#but there were a few rolls that did NOT go in our favor

[midastouch-zaza]

R foursome with Taeyeon, Irene and Karina? With R finishing on their faces and bodies.

[This is such a simple plot but I had to write it before anything else because the idea was just too good 😵‍💫]

SM was in dire straits, like nobody could tell from the outside, but they were so close to fail. Hybe was no intentioned to help its rival, so it was your moment to shine, buying the majority of shares of their agency and keeping them afloat.

There was just a single request you made before completing the purchase: spend a night with three leader of their amazing girls groups. It was a decade or so since SM accepted this kinda of deal, but it was not look like they had so much choice, so in the end they accepted.

The girls attitude towards this part of their job was kinda different:

Taeyeon was in this world long enough to know that this kinda situation sometimes are inevitable, so she just rolled up her sleeves and was ready to make you live the time of your life;

Irene was kinda hesitant about it, she would have maybe preferred to know you better before these kind of stuff, but in the end she just accepted the compromise and did what was better for her group;

Karina was just too scared to lose the job of her dreams. Her dating scandal had been already a big blow to her career, so she didn't need to think at all before being favorable at blowing you.

That same night you reached the best hotel of the town, where there was the suite reserved for you. When you arrived, the view alone made you cock hard inside your tuxedo trousers. The three leader were waiting for you at the center of the room, on their knees and completely naked.

"Welcome, mr. Owner. It's a pleasure to meet you", Taeyeon, in the middle, said before bowing with respect. "...we hope you can enjoy...this night with us", Irene, on her left, said and bowed in such a stiff way. "Tonight we are yours, please use our slutty body as you wish for your pleasure", Karina, on the right, firmly exclaimed, before executing a deep bow, her forehead brushing against the pavement.

You walked right in front of them and they just waited for your command. "I guess it's only fair to begin from the veteran, am I right?", you said with your bulge standing few centimeters from Tae face. "You're always right, mr. Owner.", she agreed, nodding slightly.

Her hands quickly pulled down your pants, keeping her gaze fixed on your eyes. She never interrupted that connection even when she started to kiss your hard shaft. From kissing she switched to licking and then to sucking.

"You have such fantastic cock, mister", she praised you, while her vocalist mouth was doing her magic. You could say your dick was being treated right now, years of singing were really showing while sucking the soul out of your cock.

You really had an hard time standing straight while that gorgeous woman had your cock so deep that she could easily caress your balls with her warm tongue. In the end you could not help but shooting your seed down her throat. "Delicious, as expected by mr. Owner", she peacefully commented, gulping down the rest.

You then moved in front of Irene. She was still skeptical about all of that, you could tell. "I'm curious to know what the most beautiful idol of third generation is able to do", you teased her. "...I'll do my best, sir", she sighed, looking down.

On the contrary of Taeyeon, she never looked in your eyes. She was clearly trying her best to finish as quick as she can, sucking with so much power that you didn't expect from such a tiny woman. However you were not going to cum that easily.

She must had have experience because she knew exactly what to do to making you reach your climax faster. She moved her tongue, going to tease under your peel skin while her slim fingers while fondling your balls.

Those were unexpected moves to handle, so your second blow arrived soon than you expected. She was elegant even while drinking out your milk and popping out your cock clean. At the end she didn't say anything nor looked at you, just nodded quickly.

It was finally the turn of Karina. You moved in front of her, expecting her to be the less skilled of the three, being the youngest one. "I heard the fourth gen is a different breed. Is it true?", you questioned, looking at her, or better, at her big boobs.

"Yes, sir, it's true. Let me demonstrate that", she replied with fire in the eyes. And, holy shit, she was aggressive. She was not sucking your cock, no, she was choking herself on your shaft. She was making such mess, spilling saliva everywhere.

"Holy shit, you're insane", you moaned, feeling her throat clenching around your member. She was glued to your crotch and she didn't seem intentioned to let you until you give your cum her too. And even with all the will in the world, there was no way you could resist to that.

Finally she let you, her mouth still open, making strings of cum hang from her lips, till settling between her boobs. Her make-up was completely ruined and smudged. Seeing her being so slutty, really made you snap.

You grabbed her wrist and you dragged her until the king size bed in front of you. "You two, help me to get undressed", you ordered, and they ran to strip you, noticing the change of your tone. In few seconds you were as naked as them.

Karina was waiting for her fate on the bed. "Did I make a mistake? Was I bad?", she asked, confused by your change of attitude. "No, on the contrary, you were so good that you won the opportunity to be fucked in the pussy first", you said with a grin, positioning yourself between her thicc legs.

"Oh...then feel free to ruin me, sir", she said with a warm smile, feeling happy about your praises. And you were instead happy to accept her suggestion, inserting with ease your cock, lubed by her saliva, inside her warm pussy.

"Oh my God!", she exclaimed, feeling your shaft ravaging her pussy with so much power, the same power she used to deepthroat you. You were basically punching her womb with your thrusts, making her scream in pleasure.

"He surely knows how to treat a lady, doesn't he?", you could Taeyeon murmur behind you. "Yeah, I guess so...", Irene murmured back, biting her lips, almost ashamed to find that wrong scene so hot, her pussy was already getting wet.

In the meanwhile you were still "rewarding" Karina, giving her the fuck of her life. Obviously you couldn't miss the chance to grope and suck on her boobs, drowning your face in her soft chest, while your hips down there were keeping to do their job.

Eventually you felt your climax arriving, it was predictable going at that speed without a single breather. With a last, deep and powerful thrust, you dumped an huge load of seed inside Karina tummy, leaving her there at absorbing her own orgasm.

You were starting to feel a bit tired, you surely needed to slow down and you knew the perfect person to help you in that. "Come here, Irene", you kindly said, after laying in bed. The woman nodded once again and crawled till sitting on your lap.

"I know you like to have the control of the situation, so ride me", you simply told her, caressing her thigh. "Okay, sir", she nodded, once again not looking at you. The situation was starting to bother you but you let her do for the moment.

She aligned her pussy over your cock and slowly sitted on it, taking short pauses to adapt to your girth. Once she was done, her hips started rolling, doing a great job in riding you, but something was missing.

"Irene...look at me", you said in a firm tone. "Sir...I don't...", she tried to protest, but you picked her chin between her fingers and made her look at you. "Look. At. Me.", it was an order, there was no way out from that.

She finally looked at you and...she just melted. She started moaning, finally there was passion in her movements. She was enjoying riding your dick. "Ahhh...this cock...is amazing, mr. Owner. Breed me too", she begged, bouncing with so much rush on you.

You put your hands on her sides, pressing her ass down at every jump, going your cock go so deep inside her that it was basically kissing her cervix, before flooding it with your cum, making her show the most naughty face you could have thought about.

Two down, one to go. "The first to start, the last to end", Taeyeon purred in your ear, appearing out of nowhere. She has enjoyed watching you while you broke her juniores, but now it was her turn for a good fuck.

"Don't worry, I have something special in mind for you", you smirked, caressing her booty and giving it a good squeeze. "Oh...I guess I can't say no to you, sir", she smirked back, licking your lips before, bending forward and spreading her cheeks for you.

"Come, mr. Owner. Come to reclaim this ass", she motivates you with such a seducing tone. In front of that scene, you could only get on your knees and slamming your tired cock inside her asshole. "Fucking hell...so good", she moaned, gripping the footboard of the bed.

Your hands on her hips pulled her against your crotch, making her move erection back and forth inside her back entrance. She could only moan and cry in pleasure for how good you were stretching her.

Nobody really fucked her ass better than you in her long career, she was having an hard time controlling her own body. "Shit, sir, fill my hole, I need more than oxygen right now", she begged, her knucles white closed in a fist.

After such a long night of action you had barely the energy to move, but you had no intention to let her down. So you just gritted her down, gaining speed, dicking her down, until she was laying down on the mattress and you were penetrating non-stop her ass...and like that you finally reached the sixth orgasm of your night.

You needed to recover to not faint, so you went in the luxurious bathroom and had a cold shower. You needed that, your body needed that. Wearing the hotel bathrobe, you returned in the bedroom; there the three Idols were waiting for you on bed.

"Come here, Oppa", Karina called you with a proud smile. "Yes, Oppa, join us in bed", Irene said, now she couldn't stop to look at you. "Come on, Oppa, don't make us wait", Taeyeon offered you a tired yet satisfied smile, her ass still leaking your cum.

They were all laying down, her feet and legs moving lazily in the air. You could not help but having a last hard-on, sitting in front of them. "Let us help you, Oppa", Taeyeon spoke for all of them.

Their tongue moved faster than your brain, your cock receiving a triple attack. It was incredible: Irene was sucking you tip, Taeyeon licking your base and the Karina playing with your balls. Eventually they all switched more than one time.

It was for sure the fastest yet best orgasm of the night, covering their gorgeous faces and magnificent boobs with your seed. You knew your new life at SM was going to be hella good, especially with those three on your side...and bed.

#kpop smut #kpop thoughts #girl group smut #kpop x male reader #girl groups x male reader #red velvet x male reader #red velvet smut #red velvet irene #irene smut #irene x male reader #snsd smut #snsd taeyeon #snsd x male reader #taeyeon smut #taeyeon x male reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #aespa karina #karina smut #karina x male reader

[justalittlebluetiefling]

31 sessions in and we’re finally meeting our “big bad” and we went like an hour over our usual session time trying to get out of this fight in one piece and we lost an important NPC ally... probably. She was Banished and we couldn’t get her back before the other important NPC ally Teleported us out of there. 

I was down in single digits twice, unconscious once, I’m at 11 HP right now. Our fighter is at 7. Our sorcerer/paladin is unconscious. Our artificer is at 15. We... probably lost a whole city as a result of this fight???

It’s also our 1 year anniversary session next time and I’ve officially filled up an entire notebook with notes.

#it was a shit show but also not a shit show? #i don't know how to describe it #it was pretty clearly a no-win situation from the start #but there were a few rolls that did NOT go in our favor #obviously #we can't play again for two weeks and i am NOT happy about it #i need to know what is going to happen as a result of this #erin plays d&d

[readychilledwine]

Mister Grumpy Pantseses

Summary - All you wanted was a day in the vegetable garden with your husbands. Your husbands just wanted to spend the day at each other's throats.

Warnings - a bit of a communication issue trope, grumpy sunshine, reader is Tamlin's sister and uses one of his tactics, jealousy, name calling, Fluff, reader is a literal ray of joy

Prompt - Day 5 - Favorite Tropes

A/N - Happy @polyacotarweek day 5! I am running a little behind, so my other fave trope will be up later, but enjoy a little grumpy azris with their sunshine reader with a bit of miscommunication

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

 “Fucking asshole.”

“Azriel!”

“Bastard.”

“Eris!” You pouted at your mates, sighing as they glared at each other. "Can we please have a nice breakfast? We have so much work to do in the garden if we want the vegetables ready in time to take to the hungry. We need to have energy."

Azriel grumbled an agreement while Eris rolled his eyes. “I am more than happy to spend time with you, foxling. It is that one I can't stand the sight of right now.”

"Eris!"

“Eris, our mate is asking you to stop being an entitled, self righteous, snake for one day. Surely you can handle that.”

“Azriel!”

“You're the one who set me off this morning, Azriel. Must you always run around brooding?” You felt yourself slowly sinking into your chair. The males you love most were both tired, so very tired. They were stressed from their duties and all you wanted was to love and help them.

They had not spent time with just each other in a few weeks. Eris had been too heavily scented on their last night together. It had been Azriel's way of telling you hello, but it lingered, dancing into the air during breakfast at the Forest House the next day. You had glamored it well enough from everyone but his mother. She seemed to see through you and Eris. Almost like she knew you two were hiding something or someone. Eris had caved, telling her everything about Azriel. Her advice had been simple, protect him. 

And Eris had taken that as, “Avoid him.” 

You looked between your two glaring mates, heartbroken at how their sadness was turning to grumpiness. “I'm going to go to the garden. Maybe you two should talk.” You left before one of them could respond then smiled, warding them in the cabin. If they wouldn't talk willingly, you'd force them to!

Azriel glared at Eris, and the heir returned it fully. “Our mate, our beautiful, selfless, and kind mate is outside by herself. Working in that damned garden. Because you want to be a grumpy asshole.”

Eris looked shocked, eyes wide as his jaw dropped. “I haven't done anything! I tried to greet you last night, and you ignored me in favor of y/n. Then this morning you wouldnt even kiss me good morning!”

“Can you blame me? She at least answers when I write.” Azriel watched the hit land, watched as Eris seemed to deflate. 

“I missed you. Regardless of how you feel, I missed you.” Eris stood to go out the door and jumped back as he was shocked. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

Azriel felt his face fall as well, walking to the after he did and jumping back as he was shocked as well. “Took that straight out of her brother's book, didn't she?” 

Eris couldn't help but laugh. “She doesn't even know he did that. I keep her here and away from him and Rhysand lately. It would break her heart all over again."

Azriel then began to laugh too, “She hates when we are mean to each other.”

“Because the world should be sunshine and rainbows.”

“And we are grumpy.” 

The ward seemed to lessen as the two males laughed before moving to the large sliding door that overlooked your garden. You were laughing, the rays of light seeming to want to follow and dance with you. You were such a breath of air. Untouched by the cruelty of the world and sheltered. It had turned you into the happiest female the two of them had ever met. The glass was always half full in your mind if you didn't decide that it was already running over and just a teeny tiny cup. 

Being paired with them, two grumpy and brooding males, seemed unfair to you most days. You were always laughing, always making jokes, and for 300 years, Eris had protected you from it being any other way. When he had taken you to a diplomatic meeting pre-Amarantha though, that had all changed. 

The bond snapping between you and Azriel had been difficult, life changing, and rewarding. He pursued you, regardless of your known status as Eris's wife and mate, and his pursuit paid off. It had kept you safe from Amarantha, and once they all had been freed, the bond between him and Eris snapped. 

That had been a different journey. The two of them were constantly butting heads, constantly arguing, constantly making you cry. It all ended though when Eris had been brave enough to bluntly address the situation. He had pulled Azriel to him, crashing his lips down on his, and the rest became history. Where everyone else saw a fight during the High Lord's meeting, you saw foreplay. 

Azriel sighed, watching you, and then turned back to Eris. “Why did you avoid me? I worried I had hurt you.” 

“You scented me too heavily. She could hardly hide it.”

Azriel nodded, a scarred hand then taking the other male's calloused one. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. She focused on hiding it from him.”

“I am sorry.”

Eris whispered the words back before leaning his head on Azriel's shoulder. “She's so beautiful and happy.”

“You are also beautiful,” Azriel looked him over. “Though, you are as she says, a grumpy pants.”

Eris huffed. “Odd. She says the same of you.” The ward seemed to drop fully. Allowing Azriel to reach his hands out to door and slide it open. “Brat.” He muttered.

“You'll take care of that later.”

“And you will help?”

You smiled as your mates walked out before jumping with glee. “Eris! There's a bunny!”

“Yeah? I'm sure we have many bunnies, my love.”

You glared at him before turning to Azriel. “Azriel!” You paused dramatically. “There's a bunny!”

The shadowsinger looked to the heir, a small smirk on his face as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Show me, starlight.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

Ps- I had to fix the tags! I apologize!

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #azris x reader #azris x you #azris x y/n #poly!acotar x reader #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly+acotarweek d5 #poly+acotarweek 2024 d5

[moonknightsonata]

Book Dilemna

pairing: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader

summary: You’re moving in with the boys, and Marc greatly underestimated how many books you were bringing into their already full of books apartment.

cw: What’s a little bickering between lovers, Marc suggests something blasphemous about books several times. Mostly fluff.

wc: 1413

a/n: Is this a little anecdotal of when I moved in with my boyfriend and he thought I had too many books? Yes. I can only imagine how many books Steven and I could have if we combined our libraries and we would both be in heaven but Marc hates it.

Here’s something a little sweet while I work on something heartbreaking with Marc.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Marc thought Steven had a lot of books. He had naively assumed Steven had the biggest personal collection of books that someone could have in one apartment, and that only libraries or bookstores would have more than him.

That thought left his brain immediately when he was lugging up the tenth box of books from the moving van into his - now shared with you - apartment.

He unceremoniously dropped the box on the table and rolled his shoulders as he gave you an unimpressed look. “Please tell me that was the last box of books.”

You looked at him from the kitchen where you were unpacking your favorite mugs into the cabinets. “Um… how many have you brought up?”

“I think that was ten.”

The grimace on your face let Marc know it was not, in fact, the last box of books. How many books could you even have? Marc wondered if you had even read them all, or if you hoarded them like a dragon. He groaned as he sat at the dining table, leaning his head back on the rest of the chair. “How many more?”

You gave a little shrug, apologizing. “Maybe a few more?”

Marc’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you suspiciously. “A few, like 3 more or a few like another 10?”

“… 5? I’m not sure honestly…. I didn’t keep track when I packed them up!” You defended yourself, putting the last mug away. You made your way towards the door, slipping shoes on. “I’ll go get the rest of them, you sit for a few minutes, you’ve been going up and down for the past hour and a half.” You really did feel bad, Marc was being such a trooper after all, lugging your stuff from the van.

Marc shook his head, already standing up and wrapping his arms around you to stop you from going downstairs to get the boxes. “No, no, I can do it. C’mon, I was Moon Knight - I’ve dealt with ancient Egyptian gods, you think I can’t handle boxes of books?” he teased.

“You’re the one complaining -“ You started, before Marc interrupted you with a kiss. As he pulled away with a grin on his face, you rolled your eyes. He started it.

“Where do you and Steven plan on putting all these books, huh? Steven’s books already have most of the real estate in here.” Marc gestured to the stacks of unorganized books that already claimed every available surface of the apartment sans the kitchen counters and dining table.

“We just have to organize them a bit, we’ll fit them!” Marc raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with an incredulous look on his face. Your confidence wavered a bit under his look and as you took in the inventory of just how many books were around you. But really, you were sure that with a bit of organizing you could fit them all.

“Maybe you’ll have to get rid of some -“ Marc started before he heard two interruptions.

Are you out of your mind? Steven.

“Are you out of your mind?” and you.

If it wasn’t so annoying how you had both screeched at the mere suggestion of losing a couple of books, Marc would’ve found it hilarious that the two of you had been so in sync. He raised his hands in mock surrender, he at least knew when he’d lose a battle. “Okay, okay, forget I said it. Geez, you and Steven hated that idea.”

You smiled triumphantly, both for getting your way of keeping all of your books, and the fact that at least one of your boyfriends understood. Two against one worked in favor, after all. “Good. At least one of you has some sense! Getting rid of books… unbelievable!”

She’s right, Marc. Getting rid of books, that’s just mental. Steven agreed with you, and Marc could see him shaking his head from the corner of his eye in the mirror hanging nearby.

“At what point do you two have too many books?”

There’s no such thing as too many books!

“There’s no such thing as too many books!”

“You two have to stop doing that.” Marc deadpanned, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Let’s just finish getting all of them into the apartment, before we decide what to do with them. I will honestly be shocked if you and Steven can fit all of them on these shelves.” Marc said, opening the front door to go back downstairs.

You trailed behind him, at least to help finish unloading the van so that he wasn’t the only one doing the heavy lifting. “We’ll fit them all, you’ll see!”

-

You definitely were not going to fit all these books.

You and Steven had waited for the next weekend to tackle organizing and shelving both his and your collections.

The day started with the two of you bickering over the proper way to organize the books.

“Definitely by title.”

“Title? But then you could end up mixing the subjects! We should do it by subject and genre.”

“That might work for all of your history books, Steven, but what about my novels? Some are romance, some are fantasy, and some are both! What if one of my romantic fantasies get misplaced into the ‘just fantasy’ section?”

Oh my god, you two are making this so much more complicated. Just put them on the shelves!

Steven’s gaze shot over to the mirror hanging on the wall so quickly, you thought he might have gotten whiplash. “We certainly will not “just put them on the shelves”, Marc! They have to be organized.

Do it by color then.

Steven knew if you had just heard the blasphemous words that Marc just suggested, you would lose your marbles. “Absolutely not.”

“What? What’d Marc suggest?” you asked curiously.

“Organizing them by color.” Steven snorted, even adding an overdramatic touch of shuddering his shoulders. “Can you imagine, love? By color?”

You paused and Steven’s bemused expression fell. “You can’t be serious.”

”I’ve seen pictures online where people have done it, it did look kind of pretty.” You shrugged, nonchalantly. You couldn’t say you would actually humor the idea of organizing books by color, but the absolute conniption it put Steven in almost made you reconsider.

”How would you even find anything?”

“I know what color my books are! Not my fault that most of your history books are all brown and yellow.”

Steven couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His own partner, suggesting organizing books by color. If he wasn’t so in love with you (and if he didn’t think it would be a case of the pot calling the kettle) he would’ve called you mad.

After about ten more minutes of bickering, discussing how to organize the books, you and Steven had agreed that first by genre, and then by title would be the simplest way. It would most likely be the quickest way to find books when they were needed.

It took another three hours just to organize the books into stacks, spread out around the apartment and labeled with sticky notes on what genre they were (which also lead to a few more interesting debates on whether you would sort ‘general mythology’ books with his Egyptology books, or should it Steven just have a ‘mythology’ genre - or should your romance books be separated by ‘young adult’ and ‘adult’).

But by dinner time, you and Steven had managed to get many of the books onto shelves around the apartment.

You were washing the dishes after dinner, when Marc approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. “I’m surprised you two got as far as you did.” Marc had honestly suspected he would come to front and find the apartment overrun with books.

You turned your head towards him, beaming with a prideful gleam that Marc could practically hear ‘I told you so’ coming. “You doubted us?”

”When I could hear you two arguing practically all day? Yes.” Marc chuckled, rolling his eyes.

You returned the eye roll and handed Marc a towel to start drying the dishes you were washing. He took it from you, diligently drying and putting the dishes away. “We weren’t arguing, we were discussing.”

”Mhm. If you say so.” Marc says, a teasing grin on his face.

“Although… I hate to say you were right about one thing.”

Marc’s face lit up and he grinned like a cheshire cat.

“Oh? Do tell.”

”We’re going to have to buy more bookshelves.”

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moonknight #moon knight

[cranberrymoons]

under the mistletoe

prompt: idiots to lovers (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: m word count: 957 words tags: getting together, making out, mild cw for a little bit of outdated language about bisexuality (referring to steve as "part gay")

welcome to Day 8 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

“Like, you hear how fucking stupid that sounds, don’t you?”

Steve shuts the cash drawer with his hip. “It’s not stupid, it’s just –” He folds his arms over his chest. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Robin narrows her eyes. “What, because I’m just so inexperienced?”

“No, because we’re –” He lets out a frustrated breath. “We’re guys. We’re both guys, there’s nothing going on there.” 

Her eyebrows disappear into her bangs, and she opens her mouth, and he holds up his hands. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly. “Just – we’re friends. That’s it.”

“Making out with him while you’re drunk at a party is the opposite of nothing going on.” She shakes him, gripping his arm tight enough that it actually hurts a little. “Oh my god.”

“I told you, it’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “You weren’t even there. It was like, a joke kiss. It was nothing.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Did you or did you not stick your tongue down his throat?”

He feels his face heat immediately. “Yeah, but there was like – mistletoe and shit, you’ve got to –”

“God, and look at you.” She lets him go in favor of sweeping the rest of the returns into the bin to be dealt with in the morning. “You actually like him.”

“I don’t,” Steve says. Then, “I mean – he’s Eddie! He’s our friend, of course I like him.”

She rolls her eyes, shoving the rest of her things into her bag and hiking it up on her shoulder. 

“Whatever, dude,” she says. “I swear to god, if you don’t make out with him for real by Christmas, I’m going to do it for you.”

He makes a face. “Please don’t.”

---

It’s a week later when they talk about it again. 

He’s the one who actually brings it up this time, because everyone’s over at his house for a movie night, and Steve catches Robin in the kitchen, wraps his hand around her wrist and drags her closer to duck their heads together while everyone else carries snacks into the living room.

“Okay, did you see that?”

She widens her eyes. “By that , do you mean the fact that he just touched your actual ass?” she asks. “Yeah, Steve. I saw it.”

He motions for her to keep it down, darting a look at the doorway to make sure no one’s listening. 

“He didn’t touch my ass, it was more like –” He motions behind himself, touching the spot where Eddie’s hand had rested, just for a minute. “Like my back. Right here. Right?”

She shakes her head, giving him a look like she can’t believe he’s not getting it. Which, fair enough. He’d probably be doing the same if things were flipped, but they’re not , and –

“It was here,” she says, reaching around to touch him, hand sliding down until he jerks away.

“Don’t touch my ass.”

She gives him a look. “See?”

He stares at her for a beat, taking a measured breath as he turns it over in his head. 

“What do I do about it?”

She makes a face. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”

“So are you, apparently,” she says. “At least partially, if you want Eddie Munson to touch your ass again.”

He motions again for her to be quiet, casting another desperate look in the direction of the living room.

“Come on,” he hisses. “Just – what do I do?”

She sighs. “Kiss him again,” she says. “And not a joke this time.” She picks up her bowl of popcorn and narrows her eyes at him. “And then pay me a thousand dollars for being right.”

---

And he does. Well – not the thousand dollars, but –

A few nights later, it’s just the two of them, him on the couch in Eddie’s new apartment with Eddie’s lips trailing a searing line up his throat as he arches off the cushions and presses himself closer, hands shaking as he pushes them back through Eddie’s hair.

He gasps, angling Eddie’s head so he can lick into his mouth, and he loses himself in the kiss for a moment, in the way Eddie’s hands drag over his skin, in the warm glow of the TV playing in the background. But it’s something twinkly and holiday-y, and it jogs Steve’s memory enough that he sucks in a breath, pulling away to speak, holding Eddie back gently when he chases after his mouth.

“Just –” He gets drawn into another kiss, eyes fluttering shut. “One thing.”

Eddie hums, grazing light fingers up his side. “What could possibly be more important than this?”

“Nothing, just…” Eddie rolls his hips down, and it makes Steve’s breath stutter in his chest, gasping as he feels the hard line of Eddie settle against him. “Just –” Another kiss. And another. And – “Just don’t tell Robin until next week. After Christmas.”

This actually does cause Eddie to pull away, and he lets out a confused laugh.

His lips are swollen and slick, and his hair is mussed up from Steve’s fingers, and Steve can’t help but drag him back down, groaning into the kiss as he gets lost again. After a moment, Eddie pulls away to ask, staying close enough that their lips brush together when he speaks.

“Do I even want to know why?”

“No,” Steve says. He drags his teeth over Eddie’s bottom lip. “Just – she was right about something. Can’t let her win, though. She wants a thousand bucks. I’m not sure.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head before dipping further down to bite at Steve’s jaw. 

“You two are so weird.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic #robin buckley #stobin

[fiapartridge]

wedding bells | quinn hughes

summary: in which y/n and her fiancé, quinn hughes, plan their long-awaited wedding.

request: [...i read invisible string...and it made me think of when they’re actually engaged and planning their wedding...quinn would love cake tasting and picking out the menu...and the bride loves planning the wedding but...[it's] stressful and she wants everything to be perfect. some minor thing goes wrong and she has a bridezilla breakdown moment and quinn is so sweet and calms her down...]

author's note 💌: eeee i love this request!!!! thank u anon for requesting; it's so cute!

cake tasting

“I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment I learned this existed,” Quinn beamed, his eyes fixed on the road as he exited the freeway. His right hand rested gently on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but grin, happy that he finally wanted to be involved in a part of the wedding planning process—even if today was all about cake.

With a playful tilt of your head, a mock tsk of disapproval escaped your lips as Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be eating healthy for your game next week? How about I eat the cake and you watch.”

“And watch you live out my dream?” he scoffed. “Yeah, the game’s not that important.”

“That game is gonna secure your spot in the playoffs, Captain,” you smirked, playfully poking his arm. You loved teasing him about his captaincy, like saying Aye aye, Captain whenever he asked you for a favor, or your personal fave, So when does the team give you your honorary eye patch and silver hooky thingy? To which he always responds with, Not that kind of captain, babe. 

As Quinn pulled into the bakery’s parking lot, he cupped your cheeks in his hand, his face growing serious, feeling almost like a team huddle. His voice lowered, and his face drew close to yours as he laid out some sort of plan. “I’m gonna eat a lot of cake today, so much that I wore my stretchy pants-”

“Oh, the Lululemon ones that I bought you?” You got them for him as a Christmas gift along with other items. You were happy that he actually wore them outside the house for once. 

“Yes those ones, but we need to stay focused.” You nodded intently, totally focused. “Jack is gonna call you later and he’s gonna ask you if I ate any of this cake today, and I’m gonna need you to lie.”

A burst of laughter escaped you. “You want me to lie to Jacky? About you eating cake? During our cake tasting? Because…”

“Because him and Luke have a bet going on that I’m gonna break my diet for this, and Luke said that if he wins we’re splitting the cash 50/50, so I really need you to lie, baby.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened the passenger door, Quinn doing the same on his side. “I really don’t understand you guys. Like, why not just be normal and bet on who’s winning the next Super Bowl or something?”

Quinn wrapped around the front of the car, intertwining his fingers with yours as you approached the bakery’s entrance. “Did that a few years ago, we each lost $700 to Luke.”

“Jesus, you guys are loaded. The last time my family and I had a bet, we each did $10 and whatever old gift card we had stowed away in our wallets. Apparently mine was from 2015 and the place it was for got shut down for rat poisoning? I don’t know,” you shrugged.

As the hours passed and the 20th cake flavor came around, Quinn felt like his stretchy pants were out of stretch, and you felt like you could take a nap right on top of the table. Cakes were not for the weak, let me tell you that.

“I feel like everything tastes the same now,” Quinn struggled to get the words out. Not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he was trying not to heave and talk at the same time. 

“I feel like I can’t feel my legs,” you replied, a visible food baby proudly displayed on your belly.

Dipping your finger into the frosting of the pink champagne cake, guaranteed to be the most fanciest cake you’ve ever had, you swiped it across Quinn’s nose. “Oops,” you grinned. “I’m just so full; I must’ve twitched or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Quinn smeared the orange creamsicle cake across your face, as if you were donning eye black and dodging defenders past the 40-yard line.

“Oh, you’re getting it,” you laughed, swiping a finger across the blueberry with graham cracker crumble, a grandma’s dying wish, planting strokes on his chin and forehead. “Aw, don’t you look cute?” you teased.

He smirked, getting impossibly close. It was good that the wedding planner and cake baker were in another room chatting, or else they would probably be yelling at you two to get your hands off each other at once. “Wanna make a bet?”

“Hm, does it involve me losing thousands of dollars?” He shook his head. “Hundreds?” Another shake. “Any money?” One more. “Then you’re on, pretty boy. What’s your proposition?”

“We leave right now and you can lick all of this off in the car-”

“Amy!” you shouted for your wedding planner as she came stumbling into the room, afraid something was wrong. “We have to go; family emergency,” you pouted, really selling it. “I’ll see you next weekend, okay?”

“Oh, yeah, okay!” she nodded. “Take care of the family!”

“Will do!” you shouted, dragging Quinn behind you as if you were Lightning McQueen in any of the Cars movies. Boy, were you quick. Even Quinn was shook and he skated with some of the fastest hockey players around. 

“I win,” Quinn whispered, his lips pressed to the crown of your head as you reached the car, pushing him inside. 

“Yeah? Kinda seems like I’m the winner.”

the wedding rehearsal

“Oh, don’t you flower girls look cute?” you smiled, drawing your knees to your chest as you bent down to meet them eye-level. “You ready to walk the runway?”

“Daddy said this was a wedding,” Ella, your brother’s daughter, shyly replied, playing with a couple of petals in the basket. 

“Wedding shmedding,” you grinned, earning giggles from the little ones. “Think of it as a runway, and you’re the models.”

“What about,” Grace, Brady and Emma’s daughter piped up, “it’s a runway and I’m the airplane?”

“Oh,” you said, eyes widening a bit before breaking into a giggle.

“That works too! Just don’t be afraid, okay? If it makes you two feel any better, Uncle Jacky has to walk the aisle and he can barely skate on two feet.”

“Hey!” Jack popped out of the line forming behind the three of you, a procession of earthy-toned dresses and black-and-white suits ready to rehearse for the big day. The sight made you want to cry. Everyone you ever cared about was here for you and Quinn, for your big day. 

It brought you back to the moment you met Quinn, the moment your life truly began. You were friends with Emma, having met in college at Boston University where you also met Brady. You had just gotten out of a year-long relationship and were stressed over midterms, so Emma suggested that you get a “sex-tox” — a detox involving, well, sex. It sounded perfect at the time. Fuck a stranger, never see them again, release some stress, and live your best life.

But that’s kind of hard to do when that stranger is Quinn Hughes. You fell in love with him the moment Brady introduced you. Maybe it was the way his hand lingered in yours for a just a second longer than what’s considered a “normal” handshake, or maybe it was the way his eyes followed you throughout the bar like he was scared that you would come back to the table with another guy’s arm draped over your shoulder, or maybe it was the way he said your name, like it was made for his lips and his voice.

He was just so perfect and now you were marrying him. It all felt so much like a dream, like you’ll wake up one day and everything will be gone. But when you see Quinn laughing with his groomsmen, his eyes immediately finding yours, his arms flying around your body, hundreds of whistles and hoots coming from everyone around you as you tuned them out, your attention solely placed on the man you’ll be able to call your husband as little as tomorrow, you know that this is real, and he is yours, and this is peace.

the wedding day

This is a disaster. The centerpiece flowers are sky blue instead of columbia, your grandma wants to trade seats with William Nylander because she has this newfound obsession with Mitch Marner which would put William Nylander with your grandpa and the weird uncle that always gets way too drunk at weddings but will never admit that he has an alcohol problem, chalking it up to a “one time thing.” Even though we all know that he’s gonna do it again at the next wedding! And to top the shit-cake that is this day, your wedding planner decided to be selfish and break her water overnight, so now she’s in the hospital trying to push a tiny human out of her uterus while you’re here trying not to physically strangle every single person that comes to you with a question.

You were tired, and nervous, and your makeup looks terrible, and you feel bloated, and you don’t feel pretty enough to walk down that aisle, and you don’t feel pretty enough to be with Quinn, and why would he want to be with a girl that can’t even plan her own damn wedding correctly? And you just feel…defeated. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Luke bounced through the door of your bridal suite, his hand hovering over his eyes. 

“You don’t have to cover your eyes, Luke, you’re not the groom,” you muttered, fiddling with the ends of your hair.

“Right,” he chuckled nervously. “Um, so there’s a problem.” 

You closed your eyes, sighing. You felt like your head might explode. What else are we going to add to this ginormous shit storm of a day? Let me guess, Cole already got shit-faced at the mini bar, or Nico got lost on the way here and that car held Jesper, Holtz, and Dougie, or oh! Did your brother get into conversation with Trevor on how he can perfect his alley-oop if he substituted Milano with him? Seriously, what else can get worse than this?

“We can’t find Quinn.”

You’re gonna throw up. Are you already throwing up? Because there’s this tingly feeling that’s bubbling in your throat, and you don’t know if it’s from the copious amount of champagne you consumed last night or the urge to find Quinn and murder him with your bare hands. I think it’s the latter.

Before Luke could say anything else, you dashed towards the door, his calls fading behind you. You didn’t know if you were running to find Quinn or to escape this hell hole for yourself. Maybe Quinn was onto something. Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, were you that naive to believe that someone like Quinn would actually want to marry someone like you?

With your shoes discarded, you found solace on a rock overlooking a small lake near the venue. Your once pristine white gown was now engulfed in the grass, your disheveled hair was poking out of its metal claw clip,  your mascara was noticeably smudged, and the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down your face no matter how hard you tried to stop it. You were nervous about the wedding, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore since the groom is apparently missing and nothing else is working out. Ha! Now they don’t even have a bride. This is terrific.

With crunching leaves, you heard a small, “Hey,” behind you.

You turned slowly to find Quinn, the man of the hour, finally present. You didn’t say anything, fearing that your words would come out with a choke. You couldn’t stop crying.

Quinn settled down on the rock next to you. “I’m sorry for leaving like that, I just—had to clear my head for a bit. I’m a little nervous.”

“Are you getting cold feet?” you mumbled, scared to hear his answer. You knew he loved you, but you also knew that he would put people’s feelings way above his own. You didn’t want to marry him if he was having doubts.

He shook his head. “No.” His hands found yours amid the puffiness of your dress. “I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you’re the woman I want to marry.”

“So why-”

“There’s like 300 people out there waiting to see us get married, and Jack’s already talking about us having a kid in the next couple months, and—it’s a lot, you know? You?”

You furrowed your brows. “Me, what?”

“Getting cold feet?”

You shook your head. “I’m tired,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I feel like everything’s going wrong today. Amy’s out having a baby, the flowers are the wrong shade of blue, Grandma wants to sit next to Mitch Marner, I thought you left, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Quinn cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs, just as he has done time and time before. The gesture never fails to give you a sense of comfort. “Years from now, when we’re old and living in a house in the suburbs, and you’ll probably have an orange tabby cat on your lap, and we’ll be telling stories to our grandchildren about our wedding day, we’re not gonna remember the color of the flowers, or who sat next to Marner, or any of that, okay?”

You nodded.

“We’re gonna remember you and me. We’re gonna remember how much I love you. And we’re probably gonna remember us sitting on rocks, stalling our own wedding day.”

A giggle escaped you because this was all so ridiculous. Quinn was right; you’re not gonna remember everything that went wrong. You and Quinn—that’s all that matters.

You pressed a long, innocent, and probably salty kiss on his lips. He saw you in your wedding dress, a superstitious hockey player breaking a centuries-long superstition, but for once, you didn’t care. 

“You ready to get married?” Quinn grinned, holding his hand out to you. 

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m ready.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fluff #vancouver canucks

[kiarastromboli]

𝕭𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖊𝖘

𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘹 𝘺𝘯

★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: smut, unprotected sex (DON’T DO THAT), alcohol consumption, mention of dangerous driving choking, adrenaline, mean!Matt, rough sex.

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: After a disappointing discovery in the middle of the night, y/n turns to her last resort to get home—her worst enemy, Matt. But things will take a different turn that night.

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Sorry if the ending isn't amazing; I didn't know how to finish it. It's been sitting in my drafts for weeks.

★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

Here I am at my ex's place, again.

As if the four previous betrayals weren't enough, I had to fall back into his arms, again.

It was 3 a.m. We had just come back from a random party, and when he went to shower, I couldn't help but snoop through his phone.

It wasn't new; trust clearly never existed in our relationship, and I was too drunk to stop myself from going further.

Unsurprisingly, while snooping through his phone, I saw that he had continued talking to the girl he had cheated on me with the week before.

I thought he had truly changed this time and that tonight we would be able to have fun in bed! What a fool I was.

Tears didn't even come this time; I was too accustomed to this situation. I simply got up, silently grabbed my things, and grabbed a cheap bottle of vodka from his bar. What? I needed it more than him, and anyway, he probably won't miss it given its price! Then I stumbled out.

"Oh my fucking god!" I sighed as I took a big gulp from the vodka bottle.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket to order an Uber, only to realize that at this hour, the prices were exorbitant.

"Fuck!" I groaned, tossing my head back before straightening up and fixing my hair.

My heels were killing my feet, and my dress was far too revealing for me to hitchhike or even consider walking home.

I went through my contacts and called all my friends, more or less close, who had their driver's licenses, hoping that one of them would be awake. Of course, none of them were.

I took a deep breath, trying not to lose patience and throw my phone on the ground. What the fuck am I supposed to do right now??

I took another gulp; this time, I almost fell to the ground because of the amount of alcohol in my blood.

In reality, I had one option left, one person I didn't want to call. Matt.

I don't even know how I have his number in my phone; this guy is clearly the last person I want to talk to.

I turned back towards my ex's apartment for a moment, sarcastically thinking maybe it's not so bad anyway. It wouldn't be the first time I went straight back to him after he cheated on me.

Then my eyes returned to my screen, where it said ‘Matt’ in my contacts. I owe it to myself to have a little more respect than that.

I sighed before dialing the number; maybe he was sleeping too, maybe he wouldn't even answer, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't want to come pick me up.

I let the phone ring for a few seconds before telling myself that this was all ridiculous and hanging up.

Oh well, anyway, in both situations, I was dissatisfied, so I might as well turn to something I'm used to!

I started walking back towards his apartment when my phone started ringing.

I didn't waste a second to answer, hoping it was one of my friends who had seen my call, but of course, it wasn't.

"Why the fuck are you calling at 3 am, y/n," I heard Matt's raspy voice say, with the muffled sound of music behind him.

"I need you to do me a favor," I said, rolling my eyes, and he started laughing.

"Yeah, sure, bye," he began to say before I cut him off.

"No, Matt! Please, I'm serious!" I said, desperate.

I heard him sigh as if annoyed, but he didn't say anything more.

"Come on, you know I wouldn't have asked you if I had any other option, please," I added, biting my lip.

"It must be something really important for you to beg me like this," he said in a provocative tone, what an asshole.

"I'm not begging you, asshole," I said, getting annoyed. The insult came out on its own, and I can't even blame it on the alcohol because I really wanted to say it.

"Insult me one more time and I'll hang up. You're lucky I even had the decency to call you back," he said condescendingly.

I sighed, gosh, why did I call him?

"What do you want?" he added.

"I need you to come pick me up," I started to say before he burst into laughter.

"I'm busy right now, y/n, I'm not your damn taxi. Aren't you old enough to call an Uber?" he said.

"Do you see the time? It's way too expensive right now!" I complained.

"Well, that's not my problem, so figure it out!" he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. It must have pleased him to know I was in this situation.

"Matt, come on!" I said, grumbling.

"And what do I get out of it?" he replied.

"I don't know, whatever you want, I just want to go home!" I told him.

"God, you're really annoying, y/n," he said, sighing, and I smiled, understanding what that meant. "Where are you?"

"At Ben's," I replied.

"Y/n, are you fucking kidding me? He lives on the other side of town!" he said, getting annoyed.

"You're a fucking liar, Matt, you live barely 15 minutes from here!" I said, furrowing my brows.

"I told you I'm busy, I'm at a party. You're making me go out of my way to take you home!" he said, still angry.

"You know what, Matt? Go fuck yourself if you're going to leave a completely drunk girl in the street in the middle of the night," I snapped, furious, before hanging up. What a fucking asshole! I hate him so much!

I kicked a rock lying there, feeling anger bubbling up even more.

I brought the bottle to my lips again, this time taking three big swallows. If I had to go back to Ben's, I'd need a lot more alcohol than this.

I was about to start walking back to my ex's apartment when I felt my phone vibrate again. It was Matt, again.

"Matt—" I started to say before being cut off by his voice.

"Don't move from where you are, I'm coming," he said, sternly, before hanging up.

"I—" I started to say before realizing he had hung up, then I sighed.

Ultimately, I didn't even know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

I stumbled over to the bench across the street and sat down.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I sighed, looking up at the sky before taking another drink.

At this point, I'd even prefer to go into an alcohol-induced coma! It might sound exaggerated to you, but believe me, it's not!

As far back as I can remember, the relationship I had with Matt was contentious.

It all started in high school when I met Nick, who quickly became a close friend of mine. Then I met Chris and Matt, his brothers.

At first, everything seemed fine until Matt decided to start hating me overnight for no reason.

Anyway, since then, he became cold and distant, which really hurt me, especially since at that time, I had a crush on him. So, I quickly started to dislike him, and since then, nothing has changed; we've remained ‘best enemies.’

After waiting for about 30 minutes, I saw Matt arrive in his car and park right in front of me.

"I thought you were on the other side of town?" I said without moving from where I was.

"I hurried; I wasn't going to leave a drunk girl alone on the street," he replied, referencing what I had told him earlier.

"Mmhm, feeling guilty, huh?" I said with a smirk.

"Shut the fuck up and get in the damn car, y/n," he said, getting annoyed.

"Fuck you," I said, squinting.

Let's just say the amount of alcohol I had consumed in the meantime hadn't made me any nicer.

"Okay, that's enough; figure it out yourself, y/n," he said, starting the car again.

"No! Okay, I'm kidding! God, you take everything too seriously!" I said, chuckling, and quickly got up to reach his car.

Once I reached the door, I tried to open it, but it was locked. "Matt, open up."

"Ask me nicely, and we'll see," he said.

"Don't be a pain; just unlock the door for me!" I said, continuing to try to open it.

He didn't say anything and simply crossed his arms, looking at me, waiting for my response.

I sighed before saying what he wanted to hear, "Please, Matt, open the door for me."

"See, wasn't that hard," he said with a smirk before unlocking the car.

I opened the door and got in.

"Nice accessory," he said judgmentally, referring to my half-empty bottle.

I just gave him a dark look.

"So, what is it this time? Wait, let me guess, he cheated on you again, right?" he said amused.

"Go fuck yourself, Matt," I said, crossing my arms and looking outside.

"It was with who this time, one of your friends again?" he said, chuckling, and I didn't respond.

"No, it's his neighbor, isn't it? He slept with his neighbor? What’s her name again?" he said with that damn smirk.

"Can you please start your fucking car? We're not going to stay here all night, damn it!" I snapped.

"Hmm," he simply hummed, starting the car. "Anyway, I'll end up finding out because you always end up crying in Nick's arms," he said, shrugging.

After that, I didn't want to open my mouth again; he had already annoyed me enough. I just kept my gaze out the window in silence, hoping the journey would pass quickly. And indeed, it was going to pass quickly considering the speed at which he was driving.

"Matt!" I said, gripping the handle of my door when he took a very tight turn at a dangerous speed.

He didn't respond. "You're drunk," I said, looking at him.

"I'm not," he replied without looking at me.

"Yes, you are," I said, frowning.

He didn't respond, so I continued, "You always drive like this when you're drunk."

"Y/n, I told you I was at a party. Yes, I had a drink or two; otherwise, I would never have agreed to come pick you up," he said, scoffing.

"That's bad," I said.

"What, because you're sober right now?" he said, laughing, looking at the bottle on my lap.

"But I'm not driving," I said, raising my voice.

"Can't you be a little grateful for once in your fucking life, y/n," he said, hitting his steering wheel.

I flinched when he did that and stayed speechless, looking at him.

"It's not like you had any other options, did you?" he said, looking at me sharply, then accelerating.

"Matt, you should keep your eyes on the road!" I said, starting to panic.

But for some reason, maybe it was the alcohol, but I couldn't help but find it exciting, this mix of adrenaline and anger. It was like a Molotov cocktail with alcohol added.

"Why, what's wrong?" he said, maintaining his speed, and I looked at him, not knowing what to say.

"Are you scared?" he said, smiling.

"Matt!" I yelled as we narrowly missed a car while passing it.

"Does it scare you?" he continued.

I felt the tears welling up; I was lost, I was scared, but I liked it.

"Answer me, y/n!" he said, accelerating even more, the situation becoming more than dangerous.

"Yes!" I screamed, closing my eyes. "Yes, I'm scared!" I said, feeling a tear run down before opening my eyes again.

"But you love it, look at you, you can't help but watch," he said amusedly.

His eyes slid over my thighs, which were pressed together, and it made him smile.

"You really like this, don't you?" he said, slowing down when we arrived in front of my house.

The adrenaline still hadn't subsided; it was too much for me. I broke down in tears before opening the door and quickly getting out of the car; I felt like I was suffocating.

He stayed in his car for a moment, seeming hesitant, but he eventually turned off the engine and got out.

I immediately started walking towards my house, and he followed me, shouting, "y/n! y/n, stop!"

I didn't listen to him and hurried to grab my keys. "y/n, I'm sorry! Please!" he said, running towards me.

I opened the door, and he reached my side at that moment. "y/n, come on—"

I turned around, and without thinking, I kissed him.

I had been dying to do it.

And even though it killed me to admit it, I had been dying to do it for so long.

He didn't disconnect our lips; on the contrary, he deepened our kiss, leading us into the house backward.

Our tongues battled for dominance for a long moment, our teeth clashing. Without paying attention, my back collided with the wall of my living room, causing me to groan in pain, which allowed him to win our dominance battle and slip his tongue into my mouth.

I quickly forgot the pain when he grabbed my throat with his hand and pressed the lower part of his body against mine.

His lips left mine to place open-mouthed kisses on my jawline while applying pressure on my neck to keep me pinned against the wall.

"I knew you'd like that. I wonder how wet you are right now," he whispered in my ear, making me sigh with pleasure.

It would have been weird if I weren't drunk, I mean, I’m making out in my living room with the guy I like the least on earth, and honestly, it seems even more exciting this way.

"Ouch, fuck!" I moaned when he dug his teeth into my neck to leave his mark.

He reconnected our lips in an even more ravenous kiss after that, and I rushed to remove his clothes, starting with his top.

I slid my hands down his stomach to his belt to remove it. I was about to take off his pants too, but I was caught off guard and distracted when he slid his hand between my legs to feel the wet spot on my panties.

"So fucking wet, I knew it," he said with a smile before starting to massage my clit through my panties.

I moaned and dropped my head against his chest when he slid his hand under my panties to make direct contact with my pussy, making me shiver and grab his arm for support.

He wasted no time inserting two fingers into me and massaging my clit with his thumb.

"Fuck," I whimpered against his chest at all this sudden stimulation.

"Look me in the eyes, y/n," he ordered, but I was so lost in my pleasure that I didn't respond.

He increased the pace and grabbed me by the throat with his free hand this time. "I told you to look me in the eyes when I fuck you with my finger, y/n," he said firmly, and I moaned at the force with which he squeezed my neck and the speed at which his other hand moved between my legs.

"Mmph," I whined, struggling to keep my eyes open, and he seemed to love it judging by the smirk on his lips.

"You're such a slut for letting me do all this to you when you claim to hate me every day," he said, pressing against my ear to degrade me, and it only turned me on even more.

My legs started to weaken, and I felt my orgasm approaching. Without meaning to, I clenched my legs around his hand.

"Keep your fucking legs open, slut," he ordered, tightening his grip around my throat.

"Matt, I'm going to come," I told him, my face contorted with intense pleasure.

"No, you're not," he said, removing his fingers from me and releasing his hold on my throat, causing me to almost fall forward and moan at the lack of stimulation.

I looked at him confused, and he knelt in front of me, slowly removing my panties without breaking eye contact.

He then began kissing the bottom of my thigh, slowly and gently moving up towards my pussy. "I want you to come on my face," he said before burying his head between my legs under my dress.

I gasped in surprise as he did so, gripping onto his hair before letting my head fall back against the wall behind me.

He circled my clit with his lips and immediately started sucking, causing me to cry out in pleasure. I was already extremely close to the edge, but I've always been very sensitive.

"Oh my god," I whispered, placing my hand over my mouth when I realized how loud I was moaning.

And it seemed to amuse him because I felt him chuckle between my legs.

He shook his head between my legs, teasing my sensitive clit with his tongue. Just the sight of his head like that under my dress was enough to push me over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm going to come, Matt, I—oh god," I moaned again, and he slightly lifted my dress to watch me. That was the last straw for me; when I saw his piercing blue eyes, I immediately came on his face, letting out a string of curses and moans.

He then straightened up, and I threw myself at him to kiss him.

He took a step forward, slamming me violently back against the wall, and it would be a lie to say that I didn't love it.

This time, uninterrupted, I ran my hand over his pants to feel him through his jeans.

And he intensified our kiss as I started unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper.

Then I separated our lips, and he looked at me confused.

I looked at him, biting my lip, and began to kneel down, but before my knees could reach the floor, he suddenly grabbed my throat, making me gasp in surprise. "Matt—" I struggled to say because he was squeezing so tightly that I couldn't breathe.

"I can't wait, y/n. I want to feel you around me now," he said, releasing my throat, and I took a breath.

"Do you have a condom?" he asked, moaning as I continued to feel him through his pants.

"No, but... I want it inside..." I said timidly, and he widened his eyes.

"Please, I—" I started to say before he grabbed me by the hips and turned me against the wall, making me sigh in surprise.

"You're going to make me come before you even touch me if you keep that up, baby," he said in my ear, starting to unzip my dress from behind, but it got caught in the seam.

He didn't seem to have much patience because right after that, he ripped my dress off my body, tearing it, and I sighed in surprise at the force of his action.

"Matt!" I said, still facing away from him but turning my head toward him, and I saw him smile.

"Oh, it's okay, darling, I'll buy you another one," he said, slapping my ass and leaving a kiss on my shoulder as he removed his pants and boxers.

He trailed his lips up to my neck, leaving hot kisses, all the while taking his member and rubbing it against my entrance, causing me to let out small moans.

"I'm going to fuck you so well that I promise to make you forget about your ex," he whispered as he gradually inserted his member into me.

My jaw dropped, and my brows immediately furrowed at the burning sensation; he was much larger than Ben, without a doubt. "Ngh—Matt," I moaned when he hit the depth.

"That's right, say my name, get used to screaming it because this definitely won't be the last time I fuck this pretty pussy," he said, groaning in turn before starting to move inside me.

He gripped my hips with his hands, digging his fingers into my skin, and when he began to pick up the pace, I arched even more, hungry to feel him even deeper inside me than he already was.

"Fuck, I knew your pussy would be perfect for me," he said, slapping my ass before thrusting a bit harder.

"God, Matt—Oh—" I cried out as he started hitting that sensitive spot inside me, making me see stars.

He chuckled at my moans before grabbing my hair to pull it and turn my head so I could look at him.

"You look so pretty just like that, all for me," he whispered before kissing me and wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me in place and go even faster.

Our kiss was really messy because he was fucking me so well that I struggled to concentrate and not moan.

"Fuck, I need to see your face!" he said, separating our lips and pulling out abruptly, making me moan at the lack of contact.

Before I could react or understand what was happening, he turned me to face him again before placing his hands behind my thighs to lift me up and insert his cock into me again, and I moaned at the new angle.

"I've never tried this position before; let's see how long we can hold it like this," he said, chuckling before resting my back against the wall behind me.

I chuckled too before wrapping my legs around his hips, and he resumed his pelvic movements, making me roll my eyes and let my head fall back, driven by my pleasure.

He took the opportunity to bury his head in my neck and kiss me, so I lost my hands in his hair, playing with it and pulling on it.

"You smell so fucking good," he whispered against the skin of my neck, and I moaned.

"Matt," I said in a high-pitched moan, and he looked up at me.

"Mh?" he said, continuing to abuse my pussy with his deep thrusts.

"MmmMmmh-" I hummed with my eyes closed, unable to form a coherent sentence due to the overwhelming pleasure engulfing me.

He licked his lips, chuckling, "I'm fucking you dumb, huh?" he said proudly, and I didn't respond, so he started thrusting harder and more brutally.

I opened my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching, and lowered my head towards him, grabbing his face with both hands. My mouth was open, emitting only sinful moans.

His eyes locked with mine, and he realized what was happening, so he increased the pace even more.

"Matt!" I screamed louder than before.

"Come! I know you want to come for me, y/n!" he said breathlessly. I could feel him twitching inside me; he wasn't far behind.

"F-fuck! Mphh Matt-" I moaned before tightening my pussy around his cock and climaxing, dropping my head forward.

He grabbed my face with one hand to kiss me before he also climaxed after a few more thrusts.

He then rested his head on my shoulder without letting go of the back of my thighs, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

We were both out of breath.

He gently let my feet touch the ground, and I kept my arms around his neck to support myself.

"Bath?" I asked him, smiling.

"Only if there's a second round," he said, chuckling before kissing me.

★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #best enemies

[eldritcmor]

IDEA!! You know how in most legends and myths involving dragons there’s often a hoard the dragon is protecting? What if the 141 was the hoard of someone (or something) not entirely human. They masquerade as a human and fight alongside the 141 but they’re insanely protective of them and have dragon like abilities. Heat and smoke never seem to bother them. Sometimes the 141 can see the shimmer of scales out of the corner of their eye but when they turn to check it out all they see is their “human” teammate. Maybe they have reptile like tendencies and prefer to have meals alone because they’re “insecure” about their eating habits (they’re actually eating nonhuman food like raw meat or something). Idk, I just really like the idea of the 141 being oblivious to a monster in their midst. Also I really REALLY like dragons

Gaz looked up as the sharp screech of twisting metal met his ears. The guard at his door poked his head out to see what was happening only to jerk and slump, a rather large piece of rebar right between his eyes. Gaz did not want to meet whatever the fuck did that and so scooted the chair he was tied to as far back into the shadows as he could. He tried to keep his breathing even but as the steady clomp of boots on metal grew closer, he couldn't cut it. A hand curled around the door frame and for a second, Gaz would forever swear he saw gleaming copper claws. He blinked and suddenly you were in front of him. Kneeling low as you confidently cut through the rope around his ankles.

"Breathe Sergeant. I got you." Gaz practically melted at the familiar rumble of your voice. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding as you moved to the bindings on his chest. Then he was confused.

"It's good to see you lieutenant, but how did you get here?"

You hummed as you finished cutting through his bindings and hauled Gaz to his feet. While there wasn't really any major damage that you could see, you still didn't like finding him like this.

"I called in a favor from an old friend. For all intents and purposes, this was never sanctioned. Now before you go thinking too hard, the others did try to come as well. Unfortunately, they got placed under the equivalent of house arrest by Shepherd. Now come on, our ride is waiting."

Gaz rolled the information over in his mind as you led him through the little facility. Everywhere he looked was some form of evidence of a fight. It looked like something had absolutely ripped through their defences.

--

Ghost startled as he entered the little kitchen of their current base. It was incredibly late at night and he hadn't expected anyone to be awake. You were sitting on the counter, ripped open package of red meat in one hand and a piece of meat midway to your mouth. Ghost raised an eyebrow and you slowly lowered the little chunk back into the tray.

"is this why you never eat with us?" Your fellow lieutenant asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards. You have a little noncommittal shrug as you set aside your dinner. Ghost popped the mug into the microwave and pulled out a few teabags.

"No need to stop on my account, lieutenant." The microwave beeped and ghost retrieved his mug before plopping the teabags in and promptly exiting the kitchen.

--

Soap raised an eyebrow as you stripped off your jacket and bundled it into your pack. The team was visiting Farah and the desert heat was harsh on all of them. Even Price had taken refuge under the nearest shade cloth. You however just seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat. He thought the heat was finally getting to you. That is until you climbed up on huge flat rock, laid in direct sunlight and promptly fell asleep. You were fucking basking while the rest of the team was baking in the sun. Soap stomped over, sun be damned, and climbed right up beside you. He purposely blocked the sun as he kneeled next to you and raised his hand to slap down in the dead center of your back. That is until your hand shot out and easily caught his wrist. You two briefly wrestled for a minute or two before soap yelped as you scooped him up over your shoulder and carried his ass back over to the others. Farah laughed as you deposited Soap right at Price's feet. A simple no left your mouth in a sort of grumbling growl as you went back to your rock. Soap pouted in the shade but didn't move to try again, as Price handed him a canteen of water.

--

Price watched from the door as you wrestled against Ghost, with Soap and Gaz sitting on the side. You two were dirty fucking fighters. Anytime Ghost flipped you on your back, you'd yank him by his mask or shirt to the side. Anytime you'd flip him on his back, he'd take his nails down any piece of exposed flesh in order to get you to rear back and topple. Price thought it was like watching two feral ass badgers fighting. He decided to intervene when Ghost pinned you and his fingers were just a hair too close to your mouth. Your fangs were on display.

"That's enough boys!" He watched in amusement as You and Ghost scrambled to your feet. "Go clean up, all of you. We got a briefing in twenty. Except you, Drake. I need to talk to you." The rest of the squad exited the training room. Price could practically feel the gossip spinning in their heads.

Price turned to you once the team was down the hall and out of earshot. "We need to talk about that little trip you took."

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. "Little trip, sir?"

"The one you took while the rest of us were under house arrest. The one where you somehow returned with the single missing member of this task force."

You simply hummed, a noncommittal sound, as you tapped your wrist. Price shook his head at your silent question. "Ah my most recent leave. What's the issue?"

Price sighed. "Unfortunately, the higher up want to know how Gaz returned." Price grabbed your shoulder and pulleed you down to his height. "You were not involved in anyway, clear?"

You groaned as the grip on your shoulder tightened. "Loud and clear, sir."

"Good man, now get. I'm sure the others are wondering what kind of ass chewing you just got." Price watched as you walked out the room, defeat lining your shoulders. Good, no need to trouble anyone else with your little rescue mission. Price glanced down at his hand. He hadn't meant to grab you that hard but he had to get the point across. There was a red lined imprint of scales in the center of his palm.

#call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #eld writes #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #taskforce 141 #captain john price #eldritch reader #monster reader #dragon reader

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hi beautiful, are you ok? You could write where Gavi or Pedri (your preference) has a "best friend" who is really in love with him and purposely creates a situation where he is confused who to believe, leaving the hurt reader not wanting to see him for a while. It can be a anguish with a happy ending, please :) thank you.

Part 2 (Angsty Version)

Part 2 (Happy Version)

Warnings: Pretty long, some swear words, burns with coffee, angst, kinda asshole! Pepi. Don't really know about that😭💀 no proofread💀 I need to get better on the publishing time😭💀

Believe What You Want -P.G8

Summary: He doesn't know who to believe and you just can't take it.

Pedri knew about your non-liking towards his best friend, Victoria and often both of you had some exchange of words for it. But it wasn't your fault.

You were always nice and open to meet your boyfriend's family and close friends. She, being one of them. Nervous as fuck but you were positive to like all people around him, since you planned to stay by his side for a very very long time, only to be met with a eye rolling and a push on the shoulder from her part.

Since that very first moment you knew that a friendship with her would never work. In fact, it would never happen. And that little thought was proven correct when a few hours later you were both alone as the guys went to buy some food, she went ahead and told you how you and Pedri were never going to work, how he was only using you like a little toy and soon will be left forgotten, etc...

However, once the guys returned back, Pedri could read that something had happened while they were gone, you were serious, you weren't smiling as big as you were before and remained quiet most of the evening

Not only did he noticed that but the guys also did.

"Are you okay?" Adrián, his cousin asked you, you lifted your head to look at him and nodded softly

"Just a bit tired and with a headache" You murmured as they nodded understanding, they left you be for the rest of the evening but Pedri did knew you well.

"What's wrong?" He asked as soon as you both got into his car

"¿Qué?" (What?)

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Why would there be something wrong?"

"You're not tired and you don't have a headache either" He said as you sighed looking down at your lap, you could lie to everyone... To everyone but him. "Mírame, por favor, bonita" (Look at me, sweetheart, please) You didn't so he sighed and with his hand pulled your chin up to meet his eyes "What's wrong?"

You stayed quiet for a few seconds before you took a deep breath "Victoria... She- I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me" You tight-lipped smiled

"She's difficult at the beggining but once she gets confidence and spends more time with you, she changes" You shook your head

"I don't think so, Pedro..." You sighed "She said some things about our relationship" He furrowed his eyebrows

"Like?"

"Like... You were only playing with me like a little girl with a doll and that once you get tired of me you'll throw me away, that things between us will not last... You want me to keep going?" Pedri stood still for a few seconds before laughing softly and shaking his head

"She probably was testing you. She also adores making jokes"

"That seemed pretty real to me, Pedro"

"She was just joking. She often does that when one of us brings a girl around, to see if she's good or worth... If you didn't screamed back at her then you passed her test"

"Yes but she wasn't joking"

"Relax, bonita. You'll soon see she opens up to you"

You pushed his hand out of your chin and rested your head into the window, both of your hands crossing around your chest. You shook your head

"Can you take me home, please?"

"I thought you were staying with me tonight?"

"Wanna go home, be with my dog and alone for a little while" You said softly not looking at him but rather looking at the houses that were in his friend's villa

"Are you mad?"

"I am tired and want to be with my dog"

"We can go pick her up and-"

"In my house" Pedri sighed nodding and put his hand on your tight but you crossed your legs before he could touch you. He got the hint and pushed his hand into his lap

"Entiendo" (Got it)

The rest of the drive was silent with only the radio playing up. Your chest was tight and all you wanted was your boyfriend to be at your side and not simply brushing it off

"¿Cómo puedo arreglarlo?" (How can I fix it?) He said right after he parked at the front of your house; you shrugged your shoulders

"Don't know" You sighed "As much as Victoria might love each and every single one of you, guys... I can assure you that what she said to me today and the way she said it, it wasn't a joke" You said "I'm a girl and I have a male best friend too. But I wouldn't say those kind of stuffs just as a friend or to see if she's worth and good for him" You shook your head "Es más, ni siquiera le diría algo de ese estilo a ella" (I wouldn't even tell her something like that)

"She likes you" You said after a few more seconds "And that's it"

"Mi vida, please-"

"I'm not making anything up" For the first time you looked at him "I'm a girl, I know things only a girl can. She likes you, Pedro"

"But I don't like her"

"Then let her know that" You said taking off the seatbelt, you grabbed his face and kissed his cheek, feeling his low stubble on your lips "Te quiero, guapo" You said softly and without the happy emotion you always carry when around your guy.

"Y yo a ti, bonita" He kissed the palm of your hand "I'm sorry for her, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable because of it. I'll talk to her" You nod before getting out of the car "See you tomorrow?" You nod your head

"See you"

Your second meeting with Victoria was pretty normal but you could guess that she didn't wanted to make a bad impression with Pedri around and the fact he was eyeing both of you up and down, all of your expressions and acts, could've pulled her back a little bit.

"I was just joking!" She exclaimed a little too loud on your ear as you grimaced lightly "Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, it's just a little something I like to do!"

"Yes, well... It's not nice, please don't do it" Her response was an eye roll

"You're boring, girly" She said laughing as you tight smiled "Pepi, come on! We gotta show who the masters are!" And with that she took Pedri's hand and dragged him with her to play some ping pong against Adrián and Jesús (one of Pedri's friends)

The third one was your least favorite, you were on your way to the Ciutat Esportiva to pick Pedri up but first you went ahead and grabbed some coffe and pastries for the two of you to eat on your way home.

You were done with your order and were actually waiting for your two cups of coffee

"Be careful, miss" The girl said smiling softly "It's really hot"

"Thank you, I got it" You smiled and gave her a tip "Have a nice day"

She smiled back at you and once you were in the middle of walking out of the shop, you saw a woman come up to you and once you realized who it was, you felt your coffee being poured all over your front

"¡Puta madre, joder!" You screamed out in pain as people gasped and the same girl who attended you came rushing to you

"Miss what happend?" You couldn't speak at the tremendous pain you felt

"Some girl pushed her coffee up to her" A little boy said as you tried not to cry

"¡Cambiadle la ropa, ya!" (Change her clothes, now!) A woman said worried

"I got a spare shirt" A guy said going out running

"Échale un poco de agua fría" (Put her some cold water) An old man said

"Do you know who she was? Why would that girl do that?" The same girl asked worried taking you inside

"My boyfriend best friend's" You replied hissing feeling the cold water she was putting on you run down your body, it was both relaxing and painful "She hates me"

"Did you do something to her?"

"Date the guy she's in love with"

...

"Amor, if you couldn't pick me up, you could've told me" Pedri said once you got inside your house "I had to grab a cab since everyone left earli-¿Qué mierdas te pasó?" (What the hell happened?)

"Victoria, happened" You replied angrily "I was on my way to pick you up and I stopped at that little coffee shop we always go. She was there too and she poured on me my two cups of hot coffee, I had to go to the hospital to give me something for the burns"

"Oh my god"

"What?" You asked

"I can't believe you"

"Huh?"

"Victoria was all day long with the guys... I just ended a facetime with them"

"No, she wasn't. I'm not blind, Pedro. I know how her face is, I know how she looks like and I know what happened" You replied angry, you were angry at the fact he wasn't believing you "I don't have any reasons to hate her. She, on the other hand, does"

"She doesn't like me. I talked to her. It's crazy"

"No it isn't, Pedro. Otherwise, why the hell she would have dropped boiling coffee on me? Because she was testing me to see if I'm good or worthy for you?"

"I'm not up for this"

"You're not up for anything related to her lately"

"It's just something nonsense, Y/N! ¡Ella es única y solamente mi mejor amiga! ¡No tenemos sentimientos románticos, ni por su parte ni por la mía!" (We have no romantic feelings, neither on her part nor on mine!)

"Leave"

"What?"

"You're not up for this and you think I'm speaking nonsense, you can leave"

"She's not like that"

"And I'm not a liar, Pedro. I don't go around to get in trouble with people and you should know it. We've been together for a whole year and I have never lied to you. Not even once. I don't have anything against her but she does have something against me and if you can't see it then leave, but don't make me look as if I'm crazy because I'm not"

"Who's hoodie is this?"

"What?"

"This isn't mine and surely isn't yours. Who's this?"

"A guy offered me his hoodie, my shirt was drenched in coffee and if I stayed in it the only thing it would do was burn me more and I can't walk around the streets of Barcelona in bra, so I took it"

"Sure" He said nodding but you knew he didn't believed it

"I'm not lying, Pedro!"

"You're not lying, got it. But you want me to believe the person I have met since I was 10, the person who has supported me through everything is hurting the one I love the most?"

"Yes, because that's exactly what's happening!"

"You're unbelievable" Pedri shook his head "She's not like that, she wouldn't hurt the one I love the most! She's my friend, friends who are happy with each others happiness and she knows you're mine"

"But she doesn't want me to be your happiness, she wants to be your happiness. You're too oblivious to notice it!"

"I'll take up on your advice, we'll talk once you're calm"

"I can't be calm!"

"Nos vemos" (See you later)

You laughed in disbelief and shook your head. Your turned around to see Felicity, your black cream dachshund of two years laid on the couch who once heard the door closing started barking and surprisingly started to pull the space next to her. You smiled forgetting for a few seconds of your anger.

"Don't fall in love with any boy, yes?" You said to her petting her as she crawled on top of your lap "You do know how to make me feel better, Feli" She licked your clothed chest and smell it repeatedly "Mommy got burn" You took off the hoodie, your bare chest in the air.

Your bra was also drenched, the doctor who took care of you told you it was better if you took it off, she recommended you some creams and gave you a recipe to follow so the burning marks could fade away quickly.

You sighed and sad smiled when your little girl licked at your stomach "Mommy will go and take a shower. Will you help me with the creams? Or will you make some dinner?" She looked at you "Or how about I do both?" She barked and you smiled "Girls night"

...

"Fer, I'm not going" You said shaking your head over the phone, even though he couldn't see you

"Come on, it's my birthday"

"I'm going to sound like a proper bitch but I'm glad"

"You did sound like a bitch"

"Pedri will be there and you two share the same group of friends, so it's more than obvious she'll be there. I'm not going"

"Come on, Y/N/N" Fer said "I will not leave you alone for a single minute but you need to come. I need my sis"

"I'm not sure if I'm still being your sister-in-law after everything"

"You'll be my sis one way or another. Although I'd love both" You laughed lightly "I'm not saying he's right and I'm not saying you're completely right. But eventually you two need to talk about this, you guys love each other more than anything. You can do this, you can fix this"

"I don't think we can fix it, not this time"

"You always can" Fer said as you sighed "He's been a mess without you, he's not himself"

"He has his best friend to help him with that"

"He doesn't need a best friend, he needs to open his eyes and see the right thing before it's too late" Silence went over the line before he spoke up again "You may have fight, ugly ones... But you always make it out. Love and communication it's your guys thing"

"Things change, Fer. You know?"

"Not you guys" You shook your head

"Everything can" You both fell silent before Fer sighed

"Please come. If you don't want to talk to him, don't. Just be there for me. I won't lose my friendship with you"

"If you ever leave my side even if it's just for one second, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine, González"

"Deal" You heard the smile on his face "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 5"

What were you getting yourself into?

...

"Long time not to see you, missy" Adrián said as you stepped outside their backyard. You smiled softly opening your arms to hug him, you hissed softly when he hugged you tighter, the fabric of your shirt started to hurt on your aching chest "Sorry, Fer told us you got burnt" You smile softly shaking your head

"It's fine. I'm good now" Adrián tight smiled before rubbing your shoulders a few times making you laugh

His girlfriend, Anabella came and hugged you as well and soon the guys were greeting you with smiles, hugs and jokes. Until you got to Pedri.

"Hola" He said softly

"Hola" You said

"Didn't know you were going to be here today"

"Neither did I" You admitted "I was planning to make up some excuse but Fer didn't have it" Pedro smiled softly

"Glad he didn't" You hummed softly crossing your arms over your chest "How are you?" You sighed

"Been better" You said "You?"

"Awful" You looked at him softly "I missed you... A lot"

"I missed you too, Pepi" You said "A lot as well"

Four days you had not speaking to each other, no calls, a few texts but in the end a few texts meant nothing with everything it had to be said...

"I'm sorry" He said after a few seconds. You sighed and hugged him tightly not really caring about the ache this time

"We need to talk" You said and it was his turn to sigh before hugging your waist tightly "We need to fix us because we can't keep going this way, I love you too much to let you go"

"Glad to know we are on the same page though..." You smiled inhaling his scent "We do need to fix us. I don't want us like this" That's all he said and after a few seconds of hugging, you separated enough from him to join your foreheads

"Shall we go home after this party? We can talk in peace and be just you and me" He nodded

"That's nice" He smiled softly "Can we go now?" His comment made you laugh "I really really want to fix things between us"

"As much as I want to, we can't. We can't just leave your brother"

"Bueno, pero que él es bastante mayorcito para cuidarse solo" (Well, but he is old enough to take care of himself)

"It doesn't matter. I'm here because of him. I wasn't going to come here, Pedro"

He sighed before nodding "Can we leave a bit early tho?" You smiled nodding.

"That we can"

"After singing Happy Birthday?" You nod

"Most likely"

"Fer! I'm kinda hungry for that pineapple cake, don't you want to sing happy birthday now?" You hit his bicep lightly as you both laugh

"Don't pay any attention to this guy, Fer. Enjoy your evening" You smiled softly "And you stop. I'm also nervous and excited at the same time but stop and let's enjoy this evening before we talk, it's something pretty serious" Pedri nods

"How are you?"

"I told you I've been better"

"I don't mean emotionally this time. I meant physically. How are the burns?"

"Hopefully if I follow each and every single thing doctor days, there will be no visible scars"

"Are they pretty bad?"

"Let's say half and half" You shrugged

"I'm sorry about how I reacted with the hoodie thing" Pedro looked down "I should be grateful someone who didn't know you took care of you. And mostly with something as dangerous as boiling coffee is"

And it was all thanks to your amiga. You wanted to say bit bite your tongue back

"Yes, well... We can forget about that for now" You hummed "What are you drinking?"

"Apple juice" You nod

"I'll be needing some alcohol for this day; I'll better go and look for some"

"You'll need it?" You shrugged

"I don't know why I have this weird feeling and I just-" You said brushing it off going to the kitchen where Adrián's girlfriend, Anabella, was there serving herself something "Can you give me a glass of whatever you're drinking?"

"Something's up? You never drin- well... You don't drink hard things"

"I think I'll need it today"

...

Two hours into the party and not Fer nor Pedri have left your side. It seemed like both brothers were synchronized. You were having a good time and kinda were glad you had come.

Until it happened.

Your third vase of the night was empty and you stood up to make yourself a refill, you thought you were alone in the kitchen and once you pulled the glass container out of the fridge, you yelped seeing Victoria in front of you.

"Why are you here?" She said but you ignored her "I'm asking you something"

"And I'm deciding not to answer it" You simply said making your drink

"I don't want you here" ... "You better leave Pedri alone"

"He didn't asked me to come" You said looking at her "I'm here for Fer" You grabbed your drink and took a sip of it

"You're still distracting him"

"So...?" You asked "Look, I don't like you and you don't like me. We know that. Let's stay in our own sides..."

"I'll stay quier after you break up with him"

"Amor" You heard Pedri speak, you turned around towards the sound of his voice but soon felt your hand being yanked

"Why did you do that?!" Victoria yelled as you looked in shock at your drink on her

"Why did you do that?!" You replied

"Wha the hell?" Both of your heads turned towards the voice... Pedri. "What just happened?"

"Y/N throw her drink at me!"

"I did not! You did it by yourself!"

"Why would I do that? On myself? And if I did, why you have the vase?" She almost fake cried

"Because I was making my own drink!"

"Y/N" You heard Pedri and you looked at him shaking your head

"No. You gotta believe me, Pedro. I didn't do it, she did it by herself. She grabbed my arm when she heard your voice and pulled on it"

You saw him looking in between the two of you, the doubt clear on his eyes

"Victoria" He said

"I wouldn't throw on myself some drink just to get your attention. It was clearly her own doing, you have been telling me she's been making up some stuffs about me! She's clearly wanting you to hate me since we met each other"

"You know that's not true, mi vida. I have never lied to you, not once. Please, Pedro, you've got to believe me..."

"How will he believe you when you made up an absurd story about me throwing coffe on you"

"It's not an absurd story, it's true, you- why am I talking to you? Pedro, please" You looked back at him "You and I both know I don't have the best creativity to create something like this" You shook your head "Please" Your voice cracked

Pedro shook his head after a few seconds, a tear fell from his eye. "You have the vase on your hand and you've been saying all these things..." He started and your heart fell

"No. Yo no soy así, tú lo sabes." (I'm not like that, you know it)

"¿Lo sé?" (Do I?) He shook his head "La tú de estos útlimos días no son la tú de la cual me enamoré" (The you from these past few days aren't the you I fell in love with)

His words slapped you. Hard.

"Pedro, por favor... No tengo ningún motivo para odiarla, para lastimarla o perjudicarle de algún modo. Es ella quien a iniciado todo esto" (Pedro, please. I have no reason to hate her, to hurt her, or harm her in any way. It is she who started all this)

"Because I love him?" She said "He's only my best friend. You made up the in love things" She shook her head "You, on the other hand, had to make up some lame excuse for using another guy's hoodie"

"Hey" You said stepping forward "Mírame" (Look at me) He looked into your eyes "Please, tell me you believe me" His gaze fell "Pedro..."

"It's Pedri" He said "Only my friends and family can call me that"

You stumbled backwards

"Are you really going to do this?"

"You did it first"

You looked at him, at the love of your life, your stomach fell to the ground and you were holding back the tears. Your head was spinning and you couldn't believe it. Not coming from him.

You looked at her, who had a little smile on her face. She got what she wanted. "You won" You said and you saw how her head lifted up a bit while yours went down, hurt. You returned your look to, your now, exboyfriend.

"I really hope you never know the truth" You said sniffing "Take care, Pedri"

And with that you left the vase on the counter and walked out of the González's brothers house.

As soon as your body met the Barcelona air, your tears flew down your cheeks and you pushed your hand out for the first cab that passed on the streets.

Your forever looked like it was just words now. That night you cried yourself to sleep feeling hurt, betrayed and lonely.

... 7 days later ...

"Hey bro" Fer called out Pedri who was laid in his bedroom more than always "Everything good?"

"Not completely"

Fer sat next to Pedri and patted his thigh "Venga, vamos. Habla" (Speak)

Pedri didn't said anything. Words couldn't come out of his mouth and describe his feelings.

"A ver... What's wrong, Pedro? I won't ask again..." Pedro shook his head shrugging his shoulders

"We all know you guys broke up, the why it's still a mystery" Adrián said "In fact, the breakup itself it's a shock for all of us but it was your relationship"

Pedro sighed and closed his eyes... Images of you ran in his mind, he opened his eyes and ran his hands through his hair

"I haven't seen Victoria either which is pretty weird considering how in love is she with you and doesn't let you be" Jesús said

"What?"

"¿Qué de qué?" (What? What?)

"Victoria isn't in love with me"

"Oh no, she is. Please, don't tell me you didn't knew" Jesús laughed "It was painfully obvious. And the fact you are head over heels with Y/N, doesn't make Victoria happiest at all"

Pedri stood up

"What do you mean?" He asked with fear in his voice

"She was really mad about it, she conforted Y/N, poor girl was just trying to ignore her"

"Were you there?" Pedro asked

"I overheard them speaking that night at Fer's birthday. Victoria was going on about you and her, that your things with Y/N would end up soon... Those kind"

Pedri's mind was racing in fear and agony.

"No" He whispered

I had it in front of me all this time along.

"Is there any possibility for Victoria to have made those burns in Y/N's skin?"

"Well, it can be... She got out of the house around noon so..." Pedri's eyes clicked up like lightning all the dots were connecting by your side.

You were right. All this time you were.

He had been too stupid to realize that "No" He whispered once more

"What's up, dude?"

"I fucked up bro. Big one"

The only thing Pedri could do now, was pray, pray and hope for him not to be so late.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#M. is writing #M. replies #fc barcelona #fc barca #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri gonzález x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri x reader #pedri gonzález #pedri gonzález fic #pedri fic

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

[cinnamostar]

six dates to fall in love

part one. part two (here). part three. part four. part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.3k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), cursing, one gorey joke thing, arguing, angsty, they're each other's biggest haters, let me know if i missed anything !!

a/n : this parts shorter unfortunately but i hope u like it! likes, reblogs, and feedback appreciated. pls read part one first if you havent! well. now theres a whole new hurdle for these two to conquer heh... this part is a lot shorter, so sorry for that but i felt like it was best to keep it at this length :o

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“He said what?” Chan asked, shock coloring his voice as you updated him on the night’s events, and how absolutely insufferable Hyunjin was.

“I’m telling you, that guy’s a dickhead,” you mumbled angrily on the phone, shuffling through your apartment as you discarded your outfit and headed into the shower.

Chan took in a deep breath from the other side of the line, “Well, I knew that already, but that was just a new low.” You hummed in agreement, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, whatever. I just have a bad feeling this isn’t going to work out in our favor.”

“You never know, maybe tomorrow will go a lot better, Y/N!” 

You smiled at Chan’s attempts to lighten the mood, “I seriously doubt it, but I will try to put my faith in you and this plan of yours,” you sighed, “Well, I’m going to shower and go to bed, thanks for listening.”

“Always, Y/N. Tomorrow will be better, okay?”

“Right, good night, Chan.”

“Good night!”

God, you could only hope that Chan was right.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You were definitely having a severe case of deja vu as you sat at your local coffee shop, a pistachio latte in hand as you waited for Hyunjin to arrive for your second date of the week. You both had agreed over text this morning that you’d meet at 12:30pm, but it was nearly 1pm and there was no sign of Hyunjin. Great, you thought to yourself, as it seems like his inconsideration was not limited to just your feelings, but also your time. 

He most definitely was doing this on purpose, there was no way this wasn’t just one of his other tactics to get under your skin before even arriving. Was this how every date was going to be like this entire week? You wasting fifteen to thirty minutes of your life waiting for some conceited asshole to make it, even though he was the one to pick and agree on a time. This was ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but feel peeved as you watched the cafe’s clock tick by, mentally noting how much time had passed at every minute. Maybe it was best to go home, maybe this whole dating thing wasn’t going to work out and it was best to just cut your losses.

Right, going home sounded nice and at least you wouldn’t be losing time on some bumbling idiot. You let out a sharp exhale as you stood up, grabbing your bag and drink to make your way out, but as you turned around, you were met with Hyunjin, who was standing a few feet away from your table with his own drink in hand.

With an eyebrow cocked up, he mockingly cooed, “Aw, you were going to ditch me on our date?”

You rolled your eyes in frustration, an exasperated sigh escaping you as you sluimped back in your seat, motioning Hyunjin to take his seat with a hint of sass in your gestures, “Oh, right, I was the one ditching you, not the other way around.”

“I did not ditch you, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re thirty minutes late, Hwang,” you deadpanned.

“Better late than never, no?” he smirked, taking delight in how easy it was to rile you up with such little effort on his end.

You pursed your lips as you glared at the man who sat across from you, a small ‘hmph’ leaving you, “Whatever.”

Much like the day before, the familiar tense atmosphere took its place once more as you both sat quietly in your own seats, occasionally taking a sip of coffee every now and then. Having Hyunjin in your company was torturous, it was almost as if he held you captive in the most miserable week of your life and he made no attempt to make it the least bit enjoyable.

You, once more, decided to remain quiet, allowing Hyunjin to be the one to make any conversation since he seemed to be the one struggling the most with this arrangement. It was best to let him go at his own speed, right? Although that did not stop the displeased look from leaving your features, your eyebrows remained furrowed since the moment you were made aware of his presence.

Hyunjin let out a gentle huff, placing his drink down as he analyzed yor features, “Do you always have this much attitude?”

Rolling your eyes, you responded sternly, “When it comes to you, yes.”

“Right, because I’m the problem,” murmured Hyunjin sarcastically.

“Glad you know.”

Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek, lost in thought as he tried to figure out the right string of words to say, ones that wouldn’t kindle the already burning heat of hatred you had for him. The silence was unbearably uncomfortable, restricting him of any chance to catch his breath as anxiety and trepidation took over him. He despised this, he hated having to always be on guard around you and it was getting overwhelming, despite it only being the second day of this so-called plan. Hyunjin wasn’t dumb though, while he may be upset with these current circumstances, he would be an idiot to not take advantage of it. His plan was simple, all he had to do was get under your skin as much as he can throughout this week in hopes you’d decide to drop out of the project altogether, which would mean he would no longer have to worry about getting kicked off the shoot if they only had to replace you, he thought.

Unfortunately, you were as hard-headed as a bull, bulldozing over any hope Hyunjin had as your stubbornness made itself apparent through your countless attempts to speak to him last night. Though, something had to be working, he thought, as you reached a standstill of quietness in the middle of this bustling coffee shop. 

The coffee shop was brimming with life, fellow patrons laughing with their company and baristas shouting out names to orders as the espresso machines and blenders whirred in the background. It was a relaxing, welcoming, and cozy environment which sharply juxtaposed the energy emanating off you and Hyunjin. If anything, you and Hyunjin would be more fitting standing outside in the cold, icy, and piercing winter winds as you exchanged hardened gazes, neither wavering from their stance. Anyone who stepped within a three foot radius of you both would feel instant chills due to the intensity of the situation, yet, everyone was too absorbed in their own world to pay attention to the mental battle you and Hyunjin were engaged in. 

“What did I ever do to you?”

The sudden question surprised Hyunjin, effectively drawing him out of his stupor as his gaze softened at the vulnerability in your tone and the slight quiver to your voice, though your features remained in the permanent scowl that seemed to falter ever-so slightly. This was new, this was something Hyunjin had never seen from you before and it made his heart ache to hear the confusion and uncertainty reverberate from your words. This show of weakness from you should be something he celebrates though, this means his attempts to push you away from this project had to be working, yet why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel his stomach drop slightly when he heard you tremble over your words? Moreso, why were you asking him that?

Hyunjin’s face contorted with perplexity, “You’re seriously asking that?”

Your frown changed into one of curiosity, not entirely understanding what Hyunjin meant by his question, “... What?” 

Hyunjin could only return your confused gaze, your cluelessness only seemed to light a fire under him as fury began to settle in his eyes, “You’re joking, right?”

Taken aback, your mouth struggled to form any words as your brain tried to rack through your memories, searching for a moment in time that you could’ve upset or hurt Hyunjin back then, but there was nothing. You were drawing a blank and could only wonder what you could’ve possibly done to cause this kind of rage in Hyunjin. You spoke cautiously, afraid the wrong words could escalate the situation as you desperately did not want to call attention to you two, “I’m sorry… I don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

Hyunjin could only wear a baffled look in his face, scanning your eyes to only find you were being truthful, no sign of deceit and you were not feigning ignorance, you were genuinely lost at his sudden outburst. He couldn’t believe it, had his version of reality been entirely false this whole time? Up to this point, he had scrutinized you as a villain, one of the worst in the industry, yet the thread that held this belief was quickly unraveling as he took in the innocence your eyes conveyed, a silent plea for him to not doubt your honesty.

“Weren’t you the one…” Hyunjin questioned, uncertainty in his voice, “Didn’t you sabotage me from getting that role on Director Han’s project?”

“Huh?” 

That was all you could muster out, your jaw dropping at the sudden accusation, “What the fuck are you talking about, Hwang?”

“I saw you talking to him on the set of your first film project together! Just a few days after my audition,” he spoke firmly, doing his best to remain steadfast in his perception of events.

“Yes, I did speak to him. In fact, Hyunjin,” you spat his name out, anger burning in your eyes as you tried to keep your voice down, “I was telling him how much of a joy you were to work with and was recommending him to cast you.”

“You’re lying.”

You stood up suddenly from your seat, hands flat against the table, refusing to listen to Hyunjin’s fictitious words and accusations as you felt yourself ready to explode, struggling to keep the heated discontentment you felt contained. Has this really been the reason why Hyunjin had been so cruel to you all these years? Over some dumb hunch that had no weight to it, no proof other than it being a convenient explanation? Was it simply easier for him to frame you rather than accept someone with more talent landed the role? It took everything within you not to slap Hyunjin across the face as you seethed in your rage, trying to make sense of everything that had occurred since that time. 

Of course, missing out on the role was absolutely heartbreaking for Hyunjin, as that film ended up being a blockbuster success and would’ve launched his acting career in a way so many could only dream of. Though, it absolutely wasn’t your fault that the director decided to cast a more experienced and already established actor, one whose name alone would’ve bought the film instant success.

“Right, I am so lying. Because there’s absolutely no way in hell they decided to cast someone who was just a better actor, right? It’s all my fault because of course, the great Hwang Hyunjin could never be a failure.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, studying his reaction as he remained frozen in his seat, a conflicted expression on his face as he tried to process your words. However, Hyunjin was a deeply insecure individual, one who needed constant praise to feel any bit of confidence in his ability to perform and he was quick to become defensive when it came to facing failure. Perhaps that is why he was so sure to blame you without second thought, someone who was such a stark polar opposite from him, someone who had all the confidence of the world in themselves, someone he absolutely envied and grew to hate over some theory he piped up to cope with his own shortcomings. 

You scoffed at his lack of response, muttering, “Unbelievable.”

Yet, you cannot expect someone to just back down from their version of events that they upheld as truth for so long. He had spent two years believing this, and how could he ever be so sure that you weren’t just lying to him in his face? What if you were just trying to maintain your image through lies? Though, something about the expression you wore told him that was not possible, but his own selfishness refused to let him fully accept that. 

“I don’t believe you,” was all Hyunjin could say, stubbornly holding onto the reality he had unknowingly fabricated as he did his best to ignore the hurt in your eyes.

“Why would I lie to you about that? Why would I have ever done that to you?” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes as your frustration was finally getting the best of you. 

Finally uncovering the truth behind Hyunjin’s hatred towards you was not as satisfying or relieving as you had always imagined it to be. The growing indignation you felt was overwhelming, you were losing control of your own body and emotions, control slipping between your fingers like grains of sand as another wave of emotions began to make itself known. It pained you to know Hyunjin had thought so poorly of you for so long, your heart aching at the thought of him thinking you’d do something so terrible to him. 

The molten lava of anger that flowed through your veins finally met the cool, tumultuous sadness your heart took on, turning into stone as the emotions fought with one another for dominance, but the heavy weight of cobble filled in the cracks of your resolve and urged you to maintain your composure. 

You shook your head at Hyunjin, who still remained still in his seat, and without a word, you turned to leave the coffee shop, abandoning this stupid date idea your manager had conjured up from whatever demented reasonings he had. Maybe you should have left earlier, maybe it was best to cut your losses and accept defeat. All you had now was an unquenchable amount of anger that no amount of water would ever be able to fully put out, and this only intensified your dislike for Hyunjin.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon

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#cinnamostar writes #skz #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids #fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you

[two-white-butterflies]

violets for roses | c16

Description: Charles breaks up with you in search for higher ground. Where he realizes that he needs you beside him in order to truly win.

Pairing: charles leclerc/neurosurgeon!reader

Rating: Teen [jealousy, angst]

When he told you that he needed space - you gave it to him willingly, without any doubts or questions - because you knew deep inside that he'd come crawling back - that you couldn't live without each other. But when he wanted to make that space permanent? It caught you off guard.

"What do you mean?" you could feel your throat threaten to leak green bile. He seemed calm and composed from the other side of the call - a complete opposite of you. "I don't think that we're going to work in the long term, bebe." he dare used a nickname.

A small shudder escaped your lips.

"I don't understand," you shook your head - playing with the bracelet that he gifted you. "I want to focus on the championship." he began to explain his side of the story, but you couldn't help interrupt him. "Are you calling me a distraction?" you bite your lower lip.

You felt stupid.

Stupid because you weren't aware of his feelings. Unaware of the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. "I'm calling myself easily distracted," he defended you - knowing that half of his heart still belonged to the woman inside of you. "I-I think you're too good for me. You deserve someone who can stand beside you - hold your hand through accomplishments. That's not me." he prefaced.

While you were saving lives - he was toying with his own.

"Look at the future, bebe. Can you see a person who's barely there? I know you - I know that you want to be perfect. You dream about those white fences, a four bedroom house, kids that go to school - I can't give you that." he persuaded you, knowing deep inside his heart that he could give you that.

He could give you the family that you wanted - but he wanted to fix his life first. He wanted to make a name for himself.

"Well, there's no use in trying to force you to do something." you hum, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

"Goodbye, Leclerc." you hang up.

Charles_Leclerc: A single picture, yet it gives me a million emotions. I enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed drinking martinis by the beach and rolling down the sand dunes in Dubai. I enjoyed dancing in Ibiza, and singing down the streets of Los Angeles. I had fun, and I loved you - but good things must come to an end. Thank you, doctora. ❤️

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dr_yn_official: I'll be getting over you, my whole life. Merci du fond du coeur. @Charles_Leclerc

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CHARLES LECLERC AND GIRLFRIEND'S BREAKUP TO MATTY HEALY AND TAYLOR SWIFT SPLIT. (by deuxmoi)

Deuxmoi: Now I got this from one of his girlfriend's close friend, that Charles wanted to focus on the championship while she wanted to focus more on their relationship. A few months before their public breakup, they had a little break (now they didn't specify how long the 'break' lasted but they broke up officially before they got back together).

Unknown: That's shitty, because isn't Charles 25? He's old enough to know that a person should focus on what their girlfriend needs.

Deuxmoi: Yeah! And apparently, he was very 'fuck off' manner and he was all about himself. He was always talking about what he wanted and what he needed.

Unknown: Oh my god!

Deuxmoi: Now I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm not taking any sides, but my source told me that Y/N was bending over backwards to provide what he needed and wanted. At the end (he spoke up about their faults by phone call by the way) - at the end she just went 'alright i don't wanna make our relationship a favor to you' and broke up with him.

Unknown: She broke up with him?

Deuxmoi: Yes, she did.

"Are you alright?" your co-worker places a hand on your shoulder, seeing that you weren't able to finish the surgery. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stepped into the OR knowing that I'm like this." you sigh, leaning into the cold metal chair. You've seen the tweets about you. You've seen the hashtags on twitter. It wasn't helping.

"It's okay, you're the best surgeon in the hospital - and Dr. Alawi has finished the operation. No harm done - but I will be telling HR." the nurse warns you, and you answer with a nod. Fair is fair. "It's just hard getting over a breakup," you admit - wiping the sweat off your forehead. " -especially when it's with someone I see a future with."

She sits down beside you, offering a bottle of water.

"I don't want to ask anything personal, but if you need someone. I'll be here to help you - I'm sure that you'll see someone better." she comforted. "Lots of fish in the sea." she joked, earning a small laugh.

She glances at you - seeing the sad look on your face.

"Guess what," she smiled and you turned to look at her. "What?" you inquired - watching her open her phone. "You should go on a date, something that'll take your mind off him." she offered, showing you a picture of her cousin. "He's also a neurosurgeon. Dr. Pritchett, you'll love him." she smiled, browsing through his instagram posts.

A sigh escapes your mouth. Anything to get rid of Charles.

"Give me the date, I'll be there." you tell her, and she begins typing on her phone - presumably messaging the man.

The friendship between you and Dr. Pritchett grew with every event that he invited you to join. Soon enough, you find yourself tolerating his company - often leaning into his touch willingly.

"This institution was founded by my grandfather, Mr. Patel. It's helped so much patients that suffer from brain related diseases. I can't imagine a Monaco without it." your date boasted, touring the entire crowd around the tapestries hung around the hospital.

"The number of sponsors and volunteers grow with every month, now thanks to Formula One collaborating with us - we help a lot more people." he chuckled, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back - you almost forgot that your ex-boyfriend was in the crowd.

"It's beautiful here, I didn't expect it to be a hospital." Toto complimented, taking a slow sip of his champagne. He was one of the hospital's biggest donator. Truly, a nice guy. "We wanted it to feel like home." you add - showing them around the new building.

Your eyes trail towards the man beside him - Charles Leclerc.

"It feels like that," he hummed - a small frown on his face. You were getting on his nerves now - and so was the man beside you. "Most of our patients are children, the adults are in the other wing." Dr. Pritchett added, glancing at you. "We tried to make it as colorful as possible, but it's a hospital - decorum is needed." you hum, fingers dancing along the rim of your glass.

Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

officialyour_name: the annual st. luke's gala. thank you so much to @formulaone and @scuderiaferrari for sponsoring tonight's event. also to the f1 grid who are in full attendance!

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Charles had a lot of guts marching towards you.

"Hey," he breathed seeing that sad pout on your face. "Hey," you smiled at him - surprised to see him walking towards you with such bravery. Didn't he walk out of the door a few months ago?

"You're in a new relationship, huh?" he chuckled bitterly, sitting down on the wooden chair beside you. "Well, it's not a relationship - it's more of a friendship." you admit, doctors and formula one drivers have a lot in common - they both didn't have time for relationships.

Dr. Pritchett saw you as eye-candy. Something to pass time around.

"That relaxes me a bit," he hummed - letting the alcohol take full control of the situation. "I regret breaking up with you, to be honest." he scratched his nose, fearing your response. "Charles, don't." you warn him a disapproving stare.

You already learned from the past - you already let go of your wings in order to fly. He didn't have the right to take that away. He didn't have the right to take away your independence.

"I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to get back - together, bebe." he used the same term of endearment, waiting patiently for your reply. "You can't be serious," you scoff - feeling the eyes on you.

"I'll give you time, but you know how to find me." he stood up.

and you'll always find him.

(ONE YEAR LATER)

officialyour_name: never thought i'd be sharing a candid shot, but here we are ❤️

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"I can never seem to get rid of you," you chuckle - laying on the sand and watching him attempt to make a sand-castle. It's been six months since you last gave him a chance. Twelve months since that fateful gala. You've never been happier. "Well, you're jealous because my sand castles are beautiful." he boasted, filling it with water.

"Sure, bebe." you teased.

He's changed a lot. He's more honest with his feelings. He talks to you about his problems - instead of keeping it to himself.

He wasn't a good boyfriend before - but he was a great boyfriend now.

Charles_Leclerc: We gave it a bit of thinking, and we realized that we look better together. I realized that I'm better with her. Cheers to dancing in Ibiza, singing down L.A, slipping down Dubai, and drinking Martinis by the beach. @officialyour_name

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soldforparts12: YES! I KNEW THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN

officialyour_name: I LOVE YOU

officialyour_name: We look better in RED. Missed you, drama king.

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#cl16 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc ferrari #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #cl16 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1blr #f1 instagram au #f1 2023 #f1 ferrari #f1 smau #f1 fandom

[musedblues]

FOREVER AND FOR REAL

(photo edits by @pitifulbaby_ on insta)

a/n: daisy jones eat your fucking heart out. i present yet another rockstar!eddie fic. this one features fem rockstar!reader, a fake marrige, a lot of reckless behavior and lovely little ending.

warnings: descriptions of sex, drugs, rock and roll, themes abt alcoholism/addiction, mentions of abusive ex partners, god-awful rom com tropes, fantastical bullshit. sorry not sorry for this yall know i love a good fake marriage 

30k

MINORS DNI

/// New York 1988 -

"So, how did it start with you and Eddie?" The woman from the Rolling Stone smiled as she quizzed you. Her voice was low, her demeanor was patient.

"He asked for my autograph." You revealed with a laugh.

///

Sunset Strip 1986 -

The rooftop party was in full swing. Your labels oldest and most endeared studio musician had announced his retirement and everyone who was anyone showed up to his celebratory send off.

Ozzy was stumbling from guest to guest. Prince was casting smug grins from his poolside perch. You were being reprimanded by you manager in the middle of the shindig.

"Go wish Terry a happy retirement and maybe go catch up with some other studio musicians while you're at it. You can't let your last guitarists new rumors ruin your reputation. We'll need to hire some of these people to record your next album, you know?" Kelsey snarled, his cigarette-stained smile repulsing you. He was a hard ass. That made him a damn successful manager. And a shitty fucking person.

You grumbled and spun to do what he said, trying to stay in favor with the musicians who worked under your label was a must. If only you would have known falling in love with your last guitarist would result in the messiest breakup of all time. If only he hadn't spread such vial rumors about you to his fellow studio musicians and the press.

But they were just rumors. And you had proven yourself to be one of the music's scenes most prominent figures in the past few years. You wouldn't let this hiccup be the one to topple over everything you worked so hard to achieve.

On your mission to save your name, you stopped by the rooftop bar. There were a cast of patrons who parted to let you ahead in line. That was a good sign. You still held an absurd amount of social import. After asking the man behind the counter for a vodka soda, a commotion turned everyone's gaze.

Out of thin air, was the illustrious Eddie Munson. In a flash he jumped behind the mini bar and proceeded to pour the drink you asked for. He was hammered, the drunkest of any attendee. He was smiling at you as you accepted the vodka... and then he introduced himself.

"I of course know who you are." Eddie smiled, ignoring the bartender who was frustratedly insisting the guitarist get out from behind the workspace. Eddie was leaned against the counter, watching you laugh and roll your eyes. Of course, he knew you. And of course, you knew him. He was the newest name attached to your shared label, but perhaps the most famous.

In the one year that Eddies band Corroded Coffin had appeared on the scene, their music and personage had taken over rock and roll. Their tours were selling out, their greenrooms were stuffed with groupies, their producers were booking studios so far out in advance your next session had to be postponed.

"I've known who you are since your first single became the soundtrack of the summer of '84. I've had your posters on my walls. Would it be impossibly tacky of me to ask for your autograph?" Eddie slurred, but past his inebriation lied a sparkle in his eye that you read as genuine.

"Our generations most admired guitar virtuoso is asking for my signature?" You snorted. "I should be asking for yours. Could sell it for millions." You grinned back, watching Eddie's wide smile faulter as the bartender had started swatting his shoulders, demanding he leave.

"Okay, okay. I'll go." The rockstar turned and submitted with a sigh, and a paused smirk. "But only after one more shot." Eddie spun to grab a bottle of whiskey, lifting the nozzle to hold over his opened mouth, draining more than a shot worth as the small crowd of party goers cheered him on. The bartender cursed Eddie, snatched the bottle back, and announced he was calling security. Eddie had heard enough, hoping over the bar, his boots shinning across your field of vision as he whizzed past you, landing stealthily, and grabbing your wrist on his sudden escape.

"That way!" You chuckled, just buzzed enough to let yourself enjoy the change of pace. Eddie darted in your demanded direction and found a pair of elevators around the rooftops pool, busied by party goers.

As the pair of you lunged into the lift, you reached for the buttons to shut the doors fast as possible. They slid together in slow motion as your fingers fumbled over the buttons, pressing a couple different floors by mistake as the ride descended. Eddie's laughter rang in your ear as he drunkenly bobbed to find footing. But soon as the pair of you were being lowered to freedom, your ride creaked eerily to a halt. The doors did not open. The ride did not move.

"Oh no." You called, racing to press more buttons but worrying that your initial doing so was what had stopped the ride. But surely the button meant to press for an emergency was safe, right?

"We stopped?" Eddie realized, his lithe grin faltering, sobriety bubbling into his gaze.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." You turned to face the rockstar, who was just realizing the gravity of your situation. Just then a crackly voice rang through the rides system, informing the pair of you that your alert was received and asking what had happened. A nice enough woman assured help was on the way and insisted the pair of you stay calm. You started to apologize to Eddie once more when he waved to dismiss you.

"No, it's my fault for dragging you away with me. I'm kind of a pro at causing so much trouble."

"There are worse rockers to be trapped in an elevator with." You chuckled, leaning back against one of the walls railings.

"Took the words outta my mouth... I do want your autograph. Heartbeaten was the only album I played the winter it came out."

"You're a very dangerous flirt, you know that?" You warned, looking the guitarist up and down. It was beyond flattering to hear your music complimented by a musician you admired all the same. It didn't hurt how easy it was to look at Eddie, either. Leather clad, hair a mess, eyes glazed over by the night's events. You'd forgotten for a moment that you were trapped.

"Is it getting hot in here? I'd say it's cause of you but I don't really like this..." Eddie tried to play off his worry but you watched his chest rise and fall and remembered you were trapped and suddenly everything became more realistically grim. You pressed the emergency button once more and the kind woman insisted the fire department was on their way up now.

"Just a couple more minutes." You nodded toward Eddie. "We'll be out of here before you know it."

"Thank God." Eddie noted. "But I might just miss you, ya know?"

All of a sudden it hit you. Everything you'd been through in the past year played like a montage through your mind, leading up to this moment. You realized you hadn't been trapped so much as given a golden opportunity to ask a very important question to what seemed like the exact right person.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah?"

"I'll sign my album for you if you do something for me?"

Just then a loud scraping against the metal entrance broke your collective focus on each other. A group of firemen pushed open the elevator doors by aid of some tools, informed the pair of you had been stuck on the 17th floor, and escorted you down the stairwell asking a few questions about how everything had gone down.

When you and Eddie reached the lobby, a woman you'd recognized from the label's office came hurrying toward the pair of you. She had to be Eddie's manager.

"I think it's time we go." The woman offered you a polite smile before turning a stern gaze to Eddie. "You've already pissed off three of the four bartenders here tonight. And I'm sure you've overstayed your welcome in her presence, Munson." She eye'd you.

"Actually, he was just agreeing to meet me in my studio over the weekend." You blurted. Eddie was the best player on the scene. He was your best and maybe only hope. Eddie beamed at you, realizing that this was your barter for giving your autograph to the rockstar.

"I'd love to work together." You spoke quickly enough to result in a blush of embarrassment. You were usually good at keeping your cool. But something about Eddie made you giddy and terrified and everything else all at once. You watched as Eddie's manager nodded in contemplation.

"I know Kelsey. I'll give him a call to set up the times." She dropped your managers name and yanked Eddie away in a hurry. The rocker didn't go without flashing you a smile and a wave before stumbling off through the lobby. After that, nothing was keeping you at the party any longer, either.

///

Century City L.A. 1986 -

When Eddie breezed into your recording booth the next weekend, he was refreshingly sober; and made sure you knew how grateful he was for the invitation. He slung his guitar around his back and shook your hand and listened intently to your vision for the music you were creating.

Eddie's presence was magnifying. But differently than you'd expected. You'd seen headlines and heard rumors float about from countless greenroom groupies and stagehands. Eddie Munson had gained quite the salacious reputation within the year fame had found him. He was no stranger to romantic quarrels and quandaries, legal battles, displays of public intoxication, the whole shebang. You knew he was going to captivate you, he already had. But he was not so unruly as the press made him out to be.

Eddie was respectful, desperate to fully understand your musical vison. Eddie was kind, complimenting your work and the tracks you'd scrapped together so far. Eddie was brilliant, adding licks and riffs right away that you'd never dreamed you'd be lucky enough to have featured throughout your music. He helped you write what you hadn't finished. He made you laugh in the middle of recording and apologized profusely when you had to start over and over again.

He said he could only stay for a couple of hours. But two hours turned into two days, turned into two weeks. When it was finished, your third album, Steel & Stone, had a healthy dose of Eddie's input sprinkled throughout. It was more a collaboration than a solo record. It was fucking Beautiful. Your producers thought so too. They said your sounds married well together.

That made Eddie laugh. And then it gave him an idea.

"The album cover should be a wedding! I've got it all figured out!" He excitedly sketched out his suggestions for your albums cover; and because he was so excited, you humored the guy by scheduling a photoshoot. A week later you were cutting up an old, thrifted wedding dress in Eddie's back garden. He'd hired a fake priest and invited some friends over to fill the background.

The pair of you looked fetching, Eddie in his size too small tux. loose tie, hair pulled back. You, in a ragged old dress, pearls hanging past your torso. The photos for the album cover came out killer, you and Eddie looked like a bride and groom out of a horror show. It was perfect.

The paparazzi thought so too. Somehow, someone with a camera and a lot of guts managed to snap a bevy of photos of your make-believe wedding over the hedges of Eddies back garden.

The photos were all over the tabloids the next day, and Hollywood went berserk at the news of your presumed wedding to the rock God. You found out when your phone clattered to life at 7am the next day. You answered the line to a frantic Eddie, who was less concerned about the rumor that you two had gotten legitimately married than the fact that his privacy was so easily invaded. So, you suggested he schedule a meeting with your real estate agent to find a safer, better shielded home. And because he was too frantic to take notes, you huffed and headed over to his humble abode to help the poor boy plan.

It wasn't even twenty-four hours later that rumors the pair of you were house hunting together sparked interest alongside the blurry wedding photos. News of your alleged link to Eddie traveled fast, but your management worked faster. Forty-two hours after the gossip spread, you and Eddie were called in to address the rumor mill.

///

"Sit, both of you, and listen to our pitch in completion before you voice opinions." Eddies manager, Brooke, was stood before an oak desk, she was a sharply dressed middle aged cunning sort of a woman you respected for rising to ranks men usually dominated in the industry.

You and Eddie gave each other a look as you settled in opposite armchairs. This was going to be interesting. Your manager was sat at the head of the desk, eager to have his turn of attention.

"In the past few months, both of you have been in a little trouble with the press, no?" Kelsey began, gazing over his tinted glasses to meet your eye.

"Try the past year." Eddie huffed a laugh, sitting back. The musician really had always been linked to some salacious headlines since his rise to stardom. You were rather new to the negative press, but had done a better job beating the allegations, you thought.

Brooke slid a trio of papers across an oak desk then. One showed a collage of tabloid write ups from the past few days. Every word gushed over the supposed connection you and Eddie shared. It was an overwhelming collection of rose-colored journalism. The other two papers looked like contracts.

"We think," Brooke breathed, glancing to Kelsey, "given the immense positive reaction to your supposed wedding, that you and Eddie staying allegedly betrothed is a divine PR opportunity to push alongside the new album you're each equal parts credited to have made."

"You want us to pretend to be married?" Eddie laughed. The kind of chuckle that burst from behind his teeth, like a kid in class that couldn't help but disrupt.

"Of course we do. Just for five months, till the start of next year. Besides being a brilliant PR move to promote Steel & Stone, it could save your ass, Munson."

"What's my ass got to do with anything?" Eddie quipped.

"Edward, now is a good time to inform you that your label is threatening to drop you if you don't get your shit together before this year ends. You don't want to pass the point of no return, do you?" The news hung in the air with, menacing finality. Eddie's carless behavior was catching up with him.

"Settling down in general is a good look for you. Settling down with this world famous takes no shit rock and roll chick is even better. You both get to remain reckless, except now with morals. America just creamed their pants. The tabloids have already begun rebranding Eddie, let see what was it..." She picked up a daily newsprint to quote...

"Ah yes, 'From Don Juan to I Do, can this wild rocker finally be tamed?' Cheesy but you get the gist. This positive spotlight might be your last before you're dubbed hopeless!" Brooke tossed the newsprint in Eddies lap. He grumbled back a "Hey!"

Then Kelsey spoke up...

"Of course you're not in such hot waters," He pointed your way, "but the sooner we clear up the mess you let your last guitarist make, the better off you'll be."

"I didn't let-"

"You will sign these contracts." Kelsey boomed, jabbing his finger on the dotted line of the paper in front of you. The room went quiet as his voice rattled the walls. "We'd hate for the premier of your new album to be delayed while you remain obstinate."

"You can't do that." You stated. You worried.

"We're going to talk about this." Eddie stretched from his seat and swatted your shoulder to meet him in the hall. You followed gladly, anxious to get out of the tension filled room.

A few steps closer toward the stairwell, Eddie slowed there. "Kelsey is a scary fucker, huh?"

"A lot of information just came at us at once. I think we should-" You tried to reason as you stalled at his side.

"I don't want to delay your album." Eddie blurted; brows pressed tightly together. "I don't want you to have to lug me around for five months either." He leaned against the wall, jamming a fist in one of his many leather pockets for a cigarette.

"I won't be lugging you around, doofus." You laughed, kicking his boots with your heel. "I dunno. You do need a bit of a boost in the social department. Every girl I know has a story about you, Edward Munson."

"Yeah, I know. Got outta control on tours. But you know I've been doing better, we talked in the studio about how big of an idiot I used to be. But I'm tryin'. Apologizin' and shit! I don't want you to feel like you gotta save me. I'm working on that myself!"

"I've witnessed the progress you've made! Lita called last week to gossip and she didn't curse your name once!" You noted, dropping the name of the mutual friend and one Eddie's many ex-lovers.

"See! You don't need to be fake married to me. I'm my own personally savior. Hey, that's a good lyric..."

"Listen. If we did this, it's mostly because I'm worried about the album's release being threatened. And only a little bit because I would want to help clean your social slate and save you from being dropped from the label. So..."

"Awe, you like me enough to clean up after me? Gives me reason to keep making messes..." Eddie sing songed, breathing out smoke and shooting you a wink that made your eyes roll. You had been given a small thrill when you helped Eddie escape disaster upon your first meeting. You wouldn't mind having to look out for him for a few more months in a row.

"Look, do you want my help or not? My offer is about to be swiftly redacted!" You'd been moved to this major act of charity after spending that week in the studio, learning about the guy behind the guitar. He was much more than all those famous songs and infamous rumors and those silly rambled in the broken elevator. He was funny and smart and you liked him enough by now to consider doing this insane fucking thing. But too, there was a pit opening in your stomach that warned if you didn't do exactly as Kelsey wished, he would fuck shit up for you worse than he originally threatened.

"Okay! It seems like we're doing this. But no lugging me, got it!" Eddie sighed past his smoke, decided all of the sudden. You barely had time to process what you'd both agreed to before agreeing, but there you were.

"No lugging!" You echoed, rounding your shoulders as you slinked back into the room with the papers. You didn't like your work being held over your head. But you didn't see much harm in letting the rumors go on a little longer. You were looking at the tabloid cover story about what a perfect couple you made. All very sanguine. Why fix something that wasn't broken?

The pair of you signed on the dotted line.

That same afternoon, you were sent to pick out wedding bands. You quite admired a tiger-eye stone; but before you could ask how much it would cost, Kelsey had picked out gaudy diamond studded rings for both you and Eddie. You then realized this wasn't your relationship at all. None of this was up to you. But you'd be expected to act as if it was.

///

The Beverly Hills Hotel 1986 -

"Tell us about the wedding! Did you write your own vows?" A voice called from a pit full of reporters, each one of them as sly and insatiable as the last.

You and Eddie were sat shoulder to shoulder at the press conference meant to discuss your collaboration album that hit shelves the midnight before. And too, Eddie was meant to announce his L.A residency and you were meant to announce your upcoming tour. But you both knew your alleged wedding would be the subject on the tip of every tongue. This was it. The real test.

"I wanted to sing my vows but apparently that was too theatrical." Eddie joked, charming the room, shooting winks and stretching out smiles. What a fucking bullshitter.

"You've always been a showoff." You glanced to the man out of the corner of your eye as you spoke into your mic on the table before you. He was eating this up.

"That's right. I'm my best self in the spotlight. So now I'd like to announce for the next two months I've accepted a residency at the Roxy. One show every weekend until November. Dates will be in Rolling Stone this Monday!"

Cameras clicked and voices muddled over one another as reporters clamored to ask a million things. Your manager picked one man with a notepad out of the mix. His question was for you.

"Will you be able to enjoy a honeymoon before your husband goes back to work?"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes,

"I'll be going to work myself. I'm touring this summer, a few dates need decided before tickets go on sale next week. We've got to promote this new album. Any questions about Steel & Stone? Any at all?"

The crowd roared louder than before. Reporters demanded to know why you and Eddie would be spending so much time apart so soon after tying the knot. Questions about the strength of your love and were directed at you like shrapnel. They wanted to know how two musicians with separate demanding schedules could maintain a happy life as a couple. They wanted to know why a honeymoon had failed to be arranged.

"If you must know, we're spending the weekend in Hawaii. Then, my wife and I will get to work promoting this very well made new album that you should all buy and review warmly!"

Oh, this motherfucker. Eddie was concerned about you lugging him around given this arrangement? Well, he never warned you about the bullshit antics he was eager to pull first shot he got a chance. You should have known better than to sign up for anything with this wildcard of a man.

To your surprise, Eddie's little joke couldn't be left to rest. By the end of the press conference Kelsey had your meetings canceled and a flight booked for Honolulu Friday morning. Shit, this was about to be a really weird year.

On the way out of the conference hall, you let Eddie kiss you on the cheek where the cameras could see before hurrying into a shared limo.

"Are you sure you wanna spend two days and three nights in Hawaii together?" You wondered, settling into the ride as it started zooming off. "You might get so sick of me we blow this whole thing."

"Relax babe, we'll be so chill beach side that we won't worry about stuff like that. Plus, why not make the most of this thing? Enjoy it!" Eddie shrugged and looked at you with a softness in his gaze. You saw a reflection of exhaustion you recognized. You both worked hard. Maybe it was time to sit back while the ride whirled on, for now.

"Plus, I'd rather play it cool with you for five more months than get sued for breaking contract." Eddie winked at you and popped open the limos complementary bottle of Champaigne.

///

New York 1988 -

"I wrote my first album at eighteen years old. Sold out Madison Square Garden by 19. Made three platinum records by 20. But Eddie gifted me the song that made my third album the nation's best seller for three months in a row. He played guitar on that track because I asked him too. He squirmed his way onto four more tracks because he was that charming. He was that good. He was one of the best guitarists I knew."

You bragged to Rolling Stone, watching her take notes and nod along, grinning past her cigarette. As she scribbled away you thought back to that time with reverence.

That invitation to play on Steel & Stone was never meant to be more than just that. An invitation for Eddie to play in your studio for a couple hours. But that invitation morphed into a lasting connection no one could have seen coming. You didn't regret that it happened. But perhaps if you hadn't let your management teams concoct such a devious plan to pair the two of you up contractually, you and Eddie would have been spared a world of hurt.

Eddie was one year younger than you but perhaps somehow even more famous. Maybe because he was a man, but probably because he was more talented. You could write, you could sing. But so could Eddie. He wrote and sang and played guitar and bass and drums and was a wizard behind any sound booth. A musician's musician through and through. It's something you admired about him.

But Eddie, like yourself, was a rockstar. He was reckless and late and messy and incorrigible. When the pair of you really got going, you'd bicker like bitches. When you were forced to make appearances together, the bantering made the tabloids. And apparently, sold records too. You'd seen the numbers yourself. Associating with Eddie was good for your career, back then. And vice versa.

"Next question."

///

Hawaii 1986 -

Brooke handled booking your fake honeymoon, thank God. She actually asked where you'd like to stay, how you'd like to spend your false vacation. You fantasized about a tiny little bungalow with shops nearby enough to walk to and days free of any plans.

After your plane landed and your cab ride stopped, you were left standing before the cottage of your dreams. Behind a wooden picket fence was a green home with wide windows, cozy and inviting. You hurried up the porch steps, dragging your suitcase as fast as the heavy thing would follow.

Inside was warm and homey as you could have imagined, big comfy furniture cluttered around a fireplace. A square kitchen with walls full of cabinets, plants on the large stretched out windowsills, a staircase that led to just three bedrooms. The lack of extravagance made you realize you didn't feel at home at all in your ridiculous Hollywood estate. There was more space in that home than you could fill with money or good intention. But this quiet and calm seaside bungalow would break your heart to leave, you already knew.

"Look, they already stocked the fridge," Eddie laughed behind where you admired the homes decor. "Benefits of super stardom I suppose." You turned to meet him where he stood when something else caught your eye.

"Brooke left a note." You realized, finding her scrawl on the kitchen island.

'The next three days are mostly yours to do what you please. But you must be seen out together at least once a day, given the rules of your contract. There are a row of shops a few minutes west of here and there are dinner reservations at the cities most renowned restaurant on your last night. The details and address is at the bottom of this note.'

"Right." You laughed. "It's 'our time to do as we please,' so long as we follow their rules."

"And that's the drawback of super stardom." Eddie pointed, bending to pick up both of your bags, heading toward the stairs. He announced that he'd leave your stuff in the bigger room, assuming there would be one. You announced a thanks for his chivalry and roamed toward the patio doors that opened to a private pool. Past the little garden area was the most spectacular view of the ocean, the roar of the waves providing glorious white noise.

"So... what do we do now?" You called out to your weekend roommate who you lost amongst the floor plan. You thought he was still upstairs. But as you shut the patio doors, Eddie appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a guitar case in hand.

"Wanna write?"

So with the sun setting and nothing better to do, you sat across from Eddie on opposite ends of the cozy living space and hummed along as he made up chords for what felt like forever. Neither of you spoke much, only letting your craft occupy the time.

How funny this was, in a weird sort of way. When you met Eddie, it wasn't like you were meeting at all. It was as if you'd always known each other. Banter wasn't just easy with him, it was natural. But now, once the pair of you had been left completely alone, the silence between the pair of you was full of tension. He'd look past his curly fringe every once in a while, to shoot you a grin when he liked a melody you came up with. And you'd ask him to show you a tab or two. What happened to the effortless chatter? Why was there a buzzing in your chest in his presence, all of a sudden? It was time to get up, it had to be dinner time now.

You expected the counter space to be full of liquor, as food and drink of all kinds had been stocked. But not a single adult beverage was in your line of sight. You opened a couple of cabinets until you finally found a single bottle of cabernet. Your favorite brand too, thank God.

"I'm making pasta and opening some wine. Do you want a glass?" You called out, knowing Eddie was still one room away.

"No, no." He sighed. "I really shouldn't."

"Shouldn't you? We're supposed to be relaxing and indulging!" You teased, still only getting one glass down from the open-faced cupboard.

"I kind of just got out of rehab." He called back. The news was a shock to you, since you'd met him blindingly drunk, and he hadn't left town since you'd made his acquaintance.

"Oh?"

You listened to the clatter of Eddie's instrument into its case as you found ingredients for your planned meal. His presence in the room was made soon after.

"Went to rehab. Two months. Told everyone I was recording, managed to put out Chains of Sorrow in a reasonable amount of time to make the fans believe I'd been in the studio all that time. I've been doing better." Eddie explained. The solo track he referenced came out four months before you'd met him. You asked if it bothered him that you were drinking now and he gave you a stern no.

"You've been doing better. But not always sober?" You daringly quizzed, Watching the man you fake married move from the far end of the kitchen, closer toward you.

"Recovering, not completely recovered." He grinned, leaning against the marble island. "Call it what you'd like. I've gotten good at only getting smashed at parties and saying no everything other time."

"And how many parties have you been to?" You smiled, casting the guy a suspicious glance.

"Can I help you with dinner?" He chuckled, shaking his head to your previous question. You considered the guy before you, his loosely buttoned cutoff flannel, the flutter of his eyes.

"Come, I'll show you how to make my special spaghetti sauce." You laughed. Eddie smiled in response but did not move per your request. He stood and took a hissing breath in before meeting your gaze to say,

"Before we stray too far from the topic... I have a terrible confession."

You stared at the guy, eyes flickering from his withheld grin to the tattoos on his arms.

"I don't remember meeting you at all. When my manager told me I planned to crash your studio I was so embarrassed. Did I make a complete fool of myself that night?"

"You would have if I didn't help you outrun an angry bartender. And you did ask for my autograph. Like three times. But I got us stuck in an elevator." You chuckled, handing Eddie a knife and placing a trio of tomatoes before him.

"Oh... my God."

"I promised to sign my first record, but you never brought it to the studio... I guess because you didn't remember." You pieced together, setting out other ingredients to add to your sauce as the pasta boiled on the stove. The realization that Eddie had blacked out during your first adventure together selfishly stung. You were left to carry the fond memory all alone. Left to wonder what else he may forget in the future, left to wonder why that might matter much at all to you.

"Alright, I'm going to be perfectly suave on this trip. No more being completely stupid." Eddie grinned and proceeded to follow your instructions on making dinner. The pair of you went on to laugh and cook and talk about Hollywood gossip until midnight.

When it was time for bed, Eddie followed you up the stairs. He went down one hall and you went down another, but not before casting a glance over your shoulder to find Eddie was looking back too.

///

The sun was especially warm the next morning, the rays soothing your skin from the window before the light opened your eyes.

You rose with an anxious glee, excited to find where the day would take you, but nervous all the same. Ever since ending up in this predicament with Eddie, his company made your heartbeat a little heavier. Your connection was an amusement ride, an adventure, an experience.

When you padded out into the main room, you found the patio doors wide open. Your eyes followed a set of footprints in the sand that belonged to Eddie, who was milling about the shore, looking for shells. You smiled to yourself and went about making some coffee, watching the man from the comfort of shelter.

After your morning cuppa and a little nourishment, Eddie popped his head in the doorway.

"Hey!" He called. His curls were dripping sea water onto the hardwood, his chest rising and falling quickly. Did he run up here?

"You're getting the doorway all wet!"

"Come out here with me! The waves are beautiful."

"The ocean freaks me out, Eddie!" You revealed. Would have sooner if his declaration about going to Hawaii wasn't so sudden and so public.

"Awe man!" He rang like a disgruntled grade schooler. "Well at least come walk the shore with me. We have to be seen together, remember?"

There were resorts and shops easily seen to the west of your private beach front. There were surly paps and press waiting nearby to score shots of you and Eddie after his announcement about coming to stay here.

"Ugh, okay." You huffed, declaring something about finding your bikini. You and Eddie had signed a contract. And there was one clear rule. Be seen together as much as possible.

You found Eddie on the shoreline again and trekked to meet him. He smiled at you and asked once more if you'd join him in the sea. The waves were roaring, and the vastness of the water sent a chill down your spine. Your hesitation was answer enough for Eddie, who shrugged and nodded and started walking along the sea's edge, holding out his hand for you to join him.

He let you keep hold of him as the pair of you meandered along the shore, a little closer toward the resorts in the distance. Your ever dancing nerves fell away as the pair of you talked about space and time and the existence of mythical creatures. And at the end of your fantastical conversation Eddie went quiet, letting his deep eyes search your face.

"Should I kiss you? Ya know, in case someone is watching?" He asked matter of factly, stalling in the sunlight that sparkled through his glittering sand sprinkled curls.

"What if no one is watching?" You countered, daring to reach out and loop one of your fingers around Eddies, holding on. The guy simply shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Considering the rules, you were meant to follow, you let a small nod tilt your chin. Eddie watched you come to a positive conclusion and took his sweet time leaning in. Eddie stalled for a moment, letting his breath fam across your lips, and you thought that was curious. For a kiss just meant for show, he was sure being timid.

"Eddie, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want too." You chuckled only to lighten the tension. He grinned in response, letting his dark eyes dart across your features.

"That's the problem, babe." He rose a brow. "I really want to. More than I ought to."

That made you pause and consider this whole crazy thing. You thought of how you got into this predicament and how Eddie was looking at you now, and the billions of things you wanted to say. In the time you stayed quiet and full of consideration for how to move on, Eddie became too antsy to let you say more at all.

"Should we go back in?"

"No," You shook your head. "No let's enjoy the weather." You assured, reaching a handout to brush Eddie' bicep as if to reassure him. So that's just what you did. You kicked about, dodged waves that came to close to the shore, and baked in the sun until it started to lower from its highest point in the sky.

After running in, washing up, and realizing there was still so much time left to waste, you talked Eddie into going out. You asked him to put on something nice and call a cab to drop the pair of you off at a local place by the sea.

Per the suggestion of the local driver, you and Eddie ended up at a quaint little outdoor eatery. The staff was so delighted by your surprise appearance that they invited you and Eddie to skip the line, sat you at their alleged best table, and poured you each a complimentary glass of champagne.

You tried to wave the waiter off, to dismiss them from giving Eddie the glass of sparkling wine.

"S'okay. Don't wanna be rude." Eddie insisted, taking a small sip out of obligation. You rose a brow and sat back and decided it was a night out. Eddie had said he was doing better. You chose to believe him and placed your order for the night.

"So," You spoke. "Should we come up with an elaborate backstory? Some swoon worthy anecdote about how you asked me to be your wife? A sickly sweet first date memory?"

"I think the story we have is suitable enough. You stopped me from making a fool of myself at a party, let me play on your badass new album, and I fell head over heels." Eddie laughed, but despite himself, it seemed. He breathed out a small sigh as he settled his elbows on the table. It seemed he was trying to say more.

"Everything okay, dear?" You emphasized the pet name to poke fun at your situation. You watched as the well-dressed man chewed his lip in contemplation.

"This whole thing... are you sure you're okay with it?" You knew what he meant.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not hurting us, is it? It's helping you out of the hole you're in with the label and it's selling our album. I never thought I'd be married for real but, this isn't so bad."

"What are you talking about? Everyone loves you. " He pointed, sitting up a little straighter.

"Everyone loves my persona." You pointed, lifting a finger as Eddie rose a brow. "Everyone loves my music. Loving me, is another story. Loving me is personal. I can't imagine letting anyone in that vulnerably, anymore."

"Oh, anymore?" Eddie quipped, sitting back as the waiter brought complimentary appetizers. You were going to refrain from drinking to make Eddie feel more comfortable, but at the turn of topics, you reached for the glass to calm the jitters.

"You know how I needed a someone to play guitar on my album?" You recalled. Eddie nodded, obviously. "Well, that's because I let my last guitarist get to know me a little too well."

You downed your champagne and was delighted when a staff member dropped another off right on cue.

"Go on, please..." Eddie motioned with a fork, taking a bite of food and staring at you with curious intensity.

"Well I'm sure you've heard the rumors." You shrugged.

"I have." Eddie carefully admitted. "But I always figured they were nothing more than just rumors. I do want to hear your side of the story..."

"My last guitarist and I had a fling. And right when I started to think I loved him... well it just didn't work out. So after the breakup, this motherfuker went around telling every studio musician that the only way they could play on my album was in exchange for sex. He said that was the price he had to pay. As if we hadn't been dating." You began with a scoff. "He took it further by telling the press I slept my way to the top. Probably because I wasn't giving him the time of day near then end and he was bitter that I'd been with so many others who are far more relevant than he'll ever be."

You reveled to Eddie some of the more horrific details of your last disastrous relationship and how it ended, because he asked. Eddie seemed to genuinely listen to the details you gave. Eddie took a few more sips of champagne.

"Fuck that dude to the moon and back. You didn't tell me I had the shoes of an asshole to fill!" Eddie grumbled past his mouth full of food.

"That's because I didn't want you filling his shoes. I like your shoes. I like you. And I'm grateful you played on my album and that crazy as it is, that we're in this fucked up situation together."

"This just... isn't how I wanted things to be with you."

"Oh?" You wondered, taking a hesitant bite of the dinner that had just been delivered.

"I mean... the whole thing with the contract and the lie. I thought I could ask you out for a nice dinner, like a normal date. I feel shitty about having trapped you in some kind of publicity stunt."

"You wanted to take me out for real?" You grinned, settling into your posture.

"I did. But now it's this whole circus and it's so disingenuous. I don't want you to think I'm getting to know you because I'm contractually obligated."

"You're a sweetheart, you know that?" You smiled. Eddie smiled back, and seemed to wait for you to speak further, but you had nothing more to say, you couldn't have any more to say. You planned to keep your heart on lock down. You planned to remain closed off. Being open and willing with others had only resulted in heartache in the past, in this industry. And you couldn't imagine that with Eddie. You wanted to enjoy your time with Eddie.

"I'm not willing to let my guard down for you, Eddie. But we can make the most of our circumstance, if you really want."

"What do you mean?" He puzzled, brow furrowed.

"Ask me again back at the house." You shrugged and smiled and sipped more champagne.

Dinner went on between bits of conversation that grew deeper each sentence. Eddie revealed childhood traumas. You voiced secrete fears about your career. The pair of you laughed hard over old jokes you'd heard on TV specials and picked four albums each you'd bring on deserted islands. You each finished one more glass of champagne.

Hawaii was stunning, even at night. You wondered if Eddie made the comment knowing how lovely it was here, if he needed such a rejuvenating get away. He seemed less at ease as the evening went on, however, chewing at his lip and wringing his hands the whole ride home. You hoped you plans for tonight would change that... but he had to ask you that question again.

///

Back at the house you stood, squinting to see the midnight waves from the patio doorway. Relishing their sounds, the crash of the ocean, the breeze through the windchimes near the pool. This was proving to be a very relaxing getaway indeed. You could get used to Eddies ideas. He was off up the stairs, getting ready to call it an evening you presumed. But then he appeared in his swim trunks, headed straight for the hot tub on the patio. He announced his intentions and halfheartedly invited you to join.

How curious, you thought, Eddie was so magnetic, but every time the pair of you became secluded in this home, he seemed to hide a bit of himself away all the same. You understood it, of course. Youd just admitted to doing the very same. But the pair of you had been more than open with each other by now. What had him so aloof here?

You shrugged, and spun to put on a record while concocting a plan. Of course you were banking on Eddie bringing up the question you once reminded him too, but a little nudge wouldn't hurt. After picking a Chet Baker album to spin, you decidedly flounced over toward the hot tub, watching Eddie rest there with his gaze locked on you.

"You're supposed to join me, remember?" He called, sinking a little lower beneath the bubbling waters. You watching his dark eyes fix on yours, and made your decision.

"If you insist." You smiled. The silky dress you'd worn to dinner would surely be ruined by the chemically enhanced waters. So, you slipped it off right there on the patio and hurried to the hot tub in undergarments that were just as good as any bikini.

"Happy now?" You rang, sinking so far below the water that only your eyes floated above the surface, locking on to Eddies still intensely held gaze.

"Delighted in the throes of post false marital bliss." Eddie laughed, a breathy sound he seemed to have to force a little. His eyes tore away from yours, looking for a distraction. "Shame they gave us the rings you don't like, though." He held a hand up from the bubbles to consider his diamond studded band. Yours matched because it had too.

"The rings are ugly. But we've made it work well so far I think. Haven't been this sure of a relationship since Steve Vai, you know?" It was a joke, but it was not. You'd loved your time with Steve. It was your most renowned relationship in the eyes of the press and all your friends to date. And though this time with Eddie was a sham, the connection you had to him felt frighteningly natural.

"Fuckin' Vai. Why'd you guys break up anyway? Seemed good together."

"Steve got back with his college girlfriend around the same time I opened for Metallica. Kirk swept me off my feet."

"You and Kirk? So that really happened." Eddie gapped at you with a grin. You'd kept that relationship on the down low, though a few good paparazzi photos tried to test the limits of the connection you'd had with the metal guitarist. He broke your fucking heart, ending things when that tour was said and done.

"I have a type, it seems. Dark haired dreamy eyed guitarists." The one before you now was the most intriguing of them all. And he knew it too. He had too. The way his eyes locked on yours changed. The way silence fell between the pair of you rang loud with anticipation, no matter who might speak next.

"What did you mean earlier?" Eddie finally wondered.

"When I said we could make the most of this, if you wanted?" You grinned, staying put for a beat longer in the spot you'd been floating. What you were about to suggest would either make or break the next five months you were meant to endure together. You sincerely hoped it would land well. You watched Eddie nod for you to continue.

"Well, I simply won't allow myself to fall in love with you." You prefaced, inching closer. It was easy to move through the water, stalling centimeters away from the man who shared the space with you. You could feel the heat radiating from Eddies form- even though the warmth of the bubbling water. "But I wouldn't mind enjoying the benefits of having a partner, even if we're just playing pretend." You dared to glide flush against the rockstar, resting each of your knees on either side of his lap with calculated caution. A set of his fingers brushed against your thigh in an instant, but that could have been a reflex. You needed a yes or no.

"Wanna have fun while this is meant to last?" You asked in a hush, your fingers resting gently on Eddies broad shoulders. His other hand came to rest on your hip. His faltered smirk gave you confidence to lean in for a kiss no one could see.

He kissed you back, lips timidly locked against yours, muscles tense under your fingers. But after a couple more careful pecks, his passion grew. Eddies lips parted against yours, and a sigh escaped his lips. You had him right where you wanted him. He grabbed you, nails dug into your hips, teeth piercing against your neck.

You had no fear raking your fingers through his curls to claw at the roots of his hair, maneuvering him to kiss your lips again. Eddie did so intensely, tongue jammed down your throat. His grip pulling you closer, his hips jutting up against yours. You couldn't wait much longer to go all the way, body language suggesting that's how far the pair of you would take this, it seemed.

Eddie whined a curse as your hand slipped below his waist band, kissing hard as ever. He let his fingers drift across your form until he reached the hem on your underwear, yanking them to the side. Before you knew it you were sliding into his lap as he pushed completely into you. Eddies fingers bruised against your hips and your nails dug into the back of his neck. You both rocked together, slack jawed and doe eyed, gazes fastened.

When your efforts were exhausted and passions simmered, Eddie moved your underwear back, and fixed his shorts all the same. He let his lips press against your forehead, leaving a couple gentle pecks there. He let his fingers brush against your face, cradling  your cheek as his eyes fluttered to land on yours.

"That was amazing." Eddie stressed all the right syllables. "But please... never fucking do that again."

You were too stunned to respond. Frozen now in complete confusion. Luckily, he had more to say.

"If you won't let me really love you, I can't do what we just did again. Because I'm already dangerously close to really loving you. And it would suck to have my feelings fucked around with. I understand if you aren't willing to open up. But please understand that's where we're very different." Eddie chose his words carefully and watched your eyes as he explained himself.

"O- okay." You managed to nod. "Yeah, I hear you." It was a reasonable explanation, an understandable stance. But you felt that familiar pit opened up inside you while he spoke. And it felt more empty and hollow than ever.

Despite that, you tried to cling to the fact that you'd just had the pleasure of shagging the guy, and how divine it was to feel him pull you closer the whole time. You reveled in Eddie's kindness as he helped you out of the hot tub. He guided you inside and upstairs and insisted you be the first to use the one shared bathroom. You knew this was going to be a weird year. But it kept getting weirder.

///

The next morning, you woke just before the sun. With quiet steps, you readied yourself in the loo and headed downstairs, out the door. Desperate for the freedom of normalcy, you started walking in the direction of the shops Brooke had left directions too. After a couple blocks, a variety of bodegas came into view. There were hardly any cars or bikes on the street, and only a few pedestrians popping from one shop to the next.

This was perfect. If there was any commotion over your presence here, it would likely be very minimal. A stall selling fresh fruit and veg was being opened by an older gentleman as you admired a cart full of flowers a foot away. Some store fronts were still closed as the early morning was still new. But the handful you slinked in and out of were open and occupied by people who were more or less unphased by you. A few whispers and pointed fingers among friends, and stares and smiles from clerks was perfectly tolerable. You offered them smiles and waves as you admired locally made clothes and lotions and oils.

But men with cameras waited outside, word spreading fast that you'd made your way into town. There weren't many photographers, thank God, maybe five. And they were respectful as could be, calling your name and welcoming you to the island. You gave them rushed acknowledgement and waved them off when they demanded to know where Eddie was. They didn't need to know he was sleeping soundly in the spare room of your shared bungalow. But they could watch as you decided to buy fresh produce from the little local man at the edge of the hamlet. A nice big breakfast sounded nice.

As you thanked the vendor and made your way to head home, the men with cameras began to follow your footsteps. You dreaded having to beg them away. But this time, you didn't have to. The vendor who'd sold you a canvas bag full of produce shouted ardently enough to get the paparazzi to stay back and let you be on your way. You knew you'd love it here. You knew it would be hard to go back to L.A. but you didn't have to yet. The only thing on your agenda was to make breakfast.

Eddie was already in the kitchen when you'd walked back. You could tell from the sound of a mug rattling against the counterspace and the drip of the coffee machine. He rolled his shoulders to adjust to the morning as you carried your fresh food into the little room.

"I popped to the shops! It was sort of nice. There were only a few paps out."

"Did they bother you?" Eddie seemed to worry, locking a puzzled gaze on you before peeking in on what groceries you brought home.

"Almost. But a nice older shop owner shooed them off from following me home. I really like it here." You lamented, not taking a single moment for granted. Soaking up the sights and sounds of the kitchen as you opened the white chipped cupboards, catching glances of the ocean out the window. You announced your intentions to make breakfast and Eddie hummed past his coffee. He stayed quiet afterward, lingering as you mucked about with pots and cutting boards.

The room was full of quiet tension again. Not like something ominous was near happening. Just the weight of the obvious being unspoken. You knew Eddie liked you more than he should. And you both knew you couldn't let yourself feel the same. Knowing all this, you went on slicing tomatoes. And turning on the radio. And switching stations when one of your songs came on.

The rest of the trip was spent in quiet; shared meals and movie marathons on one particular rainy afternoon. Small conversations and one last wordless jam session.

You were really going to miss it here.

///

L.A. 1986 -

It was Eddie's debuted at the Roxy, the first of a string of already sold-out shows. He asked you to perform with him to kick things off.

Backstage, you hesitantly watched his bandmates pour him several shots. You helped him decide what to wear and let him give you a sloppy kiss in front of a reporter. His tongue jammed toward your throat, his hands splayed against your hips, and he continued even after the snaps from the camera ended. Then, when the room got a little quieter, and when you were starting to lose feeling in your lips, Eddie pulled away and murmured something in your ear.

"Felt like a real kiss. Wish it was. Wish you'd really wanna be my girl." His words slurred. He was clearly already inebriated. But it wasn't like he was wasted. The words shot a thousand feelings from your heart into your nervous system, anger being the most immediately powerful. You shoved the man's shoulders to loosen his grasp on you, his face fell. The reporter's camera started clicking again.

"You're pushing your luck." You warned. He was trying to get a rise out of you, right? He was trying to get you to cause a scene for the photographer to capture, right? He was whiskey talking, right? He said your name and tried to reach for you as you blocked his advances.

"Go toward the stage." You demanded, turning the musician by the shoulders in the right direction. He protested for you to listen, but you couldn't do this right now. You couldn't imagine doing this ever. He knew you couldn't let yourself go there.

"Shut the hell up Eddie. You've got a show to put on. I'll meet you out there. Son of a bitch." You whined, shoving the musician toward the side stage as he tried to get you to wait up. But he was being introduced and the cheers from the crowd called the man to saunter toward the mic center stage.

Why the fuck did he say all that? You couldn't stop playing it over and over in your head. Why did it make your heart stop a little? You stole the bottle of whiskey from a stagehand and went to shake out your jitters in his dressing room. You had three songs until you would share the mic with Eddie. That gave you time for a drink and a half, a few vocal warmups, and a sudden costume change into suede platforms that made your toes a little less constricted.

Just as you stomped into your last boot, a stage hand came rushing over, stealing back the bottle of whiskey and pulling you toward the stage. You stormed into the spotlight where you met Eddie, playing a riff that a steady drumbeat accompanied. He started singing, staring right at you while you added harmonies you could barely hear over the cheers from the crowd. It was the single from Steel & Stone. It was a packed house, audience from stage to sidewalk outside the entry. An Eddie sized crowd. He deserved bigger yet, you thought.

The pair of you stared each other down throughout the next couple songs, and you danced next to the bass player when Eddie broke into a few guitar solos. When the last song you were meant to share ended, you bowed, thanking the people in the front row. But Eddie spoke into the mic.

"Baby, baby, wait don't leave." He sing-songed, stopping your exit with a breathy plea. "No, not yet. She's about to leave for three months ya'll." Eddie addressed the audience who awed in commiseration. The fuck was this about? A public display of sorrow so the nearest magazine reporter could write in that Eddie seemed to really adore his wife in the middle of the review for this show?

"Why don't you sing one more song. Just you. Just for me. Before you go." Eddie looked at you, his voice echoing from the stage to the back of the venue. The crowd applauded the idea and you paused in consideration. You rarely passed up the opportunity to preform, but this was Eddies' show. You decided since he was giving you puppy dog eyes, and a room full of a few hundred were chanting for you to do it, you would.

"Okay but it's gonna be one of your songs, got it? You gotta come see me on tour if you want one of mine." You took the mic, and as he stepped away Eddie smiled and said "Deal."

You picked your favorite Corroded Coffin number and the band behind you knew exactly where to jump in almost right away. Eddies music was heavy and hard to sing, but you'd gotten pretty good at it, putting on fake concerts on the patio of that little Hawaiian bungalow.

You sang your heart out, you sang for Eddie like he'd asked. He played toward the left of the stage, mesmerized by your every move. The number ended with the thrash of a few cymbals and the crowd going wild. As you backed away from the mic, Eddie came toward you. You met him halfway, planted a kiss on his lips for show, but also partly for revenge's sake. You hoped the gesture would leave him as frustratedly guessing as his left you.

///

LAX 1986 -

"We land in Ireland, I'll play two shows. Then it's Glasgow, Manchester, London, and then France. You're coming to Paris, right?" You listed off the first half of your European leg as Eddie matched the pace you set; a steady march down the tarmac of the airport. He had an arm tossed over your shoulder for show, and his head bent in to hear you better as you spoke up past the roar of the jet you approached. Beyond the aircraft were a roped off coral of press and fans who'd gathered to see you off. Their shouts didn't make conversation any easier. But their smiles when you offered a gentle wave settled the usual despair in the pit of your stomach.

"Yes, three weeks from today, I'll be seeing you again in the most romantic city of all." Eddie grinned as you stalled to face him. 

"I hope your Roxy gigs stay sold out. You can call me to brag about em if you'd like." You smiled up to the guy, admiring his hair that moved with the gentle morning breeze. You'd miss his companionship. You'd grown quite fond of having a friend nearby, despite being almost strictly business partners. That's all this was, you reminded yourself.

"I'll take you up on that offer. You better call me at least when you make it safely overseas. And anytime at all, if you want." Eddie grinned at the same time he let a hand smooth the back of your hair. His fingers settled loosely at the base of your neck to pull you close for a kiss to the forehead, for show, you reckoned. Eddie insisted on walking you onboard the flight and you took the time to introduce him to the band you'd be traveling with. 

Izzy, the bassist, had only ever played on Neil Young's tours. The guy was excited for a change of pace, touring with you. Ambrose the guitarist was new to the scene but a damn fine player. He'd seemed to keep almost totally to himself. Your drummer was called Zed. He asked Eddie for a spare cigarette and informed you he'd brought snacks for the plane ride. Everyone was nice enough, but your nerves stood on end when you realized you were about to be far from home with a bunch of practical strangers and your vile ass manager to boot.

"I'll call you right when we land." You nodded to Eddie, who lingered near the exit of the jet. But it was less because he'd asked you to call, and more now because you knew you'd be a little desperate to hear a familiar voice as soon as you'd be able too. But Eddie didn't need to know that. 

///

Ireland was beautiful. You hadn't quiet found a friend in any of your new band mates by then. But since Kelsey was busy managing a whole new team of people, his pressures never quiet landed on you, those first few days. You knew the steps to take around that maniac of a man. What to say and withhold to keep from setting the manager off. So, things seemed to be going well.

You told Eddie as much when you rang him the next three nights in a row, and laughed as he told you a story of his recent invitation to lunch with the Osbornes. Eddie had a newer, wilder story every night. And you swore you slept better when he wished you well at the end of every chat.

You were hopeful for this tour. The first few shows flew by with ease. You'd hardly had many kinks to work out with the new band. You were able to keep to yourself. You were treated like royalty by every villa foreman, wait staff member and venue manager.

But on the ride from Manchester to London, something shifted. You wanted to blame the dreary weather. You wanted to blame end of the fortnight fatigue. But a gnawing deep in the pit of your core warned you that something was simply not right. You mulled over telling Eddie. Calling him to ask if he thought you might be going crazy. If he believed in the power of premonitions. You didn't feel like you could ask that same question to Ambrose or Izzy. They'd hardly given you the time of day, off stage. Maybe you'd try with Zed, who'd offered you countless snacks and played a couple heated rounds of eye spy with you from city to city. But what if your desire for a deeper connection scared off the one potential friend you had in your drummer? What if asking Eddie if he thought you were going crazy made him realize you probably were, and he couldn't even pretend to be your friend anymore, let alone your lover? Why were you letting yourself care?

"Practicing telekinesis?" Zed interrupted your internal downward spiral by plopping down at your side on the aisle seat of the plane. "You've been staring a hole through this page of Rolling Stone for at least a half hour."

"Oh, hi." You huffed a laugh, shutting the magazine you'd forgotten was open in your lap. "Just thinking." You sighed, settling deeper into your chair. 

"Don't let Kelsey know." Zed scoffed. "It's his ideas or nothing around here isn't it? Why does he have to kill the vibe so bad?" 

"I hope he isn't starting his bullshit already. This tour has been fine! He just has this sick desire for things to go his way, whether they're going well or not."

"We're in for a looong tour, then, huh?" Zed rolled his eyes and stole the magazine you'd shut. Whether or not anyone around you believed in the power of intuition, you knew something bad was coming.

///

The phone line buzzed and buzzed. Almost to the same beat as a drip of rainwater from your balcony doorway. The streets of London sounded frenzied even from far off. You were about to let out your held breath and hang up when someone finally answered.

"Hellooooo?" A high pitched greeting came across the other line. Certainly not the tone you'd been expecting to hear. Another wave of trepidation dawned in your gut. But instead of admitting to yourself that much, you decided to match the girl's inflection. 

"Hiiii." You wickedly grinned, hoping what you said next would wash the girl over with the same unease. "This is Eddie's wife. I'm sure he has a minute to spare."

"Oh." The girls pitch shifted immediately as the receiver became muffled. Only seconds passed before the person you were calling finally picked up. 

"You just scared the shit out of her." Eddie chuckled. "It's not funny but it's... it's a little funny."

"I'm cracking up." You rolled your eyes. "Listen is there any way you can book a flight a day early for Paris?"

"Nice to hear from you too. Geeze, what's got you sounding so serious and scary?" 

"This tour!" You snapped, but followed with a groan. "I'm sorry I just- I need a night off or something." 

"I hear you." Eddie seemed to understand. "I'm sure I can catch a flight for tomorrow. What's the occasion?" 

"Kelsey is booking a couple press things and demanding I get you to be a part of some of them." You twisted the phone cord around your index finger and rolled your eyes again, imagining the girl that answered the phone throwing herself back into Eddie's bed. 

"Yeah, Brooke can make anything happen. I'll have her get me out there by tomorrow night. Plus the press keeps doing us wonders. You've seen last weeks write ups, calling you and me rock and roll royalty, right?" Eddie smiled; you could hear it in his voice.

"Yeah," You began. "And we've all seen this morning's Star headline. How is making out with three different girls in front of the entire Rainbow Room supposed to keep you and me a happy couple in the headlines? You gotta be more careful Eddie." You ranted, more pissed than you ought to have been about other women taking up Eddie's time and space. 

"Wait, last night- that's a headline?" Eddie's tone sounded grave. "Shit. I- I'm sorry. I was drinking and..."

"Forgot." You realized, finishing his sentence. "So should I call your babysitter Brooke instead? Should I expect you not to remember this conversation?"

"Listen I don't know what's got you so agitated over there. But can you not take it out on me? I will see you tomorrow. And I will figure out a way to convince the press there are no issues. I can clean up my own messes, remember?" 

"Got it. Sorry. Bye." You finalized, slamming the phone down with a heavy exhale. Right on cue, Kelsey was in your doorway, yelling about how you were going to be late to sound check if you weren't standing up and running toward the limo right then and there. You were thirty minutes ahead of schedule. But still somehow, your manager threatened to grab ahold of you if you weren't speed walking ahead of him in the next ten seconds.

Zed and Izzy appeared, rushing ahead of the rest of the band, cursing at Kelsey, demanding he lay off. But you're already hurrying to shut up his rage.

///

France 1986 -

After a break of dawn radio interview, Kelsey rushed you along to a high-end cafe where supposedly a reporter from Europe's most renowned pop culture magazine was waiting for a one on one with you. Your manager certainly knew his was around keeping you relevant but didn't seem to care if his efforts exhausted you or not. You blinked away thoughts of a nap, straightened the ripped-up suit jacket you wore over tights, and struggled not to stop in your tracks when you glanced up to a booth to find Eddie there.

He looked sleepy as you, hair all mused, ripped up Led Zeppelin tee straining against his fit figure. Eddie said he'd make it, you weren't shocked he had. But you were alarmed, more or less, by how he lit up when he saw you. And how at ease that made your entire being feel. Wishes of nap time and bubble bath breaks didn't seem as pressing any longer. You were relaxed in Eddies presence, and he hadn't even said hello. And that really freaked you out. You needed to get a fucking grip.

Brooke popped into frame too, walking up to great you with a smile and a hug. She complimented your makeup and turned to inform Kelsey the reporter was on her way inside. You gravitated toward the man waiting in the raised up booth, grinning as he smiled broadly your way. 

"I told you I'd make it in time." Eddie sing songed, holding out an arm as you slid in the booth at his side. The guy pressed his ring clad hand to one side of your head and his lips to the other.

"Thank you." You rose a brow and nodded his way. "We're being interviewed together it seems. I'm sure our managers arranged this for a reason. I'm sure they'll ask about those photos with the girls you were out with. Should we get our story straight?"

"I think I have the right words ready. Anyway, since this whole thing is based on a lie, I think it's best we stay as honest as possible about everything else... avoid digging ourselves into too deep a hole." Eddie reasoned. 

"Well, it's not totally based on a lie, it's not like-" You began to argue back, a little too desperate to mention that you liked Eddie enough to agree to this whole crazy thing with him. You couldn't have imagined being falsely married to anyone else. But Kelsey interrupted you, waving a warning that the reporter was walking in, alerting you to be on your best behavior. God he was becoming more unbearable as the days dragged on. 

The reporter was an older woman, dressed drabber than you would've expected. She chain smoked as you and Eddie shared a diet soda and answered her questions with easy smiles.

"How is the tour going for you?" She pointed, locking her tired eyes with yours while you droned on about the professionalism of your bandmates and the electricity of your fan base and how much more connected to them you felt on the road.

"It's so much easier to get to know people when I'm playing for them, watching them sing along, meeting them after each show." You said. 

"It seems that's a factor you reap the rewards of as well, Mr. Munson. You're aware that photos of you romancing a couple of fans have been spread across every major tabloid, no?"

Between the reporter's question, and Eddies deep breath in, you felt Kelsey's gaze like a dagger. And your mouth started moving before your brain stopped you otherwise. 

"Of course he's aware.  This is the lifestyle we each chose." You hurried to end this part of the conversation you'd been dreading.

"So, is that to say you've had these same sort of affairs?"

"That's to say that Eddie and I are happily married to each other. What happens with anyone else is irrelevant to us and should be irrelevant to the rest of the world as well."

You hoped your answer would put an end to this segment of questions as you firmly glanced to  Eddie, who sat clenching his jaw. He feigned a smile right on queue, when the next question targeted his way was about how his shows were going. The interview didn't last much longer before a photographer was introduced. The man led you and Eddie toward the back garden of the cafe where you posed for a shockingly small amount of photos for the magazines cover. Eddie kept his bejeweled fingers curled at your side as you settled in his lap. You gazed down at him and searched his dark eyes, hoping he was less mad at you than he obviously was just moments ago. If he was, he played it off well, planting a kiss on your cheek as you looked back toward the flashing camera. 

When the people from the magazine shook your hands and headed to leave, Kelsey bought lunch for you, Eddie and Brooke. When the managers when inside to order, Eddie pulled out a cigarette and slouched in the chair you rose from, suddenly desperate to get off his lap.

"Why did you speak for me? I was ready to own up to that shit. I was ready to say all the right things." Eddie waved a hand and let his head hang back as he breathed out smoke.

"And I'm sure you would have. But the world doesn't care about why a man cheats on his woman. They care about how the woman feels about it. And so long as they know I don't give a shit then we stay happily married. Isn't that the point of all of this? To stay happy and get this all over with as soon as possible?" You paced as you answered, stalling with a sigh at Eddies side. But you weren't done rambling...

"Can we just forget about it? That photoshoot is gonna be killer and the fact that we're being seen together after your little tryst is gonna change everyone's minds. We're doing the right things. Can we please just not worry about it anymore? I've got enough to worry about out here."

Eddie sat up and looked at you with what you hoped was concern but worried was something closer to appalment. But then he took another drag and started to nod.

"I guess I see where you're coming from." Eddie seemed to choose his words carefully. After a few more puffs he spoked once more, changing the subject. "Can I take you out after the show? Have a little fun? You're too wound up."

You looked to him and nodded, trying not to give away how much of a thrill it really was to you that he was asking this sort of thing. This tour had your emotions all frazzled and confused, damn it. You really did need a night out.

///

You put on a badass show that night. When you weren't signing to the front row, or screaming toward the sky, you were glancing to the side of the stage where Eddie stood watching. He was all smiles, clapping and mouthing encouragement you couldn't quite read but felt the well-meaning of from centre stage. Kelsey was even bearable, clapping your back when it was all said and done, finding someone else's throat to jump down for the evening. This made it easy for Eddie to sweep you away, out for a night of good old fashioned fun.

You wound up in some burlesque pub, accepting free shots and signing your autograph on dinner napkins for a dozen scantily clad dancers. 

"I'll have a rum and coke." Eddie shrugged to a waiter, as a crowd of strangers clamored closer to the booth you'd occupied with your alleged man. 

"Is that a good idea?" You asked, careful of your intonation. Worried only a little about Eddie finding annoyance in your question. Worried more by the idea of him with alcohol. 

"I promise to handle my liquor tonight. Only drinking to celebrate the kick ass show you just put on. Hard to come down from that high and I wasn't even on stage, babe!" Eddie excused his drinking, and made you feel valuable in one suave sentence. 

"Well thanks," You nodded decidedly, flagging down someone to mix you a mojito. "One drink." You hopped Eddie would echo your number, agree to the limit. But he changed the subject as if he hadn't even heard the past few words you spoke at all. 

"You sounded so fucking good tonight. What warm up's are you doing to keep your screams so effortless? I'm always exhausted halfway through a set. Would never be able to tell if you were or not." 

"You're full of compliments tonight." You rose a brow, speaking loud, you realized. Even though Eddie leaned in close the club was still pounding with bass and drum and crowd buzz. 

"Well, I mean them." Eddie smiled. He let his eyes fall across the features of your face. He ordered another drink. Another rum and coke. He said he was following your one drink rule by not ordering something different. You couldn't help but scoff a laugh and go with the flow, not wanting the night spent by his side to sour or end. Eddie drank and laughed his way through a story about his bandmates high school prom date. He asked you where you grew up. He listened while you yammered on all the same. 

And sometime between your fifth mojito, a foreigner was handing you a microphone. You didn't know quite how you wound up being dragged toward the little club stage to sing Don't Go Breaking My Heart with a man in a pristinely applied wig and bright make up. You never saw Eddie find his way toward the front of the venue either. But when you glanced out to find him laughing and cheering along in a little wicker chair, you'd felt something in your soul settle. You felt your smile grow. You felt a reason to keep singing.

When your surprise performance ended and your once in a lifetime duet partner sent you off the stage with a kiss on the cheek, Eddie stayed sat in his chair near the stage. But he'd held his arms out wide, and you didn't think twice about falling into his lap like you'd never belonged any place else.  Eddies lap was warm. His arms enclosed your waist securely. His lips pressed a couple of kisses to your shoulder as you leaned back into him. You needed this. You'd been longing for comfort. For a care. A very drunken part of you was even beginning to consider calling it love. But the other well trained half of your nervous system shut out that blossoming idea. 

Still, you let yourself enjoy whatever spell you were under in that little burlesque club. You sat in Eddie's lap and let him hold you while a few other performers came and went. And just before last call, Eddie nudged you from your perch and decided your night was over easily as he'd decided on making it happen for you all those hours ago.

"Thanks for that. It was fun to get out, break free from a schedule." You mentioned, walking alongside the guy. Your hotel was only two blocks away, and no one was out, with cameras or otherwise.

"Of course. I needed it too. Nothings is as fun with anyone but you these days." Eddie said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he matched your pace along the pavement. 

"Easy now. Don't have to keep wooing me. No one is watching anymore." You teased, ignoring the sinking in your stomach. Ignoring those dangerous thoughts that had started to bubble in your mind back at the club. 

"I know." Eddie replied, softly yet surely. 

His arm stayed firm across your shoulder as he went on to joke about something that the waiter had said earlier. You laughed and rambled on down the block until your hotel came into view around a certain corner. In the glow that illuminated from inside out, stood a small gathering of your fans. Four or five friends who all danced a little at the sight of you approaching, waving your records and posters in their clutch. 

"Well hello everyone." You chuckled, moving with more intention, closer to the group and out of Eddies grasp. Without a second thought you started signing albums and listening to pairs of friends tell you how much your music meant to them. You relished being able to hear their stories, to be able to connect with people who gave a fuck about you for longer than a second outside busy airport gates and vip green room meet ups.

One of the meeker girls, to your surprise, caught the attention of the man who'd been hanging back, watching with a grin as you shone.

"Eddie, can I have your autograph too?"

"Ah, you don't want mine, do you? We'd all much rather have hers." Eddie sauntered closer to the group, eyes steady on your form, you realized, when you turned to smile at him. "In fact, I'm still waiting on one myself."

The pit that usually felt like a void in your gut seemed to fill with butterflies and ocean waves then. It was getting hard to ignore the fact that you liked this man more than a little. After saying pleasant goodnights and farewells to the small group of your admirers, Eddie walked you up to your room. He did not reach out an arm across your shoulder. He did not even brush his arm against yours the whole journey seventeen stories up. The absence of touch felt heavy and hurtful.

And when you stood lingering in the doorway of your room after asking if he would come inside, he shook his head. Funny how quickly agony replaced excitement. Funny how you'd only moments ago marveled over how close enough he was to touch. How you now despised the space between you entirely.

Eddie only shoved his closed fists into his leather pockets and let his unsteady focus bounce between either of your eye's.

"You know I want to. And you know why I won't." Eddie said.

"Well..." You tried like mad to get out what you wanted to say. But you weren't even sure how you were really feeling let alone able to express that much. Your pause was too long. Eddie pressed a divine kiss to your hairline, finally closing the space in between you, but tragically ending the time you'd got to spend with him. Eddie slinked off and around the corner, out of sight, hardly out of mind. 

The hall got quiet. Your heart felt loud. Must've meant bedtime.

///

A couple weeks passed by without hearing from Eddie at all. A couple weeks had passed since you'd heard from anyone but Kelsey, constantly screaming in your ear, waking you up, rushing you to sound checks, telling you to throw away breakfast because there was no time to eat it.

When the phone in your latest hotel room rang after a much-needed hour long bath, you ran to answer after its first clatter.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Brooke. Do you have a minute?"

Oh, how curious. The pit in your stomach buzzed with worry as your brain collected a million reasons for Eddie's managers phone call.

"I should, yeah. How are you, Brooke?"

"I'm okay. Eddie isn't. Last night he caused a bit of a scene on stage at the Roxy, he was so drunk he could barely remember the words let alone sing them. This morning, I found him hanging out of the back of his limo, almost passed out on the side street of the Troubadour. He asked me to drive him back to rehab. He wanted you to know before you found out through the news."

You let out a long sigh. Frustrated. Worried. Confused. Brooke went on to leave you an address to write to, saying he'd asked you too.

So, after hanging up you didn't waste any time pulling out the hotel's free stationary, scribing one really long letter. You wrote about how the tour felt like hell and how you couldn't wait to be home. You wrote about how proud of Eddie you were for seeking help and taking time for himself. And you dreamed of doing the same, asking him to tell you any and everything he would be comfortable sharing.

That afternoon you left the letter in Kelsey's grasp, asking the manager to mail it. The next few days, a cycle was born. Wake up. Write Eddie, leave the letter with Kelsey, sing a bunch of songs.

Then your drummer came knocking on your door.

"Do you plan on writing Eddie anymore letters?" Zed wondered, curiously. You didn't think much of it, he'd probably seen you leaving the envelopes with your manager.

"Yeah." You shrugged.

"Well, I found a stack of them in Kelsey's room. He hasn't mailed any. So, I gave them to the front desk of the hotel to send out this morning. I hope that's okay?" Zed went on to explain that he'd figured you'd want them sent as soon as possible, hoping he hadn't crossed an odd boundary. The pit in your stomach threatened to swallow you hole. The thought of Eddie sitting in rehab, wondering if you were going to send letters like he asked, receiving nothing. You worried at the thought of letting him down, even though you'd never intended to.

"Fuck man. Thank you, Zed." You grumbled some curses against your manager and thanked your drummer a few dozen times for sending the post and letting you know what you should've known better about, you guessed. Like he'd sensed you talking shit, Kelsey slinked in the room soon after, asking you to get a move on. But you'd been ready to go. Moving faster to get the sorry excuse of a man away from your sight.

"See how much nicer things go when you don't piss me off?" Kelsey called across the hall. You begged to differ.

///

On the way to the next gig, you heard a familiar tune on the radio. Lyrics you'd written. A riff of your bass players on creation. Prince's vocals mysteriously added to the mix.

"Why is Prince singing my song?" You turned to your band who were all equally as befuddled as you, stammering different 'I don't know's.'

The from the edge of the limo came the voice you dreaded hearing most.

"Sold it. He heard it in the booth and offered you a few million for the rights. I said yes." Kelsey huffed past a cigar.

"You sold my song to-" You began to see red when the ride stopped and your manager interrupted you, pushing you to get out and onto the stage. Your band couldn't help. They were being corralled all the same. Was this life even yours anymore? It seemed every move you made was orchestrated and modified by the manager you'd mistakenly given too much power too.

By then, the refuge you found on stage began to feel like the same old trap. Kelsey started deciding your set lists. And the first night of three at Maddison square garden, your first stop of the USA leg of the tour; you changed up what had been written down on a whim. Because the crowd was chanting for a number from your very first album. And who were you to deny them that?

Apparently, according to your manager, the devil incarnate. 

Kelsey lost his shit on you in the limo on the way to CBGBS, all for changing the fucking setlist. Your fucking setlist. Zed, bless him, tried to speak up in defense of the situation. But his arguments were shut down soon as Kelsey could form a word.

Thank God the club was in sight.

///

CBGB's 1986 -

Lou Reed gave your drummer a little blue pill. Zed said he felt free for the first time maybe ever. You found this out after the guy stole another little blue pill for you. It went down well with whiskey. Then Kelsey started to kill your buzz, being all charming and nice in front of strangers. And that was the most upsetting part of all. Because he was such a dick. And you hated to see anyone believing otherwise.

And because he couldn't help but pick apart your every move, he tried to stop you from ordering a sixth vodka.

"You've made my life hell. This is the only way to cope." You pointed.

"I've made you rich and famous, dear, you may be drunk but you're not that stupid." Kelsey droned in that stupid fucking accent.

"You sold my song to fucking Prince! You didn't even tell me. God knows you'd never ask first but you didn't even mention it! Where is the money for that transaction, huh? Already snuffed up your nose?"

"Maybe." Kelsey boasted, snatching your vodka from your grasp.

"You change my set lists. You deny me meals. You force me to fall in love with a man to make the press happy, to keep your name fucking shinny!" You were seething as you yanked back the glass and chucked it to the ground, glass shattering at your feet. Kelsey only chuckled, a dark low rumble that opened the pit in your stomach where fear and rage lived.

"I only told you to stay married to him darlin', you didn't have to suck him off and pout as he left, that's your own idiocy." Your manager loomed over you, his smoke scented breath blowing in your face. You were jabbing a finger into his chest and calling him a bloodsucking cunt as his smile twisted into a snarl.

By that point Ambrose and Izzy were pulling you and Kelsey back from each other. You yelled for your bassist to let you go, to let you keep calling out your manager for all the shit he kept pulling.

"You know that's a really bad idea. Go find Zed. He's been looking for you." Izzy's hold on you was barely a grasp but you still yanked your arms away, pissed. You grumbled away from the tension filled situation and pushed passed the crowd cheering on Blondie to find your drummer leaned against the back wall, all buddy buddy with Lou Reed, by then.

"Perfect timing, Mrs. Munson. I was just going to invite you and your drummer here to the Chealsea." Your ears rang as Lou Reed waved you and Zed along. On your walk behind the bleach blonde songwriter, your drummer revealed he'd been gifted a whole giant bottle of those little blue pills for the pair of you to survive off of the rest of the tour. Anything to dull the ache.

///

Chealsea Hotel 1986 -

The clock on the dimly lit hallway wall read four in the morning. There was a faint yet ever-present ringing in your ear. There were people packed into every room on this floor, bodies were scattered through the halls, waiting their turn for entry to a room. Or impatiently having a go at each other between potted plants and elevator doors. Someone grabbed you, they were crying and saying they loved you. They were begging you to sing a song as you shrugged them off and told them maybe next time.

"Too many people." You suddenly realized, gripping onto your drummer's forearm. He stalled and turned back to understand what you were saying. Lou Reed was long gone, had been since you'd arrived here however long ago.

You announced that you were headed down to the lobby and began stepping through the maze of strangers, breathing in their smoke and wondering how time was moving so fast. Had thirty minutes really already passed on your journey through this weird gathering?

Down at the front desk, workers smiles were wide as you glided up to the counter. If anyone was ahead of you, you'd cut them. Maybe they had let you. They usually did.

"Do you have any available rooms?" You smiled hopefully. For you, surely they would. For you, they had too. You couldn't be sure you could get back to the place Kelsey had you staying at. And you were in desperate need of some space that didn't feel completely suffocated by responsibility. The women at the front desk told you there were opening but none of the more accommodating rooms for guests as elite as yourself were available. You assured her you didn't care if it was a closet with pillows for a bed so long as you had a place to crash. With in minutes you were being handed a room key.

On your way to the tenth floor, Zed appeared again, this time with company. Ambrose and Kelsey were having a spat, and your drummer was being cornered with his hands up. You saw your guitarist notice you and that was enough to send you sprinting past them to get to the room you booked. Your manager started to call after you, demanding you stop. But you were too quick. You locked yourself into a perfectly adequate room, with a bed, a balcony and a small additional bathroom. This was more than enough. But it wasn't long before your crew was pounding at the door.

"You can't stay here. I've got two entire floors of the Marriot booked just for you, your royal fucking highness." Kelsey spat on the other side of the wooden door.

"Stop fucking talking to me like that!" You hollered back, unzipping your boots and tossing them against the door. God you could really go for another one of those little blue pills.

"Come on, please let's just go." You heard Ambrose whine like an impatient kid brother.

"Fuck you too!" You called back, angry that everyone surrounding you went along with Kelsey's bullshit. You knew they had to, to survive. But you were ready to start fighting against it. You heard the men bickering beyond your seclusion, Kelsey yelling at Zed to have a go at demanding you leave the room. He argued back that he wasn't going to beat on the door like a maniac, but he would try and talk to you like a human being, if they so insisted. His knock was polite. He had more of those little blue pills. You let him in.

Your drummer eased into the room as you slammed the door in the other's faces. That didn't stop your manager from shouting still, demanding you and Zed leave right that moment. Demanding Zed better not be a fucking idiot and just drag you out of there. Your drummer only shook his head and rose a hand to nudge you away from the door you stood seething in front of. He guided you to the far corner of the bed closest to the balcony. He opened the doors, letting in fresh autumn air.

"Don't listen to them." He said in a hush, hunkering down at your side, hands clasped between his knees.

"Well, aren't you gonna try and talk me out of here?"

"No. I think if we stay quiet, they'll leave. And maybe we can have one night of fucking peace." Zed laughed hopelessly as one of them conditioned to pound on the locked door. You sat, biting back tears.

"You're the only one who has checked up on me this whole time. I know the others don't want to cross Kelsey. But none of the rest of the band has even like, said good morning to me. Or sat next to me at lunch. Izzy will share lyrics on plane rides. Ambrose will thank me for rolling up his joints. But then they fuck off to the green room or the dinning hall with all the groupies. I've never expected us all to be best fucking buddies. But I've never felt so alone Zed."

You vented, choking back the ever-growing lump in your throat. Your drummer unclasped his hand and placed his palm on your knee as he shook his low hung head.

"And," You went on, unable to stop now that your expression had started. "Eddie can't call. He's in rehab. Even if he wasn't it's not like we're really married."

"What?" Zed turned, confused.

"Eddie's getting sober somewhere in the middle of nowhere California. And our marriage is a lie. Kelsey made us sign a contract. We're not married. It's all for show. My whole fucking career is all for show at this point. I'm Kelsey's little puppet and every time I try to cut the strings, I just end up tangled up in them."

"He's such a fucking devil." Zed frowned. "Once this tour is over..." You watched your drummer search for his next words. "I don't even know. But none of us should let him keep this shit up."

The banging at the door started again. Zed held a finger to his lips, stopping you from speaking. After a moment in the faintest whisper, you could muster you asked your drummer for another one of those pills from Lou Reed.

He pulled the bottle from his brown leather coat, and portioned you out two. You started to reach for both when he quirked a brow.

"Sorry." You grinned, guilty. Zed took the other pill and his jacket off, tossing the garment and the bottle to the corner.

"So, is that why Eddie has been so sloppy with being seen with so many girls, last month? You two really aren't a thing at all?"

"I guess." You sighed. "I thought we were something. I think he's, bare minimum, a friend. But everything else is just for show." You realized, recalling the tabloids recent write up about Eddies much too public fling with a girl from the crowd of his latest concert. You couldn't pretend that didn't hurt.

"I feel like no one is on my side." You struggled to hide the tears that pooled in your eyes, desperate for what you took to kick in already.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" He seemed concerned about however you may answer. And you realized that he was here. And that he did care. And that despite being caught up in the same bullshit as you, he was giving you all the space and time to talk about it.

You leaned in, sniffling back your crocodile tears as that faint ringing in your ears began to grow a little miraculously louder. You hugged your drummer and thanked him for listening and sitting in here and for not talking you out of going anywhere else. He let a calloused hand pet back your hair and reminded you that he was hiding away all the same. Trauma bonding.

"Can I say something?" Zed asked as you pulled away. You nodded.

"I kind of want to kiss you. But not like out of love. I think it's the pills. And the pent-up stress. And the fact that you get it. And I trust you." He shrugged and you took in every word. "Do you want me to leave now? I know that's probably the last thing you-"

"No, it's okay." You insisted, reaching out to rest a hand on the guy's thigh. He let his brow push together. His silvery eyes studied yours. He wasn't your type at all. Shaggy blonde, too toned drummer. But he was a good friend. And that was more than you could ask for at this point. "Wanna blow off some steam?"

"Seeing as how you're not actually married, I'm okay with it." Zed laughed a little, letting you be the one to make the first move. You kissed him and blocked out every thought that popped up of Eddie, and every wish that you were desperate to be kissing him instead.

Zed was warm and patient and really good with his hands. He asked over and over if what you were doing was okay. He fucked you three times by the time the clock read six in the morning. Then he helped you get dressed and turned over to give you space to sleep beside him in the full-sized mattress.

Your early morning freedom was interrupted by lunch time when Kelsey boomed at the door. He gave the pair of you a scolding through his teeth as you passed through the Chealsea, and really reamed into the pair of you on the limo ride to the tour bus. You'd be traveling to New Jersey, down to North Carolina, then down to Georgia and Florida, back up and across most the states from there. It was a daunting schedule to look ahead to after traveling so much of Europe already. And to know you weren't able to enjoy any of it at all, being under such restrictive control.

///

The next four shows were a blur. You were taking a trio of those little blue pills before every sound check. Whatever your manager shouted in your ear went out the other until the next day. You let time pass you by as you left your heart and soul on stage, using each show as some kind of therapy, best you could. And somehow, without discussing it at all, you and Zed had made a habit out of sneaking into each other's rooms each night. You used each other's sex to pacify the horrors of the tour. And that much you discussed. It was mutually agreed that no feelings could be born from the habit, and if they were it would have to stop. Your hook ups were strictly medicinal. Zed was your supplier, after all.

Ambrose caught on, and so had the others, you were certain. But your guitarist had spotted you in Zeds room one late night when he'd come knocking in search of some cocaine.

"Really, you two? How does Mr. Munson feel about that?"

"I'm sure you'd like to know. Get the fuck out of here." Your drummer slammed the door in his face. But his question haunted you for days after he asked. How would Eddie feel? Would he care at all? Would he be glad you found someone to bone after trying to shag him a time or two to no avail? Would he be pissed you were being sloppy? Would he be pissed if you accused him of being sloppy too? Would he be pissed if he knew how much you missed him?

And God how you really missed Eddie. How you hated catching glimpses of your fake ass wedding ring. How you wished you'd never left Hawaii.

///

Chicago 1986 -

The crowd stretched for miles; the open green field packed with fans far as the eye could see. The wind was welcome as its chill cooled you from the heat of the stage lights. The show was going as well as it could. Your band was in sync. You didn't even mind how Kelsey had organized the set list. Something was bound to piss you off soon, since nothing had yet. You considered this as you ran off stage during Ambrose' guitar solo, reaching for a bottle of water and a shot of something stronger.

Then the unthinkable. It was like the first time you met. You looked up and Eddie Munson was standing before you, eyes a little clearer than ever, hair longer too.

"You're looking good out there!" He smiled and shouted past the music.

"Eddie?" You grinned, baffled by his very sudden and unexpected appearance. Before he could explain himself, Kelsey nudged his way between the pair of you.

"Good! You're here! How's about a song or two?" Your manager smiled to Eddie, whose face grew concerned.

"Oh, no. I'm just here to see my w-"

"When Ambrose runs back, he'll trade off with you. Just two songs. No better way to promote the new album!"

"This is their show, not mine. I really don't want-"

"Ambrose!" Kelsey waved as your guitarist skipped side stage after his solo. Izzy was sauntering on to take his turn in the spotlight now. "Eddie is gonna take your spot for the rest of the show."

"You said only two songs!" You rang with worry. Why was this evil Brit so dead set on causing such chaos? Kelsey looked to you with a glare, ripped the bottle of water from your hand and pushed you toward the stage before going on to force Ambrose custom flying V onto Eddie.

The ringing in your ear that those little blue pills brought on was beginning to fade away. The audiences' roars dulled your senses now. You waved at them as you hurried to tell Izzy there was a change of plans and you'd only be playing songs from the new album now. The first five tracks, then the hit single, you decided in a hurry, telling him to pass the info onto Zed.

"Okay Chicago!" You breathed into your mic. "You're about to be just as surprised as I am!"

Eddie's entrance toward center stage caused the crowd to react so loudly it felt as though an earthquake could have been coaxed from the ruckus. You caught a glimpse of Ambrose at the side of the stage, throwing a fit, before turning to cue Zed to start the next song. He'd been giving the right info, playing the beat to the song you decided. You clued Eddie in, too, before taking centre stage once more and doing the best you could to carry on this concert without having a mental break down.

It was good to see Eddie. But the pair of you had a lot left unsaid. It was a sick joke, being forced to sing the songs you wrote with him, into the same microphone now. To be looking right in his big brown eyes, to feel his exhales, to be stupidly intoxicated by his presence after months, after no contact, after feeling so abandoned and hurt, even if that wasn't entirely his fault.

The four of you played a decent show, and the sold-out festival crowd was in a frenzy by the encore. You sang with Eddie and looked right at him. He kissed your cheek as Zed dragged out the beats that ended the set. But your phantom husband had never felt further away.

There was no time to talk still as your band was corralled into separate interviews and congratulations from festival promoters. Eddie was the most sought-after entity, of course. Not only was his appearance on your set a surprise but it was the first time he'd been seen out in months since disappearing to rehab. You weren't sure what excuse he gave the press this time. You couldn't quiet hear the answers he was giving journalists now, as you rushed toward the green room showers.

You found Zed leaving there and asked him for more pills, as big a handful as he'd give you. He was hesitant, but you promised it was just so you wouldn't have to track him down for more later. The blonde was worn down, dumping a few into your palm as you hurried to get cleaned up.

You knew your time was limited in the green room's shower, and you knew the night ahead was a long one. There were three more official interviews with festival promoters to complete, and a VIP tent to make an appearance in, all while Iron Maiden played the final set of the evening. You realized, as you washed the sweat from your back, that you didn't know if Eddie would still be there when you came out of the room. Or if he'd be lingering close by the rest of the evening. Or if you two were going to have time for a real discussion. So, under stress from every angle, you broke your promise to Zed and downed the handful of pills at once.

And then you were off, dressed in a new silk slip and pre torn tights, sprinting down the hall to make it to the press tent in time. Outside, Kelsey was off in the distance, shmoozing some promoters. Izzy was flirting with Lita Ford by the craft table. And you were scurrying between tour busses as dusk started to set in. Iron Maiden hadn't yet started their set. And on the steps near your tour bus, you found the rest of your band, and Eddie, sharing beers. Oh how fucking lovely.

"You've got to be fucking joking." You stood before Eddie, seething, rage coursing through your nervous system. He knew exactly what you were on about, shifting his weight as his lithe expression turned pale. Eddie shifted his weight and kept the bottle in his grasp close to his chest. You almost couldn't believe he was choosing to be so dumb right now. Led by anger, you reached out to grab the beer from Eddie's grasp. He let you rip it from his fingers and avoided the way your eyes bore into his very being. 

The boys at his side were quiet until Ambrose let out a low whistle, mentioning that he would run and get Eddie a third drink. A third. Meaning he'd had another before now. Meaning that he was acting way dumber than you ever fathomed he was capable of.

Suddenly it was all too much. As each boy noticed watch you turn red from outrage, it was like every emotion you'd suppressed in the past handful of months broke past the seal and your world began to spin. Yeah... maybe you should have heeded Zed's worry.

"Shit." You groaned, feeling your chest tighten. You dropped the bottle, rushed past the group and grabbed at the door of your traveling home. Thank God, no one was inside. Your sprint to the loo was just in time as you began to vomit. You cried, and cursed, and got sick again and wondered why nothing felt good anymore. Even the shit that used to keep the bad feelings at bay was back firing now.

You heard the group of guys just outside the door you left swung open, wondering what just happened to you. Ambrose far off muffled voice was unmistakable, "Come on, Eddie. I'll get you more beer. Let Zed deal with her sorry ass. He's been pretty good at filling your shoes, ya know?"  

Nausea rushed over you, shutting off the rest of your senses. You stayed slumped on the little loo floor, the room was small enough that your feet stuck out into the hall. Then you heard the door shut. And the sound of heavy boots clucking toward you.

"Are you wasted?" Eddie wondered. You looked up to him, standing with his fists balled up, his fingers working nervously at each palm. His dark brows were furrowed, and his speech was ever so slightly slurred.

"Are you wasted?" You shot back, still so beyond pissed off at him.

"I told you I was a recovering fuck up. Not a fully rehabilitated one." The guy reminded with a small humorless laugh.

"Why are you here?" You whimpered, resting your head against the lid of the toilet, the latter half of your sentence, a mumble.

"I'm here to see you, why the fuck else would I be? I didn't want to play the last thirty minutes of your damn set. I wanted to see you! It's been months you know?" Eddie shot back. It had been a long set of days since you'd had the pleasure of hearing the guys voice. Why did his return have to leave you feeling so fucking awful? Why didn't you stop all this shit from playing out when you had the chance? Crumble up that dumb ass contract in front of Kelsey and everyone. If only you could've saved yourself this world of hurt.

"And whose fault is that?" You asked through a whine, feeling sick all over again.

"Don't you dare put all the blame on me. I know I fucked up. I'll own that. But you're the one who pushed me away from the beginning. You told me you didn't want a real connection with me. I was willing to actually fall in love with you. And newsflash. I am actually in love with you!" Eddie's voice was growing firmer with each word he spoke. "I'm in deep fucking disgusting love with you. And you told me you didn't want that. So, I kept my fucking distance."

"I find that hard to believe." You rang through your teeth, sitting up a little. "You told me you couldn't sleep with me again because you'd fall too much in love or whatever the fuck. That hasn't stopped you from sleeping with what, three, four groupies since I left for tour? In deep disgusting love with every single one of them, are ya?"

"Of course not." Eddie waved as if it were obvious. "Those were drunken flings. Based on lust. I was already head over heels with you when you shagged me in the hot tub. I knew I'd only fall more. And since you said you weren't looking for love I set a fucking boundary. To please you!"

"Well I do love you! I don't fucking want to, but I do! I don't want any of this shit. I don't want our bullshit marriage. I don't want to be on this fucked up tour. I want to quit this shitty fucking job, oh God-"

You caught a glimpse of Eddie's face before you started to lose your lunch all over again. His eyes were wide, his jaw was slacked, his head shook in disbelief. And then what felt like a life time passed as your body writhed in agony.

"What did you take?" Eddie demanded to know.

"I don't know." You lied.

"Bullshit! What did you fucking take?" Eddie raised his voice as you started to sob.

"Zed's pills. Please don't yell at me!" You responded past tears and waves of nausea.

"I'm sorry." Eddie heaved, and you could tell he meant it and that made you cry harder. You heard his boots stomp away as you lost your fucking mind between tears and sick. You heard the door swing open. You heard Eddie say, "Get a medic in here, you son of a bitch." And you just knew he was talking to Zed, and you imagined the poor drummer lingering worriedly near enough the bus door to be there when Eddie opened it. The dreamy eyed guitarist was back in the room and kneeling at your side to comfort you while you both waited for someone to come and help.

You started to apologize for what exactly you weren't sure yet. Eddie dismissed you and said you could talk more later tonight. And you realized that meant he was staying. And that made you feel the smallest bit better.

When the medic came, he assumed you'd already vomited up most of the pills, but insisted you to come to the emergency tent for a while. You worried instantly, knowing Kelsey would blow a gasket. The rest of the band could carry on perfectly suitable interviews without you, but you knew there'd be hell to pay. Eddie sat with you, listened to the medics with you, gave you his jacket as the night grew cold. Then he walked you toward the car that the doctors called for you, insisting you get to a bed and rest as long as you could. He slid in the other side of the cab and let you slump against his shoulder the whole ride to whatever hotel you were staying in that night.

///

As Eddie walked you toward the sanctuary that was this evening's quiet hotel suite, the elevator doors chimed down the hall.

"You fucked up tonight beyond your wildest imagination!" Your managers shouts were more irate than you'd ever heard them. But you were almost too exhausted to care. Only three steps away from your room. Stubborn still, you couldn't help but turn to fight back.

Kelsey was red faced and rambling so viciously that the assistant that had followed him up was taking a step back with apparent concern. Around this time, the elevator dinged again, revealing Izzy and a group of strangers hanging off his arm.

"This is coming out of your paycheck! Do you realize that? You can't just do whatever pleases you!" Your manager raved.

"Your threats are getting boring." You stated simply, lazy eyed, hoping your lackluster engagement to this man's tirade would sting his ego.

"It's not a threat, it's a fucking promise. Have you forgotten I control every aspect of your sorry little life?"

"Don't fucking talk to her like that man." Eddie snapped, unable to cope with this nonsense any longer.

"This conversation doesn't fucking concern you," Kelsey, red faced and practically foaming at the mouth, shoved a hand to your fake husband's chest. Eddies back hit the door of the room you'd been trying to enter with a thud. He stayed a bit stunned, letting a shocked grin grow under his furrowed brow. But your composure was lost by then. You couldn't help but to begin to lose your mind.

"You absolute twat!" You shouted; lunging toward your manager who was significantly taller and was holding a stance like a boxer who was prepared to demolish his opponent. All hell broke loose. You were barely able to land a swing to Kelsey's iron build when his assistant moved to block you from becoming more physical. Izzy had rushed to involve himself by then too, much to the shock of the friends he'd brought along- who stood at the end of the hall in awe.

"You're all bark and no bite, just like your pathetic excuse of a husband." Kelsey tried to squirm away from the way your coworkers were backing him up. Eddie was simultaneously placing the hotel room key you'd given him back in your hand and motioning you to unlock the door, distracting you from escalating the situation further.

"I know better than to swing back. We're done here." Eddie let out a huff of a humorless laugh and shrugged his shoulders back in place. You got the door open just in time and let Eddie nudge you into the room first. Kelsey's grumbled curses were drowned out when your pretend husband shut and locked the pair of you in; and a deafening silence surprised you when you were only minutes ago seeking out the refuge of quiet you knew would be here.

You stood in the middle of the room, trying to catch your breath from getting so worked up. But the adrenaline that coursed through your system raged on and the overwhelm that had dawned over you in the tour bus was still shading your every thought.

"I want to go home." You whimpered. But that's not what you really meant. You'd never felt at home in the house you'd lived in the past four years. The only place you'd ever really felt at ease was Hawaii. Was that one house. Was with Eddie. But you couldn't say all that now.

You realized you were crying again when the man on your mind was suddenly standing before you and pulling you too his chest for an embrace.

"I'm so sorry. You wrote in your letters that this tour was awful but now I see they're worse than that. We've gotta get you away from this crazy dude." Eddie soothed, letting his hand brush over the back of your hair while holding you closer with the other all the while. You sank into his embrace for a moment longer before pulling away to sniffle and speak more clearly.

"He- he has me wrapped up in so many contracts. Half of which I don't even know the full extent of because he's so tricky. I don't even know where to begin." You let out a shaky breath as Eddie listened. "He's slowly killing me. He sold my music to Prince. Did you know that? He writes my set lists. He times my meals. I'm supposed to be living the dream, but it feels much more like a nightmare." You groaned, hanging your head in your hands.

"He what?" Eddie asked, alarmed. You knew Kelsey was pulling fucked up shit, but in the midst of it all, it seemed all too impossible to retaliate against. The man you'd been missing was standing before you now, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers against your wrist. Eddie's hand stroked toward your shoulder as you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath in.

"He also threatened me into pretending to marry this really cool guy. Who I'm really in love with now. But I'm so scared this guy'll never want to really be with me. And when our contract is up, he'll be free to fall for someone without being obliged."

Eddie watched as you spoke, biting into a frown that drooped lower still.

"You're gonna make me cry." Eddie breathed a laugh through his nose as a sheen covered his big brown eyes, and his hands found either side of your face.

"Cryin' because you know I'm right? Or cryin' because you know I'm wrong?" You dared to ask, fearful all the while your heart really couldn't take it if he turned you down now.

"Are you crazy? What part of 'I've loved you since the Hawaiian hot tub' don't you understand?"

Bitting back a smile, you took a beat to look into Eddie's dark dreamy eyes. Your brain was almost to fogged by the chaos of the day to fully comprehend the conversation you were having right now. But your heart seemed to understand, as it settled and warmed within you.

"You sobered up fast, huh?" You joked, but not really, as your eyes focused back and forth between his.

"I don't know why it's so hard. Maybe I need longer than three months in rehab. God it's so embarrassing."

But you got it. This lifestyle wasn't for the tender soul. But a tender soul always made the best art. And self-medication was the quickest method to suppressing the madness.

"Hey," You shook your head, catching Eddies eye. "No more talking about all this shit tonight. We'll figure it out soon enough, won't we?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so." Eddie nodded, sucking in a breath and drawing out its release. "Come on then... let me take care of you for once."

Eddie dragged you into the bathroom, filled up the tub and dimmed the lights. He joined you in the water and washed your hair and kissed your shoulders. He held you close enough to feel his heart beating. He dried you off and helped you slip into your pj's and joined you in bed for what you realized was the very first time. It was early by rockstar standards. Only ten. Still early enough to catch a special on the telly, the perfect white noise that sent you drifting off in Eddie's arms. And just before sleep, you felt the peace of belonging you'd wished for when you dreamed of home.

///

The next morning you were awoken by a cart of food being pulled in by the wild haired guitarist.

"Didn't mean to wake you, sorry love. Food can wait if you're still tired."

"Don't you have a show to play or an interview to film or anything? How are you still here?" You wondered, staying cocooned under the duvet.

"I've got nothing. I was actually going to ask if you minded me staying a few nights on tour with you. We are still contractually wed. But more importantly I really fucking missed you, ya know?"

"Do you really want to stay? It's no fun."

Just as Eddie started to answer, the door to your room that had been unlocked from Eddie's breakfast delivery, swung open. Kelsey barged in, rolled up papers in hand. You assumed they were the doctor's notes left from last night. They'd ordered you to a day of rest.

"You're one lucky fucker, you know that? You might get to be babied today but you're making up the interviews I had to cancel before we leave at six tomorrow morning."

"What are you gonna do Kelsey, drag me out of fucking bed?" You sat up and spat right at the guy. "I'm not some fucking pet you can leash up and show off. I'm a person! With a soul! I guess I can see why that's hard for you to comprehend, being the leach you are."

"You need to leave. Don't come back today. I will call security if you do." Eddie walked towards Kelsey, beginning to back him out of the room. The manager laughed lowly.

"Well aren't you two cute? Treacherous nobodies." Kelsey tossed the rolled-up papers at you before turned to leave.

"What a fucking prick." Eddie growled, picking up the papers that had floated each and every direction. He tossed them on the desk and moved to sit on the bed at your side.

"So what'll it be? Pancakes? Or back to resting?" The guy reached out a hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. Just as you grinned and opened your mouth to answer there was another persistent knock at the door.

"It never ends!" Eddie chimed.

"I told you it's no fun here." You shrugged pointedly. "Will you answer again?" You were gonna choose going back to sleep, if the fates would allow. Your body ached from its efforts of violent sick the night before. Your mind ached from exploding under the pressure of it all, last night.

"Oh, hi." Eddie opened the door to Zed. His hair was mused. He was clad in only a robe and boxers. And he held a paper in his hand.

"Was Kelsey just here?" The drummer looked anxiously from Eddie to you, back to Eddie.

"Yeah, why?" Eddie assured, seemingly worried.

"Did he leave you papers? Because it's our bank statements. And they're way fucking wrong, at least on my end." Zed held up his bluish tinted sheet that looked just like the one sitting on the table of your room. You didn't feel very tired anymore. You rushed to stand, grabbing the document and scanning the words and numbers on the page.

"There are hundreds missing. Maybe more. And it's all charged under 'miscellaneous funds.' What the fuck is this?" You waved the page before both boys, alarm bells whirring in your head. When Kelsey threatened to pull from your paycheck he wasn't kidding.

"We've had almost mirrored spending habits as the month before yet more is being taken out this time?" Zed shuffled documents until he reveled last month's invoice, pointing out the differences.

"My lawyers are Kelsey's lawyers. What should I do?"

"I'm gonna go to the lobby and call Brooke. I've just had an idea that should hopefully help you all." Eddie noted in a hurry. He nodded to you and brushed past Zed on a sudden mission.

"Fuck dude. It's like, never ending." You wanted to cry but were probably too dehydrated to produce tears at this point.

"I'm going to make sure the others know but..." Zed spoke, shifting his weight in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

"I will be, I think. I don't know. Probably no more little blue pills, yeah?"

"Oh, I already flushed em." Zed assured. "And I assume I won't be getting any more late-night visits either?" The drummer scratched the back of his head and looked to you like a sad little puppy. He wasn't in love with you. And you had nary a feeling for him. But the pair of you had found comfort in your routine hookups.

"I don't know. It's not like Eddie and I have anything officially going on. But I can promise you, you'll be the first to know when I've got my shit figured out, yeah?"

Zed nodded and told you to get back to bed, and thanked you for having a meltdown grand enough to allow everyone else a day off too. You shot him a middle finger and chuckled your way back under the hotel sheets.

///

Kansas 1986 -

Eddie hadn't left your side since Chicago. The last night you spent there he'd called Brooke and asked her to sneak into Kelsey's office in L.A. to go through his files. The brave soul did just that, and found a fax Kelsey had sent to himself of a new contract where he forged the bands signatures and decided to charge you each more monthly. Brooke called you in Detroit and set you up with some well renowned lawyers. You had big plans to fuck Kelsey's shit up after the tour. There were only seven shows left. And you weren't in the business of disappointing your fans.

Kansas was pretty beautiful, the sun shone, your plans were coming together, Eddie spent a lot of time sober and reading a paper back with his head in your lap. Your tour bus pulled into the finest hotel available. You were an entire day ahead of schedule. And there was nothing to do with it.

"Let's go to dinner some place nice, no late-night pub. Wanna?"  Eddie coaxed, crash landing to sit on the edge of this weekends bed. You watched him in his own amusement, grinning as the mattress continued to spring. 

"Sure, that sounds like a nice change of pace." It wasn't to say that you'd been starved of fine dining experiences on this tour. But the past few days had been nonstop with no time to relish or relax outside of the tour bus.

Before you knew it you were dressed to the nines, hanging off of Eddies arm as he escorted you out of the back of the resort where your limo waited. Unsure where exactly you headed, Eddie had taken care of asking the front desk for the nicest eatery nearby. 

A castle like building with French style cuisine it was. Skipping ahead of reservations and smiling politely to wait staff, you wound up settled comfortably in a leather booth, sipping a lemonade and staring at Eddie. He leaned both elbows on his side of the table and stared right back at you.  

"Thanks. For dinner. And for staying on the road with me. And for... well everything I guess."

"It's been truly the least I could do. You shouldn't be saying thanks at all. I should be saying sorry for how much of an embarrassment I've been to you, like, since the dawn of our meeting." Eddie spoke up, twirling the straw in his soda.

"Don't start that-" You tried to stop his groveling, shaking your head.

"I am sorry. We agreed to this marriage to help each other's image, more or less. And I've been parading around like a fool."

"Maybe. But you also got us a trip to Hawaii that changed my life a little. And you're here with me now. You've been better to me than you give yourself credit for." You grinned, searching Eddies deep wide eyes. He squinted as if to consider the weight of your words. He let the chatter of the atmosphere grow louder as silence settled in the space between you. One sip of your drink. Two. Three.

"So, what... how..." Eddie started, struggling to choose his words until he just came right out with it. "Do you really love me?"

"I really do." You nodded, letting your head bob more assuredly as you thought on your statement. "I'm not sure when it happened but I can promise you, you'll break my heart when you leave."

"Well, I don't want to leave." Eddie shook his head, seemingly worried, like he was about to be swept off into a void. "I don't want to leave you. I know I have to go back to L.A. soon but, that's not what we're talking about here."

"It's not." 

Just then, your kind waitress breezed by, offering refills and desserts. You declined both and decided to call it a night, hoping to get some proper beauty sleep in since you had a night free enough to do so. The pair of you breezed out of the restaurant, flashing smiles to the fans who'd gathered outside of the business after learning you were dining inside. You shouldered your way into the limo without too much fuss, and then turned to find Eddie settling at your side. 

And when he looked back at you, it was like the whole world made sense. It baffled you. Here in the middle of America, without a single prompt, it felt like your world just shifted on its axis all because of the smile that reached Eddie's eyes when they locked on yours. Maybe it was the effects of a proper meal settling in after probably too long without one. Or maybe the tour had finally driven you mad beyond comprehension.

But by the time you got back to the hotel, you weren't so naive. You realized that the wall you'd built up that guarded your heart from this man had finally crumbled, the last brick blown over after your conversation at dinner. 

"Eddie-"

Like a mind reader or a braver soul, the man in question spun around from locking the hotel door to grab your face and kiss you. And you got it then. You got why he couldn't have done this with you, if he'd been half as in love with you as you were with him right in this moment. You understood why it would have wrecked him. But you got to kiss him now, letting your soul settle as he kissed you back.

It was as if you'd never done this before. With Eddie or anyone. A carnal desperation washed over you, now that the waiting was over. Your hands traced the inside of Eddie's leather jacket, falling until they reached his belt. As your fingers started to undo the thing, Eddie pushed them away. Oh no, he was about to stop you again, wasn't he? 

"We have all night." Eddie explained, saving your heart from sinking to your stomach. "Slow?"

"Yeah, I like that idea." You smiled, letting Eddie gaze at you through hooded eyes, pressing his smile to your cheek for a kiss. He let his lips wander from your jaw to your neck as his hands trailed from your sides to your back. 

This was all you'd ever wanted from him. This was more than you'd ever let yourself have with him. His body firm against yours. His heart on the table. God, you'd nearly forgotten you were in the midst of a tour that made you nearly consider quitting this business entirely. You'd nearly forgotten you'd ever been hurt at all. 

You simply soaked up the way Eddie peeled off your layers one at a time, taking forever to do so. He laid you down and let you rip away his shirt. He smoothed his hands over your skin and let you tangle your fingers in his hair. 

Dusk cast through the curtains, coloring the room a dull purple. Eddie marveled at the beauty of the evening and moved his kisses down your stomach. Eventually his lips met the middle of you and his kisses were unrelenting. As tortuously slow as he'd taken his time to wind up between your legs, he made up for by working you up into a frenzy in the matter of seconds. And then he claimed he had only just begun; Eddie announced his plan to make you come undone as many times as he could muster before you were each too tired to go on.

He kept his word, sending stars into your vision over and over as the night turned black. You returned every favor, dragging out your efforts to drive Eddie wild until he absolutely couldn't stand it any longer. When it came time for the guy to press himself all the way into you, overwhelming peace filled your heart so full it frightened you. You were almost moved to tears by how in utter fucking love with Eddie Munson you were. Unsure how else to express those profound emotions in a time like now; you let your jaw slack and your breath catch as the weight of these intense feelings and realizations wracked your body and soul. 

Eddie's eyes were focusing on yours then, and with a smile he sighed, "I know." And somehow, you believed that he somehow truly did have an understanding of the exact feeling you struggled to articulate. Still, you barely got to relish the way his hips rocked into yours before he was losing composure. But still, it was beautiful to watch Eddie reach his peak, straining against you. Because of you.

Eddie was crashing at your side, spent and sleepy and so fucking beautiful. 

///

The next morning came too soon. You knew last night was a one off, for now. You knew there were days that waited just ahead that demanded attention you worried you didn't have patience for. You knew you needed to hold onto last night for all it was worth, when morning came.

Eddie woke up, slinging an arm surer around your middle, groaning about not wanting to ever get up. You chuckled and shifted your weight to sit up ever so slightly. You had time left to laze, but not much. So you knew your question needed to be asked right away. 

"Eddie." You whispered, grabbing the hand he left splayed across your stomach, bringing his knuckles to your lips. The guy lifted his mussed head of hair and let his dark eyes flutter to meet yours. He propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his own lips to your shoulder.

"Eddie... What are we doing? What happens now?"

"I want something real with you." Eddie lifted his face to find yours. He was smiling at first but it faltered before he spoke up again. "But I think we need to figure out our shit first. Let our dumbass contract end. Get you through this tour and away from Kelsey. Get myself off the fuckin' bottle. Then maybe we can live life together instead of just trying to survive it."

"I see." You mulled over his statement, still holding his knuckles in your grasp.

"All that to say I want to see you all the time. I want this with you all the time. But I don't want to make you promises I'm afraid I'll break. I meant what I said about staying in rehab longer than three months, this time."

"Is that why you're going back to L.A.?"

"I already asked Brooke to find me a residency." The announcement was a happy one. But it meant his leaving was soon and it meant his absence would be significant. It meant mornings in sheets and sunlight were further away than you'd recently hopped.

"Can I come visit you?"

"I don't think I could fully heal if you didn't."

///

Topeka wasn't the most glamourous city. But deep in the heart of the Midwest, the wildest shit seemed to be going down. Your green room was full of groupies, clowns, bikers, freaks of all kinds. There was probably nothing left to do in the middle of tornado alley than to go a little crazy.

Maybe that's why you weren't surprised when you found Eddie backstage. Maybe that's why you weren't disappointed. Maybe that's why you didn't stop Eddie when he let some pink haired punk rocker pour a shot down his throat. 

But then he saw you and he smiled. He fucking smiled. And you couldn't help but let outrage burst from your being at that point. Marching through the crowd, you plunged a hand out to grab Eddie's sleeve, yanking him away from the madness. All around you people were laughing and yammering and singing, lost in their own plots. Eddie wasn't laughing anymore. He wasn't smiling. He was protesting as you dragged him behind you, around the corner toward a row of backstage showers. Secluded in the tiled room, you let go and turned to face him, Eddie didn't even look like himself. His eyes were glassed over, his demeanor barely held together.

"What the fuck?" You yelled. "Just because you have a room booked at rehab doesn't mean you get a free bender. Stop trying to kill yourself!"

"I- thinking..." Eddie rose a finger, pointing your way before he huffed a small curse, losing his balance, staggering toward the wall.

"You're a fucking mess. I don't even know what to do." You wanted to cry, you wanted to yell at him until he sobered the fuck up and promised to stop this bullshit forever. For good. He stayed leaning against the wall, furrowing his brow, closing his eyes as a you shouted his way.

"You're not the only one this shit is hard for!" Eddie slurred back, opening his eyes and gesturing your way.

"What are you talking about Eddie?"

"This is too hard. I'm too-" He huffed a frustrated sigh, too drunk to possibly convey a proper expression. Still, to the best of his shitfaced ability, he tried. "I'm too fucked up for this job. I'm too fucked up for you. I think I'm always gonna be. So... so jut go back to Zed. Or something. I'm gonna fuck this up. I don't want to but-" His words slurred so close together it may have been impossible to understand him if you didn't know him so well. There were tears welling in his eye's as he rambled, and every word went straight to the pit in your stomach.

"Eddie, baby, listen-"

"No, you gotta go on stage!" He waved a hand for you to hurry away. It was true, but your concerns for him were increasing by the second. Stagehands poked their head in the locker area, calling your name, insisting you hurry. You called back to them to find Kelsey, God how you wished anyone else would be in charge enough to help. When your sleezy ass manager finally rushed in, you told him you refused to go on stage until you saw Eddie put into a cab and escorted back to your hotel. Because there were people watching, Kelsey did as you said.

You played that show with your heart in your throat. You sang with your brain turned off. You tried to remember how great last night was. But tonight scared you too bad.

///

You didn't get on the tour bus. You didn't let Kelsey threaten you to stay for the after party. You rushed to hail a cab and paid the driver far more than anyone ever should have to book it to the hotel.

The driver was brilliant. But the ride seemed to last forever- every second, a threat, in your mind. You worried almost to the point of getting sick. What if they hadn't dropped him off in the room like you demanded? What if he got out and went to a bar or got lost? What if something far worse happened?

You ran inside the fivestar lodge and sprinted to the elevator. You pressed the button to your floor a dozen time, willing it to move faster, muttering your will outloud. The elevator doors creaked shut as you pressed the button again and again, beyond desprate to get upstairs. The indicator passed the second floor. Then it passed the third. And then your ride screeched in an unfamiliar tone, stalling before the arrow could make it to the fourth floor. No.

"This is a sick fucking joke!" You cried out to no one, kicking the doors of the elevator that stalled between floors. You cried and cried and pressed the button again a dozen times before back up, accepting your fate, letting your shoulders hit the wall as you stood alone in tears. Maybe Eddie was right somehow. This was never going to work. Maybe you were destined to break each others hearts. You almost let the grim thought take over your mind. You almost let that conclusion be the finale one to make.

But then you remembered the look in Eddie's eyes last night, when he pinned you against the mattress. And the look in his eyes at dinner. And from the side stages and passenger seats and press junkets. Maybe it was destined to fall apart with Eddie. But you weren't gonna go down without a fight damn it. 

Pushing yourself from the wall, you cursed and pounded the button until the elevator screeched into motion again, rising passed the handful of floors it took until your destination. You practically pried the doors open when you got to where you needed to be, racing down the hall, fumbling your key from your pocket. 

Eddie was there, slumped halfway on the foot of the bed, like he couldn't make it the rest of the way. Empty cans a littered near the bin by the door. Kicking past them, you moved to shake Eddie's shoulders. He grumbled at your jostling him, but nothing you could understand. You cried and tried your best to move him to a more sensible position in the middle of the mattress. You cried and rolled over to kneel by the bedside telephone. It rang twice before she answered.

"Brooke, you need to come get him." You cried. 

"I'm on my way." She assured; without an ounce of hesitation or question or anything but allegiance.

You stayed up, checking Eddie's pulse that never faltered, sniffling back tears for this whole fucked up situation. You stayed up writing a letter to Eddie, promising him things with Zed weren't going to work out. Promising nothing would work out with anyone but him. Promising you'd come visit Eddie in rehab and that you actually loved him more than you knew you were capable of. That even though you were scared too, you were willing. Promising you were proud to call yourself his wife even if you were never actually married. Then you signed your name at the bottom, finally giving him that autograph he'd once asked for.

Brooke was there six hours later. Dressed to the nines, slipping in the room unsurprised by the scene, reaching out to hug you without asking. You let the woman hold you for a moment as you focused on taking deep breaths and convincing your nervous system help was here and happening.

"Thank you for giving a fuck about him. And helping him. For coming all this way." You shuddered a breath and looked to the woman with kind eyes and a killer fashion sense.

"I care about Eddie. I care about you too, you know?"

Brook went on to say that if you ever wanted to call her to talk, her line would always be open. And if you ever wanted to call her to replace Kelsey, she'd gladly represent you. She went on to curse the man in charge of your career, insisting you deserved better than the treatment he gave you. You struggled not to keep on crying as you thanked her a billion times more, and moved to deal with Eddie.

As you and his manager sat up the man, he seemed to wake up from his stupor. Still out of it enough to stay silent, but alert enough to help as you and Brooke dragged Eddie out of the room- and to another stupid fucking elevator and out of the back of the hotel. You had packed his things and stuck your letter in his bag. No doubting he'd receive it in a timely manner.

Outside, Brooke left you to bear all of Eddie's weight as she opened the limo door. In that time, Eddie tried his best to support himself more fully, grabbing at your shirt and yanking himself up to look at you. His eyes were brimmed with tears, still dark and beautiful. Still your favorite pair. 

"You promised." Eddie winced. "No lugging me around." You had a firm hold around his waist, and under his arm. You remembered the deal you made before signing the contracts. You remember what he referenced.

"Not lugging. Helping. That's what I promised." You sniffled, letting more tears fall as you brushed back Eddies hair. His eyes closed and his brow furrowed as you guided him toward the limo. Brook shut his door and promised to phone you. Then they were off. The car sputtered to start and turned down the alley and you stood there all alone again.

///

The next few nights went by in a blur. Texas was hot, Colorado was pretty, Oregon could have been fun, but it wasn't. You allowed yourself no time to think or feel or wonder. You focused solely on the music and getting off this God forsaken tour.

Kelsey went flying down the halls of a casino in Vegas when Ambrose tried to call him out for stealing money from you lot. It resulted in a physical altercation where the manager had your guitarist by the collar against a wall, but the staff security team broke it up and Ambrose slumped off to the lobby bar instead of responding when you asked if he was okay.

That night you stayed up late on the bus to Phoenix, staring at the screen of the telly mounted near the cabinets.

"You're doing that thing again." Zed appeared, looking down at you with tired eyes. "Where you stare a hole through whatever is in front of you."

"Yeah." You sighed. The drummer seemed to decide something, and moved to sit at your side- handing you the joint he'd been smoking. After a beat, he asked if you'd found any good lawyers. You mentioned that you in fact had. Sometime around Detroit, Brooke had phoned you with more information than you knew what to do with and a list of people rallied to help.

 Silence fell between the pair of you once more as a late-night show began to air. You halfheartedly listened to the host relay news updates while passing Zed's joint back and forth. And then a certain topic demanded your full-blown attention.

"Corroded Coffin announced a hiatus tonight, disappointing fans who'd recently been promised an upcoming tour." The late-night host made a joke about the metal groups fans being a bunch of softies. "Yeah, apparently, lead singer Eddie Munson checked himself into rehab for a whole year..." Whatever joke that crackled through the screen next was lost on you, as your eyes brimmed, full of pride and fear. Proud for how Eddie was being public now about his absence from the scene. And fearful for what was next to come. 

A lot could happen in a year. A lot needed to happen in a year. But what if it didn't go how, you all hoped? What if your attempt to hold Kelsey accountable backfired? What if you were never able to get free? What if Eddie found a nice girl down the hall from whatever room he booked and forgot all about how badly he said he wanted a real shot with you? 

"We'll still be friends, right?" Zed pipped up, taking the joint from your grasp and passing you a stray tissue instead. "Way less codependent? More morally supportive?" 

"I'd like that, yeah." You sniffled and smiled to the drummer whose presence had been a surprising safe place for you through this whole mess. You thanked him for being there and for understanding the time and place for your vice driven alliance had come to a close. But after a newly born secret hand shake it was decided that you'd still be glad to call each other a friend.

///

L.A. 1986 -

The holidays fast approached by the end of that tour. Your Christmas was shrouded by legal documents. Kelsey hadn't spoken to you since you'd served him those papers. He didn't even look your way in the court room. 

When the new year kicked in, you spent most weekends visiting Eddie in rehab. You'd play a round of cards and tell him how good he looked and listen as he spoke about how much better he felt too. You each dreamed of life after he got out. Movie dates and song writing sessions. You each parted ways with a well-meaning embrace and sometimes a small kiss or two. 

While awaiting the verdict to your case against Kelsey, you declined your labels deal for a new album. You phoned Brooke instead and asked her to book you a trip to Hawaii. You started packing that night, unsure when you'd leave or for how long. But your trust in Brooke's ability to work miracles remained steadfast. So when your phone clattered and you answered to the sound of her voice, you weren't surprised by the glee in her tone. 

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" She asked. Her question faltered your grin and opened the pit in your stomach. Hadn't she just said hello cheerfully as ever? 

"Uh-" 

"The bad news is that old house you wanted me to rent again is no longer available. I can't book it for you." Brooke interrupted, voice flat and tone descending.

"Oh, I see." You shrugged, not half as hopeless as you'd expected to be by her bad news. You expected much worse. But you were pretty bummed. That home was the only one you had in mind, the only space you imagined finding true peace in for your planned getaway. The only home on your mind since you'd left it. You and Eddie had so much fun there. Sure, there were moments filled with awkward silence and questionable decisions made there too. But that little Hawaiian home had your heart damn it.

"But the good news is, it's for sale. And I asked them to hold off on accepting offers until I called you." Brooke rushed to inform. Oh. Now this was very good news indeed. You asked a couple times if she was joking. You knew she wouldn't do that. But you just couldn't believe you had an opportunity much grander and more promising ahead of you. Potentially more than a suitcase to pack.

Without any hesitation you formed a plan. Two days later Brooke sat next to you on a plane, a bundle of hundreds in hand and every pair of fingers crossed. You rented a chic little motel room for one night, and abandon your things there soon as they hit the shelves. You had a house to go buy. 

It all happened so fast. You made an offer any relator would be a fool to refuse, cash in hand. In the matter of an hour and a half meeting, you were signing your name on a dotted line and being handed the keys to a door you'd opened a few times before. It was yours. It was all yours now.

Brooke took you to dinner to celebrate. You bought her desert and asked her what more you could do as thanks. She had done so much for you, more than she ought to have done. The stunning woman shook her head and smiled and reminded you friends didn't owe friends anything. All she cared to ask of you was to make this year better than the last. To see you happier would be enough thanks for Brooke.

The flight back to L.A. was surreal. You spent it planning paint colors and writing a list of movers to call and dates to settle. 

And as soon as your plans were solid and your bags were packed, another weekend rolled around. It was time to see Eddie again. You drove to the rehab in the middle of nowhere and felt something like melancholy weighing in your gut. Something bittersweet in the back of your throat. Things were never going to be the same. 

 The halls were bright white, sunlight making the tile floor shimmer. Residents you'd come to recognize pursed polite smiles your way as you turned corners to find Eddie. You knew where he would be. At the picnic tables in the garden. Maybe with a book in hand. Maybe with a pencil. 

Today, he was sitting amongst the sprawling green grounds alone, a magazine on the table before him. It was closed. As you approached you recognized the Rolling Stone font across the glossy page, looking up to find Eddie staring a hole through the cover. 

"You gotta turn the pages with your hands babe, won't open otherwise." You remarked, stepping through the grass to see Eddie grinning up at you. He was more despondent today than he had been your past few visits. He waited till you sat at his side, resting your head on his shoulder as an affectionate hello. 

"Apparently there is a pretty scathing write up about me in here. One of the first since I paused the band to come here." Eddie voiced, letting one of his big hands rest on your thigh. His rings were missing, and his other usual regalia too. The grey hoodie he wore suited him well, you thought, with his pulled back hair. He looked very clean, in every sense.

"You don't have to read it if you're not ready." You reminded, lifting your head to face the man at your side. He left his hand resting on your leg as he bit his lip and looked to you too. "Or I could read it to you?" 

Eddie shook his head.

"It's time I start facing some facts, ya know? Start doing the hard work of facing what I have to change now that I'm sober enough too." Eddie sighed. He'd spent the past few months getting well, letting his body and mind recover. The next step was to grow. To start molding himself into the version he came here seeking help to rebuild. It was time for the hard part. The part he never got to in rehab before.

"I messed a lot of shit up." Eddie nodded, letting his eyes fall away from yours. "I should have done a lot of things differently. Especially with you." 

"Babe, it's okay. You don't have to do this." You assured, reaching out to smooth your hand over his shoulder. You had never held anything that happened against him. 

"I know we both kind of got roped into a weird and shitty situation. But I could have handled it so much better. You deserved so much more respect than I gave you. And that last night. You never should have had to take care of me like that. I shouldn't have gone that far off the deep end," Eddie sighed, letting his eyes well with tears, sniffing them away as he apologized for it all. You brushed away a loose strand of his hair and shook your head. 

"S'okay, Eddie. We were both just taking those days as they came. We did what we thought we needed to, to get by. It's okay."

As you pulled the guy in for a hug, Eddie fell into your frame without hesitation, burying his head in your neck. You held him there for a moment muttering something about how proud you were that he was doing his best to be better.

"Can I tell you something, now?" You wondered, smoothing Eddies hair as he pulled away to lock his dark eyes with yours. He smiled, when he noticed you were already grinning. When he nodded, you drew in a breath and said,

"I asked Brooke to book me a trip to Hawaii. You know how stressful the past few months have been. Hell, the past year." You began. Eddie nodded along. "She found that same little place we stayed in for our honeymoon." You rose your fingers to curl into air quotes around the last word of  your sentence. Eddie huffed a laugh before speaking up. 

"You loved it there. So did I. So you're staying there again?" Eddie beamed. So did you. 

"It was no longer available to rent." You revealed, watching Eddie's brow furrow. "Because it was for sale. So I bought it. And I'm moving there. Like now. Like after I leave here." Your smile was so wide it nearly ached your cheeks. Eddie was shocked, brows shooting up, mouth hanging open, palms held out before you. You took his hands and nodded to assure you weren't fibbing. 

"Oh my God." Eddie gasped. "This is perfect. I'm so happy for you." He wrapped you in another embrace, planting his lips to your cheek as you started yammering about plans to paint and furniture to buy and an open door policy Eddie was allowed to mind at all times. Eddie watched as you rambled, his grin flattening a little, until his lips were bitten together and his brows pushed togeteher. 

"What is it..." You stopped listing plans and straightened your posture to watch as Eddie sucked in a deep breath. Seeming to choose his words, you tried to remain patient, ignoring the pit in your stomach threatening to grow.

"I can't have you read me this Rolling Stone article because I need to do it on my own." Eddie spoke decidedly. "I can't come visit you in Hawaii. I can't-" Eddie shuddered a breath. "I know we aren't really together. But I need to be really alone, for a while. I need to deal with my own shit, ya know?" Eddie's voice shook as he explained himself, bouncing his knee and moving his eyes from yours to his lap. The void in your stomach widened exponentially. 

You wanted to argue back, remind him what he said the night you slept together last. How he said he wanted to be with you. But you couldn't be so selfish. You unfortunately understood where he was coming from. You swallowed your despair and nodded.

"Okay. Yeah, I understand Ed."

"I'm sorry. I lo-" Eddie blinked up to the sky and shook his head. "I'm sorry."

A moment of heavy silence swirled between you, as you made the hard choice to be okay with this, at least in the moment. Then you looked up with a grimace of a smile. 

"Can I still write to you? I'd like to still write to you." You declared, watching Eddie work to find composure. 

"I'd like that too." He breathed, forcing a smile. "I'm still happy for you." He assured, his voice thick with emotion. 

"And I'm still proud of you." You smiled, and you meant it.

///

Hawaii 1987 -

Another holiday season was fast approaching. And this year you had every opportunity to celebrate. You bought a little faux tree and put it by the fireplace. You decorated the big kitchen windows with garland and let Christmas vinyl's spin from the record player in the guest room. 

The little Hawaiian home was clean and cozy and decorated just the way you liked. Since moving in, fresh paint brightened the walls. Old familiar photos hung there too. A few miscellaneous tour posters and three platinum records the only memorabilia you held on to from the past four years.

On the kitchen counter was an offer from your record label you were still mulling over. The year off and away from Hollywood was a refreshing and much needed break for your sanity. Creativity seemed to flow more freely all the while. You definitely had music in mind to record. You just weren't sure if you were ready.

You liked the life you had here. The mornings you spent milling about the markets down the block. The friends you made of your neighbors. The quiet. 

You missed your old life too, though. More than you thought you would have. You missed making music and singing for crowds. You missed dressing up and going out. The closest to a wild night out you had since moving here was when Brooke surprised you one summer weekend. She stayed at your insistence and took you to the finest restaurant on the Island and gossiped for two days and three nights straight. And when you asked about Eddie, she said he missed you. She said he kept your rarely exchanged letters on his coffee table. She said you should call him. But you couldn't. You wanted to respect his space. To allow him all the room he needed to grow into sobriety and into the new version of himself he was anxious to learn about.

But Brooke wouldn't answer when you asked if you should get back in the studio soon. She said only you could know the right answer to that question. So you mulled it over from then until now. Teetering closer to calling back your label every day, eager to agree to record something. 

And then it was Christmas time.

It would've felt lonely if you let it. But you'd worked too hard on finding hope in the dullness, this year. You worked too hard finding peace in the quiet, this year. You reminded yourself to relish the home you got to call your own. How you truly felt you belonged here. You marveled over how fate handed you these house keys. You smiled when you remembered how you'd come to fall in love here, in more ways than one. 

Then there was a knock at the door.

Mulling toward the front of your home, you expected a delivery or two. You'd ordered gifts for your neighbors this year, and some for yourself too of course. You were determined to have a happy fucking holiday.

But the man at your door was more of a gift than you'd asked for, this year. 

Eddie was there, grinning wide, wringing his hands. His hair was a little longer, the longest you'd ever seen it. His frame was toned, his face was full of warm color and his eyes were bright and clear. He was a vision. He was so damn beautiful.

"What's all this?" You smiled, letting a laugh of surprise escape your lips. 

"Surprise? I hope I'm not intruding." Eddie rose a hopeful brow, his dark deep eyes peering into yours for the first time in too damn long.

"Shut the fuck up and come inside you fool." You smiled and widened the doorway, stepping aside so Eddie could enter. Your heart hammered at the sight of him, your soul buzzed to life at the realization that he was here, he was really fucking here.

"Just like old times, aye?" Eddie grinned, letting his gaze float across the home he'd discovered with you, a year ago. 

"Hopefully not." You noted, crossing your fingers this visit led to a more positive and promising outcome than your last time together in this home. Eddie laughed and asked how you were liking it, complimenting the changes you'd made since last he saw.

You rambled for a bit about a particularly hard renovation and another story about how perfectly another came together. Then you asked if he was hungry. It was almost dinner time. 

Before you knew it, you were mixing up your famous pasta sauce to the tune of Eddie's story telling. He made you laugh so hard you cried, and nearly burnt yourself stumbling to catch your breath near the oven. He ate your dinner with gratitude and answered your questions about how his life had been going. Eddie spoke about a tiny apartment and a sparse kitchen and an empty schedule. Eddie admitted it had been hard, but that he was finally in a place he felt he had control over. Eddie helped you clean up and let you make some hot cocoa's because it was the damn season.

You led Eddie to the living room, warm mugs in hand, rambling back and forth about the year you'd spent apart. You spoke about making new friends and considering calling your label back. You mentioned how much you missed him, like a lot.

"You're not mad I'm here?" Eddie cautioned, setting his mug on the coffee table and turning to face you. He rested an elbow on the back of the sofa and his head in his hand.

"Why would I be mad, Eddie?" Your mind boggled, unable to consider feeling anything besides unbridled glee at the mere thought of the man's presence.

"Because last time I saw you, I said I couldn't come here. And now I've just invited myself over all of a sudden. I'll understand if-"

"No, I'm not mad. I didn't think you'd never show up. Maybe that's the hopeless romantic in me." You shrugged, smiled and dipped your chin toward your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassed blush.

"Romanic, eh?" 

"I never stopped loving you, Eddie." Your voice was a whisper. Eddies eyes burned into yours. His gaze was full of desire you recalled rising up in him before. His gaze was full of adoration you remembered him expressing. His dark chestnut gaze was familiar and warm and so nice to stare back into after too damn long.

"Okay I'm gonna say something, then. You can kick me out after this. But I'm gonna say it, okay?" Eddie seemed to decide. 

"O-okay."

"In rehab I did a lot of thinking about the past. What I fucked up. What I lost. But when I got out, I started to realize I had forever in front of me. And there was so much I still had the opportunity to fix and change. And I realized there was no version of forever I want to spend without you. I know this is like... the third time we've come to this crossroad but..." 

Suddenly Eddie was sliding off the sofa and kneeling before you on one knee. Suddenly, he was reaching in his pocket. Suddenly you were staring at a ring. The stone was tigers eye and the band was gold. It was what you tried to pick out all that time ago.

"I'm a mess." Eddie proclaimed "I cannot promise to make your life better. but I can promise I want to be a part of your life. I want to marry you. Actually this time."

"For real?" You gasped a chuckle, sniffing away the spring of tears that clouded your vision from focusing on every little detail of this perfect fucking moment.

"Very much for real. No contracts. No reason besides the fact that I love you." 

You were nodding, holding out your left hand and struggling to suck in a breath before you could say yes a dozen times in a row. The space in your stomach where despair often bloomed was now only full of hope and assurance and calm. The space on your finger that had been left bare since your tossed that ugly diamond ring into the ocean was now perfectly fitted with the jewel of your dreams. The space in front of you was now taken up by Eddie. And he was finally all yours.

///

New York 1988-

"So after Kelsey went to prison and Eddie got out of rehab and moved to Hawaii with me, we got lawfully married, got a dog, helped each other rediscover music."

"The release of your new album suggests you and Eddie are a duo now. Do either of you plan on making solo records again?"

"I don't." Eddie chimed in, finally settling at your side in the booth with a fresh soda in hand. "I'm too unhinged without her around. Plus, she clearly makes music better. It's because of her touch we won album of the year. We probably lost to Paul Simon in 86' because there was too much of my misguided influence on Steel and Stone." Eddie laughed and you shook your head. 

"Don't discredit yourself."

"Will there be a coin toss to decide who gets to keep the Grammy?" Rolling Stone chuckled.

"We'll probably keep it on the mantel where we both can see."

After that interview ended, Brooke picked you both up from the lounge and let you stay in her loft until your flight back to the Island was due the next morning. You didn't wake her when the both of you got up and snuck off. But you left a letter on her counter, explaining that she deserved an award for putting up with the pair of you after all this time. So, you left the Grammy on her counter too. ///

Hawaii 1990- You opened the front door with one hand and balanced a bag of produce with the other. The man at that bodega at the edge of town was still selling veggies from his garden. Even though he walked with a cane now he'd manage his way to sell you produce for half price every weekend. 

You breezed through your home, toward the kitchen where you rested your bags on the counter next to a radio that had been left on. Right on cue, Eddie made his way in from out back, dripping ocean water on the rug you put down to protect the hardwood floors. 

"Wanna come out there with me while the waves are still calm?" He wondered, finding a towel and kissing your cheek as a morning greeting. You'd been brave enough recently to wade in the water a little deeper than ever before, with Eddie at your side, and only when the tide was calm. 

"I'm making breakfast now," You waved off your husbands offer, catching a glimpse of your tiger eye ring in the sun rays through the window curtains.

"Then I'll help." Eddie smiled, stealing the tomatoes you were in the process of washing clean. He took the food to begin prepping and turned up the radio on his way, a song you'd both written played. You watched as Eddie helped make your meal and listened as he sang to you and thanked God for the music that made it possible for your paths to cross and connect together. 

What you might write next together was just as an exciting thought as what the pair of you might watch on the telly later. Life was easy to find love within when Eddie really clearly loved the hell out of you. This house felt like a home with him in it. Eddie was finally home... and so were you.

///

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #fem!reader

[sunkissed-zegras]

✮ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬, zegras' have more fun

♡ ─ summary | set after this instagram post. parker invites stass to a party after a football and somehow, it turns into luke and stass talking about "them"

♡ ─ warnings | unedited, mention of drinking, slight angst, parker slander (poor guy), nothing else!

♡ ─ taglist | made a new whole new form for my au! fill out if you're interested!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay y'all, this au is back!!!!! finally had some motivation to finish up :) i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, PLEASE SEND IN SOME AU THOUGHTS!! literally anything, i just wanna hear some feedback and thoughts!

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September 29th, 2022

"I am not going out with Jack, Trevor." Stass punctuated as she spoke, her expression annoyed. She was currently facetiming with her brother when she should've been studying for her Chemistry midterm.

Her macbook was wide open as she laid in her bed, looking at the call. She knew the only reason he had been calling was to address those stupid rumors online.

"I know you aren't, he woulda told me." Trevor leaned back in his chair, a frown playing on his lips as he glanced at his sister on the screen. "He was flirting with you, though."

"Yeah, so what?" Stass responded. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Hasn't he always flirted with me, why's it a big deal now?"

"You know why, Stass." Trevor sighed, his frustration evident. You did know why, but it was just another baseless rumor from when you two were teenagers, it didn't matter.

"Luke does not like me, okay?"

It had been a joke since Stass had met the brothers that somehow, she were gonna end up dating one of them. Stass never how that started but all she knew is that it pissed her and Trevor off, because it wasn't true. Well, for the most part.

"Look, I'm not saying he does or doesn't. I'm just saying you have to be delicate when it comes to these kinda things, especially after this summer, with the whole lake house thing-"

"Stop saying that."

"Stop saying what?" Trevor's eyebrows raised, his tone annoyed as he waited for Stassie to continue.

Stassie's frustration bubbled to the surface. "Stop bringing up the stupid lake house incident like it's some kind of defining moment in our lives. It was just a misunderstanding, and we've moved on from it. Besides, Luke and I are fine. We've always been fine."

"Dude, relax. I'm not saying you guys aren't fine or whatever, stop getting so goddamn defensive. I'm just saying this entire situation is just sensitive for Luke, alright, tread lightly."

Stass didn't feel like arguing right now, especially over this stupid topic. She should be studying for her midterm but this situation seemed to keep coming up. "Luke is fine. But okay, whatever. I won't stir the pot anymore."

"Just be how you are, you know? Just minus the flirtiness." Trevor sighed. "I guess rizz is just hereditary."

"I can't believe you just said rizz out loud, Trevor. That was so cringe." Stass rolled her eyes as she looked back at the screen, her brother laughing back at her.

"Shut up. But I gotta go, I have an early practice tomorrow."

"Okay, Trev. I'll talk to you later, goodnight. I love you."

"Love ya too-"

She hung up quickly and shut her macbook, sighing. She could not believe that this whole thing was caused by a few comments left by Jack, they were meaningless. At least, that was what she was trying to convince herself. Before she could open her macbook to study again, she heard a knock from her door.

"Come in."

Parker came into the room quickly, "Hey Stass."

Stassie eyed Parker suspiciously as he entered the room, her eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. "Hey, Parker. What's up?"

Parker gave her his best charming smile as he approached her bed, taking a seat beside her. Stassie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as he continued, "Listen, I need a favor. The guys and I are going to a party after the game on Friday, and I know you swore off alcohol, but can you still come with us?"

Stassie furrowed her brows, sensing there was more to his request. "I was already planning on going to the game, you know that-"

"Okay great, can you bring your short friend? Shit, what's her name... Uhh... Samantha?"

Stassie's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know a Samantha, do you mean Chloe?"

Parker scratched his head, looking momentarily flustered. "Yeah, Chloe! That's the one. Can you take her? She's really pretty and I wanna get to know her."

"Why don't you be a man and just dm her?" Stass half joked as she stared back at him.

"Shut up, dude and just do me a favor, alright?"

Stass shrugged, knowing Parker well enough to understand his banter. "Alright, alright fine. But she's way outta your league. Like wayyy outta your league."

Parker rolled his eyes, playfully swatting at Stassie's arm. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Stass. But you miss 100% of the shots you don't make."

She couldn't help but shake her head at Parker's attempt at motivational quotes. "Yeah, well, just don't embarrass yourself too much, okay? Chloe's not exactly easy to impress."

Parker grinned confidently. "Oh, don't worry about me. I've got charisma for days."

Stass cringed once again before she sighed. "Whatever, can you leave now, I'm tryna study."

Parker chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm out. Thanks, Stass."

"You owe me a vodka soda Friday night." Stass smiled as she looked up at the brunette.

"I thought you swore off alcohol-"

"That was last week, okay? Now leave before I change my mind." Stass flashed a playful grin as she spoke, watching Parker get up and walk towards the door.

"Okay, whatever."

──

"I think I'm gonna step out for a sec, Chloe. I'll see you two later." Stass took that as her cue to leave before she wiggled her eyebrows at Parker, walking away from her two friends. Now that her mission was complete, she had to go find some water. She has had one too many vodka sodas and she didn't wanna be hungover tomorrow morning.

As she searched the entire house for any sign of water, she soon gave up and sighed. This was a frat house, the only thing they had was beer and chips everywhere, what was she expecting? As she stumbled through the crowd, trying to find an exit, she felt someone grab her arm.

Before she could pull away, she looked up at the tall figure and realized it was only Luke. "By any chance, do you know where I can find some water that isn't from a sink?"

Luke smiled as he nodded, "Yeah I'll take you, they have some bottles up stairs."

Relieved, Stassie let out a grateful sigh. "Thank you, Lukey. I owe you one." The nickname rolled off her tongue easily as she spoke.

Luke offered her his arm, guiding her through the crowded house with ease. Stassie couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence, despite the chaotic atmosphere surrounding them. As they reached a quieter hallway, Luke opened a door to a room with a small table stacked with water bottles.

"Here you go," Luke said, handing her a bottle with a knowing smile.

"Thank you, Luke. You're officially my hero tonight," Stassie said, taking a grateful sip from the water bottle.

Luke chuckled, leaning against the wall. "Anytime. So, why'd you need water so urgently? Too many vodka sodas?"

Stassie laughed, feeling a bit more at ease. "You know me too well. Parker talked me into it. Long story."

Luke raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his expression. "Parker causing trouble again, huh?"

Stassie nodded, taking another sip. "Always. But hey, at least I'm not stumbling around looking for water like an idiot anymore. Thanks for saving me."

Luke's smile widened, genuine warmth in his eyes. "Anytime, Stass. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

There was a sudden silence between the two as they looked at each other, Luke's gaze warm and Stass' was a little... uncertain? They had been friends for a long time, but there was something different in the air tonight, something Stassie couldn't quite put her finger on. Like the lake house.

As the silence stretched, Stassie's heart rate quickened, unsure of what to say next. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to read the expression in Luke's eyes. She felt a subtle flush creeping up her cheeks, breaking the moment with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. Just need to pace myself better next time," she said, trying to brush off the odd tension that had momentarily settled between them.

"So, you and Jack have been talking?" Luke finally had ripped the bandaid as he studied Stass' movements and her expression, which had shifted from uncomfortable to slightly annoyed.

"Not more than usual, why?"

"What do you mean, why? I'm just asking, Stass." Luke seemed to be getting defensive too as his eyebrows knitted.

Stass sighed, feeling the tension between them mounting. "It just feels like you're prying, Luke. What's with the sudden interest in my conversations with Jack? And you guys are brothers, if you're so interested, ask him."

"It's not about that, Stass. You know that. We just never got over what happened at the lake house, or at least I thought we didn't."

"What happened, Luke? We kissed, so what? It's not like I'd do anything with Jack anyway. And plus, you're the one that hooked up with that other girl, not me." Stassie shot back, her annoyance evident in her expression.

Luke's jaw tightened, a defensive glint in his eyes. "We're not talking about me right now, Stass. We're talking about you and Jack. And don't deflect this onto something else."

"There's nothing to talk about, Jack's always been flirty with me and it's always been a funny joke until now. If you have a problem with it, talk to him, he's your brother."

Luke's gaze hardened, a flicker of hurt crossing his eyes. "It's not just about Jack. It's about us, about our friendship. You act like the kiss at the lake house meant nothing."

Stassie rolled her eyes, her impatience showing. "Luke, we were drunk, it was a momentary lapse in judgment. We've moved past it, or at least I thought we did."

"Fuck, Stass." Luke ran his fingers through his curly hair before letting out an annoyed sigh. "Fine, then. We can move on."

"Luke, I like our friendship." Stass sighed, defeated. "I don't wanna make it into something awkward, something that can get in the way of an already amazing friendship. Things are just better that way, okay? And we just forget that stupid kiss ever fucking happened and move on?"

Luke's expression softened, hurt evident in his eyes. "Yeah, okay. We can move on."

Stassie nodded, a sense of relief washing over her. "Great. So, can we just put this behind us and focus on being friends?"

Luke offered a small smile, his tone gentle. "Yeah, of course. Friends it is."

"Great, now, let's get back to the party before Parker starts freaking out." Stassie suggested, eager to shift the focus away from their tense conversation.

Luke chuckled, the tension between them dissipating. "Yeah, good idea. Last thing we need is Parker going on one of his rants again."

"You guys left me again, oh my gosh, Luke, I thought I was your favorite freshie." Stass mocked Parker as Luke laughed along, opening the door as the two of them made their way downstairs.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey #nhl oneshot #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #zegras' have more fun au #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes blurb #new jersey devils #hughes brothers #jack hughes #nj devils #jack hughes blurb #luke hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x y/n

[silkspunweb]

A Gift from Santa

w.c.: 4.2k

it's just delusional fluff. husband!nanami x reader, papamin in his glory. a very late christmas fic.

a/n: As President of the Haitchverse Fanclub, thank you for all you do for us fellow kento/hiromi lovers @pseudowho ❤️

School days were coming to a stop as the days ended sooner, the air was frostier, and the holidays got closer. You mentally scolded yourself for not ending class earlier this week so the kids could finally get some time off when you hear Itadori think aloud, "Ah, we only have a few days of school left before the holiday break, huh."

"Hmm? Oh yeah," Kugisaki responded, "I was going to do some Christmas shopping."

"You're going to do it at peak Christmas shopping time??"

"Why not? Might as well get some shopping done for a new year wardrobe!" She snickered.

Noticing your curiosity, Fushiguro turned to you and asked, "What about you, Mrs. Nanami?"

"Me?"

"Yeah! What do you and Nanamin plan on doing for Christmas?" Itadori perked at the idea of his favorite teacher and favorite mentor doing mundane holiday things.

You responded without thinking much about the question, "I think we're going to work on dinner together and have some family over." Though, as soon as those words came out, there was a sense of deflation in the air.

"Ah, I see." They all shared a look, then Itadori spoke up, "I think this is my first time spending it without Grandpa."

"Now that you mention it, this is my first time spending it in Tokyo," Kugisaki shrugged.

"Usually, my sister plans dinner for us," Fushiguro said.

You could almost hear the lonely sigh they gave out as they tightly tugged their lips into a curt smile. Your heart went out to these kids. 'They're still so young. They shouldn't be spending Christmas by themselves in their dorms.' You frowned, trying to think of ways to spend time with them without making them think it was out of pity. There must be something their teacher can do. After all, what's closest to a parent figure than a teacher? Perhaps this was something your husband could solve.

Your husband. That's it. You quickly packed your bag, waving the kids off as they said their goodbyes and left the room. 'Would Kento oppose this?' You wondered, 'Nah, surely even he can't be that callous.' You headed straight for the door before pausing, "Ah, but he's definitely going to mock me for this."

You got home before Kento and sent him a quick message that you'd be preparing dinner. It was a little crazy, that idea of yours, but the craziest part would be if Ken would actually play along in your schemes (as he would call it).

"You know, you shouldn't poke your nose where it doesn't belong." You remembered him telling you that right before you took up the position to fill in as Gojo's substitute. "You're only going to get attached to them, Darling." Psh, what did he know? Only just about everything about you.

"I'm not going to get attached, Ken, I'm just doing a favor for an old friend. Besides, those kids are going to join us on the battlefield someday, maybe even tomorrow. They need someone to guide them properly, especially when Gojo's not around." You grumbled on the drive home, peering at him from the corner of your eyes as he chuckled.

"Sure love, whatever you say." He remained focused on the street before him,  "Ten dollars says you do, though."

"Nanami Kento," you faked a gasp," are you making a bet with me right now?"

"Nothing wrong with a little indulgence, is there?" You turned to him with a raised brow. There was a playful glint to his eye; he knew what he was doing here, baiting you into these childish games. There was no real prize here; the money would stay where it belonged, but he got the right to say he won.

You scoffed to yourself, 'No one would believe me if I said that my husband would partake in stupid bets like this.' You rolled your eyes at him, "Alright, ten if you win. But if I win, I want to change the color of our bedroom."

He raised a brow at you, "What's wrong with our bedroom color?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, our new room color is just going to be a reminder of my new victory."

"You're a little too confident here, don't you think," he chuckled.

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. How dare he be right about everything. You felt the embarrassment on your face as you mixed the curry roux in the pot. Ugh, he was going to be so smug when he heard your stupid plans.

You could back down now, there was no reason you couldn't. Hell, maybe if it was a month ago, you wouldn't even think a second thought about these kids. But Kento, he just had to be good with children. You didn't think much of it when he came to pick you up from your mission with the kids last month. You didn't think much of it when he asked you and the kids if you guys ate yet. You didn't think much of it when he invited them to join you guys for dinner at home, seeing that it was late at night. You didn't think much of it when he offered them the couch and the spare bedrooms. You didn't think much of it when he told Itadori to eat his vegetables, handed Kugisaki a spare hair tie, and gave his seat to Fushiguro at the dinner table. You didn't think much of it when he told them to go relax, cool off, and that he would handle the dishes. But man, you saw the fond look in his eyes when he dropped them off at their dorm the next morning. You saw how happy he was to have them around, to occupy the spaces of your shared home, to relax and share a meal with these kids at the dinner table. Call it camaraderie, mentor-mentee relationship, or authoritative affections. Call it whatever you want, but Kento was meant to be a dad.

You smiled at the pot of curry in front of you. You knew he was going to mock you, but you couldn't help but wish that you were making this dinner for five right now instead of two. You knew that even though he was going to tease the hell out of you for feeling this way, the feelings were mutual and he wanted them around too. So, you sucked in a deep breath when you heard his car pull up in the driveway, turned off the stove, and made towards the door to welcome him in.

You opened the door before he could even pull out his keys, throwing yourself into his arms as he walked in.

He leaned in, putting his face into the crook of your neck, “Well hello to you, too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, taking in the little things that made his home whole. 

“Welcome home,” you pressed your face into his chest, unwilling to let him see the look of defeat evident in your eyes. 

He pulled away to look at you, your eyes downcasted and a slight puff in your cheeks. “What sort of trouble did you get into this time?” He mused. 

“I need your help, Kento.” He quirked a brow at you as you suddenly helped him take off his winter coat and scarf. “There's something bothering me at school.” A light tug to loosen his tie, “It's been killing me all day,” another tug, “and I just don't know what to do.” You glared at the offending piece of fabric as if it was the cause of your demise. “Will you help me?” 

“That depends,” he hummed, “what's got you so worked up that you need my help at school?” You gave out an exaggerated sigh, walking back into the kitchen to plate him his dinner. He followed, washing his hands and setting up the table. “Is this about the kids?” He doesn't even look at you, knowing you'd do anything to deny it. It was childish, you both knew it, but you couldn't help the heat creeping up your back. How does he always know? There was a pause, then another. You placed two plates onto the dinner table, sitting down without another word, red staining your cheeks as you flushed in embarrassment. He sat down and chuckled, “I'm right, aren't I?” You scrunched your nose at him, debating to deny it or admit your grievances. “Darling,” he reached his hand across the table for you to meet his in the middle, “is this about the kids?”

Another deep sigh, “Yes Kento, it's about the kids.” You rolled your eyes, slipping him a ten dollar bill across the table. 

He chuckled, “You know that's not what I wanted in the first place.”

“Ken, really?” You frowned at him, placing one hand on top of his. His brows quirked up, making you run your other hand through your hair. “Alright, alright. You were right. I grew attached to the kids. I said I wouldn't, but I did. You warned me and you told me so. Now stop being a butt head, and help me with this.”

“I was going to tell you to say, ‘please,’ but this'll do too,” he gave a gentle squeeze. “Now, what did you have in mind?”

“I need you to dress as Santa.”

“No.”

“But—

“Absolutely not.”

“Ken—”

“Nope.” He met your offending glare with indifference on his own face. “Why on Earth would I dress as Santa.”

“It's for the experience.”

“You think I should experience wearing red velvet and a—”

“No, not for you! The experience is for them.” His face deadpanned. “I'm serious, I think you should dress as Santa, like when dads pretend to be Santa for their—”

“They're not our kids.”

“You don't mean that.” 

“Of all things you want me to do—”

“It'd make a fond memory for them!”

“To put me in a big red coat and that ugly—”

“You wouldn't even have to wear the beard!” He gave you a pointed look. “Okay, the beard would help a lot, but Ken—”

“No.” You opened your mouth in protest, “Absolutely not.” A pout formed on your face, cheeks starting to puff in frustration. He gave out a big sigh, “I'll get them gifts to open for Christmas. Won't that suffice?” He poked one of your inflated cheeks. “We can even head over to celebrate with them if it'll make you happy.” You refused to look at him at this point, disappointed in his lack of enthusiasm for your plans. 

Getting up to clear your dinner, you grumbled as you walked past him to the sink, “They don't have anyone to go home to like we do. I just want to give them something happy to remember.” Your words hung uncomfortably in the air as he stared down at what was left of his dinner. He heard the tap turn on, then off. You left him to simmer in his thoughts. Another big sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, he quietly pulled out his phone and made some orders online. 

“They're not our kids.” Why did he say that? He knew you saw how happy he was whenever the kids were over for dinner. 

“You don't mean that.” You were right. He didn't mean it. He loved every minute of it when the kids stayed over, even if dinner time was rowdier and messier than usual. Even if he had to give up some of his comfort and private space to have these kids around. Even when he had to scold them for something as miniscule as eating their vegetables out of his work hours, for goodness sake. “I just want to give them something happy to remember.” He frowned. This could've been a happy memory for you, too. After all, it was just one day, probably not even the entire day in a stupid red suit. So what if he thought it was ugly, that dumb suit could've really made his wife happy. He groaned, opening his phone once again to make another impulsive purchase. He may have won your little bet, but it seems like you won something else after all. Even if you didn't know it yet. 

After he cleared his own plates, he made his way to get ready for bed so he could return to you. He walked through the bedroom door, disappointed to find you facing the other way. You weren't even sparing a glance at your husband nor making any cheeky comments about how wet he looked and how low that towel hung around his waist. Nothing, zilch. He sighed again, throwing on a pair of checkered pajama bottoms before making his way next to you. He had his arm over your waist, testing the waters, and a little glad that you hadn't shaken him off. 

“Good night,” you grumbled. 

He pressed his own “good night” into the crown of your head. 

You woke up a little earlier than usual with your husband's arms around you tighter than it was last night. With one arm across your chest and the other around your waist, he had your hips flush against his. It was so pleasant, you almost forgot why you had your back facing him to begin with. You blinked the sleep away, mentally at war with yourself to either stay or to forcefully peel away from his embrace. You shouldn't, ‘He doesn't deserve it,’ you pouted. ‘Even if I reaaaallly want to, I should be firm about this.’ You tried to reason yourself as you felt him shift from behind, only pulling you in closer, tighter. His face was in your hair, his puffs of breath tempting you to go back to sleep. You mentally screamed, ‘Damn him! I need to— ugh. It's so comfortable.’ You wanted to cry. This was the ideal morning, but you had to get up now if you wanted to work on setting up the classroom for the kids. Time was of the essence, and since somebody denied you of some good, fun Christmas spirits, you just had to make up for the non-participating party's lack of enthusiasm. 

You willed yourself to pull away from your husband as you slipped out of the comforter, not making it far before he had his arm around you again. “Stay.” You didn't realize he had sat up when you tried to sneak off. If not for the arm that wound around your belly, you would've mistaken his low morning voice for something else. It was something akin to dark chocolate and warmed honey, running deep and slow; it woke you up in the morning. You wanted to whine at how unfair he was being. How affectionate and cuddly for someone so stern and callous last night. You shook your head and quickly pulled yourself out of his arms and into the shower. 

‘I have to stay strong,’ you repeated to yourself under the freezing water. After getting dressed, you went to the kitchen where you found your distracting husband in just his checkered pajama bottoms. ‘Oh, dear lord, I am not your strongest soldier.’ He gave a soft smile, his hair sticking to one way and the other. You wanted to run your hand through it so bad, but if you got any closer, you might not leave as early as you had hoped. 

“G’morning.” There he goes again. Him and his stupid, perfect face, and his stupid, perfect— “I made you tea and breakfast.” Oh no. 

You forced yourself to grab the coffee pot instead, “No thanks, I plan on leaving to work earlier today.” You didn't even bother with the cream and sugar, needing the bitter taste to jolt you out of this domestically inviting scene. Nope, nope, nope. You grabbed a piece of toast, gave him a quick peck on the cheek for good morning, and rushed to the door before he could stop you from leaving again. He blinked at the whirlwind that was his wife, frowning when you slammed the door. The door opened again, “I'll be a little late today! Don't wait up!” His frown deepened at the second door slam. Knowing you, you were probably going to set up some lights and a small tree in the classroom or at the dorms just to make it a little more festive for the kids at school. 

“I must've really messed up,” he scratched the back of his neck, “No use in moping about it now.” He sighed and eyed the unwanted cup, then went to check his phone.

You were quieter than usual for the next couple of days, not so much as being upset with him, but more distracted with your thoughts. You already had the lights up to the kids’ surprise that one morning and promised them that the tree will have more ornaments the next day. They tried to wave you off, saying, “No need ma'am, you already do enough for us,” and “Really, we're fine, it's just Christmas.” You hushed them, something about ‘the presents are already wrapped’ and you ‘already mailed Santa for them’. You knew they were old enough not to believe in some merry folklore, but you wanted them to look forward to something this week. You checked your phone to see if the surprise was going to arrive on time. 

‘Today's Wednesday, and the package is going to come tonight. Then break starts…Friday?’ Your brows furrowed, ‘Would I have time to get dinner for them too? Ugh, I should've told Kento to prepare food instead of wearing a Santa suit or something. That would've been smarter. Ah! What about the second years? Did I buy their gifts yet?’ The day ended, leaving only two days left for you to prepare, so you hurried home to think of gift ideas for the others. ‘Socks are only cool when you're in college and realize you need to appreciate useful things, like parents who provide socks,’ you scoffed to yourself. ‘What would high schoolers even like? Are CD albums still cool? But what do they listen to? Do they even listen to TommyHeavenly6 or L’Arc-en-Ciel? Oh god, am I outdated now? Are Scandal still cool??? Ah, focus! Now’s not the time. What would these kids like for Christmas?”

You pulled up into your driveway, making your way to your front door, brows still furrowed as you nearly walked into your husband, “Oomph.”

“Welcome home,” he said warmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he helped you out of your work shoes. “How was work?”

You eyed him momentarily before speaking, “It's going well, I think. The kids are…Well, they're losing focus now that break is just two days away, so it's hard to get them focused on the lesson. Itadori nearly ran into the door this morning because he forgot about doors.” You chuckled fondly, “Though I suppose that's my fault for putting up all those Christmas decorations. I probably got them excited and whatnot.” You tiptoed ever so slightly to kiss him on the cheek, “What did you do today?”

“Had a mission that ended early, so I made dinner,” he said. It wasn't a total lie, he did make dinner, but instead of a mission, he actually drove around town, picking up what you missed on your not-so-secret Christmas plans list. He knew it wasn't going to fully make up for his harsh words, but you were going to appreciate it either way. 

Dinner went smoothly. Better actually, now that you were both hip to hip at the sink, washing dishes together. You two were back to your usual routine; he connected Bluetooth to your phone, and you got to play music that made you nostalgic for your teen years again. He rolled his eyes when you blew sudsy bubbles at him, “Real mature,” he hip bumped you before flicking water onto your glasses. His heart swelled seeing you look at him, like it was his first time again, seeing how your smile widened the slightest of increments or how your eyes darkened a little more with mirth. With another nudge, he insisted you showered and got ready for bed, “I can handle the rest,” he waved you away. 

After you showered, you went to bed, tucking yourself underneath his chin, and pressed a kiss to his sternum for “good night.” He could've melted right there and then under your touch, but instead held you close, hoping the next few days were going to be to be easier for the both of you. 

Thursday went by fast, and all of a sudden it was Friday. ‘D-Day’ as you'd called it in your head. ‘Kento’s gonna be at work, so he probably won't make it to see the kids open their gifts.’ You frowned as you remembered the shaky handwritten cards you wrote for the second years, embarrassed that you had to stick to gift cards in the end. Nothing wrong with gift cards, but you would've liked to be as personal with their gifts as you were with the first years. 

It was a bit before lunch that you decided to give them a short break, and quickly made your way to the bathroom to change into your outfit. It was a silly oversized red coat, and you realized why Kento had been so stubborn about wearing such a thing. You laughed at yourself in the mirror, ‘Okay, I get it, it is ugly.’ You made a beeline for the staff room, imagining Kento’s reaction to you and the hideous outfit, but nothing could've prepared you for what you saw next. Your husband, the love of your life, the most stubborn man on Earth, stood before you in the same exact outfit. You could've sworn you were in the soda can commercial with how cold and stiff his face was. 

“Kento.”

“Yes?”

“What on Earth are you wearing?”

“I could say the same to you,” he raised an eyebrow, eyeing you up and down. 

“I thought you didn't want to,” you trailed off, not sure if you should be pointing and laughing or crying over your husband in those ridiculous clothes. 

“I didn't.”

“Then why are you—”

“You were right.” You stared at him with your mouth wide open, “The beard does help a lot.” He offered a taut smile and you jumped into his arms, happy enough that you could have married this man a second time.

“I can't believe you,” you buried your face into his neck, “you silly, silly man.”

He let out what sounded like a small laugh, “Let's go before I change my mind about this outfit.” He gave you a peck on the forehead and went to pick up the bags off the table. 

“You got them gifts???” He raised his eyebrow once more, opening the bag to show you the contents. Your face fell at the trays of food, “Really??”

“Hey, these kids are big eaters, and besides, you left food off your list.”

“Ah! You saw that?” You flushed, unable to contain the smile growing wider on your face. 

“Of course I saw it, it was the only thing you looked at all week,” he rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his free one as you both walked back to the classroom. 

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Dunno, but next time, how about you don't reject my—” 

A water bottle fell to the floor when the door opened. 

“Na-nanamin?”

“Why are there two Santas?” 

There was a camera shutter click. “I'll send this to you guys later,” Kugisaki smiled. 

“But seriously, what are you two wearing?” 

Kento sighed, “There was a little mix up. Mrs. Claus here almost left some of the gifts back at home, so I'm here to deliver the rest of the presents.” 

You smiled at him before turning to them, “You should go call for the second years, tell them to come inside for lunch.” 

The kids immediately rushed outside to bring the upperclassmen in. Something about, “Hurry up,” “Food’s here,” and “Forget the food, hurry before he changes out of those clothes!”

No one understood why Kento was dressed as Santa. After all, he wasn't technically their teacher. Sure, they’d had dinner with him a few times, but did that really warrant buying them presents and helping them celebrate with a Christmas meal? Or maybe he lost a bet? No, Nanamin would never take part in bets. Then what was it? They weren't exactly sure. All they knew was that the way he smiled at his wife was the same as when he sat at the dinner table with them at home. The Nanamis sure love Christmas, they joked. You watched all five kids lean in towards your husband as Kugisaki whipped her phone out for a selfie with Santa. It reminded you that you ought to capture the moment while Kento was still willing to participate. With another click of a shutter, you took the picture of your smiling husband and your kids. 

“Darling,” he gave you a warning glare. 

“Oh, c’mon Santa, lighten up,” Maki joked and the others giggled. 

You poked his side, “Yeah, Santa, who knows when I'll get to see you like this again.”

Nothing could have prepared you for his response; he gave you another flat look, then replied, “Probably when we have our own kids.”

credits to @cafekitsune for the beautiful Christmas banner

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #papamin ♡ #everyone needs to read pseudowho's work #gotta post this before someone takes my crown title #thanks to my best friend too cuz she's been pushing me to write and post for years now but she's not on here so it's hard to tag her #thank you to the two who supported me ❤️ #and thank you for those of you who are reading ❤️ #stay warm and safe :) #silk spun tales

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

*SPOILER FIC FOR LOKI S2 FINALE*

Do not read until you have watched or are otherwise ready to be spoiled. THIS IS YOUR WARNING!

Idunn & The Golden Apple

In the village of Time’s Ridge, they say when a little girl is sacrificed, she is adopted by the gods and granted any wish she makes. When the orphan Idunn is driven over the side, she blinks and finds herself before a mysterious entity known as the God of Stories. Luckily, in order to gain his favor, she brings a small sacrifice of her own before his glowing throne. 

Characters: Loki, OFC (child), cameos of Thor and Mobius  Genre: Tragedy, Comfort, Found Family Word Count: 3.3k Content Warnings: SPOILERS FOR LOKI S2 FINALE!, Loki gives off dad vibes, child sacrifice 

This time, the annual sacrifice at Time's Ridge was almost a scandal. Woeful Idunn was only ten-years-old.

She stood on the precipice, overlooking the glowing green abyss she’d once played beside thoughtlessly, unaware at the time that it was about to become her grave. Her thick red hair was woven into two braids, laced with daisy blossoms. Idunn was wearing a gray frock meant to symbolize her mortality and humility, she kept her hands in the pocket of her simple, tattered pinafore, her left hand curled around a small ball hidden away.

Instead of weeping like most sacrifices did, Idunn was choosing to go with at least a little dignity (not that anyone was there to be awed by her maturity--being an orphan, no one really cared how she looked anyway). Perhaps she wasn’t even all that upset about being picked by the Leader to die on behalf of Time’s Ridge. A less-brained individual might be flattered by being selected. 

Of course, Idunn knew better. The only reason she was here was because no one would miss her.

The green glow of the bottomless pit was somewhat new, and that was when The Ritual began, some two generations before Idunn was born and left to die by a helpless mother. No explanation was given, but the green aura of the trench appeared, and suddenly: the perpetual storms plaguing the fields ceased. People stopped disappearing mysteriously…at least until things began getting worse again. Then, only a few years before Idunn was born, a child fell into the trench and disappeared, but time and the weather stabilized again, and so it was accepted that  only the gift of a child’s wish brought personally to whatever god watched over Time’s Ridge, the sad little village at the end of the universe, would bring safety back. 

It was always such an honor to be picked to die, until it was your turn. Then, if you were fortunate enough to have a parent of means, your only hope to live to see the following year was to have them bribe the Leader to pick someone else. 

“Idunn, Blessed Daughter of Time’s Ridge!” The Leader began his ceremonial monologue, which was surprisingly ho-hum for being the prologue to child homicide. “Today, you are being sent into the Higher Worlds to seek out aid for our small community--”

I’m not waiting for this, the little girl thought. Let’s just get it over with. I have nothing to stay for. She covertly pulled the golden ball from her pocket and held it up, slowly turning before the crowd. 

“May I eat before I jump?” she asked. Gasps rang out. 

“Where did she get one of those?” someone called out.

The Leader smiled sadly, shaking his head. “You may, Little Idunn. Though I am not sure as to where you found one. But be aware, silly girl, even one of those won’t save your conscious life now.” 

Idunn  twisted her lip, looking at the golden apple in her hand, shrugging and taking a large bite. The taste was as if the Creators themselves invented the perfect sweet. The crisp skin snapped between her teeth, and the delicious juices felt almost like a cool, gentle tea rolling over her tongue. 

I just hope the weird peddler who sold it to me was right, Idunn thought bravely, looking down at the apple as the bite mark she made instantly healed itself, creating a perfectly full piece once more. 

A bolt of lightning broke overhead, causing the little girl to jump backwards, startled, her courage failing her for the first time. 

“An honorable sacrifice should not be afraid of a little lightning,” mocked a cruel adolescent from the crowd. 

Idunn looked back over her shoulder at her glowing tomb. “I’m not overly fond of what follows,” she replied, deciding to turn around, the juices and magic sugars from the golden apple beginning to fall into her stomach and move around inside, warming her core. 

Work quickly, work quickly…come on…

She breathed in and raised her voice, which boomed many times larger than her petite body would suggest she could utter. “I hate you all, and I would live forever with no guilt at all if it meant each one of you got to fall into the pit in my place. I hope the timeline frays and swallows you all whole!”

The disapproving murmurs from her assembly of executions gave her a small pinch of satisfaction. One last victory for the condemned. She couldn’t delay it any more when the cruel Leader signaled for the pounding, rhythmic drums to sound. 

Fine, even if this is it for me, I don’t want to be here anyway.

The only regret Idunn had in the moment before she fell forward into the abyss was that she was born in Time’s Ridge, a place so afraid of the shifts in time and space that were otherwise so natural around their realm that they would throw children off cliffs in order to make the gods happy. 

Gods, Idunn thought. Good thing gods aren’t real. 

Idunn decided not to give the Leader the satisfaction of reciting the poetic Final Prayer of the Sacrifice, and instead did a graceful twist of her small body, her red braids flying about her face and standing out even in the twilight suns, falling over with just enough time to wave goodbye to the village before meeting her fate at the bottom of a fraying timeline’s abyss.

The little girl felt the sensation of falling…more falling…even more…then a blinding green light followed by the feeling of being lifted by a thin arm or branch---

Gods aren’t real. Gods aren’t real.  Gods aren’t real. Gods aren't--

Infinite branches of time, universes, were binding Loki to his throne amidst a sea of green matter and light, where he would be sitting until time itself decided to rip his duties from him and end existence. 

That…that would be soon, right? 

Worse than the eons that were beginning to pass before his eyes without him, promising adventures he would never have, romantic nights he would never see, were the whispers, the noises. Loki could hear every spoken voice in every timeline, but they were all a low, maddening hum that rang in his ears as he sat, legs apart, in his supernatural throne room, nothing but the years for company. Of course, the voices of those he knew in life were the loudest and hardest to hear. 

And he was hungry. So. Damn. Hungry. 

Even Gods needed to eat, but what was there to find in Loki’s palace of emerald and gold, buried underneath countless layers of timeline branches, ensnared in the prison of Yggdrasil? Loki couldn't die of starvation, but the hunger pangs would frequently send surges of pain through his core, out his arms, and as a result, a few timelines would flicker for a moment before regaining normalcy. It was likely these places would only see inclement weather or a few years of time skipped over as a result. 

It was painful, but the only way Loki could check on his few allies was through the branches tying him to his noble seat. Sometimes, he would follow the sound of Mobius’ slow voice and find his favorite timeline: where Mobius was happy, retired, living with his adult sons and their spouses and children on a cabin by the beach (three jet skis and an ATV in the garage, of course). 

He smiled as he saw OB’s TVA manuals and novels being stored away in a timeproof capsule for posterity, ensuring his legacy. The little man was never taller. 

He’d even caught a glimpse of Thor from time to time, and Loki had spent countless hours following him from afar as he traveled with a small band of space brigands. He even managed a chuckle upon seeing what Thor was getting up to: “Father would be embarrassed…and that music is terrible.” 

Not that it mattered. 

He was forever burdened with glorious purpose, just as he’d prophesied as an arrogant youth. Now, I’m gloriously burdened, Loki thought. He nearly smirked at the poetic irony, or perhaps it was justice for his past transgressions that fit the same meter. A Loki with freedom would have enjoyed the twist for what it was. 

A tear formed at the corner of his left eye at the thought. Forever. Here. No food or love or friendship to keep his heart from slowly eroding away with the millennia. 

Suddenly, the branches around Loki’s wrists began shaking, writhing in his grip, as if a blustery wind disturbed them. He looked up, his eyes following one of the timelines furthest away from his immediate sight: a gray and lethargic piece of the Tree of Life. As the other tendrils of time began shaking furiously at some invisible disturbance, this branch suddenly exploded into a thread of white hot light before curling in on itself and returning to its original state. 

Loki attempted to get to his feet, but he was still bound by the thousands of other timelines he protected. No matter, the odd shift in the air quickly subsided, at least until a brief ‘pop’ was audible from somewhere ahead of Loki’s line of vision, buried behind the twisting strings of time. 

“Odd,” analyzed the God of Stories, “but amounting to nothing.”

Alas, he was wrong. For almost immediately after his declaration that the anomaly was of no concern: a small, high voice cooed from beyond the branches. 

“H…hello?”

Loki felt his heart still, his skin cool, and a strange current in the air moved about the green chamber, rustling the hem of his cape where it met his boots. It was the first time since he took his place on the throne that it did so. 

No, it’s a trick. 

“HELLO?” 

No one, no mortal could survive being here. It’s why it had to be me…

“Is there someone here?”

No, that’s certainly another’s voice. 

Loki dared to hope after all this time. He opened his mouth to reply…but nothing fell out other than a few sharp notes and breath. Had it been so long since he’d used his vocal chords?

Out of the tangle of time streams before Loki, a diminutive, pale figure stumbled over herself, gripping something yet unseen in her hand, wearing a disgusting, dirty gray slip. A little girl, no older to existence than a spring lamb. 

Norns, it’s a child! 

“Is this heaven?” the little girl asked, brushing a fiery red braid from her shoulder and walking hesitantly into the throne room. “Or somewhere else?”

Loki’s mouth hung open, but his words still somehow failed him. 

“Are you The Creator, or some God? Are you real? I didn’t think you would be. I guess I’m glad you are.” 

The questions were pouring out of Idunn’s mouth so quickly that Loki was reminded of himself as a child, when he’d ask his mother one too many questions. 

“Maybe I should--”

“Who are you?”

Idunn was so startled at the Green King’s first successful words to her, she leapt backwards, tumbling over a branch that her ankle met by accident. Loki nearly attempted to rise again. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m Idunn,” said the girl, regaining composure remarkably quickly. 

“...Loki.” 

A moment of awkward silence went by before Idunn took another step back toward the throne. “Are all those a part of you?” she asked, her thoughts as aimless and unorganized as any ten-year-old’s. 

Loki looked up into the time vines, feeling smaller and more alone than ever in the surreal presence of this little creature who’d managed to survive an entrance into open time without being torn into tiny threads and scattered across space.

“I suppose they are.” 

Idunn sighed, shrugging and positioning herself at his feet. “I didn’t know gods were real. I thought they were just an excuse to--”

“--oh, gods are real, little one--”

“--get rid of me.” 

Loki fell silent again, this time stunned at the bluntness of the child, and the darkness of her admission.

 “What kind of miniature sorceress are you, Miss Idunn?” he asked, his voice starting to lighten in an attempt to alleviate the child’s fears. “Your powers must be fearsome if you stand before me now fully intact.” 

“I’m not a witch,” Idunn conceded. “They just chose me for the sacrifice this year, and I had something to help myself survive.” 

Loki didn’t know what part of this distressing declaration to address first. “Sacrifice?”

Idunn nodded, looking about the branches above her head, pointing to the one that was still recovering from the intrusion. “Time’s Ridge. They call it The Village at the End of the Universe. They sacrifice a child every year to stop the storms.” 

The God of Stories was aware of the histories of many of his burdensome tethers by now, but even Time’s Ridge was a mystery to him. 

“Sacrifice?” he repeated as the oblivious blatherskite before him went on, her fears quickly alleviating into a more normal enthusiasm that suited a youth her age. 

“Yes,” affirmed the girl, “but the night before they took me to the abyss, a strange man came by my cell window and offered me this.” 

She showed Loki the golden apple, causing his jaw to drop again. The girl was unfamiliar, but the apple was unmistakably Asgardian. A rare delicacy, the Golden Apples of Asgard gave the Gods their eternal youth and immortality. Every god had a single one on their person, for sometimes one could find themselves pulling back from the edge of oblivion by virtue of one bite.

They were so rare because they were so difficult to cultivate. Any one mistake during the process would render the apples lethal to even the Allfather. The only grower Loki knew to be alive was an elderly Asgardian somewhere out in the cosmos. How he made his way to this little urchin teetering at the edge of everything and knew to offer her the last apple in existence, Loki couldn’t even guess. 

“Did he say where he got that?” Loki’s eternal hunger suddenly caught up with him again upon seeing the golden apple in her small hand. 

“No. All I can remember is that he was very strong and handsome for a peddler. Only other thing I can remember is that he was blonde. Oh, and he had a big hammer with him, too. I think he was looking for me directly, like he knew who needed this.” 

Loki’s cold skin shot back into a warm heat that made two more tears stain his cheeks. 

Idunn looked regretful. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Did you want a bite?”

Loki looked sadly off to his sides. “I cannot eat. I cannot let go of even a single one of these timelines, little one. I couldn’t hold an apple or a spoon.” 

The child looked from Loki to the apple, and back. “So then I’ll help!” she said as simply as if it were the answer to 1 + 1.

Before the god could protest, or even ask, Idunn had taken it upon herself to climb Loki’s throne and sit in his lap, holding the unbitten apple before his lips. “Don’t you want--?”

Loki didn’t wait, his hunger overriding any sense of decorum, and accepted a large mouthful of fruit, almost unhinging his jaw like a snake to consume as much sustenance in a single crumb as he could. As a result, Loki had accounted for half of the apple with his bite. Idunn giggled at Loki’s accomplishment. 

The food was not only the single most delicious morsel of food he’d ever consumed, but he felt it travel down to his stomach before warmly blossoming, artificially filling his stomach for the time being. The pains subsided almost immediately, and a surge of energy filled Loki’s veins.

Then, something remarkable happened that he didn’t expect. The timelines glowed gold instead of green for a moment, and each one that was even remotely loose or frayed was repaired and made stronger than it had been before. Small orbs of gold began appearing above their heads, looking as if golden apples were growing on the branches of the World Tree. Idunn gasped. 

“Pretty!” she whispered. “I didn’t know these could do that!” she declared excitedly, looking down at the apple. 

“Nor I,” said Loki, his gratefulness to the strange girl present in his tone. I wonder if this is affecting the beings within?

“Do you have children?” asked Idunn, suddenly. Loki shook his head, his large, horned diadem nearly whacking the girl off her perch. 

“No. Do you have…parents?” he asked hesistantly in return. 

“No. No one wanted me.”

Loki’s heart went out to the child. “I know the feeling.”

Idunn sighed. “Why do you think they picked me to jump at Time’s Ridge?”

Loki looked sadly down at the apple in Idunn’s fist, already repairing itself. 

“I’m alone,” Idunn continued. “I had to come here in order to save everyone else while they move on with their lives without me. No family, no reason to expect to find one.”

Norns, am I looking into a mirror?  Loki smiled, feeling an odd new sensation one could only describe as paternal. “Perhaps…when two unloved, unwanted people find each other, there’s a family to be found there, little one.”

Time passed, how much neither the entombed god nor the condemned child knew, but this was because neither cared. It was here that The God of Stories was able to share his own tales for the first time, and once he and Idunn moved past the initial shock of discovering one another here, in the darkest and least likely of places, his long stretches of details quickly became libraries’ worth. 

Idunn may have been young, but her maturity was at least partially Asgardian. Loki suspected her heritage could have been closer to his own peoples’ than one would expect of one of the lowly residents of the edge of time. As such, Loki found his paternal instinct toward Idunn grow, and as infinite measures of time began to pass, he began encouraging her to eat and rest in between stories and songs. After all, she was only as immortal as the apples made her. She was not a god, nor a full Asgardian.

Before long, Loki felt compelled to say what had slowly begun to creep into his mind once she appeared: it’s so wonderful having someone to talk to.  

Instead, he addressed what he least wanted to. “Idunn,” he said. “Unlike myself, you are free to leave here at any time.”

She sighed. “Are you tired of me now?”

He quickly denied her with a sad face and a headshake. “I suppose I just wanted to inform you that you could probably enter any one of these timelines and find a better world to live in than the one you knew…and the one that is here.” 

Are you mad? thought Idunn. Why would I leave you, the first person to ever listen to me?

“No, I think I’ll stay here a while. You need someone to help you eat, and I need…”

Loki smiled and completed her thought. “...a glorious purpose?” 

“Exactly.”

She nodded. “As long as I have this, and as long as you won’t tell me to jump off a ridge, then I will be here for you, King Loki.” 

“Sweet daughter Idunn,” Loki whispered in relief, “just know one final thing: please don't call me King Loki.”

Idunn giggled and threw her arms around Loki’s shoulders in an embrace of perfect love and trust. For the moments she couldn’t see his face, Loki allowed the tears to fall freely. 

Thus, the Goddess of Youth took her place alongside the God of Stories, giving him the strength and companionship he needed to hold reality aloft on his shoulders for however long the whims of fate would have him there. 

For as long as she stayed there, Loki never knew loneliness again. 

Yeah, this fic is basically "a wild daughter appears!" like Thor: L&T was for Thor, but Loki just can't and shouldn't be alone on top of the multiverse like that. Come on, y'all.

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