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jensettermandu · 4 months

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A.D.I.D.A.S - huh yunjin

(All Day, I Dream About Sex)

genre; smut

pairing; desperate!yunjin x mean!fem reader

content; degrading, humiliation, yunjin being turned on by Y/n being mean, slightly perverted yunjin (lowkey simps for reader and is down bad), some breast play, cunnilingus (giving and receiving reader), fingering, some praising, spitting, choking, breath-play, a bit of thigh slapping, dom!reader/sub!yunjin

synopsis; yunjin's exams are coming up and among spending hours studying, her new neighbor seems to be a noisy metal-head who blasts music from morning to night. whenever she doesn't blast music, she's shredding on the guitar. yunjin is losing her mind after being ridiculed every time she's asked if she can tone it down, the frustrations getting the best of her. although, the guitarist knows just what is needed to help her relax.

wc; 8.8k+

masterlist

She tried to ignore it at first, to just deal with it and pretend that the noise didn’t exist. When that didn’t work she tried to put on headphones and blast her music, but it made it hard to focus.

Yunjin’s new neighbour had a thing for loud music.

She wouldn’t mind it at all because she loved music, she even played instruments, but this wasn’t her genre of music.

The lyrics were vulgar or dark, straight angst. The sounds were pure noise in her ears and she couldn’t phantom who willingly listened to distorted electric guitar riffs, pounding drums or vigorous vocals.

It was safe to say that Yunjin hadn’t managed to become a fan of nu-metal or any other of the metal subgenres.

If her neighbour wasn’t blasting music, they were seemingly playing it themselves on an electric guitar. She was starting to wonder if she was the only one bothered by this, but at the same time, she lived on the top floor which was mostly empty.

With exams coming up, the girl was already on the brink of a breakdown and was tense. Now a neighbour she had never seen with her eyes was blasting music every time she tried to study which was all the time. She had opted for libraries and cafés but they didn’t compare to sitting in the comfort of her home.

Despite it making her feel like a nag and not something she wanted to be she found herself leaving the apartment to finally try and convince her neighbour to agree to tone it down. Just the thoughts were making her skin crawl because she had always been a person who liked music and didn’t get bothered by someone else. She minded her business and lived on with her life.

She closed her door and took what were three steps to reach the door where music was sounding muffled from the other side. With a hand running through her hair, she sighed and knocked at last–

And again.

Once again.

A frustrated sigh left her lips as she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting as the person on the other side didn’t even hear her knocking. This time she banged on the door, it was hurting her knuckles at this point as they were bright red by now.

The music got turned down and she knocked one last time before flailing her hand and dropping it to her side while she waited for the door to open. She was praying for it to be someone kind and not an asshole. The girl had no clue what to expect because she could have a perceived idea about who was on the other side, but she decided against it.

Her heart picked up when the girl who was just an inch taller opened the door.

It just had to be the campus mean girl she had been avoiding at all costs because despite her slim figure she was sure the girl could swallow her whole.

Y/n Y/l/n who was the lead guitarist in a band was in a whole different division compared to Yunjin.

“Who are you?”

It made the redhead's lips part as she felt insulted after having most of her classes with the dark-haired girl for the past year.

“Neighbour–I’m your neighbour.” She stated, gathering her words that withered. This had been the closest she’d been to the girl–no, the closest was when she once sat right beside her in English. God, how was she the only one to remember?

The scent of vanilla was still the same, the girl was dressed in low-waisted jeans, a cropped tight shirt, star tattoos going right beside her hip bones that were protruding, her nose pierced, the same went to her belly button and when she glanced at her lips that moved she could see the silver bell on her tongue.

“Okay?” Y/n asked, somewhere between confused and maybe weirded out over why the girl was knocking on her door.

Why was she being so rude? That was all Yunjin could think about.

Or maybe Yunjin was being sensitive because her tensed self was on the brink of losing her sanity and now her new neighbour was a metal-blasting asshole.

She shifted on her feet, the slightly taller girl leaning her weight against the door frame.

“I just wanted to ask if you could maybe–the music, you know.”

“I don’t know,” her tone was bored, monotone and lifeless as her eyes stared at the ginger, slept in eye shadow, dressed in grunge with the same makeup style.

Despite these being waters Yunjin had never tested, the girl was undeniably hot. It was like a morbid curiosity. Yunjin was scared of Y/n but also intrigued and curious about the girl. She wanted to touch but also hide.

“It’s kind of loud and I am trying to study, but the noise makes it hard.”

Y/n held onto the door frame and leaned forward, coming closer to the girl who tried to stand her ground. On the inside, she was shaking with how nervous she was, crumbling under Y/n’s cold stare and resting bitch face.

“I take offence, noise is a genre of its own and not all metal is noise, and not all noise is metal.” Yunjin pursed her lips at the haughty smirk on Y/n’s lips and she had a feeling the girl was only trying to mock her, to get her angry, to just mess with her.

“Sorry for offending you, but I have exams coming up and I don’t want to listen to someone screaming shove it, or being cut up and then fucked up.” It did work because she felt her temper grow short and all she wanted was to get it over.

“You just went from hot to less hot by not liking Deftones or Slipknot.”

“What–” She was somewhat stunned to hear that the girl found her hot, but she didn’t get to put in another word when the door shut in front of her face. Before she knew it the music started to pound once again.

All the girl could do was complain to her friends over the phone while being on the verge of tears because of the stress and her neighbour being hot, but also mean and it had bruised her ego when she got called less hot for not liking whatever bands she had mentioned.

Instead of heading home the next day she stayed in the college library to study and would just walk home late.

It wasn’t long until her peace was disturbed by the loud steps echoing through the library and she looked up from her laptop after hours. Her eyes scanned around her and at last, she spotted none other than Y/n and the band she played in. She averted her gaze back to her things when those intense eyes caught hers staring, but she still did a subtle glance to do damage control and see if she had been caught–

Why was Y/n heading her way? She was growing nervous and anxious once again.

Yunjin tried her best to look as occupied as possible, but it wasn’t long until the lead guitarist pulled out a chair. The chair creaked along the wooden floor and Yunjin winced, looking up at Y/n who sat down in front of her.

“What’re you doing here?” She asked as she slumped back in the chair while crossing her arms. The girl played with her pierced tongue as she raised her eyebrows at the girl across from her.

“I study here.”

“You do?” Y/n asked, surprise lacing her tone and Yunjin couldn’t determine if she was serious or not when they had so many classes together.

She didn’t get to reply because Y/n was full of herself. “You sure you’re not following me?”

Her lips pursed into a forced smile at the dark-haired girl who licked her plump lips that were glistening with lip gloss. The ginger cursed God for letting a self-entitled asshole be hot.

“Are you serious?” Yunjin asked in disbelief, heaving a sigh at the annoyance the girl was causing her. Y/n nodded with wide eyes, looking dead serious about the whole thing.

“We have the same classes, you always sit at the back and see everyone–”

“Oh, so…You’re stalking me?” The urge to drill Y/n’s head through each shelf of books was strong.

“I am not.” She hissed, utterly annoyed with how confident Y/n was to even utter those words. The more she would try to explain or defend herself the more like a stalker she would look like.

Y/n rolled her eyes and planted her palms on the wooden table as she stood up. Yunjin quickly averted her eyes away from the girl’s cleavage as she had a spaghetti strap top on. God, Y/n knew what she was doing from how that smirk was right back. The ginger was sure she had caught her looking further down than what her eyes were.

“I’m just kidding, carrot top, no need to get offended, but no I haven’t noticed you before which I guess is somewhat of a bummer.” Now Yunjin was offended, but Y/n was already leaving her behind as she walked through the library. She was offended but was also fighting the way she felt flustered at the somewhat flirty remark from the mean girl.

She had just been called Carrot Top, BUT Y/n also said that it was a bummer she hadn’t noticed her before.

Yunjin hated Y/n, but she was also so riveting that she found herself thinking about her a bit more that day and the day after.

“Could you please turn it off or at least tone it down for an hour or two, please,” she found herself begging her neighbour. Yunjin wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to see the girl again and maybe receive a backhanded compliment once again or to be able to study. It was probably both as the girl stood leaning towards her as she held herself with both hands on either frame of the door.

“Look how cute—” Y/n started and Yunjin waited for what she would say next. “You’re pathetically begging me.” She took it as an insult and a compliment because somewhere along those lines she had been called cute in one way or another by one of the hottest and most sought-after girls on college grounds. Y/n was the type to crush a guy’s ego and spirit and make girls flash their breasts at their concerts that were attended by quite a huge crowd at a live club.

Around 500-700 people which wasn’t bad at all.

Maybe there was something wrong with Yunjin’s ears if there were so many people enjoying metal.

“Y/n—” She cut herself off as the name just slipped her lips even if they hadn’t officially introduced each other.

“Kind of expected my stalker to know my name. Do you even live here? Or do you pretend and are waiting for an opportunity to one day break into my apartment and do whatever pervy things you’ve been imagining?” Yunjin’s ears were burning hot at the girl’s words and now her mind trailed off to those pervy things because they were mentioned, but she quickly got back on track. At least she tried because they were still swimming in her head as she stared at the girl in front of her while being somewhere between drowning and getting out of the imagining.

“Everyone knows your name.”

“I know.” It made the girl roll her eyes at how confident she still was. “What’s your name?” It somewhat caught the ginger off guard. It didn’t seem likely for Y/n to ask for her name if she had been nothing but mean. The last thing she seemed to care about would be her name yet she was asking about it.

“What do you need my name for?” She asked with raised eyebrows, but it didn’t make the girl’s confidence falter.

“Well, it’s either you tell it or I call you Carrot Top.”

“Yunjin.” It was an easy choice.

“Nice to meet you Yunjin.” With that the door slammed closed once again and a few seconds after the music started to blast again.

“No, literally turn your music off or…” She trailed off, looking for what she would do if the metalhead wouldn’t turn off the music. Her brain racked for things as she found herself right outside Y/n’s door again. At this point, she just mostly wanted to look at the girl she had unfortunately grown infatuated with despite barely knowing her and only seeing her at college from afar. Y/n barely spared her a glance, but somehow that made it better. It made her feel less guilty for what she had done. Eye contact would have been difficult.

“Or?” Y/n prompted, wanting to know what would happen if she didn’t turn down her music. The only person who had been complaining was Yunjin, but she assumed that it was because the apartment next to hers was empty and the other was occupied by a deaf elderly woman.

“I don’t know, but just turn it off,” Yunjin exclaimed, the frustrations getting the best of her as she was ready to get into a verbal fight with the girl. There were so many reasons to be frustrated in the end.

“You’re angry today, aren’t you?” Y/n only questioned, further fueling the girl who looked like she was on the verge of blowing up. She found it amusing, and she was somewhat baffled by how she had missed the girl completely in her classes, but at the same time, the girl was far from the person she was right now in classes. She didn’t seem like the type to knock on doors and lose her shit.

“Yes, I am and it’s all your fault.” She blamed the girl right away who had been getting on her nerves since she woke up this Saturday because of Y/n playing electric guitar.

“What’s your problem?”

“You are my problem.”

“Why is that?” Yunjin groaned at the questions she was being asked.

“Because you move in here, blast your music, refuse to tone it down, you call me carrot top, then you give me these backhanded compliments which you shouldn’t because you are too hot to be flirting with just anyone because everyone will hope that you are serious and–”

“I am serious though. You are hot, but you would be even hotter if you liked my favourite bands and were less of a freak.” Y/n didn’t even blink or stutter when she said those words- Yunjin bit her tongue while blinking her eyes and staring at Y/n.

“I’m sorry but I hate your bands, whatever they are.”

“But you like me?” Yunjin’s eyes went wide at the question from the vixen in front of her.

“No, I hate you for being a jerk.”

“Okay, but you do find me hot, so we have mutual feelings.”

It made her more than flustered as the heat ran to her cheeks. “That’s–” Yunjin wanted to continue and argue about the music as she was frustrated and taking out her frustrations on Y/n seemed like a great option. Y/n had a quicker tongue as she cut her off once again.

“You know, guitar players are quite good at using their fingers and you look like my newest one, so, would you mind if I played you to find out how good you sound?” The abominable words made Yunjin’s lips part as something still twisted in her stomach and the heat shot south instead of north because the thoughts were stronger than Y/n’s horrible pickup line.

“I hate you.” Y/n leaned closer as she held onto the door frame, this was the closest they had been as their faces were a few mere inches apart. “How about you take it all out in my bed? You can be as loud as you want because my neighbour who complains about noise isn’t home.” It wasn’t hard to figure out that she meant Yunjin when she said those words.

The ginger was fighting all her urges.

The door slammed closed once again and this time it wasn’t in front of Yunjin’s face but behind her as Y/n pushed her into her door. It was followed by a gasp and the vixen’s slender hands with those long fingers found their way to her ass as she gripped it.

At last, she got to taste Y/n’s plump lips after watching those haughty and teasing smiles grace them. It was her first time kissing someone with a pierced tongue and Yunjin found herself eagerly sucking Y/n’s tongue into her mouth. That was enough to draw out a moan from the back of Y/n’s throat, the ring clanking against teeth before she swirled her tongue around it, toying with it.

Y/n chuckled at the eagerness of the ginger, her fingers digging into the flesh of the girl’s ass, squeezing and pushing her more into the door.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you? Have you been imagining me fucking you?” Y/n’s voice dropped an octave, clouded with lust as she pulled away from Yunjin’s plump lips. A string of saliva followed and the guitarist leaned in and licked it off of her lips. The action made heat shoot through the girl’s body, running straight to her clit. It was making her crumble and slowly lose this composure she had tried to put on to not show how needy she truly was for the girl.

She tangled her fingers in Y/n’s dark hair, her head falling back against the door to give her the space she needed to kiss along her neck. “You’re so fucking full of yourself,” Yunjin grumbled as the guitarist was cocky, but it was doing unimaginable things to her arousal.

“You’re about to be just as full of me as I am,” Y/n said with a chuckle at the words. The action made Yunjin moan when her ass got smacked and a knee got placed right between her thighs. Y/n pressed into her heated cunt that was throbbing with need and the ginger wanted nothing more than to orgasm and hope for all these frustrations to go away that were caused by her sexy neighbour and godforsaken exams.

Teeth dug into her juncture, hand running from her ass and up under her oversized shirt–only now realising that she wasn’t exactly dressed in a flattering way. She was in a pair of sweats and a shirt for comfort and she could feel Y/n smirk against her skin as she sucked right at her pulse because she had no bra on either. The girl still had her specs on as she had been in the middle of studying.

Yunjin’s hips started gyrating, grinding herself against the knee between her thighs as she couldn’t control it. The need was overwhelming and her clit was throbbing painfully. Small gasps started falling from her, bliss overtaking as she closed her eyes with her lips parted.

Y/n cupped the breast in her hand, slowly starting to knead it while getting a hold of the stiff bud. It elicited a whiny moan from the ginger when she tugged on it and the vixen pulled away from her neck which was shiny with spit and bite marks. The girl was lost, completely, fucking herself on her knee as Y/n helped guide her hips by her ass where her fingers were digging into the soft flesh.

“Fuck–I want to come, Y/n.”

“How bad do you want it?” She asked, pressing harder with her knee and watching the way it made the girl crumble as her hands fell to Y/n’s shirt, gripping it desperately. Her clit rubbed against her through the layers of clothes, the pressure tingling in her body as each second she grew more desperate. It made her humping sloppier, messier and needier to chase her high.

“So bad,” the girl whined out, light moans left her mouth. The heat was building up and the tension in her stomach grew. Y/n watched the frown cover the girl who tensed up, her jaw falling slack. “Oh fuck, so close–” That was all Y/n needed to know.

“Not bad enough.” She said, clicking her tongue as she pulled her knee away from between the girl’s thighs who let out a cry at the frustrations that got ten times worse now. All that tension went away and the only thing left was that painful pulsating of her clit.

“What?” Yunjin let out, her voice cracked in the process as it had been in a high pitch just as she was about to reach her peak. The ginger pushed her head up and her eyes were glossed over, looking at Y/n who licked her lips.

“I said, you don’t seem to want it bad enough.”

Yunjin looked over Y/n, her eyes trailing the girl’s lanky body with her chest heaving, still leaning against the door with Y/n’s hands not on her body anymore. The vixen ran a hand through her dark hair that was more messy after she had been tugging on it, a glint of mischief in her eyes and Yunjin’s stomach was doing flips because of how needy she was, but also how hot Y/n was.

She wanted to get fucked.

Not just fucked.

But fucked by Y/n.

Right now.

“Please,” she pleaded, her eyes going docile to add to it.

“Please?” Y/n questioned.

“Please fuck me, eat me out, or finger me, just please do something. I want you to fuck my pussy until I orgasm.” The words flew out so quickly that she had no clue that they did. There was no shame behind them and the only thing to show that she had some shame left in her was the tint that covered her cheeks.

“That’s pathetic,” Y/n commented and Yunjin was slowly losing it more and more as she couldn’t figure out what the girl wanted her to do anymore.

Why was getting her pussy eaten out by the lead so difficult?

“I like it,” well…

Maybe it wasn’t that hard.

Boney fingers bunched up her loose t-shirt and Yunjin was being dragged through the apartment she had assumed would look completely different as it was light in the living room and kitchen. Her preconceptions had been off–

That was until she was dragged into the room where the walls were covered in banners of what Yunjin assumed were album covers, bands, and their logos. On the wall were three electric Fender guitars hung up, one black, one white, and one pastel pink (?).

“Watch the pedals.” She almost tripped but got roughly pulled by her shirt, threads snapping in it to avoid stepping onto the board with pedals. It still left her stumbling over other wires as nothing was put away and it was messy.

“Jesus,” she complained and was pushed down to sit on the bed.

“Shut up.”

“Wha–” The girl was caught off guard, Y/n was already pushing her down on the bed and getting on top of her. Her specs got removed in the process and discarded to the side. Those same slender fingers cupped her jaw and her eyes closed at the lips that came right back onto hers. They tasted like strawberries and she found herself sucking on Y/n’s bottom lip, her hands gripping onto the slim thighs that were on each side of her body. The whole room held the scent of that strong vanilla and she was drowning in the bedsheets.

She tugged on Y/n’s bottom lip before she let go to catch her breath, panting for air under the girl who removed her shirt, revealing a black lacy bra that wasn’t leaving anything to the imagination. The shirt fell with a thud and Yunjin pushed herself up onto her elbows. Her eyes took in Y/n’s slim body as she couldn’t know if she would ever see it this way again.

“It’s a shame you don’t come to our concerts, maybe we would’ve done this much sooner.” Y/n slyly said as she grabbed the hem of Yunjin’s loose shirt and helped her pull it over her head. She bit her lower lip at the supple breasts, her two buds stiff.

“I already said that I don’t like—”

“Maybe my tongue can change your mind.” Y/n cut her off while pushing her down by the shoulder. It was mouth-watering and Yunjin craned her neck, biting her lower lip at the way Y/n glanced up at her just a mere inch away from her chest. It shot heat to her clit and her hips bucked, earning a breathless chuckle from Y/n, the air making her whine when it hit her sensitive nipple.

Her head fell back, hands trying to grip the girl’s low-waisted jeans but they weren’t baggy enough and it only let her nails dig into them. It was electrifying how Y/n toyed with her nipple, pulling it into her mouth, flicking at it and pressing the hard piercing against it before sucking. Small moans and whimpers slipped past her plump and parted lips, Y/n’s tongue warm and slick as she coated her breasts with her saliva, leaving it to get cold when she moved from one spot to another.

Y/n moved to the other breast after wetting the first one, making it easier to tease it with her fingers. The ginger kept pressing her chest into her face, hips bucking into hers and Y/n’s hips moved, pressing her clothed heat against Yunjin’s.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, getting lost in the bliss Y/n created as she played with her chest. Sucking on the soft flesh, tugging on her nipples, twisting and dragging teeth over them, biting softly and leaving the buds more swollen and her chest glistening. It was hard to focus on anything when Y/n’s jeans were pressing through her sweats and grinding down on her cunt, dragging up and down and pressing into her clit every upstroke. It was making Yunjin’s toes curl and throat run dry.

Y/n moved down, kissing down her cleavage, sucking the middle and down to her underboob, making sure to suck on the skin there too. She licked a long stripe along the underside of her right boob before sucking on it, simultaneously she flicked at her other nipple and it earned her a high cry of pain with a mix of pleasure.

“Want me to fuck you with my mouth?” Y/n questioned, mumbling against her stomach as she kissed down the skin while Yunjin was heaving under her. Her nipples aching after the treatment, wanting more of it, but also wanting Y/n’s mouth on her cunt.

Yunjin was almost embarrassed. She wanted nothing more than for Y/n to go down on her because she was leaking wet. She was quite sure it would soon be visible through her grey sweats if the lead wouldn’t remove them and slurp all her juices up. There was tension between her thighs, it had been there for a while and she wanted Y/n to do something about it.

“I want your mouth to eat me out.”

“Want me to eat you out like you’re a whore or a good girl?” Y/n questioned and Yunjin whimpered at the words that sent heat over her whole body. Her pussy was throbbing uncomfortably and Y/n was kissing just above the hem of her sweats, sitting between her legs that were spread wide for her. The guitarist hummed and cupped the girl’s heat, pressing right where she needed her with the pad of her palm, feeling hips push and subtly hump against her. The girl twisted the sheets in her fingers. “Which one are you for me?” She asked further and watched the shaky sigh that Yunjin released.

“Think you might be a whore the way you begged me to fuck you, how you’ve been coming over complaining all while imaging how it would feel to get fucked by me.” The vixen teased, rubbing the pad of her thumb against the warmth, it was enough to make the thighs quiver.

“I don’t fantasise about you.” Yunjin defended and Y/n removed her hand from her covered pussy. She sat back on her heels and wrapped her fingers around the hem of her sweats.

“The walls are thin, cutie.” Y/n teased and caught the way Yunjin’s eyes widened at the words as she had taught that the only reason why she heard Y/n’s music was because she blasted it so loudly.

“Once.” To her defence, she had been tired and horny and Y/n had just gotten on her nerves by slamming a door in her face while also giving her backhanded compliments.

Okay, she had started crushing and was desperate despite Y/n being mean to her. It left Y/n running on her mind, her pussy suddenly was wet, and she found herself in her bedroom fucking herself while thinking and “mumbling” about Y/n and what she wanted.

This was far from who the girl was, but somehow she just forgot about dignity around the Y/n.

“Still doing it–” Y/n concluded, tongue out and playing with the corner of her lip as she slowly started to pull the sweats down. The ginger lifted her hips, feeling her underwear slowly peel off of her sticky cunt. Y/n threw them off her bed, letting them fall onto the floor. Her smile wasn’t disappearing as she looked at Yunjin’s wet cunt that was glistening with juices. The vixen leaned forward, seeing how embarrassed the girl looked, her hand fell beside her head, her right coming between the younger’s legs.

The moan came right away when cold fingers ran through her folds, spreading them together with her sticky mess, only making it that much worse. She could feel it run down her ass and onto the sheets. “So desperate, such a fucking perv, fucking yourself, moaning my name and thinking about me. Should I get a restraining order?” Yunjin couldn’t comprehend it, but there was just something so hot about Y/n being so mean to her, humiliating her and degrading her.

The guitarist was very well aware of it when the girl bucked her hips at the words. Her eyes faded in bliss, losing focus and lids hooded with fingers twisting the duvet. “Come on, tell me how bad of a whore you are. Aren’t you embarrassed?” Y/n ushered, the sounds slowly occupying the room as her middle finger teased the clenching hole, barely dipping it in before she circled the greedy and sopping entrance where everything was leaking out.

“Fuck, I am, but I just want to get fucked by you at least once, Y/n.” She whined, admitting to having the hots for her new neighbour that she had found herself perving over in her head. “I’m sorry, it just happened,” she continued to whine, on the verge of tears at how embarrassing it was for her, but at the same time, it was making her cunt throb more while it was toyed with by the slender fingers she had imagined before this. Yet Y/n wasn’t touching her where she wanted her.

“You’re not sorry, I just know you will go home and continue fucking yourself while thinking of me. Tell me what you thought about when fucking yourself.”

“Your fingers deep inside me ‘cause your hands are so fucking–” She choked, two fingers stretching her hole as they slowly pushed in. Y/n watched how her lips parted, tilting her head to admire the girl better. The hands that could shred on a guitar were slender, veiny and had long fingers–she no longer had to imagine what they could reach. Y/n pushed knuckle-deep into the girl and slowly started to pump the clenching hole while curving up and caressing her g-spot. The sopping sounds her pussy was producing was shameful because of how wet Y/n was able to make her with just some words and touching.

They barely knew each other, but Yunjin was already giving up her dignity for the vixen.

“How you would play with my clit,” her back arched when Y/n pressed the pad of her thumb against her clit, pressing against it, slowly circling it and letting Yunjin fuck herself against her. “I wanted your hands around my neck and your spit in my mouth for being so fucking bad and thinking about fucking you when I barely know you.” Y/n bit her lower lip, her fingers being squeezed as Yunjin was getting turned on by her own words. All those things she had fantasised about came right back to her mind and left her uncontrollably pulsating from the inside.

She sat back on her heels, hand running over the ginger's stomach and between her breasts until she reached her slim neck. Yunjin moaned louder at how perfectly they wrapped around her throat, slowly stopping the air that was flowing to her head. Her hands quickly grasped at Y/n’s wrist, unable to stop the grinding of her hips, the squelching sounds filled the room, and her moans grew strained as there was only a small amount of oxygen getting to her.

“Y/n…” She strained out, nails digging into the wrist as her eyes rolled back. The sounds muffled.

“Open your mouth wide if you want to take a breath, needy slut.” Y/n ordered and the girl gasped as she opened her mouth. The band member leaned over, fingers speeding up in her cunt and making Yunjin plant her feet down and raise her knees to press more into her. Despite barely being able to see, all the pleasure, it was overwhelmingly good while also barely being able to comprehend what was going on. Y/n fucking her like a toy with her fingers, choking her, ordering her, and spitting in her mouth while her pussy was letting out sopping sounds just how she had wanted it to look.

Her tongue stuck out, and the spit landed right on it, warm and spreading over it. The hand on her throat let go and she barely managed to take a breath when Y/n used her hand to force her mouth closed. “Fucking swallow before you try anything else.” And she did just that, swallowing the spit that had lingered on her tongue, it felt like a reward to have Y/n spit in her mouth.

“Good, live your dream.” Y/n teased and ran her thumb over Yunjin’s wet lips, and tugged down on her plump bottom lip. She gestured with her head to the girl who was barely present as she was moaning and squirming under her, but she got the memo. Yunjin sucked the thumb into her mouth as Y/n pushed until she reached her knuckle, it was close to making her gag and Y/n started to pull out. Her cheeks hollowed and let go with a pop before another whimper left her.

“Please, make me come, I want it so much, please.” She begged and Y/n pulled her fingers out of her sopping hole that had a warm and snug grip on her. Yunjin wanted to whine and complain but stopped when Y/n moved down and got on her stomach.

She did not wait as she had come face to face with the pink and wet pussy. The girl held her legs spread wide, pulling them even further apart and inviting Y/n to start eating her out. Her raised to watch when she would do it, wanting to see her pussy get eaten. To see the look on Y/n’s face of how big of a mess she made her because she had been thinking about this.

Her tongue came out, flat and dragging up her slit, parting the swollen lips of the girl’s puffy pussy. It made her hum at the taste and she went right back down to tease her hole and gather more of the juices onto her tongue.

Her head dropped at the feeling. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Yunjin’s hand flew to Y/n’s hair, eagerly pushing her head into her pussy. The piercing dragged along her slit, adding a new sensation of the barbell that circled her clit and made her hips raise. Y/n wrapped her slim arm around the girl’s thigh, gripping the flesh between her fingers, kneading it while drowning in Yunjin’s sopping pussy.

Those plump lips wrapped around her swollen clit, tugging on it before she suckled. It made Yunjin whimper, her legs quivering around Y/n’s head and she moved her leg over her shoulder, her heel digging into Y/n’s spine as her hips humped at her face. The tongue firmly flicked, pressing the piercing against it before going right back to flicking in a way that was making Yunjin writhe into the sheets. Her moans grew gradually louder, sounding more needy and strained with every hard flick against her swollen slick bud. The pink nerves were sensitive and slowly brought her to the edge because of the muscle that was toying with it.

“Oh God, so good, your tongue is so fucking good.” She whined out a moan.

The lead guitarist nuzzled her face into the girl's cunt, her fingers coming right back to the clasping hole that she pushed into. Y/n pressed them right on her g-spot, applying just the right amount of pressure to make the girl under her spasm. Yunjin was losing her mind over how well Y/n was working on her pussy. The tension was quickly growing in her stomach, pushing it all down and she was right on the edge again. Her breathing grew quicker and deeper, each moan more breathy if not breathless at times.

Y/n grazed her teeth over it and put her tongue flat against it, letting Yunjin fuck herself against her, the piercing moving over the clit. Her hair was being tugged on, the heel digging deeper into her spine from how the girl was pushing her sticky cunt into her face. She sucked the clit back in between her lips, tongue stiff and working hard against the bud, doing quick flicks that Yunjin could feel spread through her whole body as each nerve was being sparked with light.

“I’m gonna come!” She cried out, body tensing up, her back arched off the bed and her vision washed over with black as she lost control over her voice.

Y/n looked up at the girl from between her legs, lips tugging at how loud the girl was who clasped around her fingers, holding them in a chokehold while her walls thudded just like her clit. Her voice strained and her thighs were shaking, making Y/n slap the flesh and grasp at it. It only fueled Yunjin’s orgasm who was fucking Y/n’s mouth herself at this point with the way her hips were stuttering into her mouth. It landed her Y/n’s palm against her thigh once again, much harsher and the pain stung right through it and to her overstimulated bundle of nerves.

Slowly her moans died down and all that was left was the sounds of her trying to catch her breath. Her eyes closed and her hands covered her face at how lost she felt. Her body slowly relaxed into the bed, trying to figure out how she ended up here to begin with all while Y/n was still between her legs. It was making it hard to focus on anything else besides the tongue.

She pulled her lips away from the sensitive bud that was making the girl’s legs spasm every time she touched it. Her fingers slowly pulled out and she leaned down, licking everything up, cleaning the mess she made. It was bringing back the soft whimpers and gasps as her tongue worked at the pussy with kittenish licks.

“Fuck.” She exclaimed when Y/n slapped her thigh once again with a grumble and she shakily removed her leg that had been wrapped securely around her. Her eyes followed Y/n who sat up, her chin and nose glistening with her wetness and all Yunjin’s shame was gone as the sight made her thighs clench again.

The ginger was about to sit up only to get shoved back down. Y/n gave her that pompous smile as her hands reached behind her back. “Time to pay back for making your perverted fantasies come true. Or is eating me out one of them too?” Her breath hitched when the lacy bra unclasped and Y/n let it fall down her shoulder before throwing it to the side. The vixen revealed her small and perky breasts to Yunjin, her nipples hard and Yunjin was slowly going into overdrive. Her pussy was still going through aftershocks yet her clit was throbbing at the view of Y/n naked and her words.

“Please, ride my face.” Y/n let out a breathless chuckle at the request, running a hand through her dark hair. The naked girl on her bed had lost all shame, begging for her fantasies to come true.

“Have you imagined me riding your face, using your mouth to get off?”

“Fuck, yes I have and I just want to taste you, Y/n.” The girl had already imagined what the guitarist would taste like on her tongue while grinding down on her face. She just wanted Y/n right on top of her, using her like the needy whore that she was for being used after imaging it. To just be her fuck toy, to pleasure her and get her pussy fucked until it was raw.

Her eyes were eager on Y/n who got off of the bed.

“You can taste me.” She worked her belt, unbuckling it before she unbuttoned the low-waisted jeans.

Yunjin pushed herself further up the bed, eyeing Y/n who removed her bottoms and underwear. Never did she think she would get to see Y/n naked, or even get fucked by her. The vixen did not look like the kind to bring someone like Yunjin to bed, but maybe that was her thing. Coming off as completely riveting to people who were opposites to her.

“You’re going to eat me out like a good little pussy eater because you want me so bad.” Y/n’s voice was humid as she spoke while getting on the bed. Her eyes set on Yunjin who felt like prey and she wanted nothing more than to be one. The vixen’s slim body was like a cat the way she crawled over to her.

“I want to taste you, be good and eat you whenever you want me to.” She licked her lips, and her eyes fell onto Y/n’s heat when the girl straddled her chest and Yunjin grabbed hold of her protruding hips. She looked like she would start shaking if Y/n wouldn’t let her get a taste. Her fingers ran over the tattoos that went along her skin, tracing the stars but her eyes were stuck to the pink pussy that was waiting for her mouth. It made her one hand run down between them, trailing her skin.

“That’s what perverts like you want, you dream about having sex with me all day and get off on these thoughts. Not many have the chance to live through it.” Y/n tangled a hand in the orange hair, threading her fingers through it and Yunjin looked up at her to meet her eyes. It made her thighs clench to see Y/n looking down at her. “Do it well and I will let you eat me out again, might even fuck you more times than just today.” That was more than motivation for Yunjin who used her arm to pull Y/n right over to her mouth.

A light moan fell from Y/n’s lips and Yunjin moaned right after when she ran her tongue over the slit. Her hand was busy between her legs, playing with her clit to the sounds Y/n was making, to her taste, and to having her ride on top of her. It was all turning her on so much more than she already was as she had only been able to imagine what Y/n would sound like in bed.

Y/n gripped the headboard of the bed, moving her hips into Yunjin’s face who was eating her out like her life depended on it. The moans slipped out of her mouth at how good it felt to have the girl’s slick tongue slide between her folds, teasing her clenching hole and her nose stimulating her clit. All she had to do was slightly move her hips while the girl greedily did the rest, slurping at her like she was starved.

Yunjin moved her hand down from Y/n’s hip and to her plump ass, kneading her cheek in her hand. Her mouth lapped at her pussy, taking in everything she could get while her nose continuously rubbed at the clit. The girl had her eyes on Y/n though who had her head thrown back while arching, unable to look away while she worked with her mouth on her cunt. She continued to fuck herself while doing so, her hips bucking into her fingers as she was sensitive. It was like watching an erotic scene in Yunjin’s eyes who was fucking herself and Y/n as she was unable to not fuck herself at the sight.

“You’re doing so good, fuck you’re a good fucking whore, aren’t you?” Yunjin moaned in response, pressing her nose harder against Y/n’s clit who continued to fuck her face. Her nails digging in the firm flesh of her ass, tongue probing at her hole. The sounds filled the whole room, Yunjin’s tongue lapping at the wet cunt, Y/n moaning and whimpering with each move of her hips that were perfectly grinding against Yunjin’s face. The younger girl was taking it all, letting it smear over her mouth and chin, wanting to be covered in Y/n’s mess.

“I want you to come on my face,” she mumbled as she momentarily pulled away. Her voice quivered as she could feel herself about to orgasm once again.

“It’s all for you, fucking cumdump. All you’re good for is being a freak that eats pussy.” Yunjin cried out at the words that shot right to her poor clit that she had gotten abused by Y/n and couldn’t help but abuse herself too. She was too needy.

“Call me a perverted freak, Y/n.” She begged, her eyes closed this time.

“You’re nothing but a perverted freak–Oh God, but you eat pussy so well.” Those backhanded compliments sent Yunjin to her edge.

Y/n’s thighs trembled, her nails digging into the girl’s scalp as she let out a long and light moan as her back arched and her hips stuttered into Yunjin’s face. Her orgasm washed over her while Yunjin was going through her own, her thighs clasped around her hand while Y/n’s were squeezing her head. The pulling on her hair only added to all the pleasure.

She only stopped toying with her clit when Y/n came down from her peak, slowly stopping the movement of her hips. However, she held the girl in place by holding onto her orange hair.

“Fuck, clean my mess for me too,” Y/n said and bit her lower lip as she looked down at Yunjin who worked her tongue, her jaw slowly going sore as she did her best to clean up every little trace of the slick left. The vixen looked over her shoulder, catching the hand that snuck out from between Yunjin’s trembling thighs.

“Did you fuck yourself?”

She hummed and Y/n lifted her hips, looking at Yunjin whose nose, chin, and plump lips were glistening with her slickness. It was photo-worthy as the girl looked like she had been fucked for hours multiple times from how satisfied she was with what she got. It was as if the smallest drop of water would satisfy her thirst and Y/n realised how big of a freak the girl was. It was hot, to say the least.

The guitarist moved off of her and got off the bed while Yunjin was gathering herself.

Had she just fucked her mean, but hot neighbour?

Yes.

Did she regret it?

No.

She would gladly go through this again because it was much better than she had imagined.

Her pussy was still throbbing and her perverted fantasies about her mean neighbour had come true. Whatever judgement she thought she would get, Y/n didn’t give, but instead gave in to Yunjin’s desires for her.

Her eyes scanned the room one last time, the blinds were down, it was dimly lit and more on the messy side, but not dirty as it smelled of sex and vanilla now. She at last looked at the ceiling after being so lost in the pleasure her eyes squinting as her specs were discarded.

Only now seeing the graffiti on the girl’s ceiling right above the bed in black which read;

“A.D.I.D.A.S?” She confusedly questioned as it seemed random.

Y/n rolled her eyes while rummaging through her wardrobe. “You’re so lame.”

“What?” Yunjin still had no clue what it meant, however she knew that Y/n found her lame. At least she found her hot and fucked her so it didn’t matter. The more lame Y/n found her, the more Yunjin got off. The ginger quickly got up from the bed after getting back the feeling in her jelly legs. Quickly trying to gather her clothes and put them on all while looking at Y/n who was picking out clothes from her wardrobe, some falling out and landing on the floor in a pile.

“Nothing, I have to get ready for the concert tonight. You could come, bring a friend.” Y/n threw the invite out there while grabbing a towel and covering herself with it as she had to shower before. She at last turned to look at Yunjin who had just pulled her shirt over her head, fumbling with her bottoms.

“None of my friends listen to your band's type of music.” The girl mumbled. However, Y/n’s tongue did make her rethink and want to try and listen to the music.

“Those are my underwear and are you sure?” Y/n pointed out with that almost malicious grin as she bit her lower lip. Her siren-like eyes set on Yunjin who held the black lace in her hand while pulling on her sweats.

“Sorry–” She blushed and was about to put them back as it was genuinely by accident as they had somehow tangled themselves up with her clothes, but she was stopped.

“You can keep them.” Y/n shrugged out, wanting to see if the girl would do it or not. It was hot to see someone be this down for her as it had happened before, but Yunjin was down bad bad.

Yunjin was hesitant as she looked at the lacy pair of used underwear in her hold. It would stay between them in the end. “I’m sure.” She replied, quickly stuffing them in her pocket and reaching for the specs that she put back on. It wouldn’t hurt to maybe get off with them in her hold if Y/n got to find out about her fantasies either way. She cleared her throat, her cheeks burning at the way Y/n was looking at her and she wasn’t sure when she became so thrown off the rails. The vixen stood leaning against the wardrobe, phone in hand.

“So…you’re not friends with Chaewon?” She curiously asked as she had seen the two girls together multiple times, but it looked like they maybe didn’t tell each other everything when Yunjin creased her eyebrows in confusion.

“Chaewon? How do you know Chaewon?”

“You can see yourself out, carrot top,” Y/n replied instead while walking towards the bedroom door to get to the bathroom. She did look back at the girl who seemed baffled, giving her a sly grin and wink before the speakers started to blast more metal and Yunjin was left to see herself out.

#yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #yunjin smut #le sserafim smut #huh yunjin smut #lsfm smut #kpop gg smut #girl group smut #smut #fanfic #jennifer huh smut #yunjin x fem reader

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eddiesghxst · 7 months

Text

PRICE OF FAME (PART 7/12)

AHHH HERE SHE IS, i hope you enjoyyy hehe <3

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you and eddie are back to square one...maybe

contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, some jealous!eddie, brotherhood, mentions of eddie's dad being shitty, mentions of a sick family member (reader's grandfather), flirting, and eddie being a sorry mf <3

word count: 4.2k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie very rarely finds the time to go to the studio by himself.

With the busy lifestyle he’s now adopted, he mostly gets his writing done on the road or when he can’t sleep. And Eddie can’t sleep tonight. He doesn’t want to sleep tonight. He can’t seem to find it in himself to give his body and mind the few hours of rest they plead for because Eddie— Eddie fucked up.

The studio is quiet— because nobody in their right mind comes to a recording studio at three in the morning— and Eddie begins to wonder why he even came here if he can’t write a single lyric. Every line that crosses his mind is too little, too much, too mundane— it’s all wrong. Everything is wrong, and Eddie wants to scream.

Eddie takes another hit of the burning cigarette, rubs his eyes in exhaustion, and places his used journal to the side in exchange for his guitar.

He sits on the couch, the quiet room filling out the whirlwind of unsaid words in Eddie’s mind. He strums a soft tune on the wooden instrument, eyes closed and legs propped up on the coffee table. It takes Eddie a few moments to open his eyes when he hears the door open, and he has to blink a few times to clear the fog of fatigue from his eyes.

And Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes and scoff at the sight of Gareth.

He keeps the cigarette between his lips and goes back to plucking his guitar strings, ignoring the shuffling sound of Gareth walking over.

Gareth is quiet for a long time until he clears his throat, “This is good.”

Eddie opens his eyes again and glances over at the brown-haired boy. Eddie’s face pinches in confusion before Gareth raises the journal, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s not.”

Gareth shakes his head, “No, it really is. I like this line,” he points to Eddie’s messy handwriting.

“It’s not going anywhere. I’ve been here for almost two hours.” Eddie brushes it off.

Eddie resumes his peaceful strumming, and Gareth— Gareth just can’t let it go. Because he misses his best friend more than anything in the fucking world, and it hurts. This hurts. The quiet and the unsaid— it hurts.

“I’m sorry.”

And Eddie thinks, fuck, not now.

“Man—” “No, Eddie I… I fucked up.” And Eddie glances at Gareth because Gareth sounds… Gareth sounds like he’s on the verge of something, something that Eddie has rarely seen from his friend.

“I really fucked up, man. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want you thinking I don’t regret it— because I do.” Gareth looks at Eddie. Clear eyes, so wide and full of what Eddie can only imagine to be sorrow. “I should’ve never done that to you, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have told her— especially because I hadn’t told you.”

And Eddie is so tired of being angry. He’s so tired of feeling the gaping and missing piece of his best friend— and sure, he wishes Gareth never went behind his back and fucked his ex, but he mostly just wishes things would return to normal.

Eddie is silent for a moment, and Gareth almost takes it as an answer, but Eddie finally says, “Did you really love her?”

If Gareth is shocked, he does an excellent job of not showing it. He only swallows and shifts in his seat, “I thought I did… I don’t know, maybe?”

He’s being careful, Eddie knows, and he can’t blame him for it.

“Do you still talk?” Eddie can’t help but ask because he needs to know. He needs to know so he can prepare himself for whatever bullshit he’ll go through later if he ever sees Chrissy again.

To Eddie’s relief, Gareth shakes his head, “No. Not since… no.”

Eddie nods and says nothing else while mindlessly playing his soft tune.

Gareth shifts beside him, glances down at the journal in his hands, and hums, “So… you gonna tell me who this is about?”

Eddie jokingly glares at Gareth and leans forward to set his guitar down. “S’nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at his friend, and Gareth takes a deep breath. “Look, man,” he places the journal down, “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Jeff said he saw you—” “That motherfucker.” Gareth softly laughs but shrugs either way.

Eddie drags a hand over his face and sighs, “I don’t know, it’s… complicated.”

Gareth hums, like he doesn’t believe Eddie, “All I’m saying is if you like her as much as I think you do,” he gestures to the journal, “Then you better act quick.”

And Eddie knows Gareth is right— which is annoying, but he thinks he needs to hear it now more than ever.

Eddie’s not sure when he closed his eyes and dozed off, but by the time he opened them, it was the next day, and Jeff was standing over him with a sly grin. Eddie’s face is twisted in morning confusion and annoyance at Jeff’s proximity, and something heavy is leaning on his side and— “I see you and Gare-bear have made up.” Jeff tips his head to the right of Eddie, and Eddie glances over to where he’s motioned to find Gareth fast asleep with his body leaned against Eddie’s side.

Eddie groans and grimaces as he turns his head, a painful pinch resting at the top of his spine as he shoves his hand against Gareth’s shoulder, voice dry and scratchy from sleep as he speaks, “Shut the fuck up.”

Eddie’s arm tingles under the weight of Gareth, and he grunts, pushing harder at his shoulder, “Gareth, get off me, man; I can’t feel my fucking arm,” Eddie grumbles, shoving the boy off of him, grimacing when Gareth grunts in protest.

Jeff snickers and looks around the room; sheets of paper are scattered across the coffee table, empty beer bottles are strewn on the floor, and a guitar with a busted string lies on the other couch. “Jesus, did I miss the party?” Jeff teases, kicking at an empty beer can as he walks over to the sheet of music on the soundboard, picking it up and glancing over the words.

“What’s this?” Jeff wonders aloud. Gareth opens an eye to see what Jeff is talking about and shifts in his seat as he answers, “Eddie’s apology to the journalist.”

Eddie wipes drool from his mouth as he sits up, leaning over to sift through the rubble for his pack of cigarettes, “Birdie.” He mumbles as he shoves a stick between his lips and lights the end. “Yeah, Birdie.” Gareth sleepily mumbles.

Jeff laughs as he reads over the half-assed written letter. “How drunk were you two shitheads?” He wonders, eyebrows raising at one particular sentence. “And what’d you do that made you finally realize you’re an asshole?”

And Eddie thinks Jeff is asking a lot of questions right now, and Eddie doesn’t have the mental capacity to digest any of them. Gareth snickers beside Eddie, shaking his head with a shrug, moving through Eddie’s cloud of smoke to reach for a beer can, shaking it to see if there’s any drink left before sipping on whatever's there before speaking, “What didn’t he do?” He jokes.

Eddie kicks his heel into the brown-haired boy’s shin, ignoring the spew of curses Gareth sends his way. Jeff tosses the paper back onto the soundboard and turns to the two boys, “Does this have anything to do with her trying to drop the article?”

Gareth shrugs, uninterested in whatever Jeff is insinuating, but the question seems to wake Eddie up quicker than the slow-burning stick between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

Jeff looks at Eddie as if he’s asked him what two plus two is, “You don’t know?”

Eddie tilts his head, a confused look on his face, irritation lingering on his tone, “Know what, Jeff?”

Jeff’s eyebrows raise, and he lifts his hands in surrender, “Look, Naomi and Birdie were talking at breakfast, and she told Naomi that she’s thinking of dropping the article.” “What do you mean dropping the article, Jeff?”

Jeff gazes at Eddie like he’s lost his mind, “Honestly, man, I don’t know why you’re freaking out when this is literally what you wanted ever since she came along.” He points out, calmly sitting in the desk chair by the soundboard. “I mean, yeah,” Eddie stresses, “But that was before— fuck,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face as he plops back into the plush couch with a heavy sigh. “Before?” Jeff wonders aloud.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie snaps.

Gareth snickers again, glancing at Eddie’s depleted state before glaring at Jeff, “Before Eddie fell in love.” He childishly giggles. Eddie glares at his friend, finally finding his shoes and hastily shoving them on, “I’m not in love with her, you fucking idiot,” He swats at Gareth, “I just…” Eddie glances between his two friends before sighing, rubbing his hands over his face again and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Didn’t seem that complicated when I walked in on you two.” Jeff points out, to which Gareth’s jaw drops as he turns to Eddie, “No fucking way. You boned the journalist?—” “Birdie.” “—And Jeff walked in on it? You didn’t tell me that last night!” He exclaims.

Eddie grimaces at Gareth’s words and the fact that he won’t just say your name because, for some weird and obnoxious reason, it pisses Eddie off. “Because it wasn’t like that.” Eddie shakes his head. Jeff makes a face, and Eddie rolls his eyes, “It wasn’t,” Eddie repeats, “Not that it’s any of you fucking losers' business.”

Eddie tries so hard not to seem distracted when they start working on their last song of the album. He tries to put his entire mind, body, and soul into the words and the chorus, but he can’t. Eddie’s mind is somewhere else, wasting away trying to find a way to say sorry and get you to change your mind about abandoning your project because, sure, Eddie’s an asshole when he wants to be, but he has some inkling of remorse and human feelings. He has the ability to feel sorry and know when he’s crossed a line, and clearly, Eddie is far beyond the line.

Eddie’s stomach churns when he thinks about the last night: the look on your face and the tone of your voice, the unmistakable sniffle as you wiped away a stray tear. And Eddie really is a jackass, isn’t he?

Making a kind girl like you cry, telling her she’s ruined everything when all she’s done is stay true to her task. It’s Eddie who’s led you astray, who’s tempted you and poked and prodded until you cracked— and, god, Eddie feels sick to his stomach.

Eddie remembers how that feels. To be pushed and shoved to your breaking point, to where someone breaks you down to the point of giving up. Eddie knows that feeling so well; he dealt with it for so long as a kid before Wayne took him in. Eddie remembers how useless he would feel, how his father would tell him he was stupid and naive for thinking he could be something. And it’s difficult to ignore those harsh words when it’s repeated over and over in your ear, and Eddie can’t believe he let himself do that to you.

Eddie’s kind of frantic when he walks up to you at rehearsals.

He’s fidgety, and he’s aching for a cigarette, and his heart is racing in his chest because Eddie’s not the best at apologies, but he’s also not very fond of the idea of you not being here anymore. As much as Eddie hates to admit it, he likes you being here— because watching you, hearing you, and seeing how you move about a room is addicting. It’s a movie, a show that gets better with every episode, and Eddie has tried so hard to lie and say he can’t stand the show, but fuck, he’s hooked.

You look tired today, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved, making Eddie all the more nervous to break the slight trance you seem to be in. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him when he approaches you in the backstage hallway, “Can we uh— can we talk?”

You don’t seem eager when he asks, and you don’t sound it either when your eyebrows furrow in distress, and you shake your head, “Honestly, Eddie, I’m not in the mood—” Eddie shakes his head, tone sincere and eyes holding no trace of mischief, “No, I promise it’s not…” Eddie trails off, and you raise your eyebrow, growing impatient with his hesitance.

“It’s about the magazine.” He rushes out. You look confused and unconvinced— and there’s so much going on in the background; staff calling out demands, crew members scrambling to get things done, and Eddie just can’t fucking think. “Well, it’s about you, but it’s also about the magazine— can we step outside?”

Eddie looks away in embarrassment because Eddie doesn’t get flustered very easily these days— there’s not much to get flustered over when you’ve seen it all— but again, Eddie doesn’t do this often— and his neck is heating up, and he knows his cheeks are turning an embarrassing shade of red because you’re looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot known to man.

Eddie drags in a steady breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and he grumbles lowly enough for you to hear, thumb brushing the tip of his nose once before speaking, “Come on, don’t make me beg.”

You scoff at that, arms crossing over your chest as you push past him and storm towards the exit, and Eddie follows with a shaky breath.

When Eddie steps out into the alleyway of the venue, you’re leaning against the wall with a deep frown etched across your lips, and Eddie’s fingers twitch for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. You glare at him, “What’s wrong with you?” You snap. Eddie looks at you silently for a moment, confusion written across his face as he speaks, “Huh?”

You glare as you speak, “You’re being weird.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and clears his throat, shifting on his feet before he starts, “Listen, I uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I know we don’t get along and shit but just…” Eddie ignores it when you roll your eyes, “Don’t drop the magazine because of me.”

You’re silent then, for much longer than Eddie would like you to be, and Eddie is thoroughly confused when you scoff, “Excuse me?”

Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances around the empty alleyway, “Look— believe it or not, we actually kind of need this, and the boys will fucking kill me if I screw it all up, so just… I’m sorry, okay?”

And technically, it’s the truth. It might not be the whole truth as to why Eddie has pulled you aside, but at least there’s some truth to it… right?

You don’t seem too appeased with Eddie’s half-assed apology, considering the way your face doesn't even flinch for what seems like decades. “Well, for starters, I’m not dropping out of the magazine,” and Eddie doesn’t want to unpack the reasoning behind why the tension in his shoulders eased, “And the only reason why I had even debated doing so is because my grandfather is sick, not because some douchebag artist pissed me off.” You snap.

Eddie feels like an ass.

No, he feels worse than an ass, whatever that may be. Eddie feels like he’ll maybe just go back to the hotel and sew his mouth shut because the one time that Eddie tries to fix things, his tongue flaps and spews out bullshit, and then he’s further in the ground than he was, to begin with.

Eddie’s not sure what to do or say because, honestly, he didn’t even think of the possibility that he’s not the reason for you dropping the magazine, and Eddie only then realizes how selfish of a mistake this was. “Can I be honest with you, Eddie?”

Even though you sound and look like you could stab him right now, Eddie thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes are so alive beneath the light of day, and a gentle breeze carries your scent to wrap around Eddie in a dizzying manner. His heart races, and Eddie feels… small.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, like he’s damaged things to the point of no return, and it’s all his fault— and usually, it never actually was Eddie’s fault, but this… Eddie can wholeheartedly admit he’s at fault for the agitated look you’re giving him— and Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

Still, Eddie nods— because what else can he do?

“I think we should keep the one-on-ones to a minimum. Better yet, let’s just stop it as a whole.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, gaze dancing away, seemingly anxious to flee the scene as you speak, “I don’t think this is benefiting either of us— this back and forth. I have work to get done, and honestly, there’s nothing more that I need from you aside from when I interview the band as a group— and seeing as you hate me and I hate you, why don’t we just make our lives easier and stay out of each other's way?”

This isn’t how Eddie imagined things going.

Eddie imagined he would say sorry, and you would give him a pretty smile, and things would go back to… well, not normal, but perhaps something a little better than normal. This is worse than normal. This is so left field of what Eddie had imagined, and Eddie can’t bring himself to say anything.

So, instead, Eddie nods, mumbles a quick agreement, and says nothing more as you leave.

Days pass slower than usual, and you find ways to get busy outside of drafting the magazine. You take frequent walks in Central Park to clear your mind and spend many nights talking to your family over the phone.

Your grandfather is old, and it’s no surprise to the family that he’ll soon see the end of his days, but your mom immediately told you no when you said you would be coming home after getting word of his current state. You weren’t particularly close to your grandfather; you really only saw him once a year around holidays, but you felt the need to be there for your mother, to offer her a shoulder to cry on. However, your mother, ever the sweet lady she is, insisted she would be more than okay with the support of your father and younger sister and demanded that you stay in New York to finish your project.

Still, even though you called home every night, you felt the distance with each goodbye. It ached to be so far from your family at such a time, but the world won’t stop just for you, and time is of the essence in your line of work.

Despite the somewhat gloomy past days you’ve had, each show has given you a moment to breathe and take your mind off the stresses of life. There are two shows of the residency left now, and the boys of Corroded Coffin seem more pumped than ever for the two big nights.

You usually spend time before the show loitering in the green room or waiting out in the crowd, but today, you’ve chosen to have front-row tickets to the chaos that is Corroded Coffin’s dressing room.

There’s a thick fog of smoke dancing through the room; tobacco, weed, and alcohol drenching the walls with their smell as the boys and crew members share drinks and blunts and jokes. You, Jeff, Gareth, and James are gathered in front of the vanity— away from most of the chaos to enjoy light conversation— with Jeff and James sitting in the tall vanity chairs while you and Gareth stand between them both.

“I think we should play something off the new record tonight,” Jeff suggests. Gareth, who’s busy messing with his hair in the mirror, finds the time to respond, “I kind of wanted to do something old. Maybe even a cover?”

James raises an eyebrow, reaching forward onto the vanity desk for a black eyeliner pencil, “You guys are on in like fifteen, man. The stage crew is not gonna be happy about that.” James points out, inspecting the small item before popping the cap off. Gareth snickers as James attempts to apply the eyeliner, “When are they ever happy? Poor guys have to put up with our bullshit every day.”

Naomi comes to stand behind Jeff, draping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin atop his head. Jeff smirks at her through the mirror, and she smiles, “You agree, right? We should play something new tonight?” Jeff asks his girlfriend, to which she shrugs and glances at both band members, “I don’t see why not. It’s the second to last show, and I’m sure the fans would love it.”

You look over to James as he curses to himself when the pencil tip breaks off. You snicker, not thinking twice, when you step forward to place a hand on his shoulder, “You’re pressing too hard.” You mumble as you gently grab the pencil from him. James watches as you turn to grab the pencil sharpener, shaving off the empty end of the stick until you can see the soft pencil again, “Aw, you’re gonna help me out?” He presses a hand to his chest as you roll your eyes. Whatever conversation Jeff, Gareth, and Naomi are having, you pay no mind to it anymore. “Shut up, take a seat.” You nod to the vanity chair.

James takes a seat, and you shake your head as you step forward, tipping his head back for a good angle as you say, “Remind me again how you’re an artist and still don’t know how to apply eyeliner correctly?” You mumble as you begin softly applying the makeup to his bottom lashline. James smirks, “I can’t be good at everything.” He jokes. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Just look up at the ceiling, please.”

And in the corner of your eye, you catch him— Eddie.

He’s watching you and James with the sharpest gaze you’ve ever seen— angry and daring, and it only falters when you turn to look at him. You don’t know why, but your heart seems to rise to your throat, and there is an annoying twist in your stomach when you see how his jaw ticks in anger. You don’t notice it until Eddie’s gaze flickers down, and you suddenly feel the warm heat of James' hand pressed against your waist.

Your body heats at the attention, and you shy away from Eddie’s accusing gaze, returning to your task. Your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as you apply the makeup, and you try desperately hard to ignore the way James is gazing up at you or the gentle squeezes he gives you when you shift. What’s even harder to ignore is the hole Eddie is burning through your head— and god, why do you feel like this?

Why do you, for some odd reason, wish it was Eddie beneath you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s hands touching you? Why do you wish Eddie’s brown eyes were gazing at you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s warm skin beneath your fingertips?

Your body and heart want Eddie for selfish reasons, but deep down, you and Eddie both know it’s best not to venture down the short path you’d started. But that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it. That doesn’t mean you don’t think about what it would be like to have Eddie in all the sinful ways you’d both tasted.

You don’t hear James the first time, but your attention snaps back to him when he gently squeezes your hip, “Huh?” You blink.

James chuckles as you pause your task and gaze down at him. His gaze dances all around your face for a moment, pearly white teeth digging into his smile before he speaks again, “What are you doing tonight after the show?”

And god, why the fuck is James looking at you like that?

You shrug, “Um, I— I don’t know why?” You ask, finishing the last few touches on his makeup. James shrugs, watching as you stand up straight and put the cap back onto the pencil, “I was thinking maybe I can take you out? Like a date?”

You almost choke at that. Your eyes are wide as you blink at James, heart racing and mind a whirlwind of thoughts— and Eddie is still watching you.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Richie bursts through the door with a grin and an exclamation of two words.

Show time.

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part eight

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a/n: ANNNDDD HERE WE ARE, if you've made it to the end and see this, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate any for of feedback, i love to here ur funny, sweet, and smutty thots <3 ALSO A BIG THANK YOU TO @siennamagee FOR THE IDEA OF THE SCENE WITH JAMES, ILY STINK <3 LET THE GROVELING BEGIN !!

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner

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sinnerlillith · 2 years

Text

teenage dirtbag

Summary: “I got 2 tickets to Iron Maiden baby, come with me Friday, don’t say maybe.”~ you and your boyfriend finish your record store date late at night. The van doors are open, Iron Maiden is playing, and the empty schools parking lot is in view. and thank goodness it’s empty [10k words]

Includes: van sex, pervy eddie, masochist eddie, power sub eddie, (he’s in a submissive position, but he’s in charge sometimes. so semi-switch eddie too) eddie has scars from ST4, reader smokes a cig, finger sucking (reader), briefly choking eddie, praise kink, some nipple play, some dirty talk, safe sex, slight exhibitionism, eddie being a dorky metal head

The proof that summer is ending in Hawkins shows in the cool night air. Tonight really is cooler than most nights, which is why Eddie made sure to bring an extra blanket for the van. You’re both sitting across from each other with the 2 large back doors swung wide open, letting in the crisp air and exposing the starry night sky with the yellow glow of street lamps.

Your legs are straight, and slightly parted on top of his, one ankle on each side of his hips. His lean and black ripped jean covered legs are also parted, letting you sit between them as his back rests against the inside wall of the van. His scuffed white rebook shoes occasionally tap your sides as he rolls his ankles open and closed, side to side. He really can’t keep his whole body still at all.

The blanket stretches across both pairs of legs, while a picnic blanket is laid out underneath you both. The van smells of cigarettes and weed, and the sounds of metal guitar solos from Eddies portable radio, on his left side, fill the occasional short silence. You two have a lit up cigarette in-between your pointer and middle fingers, chipped with black nail polish.

And if you didn’t think Eddie could get any hotter while smoking something, you were very wrong. He’s even hotter when he can have a cig in his hand, paired with a well done outfit, his glittering accessories, and dark messy hair falling down his broad shoulders.

He’s wearing a white diy cut tank top made from and old Megadeath graphic tee, underneath his leather jacket and battle vest. The neckline is cut so low that you can see all his chest tattoos clearly, and the deep line between his pectorals that his pick necklace dangles over. Every time he inhales the smoke from his cig, his chest expands into the cloth of his shirt, pressing up against it, making it look 10 times tighter than it really is.

Makes you want to drag your tongue over his chest, but instead, you just take a drag of your cig and exhale the smoke out your lips. You hear Eddie take out the new Iron Maiden cassette he just bought and flip it to the other side, closing the tape holder to his portable radio with a click.

A new tune fills the smoky night air of the van, and you listen to it closely.

“Alright, so which song is this one?” Eddie questions you, brown eyes watching your thinking face. He’s been quizzing you like some sort of gameshow host, asking you to name each song being played.

You sit and ponder, noticing the familiar lyrics and instrumental. Your face changes from thinking, to noticing, to realizing.

“Number something, uh... the beast? No- number of the... The Number of the Beast!” you finally say enthusiastically, eyes looking up to meet his with a big, confident smile on your face.

Eddie claps multiple times, flattening his lips into an excited smile and scrunching his eyebrows together. He’s careful not to drop his cigarette as he celebrates your mini victory.

Cute.

“Yes- yes! Finally! You got it,” he says excitedly, but also exhaustedly because you finally guessed right after being wrong about some other songs. “took you long enough.”

You roll your eyes at him, “It’s not my fault you’re playing songs I’m not familiar with!”

He chuckles at your argument, shaking his head a few times, hair swaying side to side with each shake. “Yeah, whatever.” He brings his cigarette up to his pink lips, circling his flattened mouth around the butt taking another drag with a smile.

He talks with smoke coming out of his mouth, “Just wait, the guitar solo is gonna come up, it’s-” he mimics the noise of an explosion, both ring adorned hands coming to the side of his curly head, gesturing his mind blowing up. His chain bracelet falls down his wrist as he brings it up next to his face, and the smoke from his cig clouds around him.

You sit and wait. About 2 minutes later, the familiar guitar solo comes up and he’s right, it’s as intense as you remember. It only got better and better.

“Damn.” you mutter appreciatively, barely audible over the music.

Eddie turns the volume up, music sounding even louder now, and he starts doing a cute air guitar solo with the cig dangling from his lips. His head bangs and shakes around, making that long hair of his move wildly and the smoke from his cig leaks all around him, and fuck does he look hot.

A little dorky, but very hot.

His chain bracelet dangles and glimmers with every flick of his wrist on his air guitar strings. His chipped, black, painted nails, finger the pretend neck of the guitar, dancing along the air frets.

You laugh at him, but then realize its a little too loud, and its late at night. You don’t want to draw any attention to you guys this late. The wrong person could see you both, and then the police would soon show up.

You motion for him to turn it down, and he shakes his head, taking his cig out and mouthing the word “Nope!” to you, with a dimple showing grin. He returns to his solo, shaking his hair around with his cig now in his ‘strumming’ hand.

“Stop- you dork!” you shout and giggle, failing to be serious because he’s too cute.

“Make me, sweetheart!” he yells over the music, lifting his pretty head up to you before turning away to finish his solo.

You snuff out your cig and pull your legs off him, moving the blanket off you both. You crawl up on your hands and knees, getting to the side of him that the radio is on, bending to the right and turning the volume of his radio down. You can still hear the music, it just plays much quieter.

“Aww babe, c’mon-” he fake whines, turning his head to you and ceasing his strumming. His hands drop, falling to rest on the curve of your knees. You ignore his whine, smiling as you move your legs to the sides of his hips, spreading your thighs to straddle his knees. You sit on his lower thighs, far back from the crotch seam of his black jeans and lift your head to look at him.

“Not trying to have the police called on us, Ed.”

He shrugs a ‘fair enough’ type of shrug, and brings the hand with his cig off your knee and up to his lips, taking another drag. You watch the lit end of it burn brighter with his inhale, and die down when it’s pulled from his lips. He holds the smoke in his mouth, not letting it into his lungs yet.

His other hand lifts off your other knee, gently bringing your chin towards him as he leans his torso forward so your lips are less than centimeters away. He then blows the smoke into your parted mouth, and you start to inhale what he gives you. Your lips barely touch, ghosting over each other, but it still gives you a flutter in your stomach at the intimacy.

Your hands slide onto either side of his neck, and one sneaks to the back of his skull, resting in his frizzy hair as you finish inhaling. Then, you lift your chin to blow the smoke out above his his head, making sure his face doesn't get a load of your puff.

He looks up at you licking his lips at the sight, finding you incredibly attractive when you smoke for some reason. Bringing his head forward, his hot lips meet the warm skin of your exposed neck under your lifted chin, planting a kiss. He pulls back and your head turns down to look at him with a smile, which he silently returns.

You feel his large palm of his empty hand now grip your clothed waist. The heat from his hand is felt through your shirt.

“Come closer,” Eddie mutters, “you’re so far away.” he whines, referring to you straddling his lower thighs, rather than his hips.

You smile, deciding to tease him a bit. “But Eddie, I’m right here-”

“Oh c’mon, princess,” he tugs at your waist, attempting to pull you closer. He brings his voice down to a cliche flirty tone, “I don’t bite...” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, not unless you want me to.” he corrects himself.

You scoff playfully, “Oh my god, Eddie. Whatever.”

“Ok ok, no biting.” he raises both hands in a surrender, and you slide forward. You sit on his crotch area and place your hands on his broad shoulders, over his vest and jacket.

“I lied.” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He giggles cute boyish giggles as he leans in and playfully bites your shoulders and neck, grabbing your waist tightly with both hands, not letting you escape. He’s still holding the cig between his fingers, careful not to burn anything as he holds your squirming body firmly in place.

His head tosses around your frame, feeling his teeth gently nibble at you over and over. You can’t help but giggle and snort at his ridiculous way of flirting. You feel his shoulders shake, and his chest vibrates with laughter.

But then, you feel a particular bite that has your breath hitching. He bites at the spot under your jaw and just above the column of your neck- the soft spot that always makes you react when his mouth shows it any bit of attention.

You try to bring yourself together before he can notice.

“Ok- ok! Eddie-” you say between airy laughs. You lean back, pushing his denim and leather covers shoulders forward. This stops his biting, and he licks his lips to re-moisten them after moving all over your skin. His hands still rest over your shirt, gripping your waist.

You grab both sides of his face and squish them, making his lips puff out and the eyelids of his dark brown eyes wrinkle closer together. He looks weirdly cute like this.

“Stay still.” you tell him, no hint of seriousness found in your voice at all, hands still squeezing his heated cheeks.

He tries to speak to you, but with his mouth and cheeks all forced together, his words come out funny.

“yesh ma’am.” he says, lips unable to actually touch- earning a chuckle from you and a muffled one from him.

You release his face, smoothing your hands back to his ears, both thumbs in-front of them, while the rest of your fingers are resting on his scalp. You rub the pads of your thumbs back and forth on his face as he brings his cig up to his mouth for one last drag.

He’s careful when he exhales, not wanting to blow smoke into your face. His head turns away from to blow the smoke out, and you notice how his pale neck is now exposed to you.

You lean in to place your lips on the thin pulsing skin, giving him a gentle kiss. You pull back, hands still cupping his warm face while he turns his head and looks into your eyes. A smile slowly creeps onto his face while he stares at you, looking as if his eyes are thanking you for your sweet gesture.

Eddie puts out his cigarette, tossing the butt across the van and bringing his hand back to your waist. He looks at your lips, and then back to your eyes.

“So, uhh...” he says, and you can feel his breath hit your face at your close proximity. It smells like cigarettes and his all-too-familiar toothpaste. “..how about a kiss here, huh?” he smiles, and brings his hand off your waist to point a ringed finger at his mouth.

You smirk, “Real smooth, Ed.”

“What? Did it work?”

You ponder. “Close your eyes and find out, charmer.”

He immediately closes his brown eyes, patiently waiting for your lips, cutely trying to hold back his smile. The corners of his lips have faint wrinkles as he attempts to not let them curl up into a grin.

You lower your eyelids half way as you lean into his mouth. The moment your lips touch, you close your eyes completely, slowly kissing him. Feeling his warm lips layer onto your own- which his are just barely chapped, but still as pillowy and welcoming as ever- draws a silent hum from you.

Your lips move slowly against his, setting a gentle and intimate pace, which he follows. Your body feels Eddies hands glide down your clothed torso slowly, inching more and more after every heart beat. Automatically, your heads tilt to give eachother more access to your mouths, both equally thirsting for one another.

Eddies hands have now moved down to the bottom hem of your shirt, slipping his fingers under the edge of the fabric, and placing them on your bare waist. You feel his warm thumbs brush over your skin in a back and forth motion, while the hot air from his nose exhales over your joined lips.

When his tongue slips out to glide over the tip of your own, you lean into his body more. Instantly, your hands become desperate, wildly smoothing around his scalp and accidentally tugging his knots in his wavy hair. He silently chuckles against your mouth at your sudden passion.

Your wet tongues slip over each other even more, opening and closing your mouths but never breaking the kiss. You feel him match your sudden greed by biting your lower lip and tugging it back before immediately putting your lips together again. Your hands push back further into his hair, pulling his body closer to your own, making your chests flushed against each other, and his large warm hands move up from your waist to your back, brushing over your bra strap. They rest somewhere near your shoulder blades.

Your body reacts to his roaming hands and needy kissing by sliding your hips forward, gently grinding on Eddie. With your breasts pressing up to his chest, your hips rolling on his semi under his black denim jeans, and hands smoothing all over his hair and face, he groans into your mouth.

Anytime your breasts press into him, it makes his head spin, even if they’re covered. His perverted thoughts run rampant, picturing how they bounce when you ride him, or how they squish and mold into his hands when he palms them. He remembers the noises you make when he puts his wet lips around your nipples, or the way your hands tug at his hair while you whimper from the harsh hickeys he gives to the swell of your breasts.

All of those thoughts make his face heat up as he kisses you, all just from your covered chest pressing into his barely clothed one.

Another roll of your hips, another second of your chest against his body, and he’s groaning again. He has to pull back and break the kiss, catching his breath and trying to collect himself. Your hips stop moving in response, and you feel his hands come down your back to your butt, resting over the back pockets of your shorts.

“Aw. Can’t handle it, Ed?” you tease, even though you’re equally as out of breath as he is.

His dark eyes peer up challengingly at you, lifting an eyebrow under his messy curls for bangs. His open mouth twists into a teeth showing half-smile.

“And if I can?” he asks with sudden confidence.

“So what? You want a medal, big boy?” you mock him, smiling at his pretty face.

“No, you’ll do.” he says sweetly, leaning in to peck your lips. When he pulls back, he looks at your face and just wants to kiss you again.

“You’re sweet, Ed.” You lean in to plant kisses on his forehead, cheek, nose, and finally mouth. His heart flutters from the affection.

Soon enough, sounds of wet lips moving against each other fill the van again, and you’re both making out. The feeling of his affectionate hands roaming under your shirt, and on the heated skin of your torso is enough to make you forget all about the wholesome moment you had a little while ago. Your own hands roam around his neck and hair. You’re both just lost in the warmth, smell, and feel of each other in his cozy, familiar van.

His hands come up to where your bra hooks together, and he struggles to unclip it, making you giggle against his smiling mouth. Mixed saliva lightly coats your lips when you pull away, lifting your hands under your shirt to unhook your bra. You keep your shirt on as you slide the straps over your shoulders, and slip it under your clothing until the warm fabric is exposed to the cool night air, and Eddies lustful gaze. He watches you like it’s a peep show, and you’re surprised he didn’t jokingly whistle at you.

You toss your bra away, returning back to Eddies mouth, and his greedy hands go under your shirt again. Your tongues roll over each other, heads tilting, and lips entwine together lustfully. Eddies heated palms finally go to your breasts, cupping the undersides of them.

He starts gentle, but that doesn’t last long at all. You quietly moan against his mouth as he squeezes and gropes your chest with determination. His blunt flinger tips graze up your flesh, making it to your nipples and he rolls his thumb over them. They rub side to side, before pinching them between his thumb and pointer fingers, causing you to make a pitchy sound.

You retaliate by biting down on his lower lip and tugging it out, making him groan deeply before rejoining your lips. Your hips grind on him, wanting more stimulation to your aroused body. He continues to desperately palm your chest, large hands never ceasing.

There is a pattern of groping and grinding that’s warming up your bodies quickly, making you forget all about the occasional breeze that comes into the van to lift the corners of the blankets and carry Eddies curls to your face before they fall back down. All of your joined rushed movements and kisses brings you both to a state of sexual need that you can’t turn back from.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss, just for him to put his pink lips elsewhere. His head tilts to the side, leaning into your neck and placing his wet and warm lips there, passionately. Like, really passionately. His kisses to your neck are saying ‘I love you, but I really need to fuck you. I really need to feel you cum on me, beg for me, cry for me, and to just need me back.’

He starts licking small lines and punctuating them with kisses or bites, making your neck crane back and drawing pleasured sighs from you. His tongue is warm and wet on your pulse, his lips are pillowy on your now shiny skin, and his teeth are strong on the skin he sucks.

He finally reaches that sweet spot on your neck, the one that has you gripping his hair and making you groan and whimper. He gives it even more attention, smiling on your skin at your reactions. The sounds of his layered clothes shuffling as he switches over to the other side of your neck, trying to find your sweet spot there, fill your heated ears.

Your head turns to give him access, eyes shutting close as he uses his mouth to further ignite your skin. Your stomach bubbles with lust, feeling those flutters of passion around your core, sinking down to your clothed entrance. You’re getting wet, slicking up your underwear, soon to drip to the fabric of your shorts, sitting right above Eddies hard on.

His neck kisses feel so fucking good, but when you open your eyes and turn your head, you’re brought to the sight of the high school behind the open van doors.

His head is still in your neck, shuffling around to stimulate your saliva covered skin while you stare out the doors, not too excited about them being open. You’re not sure of you want someone to wander and see you on Eddie’s lap, his hands under your shirt and face in your neck.

“Eddie,” you whine, “the van doors..” your voice is quiet, but still loud enough to be heard over the quiet Iron Maiden music, and Eddies kissing sounds.

You feel his lips detach, and head turn up to look at your eyes locking with his.

“Aw babe, what are you worried about?” his eyes look at your face, slightly worried, slightly aroused. His hands under your shirt have moved down to your rib cage, resting there for now. He tries to reassure your nerves. “Look-” he turns his head and gestures to the empty high school. Your eyes follow, once again. “The school’s closed, and the back of the van is facing it too, so no one’s gonna see us.”

His head turns back to you, but yours is still, yet again, focused on the empty building. Your eyes dart over the windows and doors, but while you’re distracted, Eddie leans his lips towards your ear, since it’s easily accessible now that your head is turned. He gives it a sweet kiss.

Then, you feel his breath when he speaks into it, “Plus,” he gently bites your ear lobe, making you no longer pay attention to the empty school. “If some lucky soul did happen to see us- or me fucking the shit out of you-” his voice rasps, lips moving to your jaw to plant a kiss there, “-I think it would be kinda hot.” he moves his smiling mouth down to the column of your throat, kissing you, “Don’t you think?”

You quietly moan at his perverted confession and his warm, skillful mouth.

“They’d see you moaning my name,” he speaks lowly, sucking gently on your neck, “and riding my dick...” he gently bites, hands now squeezing your waist. “...won’t they, dollface?”

He pulls back to look at you, trying to sense any reassurance in your face to let him keep going.

Your eyes are half lidded, unable to keep them fully open, now too heavy with lust. You look at his pink lips, then back to hit deep brown eyes. You’d be lying if you said what his words didn’t get your mind racing. If the images he put in your head didn’t get your face hot.

"Yeah, you would be into that, Eddie." You taunt, trying to keep your composure.

He laughs through his nose, smiling, "And you wouldn't?" He challenges.

You start to lean into his neck as you speak to him, “Let’s find out then, huh?”

His lips faintly curl at your boldness, and once your lips touch his neck, he’s tilting out to the side to let your mouth roam around his skin more. Eddie takes so much pleasure in the feeling of your mouth kissing his skin, and he sighs gently when your tongue runs a stripe from the base of his neck, up to his sharp jaw.

Fuck, why does he feel so warm on your tongue?

You bring your hands to his broad shoulders, tugging at his jacket and vest as you suck a hickey onto his pulse point. He brings his own hands up to peel his layers off, shuffling his arms and torso around to slide his leather and denim off effectively. You feel his body torque and twist, but he tries to keep his neck as straight as he can for you.

Your mouth continues to wetly dote on his skin, making his eyes squint shut and re-open from pleasure. His hands, which you didn’t even notice return to your body, are resting on your hips, starting to squeeze roughly every now and then in reaction to your teeth sinking down on his thin warm skin of his neck. Your love bites make a trail from his neck, to the base of it, then to the skin between his shoulders and collar bones.

His immensely tight grip on you just edges you on even more, beginning to semi-roughly grind onto his sideways erection. You’re in desperate need to get any sort of stimulation to your soaking entrance. You’re pulsing down there, practically feeling your heart beat in your pussy just from making out and being touched improperly all over your tense body -- except where you need it most.

Eddie catches onto your fervor, moving his rough hands to the front on your shorts, letting his thumb rub over the chilled metal-like button of them, basically his way to letting you know he wants to take your shorts off. Your mouth moves from off his neck to look at his face, and before he can say anything, you’re kissing him roughly, and rolling your hips towards his hands, begging him to touch your center.

He uses both his hands to multitask and unbutton your shorts while kissing you back. His black nail polished thumb and pointer finger pull your zipper down. Once the front flaps of your shorts are open, he impatiently tucks his heated right hand into them, sliding over your panties, not bothering to take your shorts off at all. His warm palm cups your mound over the damp fabric, giving it a loving and gentle squeeze. It makes his ringed fingers apply more pressure to your wetness, causing you to moan into his mouth.

You grind into his soft grip, body still greedy for more. His thick middle finger begins to rub the fabric over your slit. Eddie massages it with a gentle pace, simultaneously spreading your wetness underneath. His touch sends heat up your spine and to your face, making your eyes clench tightly. Each stroke of his fingers draws moan after moan from you against his pink lips, and he’s not even making proper contact with your skin.

You continue to kiss Eddie harder, hands gripping at his dark hair, wide neck, and broad shoulders. Anything you can grab onto as you rock your core against his fingers, huffing out through your nose.

Eddie eventually just lets his fingers stay still, allowing you to set your own pace, rubbing yourself against him, whining into his mouth. He’s enjoying your erotic display of neediness. He loves the way you show how much you crave his touch, how much he can turn you on with just his mouth and fingers, how good any part of his body feels against you, even if you’re clothed.

“Eddie...” you whine, tucking your head into the right side of his neck, “fingers...” your words come out as a weak plea.

He lightly chuckles. “What about ‘em?” his gentle voice travels to your right ear.

You rub your clothed entrance once more on his blunt finger. “Inside,” you speak quietly, down to his chest, too embarrassed to use your words. “want them inside me...”

He sucks his teeth, patronizingly. “Aw...” he mutters, head turning to your hair, “Can’t do that too well with these shorts on, though, huh?” He’s talking as if he isn’t the one who kept them on you.

You raise your head slowly, soon to have your eyes meeting his sly face. Any other time, you would make a witty remark to your smug bastard of a boyfriend, but this time, you’re just beyond sexually frustrated. You’re a heated, aroused, aching mess that just seriously needs to be touched, with underwear that gets wetter and slicker with every second.

You lift off your legs to slide down your unzipped shorts, and his doe eyes watch your every move. Eddie watches the denim brushing down your thighs that he loves so much, sliding over your calves, kicking them off your feet. Your underwear follows shortly after, and you slightly cringe at the stringy globs of wetness attached, connecting your cunt to the fabric. He’s practically eye fucking you the whole time. His cute tongue pokes out to lustfully lick his lips while you crawl back onto his lap.

You straddle him once again, this time having a completely bare lower body. He wastes no time in having his hands move to squeeze your bare upper thighs, moulding them under his grip. His curly head tucks into your neck, like second nature, and he places the most passionate, wet, open mouthed kisses all over your skin.

His hands slide from your upper thighs, to your hips, then to the bare globes of your ass. Eddie squeezes them with an aggressive fervor, then adding his teeth to your neck. He sucks a harsh hickey onto your neck, while his warm palms grope at your curves, pulling them apart and squeezing them back together, making you roll forward into his lower body.

“Eddie...” you whine and warn at the same time, but before you can get anymore words out, his ringed pointer and middle finger lift to your mouth, slowly slipping them inside until his rings touch your lips.

“Quiet, please sweetheart.” He says against your neck, causing you to feel his hot breath meet your wet skin, sending a chill to your face. “I’m gettin’ there, I promise.” he reassures you.

His fingers stay in your mouth and you grip his wrist, twirling your tongue around them while you suck, wallowing in how thick they are - wishing they were in you somewhere else. His other hand is still on your ass, continuing to grope you as Eddie’s fingers pacify you. His mouth still roams on your jaw, neck, and collar bone, leaving marks that you’ll wear for the next few days.

All of his attention on you makes you moan against his fingers. Your entrance is still bare and soaked, impatiently waiting for attention, grinding yourself on nothing. He notices your needy muffled moans and rolling hips. It makes him grin a self satisfying grin into your neck, feeling cocky from the way your body craves for him.

“Oh baby, you need something?” he teases, knowing well that you can’t respond with his fingers shoved into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. You try to tell him you want him to finger you already, but your voice is muffled with the first syllable.

“Why aren’t you using your words?” he looks at you, smiling before he turns his face into a fake sentimental one ,“What’s wrong? Don’t you need something?” he cocks his head to the side, fake worrying and driving you insane.

Little shit.

You impatiently pout against his fingers, moving your hands into the back of his hair and gripping it pleadingly. His head jerks slightly, letting his jaw fall down to chuckle at you- and if your underwear wasn't already all off, it would be even more soaked from that damn chuckle of his.

“Ok, ok!” he says between raspy giggles, “so damn- it’s so damn cute when you pout with my fingers in your mouth...” his fingers slide out before he finishes his sentence, “...and, I’m gonna need you to hold these for me.” he says, slipping his rings off his 2 fingers and lifting your palm. His lips feel hot as he kisses your inner wrist before sliding his 2 rings on.

“Aw.” you speak sarcastically, “Eddie baby, how roma- mmf”

His lips are on yours before you can get all your sarcasm out, but you feel him smile against your mouth. And finally, his thick fingers - wet with your own saliva - slide through your slick folds, sending heat up your body all the way to your face. Your arms cross around his neck and shoulders, wildly griping onto his dark hair and melting into his body.

His wet pointer and middle finger tips slowly rub up and down your slit while his mouth silences any of your moans you want to let out. You grow impatient at his pace, starting to roll your hips into his moving fingers. The night air is cool but your body feels so damn warm, even when you’re practically half naked in just your shirt. You’re so wet that the noises of Eddie’s fingers moving through your folds can be heard through the van, unable to be drowned out by the quiet radio at all.

Every time his finger tips graze over your clit, your body tenses, making your thighs clench and your kiss deepen. His other hand that was once on your ass is now moving up your body, seeking out your tits. His rough finger tips pinch at your nipple while his other finger tips rub at your entrance, stimulating your body’s most sensitive points in the way he knows drives you crazy.

You cant hold your moans back so you tear your lips away from his, head immediately falling onto his warm shoulder. You pant and whimper into his upper body, bawling your fists into his cut up tank top while his finger tips continue to play with you. His head turns to the side to kiss your hair, muttering about how cute you are when you get overwhelmed.

Your hips start rolling even faster, body getting warmer and needier. He eats it up, the way your body begs for him without ever having to use your words. You tug the strap of his tank top down his shoulder, bringing you trembling lips to his skin.

You feel Eddie easily sliding one of his thick fingers into your heat, walls forming around it like memory foam while your lips move over his skin. Your tongue licks up his shoulder, and your teeth mark up his flesh, pulling little groans from him with your harsh mouth while he draws moans from you with his single finger. He feels so good, you cant believe its just a single finger thats getting you this hot and heavy.

But you can believe that your body is still thirsty for-

“More..” you whine, “need more fingers, Eddie...” you finish your begging with kisses to the base of his neck. You then start to suck over the spot you kissed, letting your teeth join in.

“Only if you, shit- yeah keep biting me babe,” he huffs, rewarding you with 2 fingers now to pump you faster “fuck, you better mark me up.” Eddies demand sounded much more desperate than controlling- like he was begging for you to mark him as if he was all yours, like he belonged to you only.

His request, along with his skillful fingers, brings you to a new type of arousal. Your body reacts by roughly gripping the back of his head and taking advantage of his exposed neck, leaving a few small bruises. His hand that was on your breast now grips your ribcage for support from your unforgiving mouth.

You can feel his throat vibrate under your lips as he groans. “ah, fuck-” he hisses when he inhales, “s-shit, there it is...”

His hand on your rib moves down in-between your thighs, letting his thumb circle your clit while 2 thick fingers move in and out of you, making you gush around them.

“Fuck, Eddie! Oh my god..” You moan into his wavy hair.

Your palm comes down to cup his very evident erection, squeezing at his firm shaft under his denim. You want to tease him as much as he’s been teasing you. The noise he lets out is soft, but it still drives you crazy. You can hear and feel how turned on he is, it makes you moan right back.

Your ears begin to heat up from the noises your pussy makes, thinking it sounds obnoxiously wet. But, like the pervert Eddie is, he grins at it while you feel almost embarrassed by it.

“You hear that, huh y/n?” he teases, and you can really hear the shit eating grin in his voice, “Fuckin’ love the sounds you make.” Eddie groans, getting off to his fingers in you, your hand on his jean covered dick, and your mouth leaving dark hickeys on his upper body. He is especially getting off to the wet sounds of your begging pussy.

“I lay awake at night trying to remember this exact sound.” he confesses, lips leaning towards your ear. “Wanna know how many times I fuck myself to it?”

Oh fuck.

“How many times I made myself cum from it?” his raspy voice continues, giving you butterflies as you feel his breath on the shell of your ear. “How badly I want to make it leak on me? I mean, shit- it drives me fuckin’ crazy.”

You can barely handle his fingers stimulating both your clit and your entrance, and now you have to hear his incredibly hot perverted thoughts too?

You whimper, starting to feel deliciously overwhelmed. “hnng, Eddie...”

“And that too,” he rambles, arm still pistoning between your legs “the way you say my name, like it’s all you know how to do,” he pants out a curse under his breath, letting his head fall back, sticking his chin up. “It’s enough to make me blow, like right now.”

You head tilts up, smiling before tugging on his earlobe. “Don’t tease.”

He scoffs.

One hand of yours tugs at his scalp while the other still palms his jeans. Your back begins to arch from his fingers working your clit and walls. Your voice trembles when you moan, telling Eddie how good it feels, begging for him to keep going.

You feel heat pool in your stomach, muscles contracting all over your body. You turn your head to Eddie’s lips, kissing him and pathetically moaning into his mouth. Both your hands slide under the hem of his tank top, fingers gliding over the textured groves and marks of his healed skin.

Scar tissue.

Your hands move over them, rising up to seek out his already hard nipples. Your eager finger tips graze them and roll them under your thumbs. You feel him exhale shakily through his nose at your teasing to his sensitive pink buds. You then put them between your pointer and thumb fingers, slowly squeezing more pressure, bit by bit, waiting until he makes a noise against your mouth. Once he makes a small, high pitched noise, you know you’ve struck gold.

You roll your finger tips together at that pressure, beginning to make him squirm into your kiss, lighting his body into a fire of arousal. You bite at his lower lip, just to drive him more crazy until you decide to continue kissing him again. You feel his plush pink lips vibrate against yours from his whimpers, and his hands between your legs stiffen every now and then from the pleasure he’s feeling, before getting himself back on track.

He tears his lips away, and they now appear to glisten with your combined spit in the van light. His fingers halt on you, thumb leaving your clit while his 2 fingers stay still inside your walls.

“Keep doing that n’ I’m gonna fuck you.” He warns, even though he’s smiling.

“Maybe that’s the point, smart guy.” You smile too.

His eyebrow raises and the corner of his lip follows.

You begin to lift his tank top over his head, dark curls poofing out once the fabric lifts over his face. They fall back onto his neck and wide shoulders, brown hair contrasting with his pale skin covered in faded black tattoos. Your eyes travel down to where the red pick necklace points to, practically guiding your sight down his lean body.

You see his healed scars, starting with small, yet deep scratches, then increasing to violent looking, wide spread marks. The scar tissue is a fleshy white color. Your finger tips slide over the bumps of tissue, and Eddie just stares at your focused face the whole time.

You hear him inhale - just a tiny bit, before he speaks.

“Yeah.. they’re pretty gnarly huh?” he says awkwardly, trying to take your mind off of wherever it’s wandering to. His giggle is forced, but you don’t mind.

Your giggle, however, is real in response to his light hearted remark. “Yes,” you smile, “very metal.” Your eyes break away, looking up into his brown doe eyes, glinting with the lighting from inside and outside the van.

Both your hands rise up, now sitting on the sides of his defined face. Your hand with his 2 rings on your fingers cools his cheek, and you can feel the large ring bands push out, exposing the gap between the steel and your skin.

Before you can lean in to kiss him, your eyes twitch and flutter as you feel his fingers enter you again, and then wiggle in you. Your breath hitches at his naughty way of teasing, not moving them in or out, just keeping them pushed inside you and wiggling them around your stimulated walls.

“Your turn, princess.” he remarks, rasp in his voice. “Take your shirt off for me, huh?”

You scoff playfully before bringing your hands down to your shirt, careful to not let Eddies rings fall off your fingers. You raise it off your torso, exposing your naked breasts first. Your body is now completely bare while you straddle Eddie’s shirtless figure.

Eddie eyes your chest, dark pupils switching side to side between both of your erect nipples. Before you can cover yourself, bashful from his admiring, he leans in to your chest.

“You’re an angel,” he speaks dreamily into your skin, “so beautiful.” His lips place passionate adoring kisses all over your chest, purposefully avoiding your nipples.

Your hands are in his thick waves of hair, resting on his scalp, while you continue to feel his hair brush over your bare skin paired with his warm lips edging closer to where you want them most. Your back arches into his affection, trying to get him to finally suck your nipples.

His face sinks lower, lips moving closer and closer to your bud. His tongue comes out first, teasingly licking it. He swirls around it a few times, adding pressure until he finally wraps his lips and sucks harshly.

Sucking sounds fill between you both, and your whimpers come out every time he uses his teeth. He switches between nipples, and you’re left to grind onto his fingers that slowly return to pumping in and out of you, prepping you for something bigger.

His lips feel so warm, and the attention he’s giving your chest is worth praising.

“mmm- good boy, Eddie...” The way you moan, the praise, and the sound of his name from your pleasured voice pushes him so far. He fingers you faster and sucks harder, the erection in his pants is now insufferable.

With some final licks, sucks, and bites, he pulls away, looking at you while faintly panting.

“Does this mean you’re gonna ride me now?” he asks hopefully.

You grin, looking down at his jeans, hand coming back to his bulge to give it a firm squeeze. “You’re asking me like I could ever refuse.” Your eyes flicker back up to his own, maintaining eye contact as you unbutton his jeans and pull his zipper down.

His fingers pull out of you to rushingly do the rest. He looks down, pulling his dick out and dragging his boxers and pants down to just above his knees. You watch him move quickly, showing a silent display of desperateness to be inside you.

His shaft sits up on his lower scared stomach, towering over his dark happy trail that makes you bite your lip every time you see it. His pink tip is shining in small bits of pre cum, squeezed out from your groping.

While your eyes look at his shaft, his eyes look at your body. He grips his dick, loosely pumping it at the sight of you sitting on him. He looks at your bare thighs, admiring the way they squish out because of the way you’re sitting on him. He’s reminded of they squish and tremble at the sides of his face when he’s tucked between them, mouth about to make you cum. His eyes trail up to your exposed pussy that he loves so much, then up your stomach to your breasts that he was just giving affection to.

“Condom, Eddie?” you ask gently.

“Uhh, yeah- front jean pocket.” he directs you towards his pocket that has the condom in it. Once you grab it, he takes it out of your hand, even though you didn’t actually give it to him, but you don’t mind.

He eyes the square package before bringing the corner of it to his mouth, ripping it down the edge to tear it off in one swift motion. He puffs the teared side of the package between his lips away from you both, pulls the lubed ring out, and disposed the rest of the package somewhere next to him.

He rolls the condom onto his incredibly firm shaft, making sure it’s secured all the way to the bottom. He wastes no time in grabbing your hips, aiding you to hover over his tip.

Your hands grip the warm skin of his broad shoulders, letting your forehead rest on his. Your entrance hangs over him, wet and gaping, and you inhale as you lower yourself, connecting to his tip and slowly sinking down an inch, then 2, then 3.

Your eyelashes flutter and your hole takes more of him in, and Eddie exhales a shaky breath of relief, finally being able to be inside you. The stretch of his dick and the tightness of your walls makes both your mouths hang open.

Eddie hums a deep noise when you rise up slowly, and then sink back down with a forward curl of your hips, repeating the process at your own gentle pace. With every new lift, sink, and roll of your hips, your breath speeds faster and Eddie gets more restless.

He utters an occasional curse, making your ears go hot. Every time you pull your hips forward, he squeezes your hips tighter. His head falls back, gently hitting the van wall as his chest rises steadily, eyes of his closing shut from pleasure. His hands now understand your pace and pattern of movement, so he guides you firmly, and you feel the force of his hands moving you in your set direction. It feels really good, giving you more butterflies.

Your hand with his rings on it move to the back of his neck, pulling him forward to bring your bare chests close together. You kiss him aggressively, using your teeth to bite as his lip, and your tongue to swirl over his own in his hot mouth. Your hands grip his curls at his scalp, further expressing your aroused aggression, letting your pussy clamp onto his shaft with a vice grip every now and then.

Eddie whines into your mouth, squeezing your hips as he forces them to move faster. Your kiss takes both your breaths away, making you both pull back and catch your breath while your hips continue to fuck him in and out of your hole. You’re both panting, hair still in your grip making him shiver from the way the pain turns him on.

You feel him buck up into you, impatiently slamming himself into you, matching the pace he set for you both. You moan over and over again, head tilting back rasing your chin up. Your hand slips out of his hair to cover your loud mouth while his half lidded eyes watch your every move, red ears hearing your every muffled noise, and hard dick feeling the pressure of your walls surround him.

“God d-damn it,” he groans, staring at you, “let me hear you, p-please princess... let me, fuck-!” he’s begging you. How can you refuse such a good boy begging for you?

You reluctantly move your hand away from your mouth, placing both your hands back on his shoulders. Some of your fingers are touching his hair that’s sticking to the skin of his shoulder, nails digging into him while your eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed from pleasure of being fucked so well at the right spot.

Eddie bites his lip at the noises you make, now sounding much clearer and louder. He watches your mouth hang open, and the way you tuck your lip behind your teeth when you say “Fuck”. The way your eyebrows furrow when his name leaves your lips. They way your eyes open to stare at his inked body between your legs. The way your breasts move with your body. The way you tuck your head into his neck, panting and huffing into his hair.

“hnnn, Eddie... feels s’good-” you moan, “Don’t stop” you say, referring to the way he’s holding onto your rising and falling hips while thrusting himself into you.

You tuck his hair away from his neck, then bite into his pulse point again, just the way he loves. You lick the tip of your tongue over the divots forming into his skin, before sucking harshly. He groans loudly, head falling back once more while his eyes clench shut harshly.

“Shiiiit-” he whimpers, keeping one hand on your hip while the other pushes your head further into his neck, his way of telling you he wants you to keep going.

You smile into his neck, “Good boy, keep making noises.” You praise him, making his abdomen clench and dick twitch in you. Each roll of your hips has him squeezing more onto the back of the part between your skull and neck. You lick and bite all the way up to his ear lobe, pulling and tugging it between your teeth, making Eddie sigh a shakey breath into your own ear.

Your head comes back to admire your work on his pale skin, new red marks next to your older ones from minutes ago, sure to feel incredibly sore for the next few days. But Eddie being the freak he is, is going to welcome the side effects of the sadistic pain you inflict on him.

His hand that was on the base of your skull slides to the side of your face. His thick thumb presses on your lower lip, and your tongue comes out to lick the pad of it. The look on your face is teasing.

He stares at you, his thick eyelashes blink once before he lifts his pointer and middle finger up to your mouth. You automatically open it so he can slide them in, welcoming them once again. Your tongue tastes them, swirling around his digits as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick.

Your eyes literally roll back, and you moan a relaxed moan, feeling a sense of relief from his fingers in your mouth. You feel your eyebrows slant down, sounds vibrating around his thick fingers, so turned on by his hands giving you all this attention. It makes you bounce on his dick with more motivation.

Your vision flickers down to his doe eyes, already staring at you with drool coming out of the corners of your completely stuffed mouth. You both can now feel the van slightly recoil, gently and faintly shaking back and forth on its wheels from your rough, fast paced, fucking.

His other hand that was on your hip comes down to the front of your body, sinking to where you’re both connected. His thumb finds your clit making you jolt, and he rubs weak circles on it. His tongue comes out to lick his pink smiling lips - watching you squirm on him with a cocky look on his pretty face. You’re overwhelmed from pleasure, but unable to make much noise about it due to his fingers filling your mouth to the brim.

“Aw. Can’t handle it, baby?” head tilting to the side a little, mocking your own comment from earlier.

Bold coming from someone who’s equally drunk off pleasure. You groan on his fingers, and the vibrations from your mouth, as well as the heat and wetness of your tongue and lips sends a shiver up him. Your hips shift from bouncing to gently grinding, sliding back and forth on his shaft and into his thumb tracing your clit.

You can’t stop whining, and Eddie can’t stop panting. You’re both so turned on by how good you’re making each other feel. His pleasure from your pussy and your noises drives you crazy, and your pleasure, including your muffled sounds from the way he makes you feel, makes his head spin.

He notices how your body is reacting to him. He wants to be a little bit of a tease, he can’t help it. "Feels that good huh, sweetheart?" he taunts. “You like my fingers in your mouth, huh?” he asks, knowing you can’t speak.

You nod, eyes barely able to stay open.

“Such a good girl...” he praises, finger on your clit suddenly moving faster, making your shoulders tremble, “So responsive... it’s s’fuckin’ hot,” he groans, “I love it, give me more baby.”

Your body continues to jolt and shiver at his pressure on your clit and his dick stretching you out, filling you up. Your hips are grinding faster, rolling with a new speed and fervor. Your hand comes up to his neck, lightly wrapping your fingers around the front of it, thumb and finger tips touching your marks on his skin.

Your walls are clenching him, riding him aggressively while lightly choking him as he practically gags you. You’re huffing through your nostrils, thighs slightly burning but your pleasure motivates you to power through.

“Jesus- fuck,” he hisses, "g-good girl, ride it like it's yours."

You moan at his erotic words. He’s so good at talking to you in the heat of the moment. Especially when his words come out shakey and weak from his arousal, it gets you going. You love how he looks like he’s about to fall apart under you.

His fingers slip out of your mouth, heading to your hips, gripping them for support. You exhale heavily through your now free mouth. Your hand leaves off his throat and dig your nails into him elsewhere, near his shoulders.

You now switch between bounding to grinding on him, noises of both your moans drowning out his low volume radio, the sounds of your wetness around his shaft, and even the faint noises of the few cars that drive past the roads in the front part of the van. Your head falls to his shoulder.

“hnngg, Eddie... you feel s’good...” your voice is music to his ears. He needs to hear more of it, more of your praise, curses, moans, all of it. Your voice laced with pleasure that he brings you, it turns him on much more than it should.

“Fuck- say you love me,” Eddie groans, begging you.

Your face heats up at his sudden intimate request, stomach flipping now that you’re suddenly flustered.

Your voice is breathy and light, “I love you, Ed.” you say next to his ear.

He feels like he’s gonna explode right there. “Look at me... please,” his voice sounds soft. Your eyes meet his, trying to prevent them from closing from all the pleasure he’s bringing you. “Say it again, pretty girl” he pleads for you, out of breath. His thumb on your clit slows down, and it wont speed back up until you say it again.

You whine once more, eyes staring into his brown, chocolate colored ones while you ride him, “Fuck... I love you,” and you really mean it. He brings your head close to his face, pulling you in for a very deep kiss, keeping his wide hand on the back of your skull.

Your try to gyrate your hips and make out with him at the same time, finding it difficult to keep your breath steady from doing 2 breath taking things at once. You feel the fat of your ass slapping against his thighs, with his fingers curling around the back of your skull, forcing your face to stay connected to his. His thumb rubs your slippery clit, bringing you more vibrations of pleasure up and down your body.

Your pussy continues to leak and squelch around him, while your tongues stay circling around each other, drawing mewls from you both. Your stomach feels seething heat, making you realize you’re not far from a climax.

Your walls pulsate with heavy arousal, and Eddie feels this through the condom. The way you won’t stop clenching around him, sucking him in, moaning on his lips, even the way you smell, it’s taking over all his senses. He’s worried now because he knows he’s going to finish before you.

You pull off his mouth to catch your breath, but when you see his face, you have to bite your lip to hold yourself back. His eyes are barely open, brows creasing above them as they slant. His mouth can’t close, lips hanging open, exhaling heavily. His bangs are messy, some of the ends attach to his shining forehead. His neck is absolutely covered in bite marks and hickeys, adams apple bobbing in the center.

His tongue comes out to lick the upper corner of his lips, following with a deep breath - at least, as deep as he can get from his overwhelmed state.

“Please,” he half whines, half begs, “if you keep, fuck- if you k-keep going, ‘m gonna c-cum..” he says in the most pathetic way. His voice is pitchy, sounding like a sad whiny mess.

“So tell me to stop.” you pant, testing him. His begging only turns you on more, starting to get you closer to finishing. “I know you wanna cum, pretty boy,” you say to his sweaty, pleasured face, “so let me see it.” Your head comes to his ear, letting you hear how good he’s making you feel, knowing how much that makes him squirm. He still lets you ride him anyway, circling his finger around your bud, eager to make you cum first.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Eddie hisses. “Shit-! mm- like that, j-just like that baby,” he can’t help but be vocal when you’re making him feel so good.

His hand on your clit starts to weaken, halting sometimes too. You bring your hand down to guide his.

“No, no, Eddie- need you to keep touching me,” you breathe out, getting closer to cumming. His thumb circles back on track. “Good boy, j-just like that, there you go...”

He whines from the sound of you praising him, calling him a good boy right in his ear. He ruts into you sloppily, making all kinds of erotic noises with his perfect mouth. Your legs tremble on top of his own, not too far away from your release.

Your head falls back, shoulders shaking and contracting.

“’m close, Eddie..” you whine his name.

His hand that’s holding your hip squeezes very tightly, fingers creasing into your hip, making his nails press little divots into your flesh. Your walls grip his shaft, tighter than ever, this time not relaxing at all.

“You’re fuckin’ clenching.. too damn tight,” Eddie complains with a pleasured noise, “Oh jesus chr- fuck! gonna cum, gonna cu- ah-!”

He’s spilling into the condom before he can get all his words out, and you continues to chase your very close climax with the sounds of his moans pushing you further.

You keep his hand on your clit, letting all the muscles in your body contract one last time for you finally cream all over his dick, listening to him praise you and tell you how beautiful you look when you cum. Your hips still pulse up and down, slowing with every lift. You feel him lean forward to your rising and falling body, placing kisses to your breasts and neck.

His eyes are taking in your whole face and figure. He watched you reach your high and come back down from it, worshiping your trembling body with his lips and words, while his shaft still rests inside you.

You finally come to a halt, still sitting on his dick as you catch your breath. Your bare naked bodies grow still, with the only movement coming from your rising chests- rest of your bodies too tired to do anything else.

Eddie realizes first before you do, that you’re very naked; more naked than he is, given the fact that his pants weren’t fully taken off. They were only pushed down to his knees. He reaches over to grab his battle vest, swinging it over your shoulders and tucking it close to your chest.

“For your modesty, sweetheart.” He smiles.

Your eyebrow raises. “Yeah, because fucking while the van doors are wide open shows how much you care about ‘modesty’.” you smile as you tease him. Your hands grab the sides of his vest, bringing the flaps closer to each other to cover your tits.

He leans in to peck your nose, then your lips, and pulls back to admire how cute you look in his vest.

“And what about your modesty?” Your eyes trail down his torso.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fully clothed soon. Did you at least have fun?” His hands come up to your side, rubbing his palms up and down you, soothingly.

“Yes,” you peck his lips, “this was a fun date.” you peck him again.

He brings his fist up, scrunching his face and shaking his closed hand in a little ‘hell yeah’ type of motion. His clenched eyes glance out the van, then open wide. “Woah- is that a person?”

Your head whips so fast towards the open doors, but you see nothing. Confused, you realized he’s messing with you. You look back at your trickster boyfriend and shove him. “Eddie!” Your little laugh has your walls semi vibrate around his semi soft erection that’s still in you. He smiles at you, trying to hold back his giggles.

“Sorry, sorry!” he jokes. “Too easy.”

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

people who wanted to be tagged @elshifts

taglist: @cringerat @cyberfaii @dickfacemcshitboner @cringerat @eddiemvnsongf @julietsecretdiary @iveseenstrangerthings50 @sansthelonelypunster @leslieelainetrask @rafecameronswhore @foggyloverpeanuthairdo-blog @eddiescorrodedcoffin86 @wojciechovsk @blossoming-cee @marlrocks @wojciechovsk @eddiescorrodedcoffin86 @theloser007 @cherrycoke-mp3 @zdarie @thatsonezesty13

#sub!eddie munson #sub eddie munson #eddie munson smut #dom eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x black!reader #perv!eddie munson #switch!eddie munson

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 1 year

Text

It was quite a shock when Damian had asked his brothers for assistance in a project for his advance music theory class.

It was a unspoken knowledge that music was a part of the Wayne family.

If they didn’t have an affinity for an instrument then it was singing and if not singing dancing.

Almost everyone who came into the family had some sort or knack and those who hadn’t picked it up along the way.

Damian was the most uninterested members when he had joined the family so it was quite a shock when he demanded help this morning.

Testing out the drums Jason shared a look with the others before asking,

“So why did you need all of us to begin with? You’re not recording or anything right?”

Damian let out a tch as for himself ready,

“Not right now, but I felt it imperative to go over my composition at least once altogether, in case I felt the need to add.”

The kid continued to tune the ukulele in his hands.

It was a strange choice for the ex assassin but when questioned he merely claimed it was due to it’s size being easier to travel with.

“Well I think it’s an interesting choice in lead instrument baby bird!”

Dick claimed as he played with his maraca while glancing over his sheet music.

“I think it will go nicely with the your lyrics! But I do have to ask-“

“I made the lyrics very clear.”

“And you did! But-“

Damian gave a glare as Dick took a seat.

“I will cut out the maracas, do not test me Richard.”

Tim gave a snort from his place slumped over the piano,

“Just be glad you got to see the vocal sheet music, he just annotated the places he wanted me to harmonize with you.”

“Yeah we’ll you kind of have to be more focused my your hands than anything else.”

Silence fell as they finished their warm ups and Damian began to strum his cords.

The eldest watched as the others raised their eyebrows at the tempo and of the tune but came just the the same.

“I lost my cool, I’m not sure how to act, not even sure how I can keep my pride intact.”

Jason felt his eyebrows raise at the lyrics as Dick and Tim started their backup harmonies.

“No, I'm not falling for you, so please have mercy on me

'Cause it's not romantic, I swear I'm not gasping for air

I want you to be here, but please don't come near

'Cause even though I'm pretty sure my head's exploding

I'm not ready for hand holding

It's not love, I swear It might be closer to despair.”

The first interlude began and Jason shot an incredulous look at Dick. Was this the demon brat? Were they sure he hadn’t been replaced in the night with some sappy clone?

Dick for his part tried to convey to younger brother to just keep playing.

“No, I don't want want you to teach me how to dance Get your heart away from me, you'll put me into a trance

And even though I think about you day and night

I'm not sure if this whole love thing sounds quite right”

Tim craned his neck as the chorus started again, to look at Damian and nearly fell off his stool when he realized that there was blush on the younger’s face.

‘Who in god’s name has somehow wiggled their way past the kid’s defenses?!’

Damian, for his part was refusing to look in the other’s direction as he powered through to the last verse.

“Cause even though I'm pretty sure my head's exploding

I'm not ready for hand holding

It's not love, I swear

It might be closer to despair”

Crooning the last notes to the song, Damian seemed to take a moment to gather himself before quickly striking last note and letting the room fill with silence.

No one seemed to know how to react after such a performance for a second.

Then Dick tried to clear the frog in his throat and the moment was over.

“Baby bird-“

“Cease your prodding, this was for a school project and nothing more.”

Damian gritted out as he stood from his seat,

“Now if you excuse me I am going to return to my room, I feel that if I were to add a bass to the background it would help with the mixing of sounds.”

And left as quickly as he could without raising suspicions.

“Holy fuck,”

Jason breathed out,

“When did the brat gain his first crush?”

“It has to be new.”

Tim rubbed his temple with his thumb,

“He’s still clearly in denial so he hasn’t really gotten used to the idea.”

“You say that like he doesn’t share his dna with the most emotionally constipated man in the known universe.”

“Guys.”

Dick raised his hands in exasperation,

“We can argue on whether or not he’s conscious about his crush later. Right now I want to do some background checks on this person.”

Before exiting the music room,

Tim gave him a disbelieving look,

“Background checks? Dick we don’t even have a name here.”

“Yeah dickhead, even if we’re assuming that he wrote this song about someone in his school we’re still looking a number in the hundreds.”

“That would be true,”

Dick’s eyes took a mischievous look as the other’s followed him into the office.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that Damian had complained about this assignment beforehand, so I know for a fact that it’s about someone in his Advanced music theory class.”

Jason and Tim shared a similar expression as they joined him in the cave.

“That does narrow it down a bit, what’s an average class size replacement?”

“Oh about 20 students, but with the fact that this is an non essential elective course, I would bet it to be smaller.”

With a shared nod and grin they started up the bat computer.

Not like they had any other big plans today anyways.

————

The song if you want

#listen this song has been hitting me over the head white the dead serious vibes so I finally gave in #dp x dc #writing prompt #dc x dp #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #dead serious #denial is a hell of a drug #and Damian may have a bit of an addiction to it #papa bats was very much watching the entire thing through his cameras #it is Danny he’s singing about #danny phantom #shipping #writting prompt #one shot

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tani-b-art · 2 months

Text

“This ain’t a Country album. This is a “Beyoncé” album.”

I understand why she said this! Because the way it seems she created a completely new genre with ‘Cowboy Carter’! The Country is there (and all the elements) and there’s some Blues, Folk, Soul, Zydeco, Bluegrass, a lil Rock, Gospel and Opera and then some (all genres with Black (Black) American origins). Almost like she opened a new sonic portal while helping to reclaim the genre made by Black Americans.

First off — the album cover art. She pays homage to a long-standing Black American Southern tradition of Houston rodeo and rodeo queens. Carrying our country’s flag…the imagery is signifying to her being a Black American woman. Who she is.

The album cover alone set the tone for what she presented with act ii. [and the photographer is Blair Caldwell, a fellow Black Texan, who has such an eye for capturing beauty. all his photographs are visually pleasing].

[Even the promo - the track list design is a nod & historical reference to Black American culture via The Chitlin Circuit promotional posters. I love it. Made my little graphic art heart smile. The nostalgia of it.]

From the opening track title and lyrics and later on within other songs, she wove her ancestral claiming to America with so much pride. Pride for our country and our flag that we absolutely should have.

Then to have Ms. Linda Martell, the trailblazing Black pioneer & legend in the genre who broke many barriers, be a part of this album was so reverent. (Especially her spoken word throughout that spoke to the way that she and Beyoncé have had to navigate this music industry. When their presence wasn’t well-received, in the very genre we created, they set out to move in a “non-traditional” way). They themselves are the embodiment of unconventional. Ms. Martell rightfully receiving her flowers at the golden age of 82 is harmonious!

Every part of act ii has made people research and discover. The same way act i did. Gotta love a good educational experience through music. (btw—the mention of Zydeco had me hyped).

Having Rhiannon Giddens on instrumentation (along with other background Black musicians and I’m sure Black vocalists) and sharing this musical journey with Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy, Reyna Roberts, Willie Jones and Shaboozey — other young Black women and Black men in the genre…all of this Black fellowship made me so happy.

Just sooo much honoring throughout it all. Lots of love poured into it.

Everything is resonate. Connecting. With purpose.

Her voice, her musicality, the note choices, the lyrics, the song titles and the spelling of them, the arrangements.

It’s fun and beautiful.

It sounds amazing.

A beautiful tribute to her roots.

Bravo Beyoncé!

#Beyoncé #Cowboy Carter #Linda Martell #Tanner Adell #Brittney Spencer #Tiera Kennedy #Reyna Roberts #Willie Jones #Shaboozey #Blair Caldwell #Black music #Black culture #Black American culture #Black American music #country music #go stream Cowboy Carter #go buy Cowboy Carter #and go stream and buy all the artists she featured

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bloatedandalone04 · 4 months

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.1

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which you pack your bags for paris, still unsure of whether or not you’ll return to london for anything other than the rest of your belongings, and anakin is forced to reach out to liz after she crosses another line.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Guilt had followed Anakin all week.

He talked to you for a good hour over the phone on Wednesday, and not once did he mention the fact that Liz had kissed him. He knew the longer he kept it from you, the worse it’ll be for him, but he was terrified of your reaction.

Anakin had been faithful for nearly five years straight, and the one time he’s away from you for more than a few days he lets another girl get close to him. Close enough for him to break that streak in a single night.

He knew that as soon as he told you, it could very well be over, and he never wanted to lose you, let alone because of something so out of character for him.

Still, it wasn’t fair for you to be kept out of the loop, and though he hated to do it, he’d rather tell you in person. He could only hope that you saw it from his perspective, and how hard he’s been trying to get rid of her.

Anakin was sitting on the couch, the passing scenery doing wonders at keeping his mind busy. He wanted to call you, but you told him that you needed to sort some things out today, and he’d just have to wait until you were able to talk.

He had headphones on with the track Vinny and Theo had recorded during all the time Anakin spent with Liz, and he felt like the worst excuse of a friend and band member ever.

They were actually trying to get music out while he just went out and partied. But he wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

If one good thing came out of that whole club situation and the wake up call, it was that Anakin was finally inspired to write. Theo had come up with the idea to create a slower song rather than the loud and intense songs they’ve been playing for the last year and a half. He was sure it was because the bass player was feeling down a lot lately and needed a way to vent, and Anakin and Vinny were more than willing to agree to it.

He listened to the track on repeat as he thought about possible lyrics, and Anakin was happy that Vinny had decided to try his luck with a piano. He played it for about four years before he switched to drums, but he clearly still knew how to play the string instrument as it sounded amazing through his headphones.

Before long, he had a whole page done and was starting his second when Vinny emerged from the back of the bus. His hair was a mess, signaling to Anakin that he had just woken up from a nap.

Anakin could probably use a few more hours of sleep, too, but he knew it would never come. He’d just end up tossing and turning and wasting time, so he didn’t even bother.

Vinny sat down next to him with a huff, taking the notebook out of Anakin’s hands as he did so. Anakin scoffed at him, taking off his headphones and setting them aside as he turned to face his friend. “Is this for a new song?” Vinny asked with a yawn as he read over the page.

“Yeah,” Anakin answered, grabbing his phone and sending you a quick text.

Vinny set the notebook aside after reading it over. “Sounds good,” he mumbled. “Glad to see you got your inspiration back.”

“Yeah, but at what cost,” Anakin muttered.

“Anakin, Y/n will understand,” he tried to reassure him, but probably knew that it was pointless as Anakin would continue to feel like shit until he knew for sure that he wouldn’t lose you because of the mistake he made with Liz.

So when he didn’t respond, Vinny just shook his head and stood back up. He rummaged around in the mini fridge before grabbing two water bottles and heading back to Clara, leaving Anakin to finish up the song he had titled ‘Falling’.

“I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time,” you confessed as you sat on the grass in the Quad. “I completely messed up that last assignment. I didn’t even try.”

Evan gave you a pointed look as he sipped from the straw of his smoothie. “You’re not wasting everyone’s time, Y/n,” he stated, making you roll your eyes. “I’m serious. Kenneth would’ve sent you running on the first day if he thought you were wasting his time.”

You shrug and look at different flights on your phone. “Maybe, but I still accused him of favoring me when he was literally just trying to be nice,”

“Y/n,” Evan called out to you, making you look up. “You’re a good writer. You’re one of the best in the class, don’t think that you’re not. One bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, you know that.”

You shrug again, sipping on your own smoothie. “Yeah, I guess,”

Evan set down his drink and moved closer to you. “I mean it. You’re going places…if you decide to stay, that is. While it’ll certainly give me a better chance at getting published, it’ll still suck to lose you. But if you’re no longer happy here, then you deserve to do something that does make you happy.”

You give him a smile and lean over to hug him quickly. “Thanks, Ev,”

He returned the hug before standing up. “Are you coming to class today?”

You think about it for a few seconds then shake your head. “No, I have some thinking to do,”

He nods and gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay, I’ll just see you later then,”

You nod back and watch as he makes his way to the building the class is in before pulling out your phone.

Ani: I hope you’re having a better day today, baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you.

The text brings a smile to your lips as you stand up and throw away your garbage as you reply to him.

So far so good. I can’t wait to see you, too, Ani. I love YOU.

You head in the opposite direction of your class, planning on going back to your room and packing your bag for Paris. Maybe you’d even start packing up to go back home. While Evan’s attempts at reassuring you were nice, you still didn’t feel confident in yourself anymore.

Anakin had even tried to reassure you, but he also said that you didn’t have to force yourself to stay if it wasn’t what you wanted anymore, and to have that support from him had your head feeling clearer than it had in weeks.

If all else failed, you still always had him, and that was enough for you to know that you’d be okay.

You pack the essentials and set your bag down next to your desk before sitting down on your bed. Grabbing your phone, you begin to look through more flight options. There was one for three in the afternoon, meaning you’d be able to be in Paris by five thirty at the latest. You’d have to swing by class tomorrow to talk to Kenneth, and to possibly say goodbye to him.

You really weren’t sure if you were going to come back for anything other than the rest of your belongings once Anakin and the guys leave France and you’d have to say goodbye again. Maybe you could just pack the rest of your things and meet him at the next location. You wouldn’t mind sharing that small bunk with him for the next two months, and you knew he wouldn’t mind either.

Without another thought, you buy the ticket and set your phone down, pulling out your laptop and continuing to write the rough draft of your short story, despite your plans potentially dropping the class.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and before you knew it, it was the next morning and you were packing last minute things and making sure you had your ticket ready. You set everything on your bed, excitement pulsing through you at the fact that you’d be seeing Anakin in less than nine hours.

His text had you feeling the happiest you’ve been all week, and you had shamelessly read it more than once.

Ani: I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve missed you so much, princess.

He was the sweetest, and you were shaking with nerves at the thought of feeling his arms around you again after four weeks of zero physical contact.

You leave your dorm and make your way to class, well aware that it had ended at nine and it was now nearing ten. With a quick inhale, you enter the classroom and meet Kenneth’s eyes from across the room. He was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed as he looked back down at the papers he was reading. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Glad to see you could make it to class today, though you are an hour late and the class is already over.”

Giving him a forced and embarrassed smile, you step into the room. “Yeah,” you trail off, playing with your fingers as you stand by the door. “I’m sorry I missed the last two classes, it’s just….I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

Kenneth didn’t look up from the papers as he said, “Well, you’ve certainly done a great job at trying to prove that,”

Your face heats up and you look at the floor. “Yeah…I’m really sorry, Kenneth,” you murmur, glancing down at the A on your wrist. You feel the smallest bit of comfort from just looking at it, and you lift your head with a newfound confidence. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. That was the last thing I wanted to do.”

That had your instructor looking up at you. He studied your face for a few seconds before sitting up in his chair. “You didn’t waste my time, Miss Y/l/n,” he stated. “In fact, I quite enjoyed reading your previous pieces, so I don’t know why you think you wasted anyone’s time.”

You shrug at him and avoid eye contact. You just needed to get through this, then you could go to the airport and be with Anakin again after a month of not seeing him.

“I assume you came here to tell me that you’re dropping out?” Kenneth asks and you look over at him.

“Do you think I should?” You ask.

“That’s not up to me,” he says. “It’s your choice.”

You huff, “Do you think I’m…..good enough?”

Kenneth raises his brows. “Do I think you’re good enough?” He repeated your question and leaned back. “I think you’re a great writer, Miss Y/l/n, and it would be unfortunate to lose you before I got to really see what you can do. But, it’s your decision, and I can’t make it for you.”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Right. I guess that’s a good answer,”

He returns the smile before asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m….my boyfriend is performing at a few venues in Paris, so I’m going to meet him there,” you tell him. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be missing a few classes next week.”

Kenneth nods. “It might be best for you to take some time to figure out what you want to do,” he says. “If you decide to stay, there’s always a spot for you in my class, but if you want to go then I can’t stop you. But just know that one bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, and you shouldn’t let it have that much control over you.”

Your smile fades a bit at how similar his and Evan’s words are. Maybe they were right. “I’m trying,”

He shrugged, “That’s all you can do,”

A few seconds pass before you nod. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to be rushing to the airport,”

“Before you go,” he called out to you just as you began to turn around. “I want you to know that, whatever you decide to do, I support you.”

That had a genuine smile forming on your lips. “Thank you, Kenneth, and I’m sorry for…everything,”

Then you were off. You headed back to your room to grab your bag, finding Evan leaning against the wall next to your door. Your look of surprise had him raising his brows, “What, you thought I was gonna let you leave without saying goodbye to me first? Especially since I might never see you again after this?”

You laugh and walk into his open arms. “I haven’t decided if I’m dropping the class or not, Ev,” you say and rest your head against his chest. “And I’d say goodbye to you before I left, anyway.”

“How generous,” he teased and pulled away. His eyes flickered all over your face before he met your gaze. “Have fun, okay? Go spend time with your famous boyfriend, and don’t worry about anything else, alright? You deserve it.”

You smile and nod, “Okay,” you agree. “I’ll see you next week, Evan. Promise.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “You better,” he said back, giving you another smile before leaving. You grab your bag and look around your room one last time before setting down the note you had written to Bailey. She was still at her parents house since there was some family emergency, and you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to her.

You leave it on her bed before locking the door and ordering a ride to the airport, the stress of everything finally beginning to lift once you’re seated on the plane.

Anakin could not stop pacing the length of the small hallway on the bus.

He was shaking, he was so excited to see you.

He couldn’t think about much else other than your sweet scent, your kind smile, your achingly pretty face, and the way your body fit perfectly against his own. He was craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe he had gone a month without you.

Vinny was watching him with a tired expression, his arm draped over Clara’s shoulders as she slept next to him on the couch. “Dude,” he grunted after watching him pace a few more times. “What are you doing? Why are you pacing?”

Anakin flexed his fingers as he shrugged, passing by the brunet once again. “I can’t help it,” he answered. “I have to leave in less than half an hour to pick her up and bring her back here. Half an hour, Vin, then she’s here.”

Vinny let out a laugh of disbelief, glancing down at his sleeping girlfriend. “I hope she’s this excited to see me at some point in the future,” he muttered to himself as Anakin tried to calm himself down.

“I missed her so much, Vin,”

“I know,”

“I can’t wait to see her,”

“I know, Anakin,”

“Please tell me that you and Clara are doing something tonight,” Anakin was powerless to stop the desperation from coming through in his voice.

Vinny smirked up at him, “Is that your way of asking if the bus will be empty tonight?”

“I need to be alone with her,” Anakin groaned. “I need it to be just the two of us, so we can talk. I need to clear a few things up with her.”

Vinny laughed. “I understand, man,” he said. “I’ll take Clara out for dinner or something and we’ll tour the Paris nightlife.”

Anakin gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” then he checked his phone and nearly dropped it when he saw Liz’s newest Instagram post. “Fuck.”

It was a close up picture of Anakin on stage a couple nights ago, his hair damp and his skin sweaty as he finished the last song of the set. He remembered feeling the high of that night, and he would’ve been happy to see that Liz had captured a photo of it, but right now all he felt was rage as he read the caption.

elizaphotography: Thought you’d all enjoy a hot, up close and personal shot of the sexy lead singer of Screaming Whispers ;)

She added a bunch of stupid hashtags and even tagged him, and Anakin wanted to throw his phone at the nearest wall. Vinny must’ve sensed the sudden change as he sat up a bit and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“She- I can’t fucking believe her,”

Vinny reached forward and grabbed his phone, his gaze hardening once he saw the post. “Wow, this bitch won’t quit,” he muttered, reading the caption over and over again. “She must think she’s invincible or some shit, because- what are you doing?”

Anakin had swiped his phone out of Vinny’s hand and clicked on Liz’s contact as he left the bus, hoping that the air would cool him off at least a little. It rang for a few seconds before the call connected, “Ah, I knew that would get your attention,”

“Back off, Liz,” Anakin rasped, leaning against the side of the bus as he felt his heartbeat quicken. “I mean it.”

“You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, Anakin,” she stated. “You’re acting like a prick. I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong,” he said and tried to take back control of his breathing. “Change that caption, or better yet, delete the entire fucking post.”

Liz hummed, “Thought I was allowed to post you? In fact, it’s on the contract that I get your image out there for the world to see,” she laughed. “Well, it says something like that, anyway.”

“I’m not joking, Liz,” he muttered under his breath, and her annoying voice had his body heating up in rage.

“I’m not joking either, Anakin,” she said back. “You led me on. I can claim that. Don’t piss me off, Anakin, or I’ll tell Y/n myself that you cheated on her.”

“I didn’t-”

“But you did,” she cut him off. “I’m living proof.”

“What do you want, Liz? Huh?” Anakin asked in frustration as he tugged on his hair. “Why do you insist on being such a-”

“A what, Anakin? What?” She pressed. “Call me anything other than my name, and I’ll message her right now.”

Anakin bit his tongue, holding back on calling her every bad name he could think of, because it really wouldn’t help much at all. “Keep her out of this,” he said as calmly as he could. He didn’t like her holding you over him like this when she had no fucking clue about anything involving yours and his relationship. She was just the fucking tour photographer, why did she think she had such an important role in his life?

“Yeah,” she hummed. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

Then she hung up and Anakin cursed under his breath as he opened the Instagram app. He deleted all the photos she took of him from his account, wanting nothing to do with her at all anymore. Sure, the photos were great and he actually liked them quite a lot, but he refused to be associated with her in any way.

Before he got off the app, he clicked on Liz’s account and saw that she did actually change the caption, but it still didn’t settle the anger brewing within him. Without a second thought, he blocked her and pocketed his phone after calling a ride that would take him to the airport and to you.

They reunite soon :') (but is that a good thing?)

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

I was just re reading the musician eren and model/influencer reader and wanted to know if you were still doing their story or a part 2?

omg idk how long ago this was sent to me but I’m def still working on the story. but since I’m obsessed with this hc all over again, I’m spinning the block on it.

musician Eren with his black influencer wife imagines pt. 1 (how they first met)

cw: fluff mostly, kissing and mentions of alcohol, weed and implied sexual themes

Eren was definitely considered a loner when it came to being in the music industry. Despite having been in it since he was a teen. He was no stranger to the fangirling or the sexualizing and when he was younger, he thought it was funny but now, it annoyed the hell out of him.

because of this, he’d leave his loyal fanbase waiting for months or a year on a new project.

his ass definitely doesn’t use social media like that and when he does, he’s either speaking in riddles or lying for fucking sport just to see people scramble.

regardless of that, he was not only one of the world’s most popular but well versed artists as well. gifted with the ability to sing, rap, play instruments, write and produce..a generational talent for sure.

to him, music was his only love for the longest. he wasn’t interested in dating another pop star or hooking up with random models so the blogs could go tell his business.

that was until he met you..the new age celebrity and the woman who’d change his life!

having being forced into unwillingly doing a club appearance by his agent Mikasa, who’s used to dealing with his annoying, shut-in attitude, tells him he has no other choice or the label will boot his ass out for certain. She also tells him he’ll be co-hosting with you so to be on his best behavior.

he’s a little on the fence because he doesn’t see why you need to be there and how you’d draw out a crowd.

of course, his perception changed when he laid eyes on you for the first time. Instagram photos didn’t do you justice. You were a special type of fine with the prettiest dark skin and a body that most of these girls paid for (but he was shocked to find yours was all natural.)

“….I can’t believe I’m getting to meet THE Eren Jaeger in the flesh. It’s an honor..I’m a huge fan.” Naturally, he thinks you’re just being nice and doesn’t really pay it much attention but as the night goes on, he realizes that you were right.

he performs a couple of songs, both recent and old; ones only his true fans would remember and he’s shocked to look over and see that you not only know every word but we’re shouting the lyrics to the top of your lungs like a fangirl. (and even throwing ass on him couple of his raps, which made him almost forget his own words for a second!)

he’s in disbelief that this beautiful woman, who he figured to be just another industry plant fucks with him this heavily. He didn’t even realize he was still so popular or that you’d even like his music.”

when you get on the mic and not only blow him a kiss but give him his flowers as well, he’s so happy and flattered. Especially when the crowd does the same.

that only becomes more so when the two of you spend the rest of your night, chopping it up in the rented section. you tell him how you’d been a dancer first and then transitioned into a model.

he realized that you both had a lot in common when it came to your stances on the music game. You too preferred to stay out the way and baby, was this man SMITTEN. from your sweet little voice to the way you looked at him, he hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

he’s laughing at your jokes and you’re doing the same. You both spot a fan in the crowd, taking pictures and ready to run to the internet with them so like the troll he is, he pretends to kiss you, running a hand up your thigh and plays up the moment. “Let’s give their asses something to tweet about…”

this man starts spitting game too and you can’t believe this is real. you don’t stop him either because this man was so fine and one of your few celebrity crushes.

when he realizes that you’ve done your performances and things are getting heavy between y’all, he’s ready to dip but hoping you’ll tag along so he shoots his shot. He was sick of all his friends clowning him for not being with a girl in nearly two years.

“..it’s getting kinda crowded so I’m ‘bout to head out. What you getting into once you leave? I’d love to keep this conversation going.” nervous as hell when he asks but you’d never know it. Because he’s damn near smooth talked you up outta your clothes (courtesy of. the liquid courage and the weed he smoked).

honestly, it’s not a question and when the two of you ducked off to the back corner of the club, away from prying eyes..you give him your answer.

“I’m with whatever..you just lead the way.” and best believe, the night is only beginning…

#black fem reader #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #aot x black reader #fanfic #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger x black reader #musician au #attack on titan eren #attack on titan #chrollohearttags #eren fanfiction #eren cafe <3 #eren x you #black reader #thick black women #thick reader #aot fanfiction

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annoyinglandmagazine · 1 year

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Russingon Headcanon

Maedhros and Fingon’s relationship reads like a romance right? Regardless of whether you ship it their entire relationship is compromised of several romance plot lines rolled into one and is a textbook example of a romance. You have the families who hate each other keeping them apart, the opposite sides of the war thing, the hopeless quest to save their beloved from the enemy at all costs, succeeding against all odds because of the power of love and just so much more. You see where I’m going with all this right? It reads like the script to a Disney film.

So if someone with no prior knowledge of who these two people are were to hear this story they’d probably think it was a similar kind of story to Beren and Luthien. They wouldn’t really question that this was a romance. So what I’m saying is that there were probably men and dwarves who were told this story and heard it was an old elven story and interpreted it exactly like that. So I’d say it’s a reasonable assumption that at some point songs and stories started to crop up and became pretty popular ballads. I’d also say a lot of the time Maedhros was depicted as the damsel in distress. Make of that what you will.

So when the elves hear these songs they’d probably see these similarities right away. I feel like Turgon would get to the point where he’d have to screen all the songs played in his court beforehand to make sure there was no trace of his older brother in a romantic context even implied because it makes him so uncomfortable. He gets really flustered when anyone brings it up because YES he knows it’s common knowledge but he was trying very hard to recover from the image of walking in on them during his childhood and does not appreciate the reminder . Maglor would absolutely love it. He makes a point of playing the instrumentals of the more well known ones at formal events just to watch Maedhros turn gradually more red. He also sometimes changes the lyrics to contain as many innuendoes as possible and stresses their names in the ones where they’re mentioned. He’s the only person who’s ever dared to play one in the presence of both Maedhros and Fingon. He changes the music to one of the ballads every time they get too close to each other during the evening and everyone always turns to look for them when it comes on so they have to scramble to a respectable distance.

Celegorm and Curufin are absolutely in on this and Tyelko helps come up with some of the dirtier verses. Everyone collectively agrees to preserve the innocence of Amrod and Amras. Finrod is secretly teaching the men more and more romantic ones but escapes all the blame. He’s actually the person who introduced most of the ones with their names in them.

Maglor teaches Elrond and Elros all of them without telling them who they’re about. Maedhros is absolutely murderous when he hears the twins singing about him and Fingon but he doesn’t want to let the twins know the truth so he keeps his mouth shut. Many elves are absolutely horrified when they hear that these are an important part of Numenorean culture. He made Quenya one of their languages don’t tell me Elros wouldn’t find this hilarious. Imladris is one of the few elvish settlements where these songs are allowed because Elrond secretly enjoys stirring things up. He figured out what they were about when he was still a kid but he finds everyone’s expressions way too funny to call a stop to it and just plays innocent.

#russingon #maedhros x fingon #maedhros #fingon #maglor #elrond peredhel #elros tar minyatur #headcanons #silmarillion

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silentglassbreak · 3 months

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Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Alright, back to our regularly scheduled programming. Thank you all for being patient with me. We need to develop this plot, so let's all buckle up.

Warnings: Nothing wild here. Testosterone being tossed around.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @xx-like-a-villian-xx @diabolicdiatonics

Part 9 - First Time

One Month Later

Normal is a relative term, isn’t it? By definition, it means conforming to a standard. Therefore, my life was getting into a sense of normalcy, as I was forcing it to.

I couldn’t handle the heartbreak anymore. It was too painful to allow myself to continue to sulk. Every time she left, anytime we said goodbye, my soul folded in on itself more and more. Is it going to stop hurting just because I want it to? No. Can I allow myself to move on? I think so.

One hundred and eighteen days since she ended things. My world fell apart, but I only have to wait so long before I start trying to put it back together. I’m encouraged to move forward. I’m told to let myself heal. And I think maybe it’s time.

Thirty-six days since Mileena and I recovered from the stomach flu, and our safe bubble was burst. We haven’t kissed, fucked, or had any above mildly flirtatious contact since.

We’re still close, and we still talk every day - sometimes for hours, but I’ve put up a silent barrier between us. Continuing to allow the physical affection was only making it harder for both of us. And I’ve learned, through months of dealing with this, that she has little to no control.

She’s still seeing Justin, which stings in ways I can’t even begin to explain, but I’ve swallowed it. Leena seems to have taken to him, which makes me happy. Although I never expected to feel that way, I do. Seeing her smile, and seeing her joy has brought a sense of calm to my soul, even if I’m not the person lighting that fire inside her.

Maybe I’m moving on.

Today, I was awake early, driving to the guys’ place, anxious and excited all at once.

Today was album completion day. After hours on hours of sitting with Jolly in the studio, rewriting lyrics, re-recording vocals, and reworking the instrumentals, it was finally ready.

Today, at 9AM, the album was due to Sumerian. We were going to send it at 8AM, the email already drafted and all of the files attached. It was a big moment, and we were ecstatic. The amount of work that had gone into this album made Death of Peace of Mind look like child’s play. We were all so ready to be moving to the next stage - preparing for release.

I pulled into the driveway, and noticed the amount of vehicles. I, clearly, wasn’t the only one there.

Just inside the front door, I kicked my boots off and made my way toward the living room, already hearing many conversations ongoing. Just inside the foyer, I could see Nick and Laura, enthralled in whatever conversation they were having. Jolly was sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop, surely checking the email again to make sure all of the attachments were sound, and nothing had been forgotten.

In the back corner of the room, Folio stood by the fireplace, mid-conversation with Leena, who was holding Addison on her hip.

“Well, hello family!”

Everyone’s eyes flashed to me, smiles breaking out on everyone’s faces.

“There he is!” Nick walked over and clapped my shoulder. “Cant believe you’re the last one here!”

I shook my head. “Traffic was rough this morning.”

I gave him and Laura welcoming hugs, and made my way over to Leena and Addison.

“There’s my girls.” I gave Mileena a one-armed hug, and took Addie from her, squeezing her tight.

“Are you excited?” Leena was beaming at me, something like pride on her face.

“Excited and anxious. I’ll be glad once it’s out of our hands.”

Folio snorted next to me. “Yeah, so you can’t fuck with it anymore.”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “It’s not fucking with it. It’s perfecting.”

He reached over, slipping Addie from my arms. “Well, go check on Jolly. He hasn’t spoken in twenty minutes.”

I padded over to the couch and flopped down. “All good here?”

He nodded, reopening the email. “I think so. Everything’s working. Cover art and back art is there. Lyric docs are attached. I think we’re all set. Bryan is going to forward in the pictures for the social media announcements. And Matt’s working on the details for the release party already.”

I nodded. “We don’t know how long?”

Jolly shrugged. “Three months, maybe? Slaughter is releasing their album next month, but then Alec told me it’s pretty clear until November. We’re likely shooting for a fall release.”

“Oh sweet. We can start touring in spring, maybe?”

Jolly smiled and leaned back. “I fucking hope so man. We’ve been getting a lot of heat for not hitting Australia on the last tour. Or Asia.”

“Maybe we start there?”

I could feel eyes burning into the side of my head, Mileena standing close enough to hear our conversation, but I ignored them.

“Festival season is in the spring and summer, so maybe we start with that? And work our way out?”

I huffed, and let my eyes drift over to Leena, who had a sad expression on her face that she wasn’t hiding well. “We’ll let Matt and Lana work it out.”

“Two minutes, guys.” Nick called from across the coffee table.

Folio came and plopped next to me. Nick sat next to Jolly, Laura perched on one of his knees. Leena sat, Addie in her lap, on the arm of the couch.

Jolly’s finger hovered over the ‘Send’ button, and we all held our breath.

“As always, I would like to just say, you guys are the best. We have worked our asses off for this, and if we receive even half of the success as Death of Peace of Mind, we’re lucky. We’re lucky to do what we love, and do it well.” I spoke to the entire room. To my brothers.

“Let’s fucking do this!” Folio announced, and the clock struck 8:30, Jolly clicking the mouse.

A second of silence fell over us, until the confirmation that it was sent popped on the screen.

We all broke out in celebratory hollers and clapping.

“Fuck yeah! We fucking did it!” Nick exclaimed, patting Jolly’s shoulder.

“You guys are awesome, you know that?” Laura smiled at us all.

“We need to celebrate!” Folio stood up suddenly, all of our eyes snapping up to him. “Let’s call Matt, Bryan, Lana, and Davis, and let’s go fucking celebrate!”

“Uh, dude…it’s not even 9AM…” I was smirking at him.

“It doesn’t have to be a party.” He stopped, thinking for a moment. “Let’s go ride fucking roller coasters!”

Nick, Jolly, and myself all stood up, affirming our excitement at once.

“That’s fucking awesome! Let’s do it!” Nick was still holding onto Laura. “You’ll come?”

She smiled wide. “Blocked my whole day for you, babe. I’m down.”

Nick glanced at Leena. “You too?”

She seemed to hesitate, her eyes looking over to me. “I, uh, might need to pass.” She chewed her lip. “Addie and I had plans today.”

“So…cancel them?” Jolly interjected.

“We were supposed to meet with Justin.”

I scoffed. “So bring him?” Her eyes widened in surprise at me. Valid, given I was mildly surprised at myself as well. “Unless, of course, he’s too scared…”

The drive to Knott's Berry Farm was quicker than I expected. Folio and I rode in my truck with Addison, Nick and Laura were in her car, Bryan and Matt were picking up Davis and Lana, and Mileena would be meeting us in about an hour after she picked up Justin. As we turned right off of La Palma onto Beach Boulevard, the traffic came to a dead stop. The turn-in to Knott's toward the parking lot was packed.

"Is something going on today?"

I shrugged. "No idea. We got here early, so I didn't think it would be too packed for a Thursday." I glanced at the dash. "It's only noon."

He rolled his window down, leaning his body out of the window, and waving at a security guard who was directing traffic.

"Hey," The guard walked over to my car. "is there a reason it's so busy?"

The guard stood with his hands on his belt, and glanced down to the line of cars.

"The concert today. It doesn't start until 6, but folks want to get in early."

Folio raised an eyebrow, dropping back into the vehicle. "Concert?" He pulled his phone out and opened his browser. After a moment of searching, he smiled. "Oh dope, dude! There's three bands playing today!"

I was pulling toward the parking lot now, waiting for my turn to pay at the stall. "Which ones?"

"Skillet, Daughtry, and Lifehouse."

I nodded in surprise. "That's fucking cool, man. We picked a good day to come."

Once we had all parked, I was pushing the stroller with Addison squealing excitedly. We all talked about which rides we were hitting first.

"Dude, we can't just start with the biggest ones. We've got to warm up." Nick was trying to reason with Folio, who looked as though he was crawling right out of his skin.

"Bro, I am riding the Xcelerator first, and you can't fucking stop me."

I chuckled. "I'm so in on that, man."

Laura reached for the stroller, taking it from me easily. "That's fine. You and Folio go get your adrenaline rush. Addie and I will be waiting for Leena in Camp Snoopy."

I bent down to kiss Addie's nose as she munched on her cotton candy, making an absolute mess. "You be good for Auntie, baby girl."

She blew a bubble in response.

Folio and I practically sprinted to the line for the roller coaster, only being a few dozen people back. He immediately hopped up onto the railing, smiling wide.

"So excited. I haven't been here since I was a kid."

I nodded. "Leena and I came like...three months after we met? She likes to act like she loves roller coasters, but in reality, she only rides the mellow ones."

He giggled. "She always talks such a big game, dude."

"Fucking honestly. She's as human as the rest of us, contrary to popular belief."

He nodded, jumping down to move with the line. "You going to be good with her bringing Justin?"

I perused this a moment. "I think so. I've had some time to adjust."

He looked at me suspiciously. "Have you been adjusting? You and Leena seem to be pretty...I don't know...weird?"

Leaning against the rail, I crossed my arms and looked at him. "Weird like how?"

"Well, let's see," Folio turned to face his body toward me. "you break up, when clearly neither of you wanted to do that. You both get majorly depressed for a while. Then you have an outburst at the 4th party, where you both disappear for half an hour." He raised his eyebrow suspiciously. "Then you flirt all the time, and both get sick at the same time, hiding out for three days together, where neither of you will talk about what happened." I chewed on my bottom lip. "Now you guys just stare longingly at each other from across rooms, and act like everything's okay." We moved forward with the line.

"Oh, and not to mention that she has a boyfriend."

Thanks for that, Folio.

"Doesn't seem very adjusted."

I scoffed. "Well, I didn't realize I came today to get attacked, but alright."

He chuckled at me, smacking my shoulder. "I'm just asking. I'm not sure any of us really get why you two aren't just...together...."

I shrugged, then. "That was her decision."

He cocked his head. "But why?"

I sighed hard, arms still crossed. "She can't handle it, dude. The," I waved my hand around us. "Bad Omens, rock and roll, touring thing."

Folio looked interested. "No?"

Shaking my head, I noticed we were getting closer to the front. "Nope. And that's my life."

"Can't her and Addison come on tour?"

"Man, I wish. I've even tried to convince her too, but having a toddler on a tour bus wouldn't work, and even I know that."

He looked disappointed. "Fuck, man."

"Yeah, I know." Huffing out a weak laugh, I rubbed the back of my neck. "I even offered to quit. Just write and produce so I wouldn't have to tour."

"You couldn't do that, dude. You love this shit."

I nodded, and looked directly at him. "I know, but I love them more."

Folio and I were walking over to Camp Snoopy, where everyone had convened after riding their respective rides. I caught a glimpse of Mileena sat at a picnic table, surrounded by everyone, feeding Addison in the stroller. Before I even reached the group, I noticed it.

Everyone was speaking, laughing together. Justin was stood talking to Davis, talking about something with his hands, and Davis was definitely into the story. The entire group was engaged in some form of conversation, looking excited and lighthearted. Everyone, except Mileena.

She was handing Addison her snacks, back turned to the group, and a look of frustration on her face.

We approached them, everyone turning their attention to us.

"How was it?" Nick chirped up from behind Laura.

"Fucking rush. So much fun." Folio responded, coming to sit next to Leena, and grabbing the snacks from her. Leena smiled at him as he started talking to Addie, handing her the puffs from the bag. If anyone bonded with the baby the most, to everyone's surprise, it was Folio.

I stepped over to stand in front of Leena, staring down at her. I lowered my eyes so I was looking directly at her. I gave her the look; the one that she knew asked if she was alright. She just pursed her lips, and nodded curtly.

I glanced back over to where Justin was still talking to Davis, Jolly now having joined the conversation.

I smiled down at Leena. "Want to come with me to grab a soda?"

Her eyes drifted over to Justin, who was paying her no mind, and stood up.

"You okay with her for a minute?" Folio just nodded to her in response.

She followed behind me as I made my way toward the Calico Ghost Town, and the snack shops they had nearby. We joined the long line, and I turned to look at her.

"What's going on?"

She sighed. "Nothing, just wanted to be here a lot sooner."

"Everything okay with you two?"

She looked at me, her eyes hesitant, but I could see that she wanted to tell me.

I held my hands up. "Safe space, here."

Leaning her head back, she groaned. "He's irritating me."

"How so?"

"He's pissed that I wanted to come here. We had plans to get lunch, and take Addie to the park. I explained that today was a big deal, but he told me he didn't see why I had to come."

I raised an eyebrow. "Ah, okay. Makes sense."

"No, it doesn't. He knows that I'm close with all of the guys, not just you. But he still gets so fucking weird about it." Her voice was full of annoyance, which amused me.

"I mean..." I calculated my words. "Can you blame the guy?"

Her head snapped toward me. "What?"

Laughing, I took a step away from her. "Leena, I am your ex. We spend an awful lot of time together."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "We have a kid together, Noah."

I nodded. "I get that. I'm just saying, he probably has pretty good reason to be skeptical."

She huffed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know. I just," Taking a slow breath, she calmed herself. "if him and I are going to make it work, he's going to have to understand. You guys are my family."

I let my arms reach for her, pulling her into a comfortable hug. "I know. And if he really likes you, he'll figure it out."

The day passed comfortably, the warm sun baking us while we waited in lines, played games, and ate funnel cakes. Mileena passed on the bigger coasters, as I had expected. Laura and I rode the Jaguar six times in a row, nearly toppling over from lightheadedness after the last ride.

Justin and I didn't speak much, only in passing comments and niceties. It was easier that way.

By 5PM, we started to see the signs go up for the concert, so we decided to head over to the stage area, tucked behind the Ghost Rider, in an attempt to get decent seats. We found a table big enough for everyone - with the exception of Matt and Lana, who insisted they be at the front - and got comfortable.

Addison had been sleeping for about an hour, and I had pulled her from the stroller, cradling her to my chest against my sweatshirt, so I could try and shield her ears some from the music. I stood at the end of the table, swaying her back and forth, Mileena sitting next to where I stood, chatting idly with Laura about the day.

I felt a bump to my elbow, and looked to my right, seeing Justin standing next to me, large beer in his hand.

I nodded toward him. "What's up, man?"

My hand was rubbing circles on Addison's back, my knees bouncing gently.

"Could I borrow you for a minute?"

Looking at him curiously, I tried to gauge his intentions. I had kept a good enough distance from Leena for the day, in an attempt to not stir any drama.

"Uh, one sec." I turned, motioning with my chin for Folio to come over. "Can you take her for a minute?"

He just peeled her off of me, repositioning her on his chest. This caught Mileena's attention, who had a concerned look on her face as I began following Justin to where he stood a few feet away. I flashed her a small smile for reassurance.

The opening riffs to Skillet's first song caught my attention for a split second before I turned my attention back to Justin.

"What's going on?"

He took a long pull from his beer, and I noted that it wasn't the first he had that night. "I just wanted to chat with you. Hadn't had much chance to talk today." He snorted then. "Or...ever, really."

I laughed, putting my hands in my sweater pocket. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Congrats on finishing the album, man."

I nodded. "Thank you, I appreciate that."

We both looked over to the stage, taking a second to listen to the song. Comatose. A good one.

"So, can I ask you something? Man to man?"

I turned back to look at him, shrugging. "Go for it."

"Are you fucking Mileena?"

This caught me wildly off guard, making me lean back on my heels, eyes blown wide.

"Excuse me?"

"Cause you two seem a little more comfortable than typical exes."

My mouth was hanging open, my brain scrambled. "Dude..."

"If you are, I guess it's whatever. We never made anything exclusive." His words didn't match his tone at all, which told me if I didn't give the right answer, he would probably put a fist straight into my mouth.

As tempting as that was...

"No, man, we're not sleeping together." I waved a hand in between us, shaking my head. "We're not like that."

"Anymore." He added on.

"Well," I glanced back at Leena, who was watching the concert from her seat. "clearly. We do have a kid together."

He smiled at me then, his eyes darkening. The look made my stomach turn.

"She's great in bed, isn't she?"

My blood turned to ice, and my spine involuntarily straightened. I may be moving on, but I'm still a human being. I can only tolerate so much, and he was testing my fucking limit.

Before I could respond, he decided to continue. "I can't imagine how you ever let go of that, brother. She's fucking wild."

I ground my teeth together, jaw clicking in the process. My hands were balled into fists at my side.

"Let's not." Was all I could get out.

He scoffed. "Oh come on, it's not like we haven't both been there."

The eyes staring back at me were malicious. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A hot, angry fire lit in my chest, screaming at me to rip this jackass' tongue straight out of his mouth, but I didn't. Instead, I returned his smile with my own, venomous and rage-induced.

"I mean, I guess you have a point." He raised his eyebrows, clearly not expecting my response. "There is a small difference, though."

He took another chug from his cup, wiping his mouth. "What's that?"

I licked my lips, glancing around to ensure no one was around.

"You get to fuck her, right?" He just nodded in response. "She begged me to fuck her."

I watched his smile fall, his eyes squinting and chest puffing out. "Oh yeah?"

I let my shoulders roll back easily. "Yeah. So," I leaned in, making sure he could hear me clearly. "that girl over there, regardless of if she's riding your cock, or any other douchebag's, belongs to me."

I could see his jaw tighten. I turned my body to walk away, leaving him with one last comment.

"And I'll just warn you now," I looked him up and down. "you're just temporary. May want to wrap your head around that."

With that, I walked away. It wasn't my proudest moment, I'll admit, but I didn't care. I held my head high as I walked back to the table, and took my daughter from Folio, bobbing to the music while she slept soundly in my arms.

Mileena and Justin had disappeared shortly after our talk, which didn't surprise me. I didn't see them through the rest of Skillet's set, and Lifehouse was due to come out after the intermission. I had handed Addie to Laura, taking a few minutes to run to the restrooms and grab a pretzel. I waited in line at the snack stand, scrolling through the photos I had taken on my phone that day, when I felt a hard slap come across my left shoulder.

I looked over, seeing a tearful Leena, face red with anger. "What the fuck did you say to him?!"

My eyes panned around, seeing all of the eyes staring at us.

"C'mon." I grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the line, but as soon as we were alone, she squirmed out of my grip.

"Seriously, Noah! What did you say?! He fucking left!"

I rolled my eyes at that. "I didn't say anything he didn't need to hear."

She deadpanned at me. "Which was what?"

Sighing, I adjusted my hat, turning it backwards on my head. "The guy's a dick, Leena. He wanted to talk about how you are in bed with me."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"I just made it clear that wasn't a good idea."

She narrowed her eyes. "He told me you said we were still sleeping together."

I shook my head. "Nope. I actually told him that we weren't."

"Noah, what did you say?"

After several attempts of trying to give her the cliffnotes version, she finally snapped and demanded to know what I said, verbatim.

Once I told her, I thought the big vein in her neck was going to explode all over both of us.

"What the fuck, Noah?!"

I kept my voice even. "I love how you're only mad at me, when he wanted to antagonize me, while also being halfway drunk." I threw my hands up. "On a day that's about my band, to begin with." I smirked, annoyed, and put my hands in my pockets. "Guy's got some fucking balls, I'll give him that."

Leena shook her head. "I am mad at him. But I'm more mad at you."

My face held an amused, bewildered look. "Make it make sense?"

She rolled her eyes. "Noah, you were the one who reasoned that he had a right to be uncomfortable."

"Oh, well let me be clear - I hereby retract that statement. Guy's a douche." I nodded at her to emphasize each word.

She groaned, and rubbed a hand over her face.

"The fuck am I going to do?"

I snorted. "That's on you, dude." She glared at me. "But my two cents? Break it off. He's an ass." And with that, I walked away from her, leaving her to stare after me with an exasperated look on her face.

Lifehouse finished, but my mood was dead. I had no interest in staying for Daughtry. I was so beyond annoyed by this entire situation, that I elected to leave early.

I offered to take Addison, but Mileena assured that she would take her until my regular day. Rather than argue, I just said my goodbyes to everyone, and headed for the entrance of the park.

My irritation grew the further out I got, and was at a full blown rage by the time I reached my truck, my fist landing on the door.

How could she? This muscled-up dirtbag comes in, pisses her off, and then has the audacity to try and talk shop with me, about her, and she's mad at me? Where is the fucking math on that? What did I fucking miss?

I had been so God damn tolerant. So patient. I had taken the mixed fucking signals, the back and forth emotions, the wanting me one second, and treating me like the outlier the next. I had taken it all on the chin. I'd sat there and watched her be in a new relationship, ignoring how painful that is. Moving on before my very eyes.

And all for...what? For going on tour? For leaving her alone? For admitting that I'm a human fucking being and pictured another woman naked? That for a split fucking second, I considered sleeping with her? For which I then beat myself up and felt guilty as fuck afterwards?!

I was done. Done being patient. Done being the bigger person. I got the fucked end of the stick this entire time, and now she's mad at me?

I sped down the highway, no regard for the limit, zooming toward my house so I could be alone. She ruined this day, and I was fucking over it.

It only took me twenty-five minutes before I was pulled up to my gate, noticing a sedan parked on the street outside of it with it's headlights on. This caught my attention, as it was a vehicle I didn't recognize.

I swiped in, and saw the sedan following me through the gate. This had me on guard, my eyes watching my rearview mirror as the car stopped behind my truck. I was too keyed up, willing to fuck up anyone who tried me at this moment.

Jumping out of my struck, I slammed the door behind me and walked toward the vehicle. The driver's door opened, and a small man, slightly hunched over, stepped out. He wore a lanyard around his neck with some form of ID, and held a manila envelope in his hands.

"This is private property." Was all I said before he walked up to me, a kind smile on his face.

"Noah Davis?"

I scrunched my nose. "Who's asking?"

He looked down at his papers and back up to me. "My name is Leonard James. Are you Noah Davis?"

I crossed my arms. "Sebastian."

He adjusted his glasses. "Oh, I apologize sir. I see that here. Noah Sebastian Davis?"

I rolled my eyes. "My government name, sure. Who are you?"

He handed me the envelope, still smiling at me.

"You've been served."

#fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic

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winterwhisperz-blog · 11 months

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Hey hey hey! This is just a part two to complete the Ask for: The Main LI reacting to an mc who serenades/sings them a love song.

These are a bit shorter, with only one style MC since I didn’t want to make it too long :,3 but I hope you still enjoy em!!

How The Li React To An MC Who Serenades/Sings Them A Love Song(P2)

Warnings: probably ooc, a lot of creative liberty, one small nearly suggestive comment—but that’s just imo, mean old ladies ):<

Notes: Gender neutral mc, fluff.

ALR LES GO

Mhin

OKAY OKAY SO, you know that one photo of that guy playing for a bunch of kittens? This is what inspired this.

Early morning light washes down the murky streets of Eridia, you let out a small yawn, rubbing the remaining tiredness from your eyes.

“Do you really do this every patrol?” You ask Mhin, who strides beside you, a basket of food carried in their arms.

You found out about their little secret awhile ago, but this was the first time they allowed you to go with them.

They nod, shifting the basket to get a better grip. “If i don’t feed them, they’d be on their own. And unlike most people in this place, they deserve my help.”

You smile, tapping on the case holding your instrument. “Unlike most people? Does that mean I’m an exemption?”

Mhin pauses, cheeks going a pink that matches the rosy dawn. “I didn’t say that.”

“Aww, I knew you liked me.”

Mhin quickens their pace, leaving you behind in almost comical speed. Laughing, you make sure your instrument is secure before chasing after them.

The street gets more coated in grime as you follow them, until finally you stop at a certain alleyway. Your heart sinks at the sight, the knowledge that so many animals rest in such a place is enough for you to feel a crush of sympathy. Mhin crouches down, setting the basket of food on the street.

You follow their example, making yourself smaller as you gently place down your case, unlatching the lid. Eventually, cats slowly emerge from their spots of shadow, sniffing at Mhin’s offered hand before the hunter reaches inside the basket, gathering the food. They spread it out evenly, giving each cat the same amount.

A few cats dubiously regard you, hissing when you hesitantly reach out a hand. “Give them time, they’ll find you trustworthy once they get comfortable with you being here.” Mhin advises, a slender hand petting a sleek black cat.

You chuckle lightly, “Almost like someone else I know.”

They furrow a brow in confusion for a moment before scoffing, looking away as a paint of pink crosses their cheeks.

As the cats continue to eat, you get out your instrument, finding a clean enough spot to settle as you tune it. Once you play a few notes, a few small heads pop up from their food, curious eyes sticking to the sound.

When you play an actual song, fluffy balls of fur wander near your feet—kittens. You try out the song you’ve been writing—a song for Mhin. It was meant to be a surprise, and for a different occasion—but as you watch Mhin’s face slowly register the lyrics, matching the descriptions to themself, it was worth playing it now.

Also Mhin’s definitely in love with you now. I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t be after watching you play for kittens.

AWWWWWWWW

Okay but can we take this moment to appreciate how cute Mhin is? Like they’re so cool but also so cute and I just GAHHHHHHH

Okay okay okay okay now unto Vere

Vere

Vere—oh vere oh vere. Alright- he’s probably gonna be rlly outta character because he’s so flirty and I don’t know how to even come up with flirts 😭 so UHM

I will try my best, but forgive me if I fail you

(I also took creative liberty here because like—I know he hinted at having ‘shows’ in the game but idk what they actually ARE— and in this you trash one before Vere has to go so you can spend time with him—idk if you could actually do that—but for this snippet, you can)

ALR LES GO

You finally manage to spot Vere in the crowd of the Wet Wick—he’s been coming more often ever since you’ve gotten closer. You can’t keep from feeling utterly smug over it. You’re a little out of breath from your…recent adventure. But it was worth it, you’ve been planning this ‘date’ for ages now. And with Vere’s busy schedule, you had no choice but to er…intervene.

You left no traces that you were the one responsible anyway, you’re fine.

Fixing up your hair and dusting off your clothes, you make your way toward Vere, his ears twitching in your direction—and by the subtle pout to his lips you’re guessing he knew you were arriving before you even entered—and he’s upset. Aww, poor little horny Fox man.

You settle next to where he sits, propping your chin on your palms as you bat your pretty lashes at him. He’s not impressed. “Where have you been?” He whispers harshly, eyes roaming over your figure. Eyes squinting as he then sniffs the air, catching a scent on your clothes. His expression sours, and before he can ask any questions, you leap to your feet.

“Nuh uh uh, questions can be for later. I’ve got something for you—“ you glance around at the tavern, mostly for dramatic effect. “—It’s a secret. Follow me.”

You stride out of the tavern, Vere—hopefully at your tail.

He probably would’ve stayed out of spite, but maybe he knew I was writing this snippet and have to make this short—and out of ooc mercy—he did indeed follow you outside the tavern and out into the winding alleyways.

As you walk, Vere gives you another searching look. “Make this quick, I have a show—“

“What show?” You blink innocently at him, and a small smirk slowly lifts his lips.

He definitely knows that look. “What have you been up to?” Another question, but now in an utterly different tone.

“Oh you know, been there and there. Doing this and that. The point is, don’t you want to know what I got you?”

Vere lifts a finger, tapping on his chin as he lightly hums. “Better be something good. That way I may just forgive you for making me wait so long.”

“Aww, you were waiting for me?”

His eyes darken into a glare and you chuckle. “Sorry, sorry. Here—“ you stop at a shadowed area around a cliffside, where you had set up a table with a one dancing flame on a tall candle, and a jar of bloody red roses that reminded you of Vere’s hair.

He regards the scene with at first, a bit of shock, before his eyes glimmer with amusement. “Ah, is this a date? Or a lovely place for you to relax after you push me off the cliff?”

Snickering, you make your way to the table, gesturing for him to sit. “Do you want to find out?”

Watching you carefully, Vere sits, and you begin the very worth it plan you had been scheming.

Thankfully, you never throw Vere off the cliff—not tonight at least. Instead, you treat him to a lovely dinner, before shocking him for the second time by proceeding to serenade him with a love song you had found was his favorite. (vere has a favorite love song?? In this snippet he does 😇)

He tried to make fun of you, but he has to suck it because you’re TOO DANG good at singing for him to come up with any teases. And now he has you sing for him every night you get to spend together. You sing for him while he brushes his tail, while he does skincare, and while he naps cuddled to your side.

Soft vere headcanon is my favorite <3 even though it’s probably way off.

ALR

Now unto the last— *sniffle sniffle* Kuras 😭 the way I love this man is probably unhealthy

Kuras

You’re in the streets of the Amaryllis district, instrument case open and at your feet while you tune. You’re hoping to somehow make some money with your voice and musical skill, instead of doing something like Soulless hunting—or whatever job you may find hidden in the mysterious city.

It’s a flimsy hope, but it’s worth a shot. You first tried out Lowtown, propping yourself by the closest walls and singing the songs that you already knew were crowd pleasers—long story short…they didn’t please -that- crowd.

So now you’re here, giving it another go. The clouds are deep blue with restrained thunder and rain, making you a little nervous before you remember that’s just how weather is like here. Sometimes the clouds just warned of a storm, without actually following through.

You start with your first song, your voice coming out a tad shakier than preferable, anxiety tickling your throat. But you carry on, lyrics lifting in strength as you get comfortable.

Eyes sometimes glance your way, some offering you a pity pause in their steps before strutting off. Disinterested. Others send you annoyed glares, scoffs that make you feel a sting of irritation.

What are they scoffing at? What, have they not heard music before?

An old woman with smoke crawling around her meaty neck stops in her tracks as her watery gaze falls on you—smiling crudely when you cough, putting an erupt end to your performance. “Take a tip from me dear, people don’t pay to only listen to music here. If you want a good coin in your purse, you’ve got to—“

“My apologies, grandma, but I don’t need your tip—unless you’re planning to put one here.” You bump your instrument case with your shoe.

The old woman’s face instantly scowls, a dark whirl of smoke matching the angry clouds above. “Take your shitty show somewhere else, pigeon, if you know what’s good for you.”

With that, the old woman struts away, coughing in her own smoke.

Definitely more annoyed now, you reach down to slam your case shut. “Sparrow, now pigeon, why does everyone insist on calling me some kind of bird?” Before you can close the case, a slender finger plops a bright golden coin into the center. A wave of warmth grazing your cheeks.

Craning your neck, your eyes meet those of pure shining gold. Kuras is crouched in front of you—while still managing to be tall as frick. His lips lift in a small smile. “I hope you aren’t planning to cancel your show so early.”

You blink, instantly getting back to you feet, leaving the case open. “Kuras! Hi! I…hope you didn’t see that.”

His eyes slide to where the old lady walked off, a displeased frown wandering onto his mouth. “Unfortunately, I did.”

You cringe, fiddling with your instrument. “She might be right. No one’s even really paid me attention—I doubt they’ll offer anything more.”

Kuras lightly shakes his head. “Don’t give up on yourself so easily. Many might not appreciate music on the street…” his eyes find yours again, his smile warming your chest. “But I do. Please, continue.”

Feeling both confident and shy under his gaze, you nod before clearing your throat. As you sing, you find yourself replaying a love song you would only mutter to yourself.

It takes you a while to notice that it has started raining. But not on either of you—instead, gentle rays of light cover your heads. Keeping you warm in the midst of otherwise cold rain.

Oh, and by the way, the old lady got utterly drenched. Hah, take that grandma.

ALR WE HAVE REACHED THE END!!

Ty again for the person who asked for this, I had a lot of fun 😭 and I hope you did too! Ty for reading!!

I hope you have an amazing night/day, win at a card game, find the perfect video to watch while you eat, and love yourself 🫶

#virtual novel #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved headcanons #touchstarved game #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved vere #touchstarved kuras #thanks for the ask!#answered asks #WOOO

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ourshadowstallerthanoursoul · 4 months

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Getting the led out - interview to JPJ

(by Gail Worley, Ink19 - April 26, 2002 - x)

This has to be THE interview. It's Jonesy's best interview I've found so far, so READ IT. You won't regret a single second spent reading it, I promise you.

I saw the interview you did with Jim DeRogatis at South By Southwest in 2000. In that interview you said – perhaps jokingly – that one of the reasons it took you so long to make your first solo album is that you don’t sing. 'The Thunderthief' has your first recorded vocals ever. Was singing on a record with no previous experience a scary thing for you?

Yes. I mean, I had to make sure I could sing well enough to put [the performance] on record, so it wasn’t totally scary, you know what I mean? I sort of crept up on it [laughs]. The scary thing was actually doing it live on stage the first night, in Nashville (when Jones opened for King Crimson on their last tour). That was scary. What I wanted to do was do three songs from 'Thunderthief'. We started with 'Leafy Meadows' and then I did 'Hoediddle' and then I did 'Freedom Song' – which is scary enough. However, I suddenly thought, "I can’t just sing one song" (two of these three songs are instrumentals). So I thought, I need another vocal [laughs]. I didn’t want to do anything else off 'The Thunderthief', so I, in my bravura, decided to sing 'That’s The Way'. Singing a Zeppelin song was even scarier, I can tell you.

I bet.

What I used to do on the tour before, I played an instrumental version of 'Going To California' on the mandolin, and I used to team [those two songs]. I would start with 'That’s The Way' – because I played those mandolin parts on the original record. [Hums the tune] Then I said, "You didn’t think I was going to sing, did you?" [Laughs] But this time I did it and I sang it, so people who went to both concerts thought it was some kind of a trick [laughs]. But it went down alright. Nobody killed me for it, ‘cause I can’t possibly sing it like Robert Plant. I don’t have that voice. But I did it in this other way, and it worked, but the first night I was terrified. Remembering words is the hard part. I put the lyrics on a music stand, so I couldn’t fuck it up. But I’m learning, I’m getting better.

How has working with a guy like Robert Fripp influenced your own writing and playing?

Well, I haven’t actually worked with him that much. The biggest connection is being on his label. [Long pause] I mean, when Zeppelin first started in 1969, and people would say, "What sort of band is it?" I used to say "progressive rock", because in those days it meant rock that progressed [laughs]. You know, it was a very literal term; "Well, you know, we’re trying to advance the form of it, and this is what we’re doing to make it go somewhere." But of course, that title came to have all sorts of different meanings. When it started to mean 'classic', that’s when I stopped saying it was progressive rock. But then we’d say it’s 'blues rock', because people love to label things. I didn’t really hear an awful lot of King Crimson [music], to be honest. But being on his label is great, mainly because of the fact that you get, obviously, total artistic freedom. There are no contracts, either. He really hates the music industry with a passion, and he’s not afraid of telling everybody [laughs] at every available opportunity, which is great. And the artist maintains the copyrights to all their material, so I just agree with him on that whole side, and I really like the way he approaches music, and musicians. He’s so passionate about everything and has a definite way that he wants to do it. It’s inspiring to know that people can say, "This is the way I want to do it!" and off he goes! He’s always kind of been around in the background, but the first time Fripp got my attention was when Brain Eno called me and asked if I knew a piano player who could do some avant garde piano. He asked if I knew anybody who could do some spacey sort of piano, and I couldn’t really think of anybody. I asked him to describe what he wanted and then I said, "Well, I can do that" [laughs]. Alright then, so I said, "What’s the track?" and he said, "Fripp’s doing a solo on it, and I want you to do the counterpart." So I went along, and it was just this rhythm track, and I played this sort of spacey piano. The next time I heard it, Fripp had put his guitar solo on afterwards, so there’s this sort of alien spacey piano and suddenly this guitar comes in like [makes sounds of cars crashing], and I was like, "Fuck! I wish I’d known he was doing that! Jesus Christ!" Like "Who is this guy?" [laughs] Then, when I met him, he was like [imitating Robert Fripp’s gentlemanly nature] "Oh, Hello John. How are you?" I’m thinking, "Now, this isn’t the same guy who was like [makes car crash noises] on that record?" But it was. And that’s what he did on "Leafy Meadows". He walked in and he puttered about and set his pedals up and had tea and cake and then he went, "Whaaaahh!!!!" [Laughs] I really like that. It’s quite a paradox. That’s what I like about Diamanda [Galas] as well. When you meet her she’s terribly nice and sweet. And then you see her sing and [makes exaggerated face of terror].

I had to smile when I saw that Nick Beggs plays the Chapman stick on the album, because I remember him as the bassist for Kajagoogoo. How do you go about finding the various players who are involved with your solo projects?

Well, on 'Zooma' I had Pete Thomas on drums and Trey Gunn on stick. I wanted a stick player because they think differently. They’re often bass players as well, and they just approach it differently. Plus, from a very practical point of view, in a trio, it’s great, because I’m a bass player and a keyboard player and I play quite a lot of lap steel in my show. If I’m doing bass, then [the stick player] can play all the lead parts. If I go to the keyboards, he can then switch to bass in mid-song, if necessary. So, it’s very practical and it means I haven’t got someone standing there with a guitar, who feels like, "Well I should be playing something, because I’m standing here" [laughs]. There’s loads of space in a trio – which is what was nice about Led Zeppelin, because when Robert wasn’t singing we were a trio. There’s loads of space and you can go anywhere you like. So, Trey Gunn was on that album and originally I had asked him to come out with me on the road, because the idea, of course, with 'Zooma' was to get out and play it. He was going to [come out with us], but then King Crimson had resurfaced and he said his first loyalty was to go with them. Then I asked Robert [Fripp] if he knew of another Chapman stick player, and he said [adopting Fripp’s accent], "Well you won't believe it, but Nick Beggs is a really good player." I went, "Nick Beggs from Kajagoogoo? ‘Too Shy’?" And he goes, "Yeah, try him out." So I did. Then I went through a few drummers and eventually Nick said, well, "Terl Bryant is a really good drummer." So he came on board and he was great, and their attitudes are just awesome. It’s a happy family, they call me 'Pater' [laughs]. But it really is just like a family on the road, it’s really sweet. And they’re just full-on, enthusiastic, 100% committed, and it’s great.

Will you be taking 'Thunderthief' on the road now that your tour opening for Crimson has passed?

Well, yes. We’re trying to get some dates together at the moment, to do 'The Thunderthief'. But the thing is, I’d like to headline again, because then I can do my long show with the keyboards and things. But I may have to open for somebody else, again, because we really need to play to more people. It’s just maddening. I mean, we can sell out Irving Plaza [mid-size venue in NYC], but there comes a point where that’s the biggest one we can sell out, because nobody knows us. Everybody comes to the show and goes away going [adopts American accent], "That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen! It was fantastic!" and then they tell their friends and we get people going, "Wow, I wished I’d known he was playing there." We really just need to play to more people.

Here’s a quote from a review of 'The Thunderthief': "Since his days as a top sessioneer, his abilities as an arranger and multi-instrumentalist have equipped him to add musical finesse to any genre." That’s a pretty nice compliment. Is that part of the reason you’ve been attracted to such genre diverse projects? You know, from Cinderella to The Butthole Surfers?

[Laughing] Cinderella…

Oh come on, I love Cinderella.

Yeah, they were alright. The drummer owns a bus company now. Yeah, it’s all the same to me. As long as it’s good [music] I don’t care what it is. I mean, I’ve done classical composition and string quartets and [sighs] I don’t really care what it is. If somebody asks me to do something and I don’t know how to do it, I’ll find out.

In a criticism of the song 'Angry Angry', one reviewer said that you were "Always too accomplished to achieve something so off the cuff." I guess you’d call that a back-handed compliment.

Yeah, he didn’t get it. The Brits don’t like 'Angry Angry'. For a start, they understand the accent [I sing that song in], which they hate, ‘cause it’s "music hall", basically, is what it is – like a vaudeville accent. And they don’t like it because I think they think I’m taking the piss out of punk, which I’m not. I don’t do parody at all. It’s actually terribly prosaic, how it all happened, but music is just like that for me, basically. 'Angry Angry' is at the speed it is because I heard Adam Bomb (Pink Gibson from NY based rock band, Get Animal, who plays guitar on this song) play at the Borderline in London and I immediately heard what I wanted him to do [on the record]. I went back into the studio and put a riff down, which was on bass, mandolin, and drum machine which was [sings hyper-speed riff from song], at that speed. I got it to play for three minutes, just that riff, and then I wrote the song and thought, "Now, what do I do with it?" It was at that tempo and had that intensity and the phrase 'Angry Angry' just came to me, so I wrote the lyrics from there. And I had to do it in that voice because it sounds stupid any other way [laughs]. But the Brits hate it. They think I’m trying to be something that I’m not.

Oh, those Brits are so serious about everything.

Well, you haven’t met the Germans. They’ll go right into anything and find all the symbolism and the lot.

'Ice Fishing at Night' is a really beautiful song with some dark lyrics. What inspired you to write that song?

Well, I didn’t write the lyrics. They came with 'The Thunderthief'.

What does that mean?

What happened was, halfway through what was basically going to be an instrumental album, but was also a continuation from 'Zooma', I decided it’d be really nice to have voices [laughs]. As I’ve said before, I didn’t want to get a guest vocalist in, for a couple of reasons actually. One is that I know that I’d forget what I was doing and work on producing them, whoever the vocalist was. I would immediately turn into a producer and it would go somewhere else. The other reason is that, being a bass player, I don’t actually have a distinctive sound. I mean, some people will listen to a record and go, "Oh yeah, that’s a John Paul Jones record", but if you just heard one song in isolation, [you couldn’t tell]. Like, if you’re Santana, that record he did, every time he hits that guitar you know that’s Santana. It’s what he does. He doesn’t do anything else except for that sound. I don’t have that, because of the instruments I play. I thought, guest vocalists will only dilute that and just diffuse it even more. I decided, "I’m going to try and sing myself." Then I thought, "well, I’ve got nothing to sing." Then I was thinking that I don’t want to become a singer and a songwriter all at the same time. One thing at a time, you know? So, I knew Peter Blegvad, he’s a singer/songwriter, and a cartoonist as well – he did the album cover. He’s got a weird way of looking at things; just a strange, twisted sort of dark view. I thought he’d be the ideal person to write some lyrics. I asked him, "Have you got any lyrics that you haven’t got music to? Any lyrics just laying around?" He had about four songs that he gave me and I picked up 'The Thunderthief' and 'Ice Fishing at Night' and set them to music, and basically, just experimented with singing to see whether I liked what I did. I thought I could work with these songs and I could sing enough to do what I wanted to do. I don’t have a great technique or a great voice, but as long as I could convince myself that it sounded alright, then it would be OK… which is how I do everything [laughs]. You know, I’m not a great technician on any instrument, but as long as I can convince myself that it sounds real, then I’ll do it. I sang those two songs and then I thought, "well I can’t just sing two songs" [laughs]… I think like this all the time… it’s boring really. "You can’t just have two songs… how about trying to do some more?" Now that I know I can sing, I’ll try and write some lyrics and see how easy that is. So, I learned another trick. I discovered, like many people I’m sure have, that with the onset of the computer, I enjoyed writing emails. And since I enjoyed composing emails, I thought, "I wonder if it works for writing lyrics?" [Laughs] I tired writing some lyrics on the computer and – sure enough – I wrote three songs in an hour… one of which was 'Angry Angry'. I thought, "this is fun!" I could finally master the song form on the next album, ‘cause there’s no rules, you see? It’s great!

You make it up as you go along.

Absolutely, you get away with it yet again. [Laughing] I’ve had a lot of encouragement, but at the beginning of 'Zoom'a I thought, "They’re all going to go, 'it’s boring!'"

You’ve influenced so any modern rock bassists, from Tom Hamilton and John Deacon of Queen to Krist Novoselic and Flea. It’s almost like, if you drew it all as a Family Tree, you’d be the father of rock bass playing. What’s that like?

Well, it’s just that they haven’t bothered to look further than me. I mean, I’m just lower down the food chain than somebody else is. It just depends on how far you want to go back, really. It’s very nice, it’s very flattering… but I’m imparting stuff that I probably learned from James Jamison and [Donald] 'Duck' Dunn and Charles Mingus. But it’s very nice [to hear that I’ve influenced somebody]. I met some guy in New Orleans on the last tour and he says, "You probably don’t remember me but I came to see you with my Dad when I was 12 years old. You really influenced me and you got me playing the bass and you told me I should practice." He was, like, in his twenties now. I asked him if he was still playing and he said yes, he was the principal bass for the New Orleans Philharmonic Symphony [laughs]. Right! Nice to meet you!

How did it happen that 'Rock & Roll' is now the theme music for a Cadillac commercial?

Ah! Because they asked us if they could use it [laughs]. Cadillac’s kind of a romantic thing – for Englishmen, especially. You think, "Pink Cadillac", and it was Elvis’s car, and it’s a Limo and it just has this aura. I don’t know whether it’s the same in America; probably not, because you have them over here all the time – you’ve lived with them [laughs]. I can see a Cadillac now, and it’s BIG, with big fins and whitewall tires. But they asked us if they could use the song, and they didn’t get it for nothing. And why not?

Do all three of you – you and Jimmy and Robert – all have to make a decision like that? It’s not like Page did it when you weren’t looking?

No, all three of us make those decisions.

Well, on one had, you can think, "Classic car, classic song", but it does kind of bother me that I hear The Who’s 'Bargain' now and instantly think of a car commercial.

Well, yeah… I haven’t actually seen the commercial yet.

Before Led Zeppelin ever came into being, you had a successful career as a session musician and arranger. How much of Zeppelin’s unique sound is owed to your work on the arrangements?

Eh… some. But then it’s equally the way Bonham approached the drums and it really was a group effort. Even if the original idea wasn’t a group effort, the final thing was a group effort. It really was, more than any band I was involved in. It was never like the songwriter ruled the band. Robert wrote the lyrics last, usually.

But there wasn’t any other band that sounded like Led Zeppelin, and there never has been since. That’s kind of a big deal when you think about it. Especially now, in this day of everybody sounding like everyone else.

That’s because people in bands these days always listen to the same music. They all start a band because they all like U2 or they all like Pearl Jam. Consequently, their field of reference is very narrow. Our field of reference was huge. Page and I were very hard working session musicians, and when you walk into a session it can be absolutely anything. Country and western, to Champion Jack Dupree, to Englebert Humperdink, to a big band session. You walk through that door and you don’t know; it could really be anything [laughs]. You name it, I’ve done it. I played weddings, I’ve played Bar Mitzvahs, I’ve done Irish weddings, Jewish weddings, Greek weddings, Italian weddings. I can play it all. Musicians these days, they don’t seem to do that anymore, and bring it all into the mix. Bonzo used to like soul music and knew the words to every Chi-Lites record, ever [laughs]. He was the biggest Smokey Robinson fan, he was into Motown, he loved The Beatles and James Brown. I was into all that soul music, jazz, and classical. Robert was really into blues and all the rock stuff and doo-wop. Page had all these other interests. It was just a huge range of influences, you could go here or there or this way or that. And that’s what I do now, with this music.

What was the dynamic like between you and John Bonham as a rock rhythm section?

Well, we weren’t like a lot of rock rhythm sections, we swung like a bastard! [laughs] Groove was extremely important in Zeppelin and it wasn’t in a lot of those bands [that were popular at the same time]. It was extremely important, which is what, to me, made the band [so great]. We used to have a lot of women at our concerts – and I loved having women at our concerts because they’d dance. [Laughing] It’s great, because the guys stand there with their arms folded and the girls are dancing. Zeppelin was great because it was music you could dance to, and you can’t say that about too many rock bands.

How did your work with Diamanda Galas on her record 'The Sporting Life' and its subsequent tour, end up affecting your own career?

Oh, wow, she’s my favorite piano player. She’s just very inspiring as an artist, she’s very passionate, very committed, always knows what she wants to do. I have several other things to thank her for; she got me playing steel guitar again, which I hadn’t done for years. She saw it in the studio and said "What’s that?" And I said, "Steel guitar", "I want to hear it." So we put it on one of her songs and we did two songs with it in her shows. It was good because it gave me some sort of "high voice" as well as being in the back playing bass. And I thought, "this is a way I can work, this is a way I can actually do a solo show without being a bass player and having other people take over all the fun stuff."

Didn’t she also inspire you to start playing live again?

Yes, she did. I mean… somebody actually said, I think this was a German interview, [the journalist] said that he thought that these records – this is interesting – that 'The Thunderthief' was the third record in a trilogy, starting with Diamanda’s record. And in fact, he’s right in that way, because that was the first time I’d tried using that sort of riff, drums and voice. A lot of people didn’t like it, but to me it was blindingly obvious. I couldn’t see why nobody had thought of it before, especially with her voice, because she has all that range and passion. Plus, her lyrics are great! These homicidal love songs are wonderful [laughs]. She came along with, "Hide the knives, baby’s insane!" [laughs]. 'Skotoseme', that first track [on 'The Sporting Life'], she did it in one take. Me and the engineer were shaking at the end of it, and she just went [adopting a woman’s voice] "Is that OK? I’m going to get myself some coffee" [laughing]. When someone suggested we work together, I could hear it all in my head. I just went [snaps fingers], "I know what we’re going to do as well." I sent her these riffs, to New York, and she sent back some ideas. Then she just turned up and stayed for two months, and we made the record. It was just brilliant. I thought, "This is great! We can do what we like again." I was just so inspired. Then she also told me – cause she’s collaborated with everybody as well – that she’d said in interviews, when they’d say, "Well, why don’t you collaborate anymore?" She’d say, "Well, I’ve put effort into everybody else’s music. If I’m going to put that much effort into music, it’s going to be my own." And I went, "Yeah!" [laughs].

She kinda scares me, to tell you the truth.

She scares us all! That’s the fun part. But she’s so committed to her music. She’s just having fun. She was great on stage one time, [laughs] there was that perfect moment in this theater in Chicago, she was there at the front of the stage and – you know how everybody shouts out song titles? – a little voice comes up in this slight lull between songs and goes "Song Remains the Same!" And she just looked at him and she goes [makes malevolent face], "No, it doesn’t, motherfucker." [Laughing] You could see the crowd part.

As a way of wrapping this up, I surely don’t have to tell you this, but thinking about how Led Zeppelin always gets the nod as the greatest hard rock or metal band of all time – on VH1 shows or magazine polls, or radio countdowns or whatever – do you think the endurance and greatness of the Led Zeppelin legend has much to do with the fact that you guys called it quits after John Bonham died, while you were still a hot item?

[Pauses] I suppose with hindsight, maybe that did have something to do with it. I mean, there was no point in carrying on, it would be a different band, because no John Bonham, no Led Zeppelin, it’s as simple as that. He was so integral, to have gotten someone else would have made it more of a tribute band, if you were playing Led Zeppelin songs, because anyone else would have to be in his shadow all the time. However, he died at a time when there was like a new lease on life, a new awakening in Zeppelin. Punk had severely embarrassed us [laughs]. We’d stripped down and just went, [shrugs] "Oh, OK, right. This is over, off we go again." It was a very hopeful time, despite the darkness of having lost John. That was terrible. So, yes, [had he not died] we would have gone on and… who knows what would have happened.

#john paul jones #jonesy #led zeppelin #robert plant #planty #jimmy page #pagey #john bonham #bonzo #60s #70s #70s rock #70s music #rock music #ourshadowstallerthanoursoul

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rastronomicals · 3 days

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11:18 PM EDT May 18, 2024:

Led Zeppelin - "Candy Store Rock" From the album Presence (March 31, 1976)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Much in the same way that the lyrics to The Beatles' "Glass Onion" acknowledged with a nod and a reluctant wink the gnostic cult of Paul-is-Dead, the packaging of Led Zeppelin's Presence acknowledged the I'm sure at-least-somewhat-discomfitting fact that their group had long since become the most humongous rock band in the world.

By the time of The White Album, and by the time of Presence, respectively, things had gotten to the point where expedience was no longer expedient. The Beatles had tried not to feed the conspiracy theorists, and Zeppelin--modest at least in this one regard--had stayed away from licensing lunchboxes and appearances on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. But at a certain point, things get so big, and so plain, that they become the elephant in the room.

Presence seems to be Zep's acceptance of their own status (beyond even their own control) as Big Dumb Object, an enormous artifact of unfathomable consequence.

That's dumb as in "incapable of speech," not as in "stupid," just so we're straight. But since we're there, let me note that Presence perhaps more than any Zeppelin album save II demonstrates that a certain amount of stoopidity is unavoidable or even desired if you're going to play the cock-rock game.

Plant's lyrics to "Achilles" reference some etching or the other of William Blake's, so my point is not to disparage Zeppelin's obvious operational intelligence. Still, Zeppelin were all about contrast: I dare you to check out the live video from '77, and tell me that Plant's suggestive mannerisms as he sings the band's 11-minute epic aren't a little stoopid . . . .

Ah, but I digress, 'cause the key concept here is not "Dumb" but "Big." Think thunder. Think "Hammer of the Gods," if that helps.

After four albums where at least part of the idea had been to leaven the heaviness with keyboards or acoustic instruments, Presence was a return to the undiluted bombast of the second album. Guitar bass drums voice recorded in a mere 18 days--not necessarily simple, but certainly direct.

The instrumental contrasts that for good or ill had been there on III, IV, Houses of the Holy, and Physical Graffiti were absent on the band's seventh album--and maybe that's why it's long been their least popular. Funny thought, that: maybe Zeppelin were so goddamned popular not because of the parts that rocked, but because of the parts that didn't!

I don't want to go overboard, however. I don't want to make it sound as if Presence were a piece of the nascent pub rock of the time, because the very first track belies that. "Achilles" is the third longest studio track for the band and features perhaps Page's most intricate guitar orchestration, with as many as 12 overdubs. It's routinely described as proggy, or even Yes-like (and if you don't believe that, consider that Dream Theater is one of the many acts who have covered the song). And note that Jonesy is playing an eight-string bass.

Leave it to this band of contrasts to feature a 10-1/2 minute song about a Greek demigod with painstakingly multitracked guitars on their back-to-basics record . . . Presence is perhaps Led Zeppelin's most misunderstood album, but for Page Plant Jones & Bonham, that may have been The Object all along.

File under: The Object Of It All

#Led Zeppelin #Presence #Candy Store Rock

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harry-on-broadway · 2 years

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The Last Line: Part One

Part One

Word Count: 9.4K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: I didn’t think I’d be writing another series so soon after TYTM but...this little idea of an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers story that I’ve been thinking about for a long time just wouldn’t go away. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’m enjoying writing it. Would love to hear what everyone thinks!

***

May 12, 2017

Review: Harry Styles Heads In A New Direction

By Penny Sanders

If you know someone, most likely a young woman, between the ages of 13 and 30, chances are you’ve heard of Harry Styles.

Or at least his former band, One Direction.

Styles is one of the five young men that were thrown together by the infamous Simon Cowell to create the best selling boy band of all-time. Over their brief career, One Direction’s discography cast a wide net, attracting fans of all ages. Young tweens and their millennial counterparts were drawn in by the clean-cut look of the lads clad in blazers and bowties and lyrics that felt like they were pulled from a self-insert fanfiction. However, as the years progressed the band added a bit of an edge – tattoos, rumors of an attempted threesome, and lyrics about a loaded gun (read: erect penis). But with 1D in the midst of an indefinite hiatus, all eyes are on Harry, Niall, Liam, and Louis (and Zayn too) to see what comes next.

Styles has answered that question with a 10-song debut that is worlds away from the five albums he put out with his former band. Gone are the bubblegum beats, replaced by alternatively somber and bombastic instrumentals. And forget cheeky “wink-wink nod-nod” lyrics to – gasp! sex! Styles readily admits getting himself off in a hotel room in the album’s closer, “From the Dining Table.”

It’s not a poor offering, but frankly, it’s not great either. While he pushes himself to redefine the sound that has been associated with him for more than five years, the result is a generic LP that will likely be forgotten as soon as one of the industry’s legitimate superstars releases a new single. And, to head off the question I’ve already received from many of Styles’ supporters on Twitter, I can guarantee that you won’t be seeing this album or any of its tracks, mentioned at this year’s Grammy Awards.

One of the bright spots on the album, the lead single “Sign Of The Times,” feels like a grand moment, but it also feels misplaced, almost as if it was a song that should have come a decade into his solo career. Despite poignant lyrics (the song is purportedly about a mother dying in childbirth), Styles’ falsetto needs strengthening and at times he sounds like a young boy trying to imitate his elders. He has talent and shows promise, but isn’t able to pull off a ballad of that caliber yet. Other songs, like “Sweet Creature” and “Two Ghosts” are instantly forgettable, though “Kiwi,” while memorable, is just plain painful to listen to.

Styles is obviously popular, and that alone will be enough to propel him to years of sold-out shows and chart-topping albums. But he needs something else – a secret ingredient if you will – to launch him to further stardom and cement his name alongside his idols Nicks, Bowie, and Jagger. Otherwise, he’ll be nothing but a midnight memory.

***

September 21, 2017

Review: Harry Styles Rocks The Greek Theatre

By Penny Sanders

Months after the release of his self-titled debut album, Harry Styles found himself at the Greek Theatre, ready to play to a sold out crowd that had likely been waiting for this moment since One Direction’s final performance.

And let me just say, attending a Harry Styles concert is an experience like no other.

The intimate venue was a nice change of pace for Styles who was selling out stadiums in the latter half of One Direction’s tour. He was always seen as the charming one, and the small stage makes that even more apparent, giving him more than enough time to banter with the audience, introduce songs, and connect with his audience. I’m sure many of those in the front of the crowd will tell stories for years to come of the night they made eye contact with the heartthrob.

With just 10 songs of his own, he relied on some One Direction hits and other covers to fill out the setlist. With the exception of “The Chain,” most of the covers sounded nothing like the original version, leading anyone unfamiliar with Styles’ career so far to assume the guitar heavy, rocking versions of the songs – notably “What Makes You Beautiful” and “Story of My Life” – are the standard.

Styles has a charisma like no other, and even though it’s clear it takes him a while to warm up to the crowd, perhaps a symptom of never being alone onstage in his career so far, he’s a born performer who belongs on the stage. But for me, he wasn’t the standout. It was his fans.

The crowd was ready for fun, dressed to the nines, with nearly everyone carrying overflowing bags of merch. They sang along to the songs word perfect and clung to Styles every word, cheering louder than I’ve ever heard when he entered the stage. It was a joyous occasion and had an energy I haven’t seen in any of the concerts I’ve recently attended.

I spoke to a number of women in attendance last night, asking them what drew them to the show. Some cited their One Direction fandom, while others spoke of the sounds of his music, and how it reminded them of other classic songs they love. But for many, Styles himself was the primary reason for being there.

“He makes things really personal,” said Ally, a college student who came from Minneapolis to see the show – her third time seeing Styles this year. “A lot of the other concerts I go to, the artists don’t say anything other than a generic thank you. But Harry makes every show feel special.”

“He feels like a friend,” said Katrina, a local high-schooler. “School’s not always easy and I sometimes struggle with things, but when I listen to his music or go to one of his shows, it feels comforting. Like I’m in a safe place.”

These statements perfectly summarize why Styles’ concerts are so unique.

If he stays true to what his fans want and lets his personality shine on stage, that, in addition to strengthening his songwriting, could be enough to land him alongside his musical icons, and 50 years from now, we’ll see him headlining stadiums on his own, playing a career’s worth of hits as the crowd – full more than just women – sings along.

Longtime readers will remember that I was less than effusive in my review of Styles’s debut, but after seeing him live, I must eat my words and say he’s going places.

***

Transcript from the “Track After Track” podcast, Episode 147: July 21, 2018

Ethan: Speaking of concerts, Penny, you just saw Harry Styles at the Forum, right?

Penny: Yeah, I was there a week ago. Eight days? No a week ago. Sorry it all blends together.

Ethan: I mean, you are at a concert every night, pretty much, so I’ll give you a pass.

Penny: [laughs] You’re so kind. But yes, I was at his show.

Tyler: How was that? I never know what to make of these boy band guys. For every Timberlake, there’s 10 Chris Kirkpatricks.

Penny: It wasn’t terrible. He puts on a good show.

Ethan: Was this your first time seeing him?

Penny: No. I saw him twice when he was in One Direction. And when he was at the Greek.

Tyler: And?

Penny: Like I said, he’s not terrible. It’s clear that his music and personality has resonated with a lot of people, so his shows are filled with fans and have a great energy. Listening to the album on its own is kind of meh…there weren’t a lot of tracks that stuck out as memorable…but live it can be kind of fun. You can tell he loves performing and really feeds off the crowd.

Ethan: Confession: I actually haven’t listened to the album yet.

Penny: That doesn’t surprise me based on the number of EDM CDs in your car.

Ethan: [laughs] Yeah, the genre definitely isn’t my cup of tea, but I think Harry is someone the industry really needs to watch. He’s going to do big things. Well, even bigger since he’s already pretty massive. Tyler, have you listened?

Tyler: Yeah, but I just can’t bring myself to get into it. Like, you just mention his name and you can hear the teen girls screaming off in the distance. I just think it’s a red flag when your fanbase is that narrow. Like if teen girls are your driver, how are you going to succeed? What happens when they’re not 13 and hormonal anymore. You’re not seeing a lot of geriatric boy band fans.

Penny: Wow! Ageism and sexism all in one statement! That has to be a first for you! It’s fine to say you don’t like his music, but to discount it purely on the basis that younger women like it…that’s just plain ignorant.

Tyler: Let’s evaluate this in five years and see where he is.

Penny: Fine, in five years have me back on this podcast and we’ll discuss his Grammy win.

Tyler: You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think Harry Styles will win a Grammy. You need to start thinking with your head and not your – (inaudible)

Penny: Seriously?

Ethan: OK, let’s talk charts…

***

Talking Biz News

November 8, 2018

Penny Sanders to join media start-up The Moment as Music Reporter

***

Present Day, 2019

“She needs to go back to copyediting and stop fucking up my stories,” Chloe barked, stabbing lettuce onto her fork to match her anger. “She knows nothing about film but is constantly trying to make corrections and I’m just like ‘No?!? That’s not how the fucking industry works.’” She looked across the table at Penny. “Am I crazy?”

“No, you’re not crazy,” Penny said, trying to soothe her friend. “I have the same issue with Darren. He came in thinking he was hot shit because he had been at Rolling Stone and started trying to explain how the charts work as if I haven’t been covering this for years. I can’t tell you how much time I spend undoing his edits before the piece goes to Skylar.”

“Why can’t this newsroom hire a competent editor?” Chloe asked. “It’s not that hard.”

“Probably because no editor wants to work here?”

“Good point!”

Penny and Chloe were eating a late lunch in the courtyard of the complex that housed The Moment, the entertainment publication they both worked for. They’d met three years ago during a summer internship at Variety and forged an alliance after realizing they were the only two women in the program. Penny had wanted to cover music and Chloe was determined to become a film reporter, and they’d been thrilled to finally end up at The Moment together after several years of freelancing and fighting for staff writer roles. Now, they were unstoppable, filing stories daily and dodging pointless notes from their first editors.

“Wait, Penny…didn’t you file your piece on ‘Old Town Road’ today?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why? It’s such an interesting story,” Chloe whined. “And I haven’t seen anyone covering it yet.”

“That always makes me nervous.” Penny swirled her spoon through her bowl of soup.

“It shouldn’t. It means you’re ahead of the curve.”

“Or I’ve completely misjudged the story. Maybe it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Give it a month and everyone will be talking about it.” Chloe paused. “Is Darren taking firsts?”

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s not looking good for me, Chlo.”

The Moment’s typical reporting and editing process involved a reporter filing a story to one editor, who would do an intensive first edit, fixing the structure of the story, making notes on sections that needed to be added or get cut, and getting the piece 99% ready for publication. The second round of edits was largely focused on fixing grammar and spelling, as well as fact-checking, ahead of publication. Penny typically preferred Skylar, the publication’s editor-in-chief, to take on first edits. While she could be tough, she was smart and kind, and Penny’s stories were always much better after Skylar got her hands on them. When other editors, like Darren, took first edits, Penny knew to prepare herself for days of tears, stress, and questioning her life choices.

“What about you?” Penny asked, wanting to shift the conversation away from her anxiety over her story. “Have things calmed down post-Oscars?”

“Yes. Thankfully.”

Penny knew Chloe loved her job but from late August to early March, she was running from festival to festival, covering awards season. In addition to writing her articles, she, like Penny, found herself taking on media hits as an added responsibility, appearing on morning shows, podcasts, and radio programs to break down entertainment topics for everyday consumers. It was fun and super fulfilling, but it was also exhausting.

“When is Cannes again?”

“May!” Chloe said brightly. “Easily my favorite festival.”

“I have no idea why,” Penny said with a sly grin. “Two weeks on a French beach surrounded by celebrities, eating the most delicious food. It sounds horrid.”

“Oh my God, Penny? What are you doing here?”

Penny and Chloe turned in synchronicity to look at the man who had shouted at them from a table across the path.

“Do we know him?” Chloe asked, mumbling the question through the tentative grin she had plastered on her face.

“I can’t actually see his face,” Penny admitted, squinting trying to gain a better view.

“This is why you need to wear your glasses,” Chloe hissed.

“Of all the food courts in Los Angeles,” the man continued as he walked over to them.

“Wait…Tom? Is that you?”

“It is! How have you been?” He opened his arms and pulled Penny into him. She wrapped her own arms around him.

“So good. I didn’t realize you were out here.”

“I’ve actually been here for a few years now.”

“Shit. Really. I feel so bad that I didn’t reach out,” Penny said apologetically. “And I’m also surprised that my mom didn’t mention you.”

“Eh, it’s not a problem,” he shrugged.

“Care to introduce me?” Chloe asked.

“Ah, yes,” Penny said, composing herself. “Chloe, this is Tom Skoglund. He’s a longtime family friend, although I’m sure that title is being called into question since I didn’t even know he was living here. Tom, this is Chloe. She’s a friend of mine who also works at The Moment.” Penny stepped back to allow Chloe and Tom to shake hands and exchange pleasantries. “Do you want to sit with us?” she asked when they were finished, noting Tom’s sandwich and chips.

“If you don’t mind,” he said. “I’d love to catch up.”

Penny and Chloe sat back down as Tom pulled up a third chair and set his food down. “So you’re still doing the reporter thing?” he asked with a grin. He turned to Chloe. “Penny used to write a newsletter for everyone in the neighborhood. It had news items and opinion pieces all written by her. I seem to remember a glowing review for the second High School Musical soundtrack.”

“It’s full of bangers and you know it,” Penny said with a grin.

Tom turned to Chloe. “Do you also cover music?”

Chloe shook her head. “I’m a film girl.”

“Thoughts on the Oscars?” he asked as he took a bite.

“Anyone who actually pays attention to previous stats knew that Green Book would pull out a win so I wasn’t surprised. I will be curious to see what Netflix does next though. I personally thought The Favourite should have won, but that’s why I’m not a voter.”

“I literally only saw Black Panther and A Star Is Born so I feel like I don’t have room to say anything,” Tom said with a grimace.

“You sound like Penny,” Chloe said with a laugh. “She can tell you the exact week a song hit number one on the Billboard charts, but is frighteningly unaware of the latest movies.”

“I only have so much room for useless facts,” Penny said, earning a kick under the table from Chloe. She turned her attention back to Tom. “What are you doing here? Last I heard my mom said you were working in finance? Is that still the case?”

“God no,” he said lightly. “I had enough of that soul crushing job and decided to head out here to hack it in music. Got an assistant gig and worked my way up to manager.”

“Tom, that’s incredible,” Penny said with genuine excitement. “Who are you with?”

“Full Stop. With Jeff Azoff”

“Wow,” Penny said as Chloe let out a slow whistle. She turned to look at her friend.

“Yes, I know who the Azoffs are,” Chloe said. “And that’s impressive. Congrats, Tom.” Her phone chirped and she looked down at the screen. “Fuck. One of my sources wants to chat. I’ve got to take this.” She looked up at Penny and Tom. “It was so nice to meet you, Tom. Penny, I’ll see you at drinks later?”

Penny nodded and waved as Chloe disappeared across the grass, depositing her empty salad container in the trash. “So Full Stop,” she said, turning back to Tom. “You all have quite the roster.”

“Before you ask, no comment,” Tom said with a grin.

“Tom, I’m disappointed that you’d think I would stoop that low. I have a firm stance on not using friends for work stuff.”

“Well good, because you’d get nothing out of me.” He took a sip of his drink. “Remind me, are you still doing breaking news?” He grimaced. “I know I see your byline frequently, but I don’t always remember which article it comes in front of.”

“No. I moved on from that.” Penny didn’t miss the days of covering the desk at night, ready to pounce on any stories that came across the wire. “I mostly do reviews for concerts and albums now. I’m working my way up to business features, profiles, those types of things.”

“What should I go back and get caught up on?”

“I reviewed Maggie Rogers’ album a couple of weeks ago and wrote a review of Elton John’s show last week.”

“God, doesn’t he put on a great show.”

“One of the best. And I’m working on a feature about TikTok and ‘Old Town Road’ right now.”

“That sounds so interesting. Is it up yet?”

“No. I just filed it to my editor so there is a very good chance that it will never see the light of day. But if it does, I will send it your way.”

“Please. Let me give you my number.”

Penny pulled out her phone and handed it to her old friend. It was a strange feeling knowing that in the heyday of their friendship, they hadn’t needed each other's number, knowing they could always find the other in the cul-de-sac or the school hallways.

“Done.” Tom said, saving his contact information and passing the phone back to Penny, who quickly dashed off a text so he would have her information as well.

“I should probably head back into the office now,” Penny said. “But it was great to see you.”

“You too,” Tom said, standing to hug her. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to come to a little party slash happy hour thing I’m having on Friday. It’s super casual, basically just drinks and fancy snacks with a bunch of people from the office. I think they’d all love to meet you and talk music. Off the record,” he added quickly.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Penny replied. “I should be free Friday.”

“Great. I’ll text you my address and we can take it from there.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Penny said, collecting her trash. “I’m really looking forward to seeing more of you.”

“Same. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Penny waved as she threw her trash away and headed back to her building. She smiled to herself. It would be nice to have another friendly face around. They were too rare in her line of work.

***

Penny promptly shut her laptop at 5pm, stowing it in her tote bag and pushing her chair underneath her desk.

“Have a nice weekend!” she called out to the few staffers that were remaining in the newsroom, before heading to her car. She plugged Tom’s address into her GPS app, hit play on her Spotify playlist, and pulled out of the parking lot. She was about 45 minutes away, thanks to the heavy traffic that was a near constant presence in the city, but made it to Tom’s house before her 80s synth mix was finished playing, which she counted as a win.

She grabbed her bag and fished around in the backseat for the bottle of wine she’d purchased earlier that day. She wasn’t sure if this was that type of gathering, but she felt weird showing up empty handed. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t say no to some Trader Joe’s wine. She locked her car and walked up the path and heard some shouts coming from the backyard. She rang the bell and just a few moments later, Tom appeared with a smile on his face.

“Penny! Come on in!” he said, opening the door for her. “How was the drive over?”

“Not as bad as it could have been,” she replied, shrugging off her cardigan and tote bag.

“I can take those,” Tom offered, reaching for her belongings, and placing them in a nearby closet.

“Thanks,” Penny said. “And this is for you,” she added, offering him the bottle of wine.

“You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It’s from Trader Joe’s, Tom. It is quite literally the least I could do.”

He laughed. “Well, thank you. I’ll put it out now. It’s an open bar, so help yourself. Once you get a drink, I’ll take you around and introduce you to everyone.”

Penny poured herself a rum and Coke, and followed Tom out to the patio, drink in hand.

“Penny, I’d like you to meet Tommy Bruce,” he said. “Tommy, this is my friend, Penny. We reconnected the other day.”

“Pleasure, Penny,” Tommy said, shaking her hand. “Do you also work in the industry?”

“Sort of. I’m a critic and reporter at The Moment. I cover music.”

“That’s sick. Do you go to a lot of shows?”

“Yes. I was at Elton John’s show the other day and I’m planning to see Post Animal in a couple of weeks.”

“I was at Elton too! I wonder if we ran into each other?”

“We probably did,” Penny said with a laugh.

“Are you planning to go to Leon Bridges?”

“I’m not sure yet. I have to get everything approved by my editor so it’s up to her.”

“I hope you can. He’s so good. Hey, Jeff!”

Tom and Tommy turned their attention to another man that had approached their small group.

“Penny, this is the man, the myth, the legend, Jeffrey Azoff,” Tom said.

“They exaggerate,” Jeff said. “Nice to meet you Penny.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Penny said, moving her drink to her other hand so she could shake Jeff’s. “I’m an old friend of Tom’s from growing up. I work as a music journalist now.”

“Yeah, you’re at The Moment, right?” Jeff said.

“Yes…” Penny said slowly.

“OK,” Tommy said, affably rolling his eyes. “He’s such a show off.”

“I try to keep up with those who cover our clients, that’s all,” Jeff said. “And if it makes me look like a show-off, so be it,” he added, as Tommy playfully punched his shoulder.

As the men continued to banter, Penny surveyed the room, making the silent calculation she faced nearly everyday. Including herself, there were four women total at the gathering, which felt like a huge accomplishment. Working in her industry, she was used to being one of the only women in the room, a blessing and a curse.

The blessing was that whenever she found another woman at an event or meeting, they instantly gravitated toward each other, which meant she’d made a lot of friends in just a few years. The curse was obvious: men.

The men that surrounded her weren’t the worst offenders – they kept their hands and other body parts to themselves and were generally very kind – but being the lone woman was noticeable. Men would casually throw out that someone was a “bitch” or offer Penny an explanation that they didn’t give to a male reporter two years her junior. Penny usually just took it with a grain of salt, sighing internally, complaining to Chloe, and then proving her worth by being the smartest one in the room. Keeping an eye on two women chatting in the corner, she started to move towards them to introduce herself when she caught sight of another person across the way.

Harry Styles.

Or was it? Was that actually him? Chloe was right, she needed to wear her glasses more often. But Harry Styles being here didn’t make any sense. What would he be doing at a random house party?

She felt a hand on her shoulder and stepped over to the side to allow the person to pass and collect her thoughts. The more she thought about it, Harry Styles being at this party made sense. She knew from stories she’d worked on that he was repped by Full Stop, so it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility that he would hang out with Tom and the other agents outside of work, but it was still jarring to see him out in the wild.

Whenever she told people she was a music journalist, their first instinct was to assume that she was close to many of the artists she reported on daily, but that wasn’t the case. When she was attending an event, it was a professional engagement. She was there to gather the facts, tell a story, and move on. Socializing with those in the industry outside of that professional setting made her uncomfortable. Especially when she was working on a review or piece of criticism. It was one thing to write those things and send them off into the vacuum of the internet, but when she thought about the subjects of the reviews reading her writing, she started to feel…guilty. She never intended to be mean – she knew how she felt when she received harsh notes from an editor – but the point of her reviews was to offer commentary and opinions. And if she thought too much about the people behind the work, her objectivity disappeared. So, she’d made a concerted effort to keep a firm boundary to ensure her writing was as good as it could be.

The few times she did meet musicians outside of work events, she could feel her brain going a mile a minute to remember if she’d ever written something slightly negative about them for fear they’d call her out on it, as despite what every musician claimed, they always read the reviews. And her brain started working overtime to perform these mental calculations as she saw Harry stop in front of her.

“Haven’t seen you here before. I’m Harry,” he drawled slowly, reaching out his hand.

Penny momentarily froze, but quickly recovered. “I’m Penny,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Do you work at Full Stop?” he asked, eyes glancing over her as if he was trying to figure out where she should be placed.

“No.”

“At one of the labels?”

“No.”

“OK, well I’m stumped as to where you fit it,” he said with a light laugh. “Care to enlighten me?”

“I’m a writer,” Penny replied, hoping the vague nature of her answer was enough to satisfy him.

“Have you written anything I’ve read?”

“Maybe.”

“Care to give me any other clues?” he asked, sipping from the plastic cup in his hand and leaning in closer to hear her response. Penny couldn’t tell what it was, but from the smell wafting over to her, it was something strong.

“I’m a journalist.”

“What do you cover?” Another sip, his eyes intensely focused on her.

“Entertainment,” Penny said simply, praying this game of 20 questions would be over soon.

“That’s kind of vague,” Harry replied quickly.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Oh! A woman with an air of mystery. That’s…” he paused. “Enticing.”

“Enticing?” Penny quirked a brow and shot him a bemused grin.

“Yeah, it’s like a challenge. You’re making me work for it.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, maybe a drink?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Wow. Subtle.”

“I try.” The corners of his lips ticked up. “Maybe I should try a little harder though.”

Penny was thinking up a witty comeback, somewhat amused by the situation she’d found herself in and very pleased that she’d have a new story to share with Chloe at lunch on Monday, when Tom interrupted their conversation.

“There you two are! I was hoping to introduce you all tonight.” He looked at Harry, gesturing to Penny. “This is Penny. She’s a friend from back home who’s a big time writer for The Moment. She writes reviews for concerts and albums.”

Penny snuck a look at Harry and thought she saw a flicker of…something…in his eyes. It was so subtle and so brief that she didn’t have time to think about what it could mean before she felt Tom’s arm on her back.

“And Penny, you of course know Harry.”

“I do. I think one of my friends had a toothbrush with your face on it.”

“Hmmm,” Harry murmured. “Those were a hot item for sure.”

Tom’s eyes darted between the two, evidently waiting for them to continue the conversation he had interrupted. Seeing that that wasn’t going to happen, he excused himself and moved onto another group of people.

“So, music is the kind of entertainment you cover.” The banter was back but it had a harder edge this time.

“It is.”

“Have you ever written about me?”

Penny mulled her potential responses, trying to find one that could cause the path of least resistance. “No,” she said simply.

“Really?” Harry said. The challenge in his voice was evident. “You weren’t the one who said I sound like ‘a young boy trying to imitate his elders?’”

Fuck. Penny felt her face grow hot. “That might have been me.”

“I thought so.”

“How long did you know?”

“Once Tom said the name of where you work. There aren’t that many critics named Penny that wrote a scathing review of my album.”

“It wasn’t scathing,” Penny said, suddenly feeling defensive of her work. “It was critical, sure, but that’s what my job is. I’m a critic. And besides, don't musicians get off on bragging about how they don’t pay attention to the reviews?”

“Hate to break it to you but that’s a load of bullshit. We are all very sensitive creatures.”

“Well, that’s clear based on how you’re acting now.”

“How I'm acting? You’re the one that’s yelling in the middle of a party.”

“I’m not yelling!” Penny said, lowering her voice by a couple of decibels. “You’re the one that came over here trying to score and then decided to pick a fight because you can’t forget about one review from like two years ago.”

“I’m sorry–” Harry laughed in disbelief. “You thought I was trying to get lucky? What made you think that?”

“‘Ah! A mysterious woman! So enticing! I like a challenge. You’re making me bloody work for it. Let’s get a drink!’” Penny shot back in a poor imitation of his slow, deep voice.

“I did not say that.”

“Yes you did!” Penny yelped. “You totally did.”

“Whatever,” Harry mumbled, taking another sip of his drink while Penny just looked at him.

“That’s all you have to say?”

Harry looked at her blankly. “Yes?”

“Oh, I thought you might offer up a sorry.”

“What for?”

“For attacking my work.”

“I hate to break it to you, Penny, but I think you attacked my work first.”

“Because it’s my fucking job!”

“Everything alright over here?” Jeff asked, stepping into the conversation. The look of caution on his face told Penny that her conversation with Harry had been overheard by the others at the party.

“We’re fine,” Penny said evenly.

“Yeah, peachy keen,” Harry added, earning a glare from Penny.

“I should actually be going,” Penny said.

“Oh, can’t you stay a little longer?” Jeff asked as Harry muttered “Bye, then.” Jeff cut his eyes over to Harry, who avoided his glance. “Alright then,” he said slowly. “It was nice to meet you, Penny. Hope to see you around.”

“You, too,” Penny said before swiftly leaving the group.

“What was that about?” Jeff asked, attention turned back to Harry.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“You were a bit, shall we say…dickish…back there?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“If you say so,” Jeff said. He paused. “Have you read any of her work?”

“I’ve read enough of it.”

“You should honestly read some more. The Moment in general is a really up-and-coming publication. They’ve poached some stellar writers and editors from Billboard and Rolling Stone. And Penny…she’s smart. I think you all would have a lot to talk about.”

Harry glared at Jeff. “What makes you say that?”

“She’s got an interesting perspective. Her reviews always leave me thinking about things in a different way and I can’t say that about many critics.”

“Oh really,” Harry shot back, suddenly combative. “Did you start to reconsider my album after reading her review?”

“Calm down, H,” Jeff said gently. “Your album is a fantastic accomplishment and you know it. And she doesn’t just write criticism, she does cultural pieces as well. Check them out. She was on a podcast last year that you might find interesting.” Jeff pulled out his phone, typing quickly. “Here’s a link. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.”

Harry shot Jeff another glare and drained his cup. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “I’ll move it to the top of the list. See you later,” he called, pushing past his manager.

He tossed his cup into a nearby trash can and combed the room for Tom, offering a wave as he walked out the door. Harry walked slowly down the driveway, feeling the cool night air blow through his hair, relishing the peace. He’d felt a little off all day, but couldn’t put a finger on why, and his encounter with Penny had thrown him even more off balance. He’d been feeling like this a lot recently. Like he didn’t quite fit in alongside the other pieces of his life. He reached his car and unlocked it, sliding inside.

He plugged in his phone and stared out the windshield. Penny. He hadn’t known who she was when he approached her that night. Only that she looked pretty and that the smile she’d worn when he saw her talking to Jeff and Tommy made him want to know more about her. But as the pieces fell into place, it was impossible to look past what she’d done to him two years ago.

He didn’t know why her review had struck such a nerve with him. It wasn’t like his debut had been released to unanimous raves, and after two years of looking back on it, while he was proud of what he’d accomplished, he could see the weak spots in his work and was hoping to improve upon them with his second album. The hurt that lingered was just one of those implacable feelings.

Rolling his neck and feeling it crack, he pulled on his seatbelt and scrolled through his music library looking for something to listen to on the ride home. But after cycling through the entire library twice to no avail, he opened the text Jeffrey had sent him earlier, pressing play on the podcast episode that had been shared with him before turning the key in the ignition. His drive home was long but while he usually grew antsy watching the clock change as he sat bumper to bumper with other drivers, tonight his mind was occupied listening to the discussion echoing through his speakers.

It was an episode from one of Variety’s podcasts last year, shortly after his Forum concerts. Penny was a guest, chatting with the two guys who served as hosts. One of them sounded cool, and the other sounded like someone that he’d like to punch in the face if they ever crossed paths in real life. The episode was about his tour, specifically his shows in Los Angeles. It was weird listening to people talk about him like he was a commodity for consumption, and not like a human, a blatant reminder of why he typically abstained from engaging with anything like this.

Much to his surprise, Penny played the role of his supporter throughout the podcast, jumping to his defense when the Asshole, or whatever his name was, levied harsh words at Harry and his fans. He wouldn’t have expected that based on what she’d previously written. On the track, they shifted topics and Harry’s mind drifted off as the episode played on, ending moments before he arrived at his home. He turned off the car but made no effort to head inside. Instead, he picked up his phone and opened Instagram where he typed in Penny’s name.

Her account popped up right away. He scrolled over her page, unsurprised by what he found. Lots of pictures of concerts, sunsets on the beach, and admittedly delicious looking food. There weren’t many pictures of her but he found one that was relatively recent, posted last Christmas. She was smiling alongside some other women, probably friends based on the caption, and once again he felt something tugging inside of him when he looked at her. Next, he redownloaded the Twitter app, something he swore he would never do, and typed in Penny’s name, skimming through her Tweets. Jeff was right. She was frustratingly and irritatingly smart.

Closing out of Twitter, he navigated back to Instagram, finger hovering over the follow button. He hesitated, but after a minute his finger came down on the icon and it changed from blue to gray.

As he put his phone in his pocket and locked his car, across town Penny’s phone lit up with a notification. She missed the initial alert as she washed her face and pulled on the old college t-shirt she wore to bed most nights, but she finally noticed it when she went to set her alarm: Harry Styles followed you.

What the fuck was he trying to do? After laying into her the way he did at Tom’s house, completely unprovoked, the last thing she wanted to do was interact with him in the virtual world. She deleted the notification, plugged in her phone, and went to sleep.

When Harry woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was check his Instagram notifications. He scrolled past most of them – comments and following alerts from random fans and bots – but among all of the familiar amalgamations of usernames, Penny’s was nowhere to be found.

He laid his phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling. What game was she trying to play with him? And why did he feel so upset? The silence that surrounded him as he laid motionless was so loud.

When he finally found the motivation to get out of bed, he pulled on some jogging shorts and a tank and laced up his sneakers, grabbing headphones on his way out the door. He was hoping that a run might clear his head, but thoughts of Penny from the night before echoed alongside the sound of his feet on the pavement. Clarity hadn’t been found when he reached the five mile point, so he begrudgingly turned around to head home and shower. His mind was still swirling as he got cleaned up, and by the time he was dressed for the day and brewing coffee, he had a plan.

He pulled up his contacts and scrolled until he found the name he was looking for, pacing nervously while the phone rang.

“Hey,” the voice on the other line said. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, Tom. Sorry for the early morning call,” Harry said, twisting his fringe around his finger as he continued to do laps around the island. “Are you heading into the office today?”

“Seeing as it’s Saturday, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh, shit,” Harry said, cringing when he took note of the early weekend hour. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Not a problem,” Tom replied, stifling what seemed to be a yawn. “I’ll be there bright and early on Monday.

“Oh, nice. Would you maybe want to catch up and grab lunch?”

“That would be great, seeing as it’ll have been close to 48 hours since we last caught up,” Tom said a bit facetiously.

Harry said nothing trying to extract his fingers from the knot he’d twisted his fringe into. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled after a moment.

“H, I’m kidding,” Tom said with a light laugh. “You can always swing by. Would you want to go to the bistro?”

“No, why don’t we pick somewhere more convenient to you. How about Loqui?” Harry suggested naming one of the restaurants that was in the campus that housed both the Full Stop and The Moment offices.

“Uh, yeah that’s fine. I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend, H.”

“You too, Tom.”

Harry hung up the phone and tried to figure out how he’d distract himself until Monday.

***

As Penny sat in her editor’s office Monday morning, she was trying to calculate when her next dental appointment was scheduled for and whether or not she’d be able to add on some x-rays to survey the damage done to her jaw after clenching it as hard as she had that morning.

Darren had finished reviewing her piece over the weekend, and had suggested they review his edits first thing, which wasn't the way she wanted to start the week.

“I think the biggest problem you have here is that this isn’t a story,” he said, scrolling through the copy on his laptop. “You only have one example of this phenomenon if we want to call it that and I honestly don’t think that TikTok is that important to the success of the song. In my professional career, we’ve seen plenty of songs do this. It’s nothing unusual.”

“But you’re missing the point,” Penny said, pushing back. “The whole idea is yes, this hasn’t happened before, but it’s the way forward. This is going to be the new version of Justin Bieber getting discovered on YouTube or Shawn Mendes on Vine.” She could feel herself getting angry and took a breath to calm herself. “You’re always telling us to be ahead of the story and that’s what I’m doing.”

“But this isn’t a story.”

Penny bit the inside of her cheek as she struggled to keep her cool. “OK, then, what do you suggest I do?”

Darren sighed. “Write it up like a regular chart recap and include a couple of lines about how it’s getting close to a record.”

“Because of TikTok?”

“No mention of TikTok. We don’t want to look like we don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“We have a chance to scoop Rolling Stone and Billboard and you’re just ignoring it.”

“Because it’s not a story. End of discussion. I’ve got a meeting to go to.”

Darren stood up and exited the office, leaving Penny stunned and furious. When she’d collected herself, she moved back to her desk in the newsroom. She spun around in her chair, any motivation to work gone.

Editors, specifically Skylar, were constantly telling them to push boundaries and find the stories no one was writing on yet. Unfortunately, they weren’t always on the same page, which led to a great deal of frustration when it came time to file a story. Penny could submit a story thinking it was Pullitzer-worthy, but be left questioning her entire life path after a single round of edits. Almost as if she could sense the tension brewing, Chloe poked her head over top of the divider that separated their desks.

“I think you need coffee. Or a pastry. Or lunch. Basically you just need to not be in this office right now, so we’re going for a walk.”

Penny begrudgingly grabbed her purse and ID and headed towards the exit, close behind Chloe, who was listing off restaurant options.

“Loqui,” Penny eventually said, stopping the list. “I’m in the mood for some spice.”

After walking a few blocks they found themselves at the restaurant, scanning the menu above the cash register. They ordered – a beef plate for Chloe and chicken plate for Penny – and had stood off to the side waiting for their respective numbers to be called, when they were interrupted.

“So we go years without seeing each other and then all of a sudden it’s three times in one week?” Tom called from behind a partition.

“Oh my God,” Penny said, laughing with actual mirth for the first time all day. “What are the odds?”

“Nice to see you again,” Chloe added.

“Are you all dining in?” Tom asked, eyes shifting between the two women.

“Yeah,” Chloe chimed in. “Needed to get out of the office for a little while.”

“I feel that,” Tom replied. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Penny looked at Chloe, who nodded her agreement. Neither woman asked who “us” was.

Their numbers were called and when they’d collected their food they slid into the booth, leaving space around the plate of veggie tacos that had been placed in front of an empty chair.

“How’s your week shaping up?” Chloe asked Tom.

He shrugged. “Mondays are always rough, but it’s all downhill from here.”

“What is management like? Do you have a routine?” Chloe continued. “Like with reporting, there’s a certain cadence with different deadlines and interviews. Is there a similar thing for you all?”

“Sort of. If we’re on tour a lot of people have a routine they like to stick to. When we’re in the office, it’s a little less structured. Depends on what each client is working on.”

Penny kept her eyes on her plate, her thoughts still focused on her earlier conversation with Darren. Eyes on the floor, she saw the white loafers and yellow socks before the face of the man they belonged to.

“You’re out to lunch with Tom?” Penny asked in disbelief when her eyes met Harry’s.

“Yeah. I didn’t think there’d be a problem with that,” he mumbled as he sat in front of the plate.

“I’m Chloe. I don’t think we’ve met,” Chloe interjected helpfully.

“Harry,” Harry returned, extending his hand.

Penny stared daggers at him, but Harry refused to look at her. Penny knew he was observing her though, feeling his eyes burning into her whenever she looked away. Neither of them spoke, leaving Tom and Chloe to fill the silence with banal conversation.

As they chattered on, Penny continued to feel the heat of Harry’s glare on her.

“Can I help you?” she finally snapped.

“What?” he shot back.

“If you have something to say, just fucking say it.”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” he said, spooning some mushrooms and peppers into his mouth.

“Really? Because it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“OK, then,” Harry shot back, putting his spoon down next to his plate. “Why’d you give my album such a shit review?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I do!”

“That’s a great argument,” Penny said, rolling her eyes.

“Well how about this,” Harry said, turning to face her. “I’m trying to figure out how someone who supposedly loves music and everything it stands for can be such a hater.”

“A hater?” Penny could feel the prickly sensation behind her eyes that meant tears were just moments away. “I’m sorry. The 90s called and they want their slang back.”

“Yeah, all of your reviews are just so…mean. It’s like you forget there’s someone behind that album.”

“Almost like forgetting there’s a person behind the review?”

“Don’t twist my words like that.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying it’s a two way street.”

“All you are is a second-rate journalist who isn’t good enough to work for a legitimate publication, so instead of saying things that actually matter, you just share your shitty takes to try to get Twitter clout.”

Penny could feel her lips tremble, but she was determined to not give Harry the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “You know, it’s generally frowned upon to harass a journalist in a public setting just because you don’t care for what they have to say.” She sniffed and much to her chagrin, she could feel her eyes getting wet. “But now you’ve got me crying in a restaurant so I hope you’re satisfied.” She grabbed her purse, leaving her food nearly untouched on the table. “I’ll see you back at the office, Chloe.”

Chloe and Tom’s eyes followed her as she walked out of the restaurant. Harry kept his eyes locked on his plate.

“I should probably check on her,” Chloe said after a moment.

“That might be for the best,” Tom said. “Let me grab a box. You can take her her food.”

Chloe picked up her own bag and leftovers, balancing them alongside Penny’s. “Wish this could have been longer but…” she trailed off as Tom nodded. She looked at Harry. “I’m not entirely sure what this is about but I’ve never met anyone who loves music more than Penny, so whatever assumptions you have about her, she’s not a ‘hater.’ She’s also not second-rate. She’s fucking brilliant, but maybe you’re just too dumb to see that.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the restaurant.

Harry picked up his spoon and started pushing the remaining vegetables and bits of tortilla around on his plate. The air was heavy with the unspoken questions on Tom’s tongue. “Go ahead and say it,” Harry said after a moment.

“Is there something going on with you?” Tom asked, point blank. “You’ve been kind of moody lately and I’m here if you want to talk.”

Harry looked up at him. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed that you yelled at my friend like that, but whatever issues you all have it’s not my business and I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, a little more firmly. “I just – I haven’t been feeling great and I’m sure this is just a byproduct of whatever that is.”

“Studio stress?”

“Yeah, that,” Harry said, taking the out he was handed.

“Well, you can always talk to me, man. Just gotta let me know that something’s going on.”

Harry nodded and focused on finishing his lunch.

***

Back in the newsroom, Penny picked at the remnants of her lunch that Chloe had deposited on her desk, refreshing the feeds in her RSS reader while she waited on Darren’s edits. When he Slacked her that he was through, she opened the Google Doc to find that he had completely rewritten it. Ordinarily, she would have fought back, challenging him on everything down to the placement of commas, but she felt too drained after her earlier bout with him and the subsequent battle with Harry.

She signed off on the two rounds of edits as quickly as she could and returned to refreshing her browser.

“Are you ready to talk?” Chloe asked, poking her head over the frosted glass between them.

Penny shrugged. “Not much to discuss. I suck at doing my job. Darren agrees! Harry agrees! So does Walt from who the hell knows! I should just quit while I’m ahead.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “Who is Walt and how does he factor into this equation?”

“Just some jerk on Twitter who also thinks I can’t write for shit.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Chloe said. “That’s how much time you have left to wallow. After that, you have to get up, look in the mirror, and realize that you are a bad bitch who deserves this job more than anyone.”

“I deserve twenty minutes,” Penny shot back. “But thank you for the words of encouragement. I know I just need to move on, but it’s hard to do that when it feels like this happens every fucking day just because Darren thinks I’m an idiot.”

“I know, Pen, but you just have to hang in there.” Chloe looked around before leaning in closer. “I heard a rumor that Darren’s days are numbered so things may be looking up for you.”

“Seriously?” The long running joke of the newsroom was that Darren had witnessed the CEO of the company hit someone with his car and that’s how he managed to land the job and stay gainfully employed for as long as he had.

“You didn’t hear it from me,” Chloe said, sinking back into her desk chair.

On slow days like this one, Penny typically filled her afternoon with source calls and research for future stories but with her motivation subzero, she made her way to the parking garage at 5pm on the dot, ready for a night of wine, takeout, and Friends reruns.

When she reached her car, she was surprised to find Tom there.

“Hey…” she said slowly.

“Hey, I didn’t want to miss you.”

“Should I be worried?” she asked jokingly. “I run into you after years of silence and a week later you’re waiting for me at my car?”

“I promise I’m not following you,” Tom said with a laugh. “I just had to tell you…I know this means nothing coming from me, but Harry isn’t usually like that.”

Penny sighed. “I don’t care, Tom. It’s been a day and I’d rather just move on to prepare for tomorrow’s battles.”

“I know, but it’s important to me that you know the truth.”

“Trying to make sure I don’t start a nasty rumor about your client?”

“No, just trying to make sure you don’t have the wrong idea about a great guy.”

“Great guy?” Penny’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Are you trying to set me up with him now? Because I’m not interested.”

“No,” Tom huffed, rolling his eyes. “Although there could be something there…”

“Nope, not happening,” Penny said.

“Seriously,” Tom said, the earnestness returning to his eyes. “Harry’s a good guy and I think under the right circumstances you all would actually get along.”

“Tom, even if we were the last people on Earth tasked with repopulating the planet, I’d rather let the human race go extinct than willingly spend time with Harry Styles.”

“Wow, that’s uh, harsh and vivid,” Tom said, scratching the back of his neck. “You just need to understand that he’s under a lot of pressure with the new album.”

“New album?” That caught Penny’s attention.

“Shit!” Tom exclaimed, realizing the magnitude of what he’d shared. “That’s entirely off the record. I’m serious, Pen!”

“Woodward and Bernstein had Deep Throat telling them government secrets in a garage, and I have Tom Skoglund blabbing album releases next to my decrepit Toyota…does this mean my Pulitzer is on the way.”

“I mean it, Penny. I could get in a lot of trouble.”

“It’s fine, Tom. I’m not going to tell anyone. I’ll see you later.”

Tom nodded and headed back to the Full Stop office as Penny climbed into her car and pulled out of the garage.

Later that night after two glasses of wine and about 10 episodes of Friends, Penny decided to sign into her work email. She told herself that she wouldn’t check work emails off the clock, but she always gave into the temptation. She scrolled past the usual news alerts and reader feedback until one subject line stopped her cold.

“An Apology.”

She opened it before she realized what she was doing.

Hi Penny, the email began

It’s Harry. I’d like to apologize for the way I acted at Tom’s party the other night, as well as what I said in the restaurant earlier today. You’re right – it was entirely inappropriate for me to behave that way, and I’m sincerely sorry for any hurt or hard feelings that may have come about on your end as a result.

I just wanted to get this off my chest and conscience.

Hope your evening is treating you well.

All the best,

Harry

Penny was speechless, staring at her phone as Ross Geller’s cries of “We were on a break!” and the subsequent laugh track echoed in her empty apartment.

Harry had apologized.

When she recovered, her first instinct was to text Tom, attaching a screenshot of the email.

Did you put him up to this? she asked.

No, came Tom’s swift reply. See what I mean though? Not a bad guy.

Penny reread the email once, twice, three times, taking in the way he’d introduced himself, but left off his last name. The way his writing was devoid of exclamation points. The effort finding her address and sending the email entailed.

She doubted he’d got it from Tom, seeing as Tom had no clue about the message, which meant he’d either pulled it from The Moment’s website or her Twitter bio. Either option meant he’d taken the time to look her up, typing her name into the search bar to find her profile. Knowing that Harry had searched for her specifically made her feel some type of way. She wasn’t sure what.

She didn’t like Harry Styles, but maybe he wasn’t as horrible as she thought.

***

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