me,” Jolly spoke through the door.

Realizing that Noah was most likely not in a state to answer the door, I handed Jolly my room key and we all sucked in a breath when the light on the lock turned green; us walking into the room one at a time. There was music playing, soft beats echoing off the wall, and I hoped no one would complain to the front desk about the noise.

My bed was still as I left it but Noah’s bed was disheveled with a pair of underwear that clearly weren’t his and a small piece of what I expected was a condom wrapper. Noah’s original clothes from earlier that evening were on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Shit.

Noah was on the floor leaning against the wall with a bottle of Hennessy in hand, more than half gone, and his hair was in a disarray of braids.

“Noah,” Jolly said quietly while bending down in front of him.

He waved a hand in front of his face as his head bobbed slowly. “I’m good, man. I just wanted to get this beat down. It’s in my head.”

“She wouldn’t stay, would she?” I questioned while motioning towards the bed.

“Didn’t need to. Jus’ friends. ‘S’all it’s come to. She didn’t need to and I don’t really fucking care. I don’t. No sweat off ma back,” he finished the rest of the bottle before letting it slip from his fingers. “I’m fine. F.I.N.E.”

The three of us shared a painful wince as he spelled out the word two more times.

As if whoever was watching over us from above, just then that specific song by Too Close To Touch came blasting through the small portable speaker Noah always brought with.

“See?” Noah pointed to the air around him. “Even fucking Keaton is telling you guys I’m fine.”

But then, he slammed his head against the wall behind him as his bottom lip trembled, his chest caving in at hearing his best friend's voice play throughout the room. Noah was only rubbing more salt in his wounds and fuck, they burned.

“Why the fuck aren’t you here, man?” he choked out. “You knew her better than us. What did I do? Why’d she leave?”

Keaton’s name felt like ice in our hearts and I knew it was a stabbing pain through Noah’s chest.

“Whatever,” Noah grumbled, wiping angrily at his face. “Her decision; bad decision. Fuck her. I need to write.”

“Noah, come on, don’t say shit you’re gonna regret,” Folio spoke. “You can’t write when you’re drunk. You know that.”

“M’not. She jus’ my good friend. I fucking knew I wasn’t enough for her.”

He was far gone, not even realizing that Folio and I stood behind Jolly, our own somber expressions weighing heavily on our faces.

Finally, his eyes opened and when he saw all three of us, Noah groaned.

“Oh, great ya called them?” He pointed towards us. “I don wanna hear I told you so, erm stubborn. Yadayadsa.”

His words slurred together, stumbling over his tongue.

Folio peered around the room, counting the empty bottles. “I’m counting two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Apparently he’s been sitting here awhile.”

“You know I can’t stay; you deserve better than me,” Noah chuckled, imitating Y/N’s voice.

Jolly peered over his shoulder at us and his lips were pulled in a tight line, all of us thinking the same thing.

“Noah” I sighed with my hands on my hips.

His head snapped up, eyes red with tears so close to falling but they wouldn’t. Noah was always in control of his emotions; he refused to cry in front of us.

“She told me what I felt, she told me what I wanted and what I didn’t. Didn’t give me a fucking say about anything before she walked the fuck out. Left. Gone,” he rambled on.

“She’s going through-,” Folio started.

“Fuck that,” Noah seethed with clenched fists in his lap. “I don’-don’t care right now, in this moment. She fucking stole my heart and took it with ‘er. Jus’ friends.”

The last two words sounded bitter on his tongue, like acid.

While we let him wallow in the pain, I motioned for Jolly and Folio to walk to the other side of the room, out of earshot from Noah.

“Should we ask Malcom or Chase what the fuck happened?” Jolly asked.

“Do you think she told them?” Folio wondered.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t doubt that. She likes him, we know she does. It’s clear.”

“Then why did she leave?” Jolly questioned, his own pain for Noah making his jaw clench. “What the fuck happened to make her leave?”

I gazed over to Noah, my heart falling into my stomach at the broken sight of my brother. “He jumped. He jumped but Y/N wasn’t there yet.”

The three of us made a quick plan of action before Jolly and Folio went to help Noah up off the floor, his limp body dragging on the floor.

“Noah let’s get into bed,” Folio suggested.

“No. I need to finish this beat, and these fuckin’ lyrics in my head,” he pushed himself away from them, standing on two shaky feet but standing. He smacked his forehead over and over.

Jolly nodded. “We will, but first you need to get some sleep.”

He glared at the bed in front of him, a mess of the decision they made together.

“…the pillow.. she was on that one,” Noah pointed. “It smells like that fucking perfume, I don-wanna inhale that shit right now.”

There was so much venom in his voice when he spoke about Y/N and there was a part of me that hoped this wouldn’t last long. He had every right to be upset with her; he gave her his heart, and she walked away.

“Alright, then let’s get you some sleep in mine,” I said.

He licked his lips, an unreadable look flashing in bloodshot eyes. “I still fucking taste her. It’s a poison that I should have fucking avoided.”

“Can’t help you with that, brother,” Folio tried to joke.

No one laughed

“No. I need to finish this-,” Noah stumbled over to his suitcase to snatch a piece of paper and pen, something he always kept on him.

I stepped in front of him to hold him steady, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was as if it was trying to break free to chase after Y/N; just for her to stomp on it again.

No, I shook my head, you can’t let your own anger deter you from trying to fix Noah. You can be angry about the situation but not her. It’s no one's fault.

“You don’t like to write when you’re not home,” I tried to take the pen and paper away from him.

“I don’ care nicKLas.” He pushed past me to fall onto his bed, ass first on the pillow. “I have to, right now.”

Sensing the sudden thick tension, not knowing what the next thing would be that would set him off, Jolly gave a slow nod toward Noah.

“Alright. Let it go, man. Let us hear it.”

Even though they weren’t written down, Noah still burned his gaze into the empty page in front of him. Through the slurred words, the ache that poured out of him brought chills to my bones.

“How quick it gets lonely here at the top. Her skin feels unholy but I’m still drawn. The morals I’m holding, you know they’re gone.”

Fuck, that was good.

Noah’s eyes snapped over to us. “Why aren’t you helping me get down this beat?”

I held my arms out to the empty room. “We don’t have our stuff here Noah, this isn’t usually how we do this.”

“Fuck,” he ran a shaky hand over his chin. “Ok well then here! Voice clip it.”

While he tossed his phone to Jolly, who barely caught it in time, I gave Folio a look of luck before slipping out of the room, almost running into Matt who stood at the open doorway.

“Who the fuck is blasting Snuff by Slipknot at four in the morning?” He asked with fury.

No doubt someone called the front desk and complained who in turn complained to Matt.

“Woah, what the fuck is going on right now?” Matt took a tentative step into the room, eyeing the situation.

“Didn’t you hear, fucker?” Noah whipped his head towards us so fast, that the braids smacked around his face. “She ran away, she’s the fuckin same.”

He hiccuped a sob. “Angels lie to keep control.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jolly pinched his nose with a sigh.

I gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on Noah, he’s not in a good place right now.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me-,” he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweater.

“Just- let me handle it man,” I slipped past him out of the room and quick steps took me to the elevator.

I bounced on the soles of my feet as I repeatedly pushed the down floor button and cursed when the doors finally opened. Blackness took over as I let the images of Noah sitting there broken carry me to the room, hand pounding on the door.

Time be damned. I couldn't care less if she was asleep right now. How could she be asleep while my best friend, my brother, was fucking dying on the inside?

Not again. I refused to let him sink for another.

“Nick?” Chase squinted with the sudden light blasting in from the hallway. “Everything alright?”

“Where is she?”

He continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Who? Y/N?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Is she here?”

I tried to peer past him but only saw someone with auburn curls walk behind Chase, leaving a gentle hand on his back. “What’s going on?”

“Nick’s looking for Y/N,” Chase informed Malcolm.

He stared at me confused. “Last I heard she was going to hang out with Noah. Did something happen?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snapped but then let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole but she left. Noah’s a fucking wreck. It seemed like they had a great time- so what’s the deal? I thought she cared for him. Why, why would she hurt my friend?”

I was the middle child, great at negotiating, great at being the middle man. The one who would try to settle things. I was on Noah’s side with this one, she’s my friend, but he’s my brother. Even I didn’t see this coming. I tried to remain neutral when I asked them and tried not to look annoyed.

“Dude- she does, she cares for him a lot,” Malcolm spoke while tying up his curls. “Noah makes her so happy. We haven’t seen her glow like that in years, I just- I don’t know. We don’t know why she would leave. Unless…”

Chase quickly pushed Malcolm back into the room slightly. “Dude, no. That’s not our business to tell. She has to be the one to decide.”

“What?!” I asked.

They knew something, and I needed to know; right now.

“That’s her business, not ours,” Chase said, rubbing his head.

“What?,” I scoffed. “Is she fucking dying or something? Is she okay?”

“No, no, she’s fine. All I’ll say is she does things in her life that can require extra attention. But like I said, that’s not for us to discuss, even with you man, sorry,” he pauses and says again. “Is he- is Noah alright?”

“Honestly? No. He isn’t, he’s drunk and writing right now. He’s gonna feel like hell when we have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry dude. When Y/N comes back, we’re going to have to have a long talk. We know she cares for your friend, Nick. Her heart is in the right place- we just don’t know where the hell her mind is. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and smile slightly, in agreement. My eyes want to convey a lot more. Y/N’s a good person, but she broke my friend's heart tonight. This is why I was so hesitant about this relationship with him and Y/N. I warned Noah not to jump yet, but he did.

All I could do right now until she came back was nod a quick thanks to them and hope that Y/N would confide in them. I wanted to fix my friend's broken soul so often, and so often I tried and succeeded. I wasn’t sure I could with this one- I needed to let them go through this on their own. But I’ll be damned if I let my friend suffer.

“Alright well, let me know what you find out, please.”

“Absolutely, anytime man. We’ll talk,” Chase reassured with a nod, Malcolm bumping fists with mine.

When I made it back to Noah’s room, I noticed the guys huddled around Noah’s slumped body in the bed, clutching the pillow Y/N laid on close to his chest, snoring loudly, and another empty bottle of Hennessy next to him.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Another one?”

Matt sighed defeated. “We tried, man. But his strength when he’s drunk and angry is something not to mess with. You know that.”

I nodded because I knew that. All too well.

“He only fell asleep about five minutes ago. I don’t know how we’re going to get him up in two hours so we can make our flights,” Folio wondered.

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured them. “Did he finish writing?”

“Yeah,” Matt slowly went towards the end of the bed, gently pulling the book from under Noah’s arm; pen falling from his hands.

“What does it say?” My brows raised as I took the paper in my hands; my brothers' broken words staring back at me.

Bitter ends to the nights. I’m along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time. Everything has a price. You can be all I got, what’s the difference? Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions. All I know, all I know is bad, bad decisions.

“Gotta admit, it’s fucking good,” Jolly said while he read the lyrics over my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

Folio yawned loudly while stretching, exhausted body falling onto my bed. “Get ready boys because once we’re home, we won’t have a moment of peace. We’re writing a new record.”

NICK R.

You could cut the tension with a knife in this boarding gate right now.

The sun barely broke through the thick glass of the windows as Bad Omens and Hollow Souls sat on other ends of the gate, waiting for our flights to be called. With tired but intent eyes, I watched Noah as he kept his eyes cast down to his hands, fingers intertwining with each other as he picked away the black nail polish. It was as though it was his subconscious way of chipping pieces of Y/N away, the way he washed his hands in the restroom earlier, scrubbing her off him.

His nails were surely, going to bleed if he kept picking at them, I wanted to intervene, say stop that. I needed him to process his feelings. I so badly wanted to scream in this airport, wake the fuck up, to them both. But I kept my reservations.

And just like him, Y/N looked rough. It was clear neither of them, or well any of us got any sleep last night.

Where the fuck did they go so wrong together?

Noah had been a fan of hers ever since that night on my pull-out couch but the first time they met each other almost 2 months ago, their eyes were bright with a vibrant gaze. Almost like searchlights attempting to find something. The lights found it, but they were almost too intense, almost like bystanders. Through all the confusion, I knew deep within me it wouldn’t be long until the searchlights were searching again, just a matter of when.

Us?

We weren’t allowed to see what was being found. We should have looked away, and avoided the crash. But to see them now, those same eyes swollen, discolored and raw red, the blood vessels wanting to leave their faces made it harder to look away.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, now out of the braids and cascading around his shoulder, and let his eyes graze over towards Y/N, who was resting her head against Chase's shoulder. It was brief, the look of agony in them, but he looked away before she could catch him.

The airline called out for Vegas first; Chase and Y/N’s flight. Then our flight back home to LA was called out seconds later.

Those two sets of eyes, continue to gaze and plead and beg until their shoulders are tapped, Jolly to Noah and Chase to Y/N. As he stood, Noah adjusted the bag on his shoulder and waved his fingers in a peace sign toward the three members of Hollow Souls. This wasn’t how we wanted our new friendships and tour to end.

He wants to be in her life. He still does, otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that. I thought to myself as I noticed Y/N gave her one peace sign to all of us.

She’s sorry, she wants him in her life and regrets it.

I could fucking see it. This was going to be a long ride with these two.

As we all stood with our carry-on bags, ready to walk towards our gate, I gave Chase a knowing nod who immediately pulled out his phone, avoiding the eyes of Y/N, to send me a message.

I’ll tell you everything

Noah slept the entire flight, not speaking a word or even opening his eyes. Now, as we pulled up to the house he said with Jolly, Orie, Michael, and Jesse, Noah still had yet to say one word. Folio offered to stay with but we knew he had someone to meet back home in Virginia so we told him we had it from here.

“You sure?” Folio asked before we boarded the plane.

I nodded. “Yeah, go back to Virgina. Tell her we said hey.”

I, on the other hand, was a different story.

“I’m not going home right now,” I told Noah as I set my bags down in their living room. They had little extra space, but I didn’t care. I’d sleep on the couch as long as I was near my brother. “I won’t leave you in this state, Noah.”

“Nick, I’m a grown man. I’ll be alright,” he sighed while popping open the bottle of aspirin, and swallowing two pills dry.

For the hangover.

“I know you are,” I nodded. “Just let me be there for you, okay?”

NOAH

If it wasn’t terrible enough that not only did my fucking love life shut down, but the world had to as well?

Two months. It’s been almost two months since the tour ended and this pandemic took over the world, forcing us to stay stuck inside. While the rest of the guys went stir-crazy after the first few weeks, I spent the solace writing, drinking, and trying to forget about her.

The latter lasted only a few minutes once we returned home; her scent being stained into my skin, her touch engraved deep into my bones it made it hard to get out of bed. I see her in all my mirrors. Her reflection was haunting me relentlessly like a ghost.

Hennessy and Jack have become my friends in the last few weeks at home. I knew the guys were worried; I didn’t need them to worry. I was fine.

Y/N and I are friends.

Right, then how come you haven’t texted her in weeks?

Because she’s been busy with the move, I retorted back to my own thoughts.

Malcolm texted our Hollow Omens group chat to let us know that Y/N was settling in nicely in their new apartment in Los Angeles. We can come by anytime for a housewarming party but immediately I ignored that. Wouldn’t it be fucking awkward?

Trey wasn’t home when she and Chase showed up to pack her things so they could leave without incident.

Even with her cat Salem.

Chase sent a few pictures of the cat in the group chat, long black fur lying on his chest. I never responded, simply liking the messages before setting my phone on silent the rest of the night. I noticed that Y/N rarely ever responded in the chat as well, only when Chase or Malcolm would ask her something but she would only reply with emojis or a short ‘ok.’

The pandemic was only getting started and I could feel the suffocation kick in. I felt alone; utterly alone. I put all my heart into this one woman, a woman I yearned for, for a long time.

The loud ringing of the doorbell pulled me from my melancholy thoughts and I sighed, almost forgetting I ordered food an hour ago. I was in such a trance I hadn’t realized the noise of the loud bell eased me out of my rocking back and forth on the couch.

I didn’t even notice I did that.

I took a massive swig of my jack and clenched my teeth as it burned all the way down my throat, heart racing a mile a minute.

Calm down, calm down.

Time slowed, or passed by in a blaze? I wasn’t sure the longer I sat in the somewhat dark living room, open but untouched food container on the table in front of me as the chicken scratch of my handwriting teased back at me.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed, we made it a pact. Yours dried out; you took it back.

The alcohol was like battery acid as I took another large swing of Jack but it wasn’t kicking in strong enough. I kept swinging until the burn covered up my pain.

Harper’s soft whines from her perch next to me on the couch pulled at my heartstrings so knowing Orie wasn’t here, I fed her a few pieces of my cold dinner.

The front door opened, voices carrying from the entryway into the living room and my heart hammered with the panic of them seeing me like this. I hid the bottle under the pillow and tossed the small bag into the garbage from my food.

“Shit, Noah. Why are you sitting in the dark?” Jolly asked while turning on the lamp next to the sofa I was sitting on.

“Hi,” My voice was soft because now with the bright lights, the room was spinning.

“You working on another song?” He eyed the bottle that stuck out from behind the pillow, irritation in his eyes.

They matched my own.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. “Yes, man, what do you think?”

“Don’t be hostile, go eat and let me look over it,” Jolly motioned to my food while he reached for the pad of paper.

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” I snapped while reaching for it before he could.

“Noah, you gotta eat so you don’t get hungover. Let me look at the song,” he took the pad of paper and walked over to the other side of the room. Once he fell into the chair in the corner of the room, Jolly nodded up at me. “Fucking eat, Noah”

I sighed and grabbed my food to chew slowly, “Okay Dad”

Jesse stalked into the living room a few moments later while stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nick said there might be news of the ban lifting completely by the end of the month. Which means we can get a change of scenery. Might be good for us.”

Holy Hades, this is one of those times I wished I lived alone.

Shortly after getting back home, the pandemic started and Nick ended up getting stuck with us in LA. He didn’t mind, more time for us to hang and chill, but now that procedures were lifting slowly at a time, he took the first opportunity to fly back to Virginia to get things settled there.

“Hey,” Jesse sat on the arm of Jolly’s chair. “Is this another song?”

Even though my head was throbbing with the ongoing hangover, I leaned back into the couch while nodding and Harper now rested her whole body in my lap. “It’s the third one.”

“Oh? Nice! Let me see” He began flipping through the pages.

Normally, I’d jump and take the book from his hands, but right now this room was in spirals. I was sick to my knees. All I wanted to do was call her, and have her tell me it’ll be fine. But I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, and she wasn’t ready to talk to me either.

Clearly.

Malcolm texted me the other day, outside of the Hollow Omens group chat to tell me that Y/N wasn’t doing okay and she missed me. She wanted to talk to me and wanted us over one night when the bans were lifted. But if that was the truth, then how come the last text I had on my phone from her was right before she came to my hotel room that night?

Her unholy skin tasted like the forbidden fruit, all the morals we held that night gone. No gods, no religion. Just our bad decisions. Memories of the way she looked while on top of me burned into my brain and I couldn’t forget the way she felt coming undone.

It paralyzed me so much so that I left Malcolm on read for two days.

Thanks man, glad it worked out. Be in touch.

Snapping out of my drunken thoughts, I noticed Jesse was still reading the pages, not giving a damn I’m leaving my heart out on the table in front of him, bleeding all over while he was reading it.

“Bad Decisions. Nice,” Jesse nodded before flipping back to the new song I was working on. “Nowhere to go? Angsty. I like it.”

I shrugged and stopped mid-chew. “Yeah, I know. It’s what I do, Jesse.”

Arrogant? No, it was smart; I had to channel this shit somewhere. I knew this, no matter what, I’ll always write a fucking song. I wanted to panic, and I did, but the liquor was doing its job.

Jolly went to grab the guitar while Jesse moved to the couch, Harper now lying in his lap.

Traitor.

As I reached for the bottle of Jack this time, Jolly hastily ripped it from my hands and to exhausted to fight, I let him.

“No. Let’s add a chorus to Nowhere To Go, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, I got something in mind.” I took the notebook back to jot some more words down.

After a few moments, I read the entire thing a few times, making sure it was perfect before I gave it to him.

“Start with this?” He asked.

I nodded then soon, my thoughts became words into the air.

“Hear me out, I’m sorry, but I’m a little less than sold. I’ve been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You’re used to speaking in tongues to feel like you’re in control. Now you’ve got nowhere to run, now you’ve got nowhere to go. Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice?”

“Fuck, that sounds amazing, Noah. Let’s finish this.” Jolly mused,

That night, we finished Bad Decisions and Nowhere to Go.

Folio

Noah began smoking weed again, on top of all the alcohol he’d been consuming the last few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. It was only in small doses but that’s how the drinking started; he took up this faux savior persona.

“I can save myself,” he’d say after one of us would bring up how worried we were about him.

It was a load of shit. Any of us could tell you that.

This was the first time I’d seen him since the tour ended, all those months ago, but time away did nothing to help his mental state. Noah was breaking, piece by piece, and now that the ban lifted, we could visit again. Hence Nick and I were hanging out in their living room, a soft beat of music playing on the speakers.

Noah came bounding down the stairs, smelling of whiskey and weed, eyes glassy, rosy, and filled with rage. His hands were full of ink as he’d been writing nonstop, with everlasting consistency.

As he cascaded, his stomps were harsh, and if he realized it, Noah didn’t give a shit. When he reached into the kitchen and slammed the cupboard door wide open, he grabbed a bag of pita chips with tight force, breaking a few chips no doubt.

“Why are these almost gone? I just fucking bought them?” He snapped with a smart-ass attitude.

All of us eyed each other wearily, unsure how or even if we should respond but it was Orie who muttered under his breath. “We had some with the hummus we bought earlier. Chill the fuck out, Noah. It’s not that deep.”

Noah tossed the bag onto the counter. “It is that deep when it's something of mine. Fucking ass if you want it. Why is it so hard for people to communicate?”

Michael, who usually was the quiet, almost forgotten one, finally snapped. “We’re being patient with you. But we’re not your fucking punching bag.”

Jolly’s head snapped over to Michael from his spot on the floor in front of the couch with wide eyes full of heat, I was sure vanilla ice cream would melt. Jolly was the one who let all of us know to take it easy on Noah; it was a hard time in his life, and the last thing he needed was one of us fighting with him.

Noah hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks and we could physically see the imaginary soul ties that bound them together withering away, even though they were within miles of each other now that she lived here. Miles apart but still couldn’t gain the fucking courage to grow up and speak to each other.

Michael sighed his apology while running a hand over his face. “We’re here for you, man. We’re being patient. But you can’t keep going on like this.”

“You’re drowning right now and the painful to watch, you haven’t been this bad in years. Let us help you,” Nick spoke with a shaky breath.

Out of all of us, it hurt him the most to see Noah like this because he’d seen it before; only this time it was worse.

“You can’t help me, nothing to help me with. I’m fine,” Noah shrugged before reaching for another beer.

“You’re in denial and it’s ridiculous,” I said, tired of seeing and hearing the same bullshit. “Noah, I think you should see someone.”

“A shrink? Seriously?” He snorted.

“I think it can help you, besides the way music does,” I offered.

“I don’t need you to help me, I just want the racing to stop. The racing in my mind going miles a minute,” He slammed a finger to the side of his head repeatedly. “We have so much shit to do, and I can’t see anything but what happened right now. It’s a fuckin loop in my brain. Everything just keeps glitching.”

Noah then paced the length of the kitchen, red sweater pulled tightly against his chest and hood over his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry man, I’m sorry I just- fuck” he spat, a tear fell out of his eye but was quick to wipe it away.

Vulnerability be damned

“We’re your friends, we love you. We were stuck in this fucking house together for months. We can’t go anywhere and you don’t want us to worry? Well, too fucking bad because we do,” Orie explained with a tense-looking Harper in his lap.

She didn’t like the sudden noise but didn’t want to leave her dad.

Noah’s glossy eyes took in all our faces one by one, lingering a few seconds longer than the last.

“I just need time, I don’t know how to handle this, it’s- it’s weird for me. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve fallen this hard, this fast,” he admitted while swallowing the lump in his throat.

That much was true. He’s had exes, one-night stands; hell, he’s been in love before- but I’ve never seen it develop this way. We’ve never seen him fall from such a high altitude this quickly. His guards are usually pointed like sharp knives, but it was so easy for him to dull them down for her.

I only hoped Y/N knew that. This was a big deal. I watched my friend crumble and crack like glass.

Time would only tell when they would repair the damage done here. I only hoped it would soon because we hated to see him bruise so easily. He’s right on the edge I fear, one more thing, one more thing and he’ll fall completely into a darkness we wouldn’t be able to pull him from.

“All I do is drink to numb the pain because all the good days we had together got taken away when my head turned on. I keep asking myself ‘why am I not good enough for her?’ How the fuck can I be good enough for her when I don’t even know what good enough is?”

None of us had an answer for him; the only one that did, he was purposely ignoring.

With a lone tear falling from his eyes, Noah wiped it away with the back of his hand, sniffles echoing in the kitchen.

“It’s so hard to watch myself win when a loser's all I've been.”

NOAH

I lay in my bed, neon glows emanating from behind my bed soaking the walls, as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind was racing so face in pace with my heart and I tried so hard to just breathe; fucking breathe to ease it. This pain was like a burning coal I was walking but within a second, all the pain was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore, the drinking, smoking, and not eating affected my health. I was skin on bones at this point.

Keaton's voice rang in my ears. “You’re a shell, Noah. Holding in these shattered nerves. A skeleton that's lost its skin and desperately wants back in.”

Tattooed hands covered my face as I blew a shaky breath into them.

“I need a sign from you, man. Give me something to know I haven’t messed it up yet,” I cried.

A second later, my phone buzzed from the spot on my bed, and through cloudy tears, I sucked in a breath when I saw Chase’s name appear with a new text.

Chase: Hey man, I haven’t heard from you the last few days, I wanted to check in with you. I know this may seem out of nowhere, but we’re worried about you and just hope you’re doing alright.

I stared up at the ceiling again, my heart relaxing its frenzied beat for a moment. “Thank you.”

Hey, all good. Sorry for the late reply. Appreciate it, doing just fine.

Chase: that’s great, but I’ve been hearing other things, so I don’t buy that. Look, again, this isn’t my place but I know Y/N hurt you that night. I can’t sit here and apologize on her behalf, but, I can at least tell you this: she isn’t doing well either; and as someone with two fucking eyes; I can see how much you mean to each other. Some birdies have been telling me you’re drinking yourself into a coma and acting a fool. I apologize for the harshness, but let me ask you this, do you think Y/N wants another Trey? You’re fucking better than that, aren’t you? Do you want to end up as another deadbeat musician with nothing to show for it but a bottle? No, I don’t know you that well but I can see you’re not that guy.

Do yourself a favor and do fucking better. Because she deserves better and so do you. So y’all can sort this soap opera shit out. Talk to you soon, I fucking hope. ✌️

With my phone clattering to the floor, the message left on read, I continued to lie in my bed; the pillow suffocating my mouth and nose.

“I’m not Trey. I’m fucking better than him,” I sat up quickly in bed, my hangover still raging inside my head.

Music is all I have, it’s all lived for-that was until I met her.

With the small get-together happening downstairs still, I ran to the bathroom across the hall to throw up any contents of lingering alcohol and pita chips. I washed my face and brushed my hair out, for the first time in weeks looking somewhat presentable.

“Get it together, you fucking dick.” I pointed a firm finger at my reflection in the mirror, thankful I didn’t see the ghost of Y/N staring back at me. “Do it for the band, do it for your music. Do it for her.”

To some, my shaky words might not have a strong belief but they did to me. It left me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without regard to the natural order of things. Keaton’s sign proved that.

“Just come back to me,” I whispered with trembling lips.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Fine Lines

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Genre: modern day au, one-shot

Rating: Explicit

cw: vaginal sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, “princess”, “slut”, somewhat self-conscious reader

Word Count: ~7.0k

Summary: A girl’s night out ends with you crossing some lines with your best friend’s brother.

Notes: Got inspired by this soundgasm I listened to that drove me wild (this is the link, listener discretion advised, put your damn headphones on before you click)! Everyone is in their mid-to-late twenties, for reference. Title inspired by the song “Fine Lines” by Jorja Smith.

Personal Notes: This is shameless smut, not much plot (although I tried). Also, I’m very much obsessed with the pet name “princess” right now, so don’t mind me as I stick it in every fucking fic I write, can’t promise I’ll ever grow tired of it. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

ao3 | my masterlist

It’s Friday night, at last the start of the weekend. Work has been particularly stressful the past few days. New projects, useless meetings, upcoming deadlines; it’s never-ending. In need to let loose after being tightly wound this whole week, you suggest to your best friends, Mikasa and Sasha, for a girl’s night out. Dinner, drinks, dancing, and trashy food to end the night of debauchery. Just what you need to relax.

At Mikasa’s apartment, the three of you gather inside her bedroom, blasting a party hits playlist as you all get ready. Sasha, eating a sandwich for a pre-game snack, sits beside on you on the carpet, the two of you applying your make-up in front of the closet mirror while Mikasa tries on outfits. “Does this look okay?” She presents herself to them in her black, strappy two-piece.

Sasha whistles. “Hot mama!”

You smile, agreeing. “Stunning!”

She blushes, always appreciative of the support. “Thanks.”

Suddenly, there’s aggressive knocking on the door. She opens it to find her brother and roommate, Eren, glaring at her. “Can you lower it? It’s so fucking loud.”

She rolls her eyes, tapping her phone to lower the volume. “Don’t you wear headphones?”

“I was wearing headphones and I still couldn’t hear Jean or Connie because of your fucking music.”

“Alright, alright, I lowered it, okay?”

“Thank you.” He glances over to you and Sasha, watching them argue. You quickly look away to avoid his gaze, staring back at the mirror.

“Where are you three going tonight?” he asks, directing his question to his sister.

“Dinner in Stohess, then dancing at Club Paradis.”

“What’s the occasion?”

From the reflection of the mirror, you see Mikasa point her thumb at you. “Just a girl’s night. She’s been stressed at work and wants to let off some steam.”

Eren looks at you, your back turned to them as you pretend to not be listening. “Well, have fun.”

“What are you up to today?” Mikasa asks.

“Just gaming with Jean and Connie. Armin’s out of town at a work conference, so it’ll be an uneventful weekend.” He pauses before directing his question at you. “So, I’m assuming you’ll get super drunk tonight? Will I need to take care of you again?”

You whip around to face him, cheeks hot with embarrassment, recalling the incident he’s referring to. “Hey, to be fair, your rooms are right next to each other, it was an honest mistake! And I already made up for it, remember?”

A few weeks ago, following another girl’s night, you stumbled into Eren’s room by mistake and made yourself comfortable in bed next to him. And almost threw up on his sheets. Luckily, he caught wind of what was about to happen, and he led you into the bathroom, where he held your hair as you began to vomit the results of your excessive drinking. As thanks, you cooked a delicious dinner for both him and Mikasa the following day, complete with his favorite dessert: brownies. Specifically, you’re signature brownies.

Chuckling, he responds, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing you. Good thing you didn’t actually throw up on my sheets. Then you’d be in real big trouble.” The smirk he gives you sends a flutter bellow your belly.

Mikasa glares at him. “Gross. Stop flirting and get out of here, we’re trying to get ready.”

He obeys, yelling out, “Have fun tonight!” before retreating into his room.

As you finish the rest of your ensemble, your mind is focused on Eren. You’ve known him for nearly ten years now, ever since you and Mikasa became roommates freshman year of college. They weren’t biologically related, Mikasa being adopted into his family from a young age, but they were closer than most blood-related siblings were. The two of them, along with their childhood friend, Armin, were inseparable. And as Mikasa’s best friend outside of this close-knit circle, it was only natural that you became well acquainted with the other two, especially her brother.

It's no secret that he’s always been attractive. You’ve listened to too many rants from Mikasa about all the different girls he was messing around with in college. She criticized him often for dating fine women without ever wanting to commit to them. These tirades began to fade after graduation. It’s been a while since you heard any news about his love life, but you’re always too shy to pry.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about him in a romantic sense. He’s always been kind to you, harboring a soft spot for his sister’s best friend. It’s never been more than that, though. You’re certain that’s the only way he sees you. And it’s not as if you’ve ever made any attempts to flirt with him. There’s an unspeakable boundary that you don’t dare cross, fearing the repercussions. Rejection, potential harm to the relationship you’ve built through the years. It isn’t worth it to jeopardize what you currently have.

Still, there’s no harm in fantasizing about it, as long as no one else knows. Right?

Make-up done, you slip into your little black dress, resulting in another whistle from Sasha. Mikasa twirls you with a smile. “Gorgeous.”

“So what’s the plan tonight, ladies? Shall we play a little game?” Sasha suggests with a devious grin. “Last time, it was drinks. Maybe this time, we’ll do phone numbers?”

“I’m down for that,” Mikasa agrees, adjusting the volume of the music even lower.

“You in?” Sasha looks to you for confirmation.

You shrug. “Sure.”

“What’s wrong?”

It takes a while for you to respond, ashamed to admit it out loud. “I never win these things. I rarely ever get hit on.”

“That’s because you’re too shy! You have to put yourself out there!”

You fall onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t think that’s it. Maybe I’m too ugly.”

“Stop! We don’t tolerate that kind of talk in this household!” Mikasa yells, sitting next to you.

“I will slap you if you say that again,” Sasha threatens.

“Not only are you two gorgeous, but you are also great at flirting. I’m just going to be sipping my drink alone while all the men flock towards you. But that’s fine! I’m fine. I’m happy to be a wing woman!”

Maybe it’s the stress of the work week putting you in this bizarre self-pitying state. You’re not usually like this. Or maybe you’ve been hiding it all along. It’s not as if you don’t have any experience when it comes to this. You’ve been on your fair share of dates, none of which have ever panned out to anything serious. Ever since you started working at your current job, you’ve been having a bit of a dry spell, too preoccupied with your career to focus on romance. Tonight, the burden of the past few years is finally taking its toll.

With your innermost thoughts already laid bare in front of your friends, you confess, “I just wish I could hook up with a guy tonight. Just sex. No strings attached.”

“Well, if you announce it like that, I guarantee you’ll find a guy who’ll want to fuck you,” Sasha laughs.

Mikasa adds, “Guys are easy. They go dumb if you bat your eyelashes or laugh at their jokes. It’s as simple as that.”

“Is it really? I don’t think I have that power...”

“It’s because you’re too shy! Don’t worry, we’ll find you a man tonight. We’ll make it happen.”

Sasha is the last to get changed, donned in a black dress similar to yours. Before requesting a ride, the three of you move to the kitchen, where you down a few shots of tequila. The burn of the liquor awakens your senses, prepping you for a fun night with your friends and hopefully, a guy to satisfy your sexual needs.

Sasha checks her phone, groaning. “The surcharge is insane right now. It’s going to be this much just to get to Stohess!” She shows her screen, displaying the ridiculous cost.

Hiccupping, Mikasa says, “Ah! I got an idea.”

Stumbling towards Eren’s door, she knocks a few times until he answers, headphones around his neck, an annoyed expression on his face. “What?”

“Can you please give us a ride to dinner? It’s super expensive right now. And it’s only ten minutes away!” She puts her hands together in a prayer pose, pleading with him.

Glaring, he replies, “I’m in the middle of a game right now.”

Sasha joins in on the begging, standing beside Mikasa. “Eren, please! We’ll make it up to you!”

He crosses his arms, expression softening, slightly amused now. “How?”

The two girls stare at each other, thinking harder than usual because of the alcohol taking its effect. “She’ll cook you dinner again!” Mikasa points to you. “She’ll cook you whatever you want!

You step towards them, yelling, “Don’t just volunteer me like that!”

He looks at you with the same smirk as earlier. Even in your almost tipsy state, you feel the familiar sensation in your abdomen.

“I’ll only do it if she bakes me my favorite brownies.”

“She will! She’ll do it!”

He removes his headphones, throwing on a hoodie before turning off the lights to his bedroom. “Alright, you drunks. Let’s go then.”

~~~

The three women follow him to the door, thanking him profusely as they strap on their heels. Inside the car, Mikasa and Sasha claim the backseat, while she rides as passenger. While the two struggle to put on their seatbelts, she stares forward, avoiding Eren’s gaze as he pulls out of the garage. Quiet enough for only her to hear, he murmurs, “I guess you’re my passenger princess for tonight.”

“Huh?”

He smiles at her, but doesn’t repeat himself, turning his attention on the road.

They’ve known each other for a while now, ever since freshman year of college. She was Mikasa’s roommate, and eventually, best friend, aside from Eren and Armin. She’s always had that charming smile on her face, matching her magnetic personality. He never really noticed how alluring her energy was until recently. He’s not sure what changed, but something did. He pays attention to her now.

Today, he overhears them talking on the other side of the wall. Eren didn’t have his headphones in while him, Connie, and Jean took a break from their game.

I just wish I could hook up with a guy tonight.

Just sex.

No strings attached.

These words, coming from her mouth in particular, pique his interest.

It’s not that he wasn’t attracted to her before. He just never really thought of her outside of being Mikasa’s sweet, innocent friend. All he knows is that they’ve been acquainted long enough to know that they get along well. Sometimes really well, sharing similar humor, music tastes, favorite foods. Little details that used to be insignificant, but now, seeing her in a new light, means something more.

He'd be fooling himself if he says he’s never thought about it. Of course he has. The common trope of fucking your sister’s best friend, it’s a story that’s been written countless times in television, literature, even porn. Is it possible that this fictional cliché can become a reality? The idea floats around in his head as he drives them to the restaurant. Sasha and Mikasa are obnoxiously giggling to themselves, looking at their phones. His passenger joins in on their conversation. “What are you two giggling about back there?”

“We’re trying to find potential candidates for you.”

Eren is definitely listening now. He tries not to smile to himself as she exclaims, “What?!”

“We’re checking out all the guys in the area. Oooohhh, what about him?” Sasha turns her screen towards the front, showing a picture of a shirtless man. Literally just a naked torso, no face at all. “I can message him to meet us at the club after dinner!”

“Don’t!”

“Why not? I thought you were trying to fuck tonight!”

“Sasha!” She buries her face in her hands as Mikasa cracks up.

“Oh hey! Maybe Eren knows someone he can set you up with! Got any single friends who are down to fuck?”

Sasha and Mikasa cackle together as she turns to him, expression horrified. “Ignore everything they’re saying, oh my god.”

He teases, “What if I do know someone?”

Mikasa leans forward, now curious. “Who? You better not set her up with Reiner. You know he would eat her up alive.”

“It’s not Reiner.”

“Then who?”

He pulls up to restaurant, still not answering the question. Sasha and Mikasa hastily exit the car, thanking Eren for the ride. She takes a while longer to undue her seatbelt. He takes this opportunity to say, “Good luck tonight.”

Groaning, she mutters, “I can’t believe Sasha. I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Hey, nothing embarrassing about it. We all have needs.”

“Well, if I fail tonight, maybe you can introduce me to that friend of yours one day,” she jokes.

“Sure. I can even introduce you to him tonight.”

She laughs, not fully grasping what he’s trying to say. “Yeah. Right. Anyways, thanks for the ride.”

He watches her exit the car, the hem of her sexy black dress riding up along her thigh as she steps out. Hoping that she does strike out tonight, for his sake.

~~~

Dinner goes by smoothly, the meal delicious as always, drinks flowing freely to continue setting the mood for the night. The three of you linger at the restaurant for a little while, sipping on more cocktails as you digest your food, preparing yourselves for a long night of dancing.

By the time it’s 10:30 PM, you make your way a few blocks down to Club Paradis, a crowd of people already lined up at the door. Luckily for you, Sasha’s friend, Nic, is one of the chef’s at this establishment when it’s a restaurant during the day. The bouncer, who recognizes her, let’s you all in immediately, without issue.

Inside, the DJ has already started their set, EDM music blaring through the speakers. The first thing you do is head to the bar. Mikasa, right off the bat, works her magic and has a guy buy the first round. In turn, she also gets his number, starting the little game.

Sasha manages to charm her way into sharing a table with a trio of men, getting their digits in exchange. Two of them chat with Sasha as the other tries to flirt with Mikasa, leaving you on the side, sipping on your cocktail, as predicted.

When the dancefloor starts filling up and the DJ begins to play the popular club hits, the three of you abandon the table to start dancing. Throughout the night, more men approach your friends, sometimes dancing beside them or attempting to dance with them. Mikasa and Sasha end up rejecting their advances, deserting the phone number game. The three of you dance until your feet are tired, throats sore from singing along, and heads pleasantly dizzy from the buzz of the alcohol. By the time it’s past 1:30 AM, you’ve forgotten about your desire to hook up, too immersed in having a blast with your friends.

Being the least drunk, you request a ride on your app, Mikasa and Sasha both leaning against you, still giggly, but exhausted. The car arrives, the three of you cramming into the back as the driver takes you to the apartment. Sasha whines to you about fast food, reminding her that there is a frozen pizza waiting to be baked at home.

It’s about 2:00 AM now as the three of you shuffle into Mikasa’s apartment. You immediately preheat the oven before following your besties into the bedroom to start the tedious process of turning down for the night.

When you hear the distinct beep from the kitchen, you scurry over to pop the pizza in the oven, setting the timer for ten minutes. You continue to remove the rest of your makeup and by the time you’re done washing your face, comfy in your silky, floral-print pajamas, the pizza is done. Resting it on top of the stove, you walk back into Mikasa’s room to find your two friends passed out on the bed, snoring peacefully. Chuckling to yourself, you turn the lights off and close the door quietly, leaving them to their slumber.

In the kitchen, with the pizza cool enough to touch, you cut yourself a large slice and start eating, leaning against the counter, scrolling through social media with your free hand. The sound of a door creaking open startles you, until you see Eren step out of his bedroom, dressed in a white t-shirt and dark grey sweats. Man-bun in all its glory.

“You’re still up?” you question, mouth full of the bite of pizza you just took.

“Yeah, I just finished playing with Jean and Connie. The smell of pizza lured me out,” he responds, smiling.

“Help yourself. Your sister and Sasha fell asleep, so I won’t be able to finish this on my own.”

He cuts himself a large slice, sliding it onto a paper plate that you put out on the counter prior. The two of you eat in silence, you pretending to be distracted by your phone when really, you’re waiting for him to initiate conversation. When you’re finished with the pizza, you open the fridge, craving something else to eat.

“Are you stealing my snacks?” He’s behind you, closer than he’s ever been before, body pressed ever-so-slightly against you as you inspect the refrigerator.

You lean forward, sticking your ass out just a little bit. For good measure. “I would if you had anything good. All that’s here are Mikasa’s protein bars and a dozen eggs.”

He chuckles, placing his hands on your waist to push you aside. “You just don’t know where to look.” Reaching his arm into one of the compartments, he conjures a pack of vanilla pudding, handing it to you. In the cupboard above the fridge, he grabs a bag of potato chips.

“Ah, so you have your own secret stash.”

“For drunk munchies. Or even when I’m not drunk.”

“Thanks. This is just what I wanted.” You unfold the bag, reaching in for a handful, smiling.

He leans on the counter next to you, munching on his pizza. “So, how was tonight?”

“Very fun. I needed that.” You rip the seal off the pudding cup. Some of it gets on your thumb, to which you instinctually stick in your mouth to suck it off. You realize Eren watches you carefully as you do this. Nervous under his gaze, you release it from your mouth with a slight pop. “It’s been a really stressful week at work, so it was fun to have a girl’s night, not worrying about anything.” When’s the last time you and Eren actually had a conversation one-on-one like this? Has this ever happened?

He grabs a water bottle, twisting the cap off to drink a couple of gulps. When he’s done, he offers it to you. You’ve shared plenty of drinks with Mikasa, but with Eren? This is unexpected. Not wanting to make it weird, you take it, swallowing your fill until you’re properly hydrated, much thirstier than you thought.

He watches you replace the cap, setting the almost empty bottle back down on the counter. It’s odd being observed by him. You don’t remember him ever paying attention to you in this way. Why tonight of all nights? Edgy from the work week, horny and desperate for an easy release. Why is he acting this way now while you’re vulnerable?

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Hm?”

He lowers his voice, leaning in closer to you. “Did you find a guy to fuck?”

This catches you more off guard, the bluntness of it. Maybe it’s the remaining alcohol still flowing through your body, giving you liquid courage to behave out of character. Maybe it’s your desire to feel a warm body beneath you tonight. Maybe it’s the words he uttered to you earlier in the car replaying in your head that you’re just now picking up on.

What if I do know someone?

I can even introduce you to him tonight.

We all have needs.

Whatever it is, it’s driving you to match whatever crass energy he’s giving off. “If I did, would I be here right now? I’d be at his place, fucking his brains out.”

At this, he lets out an amused hum, smiling. That goddamn smile. Charming, attractive. Dangerous. “Being here with me isn’t so bad, right?” His arm is completely pressed against yours now. All this surface on the countertop free to occupy, yet he crowds you in his space.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you can do for me,” you answer, setting the barely eaten pudding cup on the table. You swallow hard, standing up straighter to muster as much confidence as you can.

He moves closer, all six feet of him towering over you. “What do you want from me?”

“You told me you know someone in case I struck out tonight. Who is he?”

“I think you know.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you sure?” It’s like asking for permission to cross the line that you’ve avoided this whole time.

“Yes, absolutely sure,” he confirms, bowing his head down towards you.

You gulp loudly, heart thumping. “Then make the first move.”

~~~

Without hesitation, he closes the gap and kisses her. He starts off soft and slow, acquainting himself to these lips he’s known for almost ten whole years, but never appreciated until now. How foolish he’s been for not getting a taste sooner.

She grasps at his chest, white tee bunched in her fists as she pulls him closer to deepen the kiss. He never knew how forward she can be. She’s always been shy, reserved. This is a new side of her he’s never seen before, and it excites him.

Her lips part, inviting his tongue in to swirl around hers. He slides his hands to her waist, thumbs slipping beneath the silky band of her pajama shorts, feeling for the fabric of her panties.

“Fuck, this is crazy,” he whispers between kisses. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Dragging his bottom lip down with her teeth, she suggests, “Should we go to your room?”

He shakes his head. “Walls are too thin. Let’s go to the couch.”

They stumble into the living room, feet shuffling against the hardwood floor, clothes tugged on here and there, little giggles exchanged between them as they fondle each other on the way to the couch. He sits down first, spreading his legs wide to display the erection outlined in the fabric of his sweats, cocky smirk plastered on his face. Palms patting the inside of his thighs, he beckons, “Come here.”

She takes her place on his lap, straddling him, skimpy boxer shorts bunched at her thighs. They keep kissing, his hands sliding under her shirt towards her chest. To his delight, she’s not wearing a bra. With a gentle pinch on both her nipples, he squeezes at her tits, still in shock that he’s feeling her like this. He starts brushing her hardening nipples with the pads of his thumbs, enjoying the way she pulls away from his lips to throw her head back in pleasure.

“You like having your nipples played with, don’t you?”

Biting her lower lip, she nods, gripping his shoulders like reins to hold herself steady for the ride. He brings her face close to his again, lips grazing her ear as he whispers, “Do you ever think about me? Like this?”

He’s genuinely curious. Now that he thinks about it, there has been an instance or two when she’s appeared in his mind during a late-night quick release. Particularly after seeing her wrapped in only a towel after coming out of the shower whenever she sleeps over. He never thought anything of it, just an innate reaction to seeing a woman almost completely bare. It’s instinct for him to wonder what marvel is hidden underneath if that towel conveniently slipped off. What her naked body, slick and dewy from that steamy shower, would look like in front of him. Or beneath him. Even riding him.

It's only natural to think of his sister’s best friend, of his friend, this way. Right?

Maybe not. Lost in the jumble that is his psyche, he’s definitely thought about it, and not just once, not twice. Many times, he realizes. Somewhere in the middle of all his other depraved fantasies, she’s been there without him even noticing. Until now.

This may be a mistake. It might ruin whatever relationship they’ve developed throughout the years. It doesn’t matter though, because all of those worries fade away as soon as she breathes out the answer to his question. “Yeah, I do. I think about you a lot.”

It’s the go-ahead, the green light. They’ve both stepped over the line now; at this point, it doesn’t even exist. She wants this just as much as he does. Nothing else matters except for the two of them, sitting on this couch, fulfilling each other’s shameless needs.

She hoists her top off, breasts completely exposed for him now, his hands still squeezed firmly around them. He takes one and latches his lips to it, sucking hard until it’s taut in his mouth, listening to her whine in ecstasy. With a loud pop, he releases her, brushing his lips along her plump nipple. “You like having your nipples sucked, huh?”

“Mm-hm. Do that other one.”

He laughs softly. “So demanding. So greedy. I never knew you were like this.”

“I guess the secret’s out,” she says, smiling before kissing him hard on the lips.

He breaks away to play with her other nipple, causing her to moan even louder. With his free hand, he covers her mouth gently, her wet lips puffing warm breath into his palm. Unable to resist temptation, he teases his fingers into her mouth, pleasantly surprised when she sticks them in farther, tongue licking around his digits.

Another loud pop as he let’s go of her tit, cursing. He pumps his fingers in and out of her mouth, coating her spit all over him. “You’re nasty. You’re really fucking nasty. Tell me what you want me to do with these wet fingers.”

Still licking at his hand, she muffles, “Touch me.”

Through the opening of her shorts, he slips past her panties, sliding his fingers along her pussy, slick and creamy with her arousal. His cock is unbelievably hard, but he doesn’t want to rush this. He wants to take his time with her, familiarize himself with her body, memorize each beautiful crevice he gets to explore tonight. There’s no telling what will happen to them after this. He’s taking this opportunity and making the most out of it in case this never happens again.

Finding her clit, he rubs his middle finger against it, pressing it firm enough to have her trembling above him. “Fuck,” she breathes out. “Eren.”

The rasp of his name in that sultry, desperate tone makes his cock twitch. He uses his free hand to start palming his erection through his sweats, thankful that he had the foresight to change into these before he stepped out of his room, knowing it was her out in the kitchen, alone.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just now that he had this revelation. Who is he really kidding? He’s wanted this for a while now. He buried it in the back of his mind because it was too taboo, too forbidden. That just made him yearn for it more. And tonight, it all comes to head. Finally.

“You’re getting so wet for me with just my fingers.” He slides his hand underneath his pants to fist his shaft. “Bet I could make it juicier if I eat you out.”

“Sounds promising,” she smirks, grinding against him. Leaning past his ear, she whispers, “But I want to try something else first.”

His abdomen tightens, anticipating what she has in mind. “What?”

She dismounts him to kneel on the carpet, head positioned between his thighs, staring lustfully at him. “You know what.”

Shifting forward in his seat, he asks, “You want to suck my dick? This fat cock in front of you? Is that what you want?”

“I want to see what all those girls in college were making such a big fuss about.”

He lets out a short laugh, lifting his torso to slide his sweats and boxers off simultaneously, his rigid cock springing free from its confines. “How do you know about my slut era? Did Mikasa tell you?”

“Maybe,” she replies, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking.

He moans quietly, not wanting to reveal how fucking desperate he is for her. “Were you jealous whenever she’d tell you about all the girls I fucked?”

“Maybe,” she repeats, giving him a soft kiss on the tip, small string of precum connected to her lips. He’s stares at her, capturing a mental picture of this for future reference.

“Do you wish I fucked you back then?” His curiosity is getting the best of him.

Shaking her head, she answers, “No. Because now, I get to have you all to myself.” Mouth formed in an oval shape, she sinks down onto his cock, the tip completely engulfed in her warm saliva.

He uses every ounce of willpower not to bust right there. Who is this woman? Where has she been this whole time? And why hasn’t this happened sooner?

“Fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes. “That feels good. Fuck.”

She blows him, her fist working the base as her head bobs along the shaft, movements in sync with each other to stimulate every fiber of his being. It’s been a while since a blowjob has felt this good. Maybe it’s because it’s her. Sweet, innocent, wholesome her. Or so he thought. The fact that his perception of her has been blown out the window, replaced with the side he’s always secretly pined for. This is what does it for him.

He keeps his eyes shut for the most part, the sight of her with hollowed cheeks, milking the fucking life out of him, too lewd to watch. When he does, she looks up at him with a twinkling gaze, enjoying it.

“Fuck,” he moans, a little louder this time.

She slides off him, hand still stroking his cock, slick with spit and precum, index finger to her puffy lips, shushing him, “Be a good boy and keep your voice down.”

Holy fuck. Any morsel of control he has left is quickly withering away. “I’m going to come,” he tells her, rocking his hips in sync with her strokes. In an instant, her lips are latched around him again. He comes in her mouth, some of it spilling down onto his pelvis. She removes her hand to sink lower to the base, swallowing the rest.

There’s a brief moment of silence as he basks in the glory of his orgasm, head lolled against the cushions, mind blank except for the euphoria spreading to the rest of his body. It’s only when he hears her giggle that he is brought to his senses. He lifts his head up to face her, observing the naughty smile formed at her lips.

Grinning, he murmurs, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

She stands up to sit next to him on the couch. “We? Excuse me, but I did all the work.”

Turning towards her, he leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I guess it’s time for me to do my part, then.”

Lying on the couch with Eren on top, he hastily pulls off her pajama bottoms along with her soaked panties, now completely naked. He takes a few seconds to stare at her, admiring how much sweeter it is to see her like this with his own eyes instead of in his imagination.

“Quit looking at me like that,” she waves at him. “You’re making me self-conscious.”

“Self-conscious? About what? This fucking gorgeous body you’ve been hiding from me?” he teases, tracing his fingers along her sides, down to the hips.

“Shut up,” she whispers, turning away. She’s so fucking cute, he can’t stand it.

“No way. I’m not going to stop talking about this beautiful face,” he says, leaning down to scatter kisses all over her cheeks. “Or your soft skin,” more smooches trailing her stomach. “And I definitely won’t shut up about this perfect pussy I’m about to devour.” With that, he spreads her thighs wide to lap his tongue on her clit, hearing her gasp quietly above him, hand covering her mouth.

Delighted by her reaction, he hums against her skin, lips puckered at her bud, toying with her sleek folds. He flattens his tongue and slides it side to side while he slips his middle finger in her.

“Oh fuck!” she cries into her palm. He puts his ring finger in along with his middle, thrusting into her while he eats her out sloppily, drool smearing all over her already sticky arousal. She tastes even better than he imagined, her creamy arousal luscious on his tongue, the lewd smell of sex surrounding his nostrils, priming him to go completely wild on her. It hasn’t been long since his first orgasm, but he feels the blood pulsing into his cock, getting harder and harder the more he indulges in her.

He doesn’t want to fuck her just yet. No, he wants her to gush all over his fucking face, and he knows exactly what to do to put her over the edge.

Pulling away briefly, lips and chin shiny with her arousal, he growls, “Sit on my face.”

“What?”

“Sit on my face,” he repeats.

“Are you sure?” She sits up, uncertainty evident in her expression.

Growing impatient, he guides her on top of him, shimmying across the couch to position himself just right. “Don’t make me say it again,” he warns, hands on her hips, as she mounts his face, her knees surrounding his head. She hovers above him, too timid to do it properly.

He grips her tighter, shoving her pussy into his face, tongue lapping up her leaking juices, swallowing noisily so she knows just how good he’s drinking her up. His hand smooths over her ass cheek, tapping it lightly. He wants so badly to spank her, punish her for hiding this from him all these years. Discipline her for depriving him for so long.

“Ride it,” he demands, loosening his grip, letting her be in control. Without question this time, she does, rocking her hips back and forth against his face, pussy dragging on every inch of it. Dousing him, quenching him, smothering him. She’s whimpering now, lost in the heat of passion, fondling her own tits to feel even more as she grinds on his mouth. He’s tempted to jerk off, but it’ll be too much; it’s already enough for him to come untouched.

In a small voice, she mutters, “Coming.” He sucks on her clit hard until her voice goes a pitch higher, then sticks his tongue into her slit, licking her insides while his nose jams into her sensitive bud.

When she’s down from her high, she’s gently gets off him, a guilty look on her face as she reaches for the box of tissues on the coffee table next to the couch, handing it to him. He sits up, face even shinier with her cum, and refuses. Smiling, he starts collecting her slick off with his fingers, sucking them clean into his mouth.

She shoves him playfully. “Don’t!” she hisses.

He continues to grin, pulling her into a sloppy kiss. “You taste fucking amazing,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against hers. “So yummy.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” she says, smiling. She toys with the hem of his shirt that he’s still wearing. “Do you want to stop? Or…?”

“Oh, we’re definitely not done yet,” he states, hoisting his shirt off.

Her eyes widen at the reveal of his sculpted chest and abdomen, then down at his stiff cock sprung against it. He laughs, catching her ogling him. “You’re going to help me deal with this, right?”

“Yeah. How do you want me to do it?”

“You tell me, princess.”

She grins at this, biting her lip. “I like that. Princess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling her towards him, he whispers, “Show me what else you like.”

~~~

You get into a similar position as earlier, you on top of Eren, straddling his lap as he sits against the couch. This time, however, you’re both completely naked and messier than before, all the evidence from both of your orgasms sticky between your bodies. Lifting up, you align his cock with your wet slit, guiding it in slowly. It’s no surprise that he’s robust. It’s even bigger than you imagined, especially as you sink deeper onto it, his girth stretching you more than his fingers could.

When he’s all the way in, you take a sharp breath, adjusting to his size. He doesn’t rush you; instead, he waits patiently, holding your hips tenderly with his forehead pressed to yours, watching you. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that beautiful head of his.

A few moments of this and you ease up on him. You lift off slightly, then sink back down, repeating this until it’s a fluid motion, whimpering when you feel him reach your G-spot. After a few more deep thrusts, you let out a particularly loud moan, resulting in both your hand and his covering your mouth. You giggle quietly with each other.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he laughs, gazing at you.

“That’s because you’re fucking me so good,” you respond, riding him faster. You take his hand and guide it to your arousal, begging him to touch you while you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Fuck, you’re bad. You’re so fucking bad,” he growls, sticking out his thumb to massage your sensitive bud. “What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? Deep down, you’re just a naughty fucking slut, aren’t you? Begging to be fucked tonight.”

His obscene words twist around your core, getting you closer and closer to another climax. “Say more dirty things to me, Eren,” you demand, bouncing on his lap, his thumb strumming your clit ruthlessly.

“Oh fuck, you’re so nasty,” he whispers, panting. “Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, oh my god.” He fucks you, hands tight on your ass, feet rooted into the carpet, couch creaking noisily in the quiet of the living room. But it doesn’t matter because you’re almost there. Just a little bit more.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” he spits out, breath hot on your ear. “Acting like a good girl when you’re really just a nasty fucking slut. You know exactly what you do to me.”

“What do I do to you? Tell me.” Sweat beads off your forehead, his eyes animalistic, peering into yours as he rails you.

“You drive me fucking crazy. The way you flaunt yourself in front of me. Teasing me with that innocent smile. You’re just a naughty girl who needs to get fucked.”

“Ah, fuck me, Eren. Fuck me, fuck me! Make me come!” you cry, riding him fast.

“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming,” he groans, holding you tighter in his arms. His warm cum shoots inside you as you orgasm on his twitching cock.

He cradles you gently for a minute before asking, “Did you come? Please tell me you did.”

Nodding weakly, face nestled into his neck, you answer, “I did.”

“Good,” he says, kissing you on your shoulder. “Good.” His arms wrap you in a snug embrace, massaging your back tenderly.

“Do you think they heard us?” you ask.

“I’m pretty sure Mikasa would have come out by now to kick both our asses, so I think we’re good,” he chuckles.

Pulling away to face him, you mutter, “Thank you. For tonight. I really needed this.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, grinning. “Always happy to help. You know that you can come to me for anything, right?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends.” It almost seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He ends it there, still smiling at you.

You lean forward to give him one more kiss on the lips. “We should probably clean up and go to bed before we really do get caught.”

“Right. I’ll see you in the morning?” He phrases it in the form of a question, like he’s unsure.

“Yes, I’ll see you in the morning,” you reassure him, extracting your sticky self from his body.

Without another word, you walk away into the bathroom to clean yourself up and brush your teeth, mind racing with the realization of what just occurred. When you’re done, you exit and find him standing in the kitchen, dressed back in his sweats, waiting for you to use the bathroom. Before you sneak into Mikasa’s room to finally call it a night, you tiptoe towards him and kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”

He blushes, eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “Goodnight, princess.”

~~~

Eren retreats into his room, ready for a good night’s sleep. He checks his phone for the time; almost 3:30 AM. In bed, he rolls to his side to face the wall he shares with his sister’s room, wondering if his special friend is still awake like he is.

Friends. He didn’t think it through before saying it. It was a spur of the moment comment, one made from nerves and anxiety surrounding the aftermath of their actions. Tonight, they crossed a line that most friends do not. What will happen to them now?

He grabs another pillow and hugs it, wishing it was her. Realizing that he doesn’t want to be friends with her at all, but something else. Something more.

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren yeager

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen.

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene.

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all.

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end.

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is.

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you.

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that.

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions.

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his.

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away.

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago.

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it.

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series.

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing.

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too.

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either.

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early.

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow.

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to.

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real.

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new.

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers.

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did.

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changes a lot. And it changes pretty quickly.

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away.

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights.

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance.

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for.

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here.

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours.

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does.

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career.

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly.

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home.

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved.

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them.

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection.

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return.

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it.

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled.

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds.

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up.

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician.

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer.

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs.

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them.

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about.

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about.

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court.

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating.

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much.

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore.

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along.

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look.

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are.

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person.

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went.

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer.

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance.

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away.

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to overestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim.

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself.

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk.

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that.

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise.

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes.

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again.

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent.

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says.

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse.

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends.

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again.

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place.

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot.

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside.

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away.

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life.

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all.

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown.

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them.

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down.

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear.

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it.

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well.

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink.

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families.

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying.

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were.

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy.

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead.

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again.

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile.

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums.

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting.

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence.

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him.

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that.

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.”

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you.

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay.

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for.

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long.

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both.

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly.

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out.

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are.

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget?

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now.

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier.

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in.

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit.

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him.

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display.

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs.

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head.

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out.

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly.

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know? That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away.

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you.

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well.

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this.

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads.

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened.

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?”

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement.

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you.

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision.

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it.

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same.

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop, a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from.

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence.

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through.

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether.

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone.

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little.

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is.

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier.

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway.

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence.

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now.

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…”

You.

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t.

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though.

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay.

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply.

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

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